1:51PM
Puck studied his drawing intently before turning his gaze back at his subject. Flipping his pencil to the eraser side, he pressed it against the image's breast and scrubbed until all that was left was a pile of rubber confetti. Turning the pencil back to the page he replaced the discarded body parts with a much larger substitute. Puck brought his eyes back to Rachel and then the doodle and nodded in approval. He would have to give the sketch to Finn for when he was shopping for plastic surgeons to help out Rachel with her issues.
Across the library, Santana sank into a chair across from Kurt. "Look I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings or whatever. We were just playing a game and I was trying to make it interesting. It's not like it was anything personal."
Kurt looked at her with his usual pretentious glare. "Your sincerity is delightful," he said dryly. Puck rolled his eyes. That was sincere for Santana. In fact, he was pretty sure that was the first time he heard her issue an apology to anyone before.
Santana leaned forward onto her elbows. "So why are you in detention?"
Kurt looked at her with his usual disinterest. "I told you, I said 'bitch' in class."
"I have like the ultimate cable package so I've seen every teenage drama series since 1987," Santana said leaning forward further until her chest was nearly flat against the table. "Degrassi, 90210," she paused and cocked a brow. "Dawson's Creek. You lifted your excuse off The Breakfast Club rip off episode."
"Your point?" He said in defeat.
"What could Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes have done wrong to get stuck in here for an entire day?" She asked.
Kurt looked at Puck nervously and then back to Santana. "Stashed a flare gun in my locker?"
Puck pressed his lips together tightly, he wouldn't tell, would he? His hand clenched in a fist and he made sure that Kurt could see it.
"Nice try," Santana laughed.
Puck's heart was racing. He traced his fingers across his neck but couldn't remember where he was supposed to find his pulse point. Maybe he was claustrophobic or something. Or he was getting cabin fever. Whatever happened when you were trapped, imprisoned. He needed to get out, he needed to escape, he needed a drink to calm his damn nerves.
He shot up from his chair, checked the library for security cameras or snipers even before he kicked open the door into the hallway. He checked both ways, just like his mother always taught him. The coast was clear.
"What do you think you're doing?" Rachel demanded folding her arms over her chest.
Puck hooked a thumb over his shoulder, "There's nobody out there. Not a soul."
"Mr. Schuester told us not to move," Finn joined in on the choir of annoying. "He'll be really pissed at us if we leave."
"Yeah," Puck replied dryly. "I'm sure there's a great Journey song out there for him to express his disappointment in us with."
"Fine," Rachel said with a shrug. "Enjoy spending the rest of your natural born life in Saturday detention then."
"Look, I'm not saying we should jump ship or go on the lamb or anything. I'm just suggesting that we go on a little field trip. He'll never know we were gone."
Finn found his way back from the land of the losers. "What did you have in mind?"
Puck grinned, "I may have something in my locker that will make the rest of this lame party a little more party and a lot less lame."
Santana was the first one by his side, obviously. Finn pushed back his chair from the table he sat at and stood slowly, loyalty still did exist. Kurt chewed his lip nervously before finally giving into peer pressure, good for him. This just left Rachel, who sat in her seat stubbornly.
"You coming?" Puck asked.
She narrowed her eyes. "At the threat of additional disciplinary action? No thank you."
"We're not going to get caught," he said suavely. "Trust me; I slip beneath the watchful radar of the school system all the time."
"Then why are you in detention?" She countered.
He frowned, she had a point. "Have fun doing jazz squares or whatever losers do when they're being lame and decidedly not badass."
With that Puck pushed through the door with the rest of his gang on his heels. The hallway was silent except for the patter of their footsteps until he heard the creak of a door. Crap. They all darted into the nearest door jam.
The footsteps approached. It was Rachel. There was a collective sigh shared by all.
"This couldn't be Rachel Berry," Puck said snidely.
"Shut it, Puckerman," she bit back.
Puck laughed to himself as he continued the way to his locker. Spinning the dial of the lock to the practiced numbers, he pulled the door open. Rachel and Kurt gasped at the sight of all the nudie clippings taped in the door. "Hot, right?" He said with a wink.
Fishing through his locker he pulled out a liter of Jack Daniels.
"Awe-some," Santana sang and snatched the bottle to inspect it. "Where'd you get this?"
"I lifted it off Mr. St Pierre after he sliced his thumbs off and the medics were carting him away. It was hidden behind like forty bottles of Robitussin."
"Robo-tripping is the coolest," Santana agreed.
"We're not twenty one," Rachel said in shock. "We can't drink that. That's illegal."
"Oh get off your high horse," Santana said with the roll of her eyes.
"It's reprehensible!"
"Shh," Finn hushed closing his hand over Rachel's mouth. "Did you hear that?"
Puck closed his locker softly and took a few gentle steps down the hall. He crept around the corner to listen more closely. Finn stepped carefully beside him. The squeaking sound of wheels turning grew louder. "Is it the janitor?" Finn whispered.
A janitors cart appeared at the end of the hall with a familiar figure pushing it.
"Figgins!" Puck whispered in panic, pushing Finn out of the way to dart down the hall. Finn was quickly on his heels and although the others weren't sure why they should, they took off running as well. Rounding a corner, Puck froze when he saw Mr. Schuester halfway down the hall polishing some cheerleading trophies.
"Hold up," he said through gritted teeth, catching Finn before he jumped out into viewing range. Santana and Kurt kept running though, clearing the hall before Mr. Schue could notice.
Santana checked over her shoulder to see Puck, Finn, and Rachel trapped on the other side of the hall and pointed a mocking finger at them. The library was a clear shot for them, only a few doors away.
Puck flashed Santana his best, bitch please, face.
Santana lifted the bottle of Jack to her mouth and pretended to drink from it before offering a sweet wave. Leave no man behind my ass, he thought to himself.
"We'll have to double back and take the long way past the gym," Puck said as quietly as he could.
"We're going to get caught, and we're going to get expelled," Rachel said nearly in tears.
"You're kidding right?" Puck wanted to laugh. "We'll get a strict talking to tops."
This didn't seem to calm her nerves.
"We'll be fine," Finn smiled sweetly and took her hand in his. "Come on." Barf.
They were just about to pass the gymnasium when they heard another set of footsteps. Squinting into the shadows they saw it was Coach Sylvester. Puck pushed them into the nearest door jam, sandwiching Rachel between him and Finn.
Puck looked down at the perky brunette pressed between them and then up to Finn. "Hot," he mouthed to him. Finn nodded his head in agreement.
Puck pretended to tap Rachel in the ass and Finn chuckled.
"What's going on," Rachel asked in a paranoid tone. "Is he putting gum in my hair?" She asked wiggling her entire body against them as she tried to glance over her shoulder.
Finn let out a restrained grunt, he was such an amateur. "No, he's not doing anything," he said tightly.
Puck stuck out his tongue and pretended to stick it in her ear. Finn narrowed his eyes in a stern "dude!" manner.
"Coach Sylvester cannot find out that Finn and I are stepping out on detention. We're already on her radar; if she catches us she'll end the glee club for sure!" Finn and Rachel looked at Puck expectantly.
"Wait. Hold up." Puck said now that he was in a corner. "You want me to sacrifice myself for the glee club?"
Finn shrugged, "She has a point. Ms. Sylvester doesn't even know you're in detention and she doesn't seem to have a problem with you. In fact, I think she might kind of like you."
He took offense. "Obviously. Look at me, I'm a stud."
"And that's why we need your help, man. You've got this."
Puck groaned and slowly began to out from the doorway. Finn threw up the rock horns with his pointer and pinky fingers, dragged them across his tongue, and swiped each finger across corresponding eyebrows before directing the gesture to Puck.
Puck mirrored the salute with a stone face. He remembered teaching "the move" to Finn when they were eleven because he was convinced it would get them more chicks. Of course now Puck knew that it was totally lame and didn't work at all, Finn obviously had yet to get the memo.
Puck took a deep breath. "Coach Sylvester," he said plastering a grin across his lips. "Just the person I was looking for."
She glared at him. "I'm sorry, I'm not sure who you are and I don't care to find out."
He chose to ignore this and took a step closer to put an arm around her and steer her gaze away from his hiding friends. "I just changed my protein powder brand and wanted to see if it had a positive effect on my guns," he said flexing his arms.
"I'm going to have to interrupt you there because your ridiculous hairstyle resembles the pubic hair of an attention seeking adult magazine model whose absentee father has led her on a tailspin of self destruction."
Puck narrowed his eyes. "But…" he was at a loss for words.
"I'm going to walk away now," she said turning on her heels to leave.
Last time he helped out a "friend," he fumed as he stomped the rest of the way to the library. Nobody insulted Puckasaurus and got away with it. He pushed his way through the doors of the library ready to chew Finn out.
"Here man," Finn said extending an airplane cup full of Jack. "Saved the first shot for you."
Puck grudgingly took the glass; he could never turn down a good drink. "You owe me," he said pointing a finger to his chest. "Big time."
"Cheers, dude," he said clinking cups and throwing back the whisky. And as was with most dudes, all was forgiven. "Come on," he nodded his head over his shoulder.
Kurt, Santana, and Rachel sat on the floor in a circle with cups spread out in front of them. Kurt cracked open a can of Diet Coke and began dividing it evenly. Puck cringed. Worst Jack and Coke ever.
"This is a terrible, terrible idea," Rachel said picking up the cup to inspect the contents. She took a quick sniff of the liquid. "It smells like some sort of cleaning product."
Finn took a seat beside her, "Just try it. It totally starts tasting better after a while."
"I just want to make it clear that I am very against this," she emphasized before she took a sip and immediately started coughing. Finn handed her the cup of Coke to wash it down. "Is it supposed to burn?"
Puck took a seat next to Santana, "That's the best part."
"Here," Finn said snatching both cups and pouring the alcohol into the soda. "It's easier to drink when you mix them together."
She smiled warmly. "Thanks, Finn."
Puck threw back another shot and let the warm liquid burn down his throat. Who needed singing and dancing about your feelings when you could numb them with a nice and friendly bottle?
He poured everyone another shot and before he knew it Finn was on his feet. When it came to alcohol, Finn was a notorious light weight to disastrous and hilarious effects. He began to stomp his foot to what Puck assumed was some sort of beat.
"Well I ain't seen my baby since I don't know when,
I've been drinking bourbon, whiskey, scotch and gin
Gonna get high man I'm gonna get loose," he sang.
Kurt was the next on his feet to join in. "Need me a triple shot of that juice
Gonna get drunk don't you have no fear."
Puck threw his head back and shut his eyes. This was too embarrassing to watch. They were drinking whiskey he wanted to shout. Whiskey.
Rachel, obviously, was the next one on her feet. "I want one bourbon, one scotch and one beer
One bourbon, one scotch, one beer." They were shouting now as they danced around the room.
Kurt pulled out his MacBook and suddenly music was blaring through the library. Puck considered slipping the electronic into his backpack but opted for another shot of Jack instead. Santana and Rachel jumped onto a table and danced around, Santana's Cheerio skirt flapping around wildly as she moved. Kurt hoisted himself onto a bookshelf and kicked his legs to the beat. Puck's eyes scanned the room and landed on Finn, who may or may not have been impersonating an epilepsy victim.
"What's going on in here?"
Puck snatched the Jack and hid it under his tee shirt.
"Mr. Schue!" Rachel chirped as she jumped from the table and caught his arms to steady herself. "We were rehearsing a number for glee club!"
Puck smiled tightly and nodded his head in agreement.
"You're in detention," Mr. Schuester said, oblivious to the smell of liquor running pungent through the air, probably from all the cleaning products he was inhaling all day. "I appreciate you helping out with glee assignments, but please keep it down. You're not supposed to be having fun. This is supposed to be disciplinary."
"Don't worry Mr. Schue, we won't make another peep," Puck said, still cradling the body tightly against his chest. "We promise."
Mr. Schuester backed out slowly, giving them one last warning glare before slipping out the door. Kurt waited for the door to slip shut before hitting play on his laptop again. Everyone returned to singing and dancing except for Santana who's eyes grew dark as they turned to Puck's direction.
She crawled towards Puck and placed a hand on his thigh, "I am totally buzzed."
He grinned and took a quick swig of whiskey straight from the bottle while he calculated what corner of the library they could run off to.
Happy New Year!