Hi everyone! So this is my new story! Some people may know I have recently jumped off the Puckleberry ship and sailed to Finchel. But the thing is, I still love Puckleberry dearly, so I decided to incorporate my Puckleberry love with my Finchel love. So this story is ONLY about P/R friendship. There is no romance. I know Finn seems like a douche right now, but F/R end up being the OTP. Just give it time. But this isn't any Puckleberry friendship story, this is EPIC Puckleberry friendship. I'm sure some of you aware of Lea Michele and Jonathon Groff's epic friendship and that is somewhat how I am making the P/R friendship.
Please R&R! Since it is almost summer I am able to update much more frequently. The more reviews, the faster the update, I PROMISE! My goal is 5 reviews per chapter. I know you are capable of that! Please!
Disclaimer: if you honestly think I am holding any claim to Glee, please check into the nearest mental hospital. I am writing FANFICTION.
Rachel feels Finn's thumb stroking hers and she thinks she actually might lift off the ground, the happiness she feels is elevating her so much. She is walking down the school's main hallway, during passing time, with her hand intertwined with Finn's. Finn Hudson. It's not even a dream, which is what surprises her the most, this is real. She is really dating Finn Hudson. And has been, for a month now. It seems doesn't even seem plausible. The hunky quarterback falls for the geeky outcast. It is so unbelievably cliché. It sounds like something out of a crappy love story. But the thing is, it's her love story. It is everything she ever hoped love would be. So as she spins the dial to her locker and opens it and Finn sends her a goofy smile before reaching in to get all the books he knows she needs for her next class, she can't help but feel her heartbeat spin widely out of control. It's one of those things she can't help. She leans forward to kiss him softly, before pulling away and smiling up at him from under her eyelashes. He sends her his signature grin that makes her stomach flip. A crowd of 3,000 people watching her belt out Don't Rain on My Parade doesn't faze her in the slightest, but seeing an awkward clumsy 16 year old boy smile sends her into a tailspin.
"See you after class" he whispers, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear before disappearing into the crowd of high school students. Rachel sighs, a sigh plucked straight from a romantic movie, and glides into her classroom. It really feels as if she is gliding.
She knows the teacher is talking and she knows she should be listening, Geometry is her worst class, but she just can't keep that goofy smile out of her mind. Even the flicker of those teeth wipes all other information out of her mind. So when she leaves, her heart is beating in excitement to see the real smile. He always meets her outside of Geometry. But she flies out of the classroom, only to stumble to a halt when no tall, clumsy boy is there to meet her. She looks around anxiously, hoping to see him jogging to catch her, but none of the surrounding people surpass 6 feet. She thinks he must just be running late. It really doesn't make sense since this is his free period, but something must have come up. So she lets her shoulder fall, but only fractionally, and she walks dejectedly to her locker. It feels foreign to retrieve her own binders, but she does so without complaint. The disgruntlement she feels is unfair, he has been nothing short of perfection for the past month, and failing to meet her outside of her class once is not cause for anger.
So she closes her locker and shuffles to the auditorium. Now it is her free period and, as always, she is planning to practice in the auditorium. Her ideas for Glee aren't going to get accepted without practice, are they now? Not that they will anyway, no one actually likes her. So she attempts to balance her plethora of musical sheets and binders in one hand as she struggles to turn the door handle. Normally Finn is an extra hand. She succeeds with her mission and quickly slides through the open door. The struggle of holding her binders had been a waste though, since they all go tumbling to the floor with a thud as soon as she enters the auditorium. A choked gasp escapes her mouth and she feels the ability to move evade her.
"Finn?" she chokes, grasping onto one of the auditorium chairs in hopes to remain upright. Up on the stage, in front of her very eyes, under the spotlight, she sees her boyfriend, her boyfriend, tangled in a mess of limbs. All she can make out of the figure underneath the large boy's body is a mess of blonde hair. Perfectly blonde hair. And a small rounded bump protruding from under her yellow dress. And she knows, she knows immediately who the culprit is. The culprit who is sucking her boyfriend's face off. Quinn Fabray. She hears Finn gasp for air and his head whips around to look at Rachel, directly in the eyes.
"Rachel?' he exclaims, desperately trying to refill his lungs with the oxygen he lost from attaching his face to the blonde's. Rachel feels her arm de-attach from the armrest of the chair and it falls helplessly to her side. Her face crumples and the tears start to cascade helplessly down her cheeks. She knows trying to stop them would be useless; she has to wait for them to run out.
Her music papers pushed out of her mind, she whips around and dashes through the auditorium door, flying down the hallway. She refuses to turn around. She doesn't know where her feet are taking her, she simply follows their lead. She can feel the tears gaining power and she chokes on a sob. She prays her feet will lead her to their destination soon, since she can feel the heat of McKinley High's eyes on her. She is aware everyone will know about this by the end of the day. It is inevitable. With a school filled with gossip piranhas like Jacob Ben-Israel there isn't much she can do. He was probably behind the curtain the whole time.
Suddenly her feet take a sharp left and throws open a door in front of her to reveal the music room. She surveys the seemingly empty room, before collapsing onto the piano bench. She buries her head in her arms and lets a sob escape her, as her tiny body convulses under the intensity of the sob. She feels nauseous. She feels weary. She feels adrenalized. She hates this feeling. It must be heartbreak. Another sob racks her body, but is cut short by a throat clearing from the back corner of the room. Rachel jerks her head off the piano and whips around to face the throat-clearer.
She is facing Noah Puckerman.
"Noah?" she chokes, desperately trying to wipe away the unattractive wetness dripping down her face. Puck throws an awkward smile at her.
"So…did Barbara Streisand die or something?" Puck mumbles, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. Rachel feels her face crumple again and she emits a strangled sob.
"Wait…no, shit! I'm sorry Rachel! I didn't know she died! Look I'm sure she is in a better place where she can sing songs like all the time and stuff and be in musicals and…" Noah babbles frantically, but trails off when a smile crosses Rachel's features.
"Shut it, Puckerman" she says weakly, wiping a few of the tears traveling down her cheeks away. Puck smirks at her, but a worried look is still prominent in his face.
"If she didn't die…then why are you like crying out your body weight?" Puck asks, raising himself off the chair and taking a step closer to Rachel.
"I…" Rachel begins, but can't bring herself to say those four words. Four evil words. Puck looks at her expectantly, moving a small step closer. Rachel takes a deep breathe, fresh tears forming in her eyes.
"Finn…" she begins again, with not avail. Puck furrows his eyebrows.
"Finn…?" he presses, moving two steps closer.
"Finn…cheated" and that is all she can admit before her body is enveloped in another wave of sobs. The reality finally hits her. Finn cheated on her, with Quinn Fabray. The man whom she had sworn she would marry and grow old with, posing for the paparazzi as Hollywood's power couple. The man she would relent to live a life with, sans the Hollywood status, had lied and deceived her. She could no longer suppress the sobs as they flooded to the surface. She felt a shift in the balance of the bench and heat radiating next to her. She glanced up from under her arms to see Puck had taken a seat next to her, a look of shock on his face.
"Wait…Finn cheated on you? Finn Hudson? With who?" Puck said roughly, looking awed. Rachel opens her mouth to snarl the name, but then shuts it quickly, realizing this information could hurt Noah as much as it has hurt her. Quinn was carrying his baby. She spares a glance at him to see his eyes searching her face for the answer. His forehead wrinkles in confusion, and then suddenly all emotion clears his face and Rachel knows he knows. She swears, for a moment there, she can see Noah. She sees hurt and anger and confusion etched into the contours of his face. But as quickly as it came, it disappears and Puck returns. He takes a shallow breathe and composes his face so it seems to be a look of indifference.
"Oh," is all he says. He looks away from Rachel, intensely focusing on the chair in the far back of the room. Rachel feels another tear fall, but this time it isn't for her, but for Puck. She was well aware of his desire for her and the baby, to be the father to the family he had never had.
"So I guess this kind of sucks for both of his," he says hoarsely, cracking a desperate smile at her. She flashes a smile back, both of them knowing the falseness of the smiles. It is a mask, a desperate attempt to numb the pain. Suddenly the moment of sorrow is broken by a frantic pounding on the door.
"Rachel?" a voice calls desperately through the door, followed by more pounding. Rachel stiffens sharply and feels a fresh wave of emotion crash over her.
"It's Finn," she hisses, surveying the room desperately for an escape.
"I got this," Puck growls, shooting off the wooden bench.
"Wait, Noah!" Rachel calls sharply, reaching out to wrap her fingers around his wrist to stop him. He looks at her confusion.
"Don't let him in here," she whispers anxiously, "if I see him, I might just run back into his arms like I always do. I need to stay strong" Noah smirks and flexes his gargantuan arm muscles.
"No problem babe" he says calmly, nearly trembling with anticipation as he throws the door open, making sure to block Finn's view of Rachel.
"Hey buddy!" Puck exclaims with false enthusiasm, Rachel covers her mouth to muffle her giggle.
"Move it, Puck" Finn growls attempting to push past Puck. Puck stands his ground, muscles stiffening.
"Know what Finny? I don't really think so. Since remember how when I slept with Quinn and you punched my face off, or tried to, because you thought we betrayed you? Well there's girl in here who is your fucking girlfriend who apparently just saw getting on with who? Oh yeah, Quinn Fabray" Puck smirks, but the pure unadulterated anger with visible in his eyes.
"Know what, Puck? Just shut the hell up! You don't know what you're talking about!" Finn screams furiously, ramming into Puck who stumbles backwards, sprawling onto the floor, hitting his head with a smack against the tile. Finn tumbles down next to him, his face smacking against the tile as blood begins to fall freely from his nose. Puck sits up slowly, looking around dazedly and rubbing the back of his head. He glanced around and took in his surrounding. Suddenly anger reemerges on his face and springs up to tackle Finn, slamming his fast against his jaw. Finn lets out a thud but pushes Puck off and attempts to struggle his way on top of Puck, raising his fist for a punch.
"STOP IT!" a watery voice shrieks from behind them. Puck and Finn freeze in their positions to stare at the tiny brunette who is glowering, unshed tears glinting in her eyes, "Just stop!" And she spins around flies from the room, her sob not going unheard by the two boys.
They remain interlocked in their positions for a moment, until Finn lets his shoulder slump and he stands up, awkwardly brushing himself off. Puck sits up, massaging the back of his head.
"Sorry," Finn mutters, and disappears through the door without another word. Puck watches him go with no regret. Yesterday, he would have felt like an ass for punching Finn after the baby drama, but today, Mr. Perfect has no hold over him, no power. He is no better than Puck. Puck can no longer ignore the throbbing at the back of his head. He knows he should go to the nurse, but if he tells them he got in another fight, they will probably suspend him. He can't take another night of his mom's heartbroken looks. Ever since Quinn moved in it is all he ever sees. So he decided to ignore the pain, both in his heart and in his head.
It's not like I loved Quinn or anything he thinks to himself, strolling through the door into the now deserted hallway. The bell must have rang, but Mrs. Greenspan won't care if he misses class. It's not as if he shows up more than twice a week anyway. So he shuffles down the hallway, angrily kicking a plastic cup against the wall.
I didn't love her. I couldn't have loved her. I was just horny. That's why I thought about her all the fucking time. He repeated those words to himself until they seemed to have no meaning anymore. But as hard as he tried, he couldn't get that feeling out of his chest. The feeling that he had just lost something, something he wasn't sure he could get back. Because Quinn was the one girl who wasn't willing to fall into his arms and get lost in his sea of compliments and false smiles. His winks full of lies and deceit. His ability to hold a girl so tightly against his chest they thought he would never let them go, but he always did. Puck knew he was a jerk. He had known since the day his father called him an ass-faced little bastard. He has looked up the meaning of bastard later that day. And then an hour later, his father was gone. He was 8, and he hadn't understood why his mom had cried and cried. He had gone into her room looked her and the eyes and said.
"My teacher told me you only cry when you're sad. Why are you crying? Aren't you happy? Daddy is finally gone. Now he can't hurt us anymore. Me or you or that little baby in your belly. I don't miss him" He had fallen asleep curled against his mother that night as she cried softly. But she told him now she was crying tears of happiness. But that day had changed him. That day had changed him from Noah to Puck. The hurt he felt just wouldn't subside. He got older and tried alcohol and drugs, sex and lies, and they did make him feel better. For the night. In the morning he would wake up with the same pain as he had before he got high, or drunk, or filled with ecstasy. So he does the same thing to the people around him. He wanted someone to understand the pain he feels every time he walked past his mother sleeping, with the other half of the bed empty. The way he feels every time he was at football practice, or baseball practice, or basketball practice and he sees all those 10 year old practicing with their dads. The way he feels when he hears anyone mention their dad. He just wants someone to understand him. He thought after Quinn's parents kicked her out she might, and sometimes it seemed like she did, but underneath it all she didn't. She missed her house and her clothes. Her car and her friends. But Noah realized she never really looked up to her parents. At least not the way Puck looked up to his dad.
But 5 minutes ago, the look of Rachel's face, the anger and the hurt, he saw himself for a moment. She was confused and scared. Finn was her safety net, the boy who wouldn't drop her. The boy who accepted her for who she was. Just like his dad. But now Finn was gone, and she was alone. The way Puck was. So Puck makes a u-turn in the hallway and looks for any sign of the brunette. Because he thinks, my god, he may have just found the person who can understand him the way no one else has. He stops and swivels around on his toes to look for any sign of her. Then he sees the janitor closet door is open just a crack, and he hears a muffle sob break through the silence of the hallway.
He shoves his hands deep into his pockets and makes his way to the edge of the door.
"Rachel?" he calls quietly. The sobbing stops. He hears a sharp intake of breath.
"What do you want, Noah?" she says back coldly. He hears her shakily breathe in again and the quiet sniffle of her nose.
"I wanted to say…that Finn is an ass. And…I know before I said we couldn't be friends…but if you like…need someone…I guess I can be there for you" Puck mumbles. For some reason his heart is pounding against his chest, as if he is anxious for her answer. He doesn't know why. But he thinks…he might need her. Because right now, no one will talk to him. And the loneliness is unbearable. It is like a knife penetrating through every nerve in his body, blinding him with pain. He never realized what life is like without friends, without anyone. He thought he had Quinn, he thought he had found the girl he truly loved, but the girl sniffling in the janitor's closet disproved that theory. He realized this is how Rachel must every single day of high school. Lost and confused. And the worst part was she didn't do anything to deserve this torture. And now Puck knows, he knows he has to make it up to her. He has to try,
"Why would you do that for me Noah? It is obvious you don't like me. I think my hundreds of shirts stained with food coloring and corn syrup prove that fact" she snaps. Noah pushes the door open to reveal her hugging her knees tightly against her chest, as if trying to hold herself together and stop the hole in her heart from reopening. Her eyes are bloodshot and swollen, and her hair is clinging desperately to the tears sliding down her cheeks. Noah sighs and slips into the closet, sitting down on a stool next to her.
"Because I never understood how you felt before. God, if I were you I would have socked me in the face by now. Having no friends sucks. Being betrayed by the person you loved sucks. This," he motions to their position in the closet, "sucks. And I sure as hell need someone right now, and by the looks of things so do you" Noah inhales quickly, refusing to release his breath until she responds. He deserves some form of pain. She looks him up and down, as if surveying his friendship capability. A look of dejection crosses her features and he is sure she is going to tell him to leave, to get the hell out.
Instead, she sighs and lays her head softly on his shoulder, her hair splaying onto his neck, tickling his collar.
"Is that a yes?" he asks hopefully, cautiously slipping an arm over her shoulder. She smiles up at him and nods into his shoulder.
They stay there, in that closet, for another hour. He reminds her she is missing class but she shrugs. She is acing English anyway. Puck is less than surprised. The comfort of having each other, just knowing someone will be there to call, to vent about their day, to share inside jokes with, to cry with, to laugh with, is reason enough to miss class. For them both.