A/N: Another Glee character study. I've been working on this for awhile and I really love Puck's mind so it's much longer than my Rachel and Kurt ones. Puck isn't my favorite character (Kurt. Oh Kurt) however, his mind is amazing. I love him. He's up in my favorite characters. He's probably after Kurt. : P

But enjoy.

PS: Everything in this story is from Puck's POV. If you find anything offensive, I'm sorry. It's Puck so I'm going to keep it close to the character. It's not my actual thoughts or feelings, kay?


School Is For Suckers

School is for suckers. Who needs it when you turn, like, 16? After 8th grade, you don't learn anything new. Besides, you can get a job singing and stuff and if you get to the top, you don't need to go to college or whatever. But I guess school is mandatory or something. Mom won't let me drop out and since Quinn is pregnant, I have to graduate and go to college so I can support my "mistake". I should've used a condom at least. I wasn't paying attention during sex ed or something, but I had never gotten a girl pregnant before so I thought maybe I was one of those dudes that couldn't. Don't matter to me, anyways if I couldn't. I mean, I love my baby girl and stuff, but I could have sex ALL the time without getting a girl pregnant. Less worry and stuff. Well, anyways, that baby is gonna come out sooner or later, but Quinn won't have anything to do with me. Neither will Finn. I guess I deserve that. Whatever. There are plenty of girls in this world worthy of me. That Rachel chick? Yeah, she hot…and talented. She loves Finn though. Damn! Finn gets all the sympathy, all the love and shit. Even that faggot Kurt loves the guy. Not saying I want a fag to like me or anything, but why Finn? I'm a stud. Like, 100% pure sex. Lonely moms love to hook up with this hombre.

Still. I really just hate the world right now. Thinkin' about quitting Glee, but I want to be with Quinn, so I can't move. Besides, football season is over. What's there to do now? Basketball? Nah. No one here really likes the sport. That's like…big in Kentucky or something. McKinley is all football and now that it's over, I really got no escape. Sucks too because I'm good at it. They never would've won if I would've scored that touch-down on that game we one. I guess that fag helped a little…by a point. Who cares? He quit anyways! I heard he just was in it so he had a beard or something. To hide the fact that he was gay from his father. How did his father not know? Look at the way he dresses! Like a runway model on acid. It's hideous. A full-plaid outfit, what are you kidding me? I feel gay just typing about him.

That Rachel girl is talented and sexy. I could do her all night if I wasn't so set on not using condoms. Since she isn't getting any, she's not on birth control, plus she is still totally in love with Finn. Like I said, Finn is just the BEST isn't he?! I guess if she saw my abs, she'd think differently. Much hotter than Finn's. I should know. I've seen his and in comparison, it's like a 5 next to a 20. Me being the 20, of course. I talked with Rachel today. Used my charm. She told me that I'm "mentally too immature for even a monkey to date". I'm not so sure what that means, but she said it in like a "piss-off" kind of tone, so I guess she was basically calling me and idiot or something. Just because I don't have the vocabulary of freaking Bill Gates (or someother big-shot nerd) doesn't mean I'm an idiot.

Is summer here yet? Shit. I just checked the calendar and it's just March. Damn damn damn!! Hurry up! I am ready for pool-cleaning and hot moms.

School needs to start at like...12 because waking up every morning at 7:30 isn't something I particularly enjoy. At least I don't have to brush my hair or whatever like girls and stuff because I would probably go insane. My hair always looks good. I'm like the only guy on this planet that can rock a mohawk without looking like a total douchebag. Hey, I didn't say I wasn't one, only that I don't look like one.

I hopped into my beat-up Ford pick-up because that's all I could afford after the few jobs I had. The engine didn't want to turn over until the third time I turned the key. Damn truck. Fixing it would be a waste of money because this thing had more issues than Amy Winehouse. It would cost like, another car.

Driving to school was an okay thing, though. At least it gave me time to be alone before I was forced into that place. I'm outgoing and stuff, but I like my privacy sometimes. I'm deep. I think about...things. Like how the world would be a better place if all women were barren. This Quinn thing? Getting out of hand. I need to win the freaking lottery to pay for her check-ups and shit. At least I'll have a totally beautiful little kid when she pops (Don't tell anyone I just said the word beautiful, I will kick your ass). Too bad it's not a dude. I could give him the 101 of being a stud.

I walked into the high school where a flood of kids came in after me. There were tons already at their lockers, in the hallways, and smoking in the bathroom before 1st period. I went to my locker and pulled out that dumb Spanish book. I can't read that thing. I don't know what the point is of having Spanish class when you can really only learn another language when you're like...a kid or something. I like English. What's wrong with everyone learning English? It's one universal language and it's like....so easy. Spanish on the other hand is like....so hard.

Boredom likes to creep up on me during Mr. Schue's class. I like the guy and all, but he assigns WAY too much homework and he's hard. Like, my dick when I see Pamela Anderson hard. I like to draw on my notebook. I have one where I'm playing the guitar to Santana and she's like...totally naked. Can't let Quinn see that one.

"Can anyone tell me the difference between the nosotros form of the verb escuchar and the yo form? Puck! You've been uncharacteristically quiet today. Mind telling me the difference?"

Damn why me?

"Uh....the yo form has like....an 'o' at the end?"

"Well, that's correct. The yo form of most all regular verbs end with 'o'. The nosotros form, however..."

I tuned him out after that. So what? Who cares? I noticed a few of the students taking notes. Rachel was taking notes over in the corner of the room, smiling as she wrote down the stuff Mr. Schue was writing on the board. How was that girl always so peppy and chipper? I wander to punch her in the mouth so her mouth would be swollen and she would look like a chipmunk afterwards. It was a MONDAY. WHO SMILES ON A MONDAY? I rolled my eyes and continued my doodling till the bell rang.

Lunch came fast. I picked a table alone because that's what you do when you're a Glee-club loser. Though the Gleeks (somebody made it up. Props to them) were all sitting together, I didn't care. They could laugh and chat about pointless shit like Broadway or Disney. Even Finn was over there. I wondered where Quinn was. Then again, she was probably in class because I doubted she had middle lunch.

"May I sit here?"

I looked up at Rachel Berry holding a tray looking helpless. Where was that God-awful smile she had plastered on her face earlier? Her hair was tied up and wet, so she had obviously been slushied. Her clothes were different too. Guess that's what happens when you've been slushied like...every day for the past two or so years, you learn to pack new clothes.

"Why do you want to?"

"Because I don't want to sit alone. They would rather me not sit with them and besides, the table is full."

She turned towards the Glee club and I just scoffed. Who cared what they thought? She turned back and looked all sad and stuff, I couldn't really say no. I kinda....felt bad for her but only because I kinda felt bad for myself just then.

"Whatever. Sit."

She sat, but before her butt planted onto the seat, she smoothed out her skirt with her hands. God she was so prim and proper.

"I notice you sit alone a lot."

"Why would you care?"

"Well, for one thing I sit alone....a lot."

I rolled my eyes. Here comes the "I-have-no-friends-cause-I-have-a-terrible-personality" rant. Along with water works. Seriously? Getting old.

"Yeah. Okay."

"So...I feel a little bad for you, I guess."

"I don't need your sympathy!" Seriously? Why would you? I can take care of myself! Who does she think she is? I thought she was this cold-hearted little witch who was lying and deceitful, but I guess she has feelings. But why direct them to me, a person who doesn't care in the least.

"Right, of course.... sorry."

"Whatever...." I bit into the piece of limp, cold chicken that lay on my plate. I ripped it apart with my teeth then threw back down on the plate. She gasped a little at my display of anger. What was so scary about ripping a piece of chicken? Well, I mean I was pissed. Noah Puckerman can freaking take care of himself.

I was really happy when lunch was over. Sitting at the table with the "fabulous Rachel Berry" kinda made me a little nauseous. Or maybe it was that gross mystery meat surprise I was picking at. I mean, don't get me wrong, Rachel is super hot, but she's a total bitch. The only reason why she told Finn that Quinn's baby was my baby is because she wanted Finn for herself. Yeah, that worked out fabulously. Now she sits with me. The stud who became a dud. I'm still a stud, but everyone at William McKinley think I'm gay 'cause I'm in Glee. Glee is pretty cool most of the time. I like singing because I'm awesome at it. I'm musical. One day people at this crap-hole of a school will have my songs on their "25 Most Played" playlist on their iPods.

Now I was regretting thinking that I was happy that lunch was over. I had stupid Algebra next. It was the remedial class, but still hard as hell. Math is like....useless. I'm gonna become something that doesn't need math. Maybe a....male model or something. I'm suited for that. This six pack needs to be on the cover of a magazine or something.

I entered the classroom and automatically laid my head down and closed my eyes. Soon I was being woken by some annoying dude next to me.

"Noah Puckerman, wake up."

I recognized the voice way too well. Yeah, it was the math teacher Mr. Millins, James Millin's father. (Millin's on the football team. He's a loser, but don't tell him that. He'll punch you in the face and it hurts like hell.)

"Sorry. Not enough sleep."

"Sleep again in my class and you'll be kept after school."

I rolled my eyes and nodded, turning in my book to the page we were on. I looked around, everyone was shifting away pretending they weren't all looking in my direction when Mr. Mill came over there to "embarrass" me. Yeah right. Like I could get embarrassed. Hello! I'm Noah Puckerman. I don't do that. I wasn't even embarrassed when we danced to that lame-ass Beyonce song the fag taught us. It helped us win, I guess, which was cool. But why Beyonce? Why not something manly like the Soulja Boy dance? I dance to that all the time when the song comes on. Makes me feel bad-assed, which I know I already am. I just like feeling like that more.

So school ended. I drove home and did my normal routine. I decided I would text Santana when I plopped on the couch. She told me she was with Brittany and that she would call me later. I wondered what those two were doing. They were always a good time. But I really wanted to see Quinn. I didn't want to leave the house since I just got home, so I called her. We talked a little bit. I never really felt this way before. I don't guess I love her as much as I love that baby in her. Quinn is part of the prize, but I love that little girl, like, more than I love my little sister. Totally sad, right? Doesn't matter anyways. My little sister couldn't care less. She's too busy hanging around with her weird little friends to give a damn about what I think about her. I love that baby.

"Hey, babe, just wanted to say... I love you."

There was a pause on the other line after I said that. I don't really say that to girls, but I mean I do love her (the baby I love even more). I really do. Swear. I just like texting Santana. She's hot.

"Thanks, Puck. Goodnight."

She hung up and I sighed. Yeah. She wasn't going to say that back. Oh well.

Guess I really do have to go to school. I have to get money for my kid. I'm not going to be a dead beat like my dad. I have to..... be.... uh.... diligent? Yeah. Diligent.

I guess...school isn't for suckers....