(no subject)
Part Three
Puck was sprawled on the couch in the living room. He could hear his mother humming and running water and making cooking noises in the kitchen. His little sister was in the living room with him, sitting pretzel style on the plush recliner and giggling every now and then at the antics of Hannah Montana. Puck stared at the television and considered changing the channel; decided finding a slightly less crappy Saturday morning rerun to watch wouldn't be worth one of his sister's tantrums.
As Hannah and friends went to commercial his phone rang. He dived for it, snatched it up from the coffee table and checked the glowing screen. He barely managed to suppress a groan when he saw that it was Finn.
Son of a bitch. He had been hoping for a call from one of the burger joints or restaurants he had applied to, maybe even a call from Quinn. Quinn...he wasn't even sure what he wanted to hear the girl say. That she had had a change of heart? That she wanted him to help her out and to be a part of the baby's life after all? Or possibly that she had suffered from temporary amnesia concerning the whole sex thing and Finn actually was the father?
"What’s up, man?”
“Hey Puck. It’s Finn.”
No shit. “Um...yeah?”
“Do you want to hang out? We can catch that new spy movie or something.”
His baby sister was suddenly aiming a fierce glare his way, apparently he was being too loud. He glared back but stood and moved out to the porch, shut the front door firmly behind him before she could work up a whine.
“Sorry, dude. No can do today.” He rejected the invitation without hesitation. There were so many good reasons not to go to a movie with Finn. Reasons like he had to save and scrape together as much money as possible for Quinn and the baby. Like he was the actual father of Quinn’s kid-to-be and both he and the Cheerio knew it and hadn’t told the quarterback, weren’t planning on telling him anytime soon.
“Oh.” Finn sounded disappointed and it made Puck tense up, just a little bit. “I just thought...” he trailed off and was quiet for a minute. “It doesn’t have to be a movie, man.” He got quiet again and Puck realized that Finn’s phone call wasn’t about his best friend being bored or about a desire to waste a Saturday watching a movie featuring some very hot chicks and lots of explosions. No, Finn was calling because he wanted to talk to Puck. And that made sense. Because Finn had dropped the pregnant Quinn bombshell on him a little over three weeks ago now and Puck hadn’t so much as grunted an encouraging word about the situation in his friend’s direction.
“Okay,” he agreed and even before the word was out of his mouth the tension he was feeling eased. “Yeah, dude. How about we meet at Breadsticks for lunch?”
-----
The pizza at Breadsticks was awesome. Puck had ordered three slices. He picked up one of the huge slices and took a healthy sized bite as he waited for Finn to stop fiddling with his large glass of soda and straw and say something already.
“So,” Finn finally ventured just as Puck finished off his first slice. “Did you see Kurt’s locker yesterday? That was pretty messed up.”
Puck blinked. Was his best friend seriously trying to have a conversation about Kurt Hummel with him? He reached for his own glass and took a drink, reasoned that Finn was probably nervous. The guy was likely trying to break the silence with a random topic, was maybe trying to work up to discussing the Quinn drama. Puck shrugged and placed his glass back on the table. “No,” he said shortly. And then realizing he wasn’t exactly looking forward to the Quinn conversation asked, “Did someone write on it again or something?” That was no big surprise. He knew the more cruel jocks sometimes scrawled words like QUEER or FAG or worse across the face of Hummel’s locker.
Finn shook his head. “No. It was like...bent. And his lock was all scratched up.”
Puck just nodded. Because honestly, what was he supposed to say to that? He had played a big part in bullying Hummel before joining glee club and he was only holding back snide comments now because he could clearly remember that dick from Thursday shoving the kid down the bleachers. Shoving the kid down the bleachers. The memory made him feel sort of sick. He had certainly never been friendly with the little gay and had only recently started being (mostly) civil to him but there was a line when it came to that shit.
Their waitress abruptly appeared. She topped off their drinks before vanishing again and things got quiet while Finn tore into his pasta.
“I’ve been trying to get a job,” Puck admitted after swallowing his last bite of pizza. If Finn wasn’t going to use this time to bitch and moan about his teenage father crisis like he was supposed to than Puck would use it to covertly bitch and moan about his own teenage father crisis.
Finn let go of his fork and leaned back in his seat. He seemed surprised. “A...job? Don't you already kind of have one? What happened to cleaning pools?"
Puck shrugged. "Business is crap when it isn't warm outside. I need something else." He was also kind of tired of dealing with the cougars and their drama, not that he would ever admit that to Finn. Dealing with desperate questions like 'how old do I look, Puck?' or being forced to jump out of windows with his shirt still only half on because a husband had arrived home unexpectedly early got old fast.
Finn frowned, then nodded. "Yeah. I should probably start looking for something, too. Quinn has already mentioned it and..." He trailed off, combed large fingers through his hair. "Having a baby is probably going to cost a lot of money, right? Like a lot."
Puck didn't reply.
"It sucks," continued Finn. "I mean, look at Kurt."
Puzzled, Puck squinted at his friend. How exactly were they back to talking about the little gay?
"His dad owns that tire and lube place...he doesn't have to worry about getting a job. It's too bad we don't know anybody who owns a business or something. That makes it so much easier, dude."
Slowly, Puck reached for his Dr. Pepper again. "Yeah," he agreed before moving in to take a drink. "Too bad."
-----
Puck knew that his idea wasn't a great idea. That it was in fact a pretty bad idea. But that didn't really matter because he had Quinn to think about. No, he had the baby Quinn was now carrying to think about. And as hard as it was to swallow that baby was way more important than any of his own feelings, was more important than even the hit his pride might take if his idea didn't work out.
He confronted Kurt after school on Monday. The kicker was with the goth chick (Tina, if he was remembering right) when Puck spotted him. The girl had the door to her locker open and was rifling through it while Kurt hovered near her shoulder looking bored.
"I don't know," she was saying as Puck approached the pair. "I liked her older songs a lot but-"
"Hummel," broke in Puck and both Tina and Kurt turned to look at him. Tina with her mouth slightly open in what was probably surprise and Kurt with a frown. "I need to talk to you."
Tina's mouth snapped shut and she spun to stare at her friend.
"About what?" asked the kicker after what seemed like a long and awkward moment to Puck.
"Alone," he clarified. He shot a look at the still flummoxed looking Tina.
The girl hesitated, slammed her locker door closed and shrugged her backpack on. "Uh. I don't..." She went quiet and stared at Kurt.
"You go ahead," he said and handed her a ring of keys. "Let yourself in. I'll catch up."
Tina gave Puck a lingering look he couldn't read before hurrying away. Her boots made a heavy smack smack noise as she made the brief trek down the hallway. She pushed open the double doors that led out to the student parking lot and vanished from sight.
"What is it?" asked Kurt as soon as she was gone. "What do you want?"
Puck opened his mouth, then found he couldn't bring himself to speak and closed it again. He ran a hand over his mohawk and cleared his throat.
You're freaking Puck, he reminded himself. You're a first class badass with amazing guns. You're doing this for the baby and...if the kid laughs in your face you can always go back to tossing him in the dumpster.
"Okay, Hummel," he managed. "I know this is going to sound pretty crazy but just hear me out." He paused and took in the little gay's reaction; the teenager had his arms crossed over his chest and his lips pursed tight like he was trying to avoid saying something.
"Your dad," Puck went on. And that got the kicker's attention. He straightened his back and glared at Puck. "He owns a tire and lube place, right?"
Kurt eyed him for a moment before giving a short, sharp nod. "Yes."
Puck went on before the kicker could say anything else, before he could ask a question. "And he needs help there, right? I heard you mention that he needed someone at lunch last week and I've been looking for something part time-"
"You're kidding," spat Kurt, cutting him off and he certainly wasn't laughing in Puck's face. He looked fucking livid. "Tell me you're kidding, Puck. Tell me that you are not seriously asking me to get you a job at my dad's garage."
Puck had his response on the tip of his tongue when one of the doors that led to the parking lot came open with a loud bang and Tina charged through, breathing hard and looking panicked. "K-Kurt!" she shouted as soon as she spotted them. But before she could get anything else out Dave Karofsky loomed up behind her, holding the same door the girl had entered through open with a gigantic hand. His face was flushed and his ears were bright red. He looked excited.
Immediately, Puck tensed and shot hurried looks between Tina and Karofsky. Because if his douche of a teammate was actually chasing the girl down he was dead. Bullying a chick was up there with pushing someone down a bunch of bleachers and was definitely on Puck's list of shit that crossed the line.
It took him a few seconds to realize that Karofsky was just hovering in the doorway and that Tina hadn't continued to sprint away from him. Instead, she was hurrying over to Kurt and linking an arm with the soprano and talking way too fast to be normal.
"...and so I shouted and the guy went running. I guess Karofsky...er... I guess Dave h-heard me or maybe he heard the glass smashing and he saw the guy run away, too. I'm so sorry, Kurt. It looks terrible. Do you think we should call the police because you have w-witnesses and maybe..." She went on as she tugged the kicker down the hallway and toward the doors with her.
Feeling more than a little confused Puck followed them. Still gripping the door a stunned looking Karofsky stepped aside to let the two shorter teenagers through. He let out a bark of a laugh that sounded more surprised than filled with humor when Puck reached the exit.
"Dude," he started and fell in next to Puck as they all four started across the parking lot. "I'm no fan of the Fairy's or anything but that shit was messed up!" The large teenager let out another of those strange laughs and shook his head.
"What shit, exactly?" asked Puck.
"Didn't you hear the goth chick, man? The guy had a fucking bat and everything."
Puck was about to ask for clarification when they all four came to a sudden stop next to Kurt's Lincoln Navigator.
Puck really liked the Navigator. Even the jocks fond of damaging Hummel's property (Karofsky to name one) thought the Navigator was a sweet ride and left it the hell alone.
Or had left it alone. Past tense because someone had viciously keyed the entire left side of the vehicle (nonsensical, crisscrossing lines now flawed the sleek paint job) and had shattered the left side view mirror.
Tina said, "I was almost to y-your truck and then I saw this guy just gouging into the paint with a key! I shouted at him to stop -- maybe I shouldn't have because the guy was obviously crazy and it turns out he had a bat -- and Karofsky came over and the guy turned around and smashed your mirror! Then he ran off. I'm so sorry, Kurt. Maybe...maybe if I hadn't-"
"Don't," ordered Kurt. His arm was still linked with the girl's. "It is not your fault my mirror got smashed, Tina. If the guy had a bat he was obviously planning to do much worse than this."
Tina stepped away and started to walk a slow circle around the truck. Karofsky followed her example, mumbling under his breath. The large jock didn't appear to be bothered by or even aware of the fact that he was surrounded by three members of the glee club. He seemed mesmerized by the damage to the Navigator.
Puck found himself next to Kurt. "This...this really sucks," he said. When the soprano said nothing to that he went on. "I'll make you a deal," he hissed out so that the two teenagers perusing the damage to the Navigator wouldn't hear. "You get me a job at your dad's garage and I play your body guard for a...month. My reputation is crap with glee club, anyway. I hang around with you and shit like this will cut way down. And maybe a few people will be intimidated enough when my time is up and they'll leave you alone for good."
Puck managed to surprise even himself with that little speech. That morning his plan had simply been to ask Kurt to get him a job at Hummel's Tire and Lube. Had been to use the fact that he had practically saved the kid's life by not letting him roll further down the bleachers last week and the fact that he had returned the princess's forgotten cell phone as leverage.
This plan...this was different and promised to be a lot more time consuming. It was also, already, making him feel guilty. Because something really fucked up had just happened to Kurt and he was exploiting it.
Screw it, thought Puck. Hummel's fine. I have to think of my future kid.
"Tina," said Kurt without bothering to even bat an eyelash at Puck. "Let's get going, shall we? I know we're supposed to go over that sheet music but...is it okay if I take you straight home? My dad is going to freak out when he sees this and I'm not sure when or if I'll be allowed to drive again."
Tina nodded. She pulled the ring of keys Kurt had handed her earlier from her pocket and opened the passenger side door. She slid into the Navigator and pressed the button that popped the rest of the locks. Kurt navigated around the broken glass and opened the scratched front door.
"Kurt-" started Puck and he reached out but Kurt cut him off yet again and dodged his touch.
"I am not getting you a job at my dad's garage and I am certainly not making some completely idiotic deal with you, Puck. For one thing the jocks haven't been bothering me as much now that I'm kicker. I haven't been slushied in weeks and no one at school has ever bothered my baby before so this is something...different. For another you hate me, you've done countless horrible things to me over the years and for all I know you could have something to do with this."
Tina handed him the keys once he had snapped the driver side door closed and he started the engine, quickly backed up the hulking vehicle and drove away before Puck could snap out the 'fuck you then, Hummel' waiting in his throat.
"Can you believe it?" Karofsky was suddenly at his side again.
Puck rolled his hands into fists at his side. He had just asked Kurt Hummel for a favor. He had offered Kurt a deal and had been turned down flat. He had practically been lectured at by McKinley's resident gay and he himself had invited it all to happen.
"No man," answered Puck. "No I can't."
Puck was sprawled on the couch in the living room. He could hear his mother humming and running water and making cooking noises in the kitchen. His little sister was in the living room with him, sitting pretzel style on the plush recliner and giggling every now and then at the antics of Hannah Montana. Puck stared at the television and considered changing the channel; decided finding a slightly less crappy Saturday morning rerun to watch wouldn't be worth one of his sister's tantrums.
As Hannah and friends went to commercial his phone rang. He dived for it, snatched it up from the coffee table and checked the glowing screen. He barely managed to suppress a groan when he saw that it was Finn.
Son of a bitch. He had been hoping for a call from one of the burger joints or restaurants he had applied to, maybe even a call from Quinn. Quinn...he wasn't even sure what he wanted to hear the girl say. That she had had a change of heart? That she wanted him to help her out and to be a part of the baby's life after all? Or possibly that she had suffered from temporary amnesia concerning the whole sex thing and Finn actually was the father?
"What’s up, man?”
“Hey Puck. It’s Finn.”
No shit. “Um...yeah?”
“Do you want to hang out? We can catch that new spy movie or something.”
His baby sister was suddenly aiming a fierce glare his way, apparently he was being too loud. He glared back but stood and moved out to the porch, shut the front door firmly behind him before she could work up a whine.
“Sorry, dude. No can do today.” He rejected the invitation without hesitation. There were so many good reasons not to go to a movie with Finn. Reasons like he had to save and scrape together as much money as possible for Quinn and the baby. Like he was the actual father of Quinn’s kid-to-be and both he and the Cheerio knew it and hadn’t told the quarterback, weren’t planning on telling him anytime soon.
“Oh.” Finn sounded disappointed and it made Puck tense up, just a little bit. “I just thought...” he trailed off and was quiet for a minute. “It doesn’t have to be a movie, man.” He got quiet again and Puck realized that Finn’s phone call wasn’t about his best friend being bored or about a desire to waste a Saturday watching a movie featuring some very hot chicks and lots of explosions. No, Finn was calling because he wanted to talk to Puck. And that made sense. Because Finn had dropped the pregnant Quinn bombshell on him a little over three weeks ago now and Puck hadn’t so much as grunted an encouraging word about the situation in his friend’s direction.
“Okay,” he agreed and even before the word was out of his mouth the tension he was feeling eased. “Yeah, dude. How about we meet at Breadsticks for lunch?”
-----
The pizza at Breadsticks was awesome. Puck had ordered three slices. He picked up one of the huge slices and took a healthy sized bite as he waited for Finn to stop fiddling with his large glass of soda and straw and say something already.
“So,” Finn finally ventured just as Puck finished off his first slice. “Did you see Kurt’s locker yesterday? That was pretty messed up.”
Puck blinked. Was his best friend seriously trying to have a conversation about Kurt Hummel with him? He reached for his own glass and took a drink, reasoned that Finn was probably nervous. The guy was likely trying to break the silence with a random topic, was maybe trying to work up to discussing the Quinn drama. Puck shrugged and placed his glass back on the table. “No,” he said shortly. And then realizing he wasn’t exactly looking forward to the Quinn conversation asked, “Did someone write on it again or something?” That was no big surprise. He knew the more cruel jocks sometimes scrawled words like QUEER or FAG or worse across the face of Hummel’s locker.
Finn shook his head. “No. It was like...bent. And his lock was all scratched up.”
Puck just nodded. Because honestly, what was he supposed to say to that? He had played a big part in bullying Hummel before joining glee club and he was only holding back snide comments now because he could clearly remember that dick from Thursday shoving the kid down the bleachers. Shoving the kid down the bleachers. The memory made him feel sort of sick. He had certainly never been friendly with the little gay and had only recently started being (mostly) civil to him but there was a line when it came to that shit.
Their waitress abruptly appeared. She topped off their drinks before vanishing again and things got quiet while Finn tore into his pasta.
“I’ve been trying to get a job,” Puck admitted after swallowing his last bite of pizza. If Finn wasn’t going to use this time to bitch and moan about his teenage father crisis like he was supposed to than Puck would use it to covertly bitch and moan about his own teenage father crisis.
Finn let go of his fork and leaned back in his seat. He seemed surprised. “A...job? Don't you already kind of have one? What happened to cleaning pools?"
Puck shrugged. "Business is crap when it isn't warm outside. I need something else." He was also kind of tired of dealing with the cougars and their drama, not that he would ever admit that to Finn. Dealing with desperate questions like 'how old do I look, Puck?' or being forced to jump out of windows with his shirt still only half on because a husband had arrived home unexpectedly early got old fast.
Finn frowned, then nodded. "Yeah. I should probably start looking for something, too. Quinn has already mentioned it and..." He trailed off, combed large fingers through his hair. "Having a baby is probably going to cost a lot of money, right? Like a lot."
Puck didn't reply.
"It sucks," continued Finn. "I mean, look at Kurt."
Puzzled, Puck squinted at his friend. How exactly were they back to talking about the little gay?
"His dad owns that tire and lube place...he doesn't have to worry about getting a job. It's too bad we don't know anybody who owns a business or something. That makes it so much easier, dude."
Slowly, Puck reached for his Dr. Pepper again. "Yeah," he agreed before moving in to take a drink. "Too bad."
-----
Puck knew that his idea wasn't a great idea. That it was in fact a pretty bad idea. But that didn't really matter because he had Quinn to think about. No, he had the baby Quinn was now carrying to think about. And as hard as it was to swallow that baby was way more important than any of his own feelings, was more important than even the hit his pride might take if his idea didn't work out.
He confronted Kurt after school on Monday. The kicker was with the goth chick (Tina, if he was remembering right) when Puck spotted him. The girl had the door to her locker open and was rifling through it while Kurt hovered near her shoulder looking bored.
"I don't know," she was saying as Puck approached the pair. "I liked her older songs a lot but-"
"Hummel," broke in Puck and both Tina and Kurt turned to look at him. Tina with her mouth slightly open in what was probably surprise and Kurt with a frown. "I need to talk to you."
Tina's mouth snapped shut and she spun to stare at her friend.
"About what?" asked the kicker after what seemed like a long and awkward moment to Puck.
"Alone," he clarified. He shot a look at the still flummoxed looking Tina.
The girl hesitated, slammed her locker door closed and shrugged her backpack on. "Uh. I don't..." She went quiet and stared at Kurt.
"You go ahead," he said and handed her a ring of keys. "Let yourself in. I'll catch up."
Tina gave Puck a lingering look he couldn't read before hurrying away. Her boots made a heavy smack smack noise as she made the brief trek down the hallway. She pushed open the double doors that led out to the student parking lot and vanished from sight.
"What is it?" asked Kurt as soon as she was gone. "What do you want?"
Puck opened his mouth, then found he couldn't bring himself to speak and closed it again. He ran a hand over his mohawk and cleared his throat.
You're freaking Puck, he reminded himself. You're a first class badass with amazing guns. You're doing this for the baby and...if the kid laughs in your face you can always go back to tossing him in the dumpster.
"Okay, Hummel," he managed. "I know this is going to sound pretty crazy but just hear me out." He paused and took in the little gay's reaction; the teenager had his arms crossed over his chest and his lips pursed tight like he was trying to avoid saying something.
"Your dad," Puck went on. And that got the kicker's attention. He straightened his back and glared at Puck. "He owns a tire and lube place, right?"
Kurt eyed him for a moment before giving a short, sharp nod. "Yes."
Puck went on before the kicker could say anything else, before he could ask a question. "And he needs help there, right? I heard you mention that he needed someone at lunch last week and I've been looking for something part time-"
"You're kidding," spat Kurt, cutting him off and he certainly wasn't laughing in Puck's face. He looked fucking livid. "Tell me you're kidding, Puck. Tell me that you are not seriously asking me to get you a job at my dad's garage."
Puck had his response on the tip of his tongue when one of the doors that led to the parking lot came open with a loud bang and Tina charged through, breathing hard and looking panicked. "K-Kurt!" she shouted as soon as she spotted them. But before she could get anything else out Dave Karofsky loomed up behind her, holding the same door the girl had entered through open with a gigantic hand. His face was flushed and his ears were bright red. He looked excited.
Immediately, Puck tensed and shot hurried looks between Tina and Karofsky. Because if his douche of a teammate was actually chasing the girl down he was dead. Bullying a chick was up there with pushing someone down a bunch of bleachers and was definitely on Puck's list of shit that crossed the line.
It took him a few seconds to realize that Karofsky was just hovering in the doorway and that Tina hadn't continued to sprint away from him. Instead, she was hurrying over to Kurt and linking an arm with the soprano and talking way too fast to be normal.
"...and so I shouted and the guy went running. I guess Karofsky...er... I guess Dave h-heard me or maybe he heard the glass smashing and he saw the guy run away, too. I'm so sorry, Kurt. It looks terrible. Do you think we should call the police because you have w-witnesses and maybe..." She went on as she tugged the kicker down the hallway and toward the doors with her.
Feeling more than a little confused Puck followed them. Still gripping the door a stunned looking Karofsky stepped aside to let the two shorter teenagers through. He let out a bark of a laugh that sounded more surprised than filled with humor when Puck reached the exit.
"Dude," he started and fell in next to Puck as they all four started across the parking lot. "I'm no fan of the Fairy's or anything but that shit was messed up!" The large teenager let out another of those strange laughs and shook his head.
"What shit, exactly?" asked Puck.
"Didn't you hear the goth chick, man? The guy had a fucking bat and everything."
Puck was about to ask for clarification when they all four came to a sudden stop next to Kurt's Lincoln Navigator.
Puck really liked the Navigator. Even the jocks fond of damaging Hummel's property (Karofsky to name one) thought the Navigator was a sweet ride and left it the hell alone.
Or had left it alone. Past tense because someone had viciously keyed the entire left side of the vehicle (nonsensical, crisscrossing lines now flawed the sleek paint job) and had shattered the left side view mirror.
Tina said, "I was almost to y-your truck and then I saw this guy just gouging into the paint with a key! I shouted at him to stop -- maybe I shouldn't have because the guy was obviously crazy and it turns out he had a bat -- and Karofsky came over and the guy turned around and smashed your mirror! Then he ran off. I'm so sorry, Kurt. Maybe...maybe if I hadn't-"
"Don't," ordered Kurt. His arm was still linked with the girl's. "It is not your fault my mirror got smashed, Tina. If the guy had a bat he was obviously planning to do much worse than this."
Tina stepped away and started to walk a slow circle around the truck. Karofsky followed her example, mumbling under his breath. The large jock didn't appear to be bothered by or even aware of the fact that he was surrounded by three members of the glee club. He seemed mesmerized by the damage to the Navigator.
Puck found himself next to Kurt. "This...this really sucks," he said. When the soprano said nothing to that he went on. "I'll make you a deal," he hissed out so that the two teenagers perusing the damage to the Navigator wouldn't hear. "You get me a job at your dad's garage and I play your body guard for a...month. My reputation is crap with glee club, anyway. I hang around with you and shit like this will cut way down. And maybe a few people will be intimidated enough when my time is up and they'll leave you alone for good."
Puck managed to surprise even himself with that little speech. That morning his plan had simply been to ask Kurt to get him a job at Hummel's Tire and Lube. Had been to use the fact that he had practically saved the kid's life by not letting him roll further down the bleachers last week and the fact that he had returned the princess's forgotten cell phone as leverage.
This plan...this was different and promised to be a lot more time consuming. It was also, already, making him feel guilty. Because something really fucked up had just happened to Kurt and he was exploiting it.
Screw it, thought Puck. Hummel's fine. I have to think of my future kid.
"Tina," said Kurt without bothering to even bat an eyelash at Puck. "Let's get going, shall we? I know we're supposed to go over that sheet music but...is it okay if I take you straight home? My dad is going to freak out when he sees this and I'm not sure when or if I'll be allowed to drive again."
Tina nodded. She pulled the ring of keys Kurt had handed her earlier from her pocket and opened the passenger side door. She slid into the Navigator and pressed the button that popped the rest of the locks. Kurt navigated around the broken glass and opened the scratched front door.
"Kurt-" started Puck and he reached out but Kurt cut him off yet again and dodged his touch.
"I am not getting you a job at my dad's garage and I am certainly not making some completely idiotic deal with you, Puck. For one thing the jocks haven't been bothering me as much now that I'm kicker. I haven't been slushied in weeks and no one at school has ever bothered my baby before so this is something...different. For another you hate me, you've done countless horrible things to me over the years and for all I know you could have something to do with this."
Tina handed him the keys once he had snapped the driver side door closed and he started the engine, quickly backed up the hulking vehicle and drove away before Puck could snap out the 'fuck you then, Hummel' waiting in his throat.
"Can you believe it?" Karofsky was suddenly at his side again.
Puck rolled his hands into fists at his side. He had just asked Kurt Hummel for a favor. He had offered Kurt a deal and had been turned down flat. He had practically been lectured at by McKinley's resident gay and he himself had invited it all to happen.
"No man," answered Puck. "No I can't."