Kurt wasn't exactly the type to leave his precious clothing strewn across his floor. But he could certainly understand the sentiment. He rifled through his closet, despairing of finding anything that would do for his date with Blaine.
Not a date, he reminded himself. There were seven of them going to the movie that night. (They normally weren't allowed out on school nights, but apparently the Dean had made a special dispensation for the premiere of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.) Still, Kurt and Blaine would be the only ones walking. Wes could only fit five in his rusty Chevrolet, and the two of them had been voted off in a complicated system involving time spent in the Warblers, average GPA, and amount of spare gas money. Not that Kurt was complaining. He was glad that Blaine had called him instead of breaking the news in person, because Kurt had been completely unable to keep the grin off his face as he assured Blaine that no, he wouldn't mine spending an hour or two in the company of the boy he had a hopeless crush on. Well, not in so many words.
Kurt wondered if he ought to just show up naked. But nudity wasn't really his color. Nor was it proper first date attire. Especially since this was in no way a date. Kurt could just see Blaine pretending not to notice, and then he would be forced to freeze his bits off until the police came by. No, that was a third date idea, at the very least. But, although the thoughts about Blaine and nudity were admittedly quite pleasant, they didn't help his current wardrobe dilemma.
He let out a breath of frustration, and then threw the scarf he was holding at the opposite wall. (It landed in a pile near his feet.) What was wrong with him? He was a wardrobe guru, everyone knew that! He had notebooks full of outfits for every possible occasion. He had been planning the clothes for his first date before he really knew what dating was! And yet, he would give practically anything for Mercedes to be standing there next to him, handing him a perfect outfit.
Well, no. He didn't want Mercedes to hand him the perfect outfit. He wanted her to assure him that everything was going to be okay, and that of course Blaine liked him, and that the… movie would be just as good as his daydreams. As much as Kurt loved Dalton Academy, he almost wished he could go back to New Directions where everything was, if not always pleasant, at least familiar.
But New Directions wasn't an option. Not with Karofsky prowling the halls, just looking for an opportunity to harass him. If Mercedes really was here, she'd tell him to stop being such a baby. She'd tell him that having to choose an outfit to wear while he went on a walk with the subject of his obsession was not the biggest problem in the world. And he knew that the Mercedes voice in his head was right.
He guiltily picked up his scarf. Just because he was having a fit of indecision didn't mean he was going to start treating his clothes with any less respect than they were due. Whatever his problems were, manhandling the Versace wasn't going to fix them.
Kurt gave his closet a long look. He'd been going about this from the wrong angle. He didn't need anything high fashion, no matter how he hated to admit it. They were going on a walk, not going to the mall. He had to look at it like he looked at Cheerio practice. Sometimes, sweats were a necessary evil.
Well, maybe not sweats. He shuddered a little. His jeans would do, though. And he swiped his favorite sweater off a folded pile by his bed. In doing so, he caught a glimpse of his alarm clock. Five minutes until he was supposed to meet Blaine. Just enough time.
Dressing down, to Kurt, was still more work than some people put in on prom night. Still, five minutes and one whirlwind of activity later, he was ready to go. He gave his hair one last swipe with a comb, took a deep breath, and opened his door.
A surprised Blaine was standing on the other side, his hand raised up to knock.