June 15th, 2009
"I'm straight. Not gay. I like tits, not dicks…" the same words incessantly pouring out of Noah Puckermans mouth. His breath stuttered as he ran down the school hallways in search of someone. Three of his football friends trailing after him like puppies. None of them able to hear the breathy huffs coming out of Noah's mouth.
"Where are you? Your dead, you're dead," he kept muttering until he heard water running in the nearest bathroom. Noah turned around, and all three of the football player nodded. They all tumbled into the bathroom to see a short boy with brown curls sticking out all over the place hunched over the sink coddling his nose. Tears of blood were dripped all over the sink from the red running along the boys chin. His chest thumping from breaths of exertions.
"Hey fag, what was that back there?"
"Why the fuck were you trying to convince us that our boy, Puck here, kissed you?" two husky deep voices boomed from behind Noah. He felt a clap on his back, and his legs shaking violently like they were having a seizure. That's because I did kiss him, Noah thought. I did. Shaking his head, Noah scrambled those thoughts away like cats faced with water. He was straight, so he couldn't have kissed a boy. After a breath, that shook violently, Noah took a step towards the boy. His legs still quivering. The boy finally looked up, and his eyes were pleading. Shining in the light form the un-shed tears that gathered in there. I'm sorry, Noah thought. I'm sorry.
"Yeah, Blaine. Why the fuck are you telling lies?" Noah said, nervously.
"I-I'm sorry." He replied while swallowing thickly.
"Well, not as sorry as your gonna be," Noah growled with a sneer on his face. Easily slipping into his mask of a bad ass. Blaine just closed his eyes in defeat. I'm so sorry.
"Get him!" One of the voices of the previous football players hollered.
Four pairs of hands grabbed onto the limbs of their victim effortlessly dragging him out to the nearest exit. The sun long gone into the dark of the night, as it rained. Drops falling hard into the concert making splashes alongside pools of blood. Noah throwing his fist into Blaine's face, stomach anywhere he could reach, as his friends held Blaine down. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. It would have so much easier if Blaine's eyes weren't open staring down into Noah's. Lifeless. After Blaine finally fell down to his knees with an echoing crack that puckered up Noah's face, he kicked him once in the stomach. "We should go before someone finds us," Puck yelled into the rain.
"Nah, its fine no one's gonna come looking for 'em."
"No, we have to go now. The dance is almost over, and I wouldn't mind dancing with my date one last time to maybe get laid tonight. Plus, I need to wash all this blood off," Pucks voice wavered on the word blood. He looked down to see Blaine limping and grunted bathing in a pool of his own blood. Noah's mouth started watering, as his stomach all of a sudden flipped. After all the football players nodded, Noah bolted down to find the nearest bathroom; he dropped to his knees in to meet face-to-face with a toilet. He gagged, but nothing came up. I'm sorry, Blaine.
In the gym, at the same time, Sam had his hand on Emma Wentworth's waist. He and the girl had been flirting for a few weeks before the dance, and when she was the first one to ask, Sam obviously had to say yes. She did have one of the biggest pair of boobs in the whole school. Her dirty blonde hair fell perfectly at her collar bone. Considered one of the tallest girls in the school, she was still one inch shorter than Sam. Her strapless greyed blue dress cut off mid-thigh mirroring the big eye on her face. Smirking while she leaned forward, lips barely touching Sam's ears, she whispered, "Want to blow this place?"
"W-what?" Sam stuttered back without a breath.
"My parents are gone… we can experiment," the last word said as if a sin. Sam nodded dumbly feeling as a rush of cool air touched his ear after the Emma's breathe was gone. Her smirk grew across her whole face, and gripped Sam's hand hard dragging him out of the gym. While on their way out, he saw four kids on his football team walk in. Mark, Karofsky and Johnny looking fine, a hint of a smile even lingering on their faces, but Puck. He did not look okay. In fact, he looked sick. Sam just shook it off, and mirrored the smirk on the place of Emma's face.
After a few minutes had passed, Blaine was finally done spitting out the blood from his mouth. The sound of feet splashing in the water while running away still echoed in his head. Everything was spinning. After every attempt to stand up, Blaine stumbled back on the ground; head throbbing with a dull ache. He couldn't get centred. He needed to throw up. He didn't know where he was. He couldn't see anything but black. He passed out about ten feet away from the dumpster the footballs player attacked him. A trail of red slowly being washed away from the rain.
Sam was having the time of his life. A doped smile was permanently stapled upon his face, as a warmth swallowed his dick. Everything, except the feeling of pleasure, scattered away like thieve in the light of a police car. God, for her first blow job, Emma was so fucking fine at it. Later, he returned the favor. Not really knowing what do to, but eager to please after hearing sounds of pleasure spilling from Emma's mouth. Her hands digging into the white bed spread upon the queen sized bed. Hanging open, Emma's mouth was red. After the experiment, Sam peaked his head over Emma's shoulder that glistened in the light from sweat. His eyes grew wide as if being pumped with air. The clock read: 12:37am. Un-wrapping his arms from Emma's middle he mumbled a goodbye, and ran out. He biked back home his legs pumping through the ache the entire time.
Blaine eyes lazily blinked open. His head throbbed, still. The sound of silence hung in the air, for the sky was no longer spitting rain, and the thump of muffled music was longer lingering from inside the gym. Blaine was able to stand up this time, and he stumbled his way through the dark to reach his house. No one was home, of course. Raye was probably with her boyfriend, Cooper was in LA and god only knows where his parents are. An almost full bottle of whiskey sat upon the counter isolated from everything else. Blaine snatched it, and ran out to the only place that makes him feel happy, content. That playground.
June 16th, 2009
"What?" Raye had gasped into the phone.
"He never showed up. He's not at home then?" Sam static voice crackled through the phone.
"No, god, our fucking good for nothing parents are on a goddamn business trip," Raye huffed trying to tame the beating her chest is getting from her heart.
"W-well where is he? I'm kind of freaking out over here, man."
Raye dropped the phone, as she scatter towards the door. It was creaking open. Raye was now regretting going to her boyfriend's dorm room last night. When she woke up at 6:37am to a worried text of Sam asking if Blaine was at home, her stomach dropped faster than the blanket around her waist, as she went on a search for her brother. A wave of dread hit her body, and never left. Now, that dread swallowed her entire body whole when she watched her brother walk into the room. Limping through the door, his face was dead. Emotionless. Red faded into brown was stained over his mouth, neck, suit and everywhere. A bruise surrounded his eye, and his lips was split into two.
"Blaine!" Raye choked out a gasp. "What- what happened?"
"I got beat up," he replied stoic; voice low.
"We need to get you to a hospital!"
"I'm fine."
"No you're not. Cleary not. Come on, Blainers," she demanded while dragging him out to her car. Her noise burned from the smell of whiskey, but she ignored it. "I'm going to call Sam, okay? He's also worried about you."
He just nodded from the passenger side of her car. He closed his eyes. Raye let a few tear slip out of the ducts of her eyes.
A mild concussion, two broken ribs, the rest severely bruised, multiple stitches needed to be done, an infected cut and a fractured finger were the only things wrong. Only. Sam's face cringed when the doctor said only. That's still way too much for a 14 year old to go through. Waiting beside him in the hard plastic chairs of the waiting room, Raye bounced her leg up and down. The same way she had the past 2 hours since Blaine had gone into surgery. Sam just sat eyes trained on the wall. Face melted into the same color of the crisp snow colored walls. He couldn't get his mind off of what happened. It was just a Sadie Hawkins dance. Blaine attended with Tina; one of his good girlfriends. When had the promise of the night turn into a threat, a nightmare? When did the beating happen? Where had it happened? Sam felt sick. Dreadful. Selfish. Guilty. Furious. Also, he felt emotionless. There was a tornado of emotions insides of him with no signs of stopping, and yet the eye of the storm seemed to swallow him. Finally a doctor came in, and said with same sympathy he probably uses with everyone, "Are you the family of Blaine Anderson?"
"Yes," Raye replied motioning to Sam, "I'm his sister, and this is his brother."
"Okay, he's still sleeping from the medicine. Good thing you brought him in. his ribs are in a bad state especially after all the walking he did after the fact of the injuries. You guys can come see him."
"Thank you, doctor," Raye said. Sam nodded dumbly stumbling behind the adults.
Before they had reached the door, the doctor asked, "Where are your parents?"
Raye swallowed down anger, "On a business trip… they should be back at some point. Don't worry, I did call them."
"Okay," the doctor nodded, "Come in. if he wakes up, call for a nurse, okay?"
"We will, doc."
The doctor's steps echoed down the busied hallway, and neither person moved. Both taking in the little boy lying in the hospital bed. Sam broke the silence by sighing, "This is my fault."
"No, god no, Sam. It's the idiots that beat him. It has nothing to do you," She emphasized.
"I should've been there. I should've noticed he was gone."
"No, it wasn't your job. No one is blaming you Sam."
"I am," he mumbled under his breathe.
June 17th, 2009
Today, Blaine had been released from the hospital. Sam watched him like a hawk all day, and he picked up a few things. Blaine's screwed up as if a lemon was shoved in his mouth if a sound was too loud. Also, he flinched when someone said sorry, and avoided people's touches. They had been sitting on Sam's couch when Sam had decided to bring something up.
"Dude, who did this to you because you know I will kill them, right?" Sam questioned.
"I told you," he sighed. "I don't remember."
"Bullshit, your just trying to protect someone or something," Sam crunched his eyebrows together. "I'm just trying to figure out why."
Blaine was frozen, and he was hesitant when he said again, "I don't remember, Sam, so drop it."
"I know when you're lying, Blaine."
"No you don't," he snapped back. "Anyways I've got to go. My dad's back, and my sister wants us to talk to him about something."
Sam just grumbled a goodbye. Blaine was lying. He always snapped, looked in on the floor and raised his eyebrows high when he was lying. All the signs were there. The one thing Sam couldn't figure is why exactly was lying? What is he gaining about lying?
June 18th 2009
It was a Monday morning full of mourning. Blaine was standing by his, now, empty locker. Carrying a box full of his school supplies, Blaine stumbled into Sam whose expression dripped hurt.
"Ugh," Blaine tried to gather his thoughts, but couldn't.
"Dude, what the hell are you doing?"
"Ugh," Blaine squeezed his eyes shut. Nothing was squeaked out. He couldn't.
"Are you leaving? Dude," Sam asked. Voice angered and laced with complete hurt.
Taking in a breath that should harder than an old washing machine, Blaine quietly mumbled "You have to realize that I couldn't be here anymore, Sam."
"Couldn't or wouldn't, Blaine, 'cause there's a big difference."
Not looking at Sam Blaine whispered, "Please don't."
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"D-Dalton," Blaine said voice thick and laced with tears.
"Dalton, what the hell dude! That's, like, two hours away. Isn't it a high school anyways?" Sam howled.
"They have a side that's grades 6 to 8, and the other side is a high school, I'm sorry Sam."
Sam crossed his arms, and growled, "If you were sorry you wouldn't leave me here all alone in Lima, with my issues."
"Find someone to help you, Sam. You're not alone because you've got an amazing family to help you," Blaine pleaded.
"Well, you could have told me you were going to switch schools instead of doing this, Jesus Christ, I'm never going to see you here at this school again," Sam's tone of voice melted into sorrow.
"I'm sorry."
"I'm hardly going to see you."
"I really am so sorry, Sam"
"Okay, just-just promise that you'll text me," Sam sighed rubbing his face with his hand.
"Yeah, of course I will. Your my best friend, and that's never going to change," Blaine for the first time today.
"Yeah," Sam swallowed, "Whatever… the bells going to go, and I have to go to class."
Blaine watched Sam's back vanish into a classroom, and he didn't let the tears building up in his eyes spill over until he reached his sisters car. She rubbed his back for an umpteenth minutes before driving towards Westerville. She didn't need to ask what had happened.
Once they pulled up in the parking lot of the old gorgeous building, they were introduced to the principle, and given a dorm room. Dalton was immense, and it smirked at Blaine daunting him. He just kept breathing, smiling and nodding along to what the principal had to say. His father had agreed to let Blaine go to Dalton academy not because of its no bullying policy, but because of the classes, and the fact it's an all-boys school. Apparently hanging out with girls was making Blaine Feminine. After his sister left with a lingering kiss on the cheek, Blaine was getting settled for the last few weeks of school in his dorm room which he would be rooming with a guy named Thad Harwood. He sounded nice enough. Good student, and was captain of the junior Warblers. It was a glee club that didn't do competition unlike the real warblers which the principal had described as pretty much local celebrities. Blaine looked at himself in the mirror, and just glared at the broken boy growling at him back. I'm fine. I'm okay. The door had shrieked as it was opened, and Blaine heart starting punching his chest repeatedly. Blaine's vision was blurred with Noah's face, and he felt ghosts of rain drops on his skin.
"Hey, you must be Blaine. I'm Thad," a voice from somewhere sounded strained. "Hey, are you okay?" A gentle hand on his shoulder forced him back to reality.
"Pardon," Blaine said after blinking.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. You don't need to worry about it."
"Okay," Thad sounded un-sure. "Anyways, I have a question…"
"Go for it," Blaine replied.
"Do you like Harry Potter?" He asked with a smile brighter than the sun, and that was the start of their budding friendship.
June 28th 2009
Dropping his final test in the basket at the front of the classroom, Blaine smiled. He was happy. He texted Sam every day since he left, but last night they had facetimed and made amends on what was a cracked relationship. Sam apologized about his outburst in the hallway, and for being so distant lately. Blaine had forgiven him with ease, and told Sam he was sorry for leaving so sudden. Sam still pushed about Blaine lying about who had attacked him. Blaine had admitted he was lying, and for Sam to please stop pushing him, so he did. Also, against Blaine's protests, Sam apologized for not being there for him during the dance.
Strutting down the hallway with an extra hop in his step, Blaine ran into Thad who had mirrored his grin.
"Someone's looking happy," He said.
"Someone's feeling happy," Blaine exclaimed.
Thad patted his shoulder, and he replied, "Good."
Authors note: sorry for the short chapter… got hit with writers block. Whoops.