Hello everyone! This is my first ever Glee fic and, of course, it's Puckleberry 3 I do hope you enjoy it because I've enjoyed writing it. Hmm, let's see, anything else.... Well, there will be mentions of Quinn/Puck and Puck/Santana and unrequited Rachel/Finn, so prepare yourselves for that. Also, this takes place after Sectionals, so SPOILER ALERT! Do enjoy your read and review, please :3
Disclaimer: If it were mine, wouldn't I be licking someone's slushie instead of writing about him? So. Not mine.
Noah Puckerman, I have just decided, is an abominable young man.
How I came to that conclusion was that every single day, it seemed, we came across each other, in the most ridiculous occasions. And by that I didn't mean those days when he would make me taste his grape slushies, but the days that actually mattered. The right now days. Of course I disliked him now. I hadn't before, not even in the old days, but now I couldn't bring myself not to absolutely dread him. So maybe it wasn't purposeful, maybe it was only incidental and he happened to be around whenever I dutifully eyed up Finn Hudson. It wasn't exactly a duty as much as a pleasure, though the fact that I did it on a regular basis made it a duty. Anyway, what I meant was that Noah was a jerk.
Reason number one: he was always, without exception, hovering over Finn, which made it hard for me to get closer to Finn because they would both be talking about things that I wasn't comfortable discussing. Like girls. And sex. And – ew – football tactics.
Reason number two: well, I didn't have a number two just yet, but that didn't make my point any less... pungent. Yes, pungent. So my number two would be having to waste perfectly good rehearsing time with finding a number two. Which, consequently led me to a number three, that would be spending more time with him. So, basically, what I meant to say was that he was a jerk. And that's all. There's nothing more to it.
It wouldn't be so bad if they all didn't need Glee so much but, unfortunately, all of them, myself included, do. Then, we wouldn't be together all the time and I wouldn't have to have his stupidity thrown at me every single day. Ever since Sectionals that every free period is spent in the Auditorium together, just hanging out and jamming some songs because that's what we do. As a team. A team that would be better off if that jerk just left. I huff. Nobody notices because they're still trying to find out which song to sing – practice it for Regionals. I curl a strand of hair around my finger because I don't want to give them my suggestion just yet: I'm a better Rachel. My eyes shift from the jerk to Finn because that's how it's supposed to be and my stomach does a flip when he smiles back.
"Okay everyone, this is clearly not going anywhere. I'm sorry to say this, but when it comes to picking songs, you kind of suck. I suggest "I Heard Love Is Blind" by Amy Winehouse," And of course, I pause for contestation. I know that it's automatic: good as my opinions might be, I'm still Rachel Berry. Finn's smile is still filling my eyes but all that I can think of is that knowing smirk on Noah's lips that has me pressing my lips together and only barely notice that everyone agrees. It doesn't take much to get me pissed, true, but, on the bright side, it doesn't take much to make me happy.
Finn smiles again. "Come on, I'm walking you to class," And it hurts that there's nothing in his eyes, just Finn. Of course he would walk me home, but that's because he's him and doesn't think that it might fuel my undying passion for him. He just grabs my bag and walks with me and I intently listen to whatever he has to say, hoping that, finally, "That was a great song you chose. I can't wait to see what we can do with it," It takes me a second to realise that 'we' means the Club, and not the both of us and I can't help but frown. And then wince.
"Hey, BERRY!" I know that voice. And I know Noah is smirking as he calls me and I know for a fact his smirk is dangerous. Finn and I both come to a halt and turn around: I allow myself to note that the look on the tall quarterback's face is merely casual, maybe a bit cautions, what with all that happened, while I know that mine is merely shocked. Maybe disgusted. Definitely annoyed. "You left this in the Auditorium," And then I know he'd planned this all along. Noah reaches into his pocket and takes out a pair of lacy, pink panties that did not belong to me. My cheeks are flushed and Finn is chuckling and that stupid smirk is still on Puck's lips.
Times like these are what define whether or not someone's a lady. I took a deep breath through my nose, lips pressed together in a thin line for the second time this morning and I try to find a good way to leave without losing all of my dignity, most of it is already shattered to tiny, star-bright pieces by Noah Puckerman's squeaky shoes. With a nod towards Finn, as a good-bye, I turn on my heel, hair hopefully slapping against the jerk's face, and stomp down the hallway.
And so, clearly, the stupid cave man will be her demise: to think about what Finn will think. Instead of heading to Calculus, I hide in the bathroom and I sit down where no one can see me so I can cry.
I knew that he had meant it when he said we weren't friends before and I knew that there was a slight chance that me breaking up with him would hurt him, but he was Noah, for crying out loud. He never cared about me: that was one of the main reasons why I broke up with him in the first place. That and Finn, of course. I can't forget Finn. What I don't understand is why only with Puck do I seem to have gone back to the old days: he's more of a jerk than he'd ever been before and things like these happen all the time. I sigh and fix my eyes. Rachel Berry is better than all of this.
It's not even Second Term, Rachel, and you're already crying in the bathroom, snap out of it. There. Besides, it's fine, this even served to make me decide that Noah Puckerman is an abominable young man.