Of course, he would have to deal with it in the building, but at least he could psych himself up in his own car.

He considered going to the Lima Bean for a morning coffee, but he was already way too jittery for his first morning and he doubted adding caffeine into his system would be a good idea. So he just ate his cereal with milk and tried not to vomit it back up as he avoided thinking about the day ahead of him.

By the time he finished eating and walked outside to his car, he had about thirty minutes until the beginning of first period, giving him plenty of time to arrive at school and receive his official class schedule and locker. Oh, and to calm himself down before actually exiting the vehicle.

It sounded like a good plan until he heard a, "Bye, Dads! I'll see you when I get home!" in a singsong voice before the slam of a front door.

He whipped his head to the source and almost dropped his keys.

Oh no.

Of course Rachel Berry lived next door. Of course she did.

He considered his options. He could roll over the hood of his car a la Jason Bourne and hide behind it until she drove away. Or he could side-shuffle awkwardly, his back facing her, to the driver's side of his car and somehow hide his face as he pulled out of the driveway. Both would spare him the inevitable confrontation and postpone it for another day.

Or she could twist her head over, catch his gaze, and gape at him, torn between shock and absolute anger.

"You!" she cried out dramatically, her finger pointing at him with her legs apart, as if readying herself for a physical confrontation.

He waved. "Hi, Rachel," he responded, trying to be friendly and cheerful.

Clearly she wasn't having any of it. "So you thought it would be a great idea to move next door to me, hoping to spy?!"

He cocked his head to the side. Did real people seriously think in that way? "…No…my parents literally rented this house a week ago, what –"

She flipped her hand up, palm facing him as she twisted her head to the side. "I don't want to hear your excuses, Warbler."

He opened his mouth to say something, but then he shut it again, not willing to continue this bizarre conversation anyway.

She made a hmph! sound as she walked the rest of the short distance to her little car. He sighed, turning slowly to his own, hoping that he would have no classes with her. Frankly, he had enough problems in his life and he didn't need her making things difficult with her melodramatic tendencies –

"No!"

Blaine heard her piercing scream.

He automatically jumped out of his car, his head swiveling to see what could've gotten her or frightened her, but he just saw her sitting in her car, hitting the steering wheel repeatedly.

He took his time inhaling and exhaling properly as he walked across the dividing grass strip between their driveways. Yes, he was a very good, generous human being, a gentleman, and he was going to inquire her status because that was just his character.

He always wondered what it would be like to be a douche bag, though. It must be nice sometimes, not caring about other people…

He gently rapped his knuckle against the passenger window, startling her from her one-sided fight with the steering wheel. She lowered the window about two inches. "What?" she snapped.

He blinked. "You do realize you screamed like you were being attacked by a murderer, right? In fact," he straightened himself out to look back at the house, "your…dads don't seem to care?"

She shrugged. "They can tell the difference between my normal drama and my serious drama."

There really shouldn't be a distinction, but he just accepted it out of a need to not think about it too closely. "There's something wrong with your car, then?"

"It won't start," she huffed, turning the ignition just to hear a clicking noise.

"The battery's dead," he answered automatically. He was about to turn back to his car for jumper cables until he remembered that they weren't in his car. He winced. "I don't have cables to jump start it. Would your…" he trailed off, not sure if he heard her right – Dads?

"No, they're terrible when it comes with technology," she answered with a sigh, crossing her arms and leaning back against her seat. "I suppose I'll have to call Finn –"

"I can drive you," he found himself offering because he was a gentleman.

She whipped her head to glare at him. "Are you kidding? Why would I just go with you? You'll try to silence me in a car accident and ruin my talent!"

He cringed at her shrieking. Why was her voice so loud? Had anyone ever told her that inside voices weren't just meant for indoor places? "That actually makes no sense," he retorted, "since that would mean I would risk hurting myself also."

It really was the worst explanation, but she seemed to accept it rather well. "Fine," she bit, getting out of her car, swinging her bag with her. She stomped past him toward his car. "If I see you driving down any suspicious alleys, know that I have a rape whistle!"

"Is that necessary with your voice?" he muttered to himself as he caught up with her.

He unlocked the doors and placed his bag in the backseat, watching Rachel inspect the passenger seat and glove compartment, for God knows what reason (was she hoping to find a gun in there or something?). After she seemed to have approved of the safety of his car, she got inside.

He got in after her, patting his pants pocket for his cell phone before sticking the key in the ignition.

Once the car started, he asked, "Is there only one way to get to the school, or is there a shortcut?"

She narrowed her eyes. What did he say this time that could somehow be incriminating? "Yeah, there's a shorter way. Take a left out of your driveway."

He followed her directions without question, trying to take note of the route, even though every street seemed to look the same, like all new places seemed to do. At one point, he turned on his stereo, his iPod in the middle of the musical version of Rent, which was the last thing he was listening to in his car.

She glared at "La Vie Boheme" flashing on the stereo. "You like Broadway."

He nodded. "Yes I do."

Silence.

"You know I won't fall for your charms," she declared with a smug expression on her face. "I have an amazing, wonderful, caring boyfriend and I would never –"

"I'm gay, Rachel."

She stopped her rant about Finn, whom he somewhat felt badly for, even though that was a terrible thing to think. He was sure that when she wasn't on her guard about potential spies, she was a lovely person.

"Well you better stay away from Kurt, then," she added threateningly, jabbing her finger about a few inches away from his face.

He was about to defend himself, saying that Kurt really didn't need a boyfriend at the moment, given all the problems he had to deal with. However, there really wasn't a point since Rachel, apparently, didn't listen to reason quite often.

He definitely planned on asking Kurt about that later.

Once he arrived at school (about seven minutes later than he wanted to), she flounced out of his car without saying anything. He stared after her for a moment before saying, "You're welcome, Rachel! It was my pleasure," to her empty seat.

Blaine only gave himself another minute or so, hoping his nerves wouldn't escalate into a panic attack, which he never wanted to experience again. He got out of the car and locked it twice, a bizarre habit he picked up from his father. His gaze was focused in front of him, ignoring the cliques congregated in the parking lot. The fear of being spotted, singled out, was eating him alive as he squeezed his hold on his new backpack, not wanting to fiddle with his clothes, which took over a half hour to pick out (dark jeans, Keds, v-neck, and one of his less attention-grabbing cardigans).

"Blaine!"

His heart seized in his chest out of immediate fear, but then his mind supplied a chorus of hallelujahs and cheesy back lighting as he watched Kurt stride over to his side. Blaine smiled at Kurt as best he could while Kurt gave him a rather uncertain smile himself.

"Hey," Blaine greeted Kurt as they walked toward the doors.

"Hey," Kurt exhaled. "How are you?" he tentatively asked, pushing the doors open right when a handful of hockey players sniggered. Blaine was convinced it was directed towards them, but he couldn't be sure.

"Okay, given the circumstances."

Kurt nodded, his eyes focused ahead of him. Blaine admired his profile, more than surprised at the change of appearance. When Blaine first met Kurt, he was half-broken, vulnerable, small. Here, in this dirty public school, Kurt carried himself tall, using his full height and pushing his shoulders back; he looked untouchable. Blaine knew Kurt was brave, but this – seeing Kurt do this when he knew what would happen throughout the day – just drove the point home that Kurt clearly capable of bravery that Blaine could only dream of.

"I heard you drove Rachel to school. My sympathies."

It took Blaine a few seconds to realize that Kurt just said something. "Wh – oh. Yeah. Her car wouldn't start. Dead battery."

"You didn't have –"

"Jumper cables? Not in my car."

Kurt lifted an eyebrow, impressed. Blaine flushed a little at the wordless praise; he forgot Kurt was pretty much a mechanic in his own right.

"It wasn't so bad," Blaine continued, making a left into the main office.

Kurt shot a perfect bitch, please glare, which almost made Blaine laugh.

"Okay, so she doesn't seem…very rational? When it comes to her talent?"

"Typical Rachel Berry," Kurt scoffed with a small smile. "Her voice is amazing," he admits, "flawless, almost. But her annoyance factor practically cancels everything out."

Blaine's about to ask Kurt about Rachel's obsession with spies when the secretary of the main office demanded to know why they were standing and talking within her hearing radius.

He never thought a place could be so mean.

"My name is Blaine Anderson, ma'am. I'm here to –"

"Ma'am? Do I look like a decrepit old hag?" the secretary snapped, glaring at Blaine.

Blaine spluttered, unable to believe that this was happening to him right now. He was just being polite! It was how he was raised, how the Dalton administration expected its students to treat their teachers!

A snarky part of Blaine couldn't help but think, it's not like you're fresh-face model in your frumpy clothes.

It's a side of Blaine that seemed to identify with Kurt, who brought a hand to his mouth for a moment, obviously trying to conceal a laugh, before lowering it again, tilting his head up with the corner of his mouth twitching.

"I was only trying to be –" Blaine started before the secretary slapped a few sheets of paper in front of him to shut him up.

"There's your schedule. Locker number and combo are printed underneath. Now get out – I'm in a bidding war with this bitch and I won't let some kids ruin my chances of getting Bon Jovi's –" Blaine never found out what it was, exactly, that this woman was trying to buy on eBay because Kurt practically dragged him out of the office, muttering under his breath.

"Sorry, but there was no way to politely extract yourself from that," Kurt said as he tilted his head closer to Blaine's, trying to read his schedule. This was the closest Blaine had ever been to another boy in a while and it shook him a little bit, even though he couldn't keep his eyes away.

Which was how Blaine noticed the slight frown.

"What's wrong? Do I have a teacher I should watch out for?" Blaine tried to joke.

"Oh, well yes, the Latin department is run by a man whom I'm pretty sure stopped grading assignments a decade ago" – Blaine's jaw dropped – "But that wasn't what – your homeroom. We're in homeroom together," Kurt finished flatly before worrying his bottom lip.

"Oh! Well…"

Kurt picked up on Blaine's uncomfortable expression and hastened to backtrack. "No, no, I don't mean that – it's good. To have someone you know in homeroom," he rambled, a faint blush to his cheeks. "I just have some concerns regarding the rest of my homeroom."

A sense of foreboding crept up Blaine's spine. "Why?"

Kurt exhaled as he led the way to their homeroom. "Our homeroom is in the choir room with New Directions," he revealed quickly, shooting a pained smile.

Yep, it was official: his life was straight out of a bad comedy. "You're joking."

Kurt lightly patted Blaine on the back before quickly withdrawing his hand, which tempted Blaine to pull Kurt in for a hug or something. This was what homophobic public school did to kids like Kurt and Blaine: made them think they weren't worthy of touching anyone at all.

"Well… maybe they've slept on it and have come to the logical conclusion that I'm not a threat?" Blaine tried as they stopped in front of the choir room.

Kurt only stared at Blaine blankly before opening the door, gesturing forward. "Sure."

Clearly, that was a yeah, right in the most sarcastic way possible.

When they walked in together, it took everyone about three seconds for everyone to yell at once.

"Why'd you bring the spy?!" Rachel shrieked.

"Dude, what the hell!"

"Burn the witch!"

…What?

Half of the glee club turned its gaze to Brittany, who had said it without the least bit of irony.

In Blaine's opinion, it took Mr. Schue way too long to get everyone to stop yelling.

"Guys, guys, settle down," Mr. Schue directed the glee club before turning his attention to Blaine. "This is your homeroom?" he asked him.

Blaine nodded. "Yeah, says so on my schedule," he answered, flipping the piece of paper so it faced Mr. Schue.

Mr. Schue held out his hand, wordlessly asking for Blaine to hand over his schedule. For a rebellious moment, Blaine considered not handing over; wasn't the teacher, the adult, supposed to be mature and not believe in outlandish theories?

But Blaine had been groomed by Dalton, so it was automatic that he gave his schedule to him. Mr. Schue read it for a few seconds before declaring, "This is legitimate, guys."

"You said that about Jesse St. Jackass and look what happened there!" Puck retorted.

Rachel winced and visibly tightened her hold around Finn's arm.

Blaine shot Kurt an inquiring look, but he was looking down at his shoes.

"With him here, how the hell are we gonna rehearse for Sectionals?" Finn agreed, but Blaine wondered if it was because of the death grip Rachel currently had him in.

There was a surge of agreement, broken when Kurt snapped, "We never end up planning for any competition until the week before – we're suddenly going to start to now?" with a roll of his eyes.

"The she-male has a point," Santana drawled as she filed her nails in the back row. "I say we ask him to join." She winked at Blaine, causing him to flush in embarrassment.

"Are you kidding, Santana? We can't just let him join after last year!" Quinn argued.

"Get him switched out!"

"He can sit out in the hall or something!"

"Burn the witch!"

"I don't even want to join," Blaine said, louder than he thought.

The room immediately quieted down, every pair of eyes focused on Blaine.

Blaine may be used to being the center of attention when performing, backed by his fellow Warblers and on a stage where no one could touch him. This was nothing like it and it was so much worse.

But his loyalty to Dalton and his friends made him stand his ground. "I don't want to compete against the Warblers. I can't do that to my friends. I just can't," Blaine stated.

"And we're supposed to trust you to not tell them about our set list? To not give them the one up?" Rachel demanded.

"At Dalton we adhere to a strict honor code that condones any form of foul play that includes and is not limited to cheating," Blaine replied sharply. "Even if I were to stoop that low, they wouldn't listen to me. We're – they're a lot better than that."

“Take a seat, Blaine,” Mr. Schue directed him, handing back his class schedule. Blaine took it, following Kurt to a seat as they sat down. Thankfully, Kurt chose seats apart from the group as they could be, and Blaine sat next to him, as far from the rest of New Directions as he could get.

“So who has ideas for our set list for Sectionals?” Mr. Schue asked. Blaine stared at the teacher, startled that he would just delve right into that subject after the big ruckus the other members had just made.

Stone faces were the only reply that was given, aside from glares in his direction. Blaine slouched in his seat.

This sucked.

He checked his watch and sighed.

It was going to be the longest 45 minutes of his life.

~**~

Blaine tore out of the choir room as if his ass was on fire the minute the bell rang, intent on finding his locker.

“Blaine, wait!” Kurt called. Blaine slowed, but only marginally, ignoring the stares of the kids in the hallway as Kurt caught up to him.

Kurt didn’t say anything; he just fell in step beside him, which Blaine appreciated. They were silent until they reached Blaine’s locker. He sighed, resisting the urgent to bang his head into the metal – it would make such a satisfying sound. He’d only been at McKinley for barely an hour and he was already just done with the place.

“They’re not so bad, you know,” Kurt told him quietly, leaning against the lockers next to Blaine’s. “They’re just…”

“Obsessed with spies?” Blaine couldn’t help but snark.

“Something like that,” Kurt answered with a smile, “but with good reason.”

“Must be a hell of a reason.” Kurt chuckled.

“It is.” He looked like he was going to explain, but another voice broke into their conversation.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Karofsky snapped.

Fantastic, Blaine thought. Just what I needed.

“Not that it’s any of your business, Karofsky,” Blaine began, “but I go to school here now.” He shouldn’t have, but he kind of enjoyed the way Karofksy’s face drained its color. Blaine glanced at Kurt, who’d lost all color in his face as well. He was wearing an unreadable expression, his eyes wide as he stared at Karofsky.

Okay, am I missing something? Or is Kurt still freaked out about the kiss?

“You better watch your step, Fairy,” Karofsky snarled, brushing past him hard, knocking him off balance and causing him to brace himself against his locker.

“Oh, look; someone else who’s not happy that I’m here,” he muttered, “I should form a club.” With that, he slammed his locker shut. Kurt jumped, and Blaine felt bad. “Sorry, I’ll just…I’ll see you later.” With that, Blaine stalked off into the crowd, intent on finding his next class.

~**~

Kurt found him in the hall a few classes later.

“How’s it going?” he asked, biting his lip.

“Okay,” Blaine answered. “No more encounters with Karofsky, and no more accusations of being a spy.”

“That’s good.”

“Though I had Geometry with Finn, and he glared at me the whole time.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Kurt promised, “All of them.”

“Kurt, they’re gonna think what they want.”

“I know, I just…” he trailed off. “I wish you’d reconsider joining. You’re amazing, and we could use you.” Blaine was pretty sure he was blushing now.

“I can’t just turn my back on the Warblers, Kurt,” Blaine told him.

“But wouldn’t they want you to be happy here?”

“Face it, Kurt,” Blaine sighed as they rounded a corner. “I’m never going to be happy here.”

The fact of which was made abundantly clear as he was promptly doused in the face with a slushie.

Ice crystals and purple food coloring covered his face and hair, and his eyes burned as the liquid seeped into them.

“Welcome to McKinley, Fag!” Someone jeered as he did his best not to cry. He couldn’t do that, not here. He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.

“Come on.” Kurt put his arm around Blaine’s shoulders and steered him in the direction of what Blaine hoped was the bathroom. “Keep your eyes closed,” he advised, “It burns less that way.”

~**~

“So, welcome to McKinley,” Kurt voice sounded thin and nervous. “You’re officially one of us now.”

“Does the burning stop?” Blaine asked, glancing at him with blurred vision.

“After a few minutes,” Kurt answered.

“This happens a lot.” It wasn’t a question. Kurt nodded.

“I’ve lost track of the number of times I’ve been slushied.”

“Great,” Blaine muttered. “How did he know…he called me…?” He couldn’t get the words out.

“Oh, that,” Kurt replied, “You were slushied by Azimio Adams. He’s kind of friends with Karofsky.”

“What are you doing?” Blaine asked, as Kurt suddenly whipped his phone out of his pocket, and began typing.

“Texting Finn for a change of clothes for you,” Kurt told him. “I assume you didn’t bring any?” Blaine shook his head. “Anything I have will be too small, so I’m going to have Finn bring you something.”

“Let’s hope he doesn’t put itching powder in it first.”

“Don’t be silly,” Kurt arched an eyebrow at Blaine. “Finn’s not that clever.”

~**~

It felt like they’d been in the bathroom forever when Finn finally burst in, t-shirt wadded up in his hand.

By that time, Blaine’s eyes had stopped burning, and he’d managed to wash all the slushie (as well as the hair product) out of his hair. He’d tamed the curls as best he could, but it wasn’t the same.

“Thanks, Finn.” Kurt took the shirt from Finn’s hands and handed it to Blaine.

“Dude, if I had known it was for him –“

“You wouldn’t have come,” Kurt answered for him. “I know…and no, I won’t tell Rachel.” Finn let out a sigh of relief. Blaine snorted, slipping his cardigan off and then lifting his damp t-shirt over his head. His eyes found Kurt’s and their gazes locked for a long moment. Blaine felt his heart rate speed up, and fought back a smile as Kurt’s cheeks flushed. Kurt quickly averted his eyes, but that was enough for Blaine to know that Kurt definitely liked what he saw.

Oblivious, Finn broke the silence.

“You seem okay, Dude,” he said to Blaine. “What’d you get slushied for?”

“Because I’m gay,” Blaine answered honestly, slipping the shirt on. It was baggy and way too big, but it was dry, and that was what mattered.

“You’re gay?” Finn sounded shocked. “But you’re not –"

“Like me?” Kurt cut him off again.

“Well…yeah,” Finn agreed, looking a little ashamed.

“Well that’s offensive,” Blaine replied. “Yes, Finn, I’m gay.”

“I didn’t mean to…” Finn started to say.

“Its okay, Finn.” Kurt put a hand on Finn’s shoulder and pushed him toward the door. “I got it from here.”

~**~

The rest of the day passed relatively smoothly compared to the morning, and Blaine was almost giddy at the thought of going home. In fact, he’d been halfway to his car, each step taking him away from this horrible place when he stopped, a thought hitting him.

Crap.

Rachel.

He almost kept going, but the part of him that was still a gentleman, the part of him that had offered her a ride this morning in the first place wouldn’t let him. He sighed (he’d done that a lot today), and turned back around, heading for the choir room. He could hear music coming from the open doors (and he nearly laughed – for a group so concerned with spies they sure let anyone see what they were doing).

He poked his head in to see them watching as Rachel belted out the last note of a song he couldn’t quite place, and then they all clapped.

“Witch!” Brittany cried out, and Blaine closed his eyes, steeling himself for the onslaught.

“So you are a spy!” Rachel shrieked, and Blaine shuddered as her shrill tone filled his ears.

“For the last time, I’m not spying,” Blaine denied. “I thought I would be a nice guy and see if you wanted a ride home.”

Slightly mollified, Rachel stared at him for a moment. “Fine.”

“I’ll be in the library then.” Blaine told her. “Come find me when you’re done.”

“Blaine, wait.” Kurt stood up and crossed over to him. “Stay.”

“Kurt, we’ve been through this.”

“You’ll have fun.” Kurt promised.

“You’re more than welcome to join us, Blaine.” Mr. Schue chimed in, despite the protestations of the group.

“Come on,” Kurt nearly begged, and Blaine couldn’t bear to tell him no again.

“Yeah, okay,” he agreed. He followed Kurt to the seats they’d had that morning, and sat down. His heart was torn – he wanted to sing, he loved it. He never felt more alive than when he was up on a stage performing – but his heart also belonged to the Warblers, and this felt like betrayal.

The seat next to Blaine was suddenly filled by Brittany, whose hand was suddenly in his hair. “It’s so fluffy,” she happily commented, petting his curls.

“He’s not a dog, Brit,” Kurt said to her, his tone gentle.

“You should feel them, Kurt,” Brittany smiled. “They’re so soft.”

“Thanks, I think.” Blaine said, tugging Brittney’s hand out of his hair lightly. He glanced at Kurt, who was blushing again, and wondered if it had anything to do with Kurt actually wanting to touch his hair.

Mr. Schue was writing song suggestions on a dry erase board at the front of the room when Santana dropped down into the seat in front of him. Kurt arched an eyebrow at her, but she ignored him, focusing on Blaine.

“So, Curly Sue,” she said, “You and me. Breadstix. Six o’clock.” Santana tossed her hair. “Don’t be late.”

“No, thanks,” Blaine refused. Every head in the room was turned toward him now. “That’s a lovely offer, Santana, but I’m not interested.” He smiled. “Not on your team.”

No one said anything for a long moment, but then Rachel called out “'I’ll Be There for You' by The Rembrandts.”

“Good choice, Rachel. You guys want to give it a whirl?” Mr. Schue agreed.

It was decided that Puck and Rachel would take lead. Blaine sat back, prepared to observe.

So no one told you
Life was gonna be this way
your job's a joke, you're broke,
Your love life's D.O.A.

Rachel launched into the song, the members of the McKinley High Jazz Band (or so the drum read) joined in, as well as an older guy on the piano. Blaine had barely noticed them with all the drama in the room.

It's like you're always
Stuck in second gear
When it hasn't been your day, your week
your month or even your year but

Puck joined her, and Blaine had to admit they sounded good together.

I'll be there for you
(When the rain starts to pour)
I'll be there for you
(Like I've been there before)
I'll be there for you
('Cause you're there for me too)

As they went into the chorus, the rest of New Directions joined in, and then everyone was up and dancing but him and Kurt.

You're still in bed at ten
And work began at eight
you’ve burned your breakfast
So far things are going great

Blaine couldn’t believe it. Even when they were just winging it, trying out a new song, they sounded great.

Your mother warned you
There’d be days like these
But she didn't tell you when the world
has brought you
Down to your knees that

The words of the song kind of hit home for him, but he shook off the melancholy feeling when Kurt took his hand. He glanced down at their joined hands, and then up at Kurt’s face. Kurt was smiling and then tugging on his arm, pulling him up.

I'll be there for you
(When the rain starts to pour)
I'll be there for you
(Like I've been there before)
I'll be there for you
('Cause you're there for me too)

He let Kurt pull him into the group, getting caught up in the number, and joining in the song, dancing around.

No one could ever know me,
No one could ever see me
since you're the only one who knows what its like to be me
Someone to face the day with, make it through all the rest with
someone I'll always laugh with
Even at my worst,
I'm best with you, yeah

Somehow he and Kurt ended up singing the bridge alone, and he was startled by the look in Kurt’s eyes as they sang.

It's like you're always
Stuck in second gear
When it hasn't been your day, your week
your month, or even your year

Everyone else joined back in, and the moment was broken, but now Blaine was sure.

He might be in love with Kurt.

I'll be there for you
(When the rain starts to pour)
I'll be there for you
(Like I've been there before)
I'll be there for you
('Cause you're there for me too)

The dancing got wilder and more creative, and Blaine was tempted to hop on the piano, but one look from the guy playing indicated he might not appreciate that.

I'll be there for you
(When the rain starts to pour)
I'll be there for you
(Like I've been there before)
I'll be there for you
('Cause you're there for me too)

The song came to a close, and everyone clapped and cheered as Mr. Schue told them what a good job they’d done.

And then just like that, Glee was over for the day, and he was walking toward the school exit with Rachel, Kurt and Finn walking behind them.

“Just because you can sing doesn’t mean you can join us, you know,” she told him. “But for the record, you are really good.”

“Thanks, Rachel,” Blaine replied.

“I’ve got my eyes on you.” Blaine tried not to laugh as she pulled Finn away to say goodbye.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Kurt asked.

“Yeah,” Blaine answered. He reached out a hand to straighten Kurt’s collar, where his shoulder bag strap had messed it up. “You will.”

Kurt smiled at him again, and Blaine was filled with sudden warmth…which lasted only until he remembered he had to get back into a car with Rachel.