The next day, aside from their shared English class, Blaine didn't see Kurt until they were both at their lockers at the very end of the day. Blaine was still slow finding his way around the school and Rachel had cornered him before lunch, and then dragged him into the auditorium for an impromptu duet where, after Blaine complied, she assured him that he could definitely keep up with her vocally and was a very viable option for male lead. When Blaine had walked into his last class of the day just a heartbeat before the bell rang, Blaine noticed Kurt again in the back of the classroom, his eyes focused on his book rather than the people around him and Mr. Thompson came charging in behind Blaine and calling for the attention of the entire class.

Now that the school day was over, Blaine had thirty minutes before his glee audition. It wasn't the performance itself that Blaine was nervous about; he was a performer, it's what he did. But there were going to be thirteen people sitting in that room, watching him, all of them judging him. It would be all of them which he would have to impress if he was going to get along with what he hoped would be his teammates. So Blaine took his time at his locker, running through his audition number once more in his head as Kurt arrived, sans the entourage of tormentors, and began playing with the dial of his locker. Kurt had made it clear the day before that he and Blaine were not, and never would be, friends. And because of that, Blaine remained silent, distracting himself with checking and double checking that he had all the books he needed for the homework he'd been assigned.

Blaine's attention was drawn to Kurt when he let a hiss escaped his lips as his left hand moved to catch a falling book from the top shelf of his locker. Blaine looked in Kurt's direction just as the boy placed the book back on the shelf and turned his palm up to examine it. Blaine immediately noticed the glaring red hue Kurt's skin had adopted overnight. There were a few blisters forming beneath his middle and ring finger on his palm.

"You burned your hand." Blaine said part question part statement before he even knew he was speaking.

Kurt stayed silent but quickly put his hand by his side.

Blaine kept quiet again, putting the rest of the book he need into his bag. Kurt continued to organize himself, another hiss emitting from his lips each time he used his left hand. When Blaine heard the third hissing sound, he gave up on his efforts not to bother Kurt.

"Mix some honey and flour and put it on your hand. Should take the sting out pretty quickly," Blaine said, "Oh, and don't pop the blisters unless you have Neosporin or something around. And you should probably wrap that up."

Kurt's head shot up at Blaine's directions, his eyes locked with Blaine's. Kurt hadn't expected any kind of help. Especially after he'd been pretty rude to Blaine about them not being friends. Of course, they weren't friends. They'd just met each other and Kurt was convinced that friends meant ties to Lima. And he wasn't looking for any of those.

"I had a pretty bad sunburn one summer when I was little," Blaine said noticing Kurt's uneasy expression, "Kept me inside for two days until my mom looked on the internet and found the honey and flour remedy. I could go back outside the next day."

"Thanks," Kurt said.

"Sure thing," Blaine said.

Blaine had expected Kurt to shrug him off again with a lecture about how they weren't friend. When he didn't, a silence fell between the two boys until Blaine heard someone call his name from down the hall. Both Kurt and Blaine looked to see Rachel standing at the end of the hallway, her hands on her hips.

"Blaine, could I get a minute with you before Glee rehearsal please?" Rachel said as she made her way closer, her eyes focused on Blaine. But once she stood directly in front of Blaine her eyes glanced quickly towards Kurt, a glimpse of emotion danced across them. Blaine's gaze followed Rachel's sight back towards Kurt who seemed to have turned his attention to his locker again before turning back towards the brunette who was once again completely focused on Blaine, "I'd like to know what song you're auditioning with this afternoon."

"Uh—sure," Blaine said turning back to say goodbye to Kurt, but he was gone. Blaine turned and watched as he walked down the hallway towards the entrance.

"I see you made a friend," Rachel said as Blaine turned his attention back to her.

"I wouldn't go that far," Blaine said as the two began walking towards the choir room. It was the truth.

"Oh," Rachel said her eyes downcast but Blaine could read the expression on her face.

"Do you know him?"

"Not anymore."

"What do you mean?"

Rachel stopped and looked at Blaine, "Kurt and I, well, we used to be best friends."

"Used to be."

"Yes."

"What happened?"

"I'd like to know myself," Rachel said, "One day we're planning makeovers and the next he won't answer my calls or texts and every time I tried to talk to him he'd walk away from me."

Blaine remained quiet.

"But that was a year ago, and if he doesn't want to be friends with anyone it's not my business anymore," Rachel continued, "Now. Let's focus on more important topics. Like what song you are about to dazzle the pants off New Directions with."

Blaine was suddenly curious to hear more about the relationship between Rachel and Kurt but refrained from asking too many questions. None of that was his business, "Always Be My Baby. Originally by Mariah Carey, but I think David Cooks rendition was pretty amazing."

Blaine watched as Rachel's eyes became wide with anticipation as she grabbed onto his arm and guided him to the choir room.

Kurt was sitting, uninterested, as his history teachers droned on in front of the room about the Civil War. He really couldn't care about the Union and the Confederacy. Instead his mind drifted to New York. The place he wished so hard to be his future home. Since his dad had passed away, New York was all that he wanted; to escape Lima. There were 268 days until the school year was over. He'd turn eighteen a week later and then he was gone. He'd gotten a job that past summer doing the most disgusting work in the kitchen of a restaurant, and he was able to save enough money for a one way ticket to New York City. He was counting on the full ride to Parsons to get him at least four years before he had to figure out what came next. All he knew was that returning to Lima was not an option.

"Mr. Hummel," Mr. Hodgson's said pulling Kurt abruptly from his thoughts.

Kurt turned and looked sheepishly at his teacher who was standing in front of him, holding out a slip of paper. Great, detention Kurt thought taking the slip from Mr. Hodgson's hand. He looked it over quickly and noticed that it wasn't a detention slip. Instead, his presence was being requested in Miss Pillsbury, the guidance counselor's, office immediately.

Kurt looked up at his teacher quizzically but was only offered a slight shrug of Mr. Hodgson's shoulders.

Kurt got up from his seat and grabbed his bag before heading out of the classroom and down the empty halls towards Miss Pillsbury's office. He wasn't sure what he could have possibly done. He never had asked for help for college applications and his grades were just fine.

When he approached the Plexiglas walls of Miss Pillsbury's office, he saw the red haired woman sitting at her desk, looking nervous as she wrung her hands meticulously over and over. At least this got him out of a boring lecture.

"Miss Pillsbury," Kurt said knocking on the doorframe, "You wanted to see me."

"Oh, Kurt! Yes." Miss Pillsbury exclaimed, "Please, sit down."

Kurt shrugged his bag off his shoulder and sat down in one of the two seats in front of Emma's desk. She shot up out of her seat a moment later and quickly moved over the door, closing it before reclaiming her seat behind her well organized desk.

"So, Kurt," Emma said her hands clasped together sitting in front of her on the desk, "How are things with you?"

Kurt's eyes narrowed in confusion, "Good."

"Are you sure? There's nothing bothering you that you might want to…express in a private confidential manner?"

"Did I do something wrong?"

"What? No," Miss Pillsbury said before focusing, "Kurt. A few of the faculty members at McKinley have expressed their concern that you might be at risk."

Kurt raised his brows towards Miss Pillsbury, "For what?"

"They've noticed lately that you've been rather separated from your classmates."

"You think I'm anti-social?"

"Well, yes," Emma said bluntly, "One of the teachers noticed the rather severe burn on your hand and wondered if maybe it was—"

"Self-inflicted?"

"Yes."

"It's nice to know that the faculty is worried that I'm going off them, or myself, but I promise you Miss Pillsbury," Kurt said holding up his wrapped hand, "this was nothing more than a baking accident."

"Kurt, you know that anything you say to me will be kept confidential. You can talk to me about anything if you'd like."

"Thank you for your concern Miss Pillsbury," Kurt said. It had only taken them a year to mention anything, "But I'm fine."

Kurt stood up and Miss Pillsbury looked up at him with her wide hazel eyes full of something he hadn't seen in any of the faculty ever; genuine concern. Kurt pushed away the clenching at his heart with a deep breath before heading towards the door.

"Kurt," Miss Pillsbury called just after Kurt had opened the door, "if you change your mind, or if something changes. My door is always open."

Kurt nodded silently and walked into the crowded hallway now crowded with students.

Kurt hurried home after school. His application for the Parsons scholarship would be going into the mail before school the next morning and he needed to proofread his essay one more time, and he had to go over his designs and make sure they were completely flawless. Luckily, his uncle left the house in decent condition so there were few chores that needed to be completed before Kurt could disappear. He managed to have all of them done with a half hour before Uncle Tim was supposed to be home.

He was almost done going through his essay one final time, the soundtrack to Phantom of the Opera playing softly from his laptop speakers, the three designs that just looking at, made him beam with pride, were sitting on his desk, before his bedroom door burst open a with a thunderous clash as the doorknob hit the wall making a slight impression in the plaster.

Kurt immediately went through the chores he'd done when he'd gotten home. What could he have missed? What would have made Uncle Tim angry enough to come bursting in his room. He couldn't think of a single thing.

"What's wrong?" Kurt asked trying to remain calm though Uncle Tim standing there, visibly angry cause his heart to beat wildly in his chest.

"What's wrong?" Uncle Tim seethed, "What's wrong is that I got a phone call from an Emma Pillsbury today at work. She wanted to talk to my about your behavior at school. She said she was worried that there were maybe some problems at home that could be causing your behavior. Did you say something to someone Kurt?"

"W-what n-no. Of c-course not," Kurt said mentally cursing Miss Pillsbury for calling Uncle Tim.

"She mentioned the burn on your hand."

"She thinks I did it to myself," Kurt said quickly, "She thinks I'm hurting myself."

"You did hurt yourself," Uncle Tim said taking two steps into the room, "If you weren't so clumsy on your feet you wouldn't have nearly fallen over when I accidently brushed into you."

And I accidently threw myself into the bookshelf last month or the China cabinet six months ago. Kurt thought.

"Kurt," Uncle Tim said as he continued to move towards Kurt, "If your school suspects otherwise, I could lose everything. I've already uprooted my life for you when your father died, I will not lose my job or my house or my life because you can't manage to handle yourself properly in a social situation."

Uncle Tim stood in front of Kurt as the boy braced himself for what could possibly happen. But Kurt's heart stopped when Uncle Tim picked up one of Kurt's designs with his thumb and index finger as if he was diseased. Kurt wanted to jump up and take his design back. Those were like gold, precious and essential for getting into Parsons. But he remained seated, but his eyes were wide and he could tell immediately that Uncle Tim knew that the design between his fingers was precious to Kurt, that it meant something.

Uncle Tim grabbed the design with his other hand and with a fluid motion, tore it down the middle. Kurt's jaw dropped but he remained still as Uncle Tim continued to rip the paper into pieces before throwing them at Kurt and turning towards the door.

"Stop doodling and get a life," Uncle Tim said slamming the door closed behind him.

The moment the door was shut Kurt shot up on of his desk chair; the pieces of his design that had fallen on to him now fell to the floor. Kurt turned the lock on his door, angry with himself that he hadn't thought of that sooner. He turned and leaned back against the door, his heart hammering in his chest, the tears he'd been holding back slipped down his cheeks as he looked at the pieces of his design, his favorite design, scattered across the carpet of his bedroom. Three weeks it had taken him to perfect that design, and it had only taken fifteen seconds to destroy it.

He glanced over at the clock, it was just after six. He needed to leave for school by eight if he wanted to get to the post office before getting to school. That gave him fourteen hours. Wiping the tears from his eyes, Kurt took a deep breath before walking back to his desk. He picked up the pieces that Uncle Tim had thrown and placed them back together on the top of the desk. Grabbing a roll of scotch tape from the top draw, Kurt began to reassemble the pieces like a puzzle, mending each detached piece with a piece of tape until it was a ragged version of what was once perfect.

Kurt removed his laptop from the desk, then pulled out a blank sheet of paper and set it next to the destroyed version. Pulling a pencil from the cup on his desk, Kurt began recreating the design the best he could. He would have that design ready to go before he left for school. He had fourteen hours and he'd stay up all night if he had to.

Kurt spent no more than thirty minutes in his bed; but he didn't do much more than toss and turn on top of his comforter. He was afraid that if he fell asleep, he would oversleep and after all the work he'd done recreating his design, there was no way he was going to miss the only opportunity he had to get his application in the mail.

He had just enough time to shower and get to the post office before he dragged himself into the crowded halls of McKinley. He hadn't done any of the work he needed to do and his eye lids were so heavy, he was sure to fall asleep in at least one class. It was officially the worst first week of school ever.

He approached the locker and it barely even registered to him that Blaine was at his. Kurt force himself to get it locker open and when he took a step backward, the ground beneath him was suddenly unstable.

"Whoa," Blaine said as Kurt swayed.

He would have fallen had Blaine not grabbed him, hands on his waist. Kurt seemed hypersensitive to the warmth that emitted from Blaine's touch. It actually felt good. Kurt was suddenly aware that he was in fact in school at his locker and the new kid was holding him around the waist. He stood up straight and took a step back out of Blaine's hold.

"Uh," Kurt said, "Thanks."

"You look like you could use some sleep," Blaine said.

Kurt interpreted that to mean that he looked like shit and cursed his concealer for not doing a better job at hiding the massive luggage he was carrying underneath his eyes.

"I'll be fine," Kurt said wondering how bad the school coffee tasted.

"It's a little early in the school year to be pulling all-nighters isn't it?"

"I was finishing a project," Kurt said too tired to try to fight Blaine's friendliness off.

"Must have been pretty important," Blaine said returning to the exchange of books from his bag to his locker.

"You have no idea," Kurt said.

"I'll see you in English," Blaine said adjusting the shoulder strap on his bag before he clapped his hand down on Kurt's shoulder and walked away leaving Kurt with a feeling that wrapped itself tightly around Kurt's heart. It was something he'd felt before, mostly in the last twelve months, but never put a name on it. In his vulnerable state Kurt could name the feeling, they called it loneliness.

Blaine never asked Rachel any more questions about her relationship with Kurt and he knew better than to bring it up with the other boy. Blaine had made it through the first week at a new school. He'd made new friends in New Directions, even became the male lead. And the most surprising thing to happen that week was the growing curiosity he'd developed about the boy whose locker was next to his.

That same boy came crashing into bank of lockers before English on Friday afternoon. Blaine watched as Kurt's head crashed into the ventilation slots carved into the metal doors. Blaine turned around to see the two boys from earlier in the week, whose name's he had learned were Azimio and Karofsky. When he turned back to Kurt there was a tiny stream of blood flowing down the right side of Kurt's face.

"You're bleeding," Blaine said shocked, gesturing towards the right side of his own face

Kurt put his hand up to his forehead and winced as he hand came away red. Sighing in frustration, Kurt turned immediately on his heels and headed down the hallway. Blaine shut the door of his locker and moved to follow Kurt, right into the boy's bathroom.

"Are you alright?" Blaine asked as he walked into the bathroom after Kurt who had put himself in front of the mirror examining the tiny cut on his temple.

"Go away Blaine."

"Do you need me to get the nurse?"

"Go away Blaine!" Kurt shouted not turning away from the mirror as he wet a brown paper towel and held it above his eye.

"Go away Blaine!" Kurt repeated, his voice rising in volume. He didn't turn away from the mirror as he wet a brown paper towel and held it above his eye.

"You can't get mad at me for making sure you're all right."

"I can handle it," Kurt said monotone

"I never said you couldn't. But this is kind of a big deal—everything that's happening to you, the bullying. I get to make sure you're all right."

"Why do you even care? You don't even know me," Kurt said a tiny laugh escaping his lips, "But I'm sure now that you've joined New Directions Rachel has told you everything. Whatever you think you know, you don't."

"I don't think I know anything," Blaine said.

"Then why?"

"Because I've been there. I get it. I've lived it," Blaine said, "You're not the only kid in this school that's been thrown around for being gay."

"Blaine, we're not— "

"Friends. I heard you. But I'd like us to be something. We don't have to be friends, we can be," Blaine paused for a moment thinking of the best way to define their relationship going forward, "locker buddies. We can only talk while we're at our lockers. We don't even really need to talk. But it's better than wasting all that energy pretending that I don't exist don'tcha think?"

"Locker buddies?" Kurt questioned, "We're not six."

"Just go with it Kurt. So are you in?"

"No," Kurt said picking up his bag from the floor and storming out of the bathroom.