Hello everyone! Thanks for the reviews and the lovely surprise of people signing up for story alerts. I had no idea such a thing existed, so I was really very pleasantly surprised to see my email box had gotten a little fat.
Here is chapter two! I'm going to try to stick as close as I can to whats been in the show while giving flashbacks and sort of missing scenes from the show. And just a warning, I'm sort of obsessed with Mike Chang and Matt Rutherford suddenly. They may be appearing throughout the story a wee bit more than they did on the show. (And honestly, what's not to love? They sing, they dance amazingly, and they grin like psycho idiots while they sing. Love them!)
-Chapter Two -
"You look like a miniature crack addict."
Noah Puckerman squinted his eyes up at the sneering jab that had come from the sort-of adult who was getting paid ten dollars an hour by the Temple to watch him for the summer. His nose wrinkled in clear distaste at the usually perfectly nice young woman and obnoxiously stated, "You look like my Great-Aunt Myrna. Old…single…owner of six different cats."
Andrea Sokoloff rolled her eyes at the boy. He was going to be one hell of a handful for his poor mother once the hormones started to kick in. He had the uncanny ability to pick up on one tiny insecurity that a person had buried deep within. He then threw discretion and human decency out of the window and proceeded to flash the world's largest lighthouse beam at said secret insecurity. She hated to think of the countless teenage girls he would inevitably crush in the next six years. She looked to the door and saw the first of what she was sure would be his hundreds of victims.
"BERRY! YOU CAVED!" Noah shouted gleefully, jumping up from his spot on the floor and approaching the small girl who was carrying a large white bakery box tied with what he now assumed was her signature pink ribbon. He held his hands out eagerly and grinned self-assuredly, "I knew that you noticed I was being like…super nice yesterday."
"You took apart my CD player and filled it with sand," Rachel reminded him with a surprising amount of patience as the boy in front of her continued to move his outstretched hands towards the box of cookies. She evaded his grasp and insisted very strongly, "This batch is for Ms. Sokoloff and the rest of the children at camp. You already ate four thousand calories worth of cookies."
"Are you calling me fat?" Noah asked dubiously. He pulled up his shirt and said, "You can see my ribs, woman! I'm not fat!"
"You are the largest idiot in the world," Rachel blushed as Noah continued to try and show off his admittedly scrawny upper body. She brushed past him, not realizing that she was fiddling with the lid to the box of baked sugary treats, wafting the smell towards the boy's nostrils, unconsciously torturing him.
"Now you're just being a royal bit-"
"NOAH PUCKERMAN! Time out!"
Noah rolled his eyes so hard he swore that he could feel them popping out of the sockets the tiniest bit as Suck-it-lots steered him towards the time-out area of the room. -Honestly, a time out? She should have just sucked it up and smacked his rear-end like his dad always used to when he was acting up. He sat sullenly in the corner as the other children of the lamest summer camp to have ever been invented happily devoured the treats Rachel had brought in. If he heard the word scrumptious and amazing one more time he was going to bum rush the whole lot of them and take the damned box that rightfully belonged to him.
But if he bum-rushed them and you know, accidentally wound up popping that Aaron Mackery kid's face with his elbow, it would be all sorts of interesting and satisfying. What was that half-Jew doing talking to Rachel so nicely for anyway? He was going to be thirteen in a week and Rachel was ten years old! Why on Earth was she blushing? The idiot. All those cookie fumes have gone to her head. Aaron's just being nice to her to get the cookies anyway…
Noah simmered some more as the idiot blonde golden boy Aaron moved onto fifteen and sixteen year old pastures, taking more than his fair share of cookies as he went. Bastard. Nearly half an hour had passed since he had been banished to the corner of the room. Surely that had been enough repentance.
"Not my name, Noah Puckerbutt," Sokoloff contended, shoving a cookie in her mouth. She watched as she could literally see the boy's mouth watering and bit back a chuckle. She looked at Rachel who was steadfastly trying to ignore both Noah and Jacob Ben-Israel, who was literally standing two inches apart from the poor girl. That prediction of Noah's about a restraining order was most certainly going to come true eventually if Rachel was as smart as she seemed.
"We're freaking Jewish, not god-damned Catholics!" Noah howled from the corner. "Let me out of time-out!"
"Let me out of time-out, what?" Rachel suddenly piped up, spinning on her heel, her long brown pigtails flying around her head, inadvertently smacking Jacob in the face. Not that he complained. Instead, he reached out and grabbed at the locks, softly petting them.
Noah's eyes widened as he watched the freakish Jew-fro caressing Rachel's hair. Either she hadn't noticed or she was the world's second biggest freak. (Second only to Jacob, of course). Noah scrunched his face up in angered annoyance and his left eyebrow raised at the girl, wordlessly trying to alert her to the fact that her hair was currently being molested. Rachel was oblivious however as she only continued to glare at him.
"Really, Noah. I've met your lovely mother already. I'm sure she taught you the proper manners and words that you could use to punctuate your request," Rachel lectured cheerfully.
"Hey, don't go talking to my ma, all right?" Noah ordered. If he knew his mother, she was already picking out china patterns and wedding venues. He was eleven and she had been searching for the perfect Jewish girl for ages. And since it was Lima, Ohio, Rachel Berry had been the very first one to show up.
"Don't go talking to my ma, What?" Rachel goaded. Her condescending look quickly flickered off of her face as sudden surprise took its place as she felt her pig tail be tugged slightly as she had taken one step closer to pick on Noah. Surprise gave way to annoyance and then utter mortification as she saw Jacob pressing his disgusting lips to the ends of her hair. All of her words failed her and only a high pitched squeal escaped her lips as Jacob obliviously continued to kiss her hair.
"Jacob!" Ms. Sokoloff scolded.
Noah wrinkled his nose with anger as he knew that Suck-it-lots preferred method of lecturing would do no good here. He was out of time-out now. There was no question as he launched himself towards the offensive little creep and with a surprisingly steely gaze trained on a now nervous Jacob he muttered, "Let go of Rachel's hair, Jew-fro."
Rachel whimpered slightly as Noah cracked his knuckles menacingly. She looked like she was about to cry as her hair was simply molested by that irritatingly creepy boy. Puck looked at her curiously and his eyes softened, the corner of his mouth turning up ever so slightly in a reassuring smirk before he turned back on the offensive young man, the gaze back to angry steel as he repeated, "Let go of Rachel's hair, Jew-fro. Please."
Rachel squeaked again as Jacob did as he was told. She jumped away from the two boys into Ms. Sokoloff's waiting arms babbling, "Cut it off, cut if off!"
"I can't cut your hair, Rachel. Your dads would kill me," Sokoloff sighed, patting the girl's back consolingly. "We could wash it."
Rachel wailed as she held her one offensive and offended pig tail away from her. Noah flinched at the very, very, very, very, very LOUD sound coming from the tiny elfin girl and he glared at Jacob, annoyed beyond the point of human annoyance limits. Suddenly he launched himself at the freakish kid, his fists pummeling Jacob's side.
Andrea Sokoloff groaned, rushing forward to pull the surprisingly strong eleven year old off of Jacob before the boy's parents had enough reason to sue. She kept mentally counting down the days when she could go back to campus, away from this hell of Jewish pre-teens.
"Rabbi! A little help here!"
Puck couldn't stop staring at the stupid lines on the world's lamest excuse for a sign-up sheet. Seriously, what was Schue thinking? If he was hoping to get any of the football players into the Glee club the sheet should have had "FREE BEER AND LAPDANCES FOR ALL WHO JOIN" written in neon letters. Hell, if he could just set up a beer tap and hallucinatory drugs next to the sign-up sheet he'd have a lot more takers. At the very least Marty the stoner and Will the recovering 15 year-old alcoholic would be waiting impatiently behind Puck at that very moment. Better yet, he should have a lifetime supply of Rachel Berry's World Famous sugar cookies sitting there. She could hand them out in a tiny apron and nothing else. -what the hell? He rolled his eyes and cursed his mother. Six years of the woman shoving good little Jewish girl Rachel down his throat had seriously brainwashed him. His mother could go to work for the CIA, he swore it.
Puck hadn't realized he had a pen gripped in his hand until he heard one of his teammates question him. He looked up to see an uncertain Mike Chang looking at him as if he had grown another Mohawk down his butt. He shifted slightly and shrugged looking at the list, knowing that his teammate probably expected him to do something stupid. He paused for a prolonged minute, thinking over his next action at a surprisingly fast pace.
What's it going to hurt? You're so badass that it wouldn't matter if you joined homo-explosion. Besides, think of the benefits…cougars…stage moms…Berry's cookies…Berry's skirts...Jesus, Ma, get outta my head and stop talking about Berry's skirts for Christ's Sakes! Just sign up, you can groove out on your guitar and just watch the panties start dropping all over this town. Besides, the pools are going to be closed up for like, eight months, might as freaking well…
"Uhm, Puck?" Mike questioned again, watching his friend extremely closely. The tall and lanky boy seemed to be fidgeting as he held his breath, watching as Puck clutched at the pen tightly while staring at the blank sign-up sheet. He felt he should say something but couldn't quite find the words.
Puck stepped forward very suddenly and started scrawling on the sheet. He stepped back with a slow smirk before handing the pen over to a confused and startled Mike. The token football Asian kid swallowed slightly as he stepped to where Puck had been staring at the sheet and looked up cautiously, not daring to believe that one of the coolest guys in the school had just signed up to sing and dance with the school's resident loser patrol. Because if Puck joined then he could definitely do it too-
Mike sighed and gripped the pen tightly, knowing that there was absolute zero chance of anything changing from the norm at McKinley. He scratched the pen against the paper half-heartedly and walked away, as another teammate was quick to walk up and see if the two boys had actually signed up.
"HA! Chang wrote Butt lunch! Fuckin' hilarious dude!"
The smell hit his nostrils even before she walked into the door. Noah looked up eagerly as Rachel Berry walked through the doors to the large multi-purpose room of the Temple's basement. His eyes widened gleefully as she carried an extra-large box tied up with a pink ribbon. He bit back his grin and tried to appear cool and aloof as she stood looking down at him curiously…almost shyly. Oh heck no, that wouldn't fly. He had known her a week and he hated when she got shy. She was a heck of a lot more interesting when she was flying about all over the place, chattering about her opinions as if they were law. Shy was boring. Noah hated boring.
"Pants?" Rachel wrinkled her nose in confusion. "How is that an insult?"
Noah scoffed and said, "I'm a first class ladies man, Berry-pants. Not everything I say is an insult!"
"Ninety-eight point seven percent of what you say is an insult. The remaining one point three percent is usually a harsh demand with no polite modifiers attached," Rachel shrugged as she spewed out seemingly scientific facts.
"You've been keeping track? I'm like…what's that word?" Noah wondered.
"Flattered?" Rachel offered helpfully.
"No. Creeped out." Noah smirked. He then extended his hands for the box that Rachel was still clinging to.
"Excuse me?" Rachel wondered, her temper flaring for a second at this boy's complete disregard for social convention and manners.
"Those are mine, right?" Noah gestured towards the large box of cookie goodness. "I earned it 'cause I totally made Jew-fro bleed."
"While I don't think violence is an answer to anything," Rachel began.
Noah laughed and said, "Berry-pants, Violence IS the answer. To boredom."
"Still, I was grateful that you got Jacob to stop molesting my hair," Rachel shrugged, her eyes rolling upwards as if she could see her hair coiled into a large, perfect ballerina's bun…safe and sound.
"Less yapping, more giving me my reward," Noah shrugged, letting out a contented and accomplished sigh when Rachel finally finished rolling her eyes and dropped the box into his lap.
"Please do your best not to choke on them," Rachel muttered as she walked away from the boy who had somehow managed to shove three cookies into his mouth at once. Her snide, slightly uncharacteristic comment surprised Noah and soon enough he was choking as he tried to his best to inhale the baked treats while suppressing impressed laughter.
"What in the hell's an invitational?"
Puck shrugged at Azimo's question. He didn't get the lingo, but he did get why they were there. He had been wondering about Finn's whole prostate sickness ridden mother, an actual moment of concern had taken over his body like a freaking weird ass possession. Carol was awesome. She always bought the pizza rolls during the summer. Pizza rolls were second only to cook—dammit, stop thinking about the cookies. He was getting seriously close to becoming a crack addict with the damned things.
Anyway, he had even bought a get well card and was searching around Wikipedia in the hopes that he could write a semi-appropriate message. He was surprised to learn that Finn had lied, but he should have known as he saw who the stupidly tall doofus was standing next to in the lobby of Carmel High.
He had been surprised to realize that his best friend of nearly six years had filled the shoes Rachel Berry had wanted him to fill at the beginning of the week. He tried to not feel the bitterness. He tried for just a split second to allow rational thought to form in his brain. His attempts were a complete and utter failure.
"Rutherford? Isn't there an outdoor sports store in this town?" he demanded, his voice low and nearly emotionless.
"We passed one at the bypass exit," Matt admitted, looking into the auditorium curiously, swallowing slightly at the sight of all the people who had come to see a choir sing and dance around. He furrowed his brow and wondered, "What are we doing?"
"Teaching Finn a lesson about what's important," Puck muttered.
Puck heard the bass line of the song and groaned inwardly. He knew that was one of Hudson's favorites. Freakish giant man-baby. Finn was permanently stuck in 1980's power ballads and arena rock. He had tried and failed six years in a row to introduce the dude to cool new music. He wouldn't be surprised if the jolly green giant had huge hidden tattoos of all the 80's bands he worshiped.
## Just a small town girl…
Living in a lonely world…
She Took a Midnight train going anywhere…##
Freakazoid. He opened the door to the balcony of the auditorium as quietly as possible, as if it mattered. The music and the singing was so loud you couldn't even hear yourself think. Which he usually enjoyed, but only if it was blaring curse words and wicked guitar riffs on his ipod. Not this…
##Just a city boy…
Born and raised in South Detroit…
He took a midnight train going anywhere…##
Definitely not her. Puck looked down on as Rachel and Finn danced together on stage. He couldn't help but stare at the rag-tag group of losers on the stage. Who were they kidding? They could sing one stupid inspirational power ballad and then everything would turn out okay? High school would stop being a big bad bowl of snot, hurt and pimples for them from that point on? Hell no. Life was a bitch and high school was the biggest, hugest, most aggravating bitch of the whole damned ride. You couldn't talk to who you wanted to, you couldn't do what you wanted to and you sure as hell couldn't dance and sing around as if nothing else mattered.
But there Finn was, dancing around with Rachel, singing their stupid sappy hearts out. And she was freaking beaming a 2500 watt light smile at the seven and a half foot town moron as if she actually was enjoying herself. She wasn't supposed to smile like that. Not during the school year anyway. He walked out of the auditorium, eager to get away from seeing her grinning like a fool at his best friend. He stopped outside of the door and felt that his feet were glued to the floor. He couldn't move as he listed to them sing that song. He didn't even hear Schue clapping as his nebulous thought process took over his brain.
"From the top!"
Schue's insanely happy orders broke Puck out of his reverie and he shuffled his feet, ready to walk away and leave stupid Finn and stupider Rachel to their song and dance when Rachel's clear, too loud voice called out.
"Just one second…a quick break is in order. And a celebration. I was going to christen these 'Hooray we did our own number cookies who needs stupid Mr. Schuester' but in light of recent events, I'm renaming them to 'Hooray we are totally going to take sectionals now cookies!' Grab some guys…they're my…"
"World famous sugar cookies." The rest of the club provided for her, although Puck could hear the rustling of the parchment paper signaling that the greedy bastards were chowing down on those cookies. He groaned and rolled his eyes. Damn Rachel Berry and damn her stupid Glee club and damn those stupid damned cookies.
*** Thanks for reading! Next up is Showmance and maybe a little of Acafellas!