Easier Said Than Done

The next day, Sam and I walked into the school hand-in-hand. Although I pretended not to notice, it would have been impossible to ignore the hurried, excited whispers that followed us.

One in particular that I caught made me want to snap. “So soon after she and Puck split? What a slut.”

What a fucking double standard. How long had Puck been pursuing Zizes? And yet, because I was a girl who had finally moved on after a month and a half, I was the slut. Why did no one ever call Puck a slut? Or maybe man-whore was the better term.

“You okay?” Sam questioned, noticing that I was fuming inside my head.

“Fine,” I replied, letting out a sigh. There was no use of letting some random girl, whom I’d never spoken to in my life, dictate what was and wasn’t acceptable for me to do.

While I was at my locker, Sam waited, one hand on his backpack strap. “Oh, so my parents kind of want to meet you.”

I coughed, choking a little on my own saliva. “Um, okay. When?”

“This weekend?”

“Alright.” I shut my locker door and started walking again, intertwining my fingers with his. “Don’t be surprised if they tell you that you can no longer go out with me after that encounter, though.”

“Why would they do that?” he laughed.

“Because I’m awkward? I don’t know. I feel like I’m going to make a fool out of myself and make your parents hate me.”

I pouted and sniffled, but Sam didn’t seem concerned. “Oh, please. You’re great.”

My face flushed for a second, and I felt some eyes on me. Glancing over, I saw Puck staring at Sam and me. And I knew Puck well enough to know that he was pissed.

I bit my lip and dragged my gaze away, moving a little faster. “We’re going to be late if we don’t hurry,” I word-vomited, dragging Sam along with me.

He didn’t question it, but whether that was because he figured it was my normal, weird behavior or he saw Puck, I didn’t know.

Once in class, I sat down at my seat and pulled out my notebook and pen, ready to distract myself with a never-ending stream of notes.

* * *

Unfortunately (I can’t believe I just said that), school didn’t last forever. Butterflies were going in my stomach, since I knew, I just knew, that Puck was going to confront me about the Sam thing. It sucked, since I didn’t lie to him on purpose. It just kind of…happened.

Surely enough, Sam and I were walking into Glee Club when Puck grabbed my arm. “What the hell, Ellie?” he snapped at me, not making any effort to keep his voice down.

Sam turned around, confused, but I ignored him. “What are you talking about?”

“Why did you lie to me? I thought we were cool again, but you lied about not liking anybody.”

My face burned bright red, but I pretended that it was from anger as I stepped forward. “It’s none of your business who I like and don’t like, Puck. We’re not together anymore.”

“Obviously.” He shot an angry look at Sam before turning his attention back to me. “But really…you just…you lied to me. I really thought you were more mature than that.”

That got me really angry. Who was he, Noah Puckerman, to tell me that I was immature? If there was ever a situation of the pot calling the kettle black, it was then. “Oh, like you’re so mature?”

“I’m being more mature than you are about this.”

Shit. He had a point. “Fuck you, Puckerman,” I spat, turning to walk away. Sam looked really uncomfortable, not that I blamed him.

“Hate to tell you, little Miss Perfect, but you already did!” Puck called after me.

My stomach dropped and tears rushed to my eyes. Part of me hoped that I had imagined he said that, but the shocked and hurt look on Sam’s face, along with the dumbfounded expressions of the rest of the Glee Club, made me realize otherwise.

I turned back around and started walking toward the door, back to where Puck was. “I just want you to know that I hate you,” I told Puck, my voice completely void of emotion. “I hope you’re happy now.”

To keep him from feeling any satisfaction, I walked slowly down the hallway. Since my back was to him, he couldn’t see that tears were flowing down my face, and I felt like complete shit. No one knew that Puck and I had slept together, and now the entire Glee Club did. What would Santana say now?

And would Sam hate me? That was my biggest fear. I knew he wasn’t a judgmental guy, but still. It was almost like I had lied by omission.

Lying. Why did it seem like I was lying to everyone nowadays? Sniffling and gritting my teeth, I wiped the tears from my cheeks with the palm of my hand.

Who did Puck think he was, bringing that up? Wasn’t it obvious that was one of the reasons that we broke up? That sleeping together made everything uncomfortable and distant between us? It was obvious I wasn’t ready.

At least, to me it was. He was just a stupid boy, after all. Maybe he hadn’t picked up on the thousand clues that lead to the conclusion.

I was already a few blocks from the school when I stopped wallowing long enough to realize that my phone was going off every ten seconds.

Stopping for a second, I leaned my bag against my knee and fished through it for my cell phone. I scrolled through the inbox list, seeing that almost every single one of them was from either Sam or Kurt, though there was one from Finn and one from Mercedes.

Kurt was mostly freaking out because I hadn’t told him, Sam was worried about my well-being and why I hadn’t told him, but Finn and Mercedes just basically said that Puck was a dickhead that wasn’t worth worrying about.

Like I didn’t know that already.

Although Finn and Mercedes were trying to make me feel better, I could almost feel the fakeness in their texts. Even though they were just being their usual, nice selves, it was obvious they were silently judging me. Calling me a slut in their minds just like that asinine girl had that morning.

Feeling the tears starting to pool in my eyes again, I shoved my phone into my pants pocket and stared forward, wanting nothing more than to be home already, curled up in my bed.

Just to go along a little better with my horrible day, Aileen was already home. Which meant that she would see that I was all upset and start asking a million questions, which would only make me more ticked off.

When I walked inside, though, I could hear her in the laundry room. Taking the opportunity to escape, I ran up into my room and shut the door softly so she wouldn’t know I was upset. After all, if she didn’t know anything was wrong, then she wouldn’t bother me.

Once I was alone, I curled up in my bed on my side and stared at the wall, hating that I had ever loved or trusted Noah Puckerman.