So here's another update :) Thanks to everyone whose read this so far and for those of you who have added it to their alerts. And without much further ado, here's the next chapter.
Seven years later
I fold up the small piece of paper carefully before slipping it between one of the cracks that wasn't already full in the wall. This was a lower wall note, something of unimportance that Mum shouldn't feel the need to look at as the information holds no urgency. Just a simple recap of my day so far, and to be fair, there isn't much room for excitement yet considering it's morning and I still haven't been to school. It's after school that the notes will raise from lower wall to upper wall.
You see, each note that I write has its own respective place. If the information is that of inconsequence, the note will be placed in the lower cracks of the wall. And if the tale I am retelling is of a more urgent matter, it will be placed higher.
Only one note has ever reached the top of the wall though, and that was the day after my mother died. I still believe however, that I can connect with her here. It's the one place I feel closest to her, but voicing my thoughts seems derivative in comparison to the written word. If I were to speak my problems aloud, I would taint the memories I treasure most dearly of my mother and I talking here. Yes, the notes are a suitable alternative.
Unfortunately, due to events taking place at school, upper wall is becoming more and more crowded.
It's not what you think though. Circumstance would suggest that I'm the victim of social harassment. That can't be further from the truth. If I'm a victim of anything, it's social isolation. Perhaps it's my fault for going down the path of 'wallflower' upon entering high school, I honestly don't mind though. I'd much rather observe than partake in the social aspect of teenage life. And from what I've observed so far, I'm very happy I've chosen this route. The kids in McKinley are cut throat and are all too aware of the importance of social hierarchy.
In regards to social stature, I agree with John Mayer, 'High School is like a spork: it's a crappy spoon and a crappy fork, so in the end it's just plain useless.' I mean, why should I play nice with these people, whose only concern is how many friends they have acquired over the years. It's nonsense.
I've told Mum this many times in the past few years, I'm sure she would agree with me to; Dad says I'm more like her every day.
I glance down at my watch and sigh, time to leave for school. I stand up grudgingly and pat the top stone on the wall as I do every time I leave. The words have eroded slightly over the years but not so much that you couldn't make them out.
'Nightmare busters', I internally scoff as I retreat from the wall. If anything, since the walls completion the nightmares have increased. Although I must admit, I know longer witness a multitude of different creatures roaming through the back garden. Mostly, it's just my imagination conjuring up scenarios of my mother's death. Some are ridiculous yet some are frighteningly real.
After every one of those nightmares I'll come down to the wall, regardless of the designer nightwear, I'll still sit in in my regular spot with a pen and paper in hand, ready to tell Mum about the dream knowing that if she were alive, she would have found me and comforted me.
As I walk through the backdoor I catch a glance of Dad at the kitchen table, he smiles at me around a mouth full of food and gestures for me to join him at the table.
"Big day," he begins gruffly, shoving a plate in my direction.
"Hardly, first day backs are like any other day of the school year," I reach for the toast and opt out of using butter knowing fine well Dad will have purchased the fully salted kind. Sometimes I think he does it as an act of defiance against the doctors. The Jokes on him though because since I got my driver's license, I'll be doing the shopping meaning no more unhealthy foods for him.
"Perhaps," he says, "but this is your last year of high school, that's a pretty big deal," I roll my eyes at him.
"And I am so very thankful of that but I see no reason to be overly excited about it," I grumble, throwing down a crust.
"Hey, maybe you could even talk to some people this year. Make some new friends…"
I laugh slightly before mumbling a, "thanks but no thanks." He nods as if expecting that answer and I can just hear his brain racking at another thing to say.
"Well, look at it this way then, one step closer to fashion…school or whatever," I laugh at his attempt before sighing wistfully. Well, that is true, one less day to wait until New York.
"I don't even know if I got in yet."
"Oh you have, you've worked your ass of for this and no one deserves it more than you," I sit back, shocked a little at the passion in his voice. Mum was always the person I would talk to about fashion or music, everything that Dad didn't really show an interest in. Hell, the day I came out to him had to be one of the hardest things for him to accept about me.
I could feel my eyes water, "thanks, Dad."
Classic Dad made an appearance after that heart felt statement however, as he got to his feet and grumbled out an 'it's true.' I smiled at that, some things never change and emotions just aren't his domain.
I finished of the toast and then walked over to the hall mirror, making sure nothing was out of place. Even if I am just going to school, I always do my best to look amazing; that was another thing Mum taught me and I was not letting that skill go to waste.
I adjusted my brooches one last time before shooting a final look out the back window to the wall.
+BREAK+
When I arrived at school I couldn't help but feel a little happy. Although not my favourite place in the world, the building is a never changing constant in my life. The geeks are the same, the jocks are the same, and even the teachers are the same.
I guess that's something to be thankful for.
Fortunately for me, I chose not to partake in that which is the social ladder of high school. I don't even think I make the ladder. If anything, I'm the guy the ladder sits on. Yeah, that's me, Kurt the introvert.
As I walk to class, I can't help but notice that everyone is abuzz over the same thing. This results in a sigh as I know that only one thing could possibly temporarily unite them like this: a new student.
I tug my books closer to myself as the halls become more crowed and brace myself for the onslaught of shoves and pushes.
"That's fine, no really I'm not even here," I mumble to myself before I suddenly feel someone bang into my side hard enough that my arms stretch out preparing for the harsh fall to the ground.
I expected no one to pay attention to me, they all even had the audacity to just step over my twisted legs. What I didn't expect however was a wide eyed guy to stare at the scene in front of him. Odd, they normally walk on after I fall.
"I am so, so sorry," he stutters out, quickly going to stack my books back into a pile. Odd again, not only do the culprits never acknowledge me but they never, ever apologise.
I stare at him blankly for a second, a foreigner to this new social interaction.
"Oh god, you've got a concussion or something, don't you. I swear, I am so sorry. I was just walking and then this guy fell into me and I fell into you and I'm just…ugh I'm-" I continue to stare at him and manage to put two and two together; this must be the new kid. Ah, now the universe makes sense again. I slowly get to my feet and when I've got my sense of vertigo back I can't help but appreciate how good looking this guy is.
He's got short, dark curly hair that he is currently running his hands through at a speed that would surely result in imminent hair loss. Then my eyes fall to his face which maintains the chiseled cheekbones one would find desirable, but also a softness due to the crinkles around his eyes. His skin is of a tanned colour but that combined with his dark, almost black hair would suggest that it is a feature passed down from his heritage. Then I assess his build which isn't bulky but more lean, although he clearly does have more than his fair share of upper arm muscles, an image that I just know will remain in my mind all day. His dress sense on the other hand leaves something to be desired but hey, he had to have at least one imperfection.
I realise then that I've been starting at him for at least five minutes and he's still apologising profusely, "It's my first day and I'm just a little nervous you know? But this was the last thing I wanted to do…."
Choosing now to speak, I hazard a smile before rubbing the arm I fell on subtly, ok that actually did really hurt.
"I'm fine, really. Don't worry about it," I go to pick up my books but he's already one step ahead and before I know it he's placing them in my arms.
"My name's Blaine," he states, still running one hand through his hair and I notice my hand twitch, yeah so I really want to touch his hair now. Maybe ask what shampoo he uses…
I'm staring again, "oh, um I'm Kurt." The last time I introduced myself in a high school setting like this was to a girl called Mercedes and much to her dismay, I haven't really engaged in any other form of conversation with her.
"Well Kurt, please let me walk you to class as it's the least I can do," he smiles, snatching the books back out my hand.
I smile back, amused at the fact that he had no idea where anything is yet, "yeah sure, I've got science if you just want to lead the way…"
His smile falters slightly but it doesn't take long before it's back, "that's no problem. I'll just walk with you as you walk to class then; I've got science as well actually so that's perfect." He's like a puppy I swear.
"May I have my books back?" I ask, already knowing the answer.
"Nope," he grins and then I'm leading him to class.
"Wait, so really I'm just walking you to class," I laugh as we navigate our way to the science department; the hallways are emptying as people disappear into classrooms so I let myself relax a little.
"Funny how everything works out in the end, " he smiles back and if it weren't for the way I was consciously trying to place one foot in front of the other I would have stopped because his smile had to be the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.
No, Kurt, it's your last year. The last thing you want to do is doom the new kid into unpopularity because he talked to the pariah.
I look away, not wanting to think about how ridiculously gorgeous and charming he is.
We walk the rest of the way in silence and once we reach our lab I don't hesitate to mumble out a 'thanks' as I take my books from him before we enter and then quickly rush to my table. One reason I like this class is that I work with no one, another year of solitude.
Blaine watches me from the front of the class, confused at my actions. I choose then to get my work out and then the window grows increasingly interesting as it's the only place in the classroom where I can look without seeing Blaine in the peripheral of my vision.
"Okay kids, this is a new student; Blaine Anderson. Make him feel welcome," Mr Larson drawls and I can hear him sifting through the famous mountain of paper on his desk. Not a day goes by where he doesn't swear he'll tidy it but we know as much as he does that it'll never happen.
"Right Blaine, I'm putting you next to Kurt. Kurt raise your hand will you," I audibly groan at this turn of events and some people snigger at Blaine's placement. Grudgingly I lift my arm even though I know Blaine already knows who I am.
"Tough break, new kid" someone says from the front of the class and I roll my eyes. Blaine, ever the confused new comer, makes his way to my station.
I suppose one smile can't do any harm.
He grins back, all evidence of worry leaving his face and in that moment I know I'm a goner.
Shit.
We don't interact much till the end of the lesson and Mr Larson has already issued several deadlines for projects.
"So," he begins, "your house or mine for the project?"
I internally groan knowing that interacting with Blaine is unavoidable at this point, "I really don't mind."
"Um, we can alternate. I know the deadline isn't for a few months but I like to get things like this out of the way…" he trails of. I nod in agreement.
"Well my house is out past the fields and it takes a while to get there so maybe instead, on my days we could just go to the library or something?"
"Yeah that's fine. Oh, before I forget," he says as he pulls a piece of paper and a pen out of his bag, "here's my number, just text me when you want to get started." And with that and a final smile, he's out the room and of to his next class.
This is really happening.
+BREAK+
I try to maintain a distance from Blaine for the rest of the school day, not wanting to compromise his position on the high school food chain just yet. It's not till lunch however that I realise just how much I'll have to distance myself from him.
There he was, handsome as ever, sitting at the jock table.
Of course.
Bit of a cliffhanger but hope your liked it.
Please, if you have the time, leave a review - to boost moral and what not :)
Oh, and I apologise if there are any mistakes. I've not got a beta as of yet (if anyones up for it though, please message me. )