It wasn't a long ride to the school Blaine and Cooper attended. It was a nice, big, modern building - home to a primary and secondary school.

Cooper got out of the passenger's seat rather quickly joining a bunch of his friends, who were already waiting for him, laughing and clapping him on the shoulder as they went inside together, while Vernon held his daily speech of ''don't you dare to get yourself into trouble, boy!"

Blaine looked out of the window and rolled his eyes before making an affirmative noise and leaving the car.

It wasn't like he tried to get himself into trouble... it seemed more like trouble was pulling him in and there was nothing he could do against it.

He slung his bag over his shoulder and entered another part of the building than Cooper had. Blaine had been really close to throwing a party as Vernon had suggested that Cooper should board at the school where Vernon himself had when a child but then Cooper had destroyed his happy dreams of a life without his cousin, saying that he'd prefer to stay with his Mummy (which had brought aunt Petunia to the brink of tears) and that someone needed to look out for Blaine at school.

In general this looking out didn't help him to stay out of trouble. At. All.

Blaine made his way to first period, slumping down in the back row alone. He didn't have friends to enjoy a lesson or lunch with. It wasn't like he hadn't tried to find friends, especially when he had entered school at the age of six but nobody wanted to be his friend.

He was this poor foster child, cousin to the great Cooper Anderson, star of the Cricket team and the most handsome 11 year old to ever walk the floors of this school, with his piercing blue eyes that didn't resemble Blaine's at all, and the brown soft hair which also gave no indication of a relation of any kind between him and Blaine.

People might think that being Cooper's cousin would help Blaine to make friends but Cooper had humiliated him enough at any possible occasion to indicate that the relationship between them wasn't a good one of any sort.

Besides that, he just stood out and nobody liked being friends with a freak. This wasn't a private school but it was a public school in the wealthiest part of town and so hand-me-down cloths and cheep glasses, paired with no expensive possession like a mobile, made him different from everyone else. To make it simple: he was a misfit

.

And then there was this thing with getting into trouble, which made him as unpopular with the teachers as he was with the pupils.

Blaine really had no idea what was going on most of the time. Like once: he had been running from some bullies who had said that they wanted to make his old shirt a little more stylish with new colour, meaning they wanted to bath him in slushies, and as they had nearly had him, he had tried to shove a rubbish container between them to slow them down, but instead from just blocking their path it had all but knocked them out!

He had gotten two weeks of detention, a letter to the Andersons and as they had read it another four weeks of house arrest. Besides that he had to walk to school for those four weeks, which meant an half an hour walk each morning and afternoon.

Another time three boys had circled him in the boys' locker, insulting him and describing to him very vividly what they attended to do to him. He had been so scared, he had just wished to become one with the wall behind him or that anything, just anything would happen so that he could make a run for it. Suddenly one of the boys had squealed. His trousers and boxers had just slit to the floor and he was standing there naked. The other two stared at him, not sure what had just happened and what they were supposed to do. Blaine had made a run for it. He didn't get punished... but 5 feet from the door something hard had hit his spine and he had nearly fallen to the floor.

One of the two still dressed guys had thrown a cricket bat in his direction and hit him pretty hard. He had had a bruised back for nearly two weeks, which hurt so bad that he couldn't lie on it.

There were many other similar occasions, too many to think about them all as he let his teacher's talking lull him into a half dream, half awake state. Suddenly he heard a cry and green light flushed in front of his eyes, he yelped and stood, trying to focus and where he was. He looked around and noticed everybody staring at him, including his teacher.

"Mr Anderson. What is wrong with you?" She sighed. "You're cousin is such a good boy." Blaine gritted his teeth. "But you keep interrupting my class. You can leave."

Blaine looked at her in disbelieve. "Didn't you listen, Anderson? I said: Leave. Now."

Blaine picked up his bag, still standing and made his way to the door, looking at his feet. He had the door knob in his hand as his teacher spoke again.

"And as you already missed half of the class by day dreaming and will miss the other half by not attending, you will be here after your final lesson again for detention. Understood?"

Blaine turned, his glasses sliding down his nose as he tried to keep calm.

"Yes, Madam." She nodded and he left, heading for a quite place where he could spend the time unharmed until next period.

His plan didn't work out.

He was halfway through the school, heading to the auditorium, which was deserted at his time of day as two guys, who were friends with Cooper, turned around a corner and noticed him.

They stopped first looking at each other and then at the half full slushy cups they had been enjoying. Blaine froze as they started grinning and running towards him.

He tried to back away but they were too fast and in the blink of a second he felt the cold, sticky, iced water hit his face and shirt.

He gasped, as he felt himself shaking with cold and humiliation, while the two boys continued their path, laughing and high-fiving each other.

The boy stood there another minute, waiting for the cold burn and pain to ease a little, before he made his way to the next bathroom to get a little cleaned up. He had practise doing so.

As he looked into the mirror, all he saw was a miserable 10-year old, with red eyes and a matching shirt, which had been white five minutes before. Aunt Petunia would kill him.

A couple of minutes later he was as cleaned up as possible, his hair wet but iceless, glasses and face cleaned and even though he couldn't get the colour or stickiness away, his shirt was at least drier.

He had just made his way out the door as he heard the bell ring.

Blaine made his way down the hall, as suddenly he felt pressure on his back and then a force pushed him. He flew against a locker, bounced back and fell to the floor, right in front of a neat pair of Chucks.

Everything hurt, his chest from the first collision with the locker and his back from the second collision with the floor. With time the pain seemed to multiply and spread through his body.

He groaned.

To add to his physical pain, the voice he wanted to hear the least was addressing him.

"Blainers Anderson. You couldn't walk a straight line if people paid you, could you?" An all too familiar larking voice said above him.

Slowly Blaine lifted his head and yeah it was his cousin to whose feet he had just landed. Cautiously, to not encourage the pain any further, he sat up, as Cooper continued to speak.

"You were just the twit I was looking for." A bottle of water was dropped into his lap. "As you can neither walk straight, nor get up on time to get your stuff together, nor remember that kids your age need loads to drink, somebody needs to look out for you, righteous little boy?"

Blaine looked down and closed his eyes. Maybe this was even meant to be nice but he could already hear people laughing at him when all he wanted was to stay unnoticed and out of trouble for just one day.

He mumbled a thank you to Cooper - he still was a man with manners - and got up. He had just tried to turn and flee the scene as a hand looped around his arm and spun him around to face Cooper again.

"God, twit. It's not only that you can't walk, you also can't drink properly." He pointed at his stained t-shirt. "Good think I gave you a bottle. Maybe you have more luck with that." Cooper laughed and everyone around them chimed in, while Blaine felt his face getting red.

Like it was his fault that he looked that way!

He turned around. Everyone in the hall was staring at them. Some of them laughing or pointing, others whispering and grinning. He blushed even harder, clutching the bottle and all but running down the hall, murmuring a goodbye to Cooper, who had paused his laughter to yell "Watch your feet!" after him.

All Blaine wanted to do was leave. The problem was just that he didn't want to go home either. Spending time at the Anderson's house was maybe not worse but if you put a gun to his head, Blaine would still say it was a tie.

He sighed as he sat down in his second class, dreaming of a place he might want to go to, a place where he belonged, a home. Only that those places were fantasies. There was no way a place like that existed.