Rachel looked over her cup of coffee with a slight frown. When she decided to spy—rather, to inform herself about the current happenings at Carmel, she never expected once to end up in the Lima Bean with David Karofsky. Ignoring his mutters of "I hate this place," Rachel led him to a small table in the corner where they could speak freely with little chance of being overheard. After both of them got their drinks, they sat awkwardly for a minute or two, sipping at their beverages and offering halfhearted smiles at the other. Finally, Rachel spoke up.

"So, you're gay."

Karofsky grimaced, "You don't waste time, do you?" Sighing a bit, he added, "But yeah, something like that."

"And you bullied Kurt because he was gay."

Any chance of David maintaining eye contact had been ruined. Contemplating the intricacies of his disposable coffee lid, he answered slowly. "...yeah."

"And you did the whole Bully Whip thing to-"

"Look, is this going to be an interrogation? 'Cause I've had enough with the pointed questions for one day. If you want to hear my story and my apology, then you're going to have to be quiet for a moment and let me do the talking, Berry."

Rachel glared at the ex-bully with righteous indignation. How dare he tell her what to do? Especially when he was the one in the wrong all those years! And it wasn't an interrogation—Rachel was helping David come to terms with a very difficult situation. Couldn't he see that?

"Fine," she huffed, "I'm listening."

David hesitated for a moment before starting his story, keeping his voice barely audible the whole time.

"So, um, I've known I'm—that I like guys—probably longer than I'd like to admit. I mean, being an athlete requires being in a locker room, and when Puck and the guys started talking about big boobs and MILFs and stuff, I just nodded along. I wasn't really as excited about some neighbor girl Puck had seen undressing—I mean, isn't that like an invasion of privacy? This was still junior high, where I was pretty quiet, so I chocked everything up to morality. Of course I didn't like these stories, I thought, they're really degrading."

Rachel offered a slight grin, thinking of her father's own coming out story, one that she and her dad had heard countless times. Karofsky swallowed, taking a moment before he continued.

"But it wasn't morality at all, as I soon found out again in the locker room. When I started, y'know, changing, I couldn't help but steal a couple of glances in the showers. I mean, there I was, naked in a room full of guys—you're bound to see something accidentally every once in a while, right? But, uh, I didn't really want to admit it wasn't always by accident. And when it wasn't—it was purely for informational purposes, you know, seeing how I'm... uh... developing?"

Karofsky chuckled for a moment, daring to meet Rachel's eyes. She hadn't really been expecting this much detail, but who knows how many chances David had been given to tell this story. His story. For all she knew, she could be the very first person he told this to, which made it a Very Important Story, with capital letters for emphasis.

"It's kind of stupid, all the excuses I made back then. Even when I had my first... uh... nocturnal emission... thinking about that stupid locker room, I figured it was 'cause I had nothing to compare it to. I'd been perfectly respectful toward girls, but I was a young teenager with needs, so my mind was obviously resorting to what it knew. Remember Julie Fisher?"

Rachel raised an eyebrow, "The Cheerio?"

"Yeah, that's her. Blonde, pretty, great legs." David paused again, "Female. Around that time I 'went out' with her and asked her to take off her top. Y'know, so I could have something else to think about. Something appropriate for a guy my age. She slapped me. And that was that."

David smiled a bit at the memory and Rachel found herself grinning back despite herself. This storyteller was far from the Karofsky that she once knew. He was stunningly honest, and with or without forgiving the boy, she found his story quite compelling.

"But that wasn't really a problem," David said, "To an extent, I came to terms that this was a phase I'd be going through until I found the right girl. We were in high school by this point, and no one suspected anything. So I was fine with waiting. But McKinley—it doesn't really take well to people's secrets staying under the radar. In sophmore year, Azimio came to me an proposed an alliance between my hockey friends and the non-Glee members of the football team. We would force the boys to choose between the two, taking special aim at their leader, Finn. They would choose sports, of course, and glee club would be disbanded."

Rachel glared at David—that week had been one of the most stressful in the early days of the Glee Club. And hearing that it wasn't chance—that it had been plottedby the jocks, made it that much worse. David held his hands up.

"I'm not saying it was right—it's just what happened. Anyway, I tried to back out: I hadn't really had any trouble with anyone in Glee as a member of the hockey team. But Azimio looked at me all weird and said, 'What? You a f-' uh, you know... that word, 'or something? We could be kings at this school! All the best parties and all the best ladies. You wanna give that up 'cause it sounds mean? C'mon Karofsky!'" David shook his head at the memory. "I got scared. I thought I had been found out—and suddenly it all made sense: Glee was gay, so antagonizing Glee Club was straight. Do that enough, and no one would question you. Ever. And I could get girls—I could find one that would finally jolt me out of this phase. I would, as he said, be a king."

Rachel appreciated the dramatic irony of the phrase, and judging by David's wistful look, he did as well. At this point, the story had taken on a life of its own, and David was purely the vessel for it—registering each emotion as it came back strongly. Fear, pride, disappointment—Rachel could see everything etched on David's face as he continued.

"The next part kind of blends in with what you already know," he said, sighing, "For a year, I bullied you guys like crazy, and I actually began to enjoy it. The praise, the social status, and sometimes even the fear. Those moments when Kurt was afraid were the only moments I could relate to him at all. He was never all that scared about being gay, but it terrified the shit out of me. Anyway," Dave paused and downed the last of his coffee, "One way or another, Kurt finally saw through everything. I slipped up and so he knew the truth—the one thing that could destroy me permanently. At the same time, I decided that it wasn't a phase, that it wasn't going to change. And these two things, they made me go crazy. Every look in the hallway, every less than enthusiastic 'Hey, Karofsky,' meant one thing: they knew."

Karofsky smiled into an empty cup and chuckled again, but Rachel could see a moistness forming at his eyes.

"You know the funniest part of the whole thing? I ran into Kurt this year—just once—and he said to me that he never would have outed me. And for the first time I believed him. But back then, I thought he was spreading it everywhere and no one had the guts to actually tell me what they'd found out. Instead, everyone was content to laugh behind my back. I needed it to stop, and the only way to do that was to keep Kurt from talking. And when I got expelled, my dad fought it because he said he knew I was better than that. That only made me feel worse. 'He wouldn't be saying that if he knew,' I thought. Heck, I still don't know what he's going to say when I tell him. He told me I would be transferring schools at the beginning of the next year and that he expected me to make a fresh start of everything. And I'm glad he did, 'cause when Kurt won Prom Queen, there was no way I could stay at McKinley, where no one's business is their own."

Rachel looked sadly at David, who quickly wiped moisture from his eyes.

"Santana made me do the whole Bully Whip thing, and frankly, I didn't mind. It was the least I could do after everything, and if rumors started, I would be leaving soon anyway. And now here I am, once again having been found out... and it still really freaks me out. I was just kind of settling into the fact that I could play football and secretly like dudes without having to be a total ass about it. But I'm kind of freaking out here. When Jesse told me that he knew, it took everything in me not to slam him against a wall and physically threaten him. It all came back so quickly: the fear and self-loathing." David shook his head and his voice cracked slightly. "I'm tired, Berry. I don't want to go through all of this again. I can'tdo this again."

Responding to the pleading tone that David used, Rachel took the boy's hand in hers without hesitation.

"I'm not saying I forgive you," she quickly qualified, "But thank you for being so honest. It was really brave of you and I think it shows that you have grown since last I saw you. David, Jesse won't do anything against you now—his love of winning is too strong. And even if he did hold a grudge and decided to out you after Nationals, you'd have all of one week to deal with it before graduation. I'm pretty sure you could live with that."

Karofsky hesitated, "I know that, but I mean, how can you be sure? At least Kurt and Santana understood what I was going through, so I could place a little more stock in them not spilling the beans. But Jesse? He's kind of a douche."

Rachel grinned despite herself, "Yeah, he is. But you're just going to have to trust me on this."

"And what about you? Not even Finn knows, Rachel, even though he's living with Kurt. Would you be able to keep it from him? From everyone?"

"I've got two gay dads who would disown me if they found out I outed someone. That's why I stormed in to help you on that stage, even if I wasn't expecting to see you there. I know that Kurt knows. So if I'm just bursting with the urge to talk about it, I'll do so with him. Fair enough?"

"I guess," Dave shook his head, "I can't believe I told you all of that just now. We've been here for what? Two hours? It doesn't make any sense. I'm just kind of messed up, you know? And I guess I just needed to get all that out there."

As she got up from her chair, grimacing at the aches in her legs for sitting for so long, Rachel extended a handshake to David. "Happy to help," she said. Reaching into her purse, the singer grabbed a sticky note and a pen—it helped to be prepared for all circumstances. Rachel took a moment to jot down some information before handing the filled sticky note to Karofsky. "Here. It's my number and my father's number. I'm not saying you need to call him, but I think you might find that my father's a little more similar to you than you may think. It might do you some good to talk to someone gay and in a happy family, so keep those numbers on you. Oh, and I'd like you to come to the McKinley auditorium at 10am on Saturday. Again, this is just a suggestion, but Mr. Schue lets us into the building on weekends if we want to practice on the stage individually, and that's when I usually go. If you wanted to sing, I'd love to hear what Jesse was talking about."

David smiled and put the sticky note in his wallet. "Yeah, I'll think about it. Can I text you?" he asked, gesturing to his pocket.

"Yeah, that'd be great." Rachel replied.

As the two left the coffee shop, Rachel clapped a hand on David's shoulder. "Hey," she said, "I really have Jesse taken care of. Just worry about you right now, and I'll take care of him."

"I don't need the help," Karofsky huffed, "But uh... thanks, I guess? I mean, for everything. I have to say, the moment I saw you on that stage today, I thought my life was over. Thanks for proving me wrong."

Rachel smiled and headed to her car, waving goodbye to the former bully. It was a lot to take in, actually, and she would be glad to sit at home and just process everything. Dave Karofsky was gay, and hovering on the edge of even being content with it and Rachel had just helped him stay in the closet. Reaching into her pocket, Rachel grabbed her phone and sent a quick text to one of the contacts on her favorites list.

Hey, Kurt. We need to talk about something.