Blaine and Jeff spent practically every minute together, or so it felt. Neither grew tired of the other's presence; they had perfectly compatible personalities and appreciated silence and activity equally.
The job at Six Flags was exhausting and exhilarating. Five days out of the week, they were expected to perform their routine, a 30 minute medley of popular songs, at least five times throughout the day. Luckily, they never performed at night, and could enjoy the park in the hours between their sets. Blaine was a daredevil, and Jeff was terrified of heights. It made for an amusing summer, as he slowly got his friend to work his way from the kiddie rides all the way up to the most terrifying, fastest, gravity-defying roller coasters in the park. After their first ride on the biggest coaster in the park, he was worried that he'd accidentally broken Jeff. Instead, once Jeff finally broke out of his stupor, the boy turned to Blaine with a giant grin plastered on his face.
"That. Was. Awesome! Can we go again?"
Blaine laughed, but eagerly followed his friend back to the end of the line.
By the time the end of the summer had rolled around, Jeff, with the help of Trent, Sebastian, and Nick, had convinced Blaine to audition for the Warblers come September.
He told Matt about it in one of their sessions in August. Since the beginning of summer, their sessions had been reduced to once every other week. He felt proud and encouraged at the improvement, but still wasn't sure if he wanted to ever completely "graduate" from therapy. As much as he loved his parents, Cooper, Sydney, and all his new friends, there was no one that he felt he could say everything to without judgement. They were all too invested.
"I think it's great that you're starting to dive back into some of the hobbies that you used to participate in," Matt said. "But it doesn't really matter what I think. Are you ready for this?"
Blaine was silent for a moment. "I know that I spent the last, like, year telling everyone that I didn't want to do it because it felt too much like if I tried to be the same person that I was with her then I couldn't be the person that my family wanted back. But… now I know, I guess, that the only person my family wants is me, and if I am really myself, I'm gonna do the stuff I like. Even if it's stuff I did when she was in my life."
Matt grinned and clapped slowly. "Well said."
Overall, this summer had been leaps and bounds better than the last. Of course, anything would be better than learning that you're not who you think you are, Blaine reasoned, but he also felt happier and freer. His parents encouraged him to go out with friends, to have fun at work, to be himself. Marilyn had always been so over-protective, would barely let him out of her sight. Back then, he'd thought it was just her way of showing love, but he now realized that it was stifling.
His birthday celebration had been a mixed bag. He hadn't even remembered it was coming up, still not used to that date flowing off his tongue when someone asked his birthdate, until his mom had asked if he wanted to have friends over for a party that evening. He and Jeff managed to pool together enough guest passes at Six Flags to get Sebastian, Trent, and Nick in for the day, and then the five boys spent the evening eating pizza and playing video games in his basement. It hadn't felt like a birthday, but it had felt like a celebration.
Then, the next day, his grandma and grandpa came over. He'd gotten more used to them as they lived so close and would come for dinner at least once a month. But the pressure of a family birthday celebration for the first time in 13 years got to him and he'd spent his next session with Matt a complete wreck, sure that he would never assimilate into the person his family wanted him to be.
Overall, though, the summer had been good. He'd strengthened his new friendships, built lasting memories with his parents, and even managed to do his summer reading and math assignments before the end of August. In all the hustle of work and play, he barely had enough time to let his mind wander, and he hadn't had a nightmare in weeks.
The night before senior year started, Blaine went up to bed early. He double- and triple-checked that his bag was packed with all the supplies he'd need for school, made sure that his neatly pressed blazer, shirt, and slacks were hanging at the ready, and put on headphones to listen to his planned Warblers audition song over and over until it lulled him to sleep. Nothing was going to stop senior year from being Blaine's year.
He was in his bedroom in the first apartment he and mom had lived in back in Sacramento. It was small, too small. There was only one bedroom, and mom had put a lock on the outside of the door because he kept trying to leave, to find his mommy and daddy, when she left to get groceries.
She'd taken him grocery shopping once, but took him home without buying anything when he ran up to the cashier and asked for help. She practically dragged him up the stairs to the apartment and shoved him against the wall. He couldn't remember her words, but he could remember how her face twisted, her voice low and threatening. Then she'd locked him in the bedroom so he couldn't get away.
Now he sat here, scared and hungry. She still wasn't home and he had to go. Mommy had been so proud of him for using the big boy toilet and told him that he was grown up now but he really, really had to go and he didn't want to wet his pants like a baby but -
He'd had no choice. He sat, crying, in his wet pants, until he heard the front door open and began calling out. When she opened the door, he was happy to see her. Happy because she helped him clean up. Her hands were gentle, and she spoke softly and told him that he was such a good boy and everyone makes mistakes sometimes. She called him Peter again, and he didn't bother correcting her.
He awoke in a panic, not sure where or who he was. Everything around him was wet and for a moment he worried that he had wet the bed too, not just the boy in his dream – his memory. But as he got to shaky feet and untangled the sheets, he realized that it was, thankfully, just sweat.
The sky was still inky black outside the window, and the LED clock told him it was only four in the morning. But just like every other nightmare he'd had since coming to Ohio, he knew that he wouldn't be able to sleep.
He pulled a notebook out of his bedside drawer. Matt had asked him to start writing in it when the dreams first started. Other than some small flashes, though, the dreams usually just made him feel things. Feel scared and small and alone. This was the first time in a long time that he'd had such a vivid memory.
His hand shook as he gripped the pen. How could he even begin to describe it?
I remembered when I became Peter, he wrote.
He sleepwalked through his first day at Dalton and was heading back out to the parking lot to go home when Trent caught up to him and reminded him that he still had his Warbler's audition. He tried to shake the shadows from his mind as he followed his friend inside. He was able to put on his performer's face, and sang and danced to one of the songs from the medley that he and Jeff had perfected over the summer. Then he went home, recounted his first day of school in detail to Pam, and went to bed.
Lather, rinse, repeat.
It wasn't every night, but it happened more nights than not. He was remembering more and more and he had no idea why. Where were these memories coming from?
He remembered the day that he picked up the phone to call his mommy, only to realize that he'd forgotten the number.
He remembered the day that his mom had slapped him across the face, out in the park, because he'd told her "You're not my real mom."
He remembered the first time she took him to the library. They wandered between all the shelves, and she let him pick out any book he wanted, even if they weren't kids books. It made him feel special and important so when she read him the story of Peter Rabbit, he told her, "Just like me!" because he knew that it would make her happy.
He remembered watching Peter Pan and feeling something deep in his chest shift as Wendy and her brothers escaped the Darling nursery to go to Neverland. His mom, he decided, was just like Peter Pan. She brought him to a new and wonderful world. Sometimes when she got scary or mean, he just told himself that the pirates had taken over for a while.
He even remembered a different place, memories of a sunny home with two parents and a brother. There wasn't much there, not much more than smiles and warmth and sunshine. But it laid in stark contrast to the small, dark apartment where he and mom resided in his mind.
He remembered forgetting.
October was nearly over when someone finally noticed. Or maybe, many people had noticed, but it was the first time he woke up enough to realize.
"You don't look so hot, killer," Sebastian said one morning as he passed over a steaming cup of coffee. Sebastian probably thought that he'd won and finally convinced him to drink coffee, but really the sleepless nights filled with unbidden memories had driven him to caffeine addiction.
"Gee, thanks, Sebastian. You really know how to make a guy feel special."
"Oh, come on. I mean, you look tired. And you haven't really been all that present lately, you know?"
"What do you mean? I'm here. How much more present can I get?"
"I don't know, mentally, maybe?"
"What does that even mean?" He knew he was deflecting. Sebastian had a point. He just didn't want to admit that he was struggling, not after everything had finally gotten good.
"Like in Warblers practice. David just gave you a competition solo, which new members almost never get, and you barely even said thanks. There wasn't even a bit of groveling!"
He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. "I just haven't been sleeping well lately."
"You know, I'd be more than happy to help tire you out if that's where you're having problems," Sebastian said with a wink as he moved his hand down past his lower back.
"Very funny, Seb. No, it's just been a lot of… bad dreams. Whatever. I'm fine."
"No, you're clearly not," Sebastian said, grabbing his hand to keep him from walking away. Sebastian's face was 100% serious. "Is this about ... Sacramento and stuff?"
He nodded.
"Well have you told your parents? Or your shrink?"
Leave it to Sebastian to jump right to the point. "I don't want people freaking out over me, again. I'm sure this is just something that will go away in time."
Sebastian leveled him with a stern look. "Bullshit."
Sometimes he hated that he'd become friends with Sebastian. Jeff and Trent and Nick and his parents and Cooper, and even sometimes Syd, would just allow him to wallow. But Seb challenged him.
Without him even realizing it, Sebastian had fished his phone from his pocket and already had it unlocked and held up to his ear.
"Hello? Is this Blaine Anderson's shrink? I'm Sebastian. I'm sure he's told you plenty about me, my amazing body, my dick…"
He tried grabbing for the phone but Sebastian held it up out of his reach before continuing the conversation.
"Look, Blaine looks like shit and is in denial that there's a problem. But he told me that he's been having bad dreams and I think he needs to talk to you about it…. Uh-huh. Yeah, he's next to me. Little shrimp is jumping around trying to get at the phone…. Nice chatting with you, too." Sebastian turned to face him, handing over the phone. "It's for you."
He rolled his eyes and snatched the phone from his friend's hand. "I better not get in trouble for being on the phone because of you," he hissed before putting the phone up to his ear. "Hey Matt. Sorry about Sebastian."
Matt had insisted that they schedule an emergency appointment for after school that day. He'd wanted to put it off, wanted to say that it wasn't necessary. But… those hollow, scared eyes that he saw in the mirror after each sleepless night, each nightmare, convinced him otherwise.
He swung by home during lunch to grab his dream journal for Matt and left a note for his mother that he'd be home late.
Matt was waiting in his office, typing at his computer when he arrived. He cleared his throat as he knocked on the door frame, feeling slightly frustrated that after months of this, he was back to being nervous and unsure.
After settling into his normal chair, he looked up to see Matt grinning at him.
"So, Sebastian, huh?"
"Ugh," he groaned.
"Hey, his heart is obviously in the right place, even if his… actions are a bit questionable," Matt said. "I'm glad you've found friends who care enough to notice when you're off. And who will call me and make me laugh."
"Look, Sebastian blew this way out of proportion. Yeah, I've been having bad dreams lately, but it's nothing I can't handle."
"Then why have you started flinching every time I call you Blaine again?"
He froze. He hadn't even noticed, but looking back, he now realized that Matt had stopped addressing him by name around the same time that the dreams had restarted.
"So what's really going on?"
"I've… I've started remembering more. From when she took me, and a little bit from before, too." He pulled the journal out of his bag and handed it to Matt. "Is it okay if I say I don't want to talk about it?"
"For now? Sure. But eventually, we are going to have to tackle this, or at least how it's affecting you."
He nodded. "I know. But for now, you can read that."
At dinner that night, his parents seemed to tiptoe around him. They spoke in soft voices and seemed unsure how to interact with him, as if he had fully reverted. When he could take it no longer, he interrupted their conversation about weekend plans.
"So you know I had an emergency appointment with Matt today."
They both looked up at him in surprise.
"Honey, you don't have to tell us anything you don't want to. We're just glad that you're reaching out for help when you need it," Pam said.
"No, I think ... I mean, you guys deserve to know. I've, uh, I've been having bad dreams lately. Memories. Some of them, I know they're real. They're from when I was first with her. But some of them… I don't know. I don't know if I'm just trying to comfort myself after the bad ones and make good dreams or if it's real… but it's you guys. And Cooper. From before."
Pam and James were silent, shocked.
"And I know people don't retain a lot of memories from before they're four so it's probably all just made up by my brain, but… when I have those dreams, I don't want to wake back up. Because when I'm with my family, I feel safe."
His parents, in one synchronized movement, got up from their chairs to embrace him.
Blaine liked Matt. Really, he did. He seemed like a nice guy who had a thing for really non-threatening artwork, like oceanscapes and trees. But sometimes, it was all too much.
Ever since he had started remembering things he'd forgotten, a time before he'd been Peter, back to the first time he was Blaine, Matt had started poking more. And the more Matt poked, the more nightmares he had. He thought that once he started talking about them, they would go away. But they didn't. They got worse.
He didn't understand why. Sure, some of those early nights with Marilyn had been scary to a four-year-old kid, but the rest of the time with her had been fine. He didn't understand where all these monsters were coming from. All he knew was that he hated it.
"So, how has Warblers practice been going for you?" Matt asked.
Their sessions always started like this. Matt would ask some sort of innocuous question and Blaine would feel safe and comfortable and chatty and then - wham! - Matt would hit him with a Big Question that made him feel small and dumb.
"It's okay," Blaine said. "I mean, we're basically just singing the same three songs over and over in preparation for Sectionals."
"But do you like it?"
"Yeah," Blaine said. "It's fun. I used to do all the musicals at my school in Sacramento and community theatre, too. I forgot how much I like singing and dancing and goofing around."
"I'm glad that you've found somewhere where you feel so comfortable."
"I just... I feel like when I'm hanging out with the Warblers and singing, I'm just one of the guys. And even though it's been over a year since everything, I still feel like I don't fit in most of the time. It's nice to not be the kid who was taken, and just be one of the singers."
"Why don't you feel like you fit in?"
"It's not like I feel uncomfortable with my family. It's just... people still look at me and talk about me. And sometimes, I look at my mom and I forget that she's my mom."
"You know, I have a colleague who specializes in Music Therapy. She uses music to accomplish some of her treatment goals, a lot like the way we've been using DBT strategies. I know you've been having a tough go of it lately, and with how beneficial being a Warbler is, I think that this could be really good for you."
"No." The word was out of Blaine's mouth before he even realized he'd spoken. Both he and Matt looked a little shocked.
"No? Can you tell me why not?"
Blaine paused. It had been a gut reaction, but one he knew was true. He just wasn't sure if he could find the exact right words to say why. "It's just… I love music," he started. "I really love it. And I hate this. Not you, not therapy, exactly," he rushed to correct, "but what it makes me feel when I remember. And if I start using music to feel that and remember that… I don't want to hate music, too."
Matt gave Blaine a look that he couldn't quite translate. Perhaps a mix of sadness, and empathy, and maybe even pride, too? "Thank you for sharing that, Blaine. None of us would want to put you in a situation that made you uncomfortable. That was… very well said."
Blaine cleared his throat a little awkwardly. "Uh, thanks," he muttered, a little embarrassed. He didn't feel small or dumb at all. In fact, he felt stronger and better after telling Matt that.
The more he thought about it, the more true it became. At the Warblers, they sang about love, about friends, about having a good time. And that was why he loved it so much. Sure, they were light topics, but they were ones that made him feel safe. He'd always known love in some way, he'd almost always had Syd's friendship, and even if the nature of these had been poisoned by her, they were still things that he knew.
If he tried to sit at a piano and sing about how he truly felt when he thought about the shadows in his dreams, he might never sing again.
Blaine had been so consumed with the memories, with finding himself again, that Sectionals completely snuck up on him. One day, he was goofing around with his friends at Warbler's practice, and the next moment, Mr. Hoffman was reminding everyone that they only had one more rehearsal before the big competition.
He dropped the folder of sheet music he'd been holding, papers fluttering to the ground gently in direct contrast to the sudden, heavy drop in his stomach.
"What are you talking about? Sectionals are after Thanksgiving," he said.
"And Thanksgiving break starts now…" Sebastian said, giving him a strange look.
"What?!"
"Dude, have you even looked at a calendar in the last month?" Jeff said.
"You were talking about Thanksgiving plans with us at lunch!" Trent added.
"Yeah, but I didn't realize it was now. Shit. I don't know what to do with Jar-Jar."
If possible, the Jar-Jar comment earned him more concerned glances than forgetting Thanksgiving had.
"It's a weird family thing," he said off-handedly. He didn't feel close enough to any of his extended family members to feel comfortable passing on Jar-Jar. But he'd already held on too long, through Easter celebrations and his birthday get-together, so he really needed to do something or everyone would think he wanted Jar-Jar. Or that he was weirder than they already knew.
"Anyway," Mr. Hoffman said, trying to regain the attention of the group, "I'm letting you out early for the holiday, but that's with the expectation that you'll all practice your parts over the break. We have rehearsal as scheduled on Wednesday and I don't want to have to try to book an emergency rehearsal if you aren't prepared. Your schedules are already crazy enough."
The boys all began gathering their bags and coats. Blaine could feel his teacher's eyes on him, and wasn't surprised to hear his name called out once most of the other boys had vacated the room.
"Hey, Blaine, can I talk to you for a minute?"
"Sure." He adjusted his bag strap on his shoulder.
"How have you been doing? And before you tell me 'good,' I need to tell you that Cooper called me a while back and said you're going through something and asked for me to look out for you at school."
He wanted to be annoyed at his brother, but knew that it was only out of love that he'd reached out to his old friend. Plus, objectively speaking, he had been a bit of a zombie lately.
"It's nothing like last year," he assured his teacher, remembering his Thanksgiving freakout in stark clarity. "I've just been having dreams. Memories. It's kinda… I've just been a little consumed with all that lately."
"I know you have no shortage of people who care about you, but just know that my door is always open for you, too, if you need it."
"Thanks. I mean it."
Cooper's plane landed that evening. The Anderson family packed up their car and picked Cooper up at the airport on their way to Pittsburgh for Thanksgiving with Nana and Poppop Anderson. Blaine had them stop by a cousin's home on the way to pass on Jar-Jar as a Thanksgiving surprise.
Apparently last year's Thanksgiving celebration had been an anomaly for the family. Usually, they alternated between Thanksgiving in Westerville and Pittsburgh with only one side of the family at a time in smaller, more sedate affairs.
Blaine was looking forward to the holiday, if not just because it represented another step in the direction of normalcy. Mostly, though, he was looking forward to time off from school and away from home. Maybe a change in scenery would stop the dreams.
Plus, he had a lot of Sydney time to catch up on.
"Kid, ever since you got a social life in Ohio, you have been seriously neglecting me," Sydney said. Her face was grainy over the poor Skype connection, marred by dust on his computer screen, but he was still elated to see her. Spring break had been too long ago.
Syd still hadn't adjusted to calling him 'Blaine.' She occasionally referred to him as "B" only because it sounded a bit like 'Pete,' or so he guessed, but mostly stuck with 'kid.' He had a feeling that that nickname was going to follow him not just into adulthood, but into old age.
"Syd, you always manage to find the dark side in positive news," he shot back.
"It's my special talent," she preened. "So what's new in the life of the perfect prep-school boy?"
"Absolutely nothing. Gossip Girl has seriously skewed your expectations of what goes on in a private school."
"Just once, I'd love it if you would just take my emotions into account and would tell me that something salacious happened at school."
He laughed. "Well, a far greater percentage of teen dramas take place in public schools. Anything salacious happening back in Sacramento?"
Syd heaved a heavy sigh. "Ugh. No. Literally the only exciting thing happening is the prospect of getting out and going to college. Have you decided where you're applying yet?"
Blaine shook his head. "I have absolutely no idea. I mean, like, my parents just got me back, so am I, like, obligated to go to Ohio State or something? I'd never really planned to go anywhere outside of Cali because of in-state tuition and shit, so I have no clue. What about you? Maybe you'll inspire me?"
"Well, obviously I'm applying to UCLA, and maybe Cal State and Davis too. But I'm also thinking about Northwestern because Chicago seems so cool. But it's also super cold there. So I'm also applying to UT Austin because maybe I want to go south and I love how weird Austin seems. I don't even know what I want to study, though."
"Well, it sounds like we're in basically the same boat in terms of decisiveness then."
They spent some time updating each other on various aspects of their lives and promised to stay in better contact in the future.
Sectionals was hosted by William McKinley High School in nearby Lima. The New Directions, McKinley's team, were the reigning national champions, so the Warblers weren't necessarily optimistic about their chances, but they'd prepared as much as they could and knew they had a tight set.
As the seats in the auditorium filled with friends and family, Blaine and the Warblers stood with the other teams backstage. He'd performed in countless school and community theatre productions, but somehow this was making him more nervous than anything else. Perhaps it was because he was performing as Blaine, and not some character. Perhaps because when he had changed, his fearlessness had to be transferred to a different part of himself.
He saw a group of students outside of costume gathered in the wings and poked Nick, asking who they were.
"Oh, those are the New Directions who graduated last year. I guess being school alums and reigning national champs gives them backstage access."
"They don't look like… I don't know. They don't look like what I imagined show choir royalty to be," he said. Despite that, he was still a little intimidated, especially when he saw several of them looking at him and his teammates with a critical eye.
"Oh, they're a complete mess, apparently," Nick said. "I read all about them on a show choir message board and they have near-constant in-fighting and drama. But I guess it's basically the Fleetwood Mac effect. All that drama boils down to an amazing performance. I wonder what they're like without all their heavy-hitters. Maybe we've got a chance."
Blaine hoped that they did. He found his drive within him rearing and ready to go. He didn't want his show choir career to end so soon.
They performed first, and Blaine was filled with adrenaline as he and his friends ran off the stage. His solo had gone perfectly, not a note off or a step out of place. He had a gut feeling that they had this competition in the bag.
There was a brief intermission between each team's performance so that the other competitors could warm up. The New Directions alums were waiting in the wings and congratulated him and his classmates as they left. He was surprised at how gracious they were being. He imagined that if he were in their position, he'd be much cooler to the competition.
The rest of the competition was a huge sigh of relief. He could watch, with absolutely no worries, knowing he'd already done everything he could. It was heart-breaking to watch the New Directions' performance fall apart, but he couldn't help but also be happy, knowing that that meant his team was more likely to win.
When they were announced as the winners, he was elated. Blaine hugged his friends, even tolerated Sebastian's wandering hands and barely batted them away. They walked off the stage with a renewed energy, excited about the prospect of regionals.
"Hey," a voice said from Blaine's right. "Just wanted to say good job. You sounded really good out there."
Blaine turned and saw the face connected to the voice. This guy was cute. Not in the immediate, in-your-face way that Sebastian was, nor in the athletic way that Brian had been. This was more subtle beauty and soft smiles.
"Thanks," Blaine said, finding himself unable to keep eye contact with the boy.
"I'm Kurt," he said. "I, uh, I was on the New Directions last year, before I graduated."
"I know," he blurted out, blushing when he realized that made him sound stalker-ish. "I mean, my friend Nick told me that you guys were on the team. I'm Blaine."
"You guys deserved the win, even before Marley passed out," Kurt said.
"Uh, thanks. I'm sorry that happened. It must really suck for you guys to not have been able to jump in and help out."
"Yeah. I kinda thought all the New Directions drama graduated with Finn and Rachel, but I guess not. Anyway," he said, shaking his head as if to expel the thought, "I really just wanted to tell you that you were great. The Warblers are lucky to have found you."
He must have looked puzzled, because Kurt continued. "I just meant that I didn't recognize you from last year, so you must be new, but the program said that all the soloists were upperclassmen."
"Yeah, I was new last year and didn't feel prepared to audition until this year."
"Well, if you ever need any tips about show choir, newbie, I'd be happy to pass on my wisdom. Since the New Directions won't get any use out of it this year, someone should benefit."
Blaine's eyes lit up. "Yeah? That would be awesome. Can I - can I get your number? Maybe I could call you sometime and pick your brain over coffee?"
Kurt held out his hand for Blaine's phone. "I'm going back to New York tomorrow morning, but maybe over winter break?"
"Perfect," Blaine said. "It's a date."
Kurt had walked away before he could regret his word choice.
Blaine: Hey, it's Blaine Anderson. Just giving you my number.
Blaine: From the Warblers btw.
Kurt: Great to hear from you Blaine Warbler! I'm saving your number now.
Blaine: I just wanted to say thanks again for offering your wisdom. The only show choir person I know outside of my team is my brother. And his ego really doesn't need me asking him to relive his glory days, lol
Kurt: Ha! I'm happy to help. Just remember to thank me in your victory speech
Blaine: They make us give speeches?!
Blaine: I was not told I'd have to prepare for public speaking too
Kurt: Lol! Don't worry, I was kidding!
Kurt: Maybe your Tony's acceptance speech someday though
Blaine: I don't know if I'm Tony's material…
Kurt: With that voice? Grammys then. It'd be criminal if you weren't on stage somewhere.
Blaine found himself texting Kurt whenever he needed someone to talk to about nothing. All his friends were too clued-in to his tragic backstory and tried to read more into his moods. But Kurt… Kurt didn't know who he was, so when Blaine said he was tired but couldn't sleep, Kurt told him that he understood because sometimes his brain wouldn't shut off either.
It didn't take long for his parents to notice a change. He was on his phone more often than not, and would pull it out, grin, and hold himself higher. They didn't push the issue, simply glad that he was happy.
He'd been counting down days until Christmas break, almost from the moment that he'd started texting Kurt. As his mom began preparing for their Christmas Eve meal, her resolve to let him be finally cracked.
"Is there anyone you want to invite to dinner?" she asked, feigning a casual air.
He spoke through a mouthful of biscuit that she'd just pulled from the oven. "Um, I don't think Syd can really get here for Christmas Eve and be back in time to spend the holiday with her grandparents."
"I know, but anyone else? Maybe someone special?"
He rolled his eyes. "Is there anything that you want to ask me, mom?"
"I just noticed that you've been on your phone a lot lately. I thought maybe there was a … boy?"
"There isn't. Just a friend who is helping me with Warblers stuff."
"Oh," she said.
"It's not like that, mom. Don't say 'oh' like that!"
"Okay, okay. It's not like that. I understand."
"He's in college in New York. He's just a show choir mentor. It's nothing." Blaine was trying to convince his mom as much as himself.
"Whatever you say, honey," she said sweetly, kissing him on the top of his head and handing him another biscuit.
On the day after Christmas, Blaine met Kurt at a coffee shop halfway between Lima and Westerville. He had an annoying habit of being stupidly early to everything, except school, so he sat in the parking lot psyching himself up for nearly ten minutes before walking inside. He was still ten minutes early.
Blaine got his coffee which, like Sebastian had predicted nearly a year ago, was no longer mostly cream and sugar. He also picked up a few small treats, hoping that he and Kurt would be around long enough to get hungry and need the cookies.
The door barely had a chance to close fully the whole time he was waiting; this was apparently a very popular coffee shop. Or maybe everyone just needed an escape from family and a caffeine fix now that they were on the other side of Christmas and the cheer was fading.
He'd stopped staring at the door, feeling like he was watching a pot of water boil. Sure enough, once he'd shifted his attention to playing solitaire on his phone, he felt a presence above him at the other side of the table. When he looked up, Kurt was smiling down at him and pulling out the other chair, coffee in hand.
"Hey," he said, smiling widely. "Merry Christmas!"
"You too," Kurt responded. "I'm glad we were able to make this meet-up work."
Blaine could feel his cheeks heating up and took a too-large gulp of his coffee to try to hide his grin. "Me too," he said when he felt that he finally had himself under control.
They quickly fell into easy conversation, ostensibly about show choir, but in reality about nearly everything else. Kurt even gave Blaine tips on applying to college.
"I only applied to the one school, and when I didn't get in… I was devastated. So definitely, like, have a dream and everything, but maybe also have a backup plan. Like, I got so lucky with Vogue dot com and then a second-semester acceptance, but that was pure luck. When I moved out to New York, I had no plan."
"I don't even have a main plan, let alone a backup plan," Blaine admitted. "My brother went to school in California, and I kind of always assumed I'd go out there, too, but part of me feels like I owe it to my parents to stay close. And then another part of me thinks that I need to do something totally different, break away from all of them and everything."
Kurt nodded, a thoughtful look on his face. He didn't press for more elaboration about what Blaine wasn't saying, and he loved that.
"If you're looking to get away, throw yourself into a mess of people, and find out who you are, New York is a great place for that," he said. "But maybe I'm just biased. Also, I really don't think that someone as talented as you should stay in Ohio. Even if you don't pursue music, you're so much bigger than Westerville."
Blaine blushed again. "Do you think I could have a chance at NYADA like you?"
"Oh, definitely! You have an amazing voice, and you said you used to do school plays and community theatre, right? I bet you'd be a shoe-in."
"As someone who has only heard me sing once and has never seen me act, I appreciate your confidence in me."
Kurt laughed. "I have a sixth sense for unbelievably talented people. And anyway, it's not like New York has a shortage of colleges. There's also NYU and Columbia. I'm sure a Dalton boy could get into an Ivy League."
"I've only been a Dalton boy for a little over a year now," Blaine reminded Kurt. "I don't know if the prep school fairy godmother has had its time to completely transform me just yet." Even so, Blaine already started preparing mental lists of colleges in New York and planned to research them all thoroughly as soon as he got home.
They parted after their second coffees had grown cold and the plate of treats Blaine bought had been reduced to mere crumbs. Blaine found some brave part inside of him growing brighter and larger and actually initiated the good-bye hug before they parted ways at their cars.
"Keep in touch," Kurt said.
"I will."