Little Red and the Big Bad Wolf

For some strange reason, even my stomach had butterflies when Sam and I arrived at Glee Club the next day, being the first people to arrive.

“Are you sure there’s even Glee Club today?” Sam whispered, eying the door as he spoke. “Because we’re the only ones.”

“Nice observation,” I rolled my eyes. “But there’s definitely a meeting today. So stop worrying, will you?”

And just then, Artie, Tina, Mercedes, and Kurt arrived. Mercedes was in the middle of some sort of weird story. “And I just turned to him, and I was like, ‘Oh, heeeell to the no! You did not just say that!’ He was all, ‘Uh, no, no I didn’t!’ Oh my God, you should have seen his face.”

Cue the laughter from the group around her, all acting like it was the funniest thing that they’d ever heard in their short lives. But I was still just kind of confused. Who was the he? And what, exactly, did he say? Ah, the ample questions of life.

One by one, everyone filed into the room, none of the conversations quite as confusing/thrilling as Mercedes’.

When Puck walked in, he shot me the dirtiest death glare that anyone’s ever received. “What’s he doing here?” he sneered, nodding his head toward Sam. As if Sam wasn’t sitting two inches away from me and couldn’t hear anything. Oh, God, Puck…

“Sam,” I started pointedly, raising an eyebrow, “is going to be auditioning today, since we only have a couple of performances left.”

“Don’t we have a group vote or something? Like if majority says that he has to get lost, then he has to?”

“Uh, no. We’re an equal opportunity club.” Then, I leaned a little closer to Puck, and he had to bend over a little to bring his face close to mine. “Will you please sit down and stop being an ass? I’d appreciate it. Stop being jealous of Sam, okay?”

He sat down next to me, but it didn’t go past my notice that he kept shooting Sam daggers. At first, I tried to slap his leg each time I caught him, but after a while, my hand started to hurt, so I just stopped and ignored it.

Mr. Schue finally arrived late, apologizing profusely as he entered. “Sorry, guys. I got held up in a meeting at Princpal Figgins’ office with Sue…you know the drill. Alright, so who has to go today…” His voice stopped as his eyes landed on Sam. “Can I help you?”

Sam opened his mouth to reply, but I answered instead, just in case he chickened out. “Sam’s going to audition,” I announced.

There was a chorus of voices from behind us, so I turned around, seeming to give looks to everyone. Really, I was looking for Quinn’s reaction, to see if she even had one at all.

She did. Her eyes were locked on the back of Sam’s head, the corners of her lips upturned so slightly that I wasn’t sure if it could really be considered a smile.

“Don’t look now,” I turned around and mumbled, “but a certain someone whose name begins with Q is looking at you.”

So what does he do, since he’s a boy? Turns immediately around and grins broadly at Quinn.

Sighing, I face-palmed and focused on Mr. Schue, restraining myself from slapping Sam upside the head as hard as I could. Because, frankly, it was pretty much the only thing running through my mind at that point. Who blatantly ignores an order like that? And I was trying to be nice.

“So who still has to go?” Mr. Schue questioned, looking around at all of us. “Tina? Have you gone?”

“N-n-no,” she responded, shaking her head to send her long black hair flowing.

She stood at the front and sang Bridge Over Troubled Water by Simon and Garfunkel, doing a pretty darn good job of it, I thought. The soft melody really suited her voice.

Mike performed after, Born to Run by Bruce Springsteen. I loved that song so much, and Mike did an alright job with it. Not spectacular, but Bruce Springsteen wasn’t cringing somewhere with blood pouring out of his ears. And neither were we, so everyone won.

“Is that everyone?” Mr. Schue questioned. There were various forms of affirmation throughout the group, so he clapped his hands together. “Alright, Sam, you wanna have your shot?”

A look of panic settled on his face. “Just breathe,” I whispered so only he could hear me. “You’re going to be fine.”

He took a deep breath as directed before standing up and putting the guitar strap behind his head, settling the guitar so it fell correctly on his chest.

“Alright, so I picked a 70’s song, since that was your assignment for the week, and I figured that it would be the best thing to audition with.” I cleared my throat loudly, but Sam didn’t add that I had a huge part of the picking of the song. Who suggested a 70’s song, anyway? Yeah, I thought so. What a brat.

Sam went through Who Loves You by the Four Seasons perfectly, without even the slightest pitch error. I was very proud of him, and everyone seemed to love the performance a lot.

“Sam,” Mr. Schue smiled, looking around at the club for backup as he spoke, “welcome to Glee Club.”