so this chapter is short, utter crap, and probably falls just short of a 'filler' chapter if i had to categorize it. but i can't, really...its that awkward chapter that is so bad it really can't be called a chapter.
but i had to give you guys something O.O
please read the AN at the end if you make it that far :S

*still disclaiming*...can i disclaim this chapter?


YPD – chapter six.

Blaine knew he was screwed as soon as the cheap looking wooden door swung open to omit him to the classroom. He knew, because the first thing he saw when he stepped into the room was an angry looking old man, who seemed about ready to strike him down with the hand of God and the fury of a thousand suns.

So it was understandable, really, why Blaine did not make the best of impressions on his new English teacher.
Doing his best to ignore the nasty look the man was giving him, Blaine headed toward the teachers desk with a confidence he really didn't have. Keeping one hand on his locket, Blaine reached into his other pocket and extracted the crumpled slip he'd picked up along with his schedule from the headmasters desk. He handed it to the man and waited.

His heart was absolutely not pounding. Nope. Not at all.

Holy shit, Blaine thought as the man's hostile, beady eyes connected again with his own. It totally was.

The teen shifted on his feet slightly as the elder got up slowly from his chair and walked around the table, stopping uncomfortably close to Blaine. He was so close that Blaine could see the purpling veins in his nose, and the grotty looking hair that tufted from his ears and nostrils.

Ew.

Even though repulsed by the mans overpowering smell of fish and overall appearance, Blaine held his ground and stared right back at the adult scrutinizing him in a less than pleasant way.

'You're late.'

Blaine tried his hardest not to recoil at the smell of the man's breath, but he couldn't help it. It was vile.
Keeping his face as impassive as possible, Blaine gave him a short nod, desperately resisting the temptation to wrinkle his nose.

'And why, boy, are you late for my lesson?' he sneered, leaning ever closer to the uncomfortable teen.
Deliberately holding his ground, Blaine raised an eyebrow before looking pointedly at the slip of paper still clutched in the man's hand. He didn't intend for it to come across as rude, or cocky.
Honestly.
But apparently, it did, as the teacher sucked in a sharp breath and narrowed his eyes, his chest puffing out slightly.

Here we go…

'What's your name.' he barked. It didn't even sound like a question, more like an order. Blaine found himself not liking this guy at all. What was his problem? He was late, so what! He had handed over the slip from Figgins, for gods sake! This school was seriously starting to piss him off.

Some of his annoyance must have shown on his face as he answered, because his teacher's eyes flashed dangerously.

'Blaine.' The answer was short and succinct, and Blaine really couldn't care less that his tone was perhaps colder than it should have been. He kept a glare of his own fixed on the teacher as the man looked him up and down, causing Blaine's skin to crawl. There was a brief flash of understanding, or recognition, across the adults face as he studied Blaine's carefully again; his lips curling up into a sneer and his eyes glinting darkly.
There was a silence as the two faced each other, and Blaine suddenly became aware of the many pairs of eyes watching the exchange from the rows of desks off to his side.

He wanted desperately to just go and sit in the back somewhere, out of sight and out of mind, but this Gollum of a man was making that harder than it should have been.

Finally, finally, he leaned back with a grunt and said 'Take the seat next to Abrahms. It's a small space, but I'm sure you'll fit just fine.' With one last condescending smirk, the man turned his back on Blaine and returned to his desk. Was he seriously cracking height jokes? He couldn't be much taller than Blaine himself! Looking closer now, Blaine could see a name plate on the desks surface: M. FREDERICKS. Fredericks. The same guy the girls were talking about earlier? Sure enough, when Blaine quickly surveyed the rest of the students in the room, there they were; sat at a desk behind a nerdy looking boy in a sweater vest and glasses, near the middle of the room.
It took just a few seconds of surveying the room for Blaine to realise that every eye was on him. And a second longer for him to realise he had absolutely no clue who 'Abrahms' was.
Bollocks.

Blaine bit his lip and tried to ignore the way a good portion of the student body was gaping at him and his less-than orthodox appearance, pretending not to notice the most definitely not PG-13 looks being shot his way by a cluster of cheerleaders near the back of the room.

Luckily, Blaine caught sight of Mercedes waving at him from the corner of his eye and saw her gesturing to the empty space in front of her - next to specks. So specks was Abrahms? Deciding he couldn't care less, as long as he could escape to anywhere that wasn't the front of the room, Blaine hurried to the desk and dropped his bag beside it.
He was about to pull out his chair when he realised what Fredericks had meant by 'small space'. There was no chair there to pull out, Abrahms was in a wheelchair, and said wheelchair took up more than half the space behind the desk.

It was moments like these that made Blaine wonder why the world worked against him so much.

The teen glanced up at the disabled boy and saw he had a small, apologetic smile on his face. Blaine sighed quietly. It wasn't fair to blame the other boy. He couldn't help it, even if he tried…..Fredericks, on the other hand….

Glancing at the teacher and finding him watching with a smug smirk, Blaine rolled his eyes and turned back to the rest of the room.
Which was still watching him.
Oh, come on!
Give a guy a break.

It took a quick sweep of the room to locate a spare chair in the front, sandwiched by a cheerleader and the wall. Blaine resisted the urge to run to it, and made his way over in what he hoped was a casual way. He stopped beside the cheerleader and looked at her then the chair pointedly – hoping she would get the message and just hand it over so this entire ordeal could end. But of course it wouldn't be that easy. It never was.
The blonde girl smirked at him and said 'Help yourself, hot stuff.' In a simper, before settling back in her chair looking like she had absolutely no intention of moving.
Blaine stared at her a moment before he huffed in irritation.
Screw it.
Trying his hardest to ignore the overbearing girl, Blaine leaned right across her and reached for the chair. The action caused his thigh to press right up against her side, and his groin was in what he considered a dangerous proximity to her face.
She giggled quietly as Blaine picked up the chair – although he almost dropped it right on her overly-made up head when she placed a hand against his stomach and felt him through his tank top. He caught a gasp and pulled back quickly, in time to hear her say 'Mmmmm, Not bad, sexy.' And see her wink at him. It was pretty creepy. But Blaine remembered who he was trying to be, so he resisted the urge to run away screaming and smirked at her, dropping her a wink of his own that he hopped looked confident and 'sexy', before turning and making his way back across the room with his seat in hand.
He threw it down at his desk with more force than necessary before dropping into it heavily, not bothering to care that he was forced to sit with a table leg between his own.
He put his earbuds in his ears before he slumped back, doing his very best to pretend that there was no one else in the room. As the familiarly soothing music filled his thoughts, Blaine glanced one last time at his new teacher. The man had a slightly purple look to his skin, and the teen had the distinct impression that he was positively bursting to make a fuss. But he must have seen something in Blaine's face that stopped him, as after a moment he returned to the papers he was marking. Blaine breathed a quiet sigh of relief before he tipped his head back and closed his eyes, arms folded loosely across his front. He vaguely heard the rustle of paper and the renewed scratching of pens around him as his classmates resumed their work, before he lost himself in the music as he had done so many times before.

It was his safe place, and Blaine would be lying if he said he wasn't in desperate need of it at that moment.


i really am sorry about how atrocious this (^^^^) is :(

so this is in regards to the AN chap thing i posted not long ago...i know that people saw it and read it, and i'm telling you, i'm completely serious about needing help. i have a vague idea of where i want this to go, but i need ideas/suggestions to pad it out with until i can get my crap together. seriously. the smallest contribution would be a HUGE help, and would make this story so much better for you all xxx please leave a review or send me a PM with your ideas :)
thanks guys, and sorry again 3 it breaks my heart that i keep disapointing wonderful people x
Kj x