Kurt's contemplating trying on a spectacular pair of Lucky jeans when he catches sight of Mr. Perfect. The tall brunette sports a well-warn red and white lettermen jacket and two amazing dimples on either side of his mouth. The guy has a Hollister bag draped from one elbow and a petite blonde girl on the other. The girl dips her head and gives Mr. Perfect a playful push. Mr. Perfect laughs. The sound makes Kurt giddy.
He watches them for a minute, they continue the playful interaction, and he tries to decide if the blonde is a girl friend or the girlfriend. It becomes blatantly obvious when the girl lifts up and presses a quick kiss to Mr. Perfect's lips. He whispers softy in her ear then she bounces away, heading towards the fitting rooms.
Unlike most guys who are abandoned by their girlfriends in a clothing store, Mr. Perfect doesn't look the least bit anxious or out of place. He does however, look a bit bored. He looks around the store, eyes flickering from clothing to person and back again. For one brief second his gaze touches Kurt, and Kurt doesn't have a chance look away. Instead of shifting in unease or grimacing in disgust, Mr. Perfect lives up to Kurt's chosen name and flashes him a friendly smile.
The back of Kurt's knees go weak.
Mr. Perfect doesn't seem to notice. He's moved on, taking in the rest of the moderately busy store. Normally, that would be that. Kurt's little fantasy of a happy, successful life with Prince Charming would just be that, and it would last until the next encounter with a good looking boy. However, for some unknown reason, Kurt feels courageous.
He folds the jeans and lays them on top of the others, then weaves his way around the fixtures of clothes to where Mr. Perfect is still standing. He seems to be bopping his head in tune with Katie Perry's Fireworks, which is playing rather loudly from the speakers placed around the store. Kurt's heart beats faster.
"Hey," Kurt says when he near enough to reach out and brush Mr. Perfects broad back.
Mr. Perfect turns. Kurt's breath catches. He's even hotter up close, and somewhat familiar looking. Kurt pushes that though aside, because he's one hundred percent sure that he'd remember seeing this guy before.
"Hey," Mr. Perfect says back, jerking his head up in greeting. His voice is friendly, but a hint of confusion clouds his tone, as if he's unsure why Kurt is talking to him.
"Girlfriend trying on clothes?" Kurt asks, tone sympathetic, though he feels no sure thing. Trying on clothes is one of his favorite things.
"Yeah," Mr. Perfect says and drags a hand through his short hair. "A boyfriend's duty." He shrugs, like waiting for his girl is no big deal. It makes Kurt like him more.
"I'm Kurt," he says and holds out his hand.
Mr. Perfect smiles and gives him a rough shake. There are callouses on his fingers and under the pads of his hand. Hockey player, not football, Kurt thinks, which is quickly followed by, how screwed up is that? I've had Karfosky's hands on me enough to know the difference between football and hockey callouses.
"Mitch."
Mitch, Kurt thinks, successfully distracted from the patheticness of his life. What a great name. It's unusual, but not freaky. He imagines their names scripted together on invitations or thank-you cards.
"Nice to meet you Mitch." Kurt smiles then lowers his eyes. "So you go to Westerville South?" he asks and reaches out to touch the white WS cut-out letters on Mitch's jacket.
Mitch blinks, stares down at the spot Kurt touched and says, "Uh, yeah."
"I go to Dalton," Kurt says without prompt.
"The all boys school, right?"
Kurt nods. "Yeah, I just started. I used to go to McKinely, in Lima."
"Cool," Mitch says. "I have a cousin that goes to McKinely."
Kurt is about to ask who when Mitch's girlfriend makes a speedy return.
"Hey," she says. Kurt hates her light, airy voice, and perky smile. She loops her arm through Mitch's and glances between the two boys questioningly.
"This is Kurt, who goes to Dalton Academy but used to go to McKinely," Mitch says, drawing his girl in close.
"Dalton? Cool." The girl offers her hand. "I'm Allie."
Kurt gives her a brief handshake. He hates her clean and polished nails. Allie scrunches her nose and looks up at Mitch. "Doesn't your cousin go to McKinely?"
Mitch nods. "Yeah." Kurt shifts his hips, and Mitch turns his attention back to the boy. "Hey, do you happen to know…"
"Karofsky! What's up man?" A bodiless voice shouts across the room.
Kurt's heart jumps into his throat. Karofsky? His head whips around, cute boy forgotten, scanning the store frantically. What would he be doing here? He doesn't see the bully anywhere. No tall frame or McKinely High jacket.
"Allie, you still dating this loser?" A bulky boy, whose jacket matches Mitch's, comes barreling around the clothing fixture and slaps Mr. Perfect on the back.
Allie laughs and Mitch pushes the other guy away. A grin stretches across his face. "Shut up Duncan," Mitch says.
"You coming to the basketball game tonight Karofsky?" Duncan asks.
Mitch nods and reaches his hand out for one of those macho fist slaps.
Suddenly, Kurt feels like he's been punched in the stomach. "Karofsky? You're related to Dave Karofsky?" Kurt asks incredulously. There's no way in hell Mr. Perfect is cousins with the torment of Kurt's life.
"So you do know him," Mitch says, dimples flushing on either side of his mouth. Like a flash of lightening, Kurt can see the resemblance. The same strong jaw and athletic build. The same green eyes and broad grin. Once he sees it, Kurt can't believe he missed the similarities.
"Uh, yeah." Kurt sounds completely undignified, but for once he doesn't care.
"Cool." Mitch reaches out and cuffs him on the arm. "Next time you're home tell him I said hi."
Kurt really doesn't know what to say to that. In fact, he really doesn't know what to think about this whole situation. So he just mumbles out, "Okay," then watches as Mitch and his friends make their way out of the store.
He can't process.
Eventually, a worried employee asks him, "Are you alright?"
Kurt mutters out something about the difficulty of choosing the right jeans. She nods and walks away, but Kurt doesn't care about her strange look. He can only focus on one thing. One word. One name.
Karofsky.