Cheerio

I ran a hand through my hair to make sure it was perfect as I walked into school, modeling one of the new outfits that Kurt and I had bought on our shopping adventure. People were catching up about their vacations, stopping in the middle to hug each other and gush. The old me would have screamed at them to get a room or something, but that wasn’t who I was anymore.

Instead, I made my way to my locker silently, weaving my way through the screaming teenagers. Once I got there, I spun my combination with ease and got the materials I needed for my first class.

“Looking fabulous,” Kurt complimented as he leaned against the locker next to mine. “I’m so glad I was able to talk you into buying that top.”

“Me, too,” I agreed, looking down at the patterned, flowy top. “I should have known you were right.”

“Yes, you should have.” I shut the door, trying not to wince at the sharp metallic sound, and turned. Kurt and I started walking in step down the hallway, avoiding the irritating freshmen around us who felt the need to squeal. “But oh, well. No need to dwell on the past.”

I felt a familiar sensation on my back. As subtly as I could, I turned to see Puck staring at me, one hand gripping his backpack, ready to shove some supplies into it.

He smiled a little when our eyes made contact, and I returned the gesture.

When I turned back around, Kurt was smirking at me like he knew a secret. “What?” I questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t ‘what’ me. I saw that. You and Puck are totally going out. Am I right?”

I had to keep myself from bursting out laughing. “No way. I could never go out with that airhead.”

“You know, you insulting him only makes me think I’m right. Like a little kid, you’re just trying to redirect your feelings to something more manageable.”

Letting out a little snort and leaning against the doorway of my first class, I shook my head. “Kurt, you’re way off. There’s nothing between Puck and me. Clear?”

“Fine, fine.” He held up his hands and started shuffling away. “You may not feel anything, but he definitely does!”

Before I could slap him verbally or physically, he scampered down the hallway like a little squirrel.

Grumbling to myself, I took my seat and crossed my arms. It was all I could do not to rant out loud about how wrong Kurt was.

* * *

Mr. Schue entered the room and deposited his briefcase on the piano before turning toward the white board in the back of the room. He started to scribble something on it, and a couple of people stopped talking, wanting to see our next assignment. Santana’s voice, on the other hand, could still be heard over all the others as she recounted some kind of gross sexcapade that happened over vacation.

I rolled my eyes, blocking out her story, and waited for Mr. Schue to start talking.

“The 80s,” Mr. Schue started, a grin encompassing his face. “Widely considered as one of the best decades of recent American history.”

“We all know you love the 80s, Mr. Schue,” Artie spoke up, the sarcasm thick in his voice.

I threw my head back, suppressing a loud groan. I just had to do some old-ass song…and I had to do another one? God…this club was making it real hard to love it.

“Well, who were some singers in the 80s that you guys like?”

“Madonna,” Quinn piped up.

“Michael Jackson,” Artie included.

“Blondie.”

“Cyndi Lauper.”

“Okay,” Mr. Schue broke in, “this just shows that you guys like it, too. So all you have to do is perform a song from the decade. No song is off-limits.” He stopped and thought for a second. “As long as it’s not too inappropriate for school.”

There was a collective snicker before Mr. Schue nodded toward the door. “Okay, you guys are all dismissed.”

“There is no way I’m singing a Journey song,” Kurt sighed as he picked up his bag. He slung it over his shoulder and started out of the room, but paused to wait when he realized I was taking a little longer.

I hurried, throwing on my backpack and scurrying over to him. “What’s Journey?”

He stared at me for a second. “Oh my God. You’re serious, aren’t you?”

Smiling sheepishly, I shrugged. “Sorry. I don’t know any songs from the 80s.”

“Oh, you have to, even if you don’t know it.” Kurt stared off into the distance for a second, mulling over what must have been a million songs. “Eye of the Tiger? That's a hugely popular song, though not by Journey.”

I stared at him blankly.

“Don't Stop Believing?"

Still nothing.

"Oh, come on. Everyone knows that song.” He sang a couple of lines, but there was no click inside my head. “Wow, that’s just sad.”

“Sorry. I only like modern music.”

Kurt just shook his head and let the subject drop altogether. “So you’re probably going to need my help on this assignment. Which is fine for me.”

We stepped out of the school, letting the stinging air slap us in the face. Kurt’s scarf started flying madly everywhere, and he reached up to calm it. I grabbed as much hair as I could and held it over one of my shoulders to keep it from smacking him in the face.

“Why don’t you come over my house tomorrow after school? We’ll go through a bunch of songs that I’ll pick out for you and see which one you like the best. Sound okay?”

I hesitated, kind of surprised that he was offering to be so helpful. I felt like if I had been in his situation, I would have said, ‘Oh, well. Sucks to be you. Go find a song.’ But then again, I knew that Kurt was probably the furthest thing from me, from who I used to be, on the entire freakin’ planet.

“That sounds good,” I answered before there was too long of a pause, or so I hoped.

“Okay. Finn will take us before he has to go to basketball practice.”

“That’s fine.” I stopped in front of Garrett’s car and put one hand on the handle. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Yup! I’ll text you.” He smiled as I climbed into the car, waving one final time.

As we pulled out of the parking lot of the school, I could feel Garrett staring at me. The whole thing was made a thousand times worse by the fact that I knew I was grinning like an idiot.

“Evie, I hate to tell you…but that kid’s gay,” Garrett said finally, cautiously, as if he didn’t want to hurt my feelings.

I let out a light laugh. “I’m fully aware, thanks. It’s just…nice to have a friend as great as him. I forget how sweet he is sometimes.”

He let out a sigh of relief. “Thank God. I thought you had a crush on him or something.”

Rolling my eyes, I shoved his shoulder lightly, careful not to be too harsh, since doing so in a moving vehicle probably wouldn’t be the smartest idea. “Well, I appreciate that you were willing to tell me instead of letting me pant after him, if that was the case.”

“You’re welcome. What are brothers for?” He smirked at me before turning his gaze back to the road.

God, what was with everyone trying to pin a crush on me? Was it that important that I had a boyfriend?

Speaking of relationships… “So, how did that date with Maria go the other night anyway?”

Garrett snickered and turned to me, a mischievous gleam dancing in his eye. “I’m not sure you want to know.”

I sighed and rolled my eyes again. Brothers.