The Quarterback's Bestfriend

Spanish Teacher

Waiting for Mr. Schue to arrive, we were scattered about the choir room messing around. Santana was playing with the maracas from Mr. Schue's rendition of La Cucaracha yesterday, while I took pictures of my friends.

Mr. Schue walks into the room and straight to the whiteboard, as per usual, and writes: 2030. "Where do you think you'll be in the year 2030?"

"Broadway," Rachel and Kurt say together.

They look across the room at each other, giggling, "Twinsies!"

Artie raises his hand, "Walking."

I chuckle, hoping that by 2030 Artie is walking and that Rachel and Kurt are on Broadway.

"In jail, or dead... Or both," Puck says to himself, scaring me. We may not be together but I still care for him and I really hope he's wrong.

Mr. Schue takes what he said at face value and moves past it, unsure of how to handle that, "Wherever you are, whatever you're doing, you're going to need to be able to speak Spanish. The reality is, by 2030, more people on this planet will be speaking Spanish than any other language. The world is changing. Our culture is changing. And that needs to be reflected in here. So for our next assignment, we're only doing songs written or performed by someone Latin, or of Latin descent. Or English songs performed bilingually."

"Ooh, I'm bilingual," Britt says to Quinn and Sugar. More like Bi-sexual.

Santana and I exchange a look. She clears her throat, getting his attention, "Mr. Schue, though I love that we're finally getting all Lima Sound Machine in here, why now?"

"Oh, Santana, because it's long overdue. The truth is, I love all things Latin. I mean, I love Latin food, Latin art, Latin people."

I snort with Santana chorusing, "You don't know any Latin people."

He looks at us, struggling to fabricate a lie, "I know. Um.."

Then a cute guy walks into the choir room, smiling the world's cutest smile, "Lo siento por llegar tarde. yo estaba usando el hilo dental."

How does Mr. Schuester know him?

Mr. Schue looks to his friend like he was the Savior, throwing his arm around the muscled man, "Guys, this is David Martinez. David Martinez, this is the Glee Club."

Rachel gawks at him, mumbling, "Oh, my God. Cutest-"

Sugar is staring at him like a dog with a bone, "Smile."

"Ever," Artie finishes, earning a collective confused look from the guys and me because we're the only one's not drooling over Mr. Martinez.

Mr. Martinez smiles at us, laughing, "Hello, everyone. Es un honor para mí conocerlos a ustedes. It's a pleasure."

Mr. Schue looks to Santana and I, "David here is one of my many Latin friends. And, uh, he's interested in starting his own night school Glee Club, after hours. So, I invited him to come watch us get our duende on."

Why the Hell would we need to get our Goblin on? Finn looks at me confused, asking for me to translate, "Duende?"

"It means "dwarf," you ass," Tana spits at him, crossing her arms over her chest.

I tilt my head at her as though to say be nice, "Where I'm from it means goblin."

"Now I'm completely confused. So what's the assignment?" Puck groans.

Our director claps, "To sing, in Spanish, with duende. Which, yes, literally means "dwarf," or "goblin" but metaphorically, it means to have Spanish soul. To be filled with Spanish passion."