GLEE: It's Not What You Say
Title: It's Not What You Say It's the Way That You Say It [part two]
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Not mine. No money. No affiliation.
"We need to talk." Ideally, they'd do this in a better setting, but his sister is due home in thirty minutes and Puck doesn't want to do it with her hovering around like the bad smell she sometimes is (seriously, it is a fight to get her into the bath ever since she watched some show about snakes in the sewer and how they can come up through the drains). So sitting in Puck's living room, the television muted is just how it's going to have to go.
"Are you dumping me? You're dumping me, aren't you. It's this stalker thing. It's okay, I understand." Kurt looks moderately dejected, staring at the floor and Puck just wants to hit himself for how he made that sound.
"Kurt, I'm not dumping you. No one is- well, I'm not dumping you. Okay?" There's the possibility the Kurt might dump him though so Puck's not promising anything
"You're not?"
"No, but," for all that Puck's learned to use words, he's not really got this talking thing down yet. Sure, he can write this shit now, and half of the time he means it too, but he's not gotten to the stage where he's all that comfortable with talking. It likely comes across wrong with Kurt, "Well, I need to tell you something."
"Did you cheat on me?" Wow, Kurt's just jumping all over the place, isn't he. "Noah, God, did you, was it-"
"No!" The frustration creeps into Puck's voice, because ever since he sort of accepted that he had feelings of the not so platonic nature for Kurt, he hasn't so much as considered a random hook up. This is a big deal for him. And not just because it's with a guy, but his first ever monogamous relationship which started before he was even in a relationship? Yeah, big deal. "No cheating, no dumping, no stealing, no changing my mind, okay. It's just-"
"Noah, seriously, if it’s none of those things, what is it?"
"They know about the letter, from the stalker, because he sent it to me." He says it in a rush, words almost merging together as he practically spits it out. Probably not the best idea.
"What?" Kurt has this ridiculously adorable bewildered expression on his face and if Puck didn't need to be serious right then, they'd be making out.
"The school advice column. It's my extra credit for class."
"What?"
"I sort of knew everything from the start."
"What?" Kurt's vocabulary seems to have abandoned him from the shock and that bewildered expression is losing the adorable factor and starting to become moderately annoying. As is the repetition.
"Can you seriously think of another word."
"I just, you said, I don't- What?"
"Oh for, you wrote that first letter in and I knew it was you. There was only one boy out at school who'd just transferred back from transferring out. It's actually not that hard to deduce these things, really. So when you wrote in, I knew what was going on. Before you actually told me." He's just going to get everything out and hope that Kurt's brain processes while he's sitting there in shock. "So, I knew about the stalker and stuff and then about, y'know the other thing, and well. I thought about telling you that it was me, but that was before you were, I don't know, showing interest? I just wasn't sure you'd actually listen if you knew who was giving the advice, okay? And I'm sorry, but-"
"You write the advice column? You're the one that smacked Finn with the clue-by-four about Rachel and Quinn? Who got Jenna Keys to flash Sam? Who told Santana to just wait for Brittany?" Kurt seems to just gloss over anything Puck just said and Puck has to smack himself in the face. "Hey, woah." Kurt grabs his hand on the third smack to pull it down. "I was listening, I promise, I was."
"Seriously," Puck sighed, letting his hand drop to his lap, wrist still held in a loose grip by Kurt, "it was just supposed to be extra credit, pull my grade up, knock up the GPA, keep me from falling below academic eligibility and all that. But, like, I don't know. It's kinda fun. When people aren't talking about killing themselves. Or me."
Kurt shuffles up until he's leaning in against Puck, wrapping his arm around Puck's arm and slipping his hand into Puck's to lace their fingers together. It's a little strange, just how comfortable Puck is with Kurt's little shows of affection; the hand holding, the half hug, leaning their heads together. He's never actually done any of the mushy stuff before. The most his 'affections' have been shown are make outs in the halls. But with Kurt, Puck can just go with it and it doesn't feel strained or forced or weird at all. He has realised that, even just two weeks in, he is utterly whipped.
"You were there for me, during a hard time, when I was sure I was being crazy. Really, I didn't know if I was just being stupid or not, but you really did help by making me not feel like I was over reacting. Just one person believing me, that was help on its own." So Kurt's not mad at him, they don't have a fight and things are fine. Which is pretty cool.
"You know what this means though, right?"
"What?" Kurt better not start that again.
"The write in. From the stalker. To the school paper."
"He's at school." Puck just nods as Kurt gets the hushed words out. "Should we, I mean, Mr Schue?"
"Maybe, I mean, I don't know half the teachers there, do you?" Kurt shakes his head, "So, maybe if we give Schue a description, you know, maybe he'll know who it is."
"What if he teaches one of my classes? What if he teaches one of yours?" Puck stops Kurt before he starts panicking.
"Okay, if he taught one of yours, you'd know. Because he'd be super creepy all the time and you'd figure it out. And, well, I don't really attend many of my classes. I think I'll be attending even less until he's caught." The only classes he'd be showing up to were the ones with female teachers, and journalism.
With the secrets out of the way, they get to enjoy the last ten minutes of quiet; the television is turned to something neither of them are watching and they make out on the couch like normal teenagers until Sarah bursts through the door shouting her triumphant return. Sarah meeting Kurt is only somewhat awkward because the pre-teen is a bundle of questions dying to get out. Kurt handles them pretty well and Sarah seems to accept Kurt.
"So, are you like Noah's girlfriend?"
"Um, sort of. I'm his boyfriend. Because we're both boys." Puck takes his time in the kitchen, making up Sarah's snack while his sister talks to Kurt in the living room.
"Are you Jewish?"
"No."
"You're pretty though. And I like your vest."
"Thank you, I think."
"Noah never brings people home. Well, he brought Quinn home, but that was because she was having Beth and needed a place to stay. And sometimes, Finn used to come over, but he doesn't do that much anymore." Sarah launches into a really long and rambling story about something or nothing, she even keeps going when Puck brings her the sandwich she wanted, mumbling through the bread in her mouth. By the time Sarah gets fed up with them and heads up to her room to play with her toys, Kurt probably knows everything there is to know about Sarah's school and her friends.
"She likes you." You can tell by the fact that she didn't bite him.
"What about your mom? I mean, you seemed a little worried, earlier on, when we were at school." It's not the Puck thinks his Ma won't accept it, it's just that he's a little worried about the whole 'disappointment' thing and he can't take another 'nice Jewish girl' speech.
"Ma and me have been good and stuff, right." Since the whole pregnant cheerleader that wasn't actually his girlfriend and then giving up Beth and his mood swings and finally juvie, Puck and his mother had their shares of ups and downs. But things had been pretty good lately. "It'll be an adjustment, but we'll be fine." His mother wasn't homophobic, she wasn't even all that judgemental about stuff like that (and the gays were persecuted just as much as the Jews so there was that whole thing too) so Puck wasn't worried per say.
"So, she won't be sending you to straight camp?"
"Um, no. She believes those are almost like concentration camps and never mention them in front of her unless you want to lose about nine hours of your life." His mother, the history buff, could wax poetic about that shit.
Finn comes to pick Kurt up an hour later, because no one lets Kurt go anywhere alone anymore and that will be happening even less now that psycho boy has insinuated homicidal tendencies. Kurt texts when he gets home and Puck goes back to the rest of the write ins, hoping to hell that psycho dude is caught really fucking soon.
---
Dear My Last Hope.
I'm seventeen. I've been with my boyfriend for almost a year now. He's the only guy I've ever been with. I know that I love him, but sometimes, I'm not sure if he loves me. We've been together for a long time, by high school standards, and I get the feeling that he's getting tired of me. He's suggested that I change my appearance before -I was blond but I dyed my hair brown because he said he likes brunettes, I never used to wear eye make-up, but he said he prefers it. I caught him staring at a girl with larger breasts than me, when I asked him about it, he said he prefers a girl with a bigger bust than I have.
My friends are telling me that if I love him I should listen to him, but I think plastic surgery is a little bit extreme. I do want to keep my boyfriend, but I worry that he'll keep making suggestions if I listen to him about this. What should I do?
Dear Slightly Deluded;
You are seventeen. What the hell do you think you're doing considering plastic surgery for an asshole that can't appreciate you the way you are? Sure, this guy likes brunettes and girls with panda eyes and big tits. But seriously, what are you doing with a guy who doesn't like you the way you are? You're still young, you've got your whole life to change your appearance and 'find yourself', you're not meant to do it in high school because the douche your seeing wants you to look a certain way.
Big no to the breast enlargement, kiddo. These things are serious, there are major repercussions and possible health issues that could arise later. And what's to say you guys even stay together? In five years’ time all you'll have is gunge filled eyes, brown hair you hate and bigger boobs. Is this really what you want?
Stand up for yourself, you're not your appearance. If he can't be with you for who you are and not what you look like, really, you guys are doomed already.
It's kind of remarkable just how much he's grown up since he started doing this stupid column. Things he said to people before and what he says now. He can't really pinpoint when he stopped being a conceited ass himself. It probably sparked from trying to give decent advice to pull up his grade and considering what he'd say if this was Sarah. He's pretty sure that if his sister every tried to change how she looked for some stupid boy he'd have to kill the little shit. Just on principle.
"You know, I can kind of understand why no one has figured this out." Kurt and him are in the library, because it's quiet and the librarian is an old maid with a soft spot for Kurt and thus not some psycho stalker. The school paper is spread out in front of them with this week’s prints published and Kurt is just reading through them. "I mean, you seriously write this?"
"Shut up, I can be helpful." Sure, not all the time and more often than not he sticks to his usual instinct of being completely unhelpful with his suggestions because it's just who he is. If he changed too much, people might start to freak out. "Besides you and San, no one else knows."
"You told Santana?"
"Nah, she figured it out. Not exactly hard." Not when she knew him as well as she did. And that was pretty fucking well. Him and San were probably the only two people who really understood each other inside and out. "Shit, I gotta go, mandatory career advisement meeting." He shook his head, clearing up his history notes and leaning over the table to kiss Kurt quick. "Mercy is meeting you, right?"
"Yeah, her and Tina, we're planning something for glee." It's supposedly this big surprise and Puck just shakes his head with a smirk. "And then I'll be talking to Mr Schue about the stalker and him being on the faculty." Puck's smirk fades as he nods his head once, promising to try and make it for that discussion. He doesn't really get why they need to do the careers advisement in their junior year, since it had always been done in senior year before. But he has his and he's pretty sure Kurt has one later today and Finn mentioned something about a meeting. Maybe they're just speeding up the process or whatever, but Puck makes his way to the designated classroom he was told to attend to speak with the careers adviser.
What's really weird is that it's not in the guidance area like Miss P's office. That would make sense since the whole thing is a sort of guidance, right? So the fact that it’s in the music department is a little questionable. But Figgins is cheap, so maybe one of the music teachers doubles as the career adviser and it's just easier to do this shit in their classroom? Puck's still talking himself into it not being messed up beyond all belief when he knocks on the door and steps inside. The annoying thing about these rooms are the sound proofing. Yeah, it makes sense cause who the fuck can concentrate on their composition while someone is mutilating a jazz number on the trombone in the next class room, but still. The blackout curtains are a little extreme, right?
"Hello?" No seriously, he's totally not cool with any of this. Even less so when the door slams shut and a sudden smack of something to the side of his head sends Puck into one of the desks before his vision blacks and he ends up on the floor. Yeah, totally not kosher right there.
"Noah Puckerman, McKinley Titan's running back, former juvenile delinquent, self-professed stud and man-whore of Lima." Puck's vision hasn't exactly come back to him yet, but he's pretty sure that the short, scrawny guy standing over him with a fucking baseball bat is the same guy that nailed his truck with the bat. Sweet mother of, didn't they screen teachers for mental instability?
"That would be me." His skull is throbbing, like seriously, he can feel the pulse of his blood in the side of his head. "And you are?"
"Not impressed." There's this creepy sort of tone going on there and Puck's trying to pull himself up to his feet when the bat comes down on his already fucking damaged thigh and his leg gives out. He's sprawled back on the ground with a shout of pain, because the muscle is spazzing out again and fucking Christ that was just getting back to normal. "I don't know what he sees in you," the whack job crouches down, tilting his head like he's considering something, "What did you say to him? How did you do it? What kind of lies did you tell him?" It's not hard to figure out who this guy is talking about, and Puck's remembered that Kurt has a meeting with this guy later on. Fuck.
"Didn't lie about jack shit. He just knows that you're fucking psycho." If he could, maybe, get this whack pot away from him, he could fire off a text message right? It doesn't need to be to Kurt, Mercy or Tina or Finn, they could make sure Kurt didn't go to the meeting and someone could call the fucking cops on this nut and things would be taken care of, right?
"Well," the tone goes cold and Puck curses himself for letting his mouth get away from himself again. "That wasn't very nice." The bat comes down towards his skull and the pain just explodes around his temple before everything blacks out.
---
There's this brief moment, when a hand touches his shoulder that Puck wakes up. There's a light shone in his eyes, his name is repeated a few times and there murmurings around him. He can't actually think well enough to formulate a response. His limbs don't respond and he can't utter a word. The next thing he knows he's moving, but not walking or anything. It feels like he's on a bed, but he can sort of feel the movement. Stretcher. It comes to him slowly. He's on a stretcher, being wheeled somewhere. Hospital is most likely considering the agony in his general head area. And his leg. Fuck, that's probably buggered all over again.
"Who did it?"
"Has anyone heard anything?"
"Is this about him dating Kurt Hummel?"
"I thought the bullying was over?"
"Puck? Puck, oh God, is he okay, what's going on, where are you taking him?"
"Has anyone seen Kurt?"
Puck zones out to the frantic noise of Finn's voice. He really wishes he could stay awake long enough to panic.
---
The next time Puck wakes up, he's ready to hurl.
"Come on, to the right." He hears his mother’s voice and then there's the press of a bowl under his chin and he just empties his stomach of whatever there is. Her hand smooth’s over the back of his head as he leans over, heaving and retching when there's nothing left to bring up. "Sip it, okay, just sips." There's a straw in his mouth to clear out the taste and Puck spits that out before taking a careful sip to cool the burning along his throat.
"Ma?" He doesn't have the energy to sit up, just leaning back into the bed and closing his eyes against the glare of the lights. "Wha' happened?"
"That man attacked you." Careers adviser, Kurt, oh shit.
"Kurt?"
"He's okay, it's okay. The police got there in time, everything is okay." Jesus Christ, the police got there? There was a there to get to? What did 'in time' mean? "Honey, just breath, it's okay. Kurt is fine, he's worried about you. The attacker is in police custody, he's being charged with a mountain of felonies. He's going to jail. Not least because he crack your head open." That was probably why it felt like his head was stapled together.
"How long've I been here?"
"You've been unconscious for three days, baby." His Ma starts telling him about everything that happened. How Mercedes and Tina never found Kurt in the library, how Puck hadn't been found until last period when the class was about to be used, how his skull had been cracked open and the blood had pooled in the room, how Kurt had been missing for almost nine hours before the police stormed the listed address and found him tied to a chair and crying. Puck felt his stomach roll again, but there was nothing to bring up and his Ma just popped some ice chips in his mouth. "Kurt will be here in the morning. They discharged him yesterday, but he keeps coming back to see you." Her hand ran over the back of his head and he figured she was avoiding the front of his head because that cracked.
"They shaved my head again, didn't they?" It's not a big deal, but it gets a laugh of out her. Enough that it seems to break her out of whatever it is she's thinking. Puck can tell when she starts doubting herself and stuff, she gets this hollow look in her eyes and it's hard to pull her out of those times.
"I like him," she whispers it somewhere around dawn, because Puck woke up around three in the morning, and now he's really just not tired. "Kurt, I mean. I was a little unsure, at first. You dating another boy. But he's sweet. Sarah likes him, she hugged him and wouldn't let go while we waited for some news on you." Oh yeah, brain surgery, stop the swelling, release the pressure. He literally had a hole in his fucking head now.
Visiting hours aren't until the afternoon, but his Ma knows most of the nurses on his ward, which means when Kurt shows up at half eight in the morning, he's just allowed straight into the room. There's surprise on his face when Puck shuffles up the bed until he's sitting and then this relieved wave and smile seems to spread over his face. Kurt's up on the side of Puck's bed with his arms carefully around Puck's neck in a hug and mumbling something into Puck's cheek. The only thing that Puck is focusing on is the fact that Kurt is right there.
"You scared the life out of me."
"Sorry." Kurt has bruises around his wrists, he waves them off as nothing compared to a broken skull. There are also little bruises on his jaw line and Puck frowns at them.
"Tight grip. It's okay though, really. The address that the school had matched up with the address from the IP you gave them. He talked a lot, and it was creepy, but I think you took the brunt of things."
"Turns out, I don't think before I speak." If he had, maybe he could've stalled longer to let Mercedes and Tina find Kurt and then the nut wouldn't have had the chance to snatch Kurt. Instead, Kurt went through nine hours of kidnapping and listening to the guy while Puck bled on a classroom floor. Yeah, he should definitely engage his brain (since everyone knows he has one now) before he starts talking.
"We'll work on that."
Puck's surprised that he can even feel tired, but somewhere around ten, he starts to fall asleep. Kurt just snuggles into his side, arm over Puck's waist, head on Puck's shoulder and Puck's arm around Kurt's shoulders. No one could move them if they tried. And apparently, Rachel tried when the glee club came to visit which just prompted Kurt to turn pink and Puck to flip them the bird. He was injured damnit, he deserved some time to cuddle with his boyfriend until his head closed up and the room wasn't in muted colours.
Santana, being the blessed demon woman that she was, herded the club out to come back when Puck was feeling a little more lively and less like a big fluffy teddy bear.
---
Dear Advice Columnist,
I am in an abusive relationship. That was hard to just write. I've never told anyone. I don't know how to. My friends try to tell me to dump my boyfriend, but I'm scared.
He says things to me, he hits me and controls everything I do. I know that it's not healthy, I've seen the adverts and movies and shows on television. I always thought that women who stay in abusive relationships were stupid, that they were weak and silly. But in truth, it's hard. It's hard to admit to anyone that he's doing this. It's hard to admit that I'm not in control of my own decisions. I don't know how to tell anyone, I don't know how to be strong enough.
I just don't know what to do.
Dear Starting to Realise,
Polls done in the US suggest that 20% of teenagers between 16 and 18 have been or are in an abusive relationship. You are not alone. However, you will be if you don't break away.
It's hard, yes, but those friends that tell you to dump him, they know what they're talking about. You have to know that if he loved you he wouldn't be doing these things to you. If he loved you, you wouldn't be scared of him. It's not about being brave, or being strong, it's about respecting yourself enough to know that you do not deserve this and he is wrong. There are helplines to get more tailored advice to your situation, counselling classes to help you move past it and most importantly, a police number attached to report him for domestic abuse. If he's done it to you, he will do it again, or has done it before.
You are better than his cruel words, hateful attacks and controlling ways. Turn to those friends, they'll help you though and support you. And of course, you have my email.
Let me know how it goes.
The bad thing about being stuck at home until the after effects of his head injury fade? Hours and hours with nothing to do. Kurt brings home his homework, he could do without that, but hey, it's getting to the point where even that isn't enough. He gets to watch stupid shows with his sister, learn Hannah Montana songs on the guitar for her to sing along to, watch Project Runway -which Kurt got Sarah into (but then Kurt also got Sarah to appreciate hygiene so she's more likely to actually wash every night rather than be forced to) and episodes of Drop Dead Diva with his mother who is moderately obsessed with the show.
Kurt is over almost every day, getting back to his usual flamboyant self -even after Burt insisted that Kurt see a therapist for a few weeks after this whole thing and Kurt pitched a fit before actually going and discovering that maybe he did have a few things to go there about after all. It was this whole big thing that basically had Kurt pacing in Puck's room for an hour and a half talking at length about how his Dad just didn't understanding. Puck had called in Mercedes as back up. It took her thirteen minutes and one mention of some 'Alexander McQueen' guy before Kurt was agreeing to go and the three of them ended up watching Curb Your Enthusiasm in his room.
Everyone at school has figured out that Puck and Kurt are dating, everyone at school found out that Mr Rossie, one of the music teachers, was a big creep that stalked Kurt. Kurt's in therapy and Puck's got three sessions of physical therapy a week for his leg because the muscle went into full seize and trying to get it back to normal is a bitch and a half. On the plus side, Mr Orson, his journalism teacher has already gave him his first ever A for a passing grade. Puck doesn't care why he's getting an A, he just knows that his GPA took a definite increase and his Ma couldn't be happier.
"How do you intend to dance?" His first day back at school, on the crutches again, Puck stares at Rachel. "I mean, obviously I'm glad you're well, and that the damage isn't permanent, but, we have Nationals soon and,"
"I'm sure I'll manage, so long as we don't put in anything else more complicated, okay?" Rachel accepts it, gives him a hug and tells him that he is very brave before waltzing off wherever to practice her scales or inform Mercedes about a flat note or something. Girl runs hot and cold worse than a clinically bipolar nut.
"Are you sure participating in Nationals is a good idea?" Kurt's still over protective, it's like this major swing and change in their dynamic, but it's kind of cool too. His boy can go from lovable sweetheart to Head-Bitch-in-Charge in an instant and frankly, that is a total turn on.
"Yeah, I've got the steps down and stuff, and Schue's already worked it around the movement I can make, so it's all good." And he was partnered up with Mercedes, so it worked out well enough, he could lean on her when he needed without it being obvious and she wouldn't mind. "Listen I gotta do something, meet me in History?" Kurt nods and smiles, heading off towards class without worry this time and Puck sort of hobbles towards one of the girls from Cheerio’s. See, Puck can sort of tell when make-up is used for cover up -he'd seen his Ma do it enough times when he was younger that he just knew. And Theresa Kiernan wasn't as good at it as his Ma.
"Hey, Theresa," the blond turned to him, looking around with wide eyes, "are you dating anyone?" Yeah, so it's not the first time he's done that whole 'stepping outside the advice box' and the last time worked out pretty well -see Brittana power couple, please and thank you. So he's not exactly bothered about doing it again.
"Um, aren't you dating Kurt Hummel?"
"Oh, yeah, I am. Sorry, I'm not asking for me," Theresa nods shyly -she never used to be shy, she used to be like Quinn without the ice queen heart. "It's just, you know Tony Becker? On the football team?" Theresa nods slowly, "Well, he won't shut the hell up about how much he likes you, it's starting to get nauseating, you know, in that talks too much about birds and flowers and candy and shit? Well, I figured, if you're not dating anyone, you'd y'know, maybe be interested in going out with him? Seriously, you'd be doing us a huge favour, and he's not exactly an awful guy. He's pretty good with all that chick stuff too, cause he's got like five little sisters that he practically helped raise." Fact one, Tony is not huge, he's kind of lanky in a Finn Hudson way, but not tall and imposing. Fact two, Tony has dated three girls in high school and stayed friends with all of them. Fact three, those five little sisters? Tony would probably kill for them, but it also makes him almost chick like with the whole sensitivity stuff.
Theresa and her boyfriend -Mitch Duncan from the hockey team, recently split and she has been avoiding him and his rage all week. Puck knows that the asshole is the bastard hitting her. "Think about it yeah? He'd be pretty good for you, y'know, the way he practically writes poetry about how amazing you are."
There's a blush on her cheeks as Puck heads off towards History, giving Santana a nod as they pass. For all that Puck wants to beat the ever loving fuck out of Duncan he knows for a fact that what Santana can dish out is way worse -both of them understand the repercussions of domestic abuse and neither of them will just turn away from that shit.
"Who's life are you poking into now?" Kurt, for all his scheming ways, is very good at recognising Puck's scheme face.
"What? Me? I'm innocent of all speculation you have, Kurt. You can't prove anything."
"You are such a big softy."
"Bite your tongue, someone might hear."
"Everyone will know when you take me to Prom and dance with me in front of the whole school." Kurt's all smug and shit, waving their Prom tickets in front of Puck just as the teacher walks in.
"Oh, I'm taking you to Prom am I?"
"Yup. You have to, it's in the script." Kurt counts off the points on his fingers, "While hiding your identity your offered solace and advice, inherently saving my life from the evil villain and eventually, you know, falling in love with me?" Puck's pretty sure Kurt didn't mean for that to become a question.
"Okay, so with all of that standing true, you're likening yourself to a damsel in distress and me to a superhero, you do realise this, right?"
"Will the superhero dance with the damsel at Prom?"
"Yeah," Puck bumps their shoulders together while the teacher prattles on about the Russian Revolution, "he'll do more than dance." Puck intends to make sure that Kurt's Prom is the best night of his life.
---
Dear Fabulously Gifted and Deep Soul;
For once, my life is exactly as I hoped it would be. I've been through so much in the last few years that I honestly believed I'd be in college before I ever really felt happy. But now, even after bullying and assault and heartbreak and a terrifying ordeal with a stalker, I feel like my life has finally reached the turning point and the only way is up.
I sort of owe it mostly to my wonderful boyfriend as well. He told me to trust people and not feel like I was overreacting when I believed I was losing my mind. He showed me that I had to believe in myself and my friends, to take strength from them. It showed me how many friends I truly had and just how wonderful they all were -even the crazy cheerleaders. I've never felt more accepted in all my life.
In short, to quote Kelly Clarkson, my life would suck without him, and simply put, I am utterly and completely in love with him.
Dear Captain Obvious,
I love you too.
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Not mine. No money. No affiliation.
"We need to talk." Ideally, they'd do this in a better setting, but his sister is due home in thirty minutes and Puck doesn't want to do it with her hovering around like the bad smell she sometimes is (seriously, it is a fight to get her into the bath ever since she watched some show about snakes in the sewer and how they can come up through the drains). So sitting in Puck's living room, the television muted is just how it's going to have to go.
"Are you dumping me? You're dumping me, aren't you. It's this stalker thing. It's okay, I understand." Kurt looks moderately dejected, staring at the floor and Puck just wants to hit himself for how he made that sound.
"Kurt, I'm not dumping you. No one is- well, I'm not dumping you. Okay?" There's the possibility the Kurt might dump him though so Puck's not promising anything
"You're not?"
"No, but," for all that Puck's learned to use words, he's not really got this talking thing down yet. Sure, he can write this shit now, and half of the time he means it too, but he's not gotten to the stage where he's all that comfortable with talking. It likely comes across wrong with Kurt, "Well, I need to tell you something."
"Did you cheat on me?" Wow, Kurt's just jumping all over the place, isn't he. "Noah, God, did you, was it-"
"No!" The frustration creeps into Puck's voice, because ever since he sort of accepted that he had feelings of the not so platonic nature for Kurt, he hasn't so much as considered a random hook up. This is a big deal for him. And not just because it's with a guy, but his first ever monogamous relationship which started before he was even in a relationship? Yeah, big deal. "No cheating, no dumping, no stealing, no changing my mind, okay. It's just-"
"Noah, seriously, if it’s none of those things, what is it?"
"They know about the letter, from the stalker, because he sent it to me." He says it in a rush, words almost merging together as he practically spits it out. Probably not the best idea.
"What?" Kurt has this ridiculously adorable bewildered expression on his face and if Puck didn't need to be serious right then, they'd be making out.
"The school advice column. It's my extra credit for class."
"What?"
"I sort of knew everything from the start."
"What?" Kurt's vocabulary seems to have abandoned him from the shock and that bewildered expression is losing the adorable factor and starting to become moderately annoying. As is the repetition.
"Can you seriously think of another word."
"I just, you said, I don't- What?"
"Oh for, you wrote that first letter in and I knew it was you. There was only one boy out at school who'd just transferred back from transferring out. It's actually not that hard to deduce these things, really. So when you wrote in, I knew what was going on. Before you actually told me." He's just going to get everything out and hope that Kurt's brain processes while he's sitting there in shock. "So, I knew about the stalker and stuff and then about, y'know the other thing, and well. I thought about telling you that it was me, but that was before you were, I don't know, showing interest? I just wasn't sure you'd actually listen if you knew who was giving the advice, okay? And I'm sorry, but-"
"You write the advice column? You're the one that smacked Finn with the clue-by-four about Rachel and Quinn? Who got Jenna Keys to flash Sam? Who told Santana to just wait for Brittany?" Kurt seems to just gloss over anything Puck just said and Puck has to smack himself in the face. "Hey, woah." Kurt grabs his hand on the third smack to pull it down. "I was listening, I promise, I was."
"Seriously," Puck sighed, letting his hand drop to his lap, wrist still held in a loose grip by Kurt, "it was just supposed to be extra credit, pull my grade up, knock up the GPA, keep me from falling below academic eligibility and all that. But, like, I don't know. It's kinda fun. When people aren't talking about killing themselves. Or me."
Kurt shuffles up until he's leaning in against Puck, wrapping his arm around Puck's arm and slipping his hand into Puck's to lace their fingers together. It's a little strange, just how comfortable Puck is with Kurt's little shows of affection; the hand holding, the half hug, leaning their heads together. He's never actually done any of the mushy stuff before. The most his 'affections' have been shown are make outs in the halls. But with Kurt, Puck can just go with it and it doesn't feel strained or forced or weird at all. He has realised that, even just two weeks in, he is utterly whipped.
"You were there for me, during a hard time, when I was sure I was being crazy. Really, I didn't know if I was just being stupid or not, but you really did help by making me not feel like I was over reacting. Just one person believing me, that was help on its own." So Kurt's not mad at him, they don't have a fight and things are fine. Which is pretty cool.
"You know what this means though, right?"
"What?" Kurt better not start that again.
"The write in. From the stalker. To the school paper."
"He's at school." Puck just nods as Kurt gets the hushed words out. "Should we, I mean, Mr Schue?"
"Maybe, I mean, I don't know half the teachers there, do you?" Kurt shakes his head, "So, maybe if we give Schue a description, you know, maybe he'll know who it is."
"What if he teaches one of my classes? What if he teaches one of yours?" Puck stops Kurt before he starts panicking.
"Okay, if he taught one of yours, you'd know. Because he'd be super creepy all the time and you'd figure it out. And, well, I don't really attend many of my classes. I think I'll be attending even less until he's caught." The only classes he'd be showing up to were the ones with female teachers, and journalism.
With the secrets out of the way, they get to enjoy the last ten minutes of quiet; the television is turned to something neither of them are watching and they make out on the couch like normal teenagers until Sarah bursts through the door shouting her triumphant return. Sarah meeting Kurt is only somewhat awkward because the pre-teen is a bundle of questions dying to get out. Kurt handles them pretty well and Sarah seems to accept Kurt.
"So, are you like Noah's girlfriend?"
"Um, sort of. I'm his boyfriend. Because we're both boys." Puck takes his time in the kitchen, making up Sarah's snack while his sister talks to Kurt in the living room.
"Are you Jewish?"
"No."
"You're pretty though. And I like your vest."
"Thank you, I think."
"Noah never brings people home. Well, he brought Quinn home, but that was because she was having Beth and needed a place to stay. And sometimes, Finn used to come over, but he doesn't do that much anymore." Sarah launches into a really long and rambling story about something or nothing, she even keeps going when Puck brings her the sandwich she wanted, mumbling through the bread in her mouth. By the time Sarah gets fed up with them and heads up to her room to play with her toys, Kurt probably knows everything there is to know about Sarah's school and her friends.
"She likes you." You can tell by the fact that she didn't bite him.
"What about your mom? I mean, you seemed a little worried, earlier on, when we were at school." It's not the Puck thinks his Ma won't accept it, it's just that he's a little worried about the whole 'disappointment' thing and he can't take another 'nice Jewish girl' speech.
"Ma and me have been good and stuff, right." Since the whole pregnant cheerleader that wasn't actually his girlfriend and then giving up Beth and his mood swings and finally juvie, Puck and his mother had their shares of ups and downs. But things had been pretty good lately. "It'll be an adjustment, but we'll be fine." His mother wasn't homophobic, she wasn't even all that judgemental about stuff like that (and the gays were persecuted just as much as the Jews so there was that whole thing too) so Puck wasn't worried per say.
"So, she won't be sending you to straight camp?"
"Um, no. She believes those are almost like concentration camps and never mention them in front of her unless you want to lose about nine hours of your life." His mother, the history buff, could wax poetic about that shit.
Finn comes to pick Kurt up an hour later, because no one lets Kurt go anywhere alone anymore and that will be happening even less now that psycho boy has insinuated homicidal tendencies. Kurt texts when he gets home and Puck goes back to the rest of the write ins, hoping to hell that psycho dude is caught really fucking soon.
---
Dear My Last Hope.
I'm seventeen. I've been with my boyfriend for almost a year now. He's the only guy I've ever been with. I know that I love him, but sometimes, I'm not sure if he loves me. We've been together for a long time, by high school standards, and I get the feeling that he's getting tired of me. He's suggested that I change my appearance before -I was blond but I dyed my hair brown because he said he likes brunettes, I never used to wear eye make-up, but he said he prefers it. I caught him staring at a girl with larger breasts than me, when I asked him about it, he said he prefers a girl with a bigger bust than I have.
My friends are telling me that if I love him I should listen to him, but I think plastic surgery is a little bit extreme. I do want to keep my boyfriend, but I worry that he'll keep making suggestions if I listen to him about this. What should I do?
Dear Slightly Deluded;
You are seventeen. What the hell do you think you're doing considering plastic surgery for an asshole that can't appreciate you the way you are? Sure, this guy likes brunettes and girls with panda eyes and big tits. But seriously, what are you doing with a guy who doesn't like you the way you are? You're still young, you've got your whole life to change your appearance and 'find yourself', you're not meant to do it in high school because the douche your seeing wants you to look a certain way.
Big no to the breast enlargement, kiddo. These things are serious, there are major repercussions and possible health issues that could arise later. And what's to say you guys even stay together? In five years’ time all you'll have is gunge filled eyes, brown hair you hate and bigger boobs. Is this really what you want?
Stand up for yourself, you're not your appearance. If he can't be with you for who you are and not what you look like, really, you guys are doomed already.
It's kind of remarkable just how much he's grown up since he started doing this stupid column. Things he said to people before and what he says now. He can't really pinpoint when he stopped being a conceited ass himself. It probably sparked from trying to give decent advice to pull up his grade and considering what he'd say if this was Sarah. He's pretty sure that if his sister every tried to change how she looked for some stupid boy he'd have to kill the little shit. Just on principle.
"You know, I can kind of understand why no one has figured this out." Kurt and him are in the library, because it's quiet and the librarian is an old maid with a soft spot for Kurt and thus not some psycho stalker. The school paper is spread out in front of them with this week’s prints published and Kurt is just reading through them. "I mean, you seriously write this?"
"Shut up, I can be helpful." Sure, not all the time and more often than not he sticks to his usual instinct of being completely unhelpful with his suggestions because it's just who he is. If he changed too much, people might start to freak out. "Besides you and San, no one else knows."
"You told Santana?"
"Nah, she figured it out. Not exactly hard." Not when she knew him as well as she did. And that was pretty fucking well. Him and San were probably the only two people who really understood each other inside and out. "Shit, I gotta go, mandatory career advisement meeting." He shook his head, clearing up his history notes and leaning over the table to kiss Kurt quick. "Mercy is meeting you, right?"
"Yeah, her and Tina, we're planning something for glee." It's supposedly this big surprise and Puck just shakes his head with a smirk. "And then I'll be talking to Mr Schue about the stalker and him being on the faculty." Puck's smirk fades as he nods his head once, promising to try and make it for that discussion. He doesn't really get why they need to do the careers advisement in their junior year, since it had always been done in senior year before. But he has his and he's pretty sure Kurt has one later today and Finn mentioned something about a meeting. Maybe they're just speeding up the process or whatever, but Puck makes his way to the designated classroom he was told to attend to speak with the careers adviser.
What's really weird is that it's not in the guidance area like Miss P's office. That would make sense since the whole thing is a sort of guidance, right? So the fact that it’s in the music department is a little questionable. But Figgins is cheap, so maybe one of the music teachers doubles as the career adviser and it's just easier to do this shit in their classroom? Puck's still talking himself into it not being messed up beyond all belief when he knocks on the door and steps inside. The annoying thing about these rooms are the sound proofing. Yeah, it makes sense cause who the fuck can concentrate on their composition while someone is mutilating a jazz number on the trombone in the next class room, but still. The blackout curtains are a little extreme, right?
"Hello?" No seriously, he's totally not cool with any of this. Even less so when the door slams shut and a sudden smack of something to the side of his head sends Puck into one of the desks before his vision blacks and he ends up on the floor. Yeah, totally not kosher right there.
"Noah Puckerman, McKinley Titan's running back, former juvenile delinquent, self-professed stud and man-whore of Lima." Puck's vision hasn't exactly come back to him yet, but he's pretty sure that the short, scrawny guy standing over him with a fucking baseball bat is the same guy that nailed his truck with the bat. Sweet mother of, didn't they screen teachers for mental instability?
"That would be me." His skull is throbbing, like seriously, he can feel the pulse of his blood in the side of his head. "And you are?"
"Not impressed." There's this creepy sort of tone going on there and Puck's trying to pull himself up to his feet when the bat comes down on his already fucking damaged thigh and his leg gives out. He's sprawled back on the ground with a shout of pain, because the muscle is spazzing out again and fucking Christ that was just getting back to normal. "I don't know what he sees in you," the whack job crouches down, tilting his head like he's considering something, "What did you say to him? How did you do it? What kind of lies did you tell him?" It's not hard to figure out who this guy is talking about, and Puck's remembered that Kurt has a meeting with this guy later on. Fuck.
"Didn't lie about jack shit. He just knows that you're fucking psycho." If he could, maybe, get this whack pot away from him, he could fire off a text message right? It doesn't need to be to Kurt, Mercy or Tina or Finn, they could make sure Kurt didn't go to the meeting and someone could call the fucking cops on this nut and things would be taken care of, right?
"Well," the tone goes cold and Puck curses himself for letting his mouth get away from himself again. "That wasn't very nice." The bat comes down towards his skull and the pain just explodes around his temple before everything blacks out.
---
There's this brief moment, when a hand touches his shoulder that Puck wakes up. There's a light shone in his eyes, his name is repeated a few times and there murmurings around him. He can't actually think well enough to formulate a response. His limbs don't respond and he can't utter a word. The next thing he knows he's moving, but not walking or anything. It feels like he's on a bed, but he can sort of feel the movement. Stretcher. It comes to him slowly. He's on a stretcher, being wheeled somewhere. Hospital is most likely considering the agony in his general head area. And his leg. Fuck, that's probably buggered all over again.
"Who did it?"
"Has anyone heard anything?"
"Is this about him dating Kurt Hummel?"
"I thought the bullying was over?"
"Puck? Puck, oh God, is he okay, what's going on, where are you taking him?"
"Has anyone seen Kurt?"
Puck zones out to the frantic noise of Finn's voice. He really wishes he could stay awake long enough to panic.
---
The next time Puck wakes up, he's ready to hurl.
"Come on, to the right." He hears his mother’s voice and then there's the press of a bowl under his chin and he just empties his stomach of whatever there is. Her hand smooth’s over the back of his head as he leans over, heaving and retching when there's nothing left to bring up. "Sip it, okay, just sips." There's a straw in his mouth to clear out the taste and Puck spits that out before taking a careful sip to cool the burning along his throat.
"Ma?" He doesn't have the energy to sit up, just leaning back into the bed and closing his eyes against the glare of the lights. "Wha' happened?"
"That man attacked you." Careers adviser, Kurt, oh shit.
"Kurt?"
"He's okay, it's okay. The police got there in time, everything is okay." Jesus Christ, the police got there? There was a there to get to? What did 'in time' mean? "Honey, just breath, it's okay. Kurt is fine, he's worried about you. The attacker is in police custody, he's being charged with a mountain of felonies. He's going to jail. Not least because he crack your head open." That was probably why it felt like his head was stapled together.
"How long've I been here?"
"You've been unconscious for three days, baby." His Ma starts telling him about everything that happened. How Mercedes and Tina never found Kurt in the library, how Puck hadn't been found until last period when the class was about to be used, how his skull had been cracked open and the blood had pooled in the room, how Kurt had been missing for almost nine hours before the police stormed the listed address and found him tied to a chair and crying. Puck felt his stomach roll again, but there was nothing to bring up and his Ma just popped some ice chips in his mouth. "Kurt will be here in the morning. They discharged him yesterday, but he keeps coming back to see you." Her hand ran over the back of his head and he figured she was avoiding the front of his head because that cracked.
"They shaved my head again, didn't they?" It's not a big deal, but it gets a laugh of out her. Enough that it seems to break her out of whatever it is she's thinking. Puck can tell when she starts doubting herself and stuff, she gets this hollow look in her eyes and it's hard to pull her out of those times.
"I like him," she whispers it somewhere around dawn, because Puck woke up around three in the morning, and now he's really just not tired. "Kurt, I mean. I was a little unsure, at first. You dating another boy. But he's sweet. Sarah likes him, she hugged him and wouldn't let go while we waited for some news on you." Oh yeah, brain surgery, stop the swelling, release the pressure. He literally had a hole in his fucking head now.
Visiting hours aren't until the afternoon, but his Ma knows most of the nurses on his ward, which means when Kurt shows up at half eight in the morning, he's just allowed straight into the room. There's surprise on his face when Puck shuffles up the bed until he's sitting and then this relieved wave and smile seems to spread over his face. Kurt's up on the side of Puck's bed with his arms carefully around Puck's neck in a hug and mumbling something into Puck's cheek. The only thing that Puck is focusing on is the fact that Kurt is right there.
"You scared the life out of me."
"Sorry." Kurt has bruises around his wrists, he waves them off as nothing compared to a broken skull. There are also little bruises on his jaw line and Puck frowns at them.
"Tight grip. It's okay though, really. The address that the school had matched up with the address from the IP you gave them. He talked a lot, and it was creepy, but I think you took the brunt of things."
"Turns out, I don't think before I speak." If he had, maybe he could've stalled longer to let Mercedes and Tina find Kurt and then the nut wouldn't have had the chance to snatch Kurt. Instead, Kurt went through nine hours of kidnapping and listening to the guy while Puck bled on a classroom floor. Yeah, he should definitely engage his brain (since everyone knows he has one now) before he starts talking.
"We'll work on that."
Puck's surprised that he can even feel tired, but somewhere around ten, he starts to fall asleep. Kurt just snuggles into his side, arm over Puck's waist, head on Puck's shoulder and Puck's arm around Kurt's shoulders. No one could move them if they tried. And apparently, Rachel tried when the glee club came to visit which just prompted Kurt to turn pink and Puck to flip them the bird. He was injured damnit, he deserved some time to cuddle with his boyfriend until his head closed up and the room wasn't in muted colours.
Santana, being the blessed demon woman that she was, herded the club out to come back when Puck was feeling a little more lively and less like a big fluffy teddy bear.
---
Dear Advice Columnist,
I am in an abusive relationship. That was hard to just write. I've never told anyone. I don't know how to. My friends try to tell me to dump my boyfriend, but I'm scared.
He says things to me, he hits me and controls everything I do. I know that it's not healthy, I've seen the adverts and movies and shows on television. I always thought that women who stay in abusive relationships were stupid, that they were weak and silly. But in truth, it's hard. It's hard to admit to anyone that he's doing this. It's hard to admit that I'm not in control of my own decisions. I don't know how to tell anyone, I don't know how to be strong enough.
I just don't know what to do.
Dear Starting to Realise,
Polls done in the US suggest that 20% of teenagers between 16 and 18 have been or are in an abusive relationship. You are not alone. However, you will be if you don't break away.
It's hard, yes, but those friends that tell you to dump him, they know what they're talking about. You have to know that if he loved you he wouldn't be doing these things to you. If he loved you, you wouldn't be scared of him. It's not about being brave, or being strong, it's about respecting yourself enough to know that you do not deserve this and he is wrong. There are helplines to get more tailored advice to your situation, counselling classes to help you move past it and most importantly, a police number attached to report him for domestic abuse. If he's done it to you, he will do it again, or has done it before.
You are better than his cruel words, hateful attacks and controlling ways. Turn to those friends, they'll help you though and support you. And of course, you have my email.
Let me know how it goes.
The bad thing about being stuck at home until the after effects of his head injury fade? Hours and hours with nothing to do. Kurt brings home his homework, he could do without that, but hey, it's getting to the point where even that isn't enough. He gets to watch stupid shows with his sister, learn Hannah Montana songs on the guitar for her to sing along to, watch Project Runway -which Kurt got Sarah into (but then Kurt also got Sarah to appreciate hygiene so she's more likely to actually wash every night rather than be forced to) and episodes of Drop Dead Diva with his mother who is moderately obsessed with the show.
Kurt is over almost every day, getting back to his usual flamboyant self -even after Burt insisted that Kurt see a therapist for a few weeks after this whole thing and Kurt pitched a fit before actually going and discovering that maybe he did have a few things to go there about after all. It was this whole big thing that basically had Kurt pacing in Puck's room for an hour and a half talking at length about how his Dad just didn't understanding. Puck had called in Mercedes as back up. It took her thirteen minutes and one mention of some 'Alexander McQueen' guy before Kurt was agreeing to go and the three of them ended up watching Curb Your Enthusiasm in his room.
Everyone at school has figured out that Puck and Kurt are dating, everyone at school found out that Mr Rossie, one of the music teachers, was a big creep that stalked Kurt. Kurt's in therapy and Puck's got three sessions of physical therapy a week for his leg because the muscle went into full seize and trying to get it back to normal is a bitch and a half. On the plus side, Mr Orson, his journalism teacher has already gave him his first ever A for a passing grade. Puck doesn't care why he's getting an A, he just knows that his GPA took a definite increase and his Ma couldn't be happier.
"How do you intend to dance?" His first day back at school, on the crutches again, Puck stares at Rachel. "I mean, obviously I'm glad you're well, and that the damage isn't permanent, but, we have Nationals soon and,"
"I'm sure I'll manage, so long as we don't put in anything else more complicated, okay?" Rachel accepts it, gives him a hug and tells him that he is very brave before waltzing off wherever to practice her scales or inform Mercedes about a flat note or something. Girl runs hot and cold worse than a clinically bipolar nut.
"Are you sure participating in Nationals is a good idea?" Kurt's still over protective, it's like this major swing and change in their dynamic, but it's kind of cool too. His boy can go from lovable sweetheart to Head-Bitch-in-Charge in an instant and frankly, that is a total turn on.
"Yeah, I've got the steps down and stuff, and Schue's already worked it around the movement I can make, so it's all good." And he was partnered up with Mercedes, so it worked out well enough, he could lean on her when he needed without it being obvious and she wouldn't mind. "Listen I gotta do something, meet me in History?" Kurt nods and smiles, heading off towards class without worry this time and Puck sort of hobbles towards one of the girls from Cheerio’s. See, Puck can sort of tell when make-up is used for cover up -he'd seen his Ma do it enough times when he was younger that he just knew. And Theresa Kiernan wasn't as good at it as his Ma.
"Hey, Theresa," the blond turned to him, looking around with wide eyes, "are you dating anyone?" Yeah, so it's not the first time he's done that whole 'stepping outside the advice box' and the last time worked out pretty well -see Brittana power couple, please and thank you. So he's not exactly bothered about doing it again.
"Um, aren't you dating Kurt Hummel?"
"Oh, yeah, I am. Sorry, I'm not asking for me," Theresa nods shyly -she never used to be shy, she used to be like Quinn without the ice queen heart. "It's just, you know Tony Becker? On the football team?" Theresa nods slowly, "Well, he won't shut the hell up about how much he likes you, it's starting to get nauseating, you know, in that talks too much about birds and flowers and candy and shit? Well, I figured, if you're not dating anyone, you'd y'know, maybe be interested in going out with him? Seriously, you'd be doing us a huge favour, and he's not exactly an awful guy. He's pretty good with all that chick stuff too, cause he's got like five little sisters that he practically helped raise." Fact one, Tony is not huge, he's kind of lanky in a Finn Hudson way, but not tall and imposing. Fact two, Tony has dated three girls in high school and stayed friends with all of them. Fact three, those five little sisters? Tony would probably kill for them, but it also makes him almost chick like with the whole sensitivity stuff.
Theresa and her boyfriend -Mitch Duncan from the hockey team, recently split and she has been avoiding him and his rage all week. Puck knows that the asshole is the bastard hitting her. "Think about it yeah? He'd be pretty good for you, y'know, the way he practically writes poetry about how amazing you are."
There's a blush on her cheeks as Puck heads off towards History, giving Santana a nod as they pass. For all that Puck wants to beat the ever loving fuck out of Duncan he knows for a fact that what Santana can dish out is way worse -both of them understand the repercussions of domestic abuse and neither of them will just turn away from that shit.
"Who's life are you poking into now?" Kurt, for all his scheming ways, is very good at recognising Puck's scheme face.
"What? Me? I'm innocent of all speculation you have, Kurt. You can't prove anything."
"You are such a big softy."
"Bite your tongue, someone might hear."
"Everyone will know when you take me to Prom and dance with me in front of the whole school." Kurt's all smug and shit, waving their Prom tickets in front of Puck just as the teacher walks in.
"Oh, I'm taking you to Prom am I?"
"Yup. You have to, it's in the script." Kurt counts off the points on his fingers, "While hiding your identity your offered solace and advice, inherently saving my life from the evil villain and eventually, you know, falling in love with me?" Puck's pretty sure Kurt didn't mean for that to become a question.
"Okay, so with all of that standing true, you're likening yourself to a damsel in distress and me to a superhero, you do realise this, right?"
"Will the superhero dance with the damsel at Prom?"
"Yeah," Puck bumps their shoulders together while the teacher prattles on about the Russian Revolution, "he'll do more than dance." Puck intends to make sure that Kurt's Prom is the best night of his life.
---
Dear Fabulously Gifted and Deep Soul;
For once, my life is exactly as I hoped it would be. I've been through so much in the last few years that I honestly believed I'd be in college before I ever really felt happy. But now, even after bullying and assault and heartbreak and a terrifying ordeal with a stalker, I feel like my life has finally reached the turning point and the only way is up.
I sort of owe it mostly to my wonderful boyfriend as well. He told me to trust people and not feel like I was overreacting when I believed I was losing my mind. He showed me that I had to believe in myself and my friends, to take strength from them. It showed me how many friends I truly had and just how wonderful they all were -even the crazy cheerleaders. I've never felt more accepted in all my life.
In short, to quote Kelly Clarkson, my life would suck without him, and simply put, I am utterly and completely in love with him.
Dear Captain Obvious,
I love you too.