Suffering Enough for Everyone

Damian Joseph McGinty, Jr. stars as Damian Doherty, Jr.
Samuel Peter Acosta Larsen stars as Samuel Petersen.
Lindsay Pearce stars as Lindsay Phelps.
George Alexander Newell stars as Alexander Newton.
Hannah McIalwain stars as Hannah Kelly.
Robert Cameron Mitchell stars as Cameron Michaels.
Marissa Alyce Marie von Bleicken stars as Marissa von Richter.
Matheus Fernandes stars as Matheus Ferreira.
McKynleigh Abraham stars as McKynleigh Washington.
Emily Vasquez stars as Emily Martinez.
Ellis Wylie stars as Ellis Young.
Bryce Ross-Johnson stars as Bryce Carlton-Smith.

Chapter 1: Algebra and Geometry

It is hard to convince a high-school student that he will encounter a lot of problems more difficult than those of algebra and geometry.
-Edgar W. Howe

McKinley High was a jungle. Damian should have seen it coming. It was barbaric, high school was, with all the insane melodrama. He'd barely been there an hour, and the noisy chatter of students, devoid of the Irish lilt, was harsh and grating to his ears. It was difficult for him to weave through the crowded hallways, and he only barely managed to stumble into the administrative offices in the school. He filled up the necessary forms and passed it to the secretary at the desk.

"Transfer student?"

"Aye," Damian nodded, still rather shaken up by how different and foreign everything seemed, when the truth was that he was the foreigner here.

The lady at the desk who spoke to him raised an eyebrow, and Damian smiled beatifically at her.

"You're a strange one," she remarked, shaking her head of blonde curls. "Then again, you're not from around here, are you? Foreign exchange?"

"From Ireland, really," Damian nodded. "America's so different."

"I'll bet it is," the lady muttered. "I ought to ask one of the students in your grade to show you around. You're a sophomore, aren't you?" At Damian's blank face, she sighed and added, "Tenth grade?"

Damian's face broke into a wide smile of relief. "Yes."

"Well, I should think everyone's in class now, so I'm afraid you'll have to make your way through by yourself," she gave him an apologetic look. "McKinley High may look huge, but it's not that big, not really. It just looks huge because everyone is a sea of mediocre students just drifting in and out of the hallways. Mediocrity can be overwhelming and inescapable. You're bound to stand out, by virtue of being different."

"Eh, how bad can it be?" He managed an affable smile. "Anyway, thank you for your help –" he glanced at her nametag, and added, "Ms. Anders. Cheers!" And with a small wave, he headed back into the corridor, mentally preparing himself for the onslaught of students and willing himself not to be pushed along with the flow.

Thankfully, by then the students had disappeared into their classrooms, and Damian found himself in an empty hallway.

For all Ms. Anders told him that McKinley was not what they would call a large school, it was relatively easy enough to get lost in it.

"Why doesn't the school come with a map?" he grumbled, under his breath, his temper growing short. He was normally placid – for an Irish guy, at least – but he hated being tardy. He didn't think the teachers would be pleased either, and he would rather not risk their ire or draw attention to himself any more than possible. Somehow, from what Ms. Anders said, it seemed to him that being different would get you picked on.

(While he didn't consider himself short or undersized by any standard, he didn't like the fact that he could be a target for bullies. Not that he'd actually ever been bullied before, but it would probably be uncomfortable to start being bullied now.)

He made a left turn towards a row of classrooms, only to hear banging in one of the lockers. Approaching closer, he thought he heard the door rattle and a small voice crying for help from within.

It seemed impossible… but was there a person who was stuck inside the locker?

"Hello? Who's there?"

The locker stopped shaking. "Did someone just say something?" Nervous laughter rang out. "Heheh, I'm going crazy now, I'm going crazy, I thought I heard someone say something but I can't understand what for the love of –"

"Eh? No, I'm a real person. I'm new actually. Damian Doherty. And you –?"

"Stuck in a locker, what do you think?" the voice snapped. Then, drawing in a deep breath, the voice sighed and apologized. "Sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to snap at you. It's just that I'm –"

"Stuck in a locker for God-knows-how-long, and it's dark and uncomfortable," Damian nodded affably. "How in God's name did you manage to end up inside anyway? I think only a munchkin could fit inside there."

There was an uncomfortable silence before the voice added dryly, "You'll understand when I get out of here. Could you find someone who could help me out of here?"

"Who should I ask?"

"I don't know, somebody!" the voice fain yelled at him. Then, taking several more breaths, he said, "I'm sorry. Again. But I think I'm developing a severe case of claustrophobia and I might have a nervous breakdown here. Usually Samuel helps me out, being the juvenile delinquent wannabe that he is, but for some reason, he's not around. For some reason, he has the master-keys for nearly every lock around here. He's probably lounging about in the drama room or something, just when I needed him. Huh," the voice added. "I'm Matheus, by the way."

"Heh, nice to meet you. I'll go toddle along, see if I can find anyone. Any requests on who I should find?"

"Preferably Samuel, since he's a student as well. We're near the arts' classrooms, he might be around here somewhere. Or if not him, well… There's no one else, really. Maybe Ms. Pillsbury, she's the school shrink – although, if you ask me, she's the one in need of professional help. I'd rather not tell a teacher – that way the whole school will know and everyone will make fun of me."

"Got it. Any word on how this Samuel guy looks like?"

"Like I said, bad boy wannabe. He dresses like a delinquent, plays the brooding bad boy part well with the dreadlocks and squinty-eye stare that nearly all the girls fawn over – though for my part, I can't see the attraction – and yeah. Just look for dreads and squinty-eyes that girls seem to mistake for 'intense'."

Damian raised his eyebrows. "Well, all right then. Be back as soon as I can!"

It didn't take long to identify Samuel, Damian thought. As he peeked into each classroom, he tried spotting a guy with dreadlocks. He'd look into classrooms with actual lessons going on, just in case he'd have to make up some excuse to grab the guy, but he didn't have to. Not too minutes later, he saw a guy fitting Matheus' description, playing a guitar, just strumming the cords and humming under his voice in one of the empty classrooms.

"You're Samuel, aren't you?" he asked the guy once he stopped. Said guy with dreadlocks simply shrugged.

"Yeah, but I don't think I've met you?"

"No, but Matheus asked me to get you. I was trying to find my classroom and I got lost and I heard him banging the locker door."

"And he trusted you, a newbie, with the secret?"

"Hey, there wasn't anyone else around!" Damian pointed out good-naturedly. "Only a damned Irish kid with no idea of what was going on! I guess this happens often, eh?"

Instead of answering, Samuel gave a bemused smile as they walked into the corridor. "Irish, huh? Guess that explains the accent. Good luck. The girls are either going to be fangirls or think you're a freak. I'm not quite sure which. You play any sports?"

"Eh, not really. Used to like football, played in school a while when I was younger, but then every Irish kid did anyway. Nah, I preferred music. Joined a band, did tours, then quit and moved here when my Da got a job here. I was – am – the only one at school, so they thought it was all right to move here. My siblings are still in Derry, though. Going to university there."

"We should jam sometimes, if you're up for it. McKinley isn't really much good. Except for the cheerleaders. But they're a different league entirely. Though I don't know – you'd think Becky would be an improvement over Quinn or Santana, but no, she's Sue Sylvester's shadow. Not many girls in our grade are in the Cheerios, but those who are – well, they like the hierarchy."

"The hierarchy?"

"Yep," Samuel added. "Oh please, I'm sure you had the same high school drama as we did here. There's a group of people at the top, and then there are those at the bottom. By virtue of being who they are, the cheerleaders and jocks are at the top, followed by other famous people in the school, such as the student council, then there's a sea of nobody-specials who have friends and then those who don't quite fit in, even if they've more talent in their pinky finger than you'd do in your entire body."

A quizzical eyebrow went up. "This from personal experience?"

"Nah, from simple observation. I don't stay around long enough to let the guys know where I am. It doesn't matter anyway, most people think I'm badass because of my tattoos. They think I got landed in juvie and became a born-again or something."

"And are you?"

"No," Samuel said shortly, before stopping at one of the lockers. "Hey Matheus, you in there?"

"Samuel? Oh good, the Irish newbie was telling the truth. Thank God you're around."

Samuel exhaled and produced a bunch of keys from one of his pockets, examining each one seriously until he eventually chose one and inserted it in the lock of the padlook. Squinting in concentration, he carefully removed the padlock, but kept the door shut, saying, "All right, Matheus, I'm not going to open the locker so quickly. I'm going to count to three, and then I'll open carefully, and you'd better not be banging against the locker because I don't want to be a trampoline, OK?"

"FINE!" Matheus yelled. "JUST HURRY UP!"

"Jesus, I'm doing you a favor, you'd think you'd be more appreciative," Samuel berated him.

"I'm sorry," came the reply.

"Yeah, yeah, one… two… three!"

And Matheus rolled out of the locker, landing right on top of a groaning, obviously-in-pain Samuel. "Sorry Samuel."

"Dear lord, are both of you OK?" Damian bent down and offered his two hands – one to Samuel and one to Matheus, who had just tumbled out of the locker. At first glance, Matheus was short… very short. More than a foot shorter than him. And there was something about him that seemed different.

"You'd think that they'd get over throwing kids in lockers and port-a-potties and rubbish bins," Samuel said wryly. "It's too bad that you can't act all divo on them."

"I'm not a divo!" Matheus fumed.

"Anyway, now that we've got this all put past us, I need to find where my homeroom is, so if you can help me get there, I'd really appreciate it," Damian grinned, defusing the situation.

"What grade are you in anyway?" Samuel asked.

"10th grade."

"So you're a sophomore like Matheus. Huh. Well, have fun then."

"I'm not following."

"I tend to skive off class. I'm not the good Catholic boy here. If you want to meet a nice, good, Christian boy, you should talk to Cameron. He's the well-adjusted one without issues. Anyway, best of luck, bro. I hope you don't need it, but just in case…" With that, he spun around and stalked off.

"Well that was strange," Damian said, turning to Matheus. "D'you know him well?"

"No one really knows him well," Matheus shrugged. "Kind of a loner, plays in cafes and does the whole indie-rock scene. Most girls love him – at least, the ones who know he exists. He's a nice guy, once you get to know him. Helped me a lot when I moved here."

"Where you from?" he asked, falling into an easy stride.

"Actually from Brazil."

"Cool," Damian smiled. "Why'd you move here then?"

"Because I'm short." Matheus said, rather shortly, to use a bad pun.

Damian's eyebrows knit in confusion. "I don't follow…"

Matheus sighed. "Of course you don't understand. You're an Irish giant. I'm a tiny Brazillian midget. My parents were worried when I didn't grow past 4'9". So they brought me here to do tests. Turns out I'm just short because I am, no disease or anything."

He sounded bitter, and Damian wasn't sure how to react. Awkwardly, he scratched the back of his head.

"Anyway, let's get going. High school is just another level of hell," Matheus groaned. "And I'd advise you not to hang around me. You'd lose popularity points for sure, and here, popularity is everything. And you're a nice guy, you deserve a fighting chance."

"What the hell?" Damian looked incredulous. "How in living hell do I manage to become an outcast by just hanging around you?"

Matheus' laugh was bitter. "You're naïve, but I guess you haven't stayed in Lima long enough to know the truth. I'm short, dwarfish, a midget, and a foreigner. I'm not a damned jock, and I actually have more than two brain cells to think with. And," he added, somewhat – triumphantly? "I'm a member of the glee club."

"What's a glee club?" Damian asked, curious.

"Oh, it's like a choir. We dance, sing, perform songs. Sometimes we do musicals. I joined last year, actually, with a few others from my grade – well, ours, actually. It's social suicide, you'll have heard every single person say when you ask about it, but… they were the only ones who welcomed me."

"How is it?"

"Half of the time, I don't know what to think," Matheus scrunched his face up in concentration, as if he wasn't quite sure how to describe it. "I mean, the senior class of glee, well, they're just messed up, you know. They're a soap opera onto themselves. They're always fighting amongst each other, and there are some who love to hog the spotlight and leave everyone else on the lurch. But when someone from the outside threatens us… Well, we look out for each other. And when we sing together, there's nothing better than the feeling of bursting into song and just letting everything out. And together we just sound that much better together." His expression fell, though after he said this, and he looked morose. "We all care for each other, even though we may fight amongst ourselves, and we're a family. It's just that a lot of people think we're old-fashioned and lame, and that we still sing show-tunes. And people don't really like Kurt and Alex; they're both too flamboyant and divo-ish for their tastes. The fact that they're openly homosexuals doesn't help much though."

"Are Kurt and Alex in our class?"

"Nah, Kurt is a senior. Alex is in our class though. He's the black kid with a scarf and likes to dress up in drag."

"Anyone else in Glee from our class?"

"There's Ellis, she looks like she's ten, but no, she's not short like me. Um, Hannah and Cameron as well. Alex as well, he's in Glee. That's all. Just the seniors and us, really. We've tried recruiting from other classes, but they just don't care. They didn't care when Nationals were in New York two years ago, and when we tried to lure them to Nationals at Vegas, they didn't even bat an eye."

"Nationals?"

"Yeah. We perform and we also go for competitions as well. Nationals is when we compete with the best from all over the country." Matheus looked at his feet. "We've never been able to crack the top ten."

"I think I'll join. Sounds fun," Damian said, grinning.

Matheus looked alarmed. "Dude, I don't know. I'm glad you still want to join, but you haven't even learned the ropes around here. Heck, you got lost going to homeroom!"

"Which is why I need all the help I can get. And you guys seem nice; not so sure about the seniors, from what you tell me about them. But hey, they're leaving next year anyway."

"Well, think about it. We'll be glad to have you, especially if you're good at singing and dancing. I tried to get Samuel to join since he's so adept at disappearing and evading torture by the peak of the pyramid, but as I said, he's a loner. Just… I hope you don't resent me if you get picked on…"

"Nah, I won't. We're friends anyway, right?"

Matheus gave a tired smile, and they entered homeroom.

"On the bright side, it could have gone worse!" Hannah chirped brightly. She was a pretty (albeit heavy-set) girl, with flaming curls, a happy face and a tendency to be optimistic. "I mean, you only ended up with detention. It's not as bad as getting sent to Principal Figgins."

"Figgins is weird," Cameron added, tall and lanky, with spectacles and a grin. "He's like, a member of my church and he just freaks people out when he stares at them through those huge, thick eyebrows of him. And he says the weirdest things in that accent of his. Not that people with accents are weird," Cameron added hastily, realizing his faux-pas. "Just that he's kind of freaky."

"You know, coming from you, that sounds almost racist," Ellis commented placidly. She was baby-faced, but snarky. "I think you should have just left it at, 'he allows Sue Sylvester to do almost anything she wants'. But I think he gets the point. Doesn't stop it from sucking, though."

"I don't really want to talk about it," Damian groaned, as he sat down with them during recess. Matheus had introduced him to all of the sophomore Glee club members, and together, they all became fast friends before the hour was up. Most of them had classes together, so Damian found himself moving from one class to another with at least one of them, which eased his mind. He liked them, at any rate, and found it easy to get along with them. Hannah and Cameron were funny and witty, while Matheus and Ellis seemed to be the cynics of the group, keeping them anchored to the ground. Alex, who turned out to be a flamboyantly-dressed, heavy-set African-American, was in his own world, and seemed to be a critic of everyone and everything, but in spite of that, they all seemed to have genuine affection for him (although sometimes Damian wondered whether that applied to Matheus as well, because the two of them seemed to have a rivalry going on).

"But everyone knows about it anyway. It wasn't your fault that old Mrs. Grabiner is half-deaf and can't understand half of what people say," Hannah wheedled consolingly.

"Or, in his case, think he's hitting on her," Ellis laughed, and then altered her voice so that it was that of a lady's high-pitched voice with plenty of stutters. "'Oh, dear Lord, but, but – MR. DOHERTY! I am your TEACHER!'"

"She's just bitter that she humiliated herself, is all," Alex said, impatiently. "Like ew. I can't believe she'd even think you would suggest such a thing – such a crass and vulgar thing too! Puh-lease."

"Let's just hope that word doesn't spread, or you'll be the laughingstock of McKinley High," Hannah said, worriedly. Ellis simply shook her head.

"Fat chance of that," she said. "Are you forgetting that Emily Martinez is in the same homeroom?"

"Shoot!" Cameron said, and glanced at Damian. "You're in deep trouble now, pal."

Damian shrugged. "Eh, I don't know. Who is this Emily Martinez anyway?"

Silence fell over the table, and Alex was the first one willing to break it. "Just the devil incarnate!"

Damian laughed. He honestly didn't mean to, but he did, earning a frown of annoyance from Alex, who sniffed and said, "Fine, see if I let you know anything."

"Oh please, you're just bitter that she outed you on the fact that the Marc Jacobs suit you wore last year was a) second-hand and b) from the 2005 collection instead of the latest one," Ellis rolled her eyes.

"As I said, devil incarnate!" Alex slapped the dorsum of his hand to his head and gave a theatrical pose. "I don't suppose any of you could possibly fathom the humiliation…" he trailed off, peaking at the others, who – used to his ways – continued talking. When he didn't receive a response (not even from Damian, who was new and wouldn't know any better!), he simply sighed. "Fine, maybe I'm being a bit histrionic –"

"A bit?" Damian's expressive eyebrows shot up in query.

Alex ignored that jibe. "The fact of the matter is that Emily Martinez is a gossip. So by the end of today, everyone will know you as that perv who made a pass at his old, wizened teacher."

"Hey, I can do perv!" Damian grinned. "Aren't all teenage boys perverted deep inside?" Catching Cameron's eyes, he licked his lips and gave a wolfish grin. Cameron looked bemused and embarrassed as the entire group burst into laughter, which Alex simply raised an eyebrow, and said, "I'm sorry, Irish. I had no idea you swung for the other team as well. My gaydar must be broken."

Damian shook his head. "Sorry, Alex, Damian Doherty is NOT gay."

"Sure you're not? Because that look you gave Cameron was very convincing. Cameron's probably praying to the Lord to shield him from your lascivious thoughts. Actually, no, Cameron does that everyday anyway, praying to shield him from the lascivious thoughts of nearly every man. And so that he won't feel the same way about any woman now that his girlfriend's away."

"You have a girlfriend?" Damian asked.

Cameron nodded. "It's long distance. She's from Texas. We met at camp. We were both councilors at the time. She's just wonderful…"

"And who may my lovely young sophomore be thinking about at this very moment? I do hope that the conversation is a productive one filled with ideas on how to further bring New Directions to the next level and finally give us the trophy to win for Nationals, because this is after all what we aim to do and by becoming champions we'll no longer be at the mercy of the rest of the school population."

"How do you do that without stopping to breathe?" Damian asked, bewildered. The girl who had said such a mouthful without stopping to breathe spun and looked appraisingly at Damian – which was strange since she was short compared to him (but not as short as Matheus).

Damian felt uneasy under her stare. It was as if she were inspecting him, like an insect. Then, as suddenly as she started, she drew back and smiled at him. "Well, I'll say, you guys! First week of school and you've already gotten a new member." She turned to him and gave him a beatific smile – that sometimes reminded Damian of crazy ax-murderers. "I'm Rachel Berry!" she said, with a flick of long, shiny, black hair and dimples on her cheek. "At any rate, you are new and I do believe you're just what we're looking for to secure Nationals."

"What? Rachel, he hasn't even auditioned yet!" Alex cried, bewildered.

The girl called Rachel sniffed – yes, she actually sniffed – at Alex, paying him no heed. "If you must know, Alexander George," Rachel said, condescendingly, "since we seniors are actually graduating, we want to make sure that Glee club lives on. Anyway, since when have I ever been wrong about talent? I'm sure we can find something for him to do here. We could always use a few more harmonizers in Glee, people to make sure I sound good… Just like the rest of you guys. And anyway, what use is being a part of something if eventually you'll just be forgotten if the Glee club is scrapped? I'd like to have a lasting legacy, if you must know. After all, we need a group that will be able to sing out the praises of one Rachel Barbra Berry," she said, and peeked at Damian from the corner of her eyes. "That's me of course."

"Damian Doherty," Damian stuck out his hand. "Pleased to meet you."

"What a lovely accent! Scottish, I presume! Well, we don't have many foreign students around here!" (Matheus cleared his throat here.) "And what is it, Matheus? I'm talking to Damian here."

Matheus sighed and shook his head. Damian decided to interject and say, " 'm Irish, actually!"

"Indeed. Well, you had better be careful when you talk. I, of course, am an actress and so understand myriads of English accents due to my ability to mimic them flawlessly, but there are others who aren't as astute as I am."

"Trust me, I know that now," Damian groaned, as he remembered the detention he was about to serve later today.

"Anyway, my young adorers of musical inclination," Rachel turned towards the others, "I'd like to remind you that today will be the Glee Club's first meeting before we have auditions for Glee club-wannabes."

"What wannabes?" Ellis frowned. "I tried getting one of the freshmen to join, but apparently this group is the I-don't-care-and-screw-extracurricular-activities group. I tried to bring up Glee but they ran off. I wouldn't be surprised if Coach Sylvester had anything to do with it. She was pretty ticked off when Quinn, Santana and Brittany refused to rejoin, and when we joined last year and Mr. Schuester was able to use us as an excuse to increase our budget, she swore revenge. Such a bitch."

Damian raised his eyebrows. "This 'Coach Sylvester' sounds nasty."

"Trust me, she is. And she's trained the Cheerios to look down on us," Matheus interjected. "Um, some of us more literally than figuratively."

"She hates me," Hannah looked down at her feet and bit her lip.

"Don't be ridiculous!" Rachel frowned. "We have to keep our optimism up. We will rule the school one way or another, and when people see how successful we've become – all of us – they'll think twice about slushying the next members of the Glee club. It's one of the reasons I want to be successful too," Rachel added softly. "It could stop sooner if I hurry up and get my big break."

Silence ensued, an awkward one, which was then broken by Cameron. "Thanks, Rachel. We're fine though. It's the first day, so no one has had time to prepare for any mind-warping torture."

"Speak for yourself," Matheus said, almost sadly. "Some of the jocks threw me into the lockers."

"Who was it?"

"Just Azimio and Bryce Carlton-Smith." Matheus shook his head, trying to indicate that he really did not want to talk about the (what-must-have-been harrowing) experience. "It doesn't even matter anymore."

Rachel gave him a strange look. It was obvious she didn't believe him. Nose in the air, she said imperiously, "Well, I suppose if he gives you trouble –"

"It's all right, Rachel. I'll be fine anyway."

"If you say so." She flounced off, suddenly disappearing as fast as she came.

Matheus sighed. "Well, I guess we'd better hurry and finish up. I've got English."

"Same here," Hannah said. Ellis and Alex nodded.

"Well, I have algebra," Damian said. "But knowing that I'll get lost –"

"No worries, bro. I've got algebra too." Cameron slung an arm around his shoulder. "You should get lost with me around, since you don't have to ask anyone for directions." ("I hate algebra. It sucks," Ellis said, which earned her a sock on the shoulder.)

Damian furrowed his eyebrows. "And what's that supposed to mean… Cameron?" Damian added, noticing Ellis about to open her mouth and launch a tirade against the horror that was algebra.

"Means that you won't waste time getting annoyed when weird people think you're saying something else other than asking for directions."

Damian punched him in the shoulder. "Hey! OK, sorry," Cameron grinned. "I won't bring the fact that your accent landed you in detention again."

"What do they do during detention anyway?"

Cameron shrugged. "I don't know, make you die of boredom? Beats me. Nerds don't get stuck in detention. We're too much teacher's pets to do that."

Damian grinned. "Any way to become one?"

"Sure can. I, Cameron Michaels, Nerd Extraordinaire, hereby initiate thee – wait, what's your full name?"

"Damian Doherty, Jr."

"Damian Doherty, Jr. as part of the Nerd Herd. Now let's go."

"Does that mean I won't have to go for detention later?"

"Nope, sorry dude. Still got to. But no worries, I'll teach you nerd secrets afterwards so you won't ever get into this sort of scrape again."

"Nerd secrets?" he asked with raised eyebrows. "That has got to be a joke."

Cameron just grinned, picture of innocence, as they made their way to class.

Unfortunately, after Algebra, Damian's next class was not with Cameron (whose class was the opposite direction, and who gave him precise instructions on where to meet them after he got off from detention later that day), and he got lost again, despite Cameron's instructions. As the students began to clear out of the hallways and enter their classes, Damian decided to just go and ask someone for directions, regardless of the result. He'd be damned if he reached late and got another detention again, especially if it were for something as mundane as his accent. Cameron seemed determined to fix the accent, for some reason (actually Damian knew why; Cameron wasn't being that secretive about his motives. It would be comedy gold teaching an Irish guy to speak like an American. Damian didn't know whether to laugh or be slightly miffed about it).

He turned to one girl, blonde with long hair left over her shoulders, dressed… rather eccentrically, he thought. Were those legwarmers on her arms? He shook his head. He needed help anyway. "Hey, could you help me find where my class is? I'm new."

"What?"

"I'm new and I need help to find my class."

"I'm flattered, but I don't think I know you well enough yet."

His eyebrows shot up. "I'm Damian. But, what did you think I said?"

"Oh, I know you're the man. They always are. You look like a boy, though. And you dress like one. And you wouldn't have used have such a weird pick-up line if you were a girl. Who on earth says, 'I'm you and I need help to find my ass'." Her eyes narrowed suddenly. "Were you trying to make fun of me? I'm not as stupid as I am, you know."

"No. I – NEED – HELP – TO – FIND – MY – CLASS," Damian enunciated each word, trying to leave his accent out. Trust Cameron to be right.

"Now you're really speaking English. I thought you didn't know how to speak English earlier."

Damian looked at her, puzzled. "I don't follow."

"What did you say?"

He sighed and repeated the words more slowly.

"That makes more sense. All right, where do you need to go?"

"To my class."

"Which class?"

He told her, and she nodded. "Come along. I know where it is." She walked off, Damian trailing slightly behind her. "Last year Tom Cruise and I went on a mission impossible to find the missing school blueprints. Before I gave them to Coach Sylvester I managed to photocopy and memorize it for myself." She looked proud of herself. "I know where the best places to make out are. I'd be happy if –"

"We're going to be late for class," Damian said hurriedly. Truth be told, the blonde girl seemed a little too out there.

Her face fell. "You have to keep speaking English. I don't take French."

"I was speaking English. I can't speak French. I'm Irish."

"Then you shouldn't speak Irish."

"I am Irish! And I was speaking in English to you!"

"If you speak English I would be able to understand you. But you're not, not always. It's OK. It's extremely difficult to speak English if you speak Irish. Besides, why learn English when you guys have beer?"

"Beer?"

"Yeah. I mean, the world would be better if we just drank alcohol, you know. Everyone would be so drunk and mellow."

"What has being Irish got to do with drinking alcohol?" Damian asked, careful to enunciate his words properly.

"I don't know. Do you drink alcohol?"

"No," Damian shook his head.

"Oh," she said. "Well, you're missing out. It's OK, you're rich enough."

"Why would you say I'm rich?"

"Because you've got a pet leprechaun. I mean, I guess we do have leprechauns here, like Rachel, but not a real life one. Only Irish people do. So you must be rich."

"You think I have a pet leprechaun?" Damian was incredulous.

"That must be why it's been raining so badly these days. When it rains, it's easier for leprechauns to find pots of gold at the end of the rainbow." Her eyes narrowed at him. "I hope your leprechaun doesn't do that, you know. That gold's American gold. It belongs to us."

"What?" He shook his head. "You're pulling my leg. You can't seriously think that I have a pet leprechaun."

She stared appraisingly at him. "You're wearing a green hoodie and khakis."

Damian looked down at his clothes. "And –?"

"Maybe you're a leprechaun instead?"

"You've got to be joking here," he muttered.

She didn't seem to have heard him. "It's too bad, you know. I'd totally make out with you if you weren't a leprechaun. You sound super hot, even though I don't understand a word you say." She paused and thought aloud. "Maybe that's better. Then we can skip the talking and just get to the making-out. But you're a leprechaun."

"I AM NOT A LEPRECHAUN."

"But I thought all leprechauns wore green and were Irish."

"They don't even exist."

"You shouldn't tell lies," Brittany frowns. "Here you go, your class. Have fun in Physics!"

Brittany scurried off, seemingly not hearing when Damian cried after her, "But I'm supposed to have Chemistry!"

It took ages before Damian found the Chemistry classroom, and when he did, the class was nearly half-done. Thankfully, he managed to avoid another detention, but he still earned an earful, before slinking in shame to the seat in front, next to a slim red-headed girl who looked deep in concentration as she continued the assigned titration.

"Hey, I – uh – I'm sorry I'm late," he said, awkwardly, as he settled into the seat. "I'm, uh, Damian."

She smiled at him. "I'm Marissa." Then, going back to the titration, she continued, "You're the new kid, aren't you?"

He grinned. "Aye, pretty obvious, isn't it?"

She shook her head, still smiling. "No, I'm with Emily for Spanish. She told me the story of how you tried to 'put the moves' during homeroom and ended up with detention."

He groaned. "So they weren't lying. Emily Martinez is the gossip queen of McKinley High."

"You make it sound like a bad thing. Emily is really nice." Looking at him for a moment, she added, curiously. "And who's they?"

"Um, some folks I met this morning from our class. They're from the Glee club. They're really nice."

Marissa's expression was blank, but she smiled softly. "Yeah, I'm sure they are."

"You know any of them?"

She shook her head. "Not personally. I've classes with most of them, though. And Chemistry with you now, I suppose. We're lab partners now, I guess."

He shrugged. "I'm glad I'll be partnering with you. You seem nice."

"Oh really?" Her laugh was a giggle, high-pitched and happy. "Even though Emily's a good friend of mine?"

"Oh." A pause. "Well I think you're nice anyway."

"Why thank you, I suppose," she said, smiling back at him. "Here, you can help me finish the report, I'll just finish the titration and if you want we'll switch."

"Sounds like a plan," Damian said, and they worked in silence after that.

"So how was detention?" Cameron asked him, as soon as all of them had gathered in the Glee club's classroom. The Glee club meeting had long been adjourned, Damian had been informed. Now, all the seniors were on the prowl for newcomers. The sophomores weren't looking forward to recruiting, though, and hoped that the seniors would be successful.

"Extremely boring. But you knew that, didn't you?" Cameron whistled innocently, and Damian shot him a dirty look. "You know, that fake innocence is totally fake. I can see through that façade."

"I don't know what you're talking about, my little leprechaun friend."

"Leprechaun friend?" Damian frowned.

Hannah – whose face was pink, as if she had been trying to restrain herself from doing something – burst into wild laughter, and if she hadn't been sitting on the chair, she probably would have rolled around on the floor laughing her derriere off. As it was, she resigned herself to slapping her knees and giving a throaty laugh.

Matheus looked at her and shook his head. "Brittany told us about the hot leprechaun who couldn't speak English. Careful probing of the subject matter led us to believe that she was talking about you." Seeing as Damian didn't follow, Ellis clarified, "Blonde hair, a little weird, asked you to make out with her within two seconds of meeting you?"

"Yeah, that was weird." Damian said. "Does she act like that with everyone?"

"Yeah," Hannah cried out, still rolling with laughter. "Oh dear Lord, you should have seen the look on Matheus' face when she was trying to put the moves on him."

Matheus' face turned bright red. "I'd never been so mortified in my life. 'I've never made out with a short guy. The rest of your body isn't that short, is it?'"

"Eh, don't mind Brittany, she says the darndest things. Her videoblog is comedy gold. I watch it whenever I need a pick-me-up," Ellis shrugged.

Cameron shot her a look. "You always watch her videoblog," he said, at the same time Hannah said, "You always need a pick-me-up."

"Both true," Ellis nodded, and they all laughed. Damian grinned. This group of friends – outcasts – whatever the hell they called themselves, were close, and they were exactly the kind of friends Damian wanted to have.

Screw popularity. And screw the bullies. Screw everything, really. He had faced worse problems before this.

(But it wasn't algebra. That was Ellis' problem.)

Author's Notes: It's the first thing that has been stuck in my head for ages. Yeah.

I hope to finish this, but I'm not sure whether I will, given my track record. I'll do my best though. It's AU as of Season 3, since no one knew who was a senior/junior before that. May deviate wildly from canon. But hey, it's fanfic, so whatever.

Long first chapter. I didn't know where to stop. I don't know whether it's an improvement over my previous fanfics. Let's see.

Reviews are love (and motivation). Ask me any questions and I'll give you answers. =)

Starts with Damian because he's the easiest to start with. New kid and all. I haven't introduced Lindsay or McKynleigh yet though, having a hard time already. =S Emily's just mentioned on the sides. We'll see how this plays out.

If you haven't noticed, I have changed last names. We here aren't supposed to be using ACTUAL living people in fanfics, so, since this is an INSPIRED fanfic, names must be changed. (Besides, I doubt I write them the way they are in real life.)