Struck By Love

By Mischel

Romance / Humor

Rainy Stories

One day later, on Thursday, I'm waiting in the parking lot for Kurt. I wonder how many times it's been that I've waited here for him. Or that he's waited here for me. Even though Kurt hates the parking lot, it's become a place where we meet each other almost every day after school. He always drives to his grandma when I have Glee, and that's where we'll soon be heading to.

I smile when I see him in the entrance of the school, he's frowning at people around him. His hair is tousled a little and he's wearing his blue hoodie with a bag around his shoulder. He always wears something blue.

I wave at him and he immediately waves back, smiling all of a sudden.

When I was little, I heard some old man saying that when a girl smiles at you every time she sees you, then she's the one. Well, in my case it's a boy, not a girl, but it doesn't change the fact that Kurt smiles at me every time and I always smile back. I... I think that he's the one. The one I've been waiting for my whole life.

"Hey, what are you thinking about?" He asks and only then I realize that he's already standing right in front of me. I smile at him and he smiles too.

"You." I reply. His smile gets even bigger and he kisses me, right on the lips. "Come on, we've got to go." I laugh when he doesn't stop kissing me.

"Don't wanna," He mumbles against my lips and I pull away, making him groan.

"But I want to meet your grandma." I smile. He rolls his eyes.

"Okay."

Then we both get into the car and Kurt starts it. We're driving mostly in silence, but it's not that awkward silence, it's comfortable like this. After a few minutes I speak up.

"Do you think she'll like me?"

"Of course!" He says. "Blaine, she doesn't even know who I am, she thinks that I'm just her grandson's friend. Well, much older friend. It's gonna be for her as if her grandson's friend got himself a boyfriend. Nothing else."

"Yeah," I sigh. "I wish she knew who I was. And who you are. I wish she could see us like your mom does." I smile sadly at him.

"Yeah," He whispers so quietly that I almost don't hear it. "Me too."

After a few minutes we're finally there, at the Clover Assisted Living Home. Kurt parks the car and we get out. Then we walk into the building and up the stairs, to the left and then we stop in front of a white door. I look at Kurt – he's smiling. Then he knocks.

"Come in!" Says an old woman's voice. Kurt opens the door and goes inside, I follow him slowly. The room isn't big, but it's enough. There's a little table and a closet for clothes. In the middle is a bed that's leaning against the wall and in the bed is an old woman, Kurt's grandma.

"Hi grandma." Kurt greets.

"Hello there," she smiles at us and stands up. "Who are you?" She asks then, looking at Kurt.

"I'm Carson, your grandson." Kurt says.

His grandma looks at him and slowly takes his hand. "No, you can't be my grandson." She explains with patience. "My grandson is a little boy." She says then. "Are you his teacher? Did he do something? I'm telling you, Carson is a good boy."

"No, no I'm not his teacher." Kurt laughs, but it isn't happy. It's sad.

"Are you his friend?" She asks then.

Kurt nods. "Yeah," he smiles. "Yeah you got me, I'm his friend."

"That's good. That Carson has friends. Everybody needs a friend sometimes. You know, he's been so sad lately. I think it's because of his parents, they're always arguing." She says.

"Well, he's happy now." Kurt assures her and squeezes her hand. She smiles at him.

"I'm very glad to hear that. But he never comes to visit me anymore." She says sadly. I can see how this stabbed Kurt right in the heart. He's here, he's right here, holding her hand. If only she could see that. "You know," She suddenly continues. "He used to write me stories." Kurt and I laugh. "I remember the first story he ever wrote me." She clears her throat and looks out of the window. "Once upon a time, there was a boy." She chuckles. "I told him it could use a little development, so the next day he brought me another story. Once upon a time, there was a boy who wanted to fly."

"That's beautiful," I smile at her.

"And who are you?" She asks, looking at me curiously.

"Erm," Kurt laughs and with his other hand reaches for my hand. I take it and squeeze. "That's my boyfriend." He says and looks at his grandma, waiting for her reaction.

She looks at him and then at me and then at our hands. Then she smiles slowly. "That is your boyfriend?" She asks Kurt.

"Yes," Kurt answers and smiles. "He's a very good person." He says and I blush.

"I'm sure he is." She says. "It's so beautiful that you two found love." She smiles at us and takes my other hand, finishing the circle. "You know where you two should go?" She suddenly whispers.

Kurt and I lean forward and then she says, "Go to the yellow house at the end of the William Street." She winks. "It used to be a gay bar."

Kurt and I start laughing and his grandma joins us after a while. "I had some really adventurous and curious friends, you know? When I was young, oh I miss that. Being young." She laughs. "But at least all I have to worry about now is my back and medicines." She smiles. "No bills."

We stay at the Clover Assisted Living Home for another half an hour, then we both say goodbye and go outside. The wind is blowing hard, maybe it will rain, but that doesn't stop us from stopping at the coffee shop on our way home.

As we park the car outside the shop, it's already raining, but just a little bit, not much yet.

"Looks like a storm is coming." Kurt says and points at the sky behind us. There's a huge black cloud all over the horizon.

"Yeah, we should probably hurry." I say.

"I don't mind getting wet, do you?" Kurt asks and smiles at me. I smile back.

"Not at all," I say and take his hand as we go inside. I order the coffee and then we take a seat near the window. When I look outside, it's already raining. Seems that we'll get wet anyway.

"Your grandma is really nice." I smile at him and take his hand.

"She is," Kurt answers, looking down into his bag and pulling some papers out. "I really used to write her stories, you know?" He smiles at me. "I wonder how does she even remember the first one. I didn't."

"That's because she loves you." I say and squeeze his hand.

"Yeah," he smiles a bit sadly. "You know, I think I was a pretty good writer even when I was eight years old, now even better, but some people aren't able to write anything logic." He laughs.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"Well, one girl, a cheerleader," he says and points at the papers in his hand. "Came to me yesterday and wrote about Justin Bieber, apparently she wants to marry him some day, and I think she's dead serious."

"You're kidding." I laugh. "I mean, that's crazy."

"Yeah, it seems that she drives over to his house every weekend with other fangirls and just stays there for hours, staring through the gates, waiting for him to come outside. It's creepy."

"It's weird." I say and take those papers from his hand to look at it. The first sentence that I read is:

It was great: We were gabbing about Selena Gomez (who will always be known to me as "the other woman") and we blasted his music from a mobile iHome and predicted future Grammy nominations for his latest album, the usual.

"Wait, hear this." Kurt says and grabs the papers back. He searches for a few seconds between the paragraphs and then when he finds what he was looking for, he clears his throat and reads aloud.

"I believe you're in my spot, Miss Morgan," Renee said to me. Which was a total lie – everyone knows the twenty-eight to thirty-first iron bars on the east side of his house's gate is my area.

We both start laughing, and then the waitress finally brings us our coffee. We thank her and I pay and then we both take a sip.

"Does she seriously think that he's gonna come outside to see her?" I laugh.

"Yeah," Kurt laughs too, "and be like 'Girl, I've watched you watching me for months now and I think I love you.'" It seems like we can't stop laughing. "Seriously, why aren't her parents doing their job, where are they," Kurt says and takes another sip. "Youth is not an excuse for insanity."

"No, wait, that's not true." I say and the way he looks up at me makes it so much harder to keep my face straight. "I am insane." I tell him and lean a bit closer. "I'm crazy. I'm crazy about you." I say and Kurt blushes immediately and looks down with the most adorable smile on his face.

"And I am about you." He says as he looks up at me and kisses me, not caring about other people in the shop. It's a quick kiss, but it means everything. It means love.

"Oh no," Kurt suddenly says as we pull apart.

"What?" I ask.

"I forgot to show my grandma the poem." He says and starts flipping through the papers on the table.

"Yours?" I ask, looking at the papers and essays. I have to admit, he has a lot of them. How many cheerleaders and football players is even in this school?

"No," he says and grins when he finally finds it. "Some jock came to me earlier today and turned in a submission for the magazine. I thought it was cute and innocent poem about his dog, but after some further reflection I'm convinced it's about... well, read it yourself."

I look at him suspiciously and take the paper. Then I look at it and when I'm finished reading it, I burst out laughing all over again.

You greet me in the morning,
Wanting to play,
Then stay with me hanging,
For the rest of the day.

The same things stimulate us,
That's very true,
We spend time together,
Wish I had two of you.

You'll always be my best bud
Until the end,
Thanks for always being
My special little friend.

Kurt starts laughing with me again. "That's gross." I laugh.

"Yeah it is," He laughs. "I can't believe he actually wrote something like this and that I'm going to put it into the Literary Magazine."

"Wait, you are?" I ask, still smiling widely.

"Of course, I mean, it's horrible... but at least it's funny."

"That's true." We laugh again and as I want to take another sip I suddenly freeze. Kurt looks at me, clearly worried, but I can't stop looking at him. That man, right in the entrance of the shop.

Dad.

I know that Kurt already knows who am I looking at because I feel his fingers sneaking in between mine. He squeezes my hand and says something. I think he suggests that we go back to the car even if it's raining.

I want to nod, but my head doesn't move. I gasp when I see that my dad noticed us. He looks me in the eyes, then at Kurt and at our joined hands.

"It's okay, Blaine." I hear Kurt's voice. "It's okay, we can leave now." He says and with his other hand takes his bag. My dad is still looking at me and he frowns with a clear disgust on his face. And I can't bear it. Not now, when I finally felt alright again. I feel a tear roll down my face before Kurt catches it with his thumb. That's when I finally look into his eyes. He's already standing, so I stand too, and we walk out of the shop, still holding hands and avoiding my dad as best as we can, ignoring him calling my name.

Suddenly the rain doesn't feel that okay at all. It hides my tears, but it's cold and I just want to go home.

Our home.

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