Little Red and the Big Bad Wolf

I was clearly distracted during school the next day. My eyes were always glazing over as I stared into nothingness (even after I got called out three times in my first period class, getting threatened to be sent to Figgins if I “refused to pay attention”), and if anyone was talking, no matter who it was, I checked out of reality and didn’t hear what they were saying.

Lunch was no exception, when Sam was trying to tell me about how he had talked to Quinn in the class before. I was interested; really, I was. But my brain wouldn’t let me focus.

When I came back to current times, Sam was saying, “And so I was thinking that we could paint each other green and go around the world pretending that we’re aliens. Maybe even make a couple of fake crop circles.”

My eyes narrowed as I gave him a funny look. “You sure have some strange forms of entertainment.”

“So now you’re listening to me,” he sighed, poking around the pasta on his tray. “Was I boring you?”

“No, sorry. I’m spacey today. Can you start over?”

He heaved a great sigh, but he ended up doing as I asked. “I was just saying that Quinn sat next to me without me waving her over today in math, and we talked almost the whole class. We didn’t get our work done, and we got yelled at, but it was worth it.”

“So there was really nothing about pretending to be aliens and flying around the U.S. making fake crop circles?”

“No,” he laughed. “But it figures that you heard just that tiny bit of the conversation.”

“That’s just how my brain works.” Grinning, I ate a little bit before yawning. “Oh, no wonder I’m spacey. I’m tired.”

Sam hesitated before saying, “And you didn’t realize that before?”

“Nope.”

He just shook his head, probably thinking that it was better not to ask about the inner workings of my mind. He was probably right.

“So,” Puck smiled as I went to throw away my trash. I jumped, since he just about scared the crap out of me, and he chuckled at me in an ‘oh, isn’t she pathetic’ kind of way.

“You need a cowbell or something,” I informed him, taking a couple breaths to ease my racing heart.

“Um…no thanks. That would mean I was a cow, which I’m not. Anyway, am I driving you home today?”

“Actually, are your sister and mom going to be home?”

He stared at the ceiling for a second. “I think so. Why?”

“Because then we can go to your house and I can say hi…” I trailed off, shaking my head a little bit.

“And then we can go to your house and I can meet Nyleen.”

“It’s Aileen,” I corrected with an eye roll. “You gotta learn her name before you can meet her. Especially since, as of right now, she likes Sam more.”

“That’s because she hasn’t met me,” he stated cockily. “There’s no way anyone can like that guy more than me. I mean, have you seen his mouth? I bet he could fit, like, five tennis balls in there.”

I let out a snort before turning back to my table. “Meet me at my locker, okay?”

As I settled back down at the table, I could see from the corner of my eye that Sam was staring at me. “What?” I finally asked in an exasperated breath.

“Your face is flushed. You still like Puck.” His voice had such a teasing tone to it that I wanted to throw him out a window. Or stuff so many tennis balls in his mouth that he wouldn’t be able to breathe.

“Maybe I do,” I shrugged, brushing my hair out of my face, “or maybe I don’t.”

“You might as well admit it to yourself,” Sam informed me. “Because the longer you deny it, the angrier you’re going to be when you let the opportunity slip past you.”

And with that, he stood up and walked out of the cafeteria, leaving me staring after him, wondering why he was so insightful into how I acted.

* * *

Puck was already leaning against my locker when I arrived after Glee Club, so I just pushed him out of the way and spun the combination. “Hi to you, too,” he laughed.

“Hey.” I stuffed my reading book from English into my bag before slamming my locker door shut. “Ready to go?”

“Sure.” We started walking out of the school, and right as we hit the bright sunlight outside, I let out a groan.

“I need sunglasses,” I whined as my eyes narrowed, trying to block out some of the sun. “And I wonder why Mr. Schue didn’t give us a new assignment today.”

Puck paused before chuckling. “What even connected those two thoughts?”

“I dunno. Does it matter?” I grinned broadly until he finally turned away to hide the smile that was spreading across his own face.

“I guess not. But he said that he didn’t have an idea yet.”

“Weird, don’t you think?” I yawned for a second, covering my mouth with my hand. “Since when has Mr. Schue not had an idea for an assignment? It’s like he’s distracted or something.”

“Maybe he is. It’s not like we can ask him or anything.”

“I guess not.” Sighing a little, I climbed into Puck’s car, putting my bag at my feet. “To your house, away!”

“Batman, huh?”

I stared at him for a second. “Puck, please tell me that you’re not a Superman kind of guy. Please tell me that you’re not. After all, I went out with you.”

“C’mon, Ells! Superman’s indestructible. Batman’s just a dude who thought it would be cool to put on a costume and throw weapons at people.”

Oh, no. He had totally found one of the only things that made me rant forever. Though a debate against Spiderman would elicit a very similar reaction. “No, don’t even. Superman is…boring. And kind of pathetic, too. Why is it that a big super villain can’t beat him, and yet a two-year-old girl with a bit of Kryptonite can? That’s just stupid.”

“Superman can beat Batman,” he argued.

A smirk pulled at the corner of my mouth as I sat up straighter in my seat. “Actually, Mr. Smarty Pants, in a comic book, Batman actually beat Superman. So that argument’s not valid.”

“Superman’s invincible, end of discussion.”

“Not end of discussion!” I laughed, shoving his shoulder. “He’s not invincible. He has that Kryptonite weakness. Which is supposed to be rare, and yet everyone seems to have a piece. But Batman didn’t when he beat him!”

“Will you shut up about Batman beating Superman?” He rolled his eyes. “It was a fluke, I’m sure. Maybe Superman had a cold.”

“Then he’s not as invincible as you says he is, is he?”

Silence. “Exactly.”

“I’ll think of a new argument,” he declared, a smug smile on his face. “Just wait. This isn’t over.”

“Oh, it’s over. Batman has his own signal that gets shown in the sky.”

“Superman always has his suit on under his clothes.”

“Which is stupid. Because then he’s just kind of ripping off his clothes in the middle of the street or whatever. How do people not know it’s him, anyway? All he has to do is slap on some glasses and no one makes the connection? That’s unrealistic.”

“Do you want to go inside and see my mom and sister or what?” he cut me off.

Grinning, I nodded and opened my door, leaving my bag in his truck. My stomach got butterflies as I made my way to his door, the actions so familiar and yet so foreign at the same time.

Plus, it felt good to know that I could joke around with Puck again. I hadn’t realized the extent to how much I missed that until then.