AN: True fact, this story is being posted to my Livejournal first, and this second. So if you want it the day it comes out it's there. Second true fact: I am now taking prompts. Not for this story, because I've got it all outlined. In general though, if you give me a song or a word or something along those lines I might develop a story around it.
I. Denial
She bumps into him in the lunch line. All wrapped up in the red uniform that all Coach Sylvester's little minions of the anti-Christ wear.
"Excuse me," She mumbles, flashing white teeth through those pink-glossed lips. He can smell the cherry over the rotten gravy the lunch ladies are slopping atop this today's lunch of chicken and potatoes.
"Yeah, excuse you," He mumbles, clutching his tray tight between his fingers and walking over to the table on the right. Why they need cheerleaders during baseball season is beyond him anyways.
Santana Lopez is punching her number into his cell phone and screening his text messages when he sees her make a beeline for him. He tries to duck into his locker and be invisible but it's too late, she already saw him.
"Hey Quinn," He cringes because now that Santana has acknowledged her existence, he can't run away and pretend he never noticed her coming.
"Santana," She returns with a big fake smile before turning to him. "Noah, right?"
"Puck," He's never really been in any hurry to get to Algebra II but it seems like a pretty good option to him now. He thinks he remembers something about factors...or factorials...or at least the basic ten numbers.
She shoves a piece of paper into his hands. He reads the words across the top in big black letters: Chastity Club. He looks up at her, because clearly this girl has no idea who she's dealing with. "We're having an introductory barbecue at my house. Tonight. 8 o'clock."
"Pass." He tries to hand the paper back to her, but she crosses her arms across her chest.
"Keep it, just in case," He notices her eyes are green. "You never know, you could change your mind about going to hell." She gives him the most fantastic bitchy smile in the world before prancing off down the hall.
"Quinn Fabray, she just moved here from Wisconsin. Really piece of work, right?" Santana snorts, handing him back his cell phone. "Coach Sylvester is making us all go to that crazy Virgin Mary party of hers." He shrugs, and throws his backpack over his shoulder. Off to the nurse's office after all.
"You didn't come to my party."
He slams his locker door, and shrugs, as he starts to walk down the hall. Gym is the only class he actually goes to all the time, it makes up for all the rest of the classes he's practically failing.
"Noah," She snaps, quickening her pace to keep up with him. "I know your probably not the kind of guy who believes in keeping it in his pants but it's rude not to show up when someone offers you to come to their home for free food and a chance to dance with a bunch of pretty girls with short skirts." He doesn't answer, just keeps walking towards those double doors. "Not to mention most of their IQs are probably lower than dirt, let alone yours."
"I don't like you," He stops, in the middle of the hallway. "I don't know what universe you live in but read my lips: We aren't friends. Never will be. And my name is not Noah, even if he's a prime player in the big fat Bible of yours. It's Puck, as in Puckerman, as in Jewish. So, no, I'm not interested in finding Christ the Savior. No thank you." He continues to walk, but he hears her right behind him. It becomes almost a race for who can reach those doors first. He's practically sprinting by the end, but she veers of and blocks him.
This isn't football. He can't tackle her to get her out of the way, "Alright, Puck, you want to play dirty? Fine, with me." He watches her lips elongate the words. So pink and shiny, so virginal. He finds himself wondering if she's ever kissed a boy before. "And I could care less if you like me or not, believe me, there are enough boys that do. I only care because I like your friend, Finn." And it all makes sense, his buddy would go for a girl so stark and pristine. He's about as intelligent as a fire hydrant. "So, next time I say hello to you-"
"I'll pretend your the gosh, golly coolest girl ever. Okay, Skipper?" He pushes past her, bumping her shoulder, and enters the gymnasium.