Little Red and the Big Bad Wolf

The house was eerily quiet, which emphasized the erratic and loud beating of my heart. After closing my eyes and taking a couple of deep breaths, I got myself to a somewhat normal level. Not exactly calm, but not quite as ready to pass out/throw up at the same time.

For a second, I just stared at Puck’s closed door, trying to will myself to knock on it. And unlike the front door, no one was going to come out coincidently and greet me with a smile.

So I finally sucked up my fear and rapped on the door a couple of times with my fist.

“Mom,” Puck sighed from the other side of the door, “I told you that I’m fine. I thought you left for the store anyway.”

“It’s not your mom,” I replied, swallowing a lump that was starting to form in my throat. “Can I come in?”

No answer. I’ll take that as a yes.

Slowly, I eased the door open and took a step inside, noting that Puck’s room looked exactly the same as it always had. He was sitting on his bed, guitar in his lap, his hands positioned on the neck.

“Playing the guitar?” I asked, questioning the obvious, trying to break through some of the tension that was piled between us.

To no luck, of course. Puck just put his guitar on the ground and picked up his iPod from his side table.

“C’mon, Puck. I’m not here to argue with you. Please don’t ignore me.”

He popped the ear buds into his ears and started scrolling through the songs, a soft clicking noise audible.

Clenching my teeth for a second, I breathed sharply out of my nose. Okay, so he wasn’t cooperating. That was fine.

Just to be annoying, I settled down on the edge of his bed, sitting Indian-style. “Whether you listen to me or not, I’m still going to talk and hope something gets through to you.”

And another no response. It was frustrating, but I was certainly a girl of my word.

“Look, I know that you’re angry at me right now. But you’re not a victim in this. You started it. You’re the one who cheated on me, remember?” No recognition on his face. “I was just…I was hurt, okay? That’s such a stupid word to use, and it makes me seem like a wimp, but I’m hurt. I can’t believe that you made a commitment to me, being my boyfriend, and you ripped through that trust.”

When he started mouthing along with the song, drumming the beat on his knee, I started to get a really annoyed, but I kept right on talking. “Alright, so I was hurt. I was trying to get back at you, which made me do some pretty stupid things. Things I regret.”

AH! THERE! He flicked his eyes up to look at me for a split second. A smirk played on the edge of my lips as I leaned over and plucked one of the ear buds out of his ears.

Puck swatted at me, but I won, putting the ear bud close to my ear. “You jerk!” I laughed, throwing it back onto the bed. “You’re not listening to anything!”

He smiled a little before putting his iPod back. “Well, I couldn’t let you know that I was actually listening to you.”

“Meathead,” I insulted jokingly, shoving his shoulder.

Everything was perfect in that moment, just like old times. But then the laughter faded, the talking stopped, and all the problems crawled back into our minds. Clearing my throat awkwardly, I scooted back a little more.

“So,” he started, crossing his arms in front of his chest, “you were saying?”

“That…And I shouldn’t be saying this first right now, but I’m sorry. I’m sorry for telling everyone that you had an STD, and I’m sorry for saying all those awful things to you, and I’m sorry for embarrassing you over the PA system.”

There was another pause as I waited for Puck to apologize, which he didn’t do. “Your turn,” I prompted with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m sorry, again, for cheating on you with Santana and for telling the whole school that you gave me the STD. And all the other stupid things that I probably did but don’t remember.”

“So,” I stuck my hand out in front of me, “truce?”

Puck shook my hand with a look on his face that clearly questioned my sanity. “Does that mean that we can have makeup sex?”

I let out a snort. “Sorry, but I’m not really hot on the idea of getting gonorrhea. Sweet offer, though.”

“Hey, I finished my medication. I’m gonorrhea-free now.”

“Congrats. I’m happy for you. But I’m still not having sex with you.” I smiled a little. “Besides, you’re still on probation.”

“Wait, we’re not back together?”

“Nope. You gotta earn back that status, bud.”

Puck’s jaw dropped. “What? Singing a song about how I’m still in love with you wasn’t giving me back enough points?”

“It didn’t count. I was still angry at you, and you singing that song made me want to chuck you out a window.”

He laughed a little. “Alright, fine.”

There was another silence that I was eager to do away with, which was dangerous. So I blurted, “So, just a question: ever heard of a condom?”

“She’s on the pill,” he rolled his eyes. “I didn’t think of it.”

“You don’t ever think.”

I gave him a smile, which he returned, and I couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this was the first step on the long journey toward the right direction.