Kurt plopped into his chair the next day, exhausted after his run to the library. Some football players had decided to follow him after school again, calling him a myriad of derogatory name for gays from their limited vocabulary. Kurt breathed in and out slowly, crossing his arms over his head to allow his lungs to expand more. He felt tears stinging from his eyes, threatening to stream down his cheeks from a mixture of sadness, anger, and being out of shape.

Yes, Kurt was gay. He was, in fact, the only gay kid at McKinley. Supposedly gay people were accepted more in modern society, but Kurt's experience proved otherwise. He was a pariah in the eyes of his peers, an outsider who infringed on their seemingly perfect view of a utopia.

He didn't want to go to his guidance counselor or his school psychologist about it; they'd just hand him a pamphlet and some tasteless, sugar-free candy, and tell him that he needed to accept the fact that he was "different", that some people wouldn't be so "open" to him, that he just needed to give it "time", and so on. It was bull crap, and would not help Kurt at all. He knew that he was gay for a long time, but decided to come out a while before school started. But why should be be considered "different"? He was a human being. He had two eyes, a nose, a mouth, four limbs, and a functioning brain, things some humans didn't even have, yet he was considered "different", alien, just because of his sexual preference. Regardless of orientation or ethnicity, in Kurt's opinion, all humans should be given the same respect. Of course, however, the world simply could not operate that way.

As Kurt sank deeper into the chair, his breathing and heart rate reverting back to normal, he felt his back hit something hard. He turned around to investigate, his eyes growing wide at the discovery.

The blue Book!

At first, Kurt was elated:the book was still there! Then he became irate: the book wasstillthere.BDA should be more careful with his belongings, Kurt thought. Nevertheless, Kurt snatched the Book and opened it.

There was a new entry waiting for him, however Kurt only stared at the reply waiting for him under his own note from the day before. Kurt felt his heart begin to race again, like how it pounded against his rib cage as he tried to elude the cruel football players.

KH-
First order of business: wow, I didn't know that anyone else went into this room, especially to read! This is a pleasant surprise.

Next, regarding your note: you obviously read my other summaries, so you knew that they are not spoiler-free. Either way, I'm glad that I spared you from the couple hundred pages of boredom that isThe Scarlet Letter. The idea of it is great, but there is so much description that the plot can disappear...I still think that romanticism was a great era for literature, despite this fault.

Furthermore, haven't you learned that you shouldn't look at anything if you can't see where it keeps its brain? Haha, I thought you might like that reference-but seriously, how did you come across my diary? No, journal!

In all seriousness, while I'd love to do this pen-pal sort of thing, this project is very important to me, so I'd rather that we not correspond anymore (only after you answer my previous question, and this one: who are you?)
-BDA
PS. You're too kind! On an unrelated note, never start a sentence with "and", it's bad writing etiquette!

I don't have any Horcruxes either, don't worry. I do treat some of my things, for example this journal, like one!

Kurt put the book down, feeling quite numb. BDA didn't want to talk to him. He was so funny, so intelligent, so insightful, but he didn't care to communicate with Kurt. BDA seemed to be the glimmer of light shining through the darkness of Kurt's light, the sun of hope for a friend who wouldn't judge him, who would just write to him-about books!-but like everyone else in Kurt's life, he didn't want him.

Stupid, stupid, stupid-why do I get myself into these kind of situations? Kurt asked himself, wringing his fingers. He wished that he'd never written anything, that he could have just left selfish BDA and his stupid-dumb-little project alone.

However, Kurt had gotten himself into the mess, so he was determined to clean it up: his way.

Kurt scanned the next page with the latest entry and groaned.Twilight, really? In Kurt's opinion, BDA could do much better. For some reason, though, he hasn't written a review or personal note. Kurt wondered why, but quickly dismissed it; BDA had given him the perfect opportunity for sabotage. He took out a pen from his backpack and began to write underneath the summary:

Review:Twilight, in all honesty, is a piece of utter crap written by a woman who tries to live her dream (literally) through creating the ultimate Mary Sue of all Mary Sues, one Mary Sue to rule them all. Maybe the term "Mary Sue" will be changed to "Bella", it's so bad. And sparkling vampires? That definitely out-gayed me! Typical storyline, there was barely any action, don't even bother with the next three. They're pretty predictable.

PN: I'm sorry, but if you want me to answer those questions, you're going to have to accept the fact that I will not give up with this book. It's obvious that this room is the equivalent of the cave for Voldemort's locket, so no matter how long it takes, from 10 minutes to 10 hours (well, maybe not that long, because I have school-you get the idea), I will look. If this project is that important, you would know that you should have an outside view for the books.
-KH
PS. That's actually a bunch of crap; it's more that I'm really stubborn and want my opinion to be heard. And I will start my sentences however I want!

Kurt slammed the book onto the table, releasing the rest of his frustration. He wasn't completely sure why this little event infuriated him so much. As his anger began to simmer down, Kurt realized that he didn't feel like reading anymore. With a little bit of guilt churning in his stomach, Kurt picked up his backpack and promptly exited the room, leaving the Book on the table.

Once he stepped outside of the library, Kurt realized that his father wouldn't be able to pick him up for another two hours. He sighed and hitched his backpack into a more comfortable position, deciding to begin his journey home by foot.

Only 3 and a half miles to go, Kurt thought, gritting his teeth.

The weekend had finally come, but unfortunately Kurt had been bombarded with a huge load of homework. He felt his stomach jump when his English teacher assigned for them to read and analyze a bunch of romanticism poems. Other than that, he had a Chem lab report, AP European History essay, and a downright unfair amount of problems about imaginary numbers to do for Algebra.

Kurt figured that he could fit in one last trip to the library that week, considering that the rest of his weekend would consist of a little bit of sleep, food, and homework.

He trudged through the brisk afternoon, the cool wind silently stinging his face. Everyone was at school, watching the boys' soccer game; he heard it was the state semi finals or something, but he didn't really care. Kurt was sure that no one else did either, just the kids playing the game, and maybe their friends. However, no one cared about the actual game. The friends and girlfriends cared about the players and their well-being. His best friend scored the winning goal, her boyfriend got sent to the hospital with a slight concussion. Everyone else only cared about being with their friends in the stand, drinking the booze hidden in their water bottles and cheering every so often when a goal was scored, and booing the other team just because their school wasn't as great as McKinley.

Kurt sighed as he reached an intersection, looking up at the trees filled with brown, orange, yellow and red foliage. It was a beautiful display that surrounded the town every autumn, yet Kurt never heard anyone point it out.

Honestly, nobody really cared.

Kurt made it to the library, another harsh burst of wind urging him into the warm building. He hurried into the room, his room, avoiding eye contact with everyone within the library-he never spoke to anyone there.

Upon walking into the room, Kurt hesitated. Where was the book? There were only two ways to find out: Kurt walked past the few rows of bookshelves to his corner.

There it was, waiting for him on the table.

Butterflies fluttered up a storm in his gut, soaring up into his throat. After contemplating whether or not to actually read the Book, Kurt tentatively opened it to the most recent entry.

Much to his surprise, the next entry was notNew Moon, the next book in theTwilightsaga. It was one of Kurt's favorite books.

Entry 10:The Perks of Being a Wallflowerby Stephen Chbosky

He skimmed over the summary since he basically knew the story by heart. The population of butterflies still exponentially increased as he made it to the review and personal note.

Review: Everyone in high school should read this book. The letter format is perfect, the characters are lovable, relatable, and real. It's a very interesting read, as you look into the inner workings of Charlie's mind and his outlook on life. Still, you laugh, you cry, you smile at all of Charlie's experiences in this book. There are so many questions to ask about this book, but still, it's an emotional journey that all need to take.

PN: As KH pointed out, Stephenie Myer isn't the best at creating unique, likable characters (but sorry, I like the story), and since I couldn't stop laughing at his response, I decided to not go ahead with the rest of the saga. It wouldn't provide much substance for this project, and I figured one would suffice.

To KH-I guess I was wrong: after thinking for a while, I decided that you can help me.

You obviously love books and reading, and I trust you to have something valuable to say about everything. I see you as the wallflower type, actually: you see, and you understand. However, you're more like the vibrant, exotic type, because you want to be heard. Well, I'm listening-I want you to add to my reviews, whether you oppose or not. It'll help a lot. All that I need you to know is this project is becoming of even greater importance. This leads me to yet another question: do you want credit for it? We can talk more about that.

I'd also like to write notes back and forth to each other, like what we've been doing. I have a feeling you'd do it anyway, but I need to get to know my associate!

So far, from what I can gather, you're 1) not the romantic type, 2) gay, and 3) a total nerd. I am 2 of those 3 things, can you guess?
-BDA
PS. I have a book suggestion. Third bookshelf from the corner, towards the left, author Charles Danforth. I think this will be quite useful for you.

Kurt immediately left the table, searching for Danforth, Charles. It took him a few minutes, but there it was:The Ultimate Guide To Writing Properly.

Kurt couldn't help but smile at the return of stubbornness from his new friend.

BDA-
I'd be honored to participate in your project, although I would like to remain anonymous, no credit whatsoever. Because of my reputation of being a nerdy, gay male, I'm not exactly a well-liked person. Also, this was your idea!

And excuse me, I can be romantic!

Getting back to your other question, I'm going to guess you're not 1) because you like sappy crap like Twilight. So I guess you're the fluffy type to give flowers and quote Shakespeare's Sonnet 18 to your boyfriend or girlfriend (I don't even know your gender!).

I literally have nothing else to add toPerksbecause I love what you wrote, and my brain is shifting to romanticism poem mode, because I need to read a few. I'll be thinking of you; hopefully there won't be too much description!

I'll be back Monday because I have a ton of homework to do.
-KH
PS. Thank you for listening.