The days passed on, a parade of sticky hot interminability. The entire state of Ohio suffered through a record string of century-mark temperatures starting in July, and the few times that Blaine ventured outside, the oppressive sun baked him into oblivion. Ellie didn't tolerate heat very well; she had gone out to run errands one day and returned home while in the throes of heat exhaustion. Blaine made sure that Gramma was taking her nap, then he practically shoved Ellie into her bathroom to take a cool shower. After she recovered a bit, Ellie insisted that Blaine has grocery duty now.

Gramma wanted dreamsicles and bacon. Ellie wanted some more eggs. Blaine wanted orange juice and maybe granola for his yogurt. He put off grocery shopping until 9 pm, after the air felt tolerable. By this time, the 24 hour Kroger across town had been buzzing again with activity; junebugs and cicadas serenaded the slightly groggy shoppers as they hunted for milk and bread.

Blaine lucked out on a parking spot near the exit; he pulled in and cut off the engine to the car.

Quickly, he darted into the sliding doors in search of cold, deliciously cold food. Blaine followed one shopper down the canned vegetables aisle, a shortcut to eggs and juices, unconsciously humming. The shopper whipped his cart around to face Blaine, his face hinting at pleasure.

"What the fuck, Blaine! How're ya doing? I haven't seen you since-"

"A couple of years ago, I know." The young man in front of Blaine straightened the hem of his t-shirt, a move halfway between nervous and nonchalant.

"You look, uh, good." Blaine ran his hand through his hair, abashed.

"Yeah, you too, Jer." Jerry smiled slightly, his multicolored whiskers twitching. Currently, Jerry's hair was dyed blond with a blue streak, while his wispy beard grew in brown, red, and black hairs all swirled together. He had grown taller, too; he may not reach the heights of Finn Hudson, but he stood about three or four inches taller than Blaine. Dressed like any teen boy in the middle of a heat wave, he wore blue basketball shorts and soccer slides with a white t-shirt. Jerry adjusted his glasses.

"What's with the hair?"

"I got bored. What's with yours?"

"I, well, it's too damn hot right now so I'm letting it air dry. I didn't expect to see you here, or anywhere, since what happened after the dance-"

"You thought I moved away, ran away to private school like you did. No, while you were busy charming those prep school pricks, I stayed and tried to fight back. I got this limp-" he gestured to his leg, "about three weeks after the dance, when Stew and Eric found out you weren't coming back."

"Jer, I'm sorry, but-"

"But what, Blaine? Do you honestly think that Stew and his cronies wouldn't've beaten the shit out of you again because you 'turned the other cheek'? They didn't even think we were dating, and they still beat my kneecap in." Jerry flushed with anger, his grip tightening on the cart filled with pop and chips.

Blaine looked up, his expression a mixture of shame, pity, and regret. "I thought you transferred out, too."

"I did, but those McKinley dickheads were just the same. They'd throw slushies in their victims' faces. Stupid, right? But there were a few guys-"

"Azimio and Karofsky?"

"Yeah, them. Those two loved the locker check. As a band member, I'd get hit more often, but A/V and the glee club were the main targets. After both me and my mom reported the 'harassment' and the 'hostile learning environment' to the principal, he blew us off. Then she pulled me out for homeschooling in junior year." Jerry suddenly looked confused. "Wait, how do you know about Karofsky?"

Blaine didn't know how to answer him. He barely knew Jerry before they decided to go to the spring Sadie Hawkins dance together. In a rare act of spontaneous bravado, brought on by spiked punch, Blaine brought Jerry to the dance floor during some Rihanna song, not to slow dance but to show off his spectacular sprinkler impression. They made sure to dance with girls during the ballads, casting giddy looks to each other over their partners' shoulders. They thought that they were discreet.

They tried not to act "too gay" lest the idiot jocks drag them outside to punch and kick their way around every inch of their cowering bodies. Unfortunately, Stew, Eric, and five of their crew did just that, complete with a videographic reminder and a personal souvenir of the night: matching slashes along each boy's abdomen. Next thing Blaine knows, he's waking up in the hospital with his leg in a cast and stitches in his side.

He hadn't talked to Jerry since that night, going as far as deleting his old Facebook so that Eric wouldn't spam his wall. Obviously, Blaine and Jerry had unresolved issues leftover from their microseconds long relationship.

Blaine started swaying in place, the blood draining from his face. Woozy, he had to fight the urge to vomit next to the green beans. "I hear things. Look, we should catch up, but not when I'm about to pass out. So, where and when?"

Jerry was still caught off-guard. He pointed to the contents of his cart. "I'm having a party tomorrow. Mom told me to be more outgoing, and I found her liquor cabinet key. You wanna come?"

Blaine slowly nodded. "Do you live in the same place? I think we studied at your house one time, or was that my house?"

"Dude, I'll just text you the directions." Jerry scribbled something on a slip of paper. "Here's my number. See you there." He shook Blaine's hand and turned around the corner.

Blaine blinked. How will he be able to get out of the night shift for Gramma tomorrow? Ellie will have been up with her for 24 hours straight and that's not fair to her. But Kurt did want me to reach out, he thought. It's not Jerry will invite a bunch of jerks like Stew or Karofsky over, and if no one at the party wanted to listen, he could act like he's on stage. As long as he stays away from the liquor, he could probably avoid the showface part of his stage persona.

He wobbled over to the juice, remembering that he needed to get ice cream too. A new thought occurred to him. Jerry had gone to McKinley for sophomore year and was in band. Did he know any of the New Directions members? Was he in New Directions? What if he knew Kurt? Could he have had a crush on Kurt? His heart raced anxiously. Breathing heavily, he finished up shopping, spending way too much time standing in front of the freezers.