"I'm changing back," Kurt says.
Blaine is walking him to Chemistry; Blaine is actually holding his hand as they walk down the middle of the busy hallway. It thrills him, the feel of Blaine's warm, dry hand in his. It thrills him that no one even looks twice at them. They could start making out right now and all that would probably happen is that someone would stop and snap a picture on their iPhone and post the picture to Facebook with the caption "FINALLYYYYYY!"
No one at Dalton is going to push Kurt up against a locker or shove him to the ground just for being who he cannot escape being.
Kurt wants to puke.
"Okay, Cinderella. Am I supposed to guess what you're changing back into?" Blaine asks as he drops Kurt's hand to open the classroom door, always the perfect gentlemen.
"We'll talk later," Kurt promises as he ducks under Blaine's arm into Advanced Chemistry. "But I'm switching back to McKinley." He lets the door fall shut between them.
Chemistry has never made less sense.
Not surprisingly, Blaine is waiting for him after class. He pushes off the wall the second he sees Kurt.
"We don't even get to talk about this?" Blaine asks; he sounds angry. There's no hand holding this time, and Kurt mourns the loss, but it's something he's going to have to get used to. So, instead, Kurt wraps his hand around the strap of his messenger bag, hoisting it higher on his shoulder as they begin the trek back to the dormitories.
"There's nothing to talk about," he says with carefully constructed blitheness. He's vaguely aware that there are other people in the hallway, but this time he doesn't focus on them. There's something that needs to be said, and Kurt is going to have to say it before he loses his nerve. "Dad and Carole used the money for their honeymoon on my tuition, but none of us really thought ahead. We don't have the money for another year."
Blaine throws his hands in the air. "So the Warblers will raise money. We'll throw, like, a benefit—"
Kurt silences him. "I don't think even the Warblers can raise that much money, Blaine. And besides, I'm already the poor kid going to a rich school; we don't need to make it anymore glaringly obvious that I don't really fit in." Nevermind the fact that he drives a Cadillac and everyone at Dalton Academy seems to genuinely like him.
Blaine stops walking and stares at Kurt like he's seeing him for the first time. "Where is all this coming from?" he asks, sounding honest-to-goodness confused. "You always acted so happy to be here. I mean, Kurt, Jesus! We all care about you here. I care. If you go back to McKinley…" He trails off, shrugging his shoulders. "Who will care?"
Kurt doesn't explain that it's his coping mechanism. Pretending he doesn't want something so bad he can taste it is supposed to help the hurt he feels when his dream is yanked out from under his feet so fast he barely has time to say goodbye.
"I can take care of myself," Kurt says. He is so proud when his voice doesn't crack. In his room, practicing, it always cracks.
"Wait, are you… are you breaking up with me?" Blaine asks, incredulous. "Just because you're going back to McKinley doesn't mean that we have to stop seeing each other."
That's not true, Kurt wants to scream. Blaine is so nice, so sweet, so attractive; he'll be someone else's before the ink dries on the love letters that Kurt will no doubt write him every night before bed. No. It's best to nip this in the bud before it gets a chance to bloom into something that will obliterate Kurt's heart instead of just breaking it in two.
"Oh, we'll try," Kurt says, trying for the air of someone who doesn't really care. Someone who is superior to the situation. He feels a hollow burn begin inside. "We'll meet all the time at first, for coffee, lunch, just to see each other. But then one of us will break a date, and let's not sugar coat this, it will probably be you, and it will become easy to break the rest, until we barely even talk on the phone. That's our future, Blaine. That has always been our future."
You're too good for me, he wants to add. Instead, he leans in conspiratorially, ready to get this conversation over with; it's the most awful thing he's ever done and he just wants the year to be over so he can go home and bawl his eyes out in the privacy of his basement suite.
Only two more weeks.
Kurt whispers, "Just think of this as another problem you get to run away from."
Blaine turns on his heel and walks away stiffly without another word to Kurt. He doesn't even spare a last glance.
Kurt turns back the way he just came, not trusting himself to follow after Blaine. He holds his head high, mostly so that when the tears start flowing, they don't make tracks down his cheeks.
He's won here today. He broke his own heart before Blaine could break it for him. It's a bitter victory; one that Kurt will taste for a long time to come.