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“Nice to see you today, Kurt,” says Mrs. Reynolds, the science teacher. “Hello,” I respond, taking the only vacant seat, in the back. I’m three class periods late to school, but at least I showed up today.

Science seems to drone on and on forever, until the bell rings, signaling our exit from class. I’m the last one out, as usual, I’m tired, and I don’t want to go to the next class.

Just as I’m pushing the door open, to leave, I hear Reynolds calling me, “Kurt, come back here a second.” I let go of the warm silver doorknob, and turn around. Is she, like all my other teachers, give me detention for being tardy, then give me extra detention because I don’t go? Probably.

“Yeah?”, I say, looking at her. “Come here,” she says, quietly. This must be big, and it doesn’t sound like I’m getting detention, because usually when I’m getting detention, they just yell it at me right about now.

I walk over to her. She looks concerned. “Kurt---is---is everything---alright at home?”, she asks. Hmm…let me think about that one….my parents are divorced, I live in a trailer in a logging community with my Dad, I don’t have any friends--- “Kurt?”, she repeats, breaking my train of thought. I quickly answer, I don’t want her to catch on. The last thing I want is to wind up in foster care or something. “Yeah, everything’s fine,” I say, trying not to fidget too much.

Reynolds’s pale hand steadies herself as she stands up. She walks closer to me, strokes my cheek, and stares at me. Okay, this is seriously starting to get weird. I hope I’m not being watched. My life is bad enough. She takes me into her arms, squeezes me in a hug, and pats my shoulder. “You just let me know if anything is going on,” she says, back away. I nod, and leave a little bit quicker than I intended.

A sickening snap, a stinging pain on the back of my hand. Shit. I just broke a string on my guitar. Just wonderful. Since I now have nothing to do, I think I’ll go out for a while.

I exit the trailer, the cool Washington state air swirling around my head, blowing my hair back in my face, slowly chapping my lips. I walk down the street, scuffing up my 3-year-old Chucks, kicking at pine-needles.

I find myself down at the local Shell gas station. I walk over and take a seat on the curb, relaxing, wishing I had just a little money for some cigs and a new guitar string. “Hey!”, comes a familiar voice. Krist, my only friend. “Hey,” I say, blankly, resting my head on the filthy brick of the convenient store. Krist smiles at me, he must be in a decent mood. “What brings you here?”, he asks, tossing me his friend’s cigarettes, he doesn’t smoke. “Thanks,” I respond, pulling out my lighter.

I decide to answer his question. “Nothing, guitar string broke, got bored,” I say, still relaxed against the building, “And yourself?” He grins. I grin back. “Remember that girl I met here last night?”, he asks. I cringe, I do remember. She was quite the annoyance. “Kurt, she ain’t so bad! She’s really hot too,” he says, noticing my cringe. “Annoying is an understatement,” I say, exhaling a cloud of smoke. Krist rolls his eyes. “Well then don’t come up and ruin my chances with her,” he says, “She’s meeting me here in---he glances at his watch---15 minutes.” I nod. Of course I’m not going over there.

I watch as she pulls up around 5 minutes early. She swings herself out of her parents car, I can tell it’s not hers, because she doesn’t have that kind of money…or maybe it’s just people like me that don’t have that kind of money. She’s probably rich, it figures.

“Hey!”, she says to Krist, all smiling. I roll my eyes, this is sickening…but for some reason, I can’t seem to keep my eyes off the situation. “I hope ya don’t mind,” she says, “I brought a friend.”

I expect another female, but what exit’s the car is a male…and I’ll have you know, he’s hot. He’s got some very circular sunglasses on, long dark hair (she hangs out with people like that?), a band shirt on, ripped jeans, Chucks. He’s adorable. I may not be gay, but this has me convinced I’m at least bisexual…right?

I’m half-trying to make eye contact, but I can’t tell, his sunglasses are still on. I’m staring right at him, watching his graceful moves. He’s just standing there, smoking a cigarette, and chatting with Krist’s friends, whilst Krist hits on that girl. Aww, he’s so cute.

HE’S LOOKING AT ME. I can’t believe it. I know he’s looking at me now, his whole body is facing me. Oh shit. Oh shit. I bet I look like a bum. I sit up, look away from him, and try to flatten my insane hair a little bit. My hair is normally the least of my worries, but right now, he’s looking…no wait, he’s coming over to me.



“Dave Grohl.”

“K-Kurt Cobain.”

“Mind if I sit down?”

“Sure…go ahead.”

WHY do I have to be so nervous? Why is he even talking to me? Nobody wants to talk to the “gay blonde kid” except Krist, who doesn’t go to our school…but I don’t think he cares if I’m crowned “gay blonde kid” anyway.

“So…your name is Kurt?” Poor thing. He’s trying to make conversation because I’m too damned nervous to talk.

“Yeah it’s Kurt,” I say, messing with a string on my jeans. He’s fucking beautiful.

“Yeah…so why are you here?”, he asks. I tell him exactly what I told Krist earlier, without asking why he’s here. I actually look right at him, and he’s smiling. His smile is beautiful, just like the rest of him.

I find it cute that our shoes match, even though mine are a lot more torn up.

“You play guitar? Cool! Me too. I’m better at drums though,” he says, chuckling a little. Awww. “Yeah,” I say, looking away, down at his hands, which are laced together, and resting on his knees.

My turn to make conversation. “ ‘Whatsername’ seems to like Krist a lot,” I comment, staring back at my chucks. He laughs. I blush, hoping my hair hid it. “Yeah she does. Her name is Sandra,” Dave says. I nod. We sit there for a few more minutes before Dave speaks again. “Wanna go get something to eat?”, he asks. “Yeah, okay,” I respond.

We’re about halfway to Burger King. We would have been there sooner, if he wouldn’t have had to argue with Sandra so much to get to use her car. I’ve never been in such a nice car. It’s clean, smells nice, and the seats are plush and soft. My car, when it runs that is, has hard seats, stinks of exhaust, and is sort of clean if you don’t count the countless stains on the floor.

“Wanna know something?”, he asks, changing the radio station. “Sure,” I say, staring out the window. He chuckles. “Your cute,” he says. That I did not expect.

“T-thanks,” I say, and begin to play with the strings on my jeans again. Apparently, he notices I’m nervous, because he says, “You don’t have to be so nervous, you know. I’m not going to hurt ya.” I giggle. I feel a little bit better now, even though I wasn’t worried about him hurting me….that much.

Burger King smells good when we go inside. My stomach hurts, I’m starving. If you don’t pay attention to the brats running around in circles, and people getting the wrong orders, standing there with Dave is close to heaven.

“So then I told her to go talk to him,” Dave says. He’s been explaining how Sandra called him on a pay phone when she saw Krist. His voice is so cute. “Then, she said she was scared--- are you interested?”, he says, his cute laugh coming back. If it wasn’t Dave, I’d tell the truth, which is, I could honestly care less, but it is Dave, so I say, “Sort of.” He laughs again.

On the way out, we throw away our garbage, and I still have a handful of fries. Sandra told Dave to have her car back by 6:30, and it’s 6:10. I stuff a fry in my mouth, and Dave smiles. “You might not want to eat in Sandy’s car, she got pissed when I tried to drink water in her car,” Dave laughs. I laugh a little. “Well, I guess I won’t then,” I say, still smiling.

Dave is sitting there, waiting patiently while I eat my fries. I feel bad for making him wait, and I’m pushing 6:20, so I decide to throw them out so he doesn’t get yelled at when we go back to Shell. I walk over to an outside trash can, and start to put the fries in it, when I feel Dave pull my hand back. “Don’t starve yourself,” he says. So he’s noticed I’m stick thin, too. I smile at him. “I don’t want you to be late,” I say, and start to put them in the trash again. “Fine, if you won’t feed yourself, I will!”, he says, stealing a fry and putting it in my mouth as I squeal and giggle. We do this until I’ve had the rest of the fries.

We drive off, leaving one, lone fry laying on the cement sidewalk.

“WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN WITH MY CAR?”, Sandra yells at Dave, as we pull up. Jeez, calm down, we are only 5 minutes late! “I SAID---”, Sandra starts again, but Dave cuts her off. “I took Kurt to Burger King, jeez…and before you start again, we didn’t eat in your car, we barely breathed in it!”, Dave says, and I laugh. “What’s he laughing for then?”, she angrily demands. Dave rolls his eyes. “He’s just being cute lil Kurt,” he says. I’m blushing like hell. I can tell Krist is nervous, because Dave and I are sort of screwing up his chances with Sandra.

Dave and I start talking again, this time about music. “So…you said you play guitar. Are you in a band?”, he asks. “Sort of. We are having problems finding a drummer, Krist plays bass,” I explain. He smiles. “If he’s still talking to us after this, maybe I could fill in the spot?”, Dave says, grinning at me. I grin back at him. “Well I hope he keeps talking to us,” I comment. He giggles. Dave Grohl is so cute.

After some more time at the gas station, Sandra and Krist decide to leave together in Krist’s car. Sandra angrily offers Dave a ride home, but not me. I knew she didn’t like me, but it evens out as I don’t necessarily enjoy her company either. Dave declines, and she goes back to her car saying something like, “Well if you can’t get a ride home, don’t blame me, and don’t call me to come and get you!” Dave just rolls his eyes, laughs and turns back to me.

“Where ya live?”, he asks. He’s adorable. I love his voice, his smile, his hair, his style…I think I’m falling in love. I hope he feels the same way…he did tell me I’m cute, which I’m not. I’m just…here. I realize I haven’t answered his question. “Oh yeah, I live in---”, I’m suddenly embarrassed to tell him I live in a trailer park. “Yeah?”, he says, trying to get me to keep going. My need to see him again overpowers my embarrassment, so I tell him. “The trailer park, you know, the one down the street,” I choke out. He nods. “Yeah I’ve been in there a couple times. Don’t know anyone in there…besides you,” he says, winking. Here we go again, I’m blushing. If it’s not obvious that I like him by now, it’s amazing.

We decide to leave Shell, and go to his house. He says it’s quite the walk, but I’m up for it, and besides, he said he needs the exercise. I giggled at that, because he’s pretty fit actually.

“My feet are hurting.”

“You’re the one who said it was a long walk.”

Dave laughs. “Yeah I know.”

“Well…do you want to sit down?” I gesture towards the park bench in front of his apartment building.


I giggle, the poor baby.

I realize Dave has quite the nice ass when he sits down. I smile, and feel lucky to plant mine right next to his. We start talking again once we are both settled on the bench.

“Your cute, Mr.Cobain.” That’s the second time he’s said that. I still blush. But I come up with a response.

“Your cute, yourself, Mr. Grohl.”

“Am I now?” He laughs. How a person of such hotness can remain so bold and unembarrassed, I will never know.

Slight embarrassment. “I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it!”

Another giggle from Dave. “I find you cuter.”

“I find you cuter.”

“I find you cuter.”

“Repetitive, Dave.”

“Repetitive, Kurt.”

We both laugh at our cheesy conversation. We both stop giggling around the same time, and he turns to look at me. I look back at him. Oh. My. God. Is he going to kiss me? I’m acting like such a girl right now. We move really close together, my lips are inches from his. I’ve never kissed a boy before. I can feel his breath on my lips. I can’t believe my first kiss going to be on a park bench, on a busy street, with a man this fucking hot. He’s so close…he just moved closer…and just as we are about to close the centimeter gap, a car horn sounds loudly enough to scare the shit out of us both, and we jump, breaking the moment. Damn you, car!

Dave takes my hand, and starts running towards his apartment building, which turns out to be the ‘C’ building. I am laughing the whole time, but once we get there, I’m so out of breath. I make him stop for a second, so I can catch my breath. I inhale several times, still holding Dave’s soft hand.

We are finally going up the steps to Dave’s parents apartment. “It’s this one,” he says, gesturing towards ‘C 10’. I nod. I’m still half-panting. He pounds on the door, loudly. We wait for about 5 minutes before he sighs and says, “Damn! I guess they aren’t home again.” I nod. I know what he means, I had to sleep in the front yard once, and it rained on me. I had a cold for weeks.

He pulls a key from his pocket and shoves it in the lock. It doesn’t fit. “Oh yeah, I forgot they took my key away last month,” he says, blushing, and trying to contain his anger. I smile. His blush is cute too.

Dave walks over to the window, noticing it’s open halfway. “I’ll get us in, don’t worry,” he responds, sticking his hand under the window sill, reaching to pop the screen out. Pulling on the small silver handles in the corners of the screen, I hear two small clicks, and the screen falls onto a nearby table, then hits the soft carpet.

“There. I’ll go in first, then help you,” Dave says. I laugh. Who can’t laugh at this situation. I nod, though, and go along with the plan.

Dave slides in the window like he’s done it 500 times, which he probably has. “Okay, one sec,” he says, opening the window farther. Once that’s a success, he says, “C’mon.” I tuck my body under the window sill, and being as skinny as I am, this came easy.

“I’m gonna put the screen back, feel free to go get something,” he says, nodding his head at the kitchen. I just opt for standing there and stare at his ass, whilst he places the screen back and closes the window.

Dave and I have been watching cheesy infomercials (note: hahahaa! SEJ knows why I did this! I love ya! Lol.) for a couple hours. It’s dark outside, and I’m going to leave now. “I’m sorry. I gotta go,” I say, standing up. “Oh okay,” Dave says, switching the TV off, and standing up. He picks a coat up off the floor. “Here, take this. It’s probably cold outside,” Dave says, handing me the coat, our hands brush together, and we make eye contact. “Am I g-gonna see you again?”, I ask, nervous that I might not see him again. “Sure,” he says, winking, and making me giggle.

The moment is back. Our lips are close again. I silently pray that nothing is going to wreck this. I was so close earlier. Well, before that can happen, here goes nothing. I push my lips closer to Dave’s, and finally on his. We stay like that for a few minutes, before he moves his lips a little, and breaks us apart. “Now I know I’ll see you again,” he says, smiling. I blush…and wonder if I should have done that. He kisses my cheek. “I’ll see you later, Truk,” he says, using my name backwards. I laugh, and walk out of his room.


Okay…first of all, no one ever does this pairing, so I couldn’t resist. Anyway…about the “Truk” thing, yeah, that’s how you spell Kurt backwards, and Sej knows why I did that!! Haha! *hugs* *hands everyone a cookie* Thanks for reading!!


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