CHAPTER NINE

He freezes and the pushes himself against the door to a classroom. He's not as early as yesterday, thinking it's slightly safer after his success of avoidance yesterday. He knows he has to face him, but he just wants a little more time to prepare himself. He peeks his head around the row of lockers, watches as Blaine writes something, awkwardly pressing on his thigh before slipping a piece of paper in to his locker. He fully expects Blaine to look up at any second, see him and call out. Except he doesn't. He seems distracted, his forehead furrowed with worry lines and he wanders off, clearly not paying attention to his surroundings.

He waits. Waits a good five minutes before he feels brave enough to move again. He opens his locker, and the piece of paper flutters to the floor. He doesn't need to know what it says, can take a fairly good guess, so he just picks it up and crumples it into a ball, throwing it into the nearest trash can. He gathers his books and walks to his homeroom, like yesterday he seems to have faded out from the notice of the other students.

He takes a head down approach, focuses solely on his classes and getting through the morning. His dad had been more than okay with him coming home at lunch time, had also broached the subject that maybe he could get some therapy. He doesn't want to talk about it, but his feelings about that might change. At least his dad has dropped the whole pressing charges, because then everyone would know, and he'll never be ready for that. Ever.

He's never noticed before how many people touch him accidentally during the day, and he knows he's super aware of it but he moves carefully, positioning himself so that he can glide between bodies. He sits down beside Rachel in their English class and she turns to him, looking concerned.

"Have you seen Blaine? He looks terrible. Maybe he's got the same bug you went home with yesterday. You still look sick yourself, should you even be at school today? I can always tell when you're under the weather, you become miserable."

It's said as a throw away comment but his stomach clenches. He doesn't care about how Blaine looks. And he doesn't care how he looks. He doesn't respond to Rachel and she sniffs, clearly annoyed, because he hadn't wanted to listen to her yesterday either, when she'd wanted to talk about Finn. Class lets out and he heads to lunch. He knows it's safe today, Blaine's lunch period is after his, there is only a fifteen minute period where it overlaps.

Of course his luck disappears as he heads to the gym and he hears his name being called, knows it is Blaine calling out to him but he can't handle this right now. He starts walking faster. He doesn't want to break into an all-our sprint, because that would draw more attention than he wants, but he will do it if he has to, if it means getting away. He hears Blaine call out 'stop' and it makes a surge of anger flood through him. Stop? He should stop? He feels something brush his arm and he whirls around, suddenly furious.

"Do not touch me." He interjects as much venom as possible. Blaine has lost all rights to touch him, to even be near him. He has no idea what he's going to do at practice tomorrow, but that's another day. He needs to deal with the now. Blaine is talking, saying he needs to talk to him and he bites out an answer. He bites out all his answers, tight and in control but then Blaine says something unforgiveable, on top of everything he has already done.

"Don't you think you're maybe over reacting just a bit?"

He feels his eyes go wide and he's furious. He just lets go, lets every bit of anger and frustration and fear that's been festering away inside of him for the last two and a half days flood out, and he rages. He doesn't care who hears him, but he knows his voice is lower than usual, almost hissing out, but it's still loud, but the blood rushing in his ears drowns it out. When he's finished yelling, and it was definitely yelling at the end, he barely notes the utterly gob smacked expression on Blaine's face before he turns and walks away, back straight and his pace controlled.

He can't even remember what he has just said, but there are a few people staring at him with wide eyes and the rushing in his ears increases. Oh shit. All he wants to do is break into a sprint and get away. As far away as possible. He runs then, and he doesn't care if he's pushing past people, causing even more people to stare at him and he throws open a bathroom door and then sinks to the floor in a cubicle, throwing up the small amount he'd managed to eat at breakfast.

"Let me guess, you're pregnant," Santana states, lips smacking together with the gloss she's just applied. He'd barely noticed her presence, but he looks up at her. He's shaking, the adrenaline of facing Blaine wearing off fast and he feels the tears starting to well up and over. He feels awful. He clearly looks as bad as he feels because Santana drops to a crouch beside him, suddenly concerned.

"What happened? Who do I need to hurt?"

The temptation to sic Santana on Blaine is huge, to have him running scared, because Santana can be terrifying when you're on her bad side. And despite the fact that they're in opposing glee clubs right now is clearly not an issue. He throws up again and he can't believe he's falling to pieces again, is so frustrated that he simply can't hold it together to get through just one whole day. He looks up again and Santana is thumbing her phone furiously and damn, he's pretty sure she's just called for reinforcements. Terrific.

He stands on shaky legs, tries his best not to think about the fact that he was just sitting on the floor in a school bathroom, and at least in the girls restroom there's less likely to be pee on the floor, but still… his mind shuts down. He doesn't need those thoughts on top of everything else right now and he washes his hands several times before rinsing his mouth and then patting his face with some wet hand towels that Santana holds out for him.

When the door opens he stiffens, prepared for more questions about what he's doing in the girls bathroom, or worse questions if they heard what he was yelling at Blaine. Except none of them come, it's Brittany, followed by Mercedes. Rachel is thankfully absent, because her histrionics right now is the last thing he needs and he realizes then that of course Rachel wouldn't be included, these are all members of the Troubletones. He almost sags in relief, but the serious look on both Santana and Mercedes' faces stops him. He's going to have to tell them, the thought both terrifies him and fills him with the sick-fluttery anxiety he felt just before he came out to his dad.

"Come on, we're skipping class," Santana informs them, and Mercedes mouth snaps shut mid-objection.

He's dragged to the auditorium, up the back into a dark little section which is secluded and quiet. There's a clear view of the stage and he can see some drama students painting pieces for a set. They're all quiet for a moment and then he feels Mercedes wrap an arm around him. He doesn't mind her touching him, or Santana when she awkwardly pats his leg.

"I heard what you yelled at Blaine… what happened?"

"Blaine?" Santana asks, and her eyes narrow.

He swallows, forcing away the tightness in his throat and starts talking. He talks about the little things first, what he was wearing, his stupid fake ID, Sebastian. His voice breaks when he says he doesn't even know how Blaine got on top of him in the first place. He hears Mercedes gasp as if she's standing at the end of a long tunnel and he details more of what happened. When he finishes he's being crushed by three pairs of arms and he feels a bit better. He feels less alone.