Ch 2:
Tuesdays; now, those were nice. Quinn had a full schedule of home economics, English, study hall, and glee. She approached the school this particular Tuesday morning with something of a renewed hope. Yesterday, Kurt had reminded her that she wasn't alone. It was something she heard too much, and something she saw demonstrated far too little.
As she rounded the corner to the main entrance, she noticed a group clustered near the dumpster. Quinn stopped in her tracks, and shook her head as she watched one especially tall, mohawked figure shove a smaller boy into the cold, hard steel. She remembered all the times she'd stood by Puck as he tossed McKinley's unfortunates and outcasts into the trash.
She was ashamed of herself.
As she stormed across the parking lot to lay the smack down on Puck and his goons, she recognized their victim. It was none other than Kurt Hummel.
"Douchebags!" Quinn shook off her backpack, slamming it down so hard that it bounced off the concrete. "What on earth do you think you're doing?"
"Well, hello, Miss Piggy. How nice of you to join us," Puck smirked.
"Don't even start with me." She cast a sidelong glance at Kurt, who was trembling, in what was either rage or fear, in Matt's muscular arms. His eyes were wide as saucers.
"What did he ever do to you, Puck?"
"We caught him checking out Finn in the locker room last night. Undressing him with his eyes. It was freakin' disgusting."
Quinn threw her hands up in the air and cast her eyes heavenward – an instinct, she realized. She was praying for patience.
"So he looked the wrong way in the showers. Big deal. You can't just chuck people into the dumpster. Honestly, how old are you? Twelve?"
"I seem to remember," Puck smirked, "Not too long ago, you were here every day helping us take out the trash."
Quinn swallowed. "Don't you dare," she replied hoarsely. "It's wrong."
He shrugged at her, and then turned back to Matt. Quinn watched, helplessly, as Matt shoved Kurt towards Puck. Puck caught him by his shoulders, and then heaved him up and over the rim of the dumpster. Kurt landed with a faint crash.
The football team laughed and high-fived each other. After a few seconds, and a few well-timed death glares from Quinn, they scattered, leaving her alone in front of the blue bin. When she was sure they'd all left, she called his name.
"Kurt?"
There was no reply.
"Kurt whatever-your-middle-name-is Hummel?"
He was silent.
"Are you planning on lying in the trash all day?"
"Yes," came his muffled response.
"I can't imagine it's very comfortable in there."
"On the contrary," he said. "It's very cozy."
Quinn approached the dumpster, peeking over the edge. She extended her arm. "Give me your hand. I'll help you out."
He groped in the air for her hand, and then found it, clasped it tight. She backed up, pulling hard. Slowly, Kurt emerged from the garbage. He released her hand and clambered over the edge by himself. She winced at the boy in front of her.
"Oh, Kurt. You're a mess."
He looked down, forlorn. "This was D&G," he mumbled, picking scraps of what looked like cotton candy off his red sweater.
"Yuck."
Quinn moved behind him, brushing off dirt, grass, and the other random crap that had collected on his back. She sniffed her hand and reeled at the scent. It was likely that some actual crap had found its way out of the garbage can and onto Kurt's sweater.
"You wouldn't happen to have anything else to wear today, would you?"
He shook his head. "Hope springs eternal."
"I think I have my old Cheerios windbreaker in my backpack if you wanted to borrow it."
"Oh, goodie. I've always wanted to be a cheerleader."
"It'll go with those black skinny jeans," she teased.
He shrugged his shoulders. "Fine."
She stalked back to her backpack and dug around for the jacket.
"You know, I don't need your help, Quinn."
She looked up at him, a little startled, jacket in her hand.
"You remember yesterday, during Calc?"
He nodded.
"I didn't need your help then, either."
They exchanged sly smiles. Kurt unbuttoned his sweater, casting it to the ground. She passed him the jacket and he slipped it on, zipping it up to his chin.
"That's convenient. Who would have ever thought that we wear the same size?"
She giggled. "You look ridiculous."
"Ridiculously awesome?"
"No," she smiled. "Just... ridiculous."
"Excellent," he said. "Well, I guess I'll see you at Glee last period?"
"Of course."
He waved to her and walked away. She couldn't help but laugh at the sight of her last name splashed across his back, billowing in the wind.
Ridiculous.
---
"Do you remember when we used to dance?"
Two stomps. One clap.
"And incidence rose from circumstance!"
Stomp. Stomp. Clap.
"One thing led to another, we were young.
And we would scream together songs unsung."
Boom, boom, clap.
"It was the heat of the moment!
Telling me what your heart meant!"
Rachel burst to the front of the group, echoing Mercedes' battle cry.
"The heat of the moment shone in your eyes!"
It was actually very hot in the auditorium. The stage lights burned in the eyes of the glee club as they swayed back and forth, chanting the outro.
"Heat of the moment! Heat of the moment!
The heat of the moment shone in your eyes!"
The entire ensemble froze to belt out the final line.
"Heat of the moment!"
The final hiss of the snare drum told them their song was over. Mr. Schuester rose from his seat in the audience, clapping slowly.
"Good job, gang! I think we have our new number for Sectionals."
Rachel Berry smiled broadly. "Thanks to my artistic vision, of course."
"And the '80s rock album we listen to when we make out," Puck added.
Rachel's smile disappeared, and Mr. Schuester's eyebrows rose.
"All-righty, then," Mr. Schuester hummed, clearly uncomfortable. "I have a modest proposal for you all: who remembers last month when we paired up for ballads?"
Quinn thought back to last month. Last month, she had had a home. Last month, her parents had been proud to call her their daughter. Last month, life was a whole lot simpler.
And, if she remembered correctly, she'd paired up for a ballad with Artie at some point. It was all a blur.
"I'd really like to do something similar, only this time, each pair will compose and perform a mash-up."
"Are we randomly selecting partners again?" Finn asked. There was a bit of desperation in his voice. Quinn wondered why.
"No, I've already paired you up, just based on how I think your voices will sound together." Mr. Schuester pulled out a sheet of paper from his back pocket, unfolding it before he read out the names.
"Santana and Matt. Brittany and Quinn."
Brittany bounced up and down excitedly. Quinn grinned at the bubble-headed blonde. Oh, joy.
"Mike and Tina. Puck and Rachel."
Rachel's face lit up with a smile, and Quinn stifled a snide laugh.
"Mercedes and Artie."
The two high-fived.
"And Finn and Kurt."
Quinn thought she heard a high-pitched squeal from behind her. She turned just in time to lock eyes with Kurt. He blushed bright red before looking up and away. She raised one eyebrow at him. He began rocking back and forth, whistling frantically and avoiding her gaze.
Well, that was certainly different.
"I'm going to make this due in a couple of weeks. Who knows, some of the better ones might even wind up on our set-list for Sectionals. Hop to it, kids."