Glee: The Beginning (5 page)

‘I don ’t know,’ Finn said again. ‘I guess she’s, uh, into it.’

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Which was weird, because Quinn was totally hot, and she had this totally sexy way of talking in this kind of quiet voice that sounded so sweet and girly, even when she was bitching at someone. Like the other day at lunch, when she’d yelled at both Brittany and that Rachel Berry girl, and that poor dude that Puck and the other football players were always throwing in the Dumpste r. Quinn seemed kind of ang ry a lot of the time.

But the way she had touched his arm when she asked him to Celibacy Club was so gentle, and it really had turned him on. He liked her. He really did. He was sure of it – or, at least, half-sure of it. It was just hard to tell. Puck was, like, the tenth guy to ask him about Quinn, and he was really feeling the pressure. If he didn ’t ask her to the homecoming dance, did that mean there was something wrong with him? Or her?

‘You gotta be carefu l aroun d thos e chu rch girls,’ Puck replied, his eyes watching Quinn as she climbed to the top of a pyramid of girls. ‘They’re all wild underneath.’ It wasn ’t fair that Finn got first dibs on Quinn just because he was the quarterback. The team sucked, so how good a quarterback was he, really? Finn didn ’t even seem totally into her, which also wasn ’t fair, since Puck wanted her. Really badl y. She’d always been hot but a little too goody-goody for Puck to notice her. But on the first day of school this yea r, she’d sat in front of Puck in biolog y. When she lifted her arm and reached back to scratch her shoulde r, the neckline of her shirt bunched up, and he caught a glimpse of her pale
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pink bra strap. Normall y, the sight of a bra strap wasn ’t a big deal to Puck. After all, that summer he had started a thriving business cleaning aboveground pools, and his success was based mostly on his ability to please lonely older women who wore sexy unde rwear and lusted after him openl y. His abs were ripped, and cougars dug his Mohawk.

But something about that peek at the pale pink strap against Quinn ’s tanned shoulder had gotten him all hot and bothered. Sometimes the image came back to him as he was running down the field or eating a slice of pizza or throwing a slushie into a freshman ’s face, and it was so vivid he’d swear he could smell her strawber ry shampoo.

‘I don ’t know,’ Finn said, soundin g disappointed . He grabbed a football and tossed it in the air. ‘I don ’t think Quinn ’s like that.’

Across the field, after Brittany and Santana basket-caught Quinn from the top of the pyramid, Coach Sylvester blew the silver whistle she wore around her neck. ‘Take five, ladies. No, take three. That pyramid was wobbl y, and if you think we can make it all the way to the top with that, you are all sorely mistaken. You think this is hard? Try giving yourself laser eye surge ry –
that
’
s
hard.’ She patted Quinn on the shoulder as she passed. ‘Nice job, Q. That was as close to perfection as these lazy underachievers are going to get.’

‘Thanks.’ Quinn and Santana wandered to the bench and grabbed their water bottles. As Quinn threw her head back and took a long drink of sun-warmed wate r, she could still
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feel eyes on her from across the field. Finn and Puck had been staring at her for about ten minutes, and it made her feel good. Who didn ’t appreciate the adoring gazes of two hot guys? Her father had doted on her since she was a little girl, and Quinn found herself craving male attention. It made her sit up straighte r, smile more sweetl y, and put eve rything she had into her flips.

‘Puck canno t keep his eyes off me today,’ Santana proclaimed as she waved at Puck flirtatiousl y, tilting her hips to one side.

Are you delusional?
Quinn wanted to say.
He
’
s staring at me.
Instead , she just mad e a noncommitta l
hmm
sound . But maybe Santana was right – maybe Puck wasn ’t watching Quinn after all. Santana was prett y, Quinn thought, but in an easy-girl kind of way. Eve ryone knew that Santana had made out with at least six guys last year. But, then, Puck was a player who was notorious for dating a girl for a week before dumping her and moving on to her best friend. Why did Quin n even care wha t Puck though t about anything ? He was one of thos e guys who skippe d class and talked back to teacher s and didn ’t care abou t gettin g out of Lima. Ten years from now, he’d probably have flunked out of Lima Communit y Colleg e and woul d be drinkin g cheap beers and sleepin g on his mom ’s sofa. Total Lima loser material. Well, Finn was certainl y starin g at her, anywa y. And he was definitely a bette r catch . Maybe not the smartes t guy in the world , but he was tall and handsome . That shoul d be enough.
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‘He’s totally going to ask me to the homecoming dance.’

Santana pushed up the strap of her sports bra.

‘Who?’

‘Puck, obviousl y.’ Santana glanced over her shoulder at him. ‘I can just tell by the way he asked to cheat off my geomet ry homework this morning.’

‘Really?’ Quinn grabbed her ankle and pulled it toward her back to stretch out her quad. She glanced at the bleachers, not wanting Santana to see her face. A couple of trumpet players in the ma rching band were practicing for the home-coming game, but othe rwise the bleachers were empt y. The thought of Puck putting his hands on Santana ’s waist as they made out and swayed back and forth to some lame soft-rock song suddenly made her feel ill.

‘Definitel y.’ Santana nudged her in the ribs. ‘Are you okay?

You look pale.’

‘Dehydrated,’ Quinn lied, dropping her ankle and grabbing her water bottle again.

‘Oh.’ Santana put her arm on Quinn ’s shoulde r. ‘I’m sure Finn’s going to ask you, you know. He’s been watching you for, like, an hour! And you’ll totally make the cutest couple.’

‘We will.’ Quin n smiled . She could pictur e Finn showin g up at the door to her gian t house , holdin g some kind of corsage in the wron g color, grinnin g his goofy grin. ‘We totall y will.’

Later, whe n Coac h Sylveste r triple-tweete d her whistle, signaling the end of practice, Quinn

tried not to watch as

the football players headed to the locker room. Santana made
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a beeline for Puck, jogging over to him with her ponytail bouncing, and Quinn had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from running over there and keeping them apart. She knew she was being ridiculous . Wha t was it abou t Puck, anyway? Was she just attracte d to him becaus e he was the bad-boy type? That was so lame . She gathere d her thing s slowl y, savoring the feeling of havin g finishe d a hard practic e success-fully. She loved the way her calves tremble d with fatigu e and her shoulder s ached . It was good pain . All the Cheerio s had rushed back to the locker room to change , and it was nice to have a momen t alone . Footbal l and soccer practice s had ended, too, and the air was quiet . She threw her bag over her shoulder and heade d past the bleachers , trying not to wonde r whether Santana was still shamelessl y flirtin g with Puck. All of a sudden, someone grabbed her from behind and pulled her under the bleachers, into the alcove where all the uppe rclassmen made out during games. A tiny shriek escaped her lips before the strong hands turned her around and she saw who it was. Puck.

Her hazel eyes widened, and her stomach whooshed out from underneath her, the way it did at the top of the giant hill on the Iron Dragon roller coaster at Cedar Point. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ Her bag slid off her arm and landed in the soft grass.

‘What I’ve been thinking about doing all through practice. This.’ Puck pinned her against a metal support beam and pressed his lips to hers before she could say or think anything.
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His mouth was warm and surprisingly soft, his lips salty, and the warmth seeped into Quinn ’s body, starting at her own lips and spreading down to her fingertips and her toes. She was definitely going over the roller coaster hill. Quinn pushed Puck away. She took a deep breath and straightened her practice skirt, trying to calm the butterfl ies in her stomach. The last boy she’d let kiss her was Andrew Atkinson, and that had been like kissing a gulping frog. Kissing Puck was . . . something different entirel y. ‘Who said you could do that?’ She tilted her chin toward him rebelliousl y.

‘You.’ Puck grinned confidentl y. He smelled like sweat, but somehow on him it smelled good. ‘I saw you staring back at me during practice. I thought I was going to miss my chance when Santana wouldn ’t stop yapping at me.’

The butterflies in her stomach were doing karate now. She couldn ’t believe he’d kissed her. ‘I thought you were into her,’ Quinn said, crossing her arms over her chest.

‘You know I like you.’ Puck stroked her bare arm with his finger, and Quinn could feel all the tiny arm hairs stand on end. ‘Don ’t deny it, Quinn. You like me, too.’

She opene d her mout h to tell him he was being ridiculous, but instea d she foun d hersel f unabl e to thin k of anythin g but the way Puck’s lips had tasted . Before she knew wha t she was doing, she leane d forwar d and kissed him on the mouth , and his lips opene d eagerl y.
My God
, she though t as he presse d her back agains t the suppor t beam , his han d firmly on her waist.
This is what a kiss is supposed to be.
She felt like her brain was
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totall y floatin g away and her body was completel y takin g ove r. She couldn ’t believe thos e were her hand s runnin g dow n the back of Puck’s dam p T-shirt , across his Mohaw k – she’d always wondered wha t it felt like – as she pulle d him closer. For some odd reason , he mad e her thin k of Juicy Fruit gum . She used to love the flavor so much , she wasn ’t able to chew it for long before she had to – she couldn ’t help it – swallow it. Puck was like Juicy Fruit. She just wante d to devou r him.

‘Oh, wait.’ Quinn shoved Puck away suddenl y. He stumbled backward. ‘What
time
is it? I’m supposed to run a Celibacy Club meeting.’

‘Blow it off.’ Puck grabbed Quinn ’s arm and tried to pull her to him. Part of her wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of the afternoon hiding under the bleachers with Puck, kissing his amazing lips. But the rest of her knew she had to get back to realit y.

‘I can’t.’ She shook off Puck’s hand. He stepped toward her, and she felt herself falling under his spell again. That couldn ’t happen. ‘Besides, I invited Finn out afte rward.’

Puck stepped away. ‘But you’re not . . .’ His voice trailed off.

‘Can ’t talk. I’m so late.’ She grabbed her bag, threw it over her shoulde r, and ran toward the school, leaving Puck alone beneath the bleachers staring after her. Even though her father had always called her a princess, she’d never felt so much like Cinderella, leaving the ball long before she wanted to.

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six

McKinl ey High hal lway, Tuesday after school

W
ith his hair still wet from his post-practice shower, Finn Hudson slung his backpack over his shoulder and strolled down the hallway on his way to the Celibacy Club meeting. It always felt good to be done with football for the day. During the school day, Finn often found himself pumping his right arm through the air as if he were throwing the football to a wide receiver in the end zone, something he had to do to psych himself up for practice. Football was okay, but it didn ’t really excite him anymore. Maybe when he was a freshman and girls first started to pay attention to him whenever he wore his uniform. Seriousl y, they’d hang around outside the locker room after a game –

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even a terrible game – waiting to get a chance to talk to him. It was pretty cool.

It wasn ’t like that anymore. He was always thinking about football. At home, he’d sometimes do his homework standing up so he could do calf raises and squats while he worked. When he
did
his homework. He worked even harder on the field – he was always one of the first guys at practice. It wasn ’t always fun, but he hoped all the work would pay off someday when a scout spotted him and offered him a free ride to a good school. It didn ’t even matter what school, as long as it included a ticket out of Lima.

‘Hey, Finn, are you ready to crush Central in the big game next weekend?’ As Santana Lopez, in her short red-andblack Cheerios practice uniform, brushed past him, her long dark hair tickled his arm.

‘Uh, yeah. I guess.’

‘Quinn said you were coming to Celibacy Club toda y.’

Santana ’s sneakers squeaked as she walked down the hall next to him. ‘Is it your first time?’

That seemed like a strangely inappropriate question when talking about Celibacy Club. ‘Yeah, I’ve never been before.’

‘Cool.’ Finn followe d Santan a into room 212, his eyes mesmerize d by the swish of her Cheerio s skirt as she sashayed through the doo rway. She wasn ’t as prett y as Quinn , but she had this really hot body. It seeme d so natura l to thin k about how hot girls were. In Celibac y Club, woul d he be told not to?

‘We separate boys and girls for the first half hou r,’ Santana
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instructed, hopping up onto a desk. ‘As soon as Quinn calls the meeting to orde r.’

Finn pause d – he didn ’t see Quinn ’s silky blon d hair anywhere. This meeting would be halfway tolerable only because he was going out with her afte rward, and maybe she’d let him make out with her. Instead, the Celibacy Club meeting was populated with a handful of other Cheerios, whose arms Quinn must have twisted to get them there, as well as a bunch of dorky-looking guys who probably had the warped idea that being in the club would help them get laid. There were also a few freshman and sophomore girls in frumpy clothes who looked like they hated men. Finn felt a headache developing. The room seemed over-heated, and he couldn ’t imagine what he was supposed to talk about with a bunch of guys for half an hou r. A poster on the wall showed Miss Piggy and Kermit the Frog in wedding wear with the slogan WORTH THE WAIT.