The first time Kurt Hummel laid eyes upon Blaine Anderson was the first day of his senior year during lunch.

He tapped Mercedes on the arm, drawing her attention away from some useless conversation she was having with Rachel.  “Candy Corn Alert.  Who’s the new kid?”

At the mention of Candy Corn, their secret term for hot guys, she started ignoring Rachel.  She had to follow his gaze, but spotted who he was talking about right away.  It wasn’t hard to find a man wearing bright red pants (tight ones, at that) with no socks, a black polo shirt that displayed lean, muscular arms and a bowtie.  Seriously.  A bowtie.  The only person who had ever dared wear a bowtie to this school before was Kurt. 

“I don’t know,” she finally replied, her eyes still on the new kid.  “I haven’t seen him before.  He’s not in any of my classes.” 

They continued to watch him until he left the cafeteria, getting confused looks from broth Kurt and Mercedes.  He crossed the hall, only to go into the teachers’ lounge to eat his lunch.  Alone, it seemed, until Mr. Schue and Coach Beiste sat down with him, making seemingly easy conversation. 

“Uh, that candy corn is a teacher,” Mercedes corrected as if Kurt hadn’t already figured that part out. 

She knew what Kurt was thinking, she was thinking the same thing.  The man looked far too young to be teaching high school kids.  It had everything to do with what he was wearing.  No teacher, ever in the history of McKinley, would dare walk the halls in that particular ensemble.  Kurt gave the man credit.  He was brave.  Not as brave as Kurt himself, though, in fashion choices. 

“I wonder what he teaches,” Kurt pondered absentmindedly.  He hadn’t meant to say it aloud.  He had just spoken his thoughts out loud.

Mercedes shrugged.  “We’ll ask Mr. Schue during Glee.  What song are you doing this week?” she asked, already forgetting about the new teacher in favor of singing and, of course, her tater tots.

Kurt looked through the glass walls into the teachers’ lounge a few more moments before turning to Mercedes, giving her and his half eaten salad his full attention.  “I don’t know yet.  But I have another week to come up with something ‘sexy.’”  Kurt rolled his eyes at that.  He didn’t know how to do sexy.

Kurt would have to wait through his third year AP French class before asking Mr. Schue who the new teacher was.  He’d asked Rachel, who sat two rows over and three seats up from him, but she had no clue either.  She had seen the new teacher, but hadn’t paid attention to him like Kurt had.  She, too, had thought he was a student because “he’s just so short and baby-faced.  Like a young Andy Kaufman.”

“I wonder where Mrs. LeFroy is.  She’s never late,” Rachel commented, her eyes darting to the door every few seconds to catch a glimpse of the middle-aged woman.  Like every other aspect of her life, Rachel liked impressing the French teacher.

When the final bell for class rang, the other students in class started to notice Mrs. LeFroy wasn’t there either.  They had all taken their seats when the bell rang, expecting the woman to come in and usher them to sit in their alphabetically assigned seats.   There were eighteen of them all together.  The only person Kurt knew was Rachel.  Everyone else was indifferent to Kurt.  There were only two he worried about because they’d bullied him last year.

When the din of noise started getting louder over Mrs. LeFroy’s absence, Kurt got the answer to both his and Rachel’s question.  The French teacher walked in.  The new French teacher.  The new French teacher with the bowtie and black polo shirt and bright red pants and white braided belt.  Kurt hadn’t noticed it before, but a pair of bright yellow sunglasses hung from the teacher’s left belt loop.  He was trying not to stare at the teacher or at least make it not obvious that he was.  With the man’s hair gelled into place, there was only one way to describe the overall appearance of their new teacher: modern dapper gentleman. 

"Sorry I’m late,” the teacher began in a smooth, amused voice.  “I got stuck talking to Coach Beiste about her name being French.  She wouldn’t let me go, she kept repeating it.”  He sat his leather, over-the-shoulder bag on the floor next to his desk.  “As you’ve probably guessed, I’m your new French teacher.  Mrs. LeFroy, unfortunately, had a mishap with a nudist leper colony in Burma and couldn’t join us again.  My name is Mr. Anderson,” he proceeded to point to the whiteboard, where his name had been written in scrawled, but neat, letters.  “I’m going to call roll, learn who you all are, and get started.  Does that sound alright to you all?”

Mr. Anderson’s French was perfectly fluent.  Mrs. LeFroy’s was good, but not as good as the new teacher’s.  It was solid, fluid, and made all the girls (and Kurt) swoon.

When all he got was a room full of silent, shocked nods, Mr. Anderson spoke again.  “I asked you guys a question.  I’d like an answer sometime today.  In French, please.  This is advanced placement, you should know how to answer.  Has lunch made you all forget the past two years of lessons?”

Finally, the class answered in a collective, but scattered, “Yes.”

“Much better!” Mr. Anderson praised.  He picked up his syllabus, reading down the list of names.  He would look at each student and memorize their faces as he called the name.  He asked if there was another name besides their first name they preferred to be called by. 

When he got to Kurt, Kurt wasn’t able to answer.  There was a sharp cough from across the room that sounded suspiciously like ‘queer.’ 

Kurt didn’t even bat an eye.  He was far beyond the point of being bothered by verbal insults.  He had grown immune to the derogatory words.  “Kurt is fine,” he told Mr. Anderson, his voice bland, almost bored.

It did, however, bother Mr. Anderson at how impassive Kurt seemed about the name.  He glanced at the other student to see if he could gauge the situation, but he couldn’t.  He didn’t know the school or the people in it well enough that he could make a fair call.  He didn’t say anything, but also didn’t forget.  He would just keep a closer eye out on Kurt to make sure it didn’t result in anything physical against the student.