The universe must really be against him, Kurt thought furiously one spring morning in Ohio. A gay is more accepted in the Wizarding community that the muggle community, and squibs are scorned upon. Gays are isolated in the muggle culture, but because hardly any muggles knew that the magical community even existed, it didn't really matter for squibs integrated into the muggle society.
But Kurt was cursed with both of these things; A gay Squib. He saw no place for himself in either world. He was a weirdo. An outcast.
And now his car had broken down. He could have, of course, fixed it if he had blown a tire, or something along those lines. But this was a little bit too advanced for him. His Uncle would be able to fix it with his wand in a second; however Kurt's cell had been dead this morning when he woke up, so the option to call was gone.
He pushed himself out from under the car and groaned. His brand spanking new jacket that he had bought at the mall last weekend, had oil smeared all down the left side. Seriously, what else could go wrong. Checking out his surroundings and listed his options. He noticed he was near Rachel's house. No way in hell was he going there. He could probably walk to Mercedes, but by the time he would get there, she would have probably have left. She always liked to get the auditorium in the mornings, belt out a few R&B songs without Rachel being there to critique her every note, and Mr Shue to limit her song choices. Nobody else lived near this area. Well Santana wasn't too far. But if he even stepped foot in Lima heights, he would probably be beaten within an inch of his life by all the try hard, homophobic thugs.
So Rachel's it was.
He began the trek, and about 5 minutes later arrived in front of the Berry residence. He had been there before, once, for some idiotic team bonding sleepover. He had also begged the universe not to force him into that house again. It had had excessive, clashing pinks, and it was hard to find a square metre of wall space that hadn't been decked out in Rachel Berry memorabilia.
He hesitantly edged his way up the front lawn. If Rachel's dads were the only ones home, he didn't want to be forced into a sex talk by two almost strangers. Rachel had been pestering him with the idea for months, and he was sure she would have told her dads about it. And if her dads were anything like Rachel, well, Kurt shuddered at the though.
He sucked in a deep breath, and marched the last few metres and was about to ring the doorbell, when a smashing noise came from the right window. He thought that it was the kitchen, but he wasn't one hundred percent. Being the coward that he was, and honestly thinking that the Berry's were being held hostage, or robbed, or worse, he leapt into the bushes just beneath the window. He sat there silently for a few minutes, listening intently. He heard murmurs, which sounded like, encouragement? who the hell were these people? Were they apprentice murders, taking a class of slicing 101?
After telling himself he was ridiculous, and his imagination was getting the better of him, he mustered up the courage to peep through the window and see what was going on. And what he saw was almost enough to make him fall back into the bushes.
Rachel Berry was levitating a plate about 2 metres in the air, while the tallest of her fathers watched on, obviously pleased. The more slender, effeminate male was sweeping up a shattered plate. Well that explains the noise. Kurt stood there, mouth agape, for a few moments. He finally came to his senses, and realised they would probably obliviate him if they knew that he had found out their secret.
He slowly moved his head down, not wanting to cause a sudden movement, giving Rachel or her Dads a reason to look outside. One safely out of view, he sunk to the ground. Rachel Berry was a witch; an inexperienced one at that, if the broken plate said anything. Kurt smirked at this. Rachel couldn't even perfect a simple levitating spell. He wondered how she reacted when she found out she want the best at something. Then the smile slid right of his face as he remembered he couldn't do ANY magic, great or small.
Kurt realised that he still needed to call his dad, and catch a ride to school with Rachel, so he went and knocked loudly on the door. He heard a rush, coming from the kitchen, and could just make out a muffled 'Put it away'. Seconds later the door opened, and a nervous looking Rachel stood there. The nervousness turned to shock as she recognized Kurt. Her eyes moved down to his jacket, and then a dumbstruck look came to her face. Kurt never let ANYTHING happen to his clothes.
"Kurt, while I am delighted in seeing you, I must ask, what on EARTH happened to your clothes?" Rachel asked, speaking fast and proper, like her usual self.
"My car broke down, a few blocks away and i got oil on my jacket trying to see if i could fix it. I obviously couldn't." Kurt stated bluntly. "Oh and I was wondering if I could borrow your phone, and maybe get a lift to school? And before you ask, I think I'd rather stay in my dirty jacket than borrow one of your deer sweaters" Kurt said the last part with a sneer, eying her plaid green skirt, matched with a deep purple reindeer sweater. Honestly, her dad's dressed perfectly fine. Not as good as Kurt, of course, but nicely enough.
Hurt flashed over Rachel's face, but she covered it up as quickly as possible. Nobody needs to know how she was feeling. It was part of the acting course she was doing, to improve her already versatile repertoire.
"Well I think you could have been a little politer about you approach, and I understand that my look is a bit hard to understand, but yes you may ride with me to school." Rachel stepped out of the doorway, ushering for Kurt to come in. "The phone is just down the hall, see. I've got to go collect my bag and I'll be downstairs in a couple of minutes."
With that, Rachel strode up the wide wooden staircase. Kurt sighed. He would never be able to understand a person's fashion sense when they constantly wore blouses that looked so horrendous with the rest of the outfit.
He dialled his uncle's mobile into the phone, and stared at the picture of Rachel holding 3 trophies in a ridiculous purple jazz costume. Burt picked up on the 3rd ring.
"Hello Hummel Auto Repairs, if it's got an engine and 4 wheels, we can fix it! This is Burt speaking." Burt said quickly and fluently into the phone.
"Hey Uncle Burt, it's just Kurt" Kurt all but sniggered into the phone.
"You really gotta stop calling me Uncle Burt, people will get suspicious. Dads not too hard to remember. But anyways Kurt, any reason for calling, or just to say hello?"
"Sorry, but It is quite different, calling you Dad when I've known you all my life as Uncle Burt. Besides, what couldn't I have just come over from England saying I was your nephew, not your son?"
"You needed a fresh start kiddo. You didn't want people to know who you were. Well at least your father wanted that for you. But, wait, why are you calling?"
Kurt sighed. He still didn't understand why his father wanted him gone so badly from England that he sent him to live with his uncle.
"Yes, dad. Unfortunately, my car broke down. Again. So I am stranded in a suburban nightmare, trapped in a one woman museum. I swear if the archaeologists ever dig this up in the future, they are going to be seriously confused, and possibly traumatized."
"Where's your car?"
"On Kentsworth Street, right next to the house with the hideous green door."
"Can you get to school?"
The conversation continued on like this for a few minutes when Kurt noticed an impatient Rachel standing at the door, tapping her watch, and glaring at Kurt. Kurt said his goodbyes to his Uncl- FATHER, (Funcle?) and headed out to the front lawn, where the sun had heated up the outside air considerably since his car had broken down about 20 minutes ago.
He entered Rachel's car, and was reminded horribly of her room. The seat covers were hot pink and fluffy, and there was a miniature stuffed rabbit dangling from the mirror. The steering wheel cover was a different, softer shade of pink in the same material as the seat covers. The whole effect made Kurt feel queasy. However, Kurt noted that she had a fairly decent set of speakers as she started up the car and the Soundtrack of Les Miserables started up, almost blowing up Kurt's eardrums.
Rachel Blushed and hurriedly turned the speakers down.
"I love that song." She stated simply.
"As do I, but I don't understand how you can have pitch perfect hearing whilst blasting you eardrums out in this death-trap." Kurt replied haughtily. "However there are more pressing matters at hand."
Rachel looked at him, confused. He could see that the gears in her head were turning, presumably guessing all the possible issues that Kurt could have with her. Other than her wardrobe, and Finn she was coming up blank.
Kurt looked her right in the eyes, and said as confidently as he could muster.
"How long have you known you were a witch?"
A.N I know I am not a fabulous writer, I have no intention of ever becoming one. I do however need to improve my writing because I'll be in my last year of high school next year, and i want to be able to articulate my answers in my HSC properly. So if you could help pointing out serious flaws in my technique, that would be great. But don't be too mean, please, this is my first fanfiction after all :) But if you're still reading this, Thanks heaps.