Struck By Love

The ASSembly is today. I'm so nervous that I started biting my nails a bit, but I stop. My nails are not to blame. The ASSembly as always takes place in the auditorium. As a student council member, I'm sitting onstage during the ASSembly and right now I'm staring up at the ceiling with my eyes the size of tennis balls. Seriously, it's a lot more interesting than whatever coach Colin wants to say right now.

"Tomorrow night at our homecoming game, let's show Lincoln High what Clover is all about!" He says, rising a fist high in the air. "Let's pull a John Wilkes Booth on Lincoln High!"

The eruption that follows is insanely loud. Then Couch Colin runs through the auditorium, giving high fives to anyone around and finally leaves.

Remy is next at the podium and to my surprise, she got a round of applause. Maybe my announcement won't be that bad after all. As soon as she starts talking though, I spot someone in the crowd that I almost forgot about.

Blaine is sitting there, looking straight at me, not moving. He's right next to Malerie, who has her camcorder safe in her hands, recording everything. Suddenly I can't take my eyes off of him because it brings out all of my previous doubts and feelings. Actually, he reminds me of the whole yesterday and what happened.

His room, the piano, his beautiful voice, brown loving eyes, the bed, our kiss. I'm still not sure if I'm gay or not, and I'm not even sure what I want to be. But I'll admit, the whole sex thing is one area of my life I haven't fully investigated... Do I want to investigate it with Blaine though?

I don't care who you are – gay, straight, bisexual, black, white, purple, cat, dog or pigeon. I'd just like to finally know who exactly I am. I don't like being confused like this, but I don't like labels either. I just don't know and I really don't like not knowing.

Suddenly I realize that Frodo (that's Remy because she's really short) is finally over and so I stand up and walk to the mic.

"Hello, future farmers and inmates." I say, "I'm Carson Phillips, from the Clover High Chronicle, and I'm here with some very exciting news! This year for the first time ever, Clover High will release its first literary magazine!" I clap, but I'm alone.

Well, at least I got their attention. Perfect. "Now, I know most of you can't read, let alone write." I continue. "But for all the secret writers out there, please submit any original work into the box outside the journalism classroom and it will be published." It doesn't look like they understand, so I add, "Poems, essays, short stories… hit lists, anything!"

The whole auditorium is still quiet. "Thank you. God bless."

I go back to my chair on the podium and then the principal goes and says some shit into the mic, I don't really care. Even though I don't want to, but my eyes unintentionally wander to where Blaine with Malerie are sitting. Again.

He's looking down this time – it looks like he's playing with something in his hands, but I don't think that that's important. I wish I could sit there with him and look at his face and say that I actually liked that kiss. Our kiss. Maybe... maybe I do want to investigate with Blaine a little and be in a relationship. I still can't be sure though, the only thing I can think about now without completely confusing myself is getting into Northwestern and that's why I'm doing all of this.

I walk out of the auditorium as soon as the assembly ends. I can't face Kurt again, it would be really awkward. And he doesn't even like me, so with that kiss I might have completely ruined my first friendship in Clover before it even fully started. He said that he doesn't hate me though, so maybe it's not over yet and maybe we can be friends again. Some day.

But for today, I don't want to talk to him. Well, I want to, but I don't think that he wants to talk to me.

After school, I see the box that Kurt was talking about earlier. And it looks exactly how I thought it would. It doesn't say 'Literary magazine' anymore, someone got creative and changed it to 'Shiterary magazine'. I carefully open it and look inside and it's full of used tissues, toilet paper, candy wrappers and a used gum. Even a half-eaten hamburger is in there! I can already see Kurt's disappointed face.

Yesterday when Kurt left, I wrote him a letter. I don't have his number and even if I had, it wouldn't be that personal to just text him. I want him to know that I'm serious. I just want him to read it and understand even when it's mostly just nonsense. The letter is already closed and tied with a tiny red bow tie so I won't open it before he does.

Firstly, I wanted to just put it into that box and wait until he finds it, but now I think that it's much better idea to put the letter into his locker. At least I know where that is.

I go back into the school and find the hallway where Kurt's locker is. I look around, but I don't see anybody, it's after school after all and Kurt's probably in the journalism classroom I guess. I walk closer to his locker and put the letter out of my bag.

I look at it for the last time, kiss it on the bow tie and finally put it inside.

What the hell was I thinking?! I shouldn't have spoken on the assembly! I was so foolish to think that I had actually inspired people! When I went to collect the submission box from outside and brought it into the journalism classroom where Malerie was already waiting, I thought that the box was full of stories and articles and stuff, but of course not!

It was just a kilogram of toilet paper, tissues, candy wrappers, even half-eaten hamburger and other things that I still don't recognize and something tells me that I don't even want to. They used it as a hazardous-waste basket. It didn't even say Literary magazine anymore, as Malerie pointed out, it was now a Shiterary magazine! Some asshole got apparently creative with a Sharpie. I'm so disappointed. At least Blaine could have written something!

But I'm not going to give up. Malerie said that she caught Coach Colin Walker and Claire Mathews bonking each other in the boys' locker room and actually showed me a footage of what she had seen. When I said that she films everything, I meant it.

I'm already blackmailing Nicholas and Scott and this is just an idea, but if I get too desperate, I can start blackmailing Claire and Coach too. In fact, I could easily get dirt on a lot of students and blackmail all of them... It would be called... the "Operation Clovergate". Now that would be perfect.

After I finish painting all the pieces for our float for tomorrow's Homecoming with Malerie, I leave the journalism classroom and go to my locker to get a few stuff. It's been a long day and I'm happy that I can finally go home. Even when all I'm gonna find there is just my mom, sleeping on the couch in a mess of food and alcohol and her pills, all mixed together on the table and floor.

The school is already empty and silent and the trenches don't even smell that bad like they always do (I say 'trenches' because if the smell in the hallways after lunch on burrito day isn't gas warfare, I don't know what is).

I go to my locker and open it.

There's a small letter waiting inside, carefully wrapped in blue paper with a tiny bow tie on top. I look at it a little confused, but when I open it, I immediately recognize Blaine's handwriting. I sigh and roll my eyes. Maybe I should have talked to him today.

The letter says:

Dear Kurt,

I know that I've said this many times before, but I'm deeply sorry for what happened in my room. You were right, I have a crush on you, but I won't apologize for that because that's not something that I can control. I liked you the first moment that I saw you in the hallway, yelling at everybody that there's no 'H' in suck. I joined your Writers' club even when I'm horrible in writing, just to be closer to you and when you agreed to go to my house, my affection for you took over.

I'm sorry for making you feel forced and uncomfortable. I know you said that you don't hate me, but I feel guilty and I just want you to know that if it's possible, I want to make things right again.

If you want to be friends even after what I did to you, please meet me tonight in the park behind my house at 10pm. If you won't come, I won't bother you again and leave the Writers' club, if you want me to.

With love, Blaine.