Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I'm such an idiot.

Blaine sat paralyzed for a minute, disrupted in his cursing at himself only by the horns honking behind him. Eventually people saw he was broken down and drove around him, but every few cars, someone would drive up and honk, thinking he was just stopping up traffic for no reason. His mouth was dry. His hands were clammy. He had no idea what to do, except wave out the window for people to drive by.

One guy stopped and rolled down his window – "Hey, you alright?"

"Uh I ran out of gas."

"I see that." Yes I know I'm an idiot, you don't have to point it out sir. "Do you have Triple A?"

Well. Yes. But...

"Well? You know what that is?"

Blaine shook himself out of his stupor. "I, yeah- I mean, I know what it is." I'm not an idiot. "My parents have it."

The man definitely thought he was an idiot. "You need a cell phone?"

"N-n-no sir, I- I got it. Th-thank you." Blaine held up his cell.

"Well you need to call them to rescue you. You're blocking up traffic." The man rolled his eyes and drove off.

Blaine sighed, leaning his head back against the headrest. He stared at the clock above the radio. One more minute and he was officially late. Damn it. Dalton was surrounded by woods and a lake. The closest gas station at the moment was a couple miles away. He'd have to walk all that way, hope they had one of those containers for gas... What do those things even cost?... and then walk all the way back. In his uniform, which he somehow was just now realizing was basically a walking advertisement that he was skipping school. He opened his phone and stared at it for a minute. Considering his options. He knew his parents had Triple A because his mom had called them the time the battery died last year. She had a card in her purse and had called with the number. But he didn't have the card, so he didn't have the number. He could call his Dad, but he'd want to know why he needed it. And why he needed it at one in the afternoon when he was supposed to be in school. Blaine contemplated the lies he could tell. I was just thinking, very responsibly, that I really should have that number written down somewhere, Dad. ...Why am I not in Algebra right now? Oh, well it's a special no-Algebra day at Dalton. Didn't I tell you about that? Yeah we take a holiday and drive around the parking lot all period...

Yeah. Wasn't going to call Dad. Mom was going to flip out, and she would tell Dad anyway, but... putting the inevitable off just a little longer seemed pretty attractive at the moment. Blaine's stomach turned thinking of the high probability that he'd be finding himself over a knee tonight. And kiss any thought of being allowed to drive anywhere soon goodbye.

Blaine winced in misery. Gotta bite the bullet... Blaine dialed his Mom's cell. It rang twice and she picked up.

"Blaine, I'm in a meeting what is it?"

He wasn't expecting this curt tone. Great. "Uh hey Mom. I just called because I-need-the-card- number-for-Triple-A." He said it fast and held his breath.

"You- what?"

"Dad never got me a Triple A card and I need the number. I... ran out of gas Mom."

"Why do you... where are you right now?"

"Uh, yeah- that's the thing." Blaine bit his lip.

"Blaine."

"I'm in Westerville."

"Where in Westerville?"

"I'm like a mile away from school, Mom." Should start workin on my obituary now I guess.

"Hold on." Blaine strained to hear as her muffled voice "Excuse me...it's my son- I need to..."

I need to reached through the phone lines and strangle him. That's the words you're lookin for, Mom. Blaine sighed.

There was a long pause and she was back.

"Okay. I'm assuming you have a really good reason for being on the side of a road somewhere and not in school where I'm sending tuition checks every month, young man."

This is going well. Blaine swallowed.

"Well- I- not... exactly."

"You're skipping school."

"I- well I only meant to skip lunch—and study hall, but..."

"Who are you and what did you do with my son? Since when do you-"

"I'm sorry, Mom, I didn't think-"

"Yeah, you got that right."

God this sucks. "It's kind of a long story."

"I'm sure it is. I don't have time for this right now. Where are you?"

Blaine was confused. "I told you- I'm.-"

"No what street, Blaine."

"Oh. Uh. Old Coach Road, like a block down from that elementary school."

"Okay I'm calling Triple A. Stay there until they come rescue you. But the minute they're done, you get yourself back to school. What time are you done today?"

"I- uh, Warbler practice until five-"

"Fine. You made a commitment to them, you keep it. But then you're coming straight home. We can discuss your punishments at dinner."

Punishments. Plural. Great.

"Ye-es Mom."

"I look forward to your explanation, Blaine."

"I'm real sorry Mom."

"Well. You will be."

"You going to tell Dad?"

"...No I think he'd rather hear it from you.""

Not sure if which is worse, honestly. Ugh.