"Santana, I really don't want to go tonight," I said jabbing a piece of lettuce from my salad with a fork.

My mind was going crazy about this. I was getting dizzy. My fingers always fumbling.

I became a klutz.

Running into desks. Dropping my books. Bumping into people. I was a mess.

Whenever I thought about parties, I got like this. It was tonight.

I didn't want to go. I never want to go. Not after that night. Not after that party. I can't, I just can't.

It was a Saturday night. The night we stopped being kids. The night we became high schoolers. The night I was scarred.

As the car pressed on through the high-way, I took off my seatbelt and stood up from my seat. Letting the wind blow on me as we drove. Sure, it was dangerous. But I didn't care. We were going to Justin's house. It was Justin's We're-Finally-In-High-School party. He told us he'd pick up the closest of his friends a little early so we could chill before the party started. And I was one of the lucky one's.

Justin was my best friend back in middle school. We did everything together. We played little league soccer. We had sleep-over's. We even had our own band: Warblers Evermore.

We knew everything there was to know about each other. Our likes. Our dislikes. Our tastes. Our dreams. Our fears. Everything.

Except one thing. He didn't know one small little, important thing about my self.

I was gay.

It was in eighth grade when I knew for sure. All the guys would watch all the girls pass by, making comments about their asses, boobs, and face.

While watched the guys and made comments on their asses, muscles, and face.

I didn't know why. But I felt that attraction. I had never kissed anyone. Or had a girlfriend or boyfriend for that matter. But I knew I didn't like girls. And this is the reason why:

Jeffery: Justin's older brother.

I came over to stay the night at Justin's house when we were in the seventh grade.

Jeffery was the first guy I thought was super hot.

His dark blond hair. His tanned skin. His hazel eyes. Everything about him was…enticing.

Of course I didn't say anything. He's my best friend's brother. Plus he was going to be a junior and I was only going to be a freshman.

I didn't know if Jeff was into guys or not and I wasn't going to risk asking. So I just admired from a distance keeping my thoughts to myself. Never revealing them.

I told myself no one would know. Not a single soul. No one would know that I liked Jeffery. It would lead to chaos. My class mates would make fun of. Justin wouldn't talk to me. Jeffery would probably think I'm a freak.

And that was my mistake. I knew I shouldn't have done it. But I did.

I told someone.

Santana blinked a couple of times. She wasn't surprised thought. She knew I didn't like parties. She knew why. She new I never went to them and never wanted to. She knew why. I felt suffocated again. This is why I hate thinking about parties.

The cafeteria was always crowded. People everywhere. Eating, talking, or just messing around. Which didn't help to my uneasiness. I didn't like it. I wanted privacy. But obviously you couldn't get that in a school full of teenagers.

"It'll be fun Blaine," she said stealing a crouton from my salad.

"You know I hate parties," I said staring straight at her my eyes full of desperation.

"You hate going to parties when you're alone," she said smirking, "And you won't be cause I'll be there," she continued as she stole another crouton, "Trust me you'll have a blast. Everyone is going and you're one of my closest friends so you have to go." She finished batting her lashed innocently.

My face stayed stolid as if her words meant nothing to me but of course they did. Santana was the only person who I could call best friend and who I could trust.

"Puck will be there," she said smirking in a taunting voice.

"That's unfair," I said pointing at her, "You're using that against me,"

"All's fair in love and war," she said as she shrugged her shoulders.

She knew I liked Puck. I wanted to keep that a secret but with Santana as a friend: secrets aren't kept for long.

It was during P.E.

It was Friday which meant free day. Puck and the other guys were playing football while Santana and I hit the volley ball for a little while.

"You stare at him too much," she said abruptly.

"Wha-what are you t-talking about," I said nervously.

I tried to keep my cool. I tried to keep the best poker face I could. But it didn't work on Santana.

"According to my third Mexican eye," she paused as I spiked the ball to her, "You're always staring at a certain Mohawk wearing, football playing, ladies man, jock."

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," I said chuckling, trying to play my cool.

"Denial," she said in a sing-song voice.

"I'm not in denial," I said defensively.

"So you don't deny that you have a major crush on Puck," she said with a smirk on her face and a hand on her hip.

"OK maybe a little," I said letting the volleyball drop and hanging my head low.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of," she said getting closer to me, "Just look at him," And trust me, I always did. He was running to the far side of the field. He jumped in the air to catch the football. He was just so amazing.

I stared a little longer and sighed heavily.

"Don't drool now," Santana said jokingly.

But I just couldn't stop staring. His built arms. His broad shoulders. His hazel eyes.

She knew she could use Puck against me. I hated her for that.

I sighed heavily. I don't know how she des it but she always gets to me. This won't end well, I thought. I look at her face again. How could I say no to Santana? She'd always been there for me. She is been my number one supporter and I love her for that. If she is there then I'll be fine.

"Fine," I said crossing my arms, "I'll go."