"I wrote you a letter," Cooper said.

"A l-l-letter?" Blaine asked in wonder.

"Yeah, I have some stuff I wanted to say to you, and I wanted to make sure you listened. And I wanted to make sure you would remember it."

"I would have l-l-l-l-l… if you, um, said it." Blaine thinks of all the words he’s let die out and fade away in his life. So many words left unsaid and lingering.

"Sometimes Blaine, people aren’t ready to hear the truth. I think you’re ready now."

Blaine was terrified. He immediately thought of the terrible or mean or derisive things Cooper could say to him in a letter. What if Cooper was just using the letter to say every mean thing he’s thought about Blaine for his whole life?

"Don’t look so scared. I just had some brotherly advice for you, so I wrote it down. That’s all."

Blaine decides to save the letter for the plane.

He continues on to the kitchen, where his father sits reading the paper. His father is old school like that, reading the financial pages, probably planning investments. Blaine understands that his father cares, but somehow that’s very different than believing it.

When Blaine sits at the table, his father nods at him. They don’t say anything during breakfast and Blaine is relieved because that means he won’t make his father angry or frustrated on his last morning home.

When it comes time for Blaine to leave for the airport, his father stands. Blaine can’t quite meet his eye.

“Blaine, I want you to know that I’ve placed some more funds into your checking account. You should be fine for money for the semester. Should you need more, email me or call and we’ll try to work something out. I know this might not be... an easy day for you and I hope it goes well.”

Blaine lets out a long slow breath and says thank you. His father then pulls him into a hug and Blaine can’t help but smile into his father’s shoulder.

“Be a good boy- ...man. Be a good man, Blaine.” And with that his father heads upstairs, while Blaine stands with his mouth agape.

~~~~~

Sitting next to his mother on the plane, Blaine tries to soothe himself with a comic book. It doesn’t seem to be working. His mother is engrossed in a magazine, so he decides to pull out Cooper’s letter.

Blaine-
I know I’ve given you a hard time over the years, but that was just brotherly love, I swear. I never meant to be cruel or hurtful or mocking, even though I think you interpreted it that way. I guess I thought I was toughening you up, but that’s dumb, because I’m pretty sure you already are tough.

Here are some things that I should have been saying to you for the past 18 years, instead of what I was saying.

You are kind, funny and smart.

You are your own man.

I think you’re so brave to be going to school in New York.

I know this is something we never talk about. I know it’s something Mom and Dad don’t talk to you about, but it needs to be said: You’re more than the way you speak.

This is the harshest thing I’m going to say in this letter, but it needs to be said. People have more to worry about than the way you sound. Don’t get so down on yourself for stuttering, no one thinks about it except you. Maybe they feel bad for you because they can tell how bad you feel. No one will pity you if you don’t pity yourself. I wish I had figured out a way to say this to you when you were younger and for that, I’m sorry.

Anyone that makes fun of you or doesn’t let you finish isn’t worth your time. Try to have fun in New York. Make friends. Even when you’re scared, try to smile at people. A smile goes a long way Blaine.

Be yourself.

Call me if you need me.

And if anyone is mean to you, screw ‘em.

Love- Coop

~~~~~

The second Blaine can, he shoots Cooper a text message.

“Thank you, Cooper.”

A minute later his phone buzzes.

“Don’t let the haters get you down B.”

Blaine barks out a laugh and almost doesn’t care when his fellow passengers look at him strangely.

He takes his brother’s advice to heart. It doesn’t make him a completely different person. He’ll never be a big chatter or a particularly loud person. Even if he didn’t stutter, he’d probably be on the reserved side. But he’s going to try his damnedest to have an actual college experience. He’s going to work hard not to hide behind his stutter and his shyness, to make friends and to be Blaine for once in his short life.

He knows that the first obstacle to everything he wants is saying his name. It always comes down to that when meeting new people, he makes a terrible first impression. There’s always an awkward pause when people ask him his name or at the moment when he should introduce himself. He always worries that people assume he forgets his name.

He and Paula had spent a lot of their sessions over the summer coming up with techniques to help him with his name issues. He never wants to be Blah again, so he’s worked on focusing on the “b” instead of the “bl.” He rarely gets through it without a block, but it’s a quieter buzz of a block rather than an explosive “blah” sound. So many people take saying their own name for granted.

He’s thinking about all this as he and his mom make their way to baggage claim and out into the pickup area. Blaine was relieved that his mom had decided to join him on this trip. He was so nervous, it helped that right how he could be more passive and let her handle the hard stuff, like hailing a cab and instructing the driver.

“You doing ok, bud?” she asks as they sit in traffic.

Blaine wants to just nod, but that’s no way to start this adventure he’s chosen. That’s what the old Blaine would have done. College Blaine needs to be ready to talk.

“I, I’ve bbbeen b—better,” Blaine usually avoids b-words like the plague, but he’s trying to confront them head on. It’s sort of a superstition he’s developed. As if maybe allowing himself to stutter on hundreds of other b-words maybe he’ll be able to say his name when the time comes.

For the first time he can remember since being a little boy crossing the street, his mom takes his hand and gives it a solid squeeze.

“You chose this Blaine,” she says, not in a scolding way, but in a way to remind him, ”own your choice. You don’t have to be here, and no one will think any less of you if it doesn’t work out. I don’t know what Cooper said in his letter, but I want to say that you need to try.”

This time Blaine does let himself just nod, because he really doesn’t trust his voice. He can’t even meet his mother’s eyes. He tries so much all the time. He tries everyday and somehow his mother never sees. All of his trying is never enough. Maybe someday he’ll tell her, but not today. He needs to save his words for other people today.

“Take it day by day,” his mom continues, “and then week by week. I know you can do this Blaine. And I’m very proud of you.”

His head whips up in surprise. He didn’t expect her to conclude with that. He’s not sure his mom has ever said those words to him and they act like a salve on his soul. He smiles then, right at her, looking her in the eye, realizing that he’s going to do this. That he can do this. His mom knows he can. In a day full of surprises, his mother’s words might be the best one.

Of course, things don’t ever really go perfectly. When they arrive at his dorm the first person they run into his is resident advisor. Blaine is all set to introduce himself, to get past that first obstacle. And his mom totally steals his thunder.

“This is Blaine,” she says, turning toward him with a smile, as if Blaine should be excited that his mom thinks he can’t speak for himself.

He just sighs and smiles, when what he really wants to say is “What the hell Mother?? Why would you take my moment?” But of course the nervous loser side of his brain is totally relieved that he can put off the name torture.

His RA’s name is Chrissy and she seems nice enough, though definitely harried at the moment. She directs him to his room and she’s on to the next task at hand.

He and his mother make his way to his dorm room amid the hustle and bustle of students and parents. She helps him settle in a bit, making his bed, hanging up clothes. There will be a box delivered in the next few days with more of his belongings, but for now he just has what they could take on the plane, a few suitcases and his guitar. Blaine doesn’t mind, he doesn’t really need much to get by.

His mother leaves to check into her hotel and “freshen up,” leaving Blaine to rearrange his drawers and to decide where to store his suitcases. He props his guitar case in the corner for now, thinking he’s going to need a stand. His mom will be back later to take him for dinner and say goodbye, maybe they could do some quick shopping too.

Blaine is roused from his thoughts when there’s a commotion in the doorway. A tall, lean, brown haired boy enters, followed by not just a mother and a father, but a small entourage of other brown haired children. It’s a ruckus. Blaine is terrified of ruckuses in general. He shrinks in on himself for a moment before he remembers he’s going to try. He pulls himself up to his full height and smiles.

“Hey, what’s up man? I’m Matt,” says Blaine’s apparent roommate. “I’m gonna guess you’re Blaine?” What is this magic? Why is everyone taking this away from him? Again, Blaine wishes that his first feeling isn’t relief, but it is.

“Yeah, that’s mmm-me,” Blaine responds, sheepishly.

“Awesome. Uh, this is my family. I don’t know why they’re so noisy right now,” Matt’s grinning at his entourage that has already started taking over the room. Blaine immediately notices the guitar case slung over Matt’s back and it puts him at ease. Matt’s family starts the usual round of hand shaking and introductions and Blaine is actually feeling ok.

He’s stumbling, blocking a bit, but no one seems to be paying much attention to it. He knows his face is red, but it feels more like he’s glowing, rather than embarrassed. It feels like a blush of happiness rather than humiliation. It’s new and Blaine likes it.

~~~~~

Much later that night, after dinner and saying goodbye to his mom, after a hall meeting where Chrissy the RA laid out the plans for tomorrow, after hanging out with Matt and a few other people from their dorm, Blaine is tucked into his new bed. He’s tucked in between new sheets and he’s thinking of all the things that surprised him today, including himself. He’s never thought much about how people perceive him, he only assumed that people didn’t care, or wouldn’t like him, or couldn’t be bothered to listen to him.

When he woke up this morning, he never would have imagined that Cooper would call him brave, that his father would give him a hug or that his mother would say she’s proud of him. But that all happened today. He knew he was going to have to deal with blocks and the embarrassment of talking to new people, but he never would have guessed that it wouldn’t terrible. That it wouldn’t be impossible. He smiles to himself in the dark.

Tomorrow is going to be even better.