A/N: Based on picture to be found here: http:/yfrog [dot] com / kk7lhqj

He couldn't believe this. He couldn't believe this was happening. Bullying gone wrong… Or…more wrong. That ass had set him up. Or at least it was his fault.

Some jock that had been bullying him for the last few months, a guy named Karofsky, told him that if he got a fake ID and bought him and his friends some drinks, he'd be left off the hook for the next week.

But there was just enough liquor and he was just young enough to get in trouble.



And oh, there was the bus. The reform school he was being sent to didn't actually seem that horrible. You weren't allowed to wear your own clothes, though. And that was the part that Kurt was a little twitchy about. His clothes were him.


Kurt swallowed tightly, turning to face his father.

"I… I don't…"

"I'm sorry."

"I don't know what…I did or—"

"Dad…" He hugged his father tightly. "It's not you; it's not. I'll write. Or something. Okay? Take care of your heart. Take care of Carole and Finn and I'll be home before you know it."

"Love you, kid."

"You too, Dad."

And then he was sitting on the bus, in the back, facing the window. It wasn't surprising to him that there were a few other boys on the bus as well, four to be exact. The first one that caught Kurt's attention was very skinny and gangly. His hair was bright blonde and he was wearing a red hoodie and jeans. He was slumped over in his seat with headphones in.

The seat across the aisle from the blonde was occupied by a boy with brown hair. He looked shorter and thicker than the blonde, but not overweight. Muscular. He was tan and was leaning against the window, feet on the seat, his hood on his blue jacket up, and his eyes closed.

A few rows in front of them to the left side of the bus was a dark-skinned boy wearing a fitted cap and a grey jacket. He was staring at his lap.

Up even farther, a boy with dark blonde hair up in spikes and broad shoulders. He was moving his head to sounds coming through his iPod.

Kurt closed his eyes, trying not to sigh. He was nothing like these guys. He hadn't really done anything wrong. It was a stupid mistake. But there had been so many recent acts of teen drunkenness that it was starting to get out of hand and even though he swore the extreme amount of booze wasn't for him, he was caught and the judge said reform school for six months.

Slowly, the bus eased to a stop and the doors flung open. Kurt perked up. They couldn't possibly be there yet.

And then a boy started climbing up the steps and walking down the hall. He was wearing a leather jacket a white button-down plus blue jeans. His hair was kept under a blue fitted cap. He had scruff on his jaw.

Kurt swallowed slightly and looked away. The boy continued moving down the hall until he was one row in front of Kurt. He slid into the left side, looking at him.

"Alright, boys—last pick up of the day—off to Dalton," the bus driver called. "It's a long drive—I'd get to know one another."

Kurt hesitantly looked up. The boy was watching him.

"What'd you do?" he asked, his voice low and gruff.

"Possession of fake ID and buying liquor."

He smirked. "Cute." He turned to the rest of the bus. "What are you guys in for?"

The absurdly blonde boy spoke up. "Auto theft. First time. Getting caught, that is. Parents were pissed, man. It was so cool."

"My parents are just hard-asses who think this stupid school will shape me up," the brunette said. "I ditched class a bit." Kurt noticed him roll his eyes before his head turned to the boys up front. "What about you guys?"

The black boy shrugged. "Party gone wrong."

"Steroids. I stopped using, but I got caught giving them to a friend," grunted the one with spiky hair.

"By all intents and purposes, we should all be in juvie," the blonde said.

"The miracle of reform school, eh, boys?" The boy in the leather jacket turned back to Kurt. "You don't belong here."

"Tell me about it," he breathed.

"Why'd you buy the booze? Why not steal it?"

Kurt shifted. He didn't really want to tell this stranger his life story.

"Okay, sorry. Let's start differently." He stuck out a hand. "Hi. I'm Blaine. I'm 17 years old and I'm here because I kicked a kid's ass. Again. And my parents will look for any excuse to send me away. They tried sending me to private school once."

Kurt shook his hand tentatively. "Kurt."

"What are you in for, Kurt? Crazy folks?" the blonde called.

"Some kid was harassing me. He bullied me into buying booze for him and his friends. Apparently it was enough to get me here. The court decided—not my parents."

"Shit, man. Haven't heard a court case in a while. I heard it was only rich parents that sent their rebellious kids to reform school. Oh, by the way, I'm Jeff."

"Nick," the brunette offered.


"I'm Flint."

"Hi," Kurt breathed. "Yeah, well, apparently that's not the case. In Lima, if you screw up, you get juvie or reform school. Most of them choose juvie."

Blaine smirked. "You're not really a bad boy, are you?"

"Not unless you think shopping and being in glee club is worthy of the bad boy title."

Jeff laughed. "I like you, Kurt. I think I'll keep you around."

Kurt glanced at Blaine again, who was watching him appreciatively. "Yeah, I think I will too."

A/N: Thanks for reading! Please review!


E. M. Zeray

Mythoughtshavenooffswitch [dot] tumblr [dot] com.