A/N: Hello and welcome to my new Klaine fanfic: A Summer Story! I am so excited to finally be sharing this story with ya'll. This story is roughly 80% done and will be updated twice a week: Wednesday nights and Saturday mornings. This first chapter is a lot of set up (I mean, come on, we're building a whole town here) so bear with me and I hope you enjoy! Welcome to your summer in Cassville...
Quick Content Warnings: This fic is mainly rated M for language and some later spicy scenes. But this story also deals with chronic pain and physical therapy struggles and things of that nature, so if you're sensitive to that, you may want to skip this one :)
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.
Chapter 1
Kurt rolled down the window of his Navigator in a desperate attempt to cool down. He had the air conditioning on full blast but it just wasn't doing the trick. It was only May and it was already hotter than Ryan Gosling shirtless. And it wasn't some dry heat that you could shrug off with a little AC. No, no that would have been too easy. Instead, it was a thick, humid heat that seemed to work it's way into everything; under your clothes and into your skin. Ever present and relentless. What a great start to the summer, Kurt thought sarcastically, as he pulled his sunglasses off to wipe his brow with the back of his hand, coming away with a soggy hand that he wiped on his jeans, grimacing the whole time. My poor wardrobe is never going to recover from these sweat stains.
A summer in Arkansas hadn't exactly been the plan. But nursing himself back to health hadn't exactly been the plan this summer either.
It had been a simple lift, one he'd done a thousand times. He knelt low, lifted his Pas de Deux partner across his shoulders and stood, graceful and strong. It had been just the barest step too wide, an awkward shift in his weight and he'd felt a knife-like sensation rip through his back. He had expected to stretch it out later, release the tension in his muscles, sure he'd just pulled something. It happened pretty regularly. Except the problem wasn't in his muscles. And it wasn't going away.
"Well Mr. Hummel, this is a fairly common injury sustained in your profession." Dr. Jackson had explained, holding up some of his X-rays as if Kurt had any idea what his spine was supposed to look like on a good day as opposed to, well a bad day. AKA today.
"You have a herniated disk here," he pointed to the X-ray with his pen, circling a spot in his lower back, "In the L4 and L5 region. That's in your lumbar, your lower back," he explained. "The reason you're experiencing pain in your legs is because this disk? It's pressing against your sciatic nerve."
Kurt shivered a bit at this. He didn't like the sound of this. "Okay, so...how do we fix it?" His hands wrung nervously in his lap where he sat in this oversized exam chair.
The doctor smiled comfortingly and set the X-rays down as he took a seat in his own chair. "With some rest, relaxation and physical therapy. I'm going to put you on a 12 week leave from work. Could need more, could need less but your body needs the time to focus on healing."
The doctor said this so nonchalant, like 12 weeks off of work was no big deal. 12 weeks?! Kurt hadn't had a summer off since highschool! Kurt was sure his face was sporting some sort of mask of horror because Dr. Jackson laughed lightly and continued.
"Don't worry Mr. Hummel. You're young and healthy. I have every reason to believe that you will
make a speedy and full recovery."
Kurt took a deep breath and let it out in a big sigh. It was going to be okay. He was going to be okay. "Thank you doctor," Kurt said, standing and making his way towards the door, ready to be out of this place. He hated hospitals or clinics of any kind. He had his hand on the door when he heard the doctor clear his throat. He turned back around, hand still on the door handle and raised an eyebrow.
Kurt shifted, for not the first time in his two day road trip from New York City to Cassville, Arkansas, trying to alleviate some of the pain that was beginning to ache through the back of his legs. He knew this feeling. It would start in his lower back and slowly, as time crept forward, reach further and further down, until it curled around his toes. Kurt stretched his toes experimentally in his shoes, relieved that he could still feel them and that numbness hadn't set in. Yet.
Kurt shook his head, pushing his worried thoughts from his mind, It will all be okay. You'll spend the summer here, get through your physical therapy and be back in New York in no time.
Back to New York City, to his little one bedroom apartment that was the price of a 4 bedroom house on an acre of land nearly anywhere else. Back to his favorite little bagel shop around the corner, the one that had the best avocado, cream cheese, smoked salmon, Everything bagel you would ever have in your life; he missed it already. Back to his grueling 8 hour days working as a principal dancer for the New York City Ballet.
He hadn't worked his entire life for this dream just to let a little injury get in his way. He was a dancer; injury was guaranteed at some point. It was an inevitability of the job. But he was young and healthy and the doctor himself had said that they had every reason to believe he would bounce right back. They had been about 90% sure.
He was not going to let a little injury somehow trump the 19 years of ballet training and classes and seminars and workshops and productions he had attended. And he most certainly was not going to make everything his father worked for be in vain.
Burt had been Kurt's first idea when he had been forced to take the summer off for recovery. He figured he could spend his 12 weeks in Ohio with Burt and Carole, like old times. Except better because he got to leave Ohio when it was over.
But Burt had retired the year prior and Carole had finally followed in his footsteps just a few months ago. In celebration, they were spending a good part of their summer on a cruise. And while they had passionately and genuinely suggested cancelling this cruise so that they could spend a whole summer with Kurt, he had to insist that they keep their plans. His dad and stepmom had worked too hard for too long, and a lot of that had been in support of him. Dance was not cheap. The shoes, the outfits, the classes, the recital fees...it was enough that some people even took out second mortgages on their homes. So no way in hell was Kurt going to let his amazing parents cancel their first real vacation together.
But, loving parents through and through, after that phone call, Carole had called back with an idea. An idea that had sounded a little crazy and a little brilliant all rolled up into one.
"Do you remember my little sister Darla?" Carol had asked, sounding uncertain that that name would strike any sort of memory for Kurt.
Oh but did it ever. Lovely, lovely Darla, with her wide brown eyes and toothy grin. Her dark brunette hair and funky sense of style; floor length skirts and tons of silver bangle bracelets. Kurt had loved Darla when he was a kid. He still did, he just never really saw her anymore. They lived almost a 20 hours' drive from one another and were both extremely busy. Kurt with his job as a ballet dancer and Darla. With her small local dance school.
And therein lie Carole's idea.
"Well, Darla's school has been doing really well. I was talking to her the other night and she was griping about how she's looking to hire an assistant to help her out but she's having a hard time finding someone. Why not give her a call and see if she could use you this summer?"
Kurt had bit his lip and mulled this over a second. He had such fond memories of Darla. She had always been so accepting of him when the rest of Carole's family had just seemed to ignore him. Which, he supposed, was better than openly disagreeing with his sexual "preference", but Darla's warmth had always made Kurt feel special. Like he really belonged in this family. But…
"I don't know Carole," Kurt had said, chewing on his bottom lip, "I'm supposed to be staying away from dance this summer. Hence, why I need to get out of New York." He laughed a little, knowing that if he stayed in this city that he associated with his career and passion, he would go crazy in two seconds flat. All of his acquaintances (friends was too strong of a word) were fellow dancers. He'd be alone in a sea of people, drifting around the city without a purpose and that just sounded depressing.
"Oh hon, you'd be teaching 4 year olds, I hardly think it would be anything too strenuous for a minor injury." Kurt couldn't help but grimace. He felt bad not having told his parents the whole truth. But the doctors had been 90% sure…
"Plus, you and I both know that you'd go insane without some form of dance in your life, Kurt." He could hear the gentle knowing smile on her voice. Damn, she was good.
"You know me too well Carole, too well. I don't know whether to be flattered or distrubed." Kurt joked, but he had to admit she had a point. "Go ahead and give me Darla's number, I'll give her a call and see what she thinks."
And so now, here he was, 2 weeks later, in an overheated Lincoln Navigator, sweating profusely, cursing the humid southern heat and wondering if it was too early to be regretting this decision and too late to turn around. He was failing to see how this town in the deep south could be any more accepting than his hometown in Ohio. It was bound to just be another blue collar working community, full of honest hard-working, homophobic people who would take one look at him and scoff at the idea of a man dancing for a living.
At that moment, Kurt passed a sign that read, "Cassville: 15 miles". He was getting close. He shifted more in his seat, trying to find a position that was comfortable with no luck. His legs felt like they were on fire. Slowly and surely being consumed in a white hot heat. Kurt was almost worried that when he got out of this car, his legs wouldn't hold him up.
But they had to. Whatever happened, he would have to stand because no one could know. He hadn't told anyone. Not his job, not his family, no one knew that the doctors had been only 90% sure he'd fully recover. 90% is a high percentage. Most people would be thrilled with it. But not Kurt. Not when he'd spent his entire life doing everything right. He exercised, he got enough sleep, he ate healthy, he hadn't even had a cocktail in years! So how, how, at 25 years old did he have a highly qualified doctor sitting him down and saying things like, we're 90% sure you'll make a full recovery? How was that fair? How dare his body betray him like that?
So no, when he finally pulled up to Darla's beautiful two story home, he swung his legs out of that car and stood, God dammit. His body owed him that. And he took one step and then another and another, biting back his pain and forcing a smile on his face before the front door flew open and then the screen door exploded out in the opposite direction with a loud creaking sound.
"Kurt!" Darla called, her face split wide open with a grin. She ran down the few steps of the front porch, across the front lawn and launched herself into the exhausted man. He grimaced but caught the small woman. Despite the pain, his forced smile became a little more genuine; Darla really was something else.
"Oh darlin', it is so good to see you!" Darla said, finally releasing the tall man to look him up and down, appraisingly. "Oh my, you've grown into such a gorgeous young man, although I can't say I'm surprised." She winked cheekily at him and earned a bit of a blush in return.
"Well, come on, let's grab your bags and get inside!" Darla said, moving to the trunk of the car to help Kurt carry his bags in. "Oh my, did you bring your whole apartment?" The back was stuffed with such precision, that she was afraid pulling one thing out in error would cause the whole stack to fall, like Jenga.
"I'm going to be here all summer, I wanted to be prepared." Kurt answered, beginning to remove suitcase after suitcase from the back of the Navigator.
"Prepared? For what? The end of times?" Darla scoffed, giving Kurt a look that said she was kidding.
He rolled his eyes but smiled and between the two of them, were able to get the bags inside in a few trips.
The house was a gorgeous old home. It wasn't quite a victorian style, it was something a little more subdued, a little more humble. It was painted a light blue color, almost like a robin's egg and even had some sort of ivy growing up the left side of the house. The left side of the house looked almost like a turret of some sort, regal almost. Or maybe the poorer cousin of regal, with a dash of humility. The front porch was bright white and looked like it had been recently repainted. It extended out to the right of the front door and wrapped around to cover a second side of the house. The porch was wide and peaceful and boasted a beautiful selection of flowers planted in front of it. It had rocking chairs and benches and plenty of places for people to sit. Kurt sort of marvelled at that, wondering how any visitors withstood the heat. It was May and already boiling outside.
He followed Darla inside, passing through first the rickety screen door and then a gorgeous solid wood front door that looked to be original and painted a moody navy blue.
He found himself in an entry hall of sorts. To his left was a steep staircase that went up, curved to the right and then ended in a landing, where you could go to the right or the left. He assumed the bedrooms were up there as Darla had him stack his luggage next to the stairs.
"Alright, let me give you a little tour," Darla said, absolutely beaming with excitement and clasping her hands in front of her as if she was going to swoon.
"The room on the right is the living room or the parlor, you might hear it called that while you're down here." Kurt shook his head. Where the hell was he? A parlor? It's like he'd stepped back in time or something.
"To the left is a formal dining room, but I don't really use that a whole lot. I have a little table in the kitchen in the breakfast nook." Oh, of course this story book house in this story book town had a fucking breakfast nook.
Darla led him further into the house, where he saw a door underneath the stairs. "Closet?" He asked, eyebrow quirked.
Darla beamed, "Powder room. I had it added a few years ago so that my guests didn't have to go upstairs to use the restroom. It was terribly inconvenient!" She swung the little door open to reveal a small but functional room with a toilet and sink. There wasn't a lick of room for anything else but it was enough.
Kurt nodded his appreciation; he had to applaud the ingenuity. It couldn't be easy working on a home of this age and making it work for more modern day needs.
Finally moving on from the closet bathroom, they reached the back of the house where he found that the entire back half of the house was just a massive kitchen. It was nicely updated and screamed home renovation. There was no way that house built no later than the 1940s had a kitchen of this size originally. It opened up on both the left and right sides, meaning that the bottom level of the house was essentially just a circle around the staircase in the middle.
On the right side was that little table Darla had mentioned. However, she had not mentioned that when she said little she meant that it was basically for children. If Kurt ever fit his legs under that thing, it'd be a miracle. Or he'd be trapped for 128 hours and need to chew his own legs off to escape. Hey, that's an idea! Kurt thought darkly as his legs continued to pulse with pain.
Behind the table were large glass sliding doors that allowed an ample amount of light to flood the pale yellow kitchen. To the left of the table, there were cabinets on both sides, with a large island in the middle. There was another window above the kitchen sink, facing out to the back yard and letting in even more light. Despite Kurt's surly mood and aching body, he had to admit that this room made you smile. It was so bright and cheery. It was like someone had captured his Aunt Darla's aura in the attitude of this room.
"Wow," Kurt breathed, sufficiently impressed. The kitchen was basically the size of his apartment in New York.
Darla nodded in agreement. "I know, right? I've put a lot of work into this house." She said lovingly.
Kurt smiled down at her, "It shows. It's beautiful Darla." Kurt may have been in pain but he truly adored his Aunt Darla. If nothing else went right this summer, he was still glad to be spending time with her.
Her toothy grin was aimed right back at him as she finally grabbed his arm and began to steer him back towards the stairs and his luggage. "Alright, well that's pretty much it for the lower level. Upstairs is your room, to the left and mine is on the right. Speaking of putting a lot of work into this house, you actually have your own bathroom for your room, so feel free to set up however you like. There's a little linen closet in the hallway if you need fresh towels or something, alright darlin'?" Kurt loved Darla's mild southern accent, the way she always ended words in a relaxed sort of drawl. It felt so warm and comforting.
Kurt smiled and nodded, looking apprehensively at his luggage and the stairs. His legs were screaming in protest and even his lower back had joined the party. He didn't want Darla to see him struggle up, one step at a time in what would undoubtedly take several trips. But he could do nothing once Darla grabbed the first two suitcases and was bounding up the stairs like someone half her age. He followed suit, doing his best not to cry.
Once all of his bags were stacked in the corner of his rather spacious room, he sat gingerly on the side of the bed and sighed as the pressure was taken off of his feet. Never in his life did he think standing could be such a chore.
"So," Darla huffed, a little out of breath from her marathon up and down the stairs, "Why don't you take a minute to get settled and cleaned up and then I'll take you on a little tour of the town?" Her eyes were wide and bright as she shoved her sweaty, curling hair away from her face, the humidity making it frizzy and untamable.
"Oh, I don't know," Kurt stuttered out, feeling dread curl around his stomach. "I'm pretty exhausted-"
"Oh darlin' it's not a very big town, it won't take but a minute," Darla laughed. Her laugh sobered slightly when she saw the glint of terror in Kurt's eyes and something akin to recognition flashed in her own, "Oh hon" she cooed, sitting down gently next to Kurt on the bed, "Are you hurtin'?" She rested a hand on his cheek, turning his eyes to look at her. How Darla wasn't a mother was beyond him; she was a natural.
Kurt couldn't help it as his body took over and nodded in affirmation for him.
Darla made another cooing noise and petted his face a little, "I'm sorry Kurt, I just wasn't thinkin'. Carole told me about your injury of course, but I didn't realize it was that bad." She worried her bottom lip, looking like she'd been punched in the gut.
"Oh, no no, it's not like that Darla!" Kurt hurried out, anything to get that look off her face. "It's a very minor injury. Sometimes the pain flares up, but it's not that bad," Lies, "I'm just cranky from driving all day and the heat." True.
Darla smiled cautiously, seemingly buying his story, "You get used to it. The heat, that is."
Kurt scoffed as he stood, body protesting. "Aww, what a sweet lie," Kurt said, moving over to one of his suitcases, trying to focus on anything but his aunt's face so she wouldn't see his pain stricken expression. "Let me just take a quick shower and we can get going, okay?" He took a deep breath, turned and smiled his best smile at Darla.
She studied him for a minute, really looked at him and then broke into a wide, trusting smile. He hated lying to her but he just couldn't have her knowing that he may be broken beyond repair. Or maybe he just didn't want to have to admit it outloud.
"Now, as your doctor, I am obligated to tell you that there is a chance, a very slim chance, but a chance nonetheless that there could be some lasting effects from this." The doctor looked almost bashful, like he was truly sorry to have to say this.
"L...L-Lasting effects?" Kurt asked quietly.
Dr. Jackson nodded. "Yes. When it comes to nerves, well…there's a lot we just don't know or
understand. It's not very common, but sometimes routine injuries like this can cause lasting nerve damage."
Kurt felt his eyes blow up to twice their size, his mouth dropping open in shock.
The doctor hurriedly added, "But like I said, you're young, you're healthy and we caught this early."
Kurt felt his face turn a shade paler, which was impressive considering his already ghostly pallor. He suddenly felt the heavy pit of guilt in his stomach.
" I am 90% sure that you will make a full recovery. This time next year, this will all be a distant memory." Dr. Jackson smiled, trying to coax a matching one onto Kurt's face, to no avail.
One long, cold shower later, Kurt walked down the stairs carefully, his lower half feeling a little better with rest. He saw the front door was open, the screen door closed and peaked out to find Darla sitting with a glass of sweet tea on the front porch. She turned as she heard the screen door creak open.
"Hey darlin', feelin' better?" She asked, a smile permanently tattooed on her lips.
Kurt nodded, thankful that he actually meant it a little bit this time. "Yeah. Except I'm already sweating," He grimaced as he felt sweat beading on his forehead. It was nearly 7 o'clock at night but the sun was still beating down relentlessly, another endless day of what was sure to be an endless summer.
Darla laughed, "Don't worry so much; it's just a part of life down here." Kurt saw that her skin was also covered in a thin sheen of sweat. But on her it looked dewy, giving her a sort of tanned glow. On Kurt's pale ivory skin, it looked like he was experiencing a hot flash or that he was breaking a fever or something equally sickly and contagious.
"Well, you make anything look good," Kurt offered, and honestly? He sort of meant it. Darla was beautiful. She was in her early 50s and slim from years of dance. Her dark brunette hair was starting to sport some streaks of silver but it only made her look more distinguished. Her hair was probably naturally wavy, but in the summer heat it was frizzy and huge. She had it pulled back into a low ponytail in a flat clip but it only did enough to keep most of it off her face. She wore a simple linen dress, cream colored and airy that fell just below her knees. The simplicity of it helped to balance out the chunky wooden beaded necklaces she was wearing and the several silver bangle bracelets on her wrists. Her feet were clad in some sturdy looking sandals, more for comfort than fashion, Kurt assumed. But still, she pulled it off. She always had. It was one of the many, many reasons Kurt adored her.
Darla giggled, looking so darn happy to have someone around, "Oh, kettle calling the pot black I see?"
Kurt just groaned, "Don't patronize me Darla, it's been a long day and I didn't realize that summer was already in full swing here."
"Oh darlin', this is just the beginning," Darla smirked, "Wait until August. That's when it really gets toasty."
Darla just laughed as Kurt groaned, and started walking down the road, into town. Darla lived on the fringes of town, but to Kurt, the whole town was really just a fringe. It was so small that it seemed like if you blinked, you'd miss it. The houses were all in the old, modestly ornate style of Darla's and they were all immaculately cared for. If these houses existed anywhere else, they'd be worth a small fortune, just for the history and novelty alone, of that Kurt was sure.
The houses all had large green lawns and sat far apart from one another. The distance between homes got, slowly but surely a little smaller the further they walked into town. It seemed like every single place had someone sitting on the front porch, drinking an ice cold beverage or kids playing in sprinklers in the front lawn and everyone, everyone, waved and said hello as they passed by. If that hadn't given Kurt definite small town vibes, the fact that their leisurely 10 minute walk now had them on the main drag, appropriately named Main Street, would have clued him in.
Downtown, if that's really what you would call it, was maybe three streets wide, running parallel to one another with 2 streets running perpendicular to those, lacing everything together in a grid pattern. As far as Kurt could see, that was it. That was literally everything.
"Welcome to Cassville!" Darla cried, throwing her arms up over her head and spinning around, as if thrilled to be sharing this with Kurt. Kurt had never visited her home before, she'd always been the one to come to Ohio.
"So this in Main Street, I know, I know, it's cliche. The next one over is Peach Street and the next one over from that is Walnut." She pointed vaguely to their right, as they'd apparently entered on the left most street in town. "Then you have Tulip Street, which is this intersecting street here and the one up ahead is Copper Street."
"Who picked these names?" Kurt asked, unable to stop the smile on his face. This place was ridiculous. It was like some sort of fairytale; Kurt didn't know that quaint little towns like this still existed. Even Lima was fairly large nowadays.
Darla rolled her eyes, not agreeing but also not disagreeing with Kurt's implied point. They strolled down Main Street as Darla casually pointed out things, a florist shop, the post office, a little bakery, a beauty supply store, each one just as charming as the next. A lot of the buildings were brick, with colorful awnings proudly declaring what they were. The streets were lined with street lights that appeared to be gas. Kurt felt like he'd been dropped into the 1960s. Everything was just so damn wholesome.
"Howdy Ms. Darla!" A voice cried jovially from the front door of a shop. An older black man with short white hair and goatee had paused in sweeping his front stoop to shoot her a big smile and wave.
"Hi there, Doug!" Darla said just as happily as she walked straight up to him, giving him a warm hug. "I'd like for you to meet my nephew, Kurt Hummel!" She spread her arms wide as if Kurt was some prize on the Wheel of Fortune. "He'll be helping me out at the dance school this summer." She said, sounding so proud.
"And Kurt, this is Doug. He's our local pharmacist and he owns, well," she gestured to the sign over the door. Doug's drugs. Kurt heard Doug laugh and say, "I couldn't pass up the opportunity. I believe that's what they call destiny."
Doug gave Kurt a kind smile and stuck out his hand for him to shake. "Glad to meet you Kurt! So where are you visiting from?"
A little startled by Doug's open, unwavering expression, he stuttered a little before saying, "Oh, um, New York City, sir."
Doug's eyebrows shot into his hairline as he shot Darla wide, impressed eyes. Darla just gushed, "Kurt's a principal ballet dancer with the New York City Ballet!" She threw her arm around Kurt's waist and pulled him close, staring up at him with adoring eyes.
Kurt blushed at the praise and instinctually braced himself for Doug's reaction. He hadn't had the best reactions in Ohio towards his profession. More often than not, people just wanted to know why he insisted on prancing around in tights and leotards or said something along the lines of I thought only girls were ballerinas...
However, once again, Doug surprised him. "Wow, well ain't that something," he said, sounding genuinely impressed. "Well, I sure am glad that Darla has you around this summer then; she works herself to the bone keeping that school going."
"So I've heard," Kurt said.
"Alas, I only get him for the summer," Darla said dramatically, placing the back of her hand on
her forehead like she was going faint, before giggling.
Doug shook his head good naturedly, giving the impression that he was very used to Darla's silliness. "Shame it's only the summer; I bet Darla would love to have you full time…" He trailed off, raising an eyebrow.
Kurt laughed, "As tempting as it is, I only have the summer off to uh, to recover from a minor injury. They gave me up to 12 weeks and then I should be cleared to get back to work." He hoped he sounded convincing and casual because he definitely didn't feel it.
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. In that case, I know it's probably not as exciting as the Big Apple, but I hope you enjoy your summer in Cassville." His following smile was so warm that Kurt couldn't help but wonder if he'd maybe jumped to conclusions about the type of people who would be living down here.
"Thank you," Kurt said and he really meant it. They shook hands once more and he and Darla turned to continue down Main Street.
They passed a large movie theatre right next door to the drug store and across the street, sandwiched between Tulip St. and Copper St. wsa a huge building that appeared to be made entirely from limestone. It was the court house. It was beautiful and the lush lawn around it was a deep emerald green.
They turned right down Copper Street, a nicely sized park on the left side of the street. Families with young children were gathered there, it looked like they were maybe having a kid's birthday party. It was all so idyllic. They hung another right down Peach Street and Kurt's eyes were immediately caught by a bright silver, chromed out building, looking to be the picture of modernism in the 50s or 60s. Sure enough, it was a diner. As they walked past, Kurt could see the red and white tiled floors inside and the red vinyl booths set in front of the windows. All it was missing was some greasers in leather jackets with switchblade combs.
Darla chattered on and on about this business and that shop and it seemed that every few steps someone was saying hello or shooting them a friendly wave.
Some people stopped to chit chat amicably; Darla was obviously a beloved member of the community, but every single one of them also extended a warm welcome to Kurt with an air of ease. It was stunning, really. Maybe this town wasn't as small minded as he had feared it would be. It also became evident that most people knew of his arrival.
"Small town gossip; it spreads fast," Darla had joked, but Kurt didn't really mind. In fact, it was sort of nice that most people seemed to know he was here with some sort of injury, it saved him having to explain it over and over again. He was sure that would have been worse than some innocent townies passing the story around amongst themselves.
They started to circle their way back towards Darlas' house. Darla pointed out her dance school, a coffee shop, a hardware store, everything was a mom and pop establishment. Gentrification? Franchising? We don't know her.
"Where are all of the houses?" Kurt suddenly thought to ask. Everything down on the Square (that's what he'd heard the town referred to by the locals) seemed to be a business or something owned by the city, like the courthouse. He'd seen some residences slotted in here and there, but that couldn't be everything, could it? He knew it was a small town, but there had to be more than 10 residents.
"Oh, just like my house, most of the people live outside the square, on the fringes of the town. There's more room out there. Houses on the outside, business on the inside." She replied.
Kurt nodded, trying to take in how drastically his surroundings had changed in the last two days. "This place is so...charming." Kurt said, and it really was.
"It is, isn't it?" Darla said, looking up at Kurt and wrinkling her nose in a way that only she could make look lovely. "I love it here." She sighed, looking damn near dreamy. "It's a town filled with really good, kind people."
"I have to say, I uh...I was a little surprised that everyone was so...kind and welcoming." He felt a little embarrassed admitting this. He'd been doing exactly what he was afraid everyone else would do to him: making assumptions. Judging.
Darla just gave him a confused look. Kurt huffed, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. "I kind of scream gay, Darla. It's not really a secret. Most people just assume it and I mean...they're right but...I don't know. I guess I just imagined this place would be alot like Lima…" He felt a blush coloring his skin as he ducked his face down.
He glanced up through his eyelashes to see Darla giving him a warm, knowing look, finally understanding what he meant. "Darlin' I wouldn't have offered to have you here this summer if I thought you wouldn't be safe here, you know that, right?"
Kurt nodded, of course he knew that. Darla had always been so accepting of everything.
"Speaking of which," Darla got that wicked smile on her face as they left the square behind, following Main Street down towards the house, "You got anyone special waiting for you back in New York?"
Kurt laughed. He literally, openly laughed. "No Darla, I do not, nor have I. In a very long time." It really didn't bother him; he'd been too busy and told Darla as much as she asked just why not, sounding simply scandalized.
She didn't seem to like the answer very much but she had to acquiesce some, "I mean, who am I to talk, right? I've poured my life into the school and you know what? I have no regrets. However, you, young man, are simply too gorgeous to not have some insanely attractive men chasing you."
Kurt snickered. There had been suitors, sure. But none of them had really seemed worth it to work into his busy schedule. "I could say the same for you, now couldn't I?"
Darla narrowed her eyes at him, "You sure are a smart aleck, aren't you?"
"You love me," Kurt cooed, linking Darla's arm with his own. Even though she was in her early 50s, she'd always felt sort of like an older sister. Her soul was just so youthful.
Her eyes softened and she relaxed into Kurt's side a little, "That I do darlin', that I do."
The sun finally began to set around 9 pm and after the dishes from their dinner had been cleared, Darla convinced Kurt to come sit awhile on the front porch with her. "If you're spending a whole summer here, you're gonna have to get used to some good ole' fashioned porch sittin'." She had joked. At least, he thought she was joking.
But here he was, bone tired and leaned back in a rocking chair, glass of lemonade, sitting on the front porch, watching the sunset in a torrent of pinks and oranges. His legs were aching but they were cooperating for the time being and the pain was manageable.
"Have you set up your physical therapy yet?" Darla asked, sipping her own lemonade.
Kurt shook his head, "Not yet. My doctor back in New York got me a list of physical therapists and doctors in and around the area, so I'll start making calls on Monday."
Darla nodded, "Well, that's the priority, so you make sure you set those appointments whenever you need to; we'll work your schedule at the school around that and make it work."
"Speaking of which, what classes am I taking over?" Kurt hadn't really thought too much about the fact that he'd actually be teaching this summer. He liked kids though, so he didn't really foresee any problems.
"I think I'll have you take over the younger classes. Probably nothing older than my 10 year olds. I'll keep the older classes for myself, seeing as how I don't want you pushing yourself. And maybe just helping out at the front desk, scheduling, billing, you know, some administrative stuff. It's a little boring but it needs to be done and it will give you some time off your feet." She saw that Kurt was about to protest, so she quickly cut it, "Plus, it would be nice if at least one other person on this planet knew how to do that stuff. Would be a weight off my shoulders." She smiled knowingly as Kurt relented and nodded in agreement. "Plus, you know, I'm not that much younger than Carole. Maybe someday, when I retire, these skills will come in handy for you…?"
Kurt smiled, rolling his eyes, "I'm flattered, really. But unless I can pick the school up and move it back to New York with me, I don't think I'll be taking it off your hands anytime soon."
Darla giggled, not surprised in the least. Kurt was too bright of a star to be stuck teaching kids how to plie in the prime of his dancing years. "I've shut the school down this weekend so I could help you get settled before we flip the school over to its' summer schedule so we'll start on Monday, and I'll just have you shadow me for a day or two, so you can see where each class is at and what we're working on."
"Summer schedule?" Kurt questioned, taking another sip of lemonade. It had to have about a weeks' worth of sugar in it but damn was it refreshing. The sun was almost completely gone under the horizon but he was still sweating. He didn't know if he'd ever stop this summer.
Darla smiled and nodded, "Yeah, during the school year, the school is open to accommodate for after school hours and on the weekend. But in the summer, I found it works better for a lot of families' schedules to adopt a more 9 to 5, Monday through Friday schedule. It just gives families more options and leaves their evenings and weekends open for events or trips or the like. It also helps keep the kids active and occupied during the day. Out of trouble."
"There's trouble to get into out here?" Kurt joked. "I don't see how considering the Square is straight out of the 1960s."
"We're a bit old fashioned in some regards, I'll admit. But a classic is a classic, and we know not to mess with something that's not broken." Darla said hautily, giving Kurt a look of faked superiority.
Kurt just laughed and finished off his lemonade. His body was screaming for sleep, his eyes so heavy he wasn't even sure he could take the second shower he felt he desperately needed after their leisurely stroll in the humid southern heat.
"Well, Darla, I think it's time for me to bid you adu. I'm exhausted and you do not want to see me without my beauty sleep." He stood, stretching experimentally and relieved to feel his legs behaving themselves.
Darla just scoffed and stood, giving Kurt a big hug. "Sleep tight darlin'."
As Kurt turned to walk inside, into the sweet, sweet air conditioning that ran constantly and still wasn't nearly enough, he heard Darla call out to him softly. He turned around, hand still on the handle to the screen door.
"I know this probably isn't how you pictured your summer going and I know the circumstances of your time off work aren't...ideal but, well...I'm glad you're here Kurt." She smiled soft and genuine, her face drenched in that dewy summer glow.
Kurt just smiled, not really sure how to respond. The town had already surpassed his expectations, but...it just wasn't where he belonged. He wanted to be back in New York. He wanted to be dancing again. He wanted to be better.
A few hours later, as the house finally quieted, he was swamped in an unfamiliar darkness, so black he felt like he was drowning in solitude. There were no honking horns or neon signs flashing through his window to lull him to sleep. Instead, he lay in bed, tossing and turning as he was serenaded by cicadas and nighttime. Kurt's brain had no defenses against this silence anymore. His mind couldn't help but circle back, back to the day where he'd been reduced to 90% sure.
"A-and...and what happens if I don't recover?" He didn't want to ask, but he had to. He had to know. "What happens if I have lasting nerve damage?"
The doctor looked a little uncomfortable but he answered, "Well then...you'll have to learn to manage the pain. But there's physical therapy for that and medication. You could still live a good life. But Kurt, I really feel like you're jumping the gun a little bit here. Do your 12 weeks of P.T. first. Then we'll reevaluate. Like I said, you're young, you're healthy and we caught this early."
But they hadn't.
Kurt had lied to his family about the severity of his injury, the level of pain he was in and the potential for lasting damage.
But he'd also lied to his doctor.
Because they hadn't caught it early.
Because the injury had happened in February and he had danced through it for nearly 3 months. Five days a week, eight hours a day, he had pushed through, convinced that he would work through it, that it would get better. But it had only gotten worse and worse.
Kurt felt like he was drowning in his lies, trying to protect everyone from his ugly truths and stupidity; his youthful belief that he'd always bounce back. And the only way to solve this was to get better so that no one would ever have to know how foolish he'd been in trying to fix himself.
And someday, years from now, this would either be some funny story he told about that summer he spent in Arkansas or it would be the story of the last summer he was able to dance.
A/N: Oooo, intrigue! Let me know what ya'll think! Leave a review and make sure to follow or favorite so you don't miss the next update! See ya on Wednesday!