A Songbird in a Puckleberry Tree
He Lives on Cherry Lane
TFLN Prompt: (815): I woke up and found 10 txts from him. All sent at 6:30 am, and all about the muffin man.
Rachel Berry was astounded to find that she'd awoken at 8:00 am. Such a late time was absolutely unacceptable for a Saturday morning, regardless of whether or not her ballet class for that day had been cancelled. She got out of bed and began her morning stretches, disgruntled that they hadn't been finished at least an hour ago. As she bent to touch her toes, the flashing light of her phone caught her eye.
Who would have tried to call her so early? Surely no one but her fathers was up at this time, as the rest of the glee club seemed to abhor the morning light, but she could hear her fathers puttering about downstairs through her open door. Her eyes grew wide when she lifted to phone to find that she had ten missed text messages from none other than Noah Puckerman.
Her heart started to pound. Was there some sort of emergency? Had he done something stupid again and was now hiding out from the police in some dump in the backwoods? She truly hoped he wasn't begging her for sanctuary. A future Broadway star could not risk her career by harboring a fugitive.
Or…was it worse? Had his mother or sister had an accident? Did Shelby call to tell him something was wrong with Beth? By the time she scrolled to the first text and opened it up her hands were shaking. What she read stopped every mental process cold.
hey berry…have u seen the muffin man?
She blinked. What? Her fingers found the next message, and then the next, and the next. Each message left her more confused than the last, all of Noah's horrendous profanities aside.
srsly berry the fuckin muffin man
have you seen him?
the one that lives on goddamned cherry lane
shit berry this shits important. i need the muffin man
dammit berry fuckin answer me. point me to that jackass muffin man
BBBEEEERRRRYYYY
there even a cherry ln round here?
ur lettin me down berry. u know fuckin evrbdy
u c that bastard u damn well better let me know
Rachel sat on the edge of her bed and stared blankly at the myriad of messages. What on earth was Noah so upset about? She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, her brow crinkling as she pondered all of the possibilities. Finally, she reached a conclusion that seemed to her the only logical one. With a determined air, she closed her phone, got dressed, and made her way downstairs.
If they didn't have muffin mix, she'd simply go to the store. Clearly, Noah needed muffins desperately. He must have thought to message her because of her superior skills in the kitchen.
The thought that he may have just been drunk and looking for an excuse to talk to her never crossed her mind.