Chapter 2

"Oh. My. Gaga." Kurt muttered under his breath. The driver of the motorcycle seemed completely unharmed, so his attention immediately snapped to his precious car. Predictably, there was a motorcycle-shaped dent in the back. As he rushed forward to get a closer look, leaning on Mercedes for support, the driver took off his helmet. He shook out his curly, sweat dampened, dark hair like a wet dog: a movement that should have been less appealing than it actually was.

"Sorry about your car, Angel. Wasn't paying attention." He said huskily.

Kurt snorted. "Obviously not."

The other boy's eyes widened in surprise at the high pitch, malice sparkling in their honey coloured depths. "Well well well well well well well. If you aren't a walking talking stereotype, then I'm not Blaine Anderson. " He drawled.

"And if you aren't a walking, talking cliche, then I'm actually interested in knowing your name." Kurt fired back.

"Cliche? Me? How so?" Blaine was mocking him now. None the less deterred, Kurt cast his eyes up and down the boy's figure, lips pursed in a judgemental sneer.

"First of all, the motorcycle and leather jacket? So overrated. You may want to buy a white v-neck that isn't a see-through child's small, because I can see your nipples. Skinny jeans and skater shoes are so...ugh. I can't even think of anything bad enough to describe them. And you may want to invest in some gum, because stale cigarettes is NOT a good smell on anyone."

A hush fell over the parking lot; a crowd had gathered to see Anderson take down the new kid. No one had expected this odd turn of events. Anderson himself seemed to be attempting to collect his thoughts, for once his clever words failed him.

"Please tell me you boys both have insurance or something." Mercedes said hesitantly. That seemed to snap everyone out of their stupor, and the crowd dissipated. Clearly nothing exciting was going to happen now.

"I know I do. You know, in case some idiot on a motorcycle decides to ruin my car." Kurt said venomously, glaring at the other boy. Really, boy was the best term to describe him. When you looked past all the bluster and bravado, Blaine Anderson was really, really exceptionally tiny.

Blaine feigned a hurt look, but you could see the amusement playing in his eyes and tugging one corner of his mouth upwards into a crooked smile.

"Here's the card, Aretha." He said, pulling it out of his beat up wallet.

Mercedes took the nickname in stride, expression unchanging as she put his information in her phone. "Thanks. Kurt, I'll take you home. Finn said your dad is a mechanic?"

"He is." Kurt replied, totally ignoring the looks Blaine was giving him.

"Great, so that means your car can be fixed easily. Now c'mon. Lets go." Mercedes re-attached herself to his arm and dragged him over to her car.


"Blaine."

Blaine looked up from his usual after school coffee fix to see his former best friends standing in front of him, arms crossed with identical scowls.

"Wes. David. What a surprise." It really was a surprise, but they didn't have to know that. He hadn't spoken two words to the boys since he had decided that he would be better off fending for himself.

The pair sat down, David pulling up a chair to the table meant for two. Wes, usually the one to initiate conversations, looked uncomfortable, fingers twisting uselessly in his lap.

"We want to talk to you about-" He began.

"We actually don't want to talk to you." David interrupted. Wes rolled his eyes before continuing.

"About Kurt."

Blaine let out a harsh laugh. "Kurt. Right. Okay, fine. I'll play. What about him?"

"You need to apologize."

"I...wait, what?"

Wes fixed him with a stern look. "Blaine, you hit his car."

"I remember. I was there."

"God, Blaine. When did you turn into such a dickhead?" David exploded, waving his hands.

Blaine said nothing, just raised a triangular eyebrow.

"What David is trying to say," Wes cut in, putting a hand on his best friend's shoulder to calm him down, "is that it's the polite thing to do. Just...trust us, okay? Or at least me." The tall asian boy said, punctuating the end of his sentence with a nervous laugh.

"Maybe I'll think about it."

"Do that."


"So, how's Leemur, Ohio?"

Kurt laughed softly into his telephone. His best friend from New York had sent him several texts. And called. And attempted FaceTime. So, after he washed the last of the sticky slushy out of his hair-damn that is hard to get out- He called her.

"Madi, its Lima. Not 'Leemur'. Or Lame-a. Its not thats bad."

"Kurt Elizabeth Hummel don't you DARE lie to me. You miss me. You do."

"Of course. There isn't anyone near as fabulous as you here."

"Any hot guys there?"

Kurt paused for a second, debating whether or not to tell her about Blaine. He had two options: explain everything to her and endure her questions, or not and face the consequences.

"Well, there is this one guy..." He started, hoping to a God he didn't believe in that he could leave it there. But no such luck. He could practically see her, pulling herself up into a sitting position, getting ready for a good story.

"Spill it, Hummel." She commanded.

"His name is Blaine. Blaine Anderson."

"Blaine? Wait. Isn't that a major appliance? How very Pretty in Pink."

"You're so witty. Do you want to hear about him or not?"

"Yes! Keep talking."

"He rides a motorcycle and he's about 5'4 and hit my Navigator." He braced himself for the explosion.

"HE HIT NANCY? WHAT! NO. NOT OKAY."

Kurt smiled. He missed his friend's antics, more than he cared to admit.

"Sweetie, I gotta go. But we WILL talk more about this tomorrow." She sighed.

"Deal. Goodnight, Madison."

"Night, Kurt."


A/N Oh. My. Gaga. YOU GUYS! I was SO not expecting this sort of a response! I promise to haul ass and get the next chapter up soon. I am so grateful for every one of you. EVERY. LAST. ONE. And a very special thank you to all of you who reviewed! I just wanna hug all of you. Oh, and I hope you don't mind me inserting an OC. Well, sorta. She's based on the Batman to my Robin, so enjoy her :]. Sorry for the shortness. I think its better to have short chapters more often than long chapters far apart. As soon as I get out of school I'll write nice long ones for you guys. And some sexytimes. See you later!

Disclaimer: I own nothing that you recongnize.