Blaine came back downstairs a half hour later with the second load of laundry. His mother was cleaning up the dinner plates. To his relief, Dad was nowhere in sight.

"Oh, here, Blaine. Your... sweater." she said, adding it to the pile.

"Oh right, thanks Mom." he said, his voice muffled behind all that laundry. Mrs. Anderson watched as he went downstairs to the basement. Things were a lot more cut and dry when he was little, she mused. She hoped they were doing right by him, and that even if Blaine hated all his rules now he'd appreciate them when he got older.

After putting the clothes from the washer into the dryer, Blaine picked up the sweater at the top of the new pile. In their ongoing war over laundry, his mom was always hassling him about everything being inside out. Which was stupid, in his opinion. It wasn't like it made a difference how clean the clothes got or anything. Sighing, he pulled the left sleeve in and righted the sweater, but suddenly stopped when he noticed...

Oh my God.

The sleeve reeked of beer. Could his clothes really still smell like this a day later? What the hell-? Blaine shot a nervous glance to the basement stairs. Did his mother know?

His mind flashed back to the moment he'd fallen after singing karoke. He'd been laughing hysterically and rolled over, when he'd felt something very cold and wet up his arm. Someone must have spilled about half a beer because it was soaking his sleeve through. He'd thought it was funny at the time, and had hobbled up, shaking his arm as the alcohol dripped from it.

"Rachel you owe me a new sweaterrrrrr..." he'd said.

Kurt, mortified, came up behind him at that point, saying, "Okay, maybe it's about time we got you home."

"Oh no, it's okay, I meant to tell you- I called my dad and he said I could sleepover."

Kurt was a little caught off guard by this revelation and didn't know what to say. Truth be told he'd had a fantasy or two about Blaine being in his bedroom at night but...

"Well that's good dude," Finn laughed, interrupting. "Cuz there's no way we're letting you drive home tonight."

Blaine had laughed at that, his head swimming. "Nooooo... that would be kinda a bad ideaaaa."

Thinking about it now, Blaine felt pretty embarrassed. Everyone else had been drunk though, so he prayed none of Kurt's friends thought he was an idiot. Maybe they wouldn't even remember. He couldn't believe he'd fallen asleep still wearing that cardigan. How Kurt ever fell asleep with that stench next to him was a mystery. That thought sort of made him laugh. First time he could technically say he'd slept in a bed with another boy, and he didn't even remember it. Thank God Kurt's cool.

Putting the cardigan in the washer at last, Blaine reassured himself. There was no way his parents knew. The only reason he'd even noticed is that he was doing laundry- they'd never guess he'd lie to them like that. He'd been so careful. Blaine sighed. It wasn't like he enjoyed lying to his parents. He really didn't do it very often, partially because he always knew he'd get a spanking for it if they found out. There was nothing Mom and Dad got madder about than lying. But he also didn't like having to walk around feeling guilty about it. And worrying about getting caught was never a picnic either.

Blaine walked a little slower on his way up the basement stairs than he had gone down them. When he got up to the kitchen, his mother was still there, making tea. He wondered how the Buckeyes had done today and was surprised his dad wasn't watching ESPN.

"Is Dad in his den?" Blaine asked.

"Your father went for a walk."

A walk? It's like 40 degrees outside. He only goes for a walk when he... needs to blow off steam.

"Oh. ...Mom is he still mad about the laundry?"

Rosalie looked at her son, considering what to say. "Well I'm sure he's... disappointed that he can't trust you to do what you're supposed to do."

Ugh.

Blaine hated it when his parents talked about being disappointed in him. It was the worst thing they could say.

"But Mom, he can trust me, I just- I got lazy, I said I was sorry- I don't know what he wants. I'll do better."

Mrs. Anderson nodded, pouring out her tea. "I think you'd better get back on upstairs. Your father'll be up later to discuss things with you."

"H-he will? Why?"

Now Blaine was nervous. Maybe they did know about the beer. Maybe they had called Kurt's family and knew he hadn't gone to the movies. Oh God what else could there be to discuss?

Mrs. Anderson shrugged. "It's between you and him, Blaine. Your father has always been... very reasonable, as long as you and your brother were honest with him." And with that she walked into the living room.

Blaine watched after her. Probably he was overreacting and his dad just wanted to lecture him on responsibility, maybe hold his allowance over his head over this stupid laundry business. There was no reason to believe that his parents knew he had lied about last night. If they knew, they would have already said so, right? But what did Mom mean, that he just had to be honest? He hadn't lied about the laundry. He'd just been an idiot and fallen asleep when he was supposed to be doing it.

Walking up the stairs, the weight of all the lies he'd told started to press on him. Dad was "disappointed," she'd said.

Man if Dad's disappointed in me now, I don't want to know what he'd have been if he'd seen me last night. This sucks.