Author's Notes: Sorry for the delay. I am working on fixing the mistakes in the first three chapters (once I figure out how to re-upload—anyone know if I can do that without deleting comments?). Thanks to [Kully] for clarifying which day the Sabbath is on. I corrected the file, but I'm afraid to upload again. I've decided to remove the NONCON warning from this story the direction its going has no room for that particular plot development. I am working on a different story (Inspired by the GLEE Kink Meme) that I hope to post sometime soon. This will be a short chapter…but more will be coming soon- Enjoy.

She hated bringing people to her house. There was always the possibility that Daddy would be away by the time she got home. And she never knew what type of mood her father would be in. Alan never did anything out of the ordinary when other people were over. He'd never tarnish his pristine reputation. He'd smile, and joke with whoever came to visit (on the rare occasion someone actually did) and he'd punish her the moment their company safely left the neighborhood.

It had been three weeks since she'd started "tutoring" Noah. If that's what she could call it. She'd discovered that Noah was actually proficient in Calculus. She tried early on to give him hints and shortcuts; but wound up checking her already marked homework against his. She usually didn't have to make many corrections. When she suggested he just give her all of his homework to check after he'd finished it, he claimed he wouldn't get it done with all the distractions he'd have elsewhere. It had taken them trial and error to sync their schedules. They had to coordinate her ballet, his impromptu weight training and sports activities her community play rehearsals; glee. They usually met at seven and were usually finished by nine. She already made him a "catch up calendar" that he seemed to be seriously following. She couldn't help but wonder what kind of student he would be if he applied even half the effort he was now with his catch up work.

"Would you quit doing that?"

She looked up.

"Doing what?"

"Clicking your ink pen. It's distracting."

She hadn't noticed.

"Sorry."

"What are you doing anyway?"

He swiveled the desk chair to face her, his chewed pencil still nudged in the corner of his mouth.

"Must you do that?"

"Sorry, oral fixation." He grins, tucking the mangled writing utensil behind his ear.

She rolls her eyes.

"Well it's unsanitary, Noah, and it's quite annoy-"

"Annoying, yea, so is your constant ink pen clicking. Stop trying to change the subject. What are you doing? Writing in your diary? Can I see?"

"No! I'm doing homework." She lied.

"Well, let me see, I'm in a learning kind of mood."

"No…I'm not finished."

He gets up then, sitting down beside her on her bed. She tries to close her notebook before he has a chance to snatch the piece of loose leaf from her binder. She fails.

"Noah! I demand you to return my property at once!" He's holding it above his head, backing away from her bed, his height advantage infuriating her.

She stands, her arms crossed, foot tapping impatiently on plush carpet.

"Noah…"

There's an edge in her voice that makes him think twice, but he decides to ignore the warning, reading what's on the paper out loud.

"These wounds sting less than the words you use to strike down my confidence. The cooing over bruises after you've beaten me into silence contradicts the kisses you leave on this burning flesh; this aching evidence. Don't tell me that you love me…because my body won't believe it. Don't threaten me with promises, just so I can keep your secrets…"

His monotonous reading voice fades with the last line, his furrowed brow musing over what he had just read. His eyes rise to meet hers uncertainly.

"Is this a song?" He asks after a few moments of silence pass between them.

She switches her weight from her left foot to her right, uncertain if she should answer him.

"No it's a poem. And you butchered the cadence."

"…Oh. Is it, like, a metaphor? Or should I take it literally?"

"All poets are liars, Puckerman. Don't read too much into it. It's artistic license."

He raises both hands in mock surrender, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Puckerman? Is that smack talk, Berry?"

She rolls her eyes, snatching the piece of paper from him as she walks over to where his homework is.

"Are you keeping up with your current homework? This will all be pointless if you're not keeping up. Are you even going to class, Noah?"

He extends his thumb acutely from his other fingers, rotating his neck and rolling his eyes. He's motioning the repetitive opening and closing of her mouth. She playfully slaps his hands away.

"All I need is a C. I did the averages, if I just do the catch up work I'll end up with a 71."

"Such high aspirations you have, Noah."

He shrugs.

The door downstairs opens and closes, and she can hear her father's heavy footsteps. He'd known Noah would be there so he came straight to her room.

"Hello Noah, how's the homework coming along?"

"Pretty good, almost through half of it."

"Good, good." He turns to Rachel.

"Daddy's leaving tomorrow. We're going out for dinner and a show. We will be back late, Ray, so no company past ten. Daddy and I will be back by midnight."

He kisses her forehead like most fathers who love their daughters do; and leaves.

LATER

She'd fallen asleep after coaxing the ever persuasive Noah Puckerman from in front of her father's 42 inch screen plasma television set. She lay on her bed, staring at some indiscriminate patch of her ceiling and dozed to sleep…only realizing her coherence when the front door slammed with rattling force.

"Why must everyone be flirting with me, Alan? Why can't people say hello without them having an ulterior motive?"

There was a thud, a crash.

She could imagine her Daddy shaking his head dismissively in the negative.

"You were all over him Jonah! I can't believe you want me to believe you weren't flirting with the little trollop!"

Alan was slurring his words; you could hear his body bumping into immovable objects, the counter, the couch, her Daddy.

"Oh go lie down Alan. I don't feel like this tonight."

"Fine." Defeat laced with what she was sure was tequila.

She listened to him tumble up the stairs, tripping into the bathroom and slamming the door behind him. She heard him sobbing, and soon after, the breaking of the bathroom vanity mirror…shattering onto their marble floor tiles.

It would be a long week. Especially with her Daddy gone.

She tried her best to fall asleep again.

End Chapter Four.