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

A shadow crossed Puck’s face. “Really? I thought you said that they didn’t want to get divorced.”

I shrugged while shutting my locker. After clearing my throat, I mumbled, “Well, looks like Dad changed his mind. Mom came home last night to find a letter or something, stating that he was leaving.”

Puck winced. “My dad did the same thing.”

A silence fell between us, since we were starting to approach sensitive and personal territory. A school hallway was not the place to discuss that.

“I better get to class,” I mumbled, going on my tiptoes and kissing him on the cheek. “I’ll see you in Glee.”

“You’re still going?” he questioned with an edge of surprise.

“Yeah. Just because my parents are getting divorced, which was a long time coming, doesn’t mean that I’m going to skip Glee. I need all the practice I can get dancing.” I tried to keep my voice light, but it wasn’t working out too well.

Without another word, I slipped into my classroom and settled into my seat, sinking down so no one could see me. Of course, my gesture seemed to attract more attention, since a number of people asked me if I was alright. Part of me wondered if Puck told anyone, but then it occurred to me that even if he had (which I hoped he hadn’t), it hadn’t enough time to circulate the school.

School went by extremely quickly, which stunk, since the last thing I wanted to do was go home and face the situation there. Most of me knew that my current situation was better than all the screaming and yelling that took place before, but that didn’t matter to me all that much.

Glee was excruciating, having to work my hardest to perfect dance moves, and even then, they felt awkward. Glaring at Santana and Brittany, both of whom picked up the moves within seconds perfectly, I wished that I could be like that. But I was just Ellie, who wasn’t great at anything.

On the way out of the school, Puck and I were quiet. I could sense that he felt uncomfortable asking me anything, which I understood. Had the circumstances been reversed, I would have felt the same way.

It wasn’t until we were in the car that he said something, “So are you sure you’re…you know…okay?”

“It’s alright to ask me flat-out,” I chuckled lightly.

“I don’t talk about…feelings.” He made a distorted face to emphasize his point, which made me laugh a little harder. It felt wrong being so easy-going when I was going through some hard times. Almost to the point of guilt.

“Well, not that you care, but I’m fine. A little too fine.” I had finally gotten over my state of shock from earlier, but I still didn’t want to go home and have to see Mom cry and e-mail Dad about arrangements for the divorce. That was what I was assuming would be going on, anyway.

“I care,” he replied defensively.

I shot him a look that he didn’t catch, since his eyes were focused on the road in front of us. Part of me actually believed that he did care, he just had a funny way of showing it. Most of me, however, knew that he couldn’t care about anything but himself.

When we got to the house, I leaned over and pecked him quickly. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“I’ll text you,” he promised before the door closed between us.

When I walked into the house, I was surprised to find that no one was home. I figured that Mom would have skipped work or something. Then again, maybe she went to get her mind off everything. It wasn’t a bad idea.

After my homework was done, I stared at a wall for a while, not really knowing what I was supposed to do next.

Instead of doing anything productive, I found myself staring at the TV blankly, flipping through the channels. From the back of my mind, I heard my cell phone go off. Even as I reached for it, my thumb continued to press the button that moved through the channels at a rhythmic pace.

u sure ur gonna be ok alone

Sighing and laughing a little, I texted Puck back, saying that if he really wanted, he could come in the house. The front door was locked, but he picked the lock last time, so why wouldn’t he have been able to do it again?

Soon enough, he entered my room and sat down on the bed. “You didn’t even leave the driveway, did you?” I accused him, not able to keep a straight face.

“Nope,” he grinned, taking the remote from me. As he worked through the channels, his face became distorted and disgusted. “There’s nothing on this damn thing.”

“I had already figured that out,” I admitted with a chuckle. “So what should we do?”

“Make out?” he suggested, moving closer to me. I leaned in and pecked him for a second before I pulled away.

“Nice try,” I snickered, “but no cigar.”

“I didn’t ask for a cigar…” His voice got a slightly angry tone, as it usually does when he knows that he’s being stupid, but doesn’t want to admit it.

“It’s just a saying,” I sighed, shaking my head. “Never mind.”

He scoffed, as if he was above such human sayings, and lied back down on my bed, staring at the ceiling. “So, I gotta say,” he started, stopping to yawn, “you’re taking the thing with your parents pretty well. Way better than this morning.”

“I’m getting over it,” I shrugged, lying down so I was next to him. He wrapped his arms around me, and I laid my head on his chest. I could hear his heart beating, which comforted and unnerved me at the same time.

“Your bed is comfortable,” he told me.

I let out a snort that was a little too loud for a statement that was not even really supposed to be a joke. “Thanks.”

He didn’t answer me, my only response the sound of his breath.

“Puck?” I questioned, hoisting myself up on my elbow so I could look at him. He was clearly sleeping, his face smooth and peaceful, his breath deep and even.

Shrugging a little, I scooched a little closer to him, resting my head back on his chest. My eyelids became heavy, and I allowed them to close, shutting out the world besides Puck and me.