two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, chapter 3
Glee. 1,760 words. I promise things will be start to heat up next chapter! And also, I've kind of started putting together the most amazing Puck fanmix that's meant to complement this-- remind me to post it when this story is completed. My goal is to have it finished before the next new episode. I want this to live forever in the gap between Mash Up and the rest of the season!
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3. strange times
-the black keys
“Dude, did a Liza Minnelli CD just fall out of your locker?”
Wait, he totally had an explanation for this.
---
See, it all started about a month and a half ago, when he and Rachel decided to be “secret friends,” which, surprisingly, wasn’t as fruity as it sounded. Even though the whole thing was basically his doing, he didn’t expect it to last more than a week. Two max. Anything non-physical with girls already had the odds stacked against it, but adding Rachel’s annoying as shit personality to the mix? Maybe even seven days seemed unrealistic.
At first, things were pretty random. An evening here, a Shabbat dinner there…Nothing big. She picked songs that let him do some more complex stuff on the guitar than “What a Girl Wants” and helped him with geometry. He didn’t really care about grades, but when he got a B- on his trig test, his mom was so happy, she beefed up his allowance (better known as Puck’s Beer Fund) for the week. To top if off (and this actually is where it does get a little fruity) his teacher told him she was proud of him. Used those words exactly. It was the first time anyone other than his mom had said that, and all of a sudden, the thought came to him. Maybe if he pulled his grades up, he could not only start getting the good brew instead of the cheap shit, but he could also show Quinn that he wasn’t some deadbeat, idiot loser. It'd be like killing two birds with one stone.
When he told Rachel his plan, her face lit up.
“Noah, I am not being the least bit facetious when I say that your plan is brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner…That’s totally what you need; some sort of incentive! See, for me, that’s obviously the Best New Artist Grammy, but for you this is perfect.”
They decided to take baby steps, and focus first on what was actually within the realm of possibility. English was out because, well, expecting Puck to read books? Not gonna happen. And science? Way too much shit with weird names. Numbers he could do though. And if he actually tried, he thought he might be pretty good at it.
Not too long after, they decided on a plan and Rachel set up a schedule. Ordinarily, the thought of being told where to be and when by someone other than his mom or a coach wouldn’t fly, but this was different. They met up Mondays, Tuesdays and Wednesdays after basketball practice. First they got their homework out of the way, then if they had some time before the Pepto Bismol of her walls started to make him feel nauseous, they’d practice whatever shitty pop song she was into that week. It was actually a pretty perfect set up.
Sometime after that (he's not quite sure when) things began to change, and before he knew it, they were talking about stuff that didn't involve converting radians to degrees or how to hit the elusive high B. It probably started with Rachel talking about Finn ALL THE FUCKING TIME, almost always eliciting a series of intense gagging sounds from Puck as he pretended to hurl. It wasn’t his fault though, because the things she said really did make him want to vomit. But in all honesty, he probably laid it on thick in his attempts to take the attention off himself. He still wasn't used to all this feelings garbage. He knew the whole reason he started this mess was to have someone to tell about Quinn and his baby, but whatever, opening up to her wasn’t as easy as it sounded. Partly because saying it out loud scared him shitless, and partly because…There was just never a right time to bring it up? (That was totally a lie and the punk-ass excuse he told himself as he made his way home everyday.)
But it wasn’t just the feelings shit they talked about. After a few weeks, he knew what the first musical she saw on Broadway was (Cats when she was five-but if you told anyone he knew that, he’d have to legit beat the shit out of you) and she knew that he got cut from his first pee wee football team for being scrawny and awful (which just made him want it more-see, they really were alike!). They even knew each other’s favorite TV shows and watched them together every now and then. She lived and breathed American Idol, he dug Friday Night Lights, and she mocked him mercilessly for being such a cliche…Until she saw that Tim Riggins guy and decided maybe football wasn’t as bad as she thought it was.
Despite the million directions their conversations went between math problems and evening snacks, somehow it always came back to music. But dude, when she started to make him listen to her favorite songs? That was where he drew the fucking line.
“Oh my god, Berry, I want to shoot myself in the face here, can you please turn this shit off?”
She looked up from her textbook, her eyes wide with contempt. “Noah Puckerman, you take that back-”
He slammed his book shut and threw his head back. “What do you want me to say, Rach? You make me listen to this crap every time I’m over. Every time! I hate it so much it literally makes me wanna punch small children in the face. I can’t even pass by the park on my way home anymore cause I’m scared of what I might do.”
She shut off the music and put her ice queen face on.
“I should have guessed that someone with your taste in, well, everything, wouldn’t appreciate the finer things in life.” She was being huffy and he couldn’t help but grin. Somewhere along the line, the things she did that used to make him want to smash things became endearing.
“Hold it right there,” he stuffed his books into his bag and slung it over his shoulder. “Before you launch into your whole Noah, you are so infantile! speech, lemme just say that you clearly need to be educated in the ways of the electric guitar.”
“Oh wait, let me guess: I haven’t lived until I've listened to Led Zeppelin stoned.”
“Well, that’s true, but not actually what I was gonna say.” He leaned both hands on her desk so their faces were inches apart and his voice lowered an octave. If Rachel wasn’t hopelessly devoted to Finn, the gesture might have made her stomach flip. “I was gonna say that you, Rachel Berry, are coming over to my house tomorrow night and I’m gonna show you what you’re missing.”
“Ugh, someone put me out of my misery already!” She groaned melodramatically as she dropped her forehead onto the desk in grand Berry fashion. He rolled his eyes and mussed her hair. “Come at 7:30, I’m gonna stay late and lift.”
When she came to his house the next day, Mrs. Puckerman was working a double shift so it was just him and his little sister. He didn’t give her much of a chance to introduce herself, instead grabbing fistfuls of junk food on their way up to his room.
“Noah, I didn’t know you had a sibling,” she commented as he closed his door.
“Yeah, that’s cause I’d rather forget.” His mouth was full of some sort of deli meat that she was pretty sure he was starting to wash down with soda before he finished chewing. As he settled down, she took a look around his room and couldn’t help but feel a jolt of nervous energy. It was less the idea of being alone with Puck that gave her the jitters, and more the fact that it was his bedroom. That she was sitting on his bed and she could totally see a pair of his boxers in a pile of laundry in the corner.
This was the first (straight) guy’s room she had ever been in, and the thought in and of itself was pretty terrifying. Then considering their whole history and the fact that Rachel had to remind herself fairly often that they were polar opposite personalities and there was more to men than finely chiseled abs and the throaty way he had called her "babe"...It was becoming increasingly clear that her current situation was rapidly spiraling out of control.
That is, until the sound of a loud, Puck-toned belch promptly woke her from her reverie.
“Noah, you are such a heathen.”
That night, she left his house with seven "fuckin' classic rock albums." She pretended like it was some huge chore waiting for him to finish up, but secretly, she liked the idea of expanding her horizons. Plus, he may have chosen CDs from his shelves randomly, but the way he scribbled track numbers on Post-Its was undeniably adorable and very un-Puck.
Two days later, she texted him during third period (oh yeah, that was something they did now too: texting. No open acknowledgement of each other in the halls or basically anywhere other than Glee, but they texted each other pretty often. Say what? No joke.)
Berry 11:37:29 AM: Left something for you by your guitar in the Glee room. Pick it up immediately, they are some of my most prized possessions and if any are missing I will hold you personally accountable!!!!!!
Berry 11:38:15 AM: Oh and I heard there’s a big game on Friday. I may or may not be incredibly offended you never mentioned it. Good luck!!! :)
Before lunch, he swung by and picked up a small bag of CDs. A note was folded and tucked into the sleeve of the one on the top of the stack.
Guns’n’Roses is abhorrent, Led Zeppelin wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be, and I kind of like Kings of Leon. Haven’t had the chance to listen to the others yet. Jury’s still out on whether I’m looking forward to it. Until then, it’s only fair that you do the same. I’ll expect a full report on these when I see you next. Preferably double spaced, in 12 point Times New Roman font.
---
So, to make a long story even longer, yes. That was a Liza Minnelli CD that just fell out of Puck’s locker.
“Dude, chill out. It’s just some more gay ass shit for Glee, okay?”
TBC
---
---
3. strange times
-the black keys
“Dude, did a Liza Minnelli CD just fall out of your locker?”
Wait, he totally had an explanation for this.
---
See, it all started about a month and a half ago, when he and Rachel decided to be “secret friends,” which, surprisingly, wasn’t as fruity as it sounded. Even though the whole thing was basically his doing, he didn’t expect it to last more than a week. Two max. Anything non-physical with girls already had the odds stacked against it, but adding Rachel’s annoying as shit personality to the mix? Maybe even seven days seemed unrealistic.
At first, things were pretty random. An evening here, a Shabbat dinner there…Nothing big. She picked songs that let him do some more complex stuff on the guitar than “What a Girl Wants” and helped him with geometry. He didn’t really care about grades, but when he got a B- on his trig test, his mom was so happy, she beefed up his allowance (better known as Puck’s Beer Fund) for the week. To top if off (and this actually is where it does get a little fruity) his teacher told him she was proud of him. Used those words exactly. It was the first time anyone other than his mom had said that, and all of a sudden, the thought came to him. Maybe if he pulled his grades up, he could not only start getting the good brew instead of the cheap shit, but he could also show Quinn that he wasn’t some deadbeat, idiot loser. It'd be like killing two birds with one stone.
When he told Rachel his plan, her face lit up.
“Noah, I am not being the least bit facetious when I say that your plan is brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner…That’s totally what you need; some sort of incentive! See, for me, that’s obviously the Best New Artist Grammy, but for you this is perfect.”
They decided to take baby steps, and focus first on what was actually within the realm of possibility. English was out because, well, expecting Puck to read books? Not gonna happen. And science? Way too much shit with weird names. Numbers he could do though. And if he actually tried, he thought he might be pretty good at it.
Not too long after, they decided on a plan and Rachel set up a schedule. Ordinarily, the thought of being told where to be and when by someone other than his mom or a coach wouldn’t fly, but this was different. They met up Mondays, Tuesdays and Wednesdays after basketball practice. First they got their homework out of the way, then if they had some time before the Pepto Bismol of her walls started to make him feel nauseous, they’d practice whatever shitty pop song she was into that week. It was actually a pretty perfect set up.
Sometime after that (he's not quite sure when) things began to change, and before he knew it, they were talking about stuff that didn't involve converting radians to degrees or how to hit the elusive high B. It probably started with Rachel talking about Finn ALL THE FUCKING TIME, almost always eliciting a series of intense gagging sounds from Puck as he pretended to hurl. It wasn’t his fault though, because the things she said really did make him want to vomit. But in all honesty, he probably laid it on thick in his attempts to take the attention off himself. He still wasn't used to all this feelings garbage. He knew the whole reason he started this mess was to have someone to tell about Quinn and his baby, but whatever, opening up to her wasn’t as easy as it sounded. Partly because saying it out loud scared him shitless, and partly because…There was just never a right time to bring it up? (That was totally a lie and the punk-ass excuse he told himself as he made his way home everyday.)
But it wasn’t just the feelings shit they talked about. After a few weeks, he knew what the first musical she saw on Broadway was (Cats when she was five-but if you told anyone he knew that, he’d have to legit beat the shit out of you) and she knew that he got cut from his first pee wee football team for being scrawny and awful (which just made him want it more-see, they really were alike!). They even knew each other’s favorite TV shows and watched them together every now and then. She lived and breathed American Idol, he dug Friday Night Lights, and she mocked him mercilessly for being such a cliche…Until she saw that Tim Riggins guy and decided maybe football wasn’t as bad as she thought it was.
Despite the million directions their conversations went between math problems and evening snacks, somehow it always came back to music. But dude, when she started to make him listen to her favorite songs? That was where he drew the fucking line.
“Oh my god, Berry, I want to shoot myself in the face here, can you please turn this shit off?”
She looked up from her textbook, her eyes wide with contempt. “Noah Puckerman, you take that back-”
He slammed his book shut and threw his head back. “What do you want me to say, Rach? You make me listen to this crap every time I’m over. Every time! I hate it so much it literally makes me wanna punch small children in the face. I can’t even pass by the park on my way home anymore cause I’m scared of what I might do.”
She shut off the music and put her ice queen face on.
“I should have guessed that someone with your taste in, well, everything, wouldn’t appreciate the finer things in life.” She was being huffy and he couldn’t help but grin. Somewhere along the line, the things she did that used to make him want to smash things became endearing.
“Hold it right there,” he stuffed his books into his bag and slung it over his shoulder. “Before you launch into your whole Noah, you are so infantile! speech, lemme just say that you clearly need to be educated in the ways of the electric guitar.”
“Oh wait, let me guess: I haven’t lived until I've listened to Led Zeppelin stoned.”
“Well, that’s true, but not actually what I was gonna say.” He leaned both hands on her desk so their faces were inches apart and his voice lowered an octave. If Rachel wasn’t hopelessly devoted to Finn, the gesture might have made her stomach flip. “I was gonna say that you, Rachel Berry, are coming over to my house tomorrow night and I’m gonna show you what you’re missing.”
“Ugh, someone put me out of my misery already!” She groaned melodramatically as she dropped her forehead onto the desk in grand Berry fashion. He rolled his eyes and mussed her hair. “Come at 7:30, I’m gonna stay late and lift.”
When she came to his house the next day, Mrs. Puckerman was working a double shift so it was just him and his little sister. He didn’t give her much of a chance to introduce herself, instead grabbing fistfuls of junk food on their way up to his room.
“Noah, I didn’t know you had a sibling,” she commented as he closed his door.
“Yeah, that’s cause I’d rather forget.” His mouth was full of some sort of deli meat that she was pretty sure he was starting to wash down with soda before he finished chewing. As he settled down, she took a look around his room and couldn’t help but feel a jolt of nervous energy. It was less the idea of being alone with Puck that gave her the jitters, and more the fact that it was his bedroom. That she was sitting on his bed and she could totally see a pair of his boxers in a pile of laundry in the corner.
This was the first (straight) guy’s room she had ever been in, and the thought in and of itself was pretty terrifying. Then considering their whole history and the fact that Rachel had to remind herself fairly often that they were polar opposite personalities and there was more to men than finely chiseled abs and the throaty way he had called her "babe"...It was becoming increasingly clear that her current situation was rapidly spiraling out of control.
That is, until the sound of a loud, Puck-toned belch promptly woke her from her reverie.
“Noah, you are such a heathen.”
That night, she left his house with seven "fuckin' classic rock albums." She pretended like it was some huge chore waiting for him to finish up, but secretly, she liked the idea of expanding her horizons. Plus, he may have chosen CDs from his shelves randomly, but the way he scribbled track numbers on Post-Its was undeniably adorable and very un-Puck.
Two days later, she texted him during third period (oh yeah, that was something they did now too: texting. No open acknowledgement of each other in the halls or basically anywhere other than Glee, but they texted each other pretty often. Say what? No joke.)
Berry 11:37:29 AM: Left something for you by your guitar in the Glee room. Pick it up immediately, they are some of my most prized possessions and if any are missing I will hold you personally accountable!!!!!!
Berry 11:38:15 AM: Oh and I heard there’s a big game on Friday. I may or may not be incredibly offended you never mentioned it. Good luck!!! :)
Before lunch, he swung by and picked up a small bag of CDs. A note was folded and tucked into the sleeve of the one on the top of the stack.
Guns’n’Roses is abhorrent, Led Zeppelin wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be, and I kind of like Kings of Leon. Haven’t had the chance to listen to the others yet. Jury’s still out on whether I’m looking forward to it. Until then, it’s only fair that you do the same. I’ll expect a full report on these when I see you next. Preferably double spaced, in 12 point Times New Roman font.
---
So, to make a long story even longer, yes. That was a Liza Minnelli CD that just fell out of Puck’s locker.
“Dude, chill out. It’s just some more gay ass shit for Glee, okay?”
TBC
---