And Here's What You Missed on...GLEE

When I shut my locker and turned around, Santana was standing there, Brittany right behind her.

Santana was a pretty Latina girl with tan skin and dark hair and eyes. She was about an inch taller than me and was extremely thin.

Brittany was around five feet, seven inches tall with long blonde hair and bangs that swept across her forehead. Her eyes were clear and blue, and her brain was nearly nonexistent.

“So, I’ve been seeing that you and Puck have been hanging out a lot lately,” Santana pointed out, crossing her arms.

I was a little scared of her, but I refused to let it show. I just mimicked her movements and answered, “And?”

“I just want you to know that he’s mine.”

“You need to make up your mind,” I blurted. “One second, you say that you two aren’t dating, and the next, you’re threatening girls to stay away from him. All you really do anyway is have sex with him.”

“I don’t care if we’re official or not. That still doesn’t mean that you can date him. Are we clear?”

“I don’t even know why you’re approaching me!” I laughed. Santana looked surprised with how casually I was taking her confrontation. “I’m not with Puck. So you have nothing to worry about.”

“And it better stay that way,” she warned.

“Santana,” Brittany whispered a little too loudly, “I have to go feed the bird in my locker.”

“When are you going to get rid of that thing?” Santana snapped, but they ended up leaving anyway.

I let out a breath that I hadn’t realized I was holding. Then, after regaining my composure, I made my way out of the school. Puck had pulled up out front, and he was drumming his fingers against the steering wheel.

“You okay?” he asked. The awkwardness between us had disappeared, and I blamed everything on him being in a weird mood. “You’re pale.”

“I’m always pale,” I chuckled.

“I meant even more than usual.” He put the car in drive and pulled into the street. “So are you alright?”

“Sure,” I responded, shrugging. “Santana threatened me about hanging out with you, but I just told her that nothing was going on. I find it funny how she feels she has a claim on you when all you do is use her for sex.”

Puck tensed a little, so subtly that I barely noticed it. “And we haven’t done that in months. I don’t know. She’s just possessive, I guess.”

“I guess so.”

“So, anyway, moving away from Santana,” Puck started, turning onto my street, “when are we going to start our duet project? And do you have any ideas?”

“Ideas, no. And we could start tomorrow, if you want. We don’t have school, so…” I shrugged.

“Sounds good. The only thing is…my little sister is having a whole bunch of friends over tonight, and they’re staying over, so it’d be kind of a madhouse if we practiced at my place.”

“So we’ll rehearse at my house. It’s not like you don’t know where it is,” I solved without thinking. Though, revisiting the idea, it probably wasn't the smartest idea... But it was too late to take it back.

“Okay, cool. So I’ll come over at, like, noon?”

“Sounds like a plan,” I smiled. “Thanks for the ride, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He nodded, and I shut the door before disappearing into my house.

* * *

“Oh my God,” I whined, running a hand through my long hair so it fell differently over my shoulders. “Why can I not pick a duet? This shouldn’t be hard…”

Finally, instead of just thinking about different songs in my head, I brought up my internet browser. After typing in “famous duets” into Google, a list came up.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” I muttered, laughing slightly. “How could I not have thought of that?”

* * *

Bright and early the next morning (I’m talking eight o’clock. On a day where I didn’t have to go to school. Honestly?), I woke up to my parents biting each others’ heads off. Why?

“What the hell?” I snapped, running down the stairs in my flannel pants and oversized t-shirt. “Do you guys have to argue now?”

Mom turned to me angrily. “This is none of your business, Ellie.”

“It kind of becomes my business when you wake me up early in the morning,” I grumbled.

Dad totally ignored me, and the second I left the room, he picked up where he left off. “There is absolutely no way that we’re getting rid of it. I need that car!”

“You don’t use it!” Mom yelled. “We’re making continuous payments on it, and it just sits there. We only need my car, since you don’t go anywhere all day. I do all the shopping and working and errands and everything else that needs to be done.”

“And what if you’re at work, and I want to hang out with some of the guys?” Dad argued.

“You don’t have any friends, so I really don’t think that’ll be a problem.”

“How do you know? You’ve barely talked to me without arguing for two years!”

I let out a long sigh. I could agree with that last statement. “Look,” I broke into the ‘conversation’, a bagel with cream cheese on a plate in my hand, “I have a friend coming over today to work on some Glee Club stuff, so will you both leave?”

“What friend?” Mom questioned.

“Just a friend. Does it matter?”

“It’s not the faggot, is it?” Dad’s eyes narrowed.

“Please don’t refer to Kurt that way,” I ordered. “But no, it’s not. He’s straight, and we need to work on our duet. What I really don’t want is you two arguing in the background the entire time.”

“Well, you can’t be in the house alone with a boy…” Mom trailed off.

“Wow, thanks for your trust, guys. Really.” I rolled my eyes dramatically before making my way up the stairs, disappearing back into my room. I wasn’t really surprised that they wouldn’t be willing to leave the house. Maybe I should have lied and said my friend was a girl…

At a few minutes past noon, I heard a knock on the door. Since my house was so small, I could hear a lot, even with my door closed. It was a curse, really.

I darted down the stairs and opened the door for Puck, who had his guitar strapped around his torso. Mom and Dad had temporarily stopped arguing, probably in response to knowing that we had a guest.

“We’re going to work on our song,” I said quickly before pulling Puck up the stairs. When we got to the top, Mom and Dad started yelling again.

“Yikes,” Puck expressed with wide eyes once my door was closed and my parents couldn’t hear him.

“I hate them,” I sighed. “They literally do that every second that they’re both in the house together and they’re not sleeping. It gets real old.” I shook my head to try to get rid of the thoughts. That wasn’t the time to worry about my parents, it was time to pay attention to our assignment.

“So, did you pick out a song? I meant to look for one, but um…I got distracted.”

“I don’t even want to know,” I laughed. Sitting down on my bed, I pulled out my laptop from underneath it and brought up the page.

“(I’ve Had) the Time of My Life?” Puck read. “Sounds familiar.”

“It’s a pretty famous song,” I informed him. “It’s from Dirty Dancing, though I’m not sure you’ve seen that, considering it’s a chick flick and all.”

“I’ve seen it,” he responded, rolling his eyes. “Anyway, sounds cool. Bring up a site with the chords or something.”

I did as he said, and he started playing. “Now I’ve had the time of my life,” Puck started to sing.

We went through the song once before smiling at each other. “That sounded pretty good, if I do say so myself,” I congratulated cockily.

“Yeah, I like it,” Puck agreed. He finally moved from the chair against the wall where he’d been sitting to next to me on my bed. After placing his guitar against my bureau, he turned to face me. “It was a good song choice.”

“Thanks.”

There was a silence of a second, and I felt butterflies erupt in my stomach once I realized how close he was to me.

Slowly, Puck leaned forward and kissed me softly. Embarrassed, I jerked back quickly, turning away and blushing.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing. You don’t want to know.”

“Yeah, I do. What?” His tone was almost verging on angry at that point. Whoops…he probably thought that I was thinking something bad of him.

“This is so humiliating…but that was kind of my first kiss…” My face heated up even more, and I put my face in my hands to try to hide it.

“Don’t worry about it,” he shrugged. I looked back up at him, and he leaned in again.

His face was a centimeter from mine when Mom started stomping up the stairs. “Bastard,” she hissed loudly.

“I HEARD THAT!” Dad screamed.

“Maybe I should go…” Puck trailed off, picking up his guitar and standing up.

“I’m going with you,” I decided, throwing my shoes on. Then, the two of us were out the door.