The night in the hospital was the last time Dave would ever see Kurt Hummel before he left Ohio. Kurt's promise of friendship was well-meaning, but empty. Part of him knew not to keep his hopes up, but he was still heartbroken. Unbeknownst to Dave, Kurt had been swept up in the drama of his NYADA audition, later rejection, and his relationship with Blaine Anderson. But you know all of that.

A week after his hospitalization, Dave was called in to meet with the guidance counsellor as his school. His parents were asked to join him. Only his father came.

No one spoke. It felt as though a cold film was pulling at their skin. Opening his mouth, the counsellor clucked the saliva between his tongue and the roof of his mouth.

"Mr. Karofsky, following recent events we believe it to be in your son's best interest if he were to continue his Senior year at home."

"I understand," Paul didn't look up.

"We'll provide the contact information of some tutors who can assist him in keeping up with his courses and he will have to email his assignments to his respective teachers."

Paul nodded.

"On the off-chance that your son does complete his course work before the exam period, a one Sue Sylvester has offered to proctor Dave's exams."

Dave perked up at the sound of Coach Sue's name. It was one of the rare opportunities that she was going to be a decent human being.

"David," Paul finally looked at his son, "I want you to go and pack everything that's left in your locker. I'll join you in a minute."

Dave walked out of the office into the crowded hallway. Being early March, most of the students had begun to wear short sleeves. Dave stood out. Long-sleeve shirt up to the wrists to hide the scars. He had tried to use a broken CD case to cut himself before deciding a noose would be the best option.

Dave walked to his locker and fiddled with the combination. The silence made it harder to remember the three numbers. Once he could finally tug it open, he began piling everything he could into his backpack. There were footsteps behind him. Dave thought nothing of them; they could have been his father's. The figure leaned down and spoke in a dry, smug voice, "Faggot."

Nick.

Dave slowly pulled the strap of his backpack around his broad shoulder and began walking away.

"Hey, I'm talking to you!"

Nick followed Dave and grabbed his shoulder.

"Didn't you hear what I said?"

"Yeah."

Dave turned and swung his fist into Nick's chest. Nick collapsed and began gasping for air.

"Go fuck yourself, Nick."

Nick was still sputtering by the time Paul exited the guidance counsellor's office. There was a glare of disappointment in his face. He motioned for Dave to follow him outside to the car.

They drove home in silence. Dave reached for his phone to text Santana.

May have killed someone today. Or at least broken a rib. Thought Auntie Snix would be proud

Dave waited for a response. A couple of minutes later, there was a notification that the message was seen. She never responded.

By mid-March, Dave had received correspondence from the colleges he had applied to. He had managed to pull out a 1750 on the SATs earlier in the fall when he took it for the second time. With all of the crap he went through in his junior year, he had one of the worst scores in McKinley. Luckily for him, AP Calculus and Statistics brought his GPA up to a 3.5. OSU Lima Campus- accepted, but he tore it in half. There was no way that he was staying here. Michigan State University, accepted. New York University, wait-listed meaning he probably wouldn't get in. Boston University, rejected. University of Washington, University of Connecticut, accepted.

Dave could settle for Seattle or Mansfield. Hell, he could even find a place for himself in East Lansing if he tried hard enough. The rejection from Boston meant nothing to him, but being wait-listed by NYU stung.

Wait for me here, alright?

He remembered when he had been coerced into the Bullywhips by Santana. He remembered telling that to Kurt and the smaller boy being nowhere to be seen by the time class was through. Dave had spent the next 10 minutes slouched against a locker like some shiny, beret-toting jackass only to be stood up.

Dave opened his laptop and began to mindlessly browse Facebook. His newsfeed was littered with college acceptance statuses from acquaintances. He considered making one too, but who would care? His friend list was cut in half. Partly by his doing, more so by being removed by others. Azimio had been one of the others.

Dave debated whether or not to just delete his account altogether, but it was the only way he could keep tabs on some lives he was still interested in. Namely Kurt. Dave still hadn't gotten over him.

Beginning of April. Dave's life was now divided between the gym, his coursework, and Scandals with Sebastian.

"Well, well, well…"

"Yes, Sebastian?"

"Well… well, well!"

"Sebastian, you're drunk."

"Or am I?"

"You are."

"You aren't," Sebastian leaned into Dave's shoulder, "come on, I'm trying to be nice for once. I haven't even mentioned anything aboot your ridiculous jean jacket yet."

"Aboot?"

Sebastian bit his tongue but couldn't help giggling out, "You look like a late 80s, early 90s Canadian teen soap star."

Dave took his jacket and hat off, leaving them on an extra chair. Sebastian looked him up and down before loudly proclaiming, "You should go flirt with someone. Did I ever tell you about the time I met the man of my dreams-"

"Most of these guys are twice our age!"

"Twice your age, maybe."

"You're a year younger than me."

"Come on, killer. I bet you can-"

Sebastian's cheeks puffed up and yellow-green spittle began to drip from his lips. Dave quickly rushed him out of the bar to puke his guts out.

"Next time," Sebastian dry heaved, "Next time you'll meet a guy."

"I'll call a cab."

"You think this is hard? Try going from raccoon to bovine hormones; that's hard."

"I didn't say anything."

"You're lucky that I don't just give you a zero for talking during an exam, young Barney Frank," Sue rambled, "wait, I have a better insult… no, nothing. Is it just me, or has pregnancy made one Sue Sylvester soft?"

Dave got up to hand in his English 12 final. It was the end of April and Dave had managed to complete his courses on time to take up Coach Sylvester's offer to proctor his exams.

"Ah, ah, ah; sit down, Karofsky. There's something I'd like to discuss with you."

Dave did as she said.

"First of all, according to your academic record, which I do not actually have the authority to view, you took two of your three years of Spanish online instead of at McKinley with William Schuester."

Dave grinned, "I thought it would be better to actually learn the language."

Sue smirked, "If only the school board had felt the same way years before that greased-up cherub was emasculated by his flamboyant Latino replacement."

"Schuester was fired?"

"Unfortunately not. Instead he was sent to the department he would do the least damage in; history."

"How is that the least-"

"Shut up. On to my second point, through tracking your IP address, also an illegal act that I will not admit to in any American court, I know which colleges you've applied to. What do you plan on taking at these schools?"

"I was thinking sports management."

"I'm going to stop you there."

"But I was already done talk-"

"I was referring to your next sentence. David, if I could make a suggestion it would be to look into another program that these schools offer. Even if you don't change your major halfway through your degree and rack up more debt that you planned, the only jobs you'll find will be as the cliché gay program coordinator at a YMCA in a major city.

What I'm trying to say is, keep an open mind in college. If every sappy teenage drama in the past ten years has taught me anything, it's that a world of possibilities opens for gay kids after coming out."

Dave got up again to hand in his final exam, left it on the desk, and proceeded to walk to the door.

"One more thing; you'll be getting your admissions package from NYU in a few days. I know a guy with connections."

Dave smiled as he walked out the door.

Sue continued, "That guy is me. I hacked into the registrar's computer remotely. You're welcome!"