Kurt had been at Dalton three months and thirteen days when Blaine mentioned it the first time. Yes, Wes had mentioned it before, but Kurt had been feeling small and didn't take him seriously. But when Blaine said it, it was different. It was real. He no longer felt small. He felt huge; too big for the tiny cage he was trapped in.
"When we're on that council, the Warblers will be awesome. Wes would never let us now, but I'd like to try one of those mashups you were telling me about. And we'll do showtunes," he insisted fervently.
"The Warblers could never do showtunes in eight part harmony," Kurt grumbled to himself. Blaine rolled his eyes at the comment.
"Sure we could! Our choices would be limited, but if we split up the parts enough, we could do it with a featured soloist."
Something snapped in Kurt. His blood boiled under his skin and he glared at Blaine.
"A school like this shouldn't be allowed to do showtunes. This school impedes creativity and self expression! There is no room to be a diva is your goddamn hallowed halls!" he told Blaine, trying to keep his voice down.
"Kurt, I thought you understood. Dalton isn't about standing out, it's about blending in," Blaine reminded him. Tears started to form in the soprano's eyes.
"I can't believe I was ever okay with that," Kurt said quietly, his voice on the brink of breaking the entire time. He picked up his bag and left the commons. He went up to his dorm, and as soon as he closed the door behind himself and saw his roommate was gone, he broke down into sobs, sitting on his bed. He pulled out his phone and speed-dialed his father. Trying his hardest to tone down his cries, he spoke.
"Dad?" he said, obviously miserable.
"Kurt, what's wrong? Did something happen?" his father questioned, worry clear in his voice. Kurt let out a string of wails, covering his mouth in attempt to muffle them. Burt's heart broke at the sound.
"I hate it here," Kurt said, forcibly calming himself down to talk. "I wanna come home. Please, please let me come home." His sobs picked up again, and he listened as his father shushed him comfortingly.
"I'm coming to get you. Have your stuff packed when I get there, okay?" his father told him softly, trying to subside his son's tears. "I'll be there in two hours tops. See you then, Buddy."
Kurt said goodbye and pulled his suitcases out from under his bed. With a mixture of anger, frustration, and eagerness, he threw his clothes into the larger suitcase and his few belongings in a smaller suitcase. This wasn't the first time he had cried from wanting to leave so badly. But this was the breaking point.
He cleaned up the small space, doing menial tasks until his father arrived. By the time Burt called to say he was outside, his side of the room looked like nobody had ever inhabited it.
Kurt loaded his suitcases into the truck and got in the front. His eyes were still puffy, and his face was littered with blotches of red, but he had calmed down significantly.
"Hey Kurt," his dad greeted him, putting a rough hand on his shoulder. Kurt gave him a weak, relieved smile. "You gonna be okay, kid?"
"I never thought I would say this, but I'll be fine once I'm back in Lima," he said. Burt chuckled and pulled out of Dalton, heading back to Lima.
When they got home, it was already ten. Finn and Carole were on the couch, watching the credits roll by on the TV, both of them half asleep. Kurt laughed inwardly and went down to his basement. It still looked the same as when he left. Probably because he came and cleaned it most weekends, but still. It felt like Kurt hadn't been there in months. As soon as he laid down in bed, he fell asleep.
He was woken up by the angry scream of his generic ringtone sounding through the room. He looked around for signs of Finn, but found none. He had fallen asleep on the couch.
"Hello?" Kurt answered. He turned on his lamp and looked at the clock. It was ten in the morning.
"What the hell, Kurt," Blaine said, furious as Kurt had ever heard him. "I go to bring you coffee and your room is empty. All your stuff is gone. I go to Dean Morgan; he says you've already faxed over your withdrawal papers. Said your father called and claimed you had had a family crisis and had to move back home. I'm calling your bluff, Kurt. You're running away from your problems again!"
Kurt smiled. His father must've faxed over the papers. He would have to thank him with pancakes for dinner.
As Blaine's words registered with Kurt, he scoffed. "Oh please, Blaine. I'm facing my problems. Lima is the home of my problems. I ran to you to escape them. That was a mistake. Now, if you don't mind, I have to start my skin care routine."
With that, Kurt hung up the phone and got out of bed. He walked upstairs in his pajamas and was met by Carole's arms wrapped tightly around him.
"Oh, Kurt, honey!" Carole said, pulling back from her hug and beaming at Kurt. He returned the smile as she her hands on his shoulders and spoke again. "I'm so glad you're home, sweetie. Just wasn't the same without you." She hugged him again, very quickly, and put on a pair of earrings. "I have to run some errands; I'll be gone for a few hours. There's pizza in the fridge!" she said as she grabbed her purse and went out the front door.
Kurt shrugged to himself and walked over to the fridge, opening the large metallic door. He found a few slices of pizza in a baggie and took one out, studying it.
"Oh, who the hell cares?" he asked himself before biting into it. It wasn't gourmet cuisine, but it would do.
He walked around the house for a while, slowly eating his pizza as he explored the familiar grounds. At noon, he was consumed by boredom and went back to his room to shower and get dressed.
Two hours later, Kurt Hummel finally felt like himself. Dressed in his favorite Alexander McQueen, rest his soul, and hair styled perfectly, he went out to visit Lima once again.
Or at least he was going to, but his phone rang and he was forced out of his oblivion.
"Kurt, hey, can you take your registration papers to McKinley for me?" his father asked through the phone.
Kurt's perfectly plucked eyebrows furrowed. "What?" he asked in disbelief.
"I forgot to grab 'em before I left," Burt explained.
"But I just got home last night!" Kurt complained. Burt huffed into the phone.
"No buts. If you're coming back, I want you in school tomorrow. No point in bein' lazy, Kurt. Got it?" Burt said firmly, not a question.
"Yes, I got it," Kurt affirmed anyway. "I'll bring them over now. Bye, dad."
He walked back to the kitchen and saw the offending papers on the counter. He grabbed them and his keys, and headed to McKinley.
He waited in the Navigator for the teenaged population of Lima to be released from their prison, and was quickly met by a loud bell and a frantic stream of people exiting the school. He waited a few more minutes, considering staying in the car until he knew the Neanderthals were at football practice, but thought it no use. He was in Lima to face his problems, not hide from them. And by them, he meant Karofsky. So, instead, he texted Mercedes.
you won't believe where I am, Kurt sent. After just a few seconds, he got a reply.
can't talk, boo. glee's starting, the text said.
An idea popped into Kurt's head. He smiled to himself and put his phone into his pocket as he opened the door and stepped out. He grasped the registration papers in his hands and took a deep breath as he walked into the huge building. He dropped off the papers at the counselor's office and followed the familiar path to the choir room.
He peeked inside, trying to be stealthy, and saw Mr. Schue gesturing toward the whiteboard. He couldn't tell what was written, but he saw Tina and Mercedes look toward each other and roll their eyes. The rest of the group seemed to be groaning. Now was a good a time as any to make an entrance. Kurt passed through the ever open door and heard a shriek.
"Spy!" Rachel yelled, pointing to the boy. He smiled widely as Mercedes ran up to him and tackled him to the floor, hardly caring that it was cold and hard, and would probably cover his favorite shirt in a layer of dust. He was with his best friend again.
"Cedes, honey, not that I don't enjoy being thrown to the floor and crushed, but I really would like to get up now," Kurt said, out of breath as he laughed with the other diva and got to his feet.
"Baby, you know it's all my sexy that's crushing you," Mercedes said, sassy as ever. They wiggled their fingers together and moved their hair, their signature handshake.
By now, everybody in glee was out of their chairs and starting to gather around Kurt. They took turns enveloping him in tight hugs and patting him on the back. As people filed back to their seats, Will smiled and walked toward Kurt.
"Kurt! It's great to see you. Would you like to join us for glee today? Or is that considered treason in the Warblers?" the teacher asked jokingly. A small rumble of laughter came from the rest of the club. Kurt smiled.
"Oh, definitely. But, thankfully, I don't have to worry about that anymore," he said happily. "I no longer attend Dalton Academy."
New Directions collectively gawked at him in silence, until Mercedes' voice boomed from the front row.
"Oh, hell to the no! White boy, you got some explaining to do," she said loudly.
"I'm officially back at McKinley. I left to escape my problems and that was the wrong thing to do. So I'm here to face my tormentors. Plus, I really, really missed you guys," Kurt explained.
"Well, then," Shuester started. "Welcome back, Kurt!" He motioned for Kurt to sit in his old spot by Mercedes in the front, far left. Kurt beamed and took his seat. His fellow glee clubbers hooted and hollered for him for just a moment, before Schue quieted them.
"It's great that Kurt's back, but we still have our assignment! Guys will be singing songs by female artists; girls will be singing songs by male artists. Alright? Now if-" Will said, walking back over to the whiteboard. He was cut off by a tall, broad shouldered figure rushing into the room and taking a seat on the far right, in the middle row of seats.
"Sorry I'm so late," the boy said, masculine as all get out. Will turned around and faced him.
"It's fine, Dave. But since you're so late, I'm gonna have you demonstrate the assignment for the week."
Dave? Kurt's eyes strained to focus on the squirming person as Finn clapped the mysterious boy on the back. Dave.
"Karofsky?" Kurt said, louder than he meant to. The aforementioned fixed his eyes on Kurt and they widened. After a moment of complete shock, a new look flooded Karofsky's eyes. Kurt didn't recognize it in the slightest. It wasn't fear, or intimidation, or hatred, and it wasn't evil. It wasn't menacing at all. It was surprise and uncertainty, which faded into surprise and joy.
Dave ignored Kurt and paid attention to Will again.
"And what's the assignment?" he asked, almost challenging.
"Guys are singing girl's songs and girls are singing guy's songs," Shue said, almost challenging back.
Dave looked deep in thought for a moment, then smiled and jumped up. He nodded as he walked past the glee advisor and was soon whispering to the guitarist of their faithful jazz band. He eyed Dave oddly and shrugged, then spoke to the rest of the players. Dave walked to the center of the room with a huge grin still plastered on his face, and Will walked over to his chair by the piano and sat down.
The band started up with a crash of the drums, quickly followed by a string of chords from the guitar. It took Kurt a few seconds to recognize the song, he was so in shock.
Karofsky was in glee club. Dave Karofsky was in glee club. Had Kurt been thrust into the Twilight Zone? Was he being Punk'd? No, he wasn't famous yet. He tried to ignore the confusing fact that the bully had invaded his club and focused on the performance. Karofsky's ineptitude would make him feel better.
Two words had left Dave's lips when Kurt realized what he was singing. He stared intently at the larger boy, who stared right back as he sang.
"No sir, well I don't wanna be the blame, not anymore.
It's your turn, so take a seat we're settling the final score."
Kurt studied the boy and took the lyrics at face value. He did enjoy settling things through song… 'But not with Karofsky', he reminded himself.
"You have made it harder just to go on
And why, all the possibilities
Well I was wrong."
Dave turned his head to Kurt at just the right moments, looking at him only when the words he sang were true enough to tell. At 'I was wrong', a look of sheer sincerity crossed Dave's face. Kurt's betraying heart skipped a beat.
As Dave melted into the chorus, Kurt looked him up and down. He allowed his mind to wander to the positives of Karofsky's appearance, comparing it to that of the former Karofsky.
He looked good. He had traded his letterman and polo for a t-shirt and open button-up. His jeans didn't have any unnecessary holes and they fit him well. The outfit in general was Kurt approved, and definitely a step up from three months before. It also looked like in those three months, Dave had lost a good fifteen pounds, resulting in a slimmer face and a flatter torso. To say the least, yes, he looked good.
Gazing eyes soon distracted Kurt from his thoughts and guided him back to the lyrics.
"I wonder, how am I supposed to feel when you're not here.
Cause I burned every bridge I ever built when you were here.
I still try holding on to silly things, I never learn."
'When I'm not here… When I was at Dalton?' Kurt thought to himself. He shook himself of the thought. 'No! Dave Karofsky is not effectively portraying emotion and message through song. I refuse to believe so… I wonder if he really burned any bridges when I left. Obviously, since he's in glee club of all places.'
"If I ever start to think straight,
This heart will start a riot in me,
Let's start, start, hey!"
Kurt found himself smiling as he and the girls joined in for the group "that's what you get when you let your heart win." He rolled his eyes with a grin and paid great attention to the rest of Dave's performance. He was incredibly disappointed when reality hit him with the fact that the Neanderthal was good. In fact, he was great, and it really kind of angered Kurt. Dave wasn't Kurt-great, but he was just as good as Finn. And it seemed as if Dave knew this. The new look in Dave's eyes was confidence.
The music faded and Dave sat back down in his plastic chair. Kurt looked over to him and tried his best to glare, but according to the smirk on Karofsky's face, it was to no avail.
The rest of glee passed quickly. After the initial shock of Kurt's arrival and Dave's song wore off, the guys and girls separated as they usually did. Kurt decided to join the girls in conversation. They talked about song choices for a while, but soon digressed into a discussion about something frivolous and wonderful. At least, it did where Kurt was involved, with the girls. Over with the guys, the talk was more serious.
"Dude, what are you gonna do?" Puck asked Dave, who was sitting in the middle of the group, trying not to stare at Kurt.
"Man, I have no idea," Karofsky replied, head hanging and a hand on his temples.
"You gotta tell him," Finn said abruptly. All the guys looked at him. "When you told us you were in love with Kurt, we let you in glee without making things right with him. You promised you would when you got the chance. This is your chance, Karofsky, come on."
Dave sighed and nodded. He had been dreading this since he joined the club. He was allowed in on several conditions. Apologizing to Kurt was the main condition.
"I wouldn't even know what to say," Dave insisted, a lame excuse. He knew exactly what he would say. He knew exactly what he would do. But he was scared. He needed something, someone, to make him brave. He needed courage.
He lifted his head to look to the other guys for help. He made the mistake of looking up and letting his eyes drift to the girls, where Kurt was sitting. The fashionista was laughing uncontrollably, his mouth open in a huge smile. Kurt's eyes met Dave's and when his smile didn't falter, Dave smiled back. He had his courage. He stood up and kept eye contact with the other boy, nodding his head over to a spot closer to the door. Kurt gave him a confused look but got out of his seat and followed the boy away from the chatter of the club. The boys had started idly talking about football and the girls were invested in a heavy debate about spring trends.
Kurt stood before Dave, arms folded across his chest. A defiant look played on his more delicate features as he spoke. "Karofsky," he said simply.
"Look, Hu-Kurt. I want to apologize. But not here. Come to lunch with me tomorrow. We can go off campus, somewhere that doesn't smell like feet," Dave suggested, his face serious.
"What makes you think I would do that?" Kurt questioned, one foot turning instinctually to be diagonal to the other. His stance was pure challenge.
"Because, you're not stupid. You're clever and bright, and you know that something's different about me and you're dying to know what and why," Dave retorted. Kurt huffed out a breath. How was he supposed to say no to a boy who says things like that? He was supposed to hate Karofsky, right?
"I wouldn't say dying to know. But fine, I will indulge you with an audience to whatever the heck you're wanting to say," Kurt replied. Dave smiled.
The noise from a shoe scuffing the floor distracted Kurt from the bright and crooked smile plastered on his (former?) tormentor's face. Kurt found himself with the urge to smile back, using all his willpower to fight that urge. He turned around to face the girls, who were three or four feet closer to the pair, apparently trying to listen in.
Kurt rolled his eyes and started toward the girls, sitting amongst them once again.
"Boy, if you hold anything back, I swear," Mercedes trailed off, shooting daggers at Kurt to let him know of his possible impending future. Despite Mercedes warning, Kurt let a smile slip and spread across his features.
"It's nothing, Cedes. Really, he's just going to apologize over lunch tomorrow. I have bigger issues right now, for example, plotting my comeback outfit," the fashionista said confidently. His eyes wandered to the other group, settling on Dave, who was being clapped on the back by Finn and pounding fists with Puck. He would wonder what they were congratulating him on later. Right now, he wanted to plan a truly perfect ensemble of couture.
He discussed pattern mixing and contrasting versus clashing colors with the glee girls for another forty five minutes before Schue announced that it was time for everybody to head out. Kurt hugged Tina and Mercedes, his fashion confidantes, and started out the choir room door.
As the New Directions filed out, Kurt's eyes betrayed him, following the movements of the newest member as he exited. Dave's eyes caught his and he smiled at the shorter boy. Though Kurt still expected the malicious smirk of a Neanderthal, he was met with a genuine look of not only happiness, but something like adoration. Kurt found himself smiling back at Dave Karofsky.
The hours passed quickly after glee club was dismissed. Kurt drove home and found Carole in the kitchen. He helped her cook their dinner and when his dad came home, had a family meal with the people he missed most. After dinner, he went down to his basement bedroom and spread out various outfit options on his bed. He spent hours creating a masterpiece; if there was anything to be proud of in his short life, he was sure it would be this arrangement of attire.
Kurt placed his clothes on the desk by his bed and lifted the covers, climbing in. He laid there for several minutes, thinking about everything that had happened that day; how surprisingly well everything had turned out. He fell asleep with the goofy grin that had graced his features the entire night.