The rest of Kurt's day was not really any better than the beginning. It was a day of constant bullying, and by the time the final bell rang, he was ready to go home, take a soothing bath, and have a good cry.

And, he did just that. When he walked in the door, he wasted no time in drawing a nice bath in the soaking tub his father had installed for him on his last birthday. He threw in a lavender bath bomb, popped on the Moulin Rouge soundtrack, and lay back in the tub. He could feel some of the stress beginning to leave his body, and he thought to himself, That crazy counselor was wrong. He didn't need some club or more friends or a chat website to help him. He could cope just fine on his own.

After his bath, he put on some comfortable clothes and sat down at his sewing machine to work on his latest piece. It was something he wanted to wear for a number he planned to record and put on MySpace. As a bit of an afterthought, Kurt brought his laptop over to his sewing desk and put in an old musical after shutting off his music. There. That would make for a perfect afternoon until he needed to make dinner.

About 20 minutes before he thought he would start dinner prep, however, Kurt heard the screen door in the kitchen snap shut. A few moments later, he heard the door at the top of the stairs open, and his father's heavy footfalls made their way down. Quickly, he leaned over and tapped the space bar to pause the movie. His dad always commented on this choice of entertainment, but maybe if it wasn't playing, he wouldn't notice. Trying not to feel nervous, he went back to his project as he listened to the footsteps come to a stop at the bottom of the stairs.

"Kurt?" came his father's rough voice.

"Yeah, Dad?'

"What are you working on?"

"A—a project. For a project I want to do."

"For school?"

"No. No, just for me."

"Oh." There was a long pause. Then, "I got a call from the counselor today. She thinks you're depressed or something."

At that, Kurt stopped the sewing machine, turning to make eye contact with his dad. "What? I'm not depressed."

"She said you were looking at some suicide brochure at school today."

"I—I was. But, Dad, I'm not suicidal. I was just...looking."

"That's not a very solid excuse, kid."

"I'm fine, Dad. She's...she's just overreacting." He had been right to feel nervous. This was terrible!

"Look, Kurt, I don't want to talk about this any more than you do."

"Okay? You do your thing; I'll do mine."

"But you're all alone down here most of the time. You don't have any friends."

"You don't understand. School is...very complicated for me." Kurt didn't think his dad would ever understand that, honestly. There were a lot of things about him his dad would never understand.

Burt ran a hand across the back of his neck. "I was a teenager; I get the pressure. Making friends. That's why I joined the football team."

"You want me to join the football team?"

"Look, I'm not asking here, Kurt. This is an order. By the end of this week, I want you on a team, or I'm taking away the sewing machine."

Kurt opened his mouth to protest, but Burt was already headed back up the stairs.

"You can get started on dinner in about half an hour. I'm going to take a shower."

Kurt sighed, turning back to his laptop. His finger hovered over the space bar. He didn't really feel like watching his movie any more. He didn't really feel like doing anything. He just wanted to go to bed and not think about joining a club where everyone was going to make fun of him or ignore him and nothing would change.

Reluctantly, he put his sewing project away and switched off the movie. He was about to turn off his laptop completely, but he noticed the postcard sticking out of the top of his backpack. Quickly, he grabbed it and typed in the web address for the school chat room that was written on the card.

He couldn't think too much about it. If he did, he was going to chicken out. Quickly, he typed in the login information, and a new screen popped up, prompting him to choose his username from the list below or to create a new one. He thought for a moment. What could he call himself that wouldn't be a dead giveaway to any bully that might happen to end up on the site? He glanced around his room, hoping something would inspire him.

His eyes landed on a notebook that he kept back by his bed. It was the one he wrote in at night before going to bed. His latest project was a play about Pippa Middleton that he had fondly titled Pip Pip Hooray. He wasn't very far with it, but he was in love with his idea; just looking at the notebook made him smile.

Quickly, he typed .Hooray! into the box. Then, he typed in his go-to password and clicked Submit. Instantly, the page changed, showing a long list of posts and their comments. At the top, the page said, "Welcome, .Hooray!"

Kurt scrolled through the list of posts, noting a few of the titles dealt with gay bullying. There were several comments on these posts, and the top comment showed up underneath each post. Many of the comments were full of encouragement and words of support. It was all very sweet. Maybe too sweet. Looking at the comments was making him feel ill. Hurriedly, he logged out and scurried up the stairs to start dinner, ready to get the chat website off of his mind. He wasn't really sure why he'd even gotten on in the first place. He was making it okay on his own, and now, he had to join a club. Great.