(A/N): Hey guys! Happy Thursday!

I've had this chapter written up for quite a while now, so I'm glad I finally get to post it. Geez, it's been harder to sit on these completed chapters than I'd thought. XD

Okay. And sorry if there are some mistakes. I checked it today but I'm also very sick and dizzy so I couldn't sit upright for too long. Still don't know what's up. I went to the doc yesterday, but they haven't told us anything yet. I had to get blood drawn for the first time, though. *shudders*

Sorry, on with the story!

**UPDATED**

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, or there would be more Klaine.

Chapter 3:

Dalton

-:-Blaine-:-

Now that I had noticed Kurt, it was as if I was seeing him everywhere. In the halls, in the cafeteria, even in some of my classes. I don't understand how I had just never noticed him. Dalton doesn't get mid-semester transfers all that often—there's no way I could have missed it, missed him. It was like his image was seared into my brain, and I could pick him out of a crowd at whim.

I also noticed the absence of that determination he had while he danced. Or, more accurately, the timid look of fear and wariness. Sometimes, though, it was worse than just fear or worry. It was blank, expressionless.

I noted quite a few things about him, actually. It seemed he was all that was on my mind, and I could do nothing but let my eyes scan the room for him, searching out that perfectly coiffed chestnut brown hair, the sparkling eyes, the graceful way in which he moved. This newfound obsession sat awkwardly in my chest, like the feeling you get when good intentions just barely outweigh the risks and consequences.

It seemed to me that Kurt was lonely. He didn't really seem to have that many friends, if any at all. He sat alone at lunch, curled up with a book or simply staring off into space. The food he purchased sat untouched on the tabletop more often than not.

I saw, on that first day after the dance studio, the recognition in his eyes when he saw me in the hallways. But he made no move to talk to me, or to contact or acknowledge me in any way. I was shocked to feel the sharp pang of hurt in my chest, confused both as to why I was hurt in the first place and why I wanted nothing more than to just talk to him.

So I figured I would take the situation into my own hands.

I went through the lunch line quickly, grabbing my lunch without paying much attention to what it actually was. I stood awkwardly behind him for a second before I spoke up.

"Do you mind if I sit here?"

He spun to face me, surprise evident on his face. "Uh, no, I guess. I-I mean, if you want."

I smiled and set my tray down, pressing down that weird and sudden urge I had to hear his voice again. I dug through my mind for something to talk about. I blinked as I realize I don't know much about him when I came up blank. Well, we'll have to change that, won't we? I settled on the one thing I did know about the boy sitting in front of me.

"So how long have you been dancing for? You're really good."

He shrugged his shoulders a bit, drawing his knees up to his chest and resting his arms atop them. "Since I was really young." He paused for a second. "And according to the Hawk," I giggled quietly at the nickname the dance team had pegged her with, "I'm nothing but mediocre."

"You can't seriously think that?" I exclaimed, shaking my head in confusion. Kurt jumped a little. "I've never met anyone who can move like you."

Before I could fully comprehend how creepy that was, Kurt blushed and wrung his hands. "Well, um… thanks," he mumbled, smiling at me tentatively.

Conversation flowed a bit easier from there, though it was still mostly one-sided. We talked about generic things; Dalton, the coursework, the pain of gym class, music.

I found out that Kurt was into show tunes. That was something. I took that and ran with it. "Favorite musical?" I questioned.

"Wicked. Or Rent. I could never decide."

"Do you sing?"

He nods.

It was the start of a wonderful friendship.

-:-Kurt-:-

I was in shock the rest of the day. Blaine Anderson actually sat with me at lunch. What the hell? People like him didn't come near people like me.

But he did.

A foreign feeling of hope stirred in my stomach. Or was it more like longing—longing for a friend? And though the thought made me cringe, I couldn't deny its truth and I didn't let it go any farther. I'm not lonely, I keep to myself. For the good of me and others.

Blaine sat at lunch with me every day after that. Once he even dragged me to the table he usually sat at: the Warblers table. I felt a bit left out; I could barely consider myself a part of a glee club I was actually in, let alone this tight-knit group of long-time friends. I felt like a foreigner now more than ever.

But it made me think I wanted to be—a Warbler, a friend, whatever. Wanting that sense of inclusion that I really only felt with Mercedes, Santana and Brittany. One based in mutual understanding and respect. And I think that was his plan. To make me think I deserved it when I obviously didn't. He was petitioning for me to join the Warblers ever since I let spill that I liked to sing. I never even said if I was any good. And still, he persisted.

I didn't know what to feel about that, about someone else having any interest in me or my interests. I loved having someone there for me to talk to, someone who was like me, but at the same time I wished he would leave me be and let me be a loner. I was used to being alone. I knew how to. My brain was all messed up, but I knew Blaine didn't deserve to be subjected to this, to me.

One day at lunch, our conversation took a sudden twist.

"You transferred here mid-semester, Kurt, right? What school did you go to?"

I hesitated. Why did he want to know? Was he trying to—No. He was just curious. Calm yourself, Kurt. "McKinley," I finally answered, more softly than I had wanted due to the clenching hold of the sudden flare of panic in my throat.

"Ah, public school," Blaine sighed with a tight smile on his face. "Brings out the worst in people."

"What do you mean?" I asked slowly, my heart beginning to pound again as the threat of losing my only friend here because of where I went to school reared its head.

"You know, it forms a sort of hierarchy between the kids. All of it is just… fueled by hormones, and—you know, I'm not saying we don't have any of that here—but you get a situation where the jocks and cheerleaders and the ones up top think they're all that and they can do whatever they want, even if what they want is hurting other people." My eyes followed his hands and they made little gestures, illustrating his point.

I nodded understandingly, the slightly hysterical laugh bubbling up in my throat dying away as my mind flashes to images of Karofsky and the feel of the hard, cold metal of lockers on my back and the stench of a full dumpster filling my nose. "Tell me about it."

Blaine looked towards me with an odd look in his eyes. "Were… were you bullied, Kurt?"

I swallowed thickly, my mouth suddenly dry. My mind was racing, bouncing between configuring a lie or telling the truth before landing on the words of my father instead.

"Why the hell should I use the money I earned to pay for a new school for you? Just to get you away from some guys who are trying to knock some sense into ya?"

"Because, Burt! Don't you want me out of here someday? Better high school diploma, the farther away I go."

"A bit." My answers were taking a while to get out today, and I'm sure Blaine noticed. But he didn't say anything, for which I was grateful. I wouldn't have been able to construct a suitable excuse anyways. I huffed out a shaky breath and rubbed my hand across the back of my neck.

"Don't worry." He turned his gaze to meet mine. I briefly wondered what color could make a shade of grey look that beautiful. "I was, too."

My head cocked to side a bit. I wanted to ask why, but surely he would expect an answer from me, and there was no way I was going to scare off my only friend because—

"Because I'm gay."

I cleared my throat, averting my gaze. His damn eyes were distracting me. But I had to answer; I know from experience that any length of silence after a confession like that could be taken the wrong way. "Me, too." The words popped out before I could stop them.

A new look washed over his features. I couldn't tell what it was—relief? Confusion? Sympathy?

"Then you understand."

Yes, yes I do. I thought, and nodded slowly. Before I could get too far gone in my own head, Blaine spoke up again.

"It's nice to have a friend to talk to about this kind of stuff with now. I mean, Wes and David and them are great, but they don't really… get it, you know?"

Yes, I did. It was the reason I only had three friends. It was the reason getting out of McKinley was so easy—why I needed to in the first place.

"This is just perfect, Kurt. You're perfect."

Oh, am I?

Preview of Chapter 4: Perfect…

I stood in my room silently after I had cleaned myself up. My head was no longer bleeding, and the extensive bruising that besieged my body was either masked or hidden easily by clothing.

I never knew how to feel after an episode like this. Was I supposed to be angry? Upset? Because I wasn't. The only emotion I could muster was remorse.

(A/N): Love? Hate? Let me know your thoughts!

Oh, and would you like it if I keep putting those little preview things? Let me know on that as well.

Next chapter is kind of the last of the 'set-up' chapters. It lies down the last chunk of foundation for this story.

Here are some questions I've been asked by EllaCrain:

Is Burt married to Carole?

No. Burt was married to Kurt's mother, Elizabeth, until she died. The rest of the relationships, especially with ND, will be explained later.

At the beginning [of Chapter 2] when Kurt says they fight about his sexuality and other things, is that just normal teenage angst or is Burt not as accepting as in the show?

No again. It's not just teenage angst, though it may play a part. My Burt is not as accepting as the Burt we all know and love. It'll be explained with more detail soon. :)

If you have any other questions or concerns, feel free to let me know and I'll do my best to answer/fix them.

Until next time!

~DFTBA and Best Wishes!