Blaine took a deep breath as he pulled into the driveway. Dad's car was already there. He was able to work from home about half the time now, but on days he went into the office Mom and him carpooled back and forth together. It was just easier than driving Blaine in the complete opposite direction when he finally had his license and could do it himself. College tuition plus Dalton tuition didn't leave a lot of extra cash for a third car, and anyway they didn't really think it was appropriate for teenagers to have their own cars. At least until they had jobs and could pay for their own insurance, which Blaine didn't. Getting out of the car, Blaine wondered what they would do. He figured car driving privileges were going to be high on the list of things revoked for today's infractions, but that would mean going back to the way it was before, with Mom driving him every day. She was not going to be happy about that. The one advantage of failing kindergarten the first time around had been that he was a year older and able to get his license before others in his class. It made the whole Dalton thing so much easier. Last year all that chauffeuring Blaine's mom had done made him feel extra guilty. It was just one more way his being gay was a burden to his family, one more thing he felt he couldn't make up to them.

Blaine opened the door to the house, fidgety, and dropped his bag and jacket on the bench in the front hall. He took off his blazer and hung it on the banister, kicking off his shoes and loosening his tie. Most days he couldn't get his uniform off fast enough at the end of the day. He had a lot of Dalton pride and was happy to wear it there, but at the end of the day he wanted some sweatpants to relax in. He supposed he wasn't going to get much opportunity to change before his parents started reaming him out today though. He could hear the clanging of pots in the kitchen, and knew it was time to face the music.

He undid the tie and hung it over the banister as well and then grudgingly headed into the kitchen.

Dad was looking over the mail at the island. Mom was stirring pasta at the stove.

"Hey, how'd that Latin test go?" Dad's friendly voice made it clear he didn't know yet. She really was going to make him tell.

Blaine hadn't even thought about the Latin test in hours. Oh right, the other thing I screwed up today. He grimaced. "Uh... terrible."

"But you studied-?"

"Yeah, I don't know, Mr. Sullivan's tests keep surprising me..."

"Well, wait until you see what grade you got and if it's as bad as you think maybe you should go get some extra help from him."

Blaine nodded. The absurdity of talking about that test right now made him feel more fidgety. In his peripheral vision, Blaine saw Mrs. Anderson turn the stove down and turn around, looking Blaine over appraisingly. Swallowing, he shot a glance to her and then looked away, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Gabe, your son has some things he needs to discuss today."

"Hmmm...?" Mr. Anderson was only half-listening, heading back to the table opening a belated birthday card from his cousin.

"Yes he called me at work today with some... surprising things to say." Mrs. Anderson was looking pointedly at Blaine, whose mouth was suddenly feeling very dry.

"Gabriel."

"What- I'm listening..." he said, still distracted reading the card.

Crossing to her son, Mrs. Anderson said, "Blaine, why don't you explain to your father why you had to call me today."

"Uh- well..." Blaine bit his lip. Because, where to begin. Was there any way to say he skipped school after he promised not to drive anywhere but school and home just that morning that wouldn't make him look like someone in need of serious punishment?

Out of patience, Mrs. Anderson gave a hard smack to Blaine's bottom. "Start. Talking."

Mr. Anderson looked up at that. Something was going on.

Looking back and forth between his two parents, Blaine turned a bit to move himself a couple inches out of direct swatting range. "I... uh... kinda screwed up today Dad."

Mr. Anderson donned his Scary Dad Face, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. "Screwed up how?"

"Well... I-" Maybe start with the less Really Bad confessions first? "I sorta ran out of gas."

Gabriel Anderson sighed, irritated. "Didn't I tell you this morning that that would happen?"

"Y-yes s-sir."

"If you can't show you can be responsible for a car you're not going to be driving one very much, young man."

Blaine looked at the floor, nodding miserably.

"Part of your allowance is supposed to be going to gas money, are you wasting your money on other things?"

"N-no sir, I just- had a lot on my mind and didn't notice-"

"So your excuse is you just forget?"

"I- um..." Blaine was flustered. Were there right answers to these kinds of questions?

"Because if you need a firm hand to help you remember these things Blaine, I'm more than happy to oblige," Mr. Anderson threatened.

Blaine hated that familiar feeling of being very small. It returned anytime he was in hot water around here, and sometimes he hated that feeling even more than any punishment his parents ever wielded. Blood rushing to his face, he stammered at his dad. "S-sorry sir."

"And when did this happen?"

Boy if he thinks he's mad about this now...

"About- uh..." Blaine looked at his hands. "Around one o' clock this afternoon Dad."

Mr. Anderson's lifted an eyebrow. "One o'clock-?" He was confused. "You're in school at-" his eyes went wide, realizing. He stood up. Blaine took a nervous step back in response. Mr. Anderson's voice became very slow and icy. "Are you telling me..."

Shakily Blaine pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and opened it up, laying it on the island. "I have to get you to sign this. When you- get caught... skipping..." Blaine swallowed, "you get a detention."

"I would imagine so." Rosalie said curtly, taking the paper and looking it over. Passing it over to her husband, she asked what she'd been wanting to know all afternoon. "Blaine Gabriel Anderson what on Earth would possess you to-"

"I didn't mean to miss class, it was just going to be study hall and lunch-" Blaine blurted.

Mr. Anderson jumped on that, outraged. "You planning on using that as your defense? Really?" Yeah this is about where I guess I predicted the yelling would start. "Your mother and I work hard to send you to Dalton and your brother to college and you think we're okay with you sneaking off whenever you feel like it?"

"N-no sir, I-"

Blaine's dad held up the demerit report. "You thinking you're going to become one of those kids that just gets a detention all the time and it isn't a big deal?"

"Of- of c-course not Dad, I -" Blaine was trying miserably trying to defend himself, not knowing where to put his hands.

"So this morning when you told me- 'Oh no Dad, I'm only going to drive to school and back today,' - you knew all along that you were going to try to pull a stunt like this? What if you were in an accident, Blaine? Your mother and I wouldn't even know you weren't at school. You could be in the hospital and we wouldn't even know where you were."

Blaine sniffed, refusing to get teary at that very good point. Getting yelled at blew. His voice was quiet. "I'm sorry, I was... trying to help a friend."

"A friend?" Mrs. Anderson asked.

"...at McKinley High School."

Mr. and Mrs. Anderson exchanged glances. This was unexpected.

"Why would you go there?"Mrs Anderson knew that some of the kids from Blaine's middle school went there now but he barely spoke to any of them even when he was in the same class with them two years ago.

Blaine sighed, leaning against the island unhappily. "There's this guy, Kurt. He- he goes there. He- he's like me. I mean, he's gay." Both of Mr. Anderson's eyebrows raised at that. He skipped school to chase boys? Blaine saw the expression and jumped in. "N-n-no it's- not like that. I mean- I just met him a couple days ago."

Mrs. Anderson crossed her arms, unimpressed. Blaine scrambled.

"He's got this bully. Harrassing him."

Mrs. Anderson face softened a bit, listening. Mr. Anderson, on the other hand, was skeptical, waiting for the punchline.

Blaine wrestled his fingers together. Hoping this semi-good excuse would result in leniency. "He's really upset about it, but his family can't afford to go to Dalton or anything. And he asked me to help him... uh, confront him."

"You went to pick a fight with this guy?" Mrs. Anderson was alarmed now.

"N-no. I just..." Blaine was frustrated. "Kurt thinks he's... probably gay too. The bullying's a front. And he thought if he told him he wasn't alone and stuff... that he'd back off. But he wanted... back up."

"He sees him every day before lunch and he's been really upset about this guy. He's been beating him up and taunting him and- just the kind of stuff I sorta went through too. And I never had anyone to..." Blaine trailed off. "He needed someone in his corner."

This was a lot to process. Mr. and Mrs. Anderson looked at each other, not saying anything. Blaine took a breath.

"I know you... have to spend a lot of money on my education now. I'm sorry if I... uh, disrespected that."

Mr. Anderson sat on one of the stools, watching his gittery kid. He wanted to say "Hey, I'm always in your corner Blaine. And Greg and your mom and all of Dalton is too." But he didn't. Rules were rules. But he needed time to calm down before he addressed them.

"It sounds like you may have had some... altruistic... ideas about going to that school today Blaine. But those reasons don't excuse this behavior. You don't have access to your car so you can go places without permission. And you certainly don't have permission to be skipping school."

"Certainly not." Mrs. Anderson chimed in quietly.

"Your mother and I are going to have dinner because she needs to get to her book club. You will eat yours later, after you and I have a serious discussion tonight." Blaine bit his lip, nodding miserably at that. "She and I need to decide your punishments for this..." Again with the plural. Great. Blaine looked at the floor. "...so I think you can spend some time in the corner right now young man."

Blaine looked up quickly at that, appalled. "The -corner, Dad?"

Mr. Anderson nodded firmly. "I'd send you to your room but you've proven today that I can't trust you to go to places where I can't see you."

"Dad, come on, I-"

Mrs. Anderson gave a quick spank to Blaine's backside that shut him up. Speaking gently, she admonished, "You need to listen to your father, Blaine."

Embarrassed, Blaine shuffled off to the corner in the living room where he had once been a rather familiar customer. Like when he was about eight. This day just keeps getting better.