Chapter 6

November 26, 2012

During the drive home Kurt couldn't stop thinking about the boy from the bus stop. He couldn't have been much older than Kurt himself and it made the teenager want to cry. He could easily imagine himself, roaming the streets with a hope of somebody showing some kindness. No, he wouldn't let himself think of that.

The bus stopped at a stop that Kurt had indicated as the closest to his house earlier and the boy got out on an unfamiliar street. He looked at the map placed on the booth to locate himself and calculated that he still had more or less five minutes to walk. It's not that he didn't like to exercise, but he did wish he had a car to make his commute easier. At the thought, guilt washed over him; he had just seen a boy who had to walk around barefoot and here he was, complaining about walking for a few minutes in his warm designer boots.

On his way home Kurt kept replaying his encounter with the boy in his head. He went through several different dialogues, came up with better things he could have said. For starters, he could have introduced himself and asked the boy his name. He would have made the poor kid feel like a human being and he would know some other way to refer to him rather than just "the boy." He could also stop the slave from calling him 'sir' but instead he let him refer to him as an authority figure. The more Kurt thought about it, the worse it all seemed to have been. By the time he reached his new house, he had decided to apologise to the boy the next time he saw him.

Kurt entered the building, knowing that it would be empty, and took off his shoes and the coat. It still didn't feel like home, not that he expected it to happen so soon. Especially since there were so many unopened boxes lying all over the place. Boxes that needed to be taken care of and since he still had time before he had to start making dinner, the teenager went to his room to change into something more comfortable for work. He hoped that having something to do would take his mind off his encounter earlier.

Unfortunately, he made a mistake by opening his laptop because a new skype message instantly caught his attention and all his plans went out of the windows since his best friend was online and Kurt spent the afternoon chatting with him about the moving and how the things were back in Paris. It was quite saddening because Kurt realised that he had missed so much already in a couple of days and it would only get worse with time. He just hoped that they wouldn't lose the contact like it commonly happened among people. He dared to believe that their friendship was stronger than that.

Time passed quickly and Kurt didn't even notice when it was time to start cooking dinner and when it was time for his dad to come back. Only when he heard the door being unlocked, he realised that he hadn't done anything.

"Kurt? You home?" he heard his dad shout and hurried to go downstairs.

"Dad, hi," Kurt said running passed the man into the kitchen.

"What's on fire?" Burt asked with a chuckle. "Not the dinner, right? Right?"

Kurt wasn't in the mood to joke and went straight to the fridge to look for something fast to cook. "I'm sorry, dad, Gérard skyped me and we had so much to talk about and I totally ignored the clock," the teen explained himself grabbing a box of pasta from the cupboard. "Aha! Quick and easy. Go get ready and I will start on dinner."

Burt shook his head, watching his son walking around the kitchen frantically. "You worry too much, son," he said and went upstairs.

Pasta was already boiling in a big pot when his dad came back and poured a glass of water for himself.

"How was work?" Kurt asked and sat down on a chair from which he could still keep an eye on the pot.

"It was good, actually. Everything seems in order, paperwork was done well. And this guy agreed to help with the rented car tomorrow," Burt explained and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Great to hear that. How does it feel to be the big boss?"

"Weird, I'm not used to giving orders but I'll have to get used to it. How was school?"

Oh right, I went to school today.

"School was better than I expected," Kurt said truthfully after a moment. "I met these two girls – Mercedes and Rachel – and they invited me to have coffee with them on Friday," he added but didn't feel the need to tell his dad what was the reason behind the hanging out.

"That's great," Burt said enthusiastically. "I told you there was nothing to worry about."

"Yeah, you were right," Kurt said and went to check on the pasta. For some reason he didn't want to tell his dad about the boy he had met that day.

After dinner it was time for the men to finally go grocery shopping since they couldn't live on toast and pasta for too long. In the end they came back home with three big bags full of food and Kurt went to the kitchen to sort it out. When he was done he found his dad in front of the TV, watching football.

"I'll go do homework now," he told Burt. "If you need anything just yell."

"Okay but I don't think it will be necessary. I'll just finish the game and go to bed. I need to leave really early tomorrow," the man said from the armchair.

"How early are we talking about?" Kurt enquired.

"Let's just say, you will still be in bed," Burt said and something interesting must have happened in the game since he suddenly leaned closer to the TV.

"Night, dad," Kurt said with a smile.

"Night. Yes!"

Without another word the boy went upstairs and took out the books of the classes he needed to do homework for. He knew it wouldn't take long for him so there was no rush. However, he was already getting really sleepy so he decided not to waste any more time and went straight to the calculus problems. He was almost finished when his dad knocked on the door and opened it when Kurt told him to come in.

"Hey, open the curtains," the man said and Kurt stared at him for a moment before doing what he was told to. "Isn't it beautiful?"

It was, it really was beautiful. It was dark outside, just the moonlight and some lights in other houses let him see anything. What made it so special was a cloud of tiniest snowflakes slowly falling from the sky.

"It is," Kurt said in a small voice.

"Impressed, huh?" Burt misinterpreted his reaction. "Wear something warm tomorrow, it's gonna be cold."

With that the man left and Kurt just stared through the window. His dad was right, it would be really cold tomorrow, especially if it didn't stop snowing. For the first time in his life, Kurt hated snow.

Don't think. Focus on your homework. Yeah, homework...

He somehow managed to finish up with his calculus homework but every now and then he got distracted by the sight outside and the images of a lonely boy curled up somewhere in an alley.

It took his whole will power to get halfway through his history homework but at the fifth question he was supposed to answer, his eyes got too heavy.

I'll just close them for a few seconds.

Closing his eyes Kurt put his head on his hands and didn't even feel his elbows slipping over the surface of the table as his body lowered onto it.

It was dark and cold and Kurt could hardly see anything through the blizzard. He kept walking down the empty street, looking around but not sure what he was supposed to find. He felt tired and his feet moved slowly, as if his body was too heavy for them. He shivered yet again and sniffled just to find that he had a runny nose. He looked around his clothes to see if he had any tissues when a movement caught his eye. Someone was walking straight up to him.

"Hey," a soft masculine voice said as the figure came closer. "Your feet must be freezing."

Kurt looked down and saw his bare feet in the snow. He tried to wiggle his toes but they hardly moved.

"I saved you a cookie," the boy smiled at him and took out a small cookie from his pocket. "Maybe it will help."

Kurt extended his hand to take the cookie but once the boy put it into his hand, it turned into a rock.

"Try it, it's delicious," the boy smiled and Kurt bit it.

Kurt jerked awake and sat up straight, disorientated in his sleepy state. The teenager looked around to find himself safe and sound in his room. The light was still on and the papers were scattered around as if he had been moving in his sleep. The boy stood up and stretched his muscles that were already aching from his uncomfortable position. Looking at the clock he saw that it was almost three in the morning.

He was contemplating between finishing his homework and going to bed. One look through the window, however, helped him to make up his mind as the memory came crashing down on him. He had to find the curly-haired boy.