I do not own Glee, the Glee Project, or any of the characters. This story is purely fiction.
"Excuse me, ma'am?" Damian McGinty asked, resting his hands on the counter in the front office. "I'm Damian McGinty. I'm new here. I need my schedule."
"You're the Irish transfer student. Hold on let me print it out. And I'll call someone down to show you around." The secretary said, typing some things into her computer. She talked slowly and loudly, like Damian didn't speak English. "How are you liking America so far?"
"It's…okay, ma'am." Damian didn't feel like telling her the truth. He missed Ireland greatly and wasn't too keen on America so far.
A page started printing and she picked up the phone. "Mr. Schue, could you send Rachel Berry down? The new student is here."
She handed Damian his schedule as a girl walked in.
"Hi, you must be Damian McGinty." She said, shaking his hand vigorously. "I've done a little research on you."
"That's kind a creepy." Damian muttered, taking his schedule from the secretary.
"You're the new exchange from Ireland, a beautiful place to golf." She said.
"I'm a transfer student, not exchange. And we do more then golf. Golfing is mostly in Scots." Damian said.
"You are a singing I heard. Listen, our club is in desperate need of singer, people to stand in the background and sway while I sing." Rachel said, walking out of the office.
Damian followed her, only so he knew where his classes were. The truth was, this chick was really annoying.
"…I shine brilliantly in center stage, performing solos. So I highly suggest you audition for Glee club. Singing Harmony is fun." She said, like she was talking to a three-year-old child who didn't understand English. "Swaying in background can be fun."
Damian opened his mouth to respond, but before he could get a word out Rachel was hit in the face with a red slushie by a girl in a red and white cheerleading uniform, some splashed onto Damian.
Rachel stopped walking, her mouth half open.
"Welcome back." The cheerleader laughed, before walking off, empty cup in hand.
Rachel turned around and walked into the girls' bathroom.
Damian looked down at his schedule. His shook red slushie off it and headed to his first class, Spanish. He walked in just as the bell rang.
"Daddy, you promise I'll make friends." McKynleigh asked, running her finger over the corner of the principals' desk.
"I promise, daughter." Mr. Figgins, her father, said. "You will be a social butterfly. The first bell is about to ring. Go to class."
"Thanks, Daddy." She said, standing up.
She grabbed her backpack and walked out of the office.
Heading down the hall to her first class, she got hit with a green and a blue slushie, soaking her books and through her white t-shirt.
"Dude, that's the principal's kid." One of the jocks with a cup said.
"Are you fucking serious? I thought she was just another freshman." The other one said.
McKynleigh wiped the cold liquid off her eyes and ran into the bathroom.
"Hey! There's no need to tell your dad about this! It was a totally accident!" one of the jocks called before they ran down the hall.
McKynleigh grabbed a handful of paper towels and wiped her face. She wanted to go tell her dad, but she wanted friends more. She knew that everyone was already walked on eggshells around her because she was the principal's daughter.
It took her fifteen minutes to get most of the slushie out of her hair and off her face. But her shirt was hopeless, stained blue and green, her bra showing through.
She walked to her Spanish class her books pressed to her chest so no one would see her pink plaid bra. She sat down at an empty table in the back of the room. Right as the bell rang, a tall boy walked in. He had red slushie on left arm and the sleeve of his gray pull over hoodie.
The only empty seat was next to McKynleigh. He walked down the isle and sat down beside her.
He looked over at her and smiled kindly. He looked down at her chest and smirked.
I hate him. McKynleigh thought, crossing her arms across her chest and turning towards the teacher.
"…Spanish 1-2." The teacher was saying. His name was written on the board. Mr. Schuester. "I hope you like the seat you're sitting in, it will be your seat all year."
Something dropped into McKynleigh's lap. She looked down. A gray hoodie was draped over her leg.
She looked over at the boy she was sitting next to her. He was sitting back in his seat, staring intently at Mr. Schue. He was wearing a light blue polo, no hoodie.
McKynleigh looked at him and pulled the hoodie over her head.
The bell rang and the boy sitting next to her gathered his things and stood up. He was out of the room before she had her things together. She shoved her things into her backpack and ran after him. She grabbed her wrist and stopped him. He turned around and faced her.
"Thank you." She said, letting go of his wrist.
"I just thought you could use a friend." He said.
"I'm McKynleigh." She said, holding out her hand.
"Damian." He said, shaking her hand.
"Why do you wanna be my friend?" McKynleigh asked.
"You looked like you needed someone, and I'm guessing you're a freshman." He explained, putting his hands in his pockets.
"You don't know who I am?" she asked.
"Am I supposed to?" Damian asked.
"Most people do…" she said, scratching the back of her leg with the toe of her sneaker.
"I thought you were only a freshman?" Damian asked.
"I am." She said.
"I'm confused." Damian said, scratching the back of his neck.
The warning bell rang.
"I'll talk to you later." Damian said, turning and walking down the hall.
"I'll get you your hoodie back tomorrow!" she hollered.
Damian was too far away and couldn't hear her.