A/N: My first Glee fanfic!! Oh I'm excited!! Well, here goes nothing!
Disclaimer! I do not own Glee. If I did, Rachel and Puck would end up together, and well, I'd be rich. (:
There she is. A freshman girl, one you've never seen before. She has a small, girlish frame. Her hair is lighter than yours, like the color of dark oak. It's not as long as yours, but it's long. Her skin is pale, adding to her vulnerable look. She wears a light orange sweatshirt from one of those brand names that you never paid attention to. She wears faded navy jeans. Her shoes are ratty dark blue converse that you would never be caught dead in.
You have no connection with this girl.
This girl, the freshman girl, is getting slushied.
The contents of the paper cup fly across the sweaty, high school air that you are ashamed to be breathing. These contents are a bright green, a color you will never experience in nature. You do not know the exact flavor of this slushy. It could be lime, maybe sour apple.
You wince as the icy green liquid hits the girl, dead on. She shuts her hazel eyes on contact. The slushy covers her upper half, staining everything in its path. You turn and look away and gaze into your locker. But you can't for too long. This girl compels you.
The meat head hockey players laugh and high five one another.
Those barbarians, You yell inwardly. No one deserves this.
Your heart twinges. She's just a freshman. And from the looks of her, she's a new freshman. New to the horrible ghost town you call Lima. You've been in her place before, but you weren't a tiny freshman like her.
You watch to see the girl's reaction.
She sneezes.
Of all things, she sneezes.
It's a small, quick little sneeze. She doesn't even need to cover her nose.
She whimpers a little as the jocks laugh and snort. They push her to the side and walk off. It's the end of the day, and you've got to get to glee rehearsal. But you can't just leave her there, freezing and wet.
So you shut your locker. You make the long trek across the tiled corridor.
When you step in front of her, she looks up at you. She looks beaten, worn out, like a puppy. She lowers her head and wipes the slushy from her eyes. Upon looking at her now soiled clothing, the girl makes a soft, miniscule cry.
You grab her hand and pull her gently towards the choir room.
And suddenly, you have a connection.
A/N: Well if you're wondering who's the one that rescues the young girl, you'll just have to wait!! I'm sure some of you have already figured it out. Please R and R! It'll keep me going and hopefully give me some inspiration!