I guess I can never actually finish a story before I start a new one… so here we go! Umm, I really like the idea of Karofskerson, sooo, here's Dave in his senior year! RIB owns all characters, except the following that are mine: Ms. Jones, Arizona Garcia and Scarlett Fiero. Happy reading :-)

Dave walked in to his first class of senior year smiling wider that he had in the past two years. For once, he was actually happy. Blaine was transferring over to this school; the two boys had decided that it would work out in the end. Kurt didn't have a problem with it, and whenever Dave would be able to man up and tell people, Blaine and him would be official.

Of course, there was the whole manning up part. He was still unable to tell anybody other than Kurt, Santana and Blaine about the… gay thing. Azimio would be the worst, though. The past 3 years, both he and Z had tormented all the gay kids in the school- whether they were out (Kurt) or just suspected of being gay (anybody who couldn't bench 120 or more). So the hard part would definitely have to be telling his homophobic best friend that he was, in fact, as gay as they come.

Anyway, Dave walked into that first hour AP Euro Lit class with a pocketful of sunshine. This continued when he saw that his teacher was Ms. Jones. Ms. Jones was legendarily the best English teacher in the building. Not only that, but she was the best anything teacher in the building. She was committed to her students past and present. She was infamous for her classroom activities and decorations that rotated per season and holiday. Right now, the room was decorated in a classic first-day apple motif- clichéd, but effective. Not only was she a 'fun' and 'creative' teacher, but she was also the only black teacher at their school. Not really a big deal, because Lima wasn't necessarily racist, but it was different enough that all the new students were slightly in awe of her smooth cocoa skin and close-cropped hair.

The sign on the board said to sit wherever, so Dave found a seat in the back and waited to see who else would walk in. Sure, most of the people taking this class took AP American Lit last year, but you never knew with their school. There wasn't really a prereq to taking APEL, so anything could happen. Dave waved at a girl named Arizona who had been in his AP History of Americas class last year. She went over and sat by him.

"Hey, Dave!" she stretched her long legs out in front of her, casually trying to show off her new tan. "How was your summer?"

Dave thought about that question. It was something that everyone asked the first few days back, but how much could he answer? Sure, a simple 'Good, you?' would suffice, but most people would follow up with a 'What'd you do?' or something like that. And Dave had trouble with that one. He had hung out with Blaine mostly—watching musicals on the flat screen TV at Blaine's house. But could he really tell anyone that? Of course not.

"Pretty good, Ar. Boring, for the most part. We didn't do a whole lot." That was the truth. Dave and Blaine had sat on the couch, sweating from the intense heat, most of the summer months. Either they were watching musicals, or talking, or making out—for most people, this would have been uneventful. For Dave, it was phenomenal.

"We? Who's this allusive 'we'?" Arizona smirked, prodding Dave with one perfectly manicured finger. "Does somebody got a girlfriend?"

"Nope, still single!" he proclaimed loudly, taking a second to bask in the fact that three girls looked over, smiling to themselves. Sure, he was gay, but they didn't know that, and it was just as flattering to know that the girls wanted him. "Hows about you, 'Zona?"

"Oh, you know how it is. After Cinco de Mayo, nothing fun happens with my mama's side of the family—so I went to Mexico to visit my dad. Sleep all day, and fiesta all night. You shoulda been there Dave… cute guys for me, and muy caliente girls to satisfy your every need!" Arizona glanced at the clock, and drummed her desk with her fingers. "It was great… oh God, is he really in this class?"

Dave glanced up to the door, and covered his mouth so as not to laugh. While Z was his best friend, even Dave would readily admit that the sports oriented boy wasn't the type to take an AP Lit class. Every student in that room could see through the transparentness that was Azimio wanting to win Arizona's heart. Dave knew that she already liked him, but neither Z nor Arizona actually knew that yet. To Dave, it was obvious… but Arizona refused to show it. Instead, she pretended to hate Azimio, constantly poking fun at him, and letting him tease her.

Azimio walked in loudly, letting the whole room- mostly Arizona- know that he had arrived. He strutted to the back of the room, sitting in front of the pretty Mexican girl, and faced front. Finally, the room filled and the bell rang.

Ms. Jones walked in with a bubble of a fish bowl, and a stack of white sheets. "Good morning students!" She cried with a surprising amount of gusto for so early in the morning. "I said… good morning students!"

A few people near the front raised their hands slightly in some form of greeting, but this was not good enough for Ms. Jones. "I said good morning, class. What do you say when someone greets you and wishes you a good morning?" Still being greeted with silence save for a few groans, Ms. Jones rolled her eyes in a grand motion of annoyance. "Mr. Karofsky!" She exclaimed, a smile dawning on her face. "I met Dave at the Y this summer, and what a pleasure that was. Would you like to show the class what I expect from you all when I wish you a good morning?"

Blushing furiously, Dave cleared his throat. "Good morning, Ms. J. Oh, and uh, nice skirt." A few people turned to get a good look at Dave, and then, realizing that they either knew him from other AP classes or from the football field, turned back in their seats and mumbled good mornings to the smiling teacher.

"Thank you, Dave!" Ms. Jones passed the sheets of white paper back, allowing time for the back row to get their copies before she spoke again. "This is a getting to know you sheet. If you would, please crumple it up and put it in the recycling. We won't be using papers like this to get to know each other. No, actually, we're doing a different sort of assignment. By tomorrow morning, I would like all of you to come to school with a Me-Box. No limits on size or shape, just put in 10 things that you think represent you. We'll be presenting tomorrow. Do not flake off this assignment, or any others from me, or you'll be really hurting when grade reports come. Keep the boxes appropriate, but feel free to the boundaries a little. Be creative!"

Twenty-seven AP students pulled out their planners and pens, writing the first assignment of senior year down. The girl who was sitting behind him leaned over his shoulder. Dave could smell her citrusy perfume. It smelled delicious, and it reminded him of Blaine's shampoo.

"When did she say this was due?" She asked, sounding as if she had been asleep for these past 20 minutes of class.

"Um, tomorrow," Dave replied. He was distracted by the smell of limes and oranges enough to stutter a little. The girl sat back in her seat, then leaned forward again.

"I'm Scarlett, by the way," she whispered in his ear. She kept herself close for a second, trailing a finger down the slope of his neck as she leaned back again.

The rest of the day went by pretty quickly. Every class seemed the same- getting to know you crap, class rules, sign this-check out that… the only difference was that they were all seniors. This was the first day of their last year. They ruled this school.

Dave didn't even see Kurt until 7th hour Excelling Arts. Kurt waved at him as he walked in, and Dave said hi, refusing to meet his eyes. After last year, things weren't scary anymore- just awkward. Especially since Dave had started hanging out with Blaine. It started while Kurt was at Nationals.

It had started out innocently enough, just two guys hanging out at an under 18 sports 'bar', talking about football. Then, Blaine made sort of a move. He looked into my eyes, put a hand on my knee, and said 'It's okay to come out, you know.' He leaned in, like he wanted a kiss.

I stood up. For the first time, I wasn't afraid of what I was feeling-instead, I was afraid of hurting Kurt. 'No, Blaine. I can't do- I can't… not something like this. I'm sorry."

I left, and we didn't see each other again for a long time. But about half way into June, Kurt and Blaine broke up. I wouldn't have even known if it weren't for the changed relationship statuses—the same statuses that Facebook threw into my face when they started dating, back when I liked Kurt.

I had to do some grocery shopping for my mother. It was when I made a quick turn down aisle 12 to get some snack cakes- Zebra Stripes, my favorite- when my cart smashed into Blaine's. 'Oh! Hey… how's… how are you doing since the… since you and Kurt… how are you?' I awkwardly asked. How do you talk to someone about their breakup?

'I'm doing well. Hey. Do you wanna come over for a bit? I'm not doing anything, and I have a pool!' I remember the way Blaine had smiled as he said it, as if the pool was some secret he was letting me in on. I went with him, never finishing the shopping. Mother had screamed at me for over an hour when I got home, but in the end, it was worth it.