Author's Note:
I've tried to post my Tumblr address to no avail at least twice, but I'm going to try once more. My Tumblr URL (username + tumblr) is the same as my username for this website = these words in quotes without the spaces "i rent a wicked apartment on avenue q" Feel free to stalk me or pester me to update :0)
In this final segment of chapter four (that's right, final segment of four), I'm going to try my hand at multiple points of view. Hopefully it translates well in the writing. If it doesn't, I sincerely apologize.
Please don't be alarmed/sad/pissed by anything that you might read in this chapter. Chapter 5 will be the turning of a new leaf. :0) I'm very excited about what's to come and hope that you will be too!
Disclaimer: I still own nothing other than my own thoughts that live inside of my own brain. :0D
Stephanie (lionphantom), this is for you.
Chapter 4 Part 4: Back to Black
For the first time in quite a while, Mr. Anderson seemed to be struggling to get through his own class. It wasn't that he was tired or even that the material he was teaching was less amusing than he had previously imagined. It issue at hand was the young boy sitting at the front of his classroom, one in the handful of students that actually seemed to be paying attention rather than doodling, daydreaming, or texting the period away.
At last, the bell rang and though Young Hummel had occasionally thrown a small smile his way as he taught the lesson, he was one of the first to shuffle out of the classroom. Trying to think nothing of it, especially since they had spent part of the morning together before coming to class, he went on about his day.
When it was time for lunch and Kurt didn't show, Mr. Anderson began getting nervous. Had he possibly crossed the line by having coffee with his student that morning? Could he have unknowingly stepped outside his bounds the first time he allowed Kurt to stay and chat, just the two of them alone in his classroom? Whatever the case, all he knew was that unless that kid showed up in the next fifteen minutes, he was going to be on edge for the rest of the day.
By the time three o'clock rolled around, Mr. Anderson had almost unnerved himself. "Surely he's coming," he thought. "Maybe he just got caught up with something. Maybe…maybe a teacher held him after class or he has a club meeting." Pacing lightly, the dapper professor decided it was best to do something constructive instead working a rut into the floor.
Sitting down at his desk, he shuffled a few loose papers into place and stuck them in a file folder, clipping them together before shoving them into his satchel. Still trying to kill time, he organized his desk at least a dozen times and then packed up the rest of his materials. 3:15pm and still no sign of Kurt. As he sat in his chair, nervously tapping his foot, he accepted the fact that he wasn't coming and decided it unwise to stay any later than he usually would. Gathering his things to leave, he headed out of his classroom, locked the door behind him, and took one last look down the hallway before heading out to the parking lot. As he stepped out into the sunlight, the entire student parking lot was in view. To his surprise, Kurt's SUV was nowhere in sight.
"Great…now I've really gone and done it," he thought. "I've been here less than a week and I've already managed to mess up…and with a student. What's wrong with me?" Walking to his car in a huff, he quickly pulled his key fob from his pocket. He had waited long enough and couldn't stand the thought of being there any longer. His breath was tight in his chest, almost as if his lungs were punishing him for his thoughts earlier in the day. As he got closer to his car, he noticed a small piece of paper tucked carefully underneath a wiper blade. Gently raising the blade, he removed the article, curious as to what it could be. Opening it up so that he could read what was inside, the dark haired man found himself surprised by its contents.
Sorry that I didn't come by during lunch. Rachel gave me a heads up about having a pop quiz in my next class. I want to finish our chat, but I can't this afternoon. Mercedes asked me to go shopping. She has a date this weekend and while her taste in clothing is fierce, she still needs a bit of help when it comes to accessorizing. Tomorrow, perhaps?
-K
P.S. You still owe me that shortbread.
Blaine got into his Audi and started the engine. "What the hell am I doing?" he said softly, shaking his head in disbelief. "WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING?" Holding onto the steering wheel, he convulsed slightly in an upset rage. The guilt and disappointment with his own self started to consume him. It couldn't happen. It wouldn't happen. It wasn't meant to be…or was it?
Over the next few days, Kurt spent every lunch in his classroom, talking about this and that, various interests and what they had in common and while it seemed innocent, Blaine knew that it wasn't. Slowly their body language was becoming different; more relaxed than it ever should be between a student and his teacher. In a way, Mr. Anderson could tell that Kurt had a little "thing" for him and he was beginning not to mind. Chaste little pokes of the finger from the boy were slowly becoming light touches on the arm and nudges of the shoulder. Their meetings seemed more like miniature dates than anything else and although he enjoyed it, he knew it was wrong. In the moment, he allowed it to happen, but as soon as it was over and Kurt had left the room, the guilt would begin to set in.
How could he do this, to himself and the doe-eyed boy who sat at the front of his class? How could he have let something so innocent turn into something more? No. Blaine refused to believe that their relationship was anymore than friendly. Though he'd be the first to admit to leading the boy on. One afternoon when he returned home, he had gone through the notecards he had handed out the first day of class. He did this with every class, getting names, phone numbers, emergency contacts, allergies, etc. along with strange or fun facts to help him remember each person. Glancing at Kurt's, there it was in purple ink on his card: his age.
Kurt was 17. 17. Mr. Anderson was 10 years his senior. While age was only an unimportant number to some, he knew that the school board wouldn't see it that way and neither would Kurt's parents. Kurt wasn't your average teenager. That was plain to see from the eye of any beholder. His level of maturity, his intellect, his sophistication, every part of him made him stand out from all the rest. In all his years of teaching, never before had he met someone quite like this rather remarkable boy.
A few days later, Kurt left the lunchroom early just as he usually had for the past couple of days to meet up for his daily chat with Blaine. However, today was different. He had a surprise for his charming teacher. After having a discussion in which shared their love for French folk music and cuisine, the young boy had had made him a small batch of madeleines and tucked them perfectly into a little tin with some tissue paper. Having forgotten to give them to him that morning after class, he made a small detour so that he could stop by his locker to pick them up.
Halfway down the hall and in the middle of a text message, he feels a sharp pain hit the left side of his body and before he can blink, he's shoved into the small metal doors to his right.
"WHAT THE FUCK, KURT? YOU PROMISED ME YOU WOULDN'T SAY ANYTHING!"
Kurt was in utter shock, still trying to process what had just happened and the attacker hovering above him. Once his vision became clear, to his surprise stood his former bully, Dave Karofsky.
"What are you talking about?" asked the young boy, frantically.
"You told. You swore that you wouldn't tell anybody about me, Kurt! About my secret! YOU SWORE!"
Everything was happening so fast. His head was spinning and parts of his body were still throbbing from being slammed into the lockers.
Though utterly confused, he tried to remain calm. "David, I don't know what you're talking about."
The larger boy pinned Kurt against the set of metal compartments behind him and banged his fist right above his head.
"The fuck you don't! Don't lie to me, Hummel! Why are the guys ragging on me, huh? Why did some assholes just call me a fag when I was in the cafeteria? All of this is your goddamn fault, Kurt. Tell me who you told."
Trembling beneath the football player he once thought was his friend, Kurt barely managed to get out a sentence above a whisper.
"I didn't tell anyone, David."
"THAT'S A LIE! FUCKING TELL ME WHO YOU TOLD!"
Suddenly, Kurt was enraged. This boy had not only scared him half to death, but he had also driven him away from the ones he loved. Now that he was back, he wasn't going to let that happen again. Kurt thought he had changed because he apologized for what he had done and knew deep down that David was still just as scared as he had been at first on the inside. He tried to help him embrace his sexuality and even got the boy to help him establish a chapter of PFLAG upon his return. However, now in the present, Kurt could see that the old David was still very much alive inside of this boy. It wasn't homophobia that drove his rage. Simply put, it was his fear. Be that as it may, Young Hummel didn't view the larger boy's fear as a logical explanation for pinning him against a locker.
Shoving David off of him, he shouted back. "I DIDN'T TELL A SOUL, DAVID. I SWEAR TO YOU!"
This only angered David more. "Why should I trust you, huh? Some stupid fairy. Some little fucking girl. Come on, answer me, buttboy!" he shouted, backing Kurt into the lockers.
Terrified of what was to come, Kurt stood helplessly as he watched David ball up a fist. Backed up against the lockers once more, he was trapped. As the giant reared back, everything that happened next seemed to unfold in slow motion.
As the huge ball of rage fell closer and closer to his face, he watched in disbelief as a strong hand grabbed hold of David's forearm.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" said a voice that was music to Kurt's ears.
It was Mr. Anderson. Kurt panted softly in relief, still shaken from the entire ordeal. David shot the dark haired gentleman a glare before softening his countenance.
"Nothing." said the larger boy, a slight hint of remorse in his voice.
"Well, it certainly looked like something to me," said the man, releasing the football player's forearm with a force that slung it down to his side.
David stood there silently, refusing to look either one of them in the eye.
"Go to the office. We're talking to Figgins. I'll be there in a minute. And I swear to God, if you think you're going to skip out on me, I'll make sure you don't play in any games for the rest of the season."
The now gentle giant glanced at Kurt, offering an unspoken apology, and was off to take a seat in the principal's office.
Carefully taking hold of Kurt's shoulders, Blaine leaned in slightly, still keeping an appropriate distance between them.
"Are you alright?" the man inquired softly.
Kurt barely nodded, but it was obvious that he wasn't. Visibly shaken with tears welling up in his eyes, he started to speak, but only a barely audible whimper made its way out. Wrapping a tender arm around him, Blaine walked the boy back to his classroom. Without giving it a second thought, he closed the door behind them.
Upon hearing the heavy door latch shut, the young boy threw himself into his professor's arms and let the floodgates open. It broke Blaine's heart to see him cry, much less feel the frail body in his arms shake as the tears rolled down Kurt's soft cheeks. In an effort to comfort him, he pulled the boy close and slowly began to rub his back. Once his sobs began to subside, the professor pressed a soft kiss into Kurt's hair, letting him know that he was still with him.
The delicate young man lifted his head, his eyes scintillating, bewitched and bewildered. Against his better judgment, Blaine moved one hand from the small of Kurt's back to his face so that he could gently cup his cheek. As his breath hitched in his chest, his hazel eyes darted all over the boy's face, and before he knew it he was leaning into him.
Their lips touched and it was if time had somehow managed to stand still. The charming professor kissed him softly for what was only a few seconds before gently pulling away, realizing what he had done. The poison pumped through his veins. He had done it. He had committed the ultimate evil and crossed the line. Hell, he was so far over the line that he couldn't even see it anymore. The young boy stood there with no expression other than surprise written all over his face as he slowly brought his hand to his own lips.
Blaine felt like all of the air was being sucked out of the room and was certain that if a hell existed that he had just turned his soul over to the devil for safekeeping. He kept waiting, praying that Kurt would say something, anything to let him know how grave of a mistake he had made, but alas…he said nothing.
Unable to deal with himself or look at his transgression any longer, he lightly pushed past Kurt, remembering that he had other things to deal with waiting for him in the principal's office.
Once he heard footsteps trailing down the hallway, Kurt glanced over his shoulder to watch Mr. Anderson walking away. As he turned back around, a small smile appeared on his face.
A couple of weeks rolled by and students found themselves facing one of the most brutal times of the year: parent/teacher conferences. For those who had excelled, it was an opportunity to be treated like a good puppy in front of mommy and daddy. For others, it was like willingly taking a step in front of a firing squad. Things hadn't changed in the classroom for Kurt and Mr. Anderson, on a personal level, there had been a few changes. The dapper professor had suddenly become unavailable to the boy during lunch and after school and while his plan for avoiding him had been going quite well, parent/teacher conferences threw him for a loop. There was no way to get out of it. Seeing him was inevitable, as was meeting his parents.
He sat at his desk, tinkering away on the keys of his Macbook, working an assignment for next week's class. Glancing at the clock, he noted the time. 5:30. He distinctly remembered it because while he was only obligated to stay until six, the Hummel family had snagged his last appointment for the day. From the hallway, he heard a soft voice.
"This is it on the left, Dad…Mr. Anderson's room."
This was it. He was going to have to face the music. A million of things flooded his mind with worry as Kurt and his father stepped into the room. Still in his work clothes, Burt Hummel was a pretty intimidating looking man. Though he was rough around the edges, Blaine had no doubt that he had a kind heart. After all, he had raised Kurt.
"Hey there. Burt Hummel. You must be the Mr. Anderson my boy's always talking about," said Burt, greeting him with a warm smile as he extended his hand for Blaine to shake. "Thanks for meeting with us so late. I would have gotten here sooner, but I got stuck at the shop. Kurt's stepmom is with his brother talking to some math teacher about his grades, so it'll be just me and this kid right here."
Mr. Anderson glanced at Kurt before shaking his father's hand. "Nice to meet you, sir. Please, have a seat, won't you?" He motioned to the chairs seated perfectly in front of his desk and the man and his son were seated.
Blaine offered them both a smile and pulled up Kurt's grades.
"Your son is an amazing student. He's probably the shining star of my class, academically speaking. I only wish that I could have students who genuinely have a thirst for knowledge as your son does."
Burt smiled as Mr. Anderson showed him the grades in graph form.
"That's really great," the man said turning to his son to muss up his hair. "Proud of you, Kurt." The young boy laughed softly and made a face, always having been particular about his hair. "To be honest with you, I didn't come today to talk about his grades. I wanted to discuss something Kurt mentioned to me a couple weeks ago."
Blaine could feel the chunks slowly start to rise in his throat, terror washing over his body as his mind began to race. "Remain calm. Maybe he doesn't know. Maybe he won't kill you. Maybe he doesn't have a shotgun and a shovel out in the back of his truck. Maybe he did just come to talk. Goddammit…he knows. "
Trying to stay collected, Blaine leaned back slightly in his chair, but not before glancing in Kurt's direction with superhuman speed.
"Oh?" he asked, finding it better to play dumb than act as if he knew what was going on.
"Yeah," started Burt, throwing an arm around his boy. "Kurt told me what you did for him last week, how you stopped that Karofsky kid. It means a lot to me that you'd stand up for him like that. Still pisses me off that no one contacted me, though I can't say I'm surprised. No one in this school did a damn thing before we put him in that private school over in Westerville. Some of 'em still don't and when Kurt begged me to transfer back, I was more than a little hesitant to let him do it, but I feel better about it now, knowing that he's got at least on pair of eyes to watch his back…other than his brother's."
As the man continued to speak, Blaine found himself getting lost in the words. Kurt hadn't said anything to his father and while he felt relieved, he found himself wondering why. Soon he was shaking Burt Hummel's hand once more and the man and his son walked out of his classroom.
Upon reaching the exit to the Honors hall, Kurt stopped. "I forgot my iPhone. I'll be right back."
"Do you want me to come with you?" inquired his father.
"No, no. That's okay. You can bring the car around if you want. I'll only take a second."
Burt Hummel nodded, opening the door that lead back to the parking lot and went outside. Jogging carefully down the hallway, Kurt popped back into Mr. Anderson's classroom. Knowing he didn't have much time, he made his move quickly. Before his professor could comment on his coming back, the boy pressed a soft finger to the charmer's lips and gently kissed him on the cheek.
Stepping away slowly, he gazed into the man's eyes and smiled a sweet smile.
"You and I have a lot to talk about tomorrow during lunch, mister."
Kurt smirked as the dark haired gentleman gazed back, astonished by his actions. Leaning in, the brunette gave him a light peck on the lips before sashaying out the door.
As he walked down the hallway, Kurt wasn't sure what he had just initiated, but whatever it was, he knew he was in for something good.
A/N: I'm already hard at work on Chapter 5! Reviews are love, guys! :0)
