Glee: The Beginning (11 page)

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Authors: Sophia Lowell

BOOK: Glee: The Beginning
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The door to the classroom opened a crack. Santana watched as Quinn crept into the room and slid into the seat behind
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Santana. Mr Horn remained oblivious. He’d brought slides and was fiddling with the borrowed projector from the AV

room.

‘Wha t took you so long?’ Santan a whispere d over her shoulde r. Her eyes scanne d Quinn ’s face, whic h seemed unnaturally flushed.

Quinn didn ’t answe r. Instead, she stretched forward and pointed at Santana ’s magazine. ‘Ooh, is that the new issue?

I saw this one dress that would look awesome on you. Let me find it.’

Santan a hande d over the magazine , alread y forgetting about the strange look in Quinn ’s eyes. And her smudged lip gloss.

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thirteen

Choir room, Thu rsday after school

O
n Thursday after school, the windows to the choir room were open, and the sounds of whistleblowing at practices and the faint hum of a lawn mower

spilled into the room. Kurt was perched on the piano bench, his fingers absentmindedly playing the tune of ‘How Do You Solve a Problem Like Maria?’ from one of his favorite musicals,
The Sound of Music
, on the shiny black grand piano. He used to dream of being one of the Von Trapp kids – it seemed like a perfect existence to live in a house where songs were sung every night at bedtime. (In fact, one of the beautiful blond children in the movie had been named Kurt – although it was the older brothe r, Friedrich, on whom Kurt had always
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had a crush.) Perfect, that is, until the Nazis came and ruined eve rything.

Artie glance d at the clock on the wall. Mercede s and Rachel were runnin g late, and the jazz ban d practice d in the choi r room after Glee. A coupl e of guitar s were already set up. ‘Man, where are they?’ His palm s starte d to sweat every time he though t abou t the upcomin g show. It was their last day of practic e before D-day, and of cours e Artie was nervous . Terrified , actuall y. Did he really wan t to go onstage in fron t of the entir e school ? Eve ryon e alread y hated him. Even the peopl e who didn ’t thin k he was a tota l nerd treated him as if he were some kind of leper, as if being in a wheelchai r was someho w contagious . But that’s wha t made him wan t to do this, too. He wante d to get up ther e onstage and show them all tha t ther e was somethin g he was good at. Maybe he was permanentl y excuse d from gym class becaus e he could neve r kick a ball or jum p a rope, but he could sing.

‘Did you hear Rachel on the announcements

this

morning?’ Tina asked. She was wearing a metal-studded headband and a T-shirt with Hello Kitty on it. Her eyelids were colored a glitte ry electric blue. She was drawing something on the inside of her arm with a green Sharpie.

‘Either I’m becoming desen-sitized to her, or she’s getting less annoying.’ She lifted the tip of the marke r.

‘Desensitized. ’ Kurt pause d his pian o playin g briefl y.

‘Definitel y.’

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‘Hey, that’s really good.’ Artie wheeled closer to Tina’s chai r. The drawing that covered her arm was a picture of a phoenix, its wings spread triumphantl y. He looked around for a maga-zine picture or something that she could have copied it from.

‘Did you just, you know, invent that? Like, draw it out of the air?’

‘Yeah.’ Tina blushed. She’d always been good at copying pictures she’d seen, even once they were no longer in front of her. When she was a kid, she would fill sketchbooks with doodles of things she’d seen that day – animals, people, litte r, whateve r. Even now her notebooks were filled with sketches. It gave her something to do when she was trying not to be noticed.

‘You’re an amazing artist. I had no idea.’

‘Th-th-than k you,’ Tina mumbled . Artie was so nice. She wondered if mayb e he’d had the time to chang e his mind about going to the dance . She twirle d a piece of hair around her forefinge r. Maybe she shoul d just ask him . Even if he didn ’t thin k of her like that , he wouldn ’t say no. He was too sweet for that . And then , who knew? Maybe they’ d have fun.

‘That is not going to work, princess.’ The three of them stopped what they were doing and looked up. Mercedes, with a sour look on her face, stompe d throug h the doo rway, followed quickly by Rachel. It was clear they’d been arguing.

‘Why not? It would be perfect.’ Rachel tossed her pink JanSport backpack onto a chai r. Kurt got up from the piano
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and walked over to Me rcedes, automatically standing beside her. Rachel planted her hands on her hips in an I’m-not-backing-down pose. ‘Me rcedes and I were discussing costumes for tomorrow ’s performance, and I think we should go with a fifties theme.’

‘Like, poodle skirts?’ Tina asked, skeptical.

‘Exactly!’ Rachel smiled . ‘One of my dads is an active participant in Lima’s community theater and, as you probably remember, the summer production was
Grease
. I’m sure we could borrow their poodle skirts.’

‘And for the gentlemen?’ Kurt asked. Even he wouldn ’t be caught dead in a poodle skirt.

‘Something simple and James Dean–ish. Slim black jeans, white T-shirts.’ She glanced at Artie and Kurt. ‘Greased hai r. You don ’t happen to have leather jackets, do you?’

‘Look, we’re not getting up onstage looking like rejects from your gramma ’s performance of
Grease
. That’s just lame.’

Mercedes waved her arms. ‘Poodle skirts and saddle shoes. That’s so middle school.’

‘And wha t do you suggest?’ Rachel asked, tuckin g her hair behin d her ear. Out of everyon e in Glee Club, she was the only one with any trainin g in performin g arts. She’d been in a series of pageant s as a child – always excellin g at the talen t portio n – and she only stoppe d whe n one of her dads spotte d one of the othe r seven-year-old s forcing herself to vomi t in the greenroom . But Rachel knew tha t appearances were very important , and it was essentia l to present
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a unifie d front . And who didn ’t smile at the sight of a poodl e skirt?

‘Something classie r, maybe a little flashy.’ Me rcedes closed her eyes. When she thought of a great performe r, she always pictured Madonna. Not that she thought they should all go out there dressed in catsuits and pointy bras, but they needed to do something dramatic.

‘The theater department has some rhinestoned vests from last spring ’s musical.’ Kurt’s face lit up at the thought.

‘Maybe with black T-shirts?’ Tina suggested. ‘And slim black pants, like Rachel said.’

Rachel sniffed. She knew Tina was just trying to placate her. Of course they were going against her fifties-theme idea. She had suggested it, after all, and they resented her. Maybe because she was late to join their group or because they were jealous of her talent. Either way, they were all determined to stand in the way of her career. ‘Fine.’

Me rcedes glanced at Rachel. She was glad she’d won their argument, but she didn ’t want to completely piss off Rachel and make her quit. ‘I don ’t think I could rock a poodle skirt with this bod, anywa y.’

Rachel forced a smile. ‘Let’s just practice,’ she said priml y.

‘We still haven ’t nailed all those moves. Kurt, you keep leading with the wrong foot.’

Kurt gave her a brief salute. ‘Yes, Captain.’

Rachel sighed and then cued them to take it from the top. There was no point in getting upset about this. She probably
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wasn ’t going to be at McKinley much longe r. And while it would be satisfying to tell them all that, she wanted to make sure they would still listen to her directions for the perform-ance. She needed this performance to rock the house – she wanted to go out with a bang.

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fourteen

McKinl ey High hal lway, Thu rsday after school

D


o you think Rachel really knows every single word in
West Side Story
?’ Tina asked Artie as the two of them, both exhausted, left Glee Club practice. While Rachel was whipping them into fighting shape, as she called it, she claimed that in the second grade she’d memorized the complete lyrics to her favorite musical.

‘It wouldn ’t surprise me,’ Artie said. ‘She strikes me as the obsessive type.’

Tina giggled. She untied her black hoodie from around her waist and slid her arms into the sleeves. ‘It’s a really long musical.’

‘It still wouldn ’t surprise me.’ Artie smiled and stopped.

‘I’ve got to go this way.’ He tilted his head toward the back
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entranc e of the school , the one tha t let out behin d the cafeteria. ‘My dad’s picking me up.’

‘Why does he pick you up out there?’ Tina asked, wrinkling her nose. ‘Isn ’t that where all the grease Dumpsters are?’ It always smelled like burned fish sticks in the hallway behind the cafeteria, even when they weren ’t on that day’s menu. Her mother was picking her up at the circular driveway near the front entrance of the school. Tina usually took the bus home after school, but when she stayed later for Glee, she managed to escape that humiliation.

Artie laughed ruefull y. ‘It’s also the only exit with a handi-cap ramp.’ He shrugged. ‘It’s how I always come and go.’

Tina flushed bright red. ‘I’m s-s-sorry,’ she stuttered. She wondered if Artie thought she was a total idiot. She was always saying stupid things around him because she was so used to his being in a wheelchair that she didn ’t even think about it anymore. ‘I didn ’t realize.’

‘No worries.’ Artie waved his hand to show it was no big deal. He was so accustomed to going out the back entrance of the school that the smell of fish sticks didn ’t even bother him. He’d actually never used the front entrance, as it was accessible only by a set of five wide concret e steps that someone would have had to carry him up. But he was used to seeing things from different angles than eve ryone else.

‘Rest your vocal cords tonight. We’ve got a show tomorro w.’

Tina watched Artie wheel away. When she turned around, she was facing a bright yellow sign hanging on the wall:
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CALLING ALL ARTISTS! HOMECOMING DECORATIONS COMMITTEE NEEDS YOUR

HELP. MEETING IN THE GYM TO DISCUSS CREATIVE IDEAS: FRIDAY, DURING

LUNCH .

Tina stared at the poste r, which was surprisingly lame. The only decoration on it was a clip-art paintbrush glued onto the poster board. If the decorations committee was really that unskilled, it definitely could use as many artists as it could get. Maybe because Artie had just called her an amazing artist during Glee Club, she was starting to think she had something artistic to offe r.

Besides, even though Rachel was annoying, what she had said the other day was stuck in Tina’s head. Why shouldn ’t people like her be allowed to get involved in extracurricular activities? The popular kids shouldn ’t have a monopoly on eve rything. She had just as much right as anyone else to work on the decorations.

‘Move it, Goth girl.’ A couple of guys on the swim team brushed past her, their gym bags bumping into her. They reeked of chlorine, and the smell stung Tina’s eyes. Usuall y, she shied away from doing anything that required interaction with other students. That was why, way back in sixth grade, she’d first faked a stutte r. It was her turn to give a presentation on something – the Missouri Compromise –

and she hadn ’t been able to sleep the night before. It was the first time someone had asked her to stand in front of the class and talk – for five minutes, which seemed like an eternity – and it terrified her. When she got to the front of the
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classroom, she pulled aside Mrs Marcy and told her, tearfull y, tha t she couldn ’t do the presentatio n becaus e . . . she was t-t-too ashamed of her s-s-stutte r. If Mrs Marcy hadn ’t noticed the stutter until that point, it wasn ’t really her fault – Tina was already inclined toward silence, and the class had more than thirty-five kids in it.

But the results were phenomenal. Tina had just wanted to get out of one stupid presentation; instead, she was given a virtual free pass for
all
future presentations. When she had to work on group projects, she’d always be the one to do the resea rch while the others presented the results. She started to rely on the stutter as a shield – no one expected her to be socially active with a speech impediment, so she was allowed to become the loner she’d always been, preferring to doodle and sketch instead of talk to other kids. And she’d been fine with that, most of the time. It was easier and safer that way. Recentl y, though, she felt like a hermit crab that was slowly realizing it was time to come out of its shell and stretch its arms out to see what it could do. (Did hermit crabs have arms? Or were they just claws?)

Maybe it was that Glee Club was finally starting to show a glimmer of promise, or maybe it was something in those new multivitamins her mom had started her on, but Tina was feeling . . . unstoppable. Without any second thoughts, she grabbed the Sharpie from her backpack, popped off the cap, and signed her name on the list. She was artistic, and she

knew she could help.

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And maybe, in the back of her mind, she was hoping that this would be the thing that would make Artie want to go to the homecoming dance. Would he be so curious about her decorations that he’d be willing to attend a potentially lame school function? A girl could hope.

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