Pacing the bottom of the stairs for the umpteenth time, he starts to lose his patience. "Quinn," Kurt screams up the stairs of their shared home, "if you don't hurry your ass down here now, I swear to fucking god I will drag you down here by your nose ring."

"Damn." Quinn teases, her boots clunking down the stairs with each step. "A little moody this morning, aren't we?"

Kurt glares at her. "Well, somebody did have my last cigarette last night." Sighing, he continues. "We are back at school today and I don't have a pack. Puck'll be mad if we try to bum off of him again. By we, I mean you."

"Why not bum off the other girls?" Quinn questions as she laces her boots.

Taking in Quinn's outfit, Kurt bursts out laughing. When Quinn sends him an icy looks, he continues to laugh. "I know you like to dress like that," he nods in her direction, indicating her shorts with ripped tights and thermal shirt, "but if you're gonna bum those disgusting stokes from the Skanks, you're just going to freeze yourself under those bleachers."

"I'll be fine." She assures him after a pause. Of course she had to think.

"It's the middle of the fucking winter." He deadpans.

Quinn says nothing as she straightens herself and walks over to the mirror. After fixing her beanie, she finally informs Kurt that they should leave or else they'll be late.

The car ride was silent between the two with only a random mix playing softly throughout the car's speakers. Until Quinn broke it to apologize. "I know you worry about me." She starts. "I forget sometimes. We go out, we get drunk, we get high, and we fuck things up. We've created our little bubble. I forget that it exists sometimes. I know you don't want it to pop. And I don't want it to pop either."

Kurt takes a hold of her left hand and squeezes, never letting go. It wasn't until they got to the hospital that he finally spoke up. "Let's go visit him."

Blaine inhaled the sweet smell of winter air as he sped down his neighborhood street on his Harley-Davidson motorcycle, his fingerless leather gloves gripping the handlebars tightly as he gained momentum, turning a corner and speeding right through a stop sign only for a car on the right side to honk at a deafening volume. He turned another corner and finally slowed down the engine to park in the driveway of a small run down cottage, not too unusual for a broken down town like Lima, Ohio. He parked his motorcycle near the garage and jogged over to the front door, hearing the pounding booms of bases and loud techno music from the ajar windows. He pounded on the door, figuring the doorbell was useless, and the door swung open to reveal his friend Mikey.

"Blaine fucking Anderson." Mikey grins, pulling Blaine into a hug before pulling back to shout back into the house. "Hey Louis! Grab the good stuff, Blainey's back!"

"No, no I just want my regular." Blaine smiles, removing his aviator sunglasses and tucking them into his shirt. He peeked behind Mikey to see girl after girl pressed to each other on the dance floor inside the living room.

"Isn't it a little early to be partying? It's seven o'clock."

"Might as well start while we can." Mikey shrugs before grabbing two large zip lock bags of rolled up, pre-packaged weed and tossing them to Blaine. "Here you go, that should last you a month."

Blaine snorted. "Not with the people I have to deal with everyday. I'll be here by next Monday." He slipped the boy money and gave him a wink before heading down the steps of the house.

He jumped up on his bike and started to speed down the route to school. Although he was already thirty minutes late to first period, he wouldn't show up to the first four anyway, he had a date with the couch under the bleachers and a nice pack of weed.

He parked in his chemistry teacher's parking spot right at the front of the school, his favorite thing to do in the morning, and left to sneak behind the school with his small skull covered backpack thrown over his shoulder. He made his way around the back of the school through the courtyard, and found his way to the football field. He ducked under the steps of the bleachers and opened the gate, tossing his backpack somewhere on the graveled floor and collapsing back on the torn up couch the Skanks had smuggled from the teachers lounge, filled with cigarette stains on his own part and god knows what else. He sat back and crossed his legs, grabbing a joint from his bag and popping it into his mouth, removing his Italian leather jacket before he grabbed a lighter and started his morning school routine, the smoke of his joint filling up the sweet fresh air of an early morning day.

"I'll catch up with you later, yeah?" Quinn asks when she spots Santana and Brittany outside the school.

Kurt rolls his eyes, knowing what might happen. Quinn may not have told him, but just like everyone else, he has his ways of finding out. So in this case, Puck found out though one of the other Skanks. "Whatever." He shoves her towards their friends.

Trudging through the snow, Kurt decides to see if he can bum something off of anyone. He smelt it before he really got to the bleacher. Thank god. He thought. When he finally reaches the back of the couch under the bleachers, he takes the joint out of this mysterious person's mouth. "Y'know," He inspects the white paper, "I was able to smell this before I got by here."

Blaine peered up through his sunglasses to see a familiar looking Skank standing over him. Giving him an annoyed look as the joint relaxing his muscles was removed from his mouth. "And I bet the people in Japan can smell that horrid cologne you wear." He reached up and snatched the joint from the pale boys hands. " I wouldn't suggest taking someone's blunt like that, I paid hard earned money for this."

"Wow. That's such a great comback there." Kurt replied coolly. "And don't worry. I know where to get my own." Speaking of that, he needs to find Puck, but that can wait.

Blaine raised his eyebrows in amusement. "You smoke?" He took a drag from the rolled up weed and puffed it out in a sigh. "Being a Skank, I guessed you set plastic Barbie legs on fire and got a kick from that."

Taking the chance, Kurt takes the joint again from the boy's laxed hand and takes a drag, holding the smoke in for a moment before puffing it out.

Blaine would have been completely irritated that someone was taking up all the weed in his joint, but something about the brunette boy in front of him made him rather chuckle in response. "You've got balls, kid." He taps his fingers on the seat cushion next to him. "If you're going to steal my weed, though, you have to pay the price."

"Depends on if I need more." He smirks before taking another drag, feeling the smoke fill his lungs. "And what your price is." He breathes out.

Blaine's eyes flutter closed for a moment as the puff of smoke from Kurt's mouth hits his face, and he opens his eyes again with a smirk tugged up on his lips. "Well I prefer cash, but with you..." He eyes Kurt up and down, shrugging. "A little kiss and a thank you will do."

Kurt contemplates this offer before taking another drag, leaning down and breathing out a, "Thank you," against Blaine's lips before giving him a chaste kiss. What can he say? An attractive guy is an attractive guy.

Blaine allows Kurt's lips to press against his own, the slight scent of weed lingering on his thin pink lips, and he can't think but that Kurt's lips had the best taste. "No problem," he murmurs, "now scat. This is my territory for the rest of the school day, and Puckerman's."

"Puck?" Kurt straightens up from the back of the couch. "Shit." He mutters to himself.

Blaine popped his joint in his mouth and let it dangle. "You got a problem with the Puckerman?"

Kurt gives him an odd look. "Not at all." He then says aloud, "Why do you care?"

Blaine merely smiled. "You just look like the type of boy who looks for trouble in all the wrong places." He gives him a snarky wink.

Kurt scoffs. "Like you should be talking." He taps at Blaine's feet so he can sit there. "But I actually have to wait for him. So I'm gonna wait here for him. And if you don't move your feet, I'm going to sit on your fucking shins." He says sweetly.

"Feisty and stubborn, I like it." Blaine mused, removing his feet and patting his lap. "Why don't you just sit here on papa's lap and tell him what you're waiting for ol' Puckerman to give you, I bet its decent cigarettes. And I can tell you, he's got nothing but packs of garbage he found near trash cans."

"I'd rather not contract anything." He smirks before hopping over the back of the couch and putting his feet on Blaine's lap. "But I'm buying more packs later. I don't need Puckerman for that."

Blaine relaxes back with his head resting on his arms and grins down at Kurt's booted feet on his lap. "So you say, but what about that friend Quinnie of yours? You know the blondie who nearly tore my head off last Friday at homecoming?"

Kurt raises an eyebrow. "What about, Q?"

Blaine takes the joint out of his mouth and rolls his eyes. "You wouldn't know, of course. She caught me sneaking around with her little Cheerio babe and is all pissy. I need to have a nice talk with her."

Kurt thinks about Blaine's response for a moment. "Blonde or Brunette?"

"Brunette, the blonde one won't even go near me because she's convinced I'm Chris Angel or some shit." Blaine snorts. "The brunette one, you know...that latina one? You know her?"

"I figured it was, Satan." Kurt leans his head back against the armrest. "Can I have another drag?" He asks with his hand held out.

"Satan..." Blaine chuckled loudly. "Now that's a new one, I'll use it the next time she nearly bites off my dick in the boy's locker room." He grabs a ziplock back filled with pot from his backpack and tosses it to Kurt. "Take one, and one only." He gazes at Kurt for a moment before asking. "Hard month for you?"

Kurt opens the bag and inspects the different wrappings, choosing a nice one, in his opinion--not too big, not too small. "Hard year." He replies, tossing the bag back.

Blaine nods, tucking the bag away before running a hand through his wild curls. "I can understand that." He clears his throat. "Well it looks like you either need a pot dealer or your dick sucked some time to relieve some steam so, before you leave I can hook you up with either one." He sent another wink Kurt's way, tossing his joint on the ground and smashing it with his foot.

Kurt thinks about it. "Well, I already have a dealer..." He trails off. "But I may have to take you up on the other offer sometime in the future." Kurt looks over at Blaine.

Blaine grins sheepishly. "I'm flattered, Hummel, just give me a call and that little dick of yours will be sucked like no tomorrow." He yawned before peering across the field and seeing a tall, bald teen making their way to the bleachers. "Puck's here, you better meet up with him and scram before he brings the real stuff out."

Kurt releases a chuckle before responding with a wink and a, "Who says that I'm little?" before getting up and walking over to Puck.

Blaine licks his dry, chapped lips, eyeing Kurt up and down as the pale teen walked away, and with a quick glance at the boys ass in his tight jeans he mumbled to himself, "Can't wait to see it, then."

When Puckerman's figure get closer, Kurt picks up his own pace with his hands in his pockets. "Puck!" He yells out, grabbing the boy's attention.

Puck grins as he sees Kurt across the football field, and yanks the boy into a hug once he reaches him near the gate of the bleachers. "Hey!" He squeezes the boy tightly, lifting him off his feet and setting him down with a hard pat to his back. "How's my favorite Skankie doing?"

Kurt gives Puck a sad smile. "Quinn and I went again this morning." He admits.

Puck shoots Kurt a sympathetic look and rubs his shoulder. "I know it's hard, Kurt, but I'm here for you and Quinn is too, things will get better."

Kurt grabs onto Puckerman, trying not to cry. "I just miss him." He explains. "I sleep in his room and in his shirts, but nothing works." He whispers against the other boy's chest, "It's not the same."

Puck sighs heavily. "I'm so sorry. I wish I could make everything better but I can't, this is out of our control." He pulls back to look Kurt in the eyes. "But you have to stay strong for me, Burt Hummel of all people would want his own son to stay strong and live his legacy, right?"

Kurt smirks and shakes his head a little. "What legacy would that even be?" He asks.

Puck rolls his eyes. "Of being a badass dude with a no bullshit policy! Your dad was a tough one to crack."

Kurt chuckles. "Ya gotta point there." He looks at his phone to check the time. "I have to go meet up with Quinn. Come around to the house later, yeah?" He asks before pecking Puck's cheek. "We'll all get shitfaced together."

Puck grinned. "Sounds perfect, I love getting smoked out at your house, plus it's more fun with Quinn nagging me about stealing all the smoke in the bong." He ruffled Kurt's head. "See ya later, kid." He started to head over to where he spotted Blaine's mop of curly head under the bleachers.

Meanwhile, Blaine had been watching the two converse, hug, kiss cheeks and embrace. And on the outside he of course kept his stone cold expression, but on the inside when Puckerman and Kurt embraced, he felt this awful twinge of jealousy in his stomach. He ignored it, though, he was Blaine fucking Anderson he never felt jealous of anybody. He heard the gate click closed and looked up to see Puck.

"Hey Anderson." Puck greeted, collapsing on the cushion next to him. "You got the stuff?"

"Sure do." Blaine tossed him the second bag of weed. "Pay up big boy."

Puck grinned down at the bag and tossed a fifty dollar bill at Blaine. "Thank you, Jesus, for blessing me with an excuse to get out of fourth period Geometry."

Blaine forced a laugh, taking a drag of what was now his fourth joint, and he suddenly snapped at Puck. "So, since when have you and Hummel been sucking dicks?"

Puck gave him a look, one of his 'are you kidding me looks.' "Oh please, Kurt is one of my good friends, he's a nice kid and I care about him. Why do you ask-..." His eyes widened and then he snickered. "Holy shit, Blaine, you're jealous!"

Blaine scoffed. "Shut the hell up."

"Oh no, you are jealous, I see that possessive look in your eyes."

"I'm wearing sunglasses...."

"I know Blaine Anderson and when he wants something, he questions it."

"Puck would you quit, he's a skank you know I prefer Cheerios that don't talk back to me."

"Fuck it, I can tell you got the hots for Hummel."

Blaine huffed and turned away. "He's hot, but I have better asses to grab."

"Yeah, sure." Puck snorted, changing the subject. "Pass the lighter would ya?" He lit up his joint before shrugging. "Well Kurt and Quinn are having a pot roast at their house, and by pot roast I mean we're gathering cigarettes and joints and setting them on the floor to pick and choose from. You can come if you want."

Blaine shrugged as well. "I don't think I'm very welcome there."

"Come on, you'll be my guest."

Blaine turned towards Puck. "Really?"

"It's your chance to show Hummel what you got."

"We'll see..." Blaine trails off, a small grin on his lips.

"You smell like weed." Is the first thing that Quinn says to Kurt when he finds her in the hallways. "Who were you even with?"

"Anderson." He admits, not caring what Quinn has to say about it.

Quinn groans. "Really, Kurt? Really?"

"I needed to smoke something and he was under the bleachers."

"And I thought you said that I was gonna freeze?" She scoffs.

"You were inside." He points out. "So you were fine." He sighs. "Puck's coming by later. Bring San and Brit after school? I'm gonna get the supplies."

"How many packs are you getting?"

"Well," He thinks, "you need some packs and I need some so we don't have a replay of last night. And I need some for tonight. So..." He trails off, trying to calculate. "I'll let you know later. I'm not as fucked up as I want to be right now."

"I'll have Santana bring the liquor while we're at it."

"Puck'll probably supply in some way or another." He says as the bell rings. "Shit. What period is it?"

"Dude. It's fourth period." She chuckles. "Fuck it." She grabs his hand.

"Where are you taking me?" He asks as Quinn drags him behind her. "You're gonna rip my arm off of my body. I would really like to keep this arm. And my other body parts."

"We are going to 'you-know-who' for supplies." She shrugs.

Kurt groans. "Fine." What the hell is she about to get me into? *

Blaine strolled through the empty halls of Mckinley, his heeled boots clicking on the tiled floors as he made his way to seventh period spanish. He felt a hand grab the sleeve of his jacket and yank him into a nearby janitorial closet. He yelped as he was pushed inside the small spaced room, and felt hot breath against his neck.

"Hi Anderson."

Blaine craned his neck and rolled his eyes. "Santana I'd much appreciate it if you gave me a warning before yanking me into confined spaces. I'm what you call a claustrophobic."

Santana snorted, spinning Blaine around and placing her hands on his chest. "But that's no fun, I like surprising you."

Blaine raised an eyebrow. "You sound like you want something. Is it money?"

"You know me so well." Santana snickered. "No, I need some of that weed you got from your dealer this morning."

"Stalker." Blaine murmurs, feeling her hands start to slide down his chest and hook into his jean's belt.

"Oh hush," she leans up to whisper in his ear, "I'll calm down Quinn's wrath for you if you get me some."

Blaine gave it a moment of thought. "Good offer, but no. I'm broke right now, babe, no can do."

Santana huffed and grabbed Blaine by his shirt, yanking him close to her. "Listen to me, you stinking culo, I've been saving your ass this whole year, now get me my weed or no more under the desk fun."

Blaine groans as Santana lets go of his shirt, smoothing out the wrinkles and sending her a glare through the dimly lighted room. "Fine. And by the way I'm going to Kurt's this afternoon, so get your little girl toy calm by then and I'll get you a pack to last you the rest of the month."

Santana beams, stepping close and pressing a wet kiss to Blaine's lips, nipping at his bottom lip. "Thanks hottie," she chimes, shoving him out of her way so she could sway out of the janitorial closet.

Blaine stepped out after her and leaned against the doorway with a huff of breath, glaring after the latina and swearing under his breath. "I hate girls."

"Thank you and come again." Stoner Brett nods in the two pale teenagers direction, counting his money. Kurt rolls his eyes and bites his tongue after Brett's statement. Brett still smells homeless so Kurt wouldn't doubt it if he does sleep on the streets.

"Let's go, Kurt" Quinn drags him away again. When they were away from Brett, She take the bag out of Kurt's pocket. "We still have skins at home, right?"

"Yes." He assures her. "And are you an idiot?" He quickly takes the bag and puts it in his pocket again. "There might be tobacco in Spliff, but I'd rather not get in trouble again with Figgins for what else is in here."

"Shut up." She shoves him. "Figgins loves you."

Kurt laughs. "I know he does." He then looks at Quinn. "You're getting slow there, Q. You didn't even catch that I was joking."

"Oh shut the fuck up." She shoves him again. "Let's go put this away in the car for now. You need to show up for something."

"Promises, promises, promises." Kurt mutters under his breath. "Why did I agree to that again?"

"Because unlike a lot of people in this shithole, you can make it." She tells him honestly. To which Kurt scoffs at. "Hey now." She scolds him.

"I'm not talking about it." He starts to walk ahead of her to his car. After putting the bag of Spliff safely away, he slams the door shut. "My bag's in the trunk, right?"

"Hell if I know."

"Shit." He walks around to the back of the Navigator and opens it. "Well," He says when he reveals that it's empty, "There goes that."

You have lunch, French, and some other classes that you're really got at. You don't need your bag."

"Let's go so Shue doesn't give a fit when he doesn't see me somewhere."

"What about Sue?"

"I'm not worried about her finding me in the halls." He shrugs. "At least she doesn't lecture me and ask 'What would your dad think if he knew how much school you're missing?'"

Quinn wraps her arm tightly around his waist and resting her head on his shoulder while they walk back into the school.

Santana swayed down the hallway, her Cheerio uniform riding up her thighs as he made a beeline straight to where she spotted Quinn stuffing textbooks into her lockers. She made her way over to the girl and leaned against the locker next to hers, smiling sweetly. "Hey, Q."

"What do you need me to do?" Quinn continues to try to add a couple more books into her already too-stuffed locker, peaking at her friend from the corner of her eye.

"Can I ever get a polite answer for once?" Santana rolls her eyes. "I need a favor."

Quinn shuts her locker without anything falling out. "You can never get a polite answer from me because of all the favors I do for you." She quirks an eyebrow, challenging the other girl.

Santana merely shrugs. "I only ask because you always do them for me." She smiles smugly. "Now what I need you to do is to lay off Blaine for a while, he's terrified by you and won't deal me weed unless you lay off the glares and threats." She wraps an arm around Quinn's waist and uses her other hand to tuck Quinn's bangs back into her beanie. "And although I love your rough side, I need pot, and if 'Tana don't get her pot, then 'Tana isn't a happy girl."

Quinn leans in close to Santana's ear and whispers, "As long as I get some of it, we have a deal." before trailing kisses down Santana's neck. When she comes back up to the other girl's ear, she whispers her own favor. "And can you bring around some booze tonight? Also give me a ride back to my place?"

"Deal, just as long as I get to stay at your place." Santana presses her own lips to Quinn's, lingering before mumbling quietly. "I'll bring the best booze bottles from my abuelita's liquor cabinet. But I have to warn you, I'm bad at sharing." She reaches around to smack Quinn's ass, making her way back down the hallway as the bell rings.

Quinn shakes her head before yelling out, "Don't forget to bring Brit!" She heads in the opposite direction and walks down the hallway to her next class, bag swinging next to her hip.

Blaine sat in the far back of the cafeteria with the rest of the leather jacket studded teens, a cigarette hanging off his lips and a random Cheerio sitting across his lap, her arms wrapped around his neck. Blaine was chuckling at one of Puck's jokes, snaking a hand up and down the girls thigh as he chimes in. "Hey you bringing the beer to Kurt's tonight?"

"Well look at mister eager over there. Maybe, maybe not, if my fake photo ID works then yes."

The girl on his lap nuzzles her face into his neck, and Blaine wrinkled his nose before shoving her away. "Do you mind? I'm eating." He rolls his eyes, and takes a swipe of the cupcake icing off his tray, licking his finger. "I'm just looking forward to a good night."

"Yeah with your lover boy."

Blaine rolled his eyes annoyedly. "Would you stop?"

"Hey, I'm just teasing." Puck held his hands up, wrapping an arm around a gothic chick beside him and sticking his own cigarette into her mouth. "By the way, be good to Kurt, he's a sensitive guy believe it or not. He's had a tough year and I wouldn't want some asshole ruining a good time for him."

"Are you calling me an asshole, Noah Puckerman?"

"Uh, did I stutter?" Blaine tossed an apple at Puck's head which he caught with a loud laugh."

"Where are you going?" Quinn asks after the two get their food.

"To the other skanks?" Kurt says slowly, unsure of what his friend was doing.

"No your not." She hooks her arm with his as they carry their trays to the other side of the cafeteria. When Quinn catches Puck's eye, she nods in his direction.

Kurt seeing this action, groaned. "Why are we going over here?" He sees that Blaine was sitting with Puck with some Cheerio pressed up against him. "I thought you didn't like, Anderson?"

"I don't." She sighed. "But I made a promise to play nice."

"Promises, promises, promises." Kurt mutters, repeating himself from earlier making Quinn laugh. "Why are we even sitting with them?"

"Planning." She replies to which Kurt groans again. "Noah!" Quinn greets their friend with a smile, watching him cringe at the use of his first name. "Anderson." She greets too politely with a tight smile.

Blaine peers up at Quinn, a smile tugging at his lips as he sees the forced smile on her own. "Fabray." He greets back. "Sit with us, please, its such a pleasure to see you." God Bless you Satan.

Should've asked if I can say something mean to him. God damnit. She thinks as she sits on the other side of the girl next to Puck, Kurt taking the seat next to her. "We came over to plan for tonight." She says directly to Puck, ignoring Blaine." She said to play nice. But she didn't say that I have to act like he's here.

"More like she dragged me." Kurt adds to Puck.

Puck nods. "I got some guys that can hook me up with some cheap beers, and I got Blainey boo over here to bring weed."

The girl on Blaine's lap giggled, and he mumbled a curse under his breath in response to the nick name.

"Oh joy." She says sarcastically at the remark about Blaine. "But while you're getting the cheap shit, 'Tana's getting the good shit."

"And I got some Spliff." Kurt speaks up as he pick at his food. "We've also still got skins at home. So we're set with that."

"There's that too." Quinn nods in agreement.

Blaine licked another finger covered with icing off the cupcake and placed it in the Cheerio's mouth where she sucked on it sensually, just happening to be looking at Kurt with hazy eyes as she sucked off Blaine's finger suggestively. "You know," Blaine grabbed his water bottle, "I have bongs made for two people if you want me to bring those, it's quite the ice breaker."

"And how many of those do you have?" Kurt questions before popping a tot in his mouth. "'Cause I really don't wanna clean up after a lot of people tomorrow." He tilts his head to think. "Oh. Who's crashing on the floor and couch?"

"I know 'Tana is which means Brit probably will." Quinn tells him.

"Well I call the floor, I don't want anyone getting cuddly with me on that small ass couch." Puck adds, leaving Blaine to gaze at Kurt.

"And where will you be sleeping, Kurt? In your own bed? Because I call dibs on the left side if so." Blaine smirks, licking another stripe of icing off his finger. "I still have my offer up from before."

"It depends on how trashed I get, Anderson." He shrugs, popping another tot into his mouth. "And tell me, why would I let you in my bed in the first place?" Kurt smirks.

"Because I've got big strong arms that I know you'd just melt into." Blaine teases, shoving the Cheerio off his lap and grabbing his tray. "My offer still stands. I'm going to go have a smoke before I have to deal with my History teacher last period."

Kurt watches as Blaine leaves. Quinn clears her throat to get his attention. "What offer is he talking about?" When Kurt just gives her a shrug, she groans, knowing she's not going to get answer. "Do you know about this offer, Puckerman?" She glares at the other boy they were holding conversation with.

Puck shrugs. "All I know is both boys have been undressing each other with their eyes for the whole goddamn day, isn't that right, Kurtie?"

"You wanna say that again, Noah?" Kurt's gaze becomes cold.

"You aren't denying it." Quinn points out.

Noah shoots an annoyed look at Kurt. "Don't pretend you didn't hear me, I'm not going to this little bake at your house tonight while you and Blaine are playing cat and mouse. Besides, Quinn's right, you get protective when you're keeping something in."

Kurt gets up and throws out the rest of barely-touched food. "I'll see you guys later." He storms away from the two. He doesn't stop when he's out of the cafeteria. He walks out the back of the school and breathes in the cool, winter air. He groans when he leans against the wall next to the door.

"Well," Quinn says as Kurt left, "he's a little pissed. Are you actually not gonna come or were you just saying shit?" She asks Puck.

Puck snorted. "He's always pissed at something, he'll get over it. I'll come tonight, I'm just sick of those bedroom eyes they give each other, it's creeping me out." He glances to where Kurt had stormed out of the cafeteria and glances at Quinn. "What do you think?"

"I think," She says around a forkful of pie, "someone needs to suck someone off." After she swallows, she addresses the Cherrio. "Hey, Anna, what the hell is going between you and curls?"

Anna sighs and rests her head on her hand, leaning her elbow on the small round table. "Who knows," She twirls her finger around the plastic tray in front of her. "Sometimes he needs me, sometimes he doesn't. I'm pretty sure I'm sharing him with every other Cheerio on the team so it doesn't matter."

Quinn rolls her eyes. "Well thank you for that, Anna. That helped so much." She replies sarcastically.

Anna cocked her head. "I don't know what you mean."

"I mean," Quinn says slowly, "you gave us really useful information."

Anna blinked for a few moments before smiling. "Oh! I'm glad." She picks up her tray and smooths out her Cheerio skirt. "Speaking of the devil, I'm going to go find Blaine. Bye guys!" She blew a kiss before tossing out her tray and strutting out of the cafeteria.

"God, she's useless." Quinn breathes. "Kurt should probably be found. But I also need to give him space to breath right now." She sighs. "It was really tough on him this morning."

Puck nods. "I know." He sighs, sprawling back on his seat. "He needs to take a break from that hospital. It ruins his whole mood in two seconds. I know he loves his dad but, Q, he's got to find happiness sometime."

Quinn shakes her head. "I know he does. He also needs tonight. And for us to be there for him. Considering the fact that the others didn't try that hard to stay with him throughout this all." She practically growls, but takes a deep breath to calm herself. "I just wish that Mercedes would've been the one that at least stayed with him from that club. But not even her. But hopefully he'll be too hungover to go tomorrow."

"Hopefully." Puck mumbles, patting Quinn's shoulder. "Take care of the boy while I'm out, you know he gets clingy when he's sober. I'll be over around five with Anderson, party doesn't start till I arrive anyway." He gives her a slight smile and heads out with a couple girls following after him like puppy dogs.

Quinn takes a moment before getting up and heads in the direction that Kurt left earlier. When she looks behind the school, he's not there. She sighs, figuring that he's back inside and she'll find him soon.

Taking a walk around the school to hopefully get his mind off of earlier that morning, Kurt spots Blaine. "Can I bum one?" He asks.

Blaine turns his head to see Kurt approaching him, he digs into his pocket to find a pack of cheap cigarettes and hands Kurt one without a word, giving him a pocket lighter as well. He takes a drag from his cigarette and leans his head back against the brick wall of the school. "I know you're friends with her and all that, but I really hate Quinn's guts."

"She feels the same about you." He mutters around the cigarette as he lights it. He takes a drag and bounces on the balls of his feet to warm up a bit. "Believe me."

Blaine glances over to see Kurt shivering, and rolls his eyes before slipping off his leather jacket. "Take it." He muffles around his cigarette. "I'm a big boy, I can tough it out, and you're way too pale for this weather."

"I'm fine." Kurt glares at Blaine. "I've just haven't been outside much today. My body is getting used to it." He shivers, bullshitting even himself. I should really continue that walk.

"My ass you're getting used to it." Blaine spins Kurt around and forces his arms through the sleeves, taking the joint out of his mouth as he admires the jacket on Kurt. "Looks better on you anyways." He adds, blowing out a puff of smoke. "I can tell you're unhappy in my presence so I'm going to leave. See you around, Hummel." He walks around the corner of the school yard, disappearing.

Kurt shakes his head. He stomps out the last bit of his cigarette before heading inside. I just hope Quinn doesn't question the jacket if she sees me. That'll end up badly.