The bell rang and the day was about to end. She half-dreaded going to glee club, only because she didn't want to witness another round of Sam and Santana eating each other's faces.
Entering the room, she saw Mercedes, Tina, Artie, Mike and Puck. She was welcomed with a "hello" and she found an empty seat next to Mike, making the maroon chair creak as she sat down.
"How were your classes?" asked Mike casually.
"Do you really want to know?" she replied flatly.
He chuckled, "Guess not. Mine was great, by the way."
He reached inside his bag and pulled out a piece of paper, Quinn saw, written on top of the page in bright red ink; F. He flicked the corner of the page where the grade was with his finger, "Geography."
"Geography?"
"The teacher failed me because I was making and throwing paper planes during the test," he said, with a hint of guilt.
"And why in the world would you do that in the first place?"
"Uh… because I finished my test before anyone else did, so I was bored," said Mike and then he laughed, "I know. Lame reason."
Just then, Sam and Santana entered the room, the blond's arm around her shoulders, followed by the rest of the glee club members. Mike sensed the uneasiness from Quinn as she watched the couple sat down in front of them. In front of her! Mike took a glance at the blonde girl's reaction, it was just as he expected, she looked murderous.
Thankfully Mr. Schuester burst into the room with a satisfied smile on his face and that drew Quinn away from doing anything silly to the two people in front of her (like strangling them).
"We're going to do something fun today, guys!" Mr. Schue said with his usual enthusiastic tone.
"Are we doing a musical number from Cats?" Rachel looked up, her eyes hopeful.
"Uh, no. We are going to do something even better."
Mr. Schue whipped out a whiteboard marker from his coat pocket and wrote on the board: 'INTERNATIONAL' and he underlined the word, the pen squeaking as it dragged across the surface.
The students looked at each other, puzzled by the lone word written in front of them.
"We are going to do international songs. We've been too focused on songs that we are comfortable with in our native language," explained the teacher, "but now I want you guys to explore the world."
There was a great chatter of feedback from the members.
"There are some great music out there that are not common here in the States. Ever heard of Bollywood?" Mr. Schue continued.
Surprisingly, Rachel gave a loud gasp, a smile forming across her face.
"My dads rented some Bollywood movies few years back and although the stories are cliched and overly cheesy, their expression in musical arts were fantastic! From costumes to music to the settings. The cinematic effects: simply amazing, with the dance routines so intricate and so rich with culture and tradition that everything about it is just so-" Rachel started on her monologue, but as usual, before everything became overwhelming, Mr. Schue interrupted her.
"OK, Rachel, thank you. Well said, but remember, it's not only about Bollywood," the older man replied, "Explore the ends of the world, you would be surprised how music is universally spread out with their own unique qualities about them. Do your research and in our next session, we'll see what you guys can come up with."
Tina, who was sitting in the front row, looked back to where Mike was sitting. She met his eyes and both of them knew what they were thinking. They were both Asian and they knew that doing Asian songs together would please Mr. Schue. More than anything, Mike wanted to do the assignment together with her, something about his self-respected oriental roots stirred inside him.
However, when Artie turned to her, she broke their eye contact and reverted her attention to the boy in the wheelchair. Miffed, Mike stuffed his hands in the pockets of his hooded-sweater.
"I believe Finn and Puck has been working on a number for the past week, let's hear it guys." Mr. Schuester said, as he picked up his notebook and sat down next to Rachel, who looked as though someone gave her a can of Redbull, she looked too excited for the upcoming assignment.
He was inside the familiar place, several lights were on, but it was not bright enough to illuminate the whole gymnasium. The dark orange ball sprung from the backboard and Mike caught it, using the momentum to bounce the ball and doing cross-overs, the ball passing between his muscled legs.
He dribbled the ball as he ran. A jump shot and it went in. He tossed the ball away in frustration and it hit the wall, his anger sailing with it. The teenage boy dragged his feet to the benches, his sneakers squeaking against the waxed floor. His Nike duffel bag was open and he saw his iPod Touch. He scrolled through his playlist and saw a song that wasn't written in English. He played it and what followed was a catchy slow pop tune which he was able to make simple dance steps to.
The chorus had a climactic groove and melody that Mike began to fancy, thus doing slide steps according to the beat. The words that sang out from his iPod were alien to his ears, but the feelings didn't need to be spelled out. It was there, clear as day, a bittersweet memory of a lost love.
He let the song finish, while doing elementary dance moves. It calmed his mind, his anger left him completely as he danced inside the dimly lit basketball court.