A/N: So we still need characters for the story, and we're trying to get a little diversity and less Carbon-Copies of future New Directions (right now The Singsations). So we decided to put out a teaser chapter with some of our accepted characters. Check it out and hopefully it will inspire you to submit!
"So, Mr. Jones," the principal's voice droned to what West realized must finally be a conclusion. "In the future please remember to be more courteous of the volume of your engine in the lot, or there will be consequences." The boy rolled his eyes at the warning, lifting his hand to his eyebrow where he absently traced his scar. He'd just transferred to this school and he couldn't care less if he got kicked out by the afternoon. Did the woman in front of him whose hair could practically create its own gravitational pull really think he gave a damn about how loud his T-bird's engine revved? What a loser cow-town, he grumbled internally.
"Anyways," the woman continued, apparently oblivious to his unresponsiveness in the conversation. "Here is your schedule, and one of your peers will be showing you around. Feel free to voice to him any questions or concerns you may have during the day. Welcome to McKinley."
With that a bell rang loudly, and Westyn Darell Jones sat his aviator sunglasses back onto his face and made his way out of the office and into the hall, where some string bean white kid in stone-washed jeans and an ugly striped shirt leaned up against the wall with a stupid looking smile.
The kid pushed himself to standing and stuck out his hand. "Hey there," he greeted amiably. "Chris Hudson. You must be—" he took a quick look at a piece of paper in his hand "—Westyn?"
"West," the boy replied curtly, turning to move down the hall and leaving the boy's hand empty. Apparently that wasn't enough of a hint, however, since the kid merely jogged after him, catching up within a couple strides.
"Well, welcome to McKinley, West. As one of your peers, I'll be able to walk you through your classes and answer any questions you may have as you find your footing…" the brunette continued, going into an odd tone that made the dark-skinned boy feel like he was listening to a robot.
"What, did you memorize a speech or something?" the boy couldn't help but ask.
Chris smiled sheepishly. "Sorry," he told the other boy. "This isn't really my thing. I only really volunteered to get on someone's good side." He looked around as the halls thinned out and then back to the boy next to him. "You mind if I grab a quick smoke?"
West quirked up an eyebrow in surprise, but nodded and followed his "guide" through the corridors and out the door, past the gym and behind the locker room where Chris pulled out a cigarette.
"You want one?" the boy offered, to which the new kid shrugged and took the stick. "I really should quit, but damn if I don't need one this week." Chris laughed as he looked at the boy next to him. "You'll find this school is probably a lot weirder than wherever you came from before."
"Philly," West told him, continuing quickly "and no, I don't know Will Smith, and I hate that stupid show." He'd heard that same Fresh Prince joke three times since he'd arrived in Lima.
Regardless, Chris laughed, obviously thinking it was a funny joke. "Yeah, well, here, the coolness factor is separated in the weirdest ways possible. There's what should be cool—the jocks, the cheerleaders, that side—and what isn't cool but seems to get everyone's attention. That's the Glee Club." He shook his head. "The Singsations," he scoffed, taking another puff of nicotine. "I'd tell you to steer clear, but somehow you just can't escape them—it's annoying as hell."
West looked at the boy in disbelief. He couldn't possibly be serious. "What do you mean—?" he began.
"Hudson," a feminine voice called out, and West watched as the gangly boy swore quietly and grabbed the new boy's cigarette from his hand, throwing them both to the ground and crushing them beneath his feet. The juniors watched as a tiny girl approached them with a determined look on her face, her baby doll dress swishing across her body with each step. West had to admit that, even for a white girl, she was a hell of a looker: even the irritated expression kind of highlighted her pale features.
The girl finally reached them, and Chris tried awkwardly to look casual as he greeted her with an easy smile. "Hey Elle—what's crackin'?"
"Chris, you're supposed to be in Study Hall, helping me with our set list for Invitationals," the tiny brunette told him, and West's eyes widened in surprise.
"Yeah, well, I told Carole I'd help show the new kid around," the boy replied, gesturing to Westyn next to him.
Ellie rolled her eyes. "Of course," she sighed. "Anything for a pretty girl." Then she turned her focus to the unfamiliar face. "Hi, I'm Elizabeth Miller," she greeted enthusiastically, reaching out and taking the boy's hand. "You must be Westyn Jones?" The boy nodded in surprise, and she continued, "you should consider The Singsations—we're putting together an amazing team this year to take National's. We could always use some fresh blood, though."
"Sounds awesome," West told her sarcastically. "I'll really give it some thought."
"You should," the blue-eyed girl insisted. "Glee really opens you up, you know? You may find something you're missing." And with that, she gave a stern glance to Chris and turned heel back the way she came.
"What the hell was that?" West finally managed after a few beats of silence. "You're friends with that ball of crazy?"
Chris gave a dry laugh. "Not really. Virgin Queen thinks she's too good for us. But watch your step, man—now that she's got you in her sights, she'll find your Achilles' Heel same as mine and pull you into the Singing Suckers too."
The other boy looked at him with a scoff. He didn't care what the Petite Le Freak threw at him—no way in hell was he joining Glee.
A/A/N: So now you've met Westyn Jones, Christopher Hudson, and Elizabeth Miller. We've also already got a Leroy Berry, but we still need more parents! We've got a lot of girl submissions, so we could use some more boys, and remember—try to think outside the box. Just because certain ND-ers have characteristics of their parents doesn't mean they were the same (clique, personality, etc)!