17A/N So this story was really meant to be a oneshot, I just forgot to press the complete button :/ But then I figured that there was more to the story, so I made it a twoshot :) Not many people reviewed but whatever, I still like the story idea :) Not to sound stuck up or anything. I'm also writing a multi chapter Puckleberry fic, so let me know if you're interested in that. Btw, all my stories are based off of where Glee is in the UK, so we just had the substitute, so if they're wrong in plot or anything like that, thats why :( So if you enjoy then review :)
Rachel Berry had spent exactly an hour and a half in the toilets. She had phoned her Daddy and asked him to drop off some clothes for her, because she'd changed her mind about her outfit. She'd looked down at the floor when she went to get them from reception, because she didn't want the receptionists look of pity. She had brushed her hair out, changed her clothes and scrubbed her face until she couldn't smell cherry anymore. Then she had sprayed some perfume, just so no one else could smell the lingering scent of slushy and headed to 3rd period with the rest of her peers.
She kept her head high despite all the whispers and laughs that followed her through the hallway, she ignored the jeers and crappy jokes, and tried to console herself with the fact that she would be a star one day, and then all these people would be begging her to give them the time of day.
She had kept silent when she passed Quinn Fabray, dressed in – what else – a Cheerio's uniform, with Santana and Brittany – her newest minion – behind her.
"Wow RuPaul, you stink of Cherry."
"Yeah Treasure Trail, ever think of getting sanitized?"
In fact all the way to Spanish she had managed to stay silent, and not burst into tears, yes she had managed to hold everything in until she ran into Puck.
"Rach-" He had stopped and was looking down at her, his brown eyes all sorrowful. A few hours ago she may have fallen for it but not now.
"Don't." She had given him a steely gaze and continued on her way to Spanish.
If she had turned around, she would have seen him standing in the corridor, watching her tiny figure retreat.
But she was Rachel Berry, and she had far too much pride to look back.
Puck had continued on to the locker room after his brief encounter with Rachel. He felt like shit for doing it, but it had to be done. And technically she brought it upon herself, with those dumb clothes she wore, and her stupid songs. And he had total Badass status now. He was notorious. He'd only been in High School a few hours and everyone knew his name. Three girls had already asked him to come over to theirs that night, and they were all older.
He was kind of okay with it all though. I mean she was just Rachel Berry, and its not like they were friends or anything. Sure they had gotten off the night of that dance, but that was it. So he tried not to mind, when she didn't show up for her first lesson, even though he knew she was meant to be there, cause he listened for her name on the register. He felt bad when Quinn giggled with Brittany when her name was called, but so what, shit happens. Besides they'd been picking on Rachel since forever.
But shit, he felt bad. Like worse than that time everyone laughed at her at that pool party, or when his Dad left. And then the way she had looked at him when she passed him in the hall, like she hated him. He kind of hated himself too.
He hadn't told anyone about their kiss, mainly because Santana would most likely chop his balls off, but also because he was afraid. Not afraid of what people would say, well just a bit, but terrified because he had felt something. Whenever he got with Santana or another girl, it was always just because he was horny and it felt good. With Rachel it had felt different, like he actually wanted her. And he couldn't do that. She was a loser, a freak and she would drag him down into social obscurity. Also he had promised himself that he would never let himself get too attached to someone if they would up and leave, not after his Dad.
School had just finished and Rachel had just gotten home. The first thing she had done was shove her clothes in the washing machine, so that her Dads wouldn't find them and start asking questions. The slushy was too humiliating to tell them about, it was too humiliating to think about. Once the clothes were tumbling around the machine, after being soaked in stain remover, Rachel allowed herself to go upstairs. She had washed most of the slushy off herself, but there was only so much you could do in the girls bathroom.
She took her time in the shower, lathering her hair several times just in case any remmenats of the slushy remained, she scrubbed herself with vanilla shower gel and exfoliated her face until she was sure she had lost several layers of skin. When she got out the shower, she threw away all of her fruity smelling products, not wanting to ever smell like a fruit again. She couldn't fight it though, every time she looked in the mirror she just saw herself covered in the sticky substance, it seeping through her clothes.
Rachel wanted to go right over to the Puckermans house and give Noah a piece of her mind. But she didn't, because she was scared if she saw him she might cry.
After she was done in the bathroom she returned to her bedroom, and ripped every trace of Noah out of her room. Her class photo's from elementary school? Shoved in a box and placed in her daddies room. The picture that she has of them from her Bat Mitzvah (his mom made him go), torn into little pieces and flung all around her room. She rummaged through her draws until she found that tiny yellow bikini, and she hurled it into the bin with such force that it toppled over. She kind of felt like beating something up. In particular Noah Puckerman.
Satisfied with her work, she went downstairs to retrieve her wet clothes, just so that her daddies wouldn't ask questions when they got home. She was just surveying the damage - turns out that not even the stain remover can remove her humiliation – when the doorbell rang.
She really hopes that its someone who came to check on her and see if she was okay, because she could really use a friend right now. Or if not a friend a mom. Her dads were great, but they just wouldn't understand if she told them about her summer fantasies of Noah, so it had just been something that she had had to keep to herself all summer long.
Sighing she opened the door, and stood back.
"Berry?" She looked up and found Puck at her door, his hands in his pockets looking awfully sheepish. She moved to slam the door in his face, because really he was the last person she wanted to see right now.
"Wait!" He wedged his foot between the door and the frame, and pushed it back open.
"What do you want?" She glared up at him and tried her hardest to look menacing, despite the fact that she's almost a foot shorter than him and wearing a tank top and shorts.
"I'm sorry." He looked sincere, and for a moment her heart kinda slows down, and all she wants is to run into her arms. But then she blinked and rather than sweet, kind Noah all she could see was threatening, mean, slushy wielding Puck.
"Well thats great. Goodbye." She tried she slam the door, but it only moved an inch.
"No, Berry I'm serious." He ran a hand over his Mohawk, "I like didn't wanna do it or anything, Karofsky and the others, they made me."
She narrowed her eyes and tried to control an urge to scream or throw a chair at him or something.
"How did they make you? Did they take your mom hostage or something?" She pointed an accusatory finger at him, "No, they didn't. You're just scared. You want to be popular and you're scared that if anyone knows you actually like me, they'll brand you a freak as well." She lowered her finger and sniffed, "Life at the tops lonely Noah, but you wouldn't know that because you're just a scared little boy that follows the crowd. You're mean and horrible and I never want to talk to you again."
He just looked at her, in her tiny shorts, with her face all flushed from her speech and she was looking up at him like she wanted to kill him and she looked so beautiful in that moment. So he leant down and kissed her. She stayed still for a moment and then pushed him away.
"Noah! What are you doing?"
He smiled down at her softly,
"I'm sorry Berry. I missed you over the summer you know," He reached his hand out and ran it gently over her bare arm, knowing that it always drove girls crazy. He watched her inhale deeply.
"Do you...Do you want to come inside?" She whispered almost inaudibly, but he smirks and follows her in.
An hour later they've progressed to the couch, and her hairs all tangled and both their lips are swollen. This is not what she imagined her night was going to be like.
"You're fucking sexy Berry" He mutters into her neck, as his hands run up and down her tanned, smooth legs. She'd really rather he said beautiful or something less derogatory, but she'll take what she can get. And she really doesn't want him to stop what he's doing to her neck.
"Noah, we need to stop." She pulled back suddenly, her eyes catching sight of the clock, "My daddy will be home soon."
"Shit." He sat up abruptly, parents really aren't his thing.
"I'll see you tomorrow?" She asked wearily, biting her lip.
"See you tomorrow Berry." He leant forward and captured her lips in one last kiss. She smiled into the kiss, and closed her eyes, savouring it.
All too soon she found herself alone in her house, fishing her now dry clothes out of the dryer, wondering what the hell just happened.
After his encounter with Rachel, Puck had walked over to the park, where he was meeting Santana. He had never meant to get with Rachel, he had just wanted to apologize, because he honestly felt like shit about the whole thing. And also like a really bad Jew.
Santana had taken one look at his swollen lips, and rumpled clothes and asked him who'd he'd been fucking. He really didn't want to say, because while Berry was nice and all, she sure wasn't worth risking his reputation for.
He'd reeled off the name of some random girl that he'd met at school, and Santana had pursed her lips, satisfied with his answer. They weren't together, but she liked to know who else he was fucking, just so that she didn't get caught out or anything. Puck was hers, but she didn't mind sharing, as long as the girls were just brainless whores that didn't mean anything to him.
About an hour later, when she'd gotten tired of making out, they'd begun talking. They never talked about anything deep or shit, just light stuff, like about people from school.
"What you did to Manhands today was totally hot, it made me want to get my mack on with you." She laughed, sucking on his neck gently.
"It did, did it?" He had flirted back, ignoring the churning feeling in the pit of his stomach, "well that was the last time I'm ever doing that."
Santana immediately pulled away, looking like someone had slapped her.
"What? Why? Its totally badass, everyone knows who we – you – are now. If you stop everyone's gonna think you've gone soft." She crossed her arms over her chest and looked down at him.
"Nah, they know I'm a badass babe."
"Do it Puck, or this," She gestured around, "is over."
"Babe." He whined, his heart beating so quickly he wondered if she could hear it, "Dont do this."
"I mean it Puckerman, I need people to see me with a badass football player, if you don't want to be that person I can easily replace you." She stood up, "And I can make sure that no girl ever sleeps with you again." She smiled and stalked off into the semi darkness.
That night all he could think about was a documentary he'd watched on the nature channel with Finn once. It was about this pack of animals, and they all ate each other or some shit, and he realised High School was kind of like that. Eat or be eaten. Slushy or be slushied. And Noah Puckerman was not going to be eaten. Or slushied.
The next day Puck came to school, a supersize cup of bright cherry flavoured slushy in his hand. He had barely slept all night, dreading what the morning would bring, because whilst she had forgiven him once, he knew if he did it again then whatever he had going with Rachel would be over before he could blink. So he hung out by his locker, surrounded by his football cronies, waiting for Rachel to walk by.
She didn't say anything to him, because she knew the moment she saw him, holding the giant cup. She knew that she was going to be humiliated again. She had known on some level anyway, which is why safely stashed in her locker, was a change of clothes, some hand towels and toiletries.
But there was something that disturbed her deeply about him. Yesterday his eyes had been filled with remorse and emotion; today they were cold, heartless, like he didn't even care.
She closed her eyes as she saw the wave of ice coming towards her and tried very hard not to cry. Because she was Rachel Berry, future Broadway star, and she didn't need anyone , especially not Noah Puckerman.