A/N: Thanks again to all of you who've favorited or followed this story, and thanks again to everyone who's reviewed. We get to meet Blaine's friend Bethany in this chapter, and I'd really like to hear what you all think of her. In fact, I'd really like to hear what you think, period. Please R&R. Even if it's just a few words. :)
D/C: I claim ownership over the plot and my dear O/Cs only. Everything else is only borrowed.
Blaine fisted and tugged unconsciously at the hem of his suit jacket. He'd tried steeling himself, and even had himself convinced the whole way down to Columbus that he'd be able to keep from crying during the service, but the moment he exited the Berrys' car, clad in his new black suit with a gray and black tie, his hair lightly gelled (LeRoy's suggestion), Blaine had felt a spike in his anxiety. He didn't know what to expect. He didn't know how these things were supposed to go, or where he'd sit, and for one horrible moment, the memory of his mother's bruised and bloodied face flashed in his mind's eye and he was scared that he would see that face again, that everyone would see it. The thought made him feel horribly nauseous as he approached the doors of the funeral home. His legs felt like jelly and suddenly he wanted nothing more than to run as fast and far away as he could.
The thought was broken by the sound of his name. "Blaine!" The teen boy turned on his heel, and so did the Berry men. His eyes landed on the figure of a tall, lanky girl waving at him. He barely spared LeRoy and Hiram a glance before breaking ranks and jogging towards her. Her own pace quickened and she skipped a little as she made her way over to him. "Blaine," she groaned as she threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly.
Blaine had the wind practically knocked out of him by her enthusiasm, but caught her embrace and squeezed back, only pulling away when he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. He broke the hug and turned around. LeRoy pointed to an empty area near the front door. "We'll be right over there, Blaine," he said gently, then turning eyes on the girl he held out his hand to her. "Hello, I'm LeRoy Berry, and this is Hiram," he introduced himself, gesturing to his husband. Blaine noticed LeRoy left out the nature of their relationship, and something akin to guilt pricked at his stomach.
Bethany looked between Blaine and the two older men. "Um, hi," she said uncertainly, and took LeRoy's offered hand.
"This is Bethany," Blaine chimed in with a murmur.
LeRoy and Hiram merely smiled at her. "Nice to meet you, Bethany." Then, with a nod at Blaine, LeRoy turned, placed a hand on Hiram's shoulder, and walked with his husband toward the door.
Bethany was a tall girl – almost as tall as Blaine without her heels, which she'd opted against for the funeral. Her shoulder-length hair was blonde with red low-lights today, though neither Blaine nor Bethany really knew what her natural color was anymore. Her features weren't what anyone would deem extraordinary, with brown eyes, a slight upturn to her nose, and thin lips, but the freckles that dotted her nose and cheeks had always stood out to Blaine as something beautiful.
Bethany hated her freckles.
Blaine buried his hands in his pockets, because he knew his friend well enough to know she wouldn't hold back her questions for long. "Friends of yours?" she asked, a tint of concern to her voice. Blaine glanced at the pair and sighed, but shook his head.
"They, that is – social services –"
Bethany sucked in a breath, her eyes widening slightly. They knew kids in foster care, and some of the stories they'd heard were enough to scare her out of ever reporting her own parents, or Blaine's, even if they might have deserved it.
But Bethany wasn't prepared for what he actually told her.
"- they found my dad. Or – dads," he said, rolling his eyes.
Bethany stepped into Blaine and gripped his arm with her hand. "Are you serious?" She looked over at the Berrys, and Hiram pretended not to notice. "I thought your dad left? You never told me he was gay." Blaine winced.
"Is it that obvious?"
Bethany gave him a look as if to say, are you seriously asking me that?
Blaine simply sighed and his friend's expression softened.
"So – what does this mean?" she asked quietly.
Blaine avoided her eyes and shrugged. "It means I live in Lima, now." His answer came out far more bitter than he intended, but then, he was bitter. He was bitter that he had no choice in the matter. He was bitter that there was any reason for him to live in Lima at all.
Worry flashed across Bethany's face. "Will I get to see you again?"
Blaine felt a clench in his heart. She sounded so sad. Without thinking he pulled a hand from his pocket and took her hand firmly. "Of course you will. I'll visit. I'll find a way to come down here, and you can come see me in Lima." He attempted a small smile and she met it with one of her own. With a forlorn glance at the building behind him he took a bracing breath. "Come on. We should get inside." He sounded stronger than he'd felt before she showed up. It was easier being stronger for someone else than for himself and now that Bethany was here, he could focus on being strong for her, even if both of them knew it was Blaine who needed strength, not her.
Bethany simply nodded and the pair set off hand-in-hand towards the place where the Berrys were waiting.
Later on, Blaine wouldn't remember anything about the service except three things. First, the way the casket looked – dark and polished, and nicer than anywhere else his mother and he had ever lived. His fear of seeing his mother looking the way she had in the hospital was unfounded since, as it turned out, his mother's family didn't want to pay the extra to make her presentable. The casket was closed from the start. Second, he'd remember the sharp pain that jabbed at his chest the moment the lector described his mother… "devoted daughter, loving mother…" He'd remember the anger when no one around them seemed to even question it. And lastly, he'd remember the feel of Bethany's hand in his, sure and firm, grounding him to her, if nothing else.
She squeezed and clasped his hand in both of hers, then offered him a reassuring smile. She knew. She knew the truth and he wasn't alone in that. She was there and even if the small room packed with strangers thought the world of his mother, it was ok with Bethany if he didn't. But more than that, it was ok with Bethany if he loved her anyway. There wasn't even a hint of judging in that smile and Blaine, hovering somewhere between numbness and feeling on the verge of tears, felt his position grow even more precarious.
He opted to let his mind retreat, to let the pain lock itself away in a tiny box in the darkest recesses of his brain so that, for now at least, he could simply survive. The rest of the service passed by him as if he was watching from the other side of a screen. He felt removed from it, from everyone, save for the girl who gripped his hand like it belonged to her. Blaine barely registered that the service was over until he felt Bethany gently tug at his arm. He realized then that she'd been trying to get his attention. "We need to go, B." It took a second, but Blaine simply nodded and stood. He walked beside her all the way to the parking lot, rubbing his eyes and blinking when the sun suddenly invaded his vision. He didn't notice the figure waiting for him – for them – with narrowed eyes and a cigarette tucked between his lips.
Stop it, Kurt. This is ridiculous. He's straight!
Kurt struggled to keep his eyes on the front of the room, to ignore the blond Adonis, but no amount of silent berating could keep his focus off of Sam for long. His eyes seemed drawn of their own accord to where his friend was sitting bent low over the French test that Kurt had completed 20 minutes ago. From where he sat, he could see the side of Sam's face, the way his brows furrowed deeply in concentration, the way his lips danced around soundless words as he read each sentence mock-aloud to himself, the way he'd suck in his luscious bottom lip as he contemplated the answers. God, what I wouldn't give to kiss those lips…
For a brief second the image passed across his mind's eye and Kurt started with a slight tremble and tore his eyes away from the blond. He could not have these thoughts about Sam of all people! Sam was straight! And probably dating Quinn Fabray, though like all Glee Club relationships, it was sort of unclear to him what their relationship status really was. Those sorts of things changed far too frequently to really keep up with, honestly.
Still, whatever was going on with Sam, it was going on between Sam and Quinn, and Kurt knew – he'd known for quite a while, in fact – that there was no chance whatsoever of anything going on between Sam and Kurt. Finn had made that perfectly clear. Kurt glared at the back of the test paper on his desk, impatiently tapping the pads of two slender fingers against the top of his desk as he waited for the period to end.
Kurt felt someone's gaze on him and he instantly lifted his own to see who was looking at him. His eyes locked briefly with Sam's. The blond's expression was unreadable, but for a second, he actually held Kurt gaze and smiled – actually smiled at him before turning back to his test. Kurt was dumbstruck. There wasn't any reason Sam would be looking at him unless – did he have something on his face? Kurt reached up a hand and ran it lightly over the skin of his face. Or maybe he heard me tapping my fingers? Or – oh God, what if he caught me staring?
Kurt felt himself start to panic before he remembered the smile. If he had caught Kurt looking he wouldn't have smiled, right? Right. Unless Sam was gay. Unless Sam was interested in Kurt. But even though the idea would have made his stomach flip this same time last year, he'd grown up a lot since then. He understood now that it wouldn't actually matter if Sam was gay. It wouldn't matter if Sam was crushing on him as much as he crushed on Sam. Because at the end of the day, it changed nothing. Kurt was the only gay guy brave enough to be out and proud at McKinley High. He was the only one brave enough to have a crush on a guy and act on it. So even if there were ten or twenty or fifty guys that all had crushes on Kurt (he scoffed silently at the thought, as if that would ever happen), he'd still be all alone.
Though he'd never have told his dad, with every slushie and locker slam, Kurt was getting closer to wishing he'd never come out in the first damn place. Sure, he was proud, but pride didn't save him from bullies, and bravery didn't make him any less lonely. In fact, he felt more alone now than ever before. Now, sitting in French class and waiting for the bell to finally ring, he thought about how hopeless it really was that he'd find any happiness at McKinley, and just felt sad.
A/N: Uh-oh, someone's waiting for Blaine in the parking lot. Any guesses as to who it might be? :D