May 2002
"Hey, what's this, don't I get a hug?" Burt called after his son, who had walked straight by him, eyes to the ground and heading directly to his room. He put down the sports section and followed him. Something was up. Burt knocked, and then tried the door handle.
"Come on, buddy, we talked about this. No locking the door. Open up." He waited for a few moments, and then he heard the door unlock. He slowly pushed it open.
Kurt was standing on the other side, looking dejected and sporting an angry red bruise on his cheekbone.
Burt frowned. "What the hell happened?" he let out, "Did you get into a fight?"
Kurt shrugged and looked down on his toes.
Burt waited, knowing his son would eventually come out with it. He wasn't the best with talks like this, but if some punk kid at school was hurting his son, he'd-
"I started it."
"What? Why would you do that?" Burt asked.
Kurt shrugged again.
Burt sighed. "Okay. Sit down. Let's talk about this. What happened?" He nodded at the bed. Kurt walked over to it and sat down, crossing one leg over the other and folding his hands in his lap. What eight year boy old sits like that? Burt asked himself, but dismissed the thought. It wasn't important right now.
"Today at crafts hour we had to make greeting cards for Mother's Day," Kurt said quietly. "So I did."
"Okay?" Burt said, not really sure yet where this was heading.
Kurt let out a sigh. "Francis took it and tore it in half, saying I didn't need it anyway because I don't have a mom. Everyone laughed." Burt could tell he was trying hard to keep his voice steady, but it was wavering a little anyway. "So I punched him." Kurt raised his chin and offered his father a small smile.
"And he punched you back?"
"Yeah."
"Then what happened?"
Kurt's smile faded a little and he looked down on his hands. "Ms Martins said to say she wants to talk to you."
"Will she be talking to Francis' dad too?"
Kurt pulled up his shoulders and dropped them again. Burt pushed down his anger and put a big hand on Kurt's back.
"Look, I don't condone solving your problems with violence, Kurt, but what that kid said was really stupid. You have a mom, and if you wanna make her a card, we can do that, you hear? We can go and bring it by on Sunday."
Kurt nodded a little, leaning into his dad's touch. His eyes were wet with unshed tears.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" Burt asked. "Get out your box with your glitter glue and that fancy Japanese amigo paper-"
"Origami, dad," Kurt corrected him, the corners of his lips curling up. He slipped off the bed and almost skipped to his cupboard.
"Hey, you wanna watch your DVD with me later? The one where Mary Poppins is queen?"
The smile on Kurt's face shone so brightly his bruise was barely visible anymore.