I walked with Sebastian, trying to hide my huge grin. Sebastian held his head high and took long strides. All the other students said hi to him. Sebastian smiled and waved, like he was some sort of royalty. With how unbelievably attractive he was, I thought he might actually be. But I have to remember not to get my hopes up. I had to remember that Sebastian might not be gay. That he's maybe only being nice to me because I'm new. I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't even realize we had stopped walking. Sebastian turned to face me.
"I know you probably have a lot of questions. I'll answer them all later. For now all you need to know is where your classes are. We have science and math together, so just follow me."
I was still amazed at how confident he was. And how he knew so much about me. I hadn't shown him my schedule, but somehow he knew it. Weird.
A few minutes later we reached the science room. Sebastian led me to an empty seat next to his. The teacher, Mrs. Frymoyer, was already writing something about compound solutions on the board. I had no clue what anything she was writing meant. I looked across the room. Everyone else was writing. Sebastian leaned over.
"They're taking notes. Here."
He passed me a piece of paper full of writing. God, even his handwriting is beautiful.
"We'll study tonight. For now just pretend you're paying attention." He whispered.
I was so confused. The class seemed to take forever, but I sneaked glances at Sebastian to pass the time. He had gorgeous brown hair, longer in the front, but not with too much gel in it. And his eyes seemed to be a million different colors, sparkling blue, green, and brown. Before I realized it he had caught me staring. Sebastian flashed me a small smile. I quickly looked away, embarrassed. A few minutes later the bell finally rang. Sebastian handed me my messenger bag.
"Alright Kurt. You have Latin next. Trent is going to take you there," he said, motioning to a short boy who stood next to him.
"Hi Sebastian. Hi Kurt, nice to meet you." The boy, Trent, said, sticking out his hand for me to shake.
I hesitated. Shaking hands at Mickinley would be social suicide. But here nobody seemed to mind. So I shook it, perhaps a little too hard.
"Well you guys better get going. Bye, Kurt." Sebastian said, looking me directly in the eye. And with that he turned and strode out of the classroom.
Trent and I walked in silence. Well, I walked in silence, but Trent babbled the whole way. He was talking about some club, something about warblers? I had heard that word before, this morning. That strange text said something about a "warbler welcoming" whatever that was supposed to mean. Soon Trent and I had reached the Latin room. I found an empty seat near the back. It was weird, I hardly knew Sebastian, but somehow I found myself missing him. He was so... confident. So sure of himself. Without I felt so much more vulnerable.
Latin was uneventful. I stared out the window and doodled in my notebook most of the time. The loud bell snapped me back to reality. I gathered my books and walked out the door, but I wasn't sure where to go next. I think my next class is art. Suddenly tall blond with long-ish hair stopped me.
"Kurt, right?" He asked.
"Yeah, um, yes. Kurt Hummel." I stammer. God, I probably looked like such a fool.
"Alright, well, I'm Jeff. Sebastian told me I was supposed to take you to our art class."
Of course Sebastian had set him up. I blushed, thankful for the stranger's help. Jeff led me down the hall, past several doors until we entered what seemed to be a foyer, with a large staircase and a huge dome overhead. We walked up the stairs.
"So, did you join The Warblers yet? Sebastian said you were going to." Jeff asked.
"Oh, um, no I haven't joined yet." I replied, trying to hide the fact that I still didn't know what the world these mysterious warblers are. What if they were a cult? Did Sebastian want me to join a cult? Soon I was so lost in my thoughts that I hadn't noticed Jeff was talking again.
"... meetings are every day during sixth period. And on Tuesdays we stay after school and practice until 5. Oh, we're here."
I turned into the classroom. It was big and smelled like clay. There were a few students already there that I recognized from my earlier classes. The teacher stopped me. She seemed to be about 70 and had huge glasses she peered over.
"Hello young man! Take an easel and a canvas from the shelf over there. You can sit next to Jeff." She spoke loudly and spit as she talked. I did as instructed.
