𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐟𝐥𝐲 | q. fabray

Acafellas

The Hummel house was in a disarray of chaos as they prepared for the arrival of Julian Hummel – Kurt and Adalynn's older cousin. He transferred to McKinley after being expelled from his last school for burning his textbooks in a trash bin in the lunchroom.

Long story short, Burt Hummel was not pleased with the bad boy 17-year-old moving in with them. Adalynn, however, couldn't be more excited.

Since Kurt insisted that he couldn't share his room under any circumstances, the younger Hummel's room had been rearranged and Julian would be rooming with her instead.

There was a loud knock on the door, followed by a joking voice saying, "FBI, open up."

"Julian!" Adalynn exclaimed as she ran to the front door, sticking her tongue out at Kurt as she beat him to it. She turned the handle and saw her favorite – and only – cousin.

"Woah, woah, hold on a minute," said Julian. "Little Adalynn, is that you? Jesus Christ, you're so big now."

"And you still smell like a landfill," the younger girl said, laughing as her cousin sniffed his armpit and pretended to gag. "I missed you, knucklehead."

"Missed you more, bunny brain," Julian teased as he pulled her into a hug.

"I'll have you know I have a 84 average in Algebra," said Adalynn. "And a 96 in English."

"English doesn't count," the older boy scoffed as he came inside.

"Why not?"

"Cause you're so damn good at it, duh," said Julian, ruffling her hair before turning to Kurt. "Sup, Kurtie."

"Julian," Kurt replied, crossing his arms and staring his older cousin down. "Just know that I'll go all Tasmanian Devil on you if you're a bad influence on her."

"Me? A bad influence?" Julian asked, putting a hand to his chest in mock offense. "No way."

"I'm watching you."

"Don't hold your breath."

****

"Five, six, seven, eight."

Adalynn sighed, rolling her eyes as she moved to the rhythm of Mr. Schuester's counting. Anyone in this choir room would be a better choreographer than the curly haired teacher. Even Finn, and that's really saying something.

"Sorry," the brunette whispered as she accidently stepped on Tina's foot.

"It's okay," the goth replied.

"Could we stop please?" asked Rachel, getting everyone's attention.

"You don't have to ask every time for permission to go to the bathroom, Rachel," said Mr. Schue. "You can just go."

"It's not my bladder," said the diva. "It's the choreography."

"Okay, what's wrong with the choreography?" asked Mr. Schue

"It sucks."

Adalynn stifled a laugh, causing Kurt to elbow her.

"We can't compete with Vocal Adrenaline with these steps," Rachel continued. "You're a great vocal coach, Mr. Schue, but you're not a trained choreographer. That's what we need to be the best. We need Dakota Stanley. He was an understudy on Broadway."

"Just because he understudied doesn't mean he ever performed," said Mr. Schue.

"Did you ever perform, Mr. Schuester?" asked Quinn. "After high school. Did you even try?"

Adalynn made an amused face, impressed by the nerve the head cheerleader had to call out their teacher like that. Kurt, however, frowned when he noticed how his sister enjoying how uncomfortable the curly haired man seemed and elbowed her again.