A student office aide came to Dave's U.S. History class in the middle of a lecture. The girl – who had to be a freshman with that wide-eyed, intimidated look – sidled in while Mr. Bell was striding up and down the rows of desks, gesturing wildly as he told the class about the monumental disaster known as the Prohibition Era. She stood right at the doorway, waiting for Bell to notice her.

Chang, sprawled out in the desk closest to the aide, took pity. "He's not going to notice you're there," he told her, so quietly that Dave, who was a seat behind him, could hardly hear him. "He gets kind of into his lectures. Just hand over the hall pass and I'll make sure it gets to the right person."

The girl gave him a skeptical look, but surrendered the hall pass anyway, all but shoving it in Chang's hand and running out the door. The students who had noticed the exchange snickered, and Chang twisted around in his seat with a look of nostalgic amusement.

"Ahh, freshman year," he sighed, "that magical time of your life when upperclassmen are both terrifying and godlike. How I miss it." He held out the hall pass to Dave. "Miss Pillsbury wants you right now, by the way."

"Thanks." Dave quickly stuffed his binder and history book into his backpack and stood.

Mr. Bell glanced at him with vague disinterest as he continued to expound upon the 'strange bedfellows' who had thrown their support behind the Eighteenth Amendment. Dave held up his hall pass, and his teacher nodded dismissively.

The door to Miss Pillsbury's office was wide open when Dave got there, and the counselor had her nose buried in a file folder with "Karofsky, D." written across the tab. Dave knocked on the door frame to get her attention.

"Miss Pillsbury? You, uh, you wanted to see me?"

She looked up from the folder and smiled at him kindly. "Yes! Yes, of course, come in. Have a seat."

He settled into the seat across from her desk and waited for her to clue him in as to why he was there. He had an idea – he wasn't an idiot – but he'd thought she'd given up on getting him to talk about his feelings after he got two weeks' worth of detentions for fighting last year and refused to explain himself to her.

Miss Pillsbury folded her hands neatly on her desk and looked at him seriously. "I wanted to check in with you and see if you were doing alright."

"Fine," Dave said reservedly.

"No one is giving you a hard time about coming out on Wednesday, are they?" she asked. "I know that Kurt Hummel hasn't had an easy time being openly gay here at McKinley."

"No, really," Dave said. "It's been okay. I guess – I mean, it seems like the guys are okay with me being gay because I'm a jock, you know? Things are kind of weird in the locker room, but it's not as bad as I thought it was going to be."

Miss Pillsbury nodded in understanding. "I see."

"No, you don't," Dave told her. "It sucks. I – look, I used to bully Kurt."

"I suspected that that was the case," Miss Pillsbury said sadly.

"Then why didn't anyone stop me?" Dave asked, frustrated. "Why didn't someone, I don't know, call my parents or suspend me or something? Why didn't anyone help Kurt?"

Miss Pillsbury's normally sweet face darkened with anger. "William McKinley High School has rules against teachers and staff taking sides about 'controversial' topics like protection for LGBT students at the school. Punishing students for bullying their gay, lesbian, bisexual, or transgender classmates is taken as a violation of those rules."

"But that's not right," Dave said. "When you don't take sides, it's like you're saying to bullies that you think it's okay, or not a big deal."

"Don't think that I'm not entirely aware of the enormity of McKinley's bullying policy problem," Miss Pillsbury said. "But until the policy changes, all I can do is keep doing what I have been doing – offering my office as a safe haven to students who are the victims of bullying."

"It's not good enough," Dave argued.

"I agree," Miss Pillsbury said. "Now, I promise we'll come back to this, but I wanted to circle back around to what you were saying about how you used to bully Kurt."

"Right. I used to bully Kurt," Dave said again, "but it wasn't because he's into fashion and musicals and shit like that. I did it because I was jealous that he was so honest and open about who he was, and I didn't think I could have that. And now I'm out, and I'm trying to be better, and I thought maybe it – the bullying – would stop, but it hasn't."

"Kurt is still being harassed for his sexual orientation?" Miss Pillsbury asked.

"Not, like, shoved around or anything," Dave said, "but the guys…well, they say stuff about him. And it sucks, you know, because he's gotta be a hundred times braver than them – he's way braver than me – but they talk shit about him being a girl or a cross-dresser or whatever, and it's like, what the hell's wrong with them?" He stopped and gave her an apologetic look. "Sorry for swearing, Miss P."

Miss Pillsbury looked concerned. "Are all the boys on the football team behaving this way?"

"No. Evans keeps his opinions to himself, Rashad seems pretty okay with Kurt, and Azimio's not saying anything – not anymore, anyway. It seems to bother Hudson, but he's a wimp when it comes to standing up to his bros." Dave mentally ticked off his teammates' names – White is okay, Beaumont is a prick, Girardi is a prick, Epstein is okay, Levitt is okay, McCarthy is a jackass, Tucker can go to hell, Sullivan is a prick, Gallagher is a prick, Satz is a douchebag, and Freshman and JV players don't matter. "Oh, and Chang is cool. He told off a couple of guys for being jerks about Kurt."

"Good," Miss Pillsbury said with a satisfied smile. "I had hoped that my chat with him about offensive slurs and gay rights would bear fruit."

"Miss P.," Dave said sincerely, "you're really, really awesome."

Miss Pillsbury blushed. "Well, thank you, David." She straightened the already straight stack of folders on her desk, flustered. "Do you think it would help if I talked to the boys who were causing trouble?"

Dave shook his head. "Not really. I mean, Puckerman won't give a cr – a crud, and Abrams probably won't get the point. And if you talk to them about the homophobia thing, you'll have to talk to them about the sexism thing, and they really won't get what's wrong with that. And it might make things worse for Kurt – and for me."

"You seem to care a great deal for Kurt," Miss Pillsbury said. Dave shrugged, and she smiled. "It's not a bad thing, David. I think it's very good that the two of you are able to overcome your history and support one another."

"I guess," Dave said. Yes. It's the greatest thing ever. He's wonderful.

"However," she continued, "I would strongly caution you against pursuing a romantic relationship with Kurt right now."

Figures. "Why?"

"Until just recently, you were one of Kurt's chief tormentors here at school," she said. "And while it's fantastic that you two are mending fences, I feel that it would be very unhealthy for both of you to begin dating while the wounds of your previous interactions are still so fresh."

"But I like him," Dave protested. "And I said I was sorry, and he forgave me. Doesn't that matter?"

"Of course it does," Miss Pillsbury assured him. "But let me put it to you this way. There is a girl in your grade who was the victim of very vicious bullying from some of her female classmates last year. One girl in particular was especially cruel, calling her things like 'man hands' and 'treasure trail,' and telling her she should get herself sterilized."

This had to be about Hudson's girlfriend and Quinn Fabray. Quinn's vendetta against Rachel Berry had been legendary last year. "That's horrible," Dave said.

"Yes it is," Miss Pillsbury said. "Now, imagine if the bully came to her victim and told her that she didn't really mean all those awful things she said, and that she actually had something of a crush on her. What would your advice be to the girl who was bullied?"

"Not to go out with her," Dave said immediately. Oh. I get it. "To, uh, hold off on anything like going out, because she needs to figure out if the girl who bullied her really did change, and to take as much time as she needs to get used to the new situation."

"Very good," Miss Pillsbury said approvingly. "That is exactly the kind of advice I would give the bullied girl in this scenario."

"But I can be friends with Kurt, right?" Dave asked. "That's okay, isn't it?"

"I certainly hope that you can build a friendship together," she said. "I think both of you could use the support. And speaking of which, I was approached by a student yesterday about the possibility of starting up a Gay-Straight Alliance here at McKinley. Would you be interested in joining such a club?"

"I dunno," Dave said. "Wouldn't that just paint bigger targets on anyone who joined? If it's gonna cause problems, then it would be easier to just keep my head down and wait for people to forget about the whole me-coming-out thing?"

"It might be easier," Miss Pillsbury said, "but that doesn't make it the better option. I won't tell you to join the GSA, David, but I do suggest you think about doing so. A support group for LGBTQ teens would certainly help bullying victims feel less alone at school."

"I will," Dave told her.

"Good. Now, I just had one more thing to talk about with you," Miss Pillsbury said. "Your mother called the school this morning to let us know that any official school correspondence was to be sent to Kurt Hummel's address, and I wanted to confirm with you that you were, in fact, staying with the Hummels."

"She did?" Dave felt the last remnants of his desperate hope for his parents to change their minds slip away at her words. "I mean, yeah, I'm living with Kurt."

"If you ever feel like talking to someone, my door will always be open to you," Miss Pillsbury said. "It doesn't matter if it's about your parents, Kurt, your classes, your teammates, or anything else. I just want you to know that you have one more adult you can count on to be there for you."

"Thanks, Miss P.," Dave said. "You really are awesome."

She smiled again and glanced up at the clock. "I didn't even hear the bell ring," she remarked. "Do you need a pass for your sixth period class?"

"I have a free period," Dave told her. "I'm gonna go to the library to knock out some homework."

"Take care, David," Miss Pillsbury said kindly as he stood to leave. "And please do think about joining the GSA."

TEAOMAL

Anthony Rashad caught up with Dave in the hallway after the final bell rang. "Dude!" he said brightly. "What is up? Having a good day? Nice work at practice yesterday, by the way. Is that a new shirt? New haircut? Looking sharp, man. You know you're my favorite teammate, right?"

"What do you want, Anthony?" Dave asked, amused.

Rashad clutched his chest dramatically. "Why so suspicious, man? Can't a guy give another guy over the top compliments without wanting something from him?"

"I don't know about that," Dave said, "but when it's you? No. What do you want?"

His teammate draped an arm around his shoulders and leaned in conspiratorially. "You know Kurt Hummel, right?"

"Yup," Dave said. "But let me stop you right there. Whatever you want with Kurt better be good, because if you mess with him I will fuck your shit up."

"Not where I was going with this," Rashad assured him. "Kurt Hummel has this friend, Mercedes Jones. That chick is fierce. I know you don't do girls, man, but even a gay guy has to admit that she's bangin'. And I was wondering if you'd put in a good word for me with Hummel so that he might be willing to set me up on a date with her."

Dave snickered and looked down the hall a ways. Kurt was standing by his locker chatting animatedly with Mercedes. "Ask him yourself," he said.

"Oh, hell no," Rashad said.

Dave cupped his hands around his mouth. "Kurt!" he called.

Kurt and Mercedes broke off from their conversation and looked up. "You're an asshole," Rashad hissed in his ear.

"You'll thank me later," Dave told him smugly.

"Yes?" Kurt asked expectantly as they approached his locker. "What can I do for you, gentlemen?"

Rashad just stared at Mercedes, tongue-tied and embarrassed. Mercedes, in turn, was staring Dave down coldly.

"Kurt, Mercedes, this is my buddy Anthony," Dave said. "Anthony has something he wants to say. Don't you?"

"I…what? Yeah," Rashad mumbled.

"Anthony here thinks you're really pretty," Dave told Mercedes.

"Fierce," Rashad said reverently.

"Bangin'," Dave confirmed. "It would make him really happy if you'd go on a date with him sometime."

Mercedes sniffed, unimpressed. "And why should I date someone who's a friend of yours?" she asked witheringly.

"To be fair, Anthony's never given us any trouble," Kurt pointed out. "We can't really hold him accountable for his socially maladjusted counterparts' behavior."

"I don't suppose you know anything about music or fashion," Mercedes said to Rashad. "It really would be too much to hope for."

"That's a Charlotte Ronson skirt, a Ben Sherman top, and Betsey Johnson boots," Rashad said. At Mercedes' look of surprise, he grinned. "I have three older sisters who talk about nothing but clothes."

Mercedes looked reluctantly impressed. "Alright," she said decisively. "You can come bowling with us on Sunday. Six-thirty work for you?"

"Us?"

"Tina, Kurt, Mike and me," Mercedes elaborated. She gave Dave a sidelong glance and added grudgingly, "You too, I guess."

"Gee, thanks," Dave said.

"You have no room to complain about anything," Mercedes told him. "I don't like you. I am completely justified in not liking you. You want me to like you? Prove you're worth forgiving. Otherwise, you're just another self-important jock who thinks 'turning over a new leaf' means pretending you never did anything wrong and that everyone should just forget anything ever happened."

"Okay!" Kurt interjected hastily. "Anthony, it's nice to meet you. I look forward to kicking your butt at bowling on Sunday. Mercedes, stop browbeating Dave. I love you dearly, but if anyone gets to decide whether or not to forgive him, it's me, and I say he's forgiven. Dave, are you ready to head home, or do you need anything from your locker?"

"I'm good," Dave said.

"Why's he going home with you?" Mercedes asked.

"Long story," Kurt said. "See you Sunday?"

"Sure," she said, giving Kurt a brief hug. She crooked her finger at Rashad imperiously. "You can walk me to my locker."

Rashad grinned. "My pleasure, gorgeous."

"Your privilege," she corrected teasingly, and they strolled off arm in arm down the hall.

Kurt and Dave walked off in the opposite direction. "Oh, sweet baby Shiva, it's Friday," Kurt groaned. "I can't believe I forgot to tell you. Finn and Carole are coming to dinner tonight."

"Is it a family thing?" Dave asked. "Should I go over to someone else's place for the evening?"

"Yes to the first, no to the second," Kurt said. "Besides, you can't leave me to watch Twenty-Eight Days Later with Finn. I can't cling to him during the scary parts – he gets all weirded out about being touched by gay guys."

Dave frowned. "Are you guys okay? I mean, it seems like sometimes he's totally cool with you, and other times he's all twitchy and freaked out over you."

"It's kind of my fault," Kurt said as they stepped through the doors and into the outdoors. "I had a pretty big crush on him last year – I misinterpreted his holding my jacket for me before I got thrown into the dumpster as a sign that he cared about me." He held up a hand, forestalling Dave's response. "You don't have to say it. Just because he wasn't as bad as some bullies doesn't mean he wasn't a bully. I know this now."

"So what happened?" Dave asked.

"I played yenta and introduced my dad to his mother because I misguidedly thought that it would bring us closer together," Kurt said candidly. "And it did – disastrously so. He let me know in pretty unambiguous terms just how uncomfortable he was with the idea of sharing a room with him. Needless to say, he killed my crush on him pretty quickly. So now we just make nice, and I try not to inadvertently offend him or make him uncomfortable."

"That's pretty shitty of him," Dave said.

Kurt shook his head. "Not really. I mean, I get how being the object of the resident gay kid's affection could be creepy," he said bitterly.

Dave grabbed Kurt's elbow and stopped him before he could get into the car. "Hey. Don't – don't say stuff like that. I'm trying to get that kind of bullshit out of my head. You don't need to go putting it in yours. Besides, it was always a huge ego boost for Hudson when girls got crushes on him. You being a guy shouldn't have been any different to him."

Kurt looked at him, startled. After a long moment, he began to smile. "I like this side of you, Dave," he said, and gently pulled his arm from Dave's grip. "You should let it out more often."

"I think so, too," Dave said, and he smiled back hesitantly.

As they joined the line of cars waiting to leave the campus, a thought struck Dave. "So, hypothetically – am I saying that right?"

Kurt nodded and drove forward another three feet.

"Hypothetically, if there was a Gay-Straight Alliance at McKinley, would you join?"

"In a heartbeat," Kurt replied. "How about you?"

"I'm game if you are," Dave said.

Kurt gave him another dazzling Kurt Hummel smile, and Dave's heart skipped a beat. "We never really knew you, did we?"

"I guess not," Dave said. But he'd make sure that Kurt got the chance to really get to know him. It didn't matter if it took forever. He'd prove to Kurt that he was someone worth knowing.

He would.