Author's note: Sorry for the wait, my fellow Purt-shippers! My computer was viciously taken away from me, leaving me with no other choice than to write chapter 8 by hand. I finally got a cramp and had to wait until order had been restored – my beloved computer is back in loving and capable hands. I hope this chapter is worth the wait.

"Yes."

It had slipped so easily from his lips, almost natural, like the smile which invaded his face seconds later. Kurt hoped dearly that Noah had not noticed the urgency which filled his body to the brim with furiously fluttering butterflies. Heated memories of their previous encounters had made it obviously hard to even function properly – his hands trembled when he clutched the messenger bag tight against his side. The soles of his gorgeous Jimmy Choo boots clicked loudly as they made contact with the linoleum floor beneath him. He was walking rapidly towards Science class with unfashionably flushed cheeks, both from exhilaration and physical strain. A problem had occurred, just as Kurt let that simple "yes" escape him: his father would not let him spend the evening with someone who may or may not have kissed him senseless up against an old Camaro (in which many children probably had been conceived). That was a big no-no. Therefore, he needed an alibi which his girl without doubt would give him. He slid with less grace than usual into the classroom, right before Mr Fuller managed to close the door. It owed him a menacing glare from his teacher, but he had other, more important matters on his mind.

She had waited and waited and waited and Mercedes Jones was not the girl who thought fondly of being stood up. It had been a standing agreement between her and white chocolate to meet up by her locker every morning before class – just to do a quick assessment of both of their fabulous outfits. Arms locked together, they would walk with heads held high and proudly flaunt their amazingness all over McKinley High until they reached their classroom. They were the next Lady Gaga and Beyoncé – unstoppable and fierce. This day had been different. Kurt had not showed up for their early morning meeting, leaving her walking alone through the hallways and that just was not the same. Not until she had situated herself at their usual spots in the Science classroom, worry washed over her. What if he had gotten thrown in the dumpster again? What if he could not get out? She knew that he had learned a special technique after much practice of climbing out of it, but it all depended on how much garbage there was. If it was not enough, he simply could not reach and would need a hand to get out. Already halfway out of her chair, she noticed a familiar shape in the corner of her eye. She was not sure of if she felt relief, disappointment or mere anger of being stood up. He was obviously fine – he even looked excited. Pursing her lips, she crossed her arms in front of her god given bosom and raised her eyebrows. By the distressed and apologetic smile he suddenly sported, she knew she had made an impact.

"Mercedes, I'm so sorry..." he hurriedly whispered, sinking down in the seat next to her.

"I called you like three times, didn't you get any of my messages?"

He shook his head rapidly and started fumbling with the straps of his messenger bag to get his cellphone out. The screen flashed in bright colours and judging by the way his eyes widened, the cellphone told him just what she had said.

"I'm so sorry..." he repeated with a bit more emphasis this time, pleading for her forgiveness. "I was... distracted."

That was when she noticed it. Something was off with him, weirdly out of place. He had actually smiled while saying "distracted", as if it had some underlying meaning Mercedes did not know. She was used to being in on his inside jokes. Hell, he did not even have any inside jokes until they became friends! This only added fuel to her disappointment.

"By what?"

"Ms Jones, is there something you'd like to share with the class?" Mr Fuller's voice bellowed loudly.

Both friends looked up and Mercedes quickly shook her head, already reaching out for pen and paper to resume their conversation. She firmly pushed the paper towards Kurt, eyebrows raised expectantly. He seemed to hesitate at first, but knew that there was no shortcuts to getting on her good side again. The pen moved swiftly over the paper before he pushed it back on her side of the desk. The message was brief.

"Puck."

Eyes wide in surprise she eyed Kurt's blushing cheeks and the way his hand was placed over his still heavily heaving chest. He avoided her gaze, knowing that anger made her eyes flare by now.

"omg, what did he do? should I beat him up? no one lays a hand on my boy unpunished! i'll shave is stupid mohawk again!"

She relished in the fact that she, despite everything, made him smile – a small but genuine movement of his plump lips. He only shook his head, while grasping the pen once again and writing a small message in petite letters.

"Could you do me a favor?"

Mercedes replied with eager nodding, knowing that they both were shitty BFFs from time to time, but when they really needed it he was her Robin and she was his Batman. Yes, she just made a comic reference, but who does not enjoy men in tights? She sure knew that she did not and probably not Kurt either. The relieved smile he flashed her way was reward enough.

"I have somewhere I need to be after school. Can I tell dad I'm going to your place?"

He already knew what her next question was, even before she pushed the paper over their shared desk once again.

"where are you going?"

He had preferred not conveying that detail. This... relationship (if you could even call it that) which he had with Noah was something he wanted to keep for himself. At least for now, now when he did not even know what to call it. Surely, at some point he would like to walk hand in hand with Noah down the hallways of McKinley High, but this was not that point. He needed to figure things out first. His hand wavered over the paper and he adjusted the hold around the pencil with great care. Minutes might have passed, because suddenly Mercedes sighed deeply and yanked the pen out of his hand.

"alright, white boy, but you've got some heavy explaining to do later!"

Kurt squeezed her hand under the table.

Finn had this nagging feeling in his tummy. During the entire first period, he had pondered over if he was hungry or not, and it sort of felt like when he craved for a humongous grilled chicken or whatever, but there was still something else. He was not one hundred percent sure, but it might be worry. It had started last night and he knew for a fact that he had eaten a HUGE breakfast and that he really should not be hungry, so it probably was worry. Though, at the same time, he was a big boy and big boys needed their food... and milk, so their bones would get strong. Wonder what's for lunch today... Okay, it was worry. He realized that when he sighted Puck in the hallway after second period, sneaking a blue note into a locker. It looked a lot like the note Kurt had tried to hide in his hand yesterday. Now he knew it was worry. It only took him a few steps to reach him, because he was tall and had really long legs. He grabbed Puck by the arm, completely ignoring the shocked look he received from him.

"What the fuck, man?"

There was no real effort to drag him away from curious eyes. He quickly found an empty classroom which he pulled him into. Locking the door around them and finally spinning around, he was faced with Puck's furious features.

"What the hell are you doing?" Puck spat, dark eyes burning holes in Finn's head. Though, he would not falter.

"I should ask you the same thing", he blurted out.

"Did you hit your head or something? You're not making any sense, dude."

Now, Finn might be dumb, but he knew that Puck was acting dumb.

"Kurt", he simply said and just as he thought, it halted the angry words gushing out of his best friend since kindergarten. Puck licked his lips, arms crossed defensively across his chest. His nostrils flared and it would have looked funny if it was not for the cramped and forced situation he had put them in.

"What about that faggot?" Puck finally replied, though, his voice did not have that sharp edge which it used to have. Like he really did not mean what he said (insightful of Finn, isn't it?).

"What's going on between you two?"

"Nothing. Why the fuck do you care anyway?"

"Because he's my brother, that's why!"

Finn really had not meant to get angry with him, but there was something about his face which just made him so... annoyed. Puck looked at him, wide-eyed and surprised.

"And yesterday things got really really weird at dinner, because Burt started talking about you and Kurt got upset and started yelling about being a virgin!"

"What's your point?"

"My point is... he's my little brother and if you hurt him, I'll be right after Burt with his shotgun."

"Dude, he's like... three months older than you..."

"He is? But that's not the point", Finn interjected.

"... and I thought we were bros? Bros over hoes, remember?"

"Well, bros doesn't exactly sleep with each others' girlfriends or call their brothers hoes, do they?"

The silence was a sign of that Finn was right.

Mercedes had tried pumping him for information the entire day. It was infuriating and tiring, though, he could hardly blame her and her not so subtle attempts to make him spill his guts out.

"Mercedes, please..." he said while unlocking his locker, rolling his eyes towards her. "Do I look like a drug dealer?"

She had tried every theory she possibly could come up with, including that he had been brainwashed by a sect and that he would have a top secret meeting with the CIA. The latest; meeting up with a Cuban drug cartel at the airport. She sighed and shook her head.

"I wish that you could just tell me... You know I'm good with secrets."

Kurt just nearly avoided reminding her about Baby Gate, advising himself that it was for his own health. The wrath of a hungry, black and proud woman was not one he wished to face.

"I'll tell you soon. Not today, but soon. I just have a few things which I need to figure out first."

He pulled the locker open and the fluttering of something blue diverted his attention from Mercedes' pleading eyes. A note, which flew straight down to the floor once the locker was opened. Kurt realized who the sender was immediately. It was the same kind of indigo as the piece of paper he had found in his pocket yesterday. The recognition and joy he felt must have somehow transcended to his face, because before he even had time to react, she had made a dive for it and clutched the note in her hands. Oh, holy Gaga. This was not going to end good. He pretended to look for another book as he heard her shocked gasp.

"Why do you have Puck's number in your locker?"

"What? He gave me his number?"

He snatched the note out of her hand. His heart rate had picked up and his hands almost shivered with anticipation when he read the message.

"Call me when school's out."

It was signed with "Noah". If it had not been for the next to mortified expression Mercedes currently sported, he would have smiled and acknowledged the thrilling joy within. A boy had given him his number. A boy who was not a relative, a science project partner or Artie. He felt a sudden need to leap, to giggle and skip through the hallways like a twelve year old cheerleader with ponytails. He could so pull off ponytails. He wanted to rejoice, while Mercedes looked like she went to his funeral.

"Kurt... what's going on?"

Finn was just a buttload of crap. What the fuck did he know, anyway? And when had he started caring about Kurt? He had always been whining about how creepy it was to share a bedroom with him and whatever. Puck had just barely listened. He gripped the steering wheel tighter. His knuckles whitened. After his encounter with Finn, his feet had steered him back to his old, though loyal truck. Never once had she died on him and such kind of loyalty was deeply appreciated. Maybe Finn Fucking Hudson could learn something from her. He dashed his head against the wheel, the car horn gave away a wailing sound which scared the shit out of some freshmen. He would have laughed, but it somehow did not seem as funny as it was. His cellphone laid upon the passenger seat and he just waited. Waited for this shitty day to end. Waited for Kurt's phone call.

Kurt stomped out of McKinley, clutching his cellphone tight in his hand. He was mad. Last time he checked, they were supposed to be best friends and best friends were supposed to be supportive, right? Now, "you're making a terrible mistake" did not sound very supportive to him. Mercedes had brought up so much garbage and by the time he stormed off, her face had been as descriptive as an "I'm with idiot" t-shirt. Kurt Hummel was not an idiot. He had already thought of all those things she brought up; Puck was using him, this was some sort of cruel joke, a new kind of torture, a good laugh. She had first hand experience, from the brief time they had been dating. Well, Kurt knew for a fact that they had not even kissed and he and Noah had done so much more. She was just jealous because he had someone and she did not.

The first signal had barely gone through before he heard a raspy voice in the other end.

"Puck."

"Hello, Noah. It's Kurt. Where are you?"

Author's note: So, many different points of views in this chapter. I hated writing Mercedes. I had so much trouble with finding my inner proud black diva. Did I get her voice right (read: acceptable)? Somehow, I can identify so much easier with awkward gay boys. Anyway, during my involuntary computer-free time, I did some thinking and realized that I needed to add some complications to the story. This will hopefully help me to figure this thing out.

Now, don't you forget to review! Yes, I'm talking to YOU!

/Becka