Struck By Love

Your Teenage Dream

You might wonder why I agreed to go out with that new kid Blaine. Yes, I said go out, and yes, I know what he's trying to do. It's hard to miss really. After he left and I started to write the Chronicle, I went to the bathroom and guess who I found there! SCOTT THOMAS and NICHOLAS FORBES making out! Take a minute to breathe – I needed to.

I guess I wasn't that surprised to find them there after all, but after I made them write for my Chronicle, it suddenly hit me. The way Blaine was looking at me, or when he said that he wanted to join the Writers' club and when I asked him why, when he himself said that he can't write... he turned red like tomato and was staring at me as if I had just told him that Malerie has a footage of him naked.

I can't really blame him, I mean – I'm very attractive and beyond talented, and he's new at school so he doesn't know me that well yet. I don't know, should I try it with him? Maybe he could turn into a good friend if nothing else.

I thought I was gay for about a week once (I think everyone does at one point). But I think it was just the girls around me that I found repulsive. But I don't necessarily consider myself a virgin, probably because I have such a penetrating personality. And do I really want to experience something like intercourse or just a relationship for the first time with someone in Clover? Whom I'll awkwardly be connected to for the rest of my life? How would I get to Northwestern then without a break up, really.

I sigh and cover myself with a blanket. It's after midnight and I can't get my own brain to shut up. It just keeps thinking about Blaine.

Blaine. Blaine. Blaineeee...

Kurt. Kurt. Kuuuuurt...

I can't stop thinking about him. I'm lying in my bed and it's already past midnight. I still can't believe it, he actually agreed to come over and show me how to write! Should I show him how to sing in exchange? Maybe...

But what song should I sing then? I've only written two songs so far, Rise and This Time, but I have a few ideas for more. I don't think I should sing him my own songs though, rather something that he already knows. Teenage Dream? Maybe? Or is it too romantic? Maybe he would think then that he really makes me feel like I'm living a teenage dream. Which is actually quite true...

Oh God, what have I done? I won't be able to control myself, either I'll start kissing him the first time he's too close or I'll blush in front of him again and embarrass myself. Ugh.

I feel my eyes slowly closing... Maybe I'll dream about Kurt. I hope I'll dream about Kurt...

Gosh, I'm dreaming about Kurt.


It took two days till I finally called Blaine and told him that I'm free to go to his house. It's Wednesday and it's after dinner, but I really had no time any earlier. Since Ms. Sharpton told me today that I had to do a literary magazine to better my chances in getting to Northwestern, I wasn't able to think about anything else. I'm still thinking about it. I've already managed to get a permission from the principal and money from my mother, now all I have to do is the peer participation, and I have no idea how the hell am I going to manage that. And the ASSembly is tomorrow. No, that's not a typo, I say "ASSembly" because it brings out the ass in everyone who attends.

So I guess I could use a little distraction, especially after I just found out that I was drugged half of my childhood, and that's why I'm standing in front of Blaine's house with a paper in my hand. There's his address on it that he told me when I called him half an hour ago. He doesn't live that far away from my house.

After a minute or so the door opens and Blaine's head peeks out. He grins and says, "Hi, Kurt." I have to admit, he's adorable right now. He looks like he has no idea what he's doing and neither do I.

"Hey," I say and come inside.

"My room is this way," he gestures to the stairs and adds, "my parents aren't home tonight, so you'll be spared of meeting my father."

"Is your dad that bad?" I ask, already following him upstairs. He doesn't turn around, probably to hide the hurt on his face when he says:

"He wasn't really a great dad. But it got worse since I came out of the closet and told him I was gay-" Bingo, I was right, he's definitely after me. "-and sometimes it feels like he doesn't even care if I died tomorrow." Blaine continues.

"Don't worry." I smile slightly. "I have shitty parents too. Mom's unstable since dad left us when I was ten. I swear the whole neighborhood remembers that night." I hear him chuckle softly. Then he quickly adds I'm sorry and finally opens the door to his room.

It isn't a big one, but it's definitely bigger than mine. And it's really clean, probably because he hasn't properly moved in yet. There is a pile of boxes in the corner of the room, with only a few books and school stuff out. And a little piano near his desk. It's quite lovely.

"Um, sorry for those boxes," he mumbles and gestures to them. "I have a lot of stuff and I haven't finished unpacking them all yet."

"It's okay," I say, "you didn't see my room, that's something completely different." I smile at him. He smiles back. "So," I clear my throat and sit on his bed. "Where do we start?" I ask.

"I don't know," he admits and looks at me, completely lost. I look at him too and suddenly he blushes and clears his throat, quickly looking away. I chuckle. It's so obvious that he likes me, it's right on his face.

Suddenly I stand up and sit to the piano.

"You can play?" He asks amused.

"Not a single note." I answer and place my hands gently on the white and black keys. It's a bit weird, I've never even touched a piano before. My parents were always arguing, there was simply no time for music, and I never even thought about it.

I push one of the keys down and it makes a sound. It's quite nice. I look around and see some papers with some musical notes on them. I take them.

"What are those?" I ask.

"Um, just a few songs I like to play. Plus some that I wrote myself." He says and looks a bit embarrassed. I ignore him and put them in front of me. I have no idea what to do with my hands, or how to read those small black points on the paper, but I can read the words that Blaine has written there.

These walls and all these picture frames
Every name they show
These halls I've walked a thousand times
Heartbreaks and valentines, friends of mine all know.

It continues a few more paragraphs down to the end of the paper and even on the other side of it. I have to admit, it's quite good. If he started writing poems like this, I would gladly add them to the Chronicle. "What song is this?" I ask.

"Oh, it's called 'This Time'." He says, "I wrote it, but it's not finished yet." He quickly adds and takes another chair to sit next to me. "Do you want me to play it?" He asks.

"I don't know," I honestly answer. I don't want to stay here too long, I should think of what to say on tomorrow's ASSembly, but it's been nice here so far. "Maybe this one?" I say, pulling out another paper. It's called Teenage Dream. I look at him and I can see that he's a bit nervous. He shifts in his seat and finally gets up, mumbling silently okay.

I stand up and we switch chairs, so he can sit closer to the piano. He sits down and puts his fingers on the keys. He takes a deep breath and slowly starts playing.

I have to admit, it's beautiful. The sound that he's able to create just from touching the right keys. And then he starts singing.

Before you met me, I was alright
But things were kinda heavy, you brought me to life
Now every February you'll be my valentine, valentine

Let's go all the way tonight
No regrets, just love
We can dance until we die
You and I, we'll be young forever

I don't know how to describe this. For the first time in my entire life, words just aren't enough because his voice is... it sounds like... I don't know. I can't find the right words. For the first time I don't know what words to use and that scares me just a little bit, but then I look at him and listen to his voice again and it's all gone.

You make me feel like I'm living a teenage dream
The way you turn me on, I can't sleep
Let's runaway and don't ever look back
Don't ever look back

And suddenly I know why he was so nervous before he started playing. Am I his teenage dream?

My heart stops when you look at me
Just one touch, now baby I believe
This is real, so take a chance
And don't ever look back, don't ever look back

I'mma get your heart racing in my skin-tight jeans
Be your teenage dream tonight
Let you put your hands on me in my skin-tight jeans
Be your teenage dream tonight

Then he stops and slowly looks at me, shyly. I'm still staring at him, so I quickly clear my throat and smile a bit.

"So?" He asks. "What do you think?" He turns to me completely. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. He just keeps looking at me, waiting for me to answer and I hate myself for admitting this, but maybe I was wrong. I think I'll have to reconsider what I stated earlier – I said that I thought I was gay for about a week once, and that it was just girls around me that I found repulsive. I said that I didn't want a relationship because I thought it would just get everything even more complicated. What I didn't think about was that maybe, maybe I just didn't know the right person.

Maybe I really am lonely.

"Kurt?" He asks again; he looks a bit worried.

"Yes!" I recover from the moment of uncertainty and look away. "Um, yes, it wasn't bad, now do you want me to tell you how to write or not?" I say and sit on the other side of his bed. He sits next to me and for a few seconds it makes me wonder if this is what it feels like to be on one of those girls' slumber parties. Not that I would ever want to be on one, I just don't get what are they talking about the whole time. Nails? Hair? Orgies?

"So," He starts. "I've found a few old Chronicles in the art classes yesterday and I couldn't help but read a few articles."

Oh, art classes. So Dwayne really wasn't lying, they use it to papier-mâché things. I guess I was right when I thought that he's too braindead to be purposely snarky.

"Really?" I ask after a while. "Well, seems like you're first, because no one reads the Chronicle anyway."

"And I really like your style." He smiles at me, ignoring my last comment. "I've never tried to write anything, but after I have, on Sunday, I can't help but wonder how are you able to put all those words together?" He's gesturing with his hands a bit awkwardly. "It's amazing."

"Well, like I told Malerie, don't try to find the ideas, let the ideas find you." I say. Honestly I don't even know what I'm talking about, but it's nice to try to explain it to someone who's willing to listen. "It's one of the most amazing experiences, finding something to write about, or realizing something for the first time. It comes out of nowhere and just hits you. Then it's all you can think about and it goes through your body and tries to escape and be expressed in any way possible... It's a lot like... like..."

"Lightning?" Blaine asks me, and when I smile at him I suddenly realize how close he is.

"Yeah," I say, my voice is just barely above a whisper. "Like lightning." I continue staring at him. His eyes are so warm and kind. It almost looks as if Green and Brown have met and started a battle for dominance. I slightly feel my head leaning towards him, as if he was a magnet and I couldn't resist him.

Maybe I've been lonely for too long.

And that's it. That's the moment that I really didn't expect to happen tonight because I look at his lips and gosh, his lips look delicious. I have never ever thought like that about any person before and it scares me a little, but when I close my eyes and in the next second our lips are touching, I don't care. In that moment I don't care that I have to worry about my future and the literary magazine. I don't care that I'll have to break up with him if we start dating to get to Northwestern, in that moment, all that matters is that I've never kissed anyone before and that his lips are just as delicious as they looked like just a few seconds ago.

The time stops. Everything's silent. It's just me and him and his fingers in my hair and my hands on his cheeks. I can't make myself stop when he starts moving his lips against mine, so I do the same. It's like the beauty of the whole universe focused its magical power only here, between us.



Suddenly as if a giant supernova exploded in my head and I realize what I'm doing. I'm kissing a boy that I met just a few days ago. In his room. On his bed.

I immediately break the kiss and stare at him wide-eyed.


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