A/N: I know I said I was going to await feedback before posting more, but I decided I need to continue anyway. Dave is making a lot of noise in my head. If anyone wants to read the poem Dave wrote in its entirety check out my one-shot "Gone, Though Not Forgotten". From here on out things are going to be purely fanon. I want Dave to behave a certain way and if canon Dave isn't going to (we shall see) then fanon Dave most certainly is.
Chapter 2: Wait a minute, Mr. Postman!
"David? David, are you in there?" I hear my mom calling me, but I just want to be left alone. I know, though, that if I don't answer her she'll never go away. "Yeah, mom, I'm in here. What do you need?" "I'm going to run to the post office in a few minutes. Is there anything you want me to mail for you?" Suddenly I feel like a deer caught in headlights. My mom never asks me that, so why would she now? Of course there is something I want to mail, but wanting to and actually doing it are two entirely different things. "No mom. I never mail stuff, why are you asking me that?" "Well David, I thought I saw you putting a letter in an envelope the other day when I came in to put away your laundry. I thought maybe you wanted to mail it." Oh crap! I thought I got that put away before she saw it! Now I am really starting to sweat. I need to come up with an answer, fast. "Oh that. Ummm, that was just something for school. It's not ready to be mailed yet." Oh please, please don't let her ask me what it is…. "What is it you're working on?" Dammit, I never catch a break! Now what? "It's just a letter to a pen pal." A freaking pen pal? What am I, seven? "I have to have it proof read by the teacher before I can send it because of my recent, uh, issues." This is getting worse by the minute. "Oh. Okay then. I'll be back in about a half an hour." I can't believe she actually bought that, but I am really relieved she did. Sometimes she can be so easy to fool!
Now that I have a little bit of time to myself I can take out the poem I wrote and read it again. No matter how many times I read it, it is always exactly right. I am surprised (and somewhat impressed with myself, if I do say so) by how well it says what I feel. I think if Kurt ever read it he might totally freak out, but there is still a part of me that wants him to (there is a much bigger part of me that still can't let him). I would never admit this to anyone, but I have actually been sneaking around at school trying to catch little bits of information about Kurt from his former Glee club pals. Mostly I am trying to find out where he went. I am not actually supposed to know, that is part of the deal with me being allowed to return to school. It is really maddening how tight-lipped those loud mouth Glee club freaks can be. For people who never shut up they just won't give away anything!
XXX
I see my shrink once a week. We talk about how things are going at school and at home, and she tries to get me to talk about Kurt and why I was so awful to him. I told her it was because I couldn't stand little lady boy homos, but it didn't even sound true to my ears. She is not as easy to fool as my mom is. My shrink doesn't push me to talk about it; I guess she figures I will when I am ready. That will probably be never. As far as home and school go, my grades are coming back up and I haven't been acting so angry, so she believes it is true when I tell her things are better. Most of it is an act to get people off my back. I go to school and football practice, I do my homework and I don't talk back to my parents. They think this is a sign of great improvement, but what they don't get at all is that it is really just me going through the motions, feeling dead inside. Or so I think.
XXX
Friday was a particularly long day at school. The football team was really slacking, and coach made us run a ton of extra laps. By the time I got home all I wanted to do was eat dinner and collapse into bed. I decided to read my poem before I went to sleep, I really needed it. I needed to feel a connection to Kurt. I guess I was really tired, because when I woke up Saturday morning the poem was lying open on top of my chest, my fingers still gently curled around it. I panicked for a minute, and then saw that my door was closed, just the way I always keep it, so I put the poem back in the envelope and into the drawer by my bed, underneath all the junk in there.
I went to the kitchen to eat breakfast with my dad, a Saturday morning ritual we have had for as long as I can remember. This particular Saturday, though, my dad was looking at me kind of strangely. He had a confused/worried sort of look on his face. Sitting down to eat, I tried to brush it off as nothing, but the way he was just sitting there looking at me was starting to creep me out. "Dad, Is everything okay?" He looked at me a little longer. "I don't know David. Is everything okay?" Uh oh, I can't think of anything I did wrong, so I just stay quiet. "I popped my head into your room last night to ask you a question, but you were already asleep." Oh my gosh. NO NO NO! He saw it! He saw the poem. How could I be so careless and stupid? He must have read it, or he wouldn't be looking at me like that. Maybe he'll think someone wrote it to me. Crap, I signed it! I put D.K. at the bottom. Why did I do that? "David?" My tongue suddenly feels like it has grown three sizes too big for my mouth. "I couldn't help noticing what you were holding. I've been worried about you, so I took a closer look. Is there something you need to tell me?" I could not think of a single thing to say, so I just covered my face and started crying like a little kid.