Fanfic - Nothing to Lose (part eight)
Trying this again. I'm going to forgo italics and links for now. Maybe, maybe, maybe LJ will let this get through. Oh, thank god. It seems to be working now.
---
Okay. That was it. Mercedes’s patience had finally reached its end. She slapped the pages in her hand down onto the floor with a loud smack. “Rachel, this song is terrible! You can’t seriously expect us to sing this.”
Rachel folded her arms and glared down at Mercedes from her spot near the piano. “What’s wrong with it? It’s a perfectly good song to get us back in sync after all the drama of last week.”
Artie pushed his glasses a little higher up the bridge of his nose as he settled his gaze on Rachel. “But if you look at the music, it really doesn’t really work as a group song. You do realize this, right? I mean, I don’t even come in until the third page.” He flipped through the papers and pointed at the measure where he was supposed to come in on.
“That’s because we have to choose songs with fewer male parts, since our lower register is lacking.” Artie and Kurt shot her dirty looks.
“Speaking of guys,” Mercedes frowned and looked around the room, as though Finn was waiting to pop out from behind one of the brown plastic chairs lined up across the wall, “where’s Finn? I haven’t seen him around here at all this week. I mean, I saw him in the hall the other day, but-”
“Does it really matter?” Kurt cut her off. “We all knew he didn’t want to be here anyway. It was obvious Schuester was blackmailing him somehow to get him to stick around. Now that he’s gone, Finn doesn’t have to be tethered to us losers anymore.”
He sighed and rubbed his forehead. “But Artie does have a point, you know.” He was tired of this, all of this, and he knew his tone was giving him away, belying his frustration and boredom, but he was finding it very hard to care at this point. He looked back up at Rachel. “Even with us down a member, every song you’ve chosen since Shuester abandoned us has been essentially nothing but solo work for you. We might have been terrible under Mr. Schue, but at least he gave other people the chance to sing something besides ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ all the time.” He scowled down at the music in his hand. “And if all we are going to be doing is glorified backup, then at least give us some decent harmony.”
Rachel’s face darkened, and she turned sharply to Tina, who shrunk down under her cold glare. “How about you? Don’t you have something to add about my terrible song choices, too?”
“I-I-”
“Rrrgh! Never mind!” Rachel threw up her hands in exasperation. “Then what kind of songs do you suggest we do?”
Mercedes raised an eyebrow in suspicion. “You’re seriously going to listen to anything we have to say?”
“As the new team leader, it is my duty to-”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. How about something R&B? Or maybe hip hop.”
“I could get behind that,” Artie supplied enthusiastically.
Kurt frowned but said nothing. Neither of those genres would be his first choice for music for them to do-he would much prefer they stick to show tunes, Broadway classics and the like-but if yelling rhythmically into a microphone made the rest of the group happy, then he’d deal with it.
“And how would those be any different than what I’ve chosen?”
“Because they don’t suck?”
Rachel rolled her eyes. “We’re not doing rap. Not yet, anyway. We need to figure out how to properly harmonize first. How about Stevie Wonder? I think one of my dads has a book of music by him arranged for the piano lying around somewhere. His music is light enough that it’s relatable, and we can come up with some interesting harmony from the piano chords. Is that reasonable?”
Artie shrugged, and the other kids nodded in agreement. “Sounds like a plan to me.”
“Good.” She sighed and gathered up her things. “Then we’ll meet here again tomorrow after classes let out. I’ll see you all then.”
---
“Hey, dad.”
Kurt pressed his head down harder against his shoulder, trying to keep his cell phone in from falling out of the crook of his neck as he elbowed the door to the refrigerator shut. The milk sloshed within the carton as he made his way to the counter.
“No, no. Everything’s fine. Really. I just wanted to call and let you know I made it home okay.”
The neighbor’s dog was barking again. Kurt glared at the screen door, wishing they’d just shut the thing up indoors for the evening. He’d been terrified of the thing when he was younger, but now the old mutt was little more than a nuisance.
“What time are you planning on getting home tonight?”
He shifted the phone to his other ear and leaned up against the counter, stretching out the kinks that had formed in his neck from holding the phone up with his shoulder. He could feel the cold of the floor seeping into his feet through his socks. He really should have left his shoes on today.
“Yeah, I could probably do up something like that. It’s simple enough.”
The trill of the landline suddenly rang out across the kitchen, causing Kurt to jump a little in surprise. He turned to look at the phone resting innocently on its stand.
“Hey, listen, dad, I’ve got to go. The landline is ringing.” He nodded at his dad’s words and made his way over to the other side of the room to look at the caller ID. Unknown number. Damn. Probably a solicitor. “Yeah, I’ll have it ready when you get home. Talk to you then.” He pressed the little red button to end the call and stared for a moment at the landline phone, his mind racing back to the summer, to the threatening anonymous call. He was so afraid that this would be a repeat of that, and his heart rate quickened at the thought. He could pick up. It was probably a solicitor, someone looking to offer him discounted oil changes or refinancing on the mortgage. Nothing of importance. He could always leave it alone, let it ring until whomever was on the other end was forced to hang up or leave a message. But then he’d be forced to listen to it anyway when he deleted the message. Best to just get this over with.
It was probably nothing.
His hand hovered over the phone for a split second longer before he reached out and grabbed it, connecting the call. “Hello?”
Nothing.
“Hello? Hummel residence.” His heart was racing now, blood rushing to his face with a sudden, almost unbearable heat. This wasn’t real; it couldn’t be happening again.
The quiet sound of an old woman’s voice flowed into his ear. “Hello. I’m with the Children’s Foundation of Allan County. We’re doing a collection in your area on the twenty-fifth. Do you have any used items or clothing you would like to donate?”
He nearly fell to his knees in relief; his hands gripped the edge of the counter so tightly that the skin had gone white from the pressure. His heart was still pounding in his ears, almost drowning out the woman’s voice. “No,” he replied shakily, hoping that his sudden rush of emotion wasn’t showing in his voice. “No, we don’t.”
“All right. Thank you for your time.”
“You’re welcome.” And she was gone. Kurt ended the call and stood there, still gripping the counter like his life depended on it. What was wrong with him? It had only been one call all the way back in June. One phone call and some paint on the side of the house, nothing more. He was being stupid and blowing this way out of proportion. It was nothing.
He placed the phone back on its charger and walked back over to the milk he’d left near the fridge. The heater rumbled softly in the background; the dog had stopped barking outside. He was being stupid. It was one little phone call. There were sure to be others like it. He just needed to keep up his guard and make sure his dad never knew about them. It was the least he could do.
---
It never ceased to amaze him how dedicated the athletes of McKinley High were to their failing sports program. They were the worst in most every athletic category imaginable (if one didn’t count cheerleading, wrestling and track) and yet they refused to give up. Kurt was sure he would have given up long ago.
It was unseasonably cold-at the very least too cold for football practice outside-and yet there they were, practicing out on the field like it was a perfectly nice day. The Cheerios were a given; Ms. Sylvester was always out here, yelling at the red-and-white-covered royalty of the school, but the football team was unexpected. Kurt would have thought Coach Tanaka to chicken out and hold practice in the gym today, making the guys do weight lifting and running indoors, since his choice in pants never appeared to extend below the knee. But the large coach was out there too, zipping alongside the players running around the track. Their dedication was impressive. Stupid and wasted effort on a lost cause, but impressive nonetheless. Kind of like the last dying gasps of the glee club, if he thought about it. He often wondered why he still bothered with the damn club when no one but the five of them were willing to save it. Maybe stubbornness was a common trait among the McKinley High population.
Kurt sighed and laid his chin down on his hand, ignoring the grind of his elbow into his knee with the newly added weight. His breath plumed out in front of him like smoke, and he wondered just how long this practice was actually going to last, or if it was even practice at all. Maybe their being outside today was some sort of punishment. His eyes trailed after Puckerman for a moment as he jogged by. Actually, this being a punishment wouldn’t surprise him in the slightest.
The cold of the metal bleachers was seeping into his legs through his pant. He needed to leave soon, get home. He’d ditched glee practice today for this, and his dad would be expecting him home soon. It wasn’t like they were getting anything done during the glee practices anyway. Everyone kept butting heads, and Rachel was one of the most ineffective leaders imaginable. She wouldn’t take anyone else taking the reigns, though, so stepping up didn’t matter. They were hopeless. There was no chance the club was going to survive. Not since Mr. Schue’s big announcement, not since Finn had quit the club.
His eyes tracked over to the tall teen. He certainly wasn’t the fastest member of the team, but he looked to be holding his own rather nicely. Kurt supposed that was to be expected: he was some sort of team captain, right? The quarterback or something like that. Kurt really didn’t know anything about this stupid, confusing sport.
Finn had stopped showing up to glee practices, and moral was low. Very, very low. It wasn’t as though he was that much better than the rest of them, but having another male voice and someone cute for Rachel to ogle and keep her happy really did help boost their sound. He sighed again and the white cloud of his breath obscured his vision for just a second, blurring his view of the field. This was pathetic, watching Finn like this, especially after how badly the other boy had screwed glee up for the rest of them, but he couldn’t help himself.
Finn wasn’t the most attractive guy at school physically, but there was just something about him that drew Kurt to him again and again, like a moth to a flame. Maybe it was the harmlessness of it all-barring some sort of miracle, Finn could never love him back, no matter how actively Kurt pursued him, and that made him a perfectly good crush. He was also nicer to him than most of the other kids. Kurt frowned briefly at the memory of this morning’s dumpster toss. Finn hadn’t been able to even look him in the eye, let alone deign to keep his bag from getting flung in there with him. Okay, so he’d kind of been a jerk then and when they’d pelted him with pee balloons, and nailed the lawn furniture to the roof and…Finn was nice enough. In his own way. Better than Puckerman, at any rate.
A tiny dot of moisture hitting his cheek brought him out of his reverie. It had started to snow. Just barely, but something was definitely falling from the sky. Kurt huffed out another breath and gave the football field one last look. Finn and the others were still running, running, running. He wondered when they’d finally go inside.
He bent down and gathered his bag from where it lay at his feet. Tiny flakes of snow were flying past his face now, almost like static on an old television set. It was cold. It was getting late, and he’d wasted enough time as it was. He needed to get home.
---
“No, no, no! Stop! What on earth are you guys doing?” Rachel’s voice was climbing higher and higher as rehearsal dragged on, and everyone’s patience had long since worn thin.”
“D-dancing?” supplied Tina. She’d been more in time than either Kurt or Mercedes, but none of them could really keep up with Rachel’s odd instructions thus far.
“But those are not the steps I told you to do. Look, it’s not hard. Just follow my lead.” She started counting loudly to keep the time as she flounced across the stage. She spun around on the ball of her foot and then turned to face them. “See? It’s not that hard.”
“Speak for yourself,” Mercedes muttered under her breath. She looked around the auditorium, her face bunching up into a frown. “Hey guys, has anyone seen Artie?”
“No, but I know he was here today. I saw him in bio.”
Tina shrugged and shook her head. She had no idea where the other boy had gone. “M-maybe his dad…p-picked him up early today.”
“But why would he skip glee club?”
Kurt rolled his eyes. “Why do you think?”
Rachel came stomping over to the group. “What are earth are you guys talking about?”
“Artie. And the fact that he hasn’t shown up to practice yet.”
Rachel rolled her eyes. “We can rehearse without him. We need to get these steps down, and with the way you guys were going earlier, we need all the time we can get.”
“Thanks for your vote of confidence, Rachel,” Kurt snapped back. Yeah, he was kind of a crap dancer, but Rachel had already managed to get under his skin today, and he was done with this. “And I have no idea what the heck you just did out there.” He waved his hand out toward the stage. “In case you hadn’t noticed, your teaching skills are rather lacking.”
She scowled at him before turning her attention to the whole group. “I know that not having Artie today is a distraction, but we need to have the choreography down for this song. We can’t move on to other things until we do.”
Mercedes placed her hands indignantly on her hips. “And what if we don’t think we can do whatever the heck it was you just did?”
“Then pay better attention.” She let out an exasperated sigh. “All right, I’m going to do it again, slower this time, and then you guys try.” She stepped back into place and went through the motions again. Kurt was just as lost as ever. “Okay, Tina, you first.”
They each went, one after the other, trying their best to copy Rachel’s steps. Tina came the closest, but Rachel wasn’t satisfied. After the third full round of failed attempts, her patience was at its end.
“Rachel, we are not doing this,“ Mercedes huffed. “It’s too difficult. I have no idea what you want us to do.”
Rachel let out an exasperated huff of air, and Kurt could have sworn she was going to storm off again, but no, she instead decided to stick around and admonish them for their failure to follow her particular brand of leadership. “You guys, these steps are not hard. I’ve been doing them since preschool.”
Kurt had really had enough of this. He cocked his hip out to the side and fixed her with a hard look. “I’m sorry, did I miss the election for queen? Because I didn’t vote for you.”
Rachel scoffed, and her face began to grow red with repressed rage. “I know what I’m talking about. I won my first dance competition when I was three months old!”
Kurt could see the tiny colored lights on the front wheels of Artie’s wheelchair blinking in the darkness backstage behind Rachel. Suddenly the bespectacled boy was there, followed by one Finn Hudson in what looked like his clothes from football practice, pushing Artie along like it was the most natural thing in the world. Of course now would be the time Finn decided to show his face again. Things had fallen apart enough without him around, and now he could boast about how fractured their little band of misfits was without someone popular to back them up. Kurt’s expression darkened as Finn’s casual, almost apologetic air. They didn’t need him gloating on how much they sucked without the wayward jock.
“This is a closed rehearsal,” he sneered. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. Finn had already abandoned them once. They didn’t need him to do it again.
“Look, I owe you guys an apology. I never should have quit.” He looked as though he needed to pace to ease off some of the tension that had built up inside him but couldn’t get his legs to work right. “I don’t want to be the guy who just drives around throwing eggs at people,” he admitted in a sudden rush of words.
“That was you?”
“You and your friends threw pee balloons at me,” Kurt spat. If Finn really was going to apologize, he might as well make it count.
“I know.”
“You nailed all my lawn furniture to my roof.” And nearly gave my dad a heart attack when he realized I’d been lying to him about the bullying.
“I wasn’t actually there for that, but I’m really sorry. Look, that isn’t who I am, and I’m tired of it.” They all took pause at that. Finn really wasn’t all that good of a liar-heck, his cover stories for missing homework assignments usually involved break-ins and covert military operations-his face was an open book of emotion. “This is what I want to be doing. With you guys.” They all shared wary glances with one another. Artie nodded silently at Tina, who softened at the motion. Rachel’s resolve was melting.
Finn just kept going, almost completely oblivious to the reactions of the group in front of him. “I used to think that this was, like, the lamest thing on earth, and maybe it is, but we’re all here for the same reason: because we want to be good at something.” And it was the truth, wasn’t it? Schuester had seen something in them, at least for a little while, and there was potential all throughout their group that would have never been realized without something like this stupid, failing club. And if they were going down anyway, why not have fun while they were at it?
“Artie, you play the guitar, right? Do you think you could recruit the jazz band?”
Artie nodded and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Kurt noticed that he had the habit of doing that when he wasn’t sure of what he was about to say. “I do have pull there.”
Finn seemed to grow even more excited. He turned to Mercedes. “Mercedes. We need new costumes, and they have got to be cool. Do you think you can do that?”
Mercedes smirked and gestured at her outfit. “Damn, don’t you see what I’ve got on?” Kurt cast her a disparaging look but said nothing. Mercedes definitely had an eye for color, but sometimes her taste left something to be desired. He did have to admit, however, that he liked this new, forceful, leadership side of Finn. He watched the other boy’s face as he told Rachel she was in charge of choreography, and his chest seized up when the tall boy turned to his left towards him. Finn was going to give him his assignment. He was going to look Kurt directly in the eye and-
“Tina. What are you good at?” Oh.
“I-uh-” She was choking on her words, but Finn simply nodded, his face still split in a wide, disarming smile.
“We’ll figure something out for you.”
Kurt opened his mouth to ask what he was supposed to do, but Mercedes beat him to it. “And, uh, what are you bringing to the table, Justin Timberlake?”
Finn’s smile never faltered, his teeth bright against the skin of his face, and Kurt nearly forgot his irritation at being left out. God, but Finn had a nice smile.
“I’ve got the music.”
---
Thursday. No glee rehearsal today. Kurt quickly snapped his locker shut and shouldered his bag. He needed to find Mercedes, and he needed to find her now.
He ran for the main entrance, hoping to catch her before her dad came to pick her up. His breathing was heavy as he pushed his way through the double doors, but she was still there, seated on one of the benches beside the walk. There was a large, open book resting in her lap-homework, probably.
“Hey, Mercedes.” She didn’t look up. Crap. She probably had headphones in.
He jogged over to where she sat and sidled up behind the girl to peer over her shoulder. Homework. He’d been right. He lightly placed his hand on her shoulder, and she jumped a little in surprise. She drew in a sharp intake of breath as she turned around, but she deflated once she saw his face.
“Oh my god, Kurt,” she exhaled as she pulled out her earbuds. “You scared me.” She scooted over to the side and patted the empty expanse of bench beside her. “What’s up, boy?”
He gently set himself down, placing his bag on his lap. “I wanted to talk to you about the costumes.”
“Right.” She nodded and closed the book in her lap. “So what did you want to know?”
“You wanted jeans, black Converse and a red shirt, right?”
“Yup. But it’s got to be that really bright red that I showed you guys yesterday.”
“So we can have any style we want, as long as it fits those parameters.” He winced a little at the thought of Artie’s suspenders, Tina’s odd belts and chains, Rachel’s…everything. At least the requirement of jeans meant that the petite girl wouldn’t show up for their dress rehearsal tomorrow looking like she’d just raided a retirement home.
She nodded again, shooting him a harsh stare that went right through to the core. “Yeah. Is there something wrong with that?”
“No. It’s fine.” This wasn’t worth fighting over. So the costumes wouldn’t really be much of costumes or uniforms, but rather an assortment of outfits that sort of matched. Whatever. They weren’t ever going to make it to any competitions anyway, so it shouldn’t matter that they looked unprofessional or less put-together than any other group. They’d never be seeing any other groups. He sighed and slumped a little over his bag. “Do you think this thing, Finn’s whole plan, is going to work, or even come together at all?”
Mercedes leveled her gaze out over the parking lot. A red car pulled up to the curb and a pair of girls ran up to climb inside, their backpacks swinging along behind them. She turned back to him, a light smile gracing her face. “I don’t know. But I think it’s definitely worth a shot. We sounded pretty good in practice yesterday, don’t you think?”
He smiled back and leaned playfully into her side. “I think you’re right. What have we got to lose?”
---
Dress rehearsal. For a performance they’d never have in front of an audience they’d never see.
And Kurt had never felt so good in his entire life.
They sounded good. Really good. Not perfect or as polished as they could be, but good. And the music was surprisingly fun to sing, even if his part was only backup. The choreography was simple, but it worked (and thankfully, there was absolutely no lifting involved). Rachel and Finn worked oddly well at the forefront, the large difference in their heights drawing attention to them almost as much as their blending voices on the lead vocals.
As the last chord faded out and they dropped their heads at the close, the sound of clapping rang out through the auditorium. It was only one person, but they hadn’t expected any audience of any sort, let alone a receptive one. They raised their heads one by one to see who it was.
Mr. Schuester was walking down the center aisle of the auditorium, his face lit up in a smile. It was strange seeing him. This was his last day at the school, and they’d all assumed that he would avoid the glee club like the plague. Everyone else did.
“Good guys. It’s a nine. We need a ten. Rachel, you need to hit the ones and the fives. Finn, I think if you worked on it, you could hit a high B.”
They couldn’t believe their ears. Why would he be giving them advice on their performance? Unless…
“So does this mean you’re staying?”
“It would kill me to see you win nationals without me.”
---
Part one
Part seven
Part nine
---
Okay. That was it. Mercedes’s patience had finally reached its end. She slapped the pages in her hand down onto the floor with a loud smack. “Rachel, this song is terrible! You can’t seriously expect us to sing this.”
Rachel folded her arms and glared down at Mercedes from her spot near the piano. “What’s wrong with it? It’s a perfectly good song to get us back in sync after all the drama of last week.”
Artie pushed his glasses a little higher up the bridge of his nose as he settled his gaze on Rachel. “But if you look at the music, it really doesn’t really work as a group song. You do realize this, right? I mean, I don’t even come in until the third page.” He flipped through the papers and pointed at the measure where he was supposed to come in on.
“That’s because we have to choose songs with fewer male parts, since our lower register is lacking.” Artie and Kurt shot her dirty looks.
“Speaking of guys,” Mercedes frowned and looked around the room, as though Finn was waiting to pop out from behind one of the brown plastic chairs lined up across the wall, “where’s Finn? I haven’t seen him around here at all this week. I mean, I saw him in the hall the other day, but-”
“Does it really matter?” Kurt cut her off. “We all knew he didn’t want to be here anyway. It was obvious Schuester was blackmailing him somehow to get him to stick around. Now that he’s gone, Finn doesn’t have to be tethered to us losers anymore.”
He sighed and rubbed his forehead. “But Artie does have a point, you know.” He was tired of this, all of this, and he knew his tone was giving him away, belying his frustration and boredom, but he was finding it very hard to care at this point. He looked back up at Rachel. “Even with us down a member, every song you’ve chosen since Shuester abandoned us has been essentially nothing but solo work for you. We might have been terrible under Mr. Schue, but at least he gave other people the chance to sing something besides ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ all the time.” He scowled down at the music in his hand. “And if all we are going to be doing is glorified backup, then at least give us some decent harmony.”
Rachel’s face darkened, and she turned sharply to Tina, who shrunk down under her cold glare. “How about you? Don’t you have something to add about my terrible song choices, too?”
“I-I-”
“Rrrgh! Never mind!” Rachel threw up her hands in exasperation. “Then what kind of songs do you suggest we do?”
Mercedes raised an eyebrow in suspicion. “You’re seriously going to listen to anything we have to say?”
“As the new team leader, it is my duty to-”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. How about something R&B? Or maybe hip hop.”
“I could get behind that,” Artie supplied enthusiastically.
Kurt frowned but said nothing. Neither of those genres would be his first choice for music for them to do-he would much prefer they stick to show tunes, Broadway classics and the like-but if yelling rhythmically into a microphone made the rest of the group happy, then he’d deal with it.
“And how would those be any different than what I’ve chosen?”
“Because they don’t suck?”
Rachel rolled her eyes. “We’re not doing rap. Not yet, anyway. We need to figure out how to properly harmonize first. How about Stevie Wonder? I think one of my dads has a book of music by him arranged for the piano lying around somewhere. His music is light enough that it’s relatable, and we can come up with some interesting harmony from the piano chords. Is that reasonable?”
Artie shrugged, and the other kids nodded in agreement. “Sounds like a plan to me.”
“Good.” She sighed and gathered up her things. “Then we’ll meet here again tomorrow after classes let out. I’ll see you all then.”
---
“Hey, dad.”
Kurt pressed his head down harder against his shoulder, trying to keep his cell phone in from falling out of the crook of his neck as he elbowed the door to the refrigerator shut. The milk sloshed within the carton as he made his way to the counter.
“No, no. Everything’s fine. Really. I just wanted to call and let you know I made it home okay.”
The neighbor’s dog was barking again. Kurt glared at the screen door, wishing they’d just shut the thing up indoors for the evening. He’d been terrified of the thing when he was younger, but now the old mutt was little more than a nuisance.
“What time are you planning on getting home tonight?”
He shifted the phone to his other ear and leaned up against the counter, stretching out the kinks that had formed in his neck from holding the phone up with his shoulder. He could feel the cold of the floor seeping into his feet through his socks. He really should have left his shoes on today.
“Yeah, I could probably do up something like that. It’s simple enough.”
The trill of the landline suddenly rang out across the kitchen, causing Kurt to jump a little in surprise. He turned to look at the phone resting innocently on its stand.
“Hey, listen, dad, I’ve got to go. The landline is ringing.” He nodded at his dad’s words and made his way over to the other side of the room to look at the caller ID. Unknown number. Damn. Probably a solicitor. “Yeah, I’ll have it ready when you get home. Talk to you then.” He pressed the little red button to end the call and stared for a moment at the landline phone, his mind racing back to the summer, to the threatening anonymous call. He was so afraid that this would be a repeat of that, and his heart rate quickened at the thought. He could pick up. It was probably a solicitor, someone looking to offer him discounted oil changes or refinancing on the mortgage. Nothing of importance. He could always leave it alone, let it ring until whomever was on the other end was forced to hang up or leave a message. But then he’d be forced to listen to it anyway when he deleted the message. Best to just get this over with.
It was probably nothing.
His hand hovered over the phone for a split second longer before he reached out and grabbed it, connecting the call. “Hello?”
Nothing.
“Hello? Hummel residence.” His heart was racing now, blood rushing to his face with a sudden, almost unbearable heat. This wasn’t real; it couldn’t be happening again.
The quiet sound of an old woman’s voice flowed into his ear. “Hello. I’m with the Children’s Foundation of Allan County. We’re doing a collection in your area on the twenty-fifth. Do you have any used items or clothing you would like to donate?”
He nearly fell to his knees in relief; his hands gripped the edge of the counter so tightly that the skin had gone white from the pressure. His heart was still pounding in his ears, almost drowning out the woman’s voice. “No,” he replied shakily, hoping that his sudden rush of emotion wasn’t showing in his voice. “No, we don’t.”
“All right. Thank you for your time.”
“You’re welcome.” And she was gone. Kurt ended the call and stood there, still gripping the counter like his life depended on it. What was wrong with him? It had only been one call all the way back in June. One phone call and some paint on the side of the house, nothing more. He was being stupid and blowing this way out of proportion. It was nothing.
He placed the phone back on its charger and walked back over to the milk he’d left near the fridge. The heater rumbled softly in the background; the dog had stopped barking outside. He was being stupid. It was one little phone call. There were sure to be others like it. He just needed to keep up his guard and make sure his dad never knew about them. It was the least he could do.
---
It never ceased to amaze him how dedicated the athletes of McKinley High were to their failing sports program. They were the worst in most every athletic category imaginable (if one didn’t count cheerleading, wrestling and track) and yet they refused to give up. Kurt was sure he would have given up long ago.
It was unseasonably cold-at the very least too cold for football practice outside-and yet there they were, practicing out on the field like it was a perfectly nice day. The Cheerios were a given; Ms. Sylvester was always out here, yelling at the red-and-white-covered royalty of the school, but the football team was unexpected. Kurt would have thought Coach Tanaka to chicken out and hold practice in the gym today, making the guys do weight lifting and running indoors, since his choice in pants never appeared to extend below the knee. But the large coach was out there too, zipping alongside the players running around the track. Their dedication was impressive. Stupid and wasted effort on a lost cause, but impressive nonetheless. Kind of like the last dying gasps of the glee club, if he thought about it. He often wondered why he still bothered with the damn club when no one but the five of them were willing to save it. Maybe stubbornness was a common trait among the McKinley High population.
Kurt sighed and laid his chin down on his hand, ignoring the grind of his elbow into his knee with the newly added weight. His breath plumed out in front of him like smoke, and he wondered just how long this practice was actually going to last, or if it was even practice at all. Maybe their being outside today was some sort of punishment. His eyes trailed after Puckerman for a moment as he jogged by. Actually, this being a punishment wouldn’t surprise him in the slightest.
The cold of the metal bleachers was seeping into his legs through his pant. He needed to leave soon, get home. He’d ditched glee practice today for this, and his dad would be expecting him home soon. It wasn’t like they were getting anything done during the glee practices anyway. Everyone kept butting heads, and Rachel was one of the most ineffective leaders imaginable. She wouldn’t take anyone else taking the reigns, though, so stepping up didn’t matter. They were hopeless. There was no chance the club was going to survive. Not since Mr. Schue’s big announcement, not since Finn had quit the club.
His eyes tracked over to the tall teen. He certainly wasn’t the fastest member of the team, but he looked to be holding his own rather nicely. Kurt supposed that was to be expected: he was some sort of team captain, right? The quarterback or something like that. Kurt really didn’t know anything about this stupid, confusing sport.
Finn had stopped showing up to glee practices, and moral was low. Very, very low. It wasn’t as though he was that much better than the rest of them, but having another male voice and someone cute for Rachel to ogle and keep her happy really did help boost their sound. He sighed again and the white cloud of his breath obscured his vision for just a second, blurring his view of the field. This was pathetic, watching Finn like this, especially after how badly the other boy had screwed glee up for the rest of them, but he couldn’t help himself.
Finn wasn’t the most attractive guy at school physically, but there was just something about him that drew Kurt to him again and again, like a moth to a flame. Maybe it was the harmlessness of it all-barring some sort of miracle, Finn could never love him back, no matter how actively Kurt pursued him, and that made him a perfectly good crush. He was also nicer to him than most of the other kids. Kurt frowned briefly at the memory of this morning’s dumpster toss. Finn hadn’t been able to even look him in the eye, let alone deign to keep his bag from getting flung in there with him. Okay, so he’d kind of been a jerk then and when they’d pelted him with pee balloons, and nailed the lawn furniture to the roof and…Finn was nice enough. In his own way. Better than Puckerman, at any rate.
A tiny dot of moisture hitting his cheek brought him out of his reverie. It had started to snow. Just barely, but something was definitely falling from the sky. Kurt huffed out another breath and gave the football field one last look. Finn and the others were still running, running, running. He wondered when they’d finally go inside.
He bent down and gathered his bag from where it lay at his feet. Tiny flakes of snow were flying past his face now, almost like static on an old television set. It was cold. It was getting late, and he’d wasted enough time as it was. He needed to get home.
---
“No, no, no! Stop! What on earth are you guys doing?” Rachel’s voice was climbing higher and higher as rehearsal dragged on, and everyone’s patience had long since worn thin.”
“D-dancing?” supplied Tina. She’d been more in time than either Kurt or Mercedes, but none of them could really keep up with Rachel’s odd instructions thus far.
“But those are not the steps I told you to do. Look, it’s not hard. Just follow my lead.” She started counting loudly to keep the time as she flounced across the stage. She spun around on the ball of her foot and then turned to face them. “See? It’s not that hard.”
“Speak for yourself,” Mercedes muttered under her breath. She looked around the auditorium, her face bunching up into a frown. “Hey guys, has anyone seen Artie?”
“No, but I know he was here today. I saw him in bio.”
Tina shrugged and shook her head. She had no idea where the other boy had gone. “M-maybe his dad…p-picked him up early today.”
“But why would he skip glee club?”
Kurt rolled his eyes. “Why do you think?”
Rachel came stomping over to the group. “What are earth are you guys talking about?”
“Artie. And the fact that he hasn’t shown up to practice yet.”
Rachel rolled her eyes. “We can rehearse without him. We need to get these steps down, and with the way you guys were going earlier, we need all the time we can get.”
“Thanks for your vote of confidence, Rachel,” Kurt snapped back. Yeah, he was kind of a crap dancer, but Rachel had already managed to get under his skin today, and he was done with this. “And I have no idea what the heck you just did out there.” He waved his hand out toward the stage. “In case you hadn’t noticed, your teaching skills are rather lacking.”
She scowled at him before turning her attention to the whole group. “I know that not having Artie today is a distraction, but we need to have the choreography down for this song. We can’t move on to other things until we do.”
Mercedes placed her hands indignantly on her hips. “And what if we don’t think we can do whatever the heck it was you just did?”
“Then pay better attention.” She let out an exasperated sigh. “All right, I’m going to do it again, slower this time, and then you guys try.” She stepped back into place and went through the motions again. Kurt was just as lost as ever. “Okay, Tina, you first.”
They each went, one after the other, trying their best to copy Rachel’s steps. Tina came the closest, but Rachel wasn’t satisfied. After the third full round of failed attempts, her patience was at its end.
“Rachel, we are not doing this,“ Mercedes huffed. “It’s too difficult. I have no idea what you want us to do.”
Rachel let out an exasperated huff of air, and Kurt could have sworn she was going to storm off again, but no, she instead decided to stick around and admonish them for their failure to follow her particular brand of leadership. “You guys, these steps are not hard. I’ve been doing them since preschool.”
Kurt had really had enough of this. He cocked his hip out to the side and fixed her with a hard look. “I’m sorry, did I miss the election for queen? Because I didn’t vote for you.”
Rachel scoffed, and her face began to grow red with repressed rage. “I know what I’m talking about. I won my first dance competition when I was three months old!”
Kurt could see the tiny colored lights on the front wheels of Artie’s wheelchair blinking in the darkness backstage behind Rachel. Suddenly the bespectacled boy was there, followed by one Finn Hudson in what looked like his clothes from football practice, pushing Artie along like it was the most natural thing in the world. Of course now would be the time Finn decided to show his face again. Things had fallen apart enough without him around, and now he could boast about how fractured their little band of misfits was without someone popular to back them up. Kurt’s expression darkened as Finn’s casual, almost apologetic air. They didn’t need him gloating on how much they sucked without the wayward jock.
“This is a closed rehearsal,” he sneered. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. Finn had already abandoned them once. They didn’t need him to do it again.
“Look, I owe you guys an apology. I never should have quit.” He looked as though he needed to pace to ease off some of the tension that had built up inside him but couldn’t get his legs to work right. “I don’t want to be the guy who just drives around throwing eggs at people,” he admitted in a sudden rush of words.
“That was you?”
“You and your friends threw pee balloons at me,” Kurt spat. If Finn really was going to apologize, he might as well make it count.
“I know.”
“You nailed all my lawn furniture to my roof.” And nearly gave my dad a heart attack when he realized I’d been lying to him about the bullying.
“I wasn’t actually there for that, but I’m really sorry. Look, that isn’t who I am, and I’m tired of it.” They all took pause at that. Finn really wasn’t all that good of a liar-heck, his cover stories for missing homework assignments usually involved break-ins and covert military operations-his face was an open book of emotion. “This is what I want to be doing. With you guys.” They all shared wary glances with one another. Artie nodded silently at Tina, who softened at the motion. Rachel’s resolve was melting.
Finn just kept going, almost completely oblivious to the reactions of the group in front of him. “I used to think that this was, like, the lamest thing on earth, and maybe it is, but we’re all here for the same reason: because we want to be good at something.” And it was the truth, wasn’t it? Schuester had seen something in them, at least for a little while, and there was potential all throughout their group that would have never been realized without something like this stupid, failing club. And if they were going down anyway, why not have fun while they were at it?
“Artie, you play the guitar, right? Do you think you could recruit the jazz band?”
Artie nodded and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Kurt noticed that he had the habit of doing that when he wasn’t sure of what he was about to say. “I do have pull there.”
Finn seemed to grow even more excited. He turned to Mercedes. “Mercedes. We need new costumes, and they have got to be cool. Do you think you can do that?”
Mercedes smirked and gestured at her outfit. “Damn, don’t you see what I’ve got on?” Kurt cast her a disparaging look but said nothing. Mercedes definitely had an eye for color, but sometimes her taste left something to be desired. He did have to admit, however, that he liked this new, forceful, leadership side of Finn. He watched the other boy’s face as he told Rachel she was in charge of choreography, and his chest seized up when the tall boy turned to his left towards him. Finn was going to give him his assignment. He was going to look Kurt directly in the eye and-
“Tina. What are you good at?” Oh.
“I-uh-” She was choking on her words, but Finn simply nodded, his face still split in a wide, disarming smile.
“We’ll figure something out for you.”
Kurt opened his mouth to ask what he was supposed to do, but Mercedes beat him to it. “And, uh, what are you bringing to the table, Justin Timberlake?”
Finn’s smile never faltered, his teeth bright against the skin of his face, and Kurt nearly forgot his irritation at being left out. God, but Finn had a nice smile.
“I’ve got the music.”
---
Thursday. No glee rehearsal today. Kurt quickly snapped his locker shut and shouldered his bag. He needed to find Mercedes, and he needed to find her now.
He ran for the main entrance, hoping to catch her before her dad came to pick her up. His breathing was heavy as he pushed his way through the double doors, but she was still there, seated on one of the benches beside the walk. There was a large, open book resting in her lap-homework, probably.
“Hey, Mercedes.” She didn’t look up. Crap. She probably had headphones in.
He jogged over to where she sat and sidled up behind the girl to peer over her shoulder. Homework. He’d been right. He lightly placed his hand on her shoulder, and she jumped a little in surprise. She drew in a sharp intake of breath as she turned around, but she deflated once she saw his face.
“Oh my god, Kurt,” she exhaled as she pulled out her earbuds. “You scared me.” She scooted over to the side and patted the empty expanse of bench beside her. “What’s up, boy?”
He gently set himself down, placing his bag on his lap. “I wanted to talk to you about the costumes.”
“Right.” She nodded and closed the book in her lap. “So what did you want to know?”
“You wanted jeans, black Converse and a red shirt, right?”
“Yup. But it’s got to be that really bright red that I showed you guys yesterday.”
“So we can have any style we want, as long as it fits those parameters.” He winced a little at the thought of Artie’s suspenders, Tina’s odd belts and chains, Rachel’s…everything. At least the requirement of jeans meant that the petite girl wouldn’t show up for their dress rehearsal tomorrow looking like she’d just raided a retirement home.
She nodded again, shooting him a harsh stare that went right through to the core. “Yeah. Is there something wrong with that?”
“No. It’s fine.” This wasn’t worth fighting over. So the costumes wouldn’t really be much of costumes or uniforms, but rather an assortment of outfits that sort of matched. Whatever. They weren’t ever going to make it to any competitions anyway, so it shouldn’t matter that they looked unprofessional or less put-together than any other group. They’d never be seeing any other groups. He sighed and slumped a little over his bag. “Do you think this thing, Finn’s whole plan, is going to work, or even come together at all?”
Mercedes leveled her gaze out over the parking lot. A red car pulled up to the curb and a pair of girls ran up to climb inside, their backpacks swinging along behind them. She turned back to him, a light smile gracing her face. “I don’t know. But I think it’s definitely worth a shot. We sounded pretty good in practice yesterday, don’t you think?”
He smiled back and leaned playfully into her side. “I think you’re right. What have we got to lose?”
---
Dress rehearsal. For a performance they’d never have in front of an audience they’d never see.
And Kurt had never felt so good in his entire life.
They sounded good. Really good. Not perfect or as polished as they could be, but good. And the music was surprisingly fun to sing, even if his part was only backup. The choreography was simple, but it worked (and thankfully, there was absolutely no lifting involved). Rachel and Finn worked oddly well at the forefront, the large difference in their heights drawing attention to them almost as much as their blending voices on the lead vocals.
As the last chord faded out and they dropped their heads at the close, the sound of clapping rang out through the auditorium. It was only one person, but they hadn’t expected any audience of any sort, let alone a receptive one. They raised their heads one by one to see who it was.
Mr. Schuester was walking down the center aisle of the auditorium, his face lit up in a smile. It was strange seeing him. This was his last day at the school, and they’d all assumed that he would avoid the glee club like the plague. Everyone else did.
“Good guys. It’s a nine. We need a ten. Rachel, you need to hit the ones and the fives. Finn, I think if you worked on it, you could hit a high B.”
They couldn’t believe their ears. Why would he be giving them advice on their performance? Unless…
“So does this mean you’re staying?”
“It would kill me to see you win nationals without me.”
---
Part one
Part seven
Part nine