It was Wednesday, right? It had been hard to read the flyer posted to the wall of the locker room, especially with all the boobs and junk the other guys had scribbled all over it. He thought about flicking the lights on as he walked into the empty science classroom, even though he found the dark a little comforting. Sliding his giant frame into one of the desks in the middle of the room, he slung his backpack into the seat in front of him and rested his forehead on the cool desktop as he felt his stomach churn. That fourth burrito at lunch had been fighting him all afternoon.
Emma's heels clicked against the tiled floor as she hesitantly walked down to the science room. The celibacy club had slowly deteriorated when the president had broken her vows, but Figgins was intent on revamping the organization, this time with a responsible faculty advisor to oversee things rather than letting the organization be student run. Her eyes had widened at Figgins' proposal, but she could not deny that she was easily the best suited teacher for the spot. She had placed flyers strategically throughout the school, not at all surprised when they were quickly defaced. She wondered if anyone would show up at all.
She frowned as she opened the door to the science room, finding the lights on already. Her eyes fell upon a familiar student, and she looked at him curiously. "Oh, um, hi Finn...it's nice to see you, but the meeting doesn't start for another half hour..."
He jerked awake at the sound of her voice, blinking and rubbing the slight dent made by the pencil holder in the desk from his forehead. "Oh, okay," he said, standing, watching her watch his clumsy movements, suddenly feeling very embarrassed for even showing up. The last thing he wanted to seem was eager. "Sorry. I'll just wander around or something."
"Oh, no, no, you don't have to do that," Emma immediately told the boy, giving him a small smile. "I could, um, actually use your help. I thought we could perhaps rearrange the desks a little...maybe into a semicircle? I'm not sure how many people are going to show up, but I don't, um, think rows is the best set up..."
"Sure," he answered quickly, scooping up his desk and another quite easily and repositioning them. It suddenly dawned on him that there would be other people there. Other people who would see him. Other people who would expect him to talk. About sex. In front of her. Shit, he hadn't thought that far ahead. He had been before, but that was back when it was just one big joke and his girlfriend had dragged him there.
Emma helped him reposition the desks, the task taking her much longer. Once they were arranged in a neat semicircle, she turned to Finn, blushing a little. "So, um, I'm a little new to this...and I know you were part of the club when Quinn was, you know, still in charge...what, um, what exactly did you guys do?"
He could feel his cheeks turn red. Not so much at the thought of him grinding a balloon against his girlfriend's stomach but more the thought of having to explain it to Ms. Pillsbury. Which tumbled like a growing snowball in his mind towards a little scenario that had her participating as well. "Oh, you know just the usual stuff," he mumbled in embarrassment, looking down at the floor. "Celibacy stuff. And you know. Diseases." That sounded legit, right?
Emma swallowed uncomfortably, forcing a smile. "Thanks for your help, Finn. Everyone else should be getting here soon..." At least she hoped. "Do you, um, know who else is planning to come?"
Finn frowned, thinking about how Kurt had laughed at him and shut his bedroom door in his face when he had asked him to come. And Quinn, well, as brave a front as she put up, wasn't even bold enough to show her face at the club that had made her the butt of too many jokes during her pregnancy. Of course Rachel was one of the few actual virgins he knew, but he was pretty sure she still had voice lessons or something on Wednesdays. He slumped down in a desk, looking up at the clock. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure I heard some people talking about coming," he lied.
"That's great," Emma smiled, feeling a bit relieved. She sat down on the top of one of the desks crossing her legs, glancing toward the clock. The silence was making her feel a bit antsy. Looking over at Finn, she spoke. "So how have you been, Finn?"
He opened his mouth, starting to speak as his eyes drifted downwards, watching her skirt creep up the tiniest bit up her thighs. He thought about how whenever Rachel had worn those really short skirts he just wanted to throw his jacket over her legs to keep her safe from the pervy crap that his friends would say behind her back. But with Ms. Pillsbury, or Pillsbury-Dentist, whatever her name was now, he suddenly realized, just maybe, why she hid behind a desk all day. His eyes snapped back up as he swallowed, "I'm sorry what did you ask?"
Emma shifted, following Finn's eyes, looking down at her pale, skinny legs. She swallowed, pulling her skirt closer to her knees. "I, um, I...asked how you were doing..." she blushed, uncrossing her legs.
"Oh you know, same old," he began, looking anywhere except her legs as he leaned back and drummed his fingers in a familiar rhythm on the edge of his desk. "Basketball season's almost over. Midterms coming up. And Mr. Schue's pounding us pretty hard, but you know what that's like."
Emma's face flushed as red as her hair. "I, um..." she coughed, composing herself. "Do you guys have a set list picked for Regionals yet?" she quickly asked him.
"Nope," he shook his head, wondering why she seemed so uncomfortable talking about Glee Club. "Although that decision pretty much happens after Rachel and Mr. Schue spend an hour dueling it out in the parking lot after rehearsal. I can't say I'm involved in that."
Emma forced a laugh, once again looking at the clock, starting to feel a little uneasy. "Are you sure others are planning to come?"
He looked up at the clock as well, noticing that it was a full five minutes after the scheduled time. "Yeah, I don't know. You know everyone's usually so busy on Wednesdays, and everyone rushes home pretty quickly after school on burrito day." Glancing back at the door, he felt his stomach tighten from nerves and wondered if he could come up with his own believable excuse to just take off.
"Oh," Emma frowned, feeling increasingly uneasy. "Since you're here already, we could start, and, you know, see if anyone else shows up." She held onto her futile hope that more than one student would show up.
Finn nodded, watching her legs nervously swing a little off the edge of the desk as he reached to unzip his backpack. "Sure." He pulled out his geometry notebook. "Do I like, need to take notes or something?"
"Um, only if you'd like," she bit her lip, wondering what in the world she was going to talk about with just Finn. "We can keep this pretty casual," she assured him.
He pulled a pen out of his back pocket, looking up, waiting for her to speak. "Well what did, uh, you have planned?" He asked, trying to sound casual. Right, he thought, because talking about sex with a teacher was completely casual. Jesus, was she really gonna talk about sex?
"Well, um...I thought I'd begin by seeing if you had any questions first," she gulped, feeling just as uneasy as Finn looked. What had she been thinking, getting herself into this? Perhaps she was the purest teacher in the school, but that didn't make her equipped to talk to teens about it.
"Questions?" he frowned, staring down at the blank lines of his notebook paper. Of course he had questions. A million questions. But he had learned a long time ago that opening his mouth about anything just made him feel stupid. He looked up, noticing how nervous she looked and feeling a tug of sympathy for her since nobody else had even bothered to show up. "Questions about sex?" he asked. "Or not having sex."
Just hearing the word sex had Emma blushing again. "Either," she managed to whisper. "We can, you know, talk about anything that's on your mind, and then we'll talk about viewing it from celibate standpoint..."
Well it would be a lot easier if you'd get down from the desk, he thought, suddenly appreciating how her red hair fell in just the right spots, like the angles and swirls he had scribbled mindlessly in his geometry notebook. Not that the sight of her didn't raise a few questions as well. He wondered when he was ever going get another opportunity to just say what he was thinking.
"Okay, well, I guess I was wondering what the big deal about celibacy is. I mean I've already had sex, well technically only once if you don't count the hot tub or that time I touched Rachel's boobs so if I'm not a, you know," he looked down at the floor, not wanting to use the word 'virgin' and seem less manly, "then I figure the damage has already been done."
His response was blunt-but she had been asking for it. And this was what agreeing to be the advisor of the club entailed. She recrossed her legs and reached to tuck her hair behind her ear before answering. "Well, Finn, being intimate is something special. And, well, even if you've, you know, done things in the past, that doesn't mean that you can't wait to make it special again in the future." She let out a heavy breath as she finished, feeling a little hot.
He nodded, "Right but why can't it be special when you're in high school? And even if it's not special it still feels pretty awesome so I don't really get how that would cancel out sex with somebody you care about later as long as it's safe and stuff. And everybody says wait, wait, but what if I get hit by a bus or something? My mom told me to wait until I finished college but who does that? Nobody. It's crazy."
"There are some people who wait," Emma defended herself immediately. "And there's nothing wrong with that. Because it is something special," she stressed. "And there are, you know, a lot of emotional side effects to being...intimate, especially with rejection. If you wait until you're married, you can know you're waiting for the right person who's gonna stick by you. And you know, you can even wait longer. Like after you've been married for a while. You know, just to make sure."
"Make sure of what?" he frowned.
Emma chewed on her lip. "You know...that it's the right person. That you're not making a mistake. Because mistakes are messy and often can't be undone," she flushed, feeling a sick.
"Yeah but I thought part of being young is making mistakes," he argued, too deep in thought to notice her squirming. "That's what Mr. Schue says. And there's no way of really knowing whether the person you're sleeping with is gonna be out to be a total fail. I mean, that's life. And isn't like, the whole sex thing, a part of how you figure out if it's the right person in the first place? How you figured out your husband was the right person?"
Emma's eyes widened and she lowered her gaze to look at her feet, swinging them aimlessly as her anxiety increased. "Well, um, you know, marriage is special. Yes, very special...and, um, since it's so special many people can just tell that their spouse is going to be the right person. Even before, you know, they do things...just because their love is so special...is this making any sense?" Emma paused for a breath.
He let out an uneasy laugh, trying to break the awkwardness. "Um, not really. Sorry."
Emma sighed, her breath coming out in a frustrated huff. "What I'm trying to say is...well...that, um, intimacy isn't everything in a relationship," she let out her breath, feeling a little more at ease as she gathered her thoughts.
Nodding, he tried to encourage her a little, feeling her frustration with his confusion. "You're right. That makes a lot of sense. Thanks for clearing that up."
Emma looked at the clock, positive that no one else would be showing up. She sighed. "Thanks for coming today, Finn. It means a lot, you know, that you did..." she gave him a small smile, quickly offering, "and if you ever want to talk more, feel free to stop by my office anytime."
"Sure," he replied, flipping his notebook shut and throwing it in his backpack. He smiled as he watched her walk out of the room, wondering how she could make him feel better and confuse him all at the same time. It must've been a girl thing.
A/N: Welcome to our guilty pleasure ship. This started out as us just being bored and playing around with crack ships, but we're obsessed now. So yes, there are two of us writing, so excuse any choppiness. We hope you enjoy reading this as much as we've enjoyed writing it.
K&K