A/N: Here's the next installment! Enjoy! And look at the bottom when you're done, because there's a little bonus waiting for ya. ;D
Part XI: Repercussions
.K U R T.
When my dad and Carole come home, they're all smiles and hugs. Finn and I greet them warmly, and I even convinced Finn to help me make a small bunt cake for them for when they got back. It's nothing special; 7Up cake, a real basic recipe. But my dad devours it, proclaiming how yummy it is, and Carole pats me on the shoulder, laughing and saying that I might outdo her when it comes to being the baker of the household.
It feels so wonderful to have Carole as a stepmom. She's sweet and patient and keeps my goofy father in line. And she seems to know just what's on my mind, which is how a mother should be.
"Kurt, you seem awfully cheerful," she hints slyly. "Did something good happen while we were gone?"
Two things flash into my mind at once: first of all, that Finn and I have to face them about the scrimmage at school, finally confessing its occurrence. And second of all, that I kind of have my first date with a guy this Friday.
I force a smile. "Um. Well. A good and a bad thing, actually. Could you sit down? And Finn, can you fetch my father?" I say, turning to look at him. He has his fork raised to his mouth, about to consume another bite of cake when he notices the look in my eyes and thinks twice about continuing. He sets his fork and plate down on the table and nods his head.
In moments, Finn and I are standing awkwardly before our parents. "Should I start?" Finn wants to know.
I shake my head. This is my deal. And I'm both thankful and regretful to making my bruises heal so quickly, because proof is proof. I let out a strangled breath. "So. Dad, Carole. Right after you guys left, I… well, I was cornered outside the school by some of those bullies. A fight broke out."
"Oh my God! Are you okay, Kurt?" Carole says, leaping off the couch.
"Son, why didn't you tell us?" my father frowns, but he's also concerned. He's standing as well.
I wince. "I'm fine now, honest. I just didn't want to spoil your honeymoon. The last thing you need is more teen drama." I wave their concerns aside. "Besides, you didn't let me finish. During the fight, one of the bullies whose heart wasn't in it to begin with had a change of heart entirely and went to get help. He found Puck and Finn, and the three of them warded off the thugs. Admittedly, I got a little banged up and fainted, but the guy who got Finn and Puck took me to the nurse's office. So he helped me. He used to harass me, but he helped me," I say desperately, trying to make them see that Dave's changed before I eventually tell them about my date and who it's with.
"Who was it?" my dad is saying between clenched teeth. I can tell he's trying his hardest not to explode, not to call the school or the police for revenge. I know that he's aware of the reason why I was assaulted. It's always the same reason.
"Who? The thugs? Because I didn't recognize all of them except maybe Azimio –" I begin.
My dad shakes his head. "No. The boy who helped you."
"That was Karofsky," Finn says, finally getting a word in. "He used to bully Kurt all the time, maybe even the worst. But since he saw Kurt get so beat up, and saw how serious things got, he's been real cool. He's even come over a couple times."
I pivot to stare at Finn. How does he know? – Oh, I forgot: Dave left his jacket. He forgot to take it back after our sleep over. And besides that, Finn knows that I had a friend over yesterday.
"Is that so?" my father mutters, most likely torn between giving Dave a piece of his mind and thanking him. "Well. Change of heart or not, he still hurt my boy –"
"No, he didn't," Finn and I say at the same time. We exchange curious glances – sibling telepathy already? – and I finish, "He really didn't even lay a hand on me. He looked… confused. And like he didn't want to be doing it anymore. And he hasn't done anything to hurt me since."
He's gotten angry with me, sure, but it's true. He hasn't injured me in the least.
My dad frowns and hums in thought. Carole looks between us, and finally makes up her mind to smile. She touches my shoulder. "Well. Thanks for telling us, you two. Secrets aren't good for a new family. And I'm glad that things worked out. Did the abusers get in trouble?"
Finn answers this one for me. "Oh, yeah. Definitely. It was sweet justice when some of them got suspended or expelled." And he's grinning darkly. It's not a look that suits him.
"I'm glad," Carole says, and she looks to my dad. "How are you feeling about all this, honey?"
He exhales loudly and lifts his cap to run his hand over his head. "I feel like I need to never leave again. It'll just about kill me if I'm not here and something like this happens again."
I laugh weakly, and Finn even offers a breathless chuckle. Then we're all standing there in an awkward silence.
I break it with a quick, "Yeah, so, I guess you guys won't care if I go on a date on Friday, right?"
I spoke so fast that the three of them gape at me for a minute, trying to process the words. Finn is the first to react. "Wait, what? Dude, when did this happen? Is it with that Blaine guy, the one from Dalton?"
I flinch a little. "Um. No…"
"Then who is it, son?" my dad requests mildly, but I can see a spark of something in his eyes.
"Er… Dave?" I say quietly, and Finn's eyes are bulging out of his skull.
"Who?" our parents question in unison.
I laugh humorlessly. "Dave Karofsky."
"Hold on. Isn't that who Finn said helped you? One of the bullies?" my dad is saying, and he's slowly growing tense. Practically seething.
"Y-yes?" I stutter, shrinking back some. "But like I said, he's okay now; he only picked on me because he was gay and didn't know what to do about it, and –"
"How can you even say that?" my dad hollers, his voice escalating with his word. He's livid, and Finn and I are terrified. "This guy – Dave, was it? – harasses you for years, doing all sorts of cruel things to you, calling you names, and you're trying to tell me that it was his elementary way of expressing that he likes you, and that he's now trying to date you? I'm sorry, Kurt, I love you and you're my son, but how am I supposed to see things your way this time? It doesn't add up. It sounds pretty damn masochistic if you ask me."
"Burt…" Carole murmurs, laying her hand on his forearm to steady him. "Please, I love how protective you are of your baby, but this might not be the time to be that way. Kurt must have his reasons, and I'm sure this Dave isn't nearly as bad as he seems. I trust Kurt's judgments; he knows not to associate with what's bad for him. And who knows? Maybe being with Kurt will change this boy and help him come to terms with himself and his sexuality. This could be a good thing," she says soothingly, and at the moment, I'm praising the God I barely believe in for sending this woman into our family. She's an angel.
Finn looks uncomfortable. "If it's any, you know, consolation… You could meet Karofsky. Talk to him and stuff. See if you'll let Kurt see him."
I shoot Finn a look; does he realize that doing so could go horribly wrong?
My dad ponders this. Soon he's nodding his head. "Yeah, all right. Let me meet the jerk and see if he's truly changed." And then he's leaving, and I'm left standing between Finn and Carole.
There's a pause in everyone's actions and words as a thick silence fills in the gap of where my father had been part of the conversation.
"…I think that went rather well," Carole says brightly, shattering the blank moment.
I simply hang my head.
xXx
.D A V E.
When I return to my grandma's on Sunday, I come home to an empty house. It feels spooky when it's so barren; her house should have people in it. Namely her, but lately there's also been me and my mom, and now no one's here.
A tad shaken (not that I would ever let anyone know how much I detest being left alone with myself), I reach for the landline phone and dial my mom's cell number. I'd use my own cell, but it needs charging and I'd rather let my mom see the number on the caller ID and realize that I'm back here safely.
It rings once, twice, and then my mother's voice emerges through the dial tone. "Dave!" she says as if she had scrambled around to get to her phone, "You're back at Mom's?"
"Yeah," I say. "But where are you two?"
I can hear her sigh into the receiver. "We're… at home. Your father's house. He just left in a huff, but we're trying to sort things out. I told him that I was going to divorce him, and that I'm taking the house. He slapped me and left."
"Mom…"
She waves it aside with a soft, "Mm-nn," telling me not to worry, but I am. I hate it when my dad strikes her like that. It makes me burn with anger so intense inside that I want to scream.
I growl, "I swear, if I see him, I'm giving him a piece of my fist –"
"Oh, Dave, don't!" my mother cries, and I can hear the tears in her voice when it wavers on my name. "Please. He's your father, and even if you're mad at him and even though I'm leaving him, you still have to respect that. Just leave it to the adults, okay? We'll handle things."
"Adults?" I echo. I scowl at the phone and switch ears as I turn and kick at a pile of text books I left on the floor. My toe throbs in pain since I'm not wearing shoes, but I ignore it. "I'm seventeen! I'm nearly eighteen, and that's an adult. At the moment, I feel more mature than my fucking father, since I at least have the decency to know when not to hit somebody and storm out!" I'm yelling, and I know that doesn't make her feel any better, but damn it all, I'm pissed.
"Dave, it was just a little slap. And he'll be back, and we'll sort things out. Please don't be angry…" my mother is mumbling through her tears, trying to calm me down. "Don't… don't do anything rash, okay, sweetie?"
"Rash? Rash would be to go out in my car and search for the bastard. I'm not an idiot, Mom; I know that I would get my ass kicked. He still hates me for being gay, and that's what started this whole mess! Why aren't you angry with me for sabotaging your marriage? Why aren't I getting slapped instead?" I say, my voice breaking at the end. I feel hot, furious tears singe my eyes, but I rub them away with as much pressure as it takes from keeping them from falling.
My mother is silent for a minute, the only sound being her sniffles. Then: "Dave, that's not true. Y-you didn't sabotage our marriage. I love you just the way you are, so please… d-don't beat yourself up for this. This has been progressing over a l-long period of time. Little problems that… that your father and I just couldn't fix."
I shrug, still on edge, but let her finish talking. I'm not sure I believe every word. She's too polite to say whether or not I'm a factor in this, even though I know I am. This isn't a coincidence that this is happening after I shouted out my sexuality to them during a heated moment. I know that, and she can't fucking tell me otherwise, denying everything.
"Davey? This is Granny. Hey, listen to your mama, and believe her when she tells you that this isn't you. Don't ever think that this is because of you. All kids beat themselves up over divorces, but the truth is, it's always a relationship problem between the parents that's usually been accumulating over the years. Okay?" my grandma says in her frail old-lady voice, but there is a certain strength and truth backing up her words that makes me actually pay attention and maybe trust what she's saying.
"Okay, Mam-maw," I answer at length, my voice softer.
I can hear a smile in her voice as she says in return, "All right, hun. Now here's your mother again."
And I spend the next half hour calming my mom down on the phone while she weeps, and making empty promises and sending hopeful words about the future. She clings to each phrase like a drowning woman to a raft in a sea of misery. I know I did something right when I hang up and she isn't crying any more.
I hate bullshit like this. I wish it would all up and vanish.
But as bad as this seems, I keep reminding myself that it gets better. It's a phrase I heard regarding gays who were being abused because of what gender they prefer, but I realize that the same can apply to everything about everything.
I remind myself that it's okay if I have all this bad shit piling up on my plate now; because I'll get passed it, people will get over it, and hey, I just so happen to have a date this coming Friday.
And I take note in the back of my mind that for some reason, I actually have a positive outlook on life, as opposed to how I normally used to see things.
…Wonder if Hummel's the cause of it.
Could be.
End Part XI: Repercussions.
A/N: SHAMELESS SELF-PLUG AHEAD.
I made a little comic to poke fun at Chris Colfer and Max Adler and how weird it must have been preparing for that kiss scene back in 2x06. The idea came to me something like this...
#Chris reads the script for NBK and an idea hits him when he comes to the kiss scene. He goes out in search of his fellow actor, Max Adler.#
Chris: Hey Max!
Max: Huh? ...Oh, hi, Chris. What's up?
Chris: I was just reading the new script and I noticed that we have a big kiss scene we have to do. And I was wondering... do you want to practice it? It seems important to the episode, so I think we should make it as good as we can. So, want to?
Max: #hesitates# #blushes slightly# Um... okay, I guess. Sure.
#one back-and-forth session of dialogue later...#
Max: ... #notices something# #breaks the kiss# Um, Chris?
Chris: Yeah~?
Max: ...It says in the script that you're not supposed to kiss me back.
Chris: Does it~?
Max: #blushing# Yeah. So why are you?
Chris: #grinning# My mistake. Sorry. Let's try again~? #wink#
Max: ...
Chris: Heeheehee~
END.
Here's a link to the comic I made (please remove spaces): poetic-kitsune. deviantart. com/art/Not-Supposed-To-Kiss-Back-187125793
See you guys next chapter~! And please don't forget to leave a review! I'm a (not-so-secret) feedback whore, after all. :D
