Author's Note: Thank you guys so much for the reviews. Not only am I happy that people are responding well to a Puck/Tina friendship fic or wherever I end up taking this, but I've also learned to just run with my ideas. I was a Puckelberry fan for a little bit before Mash-up aired (but that lasted for about five minutes when I saw the episode and didn't like how it was executed at all) and I'm going back and forth on Tartie (the name ArTina just isn't sticking for me haha), so I'm pretty open-minded with the pairings myself. I tend to make little dorky references to other works, so kudos to those who get a kick out of them and kudos to those who just let me be a dork on my own haha. Hope you guys like this chapter; it was pretty entertaining to write. Enjoy!
Chapter 3: The Game-Changer
Tina gets a text message on Saturday night.
Why did Santana say she saw you and Puck leaving his house together this morning?
She laughs grimly and doesn't respond—leave it to Kurt to use no abbreviations whatsoever. Tina's too busy being disturbed by the fact Santana knows this to decide how to explain herself without him blowing this out of proportion, which was likely to happen no matter what she did.
Tina decisively tosses her phone onto her bed and heads towards the bathroom, shedding her jewelry and armwarmers to be greeted by a much-needed shower. She gets a quick flash of Santana clutching stalker-binoculars and a sniper rifle in the tree outside of Puck's family room window. Tina grabs her face cleanser and just as quickly tries to wash the image away.
As she's lathering shampoo into her long, streaked strands, she tries to dissect what exactly she was feeling. Her mind first went to Artie. He was easily her best friend in the world and he hadn't spoken to her in almost two weeks. She tried not to think about how pathetic it was how quickly she went from pushing his chair to having to resort to staring longingly at him during Glee. She moves her face under the showerhead, eagerly dousing her face, definitely not wanting to get into this again.
Rinsing her hair and reaching for the conditioner, she determined this feeling right now was simply tranquility. This was the first time in what felt like forever that she was able to even begin thinking about Artie without promptly dissolving into a puddle. She didn't know whether it was from all the crying she did yesterday morning or hanging around Puck.
She didn't want to think about that either.
Sunday evening the storm got worse and the snow was a little deeper.
She got a check-in call from her parents and assured them she was fine, conveniently leaving out the little sleepover detail, blaming her failure to call them when she got home from school on a combination of bad reception and misplacing her phone charger. Tina got a few more texts from Kurt and a couple from Mercedes, which she ignored as well. She figured she'd face their combined diva-wrath come Monday.
She briefly thought about texting Puck. She had his number for Glee purposes, but she didn't think that it really seemed fitting. Not too long ago he was throwing slushies in her face. Then again, if someone told her she would be coming home from Puck's this afternoon she would've shuddered at the mere implication. Or just stare at that said person.
It was around the time she got a text from Brittany who asked why the sky was so sad that she decided she'll just face all of it tomorrow.
Monday morning soon came, and Tina sighed as she sat on a green seat cushion at her kitchen table, swiftly propping a leg up on the chair opposite her one at a time to lace up her boots. She was not looking forward to the daily trek to school that she now had to endure alone.
Opening her front door, she was surprised to find Puck's truck in her driveway. Spotting her, he watched as she hobbled down her porch steps, carefully avoiding the slippery patches on the wood.
He remained silent as she approached, and simply nodded to the front seat as an indication to get in. She stood there for a few seconds simply staring. She thought of Artie and meeting spots and the stinging pain of avoidance.
Needless to say, she got in.
"Just what do you think you're doing?"
Tina's hand freezes in midair, clutching her Biology textbook.
"I'm putting my books away. Since when was that a crime?" she smirks, recovering when she notices it's just Kurt. She resumes sorting through her books, shrugging off her startled demeanor. This fraction of peace doesn't last as Mercedes sidles up beside him.
"Okay, girl—dish."
"Dish what?" she asks in flat distraction, her attention still on her locker.
She already knew what was coming.
She wasn't surprised Mercedes and Kurt were the first to bombard her when Monday morning came. She was lucky enough to avoid them most of the day, but, as she already knew, brushing it off doesn't and never will work with either of them.
Instead of giving them what they want, however, she simply puts the last of her books away, shuts her locker, and sidesteps their inquisition and walks around them to head towards the choir room.
"Oh c'mon, you can't start some vengeful affair with the resident Neanderthal and not tell us about it," Kurt whispers shrilly, following a foot behind her with Mercedes at his side. "That's just rude—we're supposed to be kindred!"
"Vengeful?" She asks innocently, halfheartedly indulging them as she rounds a corner.
"Seriously Tina, I know Artie broke your heart and all—but Puck? Really? Streetwalkers on Skid Row have chosen better rebounds than that."
"We're just friends," she supplies evenly as she ambles through the open door before them, ignoring the cheap jab about Artie.
She loves them both dearly, but they weren't the most sensitive when it came to bringing up the Artie-topic. Granted, they both wholeheartedly accepted her when she personally told them the truth about her stutter. They wound up on her doorstep the night of their disastrous first date with a tub of ice cream and a box of tissues after Mercedes called Tina, only to be greeted with incoherent babbling and gasping sobs. They both could see why Artie was initially upset with her, but were outraged when he seemingly dropped their friendship entirely. They both essentially took her side in secret, even when she insisted there weren't any sides to begin with.
They were fabulous friends—they just didn't know when to leave her alone.
And if she thought about it, she was being honest.
As unbelievable as it was, this thing that she somehow managed to develop with Puck—this teasing, movie-watching, sister-sitting, hanging-out-and-playing-music-without-really-discussing-what-in-fact-was-going-on-or-letting-anyone-else-know-about-it thing falls under all the characteristics of friendship she could possibly think of.
As bizarre and unsettling as that may be.
She figured after their weekend he would probably ignore her to save himself from the awkwardness, but when he showed up at her driveway this morning, her anxiety about it dissipated a bit. After all he was Puck, the guy who was so confident he claimed he could pull off wearing a dress to school. He was the guy who chose Rachel and Glee over football, despite how short-lived their fling was, despite what other slushie-throwing jocks thought of him. They had walked through the school doors this morning, arguing about the particular meaning of some Ramones song, and it was early enough that the few people that were there weren't really paying attention.
Regardless, she doesn't have to look back at Kurt and Mercedes to know they're not buying it.
"Friends? That's got to be the biggest load of bull I ever did hear…"
"That's like saying you're friends with a rabies-infested pit-bull—in this case I'm assuming it's a gonorrhea-infested jock," Kurt comments to the succession of Mercedes laughter.
Rachel is, predictably, the first person in the choir room when they finally reach it. Rachel promptly looks up from the sheet music she is examining, her legs crossed as she perches daintily on the piano bench.
By the time Tina reaches her, still trying to put a damper on this interrogation, Brittany is prancing towards her with Puck trudging through the door behind her.
"Good afternoon," Rachel greets and smiles her bright Rachel-Berry-smile. "Noah," she adds, and Tina whips around to catch Puck walking in a few paces behind her. He nods a little and, as per usual, trudges over to slump onto one of the plastic chairs and pulls out his guitar.
Tina is looking at him like she wants to say something, but can't exactly find the words.
Frustrated at the lack of response, Kurt asks if a cat got her tongue. Puck watches Tina as she props her elbows up and leans against the black piano and laughs, trying to assure Brittany that her tongue is surely not in danger.
"Hey Artie!" Brittany suddenly greets, and Puck notes curiously how Tina's shoulders tense, although she is facing with her back to the door. She catches Puck's gaze and her cheeks burn a little in discomfort and she shakes her head, attempting to dissuade his questioning gaze.
Soon enough, Schue is walking in, causing them to scatter away from the piano.
Puck's gaze follows Tina as she ambles over, silently taking the empty seat next to him. When their eyes meet she smiles that little half-smile of hers. He nods unsmiling, but she takes the semi-acknowledgement as a good thing.
She notices Kurt and Mercedes staring at them, then back at each other.
"Uh, did I just put myself on their freaky telepathic radar?"
"Yup," Tina responds easily, her voice already shaking with amusement. "But hey, it could be worse," she reasons with a shrug.
He stares at her blankly for a few seconds.
"How?"
She laughs at his mockingly incredulous expression, which only further fuels the curiosity of her two friends, completely forgetting her daily ritual of watching Artie. If she were looking—she would've seen that this time, Artie was staring back.
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