Basic Disclaimers:
1. I don't own Glee.
2. I don't own "American Woman" by The Guess Who.
3. This is my first foray into Glee fiction. I'm still getting a feel for the characters so excuse me, please, if they're a bit off.
4. This is the first time in a long time that I've written any kind of fanfiction at all. Wish me luck.
Warnings: Youth, innocence and lots of glossing over important things.
This Is Not Forever, Just Always
I don't wanna see your face no more / I got more important things to do / Than spend my time growin' old with you
The first time Puck asked Rachel out, it was the summer before they started high school.
It began with him getting his first official (paystubs and everything) summer job. He worked at the JCC as a junior lifeguard—well, the junior lifeguard, actually, because they only needed one. It wasn't a bad job; he didn't even really have to do much. For the most part, it meant getting paid to hang around the JCC's awesome pool with some of his almost-friends. (He had known Jacob Ben-Israel all his life but the guy was still a total creeper.)
Lima's Jewish kids were never really close to each other; there were very few of them to begin with and then they almost all went to different schools. A total of about twelve teens and tweens frequented the pool. Six of them were at varying levels of high school: the senior lifeguard had just graduated from the private academy a couple of miles out of town, the Katz twin girls had just finished their junior year at McKinley, and the other three were a couple (like, legit dating and parent-pleasing) of Carmel sophomores and the guy's freshman brother. Puck and Jacob were the only two transitioning between middle and high school. The other kids were from West Lima Middle. The group got on well enough but Puck only really talked with the senior lifeguard, Zach, who had always treated him a bit like a little brother.
Then, one day, she just appeared.
Puck stopped mid-sentence because she was wearing the tiniest white skirt he had ever seen and her legs went on forever. He stared, slack-jawed, as she settled her stuff on a free deckchair and reached for the hem of her t-shirt. Zach whacked him in the shoulder just as she started to pull it upward.
Zach's smirk was smug and knowing. "Close your mouth, Puckerman. You're drooling."
Puck scowled but still swiped the back of his hand across his face. "Shut up."
Zach stayed silent and leaned back to survey the new girl with vague interest. Puck turned back around and found he had been spared having to watch her strip. Not that it helped any because she was down to a sunshine yellow one-piece with some interestingly positioned ribbons and slits. As he watched her chat with the Katz twins, Puck realized she was actually really short but the whole petite thing? Totally did it for him. And the top half of the package wasn't lacking either. She wasn't Pamela Anderson but there was something to be said for proportion. He had just started thinking about his introduction when Zach piped up behind him.
"Hey, Rachel!"
The new girl spun around and beamed at Zach. Puck was startled by the reaction. The unexpected prettiness of the smile was also surprising. Puck had spotted the very Jewish nose even before the legs and had been prepared to deal with an average face for the smokin' bod. Apparently that wouldn't be the case at all.
"Zach! I didn't know you would be here. Have you always worked here? I thought you would have left for Eastman by now. When are you leaving for college? Are you in town much longer?"
She impressed Puck with the sheer number of words she'd managed in a single breath. Zach, on the other hand, didn't seem surprised by her amazing capacity for speech. Puck eyed the senior lifeguard wondering how these two knew each other. She was a little young for Zach, wasn't she? She must be in, like, seventh grade or something. It then occurred to Puck, oh my god, what if she was still in middle school? Or was some seriously developed elementary school kid? Then he figured Zach would've said something if he was perving on a kid so she must be around Puck's age. Please God.
"Slow down, Rach," Zach smiled at her the way he sometimes smiled at Puck when he thought Puck was being 'young'. "I'm working here for most of the summer. I don't leave 'til August. What're you doing here?"
She looked a little annoyed at the question. "Dance classes have closed for summer. Well, actually, my dance instructor told my dads that she didn't want to see me over the holidays. She thinks I need to take break. My vocal coach said the same thing. They said I should take time and prepare for high school." Puck literally heard the quotation marks—and, they were the same age; thank you, God! She continued, "I'm prepared for high school, Zach. I need them to help me prepare for the rest of my life! I'm never going to make it to Broadway if all my tutors and mentors are this lackadaisical! And, as if that wasn't bad enough, my piano's all out of tune!"
"There's a piano upstairs."
Both turned to look at him and that's when Puck realized he had spoken out loud. Puck shifted his weight indifferently as Rachel simply blinked at him. Zach looked between the two then said, "Puck, this is Rachel Berry. She goes to the academy with me. Rachel, this is Noah Puckerman, our junior lifeguard."
They've met before, of course. It doesn't matter. This was where they met.
Rachel stuck out her hand toward him. He looked from it to her face. She was smiling a megawatt smile (different from the smile she gave Zach, less genuine). She said, "Hi, I'm Rachel Berry."
Puck had manners and he knew an opportunity when he saw one so he shook her hand. He fixed his best smirk on his face. "Hi. You can call me Puck."
He didn't expect her to ask, "Why?"
Lacking an answer, he just shrugged. The action made him aware of the fact that they were still touching so he loosened his grip on her hand and they fell apart inelegantly.
She brushed imaginary dust off her leg and mumbled, "Nice to meet you, Noah."
Then things were just plain awkward. This was not the way Puck had envisioned this all playing out. He mentally cursed Zach for jumping the gun and forcing him into a conversation with this girl before he had anything planned. Seriously, he had just been planning to put actual effort into this and now everything was rolling downhill very quickly. The silence stretched out, Puck had just reached the most fervent part of his mental cursing, and Rachel had just started chewing on her bottom lip (Puck stopped cursing to notice the lips—then promptly started again, more viciously, because Zach had ruined something that clearly would have been amazing) when Zach spoke again.
"Puck is right, Rachel, there is a piano upstairs. In fact, I think we've got a little bit of an unofficial music room going on up there," he gestured generally in the direction of the building's upper windows, "I've used their drums once or twice myself and the instruments are quality. There aren't any mics or a stage but the acoustics are pretty good. If you want, if you can hang around, I'll come up and jam with you after we close up here."
And she was beaming again. Puck was beginning to feel like a sign post just standing there while they talked so he turned on his heel and was about to walk over to some of the guys by the water fountain when Zach called out, "You'll come too, right, Puck?"
Puck turned back and glanced at Rachel. Don't look desperate. He shrugged. "If you guys want me to."
"Sure you should," Zach replied. Then he turned to Rachel and explained in a secretive tone, "Puck plays guitar. He's really good at it."
Rachel looked at Puck with a new sort of interest. Finally, she said, "If you say so, Zach, I trust your judgement."
That afternoon, the three of them found the music room and played until Rachel's dads (Puck knew there was a catch; two fathers) picked her up. Zach and Puck left together after double checking the pool area. The ride to Puck's house (Zach had promised Mrs. Puckerman he would make sure her son got home safe everyday), was mostly silent as the younger boy sat stunned by the girl's voice. He hadn't expected so much voice from so little girl. When she had sung with Zach—songs they were obviously practiced at—Puck had been amazed by the both of them. He could sing but not like them.
Finally, he asked the question burning in his brain all afternoon: "So how come you and Rachel know each other so well? I get that you guys go to the same school and all but she's my age. Isn't it, like, weird for you guys to hang out?"
"She's in Glee," Zach said like that explained everything. When Puck asked what the hell that even meant, Zach laughed.
He explained the academy's music program, show choir, and the way the middle school and high school Glee clubs met twice a month to practice and perform. Puck looked totally unimpressed by the idea of show choir; here he thought Zach was cool. Zach just shrugged it off; accustomed, it seemed, to being looked at as a Gleek. He let Puck know he wasn't just in show choir, he was the lead. And, as the lead, he'd gotten himself a full ride to the Eastman School of Music in New York. Puck had never heard of it (had never really thought about college except to know that his mother insisted he go to one) so Zach's announcement doesn't have quite the desired effect.
"When you're buying my album, Puckerman, you'll regret this conversation," Zach joked.
The jam sessions with Zach and Rachel became a staple over the next few weeks. They spent so much extra time hanging around together that Zach eventually became responsible for getting both younger teens home. As the rabbi's son and all-round upstanding guy, Zach had parents he didn't even know trusting him so they got to stay and play late into the afternoons. During this time, Puck discovered that Rachel was a talker. He could have sworn it was her job how much she did it. Her mouth never took a break. If it wasn't talking, it was singing, and while he sort of (really) liked the sound of her voice, sometimes it was just too much. Some days, Puck just wanted some quiet after his music. One day he told her so. It should have gone really, really badly. It hadn't.
On their way to Rachel's house, Zach stopped at the 7-11 for gas, snacks and slushies (also staples in their afternoon routine). Rachel and Puck had decided to wait in the truck because Zach knew what they preferred and the ten foot walk from the cool inside of the truck to the mart was entirely unappealing to both. Puck was sitting shotgun with his head back and eyes closed, half-listening to Rachel explain why she wasn't going to back to the academy for high school. She was weighing her options—McKinley or Carmel? Puck figured she would choose Carmel because it was obvious even to him that they were the better school. He didn't even know why she was considering McKinley. If it wasn't for the stupid zoning, Puck would choose to go to Carmel too. Their football team was actually worth something.
"How do you even have a choice?" Puck asked as he watched some guys that had pulled up in a Lexus SUV greet Zach in the store. "Isn't your school zone fixed? I'm stuck with McKinley, which blows because Carmel's football team is kickass."
Rachel, who was in the back leaning forward with her arms folded on top of the bench seat in front, turned her head to look at him. Her eyes were wide and curious and damn, she was pretty.
"You play football?" she asked. With how much Rachel talked about herself, Puck wasn't all that surprised to realize she didn't know much about him at all.
"Yeah, and basketball and baseball," he supplied. "I run track too."
There was an odd (but still so pretty) smile blooming on her face. "You're an athlete," she whispered.
It wasn't the first time (not by a long shot) that Puck had tried to impress a girl with sports but it was the first time one had ever sounded so genuinely impressed.
"And you swim." Puck hadn't even counted that. "And you play guitar and piano," Rachel added like those had anything to do with sports. "What else do you do, Noah?"
Puck shrugged, not quite sure how to react to the hint of awe and loads of approval in her voice. There was one more thing he did that he was secretly proud of but he really didn't want people knowing. Advanced Math was the epitome of nerd. He thought about telling her, considered that she might make fun of him for it, and then remembered that he was talking to a girl who saw Glee club as the pathway to fame and popularity. She was still waiting for him to answer her, and the silence was nice so he just shrugged it off.
"Not much. I'm pretty good at Math," he conceded finally. That was all she needed to know. According to his teacher, he could write the SATs tomorrow and score full marks in Math. He had all his high school Math credits already so he didn't even have to take any Math classes the next year if he didn't want to. He decided he would figure out how to use that to his advantage in high school later.
Rachel didn't say anything for a while after that but he could feel her eyes on the side of his face even with his eyes closed. He tried not to smirk because, hello, the girl was a goner now. They sat in the silence, the only sound in the truck that of their steady breathing. When he felt her shift, the last thing he expected was her to start chattering excitedly about his future and college scholarships. He tried to listen as he usually did but he couldn't. The unexpected quiet they had enjoyed just moments before was sorely missed. He had liked just listening to Rachel breathe. (In his head he understood exactly how freaky this sounded so it stayed firmly in his head.)
"Rachel," he started. She talked over him, something about Ivy League schools and how her Daddy used to play football in college so maybe he knew what school would be best for Noah to look at, so he tried again. She kept going and, ok, it irritated him a bit because he'd spent the past few weeks listening to her. The least she could do was acknowledge that he had even said something.
"Rachel!" he snapped. "Can you just shut up for a minute?"
Her teeth clicked how quickly she closed her mouth. It was harsh. He knew it even as he was saying the words. Instantly, Rachel turned her head away from him. Puck wasn't stupid; he had a little sister, he knew what came next. Instead of waiting for some sign that she was crying—God, what was wrong with him; a minute ago he had been in there—he started apologizing.
"Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean 'shut up' I just meant can we not talk for a while? I like the quiet." No response. "Shit. I'm sorry, ok? Talk if you want to."
Finally, she sniffed. He reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder—her skin was smoother than anything he had ever felt. "Rach?"
She turned toward him, eyes glassy but tears unshed. "I'm sorry, Noah, I know I can be...garrulous and abrasive. I just wanted to get to know you better."
"'S not your fault." He didn't move his hand off of her and his fingers started playing with the ends of her hair.
She smiled at him shakily then she started talking again. Puck couldn't help but roll his eyes and smile. "I understand that you like the silence, Noah, but there's nothing to do but think. I do quite enough of that when I'm alone at home so I like conversation. It's a dying art, you know."
She paused for dramatic effect or something, Puck wasn't sure. Nonetheless, it gave him an opening and he'd been after this for weeks. It was difficult trying to win a girl under the constant watch. Zach was Puck's best friend apart from Finn Hudson but his presence was more of a hindrance than his introduction was a help. This was the first time Puck and Rachel had been alone for more than five minutes. If Puck didn't make a move now, he wasn't worth his salt. He shifted closer to her and whispered, "There's other things to do in silence."
Her eyes looked huge when he was that close and he could smell her shampoo. Her voice was nervous but she didn't pull away. "Like what?" she asked.
Puck was certain she knew what he was going to do—Rachel was smart; innocent but not naive. He smirked at her, licked his lips, watched as she licked hers, then he leaned in.
"Like this," he breathed. Then he kissed her. (Softly, gently, sipping at her lips; keeping his tongue to himself—for the most part.)
She kissed him back. (Ineptly but passionately; she was going to have the full experience and Noah being her first just made it...amazing.)
Zach cleared his throat loudly. (He'd known this was coming from day one. Kids.)
They sprung apart. Puck wanted to throttle the significantly taller teen and Rachel looked like she was attempting to be an actual strawberry. Zach couldn't help but chuckle at their reactions. He handed out his goodies and pretended to ignore the uncomfortable air in the truck. Rachel literally sprinted from the vehicle when they got to her house. The boys had just settled in for the drive to Puck's place when Zach glanced over at Puck, whose expression was distinctly annoyed. There was no resisting the temptation to tease him.
"You know, Puckerman, next time you wanna make out with Rach, you could maybe warn me that you're gonna use the truck."
It took three days of them dancing around each other for Puck to realize that Rachel Berry might have let him kiss her in Zach's truck but that was all he was going to get to do without saying something. He figured he should have known she would want words and, for the first time since Puck had started kissing girls, he was going to make the effort. It wasn't that he didn't have other options—Puck always had other options—it was just that he only seemed to want Rachel. It was new and strange but he was badass enough to give it a go.
Because Zach's estimated date of departure was drawing nearer, Puck found it much easier to get Rachel alone. The older teen may or may not have been giving them some space to sort things out by being on his cell phone all the time, Puck wasn't going to ask. He waited until he heard Zach head down the corridor away from their music room before he put his guitar down and crossed the room. Rachel, of course, was entirely too engrossed in her sheet music to notice.
Puck walked over and dropped beside her onto the piano stool. He heard her suck in a breath but her eyes never moved from her papers. It occurred to him that she might not have been as distracted as he thought. He exhaled loudly and started, "So, about that kiss..."
Nothing but Rachel's eyes moved toward him. That was no good. He leaned in so she could feel him breathing against her skin, "Wanna do it again?"
This time, she turned her whole head to look at him and he grinned winningly. She rolled her eyes but he could see smile forming. Before she could say whatever it was she had been gearing up to say, he kissed her again. There was nothing shy or soft about this one. Puck knew how to kiss and he intended to kiss Rachel's luscious mouth for all he was worth.
According to the clock above the door, he spent a good eight minutes doing just that until, eventually, he pulled back. His mind had blanked for a little bit—too much Rachel and too little oxygen—but he finally remember there was something else he'd been planning to do today.
He quickly asked her, "You wanna catch a movie this weekend?"
Puck wasn't afraid of rejection but he was slightly terrified that she would see through his plot. Dark theatres, dark corners and no parental supervision meant endless possibilities.
She bit her lip, glanced away and then..."Sure."
See? No worries.
It ends two weeks before school starts.
She chooses McKinley over Carmel and wants him to join Glee with her. He would rather shoot himself in the balls with a nail gun. He's pretty confident he's going to make it onto the football team (he does) and he's pretty sure Glee is the bottom of the high school food chain (it is). She can't be persuaded to try out for the Cheerios (he has no idea why not) and finally she comes out and says that she can't be with someone who isn't brave enough to step outside of his box (he has no idea what that means in this context).
They break up. They're both too stubborn to compromise and too young (too smart) to think it was forever.
It would have been forgotten, it would have been fine, if that was The End.
Two weeks into their first semester, Puck throws a slushie at her. She's been pegged by the seniors on the football team and the dare is a part of his initiation process. As he approaches her, cup in hand, he builds up the nerve by reminding himself over and over she didn't want him. He tosses coloured ice in her face and watches the whole school laugh at her. He feels a sick sort of accomplishment. So what if she didn't want him? No one will want her now. He's made sure of it.
Over the course of the next year, he slushies her at least once a week. She never asks why and he never stops to explain. Nothing is fine and nothing is forgotten.
TBC
