Okay, I'm going to try and make these chapters a lot longer. The other two were just experimental.
"It's not my fault! Ms Irvine is just a bitch, and I can't help it if her clothing choices are poor."
"But you promised you would come! I need something new to wear on my date tonight! Sam's already seen a lot of my clothes, I need something else."
"Mercedes, You're in your cheerios uniform everyday. How could he possibly see all of your other clothes?"
"…I Just need something new to wear, okay Kurt?"
"Next time, I promise, but I have detention for the rest of the week, and coach can't get me out of it this time. She says she's got some massive plan brewing to destroy the dweeb club, and she needs to focus or something."
"Fine." Mercedes replied sourly.
It was Wednesday. Kurt's favourite day of the week. And by favourite he meant the day of the week that he just wants punch everyone he sees in the face.
Wednesday's suck. They're smack bang in the middle of the school week, when everything is boring and seems the same and everyone is starting to get on your nerves, but you don't have the excitement of the weekend to look forwards to because it's still two days away.
Plus, his mother had died on a Wednesday.
Kurt just hated Wednesdays.
So to take his mind off of things, he decided someone needed a slushie. And how about that little nerd from glee club he saw walk past the detention room on Monday after school, look in, and laugh at Kurt's misfortune of ending up there.
Yep. That nerd was going to get it.
Blaine walked out of calculus in a crappy mood. This time next week, He has a French, History, and now calculus test. Plus, he still had to learn all of his choreography for the assembly next week.
He was stressed.
"Hey Blaine, are you alright?" Blaine noticed a concerned Mike Chang looking at him. "You loom tired."
"Yeah, I'm alright Mike, thanks, just got a lot of stuff I need to get done for next week that I'm going to have absolutely no time to do."
"Aw, you'll get through it, no worries, you're one of the smartest guys I know."
"You mean apart from you of course." Blaine said, smiling.
"Of course." Mike replied with a laugh. "Do you want me to get you a coffee or something? Keep you awake?"
"Actually Mike, I could probably use something cold right now."
"How about a slushie?" Came a voice from behind Blaine.
Blaine turned around abruptly, startled at the voice. That was a stupid idea.
Orange ice was thrown into his face, stinging his eyes and freezing his nose.
"Hey!" Mike shouted from behind Blaine, shaking off the bits of ice that landed on himself. "You're not so tough, Hummel. If you didn't go around throwing slushies, anyone in this school could probably beat you up, you're so scrawny and little!"
"You really wanna go there?" Kurt snarked, throwing on his bitch face. "I might not be so tough, but I bet even your whole dweeb club couldn't beat up the whole football team and cheerios."
"That's right Hummel, keep hiding behind your minions. You know, one day, you're going to need us. And that's when we won't be there for you. Come on Blaine, Let's go clean this mess off you." Mike said, dragging an gaping mouthed Blaine, rubbing ice out of his eyes and off his face.
Kurt stood wedged to the spot. No one had ever talked back to him before, and to be honest, he felt a little scared of the Asian who had just towered over him and yelled straight into his face.
"Oh my…what… you…he…" Blaine stuttered.
"Planning on making sense anytime soon buddy?" Mike laughed.
"Sorry, I just can't believe you stood up to that dick."
"Yeah well, you didn't deserve that, and that guy needs hot iron shoved up his ass."
"ha. Yeah." Blaine sniggered. "Uggh, my hair is going to be ruined. AND my shirt."
"Dude, what is up with you and the hair gel anyway? Honestly, you lay it on so thick it might as well be a helmet."
"Hey, I don't have awesome hair like yours, Mike. It's all curly, and gets in my face, and it's just a big mess."
"Whatever."
Blaine heard a beeping noise as he stuck his head under the faucet.
"Crap. Sorry dude, I gotta fly, I was supposed to meet Tina ten minutes ago."
"That's alright. Thanks Mike."
"No worries." Mike replied, already halfway out of the door.
Blaine sighed and looked into the mirror.
No guys ever going to want me now. Not a loser like me. Not with stupid hair and the height of a twelve year old.
Blaine locked himself in one of the stalls and sat on the toilet whilst waiting for his shirt to dry, letting a single tear escape the corner of his right eye.
Kurt strolled into French, a little dazed about what had happened about fifteen minutes ago during lunch.
"Jesus fuck." Kurt mumbled to himself. There, in the front row, was a now wetter version of the loser he had slushied earlier. His hair was all curly and his shirt was splotchy and dark in the wet patches.
The dork, Blaise or Blake or whatever his name was looked up at him, with really sad and tired eyes.
To avoid any embarrassment/awkwardness, Kurt immediately walked to the back of the French classroom, only to be stopped in his tracks by madame Laurent.
"And where do you think you're going, Mr Hummel?"
"To sit down, maybe if you moved out of the way I could do just that, thankyou."
Kurt tried to sidestep her, but the petit woman stepped in front of him yet again.
"Oh no, remember last lesson Mr Hummel? I permanently moved you to the second row."
He had forgotten actually. Just because Kurt was actually so good at French that he could insult people in french, including the teacher, didn't mean that he should be punished for knowing how to speak the language. His mother was actually French, and when he was little, he was taught phrases and words in both English and French. But apparently, knowing how to swear at people in French isn't considered smart, It is just rude, and he had earned himself a permanent seat in the second row.
This meant that he was sitting directly behind the kid he had slushied. How had Kurt not noticed that they were in the same class before?
French was one of Blaine's favourite lessons. He was actually pretty good at understanding and pronouncing words, even though he wasn't French himelf.
"Okay guys, in preparation for our test next week, I want you to pair up with the person next to you and discuss possessive nouns. Yes, in french, miss Pierce"
Kurt looked at the girl next to him. He didn't know what her name was, but he knew he was even more bored than he was and didn't care what he did. So he decided to Play.
"Tu ressembles à un toxicomane qui n'a pas dormi depuis trois jours et achète ses vêtements à partir d'un sans-abri."
Blaine spun around in his chair, cutting off what he was saying to Artie about 'Monica's house that she owns'. If he heard correctly, he had heard Kurt tell this girl that she looks like a drug addict.
Kurt noticed him staring.
"Problem?" He asked sarcastically.
"N-no." Blaine stammered before spinning back towards the front.
That's what I thought, Kurt said to himself.