𝑷𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒚 𝑩𝒐𝒚 ꨄ︎ 𝑮𝒍𝒆𝒆

Part Nine [Pre-Sectionals]

Sick character aesthetic by switzflake

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"Sectionals, people! It's happening!" Mr. Schue clapped but then his face fell. "Oh, shit, it's happening..."

The crowd fell into silence along with him. That wasn't a comforting sentence. Quickly though he snapped out of it. "We have to rehearse harder than we've ever had now. I truly believe we can win this. Look how far we've come from the beginning when it was just Artie, Mercedes, Kurt, Rachel and Tina..."

Enthusiastic cheers met that statement. I sat on the farthest left side as always, silent until spoken to. No one had really acknowledged me since my "sing-off" with Santana. I didn't mind.

Don't ask why I still went to those damn rehearsals; even I couldn't tell you why. My best excuse is that I get to hang out with Kurt more.

"We were five and we weren't that good. Now look at us. We're twelve and we can and will rock the roof off of Sectionals."

"Actually Mr. Schue, there's thirteen of us." The brunette I don't like who's name I think is Rachel (considering how cocky she is I'm surprised she hasn't told me her name 5 million times, but she seems to go out of her way to ignore me) stated like the flexing know-it-all she is. I'm surprised she even bothered to say that; that "thirteenth" person had to me.

"Cole won't be performing." Mr. Schuester told her, looking over at me sadly. I had to fight pretty hard to get him to understand that.

There was no way I was getting on a stage and singing in front of a thousand people for a show choir competition. I'd a) cry and b) throw up.

"Then why the hell is he here?"

"Seriously." Santana agreed. "It's kind of creepy, the way he just sits there and watches us... You know what? Maybe he's a spy."

"Excuse me?" I raised my eyebrow. "Why would I want to spy on a fucking show choir?"

"Language." Mr. Schue warned but Santana and I didn't pay him any attention. She was approaching me again. "I don't even know where you came from. You just appeared in here one day. What if he used to go to one of our competitor's schools?"

"I'm from Colorado!" I defended myself. "I highly doubt your sectionals competitors are from a thousand miles away. I'm only here because Hudson begged me to."

Kurt shot me a look, and it was a sad one. "And Kurt." I corrected, watching his frown turn back into a little smile.

Santana rolled her eyes and sat back down. "Whatever; but I don't trust him."

"You don't trust anyone, Santana! Would you just back off for once?" Kurt exclaimed in my defense. Everyone turned to look at him, and the room was completely silent. No one was expecting that, and no one talked back.

"Well!" Mr. Schue interrupted the silence. "Let's move on, shall we?"

"You didn't have to do that." I told Kurt as we exited the choir room together after practice.

He shrugged. "I'm just so... sick of her. All she does is judge and insult people."

"I kind of like her." I admitted.

"What? Why?" Kurt sounded surprised.

"I don't know. She reminds me... of me."

His face fell a little again. "Oh, I see."

Maybe I shouldn't have said that...

"I'll see you around, Cole."

I watched him walk off until I heard a loud voice in my ear. I cringed away from it. "Hey, Newman. You know hanging out with Kurt like that makes you look really gay, right?"

My eyes narrowed, and I started walking away immediately, but he followed me. "I missed the part where I gave a shit about your worthless opinion, Puckerman."

"I'm just saying."

"Well, I don't care. So leave me alone."

He stopped walking after me, but it was so clear that he wanted to call me some sort of slur.

When I got home, I dropped myself down onto my bed, not even looking twice at my guitar. I needed to sleep, so I could stop thinking about Kurt and how I think I'd hurt him, and Puck, who I'm pretty sure would tell everyone I like Kurt unlike Finn.

Not that I care what everyone else thinks- but I care about what Kurt thinks. And sometimes, I don't think he likes me back.

"Cole? Cole? COLE?" Was the first thing I remember hearing the next morning, having dragged myself out of bed, showered and been driven to morning practice with my head totally empty. I'd been completely spaced-out until then.

"What, what, what?" I demanded, already annoyed. I rather liked my mindless headspace. I threw the ball across the field to someone who'd went long while Finn approached me.

"I just got an urgent text from Mr. Schue- Coach Sylvester got some of the Cheerios on the team to drop out and now we're under twelve. Sectionals is tomorrow. We need you to perform on stage with us."

I was too tired to get upset. I simply said, "No."

I was so sick of fighting.

Finn looked taken aback. "Uh. Please, man."

"No." I repeated firmly.

But I'll be damned, because just then I noticed Puckerman. And that brunette chick that hates me. And Mr. Schuester. Followed by Santana and literally every other remaining member of the Glee Club.

Even Kurt, who's soft pretty blue eyes rested on me pleadingly was with them.

Well, fuck me.

How was I supposed to resist? "Fine, I'll be in your stupid show. Just please, for the love of all things good in the world do not break into song."

Disappointed looks washed over their faces. "But we rehearsed it and everything..." someone muttered. Mr. Schue put a hand on their shoulder. "Next time." He comforted.

Next thing I knew I was back in my spaced-out headspace, sitting through my classes until around noon when I dragged myself onto the school bus taking the Glee Club to sectionals. I plopped down on the back seat, sighing as I dug out my headphones from my schoolbag.

I shut my eyes, twisted my body to the side and put my feet up on the bench in front of me, letting myself get lost in the words of Kurt Cobain.

It was quite nice and peaceful until someone tore them off my head. "Hey!" I shouted, ready to fight whoever the hell just took my most prized possesion away from me. Until I noticed it was Kurt, and I calmed down.

"Cole," he said, "we're a Glee club on their way to a competition- you can't sit by yourself in a corner! We're going to-"

He was cut off by the driver turning on the radio. Almost immediately, everyone in the bus cued in with the lyrics. "AND THAT'S WHAT MAKES YOU BEAUTIFUL, OH OH!"

Kurt gave me a sideways glance with a smile, and mouthed, "Told you so," before walking back up the front where Finn, the nasty brunette and the wannabe Aretha Franklin were singing and laughing.

My heart sank. "Oh, dear god."

Why did I agree to this?

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