Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed! This isn't nearly as long as I hoped it would be, but I was determined to post while I had the time, so here it is! I hope this chapter lives up to the others. I'm going to start getting more into the plot now and hopefully I'll be able to update soon! Thanks again for reading!
6: Now Sans the White Horse
As Noah was escorting her down the hall after practice and after the unexpected rekindling of their romantic relationship, Rachel could not wipe the smile off of her face. She had never imagined that she would be glad to be back together with Noah Puckerman, but she was. Dating him had been an interesting and educational experience, to say the least, and she was looking forward to discovering what their second attempt at a romantic endeavor was going to hold. Of course, she was going to have to work on conquering her feelings for Finn because it really was quite unbecoming for a girl to be dating one man and making 'moon eyes' at another, as Noah had so eloquently put it. That particular social construct was, after all, her prime reason for breaking off her first relationship with Noah. She didn't want to have to make the same mistake twice.
And it would be a mistake, because Noah's renewed interest in her provided an opportunity to liberate herself from her own expectations of what her young life was meant to consist of. She could overcome the confines of her heart and she could engage in a physical relationship with Noah as a way to make it all make sense. Sure, it was obvious that he didn't listen to half of the words that she said, and he had no interest in the finer arts like Finn did, but he was much more intelligent than his friend and he often had insightful things to say when there was no one else around. He was far too concerned with his reputation, but she supposed that she could relate to that, in a way, because although her concern was a matter of her future career and not the public opinion of immature adolescents whose affections could only be bought through violence and intimidation, she still had to be very careful of the things she said and did when in a public forum. Besides, she thought it spoke to their romantic chemistry that they were both able to be more true to themselves when they were alone together than when they were around their peers (the same was true for Finn, but she was willing to ignore that for the sake of her own internal argument).
She finally broke the silence, because she was uncomfortable with the quiet that had settled between them.
"I'm glad we're doing this, Noah. Admittedly, although I broke up with you, I was afraid to recant my decision, though I want you to be aware that I did regret it. What we had was not ideal, and it was inarguably started for the wrong reasons, but it was certainly a positive experience overall, and you were right about Finn and Quinn and how they're never going to break up. And…and, okay, you were right about Finn, too. He's used me. He's treated me unkindly. And now that we are together, I feel comfortable admitting that although my feelings for Finn eclipse all others, I have always been slightly attracted to you, and after our brief liaison, that attraction did evolve into a bit of a crush that had more to do with your surprisingly pleasant personality than your overall exceptional physicality. You're a wonderful person, Noah, both inside and…well, I think you know the rest."
She liked to compliment him, because he would always smirk a little. But it wasn't his slushie-throwing smirk or his insult-giving smirk. It wasn't even his leering smirk which was sometimes meant as a compliment and was sometimes not. The compliment smirk was something entirely different. He truly trusted her opinion of him, and she thought that was absolutely lovely. When she complimented Finn, he usually tried to brush it off. That displeased her because she was very careful with what compliments she gave to people, and she did not like for them to be ignored for the sake of appearing modest.
"You're pretty cool too, sometimes," Noah replied. He sighed, then offered, "Okay, most of the time. Just don't start camping out in front of my house or wallpapering your room with shirtless pictures of me, and we'll be cool. I've heard things."
"Noah, you've seen my bedroom. Several times. Despite what you may have heard, Quinn's nasty rumor about Finn's face being on my pillowcase is just that. A rumor. You'll find that there are many of them swirling about the school."
"Started by Quinn?"
"Is there anyone else in this school who dislikes me enough to actively sabotage my reputation?"
"You got a point. Most people just dislike you enough to trip you, or slushy you, or whatever."
Rachel frowned and tried her hardest not to sound too sarcastic. "Yes. Thank goodness they only dislike me that much."
Noah looked at her, and she thought that maybe he appeared sympathetic, although he quickly evened his expression into a much more characteristic glower of passivity (she knew that the description did not make sense, but the truth was that Noah was at his most peaceful when he looked as if he was searching for a fight).
There was another short silence, but this time Noah broke it with, "Need a ride home?"
"Oh, yes, please! And thank you. Usually I have to walk home because my fathers work late. And, as it's getting colder, and thus becoming darker earlier, it would be wonderful to avoid that."
"Dude, that sucks. Why don't you just ask one of the glee kids for a ride home?"
Rachel chuckled to herself and looked at him pointedly as they stopped at Noah's locker.
"I am not an easy person to get along with. I know it, they know it. You know it. They bring it up at every opportunity and either do not notice that I'm hurt by it, or they simply do not care. And while I am trying to work on it, the affections of the club are frustratingly fickle. One step out of line, and I could be ostracized again. I have recently begun asking Kurt for individual rides home on days when I don't feel like walking, but I feel that as a whole it is better not to set a permanent date, just in case. For example, I can see from here that his car is no longer in the parking lot. He was supposed to drive me home today. I think it is safe to assume that he forgot about me."
"So you actually go out of your way to not make plans with these people, just in case they start hating you again? Rachel, that's fucked up."
Rachel shrugged and decided not to say that termination seemed to be an unfortunate inevitability in all of her friendships, because her number of successful experiences with social situations was admittedly limited and she often made grave errors in the eyes of the other students as a result. Noah didn't need to hear that. Besides, she was hoping that things with him could be different. She did not want to turn it into a self-fulfilling prophecy for the both of them.
Once again, she started to feel uncomfortable with the silence, and she hastened to speak.
"I want to let you know that I am very pleased that you defended my honor today, Noah. Even if there were other factors to the attack on David, since you admitted that at least part of it was a result of what he and his cronies did to me this morning, I think it is appropriate for me to thank you."
"Don't mention it," Noah said, and he sounded so sincere that Rachel almost wanted to pinch herself (it did not escape her notice that they were alone and there was no one else in sight, possibly in the entire school, but she made up her mind to ignore that glaring flaw in his character). He closed his locker and they again started walking towards the exit. She couldn't remember when they had started holding hands.
"I think I have mentioned already today that no one has ever stood up for me before. Well, that's not entirely true. When we hired a new choreographer briefly for New Directions, he told me that I needed a nose job before I would be able to become successful. Finn objected to that, and was then told by the choreographer that he is freakishly tall. It was all rather anticlimactic because the incident didn't escalate any further than that on the shiny knight front, and while it was wonderful for me to get the chance to stand up for myself, I would have liked a bit more action."
"Like if Finn punched the guy in the face?"
"I suppose. I cannot deny that there is a certain thrill that accompanies the idea of someone standing up for me in a violent manner. It's so much more primal than using words, don't you think?"
Noah grinned down at her and draped the arm with the bandaged hand over her shoulder.
"Finally, something we can agree on. Well…if 'primal' is a good thing, anyway."
"We agree on quite a lot of things, Noah. For example, I think we can both agree that this was a fantastic idea. A casual relationship is exactly what each of us needs. Physical comfort and the constant reinforcement of the idea that there is something inherently desirable in each of us. Additionally, a casual relationship will allow each of us to be honest with one another without worrying about hurting the other's feelings to an excessive amount. I have always believed that honesty is one of the most important things in a relationship, and…"
She trailed off. He was looking down at her with a strange expression, and she realized that she was babbling. Instead of saying anything else, she just leaned against his body closer, reveling in the feeling of his fingers tightening reflexively on her shoulder.
He wasn't perfect, but neither was she. Maybe Finn was too good for her, and maybe Quinn was too good for him, but she thought maybe they were good enough for each other.
And there was another thing to consider: Noah was a rugged jock with leading man potential, as well. Perhaps her fate was still written in the stars, after all.
Puck wasn't sure how it had happened. He hadn't actually planned on asking Rachel out again. He'd sort of just been angling for the whole 'friends with benefits' routine because, seriously, he thought she'd be all over that. She'd been all about him earlier at her house with the whole towel thing, so he thought she probably wouldn't be totally against making out with him a few times, and maybe letting him get to a base that wasn't for losers. But then she'd asked about dating him again, and he had thought back to how cold he'd suddenly felt when he was sitting on those bleachers listening to her dump him. Because even though he had been wearing a sweatshirt, it had been like he wasn't wearing anything. He'd felt totally naked, and not in a good way. So he obviously sort of liked her, and it wasn't just about making Quinn jealous. He'd known from the second he bought her that grape slushy (the first one) that it wasn't. It was about something else, about being a better person maybe, as fruity as that sounded. So he sort of said that he'd date her again. And then for the first time since he was babysitting with Quinn, he felt warm.
Because maybe he couldn't hold on to his daughter or Santana or Quinn or any of his cougars, but at least he could hold on to a chick like Rachel Berry. And, actually, if the other kids would really think about it, they would realize that it was sort of a more amazing accomplishment than holding on to a normal girl, because Rachel Berry was batshit crazy, and putting up with that for some regular action was downright awesome.
And maybe walking with her down the hall with his arm over her shoulders and hers across his waist wasn't as badass as he'd have like, but whatever. It was the end of the day, and there was no one in the halls. There was no one anywhere except Mr. Schue who was talking to Miss Pillsbury outside the guidance office.
He was a little thrown when Rachel said that thing about honesty being super important in relationships or whatever she was saying (he honestly only caught like every other word), because he was hiding one seriously huge secret from her. And it wasn't like with Mercedes where it would just slip out by accident, because he knew there was no way he could ever let her know if he wanted her to still like him even a little bit. Maybe if they broke up again he'd come clean, but only then. Maybe. Probably not.
Because he had her back, and even though he hadn't even realized that he'd missed having her, he felt pretty good about dating her a second time around because he knew she was doing it for real and not just to make Finn jealous (because obviously she'd seen how much that hadn't worked last time) and she was like the easiest person to date because she just didn't care about shit, and that was awesome. He wasn't going to give that up for his conscience. No way. His conscience could go cry in a corner. What did Rachel even know about what was important in relationships, anyway? He was probably the only guy who'd even looked at her other than Finn and that creepy Jew-fro kid, and he was definitely the only kid who'd agreed to date her, so obviously she didn't know shit.
It was the real world, and honesty only meant as much as you let it. Quinn had taught him that. Which maybe meant it was shit, but whatever. He was sticking to it.
"So I was thinking maybe we could hang out at my place tomorrow after glee," he said as they walked through the parking lot. "I mean, you never actually met my mom the first time and the point of dating you was sort of to get her to shut up about me never dating any Jewish chicks."
"You dated me because I'm Jewish?"
That was maybe a stupid thing to say, so he thought of something less stupid and rolled with it.
"I dated you because you're a hot Jew. If I just wanted to date a girl who's down with the Star of David, I could go a lot easier than you, you know. I could have gone for Abby Roth. She's pretty cute, and she probably would kill to see me without my shirt off. But you, you're hot. And you sort of talk a lot and you're really a pain in the ass to impress because you didn't like me at all until I fucking sang for you in front of everybody, but I think my mom would like that, anyway. Plus you're smart, and I think you could convince her that I'm not a deadbeat nobody like my dad because, you know, you think I'm cool despite all the mean stuff I did to you."
Rachel looked at him with…wait, were those moon eyes? They were! Shit, they'd been dating for all of three minutes and already she was getting crazy on him.
But, okay, it sort of felt cool to know that even though they were basically only in this relationship because they both hated themselves and needed a self-esteem pick-up, she still managed to feel something for him. And he was man enough to admit that he sort of felt something for her, too. Sort of. Not out loud, though. Until she got down on her knees and worshipped his penis properly, he wouldn't be admitting shit.
"Noah, I find it surprisingly admirable that you're willing to be so honest with me, and that you were willing to endanger your reputation in order to date me and make your mother happy. Of course I am rather disappointed to learn that your first proposal of dating was not as genuine as I believed it to be…this is different though, isn't it?"
He sort of hated when she got all quiet like that and stopped using big words, because that meant she was serious or sad, and he was starting to hate both of those things just as much.
"Yeah, of course this is different. And, anyway, I liked it the first time even though it wasn't genuine, or whatever."
"Are you ready to admit that you never would have broken up with me if I hadn't dumped you first?"
He sighed and looked around. Still no one in sight. And she was looking at him with that knowing smile, like she could read his brain, like she already had him all figured out. And, okay, so usually she was right, but still. It was lame.
"Fine. But only because I'm expecting to make out with you sometime in the near future. I wasn't going to break up with you. You're pretty cool even though you're not Quinn, and you made me feel good about myself all the time, even though you wouldn't let me touch your boobs."
"I think at this point it would be pertinent to point out that the conditions of our first relationship were different because I believed that saving myself for Finn was the only way I was going to receive the most perfect first sexual experience available to me."
Puck stared at her, open-mouthed.
"Wait, what the hell are you saying? Don't toy with me, Rachel."
"I'm not saying right away. I have to give this decision careful consideration, after all. But I can say with a fair amount of confidence that I will be ready to give up my virginity to you sooner rather than later. And I am prepared to let you touch my boobs far sooner than that."
Puck thought that maybe the whole world could have exploded into a zillion pieces, and he'd die grinning like a fool. Sex with Rachel Berry? She was crazy enough that it might be totally freaky and awesome. Like this one woman, Connie Fisher, whose pool he'd cleaned a few times the summer before she moved away. She was a total crazy person. Watched him through the upstairs blinds like he didn't know she was there, slapped him every time he looked sideways at her even when they were doing it, sometimes burst into hysterical tears of guilt while begging for him to go faster. It was weird as hell, but that was some mind-blowing sex.
"Awesome," he breathed.
But then they stopped in front of his truck and stared with identical expressions of rage as they took in the spray paint and the slashed tires.
Someone had murdered his truck. His truck.
And then he actually read the words on the side, and then three seconds later he actually understood what it was supposed to mean, and then…then he just didn't know what do to.
"Watch your Fag-Spawn," Rachel read aloud, voice shaking with anger. The white paint was still dripping onto the pavement below, and as they stood there in silence Puck could hear the tires hissing as they let out their last bit of air.
He wasn't sure what to say. Sure, it was his car, but the verbal attack was clearly affecting Rachel more than it was affecting him. And why wouldn't it? It was meant for her. Puck wasn't exactly riding the homo-support group express, but he knew how much Rachel loved her dads, and he knew it probably sucked to have someone say something like that about them.
"Shit," he said, finally. "Fucking Karofsky."
"This is disgusting," Rachel whispered, her voice breaking. He wanted to hold her hand or some shit to make her stop being so quiet and sad, but he was too nervous to move. Like any sudden motion would make her really start crying. He didn't want her to really start crying.
"He's gonna pay for this, don't worry."
"I was led to understand that he already had."
"Yeah, me too. Guess he needs a refresher course."
"You've already bruised your knuckles once today, Noah."
"Fine. I'll get him tomorrow. I have a quota to meet, anyway."
Rachel ignored his attempt at lightheartedness, and instead bit her lip as she stared at the truck.
"Do you think this is a threat? Or just a general homophobic slur?"
"Karofsky's not stupid enough to threaten you. Especially not messing with my car in the process. No way."
It seemed like Rachel liked what he said, because she nodded all wisely and shook her hair out of her face. She still looked like she was about to cry, but maybe she looked a little tougher, too. Or was that just wishful thinking, because he really didn't want to deal with her crying or whatever?
"Fine. I can accept that this is going to need to be dealt with in a probably violent manner. No one insults my dads like this. They have always taught me that the words themselves are not hurtful, but the intent behind them is. And this is clearly an attempt to slander my name by affixing some sort of negative connotation onto the healthy and loving relationship of my parents. It's unacceptable and disgusting, and I think that you are exactly the person to take care of this."
Puck was totally surprised, because Rachel Berry didn't seem like the sort of person who'd be okay with violence at all, but she had twice been sort of intense about it already. It was kind of awesome, and he was kind of glad that they were dating because it meant that he'd have more of an excuse to go apeshit. Plus the whole crazy-person sex thing was looking more and more likely.
"Yeah, all right," he said, and he held up a hand for a high five. Rachel looked at him like he was the one who had five heads, then reluctantly slapped his palm with her own.
"Come on, we can walk to my house," she said, tugging his arm.
"We're just gonna leave her here?"
Puck gestured to his car before Rachel could ask some stupid question about who the 'her' in the sentence was referring to.
"Unless you have four spare tires in the bed of your truck, Noah, we're going to need to get home somehow. You can call a tow when we're walking."
"All right. Cool."
They heard a car slowing down behind them at the same moment, and this time Puck did step in front of her before he got a good look and saw that – again – it was just Mr. Schue. Before Puck could even think about hiding the damage to his truck, Mr. Schue parked and jumped onto the curb like one of them was bleeding from the eyes or something.
"Puck, is this your truck?"
"Yeah," was Puck's sullen reply. Mr. Schue turned to look at Rachel, so Puck looked at her, too. Obviously, they both expected her to explain. She always had something to say about something, and this was a specially something situation. She should have been running at the mouth the second she saw an authority figure, demanding that Karofsky be held accountable for his bigotry or whatever (holy shit, how did he even know those words?). But Rachel wasn't talking. Like, at all. She was looking down at her feet, at her hands clasped in front of her, at the curtain of hair that was falling in her face. Puck watched as her tears dripped from her cheeks and to the pavement, and his stomach twisted painfully again.
The absolute worst kind of growing pains. And this time, he didn't think Rachel was even faking it. And he wanted to be mad that she was crying and putting him in this awkward position of caring about her when they'd only been dating for like two seconds, but he couldn't. Karofsky was an asshole, and he had gone too far. It was like insulting someone's mom, only worse, because he'd managed to work a hate crime into the same sentence. She deserved to be upset, and Karofsky deserved to be in a coma.
"Rachel, are you okay?" Mr. Schue asked. Rachel nodded and sniffled, and clearly she wasn't okay, but Mr. Schue didn't seem to know how to deal with her crying and quiet anymore than Puck did, so he looked back at Puck for help.
"Uh, probably one of the hockey players did this, Mr. Schue. One of the guys who slushied Rachel in the hall today. I sort of punched one of them in the face."
He held up his bandaged fist, and the blood was sort of starting to go through at the knuckles which made Mr. Schue wince. Puck didn't want to grin, but he did anyway. It looked totally badass.
"Did the assault happen on school grounds?"
"Assault? Gross. I just hit him. I don't swing that way, Mr. Schue. And, anyway, he started it. He had a video of Rachel on his phone and him and Mark Linder were playing it over and over again and making comments about her boobs and other worse stuff that I feel weird saying to a teacher. Mike Chang told me about it, so I went and told Karofsky to knock it off. He made another comment, so I hit him. That's sexual harassment, man. You can't talk about another guy's ex-girlfriend like that."
"From what you're telling me, they shouldn't be talking about any girl like that," Mr. Schue said pointedly, but whatever. It was different, standing up for just any girl and standing up for your ex.
"Well, whatever. Anyway, I was going to give her a ride home, but then this happened. We're probs just going to walk to her house and call a tow. I don't think she lives too far, right Rach?"
The nickname sort of just happened, but it sounded right. She was clearly upset, and maybe it would cheer her up to see that he liked her enough to call her by a stupid nickname that no one else called her. She seemed to at least recognize the effort, and she reached out and curled her fingers around his, but didn't say anything or smile or any of the things he had hoped for. She just nodded.
"Yeah, so, we'll probably be okay," Puck continued awkwardly. It was really amazing, because he never thought he'd actually miss Rachel's constant chattering. She'd totally know how to make Schue go away. Puck didn't, other than being a jackass about it, and he had a feeling that Rachel would probably be a little pissed about that and his near-future action would look even less likely than it was already starting to look.
Nothing like a hateful slur against her parents to get a girl in the mood, after all.
He sighed and shrugged his shoulders a little, hoping that Schue would either get "chicks, man" or "I'll do my best, sir" from the gesture. Instead, the bastard just frowned. Puck thought he was going to say something about the total weirdness of their relationship, which was very true but it also was not the right time to be talking about that, so he probably would have been a little annoyed. But to his surprise, Mr. Schue reached out and clasped a hand on his shoulder, trying to look all manly and tall even though he wasn't.
"Come on, kids," he said, gesturing to the rusty crap-heap that he probably called a car. "I'll drive you guys to Rachel's."
And, shit, would it really be too much of a dick move to ask if Schue could just drop him off at his house? He wasn't sure he wanted to sit through a three person rant about homophobia, because he knew that a rant by one Berry would be ear-bleeding enough. He pictured Rachel's dads as like, male versions of her, so that meant it would be three times as bad.
But what could he do? Shake off the girlfriend he just got back? Tell her that he wasn't ready for all this shit? Maybe. Technically, he could do that. Rachel would say 'of course' in that way she had, and he could probably even fool himself into thinking she would mean it when she'd say that it was perfectly all right. But Finn wouldn't do that. Finn would be all supportive and stroke her hair and hold her hand and probably sing her a fucking ballad while he baked her some cookies and suggested that they all sit down as a family and watch West Side Fucking Story. Jesus.
Puck wasn't going to do most of that. But maybe he could hold her hand and listen to the three Berrys rant about how people sucked. Because he sort of agreed, anyway. What they did in their own time was their own business, and they'd raised a super smart and scarily driven chick. They made better parents than anyone, clearly, if they were able to avoid the whole teenagers-not-caring-about-anything problem. And Rachel clearly wanted him to feel good about himself, so why shouldn't he try to make her feel good, too?
He told the part of himself with doubts to shut the hell up, and he followed Rachel into the backseat of the car silently. When they drove past what would be the turn to get to his house, he said absolutely nothing.
