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"I HAVE SOMETHING I want to say. I want to audition for the Wicked solo," Kurt announced, standing up from where he was sitting on the front row. Courtney grins, cheering for her friend. She was so happy he finally gathered the courage to speak his mind.
"Kurt, there's a high F in it," Mr Schue told him, sceptical that he would be able to sing a girl's song. Sexist, but that's nothing new.
"That's well within my range," the boy told him, his confidence unwavering. The room broke out in a series of "oohs" and "aahs"— they were excited to see where this would go. Out of the corner of her eye, Courtney saw Rachel's displeased face. She just knew the brunette would say something completely insensitive to bully Kurt into not auditioning. She was wrong. It wasn't Rachel who spoke up. It was Mr Schue.
"Well I think Rachel's going to be fine for the-"
"That's not a very nice thing to say, Mr Schue. I have had it up to here with your blatant favouritism towards Rachel. Sure, she is an amazing singer, but that doesn't validate you putting the rest of us down and ignoring our talent for it," Courtney cut in. She didn't necessarily want to start something right now, but she's been bottling this up for a long time. She couldn't stop herself. She just exploded.
"My mom is still the co-head of this team, you know? Once I talk to her about this, she's going straight to Principal Figgins about your inappropriate behaviour. You wouldn't want that to happen, would you? Especially with a baby on the way. So I suggest that you let Kurt audition, or you'll be facing a lawsuit," the blonde sneered at him, standing up and storming out of the room.
Silence.
Nobody expected the sweet and innocent Courtney Sylvester to ever raise her voice on anyone. Let alone a teacher. In the back row, Santana and Quinn exchanged proud looks. Look at our baby sister go.
♪♪♪
Finding Courtney in an empty classroom surrounded by plates of baked goods, Kurt approaches her. Setting his bag down, he takes a seat next to the blonde.
"Hey," he greets her.
"Oh! You scared me. Hey, Kurt," the girl replied, jumping as she heard his voice. She was fully focused on the array of treats she'd baked earlier this morning— trying to find which one would sell the best amongst the high schoolers. She knew she could just ask her mother for some cash to pay for the bus, but she wanted to do this on her own.
"What are you doing here, Kurt? I thought you had class?" Courtney asked, turning to the boy beside her.
"I did, but it's just English. Mrs Porter loves me. She let me leave early," he responded, fiddling with his thumbs.
"I love Mrs Porter! She's such a sweet old lady. She gave me a plate of her homemade snickerdoodles last year. It was so delicious," the blonde exclaimed. To this day, Courtney still dreamed of the taste of those cookies from last year. They were that good.
