OOOOOOOOOOOOO
Look Right Through Me
OOOOOOOOOOOOO
Kurt had his head down and his eyes were squeezed shut, as if in pain. Ida would have been worried, but a moment later he was letting out a joyous, "Ah-ha!" and springing up from where he'd been bent over the engine of the old Chevy. "I haven't lost my touch after all."
Burt's partner in the garage, a tall dark skinned man named Leo, walked over from where he'd been leaning against a red minivan and clapped a hand onto his shoulder. "Kid, your oil changes were dead-on by the time you were ten."
"Well, I have been out of practice." Kurt stretched as he spoke, flicking a couple of stray locks of hair from his brow. "And we all know the real reason you want me here is because I'm the human shield between you and Mrs. Moskowitz."
"That's maybe only fifty percent of why I want you here regularly," Leo defended himself with a laugh before turning to Ida. "Mrs. Moskowitz is a very, very nice woman, she just seems to be under the impression that I am interested in . . . more than her car."
"Insert obligatory innuendo about what's under her hood and the revving of engines," Kurt said drily and ducked when Leo attempted to swat him with a dirty rag. The man gave another fond chuckle and disappeared into the office.
Ida breathed out a little laugh, munching on her grapes and (not really) studying her history notes. She was sitting crossed legged on a table piled high with tools; she was careful about shifting and rearranging things so she wouldn't be in anyone's way. It was great to able to selfishly enjoy the brief hour or so she had to be with Kurt while the vast majority of Kurt's friends languished in detention with Coach Sylvester. After the fun that was yesterday, she was eager to come see Kurt again today; a Monday had never been so appealing to her.
Now she was witnessing a Kurt that seemed a little less quiet, a little less grey around the edges. It made it easier on her because sometimes, when she'd spent time with Kurt, her brain would superimpose that wet, bloody, deathly pale boy over the one looking over at her now. Sometimes that image haunted her at night after she closed her eyes, followed by a much larger, monstrous-looking Azimio who ripped them both to shreds while wearing an eerily giddy smile.
The better Kurt felt, the better she felt, and she didn't care if that was silly or unhealthy.
"Dude, what the hell!" Finn was spitting and spluttering as something brownish-black and sticky-looking smeared his face. Kurt burst out laughing and Ida backed away as the taller teen came barrelling over to them. "I swear" – he coughed, grimacing – "I did everything Burt said!"
"Oh really?" Kurt gave the truck Finn had been working on a cursory glance, raising an eyebrow. "Because the results would argue to the contrary." Finn scowled and leaned over the engine once more. "Ack!" More coughing, then glaring, and Ida hid her giggles behind her binder of notes, watching the scene from over the top of it. "All right, so something went wrong, but I don't get what!"
"Okay, hold your horses, I'm coming – sorry, Ida, westward expansion is just going to have to wait," he said with a long-suffering sigh and a smile that had nothing behind it but genuine mirth.
"Go on, I'm fine." She grinned, abandoning all pretences and putting her homework down to watch them. She uncrossed her legs, letting them kick gently in the air, laughing to herself as Kurt smacked Finn upside the head.
"He's never been as good at cars as he is now," Burt said from behind her, startling her a bit. "Sorry, Ida, didn't mean to scare you." She shook her head in dismissal and he moved to stand next to her, smiling faintly at the sight of the two boys arguing over the hood of the rusted pick-up truck. "He's always been pretty handy, but he was never gonna take over the business, and I'm good with that. Today, though, he did stuff in less than an hour that used to take him two. I guess he's using it to keep him distracted."
"It seems to be helping him a lot," she offered.
"Yeah, but it ain't a permanent solution," he replied, looking over at her with keen grey-blue eyes. Kurt's eyes had that extra bit of green that made them especially pretty, but Burt's were no less amazing. She wondered at the gruff man before her – he really wasn't what she had expected Kurt Hummel's dad to be like, but as days went by, she was picking up on similarities, like their solid stubbornness and straightforward way of communicating. More importantly, there was no way she could miss how much Burt Hummel adored his son, and vice versa. Now Burt was watching her with a somewhat concerned expression – one she was also becoming very familiar with."Ida, you doin' okay? Is there . . . I mean, your mom mentioned you might be seeing a . . . therapist?"
"Oh, no, not yet." She flushed, embarrassed and a little annoyed her mother would discuss something so private with someone they were only just getting to know. There had been a few passionate arguments over whether or not she needed therapy, and Ida was starting to seriously consider it, though she hadn't decided when to actually give it a chance. "I don't think I need it just now." She brushed off her irritation because Burt wasn't the one she was annoyed with. "Why do you ask?"
"Because I think that's what I want for Kurt, but he isn't willing to try." His head was tilted towards his son. "And you being the one who was there, who saw – I thought if you were . . . but never mind. You okay just hanging out here?"
"Yes, it's fun and being with Kurt is . . . nice." She somehow managed to hold back a blush – Finn had joked about Ida having a crush on Kurt more than once, and Burt had tried to have a conversation with her about it. She cleared up the misunderstanding quickly, but she was still embarrassed by it. "I appreciate you letting me be here, since I'm of no help."
He put a hand on her shoulder. "Ida, you're welcome whenever, trust me. And if you ever do want to learn, either Kurt or me will be happy to teach you. It would be a good way to make sure you never get scammed by some no-good mechanic out to take you for a ride."
She smiled brightly at that. "Sounds good. Maybe over the winter break?"
"Sure, you just give us a call." He stiffened quite suddenly and Ida looked over to see Officer Henderson standing at the entrance to the garage. She immediately glanced back to Finn and Kurt, who had quieted as soon as they spotted him. Finn moved in closer to the other boy, posture straightening, and his wariness obvious in the tense lines of his shoulders.
"Hello Mr. Hummel. Kurt, Finn, how you boys doing?" He was a very kind man; Ida had felt safe when he'd been speaking to her at the hospital, and sure that he was going to do everything he could to help them, to get Azimio the punishment he deserved – but unfortunately she couldn't help the way her stomach flipped, the way her fingertips and toes felt cold and tingly when she saw him.
"Officer, what can we do for you? Anything we need to talk about? My office is just back here." Burt moved to stand in front of him, reaching to shake his hand. The policeman shook it firmly a few times before stepping back, taking in the way Finn stood protectively next to Kurt.
"No, thank you Mr. Hummel – Burt. Mostly I was coming to inform you about one of the initiatives the police department is taking for prevention of future bullying. We can talk about it in your office, but I think Kurt and Finn might like to hear it."
Burt's eyes narrowed. Ida didn't think Burt wanted Kurt involved in anything, anywhere, other than getting better and putting it all behind him – she'd overheard him saying as much a few times since she started coming over to Kurt's house and now the garage.
Kurt was shifting around Finn and standing next to his dad. "Go ahead. I suppose it's worth hearing about, if nothing else. Though, why didn't you just call my dad?"
"I wanted to tell you in person, see your reaction, because there is something else – well, let me explain." Everyone seemed to settle a little: Finn against the bumper of the pick-up, Burt leaning back against a rack of tires, Kurt at his side doing the same. Officer Henderson looked at them each in turn, and Leo, who Ida had not even noticed coming back in, seemed to want to hear this too. He stood against the table Ida was sitting on. Henderson finally seemed to register her, smiling in that reassuring way he had, putting her at ease. "Hello Ida, sorry I didn't see you there. It'll be nice to hear your input."
His expression became a little more serious then as he began his explanation. "We're planning on having an assembly type conference at the school. We've been in talks with the board, investigating for misconduct. My chief and I are trying to establish a pattern of neglect. As per your suggestions, Burt, and the suggestions of your mom, Ida, we've been digging into Figgins' past actions and McKinley's disciplinary problems, particularly those unrecorded. We've drummed up several assaults previously unreported, and numerous accounts of harassment that go beyond teasing or heckling. The Abrams family especially is interested in pursuing charges – what those kids did to their son . . ." He shook his head, a deep frown marring his features.
Ida glanced towards Finn. He was staring down at his shoes. She had never witnessed anything happening to Artie outside of slushies and taunting – but she'd only been at McKinley for a month or so, and according to the Glee club, aside from what happened to Kurt, things used to be worse before.
She could hardly imagine worse.
"The school board is trying to avoid having any more law suits thrown at them other than the one the Abrams and several others are threatening, not to mention the potential for criminal charges. They are working with us to establish a new policy for discipline in the district, and part of that is putting together an assembly that will address the gravity of what happened to you, Kurt. We need swift action to make sure the kids know how damn unacceptable all this is. A couple of news stations were going to be there, though I'm not certain the entire event will be televised – but if not, good chunks of it may end up online."
Kurt said nothing, hardly moving, and that made Ida long for the Kurt of five minutes ago, arguing with Finn, eyes alight, lips twitching upwards.
"It'll be attended by members of the school board, by the student body, and myself and other officers. I wanted to keep you informed, and ask if you wanted to be there or not."
Officer Henderson waited patiently after all that; the quiet, firm tone he had spoken in was in no way coercive or condescending.
"What does it matter?" Kurt asked, his eyes and expression giving away nothing, which was pretty telling in and of itself – Kurt had such an expressive face, and his eyes most of all usually broadcasted whatever he was feeling. Maybe Ida just didn't know him well enough to read him yet, but this blankness felt wrong.
"Because you're the one who had to pay so steeply for their negligence, for their stupidity and their ignorance. You being there would be a tangible reminder of all their wrongs, something they can't ignore."
Kurt sighed then, and Finn shifted uncomfortably by the truck, looking like he was on the verge of saying something. The boys met each other's eyes and something passed between them. Kurt's face twisted into a bittersweet smile. "So, a poster boy, then? Officer, I'm not really interested."
"Of course, but I would like to point out that you don't have to get up there and make a speech. You could simply be present, or make a single statement. You could be in the background, or . . ." He hesitated. "You could sing."
"I'm sorry, what?" Kurt's voice was flat.
Ida felt Leo move behind her, and she cast a glance at Finn again – his brow was furrowed, his mouth pulling downwards. Kurt was back to being expressionless, though he squeezed both his hands into fists at his sides. Burt reached out without looking, one of his larger, rougher hands enclosing one of Kurt's. The other fist relaxed minutely.
Henderson turned his full attention to Kurt. "I know you're part of your Glee club, and I know you have all performed in front of the school before. Maybe you could do a song, if you don't feel like speaking. If that would make you feel more comfortable, there's no reason why not."
Emotions flickered across Kurt's face too fast for Ida to catch. "I don't think I could. I don't think I ever want to set foot in that school again, honestly."
Ida wanted to say something, but she couldn't say it now, not in front of so many people. Kurt and Mercedes were the ones she felt closest to and perhaps later she would express her thoughts to them, but for now she kept silent. Her heart was hammering at the idea of Kurt singing out whatever he was feeling, be it hatred, fear, or despair, in front of the ones who had a hand in doing this to him. It felt wrong – some things should not be shared, least of all with people she partially blamed for it all. What's more, being an intensely private person herself, the thought of baring her soul to total strangers had her shivering.
"You mentioned earlier that this might be recorded – even televised," Kurt said quietly. "I just . . . I don't think I could."
Finn's shoulders rolled back as he stood ramrod straight, looking up at Mr. Hummel. Burt stared back at him, nodding, and Leo stepped away from the table, his arms crossed, eyes flicking back and forth between the police officer and the Hummel family. Kurt gave the man the faintest of smiles and Leo gave him a special lopsided one in return; it softened his features with the affection he clearly felt for the younger Hummel. All these people, communicating without saying a word. Ida bit back a small flare of irrational jealousy. She was on the outside looking in, at times, despite how welcoming they'd all been, but she hadn't been present, hadn't known Kurt long enough to have a right to wordless conversations and interjections. She breathed in deeply, and did what she did best: watch.
"Kurt, buddy," Burt said after all the silent exchanges, "I'm behind you one hundred percent, whatever you decide. Personally though, I don't want you within a hundred yards of the place."
Kurt didn't say a word after that, just let Officer Henderson finish describing the rest of the assembly: it was being organized by representatives of the ACLU and several anti-bullying groups, they were trying to schedule it for next Friday, and if Kurt wanted, he could request to not be filmed – everyone present had the option to not be recorded, including the students in the audience.
Officer Henderson gave Kurt a small, understanding smile once he was done. "Look, this is all being done fast and messy, mostly to give the school board a chance to get some good press back, and maybe stave off some serious legal actions. You can let me know whenever, even the day of – it's not a big deal to work you in. But if you don't want to do anything, that's fine too. No one is asking you to be a poster boy, and I already think you're one of the bravest kids I know. You don't have anything to prove to anyone – only do it if you're damn sure you want to, and for no other reason than that."
Kurt gave him a wordless nod, a half-smile, and Burt strode forward to shake the officer's hand again and lead him outside for a private talk. When they were out of earshot, Leo took a few steps to stand before Kurt, reaching a slow hand out to put on his shoulder. "Kid, you doing okay?"
There was a shrug, a quick series of flickering emotions, a soft, dry, "Just having a minor existentialist crisis, and also contemplating making lasagna for dinner – I could use something hearty and fattening."
"Existentialism and lasagna, huh?" Leo's mouth quirked upwards. "Well, when it comes to the lasagna, if you have any leftovers, save some for me, yeah? You've totally ruined me for Sheila's cooking these past couple months."
The hand stayed on his shoulder as Kurt agreed and they chatted until Mercedes, Rachel, Puck, and Sam, and just about everyone else burst into the garage, jabbering and singing and arguing. Ida sighed to herself, but smiled as Puck and Mercedes waved her over, Rachel asking why the police were there as she accepted a grease-stained hug from her boyfriend.
They all ended up back at Kurt's house much to Burt's chagrin. Soon after arriving, Burt and Carole left to get ingredients for the lasagna and someone suggested they get a head start on baking some dessert. The resulting chaos was hilarious, dangerous, and unforgettable; Ida never wanted to go back to being the wallflower ever again, not now that she understood what it was to be with people who knew your name and smiled while they said it. This offbeat glee club was worth all the pain and fear it had taken to get her here with them.
Even if they did occasionally set things on fire.
OOOOOOOOOOOOO
Ida dug through her backpack, taking out a salami and cheese sandwich, munching in the quiet. She'd had to duck and hide all day, and it was exhausting.
The vast majority of McKinley still didn't know who she was. Her first day back she'd gotten a few looks, but for the most part no one from the crowds said a word to her, and she breathed easy.
However, the Glee club, they were something different; Mercedes had been incredibly focused on Kurt, as was to be expected, but she'd made a point to keep tabs on Ida during the school day. She sent e-mails almost every night, even if they were just one-sentence reminders that Ida had a place among them, and she could talk to any of them if she wanted to ("Well, except for Santana . . . and Puck . . . maybe Brittany – you can talk to her, but first you have to make sure you're talking about the same thing, and even then, I can't guarantee either you or her will get what's going on.").
Point being, they went out of their way to talk to her, to include her, and Mercedes seemed to want her around all the time. Ida hadn't realized that being friends with someone could be so exhausting. She had been so used to quiet and being left alone with her own thoughts, and what's more, she needed some of that, from time to time, even though she was incredibly grateful that the Glee club was being so great to her. She never wanted to go back to being as alone as she'd been before, but just a few moments of solitude, now and then, would be nice.
As of that Friday, it had been two weeks and a day since the attack. In that time, McKinley had been hovering in this weird sort of limbo; no one seemed to know quite what to do with themselves, because even though things appeared to be going back to normal, there was a distinct lack of slushie-throwing and locker-slamming in the hallways. The teachers kept meeting in huddles and discussing things between classes – Ida had been able to pick up words like 'school board' and 'police chief' and 'lawsuit'. She knew more than most what those terms meant since her mother was neck-deep in a lot of the behind-the-scenes stuff, but Ida's focus lay in the present on-scene atmosphere of William McKinley High School.
It was . . . different and better in a lot of ways, but it all felt transport, intangible.
Then Puck almost took Mathuchek's head off in-between classes on Tuesday. No one else had seen what had set him off – but Ida had. Being a periphery character in the school had even her new friends failing to notice her in the crowds at times. Mathuchek had been laughing and joking with his buddies – and then some little sophomore had walked past, head held high like no dork had ever dared to in these hallways.
Mathuchek had – almost like it was reflex – stuck out a foot without even looking and sent the poor boy flying. Puck, McKinley's Mohawked Avenging Angel, had appeared out of nowhere and slammed the jock into the lockers so hard that the reverberation made nearly everyone in the hallway jump a foot in the air, and a good portion dropped binders and textbooks. People had already become accustomed to not hearing body-meeting-locker in the halls anymore.
Puck hadn't said anything, but the glare he levelled was enough to send a chill down Ida's spine even though she wasn't the target. She remembered that Puck had spent time in juvy, that he had been one of the first to join in on the riot when Finn had lost it on Karofsky, and most importantly, she remembered the way Puck had taken her aside on her first day back to school, and said 'What you did was too cool for words – so you're forever cool, in my books. Just saying.' He hadn't spoken more than a handful of words to her in the two weeks since, but Ida was impressed all the same, and more so by the way he prowled the halls, making everyone who had ever been afraid suddenly feel safe . . . That was saying everything.
Things had changed but somehow stayed the same. Puck was still scary, but with different targets now. The jocks were still stupid and cruel, but subdued. The students hardly ever mentioned Kurt in conversation, but they gave Mercedes and Rachel and pretty much everyone in the Glee club a wide berth.
The assembly had been officially scheduled for the next Friday.
"Oh, hey! I've been looking for you everywhere!"
Ida closed her eyes briefly before opening them to see Rachel Berry bearing down on her, brown eyes determined and strides strangely fast and long for someone with such short legs. Ida wondered idly if the girl had ever considered trying out for track and field – she certainly had the lung capacity for it, and the way she quick-stepped everywhere meant that she could probably sprint with the best of them.
"Hi Rachel."
"What are you doing in this corner all by yourself?" Rachel chided her, smile wide and too bright. "We told you to sit with us at lunch."
Ida had tried to sit with them days ago, but the flurry of conversation, of arguing, of inside jokes and conflicts, it had all left her feeling dazed, left out, and very, very confused as to how these people functioned as friends. It was also funny, exhilarating, and she had gotten to know Tina and Mike better, two people who she would very much like to be closer to – but for now, small doses. That past Sunday (the picture of that dog pile of Glee members was up on her Facebook wall) and Monday (despite being drenched with fire extinguisher foam) at Kurt's house had been the most fun she'd had in a long, long time – and she wanted more, but not all at once.
She had to ease her way in, because she was fairly certain that otherwise their crazy was contagious.
"I needed to study for a quiz next period," she said, which was half-true. She'd studied the night before, and only needed a quick glance at her notes. "Sorry for not letting you know."
"It's all right – but I was looking for you for another reason." Rachel kneeled on the ground next to Ida, hands folded in her lap over her navy blue dress. "I was wondering if you knew for a fact that Kurt's not coming to the assembly next Friday." She spoke in a hushed tone, glancing over her shoulder a lot. It wasn't a widely known fact that Kurt had been offered a place in the assembly and they all worked hard to keep it that way.
Ida glanced around herself as well before answering, "I'm not sure – Kurt told us he wasn't. He's been busy with his fashion portfolios, and helping at his dad's garage, fixing up that old Mustang."
"But you were there yesterday, right? I mean, you and Mercedes and Blaine – you didn't try and change his mind?"
Ida smiled. "No, Rachel, we didn't."
Kurt was allowed a maximum of three visitors per day (since the Monday kitchen fire incident), and Ida had claimed yesterday's slot, eager to get some semi-alone time with Kurt. Mercedes had also specifically asked Ida to be there, because she was determined that they be good friends by the winter break. Ida accepted this plan easily, even if she was a little thrown by the fierce determination behind it.
Yesterday, with only a small group of them there, Mercedes had tried to convince Kurt to join her at her volunteer job at the community centre, helping elementary school kids with homework. Blaine was enthusiastic about getting him acquainted with all things Dalton. Kurt had been politely interested in both, but he clearly wasn't super excited about either.
Ida hadn't been able to find the words for what she wanted to say, because she had been feeling a little protective on Kurt's behalf – like maybe she wanted people to back off and give him space again.
But she didn't have the right, did she? No, no I don't, she insisted to herself.
The topic of the assembly came up once, and it had been Blaine who asked if Kurt maybe wanted to attend as an observer, silent and unnoticed in the background. The other boy thought about it for a few long moments before answering.
He was tugging on the buckle of the pants he was wearing, which had several other belts wrapped around his thighs and calves. Ida had been happy to see Kurt beginning to look like himself again, but she wondered if he'd be able to keep it up outside of the four walls of his house. She'd overheard Finn talking to Mercedes about how worried he was that Kurt was . . . different, and losing sight of himself, trying to be less than he was.
Mercedes wanted Kurt to sing. He was more, was everything he was and could be, when he sang.
She had shown Ida a few videos of New Directions performances, and even when Kurt didn't have a line or solo, he shone. Ida wanted that for him again – wanted him to remember that he was so much more than what had happened to him. He had inspired her without knowing, had made her want to be friends and have friends, when for many years she had been resigned to her lonely existence. She wondered how many students at McKinley were like her – admiring from a distance, jealous of his confidence – and maybe there were a few who were more like Kurt than they were willing to admit, and saw him as something to aspire to.
But Ida didn't think it was a good idea for him to go back to McKinley.
"I want to put it behind me, Blaine, I want to forget it, and I want to pretend it never happened. And that school – I never want to be there again, or see those faces . . . I don't care about making a statement, I don't care if they forget about me, I just want it all to be over."
Mercedes breathed in and out slowly before speaking. "I know, baby, and God, I would give anything to go back in time and . . ." Her voice wavered and she had to swallow before continuing. "I think you need to do something – like end it on your own terms. But do whatever, as long as it's what you want."
He had smiled faintly at that, but Ida could see he was pretty firm in his decision. Mercedes put down her drink to lean back on the couch and dig out her iPod from her jeans' pocket. "Okay, forget about it for now. I'm thinking of adding some Broadway to my bring-the-house-down playlist."
"You mean your I'm-just-as-good-if-not-better-than-Berry playlist?" Kurt clarified with a wider smile.
"Damn straight."
Kurt reached for his own iPod, which was on the table, and passed the earbuds over to Mercedes. "Here, give some of these a listen – the leading ladies of Broadway always have something to offer. They can be just as badass as any pop diva and singing along with them makes me feel as prodigious and powerful as I did wearing ten inch heels and a silver Gaga outfit." He grinned at Blaine then, who looked both confused and interested as his eyebrows climbed up higher on his forehead. "Sorry, Blaine, that's a story for another time. But know that I looked fabulous."
"I bet you did," Blaine said, sounding a little dazed. "Tell me there are pictures. Or better yet, tell me you still have the outfit."
"I definitely have the heels," Kurt said after briefly furrowing his brow in thought. "Size ten and bedazzled to death. And it took a lot of practise walking in those. But it was worth it."
Ida made a mental note to ask Mercedes if she had pictures of this incident.
"I just want to help," Rachel said after Ida finished recounting what had happened the day before. She frowned at her hands then looked up at Ida imploringly. "I want to be there for him – and I can't believe they discussed Broadway without me." Ida hadn't known that Rachel was that much of a Broadway expert, but now that she thought about it, it did make sense. She had never known anyone as theatrical and abrasive as Rachel; she would be right at home on a Broadway stage.
"I know it's probably selfish of me, but I feel like there's nothing else I can really do for Kurt right now. This, though, this is the one thing I can do."
"Kurt knows that and so does Mercedes. I'm sure he'll call you or text you to come, if he feels like it. But maybe . . ." She stopped there, her words failing her; it was weird, finding herself in the middle of this when barely a month ago she hadn't even known these people's names. "Maybe he can't handle more than Mercedes helping him right now."
Rachel worried her lower lip for a moment, and then exhaled heavily through her nose. "Okay. You're right. I mean, Kurt's slowly coming around, and he knows I'm here if he needs me. If he doesn't want my help then that's his right." Her lips pursed as she said these words, then she blinked rapidly and that scarily happy smile was back in place. "Right, no more studying, Ida. We need you at the table. You bring a sense of Zen to the whole lunchtime experience. And Tina was asking for you – she said something about wanting to show you the eyeliner trick."
Throughout this whole mini-tirade, Ida had been pulled to her feet, her food shoved temporarily back into her bag, and she was now being tugged down the hall towards the cafeteria – she made a few token protests, but in the end, Ida resigned herself to another boisterous and chaotic lunch with the New Directions.
She tried to be annoyed but a smile was breaking across her face.
OOOOOOOOOOOOO
"Hey, Little Miss Badass, wait up!"
It was official: Ida could not get rid of these people. They were definitely like some sort of contagion – once you caught it, there was no cure. Or maybe they were like those parasites that clung onto sharks. Wait, what was she even thinking right now? She had friends, not parasites. Ida stopped in her tracks on the way out from school and turned to face Puck, who caught up to her a second later. Once again, she couldn't help the smile that crossed her features, even with the tinge of exasperation.
He clapped a hand on her shoulder and Ida tried not to flinch at the gesture – Puck was big and somewhat mean-looking. While she knew that this gesture was not meant to be threatening and he'd become something of a hero to her, her body reacted as if it were back in that locker room.
"You keep forgetting you're one of us now," Puck said matter-of-factly. "And we're having a meeting."
"I told Rachel about a million times I'm not interested in joining Glee," Ida said tiredly. "Please, Puck, would you just –"
"This isn't that kind of meeting – the assembly's coming up next week, and we wanna make sure that no one is going to harass Kurt if he shows. Or you, though I'm thinking no one really knows who you are, no offense."
"None taken. But I don't see how I could help."
"You could totally help – just do what you did last time. Sound the alarm if you think anything funny is going on." Puck shoved his hands into his pockets. "It ain't no thing. You've just gotta keep your eyes and ears open."
"I don't think I need to come to a meeting to know that." Ida was scanning the parking lot for her mother. "Listen, I'm going to be picked up any second now."
"That's cool, then, as long as you know we're . . . fuck, what the hell?"
Ida jumped a bit at the vehemence of his exclamation, and whipped around to see what Puck was glaring at. There, in the tree line off the edge of the school, was a tall figure, bulky – Ida recognized it as Dave Karofsky a split second before Puck was barrelling after him. Ida followed immediately, cursing herself for her lack of self-preservation. Karofsky saw them heading over and he took a step back, and another, but then held his ground. He hunched in on himself; his hands seemed to spasm a bit before forming fists that were then shoved into his jacket pockets.
"What the fuck are you doing here, asshole?" Puck hissed as they got within hearing range.
Karofsky clenched his jaw and then spoke, his voice hoarse, "I wanted to see if Hummel was here."
Ida's eyebrows shot up. That was unexpected. Not only that, but whatever reason Karofsky had for wanting to see Kurt, she wouldn't expect him to admit it so readily to one Kurt's largest and most scary protectors.
Sure enough, Puck's eyes widened and his hands were now also forming fists. Ida darted a quick look behind her – the students were milling about, waiting for rides or just hanging out, and absolutely no one was looking in their direction. She wondered if she should run inside, look for a teacher before this got out of hand.
"You're serious? I told you to stay the hell away from him, otherwise –"
"I know what you said, Puckerman!" Karofsky cut him off, eyes darting nervously to Ida. "But I just . . . I wanted to say I was sorry, all right? I would never have done what Azimio did, and he needs to know that!"
"No, he doesn't," Puck growled out. "He doesn't need a damn thing from you. And he's not here – he's never gonna be here again, because his dad pulled him out of school, thanks to your buddy."
Karofsky visibly sagged at that, which had Ida tilting her head, staring at him closely. The intensity in his eyes, the desperation in his voice . . . She was sure he was sincere, but why?
"There's an assembly thing, I heard." Karofsky lifted his head up, staring at them both. "A few people on the hockey team texted me, told me. It's been on the news too. Is . . . is Kurt going to be there for that?"
"None of your freakin' business," Puck threw at him with a snarl. "And you better watch yourself, Karofsky. I have no problem planting my fist in your face. Gimmie a reason."
"Why do you want to see Kurt?" Ida asked before Puck could toss out another threat. Karofsky startled at her voice, which made her take a step back, not wanting to provoke him, a little scared despite the fact that he did help her once. "You've never wanted to talk to him before, right? You've been hurting him, and insulting him, and now, suddenly, you want to talk to him?"
Karofsky said nothing, but what made Ida furrow her brow was the way that Puck was suddenly looking uncomfortable.
"Maybe you feel guilty, but . . . I don't know, it doesn't make much sense to me. You still think he's some kind of deviant for being gay, don't you? Unless you don't, and you were just following the crowd. Which is disgusting – that you didn't even have your own beliefs behind your actions." She had no clue where this was coming from, but as she picked up speed, she felt a weight lifting off her shoulders. It was like that locker room was always there in the corner of her eye, but now it was fading and the rest of the world was coming into focus. What little fear she felt fell away into nothing.
"What is going on?" she asked finally, and she included Puck in this.
Neither of them answered her, but Karofsky looked so spooked by the end of her small speech that she knew she was onto something. However, she had no idea what was happening, because if Puck knew . . . It was all very confusing, and she was going to repeat her question but Karofsky just threw his hands out in front of him, a sweeping gesture, shaking his head and running back into the woods, disappearing.
Puck watched him go, and Ida watched Puck, waiting expectantly. He looked back at her once Karofsky had been gone for several moments, sighing heavily, rubbing the back of his neck and up over his mohawk. "I can't really tell you what's going on, Ida. It's not mine to tell, and I promised someone. A friend. Not Karofsky. Don't give a crap about him."
That just made things even more baffling, but Ida wasn't going to push, at least not now. She figured the best person to ask about Puck would be Puck's best friend, Finn, but again she wondered whether or not she had the right to be inserting herself into this whole mess.
"It's fine, Puck. I've got to go, I'm sure my mom's wondering where I am. See you Monday."
He smiled at her. "Yeah. And Friday, you're gonna be our undercover girl, right? Eyes on everything?"
"You got it," she said with a returning smile.
Next Friday, when hopefully this could all come to an end in a way that didn't cause any further damage, and not just to Kurt – Ida wanted closure too; she wanted to leave that locker room behind, and stop seeing pools of water as a threat, and feeling cold every time she heard a shower running.
OOOOOOOOOOOOO
"Did you hear that Carl's parents pulled him out of school today?"
"Yeah, I know a couple of other kids whose parents said no."
"That's weird – it's just an anti-bullying thing, isn't it?"
"But they're recording it!"
"But you could opt out of that – there was a form and everything. I can get not wanting to be recorded."
"No, dudes, it's about the gay thing. Like, Hummel was attacked because he was gay! Didn't you see what Azimio spray painted in the locker room?"
"So is this some pro-gay thing then?"
"I don't know and who cares? No class for the morning! I'll watch or do anything not to be in Masterson's hell chamber right now."
Ida sighed as she listened to the conversations in the hall. The first bell hadn't gone off yet, but she wasn't sure anyone would hear it when it did. She fingered the sequined pattern on the shoulder of her purple sweater – the sweater Kurt had given her. It did fit her nicely, if a little loosely about her arms and shoulders, and Kurt had been right about the colour suiting her.
The boy in question had been out of contact for the past day or so – Ida wasn't sure what that meant for him; Mercedes had texted yesterday that he'd briefly considered putting in an appearance, but he wouldn't show until the last minute if that was the case. He didn't want to be in the school any longer than he had to be, even with all the police milling about – and Ida had seen more than a handful of uniforms in the short amount of time she'd been in the hallway.
She abruptly wished for her own mom to be around, but she hadn't been able to book any more time off work than she already had, given she'd been home for almost week after Ida got out of the hospital, and was taking the odd half day to deal with the school board and the still-up-in-the-air lawsuit. Ida swallowed hard, closing her eyes briefly against the swirling noise and movement around her, calming herself with a few deep breaths.
They had to report to their homerooms for attendance before they all proceeded to the gym. It was right after the second bell went off and everyone started doing just that when Ida saw a tall, brown-haired head towering over the masses, hunched in on himself, but smiling down at someone Ida couldn't see through the crowd.
"Hey Ida!" Finn called, making a few people turn her way and give her confused looks, like they'd never seen her before. A couple of students pointed and whispered to their friends behind their hands, clearly having recognized who she was. She ignored them all, and smiled up at the boy as he crossed over to her. "Hey."
"Man things feel different, don't they?" he said as soon as he stood before her. He shifted his bag on his shoulders with one hand, pulled Rachel in closer by the other. "I mean, you guys were all telling me, but . . . wow, it really does feel different."
"The lack of stagnant slushie smell is probably part of that. Not to mention the general absence of that haze of fear and testosterone." Rachel grinned at Ida, flashing a little wave.
"Any news on Kurt?" Ida asked as quietly as she could while still being heard by the two in front of her.
Finn shook his head. "I don't know. Burt's coming for sure, but I haven't seen Kurt since he went to bed last night – he didn't even come out of his room for breakfast this morning." He had his phone in his hand and was periodically glancing at it.
"Well, either way, we're here as his representatives," Rachel stated proudly, a touch of anger colouring her tone. "We're not going to let them forget him or what they did to him."
Ida's phone buzzed as did Finn's and Rachel's. It was a text from Mercedes: Kurt isn't responding to any of my texts – think he's still at home. Hey, Blaine, you manage to get permission to ditch class today? Which was swiftly responded to by another mass text, this one from the Dalton boy: Permission may not be the right word for it, but I'm definitely going to be there! Let me know if I should head to the house or the school. He followed this up with a smiley face.
"Hmm, Blaine sure seems eager," Rachel said with a sly little grin. Ida couldn't help returning it, in a milder, shyer capacity. Blaine was really, really friendly and charming. It was difficult to say if he was really into Kurt in that way, because he seemed to just be a naturally effusive and kind person, but Ida could see him and Kurt together. Maybe. Once Kurt had found his firm ground again.
The bell rang again as halls were still pretty full and finally everyone took the hint. Ida waved goodbye to Finn and Rachel, heading into her first period. A few more people whispered as she walked past their desks; she supposed that today of all days, she wouldn't be able to fade into the background as easily as she was used to. Attendance took about five minutes – three of which were spent getting the class to quiet down.
Five minutes after that, Figgins was calling for teachers to bring their students to the gym, by certain homeroom numbers. Thankfully, Ida's was amongst those called first. Her nervousness was making her fingers twitch, her neck tingle.
"Hey, Ida!"
She whipped her head around at the shout of her name – Burt Hummel was making his way towards her. He shot her a smile as he approached, and then took his hat off as he turned to her teacher.
"Ma'am, my name is Burt Hummel, and Ida is a friend of my son's Kurt. I was wondering if maybe we could borrow her. We'd like her to sit with us during this assembly."
Ida blinked, her mouth parting in surprise. She hardly heard Mrs. Beechum's reply, just moved in to stand next to Mr. Hummel, shifting a little on her feet. Baseball cap jammed back onto his head, Mr. Hummel put a hand on her back, guiding her against the rush of students entering the gym. "We've got Finn, Rachel and Mercedes with us, and apparently that Blaine kid is almost here too. Kurt's . . . I'm pretty sure he isn't going to show today."
They were approaching the choir room, and Ida smiled as she walked in to see it full of Glee club members, Mr. Schuester, Mrs. Hudson, and Miss Pillsbury, everybody chatting and upbeat. There was an odd undercurrent to it all – Rachel, Mercedes, and Quinn were talking intensely about something. Ida took a step forward, and then was promptly snatched up by Rachel, who broke away from her other friends to welcome Ida with her staple too-bright smile. Burt moved to take his place at Mrs. Hudson's side, wrapping an arm around Finn's shoulder. Ida jumped when a deep voice broke into the general chatter.
"Hello again, everyone."
Ida turned, grateful to see the familiar and welcome face of Officer Henderson. He gave her a quick grin before facing Burt. "Just wanted to check in, see how you're doing."
Burt shrugged. "I'm only here to see exactly how serious everyone is taking this – I'm pretty good at sniffing out bullshit, if you'll pardon my language."
The police officer didn't flinch at all at that announcement. "That is completely reasonable. You know I have a kid, I'd do the same in your position."
Ida saw Burt relax a little at that. "Well, I appreciate the understanding, Officer Henderson."
"I've told you that you can call me Patrick, if that's easier on you – fewer syllables, anyways." He took the time to explain what was going on, and let them know that there were seats right up front, just for them, whenever everyone was ready to go. After the brief rundown, he gave Burt a handshake and went to begin the assembly with his speech.
"I suppose we should head in there," Mr. Schuester said, breathing out slowly. "I'm curious to hear what the board has to say more than anything else."
"Specifically if they'll admit to any fault on their part," Mrs. Hudson added, her eyes flashing. "Because if I blame anyone, aside from Figgins, it's them."
There was a long pause. In that moment of tension, Blaine burst into the room, breathless and wild eyed. "I made it, right? Thanks for the directions, Mercedes."
"No problem, Blaine." She smiled fondly at the other boy, shooting Quinn a significant look which was returned along with a grin. Brittany whispered something to Santana, and the girl let out a throaty laugh. "But Kurt's a no-show. We're heading into the gym now."
He sagged a little, but then brightened when he caught sight of the amused smile Burt was sending in his direction. "I appreciate you not, um, calling me out on my missing school. I wanted to come just in case Kurt . . . but it's good to be here, so I can help give Kurt the play-by-play later, if he wants it."
Ida had to smother a smile, and saw Mercedes, Rachel – all of the Glee girls, really – doing the same, while nearly everyone else looked at each other with raised eyebrows or sly winks. Ida let them all go ahead of her, taking a second to breathe. She hadn't really thought about what it might do to her to be part of this whole thing; she was starting to feel a little closed in again. Maybe she couldn't do this either.
Her phone buzzed. She blinked as she read the text, mouth opening then closing: Hey, I'm here. Meet me by the entrance to the auditorium – it's empty. Don't tell the others.
She stared for another second before her feet started moving of their own accord. Clutching the strap of her bag tightly, she made her way cautiously down the halls, smiling at a couple of police officers that asked her why she wasn't in the gym.
"Bathroom," she said quietly. "Officer Henderson – Patrick – said I could go."
Her use of his first name visibly relaxed them, and they smiled at her before letting her move on. She swung around the corner that would take her to the auditorium, and stopped dead in her tracks.
Kurt was there.
And so was Karofsky.
Ida stared, frozen, as Karofsky, who was standing a bare two feet away from Kurt, spoke urgently, "And if I'd known what he was planning, I swear to God, Kurt, I would have done something. Stopped him before it got that far."
Kurt was staring up at him, pressed back into a wall, holding the straps of his messenger bag so tightly the whites of knuckles were prominently on display. "Fine, you didn't have a hand in gay bashing me. Congratulations, you are clearly evolving, albeit minutely. I had figured that much out on my own. Your particular brand of self-loathing would likely involve a different kind of violence, one I sincerely hope you'll seek help for before it happens."
Karofsky flinched. "I wouldn't ever . . . I would never hurt you like that, if that's what you're . . . I'm not a monster."
"I'm not talking about hurting me," Kurt breathed out, his eyes wide, but not so much afraid – or at least not only afraid – but a little sad, maybe? "Or anyone else. Dave, you need to talk to someone about this."
There was a silence, and Ida didn't dare move, didn't want to draw attention and break the fragile balance between the two of them, but at the same time, her throat was seizing up – a yell for help was caught in there, waiting to be set free at the slightest sign of trouble.
Karofsky raised a shaking hand to his face, pressing against his eyes for a few seconds before dropping down to hover at chest level. "I can't even think it. It's not real if I can't think it. If I can't say it."
"But you didn't have to – you acted on it," Kurt's voice hitched. "It's a part of you and it won't go away. You can either fight it and destroy yourself in the process, or you can accept it and get on with your life. You don't have to do it today, or next year, but at least admit it to yourself."
Dave laughed humourlessly, a ripped up sound, wet and raspy. Ida watched him and for the first time, she felt sorry for him. Based on what she was hearing, the bully before her was dealing with some serious questions about his sexuality and that explained – though it didn't excuse – a lot of his behaviour toward Kurt. It also set a lot their interactions in a really unsettling light and Ida was preparing to announce her presence, but Karofsky's laugh ended abruptly with this tentative, hopeful glance at Kurt that had Ida holding her breath.
"If I do this, at some point, not right now but . . . later, much later," Karofsky spoke haltingly, not looking at Kurt, chewing on his lips between words. "Could I . . . could I . . . talk to you, maybe . . . about . . . stuff?"
Kurt's eyes were searching his face – whatever he saw had him relaxing a little and pushing away from the wall. "You can't ask me that. Not now. I'm not, I'm not capable of it. In a few months, there might be a chance that we can talk, but I can't promise it. There are other people around, a few people who are like us that you can talk to, that won't judge. You know there are places you can call, websites you can look up. Do that in the meantime."
Dave looked up again, and his face was completely unguarded – he was afraid, he was ashamed, he was looking at Kurt like . . . Ida's epiphany had her hand coming up to smother a gasp. Oh. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry about what happened in that locker room."
And somehow Ida knew he wasn't talking about Azimio.
Kurt's breathing went uneven and his fingers tightened around his bag straps again. "Okay."
"It won't happen again. I don't just mean to you, I . . . it was stupid . . . You didn't want it, and I didn't want to do it like that, it's just, you've always been . . ." He hung his head, and what came next was a whisper; Ida had to strain her ears to hear it. "You're . . . something else, you know that? And it isn't just that you're . . . good-looking. I'm sorry, I know this makes me a creep. But you're leaving so . . . there it is."
The silence stretched between them. Ida felt several more pieces locking into place: Puck knew what had happened between Kurt and Karofsky, whatever that had been, and he'd been protecting Kurt from him, threatening Karofsky with outing him – she wasn't sure what to feel about that. Kurt's reluctance to press any charges against Dave made more sense too, and Ida's own ire towards the bully was significantly lessened, though it was not completely gone.
"I hope it gets better for you, Dave, I really do," Kurt finally said, quiet and sincere. He looked over to the side, caught Ida's gaze, and stared in surprise. Dave didn't see her yet, and he wouldn't, it seemed, because he was turning, his back to her, to leave. He took a step, then paused, half-turning to face Kurt again.
"It's good, that you're leaving. You deserve better than this place."
He walked away, rounding a corner. She and Kurt both watched him disappear before facing each other. She waited until Karofsky's footsteps had faded and then stepped in closer.
"You didn't call for help this time," he said, his hands coming up to his perfectly hair-sprayed locks – his fingers were trembling.
"You seemed like you had it under control. I didn't want to surprise him, make him angry," she said softly. "Are you okay?"
Kurt stared at his shaking hands for a moment. Then he shook his head, clenching them into fists, loosening them after a moment, and repeating the process a few times while smiling crookedly at her. "For now, I guess. It was good, to get that . . . out there. Helps with what I want to do."
She waited for an explanation, but Kurt only tilted his head towards the auditorium. She followed him in, and he walked with purpose towards the stage, heading for the piano. He dropped his bag onto it, opening it and pulling out a CD. It flashed in the minimal stage lighting. He put it down and breathed in and out for several moments.
Her heart kept stuttering away in her chest. She was grateful for the silence in the auditorium; she didn't think she could handle any sharp, sudden noises right now.
Kurt didn't say anything, just slid himself up onto the piano, sitting there with his legs swinging slightly. Ida put her bag down and followed; she sat next to him, not sure where to put her hands, and eventually settled for bracing them on the piano edge, on either side of her thighs. Kurt studied his boot-clad feet, barely blinking.
"This isn't how I pictured getting an opportunity for a big solo debut," he said finally. "I've fought for the spotlight like no one's business, but if I had known that this was how it would happen, I would've been content to sway in the background. If I'd been smart enough to stick to the periphery, none of this would have happened."
Ida had lived on the periphery all her life. Always quiet, always willing to let others be in front, blocking her view – blending in, turning away, mouth shut. Eventually she forgot the sound of her own raised voice. She never really got to know how it felt to share smiles with people who really knew her, or laughter over inside jokes. Ida only had experience with never having anyone acknowledge she was there, that she existed, that maybe she could be someone that they would find worth their while to get to know.
She inched her hand a little closer to Kurt's leg while he gathered his thoughts again. He was quiet, so quiet, when he spoke next, "It won't fix what's happened, and I don't . . . think I can do it anymore. I think I've used up what inner strength I had. Eventually you get tired – and I'm exhausted, Ida. What am I even doing here?"
Ida exhaled slowly. She wasn't entirely sure what Kurt's plan was, but if he was here, in the auditorium, she could make a reasonable guess. "I think you want to prove to yourself that you can still do this. That there was something that they couldn't take away from you."
"It's the plot of an after-school special and the B-plot at that." He glanced down at Ida's hands as they curled over the lip of the piano lid. "We're not supposed to question the lesson, are we? We're just supposed to learn it and move on."
"But you're more than a badly-acted, cliché 'very special episode'," Ida burst out, completely blindsided by her own frustration and the sudden need to say everything that was on her mind. "And the moral so far – if there even is one – is that bad things happen because people are stupid or evil or caught up in their own pain, and we can't do anything other than survive it. Because, well, what else is there? I'm not leaving my mom, you're not leaving your dad, so we'll both deal and I don't know what good or bad will come of it, but there it is." She echoed Karofsky's words without realizing it at first, but when she did, she just sighed heavily and shrugged, feeling her cheeks flame. She didn't think she'd ever spoken that much, that honestly, to anyone who wasn't her mother.
Kurt was watching her with those incredible eyes of his, but she couldn't read them, didn't want to know what he was thinking. "That was . . . surprisingly helpful. Thank you, Ida. I'm glad it was you that walked into that locker room."
"I . . . you're welcome?" He laughed good-naturedly at her uncertainty, and that gave her another burst of courage. Kurt was her friend now, damn it.
"Since I'm on a roll – I think that everyone trying to get you involved in work, or volunteering, or designing portfolios – they mean well, but that's not what you need. I think you need to do this." She waved her hands to encompass the stage.
"And I think you need to get better, get back into the world, on your own terms. You've had too many decisions taken from you – things have been happening to you and instead you need to make things happen for you, which sounds like some very lame and cheesy self-help shtick, but it's . . . you've had people pushing their thoughts and ideas and feelings on you." She flinched as she thought of Dave. "For once, you should just take what you're feeling and thinking, and push it on everyone else. Make them understand where you're coming from." She had no clue if she was making sense, but she didn't care – she had expressed an opinion, to someone who might actually take it into account, and that felt awesome.
She wasn't expecting to get hugged for it, but Kurt's arms were around her shoulders before she had time to adjust, and she almost slid off the piano as she jumped at the sudden contact. He didn't say anything, and he didn't have to. She was good with silences.
He did ask her to send a text to everyone, asking them to come to the auditorium. He disappeared with his CD as she sent off the message. Within two minutes, the Glee club was pouring in, along with the Hudson-Hummels, Rachel's dads (Ida hadn't even known they were coming), Blaine, Mr. Schuester, Miss Pillsbury, and Ida was pretty sure she saw Coach Sylvester slink into the back, hiding in the shadows. She had no idea how they had managed to leave that assembly without making a scene, but when no one else tumbled in after them, she decided it wasn't important.
They rushed in, chattering and eager for a glimpse of Kurt, and he reappeared, meeting them half way up the aisle. He accepted a few hugs and then, with that same quiet voice, told them, "Okay, so, I suppose explanations are due."
This silenced any remaining conversations and everyone was silent and attentive. A few of them even took seats – Mercedes, Blaine, Mr. Schuester and Miss Pillsbury. Ida took the empty seat in-between Mercedes and Blaine.
Kurt stood in front of them all, and Ida could see, faintly, the line across his forehead that had been a cut, stitches removed a while ago. She knew, after everything Kurt had been through in this short while, that having so many eyes on him, even just those of his friends and family and teachers, had to be pushing him to flee, but he didn't show it at all. He just stood there, staring around at them.
"Kurt," his dad spoke up. "You don't have to –"
"Yes, yes I do." He took a deep breath, exhaled, took in another breath and started speaking, slow and measured. "You all know that I'm leaving, because my dad doesn't feel that I'm safe here. I suppose that's become true. But I think, that if it was up to me . . . I wouldn't leave," he said truthfully, and Ida felt Blaine jerk up in his seat at Kurt's confession. "You're all my closest and best friends." He smiled at Mercedes, who grinned back. "We have one of the best Glee clubs out there, and it's what gave me the strength to keep going when things started getting pretty close to unbearable. Every time I was in that choir room, I could sing and diva out, or even rock out, though that's not necessarily my taste. I'm going to miss that – miss seeing you guys – while I'm away."
He swallowed, looking down at his feet, and when he looked up again, Ida inhaled sharply, pleasantly surprised, because this was more familiar, that look of proud defiance. "But despite everything, good and bad, that's happened here, I'm still me. No one's taken that from me, and no one ever will. That's one thing I'm proud to have," he said with a touch of arrogance. "I have never been ashamed – never been afraid – of showing off or being fabulous, and you all know it."
He took in a breath here, trying to keep his voice steady, but Ida could see a fine tremble in his fingers, because she was looking for it. She tried to send some courage his way with as reassuring a look as she could muster.
"I'm singing for myself right now, and I'm just going to sing the truth. I hope that somehow, you all understand that I'm not leaving because someone hurt me enough to force me to run." Kurt blinked rapidly and his hands flexed uselessly at his sides; Mercedes flinched, Burt swallowed loudly, and Ida saw Puck and Finn exchange looks, jaws clenched. Mr. Schuester was shifting in his seat, regret lining his features. Kurt took another pair of deep breaths before speaking again, "I'm leaving because my father deserves better than being afraid for his son every day I leave for school, and because, quite frankly, they don't deserve to have such fabulousness in their midst here." He finished with a slightly crooked grin, and Tina giggled a little at that. Kurt's smile broadened.
"I wanted to share this with all of you, and, well, make it a goodbye of sorts too, since I am leaving for an indeterminate amount of time." Ida wondered at that – Mr. Hummel seemed adamant about not letting Kurt back into McKinley ever again, but maybe that wasn't feasible. Her mom would transfer her to that private all-girl school if she could, but there was no way they could afford even a semester at that place. The Hummels were slightly better off, but even for them, Dalton was going to be very expensive.
"Could somebody help cue up the music for me?" Kurt asked.
Sam jumped up. "Got it, dude, you do whatever you need to."
Mike stood up as well. "And I'll deal with the lighting – you deserve a spotlight."
Kurt smiled gratefully, and gave everyone else a brief nod before he turned to walk back down to the stage. At that point, the rest of the small crowd took seats in random spots in the auditorium, and Ida turned to see the shadowy form of Coach Sylvester standing in the very back. She was apparently shutting the door behind them, but not before a few more figures crept in – students, most likely, that Ida didn't recognize, but she trusted the terrifying cheerleading coach wouldn't have let them stay if they were trouble makers of any sort.
While she was watching, she saw Officer Henderson poke his head in, moving swiftly and silently down towards their seats.
All the lights dimmed even further than they had already and the lone spotlight flicked on, powerfully bright for a moment before dimming as well, albeit only slightly. Kurt hesitated for a split second before stepping into it, sliding a microphone stand along with him. He adjusted it to his height, letting his hands drop and turning his head to stare at Sam in the shadows. Some silent communication ensued, and after a minute, Kurt gave the smallest of nods.
The music cued up and Ida watched as Kurt took in a deep breath, letting the steady melody flow into him and loosen his limbs, but not his poise. The words were sung slowly, almost conversationally, but with a deep, thrumming power.
"I am what I am, I am my own special creation," he lifted his hands in supplication, "So come – take a look, give me the hook or the ovation." Ida had only ever heard Kurt in low quality YouTube videos – and that had still been impressive. Now, she was distantly aware of her mouth falling open, but the whole of her attention was on the lone singer on stage.
"It's my world that I want to take a little pride in. My world, and it's not a place I have to hide in." His voice was low, smooth and the purest mixture of pain and pride she'd ever heard.
"Life's not worth a damn, 'til you can say, 'Hey world, I am what I am'."
His voice was getting gravelly and much less honey sounding – but it was also picking up steam and still so, so potent and true. There were tears springing into Ida's eyes. Next to her, Blaine was absolutely silent and breathless. His hands were clutching at the armrests as he stared in wide-eyed shock at Kurt baring his soul. On her other side, Mercedes had a hand to her mouth, and the other reached for Ida's. Ida let her take it, and squeezed it tight in return.
"I am what I am, I don't want praise, I don't want pity. I bang my own drum – some think it's noise, I think it's pretty." He went up a bit there, a sweet smile on his face, but it dropped fairly quickly and the barely restrained anger was back.
"And so what, if I love each feather and each spangle – why not try to see things from a diff'rent angle? Your life is a sham 'til you can shout out loud – I am what I am!"
The song picked up speed here and Kurt exploded into motion; he grabbed the microphone, marching to the edge of the stage, glaring at everyone and no one, focusing on some empty chairs, and then up to the balcony, whereupon his clear eyes flashed and held there for a second. He belted out the last verse, practically shouting some of the words.
"I am what am – and what I am needs no excuses. I deal my own deck – sometimes the ace, sometimes the deuces. There's one life, and there's no return and no deposit; one life, so it's time to open up your closet. Life's not worth a damn, 'til you can say, 'Hey world, I am what I am!'"
He held that note on a yell until he couldn't anymore, and when he finished with a nearly inaudible gasp, it took Ida no time at all to shake off her shock and awe, though she was a second behind Burt Hummel, who was already whooping and clapping. She started applauding like a mad woman, jumping to her feet along with everyone else. Rachel was bouncing up and down as she cheered, and Ida spotted Officer Henderson clapping too, smiling broadly, and even putting two fingers in his mouth for a loud whistle. He was standing then, getting ready to leave, but he said something quick to Mr. Hummel, shaking his hand and Mrs. Hudson's, before exiting the auditorium through one of the lower side entrances, grin wide and eyes gleaming faintly. Kurt simply stood there, watching them all before putting the microphone down on the piano, and breaking into a beautiful smile.
Sam came running out of the wings to sweep Kurt up in an enthusiastic hug, and Mike was running down too, grinning widely and taking his turn. In no time at all, everyone was swarming the stage, and jabbering enthusiastically. Rachel was insisting it was, "Just as good as John Barrowman, and you almost touched George Hearn there in the end."
Ida glanced over to the back to see Sue Sylvester still seated, but with the lights darkened, she couldn't see the expression on her face. The students were standing, and the door was opening; Ida caught sight of a couple of girls, and a few boys, one of them was a football jock, she thought – Langster? Rosenthal? She wasn't sure about names, but there was no mistaking the gobsmacked looks on their faces. They were sneaking out quickly, and that reminded Ida of Kurt shooting an intense look upwards as he sang – she whipped her head up to the balcony, but no one was there, and there was no way to tell if anyone had been.
"Good grief, kiddo," Mr. Hummel was saying, wrapping his son up in a tight hug. "You are mind-blowing – I can't believe we're related."
Kurt laughed into his father's shoulder. "I can. It had to come from somewhere, dad. I've heard you sing in the shower, you're not half bad."
" 'Not half-bad' does not add up to being the star you are." His dad pulled back, cupping a large hand on one side of Kurt's neck. "I am so incredibly proud of you."
Mrs. Hudson took her turn, and Finn was next, just as excited as Mr. Hummel, and it seemed like ages passed before Ida managed to make it to the stage, just in time for Blaine to approach Kurt, wonder lingering in his wide eyes. Blaine walked to him, taking a hand, slow and careful, giving Kurt time to pull away. When he didn't, he grinned. "I should have known. I've seen some videos but they pale in comparison to this. You're pretty much already guaranteed a spot on the Warblers, but when we have solo auditions you're going to knock the council's socks off, Kurt, I know you are. I have some serious competition it seems."
"Hm, you best believe it, Anderson. I am all about knocking socks off – and I seem to have a head start with you," Kurt said with a raised eyebrow and a significant glance down. Ida followed his gaze and then held back a giggle at Blaine's ankle pants that revealed his sockless feet in a pair of brown leather loafers.
Blaine flushed but seemed to stand a little straighter. "Hey, you like your boots up to the knee, I hate to wear socks, and we each pick our fashions accordingly."
Kurt raised his free hand in a placating gesture. "No worries, Blaine. There may be a Vogue session in your future, fair warning, but I won't argue the fact that it does rather suit you."
"Well, is that a stamp of approval from Kurt Hummel?" Blaine asked, fingers curling a little tighter around Kurt's.
"It's an 'it'll do for now' note in your docket," Kurt conceded, finally dropping his hand and turning to Ida.
She didn't allow herself any second guessing – she just raised her arms and was thrilled beyond belief when Kurt took the extra step for her, coming to wrap her up in a hug. "Thank you," he whispered in her ear. "For everything, Ida, for absolutely everything."
Ida couldn't think of anything to say to that, but somehow the words were falling from her mouth regardless, "Kurt, no, thank you. For everything you were before this and everything you're going to be from now on. Thank you."
She had no clue, once again, if what she said made any sense, but Kurt was clutching her tightly and she was laughing a little breathlessly, and then he was stepping back, wiping discretely under his eyes, turning around to proclaim a need for some food that wasn't Breadstix. Santana immediately started complaining that there wasn't anything better, and Miss Pillsbury mentioned a small Thai place that she knew of that was recently inspected and passed with flying colours – something she could personally attest to, as she hadn't felt the need to bring her own cutlery to the place. Quinn voiced her own fondness for Thai food and added, "Ida, you said that you liked it too, right?"
She had mentioned it, once, in a random comment on Facebook and it was like a blow to the solar plexus to realize that some had read that and remembered it.
And that cemented it all for her. She had friends. Good friends. That were hers. That listened to her, and liked her, and wanted to be around her. This wasn't temporary, this wasn't a fever dream, this wasn't pity, and this wasn't a mistake.
This was what it was, and she was finally, finally going to stop questioning or doubting it.
Puck was coming up behind her, clapping her on the back, announcing that it should be Kurt's pick as to where they ate. Mercedes was clasping Ida's arm at the same time she was reaching for Kurt's hand.
"Well, Thai gets my vote," Ida said firmly, without any shyness whatsoever. "My mom's on lunch break soon, and I think that place is pretty close to her office."
Kurt nodded. "Well, that sounds good to me. To the cars!"
"Shotgun with Kurt!" Ida called, grinning madly as Mercedes smacked her and demanded control of the music if Ida was claiming the prized passenger seat. Rachel insisted that she be allowed in the SUV as well, and similar arguments ensued as everyone tumbled into different vehicles. Somehow, they ended up blasting music (Kurt was blaring some Queen from his truly impressive speakers, Ida cheering as he and Blaine hit those high notes along with Freddie Mercury), while over with Brittany, Santana, Puck, Sam and Quinn, they had some Rolling Stones going on, Jumpin' Jack Flash nearly overwhelming them. Mike, Tina, Artie and Finn pulled out in front, belting out Highway to Hell. The adults were beeping warnings from behind as they tangoed with the speed limit, and Kurt waved a hand out to his dad from his open window, grinning widely as the wind ruffled his hair.
The song switched tracks and suddenly all the teens in the SUV, including Ida, were laughing and pointedly serenading Kurt, who took it in stride, beaming from the driver's seat. Everyone in Quinn's car and Mike's vehicle turned down their music to sing along too as they pulled up to a red light.
"Caviar and cigarettes, well versed in etiquette, extraordinarily nice," Blaine leaned over from his middle seat in the back, nudging Kurt gently.
Every Glee member, including Ida in her own off-key warble, joined in, "She's a Killer Queen, gunpowder, gelatine, dynamite with a laser beam, guaranteed to blow your mind, anytime."
Suddenly, Ida was singing alone with distant accompaniment from the other cars full of teenagers, "Recommended at the price, insatiable in appetite, wanna try?"
Her voice was that of the tone-deaf, and sounded especially weak in comparison to those of the insanely talented Glee clubbers around her, but there wasn't any wincing or false smiling sent her way – just more laughter and more singing along.
Rachel gave her an exaggerated, awed look as she leaned up to put her hands on Kurt's shoulders from her seat directly behind him. "Perfume came naturally from Paris, for cars she couldn't care less, fastidious and precise."
She didn't think people broke into song like this in real life, but they'd been telling her for weeks now that this was their way of communicating, of celebrating and mourning. Ida had seen it with Kurt on stage as he poured every ounce of pride, shame and hurt into his voice, and now everyone else was laughing, naming Kurt dynamite with a laser beam with all their love and joy for him. The fact that she suspected that the song was about a high-priced call-girl made her beam all the wider, because if there was anything New Directions had taught her, it was that the inappropriate could be hilarious and song lyrics meant whatever you wanted them to.
It was magical and strange and she didn't think it could last forever, but the bonds between these people, they were real, honest, complicated and holding fast.
And now Ida was tangled up in them.
She waved a cheerful good-bye to her days as the invisible wallflower and rolled down her window to shamelessly scandalize Lima with her teenage antics and terrible voice, grinning ecstatically at Mike from her side of the car, and exchanging finger guns with Puck out of Kurt's window.
OOOOOOOOOOOOO
Fin
OOOOOOOOOOOOO
Author's Note: First off, disclaimer on the two songs used in this chapter, which are clearly not mine: I Am What I Am comes from the musical Les Cages Aux Folles, and if you want to hear it in its entirety, you can look up either the George Hearn (original cast) (which I highly recommend!) version or the John Barrowman version (also great!) on YouTube. Killer Queen belongs to Queen, and Freddie Mercury owns all of rock-dom, according to me.
I've had the part with Kurt singing in the auditorium written for almost three years, and I'm kind of shocked Glee hasn't had Kurt sing I Am What I Am in the meantime.
Now, I'm obviously a terrible person who doesn't deserve your forgiveness, but I'm asking for it anyways. There is still an epilogue coming, and I promise to get that up as soon as possible. I have finally finished with school (or at least with my BA), and shall hopefully now have a heck of a lot more time to finish this!
If you're still reading, I adore you. If you're putting this story in your favourites and alerting it, I adore you that much more. And naturally, all you lovely reviewers have my undying devotion and gratitude. But really, all of you readers are amazing and thank you so, so much for putting up with my perpetual tardiness. *hugs*
Ella Greggs and vcg73 gave me a lot of great ideas in terms of lawsuits and consequences for the board and teachers, so much love and thanks to them for that help! Truthfully, I've had many helpful suggestions throughout the course of this story, so I send out a blanket 'thank you' to all of you!