A/N: God I hate New Year's. Most depressing thing ever when you can't drink and friends are out of town. Which makes me sound emo. Goddamn. Anyways, happy new year to those who have lives.
Word Goal: 1500
"You're an ass," Tina said simply, setting her cafeteria tray in front of Puck, who was currently talking to Finn. Finn gave a questioning look to Tina, and she ignored him. After hours of contemplating, she decided she was going to tell Puck that he is: an ass.
"For what?" Puck asked.
"I saved your ungrateful ass. Say thank you." She was so sick of being quiet.
Puck paused as he was about to shove a forkful of mystery stew in his mouth. "No."
"Yes."
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
Seeing as this was going to go on, Tina said, "Why not." Statement, not question.
Finn was trying to decide if leaving was a good idea or not. But this was seeming to be interesting stuff...
"Because I don't need to," Puck said.
"Don't need to?" Tina screeched.
Puck was kind of noticing how Tina was a badass. She was pissed off, and he guessed that was sort of understandable. She started on a lecture about manners and shit. But he just watched her. Her hair did this weird wave thing when she was mad, and her hands balled into fists. Her lecture was Rachel Berry-ish, but with Tina he didn't mind, because her voice was still kind of quiet and stuff. He also thought about how long Tina's nails were, and if it hurt to have them in fists. Wouldn't they bite at her skin? Maybe they did. Her boots looked painful. Huge latches and stuff, like they were made out of armor. Even though Tina's eyes were totally Asian, they had this passionate glow in them. Like fire. Or fireworks. Yeah, fireworks. She also was wearing jeans today. Granted, she was also wearing a gothic corset, but jeans. Not like Tina. And she wasn't wearing much makeup. Puck kind've like her face better without makeup. She looked better.
"-and all you do is leave?" She's done with her rant. Puck snaps back to attention like a rubber band.
"Thank you," Puck says forcefully. The bell rings, and Puck picks up his tray without a word, and throws the mystery food into the trash, leaving. Tina stared after him, and he felt it burn through his back. Whatever. He had a history class to get to.
"And again, we will be doing duets!" Mr. Schue said excitedly. "And the magic hat will decide your partners!" Fuck. His stupid smile was still plastered to his face as people randomly pulled out names.
"Rachel, and Artie." Artie looked like he might shoot himself. Don't blame you. "Brittany and Mike." Crazy dancing will happen. "Finn and Mercedes." These were getting more and more boring until...
"Puck and Tina."
Of fucking course. The jewish god looked down on him and decided that he would unleash this vampire on him to eventually suck his blood. The monster that is Schue continues, "You will choose your own songs, and even do choreography. It's due by the end of the month."
This is really not happening. First she has to go all Florence Nightingale(a/n: ha!) on him, now she has to sing a song with him? This is going to end up as an acoustic guitar with some cheesy song mess. About rock. Or something. Most cliché thing, ever. (a/n: if you're expecting that the fact they got paired together is going to make the rest of the story cliché, you couldn't be more wrong)
"What song?" Puck asks, suddenly appearing in the seat next to her.
"No idea."
"Really?"
"Really."
This was going to be a hard partnership if they kept spinning in circles.
"Want to limit down options, make plans?"
"Plans are for losers and Berrys. We wing it."
"Just throw anything, see if it works, or if it breaks windows? If it flies with dignity or with uncertainty? See if it lands just right, with a bang and not a thud?"
"That's a poetic why of putting it."
"Apparently, I'm a vampire. Vampires have time in their caves. Poetry is a thing to do in caves."
"That's not the only thing you can do in caves."
"Have you had a lot of experience in caves?"
"No."
"Then how do you know?"
"Because maybe I have an imagination."
"Noah Puckerman having an imagination. Can't imagine that. Get it?"
"Why do you use my full name?"
"Emphasis."
"You're an odd chick."
"That wasn't obvious?"
"Not really. At first, you just seemed like a freak who wanted to speak but couldn't, so she did so with her wardrobe."
"Interesting theory. And now?"
"You're odd."
"Ah."
"We still don't have a song."
"We have two weeks."
"I have things to do."
"Really?"
"Really."
Back to the start.
Puck kept glancing at Tina throughout the day, now. She never seemed to talk, being absorbed in her own thoughts. Her locker was neat and clean(seriously? Who had a clean locker in high school?). She seemed to be in love with Mike, leaning close and holding hands. Harmoniously, like two notes on a page. Damn, now he was getting poetic. He was confused. Even though he was sort of fuck buddies with Santana, he was...single. Damn. He needed a girl, and fast.
Rachel, of course.
She was now single, due to the fact of her and his tongue party.
And she was busy humming to herself in front of her locker.
Just one one-liner, and she would be furiously Frenching with her.
"Don't."
One word. He turned around.
"What do you want, Kurt?" he asked.
Kurt Hummel brushed his hair with his fingers. "I'm warning you. Finn and Rachel broke up. She's on rebound. Perfect opportunity, right?"
"Right..."
"Wrong! Perfect opportunity equals a whole lot of drama. I'm pretty sick of drama, honestly."
"What? How could that cause drama?"
"Okay, let's think. You woo Rachel, she agrees, going out with you. But she's still in love with Finn, who's in love with her partially, so he needs to fill the hole. He goes to Santana. They...do...something, and it means absolutely nothing, but nonetheless, it happens, so guess what? Rachel's jealous. She sings a horrendous song, probably by awful Taylor Swift, and then you're screwed, Rachel and Finn are a lovey dovey bad couple, and Santana is the same. You're single again. No problems have been solved, and Rachel and Finn are back together. They are the most annoying couple ever, because Finn talks endlessly about her at home. I have to deal with that. I DO NOT WANT TO LISTEN TO A RACHEL BERRY TAYLOR SWIFT, AND I DO NOT WANT TO HAVE TO DEAL WITH MORE DRAMA! DO NOT GO OUT WITH RACHEL!" Kurt said, all in one breath. Puck stood there, frozen.
"Okay, I will not go out with Rachel."
"Good," Kurt said, turning on his heel and leaving. (a/n: I have predicted the second half of season two right there, people.).
Now what?
He's single.
He needs a girl.
Life totally sucks.
Oh god, does everyone have to kiss in the middle of the hallway?
He slams his locker, leaving the hallway, every non-popular kid quivering in their batman underwear.
Tina watched as Mike went off to football, a dreading knot getting tighter in her stomach. Mike gone meaning Tina had to walk home from school to get home. Meaning those large chunks of frozen water were about to hit her. Normally, Tina wouldn't have really minded. But now it was just tedious. She sighed, pulling up her hoodie and taking a step out into the cold. And it was cold. It pierced her body, making her shiver a bit. Her thin hoodie only provided minimal warmth, like paper trying to block rain. Tomorrow, she's bringing her black umbrella. For now, it was shivering madness until she got to her empty house.
"Get in," a rough voice came from the road. Tina was off to the sidewalk, looking up at the beat up Ford truck as Puck leaned back against the seat. Snowflakes were starting to block her vision, and she briefly wondered if this was a hallucination, and poor Tina was passed out on the parking lot right now.
"No," Tina said, thinking that Puck was about to murder her for standing up to him.
"Tina," he started, using her real name. "Get in. I'm not letting you walking home, my mom would kill me for letting a damsel be in distress, no matter how scary looking you are. And goddamn, tomorrow don't wear a skirt. That's completely ridiculous."
Tina stared at him, his arms hanging out the window, completely nonchalant.
"B-but..."
"Tina. Get. In."
"O-o-kay."
As she was climbing in, he said, "Didn't know the stutter was back."
"I-it's not." Then, realizing. "It's not," she said more firmly.
Then they drove down the road, snow still pounding on the sidewalk like drums. Drums that echoed in her ears, signs of impending doom. Or impending nothingness. Right now, it was just snow. And that was more terrifying than anything.