"Mrs. Librarian Lady-" His voice was borderline desperate.

"She has a name." Hers was way past irritation.

Puck squared his jaw (ignoring his new 'tutor') and placed all of his attention on the older woman," I think there's been a mistake."

"I completely agree with him Mrs. Pete-"

"I beg your pardon?" The elderly librarian's warm smile slowly began to falter as she glanced back and forth between the two disgruntled teens.

"Uhh," Puck thought it had been obvious, "She can't be my tutor. Sh-she..she-"

"Clearly he needs professional help," The young blonde spoke out and flailed her arms in the direction of the Mohawked football player, "He can't even form coherent sentences."

"Miss Fabray," The elder woman stared pointedly at the young blonde and reverted her attention back to Puck, "Mr. Corcoran, I can assure you Miss Fabray is most qualified to tutor you. Not only is she an exemplary student, but she has the highest improvement rates with other students under her guidance."

Puck finally flicked his eyes in her direction, acknowledging Quinns presence for the first time.

So what if she looked extra good today and her hair was doing that thing again. Fuck that.

"But she's younger than me!"

"Mrs. Peterson, Noah is right, I can just-"

"Nonsense." Mrs. Peterson closed her eyes and waved out her palms, shutting the two teens at once. She handed the keys to Quinn and pointed down the hall to the smaller room off to the side.

"Lock up when your done please Quinn dear. You know the drill." Mrs. Peterson slipped a grin, nodded her head and went back to her desk to busy herself with her computer.

Quinn closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. She quietly gathered her books and headed down the hall as Noah just stood in the middle of the room. He was seconds from jetting out the door. McKinley's cheap ass couldn't afford real tutors. So he'd just go and get one on his own. He didn't need Fabra-

"Corcoran?" His thoughts were rudely interrupted by that infamous raised brow, "You coming or what?"

The youngest Corcoran had just finished making a snack for her and her best friend. She knew Kurt wasn't exactly a vegetarian like herself, but who could resist her delicious home made recipe?

Rachel balanced the tray of food and ice cold drinks on both hands as she made her way back up to her room. She very carefully measured her steps and softly made her way her to her door. She was expecting Kurt to be pouring over her laptop, staring at the profile pictures of the Dalton Academy boys. Or see him rummaging through her closet like he usually did. She did not expect to see him sitting at her desk, opened envelope on his lap and holding the contents of whatever laid inside that package.

"KURT! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?" She almost dropped the entire tray. The drinks sloshed around and splashed onto the floor.

Kurt didn't even try to hide, he waved the piece of paper in his hand, a giant smile plastered on his face, "Rachel! You have two first class tickets to New York!" He scanned the contents of the envelope one more time,"Plus broadway tickets to A Gentlemans Guide to Love and Murder. Orchestra Seats! Orchestra! Not to mention a thick wad of spending cash!"

The young brunette marched over and snatched the paper from his hand, "Give that to me right now Kurt Hummel! You had no right!"

Kurt didn't understand. He'd been thrilled when he opened the envelope. He wished it was addressed to him. It might as well have been. The letter specifically asked Rachel to invite her best friend. Duh. That was a no-brainer.

Rachel snatched the contents and shoved them back inside the manila envelope without bothering to read the letter or study the itinerary.

"Why are you mad?! I took the initiative of opening the New York mail for you. I couldn't let you ignore it. It looked too important. You were scared, I could tell but Rachel! Okay...maybe I should've waited so we could open it together... but I saw the address and my fingers couldn't help themselves. We tell each other everything anyway. I mean...why aren't we jumping around your room right now?! Rachel we're going to New York! We're going to a Broadway Show! We're-"

"Im sending it back," Rachel disappeared behind her closet door and reemerged, envelope-less.

Kurt's jaw went slack, "What? Why!?"

"I can't accept that Kurt, any of it. And to tell you the truth, I'm very upset at you for going through my personal things,"

"But Rachel-"

"No, Kurt. You had no business opening that. How would you feel I did that to you?!"

"But we tell each other everything!"

"KIDS!?" A new voice called from downstairs just as the alarm system blurted 'front door open.'

Rachel's eyes widened, a look of pure panic settling across her face as she glanced towards her opened door. The young brunette ran forward and dug her hands onto either side of her best friend shoulders and pleaded desperately, "Kurt, you can't mention this to my mom. Please! Don't say anything about the envelope. To anyone!"

Confusion was written all over her best friends face, not to mention a sliver of guilt, pain and a hint of fear.

There was something very off about all of this. He wanted to ask more, dig further, but Rachel's fingers pressed harder into his skin.

"KURT!" She pleaded.

"Why? Rachel?Whose it from?"

"RACH?! SWEETIE ARE YOU HOME?"

Rachel remained inches away from Kurt's face, fingers digging onto either side of his pale arms as she called out, eyes still locked in place with her best friends, "Coming mom!" She called back down and dropped her voice to a whisper, "Kurt?" Her eyes darted back and forth across his face until she finally saw the look she was anxiously awaiting.

There was nothing but trust and determination staring right back at her.

"I promise."

"Noah cut it out." Quinn ground her teeth upon deaf ears, "NOAH!"

"Puck," He answered icily.

"Fine," She slammed the pencil down on the desk, "Puck. Whatever. Just pay attention. I'm going to go over this one more time."

The only sound that could be heard were the scratches of pen on paper and the thud of Puck's fingers drumming against his knee.

"Okay? Did you see what I did here?"

The Mohawk bobbed once, "I'm not stupid."

"I didn't say you were," Quinn slid the paper and pencil over to the football player.

"Then don't fucking talk to me like I am."

Quinn leapt from her seat, scraping back her chair in quick motion, the sound slicing through the quiet, "I don't have to be here you know! This is a waste of my fucking time. If you don't want to learn or get that football scholarship then that's fine by me. What do I care? I already took my SAT's" The Cheerio snatched all the papers and books from the table and began shoving them into her bag.

"Wait."

She zipped up her issued Cheerleading bag and slung it over her shoulder.

"Fabray, wait, please. Look I'm sorry alright." Puck leapt from his seat and grabbed her shoulder, preventing her from leaving.

"I hate this shit...it frustruates me because all the numbers are like jumbled up and I hate admitting this... I really do, " He took note of how the blonde's features began to soften and her scowl was slowly disappearing, "I'll only say this once Fa- Quinn, But I can use all the help I can get. And if that means help from the Ice Queen herself, I guess I just have to suck it up and-"

"I'm done Puck." Quinn's scowl reappeared as she shimmied from under his hand and pivoted on her heel.

"Chill! I was just messing with you." The football player scrambled forward and intercepted the Blonde before she reached the door, "No Ice Queen references. I get it. But, please? Will you help me?"

Noah could see her eyes in deep concentration and he couldn't help but feel relieved when she unstrapped her bag and walked back over towards the chair.

"Fine. But we do this my way. Got it?"

"Yes Ice...I see. I see. I got it. Yup."

Quinn raised a brow and grit her teeth. " I don't know how San does it."

"Honestly neither do I." Puck always questioned who Santana surrounded herself with, "But why the fuck are we talking about my sister here? Let's get this shit over with already."

They got to work and soon enough, the tiny room filled with silence, you could hear the low humming sound coming off the fluorescent lights hanging on the ceiling. The Cheerleader was surprisingly patient as she waited for him to read over the equation. She could tell he was analyzing the problem and before long, the sounds of Noah's pencil scribbling the paper added to the quiet. She watched as he leaned forward on the desk and frowned in determination, his lips were pulled in tight and his knee began to bounce incessantly. Her eyes roamed over his work, seeing a giant mistake at the beginning. She was about to correct him so he could go back and fix it before he carried on, when he surprised her and flipped his pencil over, rubbing the eraser onto the error.

Noah hated using pencils, and erasers were annoying. He crumpled the page instead and took a shot at the waste basket in the corner.

"Three pointer," he grinned and started again on a brand new sheet. He could feel Quinn's intense gaze and he was thankful she had remained quiet for the most part. Until now.

"Puck..." Quinn whispered so softly, thinking aloud, that Noah barely heard her over his pencil scratches. He stopped scribbling and looked up.

"What?"

"You know I never asked this question before..but where exactly did you get that name from?!" The blonde cheerleader began playing with her fingers on the table, twisting them, thinking aloud, "I mean, I doubt you've read Shakespeare...there's no way in hell you decided to name yourself after that character even if it does suit you."

Puck blinked twice letting Quinns vapid words sink before he spoke up.

"Shakespeare stole my name?!"

"Why do I even bother? No, he did not steal your name, Noah...you stole his..Midsummer Nights Dream?! Ever heard of it? Probably not." The blonde found herself checking her words, using every ounce of strength she possessed to keep from calling Noah Corcoran any word associated with idiot, stupid or moron. She had a list of words waiting patiently at the gate, ready to be whipped in his direction but she chose to replace them. She held herself back.

"Hey hey hey climb off your high cow little country blondie, I know Shakespeare. I've watched Romeo and Juliet before...that chick was hot."

Quinn rolled her eyes.

"But for your information, I picked up the name from playing hockey."

"Hockey?"

"Yeah Miss Know-it-all. That game you play on the ice with sticks and a little black puck."

"I know what Hockey is Noah, I just never knew you played." She shot back with gritted teeth and put her strength to good use one more time.

"Well I promise you there's a lot you dont know bout me Fabray."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah." Puck went back to working on the equation and the room was plunged into silence once more.

"I played," He stopped scratching his pencil, " And I was pretty dam good too. You know for a kid. I went to a Rangers game once and I became obsessed with the sport." Just like that his mind flashed the memory for him.

New York City 2002

"Dad!" The nine year old ran after his father, jumping along next to him as they wound their way through the Central Park trails. The sun had already gone down. It had been getting darker, earlier. The sky was purple, a hint of orange framed the bare trees through the almost empty park.

His dad was dressed in his best formal attire. They had gone to dinner at Tavern on the Green, he didn't really care about the food. It was icky. But his little sisters loved that place for some reason. So did his Uncle Ram and Uncle Leroy.

Dinner was kind of weird. Noah had almost forgot about everything that happened earlier but his mom and dad kept making weird faces at each other over the dinner table.

He was nine years old. He could pick up on those things. He wasn't a little kid anymore, he was a big kid.

Rachel and San were still babies. Not him. That's why they were trailing behind and walking with their mom.

He and his dad were the only ones walking ahead. He could tell something was bothering his dad though. Maybe that's why he was so angry earlier.

Maybe something happened that got him mad? Maybe something made him sad. Sometimes, when he was sad, he got mad. Like in school the other day, he asked Lisa Gray if she could be his girlfriend.

Noah had only asked because she was the prettiest girl in his whole entire grade and Anton was going to beat him to it. He couldn't let Anton win. So he asked Lisa during recess, on the swings, in front of everybody. But she said no.

She said no!

He didn't think she would say no. He had heard from Ali, that Lisa told Stephanie she liked him. So when she told him No, he got sad. But he couldn't show it. So instead he got real mad.

He called her a mean name and made her cry.

See, he was a big kid now. He understood these things. His dad was probably real sad about something. And he didn't want his dad to be mad anymore. So he kept trying to talk about stuff that made him happy.

Like the Rangers.

"Dad! You missed my practice yesterday. You promised you would make it." Noah was practically skipping, trying to stay in step with Robert.

"Hmm? Sorry Bud, something came up at work." His father was fiddling with the antenna on his bulky black cell phone. He wouldn't look up.

So the nine year old tried getting his attention again.

"I scored ten goals yesterday!"

"Wow." Robert's attention remained trained on the phone.

"Yeah! And I played right winger and right defensemen and goalie! I played all positions Dad! You missed it! Coach even gave me a new nickname."

"Really bud," Robert began listening to his messages.

"Wanna hear it?" Noah tugged onto the sleeve of his father's winter coat, "Dad?"

"Hmm?"

"Wanna hear it! Coach called me Puck! He said because I'm good with the puck. I can do anything with it."

The nine year old jumped in front of his dad and acted everything out, "I can shoot it, stop it and even catch it."

Robert deleted a message from his phone and cursed under his breath.

"Dad?"

"Yeah son." His eyes flicked up for a second.

"Did you hear what I said?! I have a new nickname! It's Puck!"

"Yeah, yeah thats awesome bud." He ruffled Noah's hair and managed to put on a smile. Noah picked up his pace tugged on the sleeve again.

His plan was working.

"Can we go see the Ranger's play again. Or maybe even the Islanders. Please? They both play tonight!"

"Don't think so bud."

"How come?"

They had made it to the end of the park and were standing at the edge of the sidewalk. Traffic zoomed by, the city was bathed in a beautiful warm yellow glow against the cold wind that whipped their faces.

It was like magic.

They waited for the light to change so they could walk across the street. Shelby and the girls were trailing behind them but had finally managed to catch up.

"Mommy can we go to the movies?!" Santana tugged on her mothers hand and glanced over to look at her little sister, "Rae you wanna see a movie right?" She spoke sweetly and gently but the little girl didn't answer. "Rae?"

Shelby scooped up her youngest daughter and cradled her against her chest, "Not tonight baby. I think Rachel's tired. We're going home."

"Dad and I are going to a Rangers game." Noah stated matter of factly and jutted out his chin.

"No, Noah."

"How come Dad?" They would have fun. They always had fun there. Just the two of them. His dad would forget all about being sad or angry.

"Because I already told you no. Not tonight."

"But why not!?"

"Noah, honey, it's late. You have school tomorrow. Another day." Shelby fixed the unruly hair on her son's head. He was definitely due for a cut soon.

"But, Dad!? Let's go! Call Jim. He can get us seats. It's not too late. Come on!" He tugged onto his father's hand and pointed south, his finger magically locating Madison Square Garden through the trees of Central Park, buildings of midtown and all that traffic.

"I SAID NO NOAH! WHAT ARE YOU STUPID?! WHAT PART OF NO DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND!" Robert roared in the middle of the street. Noah recoiled.

Santana pressed herself into her mother's leg. Rachel began shaking and crying into Shelby's chest.

Shelby stood in shock.

Mouth open.

Robert's face had morphed into one of pure and utter anger, but ugly realization began morphing it back.

"Noah, He smoothed his hand over his hair and pocketed his phone," When I say No, It means no." He took a step toward his son but Noah backed away and fell into his mother.

Rachel kept crying.

Noah's plan didn't work. He had failed. He only wanted to make his Dad feel better. Not see him mad. Especially not mad at him. He didn't do anything. He didn't.

A warm small hand slinked it's way into his and San's fingers squeezed his hard.

"Shel." Robert stepped forward.

"Strike two. I'm taking the kids home."

They walked across the street where their driver was waiting for them. His mom opened the car for them and motioned for him and San to get in. She placed Rachel in his arms and closed the door.

"Noah," Santana spoke and pressed herself into his side but he shushed her so he could hear what their Mom and Dad were saying.

Their voices were muffled, but he could just make out, "I don't know what has gotten into you. I really don't. But you better get your act together. Fast. Let that be the last time you ever do that. The kids and I are leaving. You can find your way home on you own."

"Shel I'm sorry,"

"I'm not the one you should be apologizing to."

The door opened and Robert bend down, "Noah,"

He didn't have a chance to say anything, even if he wanted to. The door shut his father out.

"Noah."

...

..

.

"Noah?" The blonde cheerleader was studying his face intently. He had zoned out there for a minute and mentally cursed his brain for bringing all that shit up.

Quinn was giving him this look, what was he saying before?

"Uh yeah. So anyway, I joined a travel hockey team." He bit the inside of his cheek and bounced both legs, trying to act unfazed under her gaze.

"I had some sweet moves on the ice, " He flashed his best smirk, stopped bouncing his leg and leaned forward, "They said I had a way with the puck and I always had one on me. The nickname just stuck I guess." He wondered at that exact moment, how his old coach was doing?

"Why didn't you ever play for our team here then?"

"Psht are you kidding me? This team is a joke. I could skate circles around those figure skaters. Besides all my friends did football here. I played hockey first, yeah, but I fell hard for football."

"We are still talking about the sport right?"

"Yes, Lucy," He wanted to see her scowl and was pleased with himself when he accomplished his goal.

The Cheerio straightened up and slammed her palm onto the table, tapping the paper, " Well then hurry up and finish Puck so I can get out of here already. I'm supposed to meet San and Britt after this."

"Fine."

As if on cue, the blondes phone rang and he saw his sister's face flash across her screen.

"You gonna get that?"

"I don't like answering calls when I'm in a session." She fiddled with the phone.

"It's Santana, you can answer." He waved his hand.

Quinn slid her finger over the screen and brought the phone up to her ear. Puck could hear his sister's voice clearly as if the call were on speaker.

"Quinnifer! Are you done already?! Britts and I are starving. Bitches gotta eat."

Puck snorted as he scratched out the last step to the problem and slid the paper over to the Cheerio.

"Hey S, you'll never guess who I'm with."

"Who?"

"SUP STAN!" Puck spoke into the mouthpiece as Quinn looked over the equation.

He had done it.

It was all written out neatly and most importantly, it was correct.

"What the actual fuck! She's your tutor!? You haven't killed each other?! Are you two done?! Could you hurry the hell up, we're starving."

"Yeah we're done. I'll meet you in the parking lot."

She closed the call and they both shook their heads.

"She's your sister.

"She's your best friend."

"This is right by the way." Quinn tapped her pen onto the paper and twitched one corner of her mouth upwards into a barely-there grin. Not a smile, not even a full blown grin, just a sliver of acknowledgement.

"I know. So, we're done here right?" Puck stood up and stretched out his arms in an exaggerated motion.

"For now," Quinn began packing everything away, "Yeah."

"Same time same place tomorrow Corcoran."

"Yeah, yeah. Don't forget to lock up Fabray, you don't want Betty White over there to go all crazy on you." Puck shouldered his bookbag and Quinn's face melted into an actual grin.

"Her name is Mrs. Peterson, " she shook her head and bit her lip, attempting to stifle the smile was threatening to reveal itself.

She was failing miserably.

"You have to admit, she looks like Betty White." They two exited the small room. Quinn shut the lights and jiggled the keys in the doorknob.

"Stop, Noah," Quinn lightly shoved her elbow into him and she walked back to Mrs. Peterson and placed the keys on her desk. The old lady glanced up behind her thick glasses and smiled warmly at the two.

"Well, I see we made progress today."

The two teens darted their eyes at each other.

"See you darlings tomorrow." Her high cheeks crinkled the skin around her eyes, the smile never leaving her face as she watched them exit the room, "Oh to be young again."

AN: So what do you my lovely readers think of this chapter?!

It's coming along. I do want to finish this story. I owe it to the Corcorans to finish it ;)

Also, Thank you to everyone who has reviewed! Your reviews are like little presents, encouraging me to continue with this story. Shoutout to my guestreviewers, international readers and loyal reviewers/readers who have been there since day 1...3 years ago lol. Lots of love to you all! I promise to respond to my reviewers next chapter!

Hope you enjoyed! Until next time! :D