Well, here's Chapter 3! I have a ton of +favs and alerts and things for this story, but no reviews, so please, take a second and let me know what you all think so far! For all I know, you're alerting so you can publicly mock me later! ;)
Blaine settles into Dalton well. He arrives at the same time every morning, Cooper nearly always running late for his own classes at Ohio State and rushing them out the door. Blaine has learned to be an early riser if he wants to have any time to get ready at all.
It's the same routine every day. Shower. Undershirt, underwear. Trousers, belt, socks. White dress shirt, tie. Tie shoes. Gel hair. Double-check the contents of his school bag, blazer and go. It keeps him calm, keeps him steady. He can think of the next task and not let his mind wander. He only spares a time to smile to himself when he hears Cooper rampaging through the house trying to find his shoes - where are the damn things? - or coat or keys.
In school, he tends to keep to himself. His mom tells him constantly to branch out, to talk to his peers, make some friends, but to Blaine, everyone he doesn't know is a potential enemy. And he hates that he thinks this way about the guys at Dalton, about anyone really, when he was always determined to see the best in people before. He wonders if he lost that part after the fist to his face or the bat to his ankle. He hears his mom talk about his iost innocence while his dad grumbles along with her.
Wes never fails to find Blaine in the halls and walk him to class or bring him to the lunch table he shares with his friends. David and Thad and Trent are all nice guys, always sure to include Blaine in their conversations. They bug him relentlessly to audition for the Warblers, though Blaine turns them down every time, politely as he can. Wes keeps an eye on him, not that he really needs it. He doesn't go out of his way to talk to anyone but Blaine has to admit the attention is kind of nice. To be someone who is cared about, sought after, mentored. Wes makes it known that Blaine can come to him with any questions, concerns, problems he might have. Blaine always smiles and nods.
November comes with a blast of cold - there are four inches of snow on the ground the first week of the month. It does nothing to lift Blaine's spirits. He and Cooper used to pass the snow days with hours spent in the cold, throwing snowballs and building igloos and daring each other to stick their tongue to the frozen porch swing, until their mother would call them inside, ready with hot chocolate and tissues for their red noses. Now it just serves as a reminder of how he isn't that little kid anymore - how he can't be awed by frozen precipitation when there are people in the world capable of hate and violence.
Two days after the snow falls, he is called out of his homeroom class and directed to the grand hall. He gathers his things and peeks out into the empty hallway, hoping he remembers the way.
The one time I really need Wes, he thinks.
The grand hall is set with chairs and tables, a podium on the stage, refreshments table off to the side. Blaine filters in with several of the students he recognizes from his classes, all of whom are also new, freshmen or transfer students like himself.
A man at the front taps on the mic, which squeals, causing a commotion among the students.
"Welcome, welcome, boys, now if you'll all please find a seat."
Blaine is lost as a sea of blazers file toward the chairs, seating themselves and chattering.
"Quiet, quiet please!"
Blaine turns to the front, watching the man he recognizes as Professor Treeger, the dean of students.
"We're still waiting for our guests from our sister school, Crawford Country Day, to arrive but until then, please allow me to officially welcome you all to Dalton Academy."
He looks down over the students, smiling.
"Many of you are here as part of a legacy, next in the long line of Dalton men before you, while others of you are just getting your first taste of the life of a private school setting. I trust you are all settling in well?"
A chorus of "yes, professor" rings throughout the room when the door in the back creaks open and a harried woman pushes through, an apologetic look on her face, shaking the snow off of her boots.
"Ah! And it appears our guests have arrived," Professor Treeger motions to the back and the entire group of boys turns to watch.
A group of plaid-skirted girls come through the door and many of the boys around Blaine begin to clamor excitedly.
"Find a seat, girls."
The girls keep together in a small group except for one who breaks off and weaves through the tables, finding a seat near the front, which just happens to be next to Blaine.
The rest of the girls file into their seats, and the woman and Professor Treeger continue their welcomes and launch into their speeches. The girl turns to Blaine.
"Hi," her smile is bright. "I'm Amanda."
Blaine regards her, decides she presents no real threat and he wasn't brought up to be rude.
"My name's Blaine."
"So you're new at Dalton?" She points to his wrist. "Guess I can see why."
"Oh, no no," he is always quick to correct people when they assume his injuries are the reason he is there, whatever caused them. He doesn't want to have flaws, dents in his armor. He is often thankful for the long sleeves of the blazer which cover the lingering green tint of bruises that still litter his skin.
"Has nothing to do with- with this," he raises his arm. "My parents thought public school was a little too... easy. And it will look great having Dalton on my college applications."
"Oh I see," Amanda smiles again, though she doesn't sound convinced. "Same with my parents. Nothing but the best for their little girl," she rolls her eyes, laughing an infectious laugh.
Blaine can't help but smile along with her. He looks at the boys at his table to see if they are laughing too and notes the envious look on all their faces.
He turns back. He supposes Amanda is a pretty girl. He isn't particularly inclined to check out girls, but he isn't blind. Her face is pleasant, her long brown hair pulled back into a simple braid.
They talk quietly enough to not be noticed by the professors; at the end of the speeches, they are all dismissed and the girls are gathered up by their headmistress to leave. Amanda pulls a pen from her bag and snatches a napkin up from their table. She scribbles on it and hands it to Blaine.
"If you aren't busy this weekend," she looks shyly up at him, "you should call me. Maybe we could see a movie or something."
Blaine gapes at her, looks down at the napkin in his hand. He swallows hard, "Yeah. Yeah, okay."
"Okay, good," she nods once, beaming at him, "Bye, Blaine."
"Bye," he breathes out, still staring at her number. The girls leave and all the boys at Blaine's table lean in his direction.
"Dude, you got a number!"
"You're going to call her right? If you aren't, can I?"
"Way to go, man!"
Blaine looks up at them, the awed looks on their faces. They are looking at Blaine like he is some sort of god.
I just got asked out by a girl.
Cooper is late picking him up that day, but he doesn't notice. He sits on the usual bench, his bag in his lap, feet freezing in the slush and breath fogging up the air. His fingers are numb, but he can feel the soft edges of the napkin.
As soon as the boys had surrounded Blaine, he forgot to be scared, didn't instinctively curl in on himself. They were patting him on the back, laughing and smiling at him, iwith/ihim. It isn't something he ever remembers experiencing from anyone other than Cooper - that easy acceptance.
"Sorry I'm late!" Cooper's voice shakes him out of his thoughts. He pockets Amanda's number and climbs into the car, sticking his hands directly in front of the heating vents, not looking at his brother.
Dinner, as usual, is quiet. Blaine scratches absently at his cast, trying to dig the handle of his fork under the plaster to reach the itch.
"Blaine," his father says in that voice that says stop right now. It's only by pure instinct that Blaine listens.
"Sorry."
"So," his mother starts, "You boys have plans this weekend?"
He and Cooper look at each other.
"I might hit up an OSU game," Cooper shrugs. "We're playing Texas this weekend."
Blaine feels his face flushing red. He'd called Amanda earlier that night to set up their Saturday plans.
"What about you, Blaine? Plans?"
He pushes his food around the plate, "I um - I have a date actually."
He is met with stunned silence.
"No kidding!" Cooper exclaims. "Who is he? He goes to Dalton right? Come on, spill!"
He doesn't look up, can't meet anyone's eyes.
"No, um. Actually she goes to Crawford."
That even gets his dad's attention. "She?"
"Yeah. Her name's Amanda. There was a new student assembly and the new girls from Crawford came and-"
"That's bullshit."
Blaine looks up at Cooper, who is staring daggers into Blaine.
"What?"
"You're dating a girl?"
Blaine nods, looking back down at his plate.
"You're gay."
Blaine nods again. "Yeah, I know," he says quietly. His cheeks haven't stopped burning.
"So why are you going out with a girl?" Cooper demands.
"Why are you upset? I know I'm gay, Coop, but..." he trails off, not sure how to finish the thought, how to explain that the first time he's been accepted by a group of guys was when a girl was asking him out. How to put that feeling into words.
Cooper slumps back into his seat, realization dawning on his face. "You aren't out at Dalton."
It isn't a question.
Blaine shakes his head, biting his lip. He stares at his lap, the disappointment dripping from Cooper's voice ripping Blaine into pieces. He can feel himself starting to shake, hot tears pricking behind his eyes.
"Blaine, Dalton is the one place you can come out and be safe," Cooper starts.
"We thought New Albany High was safe," Blaine murmurs.
"No, Blaine," he shakes his head. "No. Okay? If those kids have a problem with you being gay then it's their problem, not yours."
He finally looks up at Cooper, "They kind of made it my problem when they knocked the crap out of me with a bat, Coop."
Cooper just shakes his head, pulling the napkin from his lap and throwing it onto the table.
"You need to be you. And stop lying to yourself."
Blaine looks to his mom for help, but she just looks stunned. He turns back to his lap, "It doesn't matter, Cooper," he is fully shaking now, voice shuddering trying to keep his emotions in check.
"It's bullshit."
"Cooper." Their father finally interjects, in the voice. "That's enough."
Cooper pushes his chair back from the table. "You've always been proud of who you are. And I've never been so disappointed in you, Blaine."
He walks out of the dining room, shaking his head. Tears fall freely over Blaine's face as he picks up his fork and pushes his food around, any appetite he once had now long gone.
"Blaine, honey," his mom starts. "You know we just want you to be happy."
He nods, barely contained sobs threatening to break through. "Can I be excused?" he sniffs, voice high and tight.
"Yes," his mother says quietly, sadly.
He stands, wiping his face, and walks out onto the cold porch swing, curling up and finally letting out his tears.
He isn't sure how long he lays there, only that most of his body has gone numb with cold and the overwhelming sadness mixed with anger at himself and at the boys who hurt him. Anger at Cooper.
He doesn't understand Cooper, understand why it matters so much that he isn't out. The people who matter, Cooper, his parents, they know. Dalton was supposed to be his fresh start, his chance for a do-over, and if he comes out now, he may as well have stayed at New Albany High.
He remembers the feeling when he'd gone back to clean out his locker, the sneer on Carter's face when he saw them. The pointing and whispering by people he'd once considered friends, before they all started avoiding him like he'd been contagious. How the only person who understood how he felt hadn't contacted him since that night.
The note he'd found in his locker, he'd pulling it out, hoping it was from Kyle, explaining why he'd left Blaine there, why he hadn't gone for help. But it was a simple sentence in girly handwriting, I hope you're okay –Carrie. He had pulled out his yearbook to find girls named Carrie and had stumbled upon her, the girl whose mother had found him in the parking lot, bloody and beaten. She was the only one who'd reached out and shown concern. He wonders if she had really been so affected by that night; she'd had to deliver the news to Cooper, watched helplessly as the paramedics loaded him into the ambulance and rushed off into the night.
He starts when something warm is pulled over him. He opens his swollen eyes and sees Cooper squatting next to him tucking the blanket over Blaine's shoulders. Blaine grabs it and pulls it up over his face.
"What? What do you want?" He sniffs, fresh tears over his face.
"Can I sit down?" Cooper's voice is quiet, somber.
Blaine sighs and pushes himself upright, pulling the blanket tighter. Cooper sits next to him and immediately wraps an arm around his shoulders, tugging him close. Blaine turns to sit sideways against the back of the swing and tucks his cold toes under Cooper's thigh. He wraps his arms around Cooper, burying his face into his coat.
"I'm scared," he cries. "I'm scared, Cooper."
"I know," Cooper says, pressing his face into Blaine's hair, rubbing him thumb over his shoulder. "I know. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. It's always going to be your choice to tell whoever you want to tell, Blaine. I'm so sorry."
"I just- I don't want to be the gay kid," his voice cracks and Cooper tightens his hold. "I just want to be Blaine. It's been so long since I've just been Blaine." He is quiet for a second, says hesitantly, "I thought I was going to die that night."
Cooper doesn't say anything but wraps his other arm around him, enveloping him in warmth. Blaine's crying settles and they sit together in silence, Cooper rocking the swing slightly with his feet on the porch.
"Did Mom tell you to come out here?"
"No," Cooper answers too quickly. Blaine looks up at him. "Yes."
She knocks lightly on his bedroom door.
"What?" Cooper grumbles, pulling open the door and looking down at his mom.
"That was a little harsh, don't you think, Cooper?"
He throws his hands in the air and turns back into his room, "What do you want from me? He's going out with a girl, lying to everyone at school-"
"So what?" She asks sternly. "So. What? He came out to us before he came out to New Albany; why is it any different now?"
Cooper presses his lips together in a tight line, stares at her, thinking.
"Blaine... Blaine's been through the wringer these past few months, Coop. If he can find one thing that makes him even a little bit happy, isn't that worth looking the other way for a while?"
Cooper sighs in defeat.
"And telling him you're disappointed?" Now she sounds disappointed herself. "You're his hero, Coop. He looks up to you for everything," she shrugs, "You know that."
She brings a hand up to Cooper's cheek as he stares down at his feet, chewing on his lip.
"Don't abuse that power he gives you."
He looks up at her at that, and nods. "Where is he?"
"Out on the swing."
He leans down and kisses her on the cheek. "Okay." He grabs a spare blanket from the hall closet and goes to find his brother.
Blaine's eyelids grow heavy, he feels himself starting to drift off, pressed into Cooper's warmth, his hand rubbing over the back of Blaine's neck lightly.
"Coop?"
"Hmm?"
"It's freezing."
Cooper huffs out a laugh, "Yeah. It really is."
Neither of them move, content and comfortable together.
"Coop?"
"Yeah, Blaine."
"It's like, really freezing."
Cooper laughs again, "Okay, okay. Let's go inside." He stretches, legs out straight, arms high over his head, bringing it back down around his brother. Blaine stands, the blanket still around his shoulders. "We okay, Blainers?" Cooper asks uncertainly.
Blaine looks at him, eyebrows drawn in. "As long as you never call me Blainers again."
Cooper smiles down at him, "Deal."
They walk into the kitchen where their mother is waiting with two mugs of hot chocolate. Blaine almost loses his breath with the memories that flood through his mind. He plops into a stool wrapping his hands around the warm mug, face over the lip, breathing in the scent of chocolate and peppermint.
The three drink in silence. Their mother rinses out her mug, setting it in the sink. She steps up to Cooper and lays a kiss on the top of his head. Over to Blaine, a kiss on his forehead, her hand on the back of his head, lightly scratching through his hair.
"Good night, boys."
"Night, Mom," they chorus. Once she is upstairs, Blaine drains his mug and places it in the sink next to his mother's.
"Night, Coop," he yawns.
"Night, Blaine."
He steps toward the stairs, but turns back when Cooper calls his name again.
"Did you need a ride?"
Blaine raises an eyebrow. "When?"
"For your date."
A slow smile spreads over Blaine's face. "Yeah. Yeah, that would be good. Thanks."
Cooper just nods, smiling into his mug and waving him off.
