"Kicker for the football team?" Kurt asks skeptically, bringing his hand behind his neck to rub as he considers the thought. Truth be told, he knows that he's not a terribly bad athlete. He knows that the coordination skills he's learned as a result of all that choreography and the endurance he's accumulated through practice would make him fairly decent at the finer points in football, ones that don't require heavy tackling. But the enjoyment, it's just not really there. "I don't know. It would feel strange not playing alongside Finn and also not having my dad around to watch. I doubt that you guys will find yourselves short on players, anyway."

Leaning back, he considers what he thinks is the more contentious issue. Because he gets it. He gets what Karofsky's saying, completely, and to a large degree, Kurt feels all of that himself. A desire to know what happens back home, and to see, if nothing else, how different of a person he's become compared to that. Is he the same young boy who's slated to head to New York? Honestly, Kurt isn't sure. He doesn't feel like it, at any rate.

"The longer we go separate from what happens at home, the further the gap is, I guess," Kurt says, lips drawn thin. "I don't think I've ever worried about it half as much until... until someone came from a time when the relationship's entirely changed. With everything I've been told, I don't really feel like the same guy. I keep on wondering if whatever I'm up to back home has made me the better person."