"Who let you back here?" Mag asked, doing everything she could to hold her robe closed, despite the fact that it was already knotted.
"Your 'bodyguard,'" Santana said, nodding towards Puck with a smirk on her face. "Word to the wise; next time your trying to keep a secret, make sure you're not surrounded by a bunch of gossip-mongers."
"Who did you tell?" Mag asked, drawing herself as tall as her six inch platforms allowed her to. Santana's smirk remained plastered to her face.
"You're barking up the wrong tree, girlie," she said. "I haven't told anyone."
"If you didn't say anything," Mag said before turning to Mr. Schuester, "then why are you here?"
"I was driving by and saw Santana come in," he said. "I followed her, to make sure she was okay, and saw you on the stage and Puck by the door."
"Jesus," Mag said, shooing Schuester away from the door so that she could open it. "Am I really that easy to recognize?"
Santana shrugged, following her into the dressing room. The Latina took one look around the place, shrugged again, and perched herself on the arm of the couch.
"It's not so much an ease of recognition as it is a bit of research," she said. "I checked into Dayton Public. They didn't have a Jeremy Black on record... but they did have a Margaret Black, who had recently transferred out."
Mag had paled when Santana mentioned research. "What else did you find?" she asked, her jaw set in anger. Santana grinned smugly at her nails.
"Found your mother's arrest records," she said, grinning up at Mag. "Found all her marriage licenses as well. I was surprised at how many of those I found."
"Yeah, that bitch did like getting married to whatever piece of filth would have her," Mag said with a scoff.
"Sorry to interrupt what I'm sure would be a stimulating conversation about your parentage," Schuester began, "but I'm more concerned about having a student that... well, is in your employment situation." Mag shrugged.
"It pays the bills, doesn't interfere with school, and allows me to save up for college," she said.
"It's also illegal," he said. "You're only sixteen. You shouldn't have to work in a place like this."
"Are you shitting me?" Mag asked. "This is the best job I've ever had. There's no touching involved beyond picking up tips, and Puck's not the only thing that keeps the idiots that think they stand a chance at bay. Only reason you guys got back here without being harassed is because Puck didn't start anything. If he'd been trying to keep you away, the others would've picked up on it and helped him out."
"That doesn't change the fact that it's illegal for either of you to even be in here!" Schuester said.
"Figures it'd be your room the shouting's coming from," Max said, leaning on the doorframe and startling everyone.
"You know me," Mag said, rolling her eyes. "Can't stay outta trouble."
"What's going on?" he asked, crossing his arms. Mag sighed.
"Max, this is Mr. Schuester, the Glee coach and my Spanish teacher, and Santana Lopez, busybody," she said. "Santana, Mr. Schue, this is Max, my employer."
"Do you regularly hire underage girls to take their clothes off?" Schuester asked, rounding on Max.
"Don't make assumptions on a situation you know nothing about," Max said darkly. "You have no idea what kind of place I pulled her out of."
Mag shrank away from the memories that assaulted her, but stood her ground.
"It can't have been so bad that this is a better situation!" Schuester shouted.
"Why don't you shut your mouth about shit you don't understand?" Mag shouted right back. Schuester turned to look at her, a bewildered expression on his face.
"Mag, don't talk to your teachers like that," Max scolded. "It's not his fault he doesn't know the situation." Mag shook her head, standing firm.
"He has no fucking right to butt his head where it doesn't belong. I want a fucking apology. Just because he doesn't understand a situation doesn't give him the right to pass judgment."
"He's your teacher, Mag," Max said, trying to calm her down. "That's kind of what they do."
"Doesn't mean he should!" Mag shouted. "They don't understand! They don't know what I've had to put up with for the past sixteen years! The things people have done to me, the shit my own thrice damned mother put me through! They don't get it! And I hope, for their sake, they never do! But I refuse to stand here and be judged by someone that doesn't even know the entire story!"
"Then why don't you calm down and tell us?" Schuester asked, shouting to be heard. Mag stopped short, shocked at the interruption. Then, once she'd regained her composure, she shook her head.
"Not here," she said. "I'm not doing a confessional at a strip club. Let me get dressed, and we'll head over to my place and I'll spill, alright?"
"I'm coming with," Max said. "Make sure everybody keeps their heads." Mag nodded.
"Good idea," she said, shooing everyone out to the hallway so she could get her clothes back on.
A/N: Short chapter, I know. But it was a great place to cut it off, so I did. And the next one's up already anyways, so don't complain. XD