Monday morning was a blur. Per usual, Blaine had a rough time in stage combat class first thing, continuing his legacy of requiring the most first aid of any student this semester. Two Band-Aids later, he had to spend most of his lunch cramming for his theatre history quiz. Kurt helped by challenging him with flash cards but it wasn't exactly romantic relax time. He was glad for it in the end, because a lot of what he'd studied showed up on the quiz and he was pretty sure he wouldn't have been so confident of his answers without the extra cram session.

When the class was over he headed over to Acting for the Camera upstairs with Kurt.

"How's your wrist?" Kurt asked.

Blaine sighed. "It's fine, I'd just like to get through one week of classes without bleeding though. I can't believe how bad I am at stage combat."

"You'll get better," Kurt dismissed. "The sword sequence today was tricky—could have happened to anyone."

Blaine made a face, muttering, "Yet somehow it always happens to me."

Kurt conceded the point and tried to change the subject. "Think you did okay on your quiz today?" he asked.

"I think so. I mean, I'm sure I passed, and the multiple choice section was pretty easy. The essay questions were a bit tougher so I could have lost a few points there, but no big surprises at least."

"Well you should be proud of yourself then. Pretty sure that's the first time you've described any part of those quizzes 'easy,'" Kurt encouraged.

"Heh, well I guess that's true," Blaine smiled.

When Blaine started at NYADA he'd been somewhat prepared for the challenges of singing classes and tap dance lessons, but the rigor of reading three plays a week and memorizing complex details about ancient Greek theatre caught him off guard. While Dalton had always had a lot of homework, the expectations his past two years at McKinley had been a lot lower, and this was definitely a lot more reading than he'd ever been expected to absorb and be tested on than ever before. His first few grades that semester had been rather humbling. Kurt pushed him to keep at it and not get discouraged, knowing that slipping grades would probably make Blaine even more vulnerable to depression and despondency than he already was. Now anytime there was a major test coming up he made sure to be on Blaine more to stay off his phone and hit the books. Mostly Blaine appreciated the nudging, knowing his grades responded well to it.

As Blaine and Kurt headed into their Acting for the Camera class, Blaine remembered how Kurt had said he wanted to apologize to Amy about missing her class. He hoped Kurt would just forget about that, or at least if he did say something Amy would just shrug and say it was no big deal. If she really taught twelve classes a week it was unlikely she'd even remember who showed up and who didn't on any given week, right? I'm getting nervous about nothing.

Turned out Blaine didn't have anything to worry about: Amy wasn't even in class when he got there. Must be out sick, I guess? For once I got lucky. His attention was quickly diverted by the professor's lecture on camera angles, which he tried to take good notes on. Somehow he felt pressure to be perfect in the classes he didn't completely suck at.

By the time school was over for the day, Blaine was pretty tired, but looking forward to Monday night dinner. When he and Kurt got to the loft Rachel laid in on ordering them about as she had been planning an extensive entrée that somehow required them to do most of the work.

"You couldn't have started any of this before we got home?" Kurt groused. "You've been home all day!"

"I did get started! I had the groceries delivered and then I copied down the recipe online," Rachel defended.

Kurt shook his head. "Seriously, Rachel? That's not what I-"

"Come on guys, don't argue," Blaine interjected. "Artie and everyone are going to be here in an hour."

Rachel smirked. "Wasn't the one arguing," she said.

"No you were just the one bossing," Kurt retorted. "Stop ordering us around and help before I decide you need a warm backside to bring your attitude down a bit."

Rachel scowled, but relented, taking a knife out to chop the vegetables.

"Hey Kurt," Blaine said as he stirred the pot on the stove, looking to change the subject. "You think there's something going around NYADA?"

"What makes you ask that?"

"There were at least two people out from stage combat today. And Amy wasn't in Acting for the Camera. I don't think she's been absent all year."

"Hmm. That's true. I hope not. After last weekend the last thing I want is to get sick again."

"Someone's sick?!" Rachel asked, alarmed.

"Oh—oh no, Rachel—" Blaine soothed, kicking himself. Kurt and he had an agreement not to feed into Rachel's paranoia about germs, which had only gotten worse with her Broadway debut looming. "I'm sure it's nothing. Just a couple people out today is all."
"You two better be washing your hands extra, I can't afford to get sick and if I have to send you both to Mercedes—" Rachel started, her voice rising.

"Calm down, Rachel. No one's sick," Kurt pronounced, exhausted. Privately he was thinking a little break from Rachel at Mercedes place actually wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.

"Better not be," Rachel grumped.

Blaine sighed. Getting Rachel freaked out about illness wasn't his wisest move. He hoped Kurt and Rachel wouldn't be bickering the whole night. Kurt seemed tired, but he was determined to make up for the weekend.