Wednesday, November 10th, 2:35pm, In my sweet, sweet, fresh-smelling car

Why do the halls of McKinley High smell like sweat and detergent? And al the mingling smells of BO and body spray make you feel like gagging.

I told Finn to tone down on the cologne. But noooo....he thinks Rachel likes it. Even though I know for a fact that she chokes on it too. I can't even imagine getting close enough to kiss him.

...Well, I used to.

Imagined us kissing, I mean. But after the stunt he pulled in our basement, calling just about everything in my room faggy...well, you understand why I moved on. Pretty quickly too. Without, what I call, a rebound crush.

Yes.

A rebound crush is somebody that you crush on when you are attempting to forget about your previous crush. The rebound crush generally has nothing in common and is only someone you admire from afar. Normally it only lasts a week or two at most but is far, far more effective than other methods of getting-over-ness. So that you don't have any remaining feelings for the ex-crush.

Yes. It's very effective.

But Blaine isn't a rebound crush.

No.

...is he?

No, he isn't.

But what if he is?

HE ISN'T.

But-

SHUT UP BRAIN.

Wednesday, 10th November, 2:57pm, Still in car that smells pine fresh

But what if he is?

OH GOD OH GOD.

No, Blaine isn't a rebound crush. He isn't.

He is a crush, with very tiny, tiny feelings involved. I only met him today, I can't be that desperate to fall in love with the first gay male person I meet, now can I?

But....

Maybe to be safe, I'll acknowledge the crush feelings but not let them spin too much out of control first.

Just to make sure.

And if they are still there by...next Wednesday, then we can be quite sure that blaine is a crush that we can take into consideration.

….not that I have feelings for Finn.

It's more of a precautionary step that must be taken.

Yes.

I'll just keep telling myself that.

It's time for glee now anyway.

Wednesday, 10th November, 3:00pm, The Choir Room.

There is no peace here.

Obviously I should be glared at by Karofsky, the heteroking himself. No, it doesn't matter that other people have to walk down these halls too.

(Note the sarcasm dripping from my words)

Meh.

Wednesday, 10th November, 3:15pm, The choir room.

Wow.

The girls pulled of their number with quite a lot of flair. It was very entertaining.

But halfway through the performance, Blaine sent me a text.

YES HE SENT ME A TEXT.

All it said was courage.

There's the lovely word right there. It's almost as if he knew what happened just now....

Gee, that's really odd.

Thursday, 11th November, 7:06am, Bedroom, in bed.

WAIT A SECOND.

What if Blaine and the Warblers decide that they should come to spy on the new Directions?

I must look my best.

Not that I need to impress him or anything....he has seen my cry, after all. Delicate crying, of course, I'm not quite ready to show him the snot fest, hysterical, bawling-out-of-eyes type sobbing that normally comes with The Notebook.

And Pride and Prejudice.

….

Oh my god, what am I saying?

Spying? On the New Directions?

Please. If they spied on The New Directions all they would find is a roomful of teenagers either a) cussing, b) screaming about how she should get the solo, c) making out, d) filing their nails or e) entertaining themselves by looking out the window in the choir room at the old people struggling with their grocery bags.

And besides, The Warblers are too gentlemanly for that. Blaine is too gentlemanly for that.

Unless....

That's what they want us to think!

Ho ho, I know their secret plan.

Inception and all that crap.

Now, what should I wear.....

Thursday, 11th November, 8:26am, hallway of McKinley.

The smell, I believe, is burning the hairs of my nostrils.

Ew.

Thank God it's Thursday.

So, what's up today, you might ask?

Lessons. In school.

Yes, I know you regret asking.

….I am pretending that a diary is real....

I am mentally unhinged from all the fear.

Thrursday, 11th November, 8:45am, French Classroom.

I...

NGAH.

Thursday, 11th November, 8:50am, French classroom.

I don't know what to say.

Karofsky, he...he's...

He kissed me.

And not a oh-we're-cool-and-straight-guys-kiss-on-the-lips-like-it's-normal.

No, like full-frontal, teeth tongue and spit kiss.

Erlack.

My hands are shaking. And I can still smell that disgusting place.

OHMYGOD HE KISSED ME.

HE KISSED ME ON THE MOUTH.

HE STOLE MY FIRST KISS.

I feel faint, I think I might pass out.

WHY?

Is he gay? That would explain A LOT of things to me.

My whole body feels numb, even my words are suffering because I can't hold the pen properly.

I was standing outside my locker, keeping a sharp lookout for any familiar looking warbler faces, all innocently. I was also looking for the photo of me and Cedes at the fairground last year.

I wonder where that has gone.

But out of no where, for clearly no reason.

Karofsky shoved me into a locker.

And let me tell you, dear diary, that locker was open.

The sharp edge dug into my lower back and I felt what might have been splitting flesh. I could have started bleeding.

In fact, I probably am bleeding.

Yeah, I haven't checked the cut yet. I got distracted by worse things ok?

Anyway, remembering Blaine's advice, I suddenly exploded.

That's right. Exploded.

Now normally, I never explode. But I have had it up to here with this bullshit and I was going to put a stop to it. So I did what I should have done years ago.

I went after him.

I chased him down that corridor and followed him into the boys' locker room.

The stench hit me like a lightning bolt.

I'm pretty sure the reeking smell of the locker room is embedded into my brain forever..

Oh God I can still smell it.

“What is your problem?” I shrieked at him.

All I saw, by now, was red.

“The girl's locker room is next door, homo.” he said tensely.

Oh very witty, hardy har har.

Not.

I honestly, do not remember what I screamed after that. All I knew was that I had to beat him down. And seeing as how he was twice the size of me and both height and weight, I couldn't exactly wrestle him to the ground. So, I fought with my bitter, stinging words.

His eyes clouded over with something I couldn't identify then. And flickered back to their cold hard specks a moment later.

But now I know what it was, confusion. He was confused about his feelings.

His feelings about...me.

I think I might start hyperventilating.

He kept saying “Don't push me Hummel.”

I should have listened.

I SHOULD HAVE LISTENED DAMNNIT.

Then he grabbed my face and kissed me.

He was going back for more, I could tell. But I pushed him a way.

And when realisation dawned on his features and with a moment of fear, he was out the door.

I really don't know how long I sat there.

But eventually I moved again, in a numb daze. To this classroom and here I am now.

Oh my god.

Thursday, 11th November, 1:45pm, Bathroom.

I had to wait till lunch to call Blaine.

I waited till lunch to call Blaine. Honestly.

Yes, I'm proud of me too for lasting that long.

But I couldn't get the story out for some reason.

I like, choked.

“Hello?”

“Blaine?”

“Oh hey Kurt. What's up? How're things at school?”

“I....”

“Kurt?”

“Can we meet for coffee?”

Yes, that is actually how it went.

I'm meeting him after school at the Lima Bean.

I have to wait another two hours.

Shoot me now.

Thursday, 11th November, 2:00pm, Maths.

Who the hell goes around kissing people they torment?

Who?

Why would you do that?

Time left till coffee with Blaine: 1 hour 45 minutes.

Thursday, 11th November, 2:05pm, Maths.

Oh sweet Jesus.

Laura is making out with Chris in front of me.

The heck.

It is normal for a girl to have such a flexible tongue.

Unless she belongs to the cirque du soleil.

She doesn't.

Yuck.

Time left till coffee with Blaine: 1 hour 40 minutes.

Thursday, 11th November, 2:30pm, Maths.

My, my.

Clearly the answer is 23x-4p-2, Miss.

Clearly.

This class is for idiots.

Time left till date: 1 hour 15 minutes.

Thursday,11th November, 2:55pm, Maths.

Let us go, let us go, let us go, let us go.

Dear GOD, woman, will you please just-

YES! THANK YOU.

Thursday, 11th November, 3:05pm, Glee

Nobody cares that I am clearly having a mental breakdown.

I not only just got kissed by my bully/molester, I am also possibly bleeding through a deep gash in my lower back from being shoved into a locker.

Surely, the stain is visible by now.

Though, I am wearing a couple of layers today....

But still, they should be able to sense that something is very, very wrong.

HMPH.

They're all too engrossed in their own lives that's why they don't see my pain.

Time till date: 40 minutes.

Thursday, 11th November, 3:35pm, Glee.

Glee has never been so damn boring.

Time left: 10 minutes.

Thursday, 11th November, 4:00pm, Lima Bean.

I bet he stood me up.

Thursday, 11th November, 4:01pm, Lima Bean.

Or he forgot.

Thursday, 11th November, 4:03pm, Lima Bean.

I bet he forgot, he's two minutes late.

Great, now everyone is gonna take one look at m,e and know that I have been stood up.

Now I'm just the sad, sad, gay boy who got stood up and is just sitting here awkwardly and doen't know what to do with himself because he's so aloneand lost without his date who-

Oh never mind, he's here now.