In My Veins

Red

It was the first day of senior year and there was a new kid. 

There was never a new kid. 

The last time there had been a new kid had probably been in the second grade, when that girl with the lazy eye and the crooked teeth had transferred from... somewhere. Blaine didn't remember, in fact, he wasn't sure he had ever even known to begin with. He didn't really bother to find out the minor details about everyone at McKinley High. He didn't need to. He was the one that everyone wanted to know, he was the one everyone wanted to be, even if, at times, he didn't really want to be himself.

Nevertheless, there was a new kid now. Blaine saw him from down the hall. He appeared to be having a brawl with his new locker. It looked as if he was muttering obscenities under his breath as he twisted the dial anti-clockwise with a lot of force. He would be acquainted with it soon enough, Blaine thought, he would probably end up inside it before the day was out. 

He was interesting, this boy, in a strange way. He wasn't like any of the other boys who attended McKinley. At least, it didn't appear that way. Nobody dressed like that around here. Sure, some of the boys in Blaine's circle were quite well-off and wore designer clothing, but not like that. Blaine had designer sweaters, polo shirts, jeans, shoes, but he didn't own anything that even closely resembled what this boy was adorned in. His sequined vest, long-sleeved, tight-fitted white shirt and skinny, skinny jeans were only going to worsen matters for him. Soon enough the poor kid would be quaking in his patent leather, violet Doc Martins. Blaine almost felt sorry for him. Almost, being the keyword.

Blaine watched the boy, curiously. He had his locker opened now and was pulling books from his over-the-shoulder bag, before placing them inside the locker. It all seemed terribly awkward and like a huge struggle. That was going to go against him, too, Blaine conceded, frowning a little.

"What's up, Anderson?" Noah Puckerman said, appearing out of nowhere, knocking Blaine from his reverie. He raised a muscled arm, waiting for Blaine to greet him in their usual fashion. Blaine bumped his fist against Puck's and gave him a smile. 

"New kid," Blaine felt the need to point out, as he gestured towards the boy with the perfectly coiffed hair, as he studied what appeared to be his schedule with great interest.

Puck strained to see over the crowds, then grinned, his dark eyes flashing briefly, when he spotted the boy. 

"Sweet," Puck chuckled, drawing out the 'e' sound in the word 'sweet'. "Once the guys are here, we can give him a proper McKinley High welcome!"

Blaine forced a laugh and straightened up, drawing his red letterman jacket over his chest. He knew what a 'proper McKinley High welcome' entailed. He had participated in enough of them. He watched as Puck began gathering the rest of the football team, as they passed by in the hallway. It wasn't long before at least eight guys were standing by Blaine's locker talking loudly and laughing boisterously, some of them holding cups filled to the brim with slushie.

Blaine peered across the hallway at the new boy again, still studying his schedule, his thin eyebrows furrowed, eyes narrowed, bottom lip caught between his teeth. Blaine felt himself shiver as he thought about what was about to happen to the boy, a strange emptiness forming in the pit of his stomach. If he had been a good person, he would have told them not to do it. If he had been a good person, he wouldn't even be friends with them in the first place. If he had been a good person, he would have walked away and left them to their machiavellian devices.