Chapter 9: Overheard

He couldn't believe—simply could not believe—that he had said that to Kurt in the hallway. He didn't know whether to be proud of himself, ashamed of himself, pissed off, terrified, or some other emotion that would fit better than all four. The truth was, he was all four. He was proud of himself for trying to make nice with Kurt, and even a little bit for telling him he thought he was beautiful. He was ashamed of himself because he couldn't just stand up to Azimio and stop trying to keep the approval of the football jocks and puckheads at the expense of his own integrity. He was pissed off with himself that he'd let something like that out, made himself so vulnerable, in front of Hummel. And he was terrified—no, completely petrified—with fear at the thought of Kurt walking around knowing that Dave was gay, and that he found him beautiful.

It was really getting hard to sleep at night, to be honest. And his absolute certainty that his million-times-damned cousin was most definitely up to something bigger than a slushie war wasn't helping at all.

Kurt had never felt so confused. Okay, maybe when he was trying to get his dad to pay more attention to him by trying to act straight and butch. That had been confusing, and he had been out of his element, and looking back on it made him cringe—flannel and Mellencamp…well, no one could accuse him of doing things halfway—but this. This was ridiculous. He was a diva, wasn't he? He was the most driven, most talented, most fashionable person he knew, wasn't he? That's what he kept telling himself. He was Kurt Hummel, for crying out loud.

So why was he unable to puzzle out why Dave Karofsky's face kept popping into his head?

Kurt held no illusions about himself; despite all of his melodrama and his occasional propensity towards bitchy, demanding behavior, he actually saw himself quite clearly. He knew he was melodramatic, and also a hopeless romantic. He knew he was beautiful, even if it was a soft, feminine kind of beauty that was more likely to attract girls with mother complexes than men with—well, anything he was looking for. But to have Karofsky, of all people, tell him he was beautiful? It just floored him. He couldn't wrap his mind around it, and the worst part was that the mystery it presented, the essential and unavoidable wrongness of the whole situation…it intrigued him. It spoke to the Kurt underneath the diva, the glossy-eyed, painfully and awkwardly honest, sincere Kurt that had confessed his feelings to Finn once in the auditorium.

I honestly love you, he'd said without meaning to. Without thinking…he'd been alone, without witnesses and without anyone else diverting Finn's attention from him, and although the taller boy was undoubtedly dumb as a rock, there was something sunshiny and sweet and just good in his face that drew Kurt in irresistibly. And he'd just come right out and said it.

Luckily, Finn had thought Kurt was naming a song, or had graciously pretended to think so. I mean, really, how dense can a person be? He doesn't seem nearly that bad at home. Kurt had a sneaking suspicion, actually, that a lot of Finn's cluelessness was a put-on that he kept in place for school so he wouldn't have to deal too much with the feelings of the people around him. He wondered idly if Karofsky put on the same kind of mask before he came into school—except instead of pretending not to notice others' feelings, he pretended not to care, to enjoy trampling them, just to keep himself from getting trampled on.

Sighing, Kurt looked at his watch. Great. That was a full five minutes I spent not thinking about Dave Karofsky. What in the name of all that is good and Prada is wrong with me tonight?

But he knew what it was, although he tried hard not to look at it too closely or give it too much weight in his head. Kurt knew he was beautiful, and he knew he was talented, but that didn't mean that getting pushed around and treated like trash all the time didn't take its toll on his sense of self-worth, and it didn't mean he didn't find it incredibly affirming just to hear someone else voice those opinions of him every once in awhile. And to hear them come from that voice…deeper than his own would probably ever be, man-like already, and so sincere while still so furtive and embarrassed. His cheeks had gone so red when he'd said it—

Ack! Stop it, Kurt, right this instant. Stop thinking about him right now!

He rolled over on his back and tried to obey his own thoughts, but to no avail. This was wrong, utterly and completely wrong. Dave Karofsky had bullied him, terrified him, practically assaulted him and stolen his first real kiss away without so much as a by-your-leave. A part of him hated Karofsky for that, but another part of him was still turning the boy's words from earlier in the day over and over in his mind. He knew it probably made him the most twisted attention whore in the history of humankind, but he felt a slow smile spreading across his face.

Somewhere out in this world, someone thought he was beautiful.

Melodie was up in her attic room again, but this time she was practically ready to explode with excitement. She paced up and down so briskly that she heard Dave yelling up at her to stop the stampede already. She didn't even spare a smirk in his general direction, she was so wired.

She had heard the whole damn thing.

After they'd slushied the two jocks in the hallway, the gleeks had beaten a quick retreat to the choir room, mostly to look innocent while secretly congratulating each other on their own relatively safe turf. But then, halfway to the choir room, Melodie noticed that Kurt wasn't with them. Worried—what if some of the other jocks had decided to single him out for revenge?—she turned back, and she was ecstatic that she had. Approaching the hall where the locker rooms were situated, Melodie had slowed down when she'd heard voices. One high, clear, and prim—Kurt, of course—and one gruff, lowered secretively, but she knew it anyway. It was Dave.

Curious, and feeling like she just might finally find out what was going on with Dave's intense bullying of Kurt, she had paused, just around the corner, just out of sight. Just in time to hear everything she'd needed to.

"—won't tell anyone about it for the sake of not outing you." Melodie's eyes popped as wide as they were able. Was Kurt talking to Dave about being gay? "But let's make this clear; I didn't want it. I didn't invite it, and I did not enjoy it in the least." Melodie felt herself getting a little nauseous. Had Dave done something to Kurt? Surely not…he was a huge jerk, but he wasn't— "Of all the ways to have my first kiss," Melodie slowly and quietly let out a huge sigh of relief, "that is absolutely not the way I would have—"

"Wait…what? That was your first kiss?" Melodie rolled her eyes at the mortified expression she could just imagine on David's face. Didn't he know it wouldn't matter that much in either direction? With the way he'd been treating Kurt, it not having been his first kiss wouldn't have made it any better. But the fact that it was just made it so much worse. She listened intently, eyes so wide it was almost painful, as Dave confessed to having his first gay kiss with Kurt, and Kurt let him have it in a way that made Melodie a tiny bit proud. He was finally standing up for himself a bit. Then Dave surprised her.

"Kurt…I'm sorry. I'm so sorry…if I had known…I shouldn't have…you were just so…"

"What?" came Kurt's reply, and although it was lost upon Dave's defeated ears, Melodie's were perked to their maximum potential, and she caught the curiosity ringing under the exasperation, and wondered at it.

"Beautiful," mumbled Dave, and then she heard the creak of a door. Quietly, she tiptoed backwards as fast as she could and slipped into the girls' restroom about halfway down the hall. Just in time, too, because a mere matter of seconds later, she heard Kurt walking toward her hiding place.

Now, alone in her attic room, she stopped pacing and threw herself backwards onto her bed, running the scene over and over in her mind. She could hardly believe the whole thing had happened. Had her big homophobic jerk of a cousin really confessed to kissing Kurt Hummel? Huh…I guess the more I think about it, the more it makes some sense, she thought grudgingly. I mean, he gave Kurt a harder time than anyone. And then he kissed him. If Kurt had pigtails, David would be the stupid little boy pulling them on the playground. She rolled her eyes at the notion. Still…this presented such an opportunity. The prank of a lifetime! Dave would never see it coming. Hell, if she played her cards right, he would never even know he had been pranked. Admittedly, it lacked the bite of all her previous shenanigans, but the fact that she might rid the world of a closet-case homophobe in the process more than made up for that.

Melodie jumped off her bed and resumed her frantic pacing, her face set in lines of excited determination. Before I leave this little town, she promised herself silently, my big jerk of a cousin will be dating Kurt Elizabeth Hummel.