Blaine was very accustomed to being homeschooled. He had been homeschooled pretty much his whole life. But Blaine wanted to experience high school. He wanted the annoying teachers, the running down the halls as to not be late for class, the friends... Blaine never had any friends growing up. It sounds awful but unfortunately it was very true. He had met some kids his age through his parent's friends sometimes when he was younger, but they were all rich and snobby kids that Blaine couldn't even bring himself to befriend.

He was especially nervous while getting ready the morning of his first day. He barely slept at all the previous night, so he was tired, but incapable of sleeping. Then Blaine spent what seemed like hours in front of the mirror in his bathroom, applying and re-applying hair gel as to not let any of his crazy dark curls seem out of place, fiddling with his bright green bowtie, and adjusting his collar. He was literally shaking when he went downstairs and greeted his mother, who immediately began fussing over Blaine.

"Oh, Blaine, sweetie! You have a loose curl. Get me your gel, honey. I'll fix it for you." Blaine groaned and pulled out a small bottle from his backpack. With a smile, Katherine Anderson led Blaine into the bathroom, popping open the lid and beginning to apply more of the gooey mess to Blaine's already stiff hair, easing the curls into one constant shape. Blaine made a face as he assessed his reflection in the mirror.

"I look like someone dipped my whole head in a bucked of jell-o, mom." Blaine said with an over dramatic sigh, poking his ever stiff hair with a disgusted look on his face.

"You look perfect, darling. Quite dapper."

"High school kids aren't supposed to be dapper, mom." Blaine rolled his eyes. As much as he loved his mom, he hated her upper-class, better than everybody attitude she normally sported. Everything about Blaine always had to be perfect. His grades, his manners, his clothes, his hair...

"They aren't supposed to look like an overgrown jungle either, honey," she said with a wink and a playful nudge to Blaine's side. "Don't worry. They'll love you."

"I hope so." Blaine sighed.

"You don't have to go, you know." Katherine said softly, gazing into the mirror blankly. "We'd be perfectly happy homeschooling you some more."

"No, mom, I want to." Blaine's tone was firm. His opinion wasn't going to change. "I'm sick of having no friends. I want to meet people and have a normal high school experience."

"Oh, Blaine, you don't need-"

"Yeah, I know," Blaine interrupted. "I don't need one, but I really, really want one. I want real friends."

"That's fine, baby, but you need to be careful. Not everybody is as nice as you are. In fact, some people might give you trouble for... you know..."

Katherine didn't have to say it. Blaine knew what she meant. Blaine was well aware that some people in Ohio weren't too fond of gay people like himself. And he was willing to put up with it. It wasn't really a question, in Blaine's mind.

"I don't care, mom. I want to go. If I don't like it, I'll go right back to homeschooling, I promise." Katherine smiled lightly at Blaine's reflection in the mirror, rubbing his shoulders comfortingly.

"I'm just a bit worried for you, that's all."

"Thanks mom, but you don't need to worry." Blaine looked down at his watch. "I gotta go, mom. I'll see you tonight."

"Have a good day, sweetie! Be careful!" Katherine called to Blaine's already retreating figure.

"I will, mom! Love you!"

And with that, Blaine left the house with a smile and a wave.

.:~:.

Blaine didn't hate McKinley. At least not yet. The staff was welcoming enough. He was in all advanced classes and he was polite, so the teachers took notice in him. The students were not as interested, however. He couldn't even count the amount of strange looks directed towards him wherever he walked. Blaine noticed the difference between him and the other kids. Blaine wore button up shirts with bowties, these kids wore letterman jackets. The difference scared him, to be honest.

But when Blaine first saw that pair of dazzling blue eyes in trigonometry, he felt a change in his luck.

Blaine thought that Kurt was the most beautiful creature on the planet. His auburn hair was perfectly coiffed, his face flawless and glowing like porcelain, and his eyes shining a million shades of blue at once.

Almost immediately, Blaine felt the urge to know everything there was to know about this angelic boy.

The feeling didn't go away. Especially when Kurt began talking to Blaine. His voice was high pitched and so beautiful, Blaine had trouble listening to the actual words while he just marveled in the voice. Blaine was thrilled on how well his first attempt at making a friend was going, especially considering how much his gay-dar was going off the more he looked at Kurt.

But every trace of progress came to a halting stop when Blaine told Kurt his name.

"You have a last name, Blaine?"

"Um... yeah. Yeah, I do."

"Awesome. I have one too. So, what is yours?"

"Anderson. Blaine Anderson."

Kurt's eyes widened at Blaine's answer, his face expressing hundreds of emotions at once. Blaine was taken aback.

"Uh, yeah... Sorry, Blaine, I got to get to class. I'll see you around," Kurt mumbled, turning on his heal gracefully and walking briskly down the hall.

Blaine just stood there, in the middle of the hallway, thoroughly confused.

"Hey, look! A new kid!" Blaine whipped around and was surprised to see three large looking boys towering above him.

"What's with the bowtie? Must be a nerd."

"We were saving these for the little glee club fairies but I think this new kid deserves to know his place."

Before Blaine even had time to notice the Big Quench cups in each of the boys' hands, they were all simultaneously being thrown in his direction. There was a splash and Blaine stumbled a few steps backwards.

"Welcome to McKinley!"

Blaine couldn't see a thing. His eyes were literally burning. His face was numb. It was cold and freezing and miserable and all Blaine could do was stand there, in the middle of the hallway, dripping in frozen liquid. He felt like screaming or calling for help, but his voice was completely lost.

"Shit, they got you." Blaine recognized Kurt's high voice. He must have turned around when he heard the boys. Blaine didn't really have the mental capability to dwell on that at that moment, as all he could think about was the burning sensation that stung his face. "I have a towel in my backpack. Don't move. And, uh... don't try to blink, it just ends up making the stinging worse."

"What was that?" Blaine manage to choke out. He licked his lips and tasted the mix of sweet, cold flavoring. He winced as he felt Kurt begin wiping off the freezing substance.

"You got slushied. Here, chin up."

"Why?" Blaine coughed. Kurt didn't answer, he just continued dabbing away the cold ice from Blaine's face and neck. "And why are you helping me? You pretty much hated me five minutes ago."

"You got slushied because the people in this school are jerks and like to make anyone who isn't popular's life a living hell. And as for why I'm helping you... I know what it's like to get slushied and I know what it's like to deal with it alone. Especially since you got a Primary Splash... those are the worst. The yellow slushies taste awful, the red is known for stinging the most, and blue stains are a bitch to get out... Don't worry, I have Tide-To-Go in my locker that should to the trick if we hurry. And you can open your eyes, now. It'll still sting, but there's nothing you can do about it for awhile. Once we've got you cleaned up you can flush your eyes with water. That helps sometimes."

Blaine nodded and opened his eyes. His vision was blurred and it hurt like hell, but eventually he was able to make out Kurt's figure. Kurt's expression was somewhat dismal as he finished wiping the majority of the icy drink off of Blaine's body.

"Why don't you like me? Is it because I'm..." Blaine struggled to finish the sentence, knowing that this was probably the reason. His mother had warned him about this. "Is it because I'm gay? Does it makes you uncomfortable or something?"

"What?" Kurt squeaked. " No! No, the opposite, actually. I'm gay, too. I thought that was really obvious, actually. No, but... it's not that."

"Then what is it?" Kurt bit his lip, inwardly debating on what to say.

"Blaine Anderson. My name is Kurt Hummel," he decided, firmly.

"Oh."

Blaine immediately understood everything. Kurt's reaction to when he had stated his name, the awkwardness that plagued the two now as they conversed... He was silent as the puzzle pieces fell into place.

"Yeah. So I'll help you today because I'd hate to see such a dashing bowtie get ruined. But I can't afford to talk to you much more than that." Kurt sighed, turning on his heal, presumably heading to his locker, so Blaine followed his footsteps.

"Why? You seemed to like me enough before you knew my last name," Blaine pointed out, speeding up his pace to keep up the conversation with Kurt.

"That's because I didn't... Uh, well..." Kurt stammered, his eyes locked forward as he paced. "It's complicated, okay?"

"Complicated how?" Blaine said determinedly, despite Kurt's attempt to dismiss the subject.

"Listen, Blaine," Kurt started in a lighter, more friendly tone, stopping ever so briefly to look Blaine in the eye. "You seem nice enough, but we really can't be friends. It just wouldn't work."

"Why? Because our families hate each other? Kurt, that's their problem." Kurt continued walking, Blaine on his heels.

"I know, it is. But if my dad found out I was friends with an Anderson..."

"Then don't tell your dad," Blaine said quickly. Kurt sighed.

"It's more complicated than that, Blaine..."

"Talk to me about it. I'm pretty smart, I can keep up." Kurt stopped and looked at Blaine, his expression solemn and serious.

"Just... here's my locker, I'll help you get the stain out."

Blaine knew that at this point, he couldn't really argue with Kurt, so he stayed silent as Kurt pulled out a leather pouch from his locker. He watched intently as Kurt took out several bottles and cloths, and immediately started applying stain remover to Blaine's shirt and bowtie where the dye from the slushie had left its mark. He worked in silence, dabbing away the color with swift, skilled movements.

"Thank you," Blaine whispered as Kurt repacked the pouch.

"You're welcome. You're lucky we got to it so fast." Kurt closed his locker with a click, looking at Blaine again. "You're shirt may not have any stains, but it's still wet. You wouldn't happen to have a change in shirt, would you?"

Blaine pursed his lips, shaking his head slowly. Of course, he hadn't known of any reason to pack a spare outfit that morning. "I'm afraid not."

"That's alright, I always carry around a spare. Just so you're more comfortable. One second." Kurt opened his locker again, reaching towards the back and pulling out a worn red McKinley t-shirt. "It was always pretty big on me, so it should fit you fine."

"Thanks, Kurt." Blaine smiled.

"Right..." Kurt shifted uncomfortably, thinking of something to say to break the awkwardness between them. "The bathroom is down the hall on your left. You can just change in one of the stalls. Once you're finished, the history room is the classroom at the end of this hall."

"Thanks."

"This doesn't mean we're friends," Kurt said firmly. Blaine gave a slow nod, taking the shirt out of Kurt's hands.

"Alright," Blaine sighed, defeated. "I'll see you in trig."

And with that, the two seperated and walked in separate directions.

Blaine found himself standing in the middle of McKinley's bathroom burying his face into Kurt's shirt, inhaling the scent. It smelt sweet, a mix between rainwater and lilacs. It made Blaine's heart melt and he would be content with just standing there, smelling it. But other kids were walking in the bathroom and that turned out not to be an option. Blaine changed quickly into the shirt and rushed to his locker, where he tucked the wet shirt in the back and grabbed his empty binder for his new history class.

"Sorry I'm late, Mr. Daniels! I'm Blaine Anderson, I'm new here!" Blaine said quickly as he peeked his head into the classroom. It was a very small class, maybe only seven or eight kids, considerably older looking than Blaine. The teacher gave Blaine a calculating glance, taking in the slightly oversized McKinley t-shirt and understanding why he was late.

"Welcome to McKinley, Blaine. Take a seat."

Blaine gave a slight smile and slid into the closest empty seat next to a nice enough looking Asian boy. He then let his mind drift off into daydreams about one Kurt Hummel.

Blaine Anderson had a crush on a Hummel.