There are only a few things that Kurt remembers about the conversation that changed his life.
He remembers his slow trek down the hallway, begging his eyes to focus on the locker numbers, hoping he hadn't passed his yet. He vaguely remembers talking to Ms. Pillsbury, doubling over, and waking up in the nurse's office, his mouth tasting like vomit, pulse pounding in his chest.
He turned his head, breathing deeply, noticing April in the next bed, grinning at him.
"Took my advice, eh?"
Kurt grunted in reply. "Great advice, Ms. Rhodes. I m probably expelled now."
"Nah, honey, you'll be fine. Stomach bug going around school, remember? Why do you think I'm in here?" She winked at him. His stomach churned.
She slid over to sit next to him, lowering her voice, "You look like you got run over by a bulldozer. You drink that whole bottle last night?"
He nodded, wincing at his brain rattling around in his skull. "Wasn't I supposed to?"
"Oh, honey! You've gotta learn to pace yourself! You end up like this all the time and you ll be outta here faster than you can say 'liver failure'!" She snapped her fingers. "You think I got to where I am by binge-drinking?"
He did think that, but he just looked at the ceiling, squinting against the light. His brain felt like someone was beating drumsticks against it. He concentrated on his breathing, in out in out, trying to settle the nausea pressing against his gag reflex.
He opened an eye, looking at April who was still watching him. He looked at her fully and sighed.
"So how do I do it?"
She cocked her head to the side, humming thoughtfully. "You didn't hear this from me."
"Hear what from you?"
"Exactly", she scrunched up her nose, smiling wide.
Kurt is fairly certain that April Rhodes is a terrible human being.
But at the same time, the moments he remembers from before half the bottle of Chablis was gone, the moments where he was mostly lucid but with a slight tingle in his fingers and toes and teeth - those moments stand out. The discovery of turning his head and waiting for his vision to catch up as a new source of entertainment, slapping his cheeks to get feeling back into them, laying on his back and watching the ceiling fan spin; it was nice. Relaxing, an adjective Kurt doesn't often use in his life.
He parks as far away as possible from the front doors of the school, hoping he was discreetly sipping the dark wine from a travel coffee mug, feeling the warmth spread from his throat to his feet. A gentle buzzing behind his eyes, he feels light on his feet, feels like he is floating through the halls.
Floating face-first into a locker. He scowls at the retreating letterman jackets but revels in the absence of the blunt pain of metal on flesh. This numbness - he could get used to it.
It takes some clever maneuvering and secret under-the-bleachers conversations, in which Kurt feels like the world's biggest loser, but he uses the allowance his dad gives him to buy airline bottles from Brett and his stoner friends, who apparently have connections and interests that don't include smoking pot.
It takes a lot of trial and error, and a lot of Tylenol, to work out which types of alcohols work better than others to allow him to maintain a steady buzz without getting throw-up-drunk. He finds that while he prefers the sweet, sometimes dry, taste of wine, vodka is really the only thing that doesn't leave him feeling like his head is splitting open. It is also easily covered by gum or breath mints, something that is immensely helpful when he spies Ms. Pillsbury eyeing him suspiciously in the halls.
He makes it through much of his sophomore year unnoticed, which is just fine for him. He has a specific drinking schedule. Never before school - vodka and toothpaste is a deplorable combination. He arrives in this usual spot in the back of the parking lot, and from there, begins to build his buzz. He allows for enough time between lunch and glee to sober up, and is back to himself when he drives home in the afternoon.
Kurt will be the first to admit that he lets his classwork slip to the wayside. The alcohol constantly in his system keeps him just this side of lethargic, and his attention span is spotty at best. He daydreams in class, ignores the notes on the overhead projector, but completes tests and quizzes based on, mostly, common sense. McKinley isn't much of a challenge, even drunk.
Despite this, his falling grades don t go unnoticed by his father, but it isn't until after Christmas that his dad starts voicing his suspicions. Kurt has a catalogue of excuses ready, and his dad, ever-trusting, buys them. Kurt feels guilt like concrete in his stomach, but his dad is off his back.
He is early to glee club. He takes his usual seat on the back riser, staring down at the parent-teacher conference note in his hand.
"Bummer," Finn says, startling Kurt and taking the seat next to him. "Me too." He holds up a similar note, nodding to Kurt's. "My mom s gonna be pissed. I failed that history test last week."
Kurt nods, "Me too."
The rest of the club filters in, and Finn leans in conspiratorially, "I kinda miss when I was in middle school; my mom was dating this guy and she was so happy all the time that I never got in trouble. It was awesome."
Kurt looks up at Finn. "You're a genius."
"I am?" A half-smile appears on his face. "Cool."
There is a hasty introduction at the parent-teacher conference, and Kurt sits at an empty desk and watches his dad, his dad, flirt.
Soon, he finds himself alone several nights a week, his dad and Finn's mom, Carole, out to dinner, to movies.
It is several months into their relationship and they are happy, which, Kurt has to admit to himself, makes him a little happy too.
When his junior year starts, he feels like he needs a fresh start. He drinks the first day of school, but when the jocks ignore him, with the exception of one slushy, he decides to experiment with sobriety.
His friends in glee seem shocked at his active participation, and when Mr. Schuester uses Brittany's ridiculous name confusion to throw down his ideas, he goes back to his quiet self, ignoring the looks he gets for speaking out at all.
He won't let this control him. Except that, as the week drags on, he is more frustrated, angrier, and as tired as he's ever felt. It reminds him why he ever started in the first place. He wasn't listened to then, and he isn't listened to now.
It all comes to a head on Friday, when Mr. Schue ignores him for the millionth time and he loses it. He yells, barely holds himself back from cursing, and sits back in his chair, shaking. Everyone around him is shocked, trying to hold in their laughter, and he snatches his bag from the floor, stomping out of the room.
When he brings home his detention slip for his dad to sign, he signs without really reading over it, getting ready for his date with Carole.
"Stop acting up," is all he says before stepping through the front door.
That's when Kurt decides that Finn Hudson is the smartest person he knows.
And that sobriety is overrated.