New Directions

"OK, everyone! Sit down and listen up, because we've got a new number to learn!"

Mr. Schuester had been working on the arrangement to this song for a while now--it's definitely much different than any other rock song.

Once everyone is seated, he starts handing out the music to "Bohemian Rhapsody".

"Many thanks to Benjamin Parsons for the idea...I think this could definitely be a memorable song for us."

Monday after school, after running a few lines with Rachel, Mercedes was... understandably.. a little uptight. Every single nuance of every single word... Picked apart. Dissected.

Practice ended early, or else.. Cedes was gonna kill the girl.

Her bag hoisted over one shoulder, she headed down the near deserted hallway toward the stairwell that led to the football field exits behind the school: it was just an easier place for her Dad to swing by and pick her up, so it was the common rendezvous spot.

The cutest silver flats tapped lightly as she made her way down the stairs, one hand on the railing while the other held her phone up to a legible level: the pad of her thumb at work sending a quick text. She should've been paying closer attention.

"Well, perfect timing!"

Stopped in her tracks right on the middle landing of the stairs, blocking her path to the final flight were two jacketed juniors, Smith and Kapowski. The ladder palmed a big-gulp grape Slushie, and both were grinning in that way that could only be described as 'lizzard like'.

Mercedes's first reaction was qualmed by the tighter grip on the railing. Second reaction, not so hindered. "Hell. No." It was as much a warning to them as their shared look was to her. Not intimidated? Fine. She'll gladly continue.

"You throw that on me, White Boy, Ima make you eat that Styrofoam cup."

( Does your mother know that you're out? )