~ chapter three ~

                                    

                                          
Kurt sat on his bed, whilst listening to music. Teenage Dream by Katy Perry. 
                          
"I love that song", I mentioned as he turned around. 
                          
"You look cute in my clothes," he said and put a confused smile on my face. 
                          
"We should take care of your wounds. Where does it hurt the most?" he asked. 
                          
"I don't know. My back hurts a lot", I replied, walking towards Kurt. 
                          
"Lay down on the bed, so I can look at it", he suggested. 
                          
I hesitated. I didn't know him that well, and I wasn't the type of person who takes his shirt of in front of a stranger. 
                          
Somehow Kurt seemed to read my thoughts and got up. 
                          
"I'm not a rapist or something like that. But it would be advantageous if I could take care of you and especially of your wounds without any tension". 
                          
I sighed and hesitantly pulled the sweater over my head and laid down on his bed. 
                          
"Oh, that doesn't look good. Wait, I have a healing ointment, which always helps with all kind of bruises", Kurt remarked opening his bedside drawer, took a white tube and smeared its content on the spot. 
                          
His hands were soft and he was very timid, which caused a weird tingling sensation for some reason. 
                          
Nevertheless, I moaned in pain. 
                          
"Sorry", he said anxiously. 
                          
"It's alright. The healing ointment feels good", I replied.

 "Where are your parents?" I asked trying to distract myself from the pain. 
                          
"My father will come home soon. But don't worry, he's cool". 
                          
I nodded and sank into the pillows. I realized how tired I was but tried to keep my eyes open.
                          
Kurt stopped spreading the ointment on my back and threw the sweater, which he had given me earlier, next to me. 
                          
"Done!" he shouted and backed away. I put the sweater on and sat on the edge of the bed. While looking at the white clock, which was hanging over the bedroom door, I realized that it was already 5 PM. 
                          
My mother will be home soon and will start to worry about me. So perhaps I should head home. 
                          
But what would be my father's reaction to his son covered in bruises?
My eyes became glassy again, but this time I quickly tried to calm down. 
                          
"Do you want to tell me what's bothering you?" Kurt, who probably saw my tears, asked and sat down next to me. 
                          
I kept staring at the floor. 
                          
I was owing him something. He deserved an explanation after helping and comforting a complete stranger. 
                          
"I'm afraid of my father's reaction when I come home like this", I sighed and remained silent for a moment to make sure that my voice wasn't going to crack, "He's not happy with the fact that I'm gay, so he doesn't forgive me "further mistakes". Last time I got away with a slap on my wrist, but I don't know how he will react this time... apart from the alcohol level which he usually has at this time". 
                          
While keeping my eyes on the floor I could no longer hold my tears. 
                          
Kurt moved closer and put his arm around my shoulders. Just because of his touch my whole body started sweating. 
                          
"You can stay here as long as you want. You could tell your parents about a school project with a classmate, which has to be done till Monday, and you will stay at his house over the weekend and will come home on Sunday. Until then, we will certainly have found a solution. I can tell my father the truth and I'm sure he would want to help you, too", he suggested. 
                          
"Why are you helping me?" I burst out. It was probably too sudden and too enthusiastic, because Kurt backed away and stood up. 
                          
"I know what you're going through. I was bullied at my old school because of my sexuality, too", he began after a moment of silence. 
                          
Wait a minute. Kurt is gay, too? Somehow, I didn't even think of that, but now it made complete sense. 
                          
He turned around to look at the wall. 
                          
"One day two older guys beat me up on my way home. But no one helped me. Everyone was just watching. Well, in the end I never went to this school again. My father helped me a lot during this time and was always there for me. Then I transferred to my current school, made new friends and even joined the football team as a kicker", he said. 
                          
I was overwhelmed by his courage, and it took me a few moments to find the right words. 
                          
"I'm sorry. I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable. But I'd love to stay if it doesn't make any problems", I replied, while slowly approaching him. 
                          
I didn't know if it would be weird to hug him, so I just stood behind him until I heard the front door falling. 
                          
"Kurt?" a raucous voice shouted. 
                          
"That's my dad. I can talk to him while you are trying to call your parents. Is that okay?".
                          
I nodded and a smiling Kurt left the room. 
                          
I opened the bathroom door and bent down to my ripped uniform. 
                          
I searched for my phone, that I had put in my pockets of my trousers this morning, and finally dialed the telephone number from my mother. It rang. 
                          
"Yes?" a drunken male voice shouted from the other side. 
                          
"Hi Dad!", I answered hesitantly. 
                          
"Son, why aren't you home? Your mother is worried!", he exclaimed loudly.
                          
A shiver ran down my spine and I decided to remain silent. 
                          
Luckily, I was hearing my mother's voice in the background at that moment. 
                          
"Is it Blaine? Give me the phone!", she ordered 
                          
After a few seconds of rustling, the high voice turned to the telephone. 
                          
"Blaine?", my mother asked softly.
                          
"Hi Mom. I'm sorry for not coming home. I didn't want you to be to worry you", I admitted worriedly.
                          
"It's alright. Where are you?", she tried to reassure me.
                          
"I'm at a classmate's. We've been given a school project to do together till Monday and I spontaneously decided to spend the weekend at his house. I'm probably coming home Sunday night, okay?", I asked. 
                          
"Okay, take care of yourself, my darling", she replied quietly.
                          
The thought of leaving my mother alone made me cry again. I love my mother more than anything else. 
                          
"I should hang up. Your father..."
                          
I heard a noise and shortly afterwards the connection broke down.
                          
At first I didn't know what to do, but at last I took a deep breath and decided to join the conversation between Kurt and his father. 
                          
He shouldn't think that I would hide from him or the situation. 
                          
Also I' got to pick up my car, which is still standing at the café's parking lot. 
                          
I opened the bedroom door slowly and went downstairs.