“Is that really fair?” Mrs. Iggulden whispered back, sounding slightly aghast. Rachel stopped in her tracks, straining to hear every word.
“Using the funds? Sure.” Coach Sylvester was wearing a black tracksuit. “The money goes straight back to the Cheerios’ tanning fund, anyway. It’s a win-win.”
Rachel’s hands started to shake. She knew Coach Sylvester was shady, but this was egregious. She’d bought votes for the election? Everything was rigged—the homecoming race, the Fall in Love with Music recital. But instead of making her want to pull out her hair and transfer to another school, this time the wrongness of it inspired her. She was going to show them.
“And the winners are Quinn Fabray and Finn Hudson,” Brittany announced, forgetting to open the sealed envelope with the results in it. The entire gymnasium burst into applause as Quinn and Finn, who were strategically standing near the stage, headed up the steps and approached the microphone. The football players made whoop-whoop noises and pumped their fists enthusiastically in the air. Principal Figgins appeared onstage holding a plastic rhinestone tiara and crown.
Quinn felt like everything was moving in slow motion. All evening, people had been telling her they’d voted for her and Finn, so she wasn’t totally surprised to hear Brittany announce her name. But she was surprised at how good it felt to walk up onstage to thundering applause, with everyone staring at her and all the girls wishing they could be her. She’d never felt such unadulterated power before, and she felt slightly dizzy with the realization that she was the most important girl at McKinley High. And Finn, her tall and handsome, if slightly blockheaded, date, was at her side.
It was more than she had dreamed of. It was absolutely perfect.
“Congratulations.” As she leanedñ Asfont Cean forward slightly to enable Principal Figgins to place the tiara on her head and heard the snap of cell phone cameras taking her picture, she felt a smile—the first real smile of the night—slowly spreading across her face.
“Lean over, please,” Figgins instructed Finn, who towered over the principal. Finn awkwardly bent his knees and let Figgins place the crown on his head. Quinn, beaming at the crowd, felt her eyes linger on someone who had appeared near the center of the room.
It was Puck. His eyes locked with hers across the room. In his black suit and black dress shirt, no tie, he looked handsome in a rakish, dangerous way. Quinn still felt her knees wobble slightly as she thought of what had happened the other night, but something besides sexual tension passed between their eyes. As Santana clung to Puck’s arm and Finn put his hand on Quinn’s waist, an unspoken understanding passed between them.
This is how it should be. This is what she had always wanted. What she wanted now. To be onstage with her male counterpart, poised to reign over the school. She was the good girl. She was the homecoming queen, and now she had to act the part.
And there was no room for Puck.
As she pressed her cheek to Finn’s, she knew this was for the best. Puck was just a little temporary insanity—perhaps something with the moon cycles—but now she was back where she belonged. She breathed a sigh of relief.
Once the royalty had been crowned, the DJ started spinning music again. After a slow dance to celebrate the coronation, the music switched to faster tunes that everyone could dance to. The party started pumping.
“Is it time yet?” Mercedes asked, smoothing her skirt. “I’m ready to kick it.”
Kurt rolled his eyes. He was still watching Finn and Quinn awkwardly attempt to dance while talking to the gaggle of people who had rushed up to congratulate them. “Please. Let’s do it soon. I can’t take much more of the popular kids kissing each other’s asses.”
“It’s now or never,” Artie agreed.
“Wish me luck!” Rachel said brightly as she strode over to the DJ table. The DJ was a skinny guy in his mid-twenties with a goatee and greasy hair pulled into a ponytail. A ponytail? Really? Weren’t those just for girls again? When Rachel got to the booth, she leaned forward and smiled at the DJ. “You’re doing a really super job tonight.”
The DJ blinked, as if he wasn’t used to having girls talk to him. “You think?” He leaned forward to hear Rachel over the music.
“Definitely.” Rachel blinked her eyelashes seductively at him. She was not a fan of heavy makeup, but she was grateful she’d applied an extra coat of mascara. The DJ seemed mesmerized by her eyes. “What’s your name?” She stared at the mole on his cheek so that her eyes wouldn’t look at Kurt and Tina, who had sneaked behind him. They peered into a couple of boxes before pulling out five wireless microphones.
“Ricky,” he said, coughing into his hand. His skin was unnaturally pale, as if he’d spent his life underground. “Can I… do you want me to play a song for you?”
“Yes,” Rachel answered, smiling.
Two minutes later, the first notes of Lady Gaga’s “Just Dance” pulsed through the sound system, and the kids went wild. Even people who had been lingering along the sidelines stepped out onto the floor and started to move to the music. Everyone except Kurt, who was crouched behind the DJ booth. The other Glee kids had slowly moved to the floor in front of the stage, each holding a microphone at his or her side. Finally, just when the song started to really heat up, Kurt plucked the plug from the receiver and scooted out onto the dance floor before Ricky could see what happened.
The music jerked to a stop. “What the hell?” someone cried, and other kids booed and jeered until they started to hear something. A quiet gradually fell over the room. Someone was singing.
The Glee kids sang, picking up exactly where the song had left off. People standing near the front of the gym stepped back to give room to the kids with microphones, and people at the back of the crowd pushed forward to see who was singing. After a few moments of awe, all the kids in the room started tapping their feet and dancing, as if the change were intentional. A couple of them cheered.
Rachel’s face burned with excitement as she sang, feeding on the stares of the crowd. They sounded incredible, she could tell already. Maybe it was the song, or maybe they just needed to be relaxed.
Or maybe they’d realized they could lose what they had in Glee if they didn’t sing their hearts out.
Ricky the DJ quickly brought in an awesome beat to back them up, and even the chaperones found themselves tapping their feet to the music. Mr. Schuester, who had been enduring an excruciating conversation with Ken Tanaka about athlete’s foot, was blown away. Who were these kids? Not only were they talented but they were bold, shaking up the staid old homecoming dance with their little impromptu concert.
“These kids have a lot of potential,” Mr. Schuester said to Ken.
“I guess.” The coach tugged at his belt. His dress shorts were a little too tight, and he felt uncomfortable in a room full of kids who weren’t wearing gym clothes.
Mr. Schuester wasn’t the only person who was impressed....
Quinn glanced at Finn, who seemed completely entranced by the performance. She followed his gaze to the figure of Rachel Berry, who was waltzing across the floor as if she owned it. Where the hell did they even get microphones from?
“This is not part of the scheduled programming,” Quinn spat out, annoyed. Tonight was supposed to be her night, and now Rachel Berry and her loser friends were spinning things out of control.
Finn could barely hear Quinn over the music and the foot-thumping from the crowd. “They’re pretty good, right?” He was thinking mostly of Rachel, though, who was going back and forth with the microphone like a real p M€like a rÃal erformer. She sounded better than Lady Gaga, and she didn’t look nervous at all. She just looked like she was having a really great time.
Quinn’s eyes narrowed. “If you like that kind of thing,” she said. Which she didn’t. She really didn’t.
Her words were drowned out by the explosion of applause.
twenty-five
Principal Figgins’s office, Monday morning
On Monday mor
ning, the Glee kids were called out of homeroom into Mr. Figgins’s office. The weekend had been the exact opposite of the previous weekend, after their humiliating performance at the recital. Now, instead of being humiliated, they were completely elated, and the other Glee members had felt a burst of generosity toward Rachel. Even when she was quick to claim credit for the idea and their shot at redemption, they couldn’t really hate her for bragging, even though it drove Mercedes crazy to admit it.
Tina, Kurt, Mercedes, and Rachel all crowded around Principal Figgins’s desk. Artie couldn’t fit past the armchairs and had to sit right inside the doorway. Coach Sylvester, in a royal-blue-and-yellow tracksuit, was standing off to the side, leaning against a radiator.
Rachel cleared her throat. Why was Coach Sylvester here, anyway? She didn’t see why the Glee kids should be in any sort of trouble, but she was confident she could lead Glee out of it. In fact, she was confident about everything today. The homecoming dance could not have been more of a success, and all kinds of students had come up to the Glee kids after they had finished singing to tell them how awesome they were. Even though the Cheerios and football players pretended nothing had happened, Rachel could tell they were furious.
Which just made it all that much sweeter.
“I’ve called you here to talk about what happened at the homecoming dance on Friday,” Principal Figgins announced in his typical weary-sounding voice. He glanced at Coach Sylvester. “Some people have, ahem, taken offense at your performance.”
“But we sounded magical,” Kurt said. The last time he had been called to Principal Figgins’s office was after he’d been tied to the top of the goalpost during an outdoor gym class. He’d been unable to identify the perpetrators, since he’d kept his eyes closed the whole time.
“If what you mean by magical is disrespectful, atrocious, horrifying, then, yes, you sounded magical.” Two tiny beads of spittle clung to the corners of Coach Sylvester’s mouth.
Principal Figgins held up a hand to silence Coach Sylvester. “In cases of disturbance like this, I just like to call in the students themselves and ask them to explain what happened.”
“I’ll tell you what happened.” Coach Sylvester sneered. “These little Mouseketeers interrupted one of the most important rituals of a girl’s high school career by jumping out on the floor in the middle of the homecoming dance and pulling a stunt like that. Acting like transvestites? Di”€nsvestiteÆsgraceful.” She shook her head in disgust. “I don’t know how poor Quinn Fabray cried herself to sleep after you so brutally destroyed her night.”
“Principal Figgins, we didn’t do our performance until after the king and queen’s special dance was over, I swear.” Rachel tried not to look at Coach Sylvester, who she suspected would not be afraid to punch her if they ever happened to walk down an empty hallway together.
“That sort of excuse didn’t work for the Nazis.” Coach Sylvester looked at Principal Figgins for support, but he just indicated to Rachel that she should keep explaining. He wished he were out golfing.
“Look, we only did it because we were virtually forced to. Glee Club has practically no opportunities to perform, because there’s no money in the school budget for us. And Mr. Ryerson’s never around to help.” Rachel tucked her hair behind her ears. Tina gave her a small smile to keep her motivated. She felt good representing the other Glee kids to Principal Figgins, especially as she knew the two of them had a special relationship.
“But you performed at the Fall in Love with Music recital.” Principal Figgins stared out the window at the giant lawn mower that was speeding back and forth over the front lawn. He wondered who was behind the wheel. Probably that horrible Hank guy the city had sent over.
“Yes, but we were sabotaged by the Cheerios, who gave us a faulty fog machine that they had already tried to use and knew was dysfunctional.” Rachel’s voice became even more passionate as she spoke about the ways she’d been wronged.
Principal Figgins blinked. “Is that true, Sue? Were the Cheerios responsible for the fog machine? I had three parents go to the school nurse’s office for smoke inhalation!”
“I doubt my girls had anything to do with that.” Coach Sylvester sniffed. “They’ve been far too concerned with perfecting their routines for cheer regionals to have time to bother with immature high jinks with these Glee kids.”
“Speaking of high jinks, Coach Sylvester,” Rachel began, feeling her chest well up with the anticipation of triumph, “I happened to overhear you telling Mrs. Iggulden that you personally made sure that your head Cheerio, Quinn Fabray, and her boyfriend won the election by ‘buying’ two hundred votes.”
“You can’t vote in the homecoming election, Sue. You’re not even a student here!” Principal Figgins was never surprised at Coach Sylvester’s actions, though this time she seemed to have crossed the line. She was always pulling stunts like this. It was only because the Cheerios had won so many championships that he even put up with her. “Explain yourself.”
Kurt nudged Mercedes in the ribs. This was delicious.
Coach Sylvester’s face froze. She was not used to being challenged, not even by Figgins, and especially not in front of a group of singing losers. “In order to maintain the moral structure that teenagers need—”
Principal Figgins cut her off. “In order to maintain the moral structure that teenagers need, we as administrators need to set a good example.” The last thing he wanted to do, however, was have another homecoming election because one of his staff had corrupted this oneœ€upted thiË on. That would be too much of a headache. “As a compromise to this problem, I suggest that the homecoming results stand. From what I’ve heard, Sue, your contribution was not even necessary. Everyone loves Quinn and Finn.” He shrugged. Finn Hudson was a nice boy, and Quinn Fabray seemed like a model student, except for her insistence that he let her start the Celibacy Club. “And all the funds the Cheerios raised from the voting booth will go directly to Glee Club.”
“This will not stand.” Coach Sylvester’s face went ashen. “Those funds are to be funneled directly to the Cheerios’ tanning fund. You have got to be kidding me.”
“I’m not kidding, Sue.” Principal Figgins stood up. He was ready for them all to leave his office.
Coach Sylvester’s eyes looked like they were about to pop out of their sockets, but she made a relatively graceful exit. “Okay, but I’m going to the parents about this. We can’t win state with a bunch of albinos.” She gave Rachel a demonic glare, as if to say she wasn’t done with her yet. Without another word, the coach disappeared into the hallway, kicking the secretary’s garbage can for good measure on the way out.
The Glee kids beamed. It was almost too good to be true. “Thank you, Principal Figgins, for your true understanding of fairness.” Rachel loved the smell of victory in the air.
Principal Figgins spoke up before Rachel Berry could keep babbling. “Yes, yes. But no more unplugging expensive sound equipment. I don’t need another lawsuit on my hands.”
The rest of them thanked Principal Figgins and left the office quickly, not wanting to give him time to change his mind.
“I can’t believe it,” Tina whispered as they tiptoed away from the office. “Did that really just happen? We’re going to get some funding?”
“It’s a start, at least,” Rachel declared. She was envisioning piles of sheet music, elaborate costumes, and state-of-the-art sound equipment. Or maybe what they really needed first was a faculty adviser, someone who could guide them to become better singers and performers. Or maybe they needed T-shirts!
“You were really cool in there, Rachel,” Artie said, adjusting his tie. “The way you stood up to Figgins and Coach Sylvester like that.” He could see how her persistence would, in situations like these, come in handy.
“I suggest we all celebrate our latest victory with virgin mimosas.” Kurt clapped his hands together. “Who’s in?”
Everyone agreed except Rachel, who had glanced down the hall to see F
inn Hudson hovering near the water fountain, pretending to take a drink of water. She could see the spray of water missing his mouth by several inches. Was he… waiting to talk to her? “I’ll be there in a minute,” Rachel said, smoothing her pleated gray skirt. “I’ve got to get something from my locker.”
As soon as the Glee kids walked away, Finn stood up and wiped his mouth. He glanced around him to see if any of his football buddies were in sight, and then he felt a stab of guilt. Why did he care who they saw him talking to? It was so stupid. He could do whatever he wanted. He was homecoming king, after all.
WÝ€nt size=“Ë”>With that, he walked over to Rachel, who was fumbling through her backpack, pretending to look for something.
“Hey, Rachel.” Finn’s tongue felt fat in his mouth, like the time he’d knocked down a bees’ nest with a baseball bat and they’d all swarmed him. He got kind of nervous talking to Rachel—she just seemed so smart, if a little insane.
“Hi, Finn.” Rachel straightened up and smiled at him. She thought he was sort of like a hermit crab, reluctant to leave his shell. He just needed some coaxing from her. “Congratulations on winning the coveted position of homecoming king.”
“Oh, yeah. Thanks.” Finn shook his head. It seemed silly for her to be congratulating him when all he’d done was walk up onstage and let Figgins put a crown on his head, which had been kind of awkward. Rachel was the one who’d managed to put on an awesome spontaneous performance at the dance with her geeky but talented friends, and the whole school had loved it. It would be nice to do something creative like that. Quinn, meanwhile, had fumed the whole way home and wouldn’t even consider the hot-tub idea after that. “I just heard this kind of rumor about you?”
“That’s not true,” Rachel replied hotly. “I have never dated something with four legs.”
“No, not that one.” Finn ran his hand across his head. “That you were, maybe, transferring to some fancy arts school?”
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