A/N: Just a reminder that this is canon up until NBK. So FURT and everything after did not happen. Thanks for reading, and any feedback would be appreciated.

Art of Deflection: Chapter 7

The school day started off wrong.

Not bad. Just wrong.

It was Monday morning and yet—there was no one at the dumpsters. Not a soul.

Correction. Not anyone with a soul.

"Hey, there Lady Face."

"Coach, what are you doing here?"

"This is a school. I'm a teacher… of sorts."

"No. I mean—what are you doing here? At the dumpsters."

"I could ask you the same thing, but I already know the answer, thanks to the anonymous tip I got this morning..."

"From who?" he asked before he could stop himself.

"Do you not get the concept of anonymous? I swear, Lady, your IQ points go down every minute you're in Schuester's pathetic little club. Come back to the Cheerios, before you're completely brain dead."

Kurt sighed, ignoring her jabs at Mr. Schue. "So you don't know who it was?"

Coach Sylvester smiled patiently at him. The unusual occurrence of both the smile and the patience unnerved him.

"Well, from the sound of the voice, I'd guess it was either a jock or Beiste before her coffee. As enjoyable as this is, I've got to go, Lady. The slurs on Schuester's bulletin boards don't just write themselves."

As Kurt watched her walk away, he wondered if Dave was the reason for his early morning reprieve, and just what the rest of the day would bring.

All day he felt uneasy. At least on Dumpster Dive Mondays after his morning throw in the garbage, the jocks left him alone. They had a system, and as happy he was at not getting his clothes ruined, now that system was interrupted. He was just waiting. Waiting for the other shoe to fall, or in this case, slushie to fall. There was something to be said for knowing when he was going to be harassed. This waiting was driving him crazy. And although he spotted Coach Sylvester hanging around him more than once, she couldn't be everywhere.

The weird feeling didn't go away; in fact it intensified as sat through his lunch, barely able to eat.

"Kurt, are you okay?" Rachel asked. He was impressed that she was able to pull herself away from her description of her morning routine (again!) to even notice his anxiety.

"Fantastic," he said dryly.

He also hadn't heard much from David. A cryptic text about them talking later was all he'd received, and it had done nothing to ease his nerves. He felt even less in control than normal.

So when he found himself suddenly steered toward the old science classroom after lunch, he could only stare nervously at the angry red jacket of his abductor.

And for a second he was reverted back to weeks earlier, and it felt like nothing had changed. The jocks, one in particular, pushing him around.

But when his eyes met Dave's, he remembered. The sadness, the regret, was there waiting. Things had definitely changed.

"Hey," Kurt said. His voice only a little shaky.

"Hey."

He wasn't sure why things were so awkward between them, but he wanted it to stop. He wanted things to go back to when they were attempting to be friends. And maybe even more.

"I missed you this morning."

"Really, Kurt?" His voice had an edge to it.

Okay maybe this wasn't right way to start.

"I said I missed you. Not the dumpster toss," he clarified. "Thank you, by the way. I know it was you."

Dave just looked more miserable. He was probably thinking more about his part in the bullying than his part in stopping the bullying. Typical. Kurt wasn't going to let him dwell on it.

"I've been thinking. A lot."

"Me, too," Dave said.

"I hope we're thinking the same thing … I really want to be a part of your life."

"I don't think we should do this anymore."

"Okay, not the same thing at all." Kurt felt like he'd been hit with an extra cold slushie. It washed over him, freezing his heart and numbing his mind. Was it really going to end here?

"I don't understand, Dave."

"Two weeks ago I was terrorizing you…"

"That's a little harsh…"

"Please let me talk."

"Fine," he said with a nod, not sure he wanted to hear any more.

"Two weeks, Kurt. And now what? We're friends? We should be together? That's insane."

"You're just scared."

"I was horrible to you."

"And now you're not, so it's okay…"

"It's not okay," Dave yelled. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "It will never be okay."

Kurt felt his eyes well up. Dave was right. It had only been two weeks. Why should he even care? But he knew why. He finally found someone he could relate to. Someone who understood. And now that person was pulling away.

"I don't want to lose you."

"Don't you get it?" Dave was crying now, and Kurt could no longer hold his own tears in. "You deserve better."

The bell rang, silencing them both. Dave's last statement hung in the air between them.

Kurt finally reached into his backpack and pulled out some tissues. The curse of having a sensitive emotional state was that he cried at the drop of a hat. He handed one to the jock.

"We need to talk more about this, Dave. "

"I don't."

Suddenly the fire was back, burning away the numbness, the sadness. How dare he?

"That's too bad, Karofsky," he said. "I'm done having people make decisions for me. You don't want to be with me? Fine. I can handle that. But don't say you're doing it for me, because you don't get to decide that. I have more to say, and you are going to listen to it."

"Okay," Dave said. He didn't look angry. Just resigned. And maybe a little amused.

"Can you meet me tonight?"

"Yeah. My mom and dad, and my sister, are going to a church thing. They stopped trying to get me to go a long time ago."

"Perfect," Kurt said. "Then your house it is."

"I don't think …"

"I'll be there at seven."

Before any further protest could come from the jock, Kurt turned and walked out the door with his head held high.

Things were going to get settled tonight. One way or another.