"Happy belated New Year," Kurt said a month after Christmas to Blaine on the phone.
"Thanks," Blaine said. "You too."
"We haven't talked in… a long time."
"I know. I've kind of been waiting for you to call me. Maybe I shouldn't do that…"
"No, it's fine. I'm sorry I didn't call sooner." Kurt paused. "It was nice seeing you over Christmas."
"How's school?"
Kurt sighed. "It's a lot like high school. I don't know why I thought I'd actually enjoy being in a giant school full of Rachels. Actually, that's what I wanted to talk to you about."
Blaine sat cross legged on his bed and prepared to talk Kurt out of dropping out of school. "Okay."
Kurt took a deep breath. "Okay. So, I kept meeting all these improbably talented but obnoxious jerks and idiots in my classes. And I feel… felt so out of place. I tried to hang out with Rachel but I can't even get to her because she's constantly surrounded by a gaggle of the absolute worst of the worst. And I think she's turning into one, but that's not the point right now."
"What's the point?" Blaine asked.
"The point is, I realized I needed my own friends or I might never survive. So I decided to join the show choir here."
"That's… awesome. Are they a million times better than the New Directions?"
"They're…" Kurt said, and laughed. "I don't know."
Blaine waited for him to explain, but he didn't. "… Okay?"
"Anyway, that's not the point either, really. I mean, it is, but…"
"You sound really nervous," Blaine pointed out.
"I am. Okay. I'm just going to say it. Somehow, partially due to Rachel's peer pressure, I ended up, not 48 hours after joining the show choir, asking out their lead singer. Like, on a date. And, before you say anything—"
Blaine shook his head even though Kurt couldn't see him. He wasn't going to say anything.
"There are a lot of points you need to hear. Point one, it's not even worth mentioning except I think Rachel told half of the world and the news might spread back to McKinley. Not that I think I'm actually that important, but just in case, I wouldn't want you to hear it through someone else that I, like, have a boyfriend."
Blaine held his breath. Maybe that would stop him from screaming.
"Which I don't," Kurt said quickly. "But that's what Rachel's telling everyone because she exaggerates everything, as you know. Point two, please know that I'm not in love with him, or in a committed relationship with him, or anything. It's really the smallest, most insignificant thing. We're really just friends. Nothing's happening with it. And point three, I know that you're probably upset to hear this. I would be upset if you told me the same thing. But… if there's anything certain about you and I right now, it's that we're not together, right? I know we don't know what's happening in the future, and I know we haven't talked about it enough to really figure it out. I know we need to. But I'm not ready to. I just can't. I'm so stressed out right now, and I need to be around really nice, normal people who support me so that I can at least try to feel normal sometimes. I need to make my own life here, you know. That was always the plan."
Kurt waited until Blaine said something. Finally Blaine said all that he could. "Thank you for telling me."
"Don't be mad, or insecure about it, or anything. I reiterate, this guy and I are not in a relationship. We haven't even really kissed, except he kisses me on the cheek sometimes when he leaves, but I think that's just because he's, like, European. Or not European European, but, like, British. Maybe you have to be from the continent to do the male-kissing-your-friends-thing. I don't know, I haven't figured it out yet."
—
"European?" Sam, Finn, and Tina repeated in unison, the same look of confusion, shock, and disgust on their faces that Blaine must have had when he first heard it.
Blaine nodded. "But not 'European European,'" he added, sort of mocking Kurt's tone to benefit only his own unhappiness. "But, like, British."
"But you're from Lima, Ohio," Finn said.
"How are you supposed to compete with that?" Sam asked.
"It's like he bypassed the cool New Yorkers and went straight for the most awesome kind of person that can be found," Tina mused.
"I can't believe Kurt asked someone out first," Finn said. "You had to wake up out of a coma to ask him to Breadstix the first time."
"Thank you for recognizing that, Finn," Blaine said. "But why did he tell me like a hundred times not to worry, because they're just friends? If they were just friends he wouldn't have asked him on a date. So whatever the circumstances are, friends or not, Kurt's probably in love with him." He paused. "I think I'm going to have an aneurysm."
"European," Sam said again, mostly in wonder.
Brittany entered the classroom then and plopped down next to Sam. "Who's European?"
"No one," Blaine said miserably.
"Kurt's new boyfriend is European," Brittany said. "Or, like, British."
They all turned to stare at her.
"He's cute, too," she said.
"How do you know?" Tina asked.
"Because Rachel told me about him, and then I added him on Facebook."
"You added him on Facebook?" Blaine asked, not entirely unhysterical. "Why?"
"Because he's Kurt's new boyfriend," she shrugged. "You can tell Kurt has a type, though. The glee club he's in is exactly like the Warblers, if the Warblers were full of art college stereotypes and really aggressive lesbians. Plus, Kurt used to call the Warblers 'Blaine and the Pips,' right?"
"Once, to me, but…" he trailed off when he realized everyone else was nodding.
"He said it behind your back, too," Tina informed him.
"Blaine and the Pips, Adam and the Apples. And he's dating Adam," Brittany said. "Hello?"
"Adam and the Apples?" Tina asked, more disgusted than she was before. "Rachel didn't even try naming the New Directions after herself."
"That's actually the stupidest thing I've ever heard," Sam said and clapped Blaine sympathetically on the back. "No way it'll last."
"He's like your glee club twin," Brittany said.
"Your European glee club twin," Finn remarked, and everyone laughed except Blaine.
—
Tina was sprawled across his bed and looking at the pictures of Kurt he kept on the bedside table when he came in with his tray. She asked him if he'd ever been with a girl and he said no out loud. To himself he added, and I'm not going to start now. He wondered if Tina was becoming Eli in girl form. But he didn't want to lose her in the same awful way, and he certainly wasn't going to make the same mistake twice. He'd have to confront her some day, soon. But not that particular day. He was too sick and too tired.
"Did you take your Nyquil yet?" she asked for the millionth time.
"No, and I don't think I should. I'll probably end up in the hospital."
"It just helps you sleep, it's not going to make you never wake up again," she said, like she was a registered nurse or something. "Besides, it's night time. You're supposed to sleep. Your body needs it."
"If I take half a dose, will you be satisfied?" he asked. She nodded and smiled. He did it. And after he swallowed it he wondered why.
"You should get rid of these pictures," she said, looking at them again. "I'll even get rid of them for you. Do you think Kurt has pictures of you all over the place, now that he has a new boyfriend?"
Blaine sighed and flopped onto his back on the bed beside her. "I don't know. Don't touch them."
"I mean, I'm not trying to be mean. You need to find someone new. You can't be single forever."
"Of course I can," he mumbled. He was tired already.
"But it's almost Valentine's day," she said. "You need a date to Mr. Schue's wedding."
He didn't reply. He was trying to think of a polite response, but instead he just fell asleep.
The next day at school he felt much better, and went to Tina to tell her so. It came to him in a dream that he should ask her to be his date to the wedding, and when he did it in real life she looked even happier than she had in the dream, if that were possible. He was about to stipulate that it was a friends-only kind of date, but she grabbed the red and white card he held in his hand and changed the subject before he could say it.
"What's this?" she asked, reading it without waiting for him to explain.
But he couldn't explain, even if he tried. "I don't know. A valentine? It came in the mail for me. There's no name on it. I guess it's not from you."
"No," she said and scrunched up her nose. "It says 'I'm sorry,' on it. With hearts. Who screwed you over? It must be from them."
"Yeah, literally no one that I can think of. Everyone's generally too nice to me, actually. For as bad as I treat some of them."
"Oh my God," she grinned at him. "It's a Valentine mystery."
He hesitated before asking his next question, knowing she couldn't possibly know the answer, but unable to resist. "Do you think it's from Kurt? It wouldn't be from Kurt, right?"
She looked up from the card. "What did he do to be sorry about?"
Blaine shrugged. "I don't know. He hasn't called for a while."
"It has to be more exciting than that," she said, rolling her eyes. She handed him the card back.
He couldn't do much to solve the mystery during the day, but he used study hall to stealthily send a Facebook message to Eli. For some reason it only made sense to him that the card was from Eli, in some stupid attempt to get Blaine to start talking to him again. "You didn't send me any mail, did you?"
Eli responded right away. Blaine had defriended him months ago, but it still seemed like he'd been waiting the whole time for Blaine to talk to him. "Mail? Like, through the United States Postal Service, mail?"
Blaine simply said yes, and waited.
Eli said, "What is this, the 1800's? No, I didn't send you mail of any kind because I thought I'm not allowed to contact you ever again."
"You're right, you're not," Blaine replied, and blocked him.
—
"Mail?" Kurt asked on the phone that night. "Like an email?"
"No, like mail in my mailbox. 'To Mr. Blaine Devon Anderson in Lima, Ohio' kind of mail."
"Um, no?"
Blaine sighed.
"Is it a Valentine?" Kurt asked.
"Sort of. But it says 'I'm sorry' inside"
"Who would feel the need to apologize to you?" Kurt asked.
"I don't know."
"There's no one you can think of? No one who's hurt you? Even if it was a while ago?"
Blaine frowned. "A while ago? Like how long? What do you mean?"
"I don't know! I'm just trying to help."
They were both quiet for a moment. Kurt started to say something at the same time Blaine said, "Still want to sing with me at the wedding?"
Kurt only got a couple of syllables out before he let Blaine take over. "I… yes. Of course. It'll be fun. Mr. Schue will like it, I think. It'll be just like the good ol' days."
"I think I've learned all the words."
"Good. We'll have to rehearse sometime beforehand. I'm still not sure what time I'm flying in to Lima but… I think we can make time."
"I'll be there if you are," Blaine said, and knew that Kurt smiled.
They were about to say goodbye and goodnight when Kurt cut Blaine off, asking quickly, "Did you think to look at the postmark?"
"Did I…what?" Blaine asked, but Kurt didn't respond. There was only silence on the other end. He looked at the screen and saw the call had been disconnected.
Blaine realized what Kurt was asking a moment later, and scrambled to find the envelope the Valentine had arrived in, buried in the bin beneath his desk. He laughed when he saw it and called Kurt back.
Kurt didn't even say hello, he was just laughing.
"Brooklyn, New York," Blaine said, shaking his head. "How did I not notice?"
"Oh my God," Kurt said, faking seriousness. "Do you think it's from Rachel? What did she do to you?"
Blaine rolled his eyes. "Why are you apologizing to me?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Kurt said. "Don't forget to check your mail tomorrow." He hung up again.
The next day another anonymous valentine was in the mail for Blaine. It said if he wanted to meet his secret friend-mirer he should be at Breadstix on February 13th at 8 PM. He called Kurt after opening it.
"Not that I'm not thrilled, but why are you doing this?" Blaine asked.
"Do you know that literally every song on the radio right now is about how the singer lost their true love because they didn't spend enough time with them?"
Blaine hesitated. He tried to tell himself that Kurt must be going somewhere else with the words, 'true love;' that he couldn't possibly be talking about him, even as he held the stupid valentine in his hands. He cleared his throat and tried to play it cool. "I can only think of one, but sure."
"It's like every time I hear a song it sounds like it's about you. And it's like they're all telling me I didn't… treat you right."
"I think you have it backwards," Blaine said, ignoring the physical onset of panic and euphoria that was spreading over him.
"I know I didn't spend enough time with you."
"You couldn't exactly spend any time with me from another state," he pointed out.
"I'm just saying that I realize I'm not blameless in the whole thing. I wasn't perfect, either. It doesn't mean I deserved to be cheated on, but, now that enough time has passed for me to stop sobbing on a daily basis, I can see we both contributed to the demise of the relationship. And if we want to be friends again, I have to apologize for my part. Among other things, I specifically apologize for leaving you behind in Lima. I know it hurt you, and I did it anyway, and I'm sorry."
Blaine didn't respond for a while. He just sat there, frozen, in shock, with a dumb smile on his face, for a significant period of time.
"Are you still there?" Kurt asked eventually.
"Yes."
"What are you thinking?"
"Um," Blaine said, rolled his shoulders, and looked at his watch. "I'm thinking that I'm almost 45 minutes late for homeroom."
Kurt laughed. "Sorry. So are you meeting me at Breadstix next week or not?"
"Of course I will. And it's not next week, it's in like three days."
"Right, right."
"Like, 72 hours," Blaine said.
"But, Blaine, it's not a date, or anything. We're not getting back together. We're just trying harder at being friends."
"I know, I know," Blaine nodded. "It's still in 72 hours."
"Just so you know," Kurt said. "That we're not."
"I know."
"Right."
As soon as he got to school he texted Sam. "Guess what?"
"What?"
"I'm going on a date with Kurt."
"When? Tonight in your dreams?"
"No, in 72 hours. At Breadstix. In real life."
"I'm gonna need some more information."
"Okay, Kurt isn't exactly considering it a date. But it's at night, the night before Valentine's day, at the most romantic place Lima could possibly come up with. At the same place we had our first date. I mean… It doesn't even matter if Kurt doesn't think it's a date at this point, I'm going to make it one."
Sam wished him good luck, which might or might not have been sarcastic or incredulous, which Blaine ignored.
For the next two days, Blaine's head was in the clouds. He heard and participated in almost nothing, too busy thinking about what was to come with Kurt. But by the morning of the 13th, he started to panic again. There was too much pressure to get everything right, to impress Kurt so much that he changed his mind, dumped his pseudo-boyfriend, and came running back to Blaine's arms. What could he do? How could he make it work?
Thinking about it all caused him to forget and disregard other, far less important things. He forgot to brush his teeth and wore mismatched socks to school. He almost ran into a wall at one point. Sam kept giving him weird looks. Tina just kept smiling at him.
When he got home from school he realized he only had 5 hours before Kurt would be sitting in a booth at Breadstix, waiting for him there. His heart started pounding. He ran into the bathroom and took another shower, made sure to brush his teeth and everything else he could think of, trying to make himself the cleanest and most desirable being on earth.
With only two hours left, he had every article of clothing he owned on the floor of his bedroom, in various possible outfit combinations. And he knew he'd never be able to pick one.
He called Sam. "I'm having a fashion emergency."
"And you called me?"
"I can't call Kurt if he's the one I'm trying to impress. What should I wear on a date-not-date?"
"Clothes," Sam said. "And cologne. You gotta smell really good. That's as far as my expertise goes."
Blaine went back to his bathroom and pulled bottles of cologne from a drawer. He squinted at the labels and read them aloud. "Should I go with an early morning walk around an ice covered lake in a forgotten wood, or a scent that elicits the adrenaline charged streets of Paris?"
As soon as the words were out of his mouth his vision went black for an instant, like the lights of the world were shut off and turned back on again. He didn't realize he'd almost fell until he caught his heel on the wall behind him and almost twisted his ankle. Somewhere very far away he could hear Sam laughing, but it didn't sound quite right. Blaine rubbed his eyes with his free hand. "What?"
"Uh, what?" Sam asked. "I said Paris. Well, I laughed at you, and then I said Paris."
"I didn't hear you…" Blaine mumbled, and the world seemed to shift from under him again. His hands and feet began to tingle and all the rest of him felt too light, like it was disconnected and might rise up into space and float away.
"Phone cut out?" Sam asked, but he sounded like he was under water on another planet.
"No, I feel weird. I'm just gonna—" Blaine said, and didn't finish his sentence. He sat on the bathroom floor and put his head against the base of the sink.
"Are you sick?" Sam asked, growing concerned. "Are you going into another coma thing? Should I call an ambulance? Should I call the cops? Did you take your medicine?"
Blaine thought about it, but it was hard to think. He always took it. He always took it right after he brushed his teeth. But he forgot to brush his teeth that morning. He tried to answer Sam, but he didn't know if he succeeded before everything went black again, and stayed that way, the second time.