8
Kurt was able to find a spot to parallel park by Goodale Park near downtown Columbus, right in front of the elephant fountain.
Blaine had always admired that fountain on his trips into the city, and he thought it looked especially beautiful in the winter when the pond around it was frozen and the fountain itself looked like it was stopped in time, icicles making it seem like the spouting water was on pause.
He smiled at the frozen elephants and then turned to Kurt, who, as it turned out, was smiling at Blaine. Blaine felt himself blush a bit.
"You like it?" asked Kurt, nodding toward the lit-up, motionless fountain.
"Yeah. I love that fountain. The elephants look so happy. And the ice makes it seem like someone just hit the pause button on it. Like they're frozen in that happy moment forever."
Kurt shot Blaine a quizzical expression, raising one eyebrow and dawning an intrigued smile.
"What?" Blaine asked nervously, afraid he has just weirded the other boy out beyond help.
Kurt's grin grew and he just shook his head. "Nothing," he said, "that just seems like a pretty profound thought about a fountain."
Blaine shrugged. "Don't you ever wish you could just stop time? Or at least just slow everything down so you can appreciate it a little longer?"
Kurt let out a quiet, breathy laugh. "You're something else, Blaine Anderson."
The blush on Blaine's cheeks darkened. "Is that a bad thing?"
"Not at all. It's… it's refreshing. I've never met anyone our age else who thinks like you do. I mean, the things you say sometimes. It's like you're so much older than seventeen. Well, wiser, anyway."
Blaine laughed shortly at that. "I don't know about that. Wise people wouldn't usually get knocked up at fifteen."
Kurt shrugged. "Who's to say?"
The two boys stared at each other for a silent moment. Blaine wasn't sure how to respond. Was Kurt really giving him enough credit to think he'd changed that much from the naïve, overly trusting kid he'd been two years ago? Because he was positive that if Kurt had known him then, wise would never be a word he'd use to describe him.
"Anyway," Kurt said, breaking his eyes away from Blaine's and ending the silence that had filled the car. "I don't think I've had too many moments in my life that I wish I could stay in for longer than I need to."
Blaine scrunched his eyebrows skeptically. "Really? There's not a time you wish you could have paused and held on to?"
The other boy looked lost in thought for just a moment before responding. "I guess maybe when my mom was alive."
Blaine put on a sad smile.
"But I think it's the fact that we don't get to stay in those moments that makes us appreciate them. Makes us learn from them." He gave Blaine a knowing smirk.
Blaine conceded with a nod, thinking that Kurt was pretty wise himself.
"Speaking of which," Kurt said, looking down at his watch, "We're running a little late. We'd better get going."
Blaine nodded at that and unbuckled his seatbelt. Both boys got out of the car and stepped up onto the sidewalk. They started walking toward the well-lit, relatively crowded stretch of High Street known as the Short North, which Blaine knew was filled with specialty shops, galleries, and restaurants. It was also known as one of the gay-friendliest neighborhoods in all of the United States. He smiled to himself when he noticed several rainbow flags displayed proudly in windows and flagpoles amongst the twinkling lights and general bustle of nightlife in the district. A satisfied warmth filled his chest at the sight. He felt safe and accepted amongst the flags, and it gave him a sense of reassurance that he didn't have to hide or fear judgment here.
His thoughts drifted to Kurt's story about his homophobic bully and he glanced over at the taller boy walking by his side. Another swell of pride and admiration filled him up when he saw how Kurt held his head high, beautiful eyes fixed forward like he had no reason to look back, to look anywhere but at what was ahead of him.
Before he could think better of it, Blaine reached out and linked his arm through his date's. He chalked the action up to being the result of the culmination of all the pride he was feeling, and probably just how damned good-looking Kurt was.
Much to Blaine's relief, Kurt didn't pull away or even stiffen at the action. The taller teen simply crooked his arm more, securing Blaine's where it was.
Blaine beamed and huddled a little closer as they walked. He got up on his tiptoes a bit get his mouth closer to Kurt's ear before he spoke. "Can you tell me where we're going now?" he asked. He trained his eyes on Kurt's face, trying his best to put on his infamous puppy dog eyes.
Kurt did a double take at Blaine, clearly affected by the adorable expression. However, much to Blaine's chagrin, he held strong against the power of the wide, pleading hazel eyes.
"Patience is a virtue, Blaine," he replied coolly.
Blaine put on a pout face, although he felt like doing anything but pouting at that moment. He really couldn't believe he was walking with a supremely hot guy holding onto his arm and acting proud to show him off. It was a feeling he was sure he would never feel again after having his baby, yet, there it was.
The couple walked two more blocks before Kurt abruptly stopped them in front of an old, but well-kept classical-looking theater.
"Here we are," he stated with a coy smile.
Blaine blinked a few times at the view before him. The place was absolutely crawling with strange characters: people dressed in black and red, in fishnets and corsets with outrageous amounts of makeup. And not just women, but men too. For a moment, Blaine had no idea what to make of this place. Had Kurt brought him to some sort of brothel? What on earth had he gotten himself into? But then he saw the poster stuck up in the window of the ticket office, and it all clicked.
His mouth dropped open and he gaped up at Kurt. "The Rocky Horror Picture Show?"
Kurt beamed back at his shocked expression and nodded.
"We're seriously seeing Rocky Horror?! I've been dying to see it done live for years," Blaine gushed, gripping Kurt's arm a bit tighter in excitement.
The taller boy just chuckled. "Good. I was hoping you'd like it."
"Like it? Rocky Horror is a classic! I was in show choir for two years. Of course I like it!"
He laughed his musical laugh once more. "Looks like I won't have to reevaluate your taste level after all."
"How did you get tickets to this on such short notice?" Blaine asked.
Kurt's just shrugged. "Let's just say I've got some good connections within this particular show."
Blaine narrowed his eyes.
The coy half-smile grew on Kurt's face. "C'mon. We're still running a little late."
Then Kurt released his arm only to clasp onto Blaine's hand and start pulling him toward the side of the building, away from the line of people waiting to get in.
Blaine opened his mouth to speak, to ask Kurt why he was dragging them away from the spectator entrance, when they suddenly halted in front of the side door to the theater. Kurt knocked and Blaine stared, confused.
A surly-looking young man with a clipboard and a headset quickly answered. A look of what could only have been pure relief came over his face when he saw Kurt and Blaine.
"There you are, Kurt!" he exclaimed. "Oh, thank God!"
"Relax, Brandon," came Kurt's calm reply. "I'm here. The world will keep turning," he added in a teasing tone. The he gestured to his date "This is Blaine. He's with me. The one I told you about."
The man's eyebrows rose with intrigue. "Well then…" He smirked at Blaine and then stepped aside to let them through the door. "I hope you enjoy the show."
Blaine was forced out of the gawking stare he'd fallen into when he felt a tug on his hand again.
"Thanks," he said confusedly to the man as they went through the door.
Then they were inside the theater, backstage. There was activity everywhere. People and glitter and painted faces and props seemed to fill every inch of space. It was more corsets, tulle, and eyeliner than Blaine thought he'd ever see concentrated in one area in his life. Assistants weaved to and fro in every direction behind the closed curtain. Voices called out and filled the air in a cacophony of stage directions, voice warming exercises, and laugher amongst other sounds.
Blaine beamed at his surroundings. "Just how good are these connections you have?" Blaine called out over the noise. He could tell his astonishment was clear in his voice. He never expected that Kurt would have something quite this great up his sleeve for their date. Especially on such relatively short notice. "How do you know that security guy at the door?"
"Um, well…" Kurt began as he led they way down a crowded narrow hallway, away from the stage.
"Break a leg tonight, Kurt!" a girl dressed in only a lacey bra and panties said as they passed her.
"Thanks, Vicky," Kurt replied with a polite smile.
Blaine's mouth dropped open as the revelation finally hit him. He stopped in his tracks, forcing Kurt to stop too and turn to face him.
"What?" Kurt asked, feigning innocence.
"Kurt. Are you serious?"
"Whatever do you mean?"
The shorter boy narrowed his eyes. "Break a leg? You're in the show?!"
Kurt smiled sheepishly. "Oh, that. You caught me."
Blaine just stared back in awe, his expression causing Kurt to laugh out loud.
"Remember when I told you I was involved with that theatre troupe?"
"Yeah," Blaine replied, recalling Kurt's mention of that on their coffee date. "I thought you meant like a low-key high school group or something. This is like, a legitimate production!" he exclaimed, motioning to the scene around them.
Kurt laughed his musical laugh once more at Blaine's surprise. "Well, it's college and high school kids. I was just an understudy," he started to explain. Then he tugged lightly on Blaine's hand once again and steered them toward a door with a star on it, clearly a dressing room. "But then Trevor broke his foot, so I'm going on tonight. It's our last show of the season."
He motioned to the dressing room door behind him.
"I'm afraid this is where I have to leave you," he said. "I have to get changed and all. But you'll see me on stage." He put on that smoldering half smile again.
"Okay," Blaine replied breathlessly.
"I have the best seat in the house reserved for you," Kurt explained. "You'll be hanging with one of my friends from Lima. She'll be nice, I promise."
Blaine nodded his understanding, but he suddenly felt a bit nervous. He hadn't expected to meet any of Kurt's friends tonight. He hadn't prepared for that. And it seemed like Kurt took his friendships very seriously. What if this friend didn't approve of him? What if he made a total fool of himself and she told Kurt to ditch the loser teen dad?
He took a deep breath before replying with another ever-so-dapper "Sounds great."
"Puck will take you your seat."
"Puck?"
Kurt laughed. "Yeah. He was in New Directions with me and he's the stage manager for the show."
Then Blaine saw the taller boy's blue eyes focus on something behind him.
"Speak of the devil. Here he is," Kurt said with a smile.
He turned to see who Kurt was looking at. He gulped at the sight of the hulking mohawked teen with a headset coming toward them.
"Hummel!" Puck exclaimed, grabbing Kurt by the shoulders and giving him a shake.
"Hello, Noah," Kurt said with a good-natured roll of his eyes.
"You actually made it! Got away from the fancy new preppies for a night, eh?"
"Um, yeah. I guess. But students are allowed to leave on weekends, you know," he explained as he re-straightened his coat collar.
Puck looked over to Blaine. "I see that." He looked Blaine up and down, the scrutiny clear on his face. "Looks like one followed you."
"Oh, Noah, this is Blaine Anderson. Blaine, this is Noah Puckerman."
Blaine extended his hand for a handshake. "Nice to meet you, Noah."
"Puck," the other boy stated. He gripped Blaine's offered hand tightly.
"Everyone calls me Puck, except for Hummel here."
Blaine did his best not to grimace at the firm grip. "Oh, okay, Puck."
"I have to start getting my makeup on," Kurt interjected, glancing at his watch. "You should find your seat," he added with a knowing smile at Blaine. And then to Blaine's surprise, he reached out and grasped his hand. "I'll see you after the show." He squeezed, and Blaine's heartbeat raced.
They stared at each other for a moment longer and Puck made a scoffing sound, but Blaine was too enthralled in Kurt to care.
Kurt let go of Blaine's hand and turned to enter the dressing room.
"Break a leg!" Blaine found himself saying before he even thought about it.
He got a beautiful blue-eyed wink in response. Then Kurt disappeared behind the door.
"Alright, c'mon, Prep School," Puck said and started walking quickly down the hallway. "Keep up!" he added over his shoulder.
Blaine followed him through the winding, cacophonous corridor until they found themselves walking right out onto the dark stage behind the closed curtain. He took a moment to silently revel at the fact that he was suddenly onstage of a professional production (albeit behind a closed curtain), a place he'd pretty much resigned to believe he'd never be. In that moment, he felt that even if the rest of the night went completely terribly, he'd have to admit that that was pretty freaking cool.
Blaine assumed he would be led out to the auditorium and shown his seat, but to his surprise, Puck motioned him over to a ladder on the far side of the stage instead.
Puck tapped the ladder's metal rung twice. "Up you go!" he urged with an amused grin.
Blaine just stood there, bewildered. He looked up to see that the ladder led to some narrow metal scaffolding above the stage—probably meant for access to lighting. When he glanced back at Puck, he was smirking.
"You're joking, right?" Blaine asked.
"Not at all," the tall teen said. "Kurt's request."
"People actually sit up there? That's allowed?"
Puck shrugged. "Well, it's not typically allowed, no." He stepped closer and lowered his voice. "But I have it on good authority that the stage manager is pretty chill." He smiled.
Blaine gave him a nervous nod. He'd never been much of rule-breaker, if you discounted all the dumb stuff he'd gotten himself into time and again with Sebastian when they were together. If he was honest, the idea of climbing a restricted-access ladder to a clandestine, above-stage seating location was pretty far out of his comfort zone these days. But, he supposed, if the appointed stage manager said it was fine (even if he did look like a delinquent) and Kurt had said it was the best seat in the house, who was he to argue?
"Okay," he said shakily, and gingerly stepped up onto the ladder.
Eleven rungs later, he reached the top and sat down on the edge of the scaffolding. A quick glance down told him he was higher up than he'd anticipated from the ground. It was pretty intimidating, but he wasn't about to turn tail back down the ladder and subject himself to Puck's ridicule—or worse, failing to impress Kurt. He took a deep breath and turned to scoot closer to the middle of the stage and stopped, breath catching in his throat. He wasn't alone up there. About twenty feet away above stage-center, sitting with tight-clad legs dangling over the edge of the scaffolding, was a girl. She was backlit with a red stage light, imbuing her with a coarse, rebellious radiance that didn't feel at all out of place up there above all the action.
She turned to look at him, no trace of a smile forthcoming. The girl just stared for a moment, silently appraising him. Blaine took the opportunity to notice just how beautiful the blonde girl and was, and he became immediately impressed with just how elegant she seemed. Totally refined and self-confident looking with a sort of hard edge. It was like she radiated an inner strength. Blaine definitely got the impression that behind the graceful beauty, this girl could take care of herself. He admired her already.
And she seemed so strangely familiar…
"Uh, hi," Blaine found himself saying. "I didn't know anyone else was sitting up here."
The girl exhaled slowly, as if letting out a long drag off a cigarette. Her red lips curled into a smirk. "Well, surprise," she replied coolly. "You're Kurt's date?"
"Yeah," he said, and started to scoot closer to the girl. "I'm Blaine Anderson."
She nodded as Blaine settled himself next to her on the scaffolding. They were seated almost exactly over the center of the stage.
"Quinn." She extended her hand for him to shake and he accepted. "I go to McKinley. Used to do Glee with Kurt."
As he listened to her speak, he tried to remember where he'd encountered those indomitable green eyes before. And then he remembered—almost. He recognized this girl from somewhere. But where was it? Where had he even gone that he would have run into kids from Lima?
"So," she continued. "You met Kurt at Dalton."
"That's right. At a party. I used to go there but I'm homeschooled now," Blaine explained.
Quinn raised an eyebrow. "Really? Well, that's boring. New subject: what's with the weird bowtie?" she asked with an amused look.
"Oh." Blaine gulped. This was it: the moment of truth. He'd worn the cat tie as a badge of pride for his son, and he would be damned if he lied again about him. If Kurt didn't want his friends to know he was dating a guy with a kid, well then that would be something they'd have to work out later. Because Blaine was not hiding Ollie again. It had almost ruined everything the last time.
"My son picked it out," Blaine stated plainly. His voice was steady and unwavering. It was exactly as it should have sounded two weeks ago in Kurt's dorm room. And even if this totally ruined any chance he had of Kurt's friends liking him, he was proud.
Out of learned habit, he expected a gasp and look of shock and horror. Even judgmental a glare or remark. But none of that came. In fact, Quinn's face lit up in what he could only assume was recognition, by the way she was studying his face. She must think I'm familiar too.
"You have a son?" she asked.
"Yeah. Oliver. Eighteen months old," Blaine replied with sustained confidence.
"That's the same age as our daughter," she said. "Mine and Puck's."
Blaine opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out. They had a baby too?
He looked back at Quinn's face. She was still looking at him too. And in that moment, like a bolt of lightning, it hit him. He remembered where he'd seen her before.
It was in the hospital on that hot August day, eighteen months before. It was just a few hours after Ollie had come literally kicking and screaming into the world. The doctors had finished looking Blaine over and had taken his tiny baby to the nursery. Blaine had fallen asleep pretty much immediately after they'd plucked the newborn from his arms. He was so incredibly exhausted from the marathon labor that even the monumental happiness he felt could not keep him awake at that point.
By the time he woke up, it was already nighttime and his private hospital room was dark. He looked to his left to find his mother asleep on the sofa next to his bed. A smile quirked onto his lips, glad that she was still there. Blaine was so grateful for his mother's support throughout his labor. He didn't know what he would have done without her.
He briefly wondered where Sebastian had gone, but then he quickly recalled screaming at his fiancé all day, telling him how much he hated him for putting him there, telling him how he wished he would leave.
Blaine pressed his eyes closed and groaned in the dark room. He knew the words he's spat at Sebastian must have hurt, but behind all the yelling and swearing, Blaine had secretly hoped Sebastian would still find it in his heart to stay. To stay with Blaine because he loved him. But he left.
He sighed quietly, deciding to push the confused guilt from his mind. He knew he would have plenty of time—presumably the rest of his life—to figure out his rollercoaster of a relationship with Sebastian. For now, he needed to refocus because, as of eight hours ago, he had new priorities.
Blaine brought his hands to rest over his now deflated abdomen. He ran a hand slowly over his oddly flat body and almost laughed at the fact that it now felt strange not to be a giant balloon, and how strange it was that his baby wasn't safely nestled beneath his heart anymore.
He managed to lie still in the hospital bed for about another ten minutes before he couldn't take it anymore and he had to see his baby. It was like an itch he couldn't scratch and it become clear it wasn't going away. He had to be sure he was okay and he had to see that beautiful face again with his own two eyes.
So, being careful not to pull, push, twist, or bend any part of him that still felt tender (which was just about everywhere), and trying hard not make a sound that would wake his mother, Blaine slowly managed to get himself up to a standing position. He wasn't even sure he was supposed to be trying to walk this soon, but he didn't care. He managed to waddle over to the wheelchair by his door and then began the task of wheeling himself down the hallway of the neonatal ward. He winced in pain as he went, but he didn't let it stop him. He had to get to Oliver. A little discomfort was nothing at this point.
After a rather rough, surprisingly tiring-for-how-short-it-was trip through the hall, Blaine finally reached the large viewing window of the neonatal nursery. He let out a sigh of relief and rested his tired arms back over his deflated stomach.
Then his eyes immediately locked on the tiny blue bundle in the last crib of the first row of the nursery. The recognition was immediate. He already felt like he'd know the scrunched little face anywhere.
His gut feeling was confirmed when he saw the card clipped to the crib. 'Boy Smythe, 08/25/2011' was printed clearly above the slumbering baby's head.
Blaine didn't know how long he sat there and looked. He looked at the way his son's perfect, pink little hand was curled up under his sleeping face and how one perfect little black curl stuck out from beneath his blue beanie. He sat in awe of how much he already loved this little boy. He loved him with every last strained, exhausted, and terrified fiber of his being.
Nothing broke his concentration on studying his baby's every feature until a shadow fell across the crib, and he was suddenly aware of a presence next to him.
Blaine glanced to his right to see a pretty blonde girl staring into the nursery. Her gaze on the crib next to Oliver's seemed just as intense as Blaine's had been, and he immediately knew that she too must be a new parent. He took a moment to silently marvel at how young she looked. There was no way, he figured, that she could have very much older than him. But, unlike Blaine, her intense stare seemed troubled rather than amazed. Her eyes were filled not with pride, but rather with something that looked more like pure agony.
Then her green eyes snapped over to Blaine. He noticed then that it looked like she had been crying. She looked him up and down once questioningly, the anguish never leaving her expression.
"Couldn't stay away either, huh?" he managed to ask in a reasonably chipper tone, despite the girl's obvious bad mood.
Her guarded demeanor seemed to crack for a moment. She blinked and turned back toward the nursery window.
"Which one is yours?" Blaine prodded, hoping that he could maybe get the new mother to cheer up a little bit. He couldn't believe that she wouldn't be feeling at least an inkling of the joy he saw when he looked at his baby.
"'Girl Corcoran,'" she replied in a soft voice, indicating the crib right next to Oliver's. And sure enough, the nameplate indicated 'Girl Corcoran 8/24/2011.'
Blaine looked down into the crib to see a sleeping baby girl, swaddled entirely in pink and sucking on her thumb. Her beanie had come almost entirely off her head, revealing a full head of wispy blonde hair.
"Their birthdays are only a day apart," he said enthusiastically. "Mine's 'Boy Smythe' here," he said with a nod toward Ollie.
The girl didn't reply. She just kept looking at her own baby.
"She's beautiful," Blaine added. And he meant it. That baby already looked like it should be in commercials or something.
Finally, a tiny smile curled onto the girl's lips. "Thanks," she said.
A silent minute passed and Blaine thought the short conversation was over. But then the girl suddenly spoke up again, and Blaine looked back over to find her eyes on his baby's crib. "What did you name yours?" she asked.
Blaine felt himself beam, already embracing the soccer-parent pride he felt at being able to point out his own child. "Oliver. But I think I'll call him Ollie."
She nodded. "He's cute."
"He's perfect," Blaine muttered without a thought, more to himself than to the girl. "What did you name her?" Blaine then asked, trying to keep the conversation going. It was actually pretty thrilling to be talking to another young parent. He felt like he and this girl already shared so much in common based on that alone. Even if she was acting less enthusiastic than he was.
Her eyes darted to him and narrowed, suddenly looking venomous. "I didn't name her," she said slowly, pointedly.
"Oh," Blaine replied, feeling started by her defensiveness. "Um, is her dad picking the name?" he guessed.
"No," came the bitter response. "Her mother is."
Blaine felt his eyes widen at the unexpected reply. "I… but… what?"
"Miss?" a voice said from behind them.
Blaine turned to see Gina, one of the nurses on the floor, looking expectantly at the blonde girl.
"We've got all the adoption papers drawn up and ready for you," Gina added.
Blaine's heart dropped. Now it all made sense. While Blaine had come out here to say hello to his child, to welcome him with open arms into his life, this girl had come to say goodbye to hers.
"Okay," said the blonde. "I'll be right there. Just give me one more minute?"
Blaine noticed her eyes gleaming with fresh tears. He realized that he couldn't even imagine, with his heart feeling so full and content at the sight of his child, how incredibly devastated the same sight must be making her feel.
Gina spoke again to the girl. "Just one more minute."
Then she looked over at Blaine. "And Blaine," she said, approaching his wheelchair. "You really shouldn't be out of bed just yet," she added in a stern, but kind tone. "Even in the chair."
Blaine forced a smile at the kind nurse. "Sorry, Gina. Couldn't stay away."
She smirked. "I understand. You're just lucky you're so darn cute that you've got the whole staff wrapped around your finger."
Blaine blushed. "I've got nothing on him," he said, gesturing toward Oliver behind the window.
Gina laughed and shook her head as she leaned down to unlock the brake on Blaine's chair. "For now, you need to rest. I'll bring him to your room in a few hours and show you a few things about how to take care of him, alright?"
She started to turn the chair away from the window.
Blaine turned back to the sad girl. She was staring once again at the beautiful pink-clad baby.
"Just one more minute," Gina said to her again. "I really wouldn't recommend looking too much more, Sweetheart," she added sympathetically.
She glanced at Blaine and Gina, and Blaine felt like his heart could break with all the sadness he saw in her eyes. He knew then, just hours after becoming a parent, that losing a child had to be the worst pain anyone could suffer.
"I… um," he said quietly to the girl before he could stop himself.
The sad eyes snapped to him.
"Good luck with everything," he managed to say, holding her gaze. "I mean it."
The hopelessness in her expression seemed to soften a bit. And to Blaine's surprise, the corners of her mouth actually turned up into a tiny smile. She didn't reply with words, but her miniscule smile communicated all the thanks and understanding in the world.
"You're the girl from the hospital!" Blaine exclaimed.
Quinn was beaming now as the recognition washed over her too. "Yeah! Babies had birthdays one day apart, right?"
"Yes!" Blaine exclaimed, happy that Quinn remembered him now as surely as he remembered her. "Wow, what are the chances?" he mused aloud.
"I know, right?" Quinn kept smiling, but her eyes darted quickly to the floor below. There was just a hint of the trepidation there that Blaine saw eighteen months ago. "So, you kept yours?" she asked.
Blaine nodded. "Yeah. It's been hard, but he's my world."
"I get what you mean. I mean, we did an open adoption, so we don't get to see Beth every day or anything, but she's still the most important thing on Earth."
"Totally," Blaine said.
Truth be told, this whole situation was a little overwhelming for him. In a good way though, he hoped. Blaine had never met another teenage parent before. He'd seen a few come and go during his volunteer time in the neonatal ward at the hospital, but he'd never actually gotten the chance to speak to any. But he always thought that if he could, he would have so much to talk about with them. There were so many things that only a teen parent would go through to ask about and discuss and potentially bond over. He'd always thought that if he'd had a chance to meet any, other teen parents might end up being his closest friends.
"So, you and Puck still see her, then?" Blaine asked carefully.
Quinn nodded. "Shelby has us babysit a lot, actually. Once a month or so. And sometimes she'll let us take Beth for little daytrips."
"That's awesome!"
"Yeah. She lives here in Columbus, so it's not too far away. And that's why I gave birth here instead of Lima."
Blaine nodded his understanding and looked down at his dangling feet. He saw Puck moving down below, waving his hand around and talking emphatically into his headset. "And you and Puck are still together?" Blaine asked.
She shook her head with an amused look. "We're on and off. Right now, we're off. I just came to the show because we're seeing Beth tomorrow so I'm staying at his place tonight. Easier than driving down in the morning."
Blaine scrunched his forehead in confusion.
"He graduated last year. He has an apartment here in Columbus now," she explained.
"Gotcha."
"Seeing as you're here with Kurt, I take it you and your baby daddy are 'off,' too?" She shot him a curious look.
Blaine shook his head. "We've been 'off' since about two months after Ollie was born. It just became painfully obvious that we weren't meant to be anything more than high school sweethearts, even though he still wants to get back together." He raised a hand and rubbed the back of his neck. He wasn't really sure why he felt comfortable sharing this much with Quinn, but it just felt right. Like he knew she would understand more than most. "Can I let you in on a secret, though?"
Quinn just raised her perfectly styled eyebrows in intrigue.
"I really like Kurt."
Quinn burst out laughing. "Well, I'm glad to hear that. After the year he's had, Kurt deserves something good in his life."
"You think I could be something good?"
"I like you so far, Anderson. And if I know anything about Kurt, it's that he doesn't tolerate assholes in his life, so that says a lot. As long as you treat him right, you're good in my book."
Blaine smiled again. "Thanks."
There was a beat of silence before Blaine spoke again.
"You know, I'm really glad I met you. Met you again, that is. Officially."
She returned the grin. "Me too. Makes me think, though."
"Think what?"
"That Kurt planned this."
A now familiar warmth rose in Blaine's chest. Knowing how kind, understanding and perceptive Kurt has been so far, it wouldn't surprise him one bit that he would orchestrate a meeting for Blaine with someone he knew would get him. That seemed just like the kind of thoughtful thing Kurt Hummel would do.
"You know? I bet he did," Blaine said.
Then the shuffling on the stage below ceased and the lights went low. The show was about to start.