Chapter Thirty-Five: I Thought You'd Dropped Off the Face of the Planet

Kurt's family lives in a nice house on the outskirts of Lima, but I'm relieved that none of his family have waited up for us. We pull into the drive at two o'clock in the morning. Kurt and I let ourselves into the house, and he and I go up to his room.

The room displays obvious signs of disuse, giving it the feel of a reluctant storage room trying to hold onto its bedroom roots, but there's a queen-sized bed with fresh sheets and blankets, which is all Kurt and I need right now.

"You're sure it's alright for me to stay in your bedroom?" I whisper, as Kurt and I finally change out of the clothes we've been wearing since we left Avonroy.

Shrugging, Kurt says, "I'm too tired to care. If Carole set up something else for you, she'll tell you in the morning. Let's just get some sleep."

So we both crawl into bed, and I'm asleep before my brain even registers being under the same blankets as Kurt.

When I wake up in the morning, Kurt's arm is lying across my chest, and as soon as I realize where I am, my heart starts pounding. I get out of bed carefully and venture into the bathroom next door to take a shower.

It's not until I'm shampooing my hair that I wonder if it's rude to use someone else's shower without asking. But it's too late now.

When I get back to Kurt's room, he's just starting to stir, and I can hear someone downstairs in the kitchen, probably getting breakfast.

"What time is it?" Kurt asks groggily.

I tell him, "Almost nine."

He sits up and rubs his eyes. "I should take a shower. Do you want a shower?"

"I already took one."

So Kurt goes to shower, and I take my time choosing my clothes and styling my hair so that I don't have to venture out into the rest of the house until Kurt's ready.

Finally, Kurt and I make our way downstairs, where a group of people are laughing and talking over coffee and waffles.

"Kurt!" A balding man greets his son with a big hug. "Welcome home." He turns to me while the other three people in the room hug Kurt. "And you must be Blaine?"

I nod, reciprocating his firm handshake. "Hi. Thanks for having me."

"Glad to have you. I'm Burt," says Burt, as his wife approaches.

She gives me a hug and says, "I'm Carole. Welcome to Ohio. Where are you from, Blaine?"

"He's from Westerville," says a voice that seems to come right out of five years ago.

I look over and see Rachel Berry standing beside me, her long brown hair curling around her face and her beam radiant as she grins up at me.

I can't help but grin right back, and she says, "Blaine Anderson. I'd recognise that face anywhere. Wow."

I hug her, and say, "Wow, Rachel. You look great. Kurt says you married Finn. Congrats."

Her husband, a tall, burly guy who I remember sitting in the front row at the community theatre productions Rachel and I used to do years ago, says, "Wait, so you're that kid from that accapella choir, right? The uh…"

"The Warblers," Kurt says, nodding. "Small world, right?"

Rachel asks, "You and Kurt are roommates?"

We nod.

Burt says, "Yeah, I remember you guys. The private school, with the uniforms, right?"

"Yeah," says Carole, "They won Nationals the year after the New Directions did."

I nod my confirmation. Burt says, "Well, it's good to have you, Blaine. Make yourself at home. Coffee?"

Kurt and I start eating breakfast, and Burt asks, "So how was the drive? Kurt didn't make you listen to show tunes the whole time, did he?"

I laugh, and say, "Not the whole time. But it was good. Who doesn't love a road trip?"

"I don't," says Rachel, "I think Kurt's crazy to keep making that drive. What is it, like forty hours?"

Kurt says, "We did it in thirty-eight this time."

Carole says, "Well, we're all glad that you made it. Merry Christmas."

It's Christmas Eve. When I was a kid, this would have meant spending all day at various churches and seniors homes with my parents, helping my parents spread the lessons of Christ by playing songs about Mary and Jesus and the angels and the shepherds.

Elderly women could never congratulate my parents enough for the gift God gave them when they were blessed with a son with a gift like mine for expressing Christian values through song.

And then late at night, after candlelit services at both my parents' churches, we'd get on a plane and fly to California to cherish the blessing of family and pat ourselves on the shoulders for being honest, charitable people.

I often have a very difficult time associating that life with the life I'm living now.

The Hudson-Hummel's version of Christmas is a lot more secular and lot less annoying than my parents' ever was. Carole and Burt go out to do some shopping for tomorrow, leaving Kurt, Finn, Rachel, and I to decorate the Christmas tree.

"So how're you holding up, Kurt?" asks Rachel, giving him another hug while Finn and I try to untangle the lights for the tree.

It takes me a couple of seconds to figure out what she's referring to. But then Kurt says, "I'm not going to wallow in it," and I remember Jeremy.

Rachel says, "I'm sorry, sweetie. I thought you and Jeremy were perfect for each other. What happened?"

Kurt and I exchange glances, and I think that Finn notices. Kurt says, "We just grew apart, Rachel. People change. To be honest, we probably held on a lot longer than we should have."

Finn and Rachel move closer together, as if reassuring themselves about the validity of their long-term relationship. Finn says, "Honestly, I never cared for the guy. You'll be fine without him, Kurt."

I nod, but don't feel comfortable making any comment.

"Just let me know if you need some ice cream or a shoulder to cry on," says Rachel, "I know how rough break-ups can be."

Kurt says, "Thanks, but I'm really okay. Blaine was there for the worst of it. I think I really just need to do what I should have done six months ago and move on with my life. He's gone. I can't dwell on it."

Nodding, Rachel says, "Just because he's gone doesn't mean you don't still care about him, Kurt."

"I know. But if either of us had any doubt that breaking up was the right thing to do, we'd be fighting to stay together. Neither of us take what we had lightly enough to call it quits unless we knew it was the right thing to do."

I say, "Kurt's strong. He knows what he needs. He'll get through it."

Rachel looks at me in surprise, as if just remembering that I'm present. Finn and I have finally managed to wrap the lights around the tree while Kurt and Rachel have been talking.

"He's okay? Really? You promise?"

I nod, looking to Kurt, who looks amused by Rachel's concern. Finn is rolling his eyes. "That's why I'm here. To make sure the drive didn't overwhelm him with loneliness."

Grinning, Kurt nods. "And he did a good job."

"Uh…" Finn raises an eyebrow. "Just to be clear… you two aren't… doing it or anything, right?" He turns to me quickly, and adds, "Not that I'm saying you're gay. I don't know if you're gay. I mean-"

I laugh, shaking my head to save him from having to correct himself. I say, "I am gay. But Kurt and I are just friends."

Nodding, Kurt says, "We're roommates. And you guys, you put up those lights all wrong."

As Kurt starts re-stringing the Christmas lights and directing the hanging of ornaments, Rachel turns to me. "So. Blaine Anderson. Unbelievable. I thought you'd dropped off the face of the planet."

I shrug. Rachel was studying at NYADA while I was at NYU. The theatre world isn't that big, not even in New York. We ran into each other at shows and auditions and parties from time to time.

"I hear you're doing Wicked. That's unbelievable. Congrats."

She hits me. "Don't change the subject, Warbler boy. What happened to you? I was at the opening night of The World Again at the Minskoff two years ago. You disappeared at the end of the first act. And nobody ever heard from you again. People in your class at NYU thought you might be dead."

My heart seems to stop beating. Kurt has overheard Rachel, and now he's looking at me curiously. Finn is listening too.

I wait until my heart starts beating again, and I say, "Shit happens. Surprise. I'm still alive."

Rachel says, "Blaine, you walked out of your Broadway debut. Who does that? Your reviews from the previews were outstanding."

Kurt says, "Rachel, he obviously doesn't want to talk about it. Drop it."

She looks a little affronted, but she doesn't press me.

But all three of them watch me closely as we hang more ornaments on the tree according to Kurt's directions.

"I'm sorry," Rachel says after Finn places the angel at the top of the tree, "But this isn't fair. I can't just stand in this room with Blaine and not know the truth. Do you know how often I wonder about you? We were friends once, weren't we?"

"Were you?" asks Kurt in surprise.

She says impatiently, "Community theatre, Kurt."

Finn puts his hand on Rachel's shoulder and says, "Rachel, Blaine obviously doesn't want to talk about it. Don't be rude."

But I know that none of them will stop wondering until I say something, especially not Kurt. He's staring at me with a newborn curiosity. My skin is tingling.

I ask Rachel, "You were really there that night?"

Nodding, Rachel says, "Are you kidding? I was way too jealous to miss it. And then you just disappeared. No explanation. Your understudy wasn't nearly as good. Whatever happened to "the show must go on"?"

I say, "I guess sometimes you just realize how little the show actually matters. Priorities change, Rachel. I had some bad news, and I left to deal with it."

Rachel looks appalled by the very thought, but she doesn't stop staring at me, waiting for me to give an explanation. My eyes are watering.

She says, "I get it if something happened so you couldn't finish that show. But to leave Broadway completely? How could you do that?"

Shrugging, I say, "My dreams were supposed to come true that night, Rachel, and instead my world came crashing down. And no matter how hard I try, I can't rebuild my life to fit with my old dreams. I'm studying writing at Avonroy now."

I rub the skin on my hands, which is burning with the anxiety of this conversation.

Rachel says, "What could possibly have happened to change your mind about an ambition you'd had since you were a toddler?"

I say, "Broadway wasn't my dream since I was a toddler, Rachel. I'm not you. There are plenty of people out there who change direction in life."

Kurt nods. "I'm proof of that."

Finn adds, "I still don't know if I have direction."

She pouts. "I just want to understand what happened. So that I can make sure it doesn't happen to me. I don't want to burn out."

I say, "Rachel, my Broadway dreams were built on denial and low self-esteem. I had a talent, and people just kept giving me more opportunities to use it. I didn't have to work for it the way you do. I just got to enjoy the applause and ignore the real problems in my life. Until the problems caught up with me, and I realized how little any of it mattered. But you're not like that. Theatre means more to you than getting to play make believe. You're not gunna burn out."

She smiles, but it's a weird, sad smile. "I guess I never really thought about why this is my dream," she says quietly.

I look down at my hands, feeling embarrassed.

Which when life presents me with the perfect opportunity to escape this conversation before I have to actually answer Rachel's question.

"Shit," I say, "Uh... Look at this." I hold out my arm to display the angry red rash that is springing up on my fingers and the backs of my hands and all of the way up my wrists.

Rachel grimaces, jumps back, and says, "What the fuck?"

Kurt and Finn both examine my skin, and I say, "I'm probably allergic to the tree. Don't freak out. I'll just go wash."

"I'll come with you," Kurt says quickly, and we both go to the down the hall."

I start scrubbing my skin with soap and water, and Kurt asks, "Does it itch?"

I say, "It burns more than anything. Don't worry, I've had reactions like this before. It's not a big deal. I have prescription allergy meds in my bag. It'll clear up in a few hours. "

He looks a little relieved. "You're sure?"

Nodding, I say, "I only pointed it out because I wanted out of that conversation."

Kurt gives me a hug. "I know," he says, "Rachel can be tactless." He kisses me, and whispers, "Still. I never knew. The World Again, huh? I'm sorry."

I shrug, tingling where his lips touched mine. "I've moved on."

"That was the night your mom died, huh?"

I nod. "Do you think I'm crazy for leaving Broadway?"

He hugs me again. "Rachel might not be able to understand, but I think I do."

I say, "Don't try to understand it. I don't think I understand it myself."

"Well, you're good at saying things that make it seem like you've got it all figured out."

I laugh, rinsing the soap off of my hands. We go upstairs so that I can find my allergy meds.

After I swallow the pill, Kurt asks, "You don't want everyone to know about your mom, then? Because you know they're all going to be wondering why you're not with your own family."

I grimace. "It's just… you know. It just makes everyone uncomfortable. I don't care if they know, I just don't want to have that conversation."

He nods, and asks, "So I can tell them if they ask? Because I'm pretty sure they will."

I say, "Just don't make it sound like I'm broken or something. I don't need anyone feeling sorry for me."

"Yeah," Kurt says, "I can do it. And if they ask you personally, just say that you don't have family, and I'll change the subject quickly. They'll get the hint."

Kurt is awesome. I give him a hug.

"I think I hear Dad and Carole," Kurt says, "You ready to go back downstairs?"

I nod. "Thanks for understanding, Kurt."

He kisses me again, but pulls away quickly. "Fuck. Sorry. I need to stop kissing you."

I shrug. "It's not like I'm trying too hard to stop you."

He shakes his head. "We agreed we'd wait until after Christmas. It's not fair to you if I change my mind now. That just makes things confusing. We have to understand each others' expectations."

See how awesome he is?

"Besides," Kurt adds, "My family is going to know in an instant if anything happens between us. They can read me like a book. I don't need that right now. Neither do you. So let's go downstairs."

I follow him downstairs, hoping that it's not written all over my face how much affection I have towards Kurt right at this moment.