So here's what you missed from last time on Glee:
Dalton Johnson is super popular, but he still joins New Directions. However, he isn't terribly reliable for PR appearances because he's going to great lengths to keep his twin sister, Cheerio Mean Girl Jennifer, from finding out since she's apparently got a huge secret on him.
Quinn Fabray's little sister is Caroline, and like big sis she's got confidence in spades, but since she's not a Cheerio but is a Gleek, Head Cheerio Nikki and Dalton's sister (yeah, that sister) aren't interested in sharing their spot on the ladder.
Katie made a deal with Carter that she'd pretend to date him if he kept the other jocks from picking on the Gleeks, but she still can't stand him; but on the plus side she confides all of this to Dylan and now they have something to talk about.
Stassi and Hayley are still fighting, and still kissing—seriously, what up with that?
Liam, Andrew, and Teddy are all huge AV geeks, and are determined to make an awesome documentary for an independent film festival.
Annie still likes blind sophomore Hayden, but her friends have pointed out she might want to try to get to know him a little better before throwing him to the wolves that is the general WMHS population.
Meanwhile, Emma and Ashwin were the perfect super couple, but looking great on paper didn't apply to the changes that seemed to take place to both of them recently, so they decided that even though they were best friends they weren't going to be boyfriend/girlfriend anymore.
And that's what you missed on Glee!
A/N: so sorry about the stretch of silence—co-writers Caroline Idina Fabray and ray4ruffles came up with huge writer's block (you wouldn't think between the two of us it was possible, but these things happen). But we're back now, so everything's okay.
A/A/N: Song featured is Johnny Cash's "A Boy Named Sue"
It was a crisp autumn day as a pair of gold kitten heels hit the pavement of William McKinley High School's parking lot. The girl pressed her hands down her pencil skirt, attempting to smooth out the invisible wrinkles as she inhaled deeply, then began making her way toward the building.
As she reached the dumpsters, Katie Bennet cleared her throat loudly, drawing the attention of a group of jocks tossing a poor kid into the bin.
The majority of the boys, after a quick glance, returned to their torture, but Carter Macy stepped away from the others and jogged toward her, murmuring a quick excuse to his buddies.
"Is that really necessary?" she asked him quietly as they walked toward the entrance.
"Uh, yeah," he replied. "I said I'd call off the guys on your Gleetards, but we've got an image to maintain. It's called a hair-archy."
"It's hierarchy," she corrected him irately, wanting to slam her head against a wall for agreeing to do this in the first place. "So what's the plan?"
"My sister comes to town this Thursday; the wedding's in two weeks," he informed her. "You show up, you don't say anything stupid, and your friends don't have to worry about slushie facials from my guys for a while."
They stepped into the hallway together and Katie looked around at her peers. "What about during school?"
Carter looked at her quizzically. "What about it?"
"Do we tell people we're friends? We're dating?" she clarified.
"God no," he spat, his expression sickened. "You think I want to be known as the guy who hangs out with the losers from Homo Explosion?" He looked at her incredulously. "Look, you just hang out with your people, and I'll hang out with mine, okay?"
With that he turned back to the parking lot, probably to go harass some other poor underclassman, and Katie muttered, "Best idea I've heard all day."
"First day as a couple not going so well?" a voice asked from behind her. She turned to see Dylan walking shyly forward, and she smiled and waved.
"God, I think he's actually worse up close," she laughed, and they began walking down the hall toward her locker. "I swear, I don't know why I agreed to do this."
"Because you're a really nice, selfless person," he told her, reddening as she looked at him with a shy smile.
"Thanks," she replied, turning her head to her locker to look busy with the combination until her face returned to its normal color. "I guess it's not so bad though," she continued. "He doesn't want to be seen with me at school—he just wants to pretend we don't even know each other."
Facing her back, Dylan shook his head in disbelief: if he were the guy dating Katie Bennett, he'd probably announce it over the speaker, put up posters—maybe hire someone with a spotlight to follow them around.
Katie turned to look at him just then, so he quickly nodded his head in agreement with her assessment. He watched as the boy in question entered the school with his buddies and they strutted down the hall. Carter glanced at her a moment before casting a menacing glare at some poor boy ten feet away.
Katie sighed and rolled her eyes, causing her gaze to shift to a gaggle of Cheerios plus one making their way down the hall. She and Caroline met eyes for a moment before the girls passed her by.
"You two still fighting?" the shaggy-haired boy asked. Katie nodded. "You know, I don't know what's going on with you guys, but you're both miserable." He glanced at the retreating forms. "Assuming she didn't destroy your life, maybe you could give her a break?"
Katie didn't say anything, because while she could have argued last week that Caroline might have in fact possibly destroyed her chance at happiness with Dylan, now—well, wasn't Dylan standing here, talking to her at this very moment? Yes, they were just friends, but she still felt they were getting close: she'd even told him her huge secret about Carter.
"Maybe you're right," she said to him thoughtfully. She touched his shoulder softly, then made a quick pirouette as she shut her locker and raced after her friends.
The bell for lunch finally rang, and Jennifer raced through the halls, blonde hair flying as she desperately sought out the Queen Bee of the school. She didn't even acknowledge that loser Stassi as she made her way out of an empty classroom, simply barreling through her as she spotted Nikki walking ten feet away.
The girl slowed, taking a quick breath to compose herself as she caught up to the other, matching her stride with a smile and "Nikki, hi. So, my parents are going out of town and I was thinking of having a party this weekend—"
The rest of her sentence was stuck in her throat as she caught the flash of fury in her Captain's eyes as they turned on her. Jennifer's steps stumbled to a stop, flinching under the gaze and terrified about the wrath she imagined was about to be unleashed.
The next moment, however, the Asian girl's face composed itself, smirking in deviance. She took ahold of the sophomore and led her to the bathroom, shutting the door quickly behind her.
"Nikki?" the younger girl asked in terror. "Is something wrong?"
"Oh Jennifer," the Captain replied, sighing as she clasped her hand on the Cheerio's shoulder. "In so many ways." The rich girl said nothing, so she continued, "As you know Jenn, I'm in the middle of a sort of…minor dispute with my former right hand. A sort of uprising that simply needs to be quashed. And I've been searching for loyal, exemplary followers to help my cause."
"I'm extremely loyal," the blonde insisted. "I would never be caught dead supporting that loser Fabray, or having anything to do with Schue's Loser Brady Bunch. You can count on me, Nikki."
The other girl pressed her lips together before her expression turned into a sad smile. "I wish I could, Jennifer—you would have made a powerful ally and friend." She clucked her tongue as she reached into her bag. "However, I'm afraid that there is a problem that questions your loyalties to the Cheerios." She handed the girl the folder she'd retrieved.
Jennifer looked in horror at the contents of the file. "No," she squeaked out, looking to the HBIC desperately. "You can't believe I ever was part of this."
"Weeks have gone by Jennifer, and I'm supposed to believe you weren't aiding and abetting, if not actually involved?"
"No—no Nikki!" the girl all but sobbed hysterically. "I can fix this, I can talk to somebody—"
"I'm sorry, Jennifer, but at this stage we just can't afford any potential conflicts of interest," Nikki told her. "Until this nasty business is resolved, I simply can't support your position on the hierarchy."
With that, the dark-haired girl shot the blonde a saccharine sympathetic look and strolled out of the restroom.
Dalton sat with Roxie during lunch, reveling in their moment alone. It didn't happen much anymore: Wally recently seemed to get her non-communication, and as she became comfortable with him, he continually seemed to be hanging around. She didn't talk much around Wally (maybe because she didn't need to), but, without speaking badly of his friend, Dalton couldn't help but feel that he was running out of time.
"So, how was Art?" he asked, knowing that it was the girl's favorite class and one of the easiest ways to get her to talk.
Roxie smiled softly, swallowing her bite of fettuccini as she nodded. "We're working on pop art this week," she told him. "The colors and eccentricity are fun."
"It must remind you of fashion," he commented, feeling proud of himself while he watched her grin grow as she nodded, reaching over to her bag.
"I've actually got some sketches I put together—" she began, but a loud stomping distracted them both.
"I can't believe you!" Jennifer screamed at her brother, throwing the folder in front of him. "I just thought you were gay—then I could have just had you wait until college to be a fag. But this?"
Dalton opened the folder in puzzlement, his eyes going wide in surprise when the paper on top was a photo of him in Glee, smiling as he stood frozen in mid-stride and mouth open in song.
"And as if that wasn't enough—being an utter loser with those freaks—you had to be with her?"
The ash blonde opened his mouth to protest—the whole school knew that he and Stassi had been dating, why would that have caused any more trouble than it did last week?—but Jennifer slammed her hand down on another picture, pointing furiously at her brother standing by the door of a classroom, face exceptionally close to that of a brunette in trendy vintage clothes…
"Mini-Quinn, Dalton?" she demanded lividly, pointing again at the glossy paper. "You could have had someone great, one of the elite, like Nikki Hardy, but instead you decided to slum it with Mini-Quinn?" She huffed. "What? You realized you want to experience the joy of being someone's Baby Daddy in high school?"
"Hey," Wally cut in, as he, Coby, Crash, and Ashwin made their way to the table. "Let's cool this down. What's the problem Jenn?"
Jennifer's eyes glared at everyone around her as she continued to unleash without restraint at her brother. "You've ruined me—Nikki's never going to look at me the same way again; none of them will," she cried miserably. "All I've ever asked was for you to be my big brother and look out for me, the way I always do for you."
Wally watched the wretched expression on the blonde's face and sensed trouble. "Hey," he said lowly as he crossed over to the Cheerio. "Whatever is going on, I'm sure that's not true." The sophomore sniffled as he wrapped an arm around her. "You've got all the staying power of ten Cheerios, Jenn," he told her. "I'm sure you can win everyone over again just fine without Dalt."
"Yeah, until she opens her mouth again," Coby told Ashwin under his breath. Unfortunately, not quietly enough, as the Cheerio's eyes flashed up at the boys again and she stepped away from the hypnotic embrace of Walter Ryan Devlin.
"You've destroyed everything I have ever wanted in this world," she told him, and Dalton heard the desperation in her voice, saw the recklessness in her eyes, and wished like hell they were either alone or he could simply knock her unconscious, because he realized what was coming. "All to be a loser? Well fine: you, LESLIE DALTON JOHNSON, can go ahead and be the biggest gloser in McKinley High School."
A sudden hush came over the room, and Jennifer turned to address the crowd. "That's right!" she shouted maliciously. "His real name is Leslie! He should have been a loser from day one!"
Her twin's face turned crimson as the cafeteria erupted into whispers and stares and pointing and…he stood up and ran, not even acknowledging his sister or his friends as he left the room as fast as his legs could carry him.
Roxie bravely glared at the girl, now flushed over her impulsive act, though attempting to stay spiteful. She stood and began to follow after her friend, with the boys quick on her heels.
Only Coby acknowledged the Cheerio, stopping to scoff, "Did you seriously just say Gloser?" before running after the others.
"My life is over," Dalton said numbly as the group sat in the Music Room. Everyone was watching him in concern, as if the boy they'd thought was untouchable by the social ladder was actually as fragile as a china doll.
Roxie put her hand on his shoulder, but he maintained a vacant stare. "I'm serious—I didn't make it thirty seconds without getting harassed today: I clocked it."
"It'll be okay man," Ashwin told him from a couple chairs over, and Emma beside him nodded in agreement.
"Really Dalton," she added. "It's bad today, but I bet everyone will forget by tomor—well, the end of the week, right?" she corrected when she noticed people staring at her skeptically.
Michelle felt it was her up to her, the most knowledgeable in the trends of the school, to speak up. "I don't know you guys," she said from behind Caroline. "Not to be Negative Nancy, but this is a big deal. Outting him as not only having a girl name, but being in Glee? The backlash could be bad."
"God, it's a name guys," Stassi spoke up in exacerbation. "I mean, yeah, your parents must have either really hated you or missed your Little Dalton when you were born, but it's not like you have webbed feet or a Rachel Berry fetish like some losers at this school."
"Amen," Annie agreed quietly.
"Stassi," the poor boy said suddenly, jerking out of his traumatized state. "Did you do this? You blackmailed me, and then told her anyways?"
The junior looked shocked and surprisingly insulted. "What?"
"You blackmailed him Typecast?" Hayley mocked. "And here I thought you could have anyone you wanted."
"Shut up Trickle," the Cheerio snapped. "Just because it's easier to blackmail a guy doesn't mean I don't have the skills to hook anyone at this school. As opposed to the multitudes of people who you couldn't pay to hang around your Joan Jett-posing ass."
"Seriously Stase—you told Jennifer?" Liam spoke up, steering back to the actual issue. "What—it's not bad enough to have her hate every person she knows is on this team because of your Nikki Attachment Disorder: you need Bimbo Barbie to make everyone else miserable too?"
"Whoa, back it up there," the Cheerio countered. "I didn't tell her anything—I don't know how she found out, but I sure as hell wasn't the one to spill the beans."
"Oh yeah? Then who was?" Everett demanded.
"Watch it, Garfunkle, before I show you just how troubled I can make your waters," she threatened, staring down the suddenly tongue-tied teammate.
"Guys, guys!" Mr. Schuester finally called out from in front of them. "It doesn't matter now who did what—we've just got to help Dalton move on and make the best of it. With that in mind, I think I've got this week's assignment." He began to write, and What's in a Name? appeared on the white board.
"For this week, I want you guys to go out and look at songs that are gender-neutral," he told them.
"You want us to find a song about Hermaphrodites?" Annie asked.
The class stared at her, and Will corrected, "No, Annie—I want you to pick songs with names that could be applied to guys or girls."
"Leslie is not a guy name," Dalton muttered angrily.
"You know what?" Dylan spoke up, standing next to the teacher. "As a gender-neutrally named guy myself, I think I know exactly which song sums up this entire situation." He nodded to the jazz band, and they began to play.
Dylan grinned and began, My daddy left home when I was three
And he didn't leave much to ma and me
Just this old guitar and an empty bottle of booze.
He walked over to Everett and put his hand on his shoulder, Now, I don't blame him cause he run and hid
But the meanest thing that he ever did
Was before he left, he went and named me "Sue."
Dylan continued as he weaved between the seats, Well, he must o' thought that is quite a joke
And it got a lot of laughs from a' lots of folk,
It seems I had to fight my whole life through.
Annie stood and laughed as he approached her, Some gal would giggle and I'd get red, he sang as he twirled her around
And some guy'd laugh and I'd bust his head, he pointed at Liam, who put his hands up in forfeit
I tell ya, life ain't easy for a boy named "Sue."
Dylan made his way back to the front, Well, it was Gatlinburg in mid-July
And I just hit town and my throat was dry,
I thought I'd stop and have myself a brew.
At an old saloon on a street of mud,
There at a table, dealing stud,
Sat the dirty, mangy dog that named me "Sue." he sang, pointing at Everett
The junior stood up and he and Ashwin began a country dancing duel of sorts while Dylan continued, I tell ya, I've fought tougher men
But I really can't remember when,
He kicked like a mule and he bit like a crocodile.
I heard him laugh and then I heard him cuss,
He went for his gun and I pulled mine first, as Ashwin knocked over the other boy
He stood there lookin' at me and I saw him smile.
Everett stood and he and Ashwin began some weird quickstep thing behind him.
And he said: "Son, this world is rough
And if a man's gonna make it, he's gotta be tough
And I knew I wouldn't be there to help ya along.
So I give ya that name and I said goodbye
I knew you'd have to get tough or die
And it's the name that helped to make you strong."
Dylan looked from one boy to the other, I got all choked up and I threw down my gun
And I called him my pa, and he called me his son, he sang as the three hugged and pushed away from each other
He looked at Dalton as he continued, And I came away with a different point of view.
And I think about him, now and then,
Every time I try and every time I win,
And if I ever have a son, I think I'm gonna name him…
The entire team shouted together, Bill or George! Anything but Sue!
Dylan raised his hands, and Ashwin and Everett high-fived him while the entire class burst into applause.
"Great job guys, that was perfect!" Mr. Schue laughed.
Dalton sat miserably in his chair.
Tuesday came, and Dalton was feeling the effects of his given name from every angle—you would have thought everyone at school hated him for all the flak he was getting. The Cheerios couldn't look at him without a mean spattering of giggles; the Jocks had taken to calling him Leslie (obviously), and asking if he never played football because he always wanted to try out for the cheerleading squad; even some of the braver wannabes were making pretty vicious jabs.
"When did I become the most hated guy at this school?" he asked Coby as they walked through the halls.
"You're not the most hated guy," his friend assured him. "You're still Richie Rich, the coolest guy here. You've just got a flaw now." He stuck out his hand. "Welcome to the club."
Dalton chuckled and took the junior's hand. At that exact moment, some Hockey Jock yelled out, "Coby, I thought you were gay—when did you get a girlfriend?"
Coby scoffed, "Wow; did it take you all day to think up that one?"
"Nope," the idiot replied. "I've had it since second period." The Neanderthals laughed and continued down the hall.
"You know what is weird though," Dalton commented as they continued to class. "The football team."
"They said something clever?"
"No," the sophomore replied. "That's the weird thing—they haven't said anything. It's been almost twenty-four hours, and not a single slushie or insult thrown my way." He looked at the brunette. "Did you do that?"
The husky boy laughed. "Seriously Burnsie? Like I have that kind of sway?" He laughed again and clasped his friend on the shoulder. "I don't know—maybe your ex Stassi pulled some strings." The boy shrugged. "She's got that kind of clout, I'd think."
Dalton sighed. "I don't know," he answered. "I just hope this hell ends soon."
Stassi had been in a sour mood all day. Talking to Nikki yesterday had been infuriating: listening to her friend talk down to her like she was a child. Throw in the Gleeks treating her like she was a narc and she'd fallen into a slump, picking at her newly done nails and spending the break out on the track doing laps to take care of the nausea she felt, probably from that extra quarter of Luna Bar she'd had during Chemistry.
She'd just changed back into her Cheerios uniform, slicking her hair back into a high pony, when a locker slammed shut behind her. The junior whirled around to see Hayley watching her with a devious smirk.
"What do you want?" she snapped at the sophomore, turning back to her own locker to finish packing it up.
"Nothing," the streaked maverick replied, a gloat in her tone. "I just wanted to see what it's like."
"What? To be a creepy groupie stalker?" Stassi retorted, glancing over her shoulder.
"To be so desperate to make someone jealous that you have to blackmail a guy," Hayley corrected with a smirk. "Which didn't work, by the way. I really could care less about your fake relationships."
"God you are like water to a sponge in your self-absorption," the Cheerio commented. "The purposes to which I used Dalton had nothing to do with you—why would they? You pretty much rank up there with less than nothing in my book."
"Oh yeah? Then why did you pick the one popular guy who just happens to be in Glee, where I am? Unless you really were just biding your time to dump it on Cheer Bimbo and ruin her and Dalton's life. I mean, I wouldn't put it past you, but that's kind of bitchy, even for you…"
Stassi slammed her locker shut and strode over to where the girl stood in her skinny jeans and strategically ripped tee. "This is the second time you've accused me of hiding from my actions, Drizzle," she accused heatedly. "And the second time you were wrong. I told you: when I'm responsible for a mess, I step forward."
Hayley continued to stare down the girl. "Then why date Dalton? Why not just screw some random Football dick?"
The Cheerio smirked. "Because if you want something, you're better off finding someone to control than compromise with."
"Oh come on, admit it, Ms. Perfect Control Freak. You kissed me—you have a thing for a chick and it kills you."
The other girl scoffed. "I may have kissed you, but I have no problem with my sexuality, whether it fits into high school norms or not. It may not be conventional, but I date people that make sense."
"And what does that make me?" the sophomore couldn't help but ask as the Armenian girl turned to walk away.
The question caused Stassi to pause, but she didn't turn back to the girl. She merely replied softly, "A complication." Her brown hair whipped around as she did, and she faced Hayley. "You're a loose cannon, Hayley, and that just doesn't fit in my world. You don't belong."
She turned back to walk away, and Hayley watched her go with a mixture of anger and frustration that she somewhat understood, as well as sadness in something she couldn't.
Caroline was happy that she and Katie were friends again—it had been a long week without the bubbly blonde, and it hadn't been the same without her.
"So," the friend in question whispered, ducking her head closer during their lull in French class. "I really want to tell you a secret, but you've got to promise you won't tell anyone."
"Not a soul, I swear," her friend replied earnestly, drawing an "X" over the breast pocket of her jacket in affirmation.
"Well," Katie drew closer still, lowering her voice so the brunette had to strain to hear. "You know how I started dating someone last week?" Caroline nodded. "Did you hear that Carter Macy started dating someone?" She nodded again—Michelle had been lamenting about the lack of insider knowledge all yesterday.
The two girls stared at each other, and finally the brunette asked, "So? What's the secret?"
Katie stared at her in disbelief. "Seriously?" she asked. "Think Care."
The brunette's face was half-scrunched in puzzlement when it suddenly went wide with clarity and revulsion. "What?" she hissed. "You're dating—?"
"Shhhh!" Katie hushed, glancing around to make sure no one was paying attention.
Caroline collected herself just barely. "Please tell me this is some sick joke," she begged her friend. When the girl merely averted her eyes, the youngest Fabray continued, "Why would you date him? We hate him."
"He's not…so bad," she just managed to get out, and Caroline could have sworn that she had to force the words to leave her mouth.
"Not so bad? He's slushied us at least once a week for the last month." The girl couldn't help it: she fidgeted with the buttons of her homemade mod-jacket, which she'd worn, despite the fear of it being colored with corn syrup today. "He's ruined some of my best clothes, and he's a total jerk! Why would you betray me and yourself like this?"
The blonde's eyes flashed up at the mention of betrayal. "You know what Caroline?" she whispered heatedly. "You have no right to talk to me about betrayal or tell me who I can or can't date right now—not after what happened with Dylan."
Caroline couldn't help it: she huffed slightly. "If this is your normal type I think I'd rather you were with a loser like Dylan," she replied.
"Dylan's not a loser," Katie snapped. "And I don't think I want to talk about this anymore."
"Fine with me," the other retorted, turning back to her textbook.
When the bell rang, Caroline stood instantly, gathering her things and heading to the door where Michelle was waiting for her. The blonde hesitated a moment, then hurried after her friend before she reached the exit.
"You promised you wouldn't tell, right?" she quietly asked in a fearful tone.
Caroline sighed and smiled reassuringly at her friend. "Of course," she said, giving the girl a squeeze. The blonde exhaled with relief, and moved forward to greet the Cheerio.
The brunette continued under her breath, "Like I'd ever want to bring this up."
"I just don't understand why he never told us," Coby said quietly while Nina mixed the concoction in their bowl. "I mean, right?"
His Home-Ec partner rolled her eyes, and Michelle leaned forward in front of them, propping her elbows on their table . "Seriously Coby?" she asked him. "If it were me, I would have legally changed my name years ago and sent subliminal messaging to make my sister forget." She whispered conspiratorially, "I heard the Hockey team slipped a dress into his locker."
"It'll be okay," Katie said from her table across the aisle. "Everyone's bound to move onto something more interesting eventually, right?"
"Like what?" Michelle asked incredulously. "This is probably the juiciest thing I've heard in weeks. It's like giving a steak to hyenas: they'll never let go."
"Everyone has their secrets," Nina asserted, answering Coby's original query. "It's what keeps us safe from each other. I'm not surprised that Dalton didn't want us to know his."
"But we're his friends; his family—"
"Seriously Chubs?" The pale girl stopped stirring momentarily to arch her eyebrow at her partner. "You're saying this as the guy who still brings me home for special occasions under the guise of being your girlfriend?"
"You're parents think you have a girlfriend?" Michelle repeated, mouth open in shock. "But you're like the gayest kid at school!"
"It's not like I'm Kurt Hummel," the junior countered. "I wouldn't know Vera Wang from Walmart if my life depended on it; nor do I care."
"But why—?" Katie asked.
Coby sighed. "I've got a Jewish mother, expecting little Jewish grandbabies toddling around the house someday. I could not break it to her that it's not likely to happen."
"Because there's no such thing as adoption or surrogacy," Nina murmured as she molded the mixture into bars onto the pan.
"I just mean conventionally," the Jock argued. "You know, like normal Jewish families do."
"So you're just going to wait until you find a guy to marry to drop that bomb on your parents?" Katie guessed.
"That's the plan," Nina supplied, placing the health bars into the oven. "So that his boyfriend/husband can forever be compared to 'that nice foreign girl'." She rolled her eyes.
Michelle looked confused. "You're foreign?" she asked.
"Bulgarian, Michelle: you knew this." The older Cheerio watched the cogs spin in the petite girl's brain, reprocessing the information and nodding.
"So the point is it doesn't matter that Dalton didn't tell us," the blond concluded. "What matters is we're there for him in whatever way we can be as long as he needs us."
"Which means doing what?" the boy asked.
"We could out someone else's secret," Michelle suggested. "Like who Carter Macy is secretly dating—I'm going crazy with this lack of knowledge."
"How is that a better secret?" Coby asked.
"Because he's not saying," Michelle replied. "He's not publicizing it in any way—which means it's someone outside of his circle."
"Does it really matter?" Katie asked, trying to hide the worry in her tone.
"Of course it matters—finding out who Carter is dating will shift the spotlight away from Dalton, and onto someone that should be the focus of everyone's disgust. God, that guy's a jerk." Michelle glanced over to see her partner's progress on their muffins, then turned her attention back to the group. "No worries guys—I'm on the case. I will fix everything for Dalton; you'll see."
The others nodded indulgently, and segued to a different topic. However, Katie felt worried: if anyone could dig up her and Carter's secret, it'd be Michelle Harrison, and if her target was the idiot Jock, their secret may be out by tomorrow.
Will watched Emma as she sat on the couch watching TV. She looked so calm, so beautiful, with her glowing face and rounded belly.
He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "You know Emma," he told her. "With the kid's assignment about names this week, maybe we should start really thinking seriously about what little Schue there is going to be when he gets out here."
Emma pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Hmmm," she said. "I admit, I've been thinking about this for several months, but nothing seems to fit right."
"How about Robert?"
"Oh no: I knew a boy in third grade named Robert. He was a horrible child, and he smelled like deviled ham."
"Michael?"
"No; it reminds me of that boy from the cereal commercials," Emma closed her eyes as she shuddered. "Something about his face was just disturbing." She smiled. "What about Joey?"
Will shook his head. "My Uncle Joe used to walk around in nothing but a bathrobe and his boxers—I really don't want that to be what people in my family think of when they see our son."
The two sat on the couch, offering up names back and forth and each having a reason to shoot them down.
Finally, the curly-haired teacher sighed. "Maybe we should sleep on it for tonight," he told her, kissing his wife's forehead. "We're not in a hurry; we can talk about it some more later, okay?"
Emma smiled and nodded. "Okay," she replied. "It's not like he's coming out now."
Will smiled and helped the red-headed love of his life to her feet, and they made their way to bed.