Before Gabriel Anderson had gone out, he had gone onto the Dalton website in his den. There was a link on the site for parents where, with a password, he could get access to the student directory. He found the listing and wrote down the home number. Folding it up in his jacket pocket, he called out to Rosalie. "I need a walk."

Mrs. Anderson nodded from the kitchen entryway. "It's cold out."

"I'll be alright." Mr. Anderson grabbed a sock hat and headed out. The neighborhood was quiet. Of course it was. It was 7:30 at night in Ohio in the middle of winter. But there was something lovely about the snow blanketing all the houses. The air was crisp, but it was what he needed right now. The neighbor kids had been sledding all afternoon, and there was a plastic blue sled next to an unspoken for glove in front of the house on the corner. The sight made Mr. Anderson nostalgic. When his boys were little they would beg for him to take them sledding at the first sight of snow. Back then he was the only breadwinner, and his time was at a premium, but he always made time on a weekend to take them down the road to the hills at Forest Park if he could. "Those are the best hills," Greg used to say with youthful seriousness as he lectured his adoring little brother on the important things to know about winter. It was clear, even then, that Blaine wanted to be Greg when he grew up. Gabe used to take the boys around the long way back just because it was funny to listen to Greg babble on with authority. Gabe's favorite though, was riding with Blaine from the top of the park's highest hill, because he would squeal the whole way down. Every time. It was his favorite sound in the world.

Pausing at the corner, he sighed. It was a lot more fun to be the dad who went sledding than to be the dad who had to track down his kid's lies. He took out his cell phone and the folded piece of paper.

"Hello?" it was a teenage voice.

"Uh yes, um- is this Kurt?"

"No this is Finn, you need Kurt?"

"Oh- no. Are your parents home?"

"BURT! Phone!" Mr. Anderson jumped at the yell in his ear. It was just the way Greg used to call for people on the phone and it drove him crazy.

"Jeez Finn. Who is it?" a man's voice was heard in the background.

"I dunno." came Finn's reply. Mr. Anderson smirked. There was something a little gratifying in hearing someone else's kid be exasperating.

"Hello?"

"Yes, is this Mr. Hummel?" It was Hummel, right? Now he couldn't remember for sure.

"Yes, this is Burt Hummel."

"Great. Uh, my name's Gabriel Anderson. I don't think you and I've met before, but my son Blaine goes to school with Kurt at Dalton."

"Oh. Yes of course. Uh, Blaine's a... nice kid."

"Well thank you for that. Unfortunately, I needed to call to kind of check up on him. I know he slept over at your house last night..."

"Yeah, he did."

"I hope he was polite and cleaned up after himself." Mr. Anderson wasn't even sure what he wanted to ask at this point.

"Can you- hold on a minute?" Finn was doing a terrible job of covering his eavesdropping and it was clear to Burt that this was going to be a father-to-father kind of chat.

"Oh, uh, sure."

The line went quiet while Burt went out to the garage.

"...Sorry about that. Uh, yeah Blaine slept over here last night I guess."

"You- you guess?"

"Well Kurt didn't exactly give me a heads up and..."

"Okay, woah. Sir, I am very sorry. I don't allow my son to just invite himself over to people's houses."

"Mr. Anderson, it's okay-"

"No, it's not, he told me Kurt had asked you before they went to the movies, and I have to apologize for any inconvenience he caused you."

Burt paused. Apparently this Blaine kid was in a heap of hot water. "... He said they went to the movies?"

Mr. Anderson sighed. "That's why I called you. I have... some reason to believe he's not been telling me the whole truth and I'd like to find out what really happened."

Burt hedged. "Well, maybe they... watched a movie on DVD or something... but it's my understanding he was with Kurt and my stepson at a party last night."

"Where there was drinking."

Burt mouth-opened. "Uh, well. I just found out about this myself, Mr. Anderson. But it seems that, yes, there was some drinking going on. My sons swear up and down that they weren't involved in that but I don't know, with teenagers it's hard to-"

"My kid was drinking though."

Burt took a breath. Blaine seemed like a nice enough kid, it felt sort of rotten to get him in even more trouble than he already was in. "Kurt told me that Blaine had some to drink and they wanted him to sleepover so he wouldn't be driving home. He did look... pretty green this morning."

Mr. Anderson absorbed this information. "That's about what I guessed. His older brother's in college now, but my wife and I have... been down this road before. Maybe being good and hungover taught him a couple things. But I'd rather he be hungover at someone's house than driving drunk, so I do appreciate your sons looking out for him."

"They're good kids. Believe me, I'm not happy they were at a party with alcohol either, but I know Kurt's friends- they're all good kids. I'm pretty sure it was the kids from his old glee club and they're loud but, from what I can tell, they're harmless."

"I don't like my son lying to me." It was more of a confession than anything else. It was... embarrassing, and he didn't have anyone to talk to about these things. Never in his life had he been in a position where someone could legitimately say that his kid was any kind of bad influence, and he was just grateful that Mr. Hummel wasn't saying that.

"Yeah. That sucks." Mr. Anderson smirked at the bluntness- and truth- in that statement.

"So what would you do?" the question came out of his mouth before he could stop it.

Burt leaned against his car in the garage, considering. "Tough call. With lying, sometimes I can just wait it out until Kurt's so wracked with guilt he confesses, honestly."

Mr. Anderson chuckled. "Nice."

"I don't know. I guess I would give him the opportunity to come clean first."

"You sound like my wife."

Burt laughed. "Well she sounds like a very smart lady!"

"She is." Mr. Anderson smiled.

"I don't know what to tell you, Mr.-"

"Gabe."

"Gabe. Sometimes teenagers make mistakes. They seem grown but they still need direction sometimes."

Mr. Anderson nodded.

"I was a single parent for a long time. Years. It's a wonder my kid isn't totally messed up. But I've just tried to make sure he knows I love him and deal with the bumps in the road the best I can."

Mr. Anderson hadn't known that. He couldn't conceive of raising a kid on his own. Wow.

"Well, Kurt seems like a nice kid, Mr. Hummell."

"Burt."

"Burt. Thanks for the advice. I hope Blaine hasn't worn out his welcome, I definitely think he needs to apologize to you for-"

"It's not necessary. We were... happy to have him." Burt didn't mention that he'd basically just told Kurt not to have Blaine sleepover anymore- but not because of his drunkenness. That would have been a lot... longer... of a conversation.

Mr. Anderson decided not to argue. "Well thanks. I hope Kurt is enjoying Dalton. I understand that there was some trouble at his old school and Blaine uh, went through some of that sort of thing a couple years back too, so... It's just a great school."

"Well thank you. It was a tough decision, but I think, the right one- for now anyway. Blaine seems to have really shown Kurt the ropes- he talks about him all the time. He's been a real role model."

For the first time that night, Mr. Anderson felt pride in his son. It was priceless. "Well thank you, Burt. My wife and I have tried to raise him right."

"I'm sure you're doing fine. I'll call you next time I have a crisis. Which will probably be round about tomorrow since I've got two teenagers here."

Both men chuckled and said their good nights. Gabriel was just coming back to his house, which was good because the cold was starting to get to him. He wasn't expecting the evening to go pleasantly, exactly, but he wasn't furious about it anymore. This was just part of having a kid, he told himself. And if he went up there and Blaine just continued to try to lie to his face, well- he wouldn't be happy, but it wouldn't be the end of the world. He just needed some direction.