I don't own any of the cast of Glee, only the Harwood triplets. I'm still a fairly new Gleek, so be gentle!
"You have got to be kidding me," she groaned. They all leant forward in their seats to peer out the front windscreen at the new home. "This place is a dive."
"Yeah, well, we have to live with it, don't we," he responded, opening the car door and climbing out.
They were the only ones left outside – the bell had rung and the school had sucked all the students in like a huge whirlpool. The parking lot was deserted. He put on his sunglasses and flicked a wrist at the two girls to follow. The driver sighed, and climbed out too, donning sunglasses before locking the car behind them. She took the middle position as they walked up the shallow steps to the door. Through the safety glass she could see the students milling around, at the lockers and talking in groups. The second bell to call to class hadn't gone yet. She took a deep breath, glanced at the other two, gave them a nod, and pushed the door open.
'You might be wondering who we are, and I'll forgive you for that. Let me explain. That's me in the middle – the one in the tight jeans and cream top – and I'm the oldest of the three by two minutes and forty-two seconds. I was gifted with the looks, the talent and the brains. That makes me the triple threat. The name's Elle.
'To my left, that's Erin, the youngest. She's a whole five minutes and three seconds younger than me. She's kind of a bitch, but she's my little sister so I look out for her. She's talented too. And to my right? That's Ethan. He's the middle child. Yeah, you might be distracted by his chiselled good looks and boy band smile, but don't be fooled. He left plenty of broken hearts behind in England when we moved here.
'Don't worry about us, though. All these stares and the silence as we walk down the corridor? We're used to it. We're kind of a big deal.'
There was a guy with a mohawk to their right, walking with a bright blue slushie towards a guy who was 1) quite clearly gay and 2) quite clearly a loser. Elle reached out and snatched the slushie from Mohawk as she went past, just as he reached Gay (and his black female companion).
"Thank you," she smiled, then paused and turned round, registering their stunned gazes without them knowing from behind her sunglasses. "Oh sweetie," she sighed, "next time remember the straw, won't you?" She spun on her heel and continued walking, handing the slushie to a random kid with a Jewfro who looked like he could do with a break. And was staring in such a way she wondered if he'd been dropped on his head.
Puck watched the retreating backs of the triplets, his hand still clutching empty air.
"I think I'm in love," he said.
"Me too," Kurt sighed. "She's my hero." The sound of his voice brought Puck back from thoughts of the girl. He shoved Kurt into the lockers.
"You ain't off the hook yet," he growled, before stomping off.
Elle could see the principal's office ahead of her, and hear the hushed whispers behind; she couldn't help but smile. The "new school" drama was something she could handle. She had seen all the jocks and the cheerleaders and the freaks and the geeks from behind her reflective sunglasses. American schools were just the same as British schools – and they didn't scare her.
She pushed open the glass door, glanced at the nameplate on the desk, and pulled off her sunglasses as she said:
"Principal Figgins, is it? We're the Harwood's."
Principal Figgins, a squat Indian man with a poorly disguised balding patch blinked at the triplets for a moment before clearing his throat.
"Yes. Yes. Welcome to McKinley. Miss Pillsbury the guidance counsellor has your class schedules and will help you to arrange your extracurricular activities."
Elle raised an eyebrow. "Extra curricular activities? Principal Figgins, you might not know us yet, but you soon will." She leant forward onto the desk and Figgins leant back in his chair. "We don't do extracurricular activities. Now," she stood upright again, "where's Miss Pillsburg?"
Miss Pillsbury's office was just down the hall, and the triplets didn't bother knocking before entering. A tiny, elfin woman was sat behind a desk, hands clasped nervously in front of her.
"Hello," she said in a questioning voice. The triplets stood before her, with sunglasses on. And from her position she could see the boy was wearing a real Armani leather jacket. The girl stood in the middle spoke.
"Miss Pillsman?"
"Uh, Pillsbury."
"Whatever. We're the Harwood's. We were told to come here to get our class schedules."
"Ah, yes, of course. Please, please sit down." The new students from England. Emma Pillsbury knew them now. There was a moment's hesitation before the three sat down, the girl in the middle folding her arms and the boy slouching and apparently staring out the window, though she couldn't see the direction his eyes were looking. The second bell for classes rang, but none of them even flinched or acknowledged it. She reached into her desk drawer and pulled out three files with the Harwood's names on.
"Now," Emma said, gingerly opening the first of the three files, labelled ERIN. "I understand you've transferred from… from England?"
"Yep," responded the girl who hadn't spoken yet. She was that much smaller than her sister, with identical brunette hair, tied in a plait that hung over one shoulder. She had a set to her mouth that said she was determined and stroppy.
"Your mother moved here with a new partner, is that right?"
"Can we just have our schedules and be out of here?" the lad asked, swinging his head back to face her with a lazy arc. His voice was like biting down on dark chocolate, and his lips were a tight Cupid's bow of pink. His foppish brown hair fell over his forehead in a loose curl – he looked like a British James Dean.
"Now, now, wait a minute," Emma said, looking down and straightening the papers in the file. She had never felt as intimidated by students as she was right now. "I just… I just want to make sure that you guys are okay with this new school. I know you've just arrived, but starting somewhere new can be scary and being so far from home –"
"We're used to it," the middle girl snapped. Her brunette hair was loose over her shoulders, and her relaxed posture seemed forced. Emma wished she could see their eyes. It made things a lot easier.
"Okay. Well. Erin?" She handed out their schedules. "Very quickly, I wanted to discuss your extracurricular activities –"
Again, Elle cut her off. "As I said to Principal Figgins, we don't do extracurricular activities." They rose, leaving Emma stuttering and blustering behind them.