DISCLAIMER: I do not own, or claim to own, glee, any of the characters or songs mentioned in this story.

Same as usual: I'm not a native speaker, so I'd like for you to tell me about any grave mistakes I make.

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New Adrenaline

Chapter 2

- Found -

I exhaled the breath I'd seemed to be holding all day once the door of McKinley High closed behind me, relieved at the knowledge that I'd escaped them at least for this day. Actually, I couldn't believe my own luck. I'd expected far worse, based on what had happened only just yesterday. Azimio had only crossed my way once today, and of course he'd gladly taken the opportunity to shove me into the lockers with my hurt right arm first, but other than that, my way had stayed clear of bullies. And I surely hadn't been dumb enough to blindly and furiously rush through the entirely abandoned school building again.

I was slightly angry, though. I mean, who was Mr. Schue to tell me off? After all, I had done a perfect re-interpretation of Gives You Hell. Who cared whether the damn song title contained a "Hello", anyway? The judges at Regionals wouldn't know about the weekly assignments that were Mr. Schue's attempt at creative teaching methods. Most of my teammates – except the one I'd sung the song for, or rather because of - had been thrilled at my performance. They knew I was great, they knew I was their star, the voice that would most likely make the difference at Regionals. But Mr. Schue had to tell me off time and time again, when even he knew that without me, ND's chances of winning were incredibly low.

Well, so I'd find another song that, hopefully, would meet Mr. Schue's expectations. I'd try and look on the bright side of it: I'd get to perform a second time this week, showing off my indispensable abilities once more, hopefully finally making the others realize that they did need me, whether they liked to admit it or not.

"Rachel Berry?"

I froze at the sound of my name, registering that, sometime, I'd heard this voice before. My common sense told me that in ninety-nine percent of all cases, I would get slushied or, more recently, hurt some other way when someone called my name in an empty space around McKinley High. Granted, although the McKinley High parking lot wasn't exactly crowded at this time of the day, it wasn't deserted, either. So I took a deep breath, and, once I'd overcome the initial shock, looked for whoever had demanded my attention. I heard someone come my way from behind me and spun around on my heels, this time ready to run. Maybe I could reach my car before they could catch up with me.

I didn't run. I only froze again, and I'm pretty sure I just stood there, staring at him open-mouthed. He did not belong here. I remembered seeing him in spotlight, where he did belong, with his dark-haired blue-eyed movie star look, his show talent and his voice. Of course I knew him. One year ago, when that bonehead Sandy Ryerson had still coached the glee club, we'd been destroyed by Vocal Adrenaline and their lead vocalist, Jesse StJames. The very same Jesse StJames that stood right in front of me, right now. And all I could think was that he was so out of place.

"Where have you been all the time?" He asked the second I managed to close my mouth and actually make an impression that suggested that there was more than thin air between my ears. I didn't answer his question, though, because I was afraid at what might come out of my mouth if I dared to open it again. He didn't let my silence stop him, however. He just continued talking. "I saw you singing at Sectionals, you know." He said and gave me a warm smile. "Although you may not reach Barbra's emotional depth yet, you're undeniably talented. How come a star like you could remain hidden for such a long time?" He asked.

He had called me a star. He'd said I was talented. Jesse StJames, star of Vocal Adrenaline, the best glee club in this entire Nation, had said I was talented. I couldn't help but break into a wide smile. "I don't know what you mean. I didn't hide." I said.

"How old are you? You can't tell me that you're a freshman." He stated in a reasonable voice, obviously trying to break this down to the facts and understand why I'd been "hiding", as he'd phrased it.

"No, I'm a sophomore." I answered automatically.

"So where were you last year?" He asked, looking me straight in the eye while I wondered how in hell I should explain the Ryerson debacle.

"You may not remember me, but we did compete last year – against you." I started to explain, grinning at his confused look. "Remember the McKinley High Songbirds?" I asked, smiling wearily at him, and knew that he remembered when he gasped in surprise.

"But you didn't sing then. I would remember you." His simple statement made me smile again, and I filed his words as a compliment. Your voice, your performing is unforgettable.

"You're right; I didn't get any solos last year. Mr. Ryerson used to have a foible for young white boys." I explained.

"And now he doesn't?" Jesse asked, clearly trying to make sense of what I was telling him.

"No. He got fired after he went too far." I finished, wondering how easy it was to reveal the musical misery my freshman year had been to this stranger. "We have a new coach now, Mr. Schue. He's alright." I added. Jesse nodded understandingly.

"And he obviously knows his strongest players. He finally let you sing, after all." I smiled, biting back the comment that Mercedes would have sung the ballad if Coach Sylvester hadn't leaked our set list, but I thought that would be too much of the McKinley High dynamics for him right then.

"I didn't introduce myself." He suddenly realized. "I'm Jesse. Jesse StJames."

I just nodded. "I know who you are. You're hard to forget once one has seen you singing." I realized that I'd just rephrased the compliment I thought he'd given me before, the one about being an unforgettable performer. Well, it was certainly true about him.

"That's a real compliment, coming from you." He said.

I smiled, wondering how this conversation could be so even. It felt as if we'd been close friends for years. As if we were equal to one another. Just … perfect. You don't even know who this guy is., the reasonable part of my mind whispered, but, for the first time in my life, I told the reasonable part of my mind to shut up. This was about intuition, about feeling, and I had a good feeling about Jesse St James.

"It's a real pity you don't live in the Carmel district, you know." He said all of a sudden. "We'd make a pair of leads that would blow the competition away." That was when he took my hand and I felt that warm thing for the first time. Not the pre-mature prickles, something deeper, like a warm wave that radiated through my entire body. And that just at the simple touch of two hands, with a guy I'd only just met.

"Can I drive you home?" He asked, already leading me towards his car which probably meant that he wouldn't take no for an answer.

"Of course you can." I answered, trying to spot his car while he led me towards a corner of the parking lot where the only car was a big, black, brand-new Range Rover. A whispered "oh my god" escaped my lips, making him smile.

"The sponsors of Vocal Adrenaline gave one to every one of us after we won Nationals last year."

"Sponsors." I whispered, shaking my head in disbelief. Jesse just laughed, opened the passenger's door and helped me climb into the huge monster of a car before he walked around it and got in on the offside.

"So, where do you live?" He asked.

I began to describe the way as he pulled out of the parking lot, following my directions. The ride was over way to soon, making me once again feel sorry for myself because I lived in such a small town. Jesse was a real gentleman, however, opening the door for me and taking me to the door of the small house I lived in together with my dads. I will admit that I almost didn't believe it when he said the words, because I'd stopped believing that good things happened just like that a long time ago. But maybe everyone, including even me, deserved a little luck sometimes.

"Want to meet me Friday night?"

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