Blaine checked his phone for what seemed like the hundredth time. Then, he scrolled through his phone to find exactly how much money he had left on his prepaid plan, just to be doubly sure he hadn't run out of minutes. Internally, he was freaking out. By the time he fully sobered up, he was certain he'd made a total ass of himself at Jeremiah's. He felt certain something had happened, but the fact that he couldn't remember it just made him feel sure that he must have been more aggressive than he'd intended to be.

Alcohol, he knew from one or two past experiences, tended to loosen him up – so much so that he'd actually tried to make out with Bethany, of all people, on one of those sordid occasions.

"You OK, dude? You look a little green." Blaine looked up to see Mike looking directly at him.

He cleared his throat and glanced up at Mr. Schuester (aka "the Shoe") who seemed to be rubbing sweat from his forehead as he misspelled "pantalones" on the board. "Yeah," he said. "Fine."

He would have liked to blame how he was feeling on the flu that seemed to be running around school, but he knew it wasn't the case. Mr. Schue, clearly incapable of continuing his lesson, told them to break off into groups and discuss what they wore over the weekend. Blaine immediately flashed to his naked form stumbling into an unfamiliar bathroom, and his throat went dry. Before Mike could even say a single word, Blaine got out of his seat, threw his bag on his shoulder, and grabbed the bathroom pass on his way out the door. He was only in the bathroom for what seemed like a minute or two. He splashed water on his face and patted it dry with a paper towel when overhead, the bell rang.

He felt ill again. Maybe it really was the flu. Maybe he could convince the nurse to send him home and he could spend the rest of the week in bed.

Kurt was fuming. The body wasn't even cold, and already Rachel was trying to control them all. At least he had Study Hall next, which would allow him to calm down before English class. He offered the librarian a tight smile and signed his name on the roster. Then, he made his way purposefully back to his quiet slice of….but wait, it wasn't really "his" anymore. Kurt slowed to a stop when he saw Blaine in his usual spot, then sighed and continued forward with a practiced air of nonchalance.

Kurt withdrew his books from his bag, dropping them, perhaps, a bit too forcefully on the table to come across as strictly calm. Blaine, his attention drawn by the slapping of books, notebooks and, finally, a pencil case, on the library table, looked up at the boy who…could he be considered a friend? Blaine wasn't sure.

"Everything…all right?" Blaine asked cautiously.

Kurt huffed, then lifted his head to aim his piercing glare on Blaine. "How, pray tell, do you stand her?"

Blaine, confused at first, asked, "Stand who?"

"Rachel," Kurt responded sharply. "How do you stand Rachel. Mr. Schuester has gone home sick apparently, and Rachel has already started bossing everyone in Glee Club around like a demon drill sergeant from show choir hell."

Blaine couldn't help it. He really couldn't. He snorted. He covered his mouth with his hand and actually snorted a laugh. "I'm sorry, I just – that's…like, the most accurate description of her I've heard yet."

Kurt simply glared, but Blaine waved the glare away. "I don't know what to tell you, man. I've only known her a few weeks. You've been dealing with her for years. All I know is, I'd never join a Glee Club run by Princess Pain-in-my-ass. Not in a million years."

Kurt looked taken aback. "You mean you'd never join a Glee Club, period."

Blaine's smile faltered. His bushy eyebrows drew together thoughtfully. "No," he said slowly, considering. "I mean, I'd never join a Glee Club run by Rachel. She's – not exactly my favorite person. The word 'self-centered' comes to mind." He shrugged. "And she's not exactly keen on hanging around with me either, so it's fine. Wait, did you say Schue is sick? Do you think that means we'll have a substitute in Spanish tomorrow?"

As Blaine looked up again to meet Kurt's eyes, something flashed behind them. "Blaine. You're genius."

With Mr. Schue sick, this was finally her chance. She was going to whip this Glee Club into shape and show them what it would take to win at sectionals. She had already rewatched the classic Bernadette Peters & Peter Allen "Tribute to Irving Berlin" and was reimagining it with Finn in the role of Peter Allen. All she would need to do was make sure Finn learned to play piano before sectionals and she was sure the set would highlight her own vocal talents brilliantly.

She was ready to present her ideas to Glee. She was certain once they all heard the genius behind her plan that they would all fall in line and finally come around to the fact that she, Miss Rachel Berry, was the only one who could successfully lead them to a resounding win at Sectionals this year in Mr. Schue's absence. She was the grandest lady in the Easter Parade. It was the role she'd been born to play.

She felt so certain that the stars had finally…finally…aligned in her favor, that the thought Kurt might be conspiring against her behind her back hadn't even occurred to her.

After checking his phone for the thousandth time that day, Blaine couldn't help glancing across the table at Kurt. He bit his lip. He really didn't feel like being alone today – or like going home. Not when Jeremiah was so clearly rejecting him. He knew it was probably a bad idea, knew Rachel would not appreciate him usurping one of her friends, but part of him felt indignant at the very idea that she would object. He was his own person, after all. He could be friends with whomever he wanted, couldn't he? Besides, if Jeremiah wasn't going to answer his calls… "Hey Kurt."

Kurt looked up.

"Listen," Blaine continued, tapping his pencil unconsciously on the open page of his notebook. "I was thinking of going to the Lima Bean after school. You – wanna go? You know, hang out?" He half-shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant, but Kurt's expression looked taken aback. Had he overstepped? Had he perhaps thought Kurt enjoyed his company when really he was just humoring Blaine? Expression hardening, Blaine prepared to tell Kurt he couldn't really care less either way – that he could find something better to do, someone better to hang out with...

"I'd love to."

Blaine's brows arched in surprise. "I – good. I mean, that's great," he said, nodding. "Cool." And with that plan made, Blaine finally turned back to his Spanish homework, as the anxiety he'd been contending with since the previous day calmed somewhat at the knowledge he wasn't completely alone in this loser town.