Kurt and Blaine had a Sunday morning tradition. After exchanging morning orgasms, they would curl up in bed with their coffee and each read something off the other’s Bucket List. It was a tradition slightly modified over the years, ever since Kurt had revealed his own list. There had been pauses and hiccups over the course of their relationship...from broken up, to friends, to fiances. Blaine had started his own when they got back together for the (he hoped) last time, and they both thought it would be nice if, every once in a while, they could help each other tick off the boxes.

“Okay, Blaine, your turn.”

“Um, okay, so this will sound sort of weird…”

“Why?” Kurt lowered his voice to a husky whisper. “Is it kinky?”

Blaine laughed. “No, but maybe I should skip this one and give you one that is.”

“Hmmm,” Kurt pondered. “No, it’s okay, go ahead, give it to me. I won’t laugh.”

“Well, alright. Um, number 38: Tailgate in the Grove.”

Kurt looked at Blaine in confusion. “You want to what in the where? I think this will need some explanation.”

“Okay, so at football games at Ole Miss...sorry, the University of Mississippi…”

“Wait, I’m gonna stop you right there.” Kurt sat up and leveled his gaze at his fiance. “You want to go to Mississippi? Like the most intolerant place on earth? What’s number 39, backpack through Russia?”

“Kurt, can you let me finish?” Kurt sighed and motioned for Blaine to go on. “As I was saying, at Ole Miss, which by the way is in a very progressive college town that just passed a non-discrimination resolution that includes LGBTQ people, Kurt,” he emphasized, “they have this really unique tailgating tradition. I think you’d really like it.”

Kurt raised a single eyebrow. "Really…”

“Look, I know what you're thinking, and it’s not football jerseys, beer and hot dogs in a parking lot,” Blaine said. “They have this big 10-acre park full of old trees called The Grove. And on game days, it’s like a big outdoor cocktail party. Everyone dresses up, there’s great food, great weather, people deck out their tents with chandeliers and candelabras. Come on, it’d be fun!”

Kurt looked at Blaine skeptically. “This is something you really want to do?”

Blaine gave him the puppiest of puppy eyes. “I really want to, yes. Someday.”

Kurt sighed. He never could resist that look. “Okay, let me do my research and we’ll see. Now, you said you had something else on that list…?”

***

Kurt did his research.

He wasn’t entirely happy with everything he found, like an incident involving members of the football team heckling a production of the Laramie Project the year before. But he also saw the string of non-discrimination resolutions in the state, not just in Oxford as Blaine had mentioned but all over. He liked the “If You’re Buying We’re Selling” campaign and made a note to get a sticker for Burt to put on the entrance to the tire shop. He also sent an email to the university’s LGBT group to see just how friendly the campus was. He was surprised to get a response the next day, inviting him and Blaine to their tailgating tent if they happened to make it down.

Most importantly he researched this whole tailgating phenomenon Blaine had raved about, and he was right…”Groving” was a far cry from the parking lot cookouts he had witnessed in Ohio. In the fashion images he searched he could spot Miu Miu, Tory Birch, Betsey Johnson, Diane Von Furstenberg, Lilly Pulitzer, Stella McCartney...he wondered why Vogue.com had never done a feature on this. The men weren’t too shabby either. Though probably not as adventurous as he was, the men seemed to make an effort, donning pressed khakis, Oxford button-downs, blazers, vests, and lots of bow-ties. No wonder Blaine wanted to do this so much, Kurt thought.

Kurt decided that if he was going to surprise Blaine, it should at least be a decent game. After looking at schedules and weather almanacs online he decided on Ole Miss vs. Alabama. It was a conference game and Alabama was historically one of the best teams in the country-- even Kurt knew that. And Mississippi in early October would have pleasant weather, important if they were going to be outside for most of the day. What he didn’t anticipate was just how big the whole football thing was in the South. The game was sold out, and with one look at StubHub Kurt decided that it might be easier to deal with a scalper than the ridiculous prices online. Ole Miss, as it turned out, was having one of its best starts in years, and the upcoming SEC matchup was already being touted as one for the ages. Plus, hotels in Oxford had already been booked solid on game weekends for at least a year. He tried expanding to the surrounding areas in his online search...15, 30, 50 miles, and nothing (at least nothing decent). Finally he managed to get a room at a fancy casino resort in Tunica, about 75 miles away. With flights to Memphis and a rental car secured, he could only hope tickets would somehow be waiting when he told Blaine what they would be doing in just a week.

And then College Gameday happened.

“Oh man, what I wouldn’t give to be there,” Blaine exclaimed from the couch that night after Sam had gone home from their “bro-day,” as the anchor on Sportscenter announced that yes, his favorite show would be broadcasting live from The Grove at Ole Miss for the first time in the show’s history. Kurt nearly burst with excitement himself; he knew Blaine would be happy just going but this would make it even more special. He couldn’t wait until Sunday Morning “Bucket List Time.” He had to spring it now.

“Well...as it so happens, I have a surprise for you. Wait right here.” He went to their room and his desk drawer, and came back with an envelope and handed it to Blaine.

“What’s this?” he said as he took out the contents. “Plane tickets to...Memphis? And a reservation at the Gold Strike Casino in...where is Tunica?” He pulled out a printed email and read it aloud.

“Dear Kurt. Thank you for contacting the UM Pride Network. We have been working hard to make Ole Miss a more open and friendly campus for the LGBT community, and with our partners statewide we know we can change hearts and minds everywhere. We appreciate your support and encouragement, and can assure you that Oxford and Ole Miss is a great place to visit and live in. We can also appreciate your fiance’s enthusiasm for college football; as we say in the South, ‘football is a religion and Saturday is the Holy Day!’ We would love to have you as our guests when you can make it down for a game. Our tailgate tent is open to all…”

Blaine drifted off as he read the rest of the letter to himself and then looked up at Kurt, who couldn’t contain his smile. “Kurt, are you serious?”

Kurt pressed his lips together and excitedly nodded. “Uh-huh!  We’re knocking The Grove off your bucket list! And now your Gameday show is going to be there too!”

Blaine’s eyes welled up. “Oh my God, Kurt, oh my God!” he said as he hugged Kurt tightly. “This is...just this is so amazing, thank you. Just, I swear you’re gonna love it.” He kissed Kurt deeply and warmly, then hugged him again. “God, it can’t possibly get any better.”

***

It got better.

Since both of them would be leaving to go to Mississippi on Friday, they had to get permission to miss class and Kurt had to get the weekend off at the diner, so he agreed to a double shift. He had his arms full of plates in the middle of the dinner rush when his phone buzzed repeatedly in his pocket. He ran to the kitchen to see what was going on; he hoped it wasn’t his dad. He saw a flurry of texts, all from Blaine:

7:21 p.m.: KURTSDFGHJKFGHJKHGFDH

7:23 p.m.: KATY PERRY

7:24 p.m.: KATYD GOIN TO BE THERE

7:24 p.m.: HOLY DUCK KURT IM GOING O DOE

7:25 p.m.: DIE

He dialed his phone; Blaine answered with “KATY PERRY’S GOING TO BE AT GAMEDAY! SHE’S THE GUEST PICKER, OH MY GOD SHE’S GOING TO BE THERE!”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “Blaine, Blaine! Breathe, honey.”

He heard Blaine pause and take a breath. “Kurt, you know I follow Katy Perry on Twitter, right? Well I was checking my feed, and she tweeted out ‘Hell Yeah, Damn Right, Hotty Toddy,’ which is weird because that’s Ole Miss’s cheer, right? And then I saw that she tweeted Kirk Herbstreit, who’s one of the Gameday hosts, and it turns out her PRISM Tour is in Memphis the next night so she’s going to be there in Oxford, and you know meeting her is on my bucket list...oh my God, Kurt. I...don’t think I can breathe?”

Kurt laughed because Blaine like this was just so darn cute. “Well you have to, okay? Now I have to go, Gunther’s giving me an evil stare, but I’ll see you tonight and we’ll pack then.”

“Okay, Kurt, I’m just...it’s the Grove, and Gameday, and now this? Just, babe...”

“I know,” Kurt preened. “I’m the best fiance ever.”

***

Kurt and Blaine’s flight had gotten in late enough on Friday evening that rather than try to check out Oxford’s college town night life, they drove straight down to Tunica. After a heavy dinner at the Chicago Steakhouse, they set their alarm for very early morning; they still had well over an hour drive to Oxford the next day, more when they factored in the game day traffic. Still, there was enough time to share a shower and exchange blowjobs; after they toweled off each other they promptly collapsed in bed, clean and sated, falling asleep the moment their heads hit the pillows.

The next morning was a flurry of activity; with College Gameday going on the air at 8:00 a.m. local time, they had to leave by 6:00. Kurt stepped out of the bathroom as Blaine was adjusting the red swordfish-print bowtie on his outfit, a simple blue-and-white plaid button-down threaded with a red accent, with fitted red pants. “Yeah, I see why you wanted to do this now,” Kurt said. “Any excuse for a bowtie, right?”

“Hey, who is the one who said, ‘every moment of your life is an opportunity for fashion?’ Oh yeah, I think that was you,” Blaine said, turning to kiss Kurt’s cheek. “I mean, I heard Mercedes say it first, but she told me she got it from you. You look good, by the way.” Kurt had gone a little more toned-down, shocking even himself; a grey chambray shirt with dark-wash jeans, layered with a herringbone vest and loose tie. He supposed that a little part of him was still aware that he was not in the LGBT-friendliest of states.

It was still dark when they left Tunica, but the sun was coming up by the time they reached the Oxford city limits, traffic already beginning to slow with the volume. They followed the rental car GPS directions to the local high school, where a shuttle would drive them to the campus. After parking, they found themselves standing next to a middle-aged couple, probably around Burt and Carole’s age. The man was wearing a navy blue polo with “Ole Miss” embroidered in red script; the woman they presumed was his wife was in a flowing top with billowy sleeves in a similar color and navy-and-white patterned palazzo pants, accented with a Michael Kors bag and gold Tory Burch sandals. Impressive fashion choices, he thought, and this was the older fan contingent.

“Hotty Toddy!”

Kurt looked around and realized they were talking to them. He remembered Blaine saying that Katy Perry had tweeted something similar; must be the local greeting. “Oh, um...Hotty Toddy?”

The man laughed. “Y’all ain’t from around here are ya?”

Kurt began to sweat; he’d seen movies, and scenes that started with that sentence usually did not turn out well. Before he could react however, Blaine spoke up: “No, sir. We’re actually visiting from New York, though we’re actually from Ohio. I’ve just heard so much about the Grove and the tradition, and ever since I’ve wanted to come to an Ole Miss game, so here we are!”

Kurt added, “It’s on his bucket list.”

“Well, shouldn’t it be on everybody’s?” the woman responded in a melodious drawl that sounded like honey. “Y’all have a tent?”

“Um, sort of? One of the…” he halted; after all there were progressives in Mississippi but they weren’t all progressive. “...uh, student organizations invited us. We’re tailgating with them.”

“Well, if y’all want variety, we have a tent in the Circle near Meek Hall. We’d be happy to have you!”

“Thank you so much!” Blaine, ever the polite one, cheerfully said. “We’ll keep that in mind!”

Kurt wondered how the rest of the day would go, with a start that positive.

***

The town was every bit as picturesque as advertised; Hollywood couldn’t have built a better set for a “quintessential southern college town” if they tried. They passed simple Craftsman-style homes paired with stately Victorians and columned front porches before reaching “The Square,” the apex of the town and nightlife. The town square was framed with two-story buildings, many with balconies, housing a variety of casual and semi-formal restaurants, bars, boutiques, sweet shops, with a smattering of banks and law firms. In the center was a white courthouse, complete with a clock tower and surrounded by old oak and magnolia trees.  The shuttle circled around the courthouse, then headed toward the campus. As they approached down University Avenue they could sense an electric charge in the air. Students and fans walked down the sidewalk with coolers, shopping bags and folding chairs in tow, pom-pom shakers hanging out of their back pockets or spilling out of their purses.

The shuttle stopped, and Kurt and Blaine stepped off the bus into a sea of red, blue, and white tents, with the lush greenery of tall oaks, pecans, sugar maples and magnolias stretching out from among them toward the sky. It was still too early in the season for the leaves to turn into their brilliant golds, reds, and oranges, but the potential was there. Kurt immediately recognized that Blaine had certainly been right about one thing...there was hardly a jersey to be seen. Most of the older men were in polos and khakis, while many of the college-age boys were in jackets and ties. But the women...Kurt was 100 percent gay but even he could appreciate the beauty before him. Every one of them was dressed to the nines in designer labels...and some of it was couture he had seen at the spring shows. They were all tanned, hair shining, lips glistening, and nails polished. And they all just seemed to walk with a certain poise. He also had a feeling that wouldn't last long, as he watched them sipping from red plastic cups spiked from a flask or bottle from their dates. It reminded him of that “Red Solo Cup” song Sam had sung when he returned to glee club senior year.

They walked into the tent city and made their way toward the College Gameday set, constructed on a permanent stage in the back of the park-like area near a Queen Anne-styled building. As they passed tent after tent, Kurt was amazed at some of the set-ups. Many tents were done up with fairy lights, chandeliers, elaborate centerpieces, even champagne fountains. Quite a few even had flat-screen televisions with satellites...which Kurt thought they’d probably need if they failed in getting game tickets. As they approached the show’s set, even a newcomer like Kurt could tell it didn’t quite fit in with the rest of the scene. The set was a garish orange, matching its Home Depot sponsorship, and was flanked on either side by giant television monitors. The crowd was more dense the closer they got, until they finally decided that their vantage point was as good as it was going to get, and settled in.

“So, what do you think so far?” Blaine asked.

“The fashion is impressive,” Kurt conceded. “And I’ll be honest, some of these tents are actually giving me ideas for our wedding reception. But is it always this crowded? Or is it just because of the show?”

“Huh, I don’t know. I mean it is a big game today.”

At that moment from behind them came a loud, long and drawn-out “ROLL TIDE!” They looked back to see a heavy-set man in a one-size-too-small crimson jersey walking away. The students they were surrounded by rolled their eyes; one of them muttered “idiot Bammer.”

Kurt said to no one in particular, “I guess he didn’t get the dress code.”

“No, he’s just bandwagon trash,” a female voice next to him said. Kurt turned to see an attractive blonde with an impeccable make-up job and a dress he knew for a fact was from Lilly Pulitzer’s Spring 2014 collection. She was also holding a red cup that was definitely more alcohol than soda. “Probably never even set foot in a college classroom.”

“A lot of those, are there?”

“Oh yeah...I mean, it’s not like we don’t have our share of them but Bama’s are just more obnoxious than everyone else’s. Oh, I’m sorry!” The girl stuck out her hand to shake. “I’m Shelby.”

“Kurt. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too. Who’s your friend?”

Kurt turned to Blaine, who was trying to read one of the many signs that fans had brought. Should he let her stick with the friend belief? Or should they be honest? Well, Ole Miss was supposedly more open; there was only one way to find out. “Oh, this is Blaine. Hey, Blaine?” He turned his attention to Kurt. “Blaine, this is Shelby.”

His charm flicked on like a switch. “Hi Shelby, it’s lovely to meet you,” he said as he took her hand. Kurt swore she almost swooned just like those Crawford Country Day girls.

Here it goes, he thought. “Um, Blaine is...my fiance, actually.”

Shelby’s eyes went like saucers, but in a good way. “Oh my God, congratulations, that’s so cool! So where are y’all getting married?”

Kurt internally breathed a sigh of relief as Blaine beamed and responded animatedly. “Well we live in New York so there, most likely. Unless they get marriage equality in Ohio, which then we could get married in our home state and that would just be so nice.”

“Yeah, well y’all will probably get it sooner than we will. Damn old men in Jackson, won’t let people who love each other get married; meanwhile they’re probably cheating on their wives right and left. Bunch of hypocrites.”

“Shelby, damn it you getting political again? You’re harshin’ my buzz, girl.” A tall, thin man wearing a wrinkled Oxford button-down and khakis turned from his conversation with his friend to their little chat.

“Travis, quit being an asshole, nothing can harsh your buzz. Kurt, Blaine, this is Travis. He can be kind of a dick but I still love him.”

“Nice to meet you Travis,” Blaine said, shaking his hand. Kurt nodded but didn’t say much. Travis reminded him a little too much of the McKinley jocks he had dealt with. He silently and shamefully hoped he and Blaine blended in.

Then Shelby piped up, “Kurt and Blaine are getting married!” Welp, Kurt thought. There went that.

Travis was silent for a moment. Then he shrugged and went “That’s cool, I guess. I mean, I don’t totally get it, but you do you.”

“Don’t get it, huh?” Kurt said.

“Nah, not really. I mean, I get lesbians, cause like boobs and all that are awesome. But I mean, I don’t get how girls like guys. Like guys are gross. And look, not every guy will say this, but dicks are kind of funny-looking.”

“Oh my God, Travis shut up!” Shelby shout-whispered as she slapped his shoulder.

“What, they are funny-looking!” Travis says, a little too loudly. “But thank God there are girls that like them, and if they can, then I guess some guys can too. So, whatever.”

Kurt and Blaine look at each other and figure well, I guess it’s progress?”

Blaine thankfully gets them to change the subject. “So, two undefeated teams, right? I mean how cool is that?”

“Fucking awesome, but that’s the SEC, man,” Travis said. “Hey, did I overhear you say something about Ohio?”

“Yeah,” Blaine said. “Kurt and I are both from there.”

“You watch the Buckeyes?” Blaine nodded. “Man, what the fuck happened with Virginia Tech?”

***

Two and a half hours later, Kurt and Blaine had managed to make several new friends. Blaine and Travis had gotten into an animated discussion about Ohio State’s previous loss and their mutual disdain for Alabama, which then led to a (thankfully-friendly) argument among Travis’s fraternity brothers about the rise of the Southeastern Conference juxtaposed with the apparent downturn of the B1G. Meanwhile Shelby and Kurt had talked shopping on Fifth Avenue (she was in the Ole Miss Concert Singers; they had traveled to New York to perform at Carnegie Hall a few months prior) and then segued into his internship at Vogue.com (“THE Isabelle Wright? Get OUT!”). During one of the commercial breaks, the D.J. played “Don’t Stop Believing” for the crowd, and Kurt and Blaine couldn’t help but sing along at the tops of their lungs. Shelby joined in, which didn’t surprise them, but then one of Travis’s friends (Greyson? Greg? Grant?) joined in with a beautiful tenor, which led to the discovery that they had all been in show choir, and in fact Shelby and Greydon (that was it) had both been in Attache, the same choir that Lance Bass had been in.

As it got closer to 11:00 a.m., the crowd began to shift and get louder. Blaine looked up at the giant television monitor.  “Oh my God it’s her! She’s here, holy crap!” Kurt and the others looked to see Katy Perry on the screen, making her way to the stage guarded by a phalanx of Mississippi Highway Patrolmen while carrying a tray of drinks. “Kurt, we’re so close. Oh my God I think I’m going to cry!”

“Yup, he’s super gay,” Travis snarked. Kurt, Blaine, and Shelby all threw him dirty looks. “What? I’m just sayin’, straight guy sees a smokeshow like Katy Perry, he doesn’t act like a twelve-year-old girl.”

“No, just a twelve-year-old boy, you horn dog,” Shelby shoved his shoulder. “Now quit disrespecting Katy. And apologize to Blaine.”

“Blaine, I’m sorry I compared you to a tween girl at a Bieber show.”

Blaine laughed. “Thank you, Travis.”

The crowd went nuts as they watched Katy’s antics on the screen. Shelby had to explain some of the jokes she made (the corn dog thing about LSU went right over their heads), but overall they thought she had done a great job. They even joined in with the last “Hotty Toddy” cheer as she ripped the elephant mascot head off of Lee Corso, before they went off the air and the televisions began broadcasting the Mississippi State/Texas A&M game. As the crowd dispersed to their tailgate tents, Katy stayed on the stage with the hosts and analysts as VIP guests took photos.

“Well, I guess we’d better find our tailgate. Shelby, which building is the Croft Institute? I think they said they would be set up behind there.”

“Oh, just go down the sidewalk toward the Union, and it will be the brick building on the left. And hey, our tent is set up over by Ventress, that brick building with the turret behind the stage, so come by.”

Kurt panicked; weren’t they all brick? “We’ll try to, thanks! It was nice hanging out.” Blaine said, as he and Kurt made their way through the crowds which had multiplied ten-fold over the course of the show. They weaved through, nearly losing each other a couple of times, until they found the building. They spotted a rainbow flag hanging from a canopy and figured that must be their group.

Kurt approached a young black woman with close-cropped natural hair wearing a red and blue patterned maxi dress. “Um, hi? I’m Kurt Hummel, I was told to find Thomas?”

“Oh, I think he’s over...huh, where’d he go?”

“Kurt?” He turned to see a stocky redhead walking towards him, wearing jeans and a shirt-and-bowtie combo that easily looked like something Blaine would own. He took his hand instantly. “Hi, I’m Thomas, I’m so glad you could make it! And this must be Bucket List Blaine!”

Blaine blushed at the new nickname. “Um, yes, hi, you can call me just Blaine if you want,” he said as he shook their host’s hand.

“Heh, no problem! Listen you guys are our guests, so eat and drink however much you want, visit, meet new people...that’s the great thing about The Grove. We treat everyone like family, even if you cheer for the opposing team!”

“I heard that!” another voice piped up. A thinner Asian man came up to the small group, wearing khakis and a polo shirt with a red script “A” on it.

“Oliver, these are the New Yorkers I told you about that came for the game.” Thomas motioned to each of them. “This is Kurt, and the one with good taste in ties is Blaine. Oliver here is the vice-president of Alabama’s Spectrum chapter.”

“Oh yeah, you’re the guys that go to NYADA, right?” They both nodded. “You have to tell me all about it; my sister wants to apply there.”

Over the course of the afternoon Kurt and Blaine met several members of both UM Pride and Spectrum; the groups had decided to host a co-tailgate as an example of unifying communities. They didn’t get to talk to Thomas as much as they had liked; he was a ball of energy however, in constant motion as he greeted guests and handed out rainbow stickers for people to put on their outfits. Nala, the girl Kurt had approached initially, told them that HRC President Chad Griffin and Dustin Lance Black were coming to campus to speak the following weekend, and she and Blaine soon were in an intense discussion about the latest campaigns to focus the equality movement in the South. Nala was from Fulton and and had been a sophomore at Itawamba High when Constance McMillen fought to go to prom with her girlfriend; that was the spark for Nala to get involved. Blaine became fast friends with her, and as it turned out, she had two spare tickets to the game since her parents couldn’t make it. Kurt was ecstatic; as great as the weekend was, he felt a little guilty that they hadn’t gotten tickets to the actual game. Now he could say that things were pretty much perfect.

***

As Kurt, Blaine, and Nala got ready to leave the tent and go to the stadium, they overheard a couple of men shuffling past them among the mass of fans going in the same direction.

“Goddamn I can’t believe they allow them to flaunt that shit on campus.”

“What do you expect? They got rid of Dixie, the Colonel, and the flag. Fucking liberals took over. No respect for traditions.”

“Man, when I was a student if you told everyone you were a faggot you got a kick to the face.”

Kurt’s heart sank. Blaine looked down at his feet.

“Eh, fuck them,” Nala said. They both looked back up. “They’re just mad because they know they’re losing. If it was up to them? Me, my parents, we wouldn’t have gone to school here either. But we won and they lost, so fuck. Them.” Blaine and Kurt smiled, as Nala looped her arms into theirs and guided them into the swarm pushing towards the stadium. “Now come on, I wanna watch my team beat somebody.”

***

Vaught-Hemingway Stadium wasn’t quite as imposing as Ohio Stadium back in Columbus, but it was practically vibrating with the noise of the crowd. Kurt and Blaine followed Nala in and made their way to their seats, a few rows up from the sideline. They barely had time to sit before the stadium roared to life with everyone standing and many linking arms. Kurt was startled when he felt a strange arm loop around his right elbow. He turned to see a boy who couldn’t be more than thirteen, wearing a red jersey with the number “38.”

“Come on, dude, it’s time to Lock The Vaught!”

At this point of the day, Kurt had just decided to go with it and hoped no one thought it inappropriate. He felt more secure with Blaine’s arm looped in his left, and as he looked down the row he saw Blaine had his elbow linked with Nala’s, who had her arm around Thomas’s bicep. Thomas’s other arm was around a middle-aged woman who was probably a past Homecoming Queen, and on and on...the entire stadium (well, probably not the Alabama fans) had become a human chain. And then the swaying started, back and forth, every last person in rhythmic motion. He glanced down to his right and saw the football team at the entrance to the field with their coach, all doing the same thing. When they burst out of their links and ran to the field, he felt the boy’s arm unloop as the rest of the crowd cheered.

Blaine still had his arm looped in Kurt’s, as he turned and shouted “That was amazing!”

Nala leaned over to them and said “We still have the ‘Are You Ready’ coming, too. Look up at the JumboTron.”

Kurt had figured out by now that when someone shouted “Are you ready?” then the official cheer wasn’t far behind. Everyone looked up at the giant screen as a quick Ford Truck ad went across, and then an actress he recognized from “The Help” came on the screen.

“Oh my...that’s Octavia Spencer! Oh I love her!”

They watched as she promoted her upcoming show on Fox, and then told the Rebels to “rip the Tide” before shouting “Are. You. Ready?”

Everyone attending erupted:

Hell, yes! Damn right!

Hotty Toddy

Gosh Almighty

Who in the hell are we? Hey!

Flim Flam, Bim Bam,

Ole Miss, By Damn!

As the cheering subsided a little, Kurt noticed Nala was laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

Nala was practically in tears. “Octavia went to Auburn. That was the most epic troll job ever.”

Kurt was still confused. “Um…”

Blaine said “Auburn and Alabama, big in-state rivals? Um...it’s like Teresa and Danielle on Real Housewives.”

“Oooooooohh, okay then.”

Soon they settled in to watch the game. Blaine was helpful with the general logistics, while the kid he had looped arms with earlier lent him his program so he could identify individual players, and offered up stats when one made a particularly outstanding play.

It was turning out to be a pleasant day, and then Kurt suddenly felt Blaine grab onto his wrist with the force of a steel trap.

“Oh my god, look!”

Kurt followed Blaine’s eyes two rows down, and couldn’t believe that they were practically feet away from Katy Perry. She had taken off the fuzzy pink jersey she’d worn on the Gameday set and was now wearing a leather motorcycle jacket over her plaid dress and a red “Ole Miss” visor.

Kurt looked back at Blaine. “Honey, are you shaking?”

“No! Well okay, yeah, maybe I am. Is that weird?”

Nala leaned in. “Why don’t you just go say hi?”

“You don’t just go say ‘hi’ to your musical hero!” Blaine hissed.

“Yeah, but when else are you going to get the chance? I mean yeah you guys are from New York so probably a bunch, but down here, we don’t get these opportunities a lot.”

Kurt nodded, “She’s got a point. Plus, wouldn’t it make today even better? As if it could?”

Blaine shifted. “I don’t know, I mean what if they kick us out?”

Kurt thought of the risk vs. reward, then noticed that a timeout had been called and took a chance. “Come on,” he said, pulling Blaine up and making their way down to where Katy and her manager were sitting.

“Hi, um, Ms. Perry?”

A big, burly guy who he guessed was her security immediately turned on Kurt, and he nearly ran the other direction, until Katy Perry turned her head as well and said, “wait, let him come over. Unless...wait you guys don’t work for Taylor Swift, do you?”

“Um, no?” Kurt said. “We just wanted, I mean, um,” he stumbled, and then grabbed Blaine and pushed him toward Katy and the security guy. “This is my fiance Blaine and he is your biggest fan.”

Blaine looked too stunned to want to kill him, Kurt hoped. “Hello, Ms. Perry, um Katy? I don’t know if fan could really cover it. I mean Kurt...that’s my fiance, right there, he said fan, but really, to me you’re more of a...mentor? I know it sounds weird, coming from a gay kid from Ohio, but really, Katy you are one of my musical inspirations. Your songs are just so bright and colorful, and they make me feel so much, and I can only hope to perform music and make people feel the kind of joy your music brings out for me.” Blaine was blushing by the end.

“It’s true, he really admires you as an artist,” Kurt said. “You know, when we first met, he serenaded me with ‘Teenage Dream.’ I think I fell in love with him right then.”

Katy smiled. “Aw, that is like the sweetest thing I think I’ve ever heard! Guys, that is so cool, thanks so much!” At that moment the commercial timeout ended and the players were going back to the field to line up. “It was awesome meeting you; you guys enjoy the game, okay?”

Blaine looked like he’d never stop smiling. “We will, thank you! Enjoy the game!” He stumbled backward to his seat, Kurt and Nala helping him. Blaine murmured to himself, practically in a daze. “I...I just talked to Katy Perry. And she thanked me, I mean us, Kurt. And she called us awesome.”

Kurt smiled. “She sure did, honey.”

***

Kurt was surprised at how much he was actually enjoying the game. As the sun was setting behind them, the score was 23 to 17 with Ole Miss winning. But Alabama had the ball and was making forward movement toward the goal line.

“Dang it, I hope we don’t lose again,” he heard the boy next to him mutter.

“Why? We’re winning right?” Kurt asked.

“Yeah, but they always come back to beat us. I don’t remember ever beating Alabama.”

Kurt looked down at his program and flipped to a page with the overall record. Sure enough, Ole Miss hadn’t beaten Alabama since 2003. So this poor kid probably hadn’t ever seen it happen.

“You know what?” Kurt said. “Don’t ask me why, but I just have a really good feeling about this one. You just wait.”

He looked back up to see Alabama lined up close to the Ole Miss 35 yard line. Their quarterback, Blake Sims, stepped back and threw the ball toward a receiver in the endzone. Kurt was about to apologize to the kid for his prediction when there was a roar from the North End Zone stands and the P.A. announcer called the pass incomplete. He looked up at the replay on the JumboTron and realized an Ole Miss player named Senquez Golson had caught the ball, far in the back of the endzone, and the referees were reviewing the play.

Kurt heard the murmurings around him. “That was an interception!” “No, he stepped too far out the back.” “I think he had a foot in, that’s all you need for college rules right?” “Watch these refs call it for Bama, they’re in Nick Saban’s pocket.”

The referee came back and a hush came over the stadium.

“After further review, the ball was intercepted in the endzone…”

The stadium exploded. Kurt couldn’t even hear the rest of the call due to the cacophony of sound. Blaine and Nala were jumping up and down, the kid in the jersey was screaming at the top of his lungs, and when he looked down even Katy Perry was celebrating. He could feel behind him just a mass of humanity pressing down to get closer, as the Rebels quarterback lined up with possession of the ball, and then took a knee.

People started to swarm around them and pour onto the field. Kurt stood there stunned until he felt Blaine grab one hand and Nala the other, with Blaine saying “come on, Kurt, let’s go down!”

They made their way to the bottom rail; Blaine leaped over it first and then Kurt. They turned around to assist Nala in her jump without tearing her dress, and then she turned to help Thomas get over and onto the field. Thomas stayed behind to help a couple of other people down, while they rushed into the sea of fans. The kid in the jersey and his friends were far ahead of them. People were dancing, celebrating, hugging and kissing. Several had climbed onto the goal posts, trying to drag them down. Kurt and Blaine tried not to get too swept up at first, remembering where they were. But then they saw all of these male students, frat boys and grown men, hugging each other, grabbing players and kissing them on the cheek. In all likelihood it was a combination of adrenaline and alcohol, but it felt good. No it felt amazing.

Kurt felt Blaine’s arms wrap around his middle and then lift him into the air. Kurt laughed and turned around in Blaine’s arms, giving him a wet kiss on his temple and burying his face in his neck. Blaine said in his ear, “Thank you Kurt. This was probably the best day ever.”

They heard someone yell “Timber!” and turned just in time to watch the posts come down.

Yes, Kurt thought. One of the best days ever.

***

“You sure you don’t want to come with us?” Thomas said as they walked back to the tailgate.  “Frank & Marlee’s is the best piano bar in town.”

“You mean the only one, Thomas,” Nala snarked. Though the game was over, it looked like people were going to stay in the Grove and celebrate for a while. They had already seen parts of the goalposts being hoisted down the streets to parts unknown, sure to end up in some fraternity house or the back of a bar.

Kurt and Blaine smiled with their arms around each others’ shoulders. “No, but thank you,” Kurt said. “To be honest, we’re exhausted. And our flight from Memphis leaves early tomorrow, so we need to get back to Tunica, pack up, all of that.”

“Yeah, and then we have class on Monday after being in airports and planes the day before.” Blaine added. “But seriously, you guys thanks for inviting us, for all your hospitality.”

“Please, it was no big deal. In fact it was really fun, showing you guys how we do down South,” Nala said. “Now, you guys have my Facebook right?”

“And Thomas’s, and Oliver’s,” Kurt said. “And we’ll be sure to show his sister around if she makes the audition rounds.”

“When, when she makes it!” Oliver shouted from behind them. “I know my sis, she’ll blow them away. Besides, I need a win after today.”

“Aw, poor Oliver gets all pouty when his team loses,” Thomas said. “But he’ll be over it after a round of karaoke and mojitos.”

They arrived at the shuttle pick-up point. “Well, this is us,” Blaine said. “Guys, thanks again.” Everyone exchanged hugs, and soon Kurt and Blaine were on the first leg of their trip back home.

***

“Hey, Kurt! Come take a look at this.”

Kurt came out of the bathroom where he was unpacking his toiletries to find Blaine sprawled across the bed on his stomach, looking at his laptop. Playing on it was a Vine from the night before, of Katy Perry standing on the bar at some place in Oxford called “Funky’s” according to the description, and chugging a beer before leaping into the crowd. “Looks like we missed quite the party last night.”

Kurt hummed, “Not likely. From what Thomas said I think that Frank & Marlee’s place would have been more our speed.”

He laid down next to Blaine and watched a few more clips. There were videos of the goal post being paraded through the town, highlights of the game, and a few others. He leaned into Blaine as the exhaustion from the last couple of days finally overwhelmed him.

Blaine suddenly spoke up. “Wow, check it out! Gameday’s going to be at Mississippi State next week!”

Kurt blinked, took the laptop from Blaine, and got up to put it back on the desk. “Nope, nuh-uh, no way, I need at least another year and extra shifts at the diner to recover financially from this weekend.”

A laughing Blaine came up behind Kurt and pressed up against his back. “Okay, fine, I wasn’t serious anyway,” he said, kissing the back of his neck and reaching around to stroke Kurt’s cock through his lounge pants. “But you know, it is Sunday, and we never got to number 39 on my bucket list…”

Kurt purred, “Oh, do tell…”