verynervously
Nov. 11, 2012, 12:48 p.m.
33%
Mr. Hummel had made an announcement at the beginning of the class, and at first Blaine hadn't been too worried, but then he held up that list and said, his voice curt and holding so much authority, 'So. Does this look familiar to anyone? I've asked all the other classes before you and no one's owned up to it yet, so I'm just going to give you all the benefit of the doubt and let myself believe I haven't found my perpetrator yet."
K - Words: 2,130 - Last Updated: Nov 11, 2012 1,343 0 0 2 Categories: AU, General, Characters: Blaine Anderson, Kurt Hummel,
Author's Notes: (This story had no summary and I'm too brain-dead to think of one, but an excerpt is just as well.) Written for a 100 Drabble Challenge I'm working on, and features teacher!Kurt, a mildly stressed Blaine, and mentioned-in-passing Sebastian.
Mr. Hummel pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes sinking closed as he sighed. "Alright. Explain this to me one more time."
Blaine shrank back in his chair some more, his overheated face twisting into some expression that probably looked as ugly as it felt, his discomfort much stronger than his desire to keep it from physically manifesting on his face.
The piece of paper on the table between them glared a pristine, vibrant white that Blaine's periphery couldn't ignore, though he so wished he could. Everything about this situation felt like a specially designed brand of hell, and what he wouldn't give to repent and make it all disappear.
"Look, Mr. Hummel, I know what I did was stupid-"
"Did you just now figure that out?"
Blaine ducked his head against the sting of Mr. Hummel's tone. He wasn't known as the 'fun' teacher, or even the most lenient one, but Blaine had never heard him sound this angry before. His face was flushed – probably not just from anger but maybe even embarrassment as well, oh god – his eyes piercing into Blaine's every time he dared to look directly at him, both his hands on his hips as he just stood there, towering over Blaine.
Mr. Hummel had made an announcement at the beginning of the class, and at first Blaine hadn't been too worried, but then he held up that list (the one in between them right now, separating them more than any physical distance could ever manage) and said, his voice curt and holding so much authority, "So. Does this look familiar to anyone? I've asked all the other classes before you and no one's owned up to it yet, so I'm just going to give you all the benefit of the doubt and let myself believe I haven't found my perpetrator yet.
"So, if you know anything about the list I'm currently holding in my hand, I would greatly appreciate it if you'd stick around after class ends so that we can have a little chat about it. And you're in luck, because my planning period starts as soon as that bell rings, which means we can take as long as we need to figure all this out." Then he tossed it gently onto the tray on his desk, not-so-subtly threatened to take the list to the headmaster if no one came forward by the end of the day, and that was that.
Almost.
Blaine couldn't focus for the rest of the lesson, just sat and stared at the board, his hands clasped tight over his open notebook. Yeah, he was panicking; he was panicking a hell of a lot. He hadn't instigated the idea, he'd only compiled the data into a list and then posted it where he’d been told to post it, but that was still involvement. In fact, it made it seem like he’d done a majority of the work, which would leave him with a majority of the blame; that had probably been Sebastian's plan all along, the bastard.
Blaine’s had a track record pure as the freshly fallen snow since kindergarten, and now he had no idea what would happen to him. Detention? Suspension? Could he even be expelled for something like this? It didn't really seem that severe when he thought about it, but oh god what if-
The sudden downward spiral his life had taken had left Blaine immobile enough that he stayed seated once the bell rang. He'd known his classmates were staring at him as they passed on their way to the door, but he didn’t look above shoulder-level. He didn't need to see their faces.
Mr. Hummel's reaction though, once the classroom had cleared and the chalkboard had been erased and he turned around, giving a small start when he saw that not everyone had left; the way his eyes had widened then dulled, how his body slumped just enough to be noticeable, the disappointment that had been written so clearly on his face, disappointment in Blaine oh god-
Now, though, all he seemed to be capable of were angry outbursts and sighing. Blaine kept his head down; hearing felt bad enough without enduring the sight as well.
Mr. Hummel sighed. "I'm sorry. Really. That was mean. I just don't understand. You're so better than this."
Blaine felt the heat flooding to the corners of his eyes and tried to blink it away, swallowed against the thick, choked-up feeling in his throat. He might get expelled and cast off to some remote island, but he would not cry in front of his teacher, he just wouldn't.
He tried to look up at Mr. Hummel, as simple a move as lifting his head, but he couldn't get his eyes to go up higher than the first line of that damned list, right under the title 'Hottest Teachers At Dalton Academy'.
Mr. Kurt E. Hummel (12th Grade History).....................................................................33%
Blaine wondered what the 'E' stood for.
"For the record, I don't think you actually did this."
Blaine did lift his head then, and caught Mr. Hummel's weary stare. His arms were crossed now as he leaned back against the table behind him, and his eyes were still trying to bore holes into Blaine's head, but he didn't seem as angry anymore, though he did look plenty more tired.
Mr. Hummel continued, "I meant what I said. You are better than this. You're an excellent student, you aren't disruptive in class, you never cause a scene." He paused, pursing his lips a bit as he thought. "Well, not any bad scenes, at least."
It took Blaine a moment to realize he was referring to the impromptu performances the Warblers put on occasionally, and he felt himself blush with the semi, maybe/maybe-not compliment.
"I don't know how involved you are with this list, or if you're even really involved at all, but I need you to tell me the name of the person that started this. That person is the one who needs to be punished, not you."
"Why though?" Blaine asked. The question slipped out before he'd thought it all the way through and Mr. Hummel's raised eyebrow and challenging stare left him sputtering to explain, "I-I mean, you're the only teacher that knows about it, right? Which means I can take it down as soon as I get to a computer and no one else important will have to know. And..."
"And?"
"And I don't see how it's that big a deal?" Blaine said in a questioning lilt and oh, the look that earned him.
"Blaine, that list is entirely inappropriate."
"It's also just a list. A stupid combination of numbers and words that don't really mean anything! No one really cares. And I can get rid of it, so really, in the long run, what's it matter?" Blaine said with a breathy laugh and a compulsive shrug of his shoulders, feeling so untethered. It was like an insane out-of-body experience, listening to himself argue with his teacher. He might not have been in trouble before, but he was bound to be in for it now.
Mr. Hummel watched Blaine for moment with a contemplative look on his face that Blaine didn’t know what to make of. Then he leaned over and took the list from the table. He glanced it over like he might a test paper up for grading, like he knew exactly what he was looking for and where to find it, then asked, "Are these results accurate?"
Blaine scrunched his eyebrows together, confused. "What?"
"These percentages. Are they correct?"
"Yes, I did the math myself."
"So you have the raw data for this information."
"...Yeah,” Blaine replied, a harsh edge slipping into his voice. This is stupid.
If Blaine had sounded petulant or out of line, Mr. Hummel seemed unfazed by it.
He placed the piece of paper back on the table, face down, and said, "So a group of students – please god don't tell me how many there were. They banded together and made a list of the most attractive teachers at their school, and then put that list where anyone could find it. Please tell me you see the problem with that."
Blaine bit his tongue against the responses to that that hit him first – “Students talk about how hot their teachers are all the time.” “It was just a few guys from the Warblers and some of their friends, not everyone knows about it.” “You weren't supposed to know about it anyway.” “You won, though.” “I voted for you, if that makes you feel any better.” – and instead, gave him the answer he wanted to hear.
"Yes sir, I do see the problem that could arise from that, and I'm sorry. When I agreed to help, I didn't think it would matter, but you're right."
Mr. Hummel nodded. "Good. I'm glad we understand each other. Because not only could something like this potentially endanger my job and the jobs of all the other teachers on here if it falls into the wrong hands, but I personally know the drastic effects of lists like this."
"Really?"
He nodded again. "During my sophomore year, in glee, a list sort of like this went around for about... I think it was about a week. I don't really remember it, I just know I wasn't on there myself, but I do remember the grief it caused us and I haven't been too fond of lists of this nature ever since."
Blaine looked away as he processed Mr. Hummel's story, rushed and lacking in detail as it may have been. Blaine could understand. It made him feel god-awful for being involved in it at all, but he reminded himself that it's not like he knew beforehand. He liked Mr. Hummel, but he wasn’t obsessed or anything.
He turned back to Mr. Hummel. "I really am sorry. I wasn't trying to hurt you, or jeopardize your job here. None of us meant to cause any problems. I promise I’ll take it down as soon as I can, and then all this can go away."
Mr. Hummel gave him a small smile, almost a smirk. "Though I doubt your fellow classmates are so honorable that they haven't already printed the list out themselves like I have, I would appreciate that. Thank you. Just keep an eye out for anyone who's got a copy and get rid of it immediately. Tell whoever it was you helped do this to do the same. And I won't write you up, I suppose. The thought of explaining this to anyone else feels slightly mortifying and anyway, there's not much good in punishing the messenger, right?"
Blaine nodded, smiling back, every bit grateful. He felt like he could finally breathe again.
"Thank you, sir," he muttered in a little voice that he can't help, ducking his head just a bit before straightening up. "I'll be needing a note for my next class."
"Oh, of course. Just give me a sec and then you can be on your way," Mr. Hummel said as he stood upright and walked over to his desk. He sat down, pulled a pad of purple sticky notes from one of the drawers. He scrawled a quick something before pulling the note off the stack and holding it out on his finger to Blaine as he approached the desk. Blaine took the note and, in exchange, held out the list to Mr. Hummel, who just stared at it.
"You should probably be the one to do something with it," Blaine explained. Mr. Hummel blinked, looking dazed, before taking the sheet of paper.
"Yes, you're probably right. Thank you."
Blaine nodded once, then walked away from the desk. He made it to the doorway before he stopped, thought for a moment, then turned back around before he changed his mind.
"Mr. Hummel?"
"Hm?" He was already focused on the stack of papers in front of him but he looked up and he was wearing the glasses that he sometimes wore in class, looked so smart and so mature but so young at the same time and oh my god this is why I voted for you in the first place please stop-
"It was Sebastian," he said, a small grin on his face, waiting. Blaine knew how Mr. Hummel felt about Sebastian, not blind to the aggressive tension between the two that Sebastian swore up and down carried over into his grades; his reaction should be priceless.
Mr. Hummel narrowed his eyes, not appearing to understand at first, and Blaine thought about clarifying, but then his face cleared and he looked absolutely, positively not surprised at all.
"Of course he would," he damn near exclaimed, rolling his eyes dramatically as he slumped back down to his papers and Blaine couldn't stop laughing as he turned and headed down the hall.
Mr. Hummel's voice calling, "Thank you, Blaine!" drifted down the hall after him and Blaine bit his lip against the pull of the wide smile that seemed bound and determined to shine.
Blaine shrank back in his chair some more, his overheated face twisting into some expression that probably looked as ugly as it felt, his discomfort much stronger than his desire to keep it from physically manifesting on his face.
The piece of paper on the table between them glared a pristine, vibrant white that Blaine's periphery couldn't ignore, though he so wished he could. Everything about this situation felt like a specially designed brand of hell, and what he wouldn't give to repent and make it all disappear.
"Look, Mr. Hummel, I know what I did was stupid-"
"Did you just now figure that out?"
Blaine ducked his head against the sting of Mr. Hummel's tone. He wasn't known as the 'fun' teacher, or even the most lenient one, but Blaine had never heard him sound this angry before. His face was flushed – probably not just from anger but maybe even embarrassment as well, oh god – his eyes piercing into Blaine's every time he dared to look directly at him, both his hands on his hips as he just stood there, towering over Blaine.
Mr. Hummel had made an announcement at the beginning of the class, and at first Blaine hadn't been too worried, but then he held up that list (the one in between them right now, separating them more than any physical distance could ever manage) and said, his voice curt and holding so much authority, "So. Does this look familiar to anyone? I've asked all the other classes before you and no one's owned up to it yet, so I'm just going to give you all the benefit of the doubt and let myself believe I haven't found my perpetrator yet.
"So, if you know anything about the list I'm currently holding in my hand, I would greatly appreciate it if you'd stick around after class ends so that we can have a little chat about it. And you're in luck, because my planning period starts as soon as that bell rings, which means we can take as long as we need to figure all this out." Then he tossed it gently onto the tray on his desk, not-so-subtly threatened to take the list to the headmaster if no one came forward by the end of the day, and that was that.
Almost.
Blaine couldn't focus for the rest of the lesson, just sat and stared at the board, his hands clasped tight over his open notebook. Yeah, he was panicking; he was panicking a hell of a lot. He hadn't instigated the idea, he'd only compiled the data into a list and then posted it where he’d been told to post it, but that was still involvement. In fact, it made it seem like he’d done a majority of the work, which would leave him with a majority of the blame; that had probably been Sebastian's plan all along, the bastard.
Blaine’s had a track record pure as the freshly fallen snow since kindergarten, and now he had no idea what would happen to him. Detention? Suspension? Could he even be expelled for something like this? It didn't really seem that severe when he thought about it, but oh god what if-
The sudden downward spiral his life had taken had left Blaine immobile enough that he stayed seated once the bell rang. He'd known his classmates were staring at him as they passed on their way to the door, but he didn’t look above shoulder-level. He didn't need to see their faces.
Mr. Hummel's reaction though, once the classroom had cleared and the chalkboard had been erased and he turned around, giving a small start when he saw that not everyone had left; the way his eyes had widened then dulled, how his body slumped just enough to be noticeable, the disappointment that had been written so clearly on his face, disappointment in Blaine oh god-
Now, though, all he seemed to be capable of were angry outbursts and sighing. Blaine kept his head down; hearing felt bad enough without enduring the sight as well.
Mr. Hummel sighed. "I'm sorry. Really. That was mean. I just don't understand. You're so better than this."
Blaine felt the heat flooding to the corners of his eyes and tried to blink it away, swallowed against the thick, choked-up feeling in his throat. He might get expelled and cast off to some remote island, but he would not cry in front of his teacher, he just wouldn't.
He tried to look up at Mr. Hummel, as simple a move as lifting his head, but he couldn't get his eyes to go up higher than the first line of that damned list, right under the title 'Hottest Teachers At Dalton Academy'.
Mr. Kurt E. Hummel (12th Grade History).....................................................................33%
Blaine wondered what the 'E' stood for.
"For the record, I don't think you actually did this."
Blaine did lift his head then, and caught Mr. Hummel's weary stare. His arms were crossed now as he leaned back against the table behind him, and his eyes were still trying to bore holes into Blaine's head, but he didn't seem as angry anymore, though he did look plenty more tired.
Mr. Hummel continued, "I meant what I said. You are better than this. You're an excellent student, you aren't disruptive in class, you never cause a scene." He paused, pursing his lips a bit as he thought. "Well, not any bad scenes, at least."
It took Blaine a moment to realize he was referring to the impromptu performances the Warblers put on occasionally, and he felt himself blush with the semi, maybe/maybe-not compliment.
"I don't know how involved you are with this list, or if you're even really involved at all, but I need you to tell me the name of the person that started this. That person is the one who needs to be punished, not you."
"Why though?" Blaine asked. The question slipped out before he'd thought it all the way through and Mr. Hummel's raised eyebrow and challenging stare left him sputtering to explain, "I-I mean, you're the only teacher that knows about it, right? Which means I can take it down as soon as I get to a computer and no one else important will have to know. And..."
"And?"
"And I don't see how it's that big a deal?" Blaine said in a questioning lilt and oh, the look that earned him.
"Blaine, that list is entirely inappropriate."
"It's also just a list. A stupid combination of numbers and words that don't really mean anything! No one really cares. And I can get rid of it, so really, in the long run, what's it matter?" Blaine said with a breathy laugh and a compulsive shrug of his shoulders, feeling so untethered. It was like an insane out-of-body experience, listening to himself argue with his teacher. He might not have been in trouble before, but he was bound to be in for it now.
Mr. Hummel watched Blaine for moment with a contemplative look on his face that Blaine didn’t know what to make of. Then he leaned over and took the list from the table. He glanced it over like he might a test paper up for grading, like he knew exactly what he was looking for and where to find it, then asked, "Are these results accurate?"
Blaine scrunched his eyebrows together, confused. "What?"
"These percentages. Are they correct?"
"Yes, I did the math myself."
"So you have the raw data for this information."
"...Yeah,” Blaine replied, a harsh edge slipping into his voice. This is stupid.
If Blaine had sounded petulant or out of line, Mr. Hummel seemed unfazed by it.
He placed the piece of paper back on the table, face down, and said, "So a group of students – please god don't tell me how many there were. They banded together and made a list of the most attractive teachers at their school, and then put that list where anyone could find it. Please tell me you see the problem with that."
Blaine bit his tongue against the responses to that that hit him first – “Students talk about how hot their teachers are all the time.” “It was just a few guys from the Warblers and some of their friends, not everyone knows about it.” “You weren't supposed to know about it anyway.” “You won, though.” “I voted for you, if that makes you feel any better.” – and instead, gave him the answer he wanted to hear.
"Yes sir, I do see the problem that could arise from that, and I'm sorry. When I agreed to help, I didn't think it would matter, but you're right."
Mr. Hummel nodded. "Good. I'm glad we understand each other. Because not only could something like this potentially endanger my job and the jobs of all the other teachers on here if it falls into the wrong hands, but I personally know the drastic effects of lists like this."
"Really?"
He nodded again. "During my sophomore year, in glee, a list sort of like this went around for about... I think it was about a week. I don't really remember it, I just know I wasn't on there myself, but I do remember the grief it caused us and I haven't been too fond of lists of this nature ever since."
Blaine looked away as he processed Mr. Hummel's story, rushed and lacking in detail as it may have been. Blaine could understand. It made him feel god-awful for being involved in it at all, but he reminded himself that it's not like he knew beforehand. He liked Mr. Hummel, but he wasn’t obsessed or anything.
He turned back to Mr. Hummel. "I really am sorry. I wasn't trying to hurt you, or jeopardize your job here. None of us meant to cause any problems. I promise I’ll take it down as soon as I can, and then all this can go away."
Mr. Hummel gave him a small smile, almost a smirk. "Though I doubt your fellow classmates are so honorable that they haven't already printed the list out themselves like I have, I would appreciate that. Thank you. Just keep an eye out for anyone who's got a copy and get rid of it immediately. Tell whoever it was you helped do this to do the same. And I won't write you up, I suppose. The thought of explaining this to anyone else feels slightly mortifying and anyway, there's not much good in punishing the messenger, right?"
Blaine nodded, smiling back, every bit grateful. He felt like he could finally breathe again.
"Thank you, sir," he muttered in a little voice that he can't help, ducking his head just a bit before straightening up. "I'll be needing a note for my next class."
"Oh, of course. Just give me a sec and then you can be on your way," Mr. Hummel said as he stood upright and walked over to his desk. He sat down, pulled a pad of purple sticky notes from one of the drawers. He scrawled a quick something before pulling the note off the stack and holding it out on his finger to Blaine as he approached the desk. Blaine took the note and, in exchange, held out the list to Mr. Hummel, who just stared at it.
"You should probably be the one to do something with it," Blaine explained. Mr. Hummel blinked, looking dazed, before taking the sheet of paper.
"Yes, you're probably right. Thank you."
Blaine nodded once, then walked away from the desk. He made it to the doorway before he stopped, thought for a moment, then turned back around before he changed his mind.
"Mr. Hummel?"
"Hm?" He was already focused on the stack of papers in front of him but he looked up and he was wearing the glasses that he sometimes wore in class, looked so smart and so mature but so young at the same time and oh my god this is why I voted for you in the first place please stop-
"It was Sebastian," he said, a small grin on his face, waiting. Blaine knew how Mr. Hummel felt about Sebastian, not blind to the aggressive tension between the two that Sebastian swore up and down carried over into his grades; his reaction should be priceless.
Mr. Hummel narrowed his eyes, not appearing to understand at first, and Blaine thought about clarifying, but then his face cleared and he looked absolutely, positively not surprised at all.
"Of course he would," he damn near exclaimed, rolling his eyes dramatically as he slumped back down to his papers and Blaine couldn't stop laughing as he turned and headed down the hall.
Mr. Hummel's voice calling, "Thank you, Blaine!" drifted down the hall after him and Blaine bit his lip against the pull of the wide smile that seemed bound and determined to shine.