Contrary to popular opinion, Noah Puckerman did in fact know where the McKinley High School library was located. He even made use of the books from time to time, though he was careful to never be seen. After all, he had a reputation to uphold, one that was already suffering due to his participation in Glee Club, and he certainly couldn't afford to have anyone thing he gave a shit about his grades.
What? Even a school as crappy as McKinley might take notice if he actually failed the classes he didn't attend.
Walking through the dimly lit stacks, Puck ran a finger along the worn spines of several books about the Revolutionary War. All of them were far older than he was…hell, he doubted any of the books were published anytime during his mother's lifetime.
Your tax dollars Inot/I at work.
As he contemplated the books, he heard something, the sound of low voices, from the small cluster of computers at the back of the room. Normally, he would have stayed away, the better to avoid detection, but, for some odd reason, he found himself peering around the corner of the stacks.
Oh, how he wished he'd gone with his first instinct and stayed the fuck away from the computers.
'Cause some things were so emotionally and psychologically scarring that they stayed with you, no matter how much you prayed for a sudden bout of amnesia to strike you.
Like, immediately.
Jacob Ben Israel was sitting in front of one of the computers, naked and sweaty, pale, doughy flesh jiggling and reflecting the light from the monitor as he made a keening noise and…burped the worm.
Oh, sick.
Puck was pretty sure he just threw up in his own mouth.
He was so horrified he couldn't even bring himself to mock and torture Jewfro. He just wanted to get the hell out of there and possibly drink until he blacked out. Hopefully, the alcohol would erase any and all of his memory of this afternoon.
That was when he heard a snippit of whatever Jewfro was watching.
"Rachel," Ben Israel's voice, obviously recorded earlier for one of his video blog things, "Are you aware, you've never been hotter than you are right now, dressed as Britney Spears?"
"Thank you."
That made Puck freeze as he realized exactly what was happening.
Jacob Ben Israel aka Jewfro, the creepy video stalker who wandered the halls letching at girls, was jerking the gherkin to a video of Rachel Berry in her little Britney Spears.
The five knuckle shuffle.
Relishing the hot dog.
Uck.
Now, Puck was a healthy young man and he had nothing against answering the bone-a-phone, but somehow the idea of Jewfro, who had an already creepy fixation on Rachel, using a video of her to clean the pipes…it was wrong.
It was one thing to have a mental spank bank, but another thing entirely to use actual picture of a girl you knew to get off. That was what porn was for.
Yes, Puck had standards when it came to some things.
Before he could think too hard about thinks, he took a few quick steps forward and planted his hand firmly on Jewfro's head, slamming it down onto the desk, not hard enough to really hurt, but hard enough to get the creeper's attention.
Letting out a high pitched squeal of fear, Ben Israel squirmed, but Puck kicked the chair forwards, trapping the naked boy without having to touch any of the exposed flesh. As it was, he knew he'd be dipping his hand in a bowl of that disinfectant stuff his mom seemed to buy by the vat. Seriously, he'd pulled wads of gunk out of pool filters that were less unsettling that the sweaty fro under his palm.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he demanded, using his free hand to yank the cable connecting the camera to the monitor. Once disconnected, the image of Rachel sashaying down the hall disappeared from the screen.
"I…I was editing footage for my blog and the allure of Rachel in her little Britney Spears costume overwhelmed me and I was compelled to worship…"
"God, SHUT UP!" Puck exclaimed, not wanting to hear the inner workings of Jewfro's mind. His first question had clearly been rhetorical. "Here's what's going to happen. You are going to knock off this whole stalker thing you have going for Rachel. If I even think you're thinking about her again, I'll hog tie you and dump you Coach Sylvester's office. Naked, since you don't seem to have a problem with public nudity."
Jacob whimpered at the thought of that and tried to squirm away from Puck, the fabric of the seat under him making a squishing noise. Puck grimaced, because…nasty. Jewfro must have some sort of glandular thing going on to produce that much sweat. It was just wrong.
"Now, I'm taking that memory card and I'm gonna go." Puck bounced Ben Israel's head into the table again for good measure. "And you're going to do the world a favor and get dressed and seriously reconsider the whole perverted creeper thing you have going on. If you don't…Coach Sylvester's office."
With that threat lingering, Puck yanked the memory chip from the camera and released Jewfro's head, carefully holding that damp hand away from his body as he walked away. Behind him, he could hear the sounds of Jacob scrambling for his clothes and Puck continued on his way. He'd seen way too much of Ben Israel already.
Peering at his hand, he wondered if the art room was unlocked. He could swish his hand in turpentine for as a stop gap measure until he got home. That might work. At least it would make him feel like he didn't want to peel the outermost 15 layers of skin from his palm.
The things he did for…well, not love, but definitely like. Rachel was…Rachel. They had a weird relationship, one that he valued. Even though she was a crazy pain and made him think about stuff that occasionally made his brain hurt. He used to avoid people like that…now he actually welcomed her company.
Just another one of the weirder aspects of growing up, he guessed.