A/N: I AM SO SORRY GUYS! For those of you who follow me on tumblr, you know that I haven't had internet since last Thursday. In gratitude for still reading, I will be uploading another chapter tonight. Thanks so much for still stopping by.

"I am so glad to be back at school," Blaine sighed, slamming his locker shut, "24 hours a day with my parents for two weeks was too much."

"Me too." Dean had a faraway look in his eyes.

"Something wrong?" Blaine looked concerned.

"Nothing much…I was just wondering, do you think those ex-gay things work?"

"What? No, Dean, I don't think they do." Blaine stared at Dean. "Why?"

"It's nothing," Dean mumbled, starting to walk down the hallway, "just forget I said anything."

"Dean," Blaine had to practically run to catch up with him, "no, just tell me what's wrong."

"I said forget it Blaine! So just drop it, okay?"

"It doesn't sound like nothing," Blaine snapped back at him, "now why the hell are you acting like this?"

"Maybe I just want to be fucking normal! I want my dad to look me in the eye, and not just say that he loves me to keep up appearances!"

"You don't think that I don't know what that's like?" Blaine roared back at Dean, who looked surprised. "Do you think I enjoy being called a fag by my dad? Do you think I live to see him look at me like he's disappointed? Do you know how much it hurts when my aunt calls me a fairy and he takes her side? What about when my mom asks me about girls? Do you think that that's just awesome for me? You're not the only one with shitty parents, Dean!"

"I'm sorry, Blaine, I'm sorry," Dean was looking at his shoes, "but maybe we shouldn't do this in the hallway. People are watching."

"They know. They all know. It's not like they won't talk to me because I'm a leper. They know that I'm gay, they know that you're gay, and you know what? They're just going to blame this on me being an angry queer."

Blaine stomped down the hallway, trying not to cry. He just needed to make it to the bathroom, then he could cry. Blaine finally ran into the bathroom, locking himself in the handicapped stall. He heard footsteps come in after him.

"Blaine," Dean sighed, "Blaine, I know you're in here. I can hear you crying. Please, don't cry."

"Leave me alone," Blaine sobbed, "I don't need you! Just leave."

Blaine heard Dean walk right up to the handicapped stall. "Blaine, I'm really sorry. I didn't think-"

"You're right, you didn't. Did you think my dad sent me to counseling for my own benefit? Don't you think I would change if I could? Just go."

"I didn't know your dad sent you to counseling," Dean mumbled, "and I'm not leaving until you come out of that stall. Do you have any idea how pathetic this looks?"

"Oh, now I'm pathetic. Well excuse me if the only other gay guy I know has decided that he wants to try to think himself straight."

"Blaine-" Dean had started when Blaine swung the door to the stall open, hitting Dean in the head.

"What the fuck, Blaine!" Dean shouted, clutching his head.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry! Let me see it, come on."

"No, you'll just hurt it more! Don't touch it."

They both heard the bell ring.

"And now we're late to orchestra because of your little emotional outburst," Dean spat, while still clutching his head, "I hope you're happy."

"I'm really sorry," Blaine responded sheepishly, "oh my God!"

"What?" Dean had just stopped clutching his head.

"Your eye. Oh my God, I'm so sorry."

Dean slowly walked over to the mirrors to inspect the damage. "Jesus Christ! You gave me a black eye with the door!"

"I really am sorry."

"You owe me. I can't believe you gave me a black eye. You owe me so much. Your firstborn or adopted or whatever is sounding good right about now."

"I'm sorry," Blaine sounded exasperated, "we really should get to orchestra. Even if you sit in the back of the violas, I am the concertmaster."

"Yes, your highness. I won't even tell them that you hit me with a door."

"It was an accident!"

"Come on," Dean said, "oh, wait, let me get the door so you don't HIT anybody with it!"

"That's low."

"Says the boy who hit me with the door." Dean was holding the door wide open and gesturing towards the hallway. "Quick, we don't want to get caught by the hall supervisor."

"You're a jackass," Blaine muttered as he exited the bathroom.

"That may be, but at least I didn't hit you with a door."

Orchestra was uneventful, Ms. Martin was angry at them for being late, but she didn't give them a detention or anything. She did question them about the black eye, though. When she heard the story, she started laughing hysterically. Apparently she had done the same thing to one of her friends in high school.

At lunch, Dean plopped down next to Blaine and announced, "You're taking me to the Sadie Hawkins dance. THAT will make up for the black eye."

"Are you sure that's a good idea? We're two guys-"

"And, as you so eloquently shouted this morning," Dean interrupted, "everyone knows we're gay. It's not like they haven't noticed."

"Okay, okay! We'll go. You'll have to drive though, seeing as I'm fifteen."

"Nope. I had my car taken away at Christmas for calling my grandpa 'a fucking homophobe'. Ask your dad."

"He'll drop me off, we can meet there, then he can pick us both up, deal?"

"I don't know…I feel a concussion coming on from someone hitting me with a-"

"God, I'm never going to live this down, am I?"

"Not likely," Dean replied, "but yeah, we'll just have your dad pick us up at the end. That should work."

"Good. Now can we stop with the door thing? I said I was sorry."

"I'll forgive you more if you buy me an ice cream."

"Fine, you whiner."

"Um, dad?" Blaine had knocked on the doorway to his dad's study.

"Yes, Blaine," his dad answered, not looking up from whatever he was studying.

"I was wondering…I was going to go to the Sadie Hawkins dance with a group…and could you give me a ride? It's in two weeks on a Friday night."

"Fine," his dad looked up then asked, "you're not going with that Harmon boy, are you?"

"No dad," Blaine quickly lied, "he'll be in the group, but he won't be my date or anything."

"Okay, then sure, you can go. Do we need to get you a tuxedo ?"

"No dad, it's not a super formal thing. I'll just wear a shirt and tie."

"Good. Can you leave now? I'm busy with this brief right now and don't have time for this."

"Fine," Blaine muttered, leaving, "whatever. Not like you care anyway."

Brian Anderson ran his hand through his hair. When was Blaine going to learn to pick a different group? He's going to get himself hurt hanging out with these people, Brian thought, he needs to stop it with this phase.