A/N: I know I said something about a Latina girl walking off the bus with a whole bunch of football players following her in the first chapter. I had this brought to my attention by somebody who had read this on another website, and I would like to point out that I didn't mean to write in that she was Emily. It was just supposed to be a joke that Puck took off after the first cute girl that stepped off the bus. Anyway, enjoy this chapter. It is Emily/Jesse centric. Don't forget to review! 3
~Mags
Whatever the thinking was with putting one insanely straight guy in a room with five insanely hot girls, he would never know, but he thanked god that the day had finally come. The freshmen who were coming in where getting more attractive by the second, and they were all ogling at him, since they recongnised him from his latest role as Munkustrap in the Broadway revival of CATS. Granted it had bombed, but everybody and their brother had flocked from Ohio to see it. Sadly, that just wasn't enough. He was reminescing about skin tight leotards and face paint, when one of the better looking sophomore girls that he had known had transferred from Washington Heights bounced up, cleavage on full display. He was almost in shock with everything about her. He knew they could use her.
"Are you Jesse?" she asked in an accent that was unmistakably Latina.
He stumbled to his feet, holding his hand out to greet her, "St. James," he said in one of his infamous seductive-yet-sensetive acts, "And who might this beautiful lady be?"
There was an indescribably red blush that enveloped the whole of her face and neck, as she shook his hand absently, "Emily Vasquez." she answered in a way that was somewhat inquisitive, "I had actually been asking who I needed to flirt with to get into the Show Choir. Tara told me that that would be you."
He released her hand and attempted the innocent smile, as he whispered, for her to hear only, "Well, it looks like I beat you to it." he pulled an arm around her waist carefully, pulling her close, but not awkwardly close, "Breadstix at eight?" he asked, and Emily nodded, breathless; in shock, "And don't worry about your audition. I can pull some strings with the instructor and we can get you a spot in the Chorus."
She was in utter shock, almost too much to say anything, when she finally stepped away, giving him a brisk hug and then vacating the auditorium.
She had not the slightest clue what she was getting herself into.
"So let me get this straight," Cameron was nearly choking on his own fury, "Even though we have the names of forty guys and 30 girls who would be willing to try out for a soccer team, and four adults willing to coach, we still can't have a soccer team?" he was practically screaming at Principal Figgins.
"There just isn't enough money in the system for another extra activity. I'm sorry, Mister Mitchell, but that is my final word, unless you wish to take it up with Coach Sylvester."
Not wanting to attempt a conversation with the homosidal cheerleading coach, Cameron took a step back and let Damian take the floor, "What if it wasn't a school thing. What if it was a community league and we just used the school's fields? I know we could still have the exact same coaches, the same amount of participation, and we could do some fundraisers and get the money for it. Could we do it if we did it that way?"
Figgins, never one to want to turn down a student with some amount of drive, just gave a groan, "You will have to fight the Cheerios for the field, but if you really want this, and if you can show me by the end of next month that you can sufficiently raise money for your programs on your own, then you can order your equipment through the school, and you will be permitted to hang sign-up sheets in the halls. If you can't get the amount you will need by the end of next month, though, you will not be permitted to start a soccer team, and this conversation will never come up again. Am I understood?" Both Damian and Cameron nodded, before exitting the office, to be hit in the face with two huge red slushies.
"What the Hell, Man?" Cameron yelled, grabbing Karofsky's shoulder and whirrling him around, finally realizing the size of the behemouth football player and his friend, who were both wearing lettermen jackets. Still, he figured that couldn't mean much in a town like Lima, and stood his ground.
"You two have been running around this school spreading your fairy dust since the first day, and I'm getting sick of it." Karofsky jeered, shoving Cameron into a locker.
"Lay off him, Karofsky." Damian groaned from his spot where he could have stood and watched the whole thing without being touched once, but a face full of slushie and the fact that his only American friend yet seemed to contradict the thought.
"Aw, you're boyfriend standing up for you, Specks?" Karofsky laughed sadistically, as he took a swing straight into Cameron's gut. If Damian hadn't seen the principal leave only moments before the confrontation started, he wouldn't have taken the flying leap, landing on Karofsky's back. Even though the two football players were substancially larger in stature than both of the skronny little soccer players, the two smaller boys were much more agile, and therefore were able to slip away, though Karofsky and his big black friend caught up to them, when they were attempting to jump-start Cameron's car in the parking lot, "Hey, Specks, check this out!" Karofsky chuckled as his friend held Cameron back, and Karofsky focused his current attack on Damian.
Exhausted from the sprint from one end of the school to the parking lot at the other end, Damian barely had any oxygen left in his body, and therefore couldn't fight back when Karofsky punched him square in the face, making him fall backwards and hit his head on the back of the car. He tried to scramble to his feet as he felt the blood fall, but was only rewarded with a punch to the gut, which knocked him to the ground again. After a couple more hits, he knew there was no hope of him getting back up until Karofsky had had his fill, and somehow he knew that wasn't going to be anytime soon.
"You are really out of practice, Sis!" Bryce laughed, as his sister, McKynleigh ran to get the three balls she hadn't been able to hit back over the net. Even though it was a brother/sister match, it was all in good fun. They just loved to be out in the sun, sweating and laughing together.
Tennis had always been there thing. Ever since they were little and took lessons at the YMCA, where 'everyone is a winner,' they had had a blast with it, but they had let off for about a year, after Bryce graduated, to alot for him to go into training and then oversees for his first tour in Afghanistan. He was back for about a month now, and for that, she was grateful. Her skills had been slipping though.
"What the hell is that?" he whispered, motioning for her to drop the balls, as he peered over the small brick enclosure to see the four guys standing outside of a ratty old car, and some loud cursing being exchanged between the four of them. When one of the guys fell to the ground with what seemed like a ton of force, Bryce sat down his racket simultaneously with McKynleigh. They picked up there sweat rags and jogged up the hill to the lot in sync.
When they finally reached their destination, they realized who it was who was doing the bullying and simultaneously rolled their eyes, "Hey Karofsky!" Bryce called and he lost his focus for the slightest fraction of a second, but it was enough for McKynleigh to run to the boy on the groun and wipe the slushie off his face, revealing amazingly acute features. Karofsky's friend, useless without the main source of force, released Cameron and he just stood there as the two of them backed away. McKynleigh stood from her spot beside the barely conscious boy and charged at full-speed toward Karofsky, smacking both him and his friend across the face.
"If you ever mess with them again, I will report you. You might not be able to slushie me, but if you do this again, and will report you and have you expelled." She was staring a hole straight through Karofsky until he and his friend back tracked to their own cars and took off like puppies with their tails between their legs.
After she had scared off the "big dogs," she made her way back to the group that was still clustered around the crappy car, "Sorry about them." she apologized to Cameron, "They think they own the place because they're the big, bad football players. If they pull anything like this with you all, just let one of us know. We have our connections."
"There happen to be a couple perks about being the principal's kid." Bryce laughed, "We've both been in theater club since freshmen year, never been slushied once"