Wednesday

As I opened the door that connected the boy's locker room to the gym, yelling met my ears.

Someone yelled "—little boy who can't handle how extraordinarily ordinary you are!"

And then there was almost absolute silence except for maybe the sound of heavy breathing, but I couldn't really put my finger on it. As I looked around the row of lockers in front of me, I clasped my hands to my mouth to keep from making a sound. At first I didn't understand what was happening- it happened so fast. But then I realized what I was witnessing. Karofsky was kissing Kurt Hummel. Kissing. I whipped my head back around the lockers and sought a place to hide in case Kurt or Dave had seen me. I heard a loud pound on the metal of the lockers and clenched my eyes shut in reaction. Soon after I heard the sound of the outside hall fade in and out—one of them had left the locker room. Then there was just me and the sound of whimpering… That at least meant it probably wasn't Karofsky still in the locker room. As I felt my heart start to slow down, I heard the click clack of Kurt's shoes and the tell-tale fading of the hallway again. I was alone, and what I had seen finally caught up to me.

The image of Karofsky and Kurt kissing rushed through my adrenaline and seared itself into my mind. Were Karofsky's hands on Kurt's face? Wait, Karofsky was kissing Kurt? Isn't that what his hands being on Kurt's face meant? Oh wow.

I heard the bell ring and shook myself out of my stupor. I needed to get to class. I exited the locker room and headed down the hall towards my English class. On my way I passed Kurt in the halls. He was crying to himself. I thought about saying something, but I couldn't. In a way, Kurt had saved me. His coming out was the best thing for me—ever since he had, Karofsky had laid off of me. I felt I owed Kurt something, but the price of associating myself with him at this point was too high for me. I wish I was braver, I really do, but I don't think people understood (okay, maybe some of the Gleeks did) how horrible Karofsky could be. He had poured nacho cheese sauce in my gym locker one day. Another time, he had tackled me in football in gym class—during a game of flag football.

I turned into my class and received the usual chiding for being late to English. I was tardy almost every day. I didn't like changing with the others. I was tall, lanky, pale and redheaded. On the first day of school, we had had to shower in the locker rooms, and most of the boys in my class still call me firecrotch. I walked down the aisle to the back of the class and felt my heart try to claw its way out of my throat as I remembered who sat diagonally in front of me in English class—Karofsky.

He didn't look happy. Usually I would attribute it to the fact that it was English class. But today I knew better. As I passed his desk I tripped over something and was barely able to catch myself on my desk. I looked down to see Karofsky's foot holding mine down.

"Watch where you're stepping, firecrotch," Karofsky muttered under his breath.

An image of me telling everyone in class about Karofsky and Kurt's locker room experiment flashed before me, but then it was replaced by me lying in the back of an ambulance while Dave rubbed his sore knuckles. I held my tongue. I sat at my desk and pulled out my binder. The rest of class went by uneventfully. In fact, the rest of the day went by just like any other day. Well, except I still had the image of Kurt and Karofsky in my head.

After school even went normally. I stopped off in the counselor's office to meet my newest peer tutoring student. I tutored through the school for English. I got my form, but written in the 'Notes' section, CANCELLED was written in the desk-worker's hand. I smiled at my newfound freedom for the rest of the day.

The next few weeks passed normally. But I found out that Karofsky had been expelled. That, and I thought I kind of started liking Karofsky. Which was surprising. I mean, I knew I liked guys—that wasn't new, but… Karofsky? He had been the bane of my school existence for the entire year. He had locked me in a port-a-potty, put nacho cheese sauce in my locker, pushed, shoved, made fun of me… so why was starting to miss him?

TUESDAY

It wasn't long before things got complicated. I got to school one morning and there was talk about Karofsky being back. I initially blew it off as high school gossip, but then I saw him in Figgins' office. My heart tried the whole exit-through-throat thing again, but I managed to choke it down. When I got to English class, Dave wasn't in his seat. I felt relieved and sad at the same time. I hated myself for feeling sad, but part of me couldn't help it. As I went through English class, I noticed I had been doodling a lot lately. Cursive and calligraphic K's filled the margins of a lot of my notes. Oh crap, had I been daydreaming about Karofsky? My name's Cory…. With a C. Then I found a doodle of a letterman jacket. Oh crap. Crapcrapcrap. I flipped through my notes enough times that the teacher called on me. I gave the right answer, but I could tell she wasn't happy. After class I headed to the counselor's office to see if I had gotten any new tutoring assignments. I went to my little box on the wall and saw a piece of paper there. I picked it up, scanned it, and rushed out of the office without greeting the desk worker.

I read it over and over on the bus ride home.

Name: _KAROFSKY, DAVID H._

Year: _JUNIOR_

Class: _ENGLISH_

Notes: _MR. KAROFSKY NEEDS TO BE CAUGHT UP ON THE PAST WEEK OF SCHOOL ASSIGNMENTS IN HIS ENGLISH CLASS. HE WILL NEED TO MAKE UP ALL WORK, AND BRING HIS GRADE UP TO A "B" AVERAGE BEFORE HE WILL BE ABLE TO OPT-OUT OF PEER TUTORING.

On the back side of the paper was a hand-written note in the counselor's cursive:

Cory, I've decided you're the best for this student- you share an English class and Mr. Karofsky did not request a specific tutor. Given his record, please don't hesitate to let me know if you don't feel comfortable.

The bus ride didn't last long enough. I would be alone in a room with Dave for an extra hour every Monday and Wednesday. My mind started racing all over the place. The image of him and Kurt kissing, of me in the back of an ambulance, and so many others rushed into my head. Then an image of Karofsky in his boxers, changing in the locker room came by. I dwelt on it for a minute, I'll admit. I felt myself getting hard and shook the thought from my head before anything happened that would make the walk home awkward.

WEDNESDAY

The next day went by painfully slow, my stomach in a knot all day—it was Wednesday. My first tutoring appointment with Dave would happen right after class. I walked into English and Dave was there at his desk. I trod carefully around his desk, but he didn't try anything. In fact, I think I might have seen a smile on his face. That was new. Dave and English class were like water and oil. I think one time I heard him ask how to spell the word loser, and I think he was serious.

After class I headed towards the counseling office, all the while hearing Karofsky's heavy footprints behind me. I felt sweat start to gather on my forehead. I hadn't turned down the tutoring opportunity—as scared as I was, I wanted to spend time with Karofsky. I felt crazy. I was crazy. But, it was too late to turn back now. I turned into the office and, after greeting the desk worker, went down the hallway in the office to the small office that they had us tutor in. Three tutors usually shared an office, but this year the number of volunteers for peer tutoring had gone down, so this "office" was mine. I heard Dave's voice at the front desk, then the murmur of the office worker's reply, and then the heavy footsteps again. I sat down at the table set up in the middle of the room quickly. Dave walked in and threw his bag on the ground.

He was wearing his letterman jacket, a grey McKinley High t-shirt, and jeans. He looked at me with a bored expression and I tried to respond with a smile that didn't reflect how I felt inside.

"Hi, Dave," I said, trying to sound amiable.

"Do I really have to stay here for an hour?"

"Well, if you ever want to get off academic probation," I said without thinking.

Anger flashed through Karofsky's eyes, and I stepped back a little just in case.

"I'm not stupid," Dave said with near-clenched teeth.

"Tutoring isn't about being stupid or smart- it's about getting your grades up," I recited from our "Peer Tutor's Handbook."

Dave retorted with a snort and a blank stare.

I sat down and pulled out my binder to begin. "So, where were we in English when you, uh… left?"

"How the hell am I supposed to know?" Dave asked belligerently.

"Right. Well, you were gone, what, two weeks? We can start with those lessons. But first, is there anything from earlier this year you want to review or work on?"

I received another glare. I think it was the glare somewhere between Karofsky saying "I'll kill you," and him actually doing it.

I tried to keep smiling, but then I noticed his hands. Dave was sitting back, leaning his chair back, one hand hanging between his thighs and the other helping him balance by gripping the table. The hand on the table just seemed massive. All of Karofsky seemed massive. Having been in Gym with him once before, I knew how muscular he was. The other hand wasn't really the focus of my next glance. Rather, Dave had an apparent bulge. His jeans swelled slightly over his crotch. Before I was caught, I looked back to my binder and asked him to get his out.

The session went like most first sessions did. Dave thought I thought he was stupid, I tried to ensure him I didn't. I'll admit, Dave was the first student I'd ever been assigned that I had a hard time focusing with. Usually tutoring was just something I did to help kids and get community service time that would look good on college apps. But after the past few weeks, and thinking about Dave as much as I had, I was a little scared. I was afraid that somehow Karofsky would find out that I had seen him and Kurt. Or that I would somehow let it slip.

Over the next few weeks things got interesting. Kurt left school. Everyone was worried. Not for Kurt's sake—for ours. Kurt had taken the brunt of the jokes and beatings for the last few weeks, and without him at school, Karofsky's wrath widened again. Karofsky threw me in the trash one day. In the halls, I had my phone slapped out of my hand, got pushed by him and Ezimio, and one time found a poster of my face Photoshopped onto a picture of a girl plastered onto my locker. I had to ask the janitor to remove the rubber cement.

MONDAY

I entered my tutoring room and waited for Karofsky to show up. I had tried not to let his bullying affect how I tutored him. Then he came in. He had the same glare on his face, and threw his bag on the ground in the normal spot. He sat down and reclined the chair like he did in every session, legs somewhat spread. I noticed a slight hole in the crotch of his jeans, revealing white boxers or boxer briefs. I ripped my eyes away and started going over where we had left off last time.

"Does that sound right?"

"Huh?" Dave asked.

"You know, Karofsky, I can't really help you bring your grades up if you're just gonna sit there and scratch your balls every session. I haven't reported anything so far, but don't make m—."

I shut my mouth as Karofsky leaned forward and clenched his fists. I looked down to his hands and gaped at the meat hammers. "Yeah, you gonna tell on me, firecrotch?"

"Oh, really, you're threatening me?" I asked sarcastically. I didn't really care whether he would beat me up at this point. I realized that I was mad at Dave. Mad that he'd bullied me. Mad that he'd made a joke of my tutoring him. Mad that he hadn't noticed me. Mad that he'd kissed Kurt and not me. Mad that I wanted to hate him but couldn't.

"Don't push me, firecrotch," Dave said.

"Why do you call me firecrotch, Tubby? Is it because you stare at my crotch all the time?" I yelled back.

Karofsky pounded the table and I couldn't help but withdraw a little.

"Or do you just look at Kurt's?" I felt my eyes widen as the words came out of my mouth. I put my hands to my mouth as if trying to recapture the words before they could reach Dave's ears.

Dave stood frozen, red-faced and, thankfully, stunned. Then the door to the room opened and Ms. Pilsbury, the school counselor, popped her head in.

"Is everything all right in here, boys?"

Dave stood silent, shaking slightly as I tried to find words.

"Um, yes, we were just practicing… King Henry"

"Oh, well, convincing job."

I smiled at her, trying to hide my nervousness. Dave turned at that, managing a smile.

Ms. Pilsbury turned and closed the door behind her. I stayed on my feet, ready for Karofsky to lunge at me. All he did was put his binder back in his backpack and leave.