The slushy on Friday had blindsided him. Dave wasn't sure when Cooper had grown himself a pair of balls, but now that he had, he was attempting to tea-bag the whole school with them. He'd spared no one that day, from gleeks to cheerleaders. It seemed the only ones safe from Cooper's slushy rampage had been fellow hockey players, who - spurred by Cooper's display of authority - had in turn joined the sugar coated massacre.
Dave found out later that Hudson, Chang, and Rashad from the football team had been slushied. He'd also spotted Avery Herbach ushering a fellow soccer player to the bathroom as the boy shielded his eyes from the dripping blue goo.
Dave had thought he'd be spending the majority of the day cursing himself for bailing on Kurt and the movie, but honestly he hadn't had time to properly feel guilty. From the moment he'd left the bathroom, he found himself being used as barricade between the hockey team and the McKinley High student body at large. He honestly couldn't remember the last time he'd thrown that many bodies into lockers. His attempts at stopping the slushy facials often resulted in messes on the hallway floors or getting himself partially doused by default. In addition, hockey players took body hits much better than the footballers. They were use to being slammed into walls and despite Dave's size, hardly flinched.
And it didn't help that Dave had been slushied himself. He'd apparently been the first victim of the day. Kinda like a display of power, bringing down the muscle of the two founders of Bully Whips.
Cooper was waltzing around like he was invincible.
Dave's plan had been to follow Cooper after school and catch him off school grounds as he made his way to the ice rink. He'd be risking the chance of having to take on 2 or 3 guys, but Dave's adrenaline had been pumping since that bastard Mullen had grabbed onto Kurt's hair. Dave felt himself ticking. He was ready to explode.
But Santana hadn't been able to wait that long. She snapped at 7th period. Dave didn't see her punch Cooper, but he heard her screaming,
"Aléjate de Brittany! Te voy a matar, hijo de puta! No te acerques a ella otra vez!" Dave had rounded the corner just as she slipped out of Mercedes Jones' grip. He'd caught her before she got to Cooper again, and had to literally pick her up off the ground to drag her away.
"Santana, stop it!" Mercedes had bellowed beside him as he attempted to ignore the nails clawing into his left arm, which was hooked around Santana's waist. "Do you want to get expelled?" She'd asked. Santana didn't wanna hear it though.
"The choir room," Mercedes had said. Dave carted Santana all the way there, her heels making an awful screeching noise the whole time as they dragged across the floor. There, half the glee club was consoling Brittany over her first time being slushied.
"Suéltame, hijo de puta!" Dave had been honestly surprised Santana hadn't bitten him to free herself. She gave him a sideways glance. She was angry. So very angry.
But not at him.
"Brittany, lo siento mucho. Dios, me voy a matar a ese hijo de puta."
Dave really did know too much Spanish.
The whole school knew Santana had punched Cooper, so denying it wouldn't do her any good. Dave imagined this whole scenario left a bitter taste in the mouths of all those present as they attempted to come up with a plan before Figgins came down to fetch Santana for her punishment. He also found it incredibly strange as Tina, that little Asian girl, instructed him to sit as they discussed the situation. For that moment, their opinions of Dave Karofsky didn't matter, apparently.
He sat there between Mercedes Jones and Artie - fucking still oddly jealous of Artie - Abrams, as Rachel Berry paced the room. Brittany and Santana sat attached the hip and Quinn positioned herself nearby, legs crossed and shoulders squared.
"Finn says none of the teachers saw ye hit him." Dave still hadn't learned that exchange student's name, but he watched as the boy snapped his cell phone shut and gave Santana a hesitant smile. She glared back.
"That imbecile has been slushying people all day. Someone had to do something." Rachel said in an argumentative tone, tossing her hands out erratically.
"That's not going to do her any good in Figgins' office." It was weird how Quinn's even voice seemed to balance out Berry's.
"If no one saw what happened, maybe she could say he started it." Mercedes offered.
"He did start it." Rachel piped, casting a quick glance at Dave's slushy-stained tee. Kurt's earlier efforts had been in vain considering the day's proceedings.
"Well, how did you do it, Karofsky?" Quinn's voice was so icy, it sent a shiver up Dave's spine. He knew before he even turned his head he didn't want to look at her. He'd seen her cold stare before. He'd seen it directed at Finn, Puck, Rachel. He'd seen the contempt in her eyes and swore he felt a bitter breeze shutter his bones in passing. He didn't want to look, but he had to.
"What?" was all he managed. Her piercing hazel eyes were trained on him. Her perfect features still and unwavering. She tipped her head, just enough for a few strands of that perfect blond hair to shift.
"You bullied Kurt on a daily basis and got away with it. How'd you do it?" she rephrased. Dave watched her glossed lips move. He kind of expected there to be fangs under there...
"This situation is totally different," Santana snapped, her ponytail bouncing as she turned to glare at the former Cheerio. Honestly, Dave had kinda liked the pink hair...
"I'm just saying-"
"And he did get suspended, as I recall-"
"Ye bullied young Kurt?"
"-thought he could shed some light on how he got away with-"
"-tiene que dejar de hablar de cosas que no entiendo-"
"I lied." It was weird. A room had never quieted down when he'd spoken before. "Everyone in the room knew, but they couldn't prove it so...I got off with a warning." It was the truth. And everyone here, save the very confused exchange student, knew it. It wasn't like Dave had anything to hide on that front. For a moment, everyone was quiet, then Artie Abrams, Artie fucking Abrams, broke the trance,
"So say you thought you were gonna get slushied." He said, gloved hands tossed out casually as he shrugged, "You thought you were next on his list. So you panicked and accidentally hit him when he came toward you."
Santana was given a week's in-school suspension. She'd faked tears, told Figgins how Cooper had been attacking people all day. When the Glee club members and Bully Whips were questioned on the validity of her story, they confirmed, earning Cooper a night's detention on circumstantial grounds.
One night's detention.
Dave understood why the glee club wanted to punch him.
Dave didn't give the movie another thought until Saturday morning. Friday night he'd trucked up to his room before his mother could start her game of 20 questions, and crashed immediately, sugar coating still in his hair. But even as he awoke the next day, he realized then that he was so exhausted he hardly wanted to be fretting over it now. So he attempted to distract himself by diving into the Internet.
But, even the world wide web wasn't big enough to escape from himself. A tweet popped up on his dash from the actor Zachary Quinto, admittedly Dave's favorite of the two Star Trek stars. A crush that spawned from the short-lived fame of Heroes, as Syler. It was a blog post about his reactions to a young boy from Buffalo killing himself as a result of being tormented at school for his sexuality, and Zachary's need to be more of a vocal advocate and to represent those like him.
Dave had heard plenty about the kid. Jamey Rodemeyer. A number of celebrities had put a lot of weight onto his death. Dave had seen the video of Lady Gaga's song dedication to him, and had seen the tweets about him.
It made him wonder, looking back even just a few decades ago, during the civil right movement and others like it, what did it feel like then? To be fighting those political and social battles. To be making a stand when such powerful forces were pressing them down. To make that conscious decision when you know you might be shot down, or become a walking target to those around you that do not agree.
He wondered for those of that era who are still around, what did they see when they looked back? What did it feel like for them. Did the world look different? How did they see the issues we face today?
For him, and he imagined for many his age, it was like any other phase in history. People standing up for what they believed was right and the world being a better place for it. At least that seemed to be the American perspective. There were points during the movements, events that were the catalyst of change and growth. He wondered where Jamey Rodemeyer stood in all that. If his name would be remembered like we remember Rosa Parks and Martin Luther King Jr. If he'd be added to the list of those written in the history books like Fannie Lou Hamer, a Mississippi sharecropper who was beaten and jailed in 1962 for trying to register to vote.
He wondered if Jamey's name would be another beside Matthew Shepard's.
And he wondered how many names were forgotten. How many didn't get written down and future generations would never learn about. He wondered how many fell through the cracks even as this battle was happening. The ones that didn't get tweeted about and didn't get song dedications or blog posts.
People complain that homosexuality is being overused and pushed to the forefront of media attention as a marketing tool or something of those sorts. Dave didn't agree with that. If he ever were to be candid on the topic, he'd say there are just enough people now willing to speak up, and they are gathering the tools to do so. It was strange to Dave, because a part of him thought they might right now be in the midst of a movement themselves. Of a shift in society. Of a wind of change.
The way it's taught in school is like an event that we can bundle up in a nice little package. In our brains, it's like a chain reaction. One person said something then Boom! A movement. And change happened. But that's not how it works. It's drawn out. It takes time, and work and growth. And Dave wondered if maybe 40, 50 years ago, they didn't quite realize what they were a part of at the time. If they didn't know all the things going on around them would one day be called a movement, and the names they heard on television would be written down in history books.
Dave wondered.
It didn't take him long to message Kurt after that. His name might not be written down in a book someday, but a part of him knew a change was happening. Even if it was taking baby steps. Maybe he could take those steps with it.
