Saturday meant doing homework and shopping at the mall with his girls. The three of them met up with Santana, Britney and Quinn for a late lunch before Kurt went home to do some cleaning. He spent Sunday relaxing in his room reading Vogue and watching musicals. It was a really good first weekend for the school year. 
The next few days were the most stress free he’d had at school in longer than he cared to remember. His tormentors didn’t return until Wednesday. He got a total of three and a half days without having to flinch every time he heard a locker slam. French was oddly boring, mainly because he was paired with a student named Andrew, who could barely pronounce his name, let alone string together a sentence in French coherently. As rude and homophobic as Blaine was, Kurt missed being able to speak with someone other than the teacher in that class. 
No to say the week was uneventful. Monday brought the first day of “booty camp”, in addition to Glee rehearsals. It also brought a furious Rachel. 
“Why wasn’t I invited to girl’s night?” She screeched cornering Kurt second after he walked into school that morning. “I started them!”
“It was a last minute thing, sorry,” he lied.
“We’ll invite you next time, promise,” Mercedes added. Her tone implied Rachel wouldn’t be getting an invite, but it placated the shorter girl.
“Good,” she huffed and stormed away.
“I wish someone would slushy her.”
“Wait until Karofsky returns, then she’s guaranteed one,” his best friend reminded him.
The two best friends shared a look of disgust then parted ways to head to their lockers. 
His first few classes passed quietly, and slowly. French actually made a part of him wish the dark haired boy was there. A very small part of him. Sadly, being insulted in foreign languages was preferable than listening to idiots butcher the beautiful language. At one point he was afraid his partner, a girl named Kristin, was going to make his ears bleed.
Lunch would have gone over well if Brittney hadn’t opened her mouth. Not that Kurt could actually be mad at her. As endearing as the blonde’s stupidity was, it occasionally got everyone in trouble. 
“Saturday was so much fun!” she said as they all sat around their lunch table in the back corner of the cafeteria. “We should do it again, just us Glee girls.” She paused for a second and looked around the table then said, “Well, all of us girl except Rachel. Everyone said you can’t join us.”
The diva exploded with rage. “What does she mean no one wanted me there?” she yelled at them. “I thought you guys were my friends!”
“Kurt and I are your friends,” Kurt said.
“Sometimes we just like hanging out without hearing you go on endlessly about Finn and NYADA,” Mercedes added.
“Oh don’t lie to her,” Santana interrupted. “No one here is your friend, man hands. Everyone else is too nice to say they actually hate you.”
For once the girl was stunned into silence. So was everyone else, despite the fact that they were used to hearing Santana tell the truth in the harshest way possible. 
Tears welled up in her eyes. “Guys?” she said quietly.
When no one answered her, she pushed back from the table, sent them a sad glare then stormed out of the cafeteria. 
“That was really mean, Santana,” Finn said glaring at the Latina. He turned to the rest of the table, “I can’t believe none of you stood up for her.” The quarterback then rushed out after his girlfriend.
“You didn’t say anything either!” she called after him.
“Holy shit,” Puck said.
“That was kind of mean,” Tina said. “But you still deserve an award for it.”
Kurt had to agree. Most days he felt like screaming at the girl and telling her how much he couldn’t stand her. He’d never actually do it, though. Memories of being friendless and hated by the entire school still plagued him. Of course, most of the school still hated him, but he had friends now. It was impossible for him to deny Rachel the illusion of friends. Letting Santana set her straight didn’t bother him as much as it should have though. 
“So, who all saw Quinn this morning?” Mercedes asked in an attempt to break the strained silence that had settled over their table.
The former Cheerio made her reappearance in a very shocking manner. At some point her hair had been chopped off and dyed bright pink. She now had a few piercings and a tattoo. When Kurt saw her standing in the parking lot wearing a torn up shirt and floor-length bohemian skirt in dirty dishwater grey she was smoking a cigarette. The clothing paired with her large round sunglasses made him cringe in horror. The style would look horrible on anyone, but on someone with such classic looks it was nearly devastating. 
They spend the remainder of their lunch discussing Quinn’s new group of friends. The Skanks were the worst possible group of people for her to get mixed up with. All of them were whores and drug addicts. Being surrounded by people like that meant she was throwing her life away. 
Booty Camp was extremely uncomfortable. Rachel was still visibly upset from lunch, and judging from his stance, Finn was taking her side. A large gap separated everyone from their two co-captains, despite being in formation as the group moved through their warm ups, and when Mr. Schue led them through some basic dance steps.
The diva’s glare seemed to be aimed particularly harsh at him, Mercedes, and Tina. Kurt figured it was most likely because the three of them at least pretended to be her friends unlike Santana and Britney. 
“I almost don’t want to go home tonight,” he told Tina as they walked to the parking lot. 
Tuesday followed virtually the same pattern. Danger free without his bullies, but uncomfortable with Rachel. It was also boring, oddly enough. Once again he was paired with Andrew in French, much to the protest of his ears. He actually came close to hitting the boy at one point from the way he butchered the language. The urge for violence was stronger than any he’d ever felt towards Rachel. 
She avoided them during lunch. Kurt didn’t see her in the cafeteria or the amphitheater, and assumed she was hiding in the choir room with Finn.
Thanks to Tina, Art was a wonderful break from the weird day. 
“You know Rachel practically hates all of us now; there’s no reason for you to keep Parsons and FIT a secret from everyone.”
“I’m not ready for my Dad to know. I’ll tell everyone when I’m ready,” he sighed. He didn’t move his eyes away from the design he was working on. 
“You’re so talented Kurt,” she said looking at the sketch. “You’re an amazing singer and actor, but this is your calling. You could be the next Alexander McQueen.” 
A part of him didn’t believe her. Designing was something he wanted to do more than anything else in the world, the universe. When it came to fashion standards, he knew he was mediocre at best, despite what anyone else said. As nice as it was to hear Tina praise him, he wasn’t good enough to make it in the fashion world. 
Calculus was the first time  he actually saw Rachel. The girl moved to a different desk, across the room from him and Mike. The two boys shared a look before taking their seats. For the first time since his freshman year, math passed relatively silent, because for once Rachel wasn’t chatting about NYADA and New York incessantly in his ear. 
Rehearsals followed roughly the same pattern as “Booty Camp” the day before. Finn and Rachel, the co-captains, sat at the front of the room, directly in the center. Everyone else was huddled in the back corner as far from them as possible. 
Mr. Schue didn’t comment on the club ostracizing their “leaders”. Kurt guessed the man would give them time to work it out before interfering. He didn’t say a word as they all suffered through the very awkward rehearsal. The tension in the room was palpable. Of course, there was always the chance he hadn’t noticed. The Spanish teacher was even more oblivious than Finn sometimes. 
Kurt woke up Wednesday morning wanting nothing more than to go roll over and sleep through the day. On top of a still upset Rachel, who spend half the night at his house alternating between making out with Finn and glaring at him, his bullies, and Blaine, returned to school that day. What he though would be a fairly good week was turning out to be exceedingly disastrous. 
When Blaine wasn’t there to block his locker, he thought there would be one more day of relative peace. Those thoughts immediately evaporated when the “bad boy” sauntered into their French class twenty minutes late. By that time Kurt’s ears had already been mercilessly assaulted by his temporary partner. Andrew sat in Blaine’s seat as they silently filled out worksheets. Well, Andrew filled his out, Kurt was already done with the tedious work. 
He secretly watched as Blaine conversed with Mme LeFebvre. The boy was hot, really hot, and his butt was nice, especially in the designer jeans he wore. Part of Kurt was ashamed he was checking a very obviously straight boy out, but Blaine was honestly the hottest guy to ever grace the halls of McKinley. A blush began to make its way across his cheeks. Quickly, he averted his eyes before Blaine caught him. 
“Me manquer?” Blaine asked sarcastically as he shooed the other boy out of his seat. 
And the attraction once again vanished. Kurt did his best to ignore the dark haired boy. After being hit by the expensive satchel, he couldn’t help buy acknowledge his presence next to him. 
“Vraiment?” Kurt said glaring.”Était-ce nécessaire?”
“Est-que-ce?” Blaine gave him an innocent look.
For a second Kurt thought it was the most adorable look he had ever seen on anyone. When the devious smirk reappeared, the thought immediately vanished. After the weekend with Mercedes and Tina, that was the best thing to do. Any thoughts involving Blaine and words such as cute, adorable, hot, etc… were strictly off limits. 

Ultimately, he rolled his eyes and did his best to forget the “badboy” was sitting next to him. The moment the bell rang, Kurt fled the room as quickly as possible. He practically ran across the school to his locker, where Tina, Mercedes, and surprisingly, Rachel were waiting for him. All three of the girls wore clear plastic ponchos over their clothing.
“Don’t take this as a sign that I’ve forgiven you,” Rachel said as she held a small package out to him, “but since Karofsky and Azimio Adams have returned, I thought we could use these in the hall.” 
Inside the package was a fourth cheep plastic poncho. The decision of whether or not to wear it was made when he was Karofsky and a few of his cronies walking towards them, slushies in hand. Kurt shoved his bag into Mercedes hands and quickly pulled the item over his clothing. The group had turned to watch, all secretly hoping the slushies weren’t meant for them. 
“Move it, freaks,” a voice said from behind them causing the group to jump. 
Dropping the hood back down, Kurt turned to find Blaine standing behind them. The look on his face was caught somewhere between disgust and amusement. 
“You could ask nicely,” Rachel told him. 
“I could,” he said
A moment of silence passed. 
“Well?” Rachel said impatiently.
“I said I could, I never said I was going to. Now, move it.”
“Being rude isn’t attractive on anyone.”
“Good thing I don’t particularly care if you don’t find me attractive,” he said. “Actually, I’d prefer it that way. I’d move you out of the way myself, but I’d really rather not touch anything so hideous.”
Rachel shot him one last glare, then hurried off down the hallway. 
It took everything Kurt had to stifle the laugh that threatened to erupt from his mouth. A quick glance at his two friends let him know that they were doing the same. It wasn’t often that anyone was able to put the diva down so quickly and harshly.
“The rest of you can leave too,” Blaine said to them. “It rains outside last time I checked. Maybe you should go out there and find some.” 
Kurt rolled his eyes, but shoved his French books in his locker and walked off. It was until him and Tina were taking their seats in the Art room that he realized the jocks never came near them with those slushies. 

---

Blaine watched the trio walk down the hallway out of the corner of his eye. Well, he watched Kurt Hummel’s ass move down the hallway to be specific. Of course, there was only one person in this backwards school he would admit that to. 
That person being the Latina Cheerio currently strutting down the hallway towards him. Her hisp swayed seductively, catching the attention of most of the male population. The ones that weren’t staring at her lustfully scurried out of her path. 
The dark haired boy rolled his eyes and turned back to his locker. His next class was gym then he had lunch. Blaine wasn’t about to carry around a bunch of unnecessary books with him. Actually, he didn’t need the books for any of his classes. The curriculum at McKinley was behind Dalton’s, very far behind. It bored him to death, but skipping class would earn him a one way ticket to some boarding school halfway across the country, and somewhere he couldn’t make trouble. Being forced even farther away from his friends and family was not something he could deal with. 
“So I hear you made Rachel Berry cry,” Santana said leaning against the locker. 
“That didn’t even happen two minutes ago.”
“Jew-Fro caught it on camera, besides this school thrives on gossip.”
“So I’ve noticed,” he said. Gossip in the school was even worse than at the country club, and all the bored, wealthy housewives there would be even more useless without their gossip. “The things these fucking idiots say about me are insane.”
“You’re a mystery, Blaine,” she said grabbing on to his arm as they began making their way towards the locker rooms. “Hell, I don’t even know anything about you.”
“You know enough to get me killed,” he pointed out. 
“Just because I know…that…doesn’t mean I know anything about you. It just means I’m smarter than everyone else.”
He sighed. “I’ll tell you what. I’m hanging out with some of my friends from Dalton Friday night. I’ll pick you us so you can meet them. And get whatever dirty secrets you want about me.”
Shock registered on her face before he realized he had let the name of his previous school slip. 
“Dalton? As in Dalton Academy in Westerville!?” she practically yelled.
Panic at her loudness flared through him as he quickly tried to shush the Cheerio. His eyes scanned the hallway to make sure no one heard. “Don’t say it so loud!” he reprimanded.
“You seriously went there?” she asked in a normal tone. “You aren’t fucking with me right?”
“I got kicked out,” he told her. He didn’t bother to mention that despite the insane amount of money his parents offered the school, they wouldn’t let him stay. “I’ll tell you how Friday.”
“I’ll hold you to it, Rich boy,” she said with a devious smirk. 
“I’m sure you will.”
She sauntered off down the hall, leaving him there.
Blaine sighed deeply. Friday would be interesting with her and his friends in the same room.