Okay, hey guys. So, I haven't had a lot of reviews (1) but I have indeed had quite a few story alerts, so at least people are liking this, right? So, thanks to all who are reading it. I have put a lot of time and effort into this, so I would very much appreciate some reviews.

So, here's the deal: the more reviews I get, the faster these chapters will be uploaded. Your choice :D

In this chapter we'll be meeting the one and only: Noah Puckerman. What an absolute leg-end. Also sexual and stuff.

Once again; I do not own Glee. The man behind the Genius; Ryan Murphy does. And Fox and what-not, blah, blah..

Happy Reading (:

Ps. I told you the chapters would get loads longer!

Chapter 3

Monday 15th April.

I soon learn of the Cheerio's, and the Glee club, and Coach Sue Sylvester.

However, I'm hardly any more comfortable than I was a week ago, when I'd first started.

On this Monday, I'm still trying to make a good impression. I'm wearing short shorts to show off my long, slender, tanned legs which I had been complimented on many times. A hot pink, simple strapless top, which clings to my size 6 curves and 32C chest (which I am rather proud of I must say), and a pair of denim boots, with big, chunky heels.

My blonde hair falls in loose curls to the middle of my chest, and big fringe clipped to the side.

During second period (which I have free) I'm called into Coach Sylvester's office. I had been trying to remember my locker combination when her sweet little assistant Becky came and got me.

"Yes Coach?" I ask, appearing in her doorway.

She gestures to the seats in front of her desk, and I sit.

"I'd like you to try out for the Cheerio's, Doll face,"

"Really? Why?" I question, confusedly.

"You have a good figure, and I like to have pretty cheerleaders. You ever heard of a fat, ugly cheerleader? No, I didn't think so. Tryouts, Wednesday lunchtime,"

Who said I even want to be a cheerleader?

"But-"

"Oh, and I need you to give this message to ," she adds, handing me a folded piece of paper.

"But-"

"Boys gym. Now, get out of my office,"

I leave the room, bewildered.

Who is this Puckerman? Where's the boys gym? Do I want to be a Cheerio?

I pull the school map out of my pocket (which I keep with me at all times) and after a few attempts, I find the gym.

I push open the door, and am greeted by the smell of deodorant, aftershave and a hint of shower gel. It's not particularly loud in there, so I can hear conversations.

In front of me are a couple of rows of lockers, and benches. I follow then round the corner and there it is; the gym. Filled with muscled high school jocks' doing weights and sit ups and God knows what else they do to get buff.

I feel slightly flustered, but i put one hand on my hip and look at the paper in my hand.

It's addressed to Noah Puckerman. Wow, he sounds badass.

That's when a complete douche decides to shout:

"Hey boys! Christmas came early!"

I swivel round; hand still on my hips, to find the source of the noise.

It points me to a bunch of guys, sitting on a bench doing weights. I march over.

"Excuse me?" I raise my eyebrows.

"We were just looking at those huge-" one of them starts, but gets cut off almost immediately by another guy, who stands up.

"Please, let the men handle this," he says to his friend before moving closer to me.

"I'm sorry about this douche; he's not used to seeing hot chicks this close to him before,"

I decide this is a compliment.

I also decide that this is Noah Puckerman.

And he is badass, with his head shaved all except one thick black strip down the middle. He doesn't look sorry.

"I see,"

"Speaking of which; what are you doing in here? This is no place for a chick like you," he smirks.

Implying that I'm weak. Ah, he couldn't be more wrong. But he doesn't know that, and I'm not a buzz kill.

"Oh, is that so?" I cock my head to one side.

"Yeah, it is so,"

"I guess I should probably leave then," I turn on my heel and start walking back towards the lockers.

"Whoa, I didn't say that!" he disagrees hastily, jogging to where I'm stood.

I stop, smirking. This guy is going to be easy to twist round my finger. I turn around, to find him stood not far behind me.

"Actually, I came here to deliver a letter,"

"Oh yeah, who too?"

"Noah Puckerman?" I watch his face change. This is definitely him. "He sounds like a bit of a douche to me,"

He scoffs.

"He's a total badass actually,"

"Aaah keeps everyone in line does he?" I ask, slyly.

"Damn straight!"

"Hmm," I lean on the wall. "So Puckerman,"

"It's Puck,"

"I'm sure. I have a message for you," I say, flipping the note in between my fingers.

"Oh yeah?" he steps closer.

"Mmhm,"

"Well, do you wanna give it to me?"

I poise a thinking face then answer; "No, not really,"

I turn around, and walk out, leaving him standing there.

"Bye Puckerman,"

I knock on the Football coach's door, and give it to her instead.

Tuesday 16th April

Free period (roughly half 10)

As I'm walking through the halls, which are mostly empty, I hear shouting:

"You know what Santana, you can dish it out but you can't take it. Maybe you're right, maybe I am destined to play the lead role in the Broadway version of Willow, but the only job you're ever going to have is working on a pole!"

My mouth drops, and I stop to hear Santana's defence.

She has a reputation as a feisty cheerleader, and I'll bet this is like a big slap in the face for her. She won't take it lightly.

Despite my expectations, she just says:

"Fine,"

I hear footsteps, and out comes Santana.

She's wearing the Cheerio's uniform. She's pretty, with dark skin, sleek black hair, and thin, seductive eyes. Maybe she's Latin?

She leans against the wall outside the door she just walked out of, next to the lockers and opposite me. She slides down the wall, and presses two fingers to her eyes, trying to stop the tears, or the tantrum; one of the two.

"Are you okay?" I ask hesitantly.

"Yeah, walking on frikkin' sunshine," she snaps back, her death glare boring two holes in my face.

I poke my head round the classroom door.

"Harsh Rachel," a boy with brown styled hair says disapprovingly to the girl in front of him. She has long, dark hair, and olive skin.

She shrugs.

"Harsh but true,"

"You did totally own her," a blonde boy who I can't see clearly says, obviously pleased.

"Guys," the teacher protests.

"Hey, I've been brushing up on my chat up lines," the blonde guy changes the subject.

"I would totally brush mine too, but I forgot my hairbrush," a blonde Cheerio next to a guy in a wheelchair looks completely bummed.

"Not that sort of brush Brittany," a big, black girl points out.

"What other brush is there? I'm so confused," she slumps her shoulders.

"Hey, pretend I'm really hot. How're you gonna ensure that I'm coming home with you tonight?" the guy with brown hair grins at blonde boy.

"Dude, no offence, but I really don't find you attractive,"

"I know," brown boy rolls his eyes at blonde boy, "Just pretend,"

Blonde boy considers it, then turns to brown boy and says:

"Hey, you just enabled my pop up," then grins to himself.

"Wow, what a catch, I can't believe I ever let you go," another blonde Cheerio from the very back widens her eyes sounding totally bored.

"Seriously, number 1. Never, ever say that to any girl. And 2. Number 1 x a million,"

"Mercedes that would work on any girl with a sense of humour," blonde boy says to the pretty black girl from the back.

"No, no. It sounds dorky. Nerds? Major turn off. Have you never watched The Big Bang Theory?" Mercedes replies, raising an unimpressed eyebrow.

"I like it. It's hot," Brittany says, looking straight at blonde boy.

"Exactly," blonde boy grins.

I wish I could see him better. I can't decide whether he's hot. Which is annoying because he looks like he is, but I need to see him close up to decide.

"Talk nerdy to me," Brittany says to blonde boy.

"TIME OUT," the teacher calls, because the guy in the wheel chair next to Brittany looks like he's ready to rip off blonde boys head. Which would be unfortunate because then I would never find out if he's hot or not.

A few of them get up, so I quickly turn back to the girl on the floor.

"Some of them might be coming out now," I inform her.

She groans, so I offer her my hand.

But she just stares at me coldly, gets up, and walks away down the hall.

I sigh, and sink into the position which Santana was in; back leant against the wall, head in hands, leg's up in front of me.

So much for being nice. That doesn't get you anywhere.

Dad said that making friends here would be easy. Natural, just like it was back home.

Oh God! I smack my head.

I have to stop referring to it like that. It's not my home anymore. This is my home.

I look around.

This is where I'll be for the best part of three years.

11th grade started a few months ago, so I have the rest of this year, then 12th grade, and senior year to look forward too.

I hate being 16. I can't wait for my birthday. It's not yet though.

What if I don't manage to make any friends?

I miss home.

I miss my mom, and my friends. Even my shitty old school.

I let the tears flow down my face, and drop onto the knees of my jeans.

"Hey Blondie," a voice says.

I look up, and find Puck standing over me. I hurry to wipe my eyes.

"S'up Puckerman?"

He crouches down in front of me.

"You don't want to know want to know what of mine is up when I can see straight down your shirt,"

I pull my grey cardigan over my low slung pink t-shirt.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm just very new," I tell him truthfully.

"I did wonder," he gives me a small, sympathetic smile. "Hang with me. You'll fit right in,"

"What's in it for you?" I ask, not believing for one second that someone like Puck would do something nice for someone else just out of the 'pure goodness' of his heart, without an ulterior motive.

"Babe, do you own a mirror? Your ass will be very good for me to have around," he smirks.

I laugh. "At least my ass is good for something,"

"Yeah," he helps me up, "At least,"

4:30 p.m.

Home.

Puck and I hung out in an empty classroom today, just talking about stuff.

Despite first impressions, I do like him.

I'm sitting at the kitchen table with my art pad in front of me when I hear the front door bang.

"Hey," Blaine's voice comes from behind me.

"S'up?" I shade in Puck's hair.

Don't ask; I have Puck on the mind. He's my first real friend here, well, apart from Blaine. But he's my brother, so I don't really think that it counts.

"Good day?" he asks, going to the fridge, and taking out an apple.

(A/N, don't ask, I was craving apples when I wrote this).

"Grab me an apple! And yes, actually,"

He sits opposite to me, and I put down my pencil so as I can have my apple.

"Wow! An actual good day? I was starting t get a little worried," he raises his eyebrows, and loosens his tie a little.

"I wouldn't go as far as good, but it was an improvement. I made a friend," I inform him proudly.

"Is this the guy?" he questions, sliding my art pad out from under my elbow.

"Roughly,"

"You like him?"

"Please Blaine, I met the guy yesterday," I scoff, pulling my art pad back.

"Okay," he smiles secretly so as I feel like hitting him round the face.

"Whatever. I'll be upstairs," I roll my eyes, sliding off the stool and going up to my room.

6:00 p.m.

In the bathroom, tying my new mascara out in the full length mirror, with my bedroom door open, and my iPod blaring out.

On comes one of my favourites:

Need You Now.

I know it's kind of corny, but I love it.

And that's how I find myself singing:

"[8] Picture perfect memories,

Scattered all around the floor,

Reaching for the phone 'cos I can't fight it anymore,

And I wonder if I ever cross your mind,

For me it happens all the time,

It's a quarter after one,

I'm all alone and I need you now,

I said I wouldn't call but I lost all control and I need you now [8]"

And that's when I stop because I notice my brother and another boy standing in the bathroom doorway which comes from his room, and they're both watching me, smiling.

Now I feel like a prize idiot.

"Oh God, what now?" I moan loudly, after turning off the noise in the background.

"I didn't know you could sing," he comes in looking amused. The other boy just stands there, arms crossed.

"I can't," I reply bluntly, poofing my hair in the mirror as Blaine sits on the edge of the bath.

"Actually you can," the other boy pipes up.

I swivel to face to voice just as Blaine decides to introduce him.

"This is Kurt Hummel. The boy I told you about,"

I take in his waistcoat and skinny jeans which I actually quite like. Definitely gay. I smile and hold a hand out.

"Hey Kurt. I'm Fliss- sorry, Annie," I correct myself. I am not Fliss anymore. I'm Annie Fredricks. The new and improved Fliss Fredricks. The non-slut one. The non-bitch-get-in-everyone's-business one.

"It's my pleasure. Annie has anyone told you about Glee club?" he asks, leaning on the doorframe.

"It's like a singing club right?" for losers, I add mentally.

"Yes, it is. Have you met anyone from there yet? Santana Lopez from the Cheerio's? Or maybe Finn Hudson?"

"Santana? Ugh, I would rather cut my head off with a plastic spoon than be within 10 feet of her," I make a face.

I tried to help her, and she totally threw it back in my face. She was just rude.

"Ignore Santana. The others are great. Seriously, I recommend it if you're having a little trouble finding your footing," he doesn't say it like he's judging me. Just like he knows where I am, and he's been there too. Just like he understands, and knows how I'm feeling.

And there's something about that smile and camp stance which I trust.

That doesn't mean that I'll be joining this 'Glee Club', and it doesn't mean that McKinley will become more homely; it just means that I'll check it out. As it is I'm in no position to pass on friends, so I let them both into my room, and pull out the beanbags and Harribo's.

8:30 p.m.

Turns out that Kurt just recently transferred to Dalton. And if I didn't know any better, he likes Blaine. A lot.

He explained that there was this one boy (a jock, obviously, because they all think that they own the place because they wear a football jacket) and he was making Kurt's life hell. The school board didn't do anything about it; he left. Simple as. But I don't blame him. This guy, Karofsky, sounds like the biggest dickhead of the century. Poor Kurt.

Just as he's about to leave, he turns at the door and says:

"You really should check out Glee club. I know you'd like it. And maybe you could help Rachel; she's a walking fashion disaster. I've tried, and to no avail," he sighs, shaking his head.

I laugh, and hug him before he says goodbye, and I close the door.

I'm starving. I could murder a cheese burger.

But no, Annie. Remember, you might be a Cheerio this time next week, and you need to be the hottest bitch in this joint. You need people to stare when you walk past. Obviously not excessively because that would be creepy. But enough that I can start out being mysterious and hot. I could maybe even bag a non-ass-a-holic guy.

Ha, I should be so lucky. I just need to stick with Puck, and all will be fine. I hope.

I walk out and sit in the lounge. Janie and Dad are in the kitchen. She's cooking like the perfect stereotypical wife.

"So, what do you think?" Blaine asks hopefully, sitting next to me.

"I think that I could actually eat my weight in Nacho's, but I can't because I have to look super hot for school and-"

"No, what do you think about Kurt?" he laughs, and I feel stupid for just launching into my personal thought. No one should ever find out what goes on up there.

"Oh, he was nice. And very gay," I shoot him that smug look.

"Oh, he's the gayest. But uh...it's not like that," he taps my leg jokingly.

I just say: "Okay," and give him the look he was giving me earlier which says: 'Yeah, if you say so'.

Wednesday 17th April

Looking in the mirror, deciding if the outfit I've chosen is okay.

The weather went against my original outfit plan for today, and thought: 'hmm, no, actually, I'm going to be 10 degrees colder than that stupid weather woman told Ohio it would be just too piss everyone off'.

So instead I'm wearing a denim mini-skirt, skin tights and brown uggs, a long grey cardigan and a white button up polo top. I think it looks okay considering I only had 10 minutes to arrange it. I wear it with my hair in a scruffy bun, with a few bits loose, smoky eyes, and light pink gloss.

10:15 a.m.

I call Puck. I can't find him.

Well, it's not like I've looked everywhere, but we were supposed to meet and doesn't that involve both people making the effort?

"S'up Blondie?"

"My name is Annie and you know it Puckerman,"

"Yeah, yeah. What d'ya wants?"

"I wants to know where the hell you are Romeo! We were supposed to meet remember?" I remind him.

He has the memory of a goldfish. He's not really the sharpest knife in the draw. I think his brain went, along with the rest of his hair.

"Shit, I forgot. Well, go down to the room you were at yesterday. You remember right?"

"The one-"

He's already gone.

I roll my eyes, and follow the hallways, until I come to the room. Inside I can hear a load of squabbling.

Again, I poke my head around the door to see Puck sitting next to the big black girl.

He notices, and gets up, making his way towards me.

All eyes turn to the door, and I start to retreat backwards, but not fast enough.

He puts an arm around my shoulders, leads me (drags more like) into the room, and introduces me. Or something like that.

"Guys, this is my girl Blondie," I swiftly elbow him in the ribs, and he corrects himself, "Sorry, Annie. Annie Fredricks. She's new,"

"Your girl? When did we decide on that?" I mutter, flustered.

"Hey Annie. Why don't you tell Glee club about yourself?" the teacher offers as Puck pulls me towards the middle of the room, so as everyone can see me better (sucks for them).

Glee club? Puckerman is in Glee club? Really?

"Uhh...My name is Annie Fredricks. I'm 16 years old. I just moved here to live with my Dad, step Mom, and step Brother Blaine. I love to dance, and I'm kickass at singing but not outside the Bathroom. Or my bedroom but I prefer the bathroom because of the tiles and-"

"Try it now?" the teacher says.

I turn, and he's looking at me steadily.

"What?" I question, and then a girl at the front raises her hand.

"," she starts, without waiting for him to accept, "I really don't think we need any more members for Glee club. The last thing we want is to have excessive members who will be left out and-"

"Rachel, we always need new members for Glee Club. Remember Sunshine?" raises an eyebrow, and that's all it takes for Rachel to give in.

"I guess dancing in the background can be fun," she murmurs.

"So, Annie," the brown haired dude, stands from the middle row, "Turn on your iPod right now; what're you listening too?"

I think hard, and then answer:

"Stop and Stare by One Republic," and realise that I'd been listening to it earlier because it kind of represented my situation.

"Hit it!"

And just like that the familiar tune fills my ears, via the band playing in the background.

Brown haired dude on drums and Puck on a guitar.

I shake my head, but he grins, coming closer until I'm smiling despite myself and swaying with him and the beat.

And this is how I find myself singing out all of those feelings. All of which were compressed into a very small bottle at the back of my head. One which was labelled 'Do Not Open. Ever.' The situation with my Mom, those pictures, my old boyfriend... All those things he did... All the times bad things would happen and I would force myself to contain the tears. Even when I got home. I convinced myself that if I locked myself in my room and cried, then it would just be me giving up, and handing myself over. Surrendering to it, and admitting that yes, in fact, it did get to me. No, I'm not as strong as everyone thought I was.

Point number one: Must change my ways – its okay to cry.

Everyone joins in at the end. Even the guys, and there's this amazing sense of community, and team work. The sense of home which I've been dying to find.

I finish, panting, and everyone is grinning and laughing.

Puck hugs me tightly just as I hear a scoff come from the door.

Enter Santana. Of course.

"Ugh, God what's going on here?"

"We were just welcoming Annie to the Glee club," he grins widely at me.

"Seriously ? Just like that?" she asks disgustedly, putting a hand on her hip.

"Yep. And this is Glee Club. Glee Club which you're in. You need to learn the ways. First of all; acceptance. Give her a chance," he gestures to me, encouragingly.

She just throws me death glares, and stalks out.

'How typical' I think to myself, watching the door.

Where is possibly hot blonde dude?

, however, just shakes his head.

"Right everyone, mingle! Go! Annie, I want you to get as many hugs in the next 15 minutes as possible!"

I laugh loudly, and clap my hands together.