Due to my happiness and excitement regarding my beloved laptop working again after being resurrected from laptop heaven, I thought 'Hey, might as well post this since I'm going to be a lazy bugger once uni recommences.' Makes me wish I shouldn't have begged my mum for those hand puppets all those years ago. Yeah... I have no idea either.
Anyways, HI AGAIN! Long time no see once again. How have you been? I don't care! Naaah, I care. Trust me, your time must have been more productive than mine. I'm still trying to shake off my jet lag state, but it is hard, considering how yesterday I slept at sunrise and woke up at sunset. Again... I have no idea.
Disclaimer: see previous chappies. And if you are lazy to do so - I no own Glee. If I did, the first thing I would buy with my money is an air conditioner and maybe a pet lizard. Oh and unlimited Mango Frappa's from Starbucks. Oh yeahhh, my idea of heaven :D
"If you wanted to be on top, you should've just asked babe."
"How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me those names?"
"Well you're making it hard for me to not say how hot and sexy you are, even when you're covered in mud."
"And since you're covered in mud, eat mud pig!"
"…Did you just throw mud at my face? You're going down baby!"
"Catch me if you can!"
"I plan to do more than that after when I do!"
Rachel knew it was immature of her to do so, but she just couldn't let the opportunity slide. Whipping her head back to face the boy chasing her, she stuck her tongue out in a childish manner; somewhat hoping her simple action would get him more annoyed.
It worked. Puck was very annoyed. When he said he planned to do more after he caught her, he wasn't joking. He was serious. Exactly what it was he had planned if he had managed to catch up to her he did not actually know, but felt that the idea would come to him eventually. Despite long grueling hours of football training and considering Rachel's size, she still managed to slightly outrun him. Slightly. But to be honest, he had never seen this side of her before. Heck, it made her seem… cute. Cute in a deer way with her doe-like irises teasing him. He really should stop watching Disney films with his sister, especially Bambi.
He needed to get these sappy thoughts out of his head, and he was glad that Rachel stumbled up ahead of him that he used as an advantage to edge closer to her. Sadly his thoughts returned to him and were now registering how carefree she looked with her mocha hair blowing everywhere. When she was in Glee club –or anywhere for that matter– she was always her prissy self, but observing her now revealed a side he had never seen before. And Puck quite liked it… probably without the mud clinging to her clothes and the rest of her body.
But even with the sludge on her petite form, it made her more beautiful than before.
Whoa, where the heck did that musing come from?
After hearing the hurrying steps of mud behind her had died down, Rachel turned to observe a dumbstruck Puck just staring. After whipping her head around to see if there was anyone behind her, she came to the conclusion that he was probably just staring into space or wherever the hell teenaged boys like Puck were thinking of when their expressions were like that. Not rushing back to him if he was bluffing, she took leisurely steps towards the badboy, keeping a fair distance incase it turned out to be a deception.
"Puck?" Rachel hesitantly questioned, waving a hand in the direction he was staring at, even though she was a few metres away from the boy. Observing that he was still in the same condition and position he was in moments before, she stepped closer until she was face to face with him.
What the hell was she supposed to do now? If she tried to slap his face (while feeling his rugged cheeks at the same time), he would pounce and she would be killed. If she tried to reach out and grab his arms (while feeling how hard and muscular they felt), he would pounce and she would be killed. If she tried to place her hands on his chest (while trying to find where his nipple ring was located despite him having a shirt on), he would pounce and she would be killed. She didn't even want to know what would happen if she tried to kiss him. Not that she wanted to, it was just a measly thought… so she muses.
So either way, no matter what the outcome was, she would be eaten by her predator.
So Rachel Berry did the one thing that made her actions feel neutral – she did nothing but stare at him, stare at his muddy face (courtesy of her), stare into his hypnotic orbs of hazel.
Noticing his mohawk was in disarray due to her mud throwing, she reluctantly made her right hand move towards his lawn-mowed head. She could've sworn Puck's irises had flashed a different kind of emotion, one she was familiar with but never seen him express it to anyone.
Rejection.
But why would he feel, or be rejected? Puck was one of the most popular boys at McKinley High. Many, if not all the girls (but Rachel… her mind for some reason thought otherwise) wants him, and all the boys wanted to be him… heck she was sure some boys even wanted him just as much as the girls wanted him, if a confession from Kurt was anything to go by. He was, as eloquently dubbed by the man himself, an ambadassador, someone that everyone fears because of his tough guy exterior and his record of bad behaviour. He had something she didn't have – people knowing your name and knowing who you are, that is not said in a negative connotation. He had fellow students eating out of the palm of his hands, and he was the one who would more likely reject others. He was everything she wasn't, so why did it seem like the tables had turned?
That was when she figured it out the reason behind his peculiar expression – he thought she was going to slap his face. Well, that was Rachel's assumption anyway, since his beautiful eyes had slightly widened and he had flinched a little when her hand made contact with the mud on his head. She might as well set the record straight before he assumed something else with her actions.
"I'm not going to hurt you," she softly told him, showing him the mud that was attached to his unnecessary hair cut and tossing it over her shoulder; while her other hand smoothed out his mohawk as best as she could. She knew she should just stop whatever the hell she was doing but her body felt like it was possessed and some other form was controlling her, although her mind was telling her she just wanted an excuse to touch him.
Puck followed her movements with his eyes and just contemplated her. One minute she is pissing the world off, the next minute she shows a carefree side no one would believe she had. He always knew she was the kind of person that was hard to decipher, especially with her ever-changing ape shit split personalities, but he liked the fact that he always had the chance to see her 'evolve'… since Puck was pretty sure he was the one that made her go through several metamorphoses. From the way she was playing with his 'hawk, he would not have mind her doing that for the rest of his life… as long as he could be doing her for the rest of his life. God, she was going to be the death of him.
"Berry," Puck breathed out, watching her reaction. Her slight shiver went unnoticed by him, and he liked it. Time for his plan to commence. "I wasn't kidding when I said you had soft hands."
Rachel did not know which was more unexpected – him saying those words, or the fact that after he spoke said words, he grabbed her hands from his lawn-mowed head and held it in his. She knew it was a big mistake to look into his eyes, especially when he was boring everything into her. All the emotions she observed from staring into his irises before made their presence again, and a part of her liked how she would bring it out of him. She just did not understand why he would characterize himself and proclaim to everyone else how much of a badass he was when what she was seeing right now were the exact opposite. Why was this boy so hard to figure out?
Like now for instance, with his thumbs brushing itself around her knuckles and his stare much more intense than before. Rachel wondered if this was how he used the Puckerman charm on other females, because although she would never ever admit it out loud or even to her diary, the charm seemed to be working on her. His stare just made her feel important, feel appreciated, feel… cared for. She always hoped that someday, someone would look at her the same way Puck was currently looking at her. She unconsciously licked her lips due to his orbs boring into hers, noticing how his grip on her tiny hands was slightly tighter. She was nervous yet curious to wonder what would occur next, and she did not have to wait anytime soon, with his chiseled face moving precariously towards hers.
Their staring war still going on, Rachel bit her bottom lip, resulting to a low growl from the young man in front of her that she barely heard. This was it, the predator was going to kill his prey, and if she was honest, she had a feeling it would happen, just not this soon. She could feel Puck's breath heaving closer towards where she stood frozen –not because he was still holding her hands–, just not wanting to flee. Her hands felt clammy, but pulling them away made Puck grip her hands tighter again, not wanting her to slip through his fingers.
When she closed her orbs of vision, he knew from then it was all or nothing. Taking the first move, his lips were just mere centimetres away from her plump lips, more reason to smack it to his. He would win in five four, three, tw-
RING!
"Fucking hell," he muttered under his breath before he opened his eyes and looked into her now opened chocolate eyes, all confused. Oh god, why was she looking at him like that? With the expression she had on her face at the moment; he wanted to smash his lips on hers and corrupt her innocence forever. Heck, he literally would have planned on doing that if he did not have maths class at the moment. Knowing him, he did not give a rat's ass about maths and what was currently being learnt on the curriculum about stupid quadratic functions but not going to this class would mean not being able to play the big game on Friday. He begrudgingly let go of his hold on the petite girl, taking a step back, and heading back to the school with his hands in his pockets, kicking the mud with annoyance while muttering expletives at the same time. He glanced over his shoulder one more time, a pang feeling emerging from the deep pits of his stomach.
He did not do anything to her –that was remotely badass in the last five minutes– but he felt he had hurt her more right at that moment than when he used to slushie her daily.
'I almost made out with Berry… so why didn't I?' was all he could think on the way to his maths class.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT YOU STUPID SON OF A BITCH?! ARGH! WHYYYYYYYYYY?"
"Calm down Santana! I know you want them, "crazy Jews to go hump like bunnies," but we all need to take one step at a time. Them included."
"It's just that… *sniffle* they were so close and we were so close in seeing Jews go all the way. Heck, I was waiting for them to get to first base and nothing happened, because of that stupid bell! Fuck you bell!"
"Tell me the reason you are acting like this is because it is your time of the month."
"No, my hormones act this way when I'm pregnant."
Mercedes halted her steps and raised an eyebrow at the cheerleader. There was already one pregnant cheerleader in the club; they did not need another pregnant cheerleader. Especially if that cheerleader was Santana Lopez. "… You're a really strange Latina."
Santana twirled to face Mercedes and waved around her mobile phone in her face, a smirk starting to form. "At least I'm a strange Latina with video footage of them running after the other and almost having a hot make out session because it's their way of foreplay!"
'I almost got kissed by Noah Puckerman… so why didn't I?' was the only thought running repeatedly through Rachel Berry's mind.
She could not believe what had just occurred a moment ago. One minute she was locked in a room overnight with an idiot, the next minute she was in detention with said idiot, the minute after that she was hunting down the same idiot across the football field, then some sort of silent tension occurred with the same idiotic person with the mohawk, and now she was just watching the very same douchebag of an idiot walking away from her until his figure was no longer in her peripheral vision. She thought he had somewhat managed to figure him out, but after this, he just made his bricked walls become harder for her to blow down.
Rachel thought Puck had wanted this, since he pretty much kept pestering to her about making out with him half the damn time they ever had an encounter… which always results to arguments –in her defense, he would start every single one of them– so why didn't he?
She would never dare tell a soul, but he looked more attractive and roguish with mud and dirt all over him… not that he was attractive or roguish at all to begin with.
Looking down at her now muddy attire, Rachel sighed and ran a hand through her knotty hair. At this time on Tuesday afternoon, she would be in Chemistry but since that class was now a detention session for some reason –a part of her wondered if Sue knew her and the mohawk barbarian escaped the locked classroom by now– and she was out on the field covered in slosh, she might as well dry herself off while students were in class to avoid the harsh insults before Glee started. Exhaling a breath she had not realized she was holding, Rachel trudged towards McKinley High, her shoes and the muddy field emitting a squishy sound every time they made contact with each other.
She could not help but wonder why would someone like Noah Puckerman try to make a move on her anyway? I mean look at her – she was Rachel Barbra Berry, future Broadway star in the making, not to mention she acted like a diva at times, was too controlling, considered high maintenance according to everyone in McKinley, mostly everyone cannot stand her, was one of the selected few that many people picked on, and last but not least… she was short, just to name a few. It just did not make sense. He did not make sense.
She made sure to wipe her dirty flats on the scratchy mats that were located in one of the entrances in the school, so she wouldn't get in trouble for leaving a massive trail of mud marking her as the perpetrator. Finding the girls' bathroom sign nearby, she made her way slowly whilst making sure no one was in the corridors to make more fun of her. Heading straight towards the sink once the door gently closed behind, she carefully peeled her shirt off, leaving her with a singlet while trying to wash off the mud from her pale shirt. Out of all the times to wear a white shirt and not bring a spare change of clothes…
The bathroom door suddenly opened and the Jewish girl froze, her name called out in a questioning manner, and she was anticipating for the harsh words to start commencing, starting with her muddy attire. To her surprise, she was not expecting Brittany to be by herself, but Rachel still had her doubts – usually wherever Brittany was, Santana was somewhere nearby. "Watch'a doin'? Oh my goofy goober, did your poop come out your mouth? That happened to me once, but it tasted like carrots. What does yours taste like?"
The brunette girl blinked, very confused. Here she was covered in icky mud from hair to flats, an opportunity for anyone, even Mr. Schue to make fun of her, and despite Brittany's cluelessness, she was a cheerio nonetheless, meaning she was on top of the social hierarchy ladder, meaning she must insult others to stay cool… so why was she not doing that now?
Not wanting to tell her off or be rude to Brittany, since she never even done anything bad to her ever which she found odd, considering the blonde was a cheerleader, Rachel answered her question. "It is mud actually; it is just hard getting this stain off. And I am confident to say that the substance that arose from your mouth was vomit."
"You're wrong, vomit is when it tastes like brussel sprouts," the blonde cheerily stated, her gym bag she was holding placed on top of the sink, so she could find her make-up kit.
Not wanting to have a quarrel with the cheerleader, Rachel decided to go along with what she was saying. "Now that you mention it, when I threw up when I was eight years old due to having gastro from consuming some poorly made salad with feta cheese, my vomit did taste oddly like that awful tasting vegetable."
Brittany in return looked at her in amazement. "I know right?" And then she observed the brunette. "Don't you have any spare clothes?"
"Sadly no. I thought I had packed a spare change of clothes but I remembered I never came home last night because I… had a sleepover and this was my spare clothes that I changed into yesterday," she explained, remembering the whole slushie ordeal at lunch yesterday. Just as she remembered that, she also remembered another fact – she had gone to the bathroom to clean off the slushee and Puck came in to start another round of their bickers. She prayed he would not show this time, she could not handle it well if he did.
Shaking her head to get rid of the memory of him, Rachel was about to continue her conversation when something red and white was thrown in her direction. Startled, she was flabbergasted to observe a red and white cheerios jersey jacket in her hands, and had to look at Brittany for an explanation. "When poop came out of my mouth at a party last week, it went all over the white top I had too. I had my lucky jacket with me and when I put it on to hide my poop stain; many people were fainting around me because of my jacket. It is very lucky and I want you to use it because you will become a king when you wear it."
Rachel wondered if Brittany should be notified that the people might have fainted because of the smell of vomit, not because she was a cheerleader and therefore popular, but she was desperate for a piece of clothing, and the said article had long sleeves so that was a bonus. There was no way she was walking and practicing in Glee with a singlet where everyone will stare at how much skin she was showing that was not her legs.
"You have no idea how eternally grateful I am for this. Thank you so much Brittany, I will reward you with some of my cookies," Rachel exclaimed, hugging the girl, forgetting her bottom half was still muddy.
Brittany didn't seem to care though, returning the hug to the diva. "Thanks, your cookies feel nice."
Rachel slightly pulled away but laughed. Brittany may be clueless, but she had perfect timing when it came to making people laugh. She even thought what Brittany was doing to her clothes was just a ruse to make her laugh, until she heard the sound of a zipper unzipping from under her cheerios uniform. "No Brittany, it is fine really. Please do not take off your shorts," Rachel began to say, looking away from the blonde while her hand was furiously telling her to stop.
"But you need spare clothes. You are like a Barbie doll, and I don't like leaving my Barbie dolls naked at the bottom," Brittany clarified, stopping her action from unzipping her shorts.
"But I have my own pair of denim shorts underneath," the brunette explained, touching her shorts which felt more muddy and wet than her shirt and skirt combined. And it was all Puckerman's fault. Sigh. After Brittany's shorts came off and once again handed it to Rachel, she had no choice but to take her piece of clothing again. There was no way she was going to be sitting with a soaked pair of denim shorts, and there was no way she going to stand and look like an idiot. "You didn't have to," Rachel began to say, extremely grateful there were some kind hearted people in this godforsaken world.
The bell rang, startling the both of them (Rachel thinks the heavens are making time go fast so she can kill herself sooner) so Brittany grabbed her gym bag, twirled around and left the bathroom, waving a goodbye to her before saying her final words. "It's fine; I have nothing underneath my skirt anyway."
"Look at my pot pie, my pot pie's amazing," Sue cheerily sang down the corridor, inhaling the chicken pot pie in her hand and thanking whoever's pot pie it was that she took. Hey, she did not steal the food if there was no name on it. Fumbling for the keys in her pocket that will open the laboratory door in front of her, she wondered what the two horny Jews would be doing once she entered the classroom. Would they be at first base? Would they skip all and head straight for home? Would they be dead? As long as Sue had her phone to record and take pictures of the scene, all will be swell.
"Your favourite teacher in the milky way is back… what the fried chicken?" she screeched, observing the Bunsen burners and fire extinguishers scattered on the floor and the window all smashed. As well as the perpetrators gone.
Sue should have been annoyed. Annoyed at Will, annoyed at Puck and Rachel, annoyed at Will's hair. Heck, she should have been annoyed at the fact she dropped the chicken pot pie she borrowed –and will never return– was now splattered across the floor, but she was not. In fact, she was smirking. Why was she smirking?
Because although the Puckleberry plan was ruined due to her stomach, an alternative path took its course. Because on the table lay Rachel's dating questionnaire sheet.
"I think I might have lost fifteen pounds just from running from Mr. Schue and Miss. Pillsbury."
"You stopped to get two packets of chips at a vending machine Finn. I don't think you would have lost any pounds, more or less fifteen."
"If Quinn is in bitchy alert for insulting Finn like that, it means she was pissed he didn't give her any to eat."
"I am not going to ask why you know that Rutherford."
"Matt knows that fact because his sister is pregnant as well, Mike."
"Pretty much all pregnant women are like that Arthur. It is common sense really, like how Katy looks fabulous on my head when she is tilted."
"Not the hat thing again Kurt! We're sick of you mentioning her every time!"
"What are you yapping about this time Asian Buffy? And where is my Britt-Britt schmoopsie poo?"
"Seriously Santana, tell me the reason you are acting like this is because it is your time of the month."
"I think you should bow down to your queen Mercedes as I am finally here!"
All nine pairs of eyes turned towards Brittany, with an uber mega watt smile plastered on her face, waving at everyone in the same action the queen would address her people. "My jacket makes me king and since I am not wearing my jacket, I am a queen. I have no power until I am king again."
"At least I know you escaped and survived the Battle of Wemma Britt," Santana said, giving a warm smile to her best friend. She faced the rest of the club with a smirk that would rival Puck's and Sue's combined, pulling out her phone from her jacket. "But guess which two people were chasing each other around the football field in mud just about to reach first base?"
"Who?" a voice called out, and Santana noticed that whoever asked that question was not any of the nine pairs of eyes that were crowding around her phone. In fact, they weren't looking at her anymore, but whatever –or whoever– was behind her. She practically twirled in her spot, her orbs widening when she saw Puck standing there, now mud-less –although you could see the mud stains– and his hands in his pockets with an are-you-going-to-fucking-tell-me-or-fucking-not expression. "From what I heard when I came in, you said "just about to reach first base," so who were about to pash the shit out of each other?"
'You and your midget soul mate,' Santana mused in her mind while she breathed out a breath she had not realized she held, relieved Puck did not arrive five seconds before those words. Plastering the smirk she had on before the bad boy walked in, the words coming out of her mouth all bullshit. "The janitor and the lunch lady. Him giving her a smile made me want to cough up the tacos I ate in my cousin's quinceañera three years ago. And those tacos turned out to be poisoned!"
"HA!" Will exclaimed, bursting into the room with Emma nowhere in sight. "You guys are all busted! I knew you would be here. Emma said none of you would but I said "Emma, sectionals is only a few weeks away, so of course they would show up to the afterschool class, otherwise Rachel would go mad and call the FBI on them." By now, he was rambling on, the heat getting to him. "So now we are here and alas we have caught you! Now you are all going to tell us about this Wemma phenomenon you were talking about when we were spying on-" That was when he realized Puck was in the room, very much concerned for his teacher. "Puck? Puck! Wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-wha-wha-what are you doing he-he-her-here? Shouldn't you with Rac… raccoons in the p-p-park?"
"I may have been a fake stutterer, but at least I was convincing. Mr. Schue is just embarrassing at it," Tina whispered, face-palming herself.
"Mr. Schue, no offence but are you on crack?" Mike enquired, concerned for his teacher and his odd behaviour.
"Is Mr. Schue acting like this because he broke a bone?" Brittany piped out. "One time my uncle broke a few bones from falling off the couch and he was acting the same way as Mr. Schue right now. Except he was also moving his arms and dancing in one spot."
Blink went the eyes. "Are you sure he was not having a seizure?" Artie asked the blonde cheerleader.
Brittany shook her head with a goofy smile. "No silly, he didn't have any scissors on him."
Glad the attention was off of him for now, Mr. Schue fanned himself to calm down, asking the students to take a seat so the lesson can begin. "Now are there any questions before we begin today's lessons?"
"Yeah, where's Berry?" Puck called out, and all eyes were on him, curious that he was interested in her whereabouts. Noticing this, Puck squirmed in his seat while crossing his arms to flaunt his guns, tempting anyone in the room to ask him why he was concerned about the resident diva, and explained further. "She hasn't pissed off the world yet so it would not be that hard to find her even if she was in jail."
"That's because you make her lose her blow," Santana mumbled whilst smirking, earning a few chuckles from her fellow teammates.
A voice announced in the hallway, "There is no need to panic everyone; I am finally here after I had endured a bit of a rough patch in the past two days, but I have put that past behind me and I am ready to win sectionals!"
Everyone looked up and all jaws were dropped to the floor as Rachel entered the room, all orbs staring at her attire, consisting of a cheerio jersey and a pair of ripped, pale turquoise shorts. Puck, of course could not help but stare at how those shorts showed off more leg than she ever had when she wore her goddamn skirts. He was in for the ride of his life when he hit the shower tonight.
"How does it feel to be king?" Brittany piped up in her seat at the back next to Santana.
"I will be honest Brittany, I actually understand what you mean by being a king in this jacket, or in my case a princess, since I am female and my marital status is single," the brunette answered, twirling around in the red and white jacket.
Mercedes sang in a sing-a-long voice. "Oh she won't be single for long."
"Berry, what the fuck are you wearing?" Puck asked aloud, looking over Rachel a second time and smirked his approval, ignoring the Schue's muttering of watching his language.
"Clothes," was Rachel's response, unaffected by her choice of clothes. Like she had a choice to begin with.
"Looks more like you are trying to draw some attention to yourself… more than you already do."
Every student that was not Puck or Rachel groaned as loud as they could. Only Puck would say something stupid and offend Rachel Berry at the same time. "Seriously, what is the matter with that boy?" Mercedes questioned out loud.
Rachel turning into a volcano would have been an understatement. "Excuse me? What did you just say?" Finn was pretty sure lava was going to come out of her mouth with every word she spoke. "What are you suggesting, that I so-call 'whore' myself out like Santana? … No offence Santana."
"Oh I am pretty sure that was meant to be a compliment," Santana commented with gritted teeth.
"Seriously Berry, have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately?"
"Strike one," Matt called out in hushed tones.
"Are you trying to insinuate that I am ugly?"
"I'm saying that with those clothes, you just want to be raped."
"Strike two," Mike called out, joining in on Matt's commentary as Puck leapt out of his seat and approached Rachel, who was fuming in her spot. Sure, Rachel noted how he was practically towering over her, but she could always kick him in the nuts if all else failed.
"That has to be one of the most horrendous things to have ever come out of your mouth."
"I can show you how to make you come with my mouth helping."
"Ooh, foul," Artie called out, also chiming in with Changerford. "Can he step up to the plate?"
"You are the vilest, disgusting and neanderthalic person in this universe, and I hope you remember my words when you drop dead in your jail cell at the age of twenty-seven."
"And I hope you babe are in rehab for your constant tics and crazy attacks."
"Strike three!" Mike, Matt and Artie shouted, as Puck and Rachel stormed out of the Glee room and went their separate ways. The smoke coming out of their ears could still be seen in the room "And he is out… literally out the room," Mike added.
"Are you done with the football commentary?" Quinn enquired, looking annoyed that the trio found Puckleberry argument no. 784 a joke.
"Looks like Puck is jealous that Rachel is showing more skin to everyone than to him," Tina noted, before adding, "Even though it was more leg skin."
"He is not the only one affected; Rachel is even making up words to support her arguments. I mean 'neanderthalic?' Come on!" Kurt sighed, twirling Katy around on his finger. He was never letting this hat out of his sight ever.
"If only the jacket she was wearing belonged to a footballer that is not Puckerman," remarked Quinn, a devious smile forming after saying her words. "And that will definitely be arranged very soon."
While the Glee club discussed what their next approach would be in their plan to get Puckleberry together, neglecting the fact they were meant to commence a Glee lesson and they were two members short, Will just stared at the exit, expecting Rachel and/or Puck (it wasn't that he disliked Puck, it was just that knowing the boy, he would wag any class if he got the chance, Glee club included) to come back through the door. After a few minutes, all Will could say was, "But class had not even started."
"Mr. Schue, if I may," Quinn commented, walking –more like waddling– past him to nab an unopened packet of Cheetos, scaring the bejesus out of him. She may be pregnant but she was very good at sneaking up on people. "You may as well as join in our conversation since we are not going to pay attention to whatever you planned for today. Just accept the fact that Puck and Rachel are always going to want to kill each other, even if our plan succeeds. They are total opposites but it makes us want them to get together even more. She is the yin to his yang, the peanut butter to his jelly sandwich, the fruit to his loop, the pop to his tart."
With that, both the pregnant blonde and the teacher both chuckled at the double entendre she slipped in. "No wonder Pluto isn't regarded as a planet, it's all due to those two. Because of them, there is going to be another round between Mars vs. Venus."
Gaahh, why do I have to go back to uni tomorrow? WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY?!
Also, my dad's birthday is in a few days so I guess I should be a good daughter and dedicate this chapter to him... even if he has no idea what fanfiction is, more or less how to change the password on the computer (CTRL-ALT-DEL dad, CTRL-ALT-DEL!). Regardless, this is for you dada! So like usual:
SMIGGLE!
R&R!