5 Things That Could Have Happened If Mr Schuster

by Lady Chronic

... Quit Glee and Became an Accountant. Now complete, ALL CHAPTERS POSTED. Some of these are happy, some are sad. Note special warning on Ch 4. Features all 12 Glee kids, Emma Pillsbury and Mr. Shue. Sorry Coach Sylvester -- I couldn't do you justice.

2. Class

Disclaimer: These characters don't belong to me.

II: Class

Mr. Rondell is talking about covalent bonds. Mercedes turns to a new page in her notebook and tries to concentrate. She didn't really get this concept in the chapter they were supposed to read last night. She'd better understand now or she'll bomb the midterm.

She re-crosses her legs, and as one thigh presses against the bottom surface of the desk, something snags at her tights. Mercedes ducks her head to look. It's used chewing gum -- not completely fossilized, but fresh and tacky. "Ugh!"

"Gross," says Brittney in a sympathetic stage whisper, leaning across the aisle. "Hey. I hear they had to fire half the janitors. Budget cuts."

They're lab partners because of their assigned seats -- they would never talk outside of class -- but Mercedes thinks she's pretty OK. She rolls her eyes. "This school is so ghetto."

Brittney nods and maybe would have said something else, but at this point it becomes impossible for them both not to notice that Santana Lopez is turned backwards in her chair and is giving her friend an evil look.

She moves her lips without speaking: Why are you talking to that cow?

Brittney shakes her head, obviously not getting it. Mercedes has always suspected that the girl is not very smart. She pretends to read over her notes while Santana mouths the words a second time.

Carbon forms 2 naturally occurring covalent network solids. She draws a bullet point. Graphite. Ignore them, her mom says. Mercedes isn't sure if she thinks that's good advice or not -- it depends on her mood -- but everyone already knows she could take Santana Lopez, and she is not going to the vice-principal's office again this year. She draws another bullet point. Diamond.

Brittney seems to have caught at least the import of the message, because her eyes are fixed on the blackboard, where Mr. Rondell is drawing a picture of electrons or neutrons or some nonsense.

It seems like, for a minute, she'd forgotten the rules.

Mercedes examines the string of pale gum extending from the desk to her black knit tights. Now her whole outfit is ruined. She clicks her mechanical pencil until the lead is longer than it has to be and touches it with the very tip, wondering who would do that anyway. Some people, she thinks, have no manners.