Kurt screwed up his courage and knocked briskly on the frame of the open door before putting his head through the doorway, “Dr. Sylvester, you wanted to see me?”

“Ah, yes, Mr. Hummel,” the department head gestured to a chair. “Have a seat.”

“Thank you.” Kurt sat, and he prayed that neither his face nor his voice revealed how much he was shaking in fear. Ever since he had received the email that summoned him to the heads office he imagined all sorts of horrible scenarios: his funding had been pulled, his work as a teaching assistant was unsatisfactory, his thesis was horrible and he should drop out of school now.

“I'm not sure how to start,” Dr. Sylvester began, and Kurt—who until now thought his fear has reached its apex—discovered that there was an even a higher level to which it could ascend. He felt cold sweat trickle down his back.

“As you know, Dr. Bieste goes skiing every chance she gets, and, well, it appears that this weekend she had a bit of an accident in Utah. She's going to be fine, but she'll need some extensive surgery and rehab to rebuild her knee, and I think theyve had to order some extra large parts. This means I'm trying to find replacements for her classes. I want you to teach Gender and Sexuality this Spring.

“I know this only gives you four weeks to prep, and I know you're still a masters student, but you only have one semester left before you'd be in the classroom anyway, and Dr. Schuester tells me that your thesis is well in hand. It will be a lot of work, but I know you can do it. What do you say?”

All of Kurt's fear was now drowned in a white buzzing noise. Relief washed through him. He wasn't in trouble; he was being offered a dream—his own classroom. After three semesters of being some professor's lackey, he was going to get to teach his own class! He mentally high-fived himself, then did some cartwheels in his head, punctuated with some completely interior fist pumps. Then he realized that Dr. Sylvester was waiting for an answer.

“Oh. Yes, thank you. I would be delighted. I'll get on it right away. I won't let you down.” Kurt's words fell one on top of the other.

“Mr. Hummel, teaching your first class is exciting, and I'm glad you're enthusiastic. But keep in mind that it can be scary, too. This is an upper division class, and those students aren't much younger than you, so make sure you convey an air of authority right from the start. And, for God's sake, don't sleep with any of your pupils. We don't need another incident like with young Mr. Puckerman.”

“No, of course not. I'll keep that in mind.”

“Well, good. Off you go, then.”

Kurt practically curtsied his way out of the office. “Thank you. Thank you.”

Dr. Sylvester waived him away with a dismissive hand.

Kurt left the building, slowly and with dignity.  But when he got outside, he let out a loud whoop and erupted into a very spastic, hip gyrating dance.