AN: Ok, so the story line occasionally may be a bit skewed (like the amounts of days between things) but the order will be the exact same. Sorry for any inaccuracies!
Disclaimer: Standard disclaimer, if I owned anything the show would be airing much earlier in Australia and I wouldn't have to rely on Torrents and youtube to get my glee fix.
Enjoy :)
***
Finn Hudson was quite possibly the biggest idiot I had ever met.
I know that it sounded rude and I'd never say it to his face (at least in words he'd understand) but it was the truth. He was simply an idiot.
Part of me was hoping that the largely unsuccessful hour and a half I had spent squeezing information on the themes present within Hamlet and the major events leading to the American Civil war out of him (in which time I'm almost certain he began to fall asleep at least twice) had something to do with his most likely poor sleeping patterns. The other, predominantly negative, much more realistic side of my brain (the one that told me that Santa didn't exist when I was 5) however was resigned to the fact that this was just going to be another year of 'Melanie Carter and the idiot jock' on repeat. The fact that he wasn't a complete asshole just made things worse.
I was one thing to be an idiot that I could hate (Exhibit A: Noah Puckerman) but one that was reminiscent of my childhood pet golden retriever was little more difficult to contemptuously scoff at.
Not that that stopped me from doing it internally, mind you.
After all, he really was an idiot.
After closing my locker, Manilla folder now sitting on top of copy of Hamlet and my trigonometry notes, Finn Hudson's idiocy still reeling through my mind as I tried to fathom just what he spent his time doing in class when everyone else was at least pretending to pay attention I made my way to my next destination.
***
I didn't know if it was pathetic that I was used to Noah Puckerman looking at me like I'd grown another head whenever I walked into a room. Because that was the only way I could describe the look on his face as I busted in on yet another Glee Club rehearsal. This one was distinctly lacking in the oestrogen department. It was also distinctly lacking in the aforementioned idiot who I was looking for.
"Hey sorry to interrupt" I stood at the door, manilla folder in hand and my other books shoved under my arm awkwardly, I could feel them slipping as I stood there and continued my speech with as much speed as possible so I could leave and readjust them and my glasses which, true to form were sliding down my nose "Is Finn Hudson here?"
Kurt Hummel, who was mid way filing his nails looked up at me and said, in a voice that shocked me every time it left his mouth "Oh, god you're not in love with him too are you?"
"Excuse me?" I had only barely restrained a snort of laughter before I answered, Manilla folder still in outstretched hand.
"It isn't really that strange a query" Artie, who was sitting closest to the door started reasoning "I'd gauge that 75% of the sophomore female population has a 'crush' on Finn at any given time"
"Yeah he's real dreamy" Noah Puckerman snapped "What did you want him for?"
After internalising some amazing gay humour concerning Noah Puckerman, Finn Hudson and singing 80's love ballads in the football locker showers I cleared my throat and tried again "Um he left some of his U.S history notes at our tutoring session on Tuesday"
"And?"
"And" I continued, trying my hardest to ignore Noah Puckerman's glare of apathetic disdain "I was going to return them to him?" My voice ended in a question before I dove into the next sentence "So, um, is he going to be here or?"
"He went to the school nurse" Artie said "He just fell asleep mid conversation"
"Oh well" I looked at the folder in my hand and struggled to keep the other notes pinned between my arm and my ribcage "Um, could you give these to him?" I looked around the room, sizing up each of it's members, I had a good feeling that Noah Puckerman wouldn't accept anything from me that came in a Manilla folder, I hadn't a clue if Finn Hudson even talked to the two other random Jocks who were straddling chairs around the room, I didn't know if Kurt was still on the receiving end of the morning dumpster ritual and I was pretty sure the only time he and Artie shared airspace was during Glee rehearsals. Beside me there was a large book shelf and after a millisecond's consideration I placed the folder on it "I'll just leave it there, for when rehearsal's over. Just make sure he gets it"
Exiting the room, and hastily reorganising my notes (from under my arm to my left hand), I made to push up my glasses. Midway through this action, and halfway down the corridor my shoulder was clipped by a tall, semi familiar, sweater clad figure.
"Oh Excuse me!" came a bright response to my less than cavalier flailing "Melanie isn't it?"
I hadn't expected the person to speak to me or know my name regardless of who they were (unless they were Jacob, and if I had run into him I would have been out of the hallway and into a decontamination shower before you could say 'Miss Pillsbury who?'). Generally speaking I didn't go noticed by the general public (except Jacob, but he didn't really count) I had this 'I'm an easily shaken nerd do not come within 50 feet of me' vibe that was generally hard to shake regardless of its inaccuracy. The fact that the person (now recognisable as Finn Hudson, quite shockingly) was now engaging me in an apologetic and increasingly fervent shoulder pat, understandably threw me for a loop. The fact that apparently minutes ago he had been in the process of nanna napping didn't really help either.
"Uh- yes" I narrowed one eye sceptically as the practically bouncing teenaged boy (who up until recently appeared to have been in a semi comatose state) shrugged his shoulders before I cut in "I, um, left your history notes in the Choir rehearsal room, on the cabinet closest to the-"
"Oh yeah, Tutoring! I was wondering where I knew you from because I don't really recognise people who wear glasses but now I remember. Hey you talked about 'Hamlet' on Tuesday didn't you. I really didn't have any idea what you were talking about though so I think tonight I'm going to go home and read it"
"You're going to go home and read 'Hamlet'?" My mind, still not quite catching up with the fact that he was admitting (rather loudly might I add and in a crowded corridor) to partaking in peer tutoring with me and the fact that up until recently he had been in a permanently semi comatose state, seemed content to simply repeat whatever he said until it decided to catch up.
"Yeah!" his face broke into a large grin and I was distinctly reminded of my 6-year-old cousin
"'Hamlet's a four hour play"
My mind seemed to have progressed from repeating whatever Finn Hudson (who could have been vibrating and emitting a low humming sound with the amount of energy he was suddenly equipped with) to stating random bits of trivia. Thankfully (but not entirely shockingly, as I said before, Finn was an IDIOT) he didn't seem to notice any lapse in my social skills, in fact almost before I had finished speaking he had enthusiastically patted me on the shoulder (which almost sent me reeling into a set of lockers) in what I could only assume to be farewell before making his way to the room I had just vacated.
"See you on Tuesday for tutoring!" He called over his shoulder as he bounded down the hallway, knocking into a few concerned looking students as he waved over his shoulder.
"Uh, yeah see you?"
***
I was beginning to think that the world was on crack, or some other sort of illicit highly addictive substance that the school board refused to let us learn about, even if it was just for preventative measures. My run in with Finn Hudson had been a starting off point of the weirdness, his energy apparently had been infectious. No seriously, infectious. I was pretty sure that there was some sort of communicable disease going around because the next day (after tutoring a more incoherent than usual Tina) Noah Puckerman had walked into the communal tutoring room.
No, not walked, swaggered.
With the enthusiasm of a teenaged boy entering the backstage area of a Victoria's Secret show.
And that was a lot of enthusiasm for someone who was ultimately walking towards an hour and a half of barely suppressed eye rolls and words that he didn't understand coming from a girl who he stared at with some level of distain or disgust whenever they shared a room.
After he circled the table that had been set up twice, bumped fists with a member of the chess club and attempted what I could only assume was supposed to be a wolf imitation, he threw himself into the chair across from me. He then proceeded to use two of my highlighters as drumsticks on the desk, endeavoured to start a group sing along of a Bon Jovi's 'it's my life' and almost achieved involving the majority of the room in a half hearted mosh pit.
Needless to say we were told to move to another room pretty quickly after that.
Thankfully the behaviour didn't last for much longer. He hit a figurative brick wall with around fifteen minutes of the tutoring session left.
So yes, the world was on crack. Finn Hudson was sending me flying towards lockers and Noah Puckerman was showing enthusiasm (even if it was only towards 80's rock) in a tutoring session. It was exactly this thought that was running through my head as I poured through my locker and a few feet away from me Rachel Berry and Quinn Fabray appeared to be engaging in civilised conversation, civilised conversation that I could almost over hear if I just leant a little closer.
"I would have tortured you if the roles were reversed"
"I know"
The conversation now at a definite end (and my curiosity appropriately piqued) Rachel Berry walked passed me on her way down the hallway. Fishing for my last book out of my locker (my U.S history textbook which seemed to be constantly getting lost in the mess of my possessions) I clutched it to my chest and went to close my locker door. I hated to admit it but I was burning to know just what the conversation was about. Call it my inner gossip monger coming out to play, call it over to exposure day time television with my bout of Mono over the summer, call it my lack of life causing me to live vicariously through two people I didn't know or like, whatever it was, it was going to distract me for the rest of the day.
"Hi Melanie"
For a second I almost shrieked. Standing behind my locker door in a way worthy of a Stephen King novel was Jacob. Upon this realisation my urge to shriek and run far far away returned. I didn't though (I hadn't participated in a gym lesson in a long time and chances were Jacob would try to tackle me in the hallway to get me to stop), so I simply put on my best 'I am unimpressed by your existence' face and spoke.
"You know if your blog doesn't become a world wide success and start providing you with income, I think stalker would be a definite fall back career"
I walked past him towards the library, my books clutched protectively to my chest (he had been known to perve, even if I hardly had a rack to speak of) waiting for the ball to drop and the reason for his arrival to become apparent.
"I've got a proposition for you" he started, trailing next to me
"No I will not convince Rachel Berry to pose for your 'the body in art' photography port folio"
"I'll have you know I scratched that idea months ago"
"Talk faster" I was almost at the library by this stage, the salvation of elderly librarians telling people to 'shush' was at my finger tips. Just a set of stairs to go.
"I would like you to edit my upcoming blog entry"
I stopped short for a moment, causing Jacob to stumble and almost fall into a threatening looking jock with an iced beverage in hand. The editing jobs were something I did sporadically for him. Mostly when I was running low on cash and felt like tearing his ego down a couple of levels.
"I do not want to edit part three of 'why Rachel wants to have hot sex with me in various public places'. It's disgusting, inappropriate and morally reprehensible"
Jacob leant into me, wheezing a little from the near sprint I had come at the library with, had I not been so grossed out by the sheen of sweat on his top lip and his general proximity to me I would have marvelled at the level of perfection his 'stalker breathing' had reached.
"What if I told you" he said licking his top lip (I pulled a face) "That the focus of the story was definitely not Rachel Berry?"
I raised an eyebrow, threw a look at the library doors (that lay at the foot of the staircase we were standing at) and shrugged.
"$50, have it for me on Monday and you can consider it done"
***
AN: Reviews are my anti drug :). Please and thank you!
