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

Soon enough, the weekend rolled around. It was hard to see Grayson go, but Aunt Piper promised that he would be back soon enough.

And then came Saturday, when Puck came over to teach me what songs we were doing for Sectionals. Which was fine, because I was going to get to be with him. That part made me happy.

What pissed me off was that he decided to come at ten thirty in the morning and wake me up when I had gone to sleep at four that morning. Six and a half hours of sleep just wasn’t going to do it for me.

“Wake up, sleepyhead,” his smoky voice lured me to consciousness.

My heart would have started beating fast if I was awake and aware of what I was doing. But since I wasn’t, I just picked my pillow up from under my head and chucked it at him. “Go away,” I mumbled, turning over and pulling the comforter over my head.

“Don’t you want to rehearse?” he questioned, acting like he was shocked. What was he doing up so early anyway? I had pegged him for the type to sleep until three in the afternoon.

“Not now,” I yawned. I was on the brink of falling back to sleep when I felt my bed leave from under me. It took me until I was placed on my feet to realize that Puck had literally picked me up and made me stand, forcing me to wake up a little bit.

He grinned at me. “Well, good morning, Sleeping Beauty.”

“That was a dick move,” I snapped at him before shuffling off to the bathroom. When I came back, he was still smiling, waving a CD in his hand.

“Wanna know what we’re doing?”

“Sure,” I sighed, sitting back down on my bed and feeling my eyes start to get heavy. Puck seemed to sense this and pulled me back to my feet, keeping his hand locked tightly around mine. Even in my half-dead state, my heart gave a little lurch.

Oh, good God. What the hell was wrong with me?

The smooth sound of In the Ghetto by Elvis filled my room, and I stared at the radio. “That’s Artie’s,” Puck informed me.

“Artie’s getting a solo?” The shock of this wakes me up a bit. Normally, Finn would get all the male leads, and Rachel would get the female leads. The idea that Artie was getting a ballad and a solo were both pretty awesome.

“Yup,” he answered, his lips popping on the ‘p’.

“I love this song,” I smiled. Slowly, but surely, the heaviness in my eyelids were starting to lift.

“Me, too,” he agreed. Suddenly, the song picked up tempo, and Jailhouse Rock started to play.

“We’re doing a whole Elvis medley, eh?” I turned toward Puck and looked into his light brown eyes.

“Yup. Everyone loves Elvis.”

“This is true,” I nodded. We finished listening to Jailhouse Rock, and I grinned. “Alright, so what’s last?”

“This is the song that you and I get to sing,” he finished, reaching forward to press play.

Suspicious Minds started to play, but it was a slightly sped up version. “This is my favorite Elvis song.”

“It’s a good song.”

“How long did you have to argue with Rachel and Mr. Schue to let us sing this?” I joked.

He shrugged with a smile playing on his lips, so I knew that it took some effort, but he wasn’t willing to share exactly how much effort.

“So did you learn any dancing yet?” I questioned.

“Nope. Just worked on the vocals. Wanna practice?”

“Sure,” I agreed.

He raised a finger, signaling me to hold on a second, and he disappeared into the hallway. When he came back, his guitar was in his hands as he worked to get it around his neck.

Starting to play some chords, I picked up the first verse.

We’re caught in a trap
I can’t walk out
Because I love you too much, baby.
Why can’t you see
What you’re doing to me
When you don’t believe a word I say?

We both sang the chorus, and Puck picked up the second verse. When it came to the bridge, I took the first half, while he took the second.

“Well,” I cleared my throat when we finished. “That was pretty good.”

“Yeah. Needs a little bit of work on your part, but it was alright.”

“We have good chemistry.” I worked to try to keep my voice as nonchalant as possible, but it was obvious from the words themselves that I liked him. Maybe he wouldn’t pick up on it?

The smirk on his face told me that he could see right through it. Of course he would. He had tons of girls like him ever since school started.

Puck put his guitar behind his back and stared at me. We were pretty close already, so he just had to reach up to run his finger against my jaw.

Something had taken over me by this point, my mind not controlling my actions.

Running my eyes from his eyes down to his lips, I went on my tiptoes and connected my lips to his. He closed the small gap between us, cupping my face in his hands as our lips moved in sync.

After a while, I pulled away, but our faces were still so close that I could feel his breath.

“You totally initiated that,” he smirked knowingly.

“I know,” I whispered, feeling my face heat up significantly.

“That mean you like me?”

“That means I don’t hate you,” I teased.

“So does this mean that you’re going to give me a chance?” His eyes were so intense that they were almost smoldering my soul.

Sighing, I finally gave in. “Fine, but if you even so much as look at Santana, I’m dropping you like a bad habit.”

“Done,” he agreed, leaning in to kiss me quickly again.

The second after I gave him the go-ahead, I kind of questioned it. I was setting myself up for heartbreak, but I was putting my faith in him. Part of me knew that it was the wrong decision, but I could only hope that he wouldn’t let me down.

“Alright, so should we try the song again?” he suggested, moving back and pulling his guitar back around and positioning his hands perfectly. He started to play the song, and I kicked the song off with the first verse.

Soon enough, it was getting close to dinner time, and Puck wanted to leave. “I could cook something here,” I offered.

“No, it’s alright. My mom’s ordering Chinese takeout, so I kinda want to be there for that. But maybe we can hang out tomorrow?”

“If you’re lucky,” I laughed. I walked him out of the house and watched as he loaded his guitar gently into the backseat before climbing into the front seat. Right before he stepped into the car, he smiled and waved, sending a couple butterflies fluttering through my stomach.

“Who was that?” Mom questioned, watching the retreating car.

“No one,” I covered quickly, shutting the door and disappearing into the house. “No one.”

Could that be any further from the truth?