Kurt fled back to Windsor house and ran up to his and Trent's room. He was panting heavily and he felt like he was being pursued despite knowing very well that nobody had followed him out of the dining hall. He locked his door then went into the bathroom and locked that door, his phone gripped tightly in his hand. His doctor had told him and his dad that something like this might happen: social anxiety, paranoia, stress. He felt like something was pressing on his lungs. Yanking off his shirt, he unhooked the bandaging and raced to unwrap it, the pressure on his chest going slack. It didn't make a difference.
For a little bit, Kurt positioned himself by the toilet, convinced he was going to throw up. He did the breathing techniques that the doctors had showed him for calming himself down.
Rock, inhale through nose, rock, exhale through mouth. Relax. Rock, inhale through nose, rock, exhale through mouth. Relax.
They aren't going to hurt you.
Rock, inhale through nose, rock, exhale through mouth. Relax.
They just want to be your friends.
Rock, inhale through nose, rock, exhale through mouth. Relax.
You can trust them.
Rock, inhale through nose, rock, exhale through mouth. Relax.
They aren't going to hurt you.
Rock, inhale through nose, rock, exhale through mouth. Relax.
They aren't going to hurt you.
Eventually, the nausea faded and he was breathing normally again, relaxing as his heart beat slowed. Feeling as if he hadn't slept in a year, Kurt rose to his feet and unlocked the door, peeking out to make sure he was still alone. He walked out of the bathroom and slipped under the covers of his bed once he had kicked off his shoes. He pulled his comforter up to his chin and fell asleep.
Trent was back by the time Kurt woke up. He was sitting at his desk tapping away on the keys of his laptop. He was being careful not to make any loud noise in consideration of his sleeping roommate. He was glad Kurt was getting some sleep. Frankly, the boy looked like he was seriously lacking in the departments of sleeping and eating. Besides, Kurt may be a little nicer when he was well rested.
Kurt got out of bed and the first thing he noticed were his breasts hanging freely under his shirt. Jumping, he whirled around so his back was to Trent and scurried into the bathroom. He was relieved to find his bandaging still sitting unraveled on the floor. Trent must have not gone into the bathroom since he got back to the dorm. Locking the door, Kurt pulled off his shirt and carefully rewrapped his chest, pinning it tightly. Once he was sure his breasts were now invisible under his shirt, he left the bathroom.
"Hey." Trent smiled, turning around in his chair. "You were asleep and I didn't want to wake you up. You looked tired."
Kurt rubbed his eyes and stretched, groaning a little. "What time is it?"
"Almost three." Trent replied, checking his phone. He stared at Kurt for a moment as if contemplating. "Look, my friends and I wanted to apologize for the way we acted at lunch. We really didn't mean to make you feel pressured or uncomfortable."
"I wanted to apologize for yesterday. That probably wasn't the best approach for the waxing." Quinn shrugged.
Kurt stared at him intently. "Are you lying to me?"
Trent's eyes widened in surprise. "What? No, we just feel bad. A lot of us know what it's like to be bullied. We've all gone through it."
"If it helps, we've all been through it. It's sort of like initiation."
"What makes you think I've been bullied?" Kurt scowled.
"I…I just figured…" Trent said alarmed by how defensive Kurt was being.
"Don't make assumptions." Kurt told him, his eyes narrowing dangerously. He grabbed his bag and left the room.
For Kurt's first two weeks at Dalton, Trent and the Warblers stayed diligent in their quest to recruit Kurt for not only the Warblers, but also as their friend. Only problem was that each attempt resulted in a defensive, suspicious Kurt walking out of the room. They were beginning to lose hope.
"Maybe we need to think of things to do with Kurt that he enjoys." David suggested.
"I don't know anything about him." Trent frowned. "He doesn't talk to anybody during class and then he goes straight to the library after school to do homework. When he comes back, he locks himself in the bathroom to shower and goes directly to bed without a word. He's already gone when I wake up."
Blaine frowned. "There's got to be something we can do with him. Is he on Facebook?"
Trent shook his head. "All I know is the name of his old school."
That afternoon, the boys huddled around a computer in the library and typed McKinley High School into the search engine. The first link was to an article titled "Sophomore and Parent Sues School After Being Raped in Cafeteria." The boys exchanged curious glances.
"Click on it. See what it is." Wes urged.
Trent hesitated before clocking on the link. There was a picture of Ricky's mug shot, the only visual provided. The boys peered at it before reading the article to themselves.
A fifteen year old sophomore at McKinley High in Lima, Ohio was brutally raped and beaten in the cafeteria of the school only a week or so after school had started. The girl was restrained by four boys while a senior member of the football team (see photo) stripped and raped her. It was reported that there were in fact staff members monitoring the lunch period but a large group of students had blocked their view of the scene. Many other cases of sexual assault on the girl were reported after the incident and the girl's parent filed a lawsuit the following Friday.
The sophomore had not only been sexually harassed by classmates, but physically beaten and verbally abused by several students and bullied to a point in which she was forced to walk naked through the halls of school after having her clothes stolen.
While the girl and her father won the lawsuit, he has made the claim that his child will never be returning to McKinley despite the sincere apologies from the school board and the reforms on anti-bullying policies in the school.
The boys looked at each other in shock.
"Sounds like a great school." Nick muttered sarcastically.
"I wonder what happened to the girl." Trent said.
"Transferred. Probably private school." Jeff replied. "After all of that, no way I'd stick around."
"This still tells us nothing about Kurt." Blaine sighed.
"We know that it was a horrible school full of terrible bullies." Nick offered.
The boys started to look for more links, but the bell rang for the end of third period.
"We'll look some more after gym." Wes decided as the group walked to the gymnasium.
To the boys' surprise, Kurt was in gym that day. He was already in his gym clothes when they entered the gym and Blaine was astonished by how…athletic he looked. His legs were slender and toned with his shorts pulled up to his thighs and his baggy shirt concealing delicate arms. He was no weight lifter, but Blaine was willing to bet he had abs.
"Hey, Kurt!" He called over, watching the boy jump in surprise. He sighed as Kurt slowly shifted towards the coach and pretended not to see him. He followed the other boys into the locker room and got changed.
"Did Kurt just get transferred to our gym class or something?" Nick asked.
"I guess. He got here just in time, too." Wes said.
"How come?" Blaine asked.
"Swimming, duh. That's always the best unit. We don't even have to warm up." Wes answered.
The others grinned and Blaine contently whispered "yesssssss" under his breath.
"What if Kurt doesn't like to swim?" Trent asked.
"What makes you say that? Everybody likes to swim!" David said.
"He doesn't seem to like much of anything." Trent shrugged. "I just don't know what to do anymore."
"Give him some time." Blaine urged again. "Maybe if he sees how much we want to be his friend then he'll start letting his guard down a little."
Trent sighed. "I hope you're right."
They walked out in their uniforms and immediately looked over at Kurt, who was already doing his stretches.
"Whoa, he's flexible." David said in surprise. "Maybe he's a gymnast."
Blaine shrugged, watching Kurt intently. He couldn't take his eyes off of the pale, slender leg that twisted up and around, high in the air, back curling as if he had no bones. It took him a few seconds to realize that somebody was calling his name.
"Sheesh, Blaine. Don't pop a boner." Wes teased, making the boy blush and shove him jokingly.
"Shut up." Blaine muttered.
"Kurt and Blainey sittin' in a tree. Kurt leaves 'cause he hates ev'rybody." Jeff sang.
"You guys are being jerks." Trent stated.
"Sorry." Jeff said sheepishly.
Ignoring them, Blaine trotted over to Kurt and smiled. "Hey."
Kurt stiffened and turned around, blushing furiously. He tried to say something, but as he stared into Blaine's intense, gorgeous eyes and charming smile, he became frozen in place. He was like a deer caught in headlights.
Blaine noticed this and gave him a warm smile. "Do you like sports?" He asked kindly. "I prefer dance, but I love the team atmosphere."
"Sorry, gay kid. I only protect my girls. The only way you're safely walking out of here is in a Cheerio's uniform." Sue shrugged, looking very disinterested in Kurt's impending doom.
Kurt didn't reply. He was standing still and staring at him. Blaine shifted uneasily. "I remember my first few weeks at Dalton. I didn't talk to anybody." He started stretching and Kurt struggled not to stare at his muscles. "I transferred here because I got bullied really badly at my old school. They didn't take too kindly to having a queer amongst them." He gave Kurt an understanding smile. "It was tough."
"You may be a girl, but you're still a fucking fag. I'm probably carrying out one of your fantasies right now, you cockslut." Baker continued, and shame welled up in Kurt's chest.
Kurt turned to look at him. "Tough?"
Blaine started to nod and stopped when he noticed Kurt's fists clenching.
"Yes." Kurt hissed. "Liking boys must be such an ordeal."
Blaine looked at him in astonishment. "You're straight?"
Kurt put on a brave front and glared at him. "I think I'd have to be a guy to be gay. Technically, I'm straight now."
"No way, growing tits doesn't make you any less of a faggot. If anything, it makes you even more of a freak." Karofsky retorted.
Kurt stared at him coldly. "I don't know what I am."
Blaine nodded and it was obvious that Kurt wanted to be left alone, so he retreated back to the group of boys.
"How'd it go?" Wes asked, appearing behind him with the others.
"I…I'm not sure." Blaine frowned. "He's going to be a tough one to crack."
"Give it time. If anybody can get him out of that shell of his, it's you." David said and Blaine nodded in agreement, though this time he wasn't too sure.
Kurt was just finishing up his stretches when he felt that awful rush of liquid in his panties. A blush rose on his face as he stiffened in his spot before hurrying over to the coach and whispering into his ear. Then he rushed out of the gym, running all the way to the nurse's office. He was panting when he finally burst in.
"Kurt? What can I do for you?" The nurse asked.
Kurt glanced over at a boy sitting in a chair who was getting his hand bandaged by a nurse's assistant. "Um, could we talk privately?" He whispered.
"Of course." She smiled understandingly and led him into the back room, closing the door behind her. "What's the problem?"
Kurt fidgeted nervously. "I'm bleeding."
The nurse raised an eyebrow. "From down there?"
Kurt bit his lip and nodded. "I…I know this is an all boy's school. I was…I was just wondering if you had anything here that I could use." He said softly.
"Wait one second." She instructed.
Kurt nodded and bounced impatiently, cringing when he felt more blood soak into his underwear. It seemed like a million years had passed before the nurse returned and presented him with a tampon.
"Do you know how to use this?" She asked and Kurt flushed as he nodded. "Good. Put this in and go back to your dorm. Take a shower and wash your clothes right away. Soak your underwear in cold water and detergent to get the stains out." She wrote him a pass. "I'll call your gym teacher to excuse you from class and have him send someone to bring you your belongings."
Kurt nodded gratefully and once she had left, he locked the door. He dropped his shorts and panties and spread his legs to insert the tampon, making an uncomfortable face as it went in. He quickly disposed of it and hiked his shorts up before thanking the nurse and heading to Windsor.
Once he was in his room, he opened his top drawer and pulled out some clean underwear, groaning as a cramp in his abdomen made itself known. "Why anybody would ever want to be a girl." He muttered as he dug into his closet and pulled out his suitcase. He selected a tampon a tampon and hurried into the bathroom. He stropped and pulled out the tampon, quickly throwing it away in disgust. He grabbed a towel from under the sink and looked in the full body mirror in irritation. His inner thighs were stained with blood and it was spread across his groin. Gross. He hopped into the shower and welcomed the hot water like a Labor Day sale.
Trent was called out of gym ten minutes after Kurt had left. He jogged over to the coach a little confused. "Yes, sir?"
"Mr. Hummel had to leave class due to a medical issue. Would you mind bringing him his possessions?" The coach asked.
Trent nodded quickly. "Of course." He hurried into the locker room and grabbed his room key before gathering up all of Kurt's things. He put his folded up uniform into his school bag and slung it over his shoulder before grabbing Kurt's perfectly polished shoes. He left through the gym door, walking the distance to Windsor house. The scuffling of his shoes echoed in the empty building as he ascended the main stairs. He turned right into the A wing and fished his key out of his pocket, unlocking the door. He entered and set Kurt's things on his bed.
"Kurt?" He called out. He heard the shower running and the door was halfway open. From inside, he could hear the sweetest voice he'd ever heard singing Defying Gravity. It actually made him smile. He was going to have to tell the others. They'd be so excited; the Warblers had never had a countertenor before.
He started to walk towards the bathroom, Kurt's dresser catching his eye as he walked closer to it. His eyes widened comically and he blushed as he found himself staring into a drawer full of panties with a few pairs of boxers here and there. "What the..." He muttered. Don't judge. He reminded himself. Wearing girl's underwear wasn't anything to be ostracized for. So what if his roommate was a tranny?
He heard the water shut off and the voice became clearer, ringing out pure and sweet like a Disney princess. He decided to wait on the bed for Kurt to come out to make sure he was okay before going back to class. After a few minutes, Trent grew impatient. How long did it take to get out of the shower for Pete's sake? He looked up quickly when the door opened and out stepped…
a girl?
Kurt stepped out of the shower and immediately propped one leg onto the toilet to put in the new tampon before drying himself off. Making sure there wasn't any more blood on him or in the tub, he wrapped himself in a towel and stepped out of the bathroom, only to find Trent waiting for him on the bed.
"Ahhh! TRENT!" Kurt shrieked. "What the fuck?" He clutched the towel tightly to his chest, trying to hide more of his breasts. With such a short towel, it was pretty obvious that he had no dick.
Trent stared at him in horror and bewilderment. "Kurt? Y-you have boobs!"
"Get out!" Kurt screamed. "Leave!"
Unable to do anything else, Trent obeyed. His mind was blank of all thoughts except for the fact that his roommate, his MALE roommate, had boobs and no cock. He stumbled out of the room and shut the door before fleeing down the stairs and back to gym.
Kurt felt like crying. It was happening all over again. Hadn't he learned from last time to never let his guard down while showering? He could just picture it in his mind: Trent running off to tell his friends, all of them being completely disgusted.
"Ew! No way we're sharing a locker room with that freak of nature!" A Cheerio named Cassidy grimaced.
They'd tell everyone and the touching would start again. The touching and stripping and sly comments that made him feel so dirty inside.
"I bet you'd love that, Lady Hummel. For everyone to see your cute little panties." Chaz grinned.
The queasiness returned and Kurt lied down in just his towel, trying to stop his rapidly beating hear from bursting out of his chest.
Inhale through the nose, exhale through the mouth. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
Eventually, he was under control again and he slowly got up. Shuffling over to his dresser, he dropped his towel and slipped on a pair of panties, then dug through his drawer until he found a bra. What was the point of binding if everybody knew, anyway? He pulled on some boxers and a camisole before grabbing his laptop off of his desk and crawling into bed.
Screw the blood stains.