Are You Questioning My Badassness?

“Quiet down, please,” my English teacher, Mr. Clement, walked into the classroom the next period. English was my noisiest class. Good thing I was really great at English. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to score the A’s I was scoring now.

Nobody really listened to Mr. Clement, and the noise didn’t tone down at all. I guess they didn’t find him very intimidating, considering he was 5’2, shorter than 90% of the students in the school.

“Excuse me!” he tried again. This time a few students looked up at him and stopped chatting with their friends. Only a few, though.

Eventually, he slammed his hand down on his desk. “LISTEN UP!” he screamed. “NOW!” Everyone turned their attention towards him. “I was going to cancel the quiz today,” he began, flapping the papers he held in his hand in the air. “But I don’t take disrespect very well. So, here ya go.”

He began to pass the quiz around to everyone. It took me about ten minutes to finish it. When I was done, I started passing notes to Puck, who was also in that class. He sat right across from me, so it was easy to pass notes without Mr. Clement seeing. In the note, I asked Puck how he thought he did on the quiz.

Shitty, was his reply.

You should’ve studied.

I know. So, was our performance in Glee club amazing or amazing?

Haha. It was pretty amazing. Everyone thinks we’re dating though.

Awesome.

What?

Nothing.

Right.

What are you doing today after school?

I don’t think I’m doing anything. Probably just some homework or catching today’s Oprah.

He laughed out loud when he read that. I dig Oprah. Wanna chill?

Sure. TV with Puckzilla could be fun.

Don’t mock me. Hahaha. Wait for me at your locker and I’ll drive us over to your or my house. Preferably, yours.

Deal. I was about to pass him this note, but Mr. Clement caught my hand reaching out, clutching a piece of folded paper, and he knew what was going down. He came back to my desk and practically grabbed the paper out of my hand. “Thank you.”

I thought he was just going to throw it in the trash, but he unfolded it, read our whole conversation, and decided to share it with the rest of the classroom. As if the rumors of Puck and I dating had to get any worse.

“In case anyone wants to know, Nova and Noah are going to be watching Oprah after school,” Mr. Clement told the class. Everyone laughed, and I just glared at him. Why would he even read that out? I was pretty sure he wasn’t allowed to do that. I was pretty sure I could sue that motherfucker.

He then looked back at me and Puck. “Office.”

I rolled my eyes. “Way to make a big deal out of nothing,” I muttered, and didn’t really care if Mr. Clement could hear me or not.

“What was that?”

“Way to make a big deal out of nothing,” I mouthed to him, just to piss him off.

“Get out of my classroom,” he pointed to the door.

Puck and I stood up. I gathered my books, assuming I wouldn’t be back anytime soon, and we both left the classroom.

“God, I hate that guy,” Puck said, angrily, once we got out into the hallway.

“He must have some nerve to read out our notes about Oprah,” I chuckled.

“Figgins won’t do anything about this,” Puck told me. “Trust me, I’ve been there. Note-passing is the least of Figgins’ concern. He’ll be thrilled when he finds out I didn’t destroy another car in the parking lot, or better, a ribcage.”

I laughed, and before I knew it, we had arrived to the office. We sat in the “bad kid” chairs until Principal Figgins came out and looked at us. “It’s a surprise seeing you here, Mr. Puckerman,” he said with tons of sarcasm. “Come into my office and take a seat, please.”

We both walked into Figgins’ office, and sat in two chairs. Figgins sat behind his desk and just looked at us. “What’d you do now?” he gave Puck an exhausted look.

“Nova,” Puck gestured to me, “and I, were passing notes in Mr. Clement’s English class.”

“No, seriously,” Principal Figgins looked at us like we were the biggest liars in the world. “What did you do? Where’s the slushies? Where’s the crowbars, flat tires, stolen cash?”

“I’m being serious,” Puck told him with a straight face. “I know I’m kind of an a-hole to everyone, and I steal way too much, but I’m serious. You can even ask her.” He pointed to me.

Figgins looked over at me. “Yeah,” I nodded. “He speaks the truth for once.”

“Oh,” Principal Figgins looked so relieved. “Well, in that case, go back to class. And no more note-passing.” That was it? Just a simple warning?

We both walked out of the office, laughing about what had just happened and how long it took for Principal Figgins to believe Puck.

“Yeah, he was expecting way worse than a note. He was expecting to hear about someone’s death due to me or something,” Puck told me.

“That’s terrible,” I replied. “You really need to start behaving.”

“Maybe,” he shrugged. “Speaking of behaving, I’m not going back to Mr. Clement’s class. Fuck that. I’m skipping.”

“Hey, wait, what? No. I’m not going back to that class by myself,” I stopped him.

“Well, don’t. Skip off with me for the rest of the afternoon. We may be able to catch Dr. Phil,” Puck joked.

I looked up the hall at Mr. Clement’s classroom, and then back at the office. “I can’t skip. They’ll call my mom, and she’ll be pissed.”

“That’d be something to see,” he waggled his eyebrows.

“Pervert.”

“I know,” he laughed. “Anyway, skip with me. If your mom asks, tell her you were sick. And I doubt anyone will call your house anyway. Did you not notice how careless Figgins is?”

“True,” I shrugged. “Let’s go.”

I grabbed my jacket in my locker, and we exited the school. We both hopped in his truck, and after our seatbelts were on, he shoved his keys into the ignition.

“Wanna go out for ice cream?” he asked me.

I didn’t even hesitate. I couldn’t resist food, or a “date” with Puck. “Sure. Ice cream and Oprah. Sounds awesome.”

“Ice cream and Oprah and Puckasaurus. Sounds even better,” he smirked.

“You are so full of yourself,” I informed him, as if he didn’t already know.

“People that look like me need to be,” he flexed his arms. “Am I right?”

“Totally right,” I told him. He looked over at me to see if I was kidding or not. He then cranked up the tunage.

“This song is great,” he stated, and I had to agree. He began to sing.

Puck:
“Baaaby, here I am.
I'm the man on the scene.
I can give you what you want,
But you gotta come home with me.”

“I have got some good old lovin'.
And I got some more in store.
When I get through throwin' it on you,
You gotta come back for more.”

I joined in for the chorus, and he looked over at me, a little surprised.

Me:
“Boys and things that come by the dozen,
That ain't nothin' but drugstore lovin'!
Hey, little thing, let me light your candle
'Cause mama, I'm sure hard to handle, now,
Gets around.”

He high-fived me, and continued to sing along while I just stayed silent. I mean, I knew the whole song off by heart, but I just liked to hear his voice alone. It was amazing.

Puck:
“Action speaks louder than words,
And I'm a man of great experience.
I know you've got another man,
But I can love you better than him.”

“Take my hand, don't be afraid.
I'm gonna prove every word I say.
I'm advertising love for free,
So you can place your ad with me.”

Puck and I:
“Boys come along a dime by the dozen.
That ain't nothin' but ten cent lovin'!
Hey, little thing, let me light your candle,
'Cause mama, I'm sure hard to handle, now,
Gets around!
Yeah.
Hard to handle, now.
Oh baby!”

Puck:
“Baaaby, here I am.
I'm the man on yo scene.
I can give you what you want,
But you gotta' come home with me.”

“I have got some good old lovin',
And I got some more in store.
When I get through throwin' it on you,
You gotta' come and back for more.”

Puck and I:
“Boys and things that come by the dozen.
That ain't nothin' but drugstore lovin'!
Hey, little thing, let me light your candle,
'Cause mama, I'm sure hard to handle, now,
Gets around!
Hard.
Hard to handle now.
Oh yeah, yeah, yeah!”

“Boys come along a dime by the dozen.
That ain't nothin' but ten cent lovin'!
Hey, little thing, let me light your candle,
'Cause mama, I'm sure hard to handle, now,
Gets around.
Yeah.
Oh, hard to handle now.
Oh, yeah!”

Puck:
“Baby! Good lovin'.
Baby! baby!
Oh, oh, good lovin'.
I need good lovin'.
I gotto handle, yeah!
Haa, yeah.”

The song ended, and we both just grinned at each other as if to say “Holy fuck, that was pure radness”. Puck then pulled up to an ice cream shop that was called “Sub-Zero”. Where do people come up with names nowadays?, I asked myself in regards to the lack of originality in the name.

We both got out of his truck and walked into the shop. As soon as I entered, I knew I was in ice cream heaven. I saw at least ten different ice cream machines lined up on one wall, and behind the counter there was more, along with milkshakes, slushies (don’t need any more of those), sundaes, frozen yogurt, and ripped-off versions of Blizzards from Dairy Queen.

“Ohmygod.” My face completely lit up.

“I knew you’d like it,” Puck smiled. “What are you having?”

“I have no idea,” I told him, honestly. “There’s so much to choose from.”

I eventually decided on a large Triple Chocolate Berry cone. It was their newest flavor, apparently, and it looked amazing. I took some change out of my pocket and laid it on the counter as the person behind it began to scoop it up.

“Nuh-uh-uh!” Puck stopped me. He took the change from the counter and slid it back into my pocket. “Men always pay.”

“First of all, men? You’re kidding me,” I joked. “Second of all, yeah. Men always pay…on the first date!”

His face dropped, but only for a moment. “Yeah…my point exactly.”

“Alright, Puck. You pay. Since you’re a man, and since this is a ‘date’,” I laughed, putting finger quotes around the word “date”.

“That’s what I thought,” he nodded as he took a ten dollar bill out of his pocket and laid it on the counter. He then looked over at me. “It’s the same cash my mom gave me the other day. I’m surprised that I haven’t spent it on booze yet.”

“Me too,” I admitted. The guy behind the counter handed me my cone. It was seriously the biggest cone I’ve ever had, and the amount of ice cream caked on it had my mouth watering. The ice cream was literally bigger than a baseball.

I waited for Puck to get his. He ordered a large raspberry frozen yogurt. “Gotta keep this body lookin’ good,” he winked.

After he got his frozen yogurt, we went to sit at one of the tables. We began a conversation about musical interests, and were having a debate about whether Billy Joel or Billy Idol was better. Puck took Joel’s side, obviously, but I was more of an Idol fan. Although I still had mad respect and love for Billy Joel. It’s still rock ‘n’ roll to me. :)

We moved on to video games after so long, and were in the middle of a discussion about Dead Space 2, when I caught about 20 flashes of red enter the shop from the corner of my eye. When I turned around, I was surprised to see a bunch of Cheerios tagging behind Sue Sylvester. I noticed Quinn, Brittany and Santana in the group. Brittany waved to Puck and I, but the other two just snobbishly walked ahead of her.

“What are they doing here?” I asked Puck. He shrugged.

“Well,” Sue began. I didn’t know she was standing right behind me. “I’m standing here in an ice cream shop because they sell cats. But seriously, I’m here because I’m gonna treat myself for winning another trophy. I can’t believe you had to ask.”

“Aren’t your Cheerios supposed to be in school?” Puck asked.

“I could ask you the same question,” Sue raised an eyebrow. “Consuming calories is no excuse to miss school. Unless you’re me, of course. But you’re not, unfortunately. Anyway, I dragged those brats along with me so they could watch me eat ice cream and realize that if they take one spoonful, it’s going straight to their asses. And fatasses will never have a chance to become a Cheerio.”

“You know, I could have you guys expelled in a heartbeat if I wanted to,” she continued. “But I’m in a good mood, and I’m gonna let you losers enjoy life while you still can. A life before you find gray hairs, put on weight, and become a cocaine addict. Bye now!” She grinned and walked over to the counter to get her ice cream.

The Cheerios began to fill out most of the tables in the shop, and before I knew it, Santana was sitting at our table. She slid in next to Puck and smiled at him seductively. “Can I have some of that?”

“Uh…I thought you were lactose intolerant,” he replied, giving her a weird look.

“I lied. And that’s not what I said the other night when you found a can of whipped cream in your house,” she winked. “We sure put that to good use.”

“If you don’t mind,” I looked up from my ice cream.

“I do,” she smiled sarcastically. “I’m just trying to be honest. I mean, I wouldn’t want Noah here to set you up, when clearly, he’s screwing me.”

I glared over at Puck, who lowered his head. “Yeah, he failed to mention this on our apparent ‘date’.” There goes the finger quotes around “date” again.

“Of course he did. Puck’s a player. You should probably get that through your head before thinking about trusting him again.” Santana was just getting a kick out of this whole thing.

“Can you leave?” he looked over at her, annoyed that she’d just spilled the beans of their sexual relations.

“Sure, but I’ll be seeing you again soon.” She touched his chest before standing up and walking over to where Brittany and Quinn were sitting.

It was silent for a few seconds, but then he broke it. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you?” I rolled my eyes. “You take me here, tell me it’s a date, and I find out you had sex with Santana like, two days ago. Nice.”

“It’s not that I don’t like you. You’re awesome. I’m just a dude,” Puck explained. “Plus, we’re not official or anything, so I figured it wouldn’t be a huge deal.”

He was right. We weren’t official and it wasn’t a big deal that he fucked someone else while trying to hook up with me. That didn’t change the fact that I was hurt, though. I was actually beginning to like the guy a lot, and he went and messed up my feelings.

I stood up with my cone, which I’d only eaten about half of. “You know what you are, Puckerman?”

He looked up at me with sad eyes, waiting for an answer to the question. As if it wasn’t obvious enough.

“You’re a man whore,” I stated simply. “I’m really glad we didn’t become closer.”

Then, without even a second thought, I threw my cone straight at him. It hit him in the chest area, and the ice cream made its way down to his crotch. Everyone in the shop looked over at us, and I heard giggles and whispers throughout the room. He threw me a frustrated look and at the same time looked like he wanted to cry. Poor man whore getting humiliated in front of all those Cheerios. It’s a hard knock life, right?

“I’m sure Santana can help you clean it up,” I gave him a mocking look and walked out the door.