So, I've been AWOL for a very long time, so I think you all deserve an official explanation. Well, a brief summary; I went to a very, VERY bad private school (think opposite of Dalton), where the faculty, staff, and students all bullied me to the point I had to leave. Sounds bad? Well, I was in a term system, and had to move to semester, which meant... no school for three months. 32 books later, it wasn't nearly as fun as it sounds, especially because it meant lots of online work, and music classes from my parents. So, now that I'm at a public school, and a zillion times happier, I'm going to try and do this story justice, seeing as of all my stories, this one seems to be the most well received. My writing might even be significantly better without all that drama and angst coating on top! Enjoy! Oh, KURT POV, FINN POV, and then KURT AGAIN.
"Kurt, phone for you!" Oh, crap. Last night was great, it was magical, but now, it's daylight, and Finn is still lying in my bed; that was more magic then I ever could have hoped. I hope this is just the first of many nights to happen like this. The worst is, though, that god damn date is coming up, and while I want to choose Finn, it's easier said than done to break-up with your first official boyfriend in order to be with your future stepbrother, which is just so many levels of incestuous that Giorgio Armani should strip me of my rights to wear couture. Then again, if Finn is considered to be 'trashy', then I could live with-
"Kurt! Phone!" Burt's voice rang out like a shot, and I felt nothing but frustrated that he disrupted my thoughts about Finn. Once upon a time, there was me and Finn, on two different sides of the world in the same town, where I could have shoved a microscope in his face, but he never would have seen me. How was it that now, after all of this time, he could be here? After all of the time I spent seeing him as nothing but a hopeless fantasy! I slowly descended the staircase, stiffly and coldly, hoping my dad might get the gist; you know, that I hated his guts right now. Of course, Carole made her famous weekend pancakes, because days of the week had involvement in the quality of pancakes, and my dad's head was nearly engulfed by the plate, syrup stickily webbed across the front of his shirt, and he seemed completely entranced by his breakfast. How typical.
"You beckoned, master?" I tried to make this sound as snide and rude as possible, but I guess Finn really did flip a switch inside of me; neither faces shifted at all, and I was almost certain I didn't sound half as bitchy as usual. This newly developed niceness may turn out to be both a blessing and a curse. I've navigated most of my life by being an ice queen, cold and distant, and this newfound warmth might be a weakness; hopefully just a way to get even closer to Finn.
"Ya, uh, phone?" My dad mumbled through the mess of pancake crumbs swashing around his wide open mouth, and while the old me would have said something, the new one went straight for the phone, and let memories of last night wash over me, filling me with joy. Finn and I. Boyfriends. How sweet is that?
"Hey, Kurt, it's Sam, did I catch you at the wrong time or what?" Sam's voice was sounding hard and edgy, which was something irregular when we first met, and I found it a bit disconcerting how often it made reappearances. But this time, it didn't sound like real anger, but a flimsy shield. Probably jealousy, thinking I was with Finn when he called.
"No, not at all, shoot, I'm all ears." When did we become so business-like? Shoot? I need to get out of this relationship, and fast. Where is the love? Sure, there was chemistry once, but anything left between us is awkward heat and burning shame for liking anybody other than Finn.
"OK, um, wow, you're going to be the first person I'll-" Tears. Oh no. The first sign that I should hang up as soon as humanly possible. I could change my name. Move to Canada and legally marry Finn, breed Golden Retrievers on a small ranch, and I could start a line of home-perm products for the everyday woman from the comfort of my home and convenience of the internet. Stage an operation where an FBI agent tell Sam that 'Kurt Hummel' was an alias, created by a forty year old sex offender who'd undergone plastic surgery to look under eighteen, and "legally" get some action. The longer I talk to him, the more I feel like this just needs to end. I mean, the karaoke club was nice, but chemistry can sizzle away, and now, I feel like I've never been so not attracted to somebody in my entire life. I think he's hit the two minute mark of sputtering, I'm just waiting for the break-up/moving announcement... "Sorry, I'm just upset with-"
"Go on?"
"Uh, Christina, she- she's-" Don't say it. "She's passed on, Kurt. Oh, damn it!" Passed on?
"I'm sorry, you mean, she died. How? Uh, if you don't mind me asking..."
"It was unexpected, uh, they're going to do an autopsy." Great. Unexpected death in the family, now how the hell can I break up with him? "It's- uh, I didn't call to tell you that- well, sort of- uh, it's because- I wanted- can you come to the funeral, her funeral, with me? Please?" Benjamin Franklin, damn you to hell. The voice coming out of this speaker is almost inhuman, a torture device, telling me everything I don't want to hear. I met his family, they think I am in love with him! There is literal no nice way to tell him I don't love him, so-
"When is it?"
"OK, you guys, this is the tough part. For the past few weeks, we've been working through all sorts of vocal selections, trying to pick out what worked for some solo performances, and also big ensemble numbers, and what you thought you and an audience of people your own age could relate to. But, now, we have to decide exactly what our setlist is going to be." I can't believe Kurt isn't here. Of everybody, he was probably the most excited to go on this trip! Come to think of it, Sam isn't here either... which could be a window!
"Mr. Schue!"
"Yes, Finn?"
"Do you know where Sam is? I mean, if he truly is interested in going on this trip, then wouldn't he be here?" I could feel Tina's cold stare on my neck. What? Fine, I didn't like the guy, but that wasn't all it was about. Actually, never mind. It was. Come on, last night was fire, Kurt and I... I don't know anything about chemistry, but that had to be love! So, why is Kurt wasting his time with Sam still, and not just announcing his decision? I'm kind of dying of suspense here!
"Actually, I do, and this is our other order of business for being here on a Sunday-"
"The morning where I usually wake up next to a stranger, not to rush to a Glee rehearsal." Mr. Schue gave Santana a double take, but she just went back to doing her nails. I have to ask Kurt to explain what exactly that is, cause all I see is a scratchy stick, and I'm not sure what the hell that has to do with clean-ness.
"His sister died unexpectedly last night." I'm horrible. Tina took in a huge breath, even Santana looked shocked and upset. But me, I felt nothing but guilt. I am shit. Here I am, plotting how I'm going to take this guy's boyfriend, and his sister just died! And, let me guess, Kurt's probably trying to make him feel better... damn it. I have to end things, have to. At least for now. Imagine how bad this is going to look, the poor guy's sister kicks the bucket, and suddenly we're a thing? And Kurt strikes me as the type to like moody, mourning guys; how am I going to beat that? Wait, that came out wrong.
"Can he still go on the trip?" Tina looked genuinely worried, and I remembered their friendship/momentary kiss/bond of silence. I silenced my thoughts, cause they were practically screaming out of my skull. And it's pretty thick, my mom makes sure to remind me of that regularly.
"I'm sorry guys. I guess we'll just have to go with the back-up, which would be-"
"If you tell me Berry, Schuester, I will cut your gonads off and wear them as earrings." Santana was pointing that nail thingy at Mr. Schue like a weapon, and even I had to agree. Sure, she helped with last night, but she was all kinds of weird. I know this sounds kinda big headed of me, but I think she might still have feelings for me.
"Santana, that's not fair, she's a good singer, a natural leader, she has a lot to offer to the group." Great, if I don't say anything, this could be the most awkward school trip of my life.
"Uh, actually Mr. Schue, I don't want to hurt Rachel's feelings, or your... student picking abilities? Anyway, I don't think she should go either."
"Me either." Wow. Just like that, and it's clear even Tina thinks Rachel is a total bitch. Which makes me wonder why I ever dated her in the first place? She's also missing some parts that Kurt has that I- well, that's private, but she doesn't have them.
"All of you? Fine. Fine, OK. You've all put in a lot of work into your songs, so- you get to pick. Who do you think we should add to the group?" Everybody's eyes got way bigger with excitement. All that power, in my grubby hands... what is grubby, anyway? Isn't it like a fish, or something? And why does Finn call them that, I don't know about you, but I don't think my hands look like fins. Oh my god, Finn's fins! I'm going to go write that down, wait, never mind, voting. Right. Voting. "So, the names are up on the board, as I call out each one, we'll add a point-"
"Why not just 'x' them off?"
"Santana, that's not exactly nice, how would you feel if you were being essentially eliminated from something?"
"First, glad, that people were so jealous. Second, there are only three of us here, as Sam's probably giving Kurt some sweet loving right about now, in between sobs about his dead sister and their screaming orgasms. Three isn't enough to vote, but it is to eliminate, so how about we all pick a person, and they go, and keep doing so till we're left with one?"
"Anybody disagree with Santana?" Silence. "Well, while I disagree with your profanity, I don't disagree with your idea, so if that's how you want to do it, so be it."
"Great." Santana strutted up to the front of the room, and I could have sworn she was shaking her ass in my direction. Oh yeah, people still thought I was straight. Well, she definitely didn't look as good as Kurt, believe me. "So, I'll be the first to say Berry's toast, and I'll even use my turn on that. Tina?" Tina? She called her by her first name? Not some derogatory comment, like 'Goth', or 'Asian'? Wow. Looks like this trip might actually bring some of us closer.
"I say Artie. This will probably sound horrible, but the last thing we need in a totally new city, trying to make impressions is to have somebody... impaired." Her voice got really quiet. Probably cause what she said sounded a bit rude. Whatever, everybody knew it was just because of what went on between the two. "Finn?"
"Uh... I'm going to go with Mike. Sure he's a great dancer and all, but the emphasis of the conference is going to be vocals. Plus, won't his awesome dance moves make us look kinda... bad?" Mr. Schue nodded his head encouragingly, and Santana groaned, which usually means I said something dumb. You know, only a genius can be sure not to be dumb all of the time, maybe I'm just so smart that I left my mind take breaks?
"I'm saying bye-bye to Puck. The last thing we need is getting kicked out for underage drinking, or date rape, two things I know I'm smart enough to not get caught doing. Unlike that mohawked freak." Silence. Maybe Santana hadn't had her morning coffee. Or maybe it was 'that time of month'? Kurt still has to explain exactly what that is exactly... Kurt...
"Hello? Finn? Your turn?"
"Huh?" I could feel drool on my shirt.
"Ugh, Finn, I just said that it's a no for Brittany. She's totally going to get lost in the city, and with the amount of songs on the setlist for our trip, I don't think she can remember the words to- are you even listening to me?" Tina looks pissed. Whatever, Santana + Kurt = Kurt in a Cheerio's uniform, and that was way too distracting.
"Yeah, and I agree. Uh, Matt? He's kind of useless to be honest." Mr. Schue just shrugged, and everybody else nodded. Wait, what? I wouldn't be shocked if those transfer rumors are true, who'd want to stay in a school where you're so imposable? Resposible? Whatever, you can throw him away.
"So, that leaves us with Mercedes and Quinn." Pause. "Mr. Schuester, is there any reason why we can't just take both?"
"Uh, well, the school only has the budget for seven people to go, and that includes travel insurance and things like that-"
"Wait, seven, hold up, are we counting Tinky Winky's freakishly long arms as another human being now, or what?"
"No. Didn't you guys read the pamphlets I gave you?" Silence. "What about all of the forms you signed?" Silence. "OK. Well, we need another adult to supervise the trip, otherwise, we can't legally go."
"Here's an idea; lie." Santana sounded way too excited about this trip. Her plotting had already begun.
"No way. The second Sue catches on to us, we're toast." Tina too. Gosh, I wish Kurt were here, he'd know what to say.
"Well, can't you guys just pick between Mercedes and Quinn?" More silence. "Fine. Look, I have a plan, but we can't tell anybody, got it?" Everybody was on their feet, clapping, nodding their heads. "Alright, alright, that's enough. So, let's see some of those numbers, guys!"
When I knocked on the door, I felt like I had just ingested a thousand weights, and my arms had been injected with led. The last time I saw this door, I was off to a romantic date in the park, with the boyfriend I loved. Now, it feels like he's the one who's dead. How is this the same Sam I started out with? Or maybe it's me that's changed, I'm looking for something else now. Or I'm just so different that I opened my eyes and saw what I couldn't see before. This is so wrong. I have to end it. I mean, how can I stand in front of this family, performing as his boyfriend, considering how distant we've been. Sure, we did 'it', but we've hardly talked since, and apart from that short while that involved... not talking, we've had zero personal time together. It's so over, it has to be.
"Kurt, I'm so glad you could make it, Sam's right inside." Aunt Clara was gorgeous, as usual, but her mascara was running in all kinds of directions, and, like a true drama queen, her hair was noticeably a shade darker. I guess that's what happens when your niece unexpectedly starts pushing up daisies. I tried to give an apologetic smile and a nod, but really, it probably just looked pained. I doubt she noticed, though. Is that a damn organ I hear in there? As I make my way for the door, she stops me with a huge hug, her elbows locking right in place to successfully stop my breathing. "I just wanted to say that, you know, Sam hasn't had a lot of people here for him, and you've been so good, and you will always be part of this family in my eyes. Always." Oh, fuck.
"Oh, thank you!"
"No, I mean it, I can tell your relationship is made up of trust, compassion, understanding. Christina said somethings before, and I saw how you shot up and spoke totally honestly... Christina would have wanted Sam to be with somebody like that..." Tears. I couldn't see her face from my place perched on her neck, but the heaving was enough. "Woah, OK, too much, too much, I'm sorry. Uh, Sam's inside? OK, once again, sorry, I'm just... emotional. You know?" No.
"Totally, I understand."
"Alright. Alright, on inside." Holy crap. The funeral was supposed to be tomorrow, but the house was made up like they were celebrating an event planned months in advance. There was a huge, framed portrait of the girl standing in the foyer, her favourite flowers in a vase, hors freaking d'oeuvres. Never have I ever seen taste so distasteful. That better not be an R.I.P cake by the kitchen counter.
"Hey, Kurt, I'm so glad you're here." I guess it was just me, because the hug Sam gave me just then felt like he thought this relationship was 100% happening, as oppose to a total sham. I know I have to end it, but come on, his aunt just told me I'm part of their family, talk about a knife in the back. I should at least wait until a month or two after the funeral. "Here, let's go upstairs and talk." He began to rush me up the stairs, his hand in mine, and I felt only the smallest bit of a flutter. I immediately crushed it with the truth.
"Sam, uh, I was wondering, have you felt things between get a little... cold?" We were standing in front of his door, and he gave me a toothy grin.
"Well, they're about to get hotter." He swung the door open, and there were candles and roses spread around the room, like vultures, wanting to feed off of my vicious, vicious lies. My deceit. My falsehoods. Cue verbal diarrhea.
"Sam, I'm not sure if this is going to work out, in the long term. No, scratch that, at all. I know Christina died, but I can't keep you wishing on something that's not real. We're not real, I don't want this, and even if I can keep on pretending for now, I can't move any further than we already have. I'm sorry." His face is totally unreadable. Like he chose not to even care. Even though what I said would be enough to crush most people into tiny bits, he looks totally unfazed. Definitely looks like he is still in the denial phase of grief.
"Kurt, you said both Finn and I would have a chance. And, if you value what we ever had between us, isn't the least you can do give me one last shot to prove this to you? That we deserve to last?" Silence. Well... I did it once. Would it be so horrible to do it again? No! I can't, this is moronic, I'm turning into a common street whore. I tried to hide the shift in my face, but the second Sam saw it, he ripped his shirt off, hit play on his CD player, and threw himself (literally) at me. With the loud drums of the record playing as he greedily sucked at my neck, I felt like watching a 300 pound grandmother getting a bikini wax couldn't be less attractive than this. He started to feel me up, and believe me, nothing else was up. But the way he was pawing at me, I mean, I'll let him kiss and what not, but that's it. Too hot, and I'm out. Maybe I'll lie and say I'm a lady, and I refuse to put out so frequently. Don't laugh!
"Sex rules!
Use your god given tools,
Sex rules!
I pity the fools
That realize too late love, sex, and God are great"
Well, he clearly wasn't interested in foreplay. He began to undo his belt. I don't want this. At all. Sorry, Sam. But I'm about to do something horrible. I slapped him in the face. As hard as I could possibly, my hand collided with his cheek, a loud smack and red streak being the proof. I grabbed a clump of his hair, and pulled his ear close to my ear, bossily.
"Not now. Tonight. Let's save it till later. Until then..." I walked out, trying to seem sultry, and he totally bought it. Too bad I have no intention on giving him anything but a Dear John letter later. So... anybody know how to get a Retriever breeding license in Canada?
So, in my opinion, this is one of my better chapters. If not my best. I'm not bragging, I just mean that, looking back, my writing has gotten a LOT better from before, where it was actually pretty mediocre... whatever. It's good now, right? I'll only know if you review or alert! I hope you enjoy this new instalment, because I had no clue where to take the story from the last chapter, and thank god inspiration struck, because it would have been archived permanently otherwise. To be clear, Kurt and Sam... so not happening. The focus isn't the choice, but repercussions. Will being slutty/insensitive effect his reputation at McKinley? What about Finn's? So, the song in today's episode was Sex Rules by Sky Ferreira, and pick up her EP on iTunes, it is epic, or at least listen to 99 Tears, as it's incredible; I might even use it... anyways, there will be a new instalment within the next week, so keep an eye out. Enjoy, and remember, feedback! Feedback! I love it, I'm too greedy to live without it.