This was practically already written weeks ago. But I'm just posting it now. Sorry. Been busy.
To the Teacher who reviewed recently: I completely understand your point of view, and thank you for establishing it. Melrose is indeed an irresponsible teacher who shouldn't be allowed to teach, and her shortcomings are often undeservingly covered up by her friends (the glee kids and Will Schuester). However, I think you're judging her too quickly. We don't know everything about her yet, you don't know her motivation for behaving the way she does.
To sum up what we know so far: She's twenty-two years old, has issues, and she's going through a major crisis; she ran away from a marriage engagement for reasons we haven't found out yet; she barely had role models in her life (parents were practically inexistent); she's never cared much about anything or anyone (with the exception of Kurt and Burt); and she's not without vices (but she's from Europe, so that's normal). The only reason the school hired her (against anyone's better judgment), is because there were no other subs available at the moment, and they were kind of desperate. They also seem to be unaware that she's such a lousy teacher (well, who would look at her CV and think she was qualified in the first place?). And the reason Melrose applied for the job was to be close to Kurt, and the only thing she found she might be able to do in Lima was teach French (after all, she taught Kurt pretty well).
Melrose doesn't think much of herself. Her crisis made her run to the only place where she still had some sort of family. What she's looking for is friends to distract her; hence the situation with the drunk kids in her apartment. She thinks of herself as "one of the gang", because she just doesn't want to grow up. She is still rather immature and she doesn't think much of the consequences of her actions. I know people like her. I'm actually one of them.
I say you're judging her too quickly, because you have yet to give her a chance to make up for her mistakes, learn from them, and come out of her crisis. At least Will is there to help her through. I also understand that you're a young teacher and you can be very responsible no matter how young you are. I've been a teacher myself, and I must say it did help me acquire a sense of responsibility. But I've had teachers, some of them have become great friends of mine, that desperately need a reality check as well; their desire to be "one of the gang", like Melrose, has hindered their ability to make the difference between being cool and approachable and just being plain immature.
On the other hand, I have to disagree with you on one point you made: in your opinion, Melrose and her behavior seem to you as "very unrealistic, even for a show like Glee"? Really? No offense, but you're talking about the show which features a cheerleading coach that throws tantrums almost every day, shoves students against lockers on a regular basis, plots evilly against the Glee club every week, married herself, dressed up as the Grinch to steal presents, threatened to pull out all of Artie's molars, tried to shoot Brittany out of a human cannon... And that's only one character... I'm sorry, but is that actually normal in American high schools?
I'm not making fun of you. I just hope you understand where I'm coming from, just like I understand where you're coming from. Just wanted to make it clear why I wrote her the way I did.
Maybe I should've put this under a link to my tumblr or something... oh well... Sorry for the length.
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. It belongs to Ryan Murphy and FOX.
Blackened blue eyes
-by HappyValentina
The sky overhead faded to grey quickly. It was all he could see for a moment, before he shut his eyes, in an attempt to shut out the pain.
Football practice ended later than expected; when it was finally over, the guys shuffled tiredly into the locker room, barely speaking, the usually boisterous banter absent from the showers. Coach Beiste had really put them to work today. Most of the guys showered, dressed and started to dwindle pretty quickly.
Dave, however, had been done with practice a bit earlier; coach Beiste had noticed he was distracted and somewhat aloof, and told him to leave before she got any more frustrated with him. But that didn't stop him from being frustrated with himself; he stayed too long in the shower, trying to wash off the defeat by standing immobile under the water stream, and by the time he was done kicking himself mentally, the rest of the time had been finally sent to the showers too. At least they were too tired to speak, otherwise he would've gotten an earful of taunts.
He took his time putting his equipment inside his locker and packing his duffel bag, and sort of watched the Glee guys. As always, they were hanging out together in one corner, trying to stay out of the way of the rest of their teammates, hoping to be spared any grief, at least for the day.
While most of them were too tired to move, Sam and Mike were already getting dressed. Dave blushed and quickly looked away as Sam pulled on a clean t-shirt. He felt bad, he always felt bad if he watched, but he could barely help it.
Taking a deep breath, he slammed his locker shut, and walked past them without a glance in their direction. They ignored him too. He walked out to the field and started on his way home.
When practice ended late, Dave usually went around the school building, because it was closer to the parking lot. No one usually went that way, since it was also the way to the back of the cafeteria, and therefore right by the the extra-smelly cafeteria dumpsters.
But it was a shortcut, and he never ran into anyone he didn't want to see. He never ran into anyone at all. Until this afternoon.
As he approached the corner, he heard the distinct sound of glass breaking, and he stopped.
He looked around for the source of the noise. Coach Beiste was off in the field yelling at the kids gathering equipment. There was no one else nearby. All his teammates left the locker room in the other direction, through the school building, as they always did. There seemed to be no one around, and he didn't see anything.
Hesitantly, he turned the corner. And he saw people there, unlike every other time he used that shortcut.
There were two guys, though he couldn't see them very well, at first glance looked like no one he knew from school. They danced around. No, they weren't dancing. They were stomping on the ground. There was a person on the ground, and they were stomping and kicking at him.
"Hey!" Dave shouted instinctively. These guys were attacking someone, someone who was already down. He tried to look at their faces, but he couldn't tell from where he was standing. All he could make out was bulky and blonde and tall and dark-skinned.
Dave started walking in their direction, bravely, hoping to get a better look. At the sound of his voice, the two boys stopped their abuse and turned to him.
He still could not make out their faces very well. The dark one stood somewhat behind the blond one, while the blond one seemed to have something all over his face. It looked like blood. Their features were darkened by the waning afternoon light, too.
"What do you think you're doing?" Dave called again, sounding braver than he really felt. After all, there was two of them, and only one of him. No one else was around, no one else seemed to have heard the sound of glass shattering. The person on the ground wasn't making any sounds, either.
The dark boy nudged the blond one, and they started to move away, the blond boy wiping the blood off his face in the process, and spitting on the grass.
Shit, he ought to do something. Go after them, or something. But as they darted off, quicker as he approached, he stood there and watched them disappear. He certainly had not been looking for a confrontation, and he was glad that he at least he had stopped them and scared them away. He thought he'd better help whoever was on the ground.
His eyes widened in horror as soon as they fell on the prone figure.
"Kurt?"
Kurt Hummel lay limply on his side, his left arm pinned awkwardly under his body, his right arm lying on the grass at a weird angle. He had blood coming from his nose, his lips, and a wound on his forehead. There were cuts all over his body.
Dave fell to his knees beside him and grabbed his shoulder. "Kurt!" he yelled, shaking him gently. "Kurt! Wake up! Shit!" he exclaimed and ran his hands over his own hair nervously. He looked around. There was no one in sight. The attackers had already disappeared. "Fuck!" he leapt to his feet and took a couple of steps back, then ran the way he came from.
"Coach Beiste!" he yelled. "Finn! Somebody! Help!"
About fifty yards away, he saw the female coach look up and spot him, and he waved his arms before disappearing around the corner again.
"Kurt? Wake up, Kurt," he kept saying, dropping next to him again, and shaking him over and over, as slightly and carefully as he could. His mouth was dry.
Dave could never imagine doing this to someone; leaving someone like this. He used to shove kids into lockers, throw them in dumpsters, slushy them. But beat them until they were rendered unconscious?
He didn't know what to do. He felt like he never knew what to do. He was scared all the time, but now he was even more scared. He was panicking.
"Please, Kurt, please," he said in a trembling voice.
Suddenly, Kurt opened his eyes.
"D...you..." Kurt mumbled unintelligibly, as more blood seeped from his mouth onto a little puddle on the grass.
"I didn't do this to you," was all Dave could say, his voice breaking. Kurt kept looking at him, but didn't say anything else. His gaze seemed lost, like he was looking straight through Dave.
He hoped Kurt believed him. He wondered if he even knew what had happened.
Maybe he shouldn't have scared them away. Maybe he should've gone for help and come back with a bunch of people, but what if they had left while he went for help? Then he wouldn't have been able to see them, their faces. He started trying to remember their faces. Their clothes.
He heard them coming, whoever they were. He relaxed a little. He sure as hell didn't know what to do in a situation like this, he was never good with emergencies. Someone else would know what to do. Kurt would be fine. He had to be fine.
"What was that?" Artie asked.
"Sounded like glass breaking," Sam answered, pulling his varsity jacket out of his locker and putting it on. He slammed the door shut, and Artie shushed him. "What?"
"Nothing. I just thought I'd hear something else."
"Shit, I think I busted my knee. Hope Mr. Schue doesn't expect us to dance today. I need to put heat on this, and drug myself or something," Puck declared, rubbing his right knee and wincing.
"I hope he doesn't really expect us at all anymore. I'd hate to be the one to tell him that he and the others just waited for over an hour for nothing," Mike said tiredly, shoving his dirty clothes into his bag and zipping it close. "I really just want to go home."
"Well, according to this message, they're still waiting for us," Finn said, pulling his cellphone out of his locker. There were a few texts from Mr. Schue and a couple from Rachel. "I guess we better get a move on, if only to beg them to postpone practice."
"I'll just get dressed without showering, then. If I stand under the hot water stream, I'll stay there forever." Puck shrugged.
"Shh!" Artie hissed.
They shut up, giving Artie annoyed looks. But suddenly they were all as alert as him. They all heard the voice.
"Did someone call my name?" Finn asked.
"And then 'help'?" Mike added.
"We better go see," Artie said, wheeling himself toward the door.
"Unless it's some prank by the other guys on us Glee guys. As you can see, we're the only ones left here," Puck announced. But they started moving out of the already empty locker room.
"Finn," coach Beiste said, coming through the door that led to the field. "Something's going on."
"Wh-what happened?" Finn asked nervously.
"I don't know, but follow me," she said, and she ran back out to the field.
The five boys followed her, Puck pushing Artie so they could keep up. Coach Beiste was heading to the side of the school building, a shortcut most people rarely used on weekdays, because of the smell from the cafeteria dumpsters.
They rounded the corner, and Finn saw Dave Karofsky leap up to his feet.
"I didn't know what to do, I wanted to call for help, but I left my phone in my locker, and I thought I shouldn't leave him either, I don't know how bad he is, I saw the guys who did it, but they're gone, and I thought of going after them but I didn't want to leave him," Dave said in one runaway sentence as the coach and the five boys ran up to him. They looked down, and saw that Dave was standing next to a person lying on the ground. Finn registered who it was.
"Kurt! Oh my God, Kurt!"
He dropped to his knees beside his step-brother, much like Dave had done just before. The pale boy was paler still, and he looked at Finn and tried to talk. There was glass everywhere. The window behind them was smashed.
"He's awake," Dave said, now sounding like he was trying to hold back a sob, "he's still awake, but I haven't called for help because I don't have my phone with-" before he could finish his sentence, Puck and Finn had slammed him up against the wall and held him there.
"What did you do?" Finn shouted, face red with rage.
"What the fuck did you do?" Puck echoed, just as fiercely.
"Hey!"
"You son of a bitch! You did this to him!" Finn yelled.
"I didn't! I found him! There were two guys!" Dave shouted in response. Both Finn and Puck were breathing heavily into his face, and he blinked back tears.
"You've always threatened to do it!" Finn shook him roughly.
"No! No, I-"
"You pushed it, Karofsky! I warned you!" Puck sneered.
"I swear it wasn't me!"
"Hey!"
Finn and Puck were suddenly pulled off of him by coach Beiste. "That's enough! Finn, we have to help your brother first," she shouted, shaking Finn and Puck slightly by their arms. The boys were shaking with rage.
Dave didn't move, gasping for breath and trembling. He saw Artie had pulled out his phone and had already dialed 911. Sam and Mike were leaning over Kurt.
"Kurt? Stay with us," Sam was saying.
"Stay put, Karofsky," coach Beiste said.
"What do we do?" Mike asked, as Sam was pulling off his jacket and putting it over Kurt.
"We have to keep him awake," Sam answered. Finn started running his hands nervously through his hair, not knowing what else to do while Artie talked into his phone.
"McKinley High School, outside the main building... my name is Artie Abrams... My friend was attacked, he's bleeding from a wound on the head, several wounds, and we think he might have a concussion... yes, he's awake..."
"Kurt, do you know where you are?" Sam asked. He was impressively calm, a steady hand on Kurt's shoulder. Kurt blinked at him. When he tried to talk, however, he coughed, and spat blood.
"Take it easy, help is on the way. Just stay with us," Sam said soothingly. Finn wrung his hands.
"An ambulance will be here soon," Artie announced, holding the phone away from his ear. "Someone has to tell Mr. Schue and Principal Figgins. And Melrose. And Kurt's dad." He listened into the phone again. "Yes, he's still awake."
"Call your mom, Finn," Mike said, standing up. "I'll go get Melrose and Mr. Schue."
"Try to keep it under control, Chang," coach Beiste said. Mike nodded and sprinted away toward the main entrance.
"Blaine's gonna freak out," Sam said under his breath.
"Finn, call your mom, or call Kurt's dad," Artie urged.
"Yeah, yeah," Finn answered absentmindedly, taking his phone out of his pocket. "What do I say? I don't know what to say," he asked, his hand shaking.
"Just tell them that Kurt's been hurt, and that we've already called for help and they'll take them to a hospital, and that they should meet us there," Artie answered.
"Okay..." Finn said, dialing his mom. He'd talk to her and she'd talk to Burt. Finn couldn't possibly explain this to Burt. Not after everything that had happened; not after he promised he had Kurt's back.
"Kurt? Hey, Kurt..." Sam said.
Finn looked over as he waited for his mom to pick up. Sam was prying one of Kurt's eyelids up and looking closely at his eye. "Don't fall asleep on me, man, stay with me," he said calmly. He slapped Kurt's cheek gently.
"Don't hit him! What are you thinking?" Finn shouted.
"Finn, relax, I'm just trying to keep him conscious. Kurt?" Sam rummaged through his backpack and pulled out a tiny flashlight. He forced Kurt's eye open again and shined the light into it, looking closely.
"Maybe we should lay him on his back," Puck suggested nervously. "He looks uncomfortable."
"No. If he has a concussion, he should be on his side. In case he throws up," Sam answered. "His pupils are not dilated. But you need to stay awake, Kurt."
"What are you, a boy scout?" Puck asked.
"We had first aid training at my old school."
There was a click on Finn's phone as the call disconnected. His mother hadn't picked up. "Shit," he muttered under his breath and tried again.
"I think I hear the ambulance," Artie said. "Thank you, ma'am," he added into his phone and shut off the call. "The dispatcher said the ambulance is here. Puck, go let them know where we are."
Obediently, Puck raced toward the parking lot, as the sound of sirens filled the air.
"Where are they? I wanna go home!" Santana complained loudly.
"Maybe we should just go home. They won't want to rehearse anyway. They're probably too tired," Tina suggested.
"Coach Beiste is gonna have them killed," Rachel said, shaking her head.
"Kurt went to get them, they should be here any minute," Will said. "They're tough boys, they'll at least sit through Glee practice, even if they don't contribute much."
"I feel kind of bad for them," Mercedes said.
"I feel ind of hungry," Brittany said.
"You're always hungry," Santana said.
"I'm hungry too," Blaine said.
"Me too," Lauren said.
"Let's go have pizza at my place," Melrose announced.
"Seriously?" Quinn asked.
"Sure. That's not to say I'm buying, but we can have pizza and hang out. I like having you guys over," Melrose replied. She looked at the choir teacher and sighed. "You can come too, Will."
The kids groaned.
"I feel like I have an obligation to be there. Last time you guys went to 'Melrose Place' unsupervised," Will said, making quotation marks with his fingers, "you all got drunk. Again."
"Nothing happened. I'm not that big of a dolt," Melrose complained.
"It was still inappropriate. They're underage," Will retorted.
"I already told you it won't happen again," she said.
"I'm still going. You already invited me, anyway," Will said.
"I already regret it," Melrose rolled her eyes.
"We can practice in Miss Rococo's apartment, seeing as we're gonna have to eventually move the practice elsewhere if the guys don't get here soon," Will continued. "We have no time to waste. We really have to do something to improve our chances of winning, that do not include spying on the competition or trying to sabotage them. I really think, if we can build the performance around-"
Mike Chang burst through the doorway, and Will turned in surprise.
"Ah, finally! Where are the others?" he asked.
Mike walked briskly toward Will and Melrose, and started talking really fast in a very hushed tone. The other kids couldn't hear at all.
"What?" Will said after a moment, looking worried. Melrose's mouth fell open. Without a word or a second thought, she ran out of the choir room, her heavy boots echoing down the empty hallway.
"Coach Beiste is with them?" Will asked. Mike nodded. Will looked at the students, who all stared back puzzled.
"Stay here, kids. I'll come back," Will announced in a very serious tone.
"Something wrong, Mr. Schue?" Blaine asked.
"Blaine, stay!" Will warned, pointing an index finger at Blaine directly, and briskly followed Mike out of the room.
Blaine sat stock still, shocked and confused, and the girls looked at each other worriedly. Something definitively had happened, and it wasn't good. It was bad enough to put Mr. Schue on edge, and make Melrose run off.
"You don't think..." Mercedes started.
Blaine didn't wait for her to finish, and he leapt out of his chair and ran after them. The girls hesitated for a moment, but promptly sprinted after him too.
Mike led them out of the school building; in the gloom of the darkening day, the first thing they noticed were the red and blue lights. There was an ambulance parked on the grass in the area beside the building, around the back of the cafeteria, and a police car next to it. Whatever had happened was more serious than they thought.
They hurried past the dumpsters and toward the entrance to the football field. No one ever went that way unless there was a game. Now the area was somewhat crowded with paramedics, two cops, a few onlookers, and the Glee club guys.
"Shannon," Will said as soon as he saw the female football coach. She waved him over.
"Karofsky says there were two guys who didn't look like they attended McKinley," she said as soon as he was near.
The paramedics were huddled around a person on the ground. Blaine and the girls saw Finn frantically listening to his phone, and Sam standing near one of the paramedics, talking to her hurriedly. Blaine's heart started racing.
"Who is it?" Quinn asked, who seemed rather relieved to see that Sam was okay.
"Mom! Finally!" Finn exclaimed into his phone. "Listen, they're taking Kurt to the hospital. He was attacked, we still don't know what happened. You have to tell Burt. They're taking him to Lima Memorial-"
Blaine suddenly pushed past him, followed by Mercedes and Quinn, and the other girls, before Will could stop them. Sam and Melrose had to stop Blaine from going any further, as the paramedics were busy tending to Kurt.
"Kurt?" Blaine called, trying to see his boyfriend over the sea of heads.
Kurt was on his back now, wearing a neck brace, as a paramedic was putting his right arm in a splinter, and another one talked to him and shone a flashlight into his face.
"Can you tell me where you are? Kurt, do you know where you are?"
"We have to get the swelling on his arm down. Might also have a broken rib."
"Get me two ice packs and a shot of-"
"Kurt!"
"Blaine, calm down. He's going to be fine," Sam said, gripping his friend's arm to hold him back. "They'll take care of him now."
Blaine wondered how Sam could possibly be so calm. He watched as the paramedics talked among themselves, saying things no one else understood, and lifting Kurt onto a gurney, pushing him toward the ambulance. Kurt's eyes were open, but somewhat hazy, staring blankly up at the sky, and he didn't see any of his friends watching him as they wheeled him by. The medic who had been talking to Sam earlier and asking Kurt routine questions, turned to them.
"Who's riding with us?" she asked.
Finn, who was wringing his cellphone between his hands, shot forward at once. "I am."
"I'm sorry, kid, but I meant an adult."
"But I'm his brother!" Finn protested.
"I'll go, Finn. I'll meet you there," Will said quickly, already climbing into the ambulance. "Melrose, would you drive Finn to the hospital so he can meet his parents there?"
Melrose stared in shock as Will sat beside Kurt inside.
The group watched as the medics closed the doors and the ambulance pulled away. The police car remained, with its blue and red lights still spinning. The few kids who had been standing around started to leave.
Melrose was breathing long and hard, as if she were trying to remain calm. She turned to the kids. "Finn, Blaine, come on. I'll take you guys to the hospital. The rest of you, you'll have to find your own means of transportation if you want to come."
"Of course we want to come," Rachel said, seemingly on the verge of tears.
"You have room for one more, don't you?" Mercedes asked. Melrose nodded.
"We can go in my car," Artie said. "It's a minivan, so you'll all fit in."
"Hold on, Melanie," coach Beiste interrupted, putting a hand on Melrose's shoulder. "These officers are here to find out about the incident, and no one should leave until the boys present and the moment are interrogated."
"They can ask their questions at the hospital. These kids are in no state to answer anything right now, they just want to see their friend," Melanie replied, somewhat angrily. She turned to the two officers taking notes. "I'm pretty sure you have to interrogate Kurt too, as to what happened, and you can't do that now."
"The only person they really gotta ask is Karofsky," Puck interjected, sneering at the person to his left.
Blaine looked down. For the first time, he noticed Dave Karofsky sitting there, his back to the wall, knees bent and arms folded over his chest. He looked up a the mention of his name and stood up.
"I already told you, I didn't do anything! I saw who did it," Dave pleaded.
"Calm down, Mr. Karofsky, we're not done with your statement," one of the officers said.
"I saw them! There were two! I didn't do this!" Dave shouted, angrier this time. "I wouldn't do this!"
"Yes, you would! You said it last year! You threatened to kill him!" Finn yelled, shaking with rage.
Dave looked terrified. Santana swallowed hard and watched him sympathetically; Brittany was holding her hands over her mouth. The rest of them just looked shocked, mouths hanging open in horror.
"I didn't mean it... I told him I didn't mean it," Dave said in a very low voice. "I could never do that to anyone."
Finn was still shaking, and Rachel grabbed his arm, if only to try to calm him down. Dave didn't look at him; instead, he watched Blaine and Melrose.
"Blaine... Miss Melanie... you have to believe me," he said to them. He looked like he was fighting back tears.
The others looked at the three of them, and then at each other in confusion. Blaine looked away, unable to respond at the moment. He didn't care, he couldn't care right now. All he wanted right now was to be with Kurt.
Melrose, however, met Dave's pleading eyes, and she gave a shaky sigh.
"I believe you," she finally said. Finn glared at her in outrage and stalked off, toward Melrose's Volvo.
Dave looked somewhat relieved. Melrose approached him to speak to him quietly.
"But what good is that gonna do now?" she added in a whisper.
He stared after her, as she nudged Blaine and Mercedes to follow her, and they caught up with Finn and crossed the near-empty parking lot to Melrose's car. The rest of the Glee club motioned to follow; Puck threw one last dirty look in Dave's direction.
"Come on, Dave, we should go to Principal Figgins," coach Beiste said. "Officers, I believe we ought to have this boy's father present before you ask any further questions, am I right?"
Dave watched the kids drive away hurriedly, and reluctantly followed coach Beiste and the police officers into the building.
He sat through another excruciating hour in Principal Figgins's office, getting asked the same questions more than once, saying the same things over and over.
What did they look like, what were they doing, which way did they leave, what was the state in which you found Mr. Hummel.
All pointless questions now. He answered them all, but the two police officers gave no sign to be about to jump up, leap into their patrol car and head off into a frenetic chase for the perpetrators.
They just sat there, writing down stuff.
"Where were you just before the incident?"
The incident. Dave tried not to snort. He just sighed tiredly.
"I told you, I just finished showering and changing in the lockers after football practice, and I was heading to the parking lot."
"And why did you not go the way that most students go, which is through the inside of the school building?"
"I use that route when practice ends late, but not too late that it's dark. Sometimes I don't feel like going through the whole building. It's much shorter to the parking lot the other way."
"Had you ever seen these boys before, wandering the area?"
"Not that I would remember."
"Have you ever seen them elsewhere? Like at the mall or another public space?"
"I don't know."
"Mr. Karofsky, what is your history with Mr. Hummel?"
Paul Karofsky looked up at his son, and Dave squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, willing himself somewhere far from here, but that was pointless.
"I... he and I have had issues in the past," he said diplomatically.
"Care to elaborate?"
Taking a deep breath, Dave did his best to summarize the version that most people were familiar with, especially the details that his father already knew. He was careful not to be too descriptive about his encounters with Kurt. He put extra emphasis on the Bullywhips part, and on how he was now in rather good terms with Kurt.
"I think we have everything we need. We'll be in touch."
"Thank you, officers," Mr. Karofsky said. He spoke briefly with Principal Figgins and coach Beiste, while the police officers put on their caps and adjusted their coats and walked out the door.
Dave shuffled out of the office slowly, watching the cops walk away.
"Are you okay, son?" Mr. Karofsky asked, appearing next to him.
Dave carefully tried not to convey through his face how much he wanted to break something or scream uncontrollably. Or both. He tried to look relieved, which in part he was. But he was tired and mentally exhausted and worried and scared and in so much pain that he was starting to feel numb.
"Yeah," he said simply, and let his father put one arm around his shoulders and lead him gently out.
It started raining.
Dave sat in the passenger seat of his dad's car, listening to the soft music drifting from the radio. His father didn't allow him to drive, just in case he was too overwhelmed by the afternoon events. So Dave's car would sit on the school parking lot until the next day.
He needed to run. He wished he could have ran all the way from the school, and not stop until he reached his house, breathless and rain-soaked and in pain. He needed to feel something, he needed something to make him feel alive. He just felt too numb and the moment, he almost thought he was drifting away.
"Hey," his father's voice cut through his reverie. They were already home. The car was sitting on the garage, and the garage door was closing slowly behind them.
Wordlessly, he turned to his father and watched his kind face trying to muster a smile.
"You did well. You reacted well. Coach Beiste told me."
Dave nodded automatically.
"It's going to be fine, son," Mr. Karofsky added, patting his son on the shoulder.
Dave nodded again, but he barely registered the words.
He walked through the kitchen door and climbed upstairs, before his mother could ask him any questions. His father let him go, with a gesture to his wife that he would explain everything.
Dave shut the door of his room. He paced for a bit in front of his bed. He started shivering and he could barely breathe. He dashed into the bathroom and locked the door and turned on the hot water in the shower. Without thinking twice, without taking any of his clothes off, he stepped under the hot stream of water and sat down in the tub, and let the heat take over him. And when he felt he could breathe again, he let the tears come.
I wish I knew the names and school of the boys. There's nothing anywhere about it. If anyone knows anything and is willing to collaborate with me, let me know on a review or at my email:
I'm supposed to be done before the hiatus is over. Can't wait for the new season. My life shall have meaning again.
Thanks for reading. I promise next chapter won't be long.
-Valentina
