Sorry for the lateness of this chapter. I picked up a new foster puppy last week, and she has turned out to have some issues that require a specialist. At 12 weeks old, she is nearly blind, and may need surgery to have any hope of seeing again. If anyone can donate a little money to help her, it would be appreciated. Those who donate can get a preview of what's coming next, or an outtake from this or any other story. I can even work up a short story of your choice if you want. This little puppy was found starving and nearly dead in a ditch, and has fought really hard just to survive and I want to give her the best chance possible.
If you can possibly help out, you can donate at
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If you do, PM me what you would like in return.
On a lighter note, there is no one I love writing more then Sue. She's so, so evil.
Kurt POV
Today might be the most important day of my life. Well, most important in regards to my popularity, at least. Clearly the most important day of my life had been the day Finn first kissed me.
I think the two of you did a little more then kiss that first night. Kurt Anthony, you are a wanton little hussy.
Now, if I had been a girl, that night would have been enough to catapult me to instant popularity. Dating the quarterback was all but a guarantee of being on top of the McKinley High food chain. It was like winning a backstage pass to fashion week in a radio contest. No effort, instant results.
By the way, I'm sure that there's some sports metaphor that means the same thing, but if I ever fall so low as to use sports for anything other then staring at Finn, I need to be taken out back and shot.
Since I wasn't a girl, though, dating the quarterback wasn't going to do anything but lead to Finn being thrown into a dumpster right along side me. High school was draining my very soul. Or, to borrow a disgusting but appropriate phrase from Finn, it sucked donkey dick.
And just so we're abundantly clear, since a lot of people seem to be confused on this fact, I do not want to be a girl! I didn't wear dresses, or desire to grow breasts or get my period once a month. I like being a boy. I like my penis, and, while my body isn't as satisfactory as I might wish it were, I certainly don't want things switched around on it.
Come on now, Kurt. Remind me again what the difference between a dress and a kilt is?
The difference was that kilts were traditional and masculine, and dresses were for girls. Or very, very, fashion forward men. Personally, I thought that I had the legs to pull off one of the more daring numbers, but I'm not that foolish. The corset almost got my legs broken; I couldn't even imagine what a dress might do.
Whatever. It has an exposed crotch; it's a dress or a skirt. Period.
Whatever, and back at you, Ms. Galinda. Even Finn knew that a dress wasn't the same thing as a kilt. Granted, I had had to explain it to him, but he had accepted it pretty happily once I did.
If I recall correctly, he accepted it because you gave him a blow job right after your explanation, which means that he would have accepted anything that you could have possibly told him.
Yeah, well….anyway, lets get back to this being one of the most important days of my life. Under normal circumstances, I would have spent at least an hour and a half choosing an outfit, but today that wouldn't be necessary. As soon as I got to the school, I was supposed to report to Coach's office, where I would get a tracksuit, just like all the other male Cheerios. Finally, I was going to have a uniform of my own.
Does it bother you that she's already become 'Coach' in your mind? You haven't attended a single practice and have barely spoken a civil word to the woman, but you're suddenly best friends. I need you to be very, very careful.
Finn's words came back to me, echoing cruelly in my mind. She's really sneaky, and she'll make you turn on people, even your friends, before you really know what's going on.
I hurriedly pushed that thought away. Coach wasn't going to do anything to change me. I was smart, and I would be able to spot any of her ploys from a mile away.
Pride goeth before a fall.
It would be fine. Besides, I had Finn watching out for me. The very same Finn that was making me dinner tonight. He swore that he had already planned a menu, and would have everything he needed. When pressed, he had admitted that Rachel helped with both the menu and the shopping, but that he had done everything else.
I hadn't bothered asking exactly what was left to be 'everything else'. The idea of cooking for me was extremely sweet, and I didn't want to ruin things be being persnickety.
In the end, I went with something simple, just skinny jeans and a striped shirt. I was running late as it was, and I still had Finn to pick up. I still felt terrible about the way I had acted last night, so I made sure I left early enough to get Finn a gift from the 24 hour Walmart. 7 am was way too early for fluorescent lighting and cheery music, but I knew what I had to do. Considering the sacrifices Finn had made for me in the past 24 hours, I had to be willing to do the same for him.
I've been on Finn about being ready on time for the past few weeks. If we didn't get to school within a 10 minute window, the hockey team would be up and patrolling all of the main entrances to the school. Finn still provided me a certain amount of protection, if for no other reason then his sheer size, but it wasn't enough for every day.
He's usually pretty good about it. Finn sleeps very deeply, and doesn't tend to wake up until just before he needs to be outside. Fortunately, when you're Finn, all you have to do to get ready is grab the nearest Abercrombie shirt and pair of jeans and rush out the door. If the nearest pair of clothes was on the floor, oh well. In Finn's mind, the 5 second rule applies to clothing as well, only it's a five day rule instead. After a week or so of lying on his floor, even Finn wouldn't put it on (or back on, but I tried not to think about that) his body.
Sometimes, like today, he still cut it a little close, and ended up racing out the door as I pulled up. I could never get angry with him for it, since he was usually so sweetly apologetic. Plus, Finn's an enthusiastic kisser in the mornings (actually, at all times), and it's really very difficult to stay angry with someone when they're sucking on your ear.
Something Finn is well aware of.
I didn't doubt it. For someone with as many difficulties as Finn has, he knows my body better then I do. The car bounced as he tossed himself inside, launching his backpack into the backseat without looking. "Hey, Kurt! Morning." He leaned over to kiss me on the lips. "I love you."
"I love you, too." I pointed backwards. "Present for you in the backseat."
He didn't exactly squeal (though I think he had to bite it back pretty hard), but he did made a very excited noise when he saw the helium filled balloons floating back there. Only three, but, to Finn, that was a good as a dozen. Especially since they were the nice mylar kind. Two tie-dyed one and one smiley face that said 'I Love You' in big letters. "No way! Is it my birthday?" Then his eyes narrowed. "Wait, is it your birthday? It's not, right? March 31?"
He was so sweet. "No, it's not my birthday. Those are your balloons, and there's a card underneath them."
"Awesome!" He gave me another kiss, sliding one hand under my shirt to trail along my spine.
I pulled out. "Card, Finn." If I don't remind him of things gently, he would totally forget that it was there.
"Right, right." He pulled it out and read over it. Then he read it again, and then a third time. "Really? Because, you know you don't have to."
Any chance I might have had to back down was over. "Really."
His smile could have lit all of Lima for at least a week. I had chosen a card with a puppy on the front, and a blank inside. I had almost left it that way, but my courage had finally
surged up, and I had written down a quick message"
You. Me. Tonight. You on Top.
He grinned and rubbed my shoulder. "You have really pretty handwriting."
"Handwriting? I just offered to put out for you for the very first time, and you're all caught up in my handwriting?" I tried to sound offended, but it was really too funny for that.
"Well, no. You also have a really pretty ass, and I'm going to hit that later. But doesn't it sound classier when I say you have pretty handwriting?"
Privately, I thought that it did, but I wasn't going to say it out loud. Finn waited until we were at the red light to kiss me again. "You're sure? Because you don't have to put out just because I did."
"I'm sure. Remember, I won't be at lunch today, because I have to go take care of some stuff for the Cheerios." I watched his face closely, and, sure enough, I saw the tiniest flinch when I said that.
"Sure." He covered it as best as he could. "I guess I won't see you until Glee, then?"
"Right. So give me one more kiss to last all day?" I had to do something to erase that look.
As I've said before, Finn loves to kiss. He leaned over the gearshift and gave me the sort of kiss that could melt glaciers. Sometimes Finn's an incredible romantic, and sometimes he's just a horny teenage boy.
A horny teenage boy who was currently trying to unbutton my pants. "Finn Hudson!"
I suppose it says something about where he and I are at that he didn't even bother coming up with an excuse for what he was doing. Instead he cocked his head and gave me that quirky little smile. I grabbed both of his hands. "Absolutely not."
"Fiiinnneee" He drew the word out comically, then wiggled his eyebrows. "Can I do it later?"
"Of course." I have no idea what Finn's weird obsession with taking my clothing off for me was about, but I was willing to roll with it.
He nodded. "I'll see you at Glee, then." Again, there was the tiniest undercurrent of resentment in his voice, but he covered it well.
Watching him walk away caused my chest to tighten painfully. Usually we would walk together, but we were headed in opposite directions today.
You can still back out. So what if Sue Sylvester hates you? She hates everyone. And we both know that Finn isn't the type to rub it in.
Even Galinda was against me. I wanted to do this for myself, why was that so bad?
It's not. But please listen to what Finn was trying to tell you. He's not right about much, but he's very right about this.
Ok, ok, I get it! I needed to keep my eyes open and stay wary. And speaking of staying wary, I needed to pick up the pace and slither by the boy's locker room. I moved at a pace that wasn't exactly running, since that might incite them to chase me if I got caught, but it was definitely quicker then a jog.
"For God's sake, Doll-face, what's wrong with you?" Apparently Sue had been lying in wait for me. "When you run like a frightened rabbit, you make everyone want to chase you like a wolf, including me! Walk like a man or grow a vagina, I don't care which, but pick one."
Why had I signed up for this abuse again? "Um, ok?"
She sighed dramatically. "No! Don't ask me, tell me. If you plan on choosing the lady-parts, though, I need to know now, so I can get you a skirt instead of a track suit. So what'll it be?"
I knew that even the slightest hesitation would result in me parading around the halls of McKinley High in a way too short skirt. Boys are not allowed to wear dresses, skirts, or kilts according to our school dress code (do not ask my how I know this), but none of the rules ever apply to the Cheerios or their coach. I pulled my shoulders back and glared. "I can walk like a man." It came out strong and confident.
"Good to know." She led me into her office. "Now strip. You'll have a loaner uniform by the end of the day, but I need custom measurements for the real one."
My arms crossed over my chest reflexively, as if that could hold the clothes onto my body. "What? No way."
"There is no room for extra material in top level competition. None. So I need to have accurate measurements to ensure that you have minimal wind resistance when you're being tossed at 65 miles an hour."
You get nauseous on almost every ride at Cedar Point. How do you expect to be flipped over several times during a 5 minute routine and not barf? This isn't what you want and you know it.
It was absolutely what I wanted! I would just take some Dramamine before we went on. It would be fine. This was exactly what I wanted.
You hate sports. All sports. Getting on the football team was a desperate bid to impress both Finn and your father, and getting on the Cheerios is a desperate bid for some popularity. Neither one happened because you have even the slightest interest in the sport involved. Granted, the football gamble paid off big time, as evidenced by your new boyfriend. But all this is going to get you is Coach Sylvester seeing you naked.
Yeah, well….shut up Galinda! Just to prove how wrong she was, I uncrossed my arms and started unbuttoning my shirt. "I know all of my sizes, so this might not be necessary."
Her lip curled as she looked over my outfit. "The point is for it to be form fitting, not for it to cause a testicle to fall off from lack of circulation. You know, Doll-face, your voice might have dropped more if you weren't compressing your ability to produce testosterone."
My voice was a bit of a sore point with me, and it took everything I had not to react. If she didn't think she could get to me, she would eventually give up, wouldn't she? So, instead of snapping out a biting retort, I forced myself to look down and keep stripping.
"Not bad for a first try, Kid, but, like everything else, there's plenty of room for improvement. That's half of your problem, right there. You let everyone know that they hurt you, and that just drives their bloodlust higher. You cry, or you say something rude back, and you let them know that they've gotten under your skin. Drop the pants, too."
That I wasn't going to do. Instead I held my arms out at my sides so she could measure me. "You say rude things back."
"The difference is, I can pull it off. When I say something cutting, people scatter in fear. When you do it, you always sound like a 4 year old threatening to tattle on the bigger kids. You have to sound less hysterical."
Upon reflection, she did have a point. But did I want to be as frightening as Sue Sylvester? I didn't think so. I didn't need the jocks at this school to be afraid of me. I didn't even really need them to have any respect for me. I just wanted them to leave me alone. While I thought about it, she jerked her thumb at me. "The pants."
Still, I hesitated. Unlike with Mr. Ryerson, I didn't feel sexual molestation was imminent. But I hated taking my clothes off in front of anyone, including Finn, and there was really no reason for this when I already knew all of my measurements.
"Now." I gave her a beseeching look, and she rolled her eyes. "Do you think I have even the slightest interest in what you have down there? Do I look like the quarterback?"
This is boot camp. The first thing she has to do is break you down until you obey her every order unthinkingly. Then, once she has a mindless drone, she can start reshaping you into what she wants. There's no way for you to fight her and win, especially since you signed up for this, so either undo your pants or walk out that door.
I was ashamed, but I took a deep breath and unfastened my jeans. It took her less then 20 seconds to take the measurements, which were exactly the same as the ones I could have given her, and an additional 15 for me to get my clothes back on. She pointed at the desk. "Now sit down."
This time I didn't hesitate, and dropped into the chair. Coach Sylvester pulled out a huge stack of papers. "Your father is going to have to sign and initial each one of these. You're going to need releases for, but not limited to, injuries, skydiving lessons, horseback riding, travel, skiing lessons, trips to Cedar Point, and anything else I deem necessary to create the best team possible. Do you understand me?"
My voice came out as an overwhelmed squeak. "Yes."
"Yes…." He eyes were locked on mine, and I had to resist the urge to just fall over and pillbug on the ground.
What did she want? What did she want? My brain spun in panicky circles. Then I got it. "Yes, Coach."
"Better. But next time those better be the first words that come out of your mouth, no matter what my request. Got it?"
"Yes, Coach." This time I was quicker.
"Good. Your uniform will be ready by tomorrow. You will no longer be attending your usual gym class. Instead you are to report here for your first weigh in. Now get out of my office."
I was more then glad to do so. Since my books for first period were already in my backpack, and Finn thought I would still be in Coach's office, there was no reason for me to go by my locker.
Luckily, Mercedes met me in the hallway. "Hi, Baby." She put her arms out and I folded myself into them. She rubbed my back.
I smiled at her. "Did you get fitted?"
Her own smile fell off of her face. "Yeah. Did she make you strip down to your underwear, too?"
The fact that it wasn't just me made me feel a little better. "Yes. She didn't believe that I knew my own measurements."
She nodded, but she seemed distracted. "What's wrong?
"It's just…I don't think I'm going to look very good in that short skirt. I mean, I know that I'm a big girl, and I'm ok with that, but….well, look at Brittany or Santana, and then look at me. I know what I look good in, and skirts like that aren't it."
I had to tread very, very, carefully here. Everything she was saying was 100% correct, but even I wasn't foolish enough about women and their ways to actually tell her so. Mercedes was gorgeous exactly as she was, but we all have areas that we need to disguise, and hers did happen to be her thighs. "Maybe it won't be that bad."
The look she shot me could have frozen fire, so I tried again. "Maybe we can fix this."
"How?" She didn't sound very hopeful, but at least we were trying something.
"We could…" My mind spun frantically, trying to come up with something, anything. "We could…" Maybe the repetition would help me come up with something.
"It's hopeless. I wanted to be join the Cheerios to make me more popular. But I'm not going to be more popular if everyone is laughing at me. I could have just stuck with Glee for that." She leaned back against the lockers and looked down. "I'm just going to tell her that I can't do it."
Inspiration hit me with the force of a speeding train. "Got it! Tell her that you would rather wear a tracksuit instead of a skirt! She can't say anything about it, because she does the same thing. Besides, it's all the same, right? Same colors, same logo."
One of Mercedes' best features is her smile. "That's a great idea. See, I knew there was a reason I kept you around."
We chatted as we walked to class, and I felt a sudden longing for the way things had been at the beginning of the year. When it had just been me and her, both sneaking glances at Finn, who was completely oblivious, and giggling about it. The sort of silly things that I would have been doing with a friend for a few years, only I hadn't had any friends to do it with. Really, I had only had a three or four months of having a bond with anyone my own age, before a relationship with Finn was added into the mix. It hadn't felt fast at the time, but, in retrospect, things had moved a little quickly.
But things hadn't moved too quickly when I finally had him, which was what really mattered. As much as I had been somewhat afraid of sex with Finn, I would be lying if I didn't say there was a part of me that craved it desperately, almost from the first time we kissed. A wild part that just wanted him to rip the clothing off of my body and take me right in my basement, with the remnants of the party still upstairs. A part that wanted very badly to allow him to fuck me, as if that would be enough to make him stay with me.
That wouldn't have been how it happened. Finn might have gone along with it, since he can be convinced to do just about anything if you can get his dick hard, but he would have run as soon as the act was complete. No, as the lack of mutual freak outs proved, we had taken things at the right pace.
But sometimes I just missed it being Mercedes and I, the awesome twosome. That was the other reason I wanted to join the Cheerios so badly. It would be something that she and I could do together, just the two of us again.
And if I happened to improve my flexibility enough that I could try a few new moves in the bedroom with Finn, well, I would just consider that a bonus, now wouldn't I?
Skank. But keep going, I kind of like it.
She would. But she was just going to have to wait until tonight, just like everyone else. By everyone else, I mean Finn and I. And Ms. Hussypants Galinda. And whoever it was that Finn talked to in his head. I knew that he did, because I could see the way his eyes would glaze and his lips moved as he conversed with someone who wasn't there.
Normally I'm a very conscientious student. I need top grades so I can be in the running for a scholarship to New York. Competition for those is absolutely brutal, and I refuse to defer my dreams for even a year.
Today, though, I was all over the place. Nerves about what was going to happen at lunch were warring with nerves about what was going to happen later today. Finn had promised about a million times that Rachel would be gone long before I ever showed up, which was both good and bad. Good because I wasn't at all sure that I would even be able to get an erection with Rachel Berry within a 10 mile radius, and bad because, if she wasn't there, it would be just me, Finn, and his penis. The same penis that he planned on shoving inside of me before the evening was over.
Ok, now I was starting to freak out. If I didn't cool it, I was going to start sweating, and Kurt Hummel does not sweat. I just needed to worry about one thing at a time. So what if Coach was going to give us a mini-physical today? I was in fantastic shape, at least as good as half the team, so I had nothing to be ashamed of. Just because I looked like a pale white flat-chested girl with my shirt off, that didn't mean anything. No one would notice, right? Right.
That thought soothed at least part of my nerves, and I forced myself to get back on track and actually pay attention to pre-calculus. I would worry about tonight after lunch, when my nerves from the physical were completely over.
Since the universe hates me, though, that's not what ended up happening. Coach Sylvester didn't give us any privacy or even bother separating us by gender for our weigh ins. She just called out the numbers for everyone to hear. Only then, once the numbers had been put out there, did she bother to introduce either Mercedes or I.
"Ok, all of you out on the field! I expect 100 laps followed by 75 sit ups! And the five who finish last will be doing twice as many after school! There is no room for losers on this squad. And, speaking of losers, Kurt, Mercedes, in my office now. You have both officially failed your first physical."
We exchanged looks. How could we have failed when we hadn't even done anything yet? We both took our places across from her and stared guiltily into her face. She was completely unmoved. "Ladies, what we have here is a grade 'A' dilemma. Mercedes, your vocal cords have had more fantastic runs then a Kenyan track team, but that look simply will not do. I know that neither one of you has a real uniform yet, but I made myself very clear. School colors, tracksuit for you, skirt for you. What is difficult about that?"
Uh-oh. Apparently Coach Sylvester doing something did not mean that the rest of us could get away with it. Deep down, I had already known that, but I had still hung onto hope that we could get this done with minimal embarrassment on anyones part.
Knowing that she had a captive audience, Coach Sylvester kept right on going. "At first I thought it was a subtle homage to yours truly, but now I fear that it's some kind of ironic comment."
I tried not to look as confused as I felt. What could possibly be considered ironic about pants instead of a skirt?
Mercedes tried to explain. "Ms. Sylvester, I'm just not comfortable in those Cheerios skirts. They don't fit me right."
I jumped in, knowing that she and I had to present a united front. "Mercedes, you shouldn't feel embarrassed about your body." There was no way that Coach Sylvester didn't know what the problem was already, but I felt like I had to put it out there.
She gave me a devilish grin and squared her shoulders at us both. "I'm not embarrassed. I'm worried about showing too much skin and causing a sex riot."
What I wouldn't give for one tenth of her confidence. She might not feel it inside, but on the outside, she looked like she truly believed what she was saying. It was impressive and enough to make us both laugh.
We lightly touched fingers and smoothed our hair in tandem, our own secret code.
Coach didn't look particularly impressed. "How do you two not have a show on Bravo?"
Sometimes, I think she can read my mind and see into my secret dreams. My own show on any network? Sign me up.
Since she didn't seem to have cowed us, she leaned forward. "Here's the skinny. Splits magazine, after much campaigning by one Sue Sylvester, has named me cheerleading coach of the last 2,000 years. In seven days, reporter Tracy Pendergrass will arrive on campus, and my new star singer will have lost 10 lbs and be in a gender-appropriate cheerleading uniform, or she is off the team."
To my complete shame (though I only felt that much, much, later, as in several days later), my first thought wasn't to defend Mercedes. My first thought was that, about 3 hours ago, she had been telling me that I was her new star singer. My second thought was that she hadn't had any qualms about threatening to put me in a gender inappropriate skirt right about the same time. For those first few seconds, Mercedes didn't enter my mind at all.
See? Now it was Finn's voice in my head, and I could almost see his hurt brown eyes staring at me. It's starting already. Divide and conquer, and she's trying to split the two of you up.
The words snapped me out of my stupor and allowed me to find my voice. "Ten pounds? Are you serious?" There was no way should could drop 10 pounds in a week. No one could without putting their health in serious danger.
The cold eyes gave me a quick once-over. "You could stand to lose a few, too kiddo. You've got hips like a pear."
My jaw dropped so quickly I felt it pop. I did not have hips like a pear! I was a perfectly normal weight, possibly a little on the small side. I was in no way, shape, or form, overweight. I wasn't fat. Was I?"
Neither one of us was able to formulate words, which was exactly what she wanted. If the point of this boot camp was to break us down, then she had more then succeeded.
The worst part was, she knew it. She smiled and sat back. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to put in a call to the Ohio secretary of state, notifying them that I will no longer be carrying photo ID. You know why?"
Neither one of us even tried to reply, but we didn't need to. She just kept right on going. "People should know who I am."
That seemed to be the end of what we were needed for, so we both stood up and walked out. Mercedes glared at me. "I'm out. There's no way I'm going to lose 10lbs in a week just so she can be on the cover of some magazine that no one's ever heard of. I am not sacrificing my health and this fine-ass body for Napoleon in there. I quit."
She turned, no doubt to go back in there and tell Coach Sylvester exactly what she had just told me. I grabbed her shoulder. "Mercedes, wait." I sounded desperate, even to myself, and she paused. "Talk quick, because I need this anger to give her a piece of my mind."
"Just…give it a chance. She probably didn't mean you had to lose 10lbs, that's just a number to try for. Come on, do you really want to give up before we've even started?"
She wasn't buying it. "Ok, look. I'll give it one week, but only because you want me to. If at the end of that week, she's still pushing me to make myself into something I'm not, you will personally be taking me to the Cheesecake Factory and buying me whatever I want." I started to agree, and she held up a hand to stop me. "Whatever I want. Either bring a credit card or lots and lots of cash."
"Done." I leaned over to kiss her on the cheek. "Thanks Mercedes. You have no idea how much this means to me."
"I think I do, and that worries me, Boo. But it's over and let's not talk about it now. Let's talk about something more fun, like your dirty plans for tonight."
As much as I loved her, I still couldn't bring myself to tell her what I was planning to do tonight. Once it was over, maybe, but I would never be able to look her in the face again if I wimped out. "I do not have dirty plans for tonight! I have romantic ones. Finn's going to make dinner for the two of us."
"You're going to let Finn cook? I hope you plan on bringing some Pepto-Bismol." Her dubious face made me laugh.
"Rachel's going to help him. Don't worry; I wouldn't trust Finn to make dinner all on his own."
"If Rachel's going to help, then bring some ipecac as well. Finn might poison you accidentally, but she'll do it on purpose, to get her man back."
To my own surprise, I found myself defending Rachel. Now that we were no longer in competition for Finn, I could see that she did have a lot of nice qualities. Plenty of bad ones, too, but she did have a lot of heart. "She's not that bad now that she knows she can't have Finn. Plus, she's got that new boyfriend, so she's really nice to me."
"I think the new boyfriend is fake. Has anyone ever seen him? Do we even know his name? Plus, what sort of man actually wants to date Rachel Berry?" Her hand found mine, swinging absently.
"Hey! My sort of man wanted to date Rachel Berry! It was a very dark period in his life." A dark, gross, period that I tried not to think about.
"I'll bet he's never met Rachel's new man either."
Actually, I did find that a little suspicious. With the octopus-like way Rachel had attached herself to Finn at every conceivable opportunity, I would have expected that the new boyfriend would get the same treatment. Even if he didn't attend McKinley, she should have been bringing him around to Glee practices or something. "That is a little strange. But I'm sure Finn told me his name one time, I just can't remember what it was. She's probably just waiting to reveal him at the perfect time, like he's the phantom of the opera or something."
That made sense. I might be dramatic, bur Rachel redefines the word. "I'm sure we'll see him eventually. She's probably got him chained up in the basement until he can hit the high B."
The warning bell rang, making us both jump. She hugged me and I could help but notice that there was a tiny bit of tension between us, just like there had been between Finn and I this morning. 24 hours on the Cheerios and I was already fighting with two of the most important people in the world to me. This wasn't going according to plan at all.
I thought about it all through the rest of the day. I had always claimed that I didn't care what people thought. That I would dress how I wanted, and act how I wanted, and everyone else could just go screw themselves. I had managed it for almost four years, ever since I turned 13 and my Dad ceded complete control of my wardrobe over to me. Three years of having no friends, no boyfriend, and nothing worth hanging on to. So why was I willing to give that up now that I did have those things?
Ego. Your finally have something worth showing off for, and you're desperate to do it. You want Finn to see that he made a good choice with you, and you think this is how you're going to do it. Why do you think that he's willing to cook you a meal when Carole barely lets him use the microwave at home?
True. But while I might be many things (cute, stubborn, divaish, fabulous, and bitchy all came immediately to mind), one thing I was not was a quitter. I would dig my heels in and give this Cheerios thing an entire week, then make an educated decision about whether or not I was willing to keep going. Any longer then a week and I either had to be completely in or completely out, no more waffling. It was unfair to the team to do anything else.
I could barely contain myself until Glee, when I would get to see Finn for the first time since this morning. As an added bonus, the practice room was a safe haven. Now that the glee club all knew about it, I didn't have to hold back from touching of kissing the love of my life.
I was so excited that I didn't even look at the Cheerios uniform that was tossed my way, complete with the requisite insult (I spent two hours looking for a uniform small enough for you. Do you plan on hitting puberty at any point during your high school career?). Since it was going to need to be washed and pressed anyway, I just stuffed it in my satchel and kept on going. If he knew what was good for him, not to mention his sex life, Finn would be waiting for me.
He was. He had planted himself on the risers, perched so he could see me the minute I came in the door. Good thing, too, he barely had time to stand as I ran to him and jumped into his arms. He staggered a little as he caught my weight, which made me wonder if Coach Sylvester wasn't right after all. Was I too heavy?
No. He's standing on a riser, Kurt, so his balance isn't the best, and you jumped pretty hard. Don't let her get to you.
Finn twisted me playfully so we were face to face. "So, the evil Sue-beast didn't eat you?"
I shook my head and he leaned down to whisper in my ear. "Good, because I'm the only one who gets to do that."
Oh, look at that, the temperature in the room just jumped 20 degrees. How pissed would Mr. Shue be if I just decided to skip glee altogether and just go home and let Finn screw my brains out? With the way Finn was sliding his hand under my shirt while nibbling on my lip, it was becoming a distinct possibility. And both Rachel and Quinn claimed that the man had no ability to multitask.
"Hello, Ladies the Puckasaurus is- Dudes! Uh-uh, no one needs to see that!" Puck physically recoiled, as if we were sending gay cooties straight across the room to him.
"Speak for yourself. I think they're adorable." Luckily Tina was there to come to my rescue.
"I think it's hot. Maybe they'll go all the way and we can watch." There are times when I think Britney possesses no mental filter at all.
Her words seemed to remind Finn that we had an audience, and exhibitionism is not one of his traits, so he let me go. "You're all just jealous."
Puck smirked. "Whatever. I can have anyone I want, male or female. More then one female at the same time if I wanted to!"
Santana snorted. "For the last time, Noah, that isn't going to happen."
He caught my eye. "It'll happen, Hummel. And when it does, you'll all know about it."
I'm sure we would. Were Finn and I the only couple in glee club that didn't have to flaunt every sexual move we made?
Mr. Shue came storming in, his eyes dark and furious. "Glee is canceled for today." His voice went very tight, and I knew that it was taking everything he had not to scream. "Apparently, Coach Sylvester requires both the practice room and the auditorium three days a week, so we need to find somewhere else to practice. Don't worry, guys, we'll get this sorted out. I'll find us a new home."
Normally, getting out early would have been something to celebrate. It meant that I would have extra time to spend with Finn, having plenty of fun. But Rachel would be taking him home today and helping him with the meal he was preparing. I had been specifically instructed to stay away, so it would be a surprise. I was to come over at 6, no earlier.
So I went home alone, and busied myself with washing and pressing my Cheerios uniform so that it would look nice. Then, because there was no one there to see me and laugh, I had to try it on. It didn't fit exactly right, but I couldn't deny the sense of power that came with it. Wearing this, I would finally be special. I would be somebody.
You're already somebody. You're your father's son, and Finn's boyfriend and the only contratenor in the glee club. You have a 3.8 grade average, which would be a 4.0 if you put forth any effort at all in gym class. You have the ability to create a designer looking outfit out of last year's fashions.
Yes, all of that was true. But couldn't I be those things and be a Cheerio as well? Why should I stop at just a few things that made me special, when there might be even more of them?
You shouldn't. But don't make the mistake of thinking that a cheerleading squad is going to be what changes your life.
I knew that. But right now I just wanted to admire myself in the mirror, wearing my favorite color and studying myself. I turned this way and that, smoothing the fabric and looking critically at myself. Long legs, flat stomach, I thought I looked pretty good. Definitely not as chubby as Coach Sylvester had made me out to be.
Except she probably did know what she was talking about. After all, the Cheerios were athletes, and having all of them in perfect shape was what had won her trophy after trophy. If she thought I needed to lose a few pounds to be perfect, she was probably right. I already ate pretty well, so it shouldn't be difficult. Plus, now that Finn and I were having sex, I could think of a lot of ways I might burn those extra calories.
The thought of burning those calories made me a little nervous, but not as nervous as I would have been if I was the one to bottom first. If Finn could tough it out, so could I. Besides, I would be lying if I didn't admit that this was something I had been curious about for a very long time. I had always assumed that I would bottom exclusively, just based on the stereotype of what a guy like me would want. My fantasies never really included topping, just because it never occurred to me that it was something I would ever do.
Finn allowing me to do that with him was a gift that I could never repay, even if he didn't really seem to understand how important it was.
With that in mind, I jumped in the shower and made sure that I was extra clean. I wasn't sure exactly what the etiquette was here, but I didn't want to give Finn any reason to complain.
Finally, though, there was nothing left to do but take a few deep breaths and get in the car. There was nothing to worry about. Finn would never hurt me, and I really did want to give myself to him like this. It would be fine. I just had to keep reminding myself of that. This would be just fine.