Skewed Serendipity
Rachel isn't quite sure what to say. It is St. Valentine's day, a day of love and beauty and wonderment. A day of romance. If Rachel had had a boyfriend she probably would have expected something like a dozen roses and a box of chocolates. If she had been more popular she might have expected a note or two from a secret admirer. But she doesn't have a boyfriend and she isn't popular at all, so the things Rachel does expect are a slightly more romantically themed slushy facial and some sort of perverse version of a valentine from that nerd who keeps on trying to sniff her hair.
She's always one to live up to expectations of course.
The slushy is bright red and cherry flavored and the large red stains it leaves on her jacket match the pink of her blouse. The valentine is just as bad as she thought it would be, a metallic gold thong stuffed haphazardly into the vents of her locker. She picks it up with her fingernails and tosses it into the nearest waste receptacle. Her personal bottle of sweet pea hand sanitizer is so nice to have in these sort of situations.
What Rachel doesn't expect out of her Valentines Day however is to have something smoldering and brown and slightly lopsided shoved into her face during lunch.
At first Rachel wonders if Puck is into modern art and this is his latest interpretive project. She can't imagine what on earth it's supposed to represent though. Probably something along the lines of dirt clods.
With this in mind she says in a chipper voice. "It certainly is shaped nicely."
Puck looks up from his sneakers to stare at her for a second, eyebrow cocked and mouth slightly open in his trademark. "Are you stupid" look.
Rachel pouts, unsure of what to say next.
The silence stretches, ticking by in minutes.
Finally Puck manages an, "It's for you." His voice is strangled, somewhere along the lines of gruff and sexy gone very, very wrong.
Rachel's eyebrows shoot up and her smiles slides a little. "Um…I do a appreciate the thought Puck, and I do think that it's a very expressive piece. But you see the decorum in my room is completely wrong for it…giving it to me would only diminish its overall aesthetic value."
He raises both eyebrows, pursing his lips in that familiar disapproving fashion. "What?"
Rachel nods gently towards his art piece. "You're work, I mean, I do feel flattered that you would give it to me but I don't think that my room is exactly the right place for such a…distinct piece. I really do think it's wonderfully crafted. You certainly have lot of passion."
Puck frowns, forehead crinkling to a peak. "Look. Do you want the cookie or not cause I have no idea what you're talking about."'
Cookie? Rachel frowned cocking her head to the side to examine the thing.
She leaned forward, almost out of instinct, sniffing at it once. It smells of vaguely edible, vaguely being the operative word.
On closer inspection Rachel sees that the 'cookie' as Puck had called it holds something akin to a heart shaped appearance when looked at from the right angle. The red smears she has mistaken for paint are actually a heavily smudged "Be My Valentine?" in wobbly, frosted, red writing.
Rachel's eyes widen. "You baked?"
"Yeah I fucking baked!" Puck snaps.
Rachel nods slowly. "I knew that. I was just…joking…"
Puck huffs, breath smelling of cigarette smoke and take-five gum. "Do you want the fucking thing or not?"
Rachel winces, resisting the urge to reprimand him for his language. For a brief moment she considers starting up a cuss jar for the glee club but she realizes all to fast that Puck was more likely just to filch from that anyway.
Now Puck's rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, the other still proffering the baked good. There's some sort of ugly red rash that's breaking out all over his face. It's blotchy and growing intensely more red by the second. Rachel opens her mouth to inform him of the rather alarming outbreak, wondering if he's allergic to something they put in the lunches today.
With a gasp she snaps her mouth shut, eyes widening to dinner plate proportions as she stares at him.
He's blushing. Noah Puckerman is blushing.
It's like watching some sort of depraved Japanese science fiction movie. This is Puck and Puck blushing is just so...so wrong.
He shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot like a gawky middle schooler on his first date and all Rachel wants for him to do is stop.
She reaches out, gingerly taking the cookie from Puck's hands. They are sweaty and damp and Rachel shudders. Quickly she brings it to her mouth, taking an unwilling bite. It tastes like brunt flour and salt and something along the lines of sugar. Rachel chews, struggling to swallow the cookie. The texture is pretty close to that of gravel and Rachel shudders at what this will do to her delicate esophagus.
Nevertheless she manages to smile, swallowing again with a pronounced. "Mmmmmm."
Puck looks at her as if she is stupid. "Yeah. Whatever." He turns without a word, leaving her alone in the cafeteria with a bad taste in her mouth.
It is later that day that she sees him stalking down the hall, he barely casts her a glance as he passes. He's all wretched attitude and football now. The epitome of bad ass.
"Happy Valentines Day Puck!" Rachel calls after him, voice blithe and overly affectionate. He continues walking, back only stiffening for a second, but Rachel can see a group of hive-like red blotches begin to creep up his neck.
Rachel smiles.
End.
It took me so long to actually get around to writing this. I had planned the entire thing out around spring break and now it's already summer!
Anyway, hope you enjoyed this. Reviews and criticism are always welcome.
-Schyzotypal X
