AN: So, I'm writing this instead of reading my french novel that's due tomorrow. But that's okay, because I'm pretty fluent in french anyway. Also, did anyone heard about Chris Colfer's book tour dates being released tomorrow? I'm really excited for that, because my parents said that if he comes close enough to here (I live in Mississauga, but let's say Chris came to Buffalo) then my parents said I could go! There's a possibility I could be meeting my hero this summer.
The second bell of the day sounded, ringing through the halls and alerting students that the next class was about to begin. Kurt was actually surprised for once, since this was probably the first time he was able to walk down the McKinley halls without having to change a slushy-stained shirt. Then again, it was only October. There was plenty of time for more of those.
Kurt slid into his seat that he was assigned to since September. He reached into his satchel, pulling out a few of his World History textbooks. Kurt looked up when he heard a small voice coming from next to him.
"Kurt," Rachel perked, taking her seat diagonal to him. It was an inconvenient seating plan, with the desks arranged in a strange, rectangular shape, but what Kurt loved the most about sitting diagonal to Rachel was that he could easily turn his head and give her funny looks whenever their history teacher gave her class the stink eye.
"I need you to help me out with something today after school," Rachel told Kurt. "I want to try something out for sectionals, and it's a duet. The only person who's voice sounds the best mixed with mine other than Finn's is yours, and I'm sure Finn won't want to sing a song about "the Wicked Witch being dead."
Kurt laughed. "Sure. Anything that saves me from sitting through another dreadful football game while I'm sandwiched in-between my dad and Finn on the sofa."
The class began. The history teacher, Ms. Bernard, began to take attendance. She held a clip board in her arms as she skimmed through the list of present students, but paused when she got to an unfamiliar name. She squinted, and then remembered that the principal notified her about a new student joining the class.
"Blaine Anderson?" Ms. Bernard called. But no one answered. The teacher had to call the mysteriously non-existing name before a jock called out, "I don't think he's here."
Kurt looked to his right. He sat at the very edge of his table, so there were two empty spots next to him. It was nice having a table all to himself, but he couldn't help but think that it re-enforced the stereotype about staying away from gays, or else you might "catch their disease."
Ms. Bernard just put her clipboard down and began the lesson, scrawling things about the French Revolution on the board in white chalk. Kurt was a focused, intelligent student, so he naturally began to take down the notes.
Kurt looked around at the class, most of which was a giant mixture of kids from totally different cliques. There were a few football players that ignored the lesson and flirted with a few cheerleaders sitting to their left, some druggies that were too stuffed up with pot and acid to even know where they were, and a few goths that doodled skulls and spiderwebs with black marker on their arms. Kurt sighed, looking down at his notes again. He couldn't help but just feel that he didn't belong here, not with these Lima-Losers, not with the obnoxious, clueless people that had no ambition. That was why Kurt was going to work his hardest to somehow use his talent to get out of the cow town known as Lima.
About halfway through the lesson, the door swung open, flying so hard that it hit the blackboard behind it. It caused half the students in the classroom to jump, including Ms. Bernard, Kurt, and Rachel. Everyone looked towards the door.
There was a kid standing in the threshold, a kid that Kurt had never seen before. He was dressed in tight, dark jeans, black lace-up boots, a white t-shirt, and a shabby leather jacket that looked as if it would start ripping at the seams if the boy were to move an inch. Usually, Kurt would reprimand this type of clothing, since he was basically the heart and soul of fashion and he himself dressed to the nines, but Kurt wasn't exactly paying attention to the boy's clothes.
Kurt sucked his lips in and tried to suppress his blush as the boy leaned against the door frame. He was cute, really cute... handsome, in a strange, villainy-type way. His skin was tanned and fair, with black curly hair, triangular eyebrows, the slightest hint of a stubble on his pronounced jaw, and the eyes. Oh, the eyes, that seemed to shine a bright honey color even with him standing up at the front of the classroom, was what got to Kurt. Kurt had seen plenty of hot boys before. But this boy...well.
He looked like nothing but trouble.
Ms. Bernard adjusted her glasses from falling off the bridge of her nose. "Can I help you?"
"Well," the boy said in a deep, careless voice, "I suppose I'm supposed to be here for class, although I could think of a million other things I could be doing right now."
Ms. Bernard pursed her lips. "What's your name?"
"Blaine," the boy responded.
"Mr. Anderson," Ms. Bernard was scowling now, "You appear to be about twenty five minutes late to class. Do you have a late slip?"
Blaine sighed. "Let it slide, granny, it's my first day of school."
There were some snickers and quiet whispers coming from the class now. Kurt's mouth almost dropped to the ground at the sound of this kid's comment.
You could practically see the steam coming out of Ms. Bernard's ears by now. "I will ask you not to use such inappropriate commentary in my class. Now, if you would, please take a seat."
Blaine eyed the class with a fierce "what-are-you-looking-at?" glare that made most of the students jump and look away. The jocks, who usually weren't afraid of anything, just rolled their eyes and went back to talking to the cheerleaders.
Blaine walked down the aisle that was created by the parting desks until those electrifying eyes were settled right on Kurt's.
Kurt immediately looked back down at his paper, picking up his pencil and starting to write again. The new boy had startled him, not with his dashing good looks, or the rude remarks, or the black clothing...but just those damn eyes that could probably burn a hole into the desks if he stared long enough at them. They were intimidating, saying don't mess with me.
What Kurt didn't see, however, was the smirk Blaine had on his lips when he spotted Kurt sitting alone at an empty table. And boy, did Blaine check Kurt out immensely. Blaine raked his eyes up at down the slender, pale figure with the coiffed, chestnut hair and the eyes as bright as the sea sitting with his back straight in the chair. The boy was dressed in odd clothing: black and white striped pants with white boots and a short-sleeved, red button down. Blaine usually hated kooky clothing that looked like it was pulled out of a Tim Burton movie, but for some uncanny reason, Blaine found the clothes on this boy very attractive indeed. Almost as if wearing anything else wouldn't suit him.
Well, other than just his naked body, of course.
Blaine smirked again, sitting down in at the table with the boy, one seat away from him so that there was only one empty seat in-between Kurt and Blaine. Kurt pretended like he didn't notice Blaine sitting down next to him, pretended like he didn't just inhale the sweet aroma of cologne and...was that a hint of smoke?
"Hey," Blaine whispered in a husky voice. He gently poked Kurt in the arm with his finger. "What's your name, sexy?"
Kurt's face flushed at what this boy was saying. No one had ever called him sexy before, and even if it was coming from some sleazy bad boy, he had to admit that it did make his heart beat increase. Because let's face it: a hot boy is a hot boy, no matter how icky they might be.
Kurt could feel both Blaine's and Rachel's eyes on him, making his face hot. He could see Rachel's face at the corner of his eye, her jaw hung open and her eyes wide, and just as Kurt was about to turn to her to silently beg for help, Blaine poked him again, harder this time.
"Hey," Blaine's voice was a bit louder now. "I said, what's your name?"
Kurt turned to him, putting on his most indifferent/bored looking face, as he replied, "Kurt Hummel."
Kurt didn't know why he gave Blaine his last name, but he just felt like he should, since that was how he always introduced himself. Blaine smirked yet again, and Kurt couldn't deny the blush on his cheeks.
The bell rang about twenty minutes later. Twenty long minutes of listening to Blaine pop his gum and sigh while he propped his feet up on the desk (followed by a "Mr. Anderson, feet off the desk please!" and a chuckle from the class.) Kurt was glad for the empty chair next separating the boys, creating some sort of invisible barrier, because there was no way Kurt would have been able to concentrate if Blaine was right next to him.
Kurt had third period lunch, so he was going to meet up with some of his glee club friends who also had the same lunch as him. Kurt stopped off at his locker to drop off a few books. When he was finished, he closed the locker door and jumped when he saw Blaine's face just a few inches beside his. Nonetheless, Kurt tried to shake off his surprise.
"Wanna stand any closer?" Kurt said, thankful that he had such a sharp tongue.
"Well, if you're insisting," Blaine gave a wink. Kurt was about to walk off when he felt Blaine's hand grip his bare arm. It wasn't a harsh grab, not like how he was touched by the bullies at school. It was a gentle grasp, but still firm.
"We didn't really get to have a proper introduction before," Blaine said, spinning Kurt around to face him. "I'm Blaine."
"I am aware that your name is Blaine," Kurt said, ignoring the warm tingles he got when Blaine rested his fingers around Kurt's arm. "You made that quite clear when you insulted Ms. Bernard in front of the class."
"That old hag? She deserved it if you ask me. She ought to retire before she dies in the middle of a lesson."
Kurt just rolled his eyes, starting to pull away, when Blaine stopped him. "Hey, hey, wait. So you're Kurt, huh? You know I've only been here a couple of hours, but I can tell just by taking a look at your striped-ass that you're 100% dick loving, am I right? Hell, just listening to your "The Sound of Music" esque name is making my gay-dar go off the charts."
Kurt cringed at Blaine's choice of crude words. "Congratulations, you know I'm gay. Now you can pummel me into the ground like all the other gorilla's here do."
"Woah," Blaine held his hands up in surrender. "Who said anything about pummeling your cute little ass? In fact, I play roughly in a different sort of way. Feel free to ask me how, and I'd be happy to show you."
Kurt couldn't believe what he was hearing, and his blood began to boil because of how incredibly annoying this boy was...and because of how undeniably hot he was.
"No thanks, Danny Zuko," Kurt replied, trying to make his voice sound bitchy. "I'm not into that kind of stuff."
Blaine leaned in very close to Kurt now, with Kurt's back pressed to the lockers and one of Blaine's hands placed on the locker's near Kurt's head, trapping him inside the tiny cage.
"Well, get used to me, because you see this locker, right here?" Blaine knocked on the metal door with his knuckles, the locker that was right next to Kurt's. "This one's mine for the entire year."
Kurt just huffed and pushed Blaine off of him, making Blaine chuckle.
"By the way," Blaine said, "You're pretty cute when you blush."
Blaine stuffed his fists into his pockets and marched away into the opposite direction, into the sea of students now flooding the hallway to go to lunch.
Kurt just stood there, and cursed himself when he pressed his palms to his cheeks and found that they were hot.
One thing was for sure... Kurt didn't know how he was going to spend a whole year next to the most irksome, irritating, and most dangerous person he could know. But Kurt did not want to like Blaine, not now or ever, and so far, in terms of liking the boy, this was a pretty good start.