Near Revival Stirring

I.

I never really got the whole God thing before Grilled Cheesus came into my life. Like, yeah, Quinn was always pretty religious, and she seriously looked like a Hallmark card angel when she'd interrupt our make-out sessions to pray, but she'd pray for like a half-hour at a time and then get all mad that I fell asleep. And I know Mercedes is spiritual because her voice is like an entire gospel choir blasting the roof off. No way somebody who sings like that hasn't been kidnapped by a church before, is all I'm saying.

But Mercedes' God is so different from Quinn's God, who's definitely different from Rachel's God and Puck's God. Everyone's got their own direct line to their own personal Big-G God. I never had that connection, and I was all right with that. I had football and Glee and Call of Duty and stuff, and sure it wasn't perfect and Quinn gave me the stink-eye when I compared the Speech on the Mountain to Sarge's speech from Halo (I just meant they're both inspirational...).

Then I found God.

It was like finding MISSINGNO. Sure, it was two weeks after Puck did and he made fun of me when I cried over my glitched Hall of Fame entries, but that's not the point. I have found my personal Lord and savior.

Just because He's branded into a week-old grilled cheese sandwich doesn't make Him any less lordly, right?

Especially since my God directly answers His followers' prayers. Well, I'm His only follower (so far- I found some awesome clip art for my Cheesurch Club sign-up sheet), so I guess He's just not that busy yet, but still, I feel full of this special glow, like a pregnancy glow, but without the crazy baby hormones. I'm invincible. God's got my back — literally, 'cause I've got God in a primo ziploc bag in my backpack — and He hasn't let me down yet.

When I hit the locker room after gym class, I think for sure that everyone's gonna be all grins and smiles. Considering that we broke a decade-long losing streak (we've gone eight full years with zero wins) thanks to Artie "Cannonball" Abrams and yours truly, I was fully expecting "Grats" and "You're the man" and fist-pumps and shoulder-bumps and all the awesome stuff about being friends with the guys that I honestly kind of missed. Glee's fun and all, sometimes, but I really, really hate being slushied, you know? It's like making out with a corn-syrup hurricane.

(And, okay, technically Kurt's the one who broke our losing streak last year, but he quit and we went right back to losing, so... it's nice to go back to winning. The first game of the season, that's a big deal.)

But in the locker room, everyone's talking about Kurt. And not the way they usually talk about Kurt ("I'mma beat the soprano out his freak ass the next time he wanna try and mouth off at me," "You think he goes into the bathroom with the girls so much 'cause he pisses sitting down?") but in this low-voiced way, like what they're talking about is way more serious than the fact that Kurt sometimes wears glitter eyeshadow or heeled boots or whatever. (Which they take pretty seriously to begin with.) When I ask, one of the guys gives me this hairy kind of look and tells me that Kurt's dad is in the hospital.

I tell him that's a messed-up joke to make. I don't really believe him, not until my phone goes off and it's my mom saying the same thing.

I don't think I've ever gotten dressed so fast. I'm still damp when I throw on my shirt and zip up my jeans. My hands are shaking like I'm cold, but I'm not cold, I'm scared, and I hate how that feels, like this big knot of all the stuff that clogs up the shower drain except it's in my throat and makes it hard to breathe. I don't even remember walking from the locker room to Glee Club, just being in there and seeing Kurt's dead, white face, and when my voice comes out it's so much louder than I mean it to be and he's looking at me like I 'm a zit with six legs and I run out of words and stare at my huge feet.

"Well, I'm sorry, Finn, it didn't occur to me to call you because he's not your father."

I mean, he's right that Burt's not my father. Burt's a great guy and I'm okay with him and Mom dating now, especially since Mom and I are back in our old house so there's some breathing space and respectable distance there. But he's not my dad, and I know how close he and Kurt are. If I was as close to losing my mom as Kurt is to losing his dad, I'd be pretty torn up, too.

I'm really trying to get used to this whole being a family thing, and I definitely didn't mean to make Kurt feel even worse than I'm sure he already does. When he lets me sit down, I try to give him a comforting pat on the shoulder, but he doesn't even let me do that for him, so I stick my hands in my lap awkwardly instead.

I want to do something for him. For our family, you know? It's not fair that we're just starting to make this family thing work and already it's being taken away from us. A mom, a dad, and two kids, a big brother and a little brother (Kurt might be a month older, but he comes up to my knee so he's my little brother). That's what I want, and maybe it's not a family like everyone might think of when they say "family," but I thought we really had a shot at this thing. At the idea that it's gonna be over before it even really gets to start, I can feel my eyebrows pinching together like tweezers, giving me a headache.

Sitting next to Kurt during Glee that day is like sitting next to an ice cube in plaid pants. He hasn't used his hair stuff or his fancy cologne, which is weird to notice, I guess, but Kurt did kind of spend a lot of time practically on top of me last year, so I know how he's supposed to smell. Sitting next to him today, I might as well be sitting next to anybody, and you can say what you want about Kurt, but he isn't like anybody I know.

When he says he doesn't believe in God, it's like winter just fell in that room. And he walks away like he's leaving tracks in the snow, but nobody follows him.