The Gift, part 2
December 8, 2010
Dave got the idea when he overheard Puckerman and the wheelchair kid talking about it in the locker room, thinking that no one was around. All the Glee freaks were giving Kurt gifts for the holidays to say that they missed him and loved him. Well…Dave missed him, and loved…Well, he was going to figure something out.
He still hadn't been able to find out where Kurt had gone. Big shock that no one would tell him after he threatened the guy's life. Such a good one, Dave. Best ever. It was only made worse when Puckerman had called him out on it when he stupidly tried to recruit to fill Kurt's Glee spot after football practice. Azimio had shot him a look before he could wipe or hide his face. Did he know, or even suspect? Thankfully, in true fashion, Azimio had immediately changed the subject back to how loser like the damn Glee club was, and Dave was spared, and able to join in when the whole team pounced on Puck and locked him in the Port-A-John.
But now, Kurt had been gone several weeks, and Dave really had to face what had happened. What he'd done. There was no escape from the stares he got. The cold shoulders. Out right avoidance. His parents were becoming distant with him, especially his father. Dammit, he can't know! No one can know. Dave caught his father staring at him a lot now, contemplating. Watching. Analyzing. So he worked hard to keep up the mask.
But anytime his cronies or his ever-present teachers weren't around to distract him, he remembered. The last time he saw Kurt, who looked terrified, not triumphant, as Dave left the principal's office after having been suspended. The feel of Kurt's lips crushing into his own. His eyes, his damn beautiful eyes. Those eyes were in most of Dave's dreams now. Only now, those dreams were not sexy, or flirty or fun. They were accusatory and nightmarish.
The day he heard the boys talking in the locker room, he rushed home with a vengeance, knowing no one would be home yet. He ran to his room, locked the door and took a small box out from under his bed, near his pillow. Inside this locked box was the wedding topper he'd taken from Kurt on that horrible day. That day Kurt said he didn't want Dave near him…No, don't think about that. Man up! He chided himself and set about to work.
He had a few good hours before his parents would be home, so he snuck down to his Mother's craft room and yanked down from the top of the closet her wrapping tub. She'd seen Martha Stewart suggest keeping all your wrapping needs segregated into little tubs in one big tub and had run with it. The plan was forming in his mind already. It was crazy, but it just might work, if he could time it right. As he moved through the ribbons, he found one that startled him. It was the light blue of Kurt's eyes, staring wide back at him. He snatched it up and grabbed at the papers.
At the bottom of the stack, he found what he was subconsciously looking for. He'd remembered his Mother giving him his birthday gifts last year wrapped in a dark blue paper that she said reminded her of his handsome eyes. What better way to show how he really felt? Kurt's blue eyes in the ribbon, and Dave's in the wrapping. For a brief moment, he worried how creepy that might seem. But hell, what have I got to lose now? He already thinks I'm a serial killer. I've got to do this!
He grabbed up some plain white tissue and dug around in the closet till he found the gift boxes, broken down. It took forever, but he finally found one that was an appropriate size. Giggling, almost happily, for the first time in weeks, he thundered back up the stairs and re-locked himself in his room, scissors and tape in hand. He took meticulous care with the wrapping, he wanted it to be perfect, but just before he sealed it, an impulse struck him. He grabbed at the only thing he had laying around, loose leaf notebook paper, and trembling slightly took up a sharpie, wrote "I'm sorry" and laid it under the topper.
After he finished, he checked over his work for a half hour. It had to be perfect, this was his only chance. He finally decided to be satisfied when he heard his parents come in downstairs. They quietly took note of how much happier Dave seemed that evening, offering to help with the dishes, and to take out the trash, despite the snow starting sometime while he'd been wrapping. He was humming, which he never did and smiling and even went to bed early. He'd been heard pacing long into the night for weeks now. Laying there, alone, he welcomed the dreams, because it would mean he'd get to see Kurt again.
In school the next day, he haunted the corridor around the choir room, waiting for his chance. He'd seen Hudson bring in a big box and correctly guessed that lots of small ones would be going into it. His wouldn't even stick out, it was too perfect. A direct line to Kurt. God, this had to work. But every time he snuck close enough to the door, he'd hear them singing and laughing and have to stalk away and wait some more. He hated to admit it, but they sounded pretty good. Not as good as when Kurt had been there, and though he had never admitted this to anyone, Dave thought himself a decent singer. At least in the car with the radio, and in the shower at home. Or looking in the mirror, where he'd taped up Kurt's yearbook photo. Man, maybe I am too creepy for him! Dave smacked himself, NO don't think like that! Not now!
When he walked by next, just before the end of the period, he saw them getting out the hideous pink wrapping paper. Kurt would hate that, I bet, Dave smirked to himself. But, hell, that means they're gonna seal the box…NO! Without thinking, Dave darted across the hall and pulled the fire alarm. The sirens wailed and students and teachers alike poured out into the halls. The choir room door flew open with shrieking girls and slightly less panicked guys. Puckerman did take time to glare at Dave before grabbing Santana and moving with the flow towards the nearest door outside.
It's now or never, Dave thought. He tore into the choir room and stared down into the big box. A dozen small Christmas gifts stared up at him in their gay wrappings. Haha, gay wrappings. Not the time, Dave! He threw down his bag and gently removed the gift from its bubble wrap casing. He'd been super paranoid it would break. He ripped off the clear wrap, and taking a quick glance around to make sure the chaos outside hadn't slowed anyone to catch him, he dug down and buried his gift in the bottom. He snatched up his backpack and ran out to join the throngs of people, just as Principal Figgins came on the PA announcing that this was not a fire drill, and to get back to class and that whoever pulled the alarm would be caught and punished.
Dave had just gotten to the doors and seen the snow falling. He laughed out loud as people pushed by him to get out of the elements. He'd been the one pushing Kurt around, and now here the whole school didn't care to all but trample him getting inside. Maybe things were indeed changing. Watching the storm, he felt a strange warmth creeping up on him. He brushed some snow off his letterman jacket and said quietly to no one…"Please let him remember those blue colors, like a real gay guy. Please let him understand. Let him know I'm sorry…Let him know I don't hate him…I…miss him."
He wasn't exactly praying. He had long since given up believing in any of that. But something about the storm, the gifts, the damn Christmas season. He had hope. He knew Kurt would probably and justifiably freak when he got to that box. But maybe, he'd read the note and think just a tiny bit better about me, Dave thought. Sighing as he turned to go back in, he knew he had a scary, unknown road ahead of him. But this was a good first step to redemption.