Never trust the weatherman.
That was what Puck quickly learned in his first few years of dressing himself. Sure, the television station would say there would be a sunny day with no clouds in sight and a high of 87 degrees. But did that ever happen? No. Never trust the weatherman with his goddamn creepy mustache and over-jolly looking cheeks. It had to be makeup… but anyway, staying on track: never trust the weatherman. That was why Noah Puckerman had chosen jeans, a t-shirt, and his letterman jacket draped over one arm instead of the typical shorts and tank tops everyone else was choosing based on that dolt's forecast.
He wasn't regretting it right now, either. A pep assembly was being held outside, in the chilly 48 degree weather. With wind. Everyone else was huddled together in groups on the silver bleachers, freezing their asses off while he had his sturdy letterman jacket zipped up. Haha. That was what they deserved – if they hadn't learned that seven times out of ten the weatherman was incorrect, they were going to get used to either freezing their asses off in their miniskirts or melting their face off in turtlenecks.
The cheerleaders looked freezing down on the field as they shifted from sneakered foot to sneakered foot and for the first time in his life, he was glad that he wasn't near them. Coach had decided the football team didn't need to make an appearance on the field, so Puck was able to stay up in the bleachers where the wind could fruitlessly rip at his jacket while his iPod happily blared in his ears.
He hadn't even noticed that Rachel Berry was sitting near him until he felt a poke on his shoulder and turned to see her mouthing something at him. Oh, no, wait, she was talking. He just couldn't hear her because of the music. He pulled an ear bud out of his ear. "What?"
She looked apologetic and vulnerable, with her arms crossed tightly over her chest. "Can I borrow your jacket?" she questioned, making an 'I'm sorry' face at him. Oh. It would figure that she wanted to borrow his jacket. She was wearing a skirt, after all, with one of her weird sweater vest things. Couldn't be very warm.
Puck looked down at his jacket, plucking the collar while he spoke to her. "I'm wearing it," Rachel looked like she needed a translation, so he continued. "That's a no."
That was that. Rachel turned away and Puck went back to his music. Except, well, he could still see her out of the corner of his eye. She was all hunched up, her fingers rubbing her forearms as she tried to get warm.
Finally, Puck surrendered. He unzipped his jacket, pulling it off and thrusting it over at her. "Take it," he said, keeping his eyes carefully on the cheerleaders down on the field.
"Are you sure?" Rachel asked, looking surprised. She was sliding her arms through the jacket, though, appreciating the warmness. God, she looked oddly small in his jacket. It dwarfed her, the bottom of the jacket skimming the tops of her thighs and the sleeves hiding her hands completely.
"No," Puck said, shaking his head as he turned his music back up. Though Rachel managed a quiet 'thank you,' he didn't hear it.
This of course takes place before the "Mash Up" episode. Which I adored, even though it was brief and sweet. But anyway, pretend it never happened. Or has yet to happen. Whichever makes more sense. So this is actually based on a true story. Where I live we've been having insane weather days – it was 50 degrees or so for the first three days of last week and then 80 by Friday. Tomorrow? Expecting snow.