Wildest Dreams (Maisie's Version)

Prologue

To truly understand my story, one must first begin with Noah. Because although we weren't destined to be endgame, Noah Puckerman is deeply woven into my life in ways that could never be undone. He is my beginning. My prologue.

We begin not all that long ago, at the start of the summer before Freshman year. It was an early June evening when Noah appeared in my life. I was at a party hosted by some college kid I didn't know. My oldest sister Cara was the one who had dragged me there when our other sister, Ella, declined the invitation so she could stay home prepping to leave for university in the fall. Cara loved parties; Ella and I only tolerated them.

The air inside the house was stale mixed with the smell of weed, cheap beer, and sweat. I was in the living room, squished onto a scratchy green couch next to Cara who was chatting with some guy who was at least six years my senior. Cara would bump her elbow into me every so often, making the soda I was carrying slosh violently. I was desperate for a book, but Cara made me leave them all at home.

It was probably nearing ten when I stood up. "I'm going to get some air," I informed Cara, smoothing the edges of my shirt.

"Don't go anywhere with somebody you don't know. Call me if you need me." She had only spared me a quick glance before once more becoming engrossed in her conversation.

Outside, the air was colder, and the breeze gave me a welcomed chill. Several people swarmed the front lawn and porch. Some surrounded the corn hole boards arguing over points, while others bordered on needing a bedroom to continue their activities. I passed them all, dropping to the grass near the road.

I'd only been out there a few minutes before there was a rumbling down the street, getting louder as it approached. A motorcycle pulled to the curb directly in front of me. The mystery man cut off the engine and took his helmet off, sitting it on the bike. That's when I realized I recognized him. It was Noah. Noah and I had known each other since we were eight, but it wasn't until the beginning of eighth grade that our friend groups began intersecting.

"Monteith, I didn't know this type of thing was your scene," He had said.

"It's not. My sister, Scarlett, dragged me," I told him, standing up when the soil got too cold. "Your hair looks cool." Where his dark hair had once nearly covered his eyes, it was shaved on the sides, leaving just a narrow strip down the center.

"Thought it made me look more badass." Puck looked around at the people in the yard behind us. "I'm supposed to be meeting a friend, but you wanna get out of here?"

"What about your friend?"

I remember how Puck looked that night. He shrugged as if he wouldn't rather be anywhere else. "Can meet up with him whenever. So you coming or not?"

"So long as you have me home by midnight," I said before texting Cara that I was leaving and that I'd let her know when I was home.

Puck smirked. "Why? You gonna turn into a mouse?" He handed me his helmet. "Put this on."

"I'm not a horse so no. But I am desperate to get home to my pajamas and Chicago DVD."

"Ah, so party girl turns loner after midnight," he'd said, getting onto the bike. When he pushed the kickstand up, I had to put my hands on his waist to steady myself when the bike tilted momentarily. "Got it. Tell me, your pajamas, they don't happen to be frilly pink underwear, do they? Maybe a g-string?"

I smacked his shoulder, releasing a gasp that turned into a laugh as he started the bike, and we rode off down the road. "Pig. And I'm not a loner."

"I know, Monteith."

We ended up a few blocks away at the 7-Eleven just outside of town. We got the largest cups they had and filled them to the brim with every flavor the slushie machine had.

Under the neon sign and glowing windows, we sat shoulder to shoulder, tossing pieces of sour candy into each other's mouths.

"Aunt Sue's gonna kill me if she sees me eating this crap. Bet Coach Tanaka will do the same to you."

Puck shrugged. "Screw'em."

We kissed then. It was amazing and I vowed to remember that night for the rest of my life. Funny, because I can't remember now if it had been he who kissed me or if it was me.

"Here you are, Cinderella. Back at your castle before midnight," he'd said when he dropped me off on the street in front of my home.

"Thanks for tonight, Puck. I had fun," I told him as I got off the bike and handed him his helmet."

"Maybe we can do it again sometime."

"Yeah, I'd like that."

He was gone before I made it to the front door. His bike a shadow in the night.

Every night after that ended the same way. A blur of leather, parties, and the roaring of the bike. I'd sneak into the house just before midnight, falling asleep blissfully just to wake up the next morning ready to start it all over again.

It turned sour just as quickly as it started. The fights began less than a month after we began hanging out. On the fourth of July, I was supposed to attend my family's annual celebration, but Puck convinced me to go to Charlie James' party. I had hoped this would be our debut as a real couple, but he had spent the whole night smoking pot with some guys from the football team. When came to find me hours later reeking of weed and drunk off his ass, he couldn't understand why I was so pissed. I walked over an hour home in the dark, hoping he'd follow me. He never did.

The next morning, he showed up on my doorstep with flowers and asked me to forgive him. Stupidly, I did.

It continued like this the whole summer, into the fall, winter, and then into the next summer. I thought the other girls flirted with him too much. He thought the dress I wore to Matt Rutherford's birthday party was too slutty. He wouldn't meet my family. I was too controlling. I hate you. We're done. I love you. I'm sorry. It was infuriating. It was intoxicating. Maybe it was crazy and juvenile, but I was in love.

Which brings us to the present. And to where the real love story begins...