Having a sit down dinner every night was getting on his nerves quickly, Blaine decided. Since Blaine boarded at Dalton and his dad was often out of town on business if he was home, actually eating dinner together was strictly reserved for holidays and special occasions. The Berry's did not have that same mentality.

"Rachel sometimes eats at Finn's, but yes during the week we sit down together," Melissa said when Blaine asked her about it that night.

"So how was your first day at McKinley?" Roy asked.

"It was fine," Blaine grunted.

"He didn't skip," Rachel said. "I checked with all of his teachers."

"You did what!?" Blaine yelled.

Melissa waived a hand to quiet him and said to Rachel, "That wasn't necessary, Rachel. I'm sure Ms. Pillsbury will contact us if he skips." She then turned back to him, "Not that you're going to skip, right?"

"Why do you even care?" Blaine snapped. "You never have before. I don't see why that has to change now. You didn't care enough to stay then. It's not any of you're fucking business what I do now." A collective gasp went around the table at the swear word, but he ignored them and continued, "So just but out of my life and go back to ignoring the fact that you have a son. For the record, I rarely skip class."

The other three occupants were stunned into silence, and when he was finished, Blaine shot them one last glare before storming up the stairs to his room.

His hands burned with the need to hit someone, something. He barely remembered doing it, but there was suddenly a fist sized hole in the wall just beside the door. Turning away from it, he dug his cigarettes out of his bag and flung the window open. He sat on the ledge with one leg hanging out the window and his back against the wall before lighting up. It took three cigarettes before the anger left him.

As he sat there watching the barely visible stars, his phone beeped.

From: Wes

(8:49 PM)

So how was your first day in public school?

To: Wes

(8:50 PM)

Not as bad as I thought it would be. Still shitty.

From: Wes

(8:50 PM)

That sucks. Any hot girls?

To: Wes

(8:51 PM)

Saw a few, didn't get a chance to talk to any.

From: Wes

(8:53 PM)

That blows. What's up?

To: Wes

(8:54 PM)

Nothing. Smoking. I feel like I'm in prison.

(8:55 PM)

From: Wes

Try to stay out of trouble. You can't distract me from Economics in prison.

(8:56 PM)

To: Wes

I'll do my best. Speaking of prison, have you heard from Jeff?

From: Wes

(8:59 PM)

No one has. Well, maybe Nick, but he hasn't said anything. I doubt you'll hear from him anyway. I've heard his parents are none too happy and blame everything on you.

To: Wes

(9:01 PM)

It was mostly me. I hate that they're after him too.

From: Wes

(9:03 PM)

You can't blame yourself. Those douchebags got what they deserved, and you and Jeff weren't the only ones involved.

To: Wes

(9:04 PM)

But we're the only ones they're going after.

From: Wes

(9:06 PM)

With your record and his dad a senator, you're the easiest to go after. Don't sweat it. They just want money. Anyway, I gotta go. Keep me updated.

To: Wes

(9:07 PM)

Will do, see you.

Blaine sighed. He was dying to know what was going on with Jeff, but his number had apparently been blocked.

Without the chaos of the dorms, he really didn't know what to do with himself. Despite the early hour, Blaine changed into a pair of sweats and grabbed his Kindle.

Rachel beating his door the next morning came as a shock. He groaned and pulled the blanket over his head.

Getting up before seven every morning is going to kill me, he thought. And without coffee in the house, it would be that much harder.

After shoving the warm covers off, Blaine stumbled out of his room to the bathroom for a shower. Once he was clean, and dressed, he joined the others downstairs.

"Good morning, Blaine," Melissa said after he sat down at the breakfast bar.

Once he had grunted in response, she continued, "About last night, I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions. You're right, the only things I know about you are things I remember from when you were a toddler. Or thing's you're father has told me regarding this situation."

Blaine listened to her silently as she apologized.

"So let's start over. I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt that you will stay out of trouble, and follow the rules without any trouble. And maybe we can get to know one another along the way. What do you say?"

"Yeah, sure," Blaine said. Not that he really cared if they got to know one another. That need had vanished a long time ago.

"That's great!" she said, apparently not noticing his uncaring home.

A few moments later, Rachel joined them. It took a few seconds for him to realize what she was wearing, and when he did he nearly choked on the orange juice he was drinking. She had on a white sweater with a large black cat face crocheted into it, a navy a-line skirt, knee high stockings, and black Mary-Jane's. To top it off, there was a sparkley black headband in her pin straight hair. It was the most ridiculous thing he had seen someone wear.

"Blaine, you can either ride with Rachel or take the bus it's up to you."

The bus? Never in his life before had he taken public transportation anywhere and he wasn't about to start now. Being seen in whatever crappy car with Rachel sounded a lot more appealing.

"I need coffee," he told her ten minutes later when they left the house in her car.

"Okay?" she said.

"It means, you're stopping somewhere so I can get some."

"You could ask me to stop, you know," she said.

"I could," he said.

She gave him a dirty look, but began driving towards The Lima Bean.

When they got there, she declined his offer to buy her something. He shrugged, then climbed back into the car.

As he sipped of the burning liquid, he fished his pack of cigarettes and lighter out of his bag.

"What are you doing?" Rachel screeched when she saw him pull them out.

"Smoking." He rolled his eyes and flicked the lighter. Cigarettes and coffee, that was his breakfast. The day couldn't start without them either.

"Mom told you it's not aloud. And you can't smoke in my car!"

"Well, I am," he said and blew the smoke towards he face.

She choked and attempted to waive the smoke away. "It's bad for my voice, Blaine. Put it out," Rachel huffed.

Blaine didn't say anything.

"Ugh! Just get out of my car!" she said after pulling into the student parking lot. Without waiting for a reply, she slammed the door and stormed off towards the building.

Laughing at her, Blaine dropped the butt one the ground before wondering off to find his firsts period class. Stopping for coffee had them arriving to school just a few minutes before the bell rang.

Puck found him on the stair case.

"Why were you riding with Rachel Berry, dude?" he asked.

"Because my father took my car and it was that or riding a bus. I almost wish I'd have taken the bus," Blaine said.

"But why Berry?"

"Because she's my stepsister," he said. The word was sour in his mouth. He didn't want to think he actually had any relation to the irritating girl or the woman that gave birth to him.

"Dude, that sucks," Puck said.

"You don't even know the half of it," Blaine muttered.

"Well, see you," Puck said and wondered down the hallway.

His History class had to be a joke, Blaine decided. The teacher was a bumbling idiot that couldn't tell the Revolutionary War from the French and Indian war, let alone who fought in either.

"Having a bad morning?" Kurt's angelic voice asked him not long after he entered his Calculus class.

"The worst," Blaine told him.

"I'm not a morning person either," Kurt told him.

Blaine laughed. It was nice not to have someone pry. "I bet you know some hot girls that can make my morning better," he said.

"I'll see what I can do," Kurt said before taking his seat.