Hi there~! I'm back! So, um. This is kind of just an idea that I wanted to check out. They seem kind of OOC. Oh yeah, I've also become a ridiculous AU fan, so most of my Wemma fics will be AU. Tell me if I should continue?
~x~
She hated her life so much. So much because of her little brother that got every bit of attention that their parents could spare.
She knew she could be so much more than the girl who had overprotective parents who were too busy to have a decent conversation with her.
She was okay, as long as she could stay in her room and write and sing and play the piano.
But of course, she couldn't sit in her room forever. She had to face the sick, cruel world.
It wasn't that she was goth or in despair or whatever. She dressed normally and did well in school, but she just didn't talk to people. She didn't like people, because people meant trouble.
Trouble meant heartbreak and pain, so she just didn't mess with people.
Until finally, her mother came into her room on that fateful day.
"Emma, sweetie, why was this in the trash?" her mom asked, holding a crumpled orange paper in her hand.
Emma rolled her eyes.
Her mother straightened the paper out so it's message could be clearly read:
Rockford High's Under the Stars Prom
$80 Single; $120 Couple
Wednesday, April 17, 2013; 6p-12a
"Em, don't you want to go to prom?" her mother asked.
Emma sighed.
"Mom, I just don't want to go, okay?" she said, getting up to go to her piano.
"No, Emma! It's not okay, anymore. I bought couple tickets already. You do well enough in school, but you never bring any friends home!"
"I don't /have/ friends, Mom. I'm just not the kind of person who has friends."
"I just wish you would try harder," her mother sighed.
Emma plugged her headphones into her piano and started to play, no longer listening to her mother.
"That's it," her mother sighed. "I'm calling the school."
~x~
The next day in AP Music Theory, a call was made and Emma got pulled out of class.
She walked to the Guidance Counselor's office, where waiting for her was a not-too-bad-looking boy her age with curly hair and the old, crusty guidance counselor.
"Mrs. Jameson, you pulled me out of Theory?" Emma asked, entering the office.
"Yes, your mother called me with a concern. But that's beside the point. This is Will Schuester."
"Schuester...what is that, German?" Emma asked.
"Yeah, it is."
"Miss Pillsbury, Mr. Schuester is just another boy. However, he has volunteered to be a peer counselor."
"Peer counseling?" she asked skeptically. "No one else does peer counseling. There's nothing in the books about peer counseling."
"Well Mr. Schuester wants to be your peer counselor, and you will let him be."
Emma rolled her eyes.
"When do these sessions take place then, hm?" Emma asked.
"I can answer that," Will offered. "The diner, across the road. Right after school and whenever you need it."
"Can't I do this over the phone, or whatever?" Emma begged.
"No, you can't, Miss Pillsbury. Will just wants to help, and I think you'd find it beneficial to you to just let him."
"Okay, fine."
"Great, so your first session is today."
Emma's eyes widened.
"What? No, we can't do it today. I have plans," she pleaded.
"Plans?" Will asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I mean, the plans consist of writing a new song, but-"
Will smiled, nodding and picking up his coat.
"Fantastic, then I'll see you later."
Emma stared after the stranger and shook her head.
"I cannot believe my mother is doing this to me," she muttered, getting a pass to get back to her favorite class.
~x~
She walked to the diner right after school and saw Will sitting at the booth furthest from the door.
Who was this kid anyway, and why did he have to peer counsel her? She hated being his charity case.
She quickly ordered a milkshake and a large fries, and then made her way to Will's booth.
"Hi, Emma. How are you?" he asked, gesturing for her to sit down.
"I'm fine, and you?" she asked as her fries arrived.
"Good. Do you have any questions for me before we begin?" Will asked.
"Yeah. How long have you been here?"
"A couple of hours."
Emma squinted.
"Oh, you're doing this to get out of class. I see. Clever," she praised, sipping her milkshake.
Will shook his head.
"No, I actually need it for community service," he explained.
"What? What juvenile delinquent center allows peer counseling as community service?"
Will chuckled.
"Juvi? Really?"
"What?" Emma defended.
"Do I look like a Juvi kid to you?" he asked.
"No, it's just...why would you voluntarily talk to me?"
Will's eyebrows crinkled.
"Why not?"
Emma bit her lip.
"People don't talk to you?" Will wondered.
She shook her head.
"Why not?"
"I don't like people. I don't talk to people," she sighed. "I don't let people in."
"You seem to be letting me in," Will said.
"That's what you think."
Will ate some of Emma's fries and they talked some more about their families, or rather, their lack of.
Will was an orphan, living on his own because he had just turned eighteen and his uncle was assistant to the governor and supplied him an allowance.
Emma explained nothing more than the fact that she had parents, but sometimes it felt like she didn't, and a little brother who made her that way. Music was her family.
"You're a singer?" he asked.
"Singer, songwriter, guitar, piano, clarinet, saxophone, violin player."
Will nodded, impressed.
His phone rang and he sighed.
"I have to go to class," he muttered.
"What? School's over for today!"
"Yeah, I have this...other thing. Tomorrow, okay?" he asked, scribbling something on a napkin. "Here's my number. You can text me after five. I'll see you tomorrow."
~x~
"Em, how was-" her mother who'd just got home from work began, stopping as she noticed that Emma was texting. "Who is that?"
Emma shrugged.
"You're texting! Who?" her mom asked, peeking.
"Mom! Stop!" she said, pulling her phone away. "It's no one!"
Her phone beeped and she looked at what the screen said.
Will (4:35)
I think you're great.
"Who's Will?"
"Ugh, Mom!" she cried, running up to her room.
"C'mon, Freaky Deaky, who's Will?" she heard her mom say.
Emma sighed.
Maybe some other day.
