Dust Off Your Highest Hopes [1/2]
Title: Dust Off Your Highest Hopes
Chapter: 1/2
Pairing: Finn/Rachel
Summary: There's a staff meeting that's mandatory, and Finn knows it's to introduce the new teacher, so he doesn't complain about it as much as he normally would. He's seen her from behind four times and has yet to see her face. That's just plain weird.
Word Count: 21,500 (total)
Disclaimer: Don't own.
"Coach!"
Finn rolls his eyes, not that anyone can see, and turns around. "What's up, Cody?"
"Look, it's about that report for Geo."
"You mean the report that's due in, oh -" he looks at his watch "- three hours?"
"Yeah, that'd be the one." Finn chuckles. He can already see where this is going, so he turns and starts walking again. "The thing is, my pen broke."
"Report's supposed to be typed, Cody. Nice try."
"Right. My computer broke, too. My hands are totally tied here."
"Uh huh." Finn doesn't want to encourage the kid buy laughing, even if this is so stupid it's funny. "There are computers in the library," he says, and Cody just stares. "And here. Take my pen just in case."
"But I..."
"The way I see it, you've got three hours to write me a report, Cody, and you know I take off 5% for every day it's late. You wanna waste time arguing?"
Cody rolls his eyes - something Finn hates when students direct it at him - and heads towards the library. Finn just shakes his head and keeps walking to the teachers' lounge. The coffee here sucks, but he really needs caffeine after his morning practice. See, Cody? He's the team's star running back and he knows it, therefor he thinks the teachers should give him special treatment, which Finn's instructed them not to do. You don't get a free pass just 'cause you can catch a ball pretty well. Finn doesn't run his team like that, and he doesn't let other teachers get away with handing out grades, and he sure as hell doesn't let his players have other people do their work for them.
He's outside the principal's office - he smiles at the new receptionist, partly because he knows she's got a bit of a thing for him - then sees Schue in his new office, shaking hands with a short woman who has pretty brown hair and looks, well, hot from behind. Between teaching and coaching, he hasn't had time to memorize all the new teachers' names and faces. He's probably met her before and just didn't get a good look at her. Not from this angle, anyway.
He'd remember an ass like that.
He's teaching senior geography first period, so he heads to his classroom after grabbing that cup of coffee. It tastes mostly like garbage, but he's learned that if you put chocolate milk in it instead of 2% or cream, it cuts the bitterness. Trick of the trade. He spreads out his notes for the day's lesson, and roots for a new pen. Senior geography is actually awesome, since the kids are actually learning about the world. He's heard some freshmen and sophomores calling his geography class 'colouring class'. It bugs him, yeah, 'cause he's just following curriculum here. He teaches them more than that, obviously, but yeah, there's a lot of shading and naming countries and capitals at first.
And Cody's junior class is all about North American geography. And that report? Assigned three weeks ago, and he's reminded the kid, and the rest of the class, about it at least twice a week since then.
He loves teaching, and geography has always been kind of easy for him, for some reason, so when his college advisor told him he should pick something else to be qualified to teach it was kind of a no-brainer. He enjoys it, even if he's glad most of his schedule is crammed with athletics instead.
He looks up from his lesson plan when he hears a really cute laugh in the hall, and he sees that same woman's back again, as she walks with Schuester.
Yeah, he totally would have remembered that ass.
"Mr. Hudson?"
Shit. He turns quickly and sees Laura Vandersloot standing in the doorway. He kind of wonders how long she's been there, because he's been thinking about that woman since she walked by, and trying to figure out if he knows her, or how he could somehow manage to put himself in the position to see her face.
Either way, he goes, "Yeah," and sounds awkward as hell. "What's up?"
"Um. That report for geography." He wants to sigh heavily, but Laura is one of the top students in his junior class, and all her other classes, actually, as well as being a phenomenal volleyball player, and, for whatever it's worth, a member of the school's glee club. "I have most of it done, but I was wondering if I could get an extension?"
This isn't like her at all.
"Why haven't you finished it?"
She looks really sad, and she presses her lips together, and god, he's bracing himself for the worst here, and he really isn't equipped to deal with it. That's not totally true, but he's worried about her. She steps further into the room and closes the door behind her. No one else is really at the school this early, other than athletes and teachers, but students will start filtering in quickly.
"My parents are splitting up," she says quietly, looking to her feet.
Shit.
"I'm sorry," he says sincerely. He's kind of in shock, actually.
"Yeah. They told me on the weekend and I thought I could get my work done, but..." She looks up at him with tears in her eyes. "I have a note and everything, if you want, or you can...Well, my mom's a mess, so don't call her, but my dad..."
"Hey, it's okay," he says, and stands up. He's not one of those weird teachers who hugs his students - that's totally inappropriate and he doesn't get why anyone would cross that line - but he folds his arms against his chest and she takes a deep breath. "Don't worry about it. Just get it to me when you can."
"Can you, um." She swipes at her eyes and wipes her hands on her jeans. "Can you not tell anyone? Even other teachers."
He gives her a sad smile and nods his head. "As long as you don't tell other students I gave you more time."
She laughs tearfully. "Deal."
She goes to leave, but he really wants to be the teacher who actually cares about his students. He is that teacher. He does feel like he has a responsibility to help them, whether that means helping them improve as athletes, or people, or with their school work. He doesn't want her to just walk out of here and have to deal with all this on her own. He doesn't know much about her family life, other than the fact that her parents always seemed okay when they came to parent-teacher conferences and stuff. He doesn't know if she has anyone to share this with. He hopes she's at least told one of her friends.
"Laura, you can talk to me, okay?" he says, and she nods, but he doesn't really think she gets it. "I mean it. Don't just let it all pile up."
She gives him a little smile. "Thanks, Mr. Hudson."
Today is a really weird day and he doesn't know what to make of it.
... ... ...
So far, she likes what she's seen. The school is large for the amount of students it has, which bothers her only because it'll take her a few days to know where everything is. Principal Schuester met her at the front door this morning. Her first interview with him was over the phone, and her second was with a panel at the school board's office. She managed to get a job at this school without ever setting foot in it. They needed someone quickly, when their previous principal retired barely three weeks into the school year. Apparently he was going to take a sabbatical, but the board suggested early retirement and he jumped at the chance. They promoted Will Schuester, which left a vacancy - a rather large one - in the music department. Rachel's heard he also taught Spanish, but that is out of her realm of expertise. She hasn't taken Spanish since she, herself, was in high school.
She teaches music. When everyone was telling her to pick another specialty, she ignored them. Any other area of study would have just taken up time she didn't have, and it would have made her a worse music teacher. She's good at what she does - her last concert band won a national title - and this school district and this school in particular are under-spending their arts budgets, which means the budget could be cut. It's just ridiculous. Mr. Schuester told her that there's money he didn't even know about, just sitting there, and if he'd known it was his for the taking, he would have done a ton more with his glee club.
He calls it his 'baby'. Rachel doesn't want to be condescending, but 10 students and two rehearsals a week does not a glee club make.
She's got her work cut out for her.
Her first class of the day is a first year music class, which she hates to say gives her a headache. Hearing a 14-year-old squawk on a clarinet for 50 minutes would be bad enough, and this is a class of 24. That said, it's nice to know what she's starting from. Apparently the town's junior high had it's music program cut in half two years ago. Some of these kids are picking up instruments for the first time. It breaks her heart a little.
After her second class of the day (sophomore Music History, which she thinks is going to be really fun), she is dying for another cup of tea, but, like the first-day-of-school cliché she's been trying so hard not to be, she can't remember her way to the teacher's lounge. It doesn't help that many of the students in this school are taller than her. How did they get so tall? She almost gets lost among them in the hall.
"Can I help you?"
Rachel spins around and sees a beautiful woman in grey pants and a white tunic top standing there with a strange expression on her face. She's obviously a teacher here, though Rachel has only met about three members of the faculty, and this woman was not one of them.
"You've walked past my door twice in a minute and a half," the woman says, and Rachel smiles down at the linoleum. "You lost?"
"I'm Rachel Berry, the new music teacher," she says, and extends her hand for the woman to shake, which she does.
"Santana Lopez."
"Spanish teacher?" Santana cringes a little and shakes her head. Oh, god. "I am so sorry. I didn't mean..."
"It's okay," Santana laughs. "I get that a lot, actually. And I have taught Spanish, but it hurts a little to constantly hear the kids bastardizing the language." Rachel doesn't mean to laugh, but it does put her at ease. "I teach math. A lot of it, actually." Rachel just nods and smiles. "So, where are you trying to go?"
"The teacher's lounge. I think I'm running out of time to make a tea, though."
"Just go to the cafeteria."
"I don't remember where that is, either."
Santana laughs again. This is honestly a rather warm welcome. Warmer than her last school, anyway. "Straight down this hall, hang a right. It's on the left hand side. If you hit the gym, you've gone too far."
"Thank you," Rachel says sincerely.
"No worries."
Rachel's barely four feet away when she hears Santana reprimanding a student for a word he uses. The thing Rachel's unsure of is if he was talking about her body that way, or someone else's. She's too embarrassed to turn around and find out.
She's in line in the cafeteria (and secretly hoping she can make her way back to her classroom with no troubles) when she hears someone shout, "Coach!" behind her. She turns around, curious to see another coworker's face. She knows she'll meet them all eventually, but she feels like a visitor, on the outside looking in, and it does bother her just a little.
And she suspects this tall, handsome man is the football coach, since he catches the ball one of the students tosses to him, and then laughingly tells the boy not to throw it within the school's walls.
He's young. Her perspective on athletics coaches is that they're old, cranky, and walk around like they own the school just because of the rings on their fingers or the trophies in the cases. Her last school's athletics department was huge and prestigious and she hated just about everything about it, because there was a terrible stigma that if you weren't involved in sports, you didn't matter. On the whole, the music department was more successful than the athletics department, but no one seemed to care.
She's been hoping it's not the same here. Schuester gave her a non-committal answer when she asked. She wonders if there's a public school in America that values the arts more than sports. Probably not.
But this coach is young and fun, and seems to have a great relationship with the students. She recognizes one of the boys from the class she just taught, and he wasn't wearing his letter jacket during her lesson, so she didn't know he was an athlete.
When she tries to pay for her tea, the lovely woman at the register won't let her. "First day perk," the woman says, and Rachel smiles and says a sincere thank you.
She likes it here.
... ... ...
There's a staff meeting that's mandatory, and Finn knows it's to introduce the new teacher, so he doesn't complain about it as much as he normally would. He's seen her from behind four times and has yet to see her face. That's just plain weird. He sits next to Santana and they make plans to go out Friday night, which would probably sound odd, to most people, only he's known her literally his entire life (okay, since he was four) and she's married to his best friend. And he has known Puck literally his entire life. Their moms met in a support group for new, single mothers. Puck's dad had run off when his mom was pregnant, and Finn's dad died when he was just a baby. They've been friends since before they knew what that word even was. Or what any words were. Whatever.
Santana texts Puck to tell him they're going for drinks Friday night, even though she probably doesn't have to since they hang out a lot. Since Finn's known them so long and been friends with them forever, it's not weird when it's just the three of them. It's nice, actually, as long as no one mentions that Santana and Puck were each others' firsts and she also took Finn's virginity. You'd think it'd be an easy thing to avoid, but when alcohol is involved, it gets a little harder to keep shit from being said.
Anyway.
Finn's lived in this town his entire life and he's never seen this woman before. Schuester introduces her as Rachel Berry. He doesn't know the name and he can't place her at all.
She's really, really beautiful. Of course, he can't say that, because it'd be unprofessional or something. And whatever. He's a single guy and he's allowed to think she's pretty.
"I'm so, so happy to be here," she says after Will tells her to say a few words, if she'd like. She scans the crowd and doesn't seem nervous. "Yesterday was completely hectic, but I do hope to speak with you all soon. And please bear with me if I ask seemingly silly questions as I try to navigate around the school. Actually, the entire town. I've been here exactly five days and I still only know how to get to work and to the grocery store from my house."
Yeah, she talks a lot. Usually when people talk a lot, Finn gets bored, but he just thinks she's really sweet.
"I'm from upstate New York," she continues. "Near Syracuse. I went to school in New York City and then taught at a school in Connecticut for three years. Now here I am."
"Yo, d'you think there's intermission to this performance?" Santana snipes, and Finn elbows her gently in the arm. She's such a bitch sometimes, even if he knows she's joking. She takes a sip of her coffee and he watches a lock of Rachel's hair fall down over her shoulder.
"I'm really excited to work with all of you."
Finn's smiling. She just seems really, really nice.
... ... ...
"What're you doing Friday?" Santana asks, waltzing into the choir room, where Rachel's just finishing sorting through yet another stack of tattered sheet music. She doesn't even know what she's looking for. She just assumes she'll know when she finds it.
"Likely making a trip to Lowe's and beginning to paint my living room, which will, I assure you, be the first of many rooms in my house which get makeovers."
Santana just stares at her for a second. Does she always dress like that? She looks so stylish and so put-together. Today she's wearing black pants that are wide-legged and have a black belt attached, the ends of which hang down the front of her thigh, and a tailored red dress shirt that looks like it's never been worn before.
Rachel's wearing dark jeans and a plain black sweater over a white oxford shirt. She feels completely inadequate. It's not a new feeling, but it's not necessarily nice, either.
"You should come for drinks. It'll just me and my husband and..."
"You're married?" Rachel asks, eyes wide as she smiles.
Santana looks to her hand, and yes, there is a gold band on her finger. Rachel didn't notice it before. "Yeah, for a few years. He's useless sometimes, but I guess I love him anyway." Rachel laughs, only because she can tell the woman doesn't mean that in any serious way. "C'mon. One drink, then you can like, tape off the trim in your house, or whatever."
She considers it, she really does, but the only house she could manage to close a deal on, on such short notice anyway, was this small little rancher that hasn't been renovated or updated at all since the 1970s. It's nice, and she likes it well enough, but it isn't a permanent solution. The real estate agent she dealt with convinced her that if she just puts a little bit of money into updating it, she can sell it for more than she bought it for. It's not the worst logic she's ever heard, and while she thinks she'll eventually need help with some of the bigger projects, like ripping up the carpet in the basement, and installing new light fixtures everywhere, a fresh coat of paint in a colour that doesn't remind her of baby food would be a good place to start. And she can do it on her own.
"I really appreciate the offer, but can you take a raincheck? It's just that I'm barely settling in, and I still don't..."
"It's cool," Santana laughs. "Just let me know if you change your mind, all right? Offer stands."
She does spend her entire weekend painting, but she manages to get her entire living room done - two coats - and does the downstairs bathroom, as well. She feels like she's gotten a lot done, until she sees the paint swatches on her kitchen table and she's reminded that she's done two rooms of the entire house, and if she can't work a little faster, it'll be weeks before she's even done with painting.
She cries, a little bit, and calls her dad, who's always had a knack for decorating, and he tells her she'll get it all done, and who cares if her spare bedroom has to stay pea green just a few weeks longer?
She misses them so much. At least when she was in New York or Connecticut, they weren't too far that she couldn't go see them on weekends if she wanted to. She's never been this far away from them. She's not homesick, but she wishes they were closer, and she remembers moving into her condo in Hartford and having her dads there to help her with all these things. She's done this move completely on her own, and yes, it's what she wanted, but that doesn't mean she can't miss the way things used to be, too.
Monday morning, Artie, one of the science teachers, is sitting with her in the teachers' lounge, being sweet and asking how her weekend went and how she's settling in, and he notices a swipe of paint on her forearm. He laughs first, then compliments the colour (a green so light it's nearly white) and gives her a few tips on how to get paint off skin. She doesn't ask how he knows.
That handsome coach walks in with Santana, and they're always together, she realizes. Well, not always, but they're together a lot. He pours Santana's cup of coffee, and she splashes some milk into his, and Rachel watches in fascination at how comfortable they are together.
"Is she married to that coach?" Rachel asks quietly, and Artie doesn't laugh, but it looks like he wants to.
"No. She's married to his best friend." Rachel knows her eyes go wide, but Artie just shrugs. "They've all known each other forever. Small town."
"Have you known them forever?"
"I moved here after the accident," he says. She assumes that means the one that left him wheelchair-bound. "The hospital here has a great rehab facility." She nods her head. "I've known them since then. So over 15 years, I guess?"
"Wow," she says, a little breathless. Santana steals the donut the coach wanted, and he goes, "Oh, come on," and follows her back out into the hall.
No wonder she feels like she doesn't quite fit in yet.
... ... ...
He finally sees Rachel alone so he can properly introduce himself, and he's feeling weird about it because he's in his stupid sweats because he's teaching gym all afternoon. She's carrying so many files it looks like she's going to topple over. He sees it as an in.
He jogs down the hall toward her, and says, "Here," as he holds out his arms. She smiles as she lets him take the files from her. "I'm Finn Hudson."
"I know. I mean, I've...I know."
Yeah. She's cute.
"How's everything going?"
"Not bad. I finally feel like I know where I'm going around here," she says, and it's not hard to figure out where they're headed, considering she's the music teacher and her office is right between the choir and band rooms.
"Where do you want this?" he asks, looking around her office. Everything's super tidy and neat, and it actually feels like, comfortable in here. His office is a freaking mess most of the time, his desk covered with plays and paperwork.
"On the desk is fine, thank you," she says, and she's got this really pretty smile. He knew that, but it's different when he's the only one around. It means she's smiling at him, which is kind of a big deal. "Do you have a spare period now as well?"
"Yeah," he answers with a shrug of his shoulders. "And then I get to end the day going over the health unit with a bunch of 16 year old boys."
"Oh, my," she says, and then giggles. "I don't envy you."
Hell, the students at this school are probably having more sex than he is.
He did not just think that while standing in front of this really gorgeous woman. He didn't.
"So, you just like, packed up and moved? What does your husband do?"
Okay, that sounded a lot smoother in his head.
"I'm not married," she says, pushing her hair back behind her ear.
"Oh."
"Are you?" she asks, and there's a little bite to it, like she's trying to prove a point he doesn't really get, or something.
"No," he laughs. "I didn't mean to assume, it's just, you know." She gives him this look, like he's not making any sense. He's not and he knows it. He feels like he might start blushing. "People our age are starting to get married and stuff."
Oh, good, Finn. Mumble at the pretty girl.
"They are," she says quietly. "Um, I actually have to..."
"Yeah," he says, when she gestures at the pile of stuff he just put on her desk. "I'll see you around?"
She smiles at him again and suddenly he feels like less of a massive douchebag. "You will, Finn."
He grins going down the hall.
She smiles at him in the parking lot the next day, because the faculty lot is next to the football field and he's just finishing up a morning practice as she pulls up. They're both walking across the asphalt towards different entrances, and they're both wearing sunglasses, but he still sees her smiling.
He's attracted to women all the time. He sees women and thinks they're pretty on a pretty much daily basis. This is different, though, and it's weird, but he wants to see her more. He actually liked talking to her, and he kind of wants to do it again to see if he can be less of a moron in front of her. He's not stupid and he doesn't want her to think he is.
He really doesn't know what it is about her that has him so twisted up. She's a coworker and he doesn't know anything about her.
It's been a while since his last relationship, if you can really call it that. He dated a woman from two towns over for a few months last year, but she had a kid and it was all fucking complicated, and he realized it wasn't really worth it. He liked her and everything, but not enough. He's had a lot of things like that, short little relationships that don't really go anywhere. His last serious relationship was during college, when he was with Brittany for two years.
He likes relationships, though. He likes the comfort level there and everything. It's nice to just be with someone and think they get you, at little, on at least some level. He kind of misses what he had with Brittany, sometimes, because they never expected things of one another. Their relationship worked because they liked each other for exactly who they were. He's wished, before, that their relationship hadn't just faded out like that, like maybe he could have done something to save it.
But now he's all happy over getting smiled at, so maybe he's glad he's single.
... ... ...
She's finally got fourteen members in the glee club, and though they're very unpolished and not very confident in themselves, she really wants to set up an invitational so they can hopefully go to Sectionals this year. Her hopes aren't incredibly high that they'll do any better than the last few years, but she wants to try. Will took the club to Sectionals last year, where they came in last.
That will just not do.
She's finally found some music the kids are comfortable performing. She found the sheet music to Hard Knock Life and one of her students loves to rap and is quite good at it, so she thinks the Jay-Z version is a good idea, since she wants to encourage him.
That just gives her ideas.
Kingsley is one of the club's most talented performers, and he can sing, of course, but rapping is his strength and she wants to use that to their advantage. She starts thinking about Broadway songs and rap songs, and she decides, after a lot of thought, to go with that theme. She painstakingly arranges Kanye West's All Of The Lights and Light My Candle from RENT. Then she works Drake's Fancy and Popular from Wicked together.
The kids are excited. Kingsley is absolutely thrilled, and his confidence is boosted, and they're having fun in practices, instead of just bickering about what songs they should do. She doesn't care that it took her hours of her own time to work the songs together. Seeing the kids actually encouraging each other and having fun is absolutely worth it.
"Kingsley." She calls his name after rehearsal, when he's talking with Laura, one of her not-as-strong but still adequate singers. He hangs back while the rest of the group leaves the room. "How do you feel?"
The smile on his face really just makes her feel wonderful.
"Feelin' good, Ms. B."
Rachel tilts her head at him. She's going to continue to act as though she doesn't like the little nickname he and some of the other students have imposed upon her. Her last school was far too proper to allow students to be so casual with faculty. She likes it here at McKinley, because she doesn't feel as though there's some great divide between the students and their teachers.
"You're not feeling overwhelmed, right? Because I don't want you to feel like you have to carry the club on your back. It shouldn't be like that. I just..."
"It's all good," he says, looking at her like she's slightly insane. "I like the pressure."
"Do you?" she laughs.
"I'm on the football team and stuff, so I know..."
She didn't know that. How did she not know that? "You are?"
He just nods. "Yeah. I'm just not like the other guys. I think wearing the letter jacket and all that's stupid." She doesn't want to smile, but she does, even as she crosses her arms. "I just like to play the game."
She doesn't like playing favourites, but if she had to...
"When does your season start?"
He laughs at her, then, and shakes his head. "C'mon, Ms. B. You're killin' me. Our first game was last week."
Oh.
She'd ask if they won, but then it'd even more be obvious that she just doesn't really pay attention to athletics. Her last job didn't require her to, but this is a smaller school and she's closer with her students already, and she wants to support them, and her coworkers, too.
She decides to go to the game on Friday.
Wednesday rolls around and Will Schuester pops his head into her office and asks if she's got a minute, which she obviously does, since she's just sitting here with her iPod on, listening to a recording (if it can even be called that; was this done in someone's garage?) of one of the choirs that's already slated to perform at Sectionals.
"I'm looking for someone to sing the anthem at the game this Friday," he tells her, and she just looks at him. "I was thinking about Laura."
Rachel smiles and nods her head. "I can ask her. I have her this afternoon for Music History."
"Great. We're all getting tired of the same recording, and I figured with us trying to bring more of a spotlight on our arts programs, why not have someone sing it live?"
"It's a great idea," Rachel agrees. "I'm sure she'll say yes."
And she does, and she seems excited for it, until Friday night, when one of the cheerleaders comes up to the stands and grabs Rachel, saying Laura needs her in the tunnel. Rachel's completely confused by this turn of events, but she follows the cheerleader over to the tunnel. Laura is standing there, white as a sheet, clutching the microphone so hard her knuckles look fit to split.
"Laura, honey." (Rachel has this thing where she talks in dulcet, soothing tones when she sees people like this. It's not something she can help, though sometimes she wishes she could.) "What's..."
"I can't do this," Laura gasps. "I'm...Glee club is one thing, because I'm with a group and there are other people, but I can't stand here in front of a thousand people and sing! What if I mess up the words, or..."
"You can do it," Rachel says, but the girl looks anything but convinced, and her breathing is hard. There's no way Rachel is sending Laura out there if she's uncomfortable or this nervous. "But you don't have to, all right?"
"I don't want to," Laura admits. Rachel's not mad at her, of course. She said she'd do it, but stage fright can creep up on you if you're not used to performing on your own. Rachel would never make a student do something he or she wasn't totally comfortable doing.
So she takes the microphone, because by her estimation, they need a singer in roughly two minutes, and, well, someone has to step up to the plate.
At this point, it's going to have to be her.
She quickly warms up her voice, which means basically nothing because a proper warm up takes much more than two minutes in a freaking concrete tunnel. Judging by the way Laura is looking at her, the girl had no idea Rachel could sing. Hadn't she mentioned that to her students? Surely she had. Maybe they just haven't heard her yet.
They're announcing her name, though - she sent the cheerleader up to the booth to give them the change of names so Laura wouldn't be embarrassed by having her name announced and everyone knowing she couldn't do it - and so she steps out of the tunnel and onto the turf with the microphone in her hands.
She's done this a hundred times before.
Never, though, with a handsome football coach standing there 20 feet away, watching her with an absolutely gorgeous smile on his face.
... ... ...
Okay, so he's really, really attracted to her. She's a music teacher, so he kind of figured she'd have some kind of musical talent, but as he's standing there with his hand on his chest, watching her belt out the anthem in her little red pea coat with her white scarf wrapped around her neck, he's kind of blown away.
He wants to know what the hell she's doing teaching at a small town school when she's got a voice like that. Actually, he'd like to know why she's teaching at all when she's got a voice like that.
She's fucking amazing.
He can tell everyone's as in awe of her as he is. People this talented don't live in this town, okay? Like, sure, some of the kids who've been in the glee club or the band over the years have been pretty good, but they weren't like that, and he knows more than one of them went to school on music scholarships. Rachel is like, star-quality good.
When the crowd cheers and she finishes, Finn walks over to her and puts his hand on her shoulder, like he'd do anyone else who sang the anthem on a game night, and she looks up at him with these bright, sparkling eyes. He's only talked to her once and seen her face a few times, but he's never seen her like this. It's like she's feeling some rush of adrenaline or something, and god. She's gorgeous.
"That was incredible," he says, and she smiles so bright it makes his insides twist. "Thank you."
It's dumb to thank her, maybe, but she has her hand on his forearm and she squeezes and says, "Good luck," in this voice that is so cute it throws him off a little bit.
When he gets back to the team, he has to force himself not to watch her head back up into the stands and take a seat all by herself.
He talks to Santana and Puck about it the next day when they meet for drinks after dinner. Santana doesn't give a fuck about football any more now than she did when they were in school and her boyfriend was playing. She doesn't refuse to come to games, but she doesn't show most weeks. Sometimes she and Puck will come, and sometimes it's just Puck, but it's okay. Finn knows how much Santana hates to be cold, too. She doesn't like sitting in the stands and trying to keep warm while watching a game she doesn't care about.
Anyway, he's trying to adequately explain how fucking good a singer Rachel is, and they don't seem to be getting it.
"Okay, is this girl hot?" Puck asks, and Finn rolls his eyes while Santana says, "Yup."
"That's not...That doesn't have anything to do with it, okay? She's just really talented."
"And fucking sexy," Santana says. Finn glares, but she just shrugs her shoulder. "The fact that you won't just admit it only makes me believe you're into her."
"I don't even know her."
Puck's just laughing, the asshole. He usually picks Santana's side, though, and Finn's almost glad they're not really ganging up on him.
"Admit you think she's hot. Admit it."
"Shut up."
"Just say it, Finn. It's okay."
"Santana, don't."
"Look, it's not a big deal if you wanna fuck her, okay? It's..."
"God!" he hisses, slamming his beer bottle down on the table. "Why do you do that? Just...Just drop it."
Neither of his friends say anything, so he knows they're gonna continue to be assholes all fucking night. He gets up and leaves, stiffing them for his part of the bill, but whatever. They can take care of it for him if they're gonna be such dicks.
And obviously he thinks Rachel is attractive, but he knows like, three things about her. The problem isn't that he thinks she's hot. The problem is that he wants to talk to her more.
... ... ...
During her spare period on Tuesday, she ventures to the supply room where the poster board and surplus art supplies are kept. She's planning on playing theory Jeopardy with her freshman music class, because they're struggling and she knows how boring it can be to study this kind of thing. She wants them to do well, and if that means taking her entire planning period to come up with a game board and questions, she'll do it.
She's just about to walk into the storage room when Finn rounds the corner, and if she's not mistaken, he only starts smiling when he sees her.
She lets him get the door for her.
"Congratulations on the win," she says when he follows her into the room. She wonders if he was coming in here, too, or if he's just looking for a conversation.
Gosh, he looks good in his light grey button down and black slacks. It's nice to see him without his gym clothes on.
"Thanks." He's so sincere. It's refreshing. "What're you doing?" he chuckles when she reaches up in an attempt to grab the royal blue poster board from the high shelf it's on.
It's only a little annoying that he gets it for her so easily.
"I'm making a Jeopardy board. Do you know if there are glitter pens anywhere? Preferably gold, though I guess silver would do in a pinch." He laughs at her again. She doesn't know what to make of that, but she spots some red cardstock cut into squares, and that'll be perfect for her answers. She won't have to cut cardstock herself. "Finn?"
"Um. Not sure on the glitter pens. How 'bout a black Sharpie?"
He's teasing her. She's almost positive he's teasing her.
"What are you doing?" she asks, because she knows he's teaching two geography classes this semester and he's likely got his own work to do.
"I was just going to pick up the copies I had done."
She arches a brow. "Had done? I thought we were responsible for our own copies."
There's a blush on his cheeks and he's looking embarrassed, so yes, she does feel the need to get this whole story.
"I just, um, asked one of the girls in the office, and she said she'd take care of it. I've got a really busy day, and..."
Oh. So one of the secretaries has a thing for him? That's what she deduces from that statement, anyway. She's not jealous. He's just so handsome and so sweet. Look at the colour on his cheeks right now. Tell her that's not the sign of a kind man; he's not bragging and he actually seems shy about how this woman sees him.
And she can guess which secretary it is, too, since only two of them are single and only one of them is under 35.
"You've got a busy day, but you still have time to help me find glitter pens?"
Yes, she's teasing him. The little smile on his face tells her he knows it and makes her feel less like a brat.
"I don't, really," he admits, and their eyes stay locked a beat too long, probably. "But um, Mr. Dell, the art teacher, is pretty good about loaning stuff out. I bet he'll give you all the glitter you want if you just ask."
Rachel smiles and gathers up the things she's found. "I'll keep that in mind. Thank you, Finn."
"You're welcome."
They leave together, and she doesn't stop him from taking the supplies from her. He can probably manage better, since his hands are bigger than hers. (Oh, god, did she really just think that?) He walks with her to her classroom and sets the things on her desk, then smiles at her when she thanks him again for his help. He tells her to have a good day. He'd probably squeeze anyone's shoulder like that in the same situation.
The next morning, she's going over paperwork in the teacher's lounge before classes start for the day, and she's just taken a bite of the muffin she's foolishly indulging in (too many baked treats mean her hips widen, and she tries to avoid that) when Finn sits down across from her.
"How'd it go?"
She swallows down her food (too quickly, and it almost hurts) and licks away the crumbs she knows are on her lips. "Pardon me?"
"Jeopardy," he says with a grin.
God, he's incredibly adorable.
"We're playing this afternoon," she tells him, pushing her bangs off her face.
Did she just play with her hair? She's always been a horrendous flirt, so she doesn't know why she's even bothering. Also, she's not going to get involved with a coworker. It'd be silly and irresponsible, even if he is gorgeous and sweet and quite possibly the nicest man she's met in ages, from what she can tell.
"Oh," he says bashfully. Santana walks into the lounge and says Finn's name, smiles and says good morning to Rachel, but it's clear she really just wants to talk to Finn alone.
Santana is a nice woman and Rachel likes her. She's almost say they're friends. But sometimes she's very cliquey and Rachel feels out of place, like she's not yet welcome into some inner circle that's been here far too long. Maybe that's her being paranoid, but she really was on her own at her last school, too, because she's got a different teaching style than most. There, didn't understand that you can't exactly lecture to teach music, and they didn't think things like, well, Jeopardy, were good teaching tools. Her students' transcripts disagreed, but the faculty had already made up their mind about her. She didn't leave because of that, but it certainly factored into her decision to search for a new job.
"Finn?" she says just as he's beginning to get up out of his seat. He sits back down and smiles at her. "The glee club's invitational is this Thursday night, here in the auditorium." He doesn't say anything. He's going to say no, she just knows it. "Would you like to come? I'm sure it would mean a lot to the kids."
She's being ridiculous. She hasn't personally invited any of the other faculty members. She wonders if she's as transparent as she feels.
"Yeah," he says, with this little grin on his mouth. Rachel feels her expression change to the hopeful one she typically tries not to wear, since it makes her look desperate, or something. "I'll be there."
"Really?"
(Oh, that doesn't sound desperate at all, Rachel.)
He says, "Of course," so easily it makes her smile.
... ... ...
Santana couldn't come, since she's got a standing Thursday night date with her television. He doesn't get why she won't just record the show she wants to watch, but then she dives into a spiel about how it's not one show, it's three shows and it's her one night to have complete control of the television and actually just sit on her ass and enjoy some time with her favourite messed up characters. It's this whole big thing, and the thing with Santana when she gets like this is that you can't interrupt her to get her to stop. It's like, actually impossible.
Anyway, he manages to convince Puck to come. Actually, it's not that hard at all, since Puck's always been into music. And not at all into the crap Santana watches.
Finn learns really fucking quickly that Puck isn't so much here for the music as he is here to check Rachel out and tease the shit out of Finn for...whatever it is he feels for her.
"Where is this chick?"
"Don't call her that," Finn snaps, because jesus, maybe Santana doesn't care what names Puck calls her (actually, Finn really, really doesn't want to know) but Rachel is not a chick. "And keep your voice down. I do work here."
"That her?"
Puck points at a woman Finn's never seen before, and doesn't care to ever see again. Like, since when are fake boobs and bottle blonde his type? He glares at his friend.
"Think like, 15 years younger, jerk. I'm not you."
Puck glares, and yeah, sometimes you have to just knock him down a peg or 10 with a quick insult and he'll stop being a complete dick.
About 10 minutes later, Rachel walks out into the audience and takes the seat that's reserved for her. She looks really hot in her black pants and ruffly green top, her hair all curled. She changed since earlier. She was wearing a dress for school today. He notices her pretty much all the time, but he really liked her dress today.
God, he sounds like a creep.
He nudges Puck's arm, though he doesn't want to, and leans over to tell him where Rachel's sitting. She turns around and makes a gesture to the lighting booth just in time for Puck to be paying attention and see her face.
"Shit, Finn," he laughs quietly. "She's fucking gorgeous."
That's tame, for Puck, so Finn knows he's sincere about it.
"I know."
He shouldn't have said that. There're tons of people around, and he could be talking about anyone and he was pretty discrete when he pointed her out to Puck, but still. The last thing he needs is some rumour going around that he's interested in her, or worse, that they're together. The only reason he'd want people to be saying that is if it were true.
How is it possible that he thinks that way, though? He doesn't know her at all and he's ready to like, be with her? It's not right. He doesn't do shit like this. He just likes her so much, and god, she's really beautiful, and he wants to get to know her. He wonders if she'd say yes if he asked her out on a date.
Maybe the reason he hasn't asked, or even really thought of asking, is because she seems to be pretty by-the-book, and she probably wouldn't date a coworker.
The lights go down and he's still thinking about it as he watches her wring her hands together and the curtain goes up.
And holy shit, the glee club is good. Like, better than ever, and that obviously has a lot to do with her. He knew Kingsley was in glee club, and he'll admit he was worried about how it would cut into his player's practice and workout schedule; the last thing Finn needs is a player whose head isn't in the game. But god, Kingsley's got talent, and Finn's smiling as he watches these students perform. They're obviously having a lot of fun on stage, and it's kind of infectious. Even Puck's tapping his fingers on his thigh and smiling. After the first song is over, Laura is showcased on this song Finn's never heard before, but then it's put together with that Drake song that was always on the radio a while back. Did Rachel put these songs all together? How talented is she? He feels like he's going to keep finding out things she can do and being impressed by her.
After the last song, the crowd goes nuts and the club gets a standing ovation, and okay, they weren't perfect, but considering last year all they did was mediocre covers of classic rock songs, this is like, a million degrees of improvement. Schuester is clapping and hugging Rachel, and Puck whistles next to Finn.
He wants to talk to her. She's obviously busy and stuff, but he might hang out a bit and try to talk to her. She must know how good her group is, so he probably doesn't have to tell her, but he wants to anyway.
"Go ahead," Finn says to Puck as people are filing out of the auditorium.
Puck just grins. "Not a chance in hell, dude. No way am I gonna miss you like, awkwardly telling her she did a good job."
"Puck, that's not even..."
"Not even what? You obviously want her."
"Shut up," Finn hisses. "Seriously. Stop talking."
Puck must sense that he actually means for him to stop talking. This is his workplace, first and foremost.
Puck follows him into the hall and towards the choir room, and the kids are in there, being loud and happy, and it makes Finn smile. Rachel sees him waiting outside - he's not just going to barge in, because he wouldn't want someone doing that in his locker room, you know? - and smiles, comes out into the hall and pulls the door mostly closed behind her.
"That was amazing," he tells her easily, partly because he wants to prove Puck wrong and not be awkward as hell. "It was really...They're awesome."
"Thank you!" she says excitedly, and sets her hand on his arm right above his elbow. "We officially have a berth at Sectionals!"
"That's great!" Puck clears his throat, not subtly at all, and Finn rolls his eyes. "This is Noah Puckerman."
"Santana's husband," Rachel says, and Finn wonders if Santana's been talking to her more than she lets on. "Nice to meet you."
"You too. Nice work." Finn rolls his eyes. Puck's such a dumbass sometimes. "I gotta get home to the wife."
Rachel laughs, for some reason, and it's just really cute. "Thank you for coming."
Puck gives her a nod and smacks Finn on the shoulder, and god, he's never going to hear the end of this.
Puck's barely rounded the corner when Finn apparently loses his mind.
"What are you doing after this?"
Rachel's eyes go wide. "I beg your pardon?"
Shit.
"I just, um, thought maybe we could get a coffee or something. Nothing, you know, major, or whatever, just..."
Rachel tilts her head. "I...I don't think so, Finn," she says quietly, and okay, that hurts more than it should. "Thank you for the offer, but I don't think it's a good idea."
Right. Well. He's only a little pathetic then. She didn't say she doesn't want to, just that...
No, that's bullshit. She totally doesn't want to and she's letting him down easy.
"Okay, well, um." He's such a moron. Why did he have to do that? "I'm gonna take off."
"Finn," she says all soft, looking up at him apologetically.
"Have a good night. And really, again, they were great."
She says his name again right before he starts walking away, but he's kind of feeling like shit, and he doesn't want to stand there and have to pretend he isn't anymore.
... ... ...
She feels terribly over how she acted with Finn the other night. He was being sweet and polite, but she jumped to conclusions and turned down his nice gesture because of it. She doesn't even know if he's single. He probably has a girlfriend. How could he not? Then again, she probably would have heard about that. Her point is that he wasn't asking her on a date, and she acted like he was.
And really, why did she say no? She likes him, doesn't she? What she knows about him so far, she's very interested in. Maybe that's the problem. One date and she'd probably be in over her head with feelings for him. She knows how she gets with men.
Men like him don't approach her or like her, or ask her on dates. She's not in high school any more herself, but she knows she's still the odd duck. The black swan, as Daddy used to call her, as if that sounded any better. (Well, it was better than the names her classmates called her.)
Finn is gorgeous, and athletic, and popular. If they were the students here, rather than teachers, he wouldn't even give her the time of day. She can't punish him for that, or hold it against him, but she also can't stop herself from being aware of it.
He still smiles at her in the hall on Monday, but he doesn't stop to talk to her, and he ducks his head as he approaches so he doesn't keep eye contact with her. How silly is it that she only realizes now that they were flirting a little before, and to miss that? It's ridiculous.
Wednesday, she's walking down the hall after lunch, and she notices a group of boys in letter jackets swarming one of the freshmen. Rachel doesn't have the girl in any of her classes this semester, but they've been introduced, since Sonia is an excellent flautist and they'll work together next semester.
Rachel pushes her way through the crowd, and the look of fear on Sonia's face makes Rachel's stomach turn over. The girl is terrified, and no one should have to feel like that in her own school.
"What's going on here?"
"Nothing," one of the boys says.
Nice try, but she wasn't born yesterday.
Rachel gives him a sharp look as she stands next to Sonia, who is literally shaking. "I find it hard to believe that this is nothing. I assume you all know this school's policy on bullying." The boys just stare, and she knows they're not taking her seriously. "It's zero tolerance."
"Look, nothing happened. It was nothing." This boy with his preppy haircut and his letter jacket is clearly the ringleader. He's holding a Big Gulp, and she thinks he should first disband his group of followers, then enjoy his drink elsewhere.
"I hope you're being honest, because if I see this happening again, I..."
Someone is shoving through the crowd, and he or she knocks into the boy with the drink. It flies forward - with help, she'll later deduce - and before Rachel can react, she's covered in blue ice. It stings her eyes and drips down her skin and the ends of her hair.
And all she can do is gasp at the shock of it.
She's never been more humiliated. She's a teacher. She's supposed to be someone the students look up to.
"Hey!" a voice bellows from nearby, and then Finn is looming over the boys, who suddenly look much smaller. "Brandon, Schuester's office. Now."
"I didn't do anything!"
"Go!" Finn shouts, and god, he's so mad. Brandon doesn't budge, though, and Rachel can't believe she's just standing here like this and letting Finn rescue her. "I'm not an idiot, Brandon. I know what you do with those drinks. You've ben pushing hard for a suspension all year. Congratulations. You're not playing on my team on Friday."
"Coach, that's bullshit!"
"Two games," Finn says, and Sonia, bless her heart, dabs at Rachel's eyes with a couple crumpled up tissues she must have pulled from her locker. "Schuester's office. Ms. Berry and I will be there soon."
The boys all go their separate ways, seeming to not want to either argue with Finn, or go down with Brandon.
There's a hand on her shoulder, and Finn looks down at her and asks if she's okay.
"I'm...cold."
"Come on. Thanks, Sonia."
She thinks it's sweet that he remembers all the students' names. She also now believes those boys were going to throw at least one of those drinks on that girl. It absolutely disgusts her that these children can be so terrible to one another.
She follows Finn, though she really has no idea where they're going until they're in his office and he's closing the door. Most of the slush has dripped off, leaving her just sticky and shivering. Finn takes a fluffy white towel from a pile on a shelf near his door, and his fingertips tilt her chin up so he can dab at her skin.
"They started the slushy thing last year," he tells her. He's being so gentle, and she's still in shock or something. "None of the faculty has been able to catch them in the act, and Figgins was...He didn't seem to give a shit."
Rachel takes the towel from him and squeezes it around the ends of her hair. It comes up blue.
"I think I wiped away your makeup. Sorry."
Rachel manages a little laugh and looks down at herself. Her makeup is the least of her worries. For the most part, her jeans are dry. It's her blouse that's completely ruined.
"It's okay," she says. "Can you...I can't wear this."
Finn walks over to a cupboard in his office. She realizes, when he opens it, that he must hang his school clothes when he's in his gym ones, and vice versa. There's also a pair of khakis, a blazer, and a few ties hanging there. He's got two McKinley polos and a couple ball caps there.
So at least her vision is back enough to peer into his personal effects.
"I have...I mean, it'll be huge, but..." He pulls a pale blue button-down off a hanger and shrugs his shoulder. "It's clean, I swear."
She doesn't even think twice before unbuttoning her blouse and pulling the sticky, wet fabric off her arms. He's sort of cute, pretending not to stare as she stands there in just her bra and skinny jeans. He turns around after a second or two. If someone walked in, she'd be mortified. She's not coming on to him, she's just trying to somehow get comfortable after what just happened to her.
His shirt is massive on her, but she rolls up the sleeves and smiles at the blush on his cheeks as she tucks his shirt into her jeans so it at least won't look like she's swimming in it.
"Thank you," she says, and then looks at her reflection in the little mirror he has atop his filing cabinet. "Oh, god. I look awful."
"No you don't," he says quietly as he stands behind her.
"You're only saying that because I'm wearing your shirt."
Okay, she's feeling bold. What does she have to lose at this point? He's seen her covered in slush. It's not as though today could get any worse, right?
And anyway, Finn just grins at her, stuffs his hands into his pockets, and says, "Well, yeah."
They walk to Schuester's office together, and Brandon ends up suspended two games, since Finn keeps his word. The boy also manages to provoke Schuester into mentioning his terrible grades and putting him on academic probation. If he can't maintain a 75% average, he'll be ineligible to play football. Finn doesn't argue against this.
Schuester also places a permanent ban of slushies on school property.
"Thank you," she says to Finn, again, standing outside the office. "I have no idea how I would have handled that alone."
Finn just smiles and squeezes her elbow. "You would have been fine."
She looks up at him and, god, why is he so attractive? "You're sweet."
She's giving him mixed signals, yes, but honestly, she thinks he knows why anyway.
The day finally ends, after what feels like an eternity. It's silly, but she gets the impression that everyone knows she's wearing Finn's shirt, and that either they've heard about why, or they're making up their own theories. Most of the students and faculty have heard about the incident in the hallway, which is embarrassing enough as it is. The ones who haven't, she's really hoping they don't just assume she and Finn are...
Well, it'd be ridiculous for her to be wearing his shirt to work if they were sleeping together, which they aren't. It shouldn't bother her so much, but it does.
There's no clause in her contract or the handbook that says teachers can't fraternize. God, the principal is married to the guidance counselor, and the one of the other math teachers is in a long-term relationship with the shop teacher. It's none of anyone's business what they or anyone else does, she just really hates the idea of anyone knowing about her relationships. When she was younger, she was all about PDA and she wanted to yell it from the rooftops when she was dating boys, but she's changed, over the years, and she likes her private life to be private. Being a teacher, she feels it's extremely important that her students not know more details about her than necessary. She doesn't want them to see her as anything other than the woman who stands at the front of the class and gives them lessons.
She opens a bottle of wine after slipping into leggings and one of her NYU tee shirts. The way she sees it, she can use a couple glasses of wine after the day she had. While she waits for her dinner to cook, she tosses Finn's shirt in with her lights because she's going to get it back to him as soon as possible. She is not one of those women who thinks that if a man lets you wear his shirt once, that means it's yours. He did her a favour letting her wear it, and she's not going to stretch that beyond the limits of what's acceptable.
Her phone rings as she's watching a rerun of How I Met Your Mother, and she answers, even though it's an unknown number that comes up on her phone.
"I didn't get to talk to you today, but Christ, are you all right?"
Rachel smiles and sets her wine glass on the table. "I'm fine, Santana."
"Really? 'Cause one kid last year was like, allergic to corn syrup and had a massive reaction from that shit."
"I promise. I'm embarrassed, but otherwise perfectly okay."
"God, I hate those fucking kids," Santana kind of growls. Rachel hears the woman's husband laughing in the background. Well, she assumes it's him, anyway. "Seriously. I love teaching them and everything, but they're a bunch of little pricks."
"Well, Brandon Ryder certainly is."
"Well, he's dumb as a bag of rocks, and there's no way in hell he'll make a 75 average. Pretty sure his life'll look a whole lot different if he can't use football as a crutch to make up for the fact that he's like, going nowhere in life."
Rachel really, really shouldn't laugh. She shouldn't. Santana is just hilarious, and maybe she's harsh, but she's saying all the things Rachel wishes she were bold enough to say herself.
...Part II...
Chapter: 1/2
Pairing: Finn/Rachel
Summary: There's a staff meeting that's mandatory, and Finn knows it's to introduce the new teacher, so he doesn't complain about it as much as he normally would. He's seen her from behind four times and has yet to see her face. That's just plain weird.
Word Count: 21,500 (total)
Disclaimer: Don't own.
"Coach!"
Finn rolls his eyes, not that anyone can see, and turns around. "What's up, Cody?"
"Look, it's about that report for Geo."
"You mean the report that's due in, oh -" he looks at his watch "- three hours?"
"Yeah, that'd be the one." Finn chuckles. He can already see where this is going, so he turns and starts walking again. "The thing is, my pen broke."
"Report's supposed to be typed, Cody. Nice try."
"Right. My computer broke, too. My hands are totally tied here."
"Uh huh." Finn doesn't want to encourage the kid buy laughing, even if this is so stupid it's funny. "There are computers in the library," he says, and Cody just stares. "And here. Take my pen just in case."
"But I..."
"The way I see it, you've got three hours to write me a report, Cody, and you know I take off 5% for every day it's late. You wanna waste time arguing?"
Cody rolls his eyes - something Finn hates when students direct it at him - and heads towards the library. Finn just shakes his head and keeps walking to the teachers' lounge. The coffee here sucks, but he really needs caffeine after his morning practice. See, Cody? He's the team's star running back and he knows it, therefor he thinks the teachers should give him special treatment, which Finn's instructed them not to do. You don't get a free pass just 'cause you can catch a ball pretty well. Finn doesn't run his team like that, and he doesn't let other teachers get away with handing out grades, and he sure as hell doesn't let his players have other people do their work for them.
He's outside the principal's office - he smiles at the new receptionist, partly because he knows she's got a bit of a thing for him - then sees Schue in his new office, shaking hands with a short woman who has pretty brown hair and looks, well, hot from behind. Between teaching and coaching, he hasn't had time to memorize all the new teachers' names and faces. He's probably met her before and just didn't get a good look at her. Not from this angle, anyway.
He'd remember an ass like that.
He's teaching senior geography first period, so he heads to his classroom after grabbing that cup of coffee. It tastes mostly like garbage, but he's learned that if you put chocolate milk in it instead of 2% or cream, it cuts the bitterness. Trick of the trade. He spreads out his notes for the day's lesson, and roots for a new pen. Senior geography is actually awesome, since the kids are actually learning about the world. He's heard some freshmen and sophomores calling his geography class 'colouring class'. It bugs him, yeah, 'cause he's just following curriculum here. He teaches them more than that, obviously, but yeah, there's a lot of shading and naming countries and capitals at first.
And Cody's junior class is all about North American geography. And that report? Assigned three weeks ago, and he's reminded the kid, and the rest of the class, about it at least twice a week since then.
He loves teaching, and geography has always been kind of easy for him, for some reason, so when his college advisor told him he should pick something else to be qualified to teach it was kind of a no-brainer. He enjoys it, even if he's glad most of his schedule is crammed with athletics instead.
He looks up from his lesson plan when he hears a really cute laugh in the hall, and he sees that same woman's back again, as she walks with Schuester.
Yeah, he totally would have remembered that ass.
"Mr. Hudson?"
Shit. He turns quickly and sees Laura Vandersloot standing in the doorway. He kind of wonders how long she's been there, because he's been thinking about that woman since she walked by, and trying to figure out if he knows her, or how he could somehow manage to put himself in the position to see her face.
Either way, he goes, "Yeah," and sounds awkward as hell. "What's up?"
"Um. That report for geography." He wants to sigh heavily, but Laura is one of the top students in his junior class, and all her other classes, actually, as well as being a phenomenal volleyball player, and, for whatever it's worth, a member of the school's glee club. "I have most of it done, but I was wondering if I could get an extension?"
This isn't like her at all.
"Why haven't you finished it?"
She looks really sad, and she presses her lips together, and god, he's bracing himself for the worst here, and he really isn't equipped to deal with it. That's not totally true, but he's worried about her. She steps further into the room and closes the door behind her. No one else is really at the school this early, other than athletes and teachers, but students will start filtering in quickly.
"My parents are splitting up," she says quietly, looking to her feet.
Shit.
"I'm sorry," he says sincerely. He's kind of in shock, actually.
"Yeah. They told me on the weekend and I thought I could get my work done, but..." She looks up at him with tears in her eyes. "I have a note and everything, if you want, or you can...Well, my mom's a mess, so don't call her, but my dad..."
"Hey, it's okay," he says, and stands up. He's not one of those weird teachers who hugs his students - that's totally inappropriate and he doesn't get why anyone would cross that line - but he folds his arms against his chest and she takes a deep breath. "Don't worry about it. Just get it to me when you can."
"Can you, um." She swipes at her eyes and wipes her hands on her jeans. "Can you not tell anyone? Even other teachers."
He gives her a sad smile and nods his head. "As long as you don't tell other students I gave you more time."
She laughs tearfully. "Deal."
She goes to leave, but he really wants to be the teacher who actually cares about his students. He is that teacher. He does feel like he has a responsibility to help them, whether that means helping them improve as athletes, or people, or with their school work. He doesn't want her to just walk out of here and have to deal with all this on her own. He doesn't know much about her family life, other than the fact that her parents always seemed okay when they came to parent-teacher conferences and stuff. He doesn't know if she has anyone to share this with. He hopes she's at least told one of her friends.
"Laura, you can talk to me, okay?" he says, and she nods, but he doesn't really think she gets it. "I mean it. Don't just let it all pile up."
She gives him a little smile. "Thanks, Mr. Hudson."
Today is a really weird day and he doesn't know what to make of it.
... ... ...
So far, she likes what she's seen. The school is large for the amount of students it has, which bothers her only because it'll take her a few days to know where everything is. Principal Schuester met her at the front door this morning. Her first interview with him was over the phone, and her second was with a panel at the school board's office. She managed to get a job at this school without ever setting foot in it. They needed someone quickly, when their previous principal retired barely three weeks into the school year. Apparently he was going to take a sabbatical, but the board suggested early retirement and he jumped at the chance. They promoted Will Schuester, which left a vacancy - a rather large one - in the music department. Rachel's heard he also taught Spanish, but that is out of her realm of expertise. She hasn't taken Spanish since she, herself, was in high school.
She teaches music. When everyone was telling her to pick another specialty, she ignored them. Any other area of study would have just taken up time she didn't have, and it would have made her a worse music teacher. She's good at what she does - her last concert band won a national title - and this school district and this school in particular are under-spending their arts budgets, which means the budget could be cut. It's just ridiculous. Mr. Schuester told her that there's money he didn't even know about, just sitting there, and if he'd known it was his for the taking, he would have done a ton more with his glee club.
He calls it his 'baby'. Rachel doesn't want to be condescending, but 10 students and two rehearsals a week does not a glee club make.
She's got her work cut out for her.
Her first class of the day is a first year music class, which she hates to say gives her a headache. Hearing a 14-year-old squawk on a clarinet for 50 minutes would be bad enough, and this is a class of 24. That said, it's nice to know what she's starting from. Apparently the town's junior high had it's music program cut in half two years ago. Some of these kids are picking up instruments for the first time. It breaks her heart a little.
After her second class of the day (sophomore Music History, which she thinks is going to be really fun), she is dying for another cup of tea, but, like the first-day-of-school cliché she's been trying so hard not to be, she can't remember her way to the teacher's lounge. It doesn't help that many of the students in this school are taller than her. How did they get so tall? She almost gets lost among them in the hall.
"Can I help you?"
Rachel spins around and sees a beautiful woman in grey pants and a white tunic top standing there with a strange expression on her face. She's obviously a teacher here, though Rachel has only met about three members of the faculty, and this woman was not one of them.
"You've walked past my door twice in a minute and a half," the woman says, and Rachel smiles down at the linoleum. "You lost?"
"I'm Rachel Berry, the new music teacher," she says, and extends her hand for the woman to shake, which she does.
"Santana Lopez."
"Spanish teacher?" Santana cringes a little and shakes her head. Oh, god. "I am so sorry. I didn't mean..."
"It's okay," Santana laughs. "I get that a lot, actually. And I have taught Spanish, but it hurts a little to constantly hear the kids bastardizing the language." Rachel doesn't mean to laugh, but it does put her at ease. "I teach math. A lot of it, actually." Rachel just nods and smiles. "So, where are you trying to go?"
"The teacher's lounge. I think I'm running out of time to make a tea, though."
"Just go to the cafeteria."
"I don't remember where that is, either."
Santana laughs again. This is honestly a rather warm welcome. Warmer than her last school, anyway. "Straight down this hall, hang a right. It's on the left hand side. If you hit the gym, you've gone too far."
"Thank you," Rachel says sincerely.
"No worries."
Rachel's barely four feet away when she hears Santana reprimanding a student for a word he uses. The thing Rachel's unsure of is if he was talking about her body that way, or someone else's. She's too embarrassed to turn around and find out.
She's in line in the cafeteria (and secretly hoping she can make her way back to her classroom with no troubles) when she hears someone shout, "Coach!" behind her. She turns around, curious to see another coworker's face. She knows she'll meet them all eventually, but she feels like a visitor, on the outside looking in, and it does bother her just a little.
And she suspects this tall, handsome man is the football coach, since he catches the ball one of the students tosses to him, and then laughingly tells the boy not to throw it within the school's walls.
He's young. Her perspective on athletics coaches is that they're old, cranky, and walk around like they own the school just because of the rings on their fingers or the trophies in the cases. Her last school's athletics department was huge and prestigious and she hated just about everything about it, because there was a terrible stigma that if you weren't involved in sports, you didn't matter. On the whole, the music department was more successful than the athletics department, but no one seemed to care.
She's been hoping it's not the same here. Schuester gave her a non-committal answer when she asked. She wonders if there's a public school in America that values the arts more than sports. Probably not.
But this coach is young and fun, and seems to have a great relationship with the students. She recognizes one of the boys from the class she just taught, and he wasn't wearing his letter jacket during her lesson, so she didn't know he was an athlete.
When she tries to pay for her tea, the lovely woman at the register won't let her. "First day perk," the woman says, and Rachel smiles and says a sincere thank you.
She likes it here.
... ... ...
There's a staff meeting that's mandatory, and Finn knows it's to introduce the new teacher, so he doesn't complain about it as much as he normally would. He's seen her from behind four times and has yet to see her face. That's just plain weird. He sits next to Santana and they make plans to go out Friday night, which would probably sound odd, to most people, only he's known her literally his entire life (okay, since he was four) and she's married to his best friend. And he has known Puck literally his entire life. Their moms met in a support group for new, single mothers. Puck's dad had run off when his mom was pregnant, and Finn's dad died when he was just a baby. They've been friends since before they knew what that word even was. Or what any words were. Whatever.
Santana texts Puck to tell him they're going for drinks Friday night, even though she probably doesn't have to since they hang out a lot. Since Finn's known them so long and been friends with them forever, it's not weird when it's just the three of them. It's nice, actually, as long as no one mentions that Santana and Puck were each others' firsts and she also took Finn's virginity. You'd think it'd be an easy thing to avoid, but when alcohol is involved, it gets a little harder to keep shit from being said.
Anyway.
Finn's lived in this town his entire life and he's never seen this woman before. Schuester introduces her as Rachel Berry. He doesn't know the name and he can't place her at all.
She's really, really beautiful. Of course, he can't say that, because it'd be unprofessional or something. And whatever. He's a single guy and he's allowed to think she's pretty.
"I'm so, so happy to be here," she says after Will tells her to say a few words, if she'd like. She scans the crowd and doesn't seem nervous. "Yesterday was completely hectic, but I do hope to speak with you all soon. And please bear with me if I ask seemingly silly questions as I try to navigate around the school. Actually, the entire town. I've been here exactly five days and I still only know how to get to work and to the grocery store from my house."
Yeah, she talks a lot. Usually when people talk a lot, Finn gets bored, but he just thinks she's really sweet.
"I'm from upstate New York," she continues. "Near Syracuse. I went to school in New York City and then taught at a school in Connecticut for three years. Now here I am."
"Yo, d'you think there's intermission to this performance?" Santana snipes, and Finn elbows her gently in the arm. She's such a bitch sometimes, even if he knows she's joking. She takes a sip of her coffee and he watches a lock of Rachel's hair fall down over her shoulder.
"I'm really excited to work with all of you."
Finn's smiling. She just seems really, really nice.
... ... ...
"What're you doing Friday?" Santana asks, waltzing into the choir room, where Rachel's just finishing sorting through yet another stack of tattered sheet music. She doesn't even know what she's looking for. She just assumes she'll know when she finds it.
"Likely making a trip to Lowe's and beginning to paint my living room, which will, I assure you, be the first of many rooms in my house which get makeovers."
Santana just stares at her for a second. Does she always dress like that? She looks so stylish and so put-together. Today she's wearing black pants that are wide-legged and have a black belt attached, the ends of which hang down the front of her thigh, and a tailored red dress shirt that looks like it's never been worn before.
Rachel's wearing dark jeans and a plain black sweater over a white oxford shirt. She feels completely inadequate. It's not a new feeling, but it's not necessarily nice, either.
"You should come for drinks. It'll just me and my husband and..."
"You're married?" Rachel asks, eyes wide as she smiles.
Santana looks to her hand, and yes, there is a gold band on her finger. Rachel didn't notice it before. "Yeah, for a few years. He's useless sometimes, but I guess I love him anyway." Rachel laughs, only because she can tell the woman doesn't mean that in any serious way. "C'mon. One drink, then you can like, tape off the trim in your house, or whatever."
She considers it, she really does, but the only house she could manage to close a deal on, on such short notice anyway, was this small little rancher that hasn't been renovated or updated at all since the 1970s. It's nice, and she likes it well enough, but it isn't a permanent solution. The real estate agent she dealt with convinced her that if she just puts a little bit of money into updating it, she can sell it for more than she bought it for. It's not the worst logic she's ever heard, and while she thinks she'll eventually need help with some of the bigger projects, like ripping up the carpet in the basement, and installing new light fixtures everywhere, a fresh coat of paint in a colour that doesn't remind her of baby food would be a good place to start. And she can do it on her own.
"I really appreciate the offer, but can you take a raincheck? It's just that I'm barely settling in, and I still don't..."
"It's cool," Santana laughs. "Just let me know if you change your mind, all right? Offer stands."
She does spend her entire weekend painting, but she manages to get her entire living room done - two coats - and does the downstairs bathroom, as well. She feels like she's gotten a lot done, until she sees the paint swatches on her kitchen table and she's reminded that she's done two rooms of the entire house, and if she can't work a little faster, it'll be weeks before she's even done with painting.
She cries, a little bit, and calls her dad, who's always had a knack for decorating, and he tells her she'll get it all done, and who cares if her spare bedroom has to stay pea green just a few weeks longer?
She misses them so much. At least when she was in New York or Connecticut, they weren't too far that she couldn't go see them on weekends if she wanted to. She's never been this far away from them. She's not homesick, but she wishes they were closer, and she remembers moving into her condo in Hartford and having her dads there to help her with all these things. She's done this move completely on her own, and yes, it's what she wanted, but that doesn't mean she can't miss the way things used to be, too.
Monday morning, Artie, one of the science teachers, is sitting with her in the teachers' lounge, being sweet and asking how her weekend went and how she's settling in, and he notices a swipe of paint on her forearm. He laughs first, then compliments the colour (a green so light it's nearly white) and gives her a few tips on how to get paint off skin. She doesn't ask how he knows.
That handsome coach walks in with Santana, and they're always together, she realizes. Well, not always, but they're together a lot. He pours Santana's cup of coffee, and she splashes some milk into his, and Rachel watches in fascination at how comfortable they are together.
"Is she married to that coach?" Rachel asks quietly, and Artie doesn't laugh, but it looks like he wants to.
"No. She's married to his best friend." Rachel knows her eyes go wide, but Artie just shrugs. "They've all known each other forever. Small town."
"Have you known them forever?"
"I moved here after the accident," he says. She assumes that means the one that left him wheelchair-bound. "The hospital here has a great rehab facility." She nods her head. "I've known them since then. So over 15 years, I guess?"
"Wow," she says, a little breathless. Santana steals the donut the coach wanted, and he goes, "Oh, come on," and follows her back out into the hall.
No wonder she feels like she doesn't quite fit in yet.
... ... ...
He finally sees Rachel alone so he can properly introduce himself, and he's feeling weird about it because he's in his stupid sweats because he's teaching gym all afternoon. She's carrying so many files it looks like she's going to topple over. He sees it as an in.
He jogs down the hall toward her, and says, "Here," as he holds out his arms. She smiles as she lets him take the files from her. "I'm Finn Hudson."
"I know. I mean, I've...I know."
Yeah. She's cute.
"How's everything going?"
"Not bad. I finally feel like I know where I'm going around here," she says, and it's not hard to figure out where they're headed, considering she's the music teacher and her office is right between the choir and band rooms.
"Where do you want this?" he asks, looking around her office. Everything's super tidy and neat, and it actually feels like, comfortable in here. His office is a freaking mess most of the time, his desk covered with plays and paperwork.
"On the desk is fine, thank you," she says, and she's got this really pretty smile. He knew that, but it's different when he's the only one around. It means she's smiling at him, which is kind of a big deal. "Do you have a spare period now as well?"
"Yeah," he answers with a shrug of his shoulders. "And then I get to end the day going over the health unit with a bunch of 16 year old boys."
"Oh, my," she says, and then giggles. "I don't envy you."
Hell, the students at this school are probably having more sex than he is.
He did not just think that while standing in front of this really gorgeous woman. He didn't.
"So, you just like, packed up and moved? What does your husband do?"
Okay, that sounded a lot smoother in his head.
"I'm not married," she says, pushing her hair back behind her ear.
"Oh."
"Are you?" she asks, and there's a little bite to it, like she's trying to prove a point he doesn't really get, or something.
"No," he laughs. "I didn't mean to assume, it's just, you know." She gives him this look, like he's not making any sense. He's not and he knows it. He feels like he might start blushing. "People our age are starting to get married and stuff."
Oh, good, Finn. Mumble at the pretty girl.
"They are," she says quietly. "Um, I actually have to..."
"Yeah," he says, when she gestures at the pile of stuff he just put on her desk. "I'll see you around?"
She smiles at him again and suddenly he feels like less of a massive douchebag. "You will, Finn."
He grins going down the hall.
She smiles at him in the parking lot the next day, because the faculty lot is next to the football field and he's just finishing up a morning practice as she pulls up. They're both walking across the asphalt towards different entrances, and they're both wearing sunglasses, but he still sees her smiling.
He's attracted to women all the time. He sees women and thinks they're pretty on a pretty much daily basis. This is different, though, and it's weird, but he wants to see her more. He actually liked talking to her, and he kind of wants to do it again to see if he can be less of a moron in front of her. He's not stupid and he doesn't want her to think he is.
He really doesn't know what it is about her that has him so twisted up. She's a coworker and he doesn't know anything about her.
It's been a while since his last relationship, if you can really call it that. He dated a woman from two towns over for a few months last year, but she had a kid and it was all fucking complicated, and he realized it wasn't really worth it. He liked her and everything, but not enough. He's had a lot of things like that, short little relationships that don't really go anywhere. His last serious relationship was during college, when he was with Brittany for two years.
He likes relationships, though. He likes the comfort level there and everything. It's nice to just be with someone and think they get you, at little, on at least some level. He kind of misses what he had with Brittany, sometimes, because they never expected things of one another. Their relationship worked because they liked each other for exactly who they were. He's wished, before, that their relationship hadn't just faded out like that, like maybe he could have done something to save it.
But now he's all happy over getting smiled at, so maybe he's glad he's single.
... ... ...
She's finally got fourteen members in the glee club, and though they're very unpolished and not very confident in themselves, she really wants to set up an invitational so they can hopefully go to Sectionals this year. Her hopes aren't incredibly high that they'll do any better than the last few years, but she wants to try. Will took the club to Sectionals last year, where they came in last.
That will just not do.
She's finally found some music the kids are comfortable performing. She found the sheet music to Hard Knock Life and one of her students loves to rap and is quite good at it, so she thinks the Jay-Z version is a good idea, since she wants to encourage him.
That just gives her ideas.
Kingsley is one of the club's most talented performers, and he can sing, of course, but rapping is his strength and she wants to use that to their advantage. She starts thinking about Broadway songs and rap songs, and she decides, after a lot of thought, to go with that theme. She painstakingly arranges Kanye West's All Of The Lights and Light My Candle from RENT. Then she works Drake's Fancy and Popular from Wicked together.
The kids are excited. Kingsley is absolutely thrilled, and his confidence is boosted, and they're having fun in practices, instead of just bickering about what songs they should do. She doesn't care that it took her hours of her own time to work the songs together. Seeing the kids actually encouraging each other and having fun is absolutely worth it.
"Kingsley." She calls his name after rehearsal, when he's talking with Laura, one of her not-as-strong but still adequate singers. He hangs back while the rest of the group leaves the room. "How do you feel?"
The smile on his face really just makes her feel wonderful.
"Feelin' good, Ms. B."
Rachel tilts her head at him. She's going to continue to act as though she doesn't like the little nickname he and some of the other students have imposed upon her. Her last school was far too proper to allow students to be so casual with faculty. She likes it here at McKinley, because she doesn't feel as though there's some great divide between the students and their teachers.
"You're not feeling overwhelmed, right? Because I don't want you to feel like you have to carry the club on your back. It shouldn't be like that. I just..."
"It's all good," he says, looking at her like she's slightly insane. "I like the pressure."
"Do you?" she laughs.
"I'm on the football team and stuff, so I know..."
She didn't know that. How did she not know that? "You are?"
He just nods. "Yeah. I'm just not like the other guys. I think wearing the letter jacket and all that's stupid." She doesn't want to smile, but she does, even as she crosses her arms. "I just like to play the game."
She doesn't like playing favourites, but if she had to...
"When does your season start?"
He laughs at her, then, and shakes his head. "C'mon, Ms. B. You're killin' me. Our first game was last week."
Oh.
She'd ask if they won, but then it'd even more be obvious that she just doesn't really pay attention to athletics. Her last job didn't require her to, but this is a smaller school and she's closer with her students already, and she wants to support them, and her coworkers, too.
She decides to go to the game on Friday.
Wednesday rolls around and Will Schuester pops his head into her office and asks if she's got a minute, which she obviously does, since she's just sitting here with her iPod on, listening to a recording (if it can even be called that; was this done in someone's garage?) of one of the choirs that's already slated to perform at Sectionals.
"I'm looking for someone to sing the anthem at the game this Friday," he tells her, and she just looks at him. "I was thinking about Laura."
Rachel smiles and nods her head. "I can ask her. I have her this afternoon for Music History."
"Great. We're all getting tired of the same recording, and I figured with us trying to bring more of a spotlight on our arts programs, why not have someone sing it live?"
"It's a great idea," Rachel agrees. "I'm sure she'll say yes."
And she does, and she seems excited for it, until Friday night, when one of the cheerleaders comes up to the stands and grabs Rachel, saying Laura needs her in the tunnel. Rachel's completely confused by this turn of events, but she follows the cheerleader over to the tunnel. Laura is standing there, white as a sheet, clutching the microphone so hard her knuckles look fit to split.
"Laura, honey." (Rachel has this thing where she talks in dulcet, soothing tones when she sees people like this. It's not something she can help, though sometimes she wishes she could.) "What's..."
"I can't do this," Laura gasps. "I'm...Glee club is one thing, because I'm with a group and there are other people, but I can't stand here in front of a thousand people and sing! What if I mess up the words, or..."
"You can do it," Rachel says, but the girl looks anything but convinced, and her breathing is hard. There's no way Rachel is sending Laura out there if she's uncomfortable or this nervous. "But you don't have to, all right?"
"I don't want to," Laura admits. Rachel's not mad at her, of course. She said she'd do it, but stage fright can creep up on you if you're not used to performing on your own. Rachel would never make a student do something he or she wasn't totally comfortable doing.
So she takes the microphone, because by her estimation, they need a singer in roughly two minutes, and, well, someone has to step up to the plate.
At this point, it's going to have to be her.
She quickly warms up her voice, which means basically nothing because a proper warm up takes much more than two minutes in a freaking concrete tunnel. Judging by the way Laura is looking at her, the girl had no idea Rachel could sing. Hadn't she mentioned that to her students? Surely she had. Maybe they just haven't heard her yet.
They're announcing her name, though - she sent the cheerleader up to the booth to give them the change of names so Laura wouldn't be embarrassed by having her name announced and everyone knowing she couldn't do it - and so she steps out of the tunnel and onto the turf with the microphone in her hands.
She's done this a hundred times before.
Never, though, with a handsome football coach standing there 20 feet away, watching her with an absolutely gorgeous smile on his face.
... ... ...
Okay, so he's really, really attracted to her. She's a music teacher, so he kind of figured she'd have some kind of musical talent, but as he's standing there with his hand on his chest, watching her belt out the anthem in her little red pea coat with her white scarf wrapped around her neck, he's kind of blown away.
He wants to know what the hell she's doing teaching at a small town school when she's got a voice like that. Actually, he'd like to know why she's teaching at all when she's got a voice like that.
She's fucking amazing.
He can tell everyone's as in awe of her as he is. People this talented don't live in this town, okay? Like, sure, some of the kids who've been in the glee club or the band over the years have been pretty good, but they weren't like that, and he knows more than one of them went to school on music scholarships. Rachel is like, star-quality good.
When the crowd cheers and she finishes, Finn walks over to her and puts his hand on her shoulder, like he'd do anyone else who sang the anthem on a game night, and she looks up at him with these bright, sparkling eyes. He's only talked to her once and seen her face a few times, but he's never seen her like this. It's like she's feeling some rush of adrenaline or something, and god. She's gorgeous.
"That was incredible," he says, and she smiles so bright it makes his insides twist. "Thank you."
It's dumb to thank her, maybe, but she has her hand on his forearm and she squeezes and says, "Good luck," in this voice that is so cute it throws him off a little bit.
When he gets back to the team, he has to force himself not to watch her head back up into the stands and take a seat all by herself.
He talks to Santana and Puck about it the next day when they meet for drinks after dinner. Santana doesn't give a fuck about football any more now than she did when they were in school and her boyfriend was playing. She doesn't refuse to come to games, but she doesn't show most weeks. Sometimes she and Puck will come, and sometimes it's just Puck, but it's okay. Finn knows how much Santana hates to be cold, too. She doesn't like sitting in the stands and trying to keep warm while watching a game she doesn't care about.
Anyway, he's trying to adequately explain how fucking good a singer Rachel is, and they don't seem to be getting it.
"Okay, is this girl hot?" Puck asks, and Finn rolls his eyes while Santana says, "Yup."
"That's not...That doesn't have anything to do with it, okay? She's just really talented."
"And fucking sexy," Santana says. Finn glares, but she just shrugs her shoulder. "The fact that you won't just admit it only makes me believe you're into her."
"I don't even know her."
Puck's just laughing, the asshole. He usually picks Santana's side, though, and Finn's almost glad they're not really ganging up on him.
"Admit you think she's hot. Admit it."
"Shut up."
"Just say it, Finn. It's okay."
"Santana, don't."
"Look, it's not a big deal if you wanna fuck her, okay? It's..."
"God!" he hisses, slamming his beer bottle down on the table. "Why do you do that? Just...Just drop it."
Neither of his friends say anything, so he knows they're gonna continue to be assholes all fucking night. He gets up and leaves, stiffing them for his part of the bill, but whatever. They can take care of it for him if they're gonna be such dicks.
And obviously he thinks Rachel is attractive, but he knows like, three things about her. The problem isn't that he thinks she's hot. The problem is that he wants to talk to her more.
... ... ...
During her spare period on Tuesday, she ventures to the supply room where the poster board and surplus art supplies are kept. She's planning on playing theory Jeopardy with her freshman music class, because they're struggling and she knows how boring it can be to study this kind of thing. She wants them to do well, and if that means taking her entire planning period to come up with a game board and questions, she'll do it.
She's just about to walk into the storage room when Finn rounds the corner, and if she's not mistaken, he only starts smiling when he sees her.
She lets him get the door for her.
"Congratulations on the win," she says when he follows her into the room. She wonders if he was coming in here, too, or if he's just looking for a conversation.
Gosh, he looks good in his light grey button down and black slacks. It's nice to see him without his gym clothes on.
"Thanks." He's so sincere. It's refreshing. "What're you doing?" he chuckles when she reaches up in an attempt to grab the royal blue poster board from the high shelf it's on.
It's only a little annoying that he gets it for her so easily.
"I'm making a Jeopardy board. Do you know if there are glitter pens anywhere? Preferably gold, though I guess silver would do in a pinch." He laughs at her again. She doesn't know what to make of that, but she spots some red cardstock cut into squares, and that'll be perfect for her answers. She won't have to cut cardstock herself. "Finn?"
"Um. Not sure on the glitter pens. How 'bout a black Sharpie?"
He's teasing her. She's almost positive he's teasing her.
"What are you doing?" she asks, because she knows he's teaching two geography classes this semester and he's likely got his own work to do.
"I was just going to pick up the copies I had done."
She arches a brow. "Had done? I thought we were responsible for our own copies."
There's a blush on his cheeks and he's looking embarrassed, so yes, she does feel the need to get this whole story.
"I just, um, asked one of the girls in the office, and she said she'd take care of it. I've got a really busy day, and..."
Oh. So one of the secretaries has a thing for him? That's what she deduces from that statement, anyway. She's not jealous. He's just so handsome and so sweet. Look at the colour on his cheeks right now. Tell her that's not the sign of a kind man; he's not bragging and he actually seems shy about how this woman sees him.
And she can guess which secretary it is, too, since only two of them are single and only one of them is under 35.
"You've got a busy day, but you still have time to help me find glitter pens?"
Yes, she's teasing him. The little smile on his face tells her he knows it and makes her feel less like a brat.
"I don't, really," he admits, and their eyes stay locked a beat too long, probably. "But um, Mr. Dell, the art teacher, is pretty good about loaning stuff out. I bet he'll give you all the glitter you want if you just ask."
Rachel smiles and gathers up the things she's found. "I'll keep that in mind. Thank you, Finn."
"You're welcome."
They leave together, and she doesn't stop him from taking the supplies from her. He can probably manage better, since his hands are bigger than hers. (Oh, god, did she really just think that?) He walks with her to her classroom and sets the things on her desk, then smiles at her when she thanks him again for his help. He tells her to have a good day. He'd probably squeeze anyone's shoulder like that in the same situation.
The next morning, she's going over paperwork in the teacher's lounge before classes start for the day, and she's just taken a bite of the muffin she's foolishly indulging in (too many baked treats mean her hips widen, and she tries to avoid that) when Finn sits down across from her.
"How'd it go?"
She swallows down her food (too quickly, and it almost hurts) and licks away the crumbs she knows are on her lips. "Pardon me?"
"Jeopardy," he says with a grin.
God, he's incredibly adorable.
"We're playing this afternoon," she tells him, pushing her bangs off her face.
Did she just play with her hair? She's always been a horrendous flirt, so she doesn't know why she's even bothering. Also, she's not going to get involved with a coworker. It'd be silly and irresponsible, even if he is gorgeous and sweet and quite possibly the nicest man she's met in ages, from what she can tell.
"Oh," he says bashfully. Santana walks into the lounge and says Finn's name, smiles and says good morning to Rachel, but it's clear she really just wants to talk to Finn alone.
Santana is a nice woman and Rachel likes her. She's almost say they're friends. But sometimes she's very cliquey and Rachel feels out of place, like she's not yet welcome into some inner circle that's been here far too long. Maybe that's her being paranoid, but she really was on her own at her last school, too, because she's got a different teaching style than most. There, didn't understand that you can't exactly lecture to teach music, and they didn't think things like, well, Jeopardy, were good teaching tools. Her students' transcripts disagreed, but the faculty had already made up their mind about her. She didn't leave because of that, but it certainly factored into her decision to search for a new job.
"Finn?" she says just as he's beginning to get up out of his seat. He sits back down and smiles at her. "The glee club's invitational is this Thursday night, here in the auditorium." He doesn't say anything. He's going to say no, she just knows it. "Would you like to come? I'm sure it would mean a lot to the kids."
She's being ridiculous. She hasn't personally invited any of the other faculty members. She wonders if she's as transparent as she feels.
"Yeah," he says, with this little grin on his mouth. Rachel feels her expression change to the hopeful one she typically tries not to wear, since it makes her look desperate, or something. "I'll be there."
"Really?"
(Oh, that doesn't sound desperate at all, Rachel.)
He says, "Of course," so easily it makes her smile.
... ... ...
Santana couldn't come, since she's got a standing Thursday night date with her television. He doesn't get why she won't just record the show she wants to watch, but then she dives into a spiel about how it's not one show, it's three shows and it's her one night to have complete control of the television and actually just sit on her ass and enjoy some time with her favourite messed up characters. It's this whole big thing, and the thing with Santana when she gets like this is that you can't interrupt her to get her to stop. It's like, actually impossible.
Anyway, he manages to convince Puck to come. Actually, it's not that hard at all, since Puck's always been into music. And not at all into the crap Santana watches.
Finn learns really fucking quickly that Puck isn't so much here for the music as he is here to check Rachel out and tease the shit out of Finn for...whatever it is he feels for her.
"Where is this chick?"
"Don't call her that," Finn snaps, because jesus, maybe Santana doesn't care what names Puck calls her (actually, Finn really, really doesn't want to know) but Rachel is not a chick. "And keep your voice down. I do work here."
"That her?"
Puck points at a woman Finn's never seen before, and doesn't care to ever see again. Like, since when are fake boobs and bottle blonde his type? He glares at his friend.
"Think like, 15 years younger, jerk. I'm not you."
Puck glares, and yeah, sometimes you have to just knock him down a peg or 10 with a quick insult and he'll stop being a complete dick.
About 10 minutes later, Rachel walks out into the audience and takes the seat that's reserved for her. She looks really hot in her black pants and ruffly green top, her hair all curled. She changed since earlier. She was wearing a dress for school today. He notices her pretty much all the time, but he really liked her dress today.
God, he sounds like a creep.
He nudges Puck's arm, though he doesn't want to, and leans over to tell him where Rachel's sitting. She turns around and makes a gesture to the lighting booth just in time for Puck to be paying attention and see her face.
"Shit, Finn," he laughs quietly. "She's fucking gorgeous."
That's tame, for Puck, so Finn knows he's sincere about it.
"I know."
He shouldn't have said that. There're tons of people around, and he could be talking about anyone and he was pretty discrete when he pointed her out to Puck, but still. The last thing he needs is some rumour going around that he's interested in her, or worse, that they're together. The only reason he'd want people to be saying that is if it were true.
How is it possible that he thinks that way, though? He doesn't know her at all and he's ready to like, be with her? It's not right. He doesn't do shit like this. He just likes her so much, and god, she's really beautiful, and he wants to get to know her. He wonders if she'd say yes if he asked her out on a date.
Maybe the reason he hasn't asked, or even really thought of asking, is because she seems to be pretty by-the-book, and she probably wouldn't date a coworker.
The lights go down and he's still thinking about it as he watches her wring her hands together and the curtain goes up.
And holy shit, the glee club is good. Like, better than ever, and that obviously has a lot to do with her. He knew Kingsley was in glee club, and he'll admit he was worried about how it would cut into his player's practice and workout schedule; the last thing Finn needs is a player whose head isn't in the game. But god, Kingsley's got talent, and Finn's smiling as he watches these students perform. They're obviously having a lot of fun on stage, and it's kind of infectious. Even Puck's tapping his fingers on his thigh and smiling. After the first song is over, Laura is showcased on this song Finn's never heard before, but then it's put together with that Drake song that was always on the radio a while back. Did Rachel put these songs all together? How talented is she? He feels like he's going to keep finding out things she can do and being impressed by her.
After the last song, the crowd goes nuts and the club gets a standing ovation, and okay, they weren't perfect, but considering last year all they did was mediocre covers of classic rock songs, this is like, a million degrees of improvement. Schuester is clapping and hugging Rachel, and Puck whistles next to Finn.
He wants to talk to her. She's obviously busy and stuff, but he might hang out a bit and try to talk to her. She must know how good her group is, so he probably doesn't have to tell her, but he wants to anyway.
"Go ahead," Finn says to Puck as people are filing out of the auditorium.
Puck just grins. "Not a chance in hell, dude. No way am I gonna miss you like, awkwardly telling her she did a good job."
"Puck, that's not even..."
"Not even what? You obviously want her."
"Shut up," Finn hisses. "Seriously. Stop talking."
Puck must sense that he actually means for him to stop talking. This is his workplace, first and foremost.
Puck follows him into the hall and towards the choir room, and the kids are in there, being loud and happy, and it makes Finn smile. Rachel sees him waiting outside - he's not just going to barge in, because he wouldn't want someone doing that in his locker room, you know? - and smiles, comes out into the hall and pulls the door mostly closed behind her.
"That was amazing," he tells her easily, partly because he wants to prove Puck wrong and not be awkward as hell. "It was really...They're awesome."
"Thank you!" she says excitedly, and sets her hand on his arm right above his elbow. "We officially have a berth at Sectionals!"
"That's great!" Puck clears his throat, not subtly at all, and Finn rolls his eyes. "This is Noah Puckerman."
"Santana's husband," Rachel says, and Finn wonders if Santana's been talking to her more than she lets on. "Nice to meet you."
"You too. Nice work." Finn rolls his eyes. Puck's such a dumbass sometimes. "I gotta get home to the wife."
Rachel laughs, for some reason, and it's just really cute. "Thank you for coming."
Puck gives her a nod and smacks Finn on the shoulder, and god, he's never going to hear the end of this.
Puck's barely rounded the corner when Finn apparently loses his mind.
"What are you doing after this?"
Rachel's eyes go wide. "I beg your pardon?"
Shit.
"I just, um, thought maybe we could get a coffee or something. Nothing, you know, major, or whatever, just..."
Rachel tilts her head. "I...I don't think so, Finn," she says quietly, and okay, that hurts more than it should. "Thank you for the offer, but I don't think it's a good idea."
Right. Well. He's only a little pathetic then. She didn't say she doesn't want to, just that...
No, that's bullshit. She totally doesn't want to and she's letting him down easy.
"Okay, well, um." He's such a moron. Why did he have to do that? "I'm gonna take off."
"Finn," she says all soft, looking up at him apologetically.
"Have a good night. And really, again, they were great."
She says his name again right before he starts walking away, but he's kind of feeling like shit, and he doesn't want to stand there and have to pretend he isn't anymore.
... ... ...
She feels terribly over how she acted with Finn the other night. He was being sweet and polite, but she jumped to conclusions and turned down his nice gesture because of it. She doesn't even know if he's single. He probably has a girlfriend. How could he not? Then again, she probably would have heard about that. Her point is that he wasn't asking her on a date, and she acted like he was.
And really, why did she say no? She likes him, doesn't she? What she knows about him so far, she's very interested in. Maybe that's the problem. One date and she'd probably be in over her head with feelings for him. She knows how she gets with men.
Men like him don't approach her or like her, or ask her on dates. She's not in high school any more herself, but she knows she's still the odd duck. The black swan, as Daddy used to call her, as if that sounded any better. (Well, it was better than the names her classmates called her.)
Finn is gorgeous, and athletic, and popular. If they were the students here, rather than teachers, he wouldn't even give her the time of day. She can't punish him for that, or hold it against him, but she also can't stop herself from being aware of it.
He still smiles at her in the hall on Monday, but he doesn't stop to talk to her, and he ducks his head as he approaches so he doesn't keep eye contact with her. How silly is it that she only realizes now that they were flirting a little before, and to miss that? It's ridiculous.
Wednesday, she's walking down the hall after lunch, and she notices a group of boys in letter jackets swarming one of the freshmen. Rachel doesn't have the girl in any of her classes this semester, but they've been introduced, since Sonia is an excellent flautist and they'll work together next semester.
Rachel pushes her way through the crowd, and the look of fear on Sonia's face makes Rachel's stomach turn over. The girl is terrified, and no one should have to feel like that in her own school.
"What's going on here?"
"Nothing," one of the boys says.
Nice try, but she wasn't born yesterday.
Rachel gives him a sharp look as she stands next to Sonia, who is literally shaking. "I find it hard to believe that this is nothing. I assume you all know this school's policy on bullying." The boys just stare, and she knows they're not taking her seriously. "It's zero tolerance."
"Look, nothing happened. It was nothing." This boy with his preppy haircut and his letter jacket is clearly the ringleader. He's holding a Big Gulp, and she thinks he should first disband his group of followers, then enjoy his drink elsewhere.
"I hope you're being honest, because if I see this happening again, I..."
Someone is shoving through the crowd, and he or she knocks into the boy with the drink. It flies forward - with help, she'll later deduce - and before Rachel can react, she's covered in blue ice. It stings her eyes and drips down her skin and the ends of her hair.
And all she can do is gasp at the shock of it.
She's never been more humiliated. She's a teacher. She's supposed to be someone the students look up to.
"Hey!" a voice bellows from nearby, and then Finn is looming over the boys, who suddenly look much smaller. "Brandon, Schuester's office. Now."
"I didn't do anything!"
"Go!" Finn shouts, and god, he's so mad. Brandon doesn't budge, though, and Rachel can't believe she's just standing here like this and letting Finn rescue her. "I'm not an idiot, Brandon. I know what you do with those drinks. You've ben pushing hard for a suspension all year. Congratulations. You're not playing on my team on Friday."
"Coach, that's bullshit!"
"Two games," Finn says, and Sonia, bless her heart, dabs at Rachel's eyes with a couple crumpled up tissues she must have pulled from her locker. "Schuester's office. Ms. Berry and I will be there soon."
The boys all go their separate ways, seeming to not want to either argue with Finn, or go down with Brandon.
There's a hand on her shoulder, and Finn looks down at her and asks if she's okay.
"I'm...cold."
"Come on. Thanks, Sonia."
She thinks it's sweet that he remembers all the students' names. She also now believes those boys were going to throw at least one of those drinks on that girl. It absolutely disgusts her that these children can be so terrible to one another.
She follows Finn, though she really has no idea where they're going until they're in his office and he's closing the door. Most of the slush has dripped off, leaving her just sticky and shivering. Finn takes a fluffy white towel from a pile on a shelf near his door, and his fingertips tilt her chin up so he can dab at her skin.
"They started the slushy thing last year," he tells her. He's being so gentle, and she's still in shock or something. "None of the faculty has been able to catch them in the act, and Figgins was...He didn't seem to give a shit."
Rachel takes the towel from him and squeezes it around the ends of her hair. It comes up blue.
"I think I wiped away your makeup. Sorry."
Rachel manages a little laugh and looks down at herself. Her makeup is the least of her worries. For the most part, her jeans are dry. It's her blouse that's completely ruined.
"It's okay," she says. "Can you...I can't wear this."
Finn walks over to a cupboard in his office. She realizes, when he opens it, that he must hang his school clothes when he's in his gym ones, and vice versa. There's also a pair of khakis, a blazer, and a few ties hanging there. He's got two McKinley polos and a couple ball caps there.
So at least her vision is back enough to peer into his personal effects.
"I have...I mean, it'll be huge, but..." He pulls a pale blue button-down off a hanger and shrugs his shoulder. "It's clean, I swear."
She doesn't even think twice before unbuttoning her blouse and pulling the sticky, wet fabric off her arms. He's sort of cute, pretending not to stare as she stands there in just her bra and skinny jeans. He turns around after a second or two. If someone walked in, she'd be mortified. She's not coming on to him, she's just trying to somehow get comfortable after what just happened to her.
His shirt is massive on her, but she rolls up the sleeves and smiles at the blush on his cheeks as she tucks his shirt into her jeans so it at least won't look like she's swimming in it.
"Thank you," she says, and then looks at her reflection in the little mirror he has atop his filing cabinet. "Oh, god. I look awful."
"No you don't," he says quietly as he stands behind her.
"You're only saying that because I'm wearing your shirt."
Okay, she's feeling bold. What does she have to lose at this point? He's seen her covered in slush. It's not as though today could get any worse, right?
And anyway, Finn just grins at her, stuffs his hands into his pockets, and says, "Well, yeah."
They walk to Schuester's office together, and Brandon ends up suspended two games, since Finn keeps his word. The boy also manages to provoke Schuester into mentioning his terrible grades and putting him on academic probation. If he can't maintain a 75% average, he'll be ineligible to play football. Finn doesn't argue against this.
Schuester also places a permanent ban of slushies on school property.
"Thank you," she says to Finn, again, standing outside the office. "I have no idea how I would have handled that alone."
Finn just smiles and squeezes her elbow. "You would have been fine."
She looks up at him and, god, why is he so attractive? "You're sweet."
She's giving him mixed signals, yes, but honestly, she thinks he knows why anyway.
The day finally ends, after what feels like an eternity. It's silly, but she gets the impression that everyone knows she's wearing Finn's shirt, and that either they've heard about why, or they're making up their own theories. Most of the students and faculty have heard about the incident in the hallway, which is embarrassing enough as it is. The ones who haven't, she's really hoping they don't just assume she and Finn are...
Well, it'd be ridiculous for her to be wearing his shirt to work if they were sleeping together, which they aren't. It shouldn't bother her so much, but it does.
There's no clause in her contract or the handbook that says teachers can't fraternize. God, the principal is married to the guidance counselor, and the one of the other math teachers is in a long-term relationship with the shop teacher. It's none of anyone's business what they or anyone else does, she just really hates the idea of anyone knowing about her relationships. When she was younger, she was all about PDA and she wanted to yell it from the rooftops when she was dating boys, but she's changed, over the years, and she likes her private life to be private. Being a teacher, she feels it's extremely important that her students not know more details about her than necessary. She doesn't want them to see her as anything other than the woman who stands at the front of the class and gives them lessons.
She opens a bottle of wine after slipping into leggings and one of her NYU tee shirts. The way she sees it, she can use a couple glasses of wine after the day she had. While she waits for her dinner to cook, she tosses Finn's shirt in with her lights because she's going to get it back to him as soon as possible. She is not one of those women who thinks that if a man lets you wear his shirt once, that means it's yours. He did her a favour letting her wear it, and she's not going to stretch that beyond the limits of what's acceptable.
Her phone rings as she's watching a rerun of How I Met Your Mother, and she answers, even though it's an unknown number that comes up on her phone.
"I didn't get to talk to you today, but Christ, are you all right?"
Rachel smiles and sets her wine glass on the table. "I'm fine, Santana."
"Really? 'Cause one kid last year was like, allergic to corn syrup and had a massive reaction from that shit."
"I promise. I'm embarrassed, but otherwise perfectly okay."
"God, I hate those fucking kids," Santana kind of growls. Rachel hears the woman's husband laughing in the background. Well, she assumes it's him, anyway. "Seriously. I love teaching them and everything, but they're a bunch of little pricks."
"Well, Brandon Ryder certainly is."
"Well, he's dumb as a bag of rocks, and there's no way in hell he'll make a 75 average. Pretty sure his life'll look a whole lot different if he can't use football as a crutch to make up for the fact that he's like, going nowhere in life."
Rachel really, really shouldn't laugh. She shouldn't. Santana is just hilarious, and maybe she's harsh, but she's saying all the things Rachel wishes she were bold enough to say herself.
...Part II...