30 Minutes In Hell

On Monday morning, I managed to make it through approximately 33 minutes and 48 seconds of school before I was basically forced off campus.

On Sunday evening, Kurt and I had IM'd each other until our utterly simple and nearly flawless plan had been formulated. When Monday morning came around, Kurt and I would meet in the north parking lot, which was always a wasteland due to the fact that it happened to make a good spot for cornering those who were on the "Pee-Balloon Victim List". At first, I was a bit hesitant, but Kurt assured me that we wouldn't be ambushed with any liquified breakfast. Even through simple text, the way he spoke to me was so relaxing. Anyhow, after meeting up with each other, Kurt and I would walk together towards the main entrance. As we made our way into the building, we were to join hands with each other, and he would start walking with me to my first period Economics class. A tingling sensation ran up my spine when he first told me we would be holding hands. With each other. In a slightly sensual way. Well, maybe not sensual him. Kurt had been clear that we were to execute "strictly friends hand-holding." Because not all gay guys wanted to make a firework all over each other's faces. Some just wanted to be buddies. Even so, I could hardly keep my eyes shut Sunday night at how exhilarated I felt. The last part of the plan was to be the hardest, but also the most rewarding. Whenever someone queried us on why we were suddenly walking down the halls hand in hand with each other, I was to proudly announce, "I'm gay," and then continue to walk down the hall with Kurt in tow and with my head held high.

The plan had seemed nearly perfect, in a way. But boy, were we in for a surprise.

"So, are you ready for this Dave?" Kurt asked, gripping the flaps of his cherry red, gender-ambiguous, corduroy peacoat as the wind picked up and whipped his hair up into tiny little knots, "This is your big moment to show 'em all what you're made of."

"Ready as I'll ever be," I joked, slightly more to myself than to him. In reality, I was completely terrified, but it wasn't like I could turn back at that point. Kurt would have been completely disappointed in me and I might have lost one of my only friends. I had to just suck it up and be brave. Brave like how Brett kept running when he had a dozen guys on his tail trying to tackle him. Brave like when Anthony went to get a rebound while a 6-foot-9 giant from the other team was trying to dunk. Brave like when William took a flying soccer ball to the forehead to keep it from getting into the goal. Yeah, I like that last one, I thought, William's probably the braver than the rest of us brothers combined and then doubled! I took a nice deep breath, then turned and looked straight into Kurt's eyes for inspiration. "Let's do this," I nodded to him. He smiled and his eyes lit up like ice on fire. It was stunning. He was stunning.

I wanted him. But I had to come out first.

When we finally reached the main doors, we took a minute to prepare ourselves. Then it was time. Kurt clutched my hand, and I immediately wanted to swipe it back as my palms started to sweat. But he did not let go, and as I pushed open the glass doors into the halls of Mckinley High, his grip became tighter. Right foot. Left foot. Right foot. Left foot. Right. Left. Right. Left. Yeah, you're gettin' the hang of this Dave. You're actually doing it! A big goofy grin burst onto my face as it finally hit me that this was it. People were staring at us from every angle, gossiping about possible explanations for why Kurt and I would be together. But I didn't care. Neither did Kurt. I was coming out of the closet to my school. I wouldn't have to hide anymore. I was finally free of my cage.

I turned to Kurt and smiled really wide to share my excitement with him. The way he kept his head facing opposite me made me feel like he needed it. But when he turned to me, he wasn't blushing because he was embarrassed by my presence. His blush was dainty, and pink, and made his cheeks look like slightly bruised peaches. Does he like me?

Unfortunately, I didn't have time to get any sort of answer. Because just as we were turning the corner that would lead us to morning Economics... BAM! SPLASH! SPLOOSH! It was all over in a millisecond. The blush. The hands. And it had ruined Kurt's pretty little red jacket. I quickly wiped the blue from my eyes to identify the punk who had assaulted us, and clenched my fists immediately after seeing his face.

"Hey Dave," Scott Cooper smirked, "You hear about those fags at the mall? Well, rumor has it they're starting to show up in pairs at McKinley High too."

"Originally these were for that loud-mouthed dingleberry girl," Added another random hockey player who I was too enraged by to remember, "But when we saw how publicly perverse you two were being, we decided to step in and enforce the status quo around here."

As they headed towards whatever classes they had next, Kurt and I stood still, shivering with how cold and awful those blue slushies really were.

"C'mon, lets go clean ourselves off," He wheezed, dragging me towards the locker room to freshen up before first period started.

I tingled as he gently brought the warm, wet cloth across my face, trying to make it a little less sticky. Oooooo, sticky. No, bad Dave. Stop being so dirty. I flinched as the fabric danced over my dry, cracked winter-lips. And Kurt seemed to notice. Otherwise, I wasn't quite sure why he would proceed to dab my face effortlessly and put the hand towel down on to the bench. Kurt's eyes turned their attention to the floor. He hadn't washed up yet, and I was starting to get a little worried.

"Kurt," I started softly, "Are you okay?" He sniffed a little and nodded, still not making eye contact. Maybe he's embarrassed that he couldn't protect me. I put a hand on my shoulder and tried to give him my warmest smile. "It's okay little guy, you didn't have to go out of your way to protect me. I'll be just fine on my own," I assured him. He relaxed a little bit, and I was relieved, but not for long.

Little did I know, we were about to be interrupted.

The door swung open and a thunderous stampede of sneakers hitting tile neared us. Kurt and I walked past the lockers concealing whoever had come inside, and we were frozen again. The football team seemed to be collectively snarling at us. Kurt stumbled back a little, and so I outstretched my arm across his chest and looked them all in the eyes. "What do you want?"

"We want you two out!" Said one guy. "Yeah, get the hell out of our locker room, you peeping faggots," Shouted another. Soon, the whole room was ablaze with demands for us to leave. Apparently, most of the football team had heard about our little hand-holding stunt. And they weren't very pleased.

"Fine," I finally managed to spit out. Kurt nodded, his head hanging even lower than before, and as I left the room with him, I scanned the teammates in the mob. Not a single Glee Club member was present. And Azimio and Strando? No where to be found. Where the hell could those two be?

Standing outside, I looked at Kurt again. The blue slushie was starting to dry, and I could see the goosebumps on his neck had not shrunk. "Are you alright?" I asked slowly, "Do you want me to take you to another bathroom? Get you cleaned up, maybe?"

"Nah, I'm fine," Kurt sighed, almost as if it were in defeat, "Anyways, you'll be late for class." And he shoved me off towards the Economics room before stomping in the other direction. Wow, I had no idea how much those slushies got the guy down, I thought as I made my way into Mr. Thames's classroom, I wish I knew what was really going on inside his head, though.

I carefully chose my seat in the back of the room -I didn't want to attract too much attention after my stunt in the hallway- and the classroom began to fill. Two girls walked in, with big Snooki hair and hooker makeup, and we made eye contact with each other. They immediately started whispering, and I could see the blond one pointing a little bit in my direction. Then they took their seats in the middle of the room and took peeks backwards to look at me, continuing to whisper as they did. I could tell by how their tongues kept thrashing like that of a snake that their murmurs were not positive. As the classroom finally began to fill up with the rest of the students, more whispering started. Eventually, the whole room was talking about me in some way. And then the snickers began. Two boys near the back window just couldn't stop hissing and giggling. I looked down at my feet and saw a note crumpled up on the ground. I was slightly wary about picking it up, though I did so anyways. But I still don't know why I opened it.

Fag.

This was all it read. Immediately after the words hit me, the paper felt like fire, and I had to drop it on the desk in order not to feel burnt by its presence in my hand.

"Good morning everyone," Mr. Thames greeted in his jolly tone. For a subject as boring as Economics, Mr. Thames always seemed to be a bit too excited about it, "Today we will begin writing our essays on the stimulus package President Obama used to help balance the economy several years ago..." As his words began turning to mush, much like they always did, my ears pricked up at the sound of more whispering. It was louder, and their disgusted faces were more visible. They were obviously saying more, but all I could hear were the vicious taunts. "Faggot." "Queer" "Homo." I shivered as the sound of their hatred bounced across the room and into my ears. Then, something else bounced against my desk. Another paper note, this one a tad bit more eloquent than the last.

Go to hell, cock-sucker.

What a literary masterpiece, I groaned to myself, trying to keep the tears from falling with a little sarcasm. But the notes just kept coming and coming, and there wasn't enough sarcasm in me to keep all of the terrible words at bay.

Go be a homo somewhere else!

Get a room, fag.

Just thinking about what you guys do together makes me sick to my stomach.

You're on your way to hell, queer.

I wish you'd die!

As the notes slowly began to pile up, I felt as if they were drowning me. Then, SPLAT! A spitball came flying at me from across the room and landed right on my forearm. Then another. And then another. The last one to land came a bit too close to my eye, so I raised my hand to get Mr. Thames's attention.

"Excuse me, sir," I mumbled nervously.

"Yes David?" He answered. "May I go to the nurse? I feel sick to my stomach."

"Alright David, go ahead."

As I slipped out of the classroom, I caught a few more slurs. They stuck to me like those spitballs as I made my way to the nurse's office -wet, gross, and annoying, with a slight sting from the quick contact they make to your skin.

"Well, you seem just fine, David," Nurse MacKenzie assured me as she lifted the thermometer up from my forehead, "But since you have only been absent twice this semester, you can call for someone to pick you up if you really don't feel well."

"Thank you, Miss," I sighed. I pulled my legs up and held them, placing my chin in between my knees. I reached into my pocket and dialed the perfect number.

"Hey, baby bro, what's up?" Came the relaxing voice through the phone.

I took a deep breath before responding, "Hey William. Can you come pick me up from school? I'm not feeling so well.

"Of course, little guy. Meet me outside the main entrance in a few minutes. But what about your car?"

"We can come pick it up later."

"Alright then. See you in a bit." The tone signaling that William had hung up flooded my ear. I stuffed the phone back into my pocket and headed to my locker to collect my things.

"What are you doing?" The voice seemed to come out of nowhere. I stuffed my last book into my backpack and shut my locker.

"Kurt, is that you?" I asked. He turned the corner and came right up to me. He was frowning.

"Where the hell are you going, Dave? I thought we agreed we'd try a whole day!" He snapped at me. I flinched a little bit, but then came back for my rebuttal.

"I'm not feeling too well, alright! Just get off my fucking back already!" My tone was so angry, it was almost foreign to me at that point. But apparently I was still a bit of a bully, way deep down on the inside.

"No, that's not it," He told me, "I know you can handle it Dave. It's just a day."

"NO I CAN'T!" I shot back, shoving him a little bit, "And don't you start acting like the brave one, Kurt. I saw how you acted after we got slushied. You were so upset, YOU COULDN'T EVEN FUCKING TALK FOR CHRISTS SAKE!" Silence. I was wheezing from all the yelling I had done. Kurt's head was down again. When he picked it back up, he looked just like my father had after I had gotten expelled.

"I'm disappointed in you, Karofsky. I thought you were stronger than this. And to think I actually got a little embarrassed when we were holding hands this morning," I flinched a bit, about to be stung with his words. "Well, you know what, Karofsky? I take it all back. The way you were protecting me before was fake. You may be able to stand up to the guys you know, but you can't even take criticism from complete strangers, can you. I don't like you the way I did half an hour ago. And it'll take a lot of convincing to make me feel like that again." As he strutted off back to where he came, I slid down to the tile.

What have I gotten myself into?

Hey everyone! Finally, I have a contest for you! In the beginning, when Dave mentions how "not all gay guys want to make a firework all over each other's faces," which famous YouTube user has said this before? I'll give you a hint: it's a he. And he does talk about Glee sometimes. In fact, the quote has something to do with what he said about Kurt and Blaine! Oh, I'm giving away too much. The winner gets a digital chibi cookie of CHARLOTTE! RAWR! I'm not sure why I picked her, because she's kind of gross, so I suspect she won't make a very good cookie. '-_-

Also, I feel SO bad about all of the awful slurs I had to come up with in this chapter. It feels funny when I type them, almost like when I make Dave swear. But at least when he drops an F-bomb it's not personally offensive to anybody. SORRY ABOUT ALL THE NASTY WORDS! (They were almost as nasty as the grease in Charlotte's hair).

And another thing. MY DAVE AND REAL CANON KURT WERE TOTALLY MEANT TO BE! PLUS, BURT WILL LOVE HIM! Remember in Sexy when Burt gave Kurt the talk? All the things Burt said are exactly what Dave thinks! IN MY WORLD, THEY ARE PERFECT FOR EACH OTHER! MWUHAHAHAHA!

Anyhoo, you know the whole equation thingy.

reviews + favorite + alert = LOVE

~ Sea Pig

P.S. I may re-write this chapter later. I'm not really happy with the ending, but I want to focus on finishing the story.