He stands there, in all of his glory, and she wants nothing more than to hug him.
It's a weird feeling, actually caring about the badboy of school. Now, I know this sounds like one of your typical girl falls for badboy and changes him stories and I guess in a way, it kind of is, but it's not as simple as that. More like badboy falls for badboy's best friend's girlfriend and knocks said girl up and starts dating her and messes her up so much she becomes bad girl. But yes, to put it simply, this is one of your typical girl falls for badboy and changes him stories.
Quinn wakes up that morning with a shitty headache and shitty friends and shitty parents and she knows that it's going to be yet another shitty day. She misses the bus for school, for a start, which means she has to walk in the pouring rain at eight fifty in the morning with no hope of arriving at time, and don't even get her started on Rachel Berry and her annoying... well, everything, really. And then there's Finn and his clingy behaviour and Puck, who's been giving her that look all through History.
That look that says I'm sorry and I love you and I want to be with you. The one that's been the cause of her recent headaches and late nights, because she wants to be allowed to give him that look back. But she can't, right? Just because biologically, she's having Puck's kid, doesn't mean she won't raise it as Finn's. And then, when she's wondering what a little Puck is going to look like — just because she's raising it as Finn's doesn't mean she can't imagine, right? — and what he was like when he was a kid.
Well, she knew him when they were kids. Puck had been the boy next door for her (literally — from the ages of four to nine, he was her next-door-neighbour) and she'd sort of just grown up around him. But she still wondered about what she hadn't seen. He was in her class at school and sometimes they would play with the other kids on the block together and when they were in the third grade he'd kissed her and said she was the prettiest girl at school, even prettier than Santana or Brittany, but that's all she knows about his childhood. She had seen it in flashes and that was all.
She imagines him before they met. He was only three, sure, but she imagines him more clearly than ever. She can see him giggling and laughing and playing with his parents and she can see him happy. The kind of happy that she'd only ever seen him be when they were together on that night and when she smiled at him. He was that happy the day they met, she remembers.
She was wearing her favourite pink dress, the one with the sparkles on it, and he was wearing a shirt with a big word on it. He said he was Noah but most people called him Puck 'cause it made him sound funny and one time he heard a story about this man called Noah who had lots of animals on this ark and he asked his mom what an ark was later that night and she had thought he meant an arc so she said it was like a curvy thing and the next day he drew a man beside a curvy thing with animals and everyone laughed so from that day forward, he was Puck. She learned that day that he liked to tell stories.
Quinn wonders if he had been that kid even when he wasn't that kid. When he was eight and he smiled a little less than when they were five-years-old and playing in the sandpit together, was he still that kid? She still likes to picture him as a little boy with rosy red cheeks and blonde curls who wears dungarees and can't sleep without his toy monkey.
"Quinn!" Mr. Davies shouts, jerking Quinn back into action. She flushes scarlet and looks down. "If you would pay attention in my class instead of daydreaming like a child, I'd much appreciate that! Stop slacking or I'll see you next year."
"Sorry, sir."
And it's not like it's even that bad. All that happened was she got told off for daydreaming in class, which was a perfectly good reason to get told off. But does Puck see it that way? No, of course not, because he's Puck and he has to overcomplicate everything. He stands up, slams his phone down on the desk, making his textbook shut (not that he was actually reading it, but still) and crosses his arms over his chest.
"Puck," Quinn says before he makes a fool out of himself. "Don't do this."
"No. No, that was a bunch of bullshit! She's the smartest kid in here!" he yells at the teacher.
"Noah," Quinn says, trying to attract his attention, but he waves it off.
"And you can threaten her all you want with next year and whatever bullshit punishment you're going to give her for not giving a fuck about your boring ass lesson, but she's still gonna be the smartest kid in here."
There's a silence until Davies finally gathers the small amount of dignity he has left and says, "Noah, Principal Figgins' office now. You too, Quinn."
.
"Where are you going? Figgins' office is down there," Quinn says, pointing in the opposite direction of where Puck is walking.
"I know. I'm not going just so I can get the same lecture over. I basically have it memorised," Puck says. It's lingering in the air, but neither pushes it too much.
"It wasn't because of the baby," he says finally. They're sitting cross-legged on the auditorium floor.
"I didn't think it was."
There's another silence. "I was right. You're the smartest kid in that room. Probably the only one who's got a future ahead of them."
"Oh, the irony in that," Quinn says softly.
"How?"
"I'm sixteen and I'm pregnant. My life is officially over."
And it's weird, because this time, it's not an overreaction because her mom won't buy her that sweater she wants or because Finn might have a thing for Rachel.
"Not if you don't let it be."
"How so?" she asks, because it's intriguing seeing into the mind of Noah Puckerman — something she hasn't done since she was nine years old.
"Well..." he begins. "You don't have to let it ruin your life. If you're sure you don't want me to be the father, I'll still be around. Uncle Puck. I kinda like that."
And it's back in the air again because she's not sure she doesn't want him to be the father.
"Yeah. That might be nice. Thanks."
"For what?"
Quinn's stumped with that one. He's right; for what? Maybe for telling her she was the prettiest girl in school when they were in third grade and maybe for watching the stars with her when her mom and dad got in a fight and maybe for lending her his jacket in their freshman year when she left hers at home.
"Just... thanks."
She doesn't mention the cigarette packet she sees him throw away or the stolen glances when they're in glee club, because maybe it's okay now. He never does stop giving her that look, not even when she's a hot mess with pink hair and a Ryan Seacrest tattoo.