"Kurt, honey. Come in, he's by the pool."
As Kurt stepped over the threshold of the Taylor home, he was greeted by the comforting aroma of lasagna wafting through the air, wrapping him in a warm embrace of familiarity. It was a scent he associated with happy memories and a sense of belonging, surrounded by Isaac's family. This summer had been a split between spending time with his father and being in Columbus, but being here felt like coming home.
However, Kurt's relationship with his father had become strained ever since he started dating Carole Hudson, Finn's mother. While he understood his father's efforts to blend their families together, Kurt couldn't shake the feeling of discomfort that plagued him during every forced dinner or gathering with the Hummels and Hudsons. Carole's attempts to fill the maternal void left by his own mother's passing only served to frustrate him
"How is he?" he inquired, his voice laced with concern as he deposited his belongings in the guest room. Isaac's mother met his gaze with a mixture of sadness and reassurance, offering him a small smile.
"He's starting to get back to his old self. Distracting himself with new projects, going to the gym. You know how boys are," Sabrina replied, her tone lightening with a touch of humor
Kurt had learned of the incident between Quinn and Isaac, and although he wasn't privy to all the details, he couldn't help but feel a sense of solidarity with his friend. Isaac had always been nothing but kind and accepting towards him, often including him in his plans with friends and seeking his opinion on fashion choices. Unlike Finn, who might have been embarrassed to be seen with him in public, Isaac never made him feel out of place.
"Kurt, come here!" Isaac's voice rang out from the pool area, drawing Kurt's attention.
Despite his attempts to quell the flutter in his chest, he couldn't deny the faint crush he harbored for his friend. Whether it was his infectious smile or his unwavering acceptance of him as he was, there was something about the dark-haired boy that drew Kurt in ways he couldn't quite explain. He knew his friend was straight and viewed him more as a little brother, he couldn't help but admire him from afar.
He never made Kurt feel uncomfortable, never pushed him into situations he wasn't ready for. Isaac always demonstrated a remarkable level of patience and compassion, especially when it came to sports. Alongside Jayden and Asher, they took the time to answer his questions, patiently explaining the intricacies of the game and guiding him through each play.
"How's everything going?"
Kurt's expression twisted in disgust as he pulled away slightly from his embrace, "Dad keeps insisting that Finn and I should get along," he muttered, shaking his head in frustration. "He doesn't seem to understand that Finn and I will never see eye to eye."
"And how's the football team? Still giving you trouble?" Isaac asked, settling onto a nearby lounger as he took a seat opposite him.
"Everything remains the same," he lamented, his tone tinged with annoyance. "Nothing has changed. We in Glee Club are still labeled as losers. Well, not all of us. The popular ones are still riding high."
"I've already told you that you can always transfer to Carmel or even Columbus. They have zero tolerance for bullying."
"Mercedes would never forgive me," he remarked. A faint smile tugged at his lips at the familiar proposal. "And Rachel would be in hysterics at the mere thought of having to compete against me in Sectionals."
"Still snagging all the solos?" The hockey player quipped, his laughter ringing out. He couldn't help but smile in response, seeing Isaac's smile was like basking in the radiance of the sun itself.
"Santana can't stop complaining and insulting her every time she comes around."
Kurt couldn't help but smile at the mention of Latina, the unexpected friendship between her and Isaac a source of amusement for him. The dynamic between the two seemed almost comical at times, given Santana's typically brash demeanor juxtaposed with Isaac's gentle nature.
The cheerleader often brushed off any suggestion of genuine interest in his friend, claiming that all she cared about was the strawberry chocolate he occasionally gifted her. However, Kurt couldn't help but notice subtle signs of fondness in her demeanor. From the way her eyes would light up with a fleeting smile whenever she spoke of Isaac with Brittany to the apparent disdain and venomous glares in her captain's direction whenever the opportunity arose. As a self-proclaimed gossip, she had unearthed the details of what had transpired between Isaac and Quinn.
"And her? How is she?"
Kurt's gaze bore into Isaac's, searching for any sign of the emotions swirling in his hazel eyes. Despite Sabrina's assurances that her son was doing fine, he could see past the façade, there was pain lurking behind those guarded eyes.
"There's a boy," he began, choosing his words carefully as he braced himself for the reaction. "He's new. Sam. Isaac, I'm sorry," he added, his voice laced with sincerity.
He watched as Isaac's defenses crumbled before him, the walls he had meticulously erected coming crashing down with heartbreaking vulnerability he hadn't seen before. "Don't be sorry," he murmured with resignation, his voice barely above a whisper. "We were never... we were never anything. Is she... Is she happy?" he ventured, a pained smile gracing his lips as he awaited his friend's response. His heart clenched at the sight of that smile and he wished he could erase every trace of Quinn from his friend's life to spare him the agony of unrequited love.
"If you're asking if they are a couple, they're not, but he likes her. Rumors are going around that he is going to ask her out on a date."
Isaac's shoulders slumped at the news, his expression a mask of sorrow as he processed the information. Before either of them could say another word, a familiar voice cut through the tension.
"I swear to God, Isaac, if you're crying again over that blonde bitch I'm going to slap you."
"Santana, what are you doing here?" Isaac inquired, a hint of surprise coloring his tone as he glanced at his watch. "Aren't you supposed to have cheerleading practice?"
The cheerleader shrugged nonchalantly, her gaze flitting between the two boys. "Couldn't be bothered," she admitted, her tone casual as she made herself comfortable next to the dark-haired boy.
"And Sue isn't going to murder you for skipping practice?"
The Latina smirked, her confidence unwavering. "Hummel, I'm one of the best cheerleaders there is. Plus, just today she wasn't there."she added with a dismissive wave of her hand.
"How did you get into my house?"
"I have a copy of your keys,"she stated matter-of-factly, her tone devoid of emotion. For a brief moment, the boys exchanged startled looks, unsure whether to believe her confession or dismiss it as a joke.
"Kidding," the girl clarified with a wry grin,her lips curling into a sly grin, "Your mother opened the door for me. But seriously now, you have to get over Queen Bitch."
"Don't insult her," Isaac reprimanded softly, his voice tinged with a mixture of hurt and defensiveness. "At least not when I'm around."
Santana paused, setting her lemonade aside and turned to face him fully. "I'm going to be honest with you," she began, her tone devoid of its usual sass. "And I want you to listen to me because I won't say it again."
"Quinn may be my friend, but she can and is a huge bitch and a manipulator. She doesn't deserve you, it's that simple. I don't know what shitty excuse she has but I don't give a flying fuck." Her next words held a surprising tenderness, a stark contrast to her usual sharp tongue. "You're one of the nicest and most genuine guys I know, and although your naivety in some things should make me puke, I find you terribly handsome."
His eyebrows shot up in surprise at her unexpected compliment, a faint blush coloring his cheeks at the unexpected praise.
"There's few guys like you and bitches like Quinn, for some sadistic sexual reason, they like to play with you and break your hearts."
Isaac's heart sank at her brutal honesty, the weight of her words settling heavily upon him like a suffocating blanket. He couldn't deny the truth in her words, the painful realization dawning upon him like a harsh slap to the face.
"If you were a jerk, I wouldn't give two shits about it. But you are my chocolate delivery boy, and you don't deserve it. So, back to my initial argument: get over her."
"Woah," he breathed, his voice filled with awe and appreciation. "I never thought I'd hear a speech full of insults that would make me feel complimented."
Santana flashed him a small, knowing smile, a flicker of satisfaction dancing in her eyes. "It's a talent that not everyone has," she remarked, her tone laced with pride at having made her friend smile.
Kurt, who had been listening intently to their exchange, offered his support with a small smile of his own. "Santana's right," he agreed, his voice gentle, "you can't torture yourself with what-ifs."
"We're all bored with the Ken and Barbie show," the cheerleader added with a roll of her eyes. "It's disgusting to watch them. It's like watching incest live."
"Ladies, Kurt-Karofsky's bullying situation is getting out of control. He's miserable, he's losing weight...and not in a good way. And he barely fights with me alone anymore. We are all lucky to have boyfriends on the football team. I say, let's unite and demand that they stand up to Karofsky."
Quinn was the first to voice her dissent, her tone tinged with skepticism. "Okay, first of all, Berry, I'm not dating Sam," she clarified, her voice firm. "And second of all, I think you personally just set the feminist movement back 50 years."
Rachel's frustration was palpable as she attempted to defend her stance. "But guys like Karofsky only respond to muscle," she argued, her frustration evident in the stamp of her foot against the ground.
"So we're going to fight violence with violence?"
"No! Look, I'm not saying that they should hit him," she clarified, her voice tinged with desperation. "What I'm saying is that we need to defend Kurt, and there's strength in numbers."
Before the discussion could progress any further, the choir room door swung open as Santana barged through the door, her gaze ablaze with fury as she fixed a piercing glare on the Jewish girl. "Why didn't you tell me that we were having a Glee girls meeting, Troll?" she demanded, her tone sharp with accusation.
"This is a meeting for Glee girls with boyfriends. We're going to make them stop Karofsky from bullying Kurt."
"Okay, Kurt is my friend. I'm staying." The Latina said, settled into a chair next to Brittany, her expression remained steely, her nails filing methodically as she simmered with barely-contained anger.
"Oh please, don't make me laugh," Quinn scoffed, eyeing the brunette. "Less than a year ago, you were insulting him and throwing slushies at him."
Her patience snapped at the blonde's remark, her frustration boiling over as she stood abruptly from her chair. "Bitch, do you want a fight?" she challenged, her voice low and dangerous. "Because I've been wanting to hit you for months. Try me and see, Fabray."
"What's your problem, Lopez?" she demanded, her voice tinged with hurt. "You've been being bitchier than normal towards me since the start of the year."
"You know perfectly well what my problem is with you."
Brittany intervened, attempting to diffuse the escalating tension between her girlfriend and her best friend. "Britt, let go of me. I'm about to fuck this bitch's face," Santana growled, her anger simmering just beneath the surface.
"Stop. You're supposed to be friends."
"I don't know what your problem is, really. Tell me."
"Okay, I'll tell you what my fucking problem is," The room fell silent as the cheeleader unleashed her pent-up frustrations, her words cutting through the air like a knife."I find it terribly funny that you accept a cheap dollar store ring from a guy you've known for 6 weeks," she spat, her voice dripping with disdain. "Who clearly uses you to elevate his social status, in contrast to him, who was willing to spend 200 dollars on a single rose just because little Miss Prom Queen likes them."
Quinn's brow furrowed in confusion, "What are you talking about?"
"Sanny, that was a secret," Brittany murmured sadly, her blue eyes wide with concern. "She wasn't supposed to know."
"He was at Disney, you know? So excited that he called Britt and me to show us the gift he had planned for you. His mother absolutely forbade him from buying you that fucking rose because, God knows, that boy has plenty of money and for him, $200 is small change. He then decided to manually make you a bouquet of 30 paper roses with the help of his mother," Santana concluded, her voice cracking with emotion. "Who, by the way, hates you. You broke his heart that afternoon, and Kurt and Britt and I have been there to pick up the pieces. But congratulations, Q, I guess you care more about your throne and your crown. You and Sam are perfect for each other."
"I... I didn't know. Santana, you don't know shit about me. You can't judge me."
"Oh my god, Fabray, stop playing the martyr for a moment. The tension in the room crackled with the force of her anger, each word she spoke laced with a potent mix of frustration and disdain. "I know enough," she continued, her voice dripping with venom. "And back to what concerns us," the dark-haired cheerleader shifted her gaze to Rachel, her expression still seething with rage. "Kurt is my friend, and I plan to stay for this shitty meeting even though we all know that it would be best if he transferred schools."
"That would mean we would face him in Sectionals," the singer exclaimed, her voice tinged with desperation. "Kurt is one of our best voices."
Santana's rage boiled over at the response as she took a menacing step forward. "Are you even listening to yourself?" she spat, her voice dripping with contempt. "Your friend is being threatened and fears for his life, and you're worried about a stupid singing competition? Fuck you. You know what? "I'm leaving. When you find a real solution, let me know."
Burt Hummel was knee-deep in his work, his brow furrowed in concentration as he tinkered beneath the hood of an old car in his garage. The dim light cast long shadows across the space, the rhythmic clinks of metal echoing off the walls as he meticulously worked on the engine. Tools lay scattered around him as he focused intently on the task at hand.
Suddenly, the sound of tires crunching against gravel pricked at his ears, drawing his attention away from his work. He glanced up just in time to see a familiar black Audi pulling into the driveway, a smile spreading across his rugged features as he recognized the driver.
"Isaac! Good to see you, son," he greeted him warmly, his voice filled with genuine affection as he set aside his tools and approached his son's friend. He wiped his hands on a rag, leaving streaks of grease on the worn fabric as he extended a hand in greeting.
"Not too bad, not too bad," Isaac replied with a smile, his hazel eyes sparkling with warmth as he stepped out of the car. "Just gearing up for the hockey season to start soon. Excited?"
Burt chuckled, a proud glint in his eyes as he glanced back at the vehicle he had been working on."Yeah, can't wait. Kurt's been counting down the days," he admitted, a hint of amusement in his voice. "I don't know how, but you've managed to get my son into sports."
"Speaking of which, congratulations on the engagement to Carole. You're a lucky man."
His smile softened at the mention of his fiancée, a warmth spreading through his chest at the thought of her. "Thanks. We're pretty excited," he admitted, his gaze drifting off for a moment as he thought of Carole. "You'll be there, right?"
"Wouldn't miss it for the world. Actually, that's partly why I stopped by," Isaac confessed, his voice taking on a somber tone. "I wanted to talk about Kurt and what's been happening at McKinley. You're aware, right?"
"I'm aware," he replied, his voice tinged with a hint of anger. He watched intently as the brown-haired boy reached into his jacket pocket, withdrawing a bundle of papers and extending them towards him. His eyes narrowed slightly as he studied the documents, recognizing them immediately for what they were.
"They're enrollment papers for Carmel and Columbus High," Isaac elaborated and leaned against the car. "Zero tolerance for bullying. I've managed to pull some strings to make sure he'll have a spot if the situation gets worse."
A swell of emotion welled up in his chest as he looked at his son's friend, gratitude filling his eyes. He was struck by the young man's unwavering commitment to Kurt's well-being, his heart swelling with appreciation for the lengths the young man was willing to go to in order to protect his son
"I don't know what to say. This means a lot," Burt admitted, his voice thick with emotion as he met Isaac's gaze. "Why are you doing all of this?"
"No need to thank me. Kurt's my friend, and I want him safe. Just one thing, though," Isaac added, his tone serious yet still tinged with warmth. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention to Kurt that I stopped by."
"Of course. Your secret's safe with me."
"Well then, see you at the wedding."
Burt watched as the teenager made his way back to his car and drove off into the distance. He glanced down at the papers in his hand, noticing the number scrawled across the top. With a grateful smile, he tucked the documents into his pocket, a sense of relief washing over him knowing that there were people like Isaac looking out for his son.