Chapter One Kickoff

A kickoff is used at the start of the first and third quarters

In some respects everything was different and yet, in Kurt Hummel's opinion (humble or not so humble - depending entirely on his mood) nothing had changed at all. The school gymnasium still looked exactly the same as it had when he'd had to enter it as a naive freshman, over a decade ago. Despite the fact that it was a brand new academic year, Kurt noted the tired and old, dog-eared posters, which still declared McKinley's Titans to be "simply the best!" Faded posters which still exhorted the athletes to "Go, Fight, Win!" and which still announced, somewhat triumphantly, that "Titans have the power!" clung in desperate hope to their allotted positions along the back wall between the two sets of metal double swing doors.

As he made his way, somewhat reluctantly, together with the other members of the faculty, towards a row of wooden-backed chairs placed directly in front of the first row of the western bleachers, he noted that the McKinley logo painted onto the wooden floors appeared to have enjoyed a recent renovation.

Coach Beiste would be pleased, he thought to himself.

The feisty coach, in charge when he had been a student, had fought hard for the renovation of the classical Greek warrior - complete with muscled arm and daring trident, but budget cuts during Principal Figgins' reign had all but put paid to that particular request. Now though, the strong colours of the black and white mythical god on the floor contrasted boldly with the vibrant red 'M' in the centre of his shield.

As Kurt took his place beside one of the few teachers whose face he could vaguely remember from his schooldays – a rather tall, severe-looking woman with an unfortunate haircut, sharp facial features and uncanny ability to look down on absolutely everyone through the reading glasses which perched precariously on the tip of her nose - he glanced up into the stands where the student body was wrestling for comfortable seats for this first assembly of the year. His eyes strayed upward to where a large bolt of thick black fabric in the shape of a shield and trimmed neatly with gold tassels hung, seemingly effortlessly, against the wall.

His breath catching slightly in his throat, quickly but determinedly, Kurt's eyes raced down the gold embroidered digits seeking out the year 2012 and then, slower now, they sought out the letters running on the same line naming Finn Hudson as the captain of the football team. For a moment, Kurt's eyes began to water and he swallowed forcibly but, fortunately, before he could lose his composure altogether, the microphone screeched for everyone's attention.

"You'd think after all these years someone would have figured out how to use that microphone without the feedback deafening us all," complained the woman next to him with a tight grimace.

Mrs Dusenberry!

His brain finally supplied a name and a fleeting memory of her being quite astonished with the hug Kurt had awarded her when Puck finally passed her exam and, therefore, was allowed to graduate with the rest of them.

Kurt wiped his eyes surreptitiously with the back of his hand balled into fists and nodded in agreement with her as the principal, Mr Williams, called the assembly to order. The student body declared their allegiance to the flag which was still mounted in all its glory along the eastern wall of the gym directly opposite, and in apparent competition with, the larger McKinley Titans banner.

While the students muttered on about "one nation under God", Kurt found himself caught in a bizarre time warp. The discordant sounds of mumbling students around him faded to nothing and he was left alone, on the gym floor, standing squarely on the school logo, on the large M to be exact, dressed in a demure grey suit having just divested himself of a unicorn-like hat complete with pink fluffy tail. Dimly he recalled snatches of his 2012 candidate speech for Senior Class President.

"I refuse to be bullied. In fact, I refuse to let anyone be bullied. Let's send a strong message that violence isn't okay."

There was something else in that speech about banning dodge ball but Kurt couldn't be too sure of his recollections all these years later. What he did remember was that after his speech, Rachel Berry had withdrawn her candidacy and, instead, had urged everyone to vote for him.

Rachel Berry - Kurt's arch nemesis, stalwart friend and, until a few weeks ago, New York roommate.

I'm here, Rach. Can you believe it? I'm actually back at McKinley.

"Look, Kurt, Honey; I get that you're upset but you're making this decision at a very emotional time and you are going to regret it."

Rachel paced behind Kurt as he lifted his shirts from the hanging wardrobe he shared with her and laid them out on the neatly-made bed beside his suitcase.

"I'll regret it even more if I don't go, Rachel," he replied, resolutely not meeting her eyes.

"But Carole said, explicitly, for you not to worry and that she would keep you updated throughout the night. She'll let you know as soon as he wakes up."

"Rachel – it's my dad."

Kurt stood back from the bed and surveyed the items lying there. His eyes swept his room, or rather his curtained section of their loft, for clothing he might have missed in his haste to pack immediately.

"I know, Sweetie. I really do but -"

"But, nothing! I've got to get home! Now can you please call that travel agent friend of yours and get me on the first flight back to Ohio this evening?"

"What about the show, Kurt? What are you going to do about your show? You know … the Broadway show Cameron wrote just for you because you complained that there was nothing, and I quote, 'nothing out there on the Great White Way' for your voice and range? Are you just going to bail on him … on the cast?"

"Rachel!" Kurt was stunned at her accusatory tone. "You of all people don't get to lecture me for leaving a Broadway show for a family emergency when you did it yourself just for a shot at false, glitzy Hollywood fame and we all know where that got you!"

"Yes, but I learned my lesson, Kurt, and you should learn from my mistake!" Rachel's voice was raised in righteous indignation but then she continued quieter, her voice strained with genuine concern for her friend. "If you walk out on this show – your show – chances are, Broadway might never forgive you."

For just a moment, Kurt stopped packing and looked up at her, his eyes swimming with tears as he acknowledged her concern for the first time that evening. His hand over his heart, Kurt replied softly.

"That might be so, Rachel, but if I turn my back on my dad now when he needs me the most, I know I will never forgive me."

"Kurt … it's your dream, your future. It's all you've ever wanted."

"Rachel – it's my dad."

Kurt closed the lid of his suitcase and pulled the zippers towards each other with a finality that forbade any further discussion.

"…and we welcome several new members of faculty this year."

The principal's voice, still competing with the scratching of the microphone which was providing ear-piercing feedback, brought Kurt guiltily out of his recollection of his last conversation with Rachel in their New York apartment.

One by one, the principal announced the name of each new faculty member as they, somewhat embarrassed, each, in turn, stood up and greeted the student body. Kurt was well aware that the applause given by the students was polite but laced with boredom at the formal proceedings of the assembly because there was a slight lazy edge to their clapping. If these students were anything like the student body in his time, they wanted to get to the fun part of the first assembly of the new-year – that moment when the McKinley Titans would be brought out and introduced to the student body as the heroes they supposedly were. Kurt caught the definite trace of sarcastic cynicism on the edge of that particular thought. He shook his head, willing away all negative thoughts.

No, Kurt Hummel. You are not going to let your 'jockphobia' destroy your chances of making a success of this opportunity, Kurt. Let it go!

"And finally, we are exceptionally pleased to welcome to our staff an alumnus of McKinley's class of 2012 – Mr Kurt Hummel, who is returning to teach a couple of English classes. But, more importantly, because Mr Hummel comes to us straight off the Broadway stage where he was performing in a lead role until just recently, he will be resurrecting the Glee Club which he tells me actually won Nationals in his senior year."

Kurt blushed as Mr William's gaze sought him out among the faculty and then continued to address him solely. "Mr Hummel, we also look forward to the expertise your stage background and theatre education will bring our musical this year. We are honoured by your presence."

Kurt stood up, smiled respectfully at the effusive Mr Williams and then turned around to offer a quick, perfunctory wave to the students sitting on the bleachers behind the faculty before politely acknowledging those sitting on the stands directly opposite.

"Broadway, huh? Well, welcome to this – the 9th circle of hell," muttered Mrs Dusenberry as he took his place again.

"And now …that moment you have been waiting for …"

The principal had raised his voice now and, despite fighting the incessant shrill feedback from the microphone, he seemed genuinely thrilled to be making the next announcement. Over the frenzied clapping and cheering of the student body, Principal Williams yelled once more.

"William McKinley High School, I give you … YOUR McKinley Titans!"

As one, the student body rose from their seats, their feet pounding enthusiastically on the metal bleachers. Loud music was blasted through the speakers and the lights in the gymnasium went out.