Author's note: Thanks for all the lovely reviews and alerts. For those that might be a bit confused about the timing/timeline of this, the first three chapters cover the same block of time (roughly), same with the next block of three chapters. It means if you read chapters 3, 6, 9 etc. you would have a story of solely Kurt's POV.

CHAPTER EIGHT

He sits down at the table containing most of the hockey team. Some of them are also on the football team, and he gets the usual nods of greeting. Yesterday he'd sat with the math geeks again, spending the time partaking in races to complete logic puzzles. He'd won a good third of the time, which continues to astound the other math geeks, but amuses him to no end.

"Why do you sit with the geeks anyway?"

He's halfway through his burger containing meat of dubious origins and he shrugs, he's been asked before, and he's explained it to each person who's asked, except he's never been asked in a public forum before. He can tell a few of the others are listening, waiting for his answer, and he knows he has to tread carefully.

"I…I got suspended from my last school for bullying. I promised my dad I wouldn't do it again, and he…suggested I got to know the other kids, because it's harder to make fun of people you know and actually kind of like…They're pretty cool to hang out with actually."

Of course, his dad suggested nothing of the sort, and he's done it completely of his own bat, figuring it made sense. The other team mates are shrugging and murmuring, and he lets out a little sigh of relief but then Grant jabs him in the ribs and waggles his eyebrows.

"Whatever works for you bro, 'cause little Honey Willows has been eyeing you up all lunch break…"

"What?"

He turns his body to where Grant is indicating his head and sure enough one of the girls at the cheerleader-filled table smiles and gives him a little wave. Oh fuck. He turns back to face the other guys and he knows he's blushing, probably not for the reason they think, but it doesn't matter. They all start making rude comments and telling him to go get some and fucking hell, the one time he doesn't need or want a girl interested in him and apparently he's suddenly hot property? What the hell?

He's wondering if he can avoid her, go and return his lunch tray and try and be all stealth-ninja like and slip past her. Avoid. Avoid. Avoid. No such luck. She practically ambushes him when he turns from getting rid of his tray, popping up in front of him and he can see the guys bumping fists at the table. He's going to have to do this, he's really going to have to do this. He just wishes he knew what this was.

"Dave right? I'm Honey." She's small, petite and smiling widely. Friendly looking.

"Uh, yeah. Hi," he replies, and he doesn't want to say her name, it's a freaking term of endearment. What were her parents thinking?

"Walk me to my next class?"

There's still thirty minutes left of the lunch break and his eyes go wide. He has no idea what she wants. Thirty minutes is a long time and he's not making out with a girl again, not after Brittany in Sophomore year, and not the fake kisses Santana forced on him as a cover up last year. And he's been trying so hard to be honest with himself, honest with his family… His heart has started beating double time, his palms sweaty and he's not ready to come out at school, but he can't go out with a girl, it's a step backwards.

"Uh, okay."

"Great! Come on, we can grab our jackets and walk around the track…"

"Oh, okay." He's not sure what he'd been expecting, but he can work with this. There won't be a lot of people outside, maybe me can let her down gently. Or something. They gather their jackets and he holds the door open to the outside for her and she grins up at him. Fuck. Maybe if he acted like a complete jerk she wouldn't be interested, but he doesn't want to go back to that. It's not who he wants to be.

"So, I was wondering if you'd be interested in going to a movie sometime?"

He freezes. Stall. Stall Stall. She's looking at him hopefully, expectantly, and his mind and heart are racing. He feels like he's walking a tightrope, balancing precariously over a canyon and is going to plummet to his death any second now if he says the wrong thing.

"Look, um…I'd love to, but…I just don't want to…uh, lead you on or anything. I'm really not looking for a girlfriend right now." Or ever.

"Oh. Really?" She looks disappointed and he nods. "Well. That's okay. I still think I'd like to get to know you better. I mean, you seem pretty cool, hanging out with all the different groups at lunchtime. I kind of like it, that you don't follow the crowd. Do your own thing. You seem way more mature than some of the other jocks."

Dave looks to the side, then his other side, because he feels like he's suddenly being set up. Going to be the butt of a massive practical joke.

"I'm not. Trust me…I just, have reasons to try and be more mature."

He ends up filling her in on the same abbreviated story he's just told his teammates and she's nodding and looking serious. He adds in a bit about needing to focus on his school work, just to cover his bases. They're halfway around the track, both huddled into their jackets.

"That's really great. But you must have fun sometimes right?"

"Uh…" He's pretty sure that admitting that he goes to Scandals and hangs out there, when he needs to remind himself he isn't alone and he will be able to stop hiding one day soon can be classified as fun. "Yeah. Occasionally. Sure."

"Well then. How does Friday suit you. We can watch a movie on Netflix and eat pizza. Not a date. Just as friends. How about you invite a couple of other people. Just friends."

He can't think of any plausible reason to say no, so he agrees reluctantly, although her enthusiasm is almost contagious. He's already trying to think of subtle ways to sabotage the evening though, wondering who he could invite to ensure she never wants to see him again. He'd invite Az, but he's pretty pissed at him about the whole transfer thing at the last minute, and he's pretty sure Az suspects something is up.

He gets home and Claire is in the kitchen, already cooking and steaming vegetables. He'd offer to help, except he set the oven on fire last time he stepped foot in the kitchen, his packet brownie mix overflowing the tin and creating a charred black mess that had filled the house with noxious black smoke. He'd just wanted a snack.

Claire passes him a glass of water and a piece of cake. Tuesday is her baking day, her stay at home alone and do whatever the hell I want day, which she'd informed Dave was crucial to her sanity. He's not complaining. It means cake. This time it's chocolate, although there are suspicious looking green bits in there and he wouldn't put it past her to have snuck vegetables in.

"So uh… I might have a date. I think. I…don't know."

"With a boy?" Claire's eyebrows shoot up and he shakes his head emphatically.

"No. A girl. But I told her that I wasn't interested in dating, or having a girlfriend, but she just kind of…pushed me into watching a movie and getting pizza on Friday night. Not going out, just hanging out at home. And to invite other friends. What do I do?"

"Dave, have you considered she might just want to be your friend? Boys and girls are allowed to just be friends you know," she winks at him and Dave rolls his eyes. "If you've been upfront with her then that's all you can do. Just be consistent. Don't lead her on."

"Isn't having pizza and watching a movie kind of like a date though?"

"Yes and no. It's what you make it Dave. Just… make it not a date."

Dave frowns. He's never really been on a date, so how does he make something not a date? He groans. When did his life get so confusing?