Lima Loser.

Monday morning. My eyes fluttered open to the sound of my alarm, which played “Beat It” every single morning. So, basically, Michael Jackson was the reason I woke up every morning.

I looked over at the clock. 6:01 AM. I hopped up and went directly to the bathroom, where I got in the shower.

While cleansing myself, I thought about Friday and what happened with Puck. Did he actually kiss me, or was everything one big dream? No, it most definitely wasn’t a dream, because I still had the weird feeling in my gut that hasn’t been there before. Did I…like it? Maybe.

I refused to tell Rachel that she was right after all, because then she’d rub it in my face and rant more about Puck. And to be quite honest, I didn’t want to hear any of it. So, yeah, I’d lie to her. For all the right reasons.

I got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around myself. I went to my bedroom and picked out the first thing that jumped out of my closet at me, which just so happened to be a pair of dark wash skinny jeans, and a purple fuzzy turtleneck.

I went back out into the bathroom and brushed my hair out, and then went downstairs for some breakfast. I actually just grabbed a granola bar, shoved that down my throat, and headed back upstairs to brush my teeth and do something with my hair.

Once I was finished brushing my teeth, I took out the blow dryer and dried my hair a little bit. I then debated whether to straighten or curl my hair. After playing “eenie meanie miney moe”, and straight winning ten times, I settled on straightening my hair and curling the ends. Everybody wins.

“Courtney!” my mom called out.

“Yeah?” I called back.

“Wanted on the phone!”

I ran downstairs, and picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

“Hello!” Rachel’s annoying voice went right through me. Sure, she was my best friend at school, but holy shit. She really knew how to irritate someone.

“Yes, Rachel?” I said in a cutesy but annoyed voice.

“Going to school today?” she asked, excitedly.

“Is there any other reason I’m up at 7:30 AM?” I rolled my eyes.

“Well…you know my early morning routine…maybe you decided to join in.”

“Sorry, Rachel. Not into exercising and listening to your show tunes that early in the morning,” I laughed. “Oh, but I have a surprise for you and the Glee club at rehearsal today.”

“What is it!?” she sounded so friggin’ excited, I kind of wanted to wrap the telephone cord around her neck a few times.

“You’ll see,” I smiled. “I have to finish getting ready, but I’ll see you in school, okay?”

“Okay, see you there!” she hung up.

I sighed a sigh of relief and went back upstairs. I continued fixing my hair until it was straightened perfectly with loose curls at the bottom. I had to admit, I was rockin’ the five-year-old Sunday school attendant look. I quickly applied some frosty blue liquid eyeliner and mascara, some foundation, and I was good to go.

I went back into my room, grabbed my iPod and cell phone, and went to chill in the living room until my bus came.

I checked my phone to see four missed calls and three texts from Puck. The texts said:

I just finished practicing…a lot.

Courtney?

You hate me, don’t you? I’m really sorry…

I noticed that all three texts were sent the night before, so there wasn’t much point to text him back. I’d just talk to him in school.

A few minutes later, I had to go wait at the bus stop, which just so happened to be directly in front of my house. I stood outside until it came to pick me up, and I hopped on and took a seat near the front, because the front was the less gossipy place, and as much as I respected Kurt for being Kurt, gossip wasn’t mah thang.

After about fifteen minutes, the bus arrived at school. I got off and was instantly face-to-face with whom? Quinn Fabray.

“Umm… good morning,” I was a little taken aback. I mean, why the hell was she in my face like that?

She rolled her eyes. “Let’s cut to the chase. I see the way you stare at my boyfriend during rehearsal, and it’s kind of unsettling. I mean, I know you’re not used to McKinley, but here’s the drill, Blondie. Finn is mine, and only mine.”

“I wasn’t trying to take your boyfriend,” I tilted my head. “I mean, he’s cute, but…no.” I also wasn’t aware that I stared at the poor guy. I glanced at him here and there, but I definitely didn’t stare.

“Just making myself clear,” Quinn smirked. “So, if you thought you had a chance with him…think again.”

“Pretty sure I wasn’t even thinking about him in the first place. I might have said two words to the guy since I’d transferred here, so, uh…get your facts straight, Cheerio,” I pushed past her and into the front doors of the school.

I looked behind me to see if she was following me, but she wasn’t. I headed to my locker, wondering who else I’d have to face, but luckily, nobody was there. Not even Rachel, who’d been stopping at my locker a lot the week before.

I checked my schedule and saw that I had Art first period. For some reason, I enjoyed Art. It was a slack class, and slack worked for me. I grabbed my pencil and sketchbook, and wandered off to Art class, hoping to avoid Rachel, Puck, Quinn, and whoever else wanted to bother me.

Instead, I literally bumped into Kurt, knocking his books to the floor.

“Geez, I’m sorry!” I winced, and then knelt down to help him pick his books up. “I’m such a klutz.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Kurt smiled at me. “I’d rather you knock my books over than the jocks any day.” He picked up the last of his books and stood back up, brushing off his jeans. “Thanks. The jocks usually just slam me into the locker, throw my books down, and walk off.”

“You mean like this?” Puck walked by, basically throwing Kurt to the locker, which resulted in the books falling to the ground again. Puck just laughed and walked off.

I shook my head and muttered a “Nuh-uh” before marching up to Puck and grabbing his shoulders. He turned around, surprised that I’d actually chased after him. Kurt stood back at his locker, just as surprised.

“What the hell is your problem?” I yelled, with an in-your-face attitude all the way.

“The same problem you have with totally ignoring me after Friday night,” Puck glared at me.

“Uh, what?”

“Don’t play stupid. I texted you three times and called you four times last night, and you have yet to text or call me back. That’s my problem.”

“Okay, asshole, listen up. You probably shouldn’t jump to conclusions. The reason I didn’t reply last night was because I fell asleep at like eight, and the texts were sent at ten. Do you expect me to just wake up and jump for you? No. I was asleep, and I can’t sleeptext,” I snapped.

He just looked at me. “Oh…”

“Yeah. And I think Kurt over here deserves an apology,” I pointed to the tiny stylish-looking boy standing at his locker, staring at me like I was some kind of hero.

Puck shrugged and walked over to Kurt. “Sorry, man. I need to control myself.”

“Might wanna work on that,” Kurt nodded, and then added “But it’s okay. I’m used to the abuse that you guys seem to love putting me through.”

I walked up to them. “Won’t happen again, right, Puck?”

“Right,” he gave me a look of honesty.

I brushed my hands together, and continued towards Art class, realizing that I’d made a jock apologize to a misfit.