Quinn's expression fell, so she immediately pulled out her phone and speedialled Puck's number.
"I'm not doing this!" She said through gritted teeth.
"You've got to, I've got no money, have you?"
"Not enough! Puck, I can't dine and dash! Where are you anyway?"
"I'm outside," Quinn turned to see Puck standing by the main door's window, smiling and waving. "You've gotta do it now, before the waitress comes back."
She whined a little, but she knew he wasn't going to budge. He was just as stubborn as she was, and there was no way either of them could pay, so leaving was the only option.
As casually as she could, she stood up and walked towards the door, swerving out of sight from their waitress. Once she crossed the boundary onto the street, she let out a big sigh of relief, and expressed that relief by running over to Puck and punching him the arm. He held his arm, not realising how strong she was, but was still laughing.
"Why did you do that?"
"Have you ever done it before?"
"No…"
"Then that's why."
"Ok, so what's up next on dare night?" They were walking slowly down the dark cobbled street, while the streetlights lit the way.
"Well, we play pranks." Puck casually pulled out a small tube of superglue and a ten dollar bill.
"How old are you, 11?" She giggled, mainly because she'd never played any pranks.
"C'mon, you're never too old for pranks."
"I think you are."
"Wow, hit me where it hurts, my age!" He laughed as he took her down a small side street revealing a large cul-de-sac full of incredible sized houses.
"So, what pranks? Pull my finger?"
"No, a much better one." He told her as he put the dollar and glue to use. He spread a layer of glue over the back of the dollar, then handed it to Quinn. As they stood in the middle of the neighbourhood, surrounded by wealthy homes, Puck pulled Quinn into the nearest hedge. They hid round the side, which gave a clear view of the first house.
"Go and put this on a doorstep, then ring the bell." He whispered, referring to the dollar.
"What?"
"Go, now!" He quickly pushed her into the street, then when she turned back, he ushered for her to continue. After sighing deeply again, she quickly ran to the door, putting her athletic skills to good use, and placed the dollar on the ground. She turned back to see Puck's smiling face, and so she knew she couldn't back out now. She took a deep breath, then rang the doorbell and without giving it a second thought, ran back to the hedge. The living room light flickered on just as Quinn reached Puck, and they both looked ridiculous as they popped their heads round the side of the hedge.
"Why would they even pick up ten bucks, they're rich!" Quinn moaned quietly, just as the woman opened the front door.
"They're not just rich, they're greedy." He muttered. They kept their eyes on the woman, who's silk nightgown and designer slippers screamed that she didn't need that ten dollar bill. But, as Puck predicted, she still leant over to try and attain the money. Her eyebrows furrowed as she tried time and time again to lift the money, each with more force. Normally, Quinn would find this childish and one of the most boring things ever. But for some reason, maybe the fact it was her doing the prank, or that she was here with Puck, she found it hysterical. She let out a high pitched giggle and Puck nearly jumped out of his skin. He'd never heard her proppely laughed before. And he loved it.
"Shhh, she's gonna hear!" Puck whispered, although he was nearly laughing himself. They were crouching, which didn't allow Quinn enough balance, especially since she was in a fit of giggles. She fell backwards onto the grassy floor, pulling Puck down with her as she went. Puck threw his hand over Quinn's mouth, in an attempt to hide her giggles, however in doing this, he found the situation gradually getting funnier and funnier. She similarly placed her hand over his mouth, so both were in hysterics, with each other's hands over their mouths.
"Damn kids!" The woman shouted, obviously hearing their laughter. Puck eventually moved his hand, after looking into her eyes. It fascinated him how the most basic situations could turn into unforgettable moments, merely by Quinn being there.
"That was fun," She whispered as her eyes connected with his.
"Yeah." He gulped and tried to look away, but he just couldn't. He only managed to break the gaze when his phone beeped, prompting him to answer it. He awkwardly sat up, casually brushing some grass off his legs as he searched in his pocket for his phone.
"Everything ok?" Quinn noticed Puck's expression change, as though he felt uncomfortable or nervous.
"Uh, yeah, yeah, it's just my friend Tommy," He muttered as he shoved his phone back into his pocket. He pulled himself up, then proceeded to help Quinn up.
"So, what's next?" She wouldn't admit it, but the whole 'dare' thing excited her, especially the guy she was doing it with.
"You hungry?"
"Not really, why?"
"You'll see soon." He winked at her with excitement and began leading her back through the dark street.
The two stood outside a cheesy, lit up restaurant, full of middle-aged bald men most likely hiding away from their hill-billy wives. The luminous sign that read 'Honkey-Tonks' lit up, but flickered annoyingly from time to time.
"Honkey Tonks. Really?" Quinn asked exasperatedly, giving Puck a slightly pleading look. He simply smiled and took her hand, leading her into the smoky, western music bar.
She looked down at their hands together and felt a strange warm feeling in her stomach. She couldn't remember the last time a guy took her on a date, held her hand, and actually made her feel worth something.
They walked past several men yelling at the TV screen above the bar, some asleep on the bar, others twitching their moustache and many screaming nonsense to the players scoring.
"Why are we here?" Quinn asked.
"Well," Puck began when he took them to the opposite side of the bar and found a small, wuite wobbly, round table. "Check the sign." He pointed to a sign above the door.
"Try our seriously hot, burn your mouth, singe your tongue, get-this-out-of-my-mouth hot wings! $200 goes to whoever can finish a plateful." Quinn read, where she immediately shook her head. "No. I can't handle spicy food! I'm gonna throw up!" She whined.
"Too bad, 'cos I already ordered them!" He laughed as he turned around, signalling to a short, bald man by the bar. Within seconds, the man brought out a tray of wings, looking and seeming typically normal. He carefully placed them in front of her and gestured for her to begin.
She sighed at Puck, but was quite competitive anyway, so wouldn't deny a challenge like this.
"My. Mouth. Is. Burning." She whined inbetween deep breaths. Her hands were smeared with the hot sauce, but she had only three more wings on her plate. "I can't do it." She said, pleading to Puck.
"Come on! Only three more!" He encouraged.
"Can I get some water?"
"No. Against competition rules." The short man interrupted, with what sounded like a Russian accent.
"GO QUINN! GO QUINN! GO QUINN!" Puck chanted, which strangely gave her the motivation to finish.
Three chicken wings later, Quinn had finished. The owner reluctantly handed over the $200, while Quinn chugged a jug of water.
"You did it. You know there are grown men who can't do that?" Puck was ecstatic as they left, while Quinn was still trying to rinse her mouth with a bottle of water.
"I was pretty bad-ass." She admitted proudly. "So, where're we going next?"
"I just need to stop by the bar and make sure the new guy's doing alright."
"New guy?"
"Yeah, he's pretty useless, so I just wanna make sure he's doing ok."
They reached the bar quite quickly, and it was swarmed with people. Puck held her hand again when they entered, but Quinn believed he did it mainly so she wouldn't get lost in the crowd.
"I'll be right back!" Puck shouted to Quinn, to which she nodded in reply. While he went to assist the new bartender, who was spilling beer all over the floor, Quinn took a seat at the bar and checked her phone.
Mercedes: Hey, what time u comin home gurl?
Quinn: Might be late, don't wait up!
After replying, Quinn put her phone securely back into her clutch and shuffled slightly on the stool.
"Can I get you a drink?" A stench of extreme alcohol and many cigarettes approached Quinn, and the stumbling voice caught her attention. Standing to her left was a guy who fit the exact category for her past douchebag boyfriends. His blonde hair was styled perfectly, and probably cost more to cut than her parents' mortgage. His suit was so shiny it could've easily blinded her, and the only thing that smelt worse than the cigarettes was the overuse of his cologne.
"No thanks, I'm here with someone." She replied shortly, turning back round, hoping he'd take the hint. But unfortunately, he didn't.
"Oh, what's his name? One night with me and I guarantee you'll forget it." He told her confidently, moving closer to her. His face etched closer and closer to hers.
"Look dude, I'm not interested." She figured that if she used the word 'dude', it might allow him to comprehend what she was saying.
"We're playing hard to get are we?" He asked flirtatiously, leaning in to kiss her. She abruptly jumped off her stool.
"I told you, I'm not interested." She replied firmly, pushing his chest away from her. Unfortunately, he was a lot stronger and got more forceful. He held her shoulders and moved closer again, despite her squirming.
Just as he was about to suck her face, Puck grabbed him from behind with such force that he almost fell backwards onto the floor. After regaining his balance, he looked at Puck, who was standing confidently in front of him.
"Puckerman." His eyes narrowed and his tone lowered. "You still think you run this place don't ya'?" He laughed mockingly.
"You should go home, you've had one too many," Puck gestured to the door, then proceeded to turn around to Quinn.
"You okay?" He asked gently, but before she could reply, the drunken man grabbed Puck's shoulder and turned him around, with the intention to slam his fist into his face. However, in his disorientated state, he wasn't quick enough, so Puck managed to grab his wrist and push him backwards.
"I 'ent scared of you Puckerman!" He shouted. "You're a nobody, man! This 'aint high school, I've got no problem with kicking your ass, man!"
"'Cos that worked out so well for you every time before?" Puck asked, a smile creeping on his face. "Just go home Johnson." The man, obviously called Johnson, swung for Puck again, but just like before, Puck dodged, then instantly pushed his fist out, hitting the drunken man exactly in the eye. He fell on the bar, pulling several drinks down with him, while Puck shook his, now very red, fist, trying to relieve some of the pain.
"C'mon," He muttered to Quinn, as he reached for her hand. Quite scared by what she'd just whitnessed, she went with Puck before any other fights broke out. As she turned around to see the man on the floor, she saw Rachel out of the corner of her eye.
"Crap," She muttered under her breath.
"You're meant to be making a good impression on my friends," Quinn dabbed the sponge into a bowl of warm water on the kitchen counter, then dabbed it on Puck's cut knuckles, which were spread out in front of her, while he sat on a stool. He had changed into jeans and a vest top, and leant her the shorts and shirt she borrowed on the stormy night.
"Sorry." He winced slightly at the pain.
"Why did you hit him?"
"Well, let's see: He tried to stick his tongue down your throat and then tried to punch me twice."
"What're you trying to prove, that you're stronger?"
"No, that… I just.. I don't know." Puck's voice trailed off.
"Did you two go to the same high school then?"
"Yeah, lucky me, right?" He laughed.
"Why didn't you get along?"
"Well, I…" His voice trailed off again, as though it was hard to talk about. Quinn noticed this and stopped dabbing his fist. She looked into his eyes, which somehow gave him the courage to say it. "I used to be just like him," He looked at the ground, not wanting to see her expression. "Then when I decided to change, he called me crazy, and tried several times to beat me up." He laughed nervously.
"Why'd you change?"
"Didn't like who I was." He told her bluntly. They both paused for a moment, until Quinn broke the silence.
"Well I'm glad you did change. Because there's no way I would've gone out with douchebaggy Noah Puckerman." He smiled at the ground, while she gently ran her thumb over his cuts. "It was kinda hot y'know," She tried to keep a straight face, but the corners of her mouth turned upwards slightly when he looked at her.
"Oh really?" He asked, quite surprised. "You like my war wounds?"
"War wounds?" She asked, laughing. "It was stupid. Really stupid. But… I don't know… A guy who can defend a girl like that… it's pretty nice." She placed the sponge into the bowl of water and carried it over to the sink as she spoke. She then returned and stood in front of Puck. "It's just annoying that you're coming off as an aggressive drunk." He smiled and playfully reached for her hand. Their fingertips brushed against each other.
"You don't seem like the type of girl who cares what other people think,"
"I don't. Most of the time. It's just, these are my friends, and… I just want them to know you like I do. I want them to see you how I see you."
"And how do you see me?"
She gulped, but moved closer, allowing his hands to fully wrap around hers. "A sweet," She moved even closer. "Kind," She moved closer again, so their forheads were nearly touching. "Considerate," She bit her lip. "Handsome," Her voice was barely a whisper. He sweetly pushed a piece of her hair behind her ear, then held his hand on her cheek as he kissed her. It was intense and passionate. So much, in fact, that Puck stood up and carried Quinn into the living room, her legs wrapped around his waist. He gently placed her on the sofa, while he climbed on top of her, but was careful not to hurt her. He deepened the kiss, while she tugged on the back of his Mohawk for support. Their lips separated for a few seconds, but what felt like a lifetime, while Puck pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it into the corner of the room. Her hands made their way to his abs and she couldn't help but let out a subtle 'Oh My God' at how defined they were. Although it was subtle, Puck still heard and smiled into the kiss.
Seconds later, Quinn's phone buzzed. "It's probably my Mom, just ignore it," She mumbled. However, the phone buzzed several more times. Annoyed at the disturbance, Quinn said she'd answer it while Puck used the bathroom.
Quinn never realised that she and Puck had the same phone, but she soon did when she picked up his by mistake. She was just about to put it back on the table when she saw a text that intrigued her.
Tommy: "Hey bro, heard you hooked up with Chelsea yesterday, how was she?"
Puck: "Yeah man, tell you the details later."
Quinn's expression dropped. She read it a couple more times, just to understand she read it properly. Puck walked in moments later smiling, but then saw her expression.
"What's up?" He asked concerned as he stood at the other side of the room.
"Why don't you tell me?!" She asked, her tone quiet, as she threw his phone at him, something that confused the hell out of him. He raised his eyebrows, but instantly looked at the screen. His head dropped, ashamed.
"Look, Quinn, it's not-" He started before being interrupted by Quinn, who was now gathering her things.
"I actually thought you were different." She told him, slightly laughing. "I thought you weren't like every other jerk on the planet."
"I'm not, Quinn I can-" He ran over to her and tried to reason with her, but she was too irate.
"Save it. Save your pathetic excuses for someone else. Everyone was right. And y'know what, you almost had me. I almost fell for this act. I guess I'm the fool, right?" She stormed towards the door and before he could anything else, she turned and said shortly, "Stay away from me.", before slamming the door behind her.