Quick formatting note, in order to indicate that Blaine is using the "easy stuttering" technique introduced in the previous chapter, the disfluencies will be put in italics.

Chapter 21: Call

On Saturday, Blaine woke up early to make the two hour drive to see Nick. He felt guilty about how few times they had hung out this had been distracted with adjusting to his school and then there was the excitement of a new romance. They had texted and emailed, of course, but seeing Nick in person at Burt and Carole's wedding had really driven home that Nick needed a friend right now.

So here he was, driving on the mostly empty highway at 8am, hoping to cheer up his forlorn pal. Kurt had insisted on lending Blaine his iPod full of carefully curated, themed playlists, telling him that there were five different road trip mixes to choose from. Blaine had laughed, reminding Kurt that he could handle a two hour trip without being fussed over, but he had accepted the iPod. He selected a playlist called 'Road Trip-Upbeat,' figuring it could only help keep him awake.

When Blaine pulled up to Nick's school, he was immediately intimidated by the neo-Gothic stone architecture, replete with gargoyles on the gables. Nick was waiting for him on the front steps. He ran to greet Blaine once he spotted his car.

They hugged and Nick showed the way to his dorm.

"Wow! This p-place is amazing!" Blaine couldn't help but notice.

Nick just shrugged. "Yeah, I guess."

The building was stunning, with beautiful Victorian wooden furniture and crystal chandeliers. He thought about Nick's room at his house, with band posters on the walls and soccer cleats haphazardly thrown on the floor. Not really Nick's vibe, though, is it? Compared to Blaine's family, Nick's parents were pretty well-off but you'd never be able to tell by the way that Nick dressed or acted. He wore his sneakers until the soles fell off and he had a propensity for wearing t-shirts that he had acquired as a free giveaway. Nick in a blazer and slacks looked…wrong.

Nick's room was on the fourth floor and Blaine was slightly out of breath by the time they made it up. Nick knocked on the door and a voice called out, "Enter."

A boy their age with sandy blonde hair and aristocratic features held out his hand for Blaine to shake. "Pleasure to meet you, sir. The name is Yates."

Did a teenager just call me sir?

"I'm, uh, uh —Blaine."

"Yates is my roommate, obviously." Nick explained. "Yates, this is my good friend from back home, Blaine. He's, like, the best singer you've ever heard."

"Fascinating. Do you have a record?" he asked.

"No, I j-just perform in, uh, uh Glee Club."

"How pedestrian," he said with a sigh.

When Kurt says things are 'pedestrian' it's witty and sharp; when this guy does it he just sounds like a dick.

"Well, Nicholas, I'm off to meet some of the gents to study for midterms in the commons. Charming to meet you, Blaine." No one calls him Nicholas. Not even his parents.

Yates picked up a briefcase and left.

"How do you st-st-stand that guy?" Blaine asked in disbelief.

"I don't know! He's awful, right? I mean who even names their kid Yates. It has to be the preppiest name in existence. But everyone here loves him. They all told me I was so lucky to have him as my roommate when I started. Do you understand now what I'm dealing with?" Nick threw himself back onto his bed, letting out a dramatic sigh of despair.

"I c-c-can see why you haven't come out to that guy, yikes! Do you th-think there's anyone here who would be o-o-okay with it?"

Nick frowned thoughtfully. "It's hard to tell because everyone is so formal. There's a few guys I think might not care but it's kind of hard to figure it out without coming out, you know?"

"Hmmm, mmmmaybe I should have brought K-Kurt and just gone all PDA while you m-m-monitored their reactions?"

"I know you're joking but that idea is not half bad. Maybe next time!"

"Is there anything you do like about this p-place?" Blaine asked, trying to get Nick thinking about the positives.

"The food is pretty good. I've been thinking about trying out for the school play. The drama program here is supposed to be really good and I've always wanted to try acting."

"You sh-should do it!" Blaine encouraged.

"Oh! You know what else they have? A karaoke machine! It's in one of the common rooms in the dorm."

"Now you're talking!" Blaine said excitedly.

—

One benefit to dorm life—Blaine quickly discovered—was that there were always a lot of people around who were looking for something to do. Even though Nick claimed he didn't have any friends, he managed to gather up ten or so guys without much effort.

"C-Can I g-go first?" asked Blaine. He had the perfect song in mind that would send the right message to Nick.

"Yeah, man! It's been too long since I've heard to dulcet tones of Blaine the Warbler. Cue it up!"

Blaine fiddled with the machine for a few minutes, excited that they had the song he wanted to sing.

He felt strangely empowered as he stood before the room of blue-bloods who would thoroughly disapprove of him if they knew anything about him. They had no power over him here, though. This wasn't his school and before the sun set tonight he would be driving home back into the arms of his loving boyfriend.

Whether I'm right or whether I'm wrong
Whether I find a place in this world or never belong
I gotta be me, I've gotta be me
What else can I be but what I am

I want to live, not merely survive
And I won't give up this dream
Of life that keeps me alive
I gotta be me, I gotta be me
The dream that I see makes me what I am

That far away prize, a world of success
Is waiting for me if I heed the call
I won't settle down, won't settle for less
As long as there's a chance that I can have it all

I'll go it alone, that's how it must be
I can't be right for somebody else
If I'm not right for me
I gotta be free, I've gotta be free
Daring to try, to do it or die
I've gotta be me

There was polite applause in the common room, besides Nick who was cheering loudly. About halfway through Blaine's performance, Nick's horrible roommate had wandered in. When Blaine handed over the microphone to the next boy, Yates clapped Blaine awkwardly on the back.

"Nick wasn't kidding about you, young man. That's quite a set of pipes. I bet you charm all the ladies back home."

Blaine gave Nick a searching look, not wanting to lie but also not wanting to say anything that would make Nick's life any more difficult. Nick sort of shrugged which Blaine interpreted as 'go for it.'

"Well, I did… romance my boyfriend… by singing to him and that… worked out re-remarkably well." Blaine crossed his arms in self-satisfaction. He was rather enjoying watching the gears turning in Yates' Ivy-league bound brain.

"Boyfriend? But that would mean that you're…" he didn't finish the sentence like it contained profanity.

"Gay? Yeah." Blaine said stubbornly.

"How grim," said Yates.

So that's how the preppy kids do homophobia.

After all of the horrible names he had been called, Blaine couldn't help but laugh. "Grim? Is that really the worst you can do?"

Yates seemed confused by Blaine's reaction. The more Blaine laughed, the more unsettled Yates looks.

"That would be undignified," he finally replied.

Blaine scoffed loudly. "Yes, your bigotry re-re-really shows that you're a… cut above the rest."

Nick looked less amused. "Dude, Blaine hasn't done anything other than be perfectly polite to you. You can't treat my friend like that." Nick crossed his arms over his chest.

They were starting to draw attention from some of the other boys in the common room now, despite having not raised their voices. They could sense the tension in the air like sharks smell chum in the water.

"Well, Nicholas, just don't let your vile friend touch any of my things."

Does he think I have gay cooties? Blaine had an inexplicable desire to sneak back to Nick's dorm room and lick Yates' pillowcase just to spite him.

"I think your —backwards a-a-attitude is v-v-v-vile," Blaine snapped back. He was usually terrible at backtalk because it was all about timing but this wasn't half bad.

Yates gasped, as did several of their audience members. So much for not stirring up trouble.

Someone stepped forward. He was tall with broad shoulders. "Come now Yates, my man, didn't your mother teach you to be a gentleman? Are you going to tell me I should go back to Africa next?"

"No, David, of course not. I'm not uncivilized."

"Hmm, it's getting awfully hard to tell," he said haughtily.

"I think I'll be on my way, then," declared Yates.

The tall boy stepped forward and reached out his hand, "I'm David. Sorry about my friend there, well he's not really my friend, he's a bit of an ass if I'm honest. Our mothers play bridge together but, well family allegiance only goes so far. I'm mortified he would treat a guest of this fine institution so disrespectfully. We're not all as close-minded as that excuse for a human being."

Blaine shook it, eager to express his gratitude. Nick looked rather awestruck as he shook David's hand next.

"This is Blaine. I'm Nick, and that unfortunately was my roommate."

"That really is quite unfortunate, Nick. You know, I've had a room to myself since my former roommate didn't return for second semester rather unexpectedly. Perhaps you could use a change of scenery?" David's eye glinted as he smiled widely at them.

"I…dude…that would be amazing! Do you really not care that Blaine's gay? Like at all?"

"It really doesn't seem like any of my business."

Nick lowered his voice to a whisper. "What about me? What if I were gay?"

"Then I would finally have the perfect excuse not to invite that foul Yates chap over for tea, wouldn't I? That sounds like a delightful added bonus, wouldn't you say?"

"Oh shit, man, you really want to be my roommate? I can be kind of messy but I swear I'll keep it on my side of the room and…oh, god, please don't change your mind."

"I think you and I will get along just fine," he said with a friendly wink.

—

Blaine sang along to Kurt's playlist the whole way home, feeling uplifted. He felt better knowing that Nick had at least one ally in his gilded cage. And knowing that he had helped forge the alliance assuaged his guilt about not being there for Nick as much as he should have.

On Sunday, Blaine went over to Kurt's house for brunch. Sometimes Blaine's parents would cook up eggs and bacon or waffles on the weekends, but Kurt elevated brunch to something entirely beyond. There were little dishes of berries to garnish his pancakes, not to mention the special syrup that Kurt had apparently had shipped in from Michigan.

"Oh, that's heavenly!" groaned Blaine as he bit into the fluffy pancake.

Kurt preened under his praise so Blaine continued. "If I hadn't already, these —pancakes would have made be f-fall in love with you," Blaine declared.

"Love?"

When did Burt walk in? Blaine looked up and sure enough, there was Kurt's dad standing at the door to the kitchen, arms folded across his chest, with a glint of amusement in his eye.

"Wh—I—um…" Blaine was too embarrassed to put together anything coherent.

Burt just nodded and smiled at Blaine. "Good," was all he said. Then he walked past a gobsmacked Blaine and began to fill a plate with pancakes. Blaine looked over at Kurt, whose eyes were just as wide as his own.

Burt drowned his pancakes in syrup and then carried his plate out into the dining room. As soon as he left, Kurt and Blaine erupted into a fit of giggles.

"I can't believe he heard that!" Kurt squeaked out.

"At least he approves?" said Blaine.

"Yeah, well he likes you. Now he knows you have good intentions," Kurt explained.

"I a-a-always had good intentions," Blaine grumbled.

"Well I know that, but he can be a little protective."

Blaine planted a sticky, syrupy kiss on Kurt's lips. "I love you."

—

Blaine: So how is the new roommate working out?

Nick: About a thousand times better than the last one. Thanks again for hooking me up.

Blaine: Anything in the name of friendship :)

Nick: Yeah. You're a good dude, Blaine.

Blaine: So did you sign up to audition for the play yet?

Nick: No. Fucking Yates has already signed up and I just can't deal with him. David is trying to convince me to join the debate team. We'll see.

Blaine: You should get a pass to come visit again soon! Kurt and I will be your Lima bodyguards while we visit all your favorite spots. Breadstix has this great special right now that you simply have to try.

Nick: Don't hold your breath. Someone got caught making hotel reservations to meet a girl on Valentine's Day and now they're putting a hold on passes while they reevaluate their system or some bullshit.

Blaine: So no one can leave? That's insane! For how long?

Nick: They didn't say. So I'm stuck in the asylum for a while.

Blaine: Don't piss off Nurse Ratched.

Nick: HAH

—

"So I have an idea for a Valentine's Day date, but you have to tell me if you think it's lame. Don't just say yes because I suggested it," Kurt insisted nervously.

Blaine raised a questioning eyebrow at him. "Ok-kay. As long as it d-doesn't involve a murder-suicide pact I'm probably game."

"You really need to stop watching reruns of 'True Crimes'. It's warping your sense of reality," Kurt chastised him.

"So wh-what is this date idea?" Blaine prompted, ignoring the dig at his late night TV choices.

Kurt shyly handed him a flyer. In colorful letters at the top it said, "Back to the 80s!"

"Oh my god…is this r-r-r-roller disco?" Blaine gasped in excitement.

"Yeah, I know most people think it's lame but I know how much you like 80s music and it would be something different, so…I don't know, it sounded like it might be fun. Only if you want to, though, I mean we can just do dinner or see a movie." Kurt was starting to ramble, which he tended to do when he was feeling self-conscious. Blaine found it adorable.

"We have to go! This is g-g-going to be so much fun!"

"Really? Okay, then I'll get us tickets. Ooh, do you want to wear 80s workout clothes too so we can embrace the theme?"

"Have you m-met me? Of course I w-w-want to dress up!"

Blaine couldn't help put lean over and press sweet kisses onto Kurt's lips. I wonder what he looks like in spandex.

—

Nick: Dude, I need to talk to you.

Blaine: Sure, what's going on?

Nick: I can't do this over text. It's too important.

Blaine: Are you okay?

Nick: Yeah, like physically. I just…I really need to talk to you. Like face to face or over the phone.

Blaine: I was just there last week! You couldn't tell me then?

Nick: I know, I'm sorry!

Blaine: You know I don't do phone calls.

Nick: Yeah, I get it man. But that was a lot easier to deal with when I saw you everyday at school.

Blaine: Well, can you get an off-campus pass to come to Lima this weekend?

Nick: No. We're still on lockdown.

Nick: There is really no way that you can call me? You don't even need to say much I just need you to listen.

Blaine: Let me look into it.

Nick: THANK YOU

Blaine regretted the offer almost as soon as he had made it. I'll look into it. What does that even mean? He glared at his phone before putting it into his pocket.

—

In the end, Blaine asked the only person he could ask: Ms. Shine.

"Can you h-help me get b-better at talking on the phone?" Blaine asked during his weekly speech session.

"Absolutely. So what is it like right now when you talk on the phone?" she asked.

"I don't," he admitted.

"Ever?"

"I m-m-mean I have, ever, but not in, uh, uh, yyears." He felt a warm wave of shame wash over him.

"So you've been doing some serious situational avoidance, there huh?"

"Uh, b-basically."

"Did we ever do a fear hierarchy the first time around? It's this exercise where you rank situations from most comfortable to least comfortable to speak in."

"Sssounds familiar."

"I wish I had kept it. It would have been neat for us to see what you picked. Ah well, it's certainly changed anyways. I think that would be a good place to start."

Blaine examined the worksheet; it was basically just a ladder printed on a piece of paper. Towards the bottom were the people he felt most comfortable talking with: his parents, his brother, Kurt, close friends, and Ms. Shine. As he got higher up the list, he added harder situations like introducing himself (and the inevitable risk of stuttering on his own name), ordering in restaurants, public speaking. Just above that went 'emotional conversations' and right on top was phone calls.

They reviewed the strategies that Blaine was already using to navigate some of the tougher situations at the middle of the list. He confessed the many ways that he avoided or manipulated situations to ease the burden of talking.

At restaurants, there was always the trick of holding up the menu and pointing to the item he wanted. Fast food was harder, because there usually wasn't a paper menu and the line of people behind him added undue pressure to order expediently. He usually looked up the menu ahead of time so he could have his order ready in his head before he even arrived. Without going into details, he shared how sometimes he used writing to communicate during emotionally charged conversations, proudly telling her that he had stuck up for a friend verbally against a bully recently.

Then they got to the crux of the matter, the dreaded phone call.

"Tell me why you stopped using the phone, Blaine."

"I was a-a-always interrupting or being interrupted. I'd have to re-repeat myself be-because they didn't hear me. But the, um, the-the worst was when I would b-block and they would ju-just hang up thinking there was nnno one on the line."

It wasn't like there was an exact moment he had sworn off using the telephone. But after one of those humiliating incidents of being hung up on, the next time he thought about calling someone he stalled. He kept putting it off, saying he would try again later when it felt less scary, and before he knew it years had gone by.

"Blaine, I think there are a lot of things we can do to help you stop avoiding the phone," Ms. Shine declared confidently.

"Really?"

"Absolutely! As long as you're willing to put in some hard work, which I know you are, then I am confident that this is something we can make progress on. So, the first thing I'm going to have you do is watch me make a phone call. I want you to tally my disfluencies just like I've done for you." She tossed him a booklet of post-its and a pen.

But she doesn't stutter.

"I've been meaning to ask for a day off to attend my sister's wedding but I keep putting it off. I'm actually not the biggest fan of talking on the phone myself, but I've got to be a good role model for my students right, so here goes!"

"Oh, uh, hi…yes, can I, uh, speak to Mr. Barkley please? Oh, well if he's in a-a meeting, then I'll just, uh, I guess I'll—I'll just call back later. Thank you!" Ms. Shine hung up the phone and turned back to Blaine. "So, count 'em up. How many disfluencies did I have?"

"I think…s-six?" Blaine said tentatively. The number seemed high for such a brief interaction.

"Sounds about right," Ms. Shine answered with a shrug. "The point I wanted to get across to you is that most people are less fluent on the phone. As someone who stutters, it is easy to get into this mindset that everyone else around you has perfect fluency."

Blaine felt an unexpected wave of relief. Talking on the phone still seemed impossibly daunting but it did take a little bit of the pressure off.

"Thanks, I think that, uh, helped."

"Good! Alright, some other ideas are to plan out what you are going to say in advance if possible. It will be easier if you are the one making the phone call rather than receiving it, because it takes out the element of surprise."

Blaine grabbed a fresh post-it note and started jotting down notes. These were good ideas.

"As you know, your fluency naturally ebbs and flows from day to day. It's not cheating to take advantage of a day when you're feeling particularly fluent and try out the phone on that day. I know it's still a new technique for you, but that easy stuttering we have been doing is great for the phone. It's all about communicating your message rather than doing it fluently. But really the best thing is going to be practice, practice, practice. You need to desensitize yourself to the phone. After avoiding it for so long, you've probably built it up into this big scary monster in your head. Start with the people you feel most comfortable with. Heck, you can call my office phone from your cell and we can start in here if you want."

"We can? I w-want to do that."

"No time like the present. I'll write down the number with my extension that takes you right through to this office so you don't have to speak with the secretary. Now, your goal is to start with a greeting and state who is calling, ask me…what my favorite color is, and then say goodbye. You can write that down if you want to use notes."

Blaine felt a wave of anxiety as the realization hit him that he was actually about to do this. He took a deep breath. He pulled out his cell phone and opened up the keypad. With trembling fingers, he typed in the numbers Ms. Shine had written down for him.

He held the phone up to his ear and then the phone on her desk began to ring.

"Ready?" she asked.

No! Come on, Blaine, courage. Blaine nodded.

She picked up, "Hello?"

—

Blaine was exuberant when he went over to Kurt's house after school. The practice call with Ms. Shine had been uncomfortable and extremely contrived but it didn't matter because he had done it.

"What are you so excited about?" Kurt asked, looking amused.

"I t-t-talked on the phone today!" Blaine almost whispered, like it was a secret he wasn't supposed to tell.

"Shut up! You did? With who? That's amazing!"

He loved that Kurt understood what a big deal this was. Even though the other Glee kids who knew about his stuttering, he could just picture their blank looks if he had tried to share his news with any of them.

"Just Ms. Shine so far, b-but it was a start!"

Kurt drew Blaine into a warm embrace, squeezing him tightly.

"I'm so proud of you, Blaine! How long had it been since you spoke on the phone before this?"

Blaine had to think about it. "Th-three or four years, I think."

Kurt slung his arms around Blaine's neck and smacked a wet kiss onto his cheek. "You did it!"

I did.

"Will you, uh, p-p-practice with me?" he asked nervously. God, other teenagers are arguing about who is going to hang up first and I'm asking my boyfriend to have practice phone calls with me. This is so not sexy.

"Are you kidding? Of course I will. I would be so honored if you felt comfortable enough with me to try talking on the phone."

Kurt looked at him with those big blue eyes, so sincere and affectionate, and suddenly he couldn't worry about what other people did because this was his relationship and they got to make their own rules.

"You are the world's b-best boyfriend."

"I know," said Kurt coquettishly.

"Oh, I want to sh-sh-show you something." Blaine rifled through his backpack and pulled out the red folder he kept his assignments from Ms. Shine in. He pulled out the fear hierarchy and handed it to Kurt.

He pointed to show Kurt how close his name was to the bottom. "I t-t-told you that you are my safe pl-place."

—

So Blaine practiced. He practiced in speech therapy, he practiced with Kurt and his parents. At first he called them from the same room but slowly he worked his way up to calling from another room in the house.

Kurt suggested that he try video chatting, which turned out to be quite a revelation for Blaine. It was so much easier to work out the timing of whose turn it was to talk when he could see them and they could see him.

"When I talk to you in person, I can always see when you're blocking because your mouth looks like you're talking even if no sound comes out. But on the phone, I realized it's a lot harder without being able to see those clues," Kurt had explained as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

He was ready.

So he picked a day when his fluency had been pretty good and he was feeling relaxed. He found a comfortable position to sit in on his bed and opened up the video chat application on his cell phone. He pulled up Nick's name from his contacts and hit 'call.'

You can do this Blaine. It's Nick. You trust Nick. Nick even knows about your stutter. He won't care if you stutter on the phone. He said it was important.

"Hey, Blaine!"

Nick's face, slightly grainy, appeared on his phone. Blaine used the line he had practiced in the mirror with his easy stuttering strategy.

"Hi, N-N-N-Nick. So what did-did-did you want to t-t-talk about?"

Blaine noticed that Nick was looking down. He's nervous. "Oh, god, okay so I don't really know how to tell you this but you deserve to know. You've been such a mentor and a role model and just all around such a supportive friend and in return I've been a piece of shit."

What the hell is he talking about?

"All it took was one visit from you to finally turn things around at school. It still sucks but now David and I can complain about how much it sucks together. Even just being out to one person there has been such a relief and all of that is thanks to you. You've been so good to me, so I just can't take it anymore, Blaine. You don't deserve to have a friend this bad."

Blaine's heart was starting to pound. So much for relaxed.

"Nick, y-y-y-y-y-you're freaking me —out!"

"I lied to you. I lied to everyone. I'm so sorry, Blaine! I didn't do it to hurt you I was just so scared."

"S-s-scared of what?" Blaine's heart was pounding so loud he could hear it in his ears.

"Those monsters who attacked us, man. Of what would happen if I told. So I lied. I said I didn't see their faces. But I did. I know who did it."

Blaine dropped the phone in shock.

Author's Notes

I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I just couldn't resist a good old-fashioned cliffhanger. Tell me if you ever thought we would pick this loose thread back up! Because unlike many things, I had this planned from the beginning.

Next chapter will be this story's last! In the final chapter, you will hear from both Kurt and Blaine. If you haven't noticed by now, this story has followed a strict schedule of alternating between Kurt and Blaine's POVs each chapter but the final chapter is a slight break from form (technically it does still alternate, but has two in one chapter).

Media References:

Nurse Ratched is the fictional head nurse of a psychiatric institution in the book (later adapted into a film) One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. She is portrayed as a villain who rules the ward with an iron fist, manipulating patients to feed her information and cruelly punishing anyone who gets out of line.

True Crimes: a documentary true crime television show from the early 90s, which I haven't actually seen (I heard it referenced somewhere). It was hard to find much information about it.

Music:

I Gotta Be Me by Sammy Davis Jr. (as featured on Glee, performed by Finn)

Esperanto's Stuttering Corner:

Creating a "fear hierarchy" is a real activity I've used with students. The version I used came from an amazing book called "The School-Aged Child Who Stutters: Working Effectively with Attitudes and Emotions, a workbook" by Kristin Chmela M.A. and Nina Reardon M.S. It is a useful exercise in and of itself but it can also be used to systematically approach having a student try using a certain technique in new environments starting with the easiest and working their way up to the hardest. That's basically what Blaine is doing with the phone calls. He practices first with the people lowest on his fear hierarchy before working his way up to the phone call with Nick (which is probably higher up because he also suspects it will be an emotional conversation).

As for phone calls, they are often high on the fear hierarchy for people who stutter. They are likely to be difficult for people with a wide range of communication disorders. There are many reasons for this, most of which I outlined in the chapter. Talking on the phone is just a much less rich communication context. You strip out all of the visual information (facial expressions, gestures, the shape of the lips which your brain uses to interpret what sound is being heard) and on top of that the sound quality is worse than IRL, which can contribute to miscommunications. For more information on phone calls for people who stutter, The Stuttering Foundation has a good page about phone calls on their website.