The sun was absolutely blinding as the minivan pulled into the parking lot; the playground was swarming with children and parents and even a few dogs tethered in the shade by the benches. The small boy in the van had his immaculate hands pressed up against the fingerprint-streaked window, his clear blue eyes roving across the landscape.
"Are they all here for me?" he asked in a reverent voice, and his mother laughed from the front seat.
"Some of them are," she said in a voice that was just like music, only without a tune. The boy loved his mother's voice, and he hoped one day he would speak just like her. "Do you see the kids over by the picnic tables?"
The boy looked past the playground to the covered dining area-a few tables on the end were decorated in balloons and plastic table cloths. There were a few parents milling around, holding gifts in shiny paper.
"Ready to go?" his mother asked in her musical voice as she pulled open the sliding door. "Burt, grab the bags," she added to her husband.
It was Kurt Hummel's seventh birthday, and he was very excited. As soon as his light-up-sneaker-clad feet touched the hot pavement, he took off running, ignoring his mother, who was calling him back for a layer of sunscreen.
He trotted up the the picnic pavilion, past the parents, and sat on his knees at one of the tables, hands folded in front of him and an expectant look on his face.
"Hold your horses, ya silly goose," his mother said, leading his father up to the pavilion. "You need to wait so I can put sunscreen on you."
"But I couldn't wait, Mama!" Kurt explained matter-of-factly. "I was ready to go!"
His mother laughed. "Well you're going to have to wait just a minute more," she said, gently smearing sunscreen onto his pale cheeks. "You have plenty of time to play before cake and presents."
"Okay!" Kurt said, squirming out of his mother's grasp and taking off for the playground.
Kurt made his way over to the jungle gym, where a group of boys were jumping and shouting. A few of his friends were among them, so he though it was okay to join.
"Hi Joey," he said to the nearest boy, who turned his dirt-streaked face to him.
"Hi Kurt," the boy said, fidgeting as if anxious to get back in the game. "Happy birthday!"
"Thank you," Kurt said politely. "What are you playing?"
"Guns and robbers!" a boy screamed as he flew by.
"We're playing guns and robbers," Joey explained.
"Oh," Kurt said. "How do you play?"
"Well you make a gun with your hand like this," Joey said, demonstrating. "And then you run around and rob places!"
Kurt wrinkled his nose. "But robbing is bad!"
"It's fun!" another boy insisted, walking up to them.
"Can't we play something else?" Kurt said, and few of the boys nearest them stopped playing to listen.
"Like what?"
Kurt shrugged. "I don't know," he said. "We could have a tea party!"
"No way," one of the bigger boys said. "That's for girls!"
The other boys tittered.
"Yeah Kurt," Joey said. "That's for girls."
"Maybe you should go play with them!"
Kurt frowned, his eyes stinging a little. "Fine!" he said, and turned away.
"Don't be such a baby!" the bigger boy shouted after him.
"Why do you have to be so mean?" Joey snapped at the boy, but Kurt didn't look back. Instead he walked over to the slide, where a few girls were playing.
"Okay, now I'm the princess!" the one standing on top of the slide was saying. "And you guys are my loyal subjects!"
"Why do you get to be the princess again, Rachel?" one of the girls complained. "That's not fair!" a blond girl was saying, and the rest nodded in agreement.
"Hi," Kurt said. "What are you guys playing?"
None of them answered for a moment, then Rachel answered, "Your name is Kurt, right?"
Kurt nodded. "And you're Rachel. You're in the class across from mine."
Rachel nodded.
"What are you playing?" Kurt asked again, and Rachel opened her mouth to answer, but the blond girl interrupted her, hands on her hips.
"We're playing princesses," she said. "No princes allowed!"
Kurt frowned again. Why was everyone being so mean to him on his birthday?
"I think we should let him play," Rachel said timidly.
"No!" the blond girl shouted. "He's not a princess!"
"But I can pretend!" Kurt cried. "I like to pretend! Sometimes I pretend to be Princess Ariel."
"No boys allowed," the girl insisted. "Now it's my turn to be the princess!" she said as she scrambled to the top of the ladder. Rachel shrugged as she slid her way down, and Kurt was once more rejected.
"Hmph!" he said, turning on his heel and pretending to walk away with dignity, trying to hide the tears in his eyes. The only place left to play was the deserted sandbox, so that's where Kurt headed.
He sat on the edge, his chin in the palm of one hand as he drew shapes in the sand at his feet. He was sniffing and wiping his eyes, willing the sad and hurt feelings to go away, but it was hard. Kids always treated him different, and he didn't know why. His mom said it was because he was special, and that the other kids were jealous, and that Kurt was absolutely perfect the way he was. And even though the other kids were still mean, it was hard not to believe his mother's pretty voice.
Suddenly, the sand in front of Kurt was eclipsed by a shadow. He turned his head to see a small boy with curly dark hair standing in front of him, his mouth stained blue by the Popsicle clasped in his hand. "Hi," he said, climbing into the sandbox and sitting next to Kurt on the edge.
"Hi," Kurt said.
"I'm Blaine," the boy said, and Kurt took a moment to notice how perfect the boys eyes were. They were very pretty, brown and green at the same time. It was a moment before Kurt noticed the boy was holding out his hand (but not the one with the Popsicle).
"I'm Kurt," Kurt said, feeling himself blush a little. Blaine's hands were soft and clean, not like the other boys Kurt knew, who usually had Cheeto dust or dirt under their nails.
"Nice to meet you, Kurt," Blaine said, letting go of his hand. Kurt realized as soon as his name left the boy's mouth that Blaine had a musical voice too, just like his mother. And as soon as Blaine said his name, Kurt felt a strong desire to hear him say it again. "You have pretty eyes."
"What?" Kurt said, blinking his eyes in alarm. "I do?"
"Yeah," Blaine said, sucking his Popsicle. "They're pretty and blue. Like the sky, or the ocean. You have pretty hands too. They're soft."
Kurt looked down at his hands with his pretty ocean eyes. No one had ever told him his anything was pretty before, except his mom and his dad.
"Thanks," Kurt said, feeling his cheeks grow even warmer. "You have pretty eyes too."
"Thanks!" Blaine said, grinning widely. "Do you want a Popsicle?"
"Sure," Kurt said, and Blaine stood up, offering his hand again. Kurt stared at it for a second before grabbing it. It felt sure in his hand as Blaine lead him over to the benches, where a woman with dark curly hair just like Blaine's-only longer-was sitting and chatting with another mom.
"Hi Mom," Blaine said, letting go of Kurt's hand and crouching by a blue bag with a zipper.
"Hi Blaine," the woman said. "Who's your friend?"
"This is Kurt," Blaine said, holding his now-finished Popsicle stick out of the corner of his mouth as he fished through the bag for another one. "He has soft hands, and he said I have pretty eyes."
Blaine's mom looked at Kurt with a warm smile. "It's very nice to meet you, Kurt," she said. "Where are your parents?"
"Over there," Kurt said, pointing to the picnic pavilion.
"Oh, are you here for a party?"
"Oh yeah!" Kurt exclaimed, suddenly remembering. "It's my birthday!"
"Well!" Blaine's mom said. "Happy birthday!"
"Thank you," Kurt said as Blaine stood up.
"Do you want red or purple?"
Kurt thought for a moment. His favorite color was red, so he chose the red one. Blaine handed it to his mom to unwrap.
"Blaine, did you tell Kurt happy birthday?" she said as she handed it back to Kurt.
"Happy birthday!" Blaine said.
"Thank you!" Kurt said, licking his Popsicle. "Do you want to come to my party?"
"Sure! Mom, can I go to Kurt's party?"
Blaine's mom laughed. "Of course you can."
"Come on Kurt, let's go play!" Blaine shrieked, suddenly hyper from his Popsicle.
The boys ended up back at the sandbox.
"What do you want to play?" Kurt asked wearily, waiting for his new friend to say 'guns and robbers'.
"I dunno," Blaine said, kicking his shoes off and digging his feet into the warm sand.
"Why'd you take your shoes off?"
"Because it feels good!" Blaine exclaimed, wiggling his toes. "Like being at the beach, only without the ocean." Kurt stared at him. "Haven't you ever been to the beach before?"
Kurt shook his head and Blaine's jaw dropped.
"No way! Maybe next time we go you can come with us!"
Kurt smiled and nodded eagerly.
They were quiet for a minute as Kurt ate a little more of his Popsicle.
"So what do you want to play?" Blaine asked.
"Um...I don't know," Kurt said. Would Blaine play pretend? Kurt was about to ask when suddenly he heard his Mom calling him.
"Kurt, come on!" she said. "It's time for cake!" Kurt saw his 'friends' run from the playground towards the pavilion.
"Come on, Blaine, let's go!" Kurt said, and this time he was the one to hold out his hand to Blaine.
Blaine took it without hesitation.