Little Red and the Big Bad Wolf

Through the rest of the day, I kept trying to remember the lyrics to the song Kurt told me to perform for Glee Club, and I kept hitting parts where I couldn’t remember the next line. It was making me have mini-heart attacks, which meant only one thing for me: I was going to die.

It made sense, really. Too many bad things had happened in one day. They were all leading up to my untimely, premature death.

When I told Puck this on the way to Glee Club, he stared at me for a second like I was crazy before bursting into hysterical laughter. “I think you’ve officially lost it.”

“I’m serious! Don’t you believe in signs?”

“If you mean stop signs, then kinda, ‘cause they’re everywhere. If you mean that because you’re having a bad day, it means that you’re going to get hit by a bus, then no.”

I glared at him. “It does make sense. You’re just not smart enough to realize it.”

He rolled his eyes. “Okay, whatever.”

We sat down in our seats. I leaned back and crossed my arms, kind of annoyed. Puck had no idea what he was talking about. He wasn’t a psychic or anything. I bet that everyone else in Glee Club would think I was insane, too, but I knew I was right.

It was almost as if Puck could read my mind, and he elbowed me in the side. “Will you stop worrying about it? God, it’s ridiculous.”

Letting out an annoyed sigh, I watched the door for Mr. Schue. For some reason, Puck and I seemed to be getting on each other’s nerves, and I just wanted to get my space. Not that being irritated for no reason at my boyfriend was exactly what I wanted when Aileen and I were fighting. Who was my morale booster going to be?

Maybe I needed to fill Sam in on the situation. But did I really want to tell Sam that Puck and I slept together? I felt like that would be a majorly awkward subject for the both of us.

On the other hand, Kurt would get excited and likely spread it to everyone. So he was pretty much out.

Narrowing my eyes, I realized that if I didn’t have Puck, I really didn’t have anyone. So I took a deep breath to try to relax my snapping temper.

Not long after, Mr. Schue entered the room, looking quite perky. “Okay, Ellie, you ready to go?”

“Uh, maybe.” I bit my lip and stood up. I filled in Brad and the band on what song I was singing before turning around and facing everyone. Part of me, especially the bottom of my stomach, knew that I was going to forget some of the lyrics. With the day I was having, it was simply inevitable.

I turned around and nodded at Brad, and everyone started to play the eerie, yet slightly fast-ish paced music.

Ah, look at all the lonely people
Ah, look at all the lonely people

Eleanor Rigby picks up the rice at the church where a wedding has been
Lives in a dream
Waits at the window, wearing the face that she keeps in a jar by the door
Who is it for?

All the lonely people
Where do they all come from?
All the lonely people
Where do they all belong?

After I finished the song, shockingly without error, people kind of looked at me weirdly. I was known for altering songs on my computer before singing them, in order to make a song show off my voice as best as it can. This was a very monotonic song, not much difference between the highest and lowest notes.

“Good song choice,” Mr. Schue nodded, not wanting to say anything mean. Like I mentioned earlier, it was kind of blatantly obvious that I wasn’t having a good day.

“That was boring as hell,” Santana offered.

“Thanks,” I responded, not even having the energy to argue with her. Besides, it probably was boring as hell.

Finally, I settled back in my seat, pulling my bag up on my lap so I could use it as a chin pillow, and watched Finn’s performance of We Can Work it Out.

After Glee Club was over, I hurried out of the classroom, totally forgetting about Puck. How I managed to do that, I wasn’t sure. But I did remember him when he grabbed my arm and turned me around. “Hey, where are you going?”

“Home?” I replied, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Where else would I be going?”

“You aren’t going to wait until I’m done with practice?”

“I dunno if it would be a smart idea for you to drive me home…” I trailed off before clearing my throat. “You know, I kind of think that you’d be the last person that Aileen would want to see.”

“Funny. I thought that would be you.” Even though it was a joke, it still kind of stung.

“I guess. Kind of.” I looked away for a second and fixed my bag. “Okay, I’m gonna go. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah.” It was obvious that we both knew what was going on, but neither of us wanted to point out the awkwardness.

I stuffed my hands in the pockets of my baggy sweatpants as I made my way down the sidewalk. It was so lonely, feeling like I had no one to share what I was going through with. And what the hell was going on between Puck and me, anyway? Was I subconsciously hostile because if there was no him, then there would have been no condom wrapper found?

Well, if I was, it was wrong. I knew that. If there was anyone to blame in the situation, it was me. I was the one that had agreed to sleep with him.

I grabbed a stick of gum out of my bag and popped it in my mouth, sticking the piece of foil in my pocket. As I chewed, I tried to get rid of my confusion and frustration of not having anyone that I could vent to.

When I got home, Aileen was there, as I’d expected. That was why I didn’t want Puck to drive me home. At least, that was what I tried to convince myself.

She was sitting in the living room downstairs, so I took that as a cue that I should go immediately to my room. I did want to make up with her, but I got a very potent vibe that she was not yet completely cooled on the situation. The worst thing to do when in an argument was try to make up with someone before they were ready.

And usually, I wouldn’t want to make up with anyone. That was just how my stubbornness worked. But since I was clearly the one that was wrong in the situation, I just wanted Aileen to forgive me and for our relationship to go back the way it had been before.

The more I thought about it, I realized that I wanted everything to go back to the way it had been before.

I threw myself down on my bed and stared at the ceiling. Why did junior year suddenly make everything a thousand times more complicated?

It just made me come to a single conclusion: growing up totally sucked.