CHAPTER FOUR
( MANY THINGS )

        LUCKY WAS MANY things. That list included: judgmental, manipulative, conceited, bitchy, etc. It could go on forever. But what it didn't include: stupid.

She heard the way people talked about her at McKinley. She was 'easy', in the eyes of her peers — both male and female.

She remembered it used to bother her. She'd been a sweet little 14 year old girl that fell hard for a senior guy. He'd taken her on romantic dates, like the ones she saw in all of her favorite romance movies. He told her he loved her and convinced her to have sex with him.

Then the very next day, she'd heard him bragging to his friends about how he'd fucked Hope Ross's little sister.

She'd ran away and sobbed in the bathroom. She spent the entirety of that day locked in the disgusting stall, too embarrassed to show her face. She got called a slut for a while, and she'd spent every lunch for a month in the same stall. Until she realized that she couldn't let it get to her anymore. She wouldn't allow herself to be laughed at.

She'd realized she could use her sexuality in her favor, giving just enough to take back.

Which was why she hadn't allowed Sam Evans to go any further than her underwear. It left him wanting more. Needing more.

"Alright, guys," Mr. Schue started when Kurt and Tina walked into the room. "Let's get down to business. First, let's welcome back Noah Puckerman."

Lucky rolled her eyes and clapped a few times as everyone else applauded his return.

"Puck, I hope your time in juvie has taught you a lesson about right and wrong," Mr. Schue told him.

"Are you kidding me? I ruled that place," Puck bragged. "All I did was crack skulls and lift weights all day."

"Wow, what a catch," Quinn sarcastically responded. "I can't believe I ever let you go."

"And now, drumroll, Finn," Mr. Schue swiftly moved on. "Because I have in my hand our competition for sectionals next month." He slid on his glasses. "First, the a cappella choir from the all-boys private school in Westerville, the Dalton Academy Warblers."

Lucky snickered, her eyes flickering over to meet Santana's. Clearly, they were both thinking the same thing. "Okay, hold up," Santana began. "Like a million awesome gay jokes just popped into my head."

"And the other team to beat, the Hipsters," Mr. Schue continued. "A first-year club from the Warren Township continuing education program. Now, they are a glee club composed of elderly people getting their high school GEDs."

"Is that legal?" Rachel questioned.

"How are we supposed to compete against a bunch of adorable old people?" Mercedes furrowed her brows.

"Are you kidding?" Puck replied. "Brittle bones. Give one of those ladies a good luck pat on the rear, it'll shatter her pelvis."

"Moving on," Mr. Schue declared. "Since it seemed to get you guys jazzed about sectionals last year, I wanna make our second annual boys vs. girls tournament."

Everyone cheered. Lucky grinned and turned her head to look at Sam, who she was sitting next to with her legs thrown over his lap. "You're going down," she whispered.

"So, split up into two groups and figure out what songs you're gonna sing," Schuester instructed.

Lucky slid her legs off of Sam's lap and moved to the girls' side of the room. She took a seat next to Santana and began discussing.

During the passing period, Lucky was heading to her next class when she saw Karofsky shove Kurt into the lockers. "What is your problem?" Kurt shouted.

"You talking back to me?" Karofsky turned, stomping back toward him. "You want a piece of the fury?"

"The fury?" Kurt repeated.

"That's what I named my fist," Karofsky replied, holding his fist up.

"With that level of creativity, you could easily become assistant manager at a rendering plant," Kurt shot back.

"I don't know what that is, but if I find out it's bad, The Fury's gonna find you," Karofsky threatened.

"Of course you don't," Lucky interjected. "You have the brain size of a literal pea, proven by the fact that you've named your fist The Fury."

Karofsky looked her up and down and moved closer. "You want to hear what I've named my dick?"

"Well, you thought of it, so it's probably something stupid like Thruster. Actually, I take that back, you're not smart enough to think of something like that," she flickered her eyes to the crotch of his pants and tilted her head. "I don't know. I think Tiny Tim is better suited."

"Do you want to find out?"

She wrinkled her nose, returning her attention to his face. "I think I'll pass."

Karofsky scoffed. "Says the bitch who's ran through the entire football team and most of the school."

"The entire football team? I see I live in your fantasies because I wouldn't even touch you with a 10-foot pole." She cleared her throat and inched closer to him, lowering her voice to just above a whisper. "I know a lot of people, Karofsky. If I catch you around Kurt again, some of them might just pay you a little visit with a baseball bat. Do you understand that or do I have to dumb it down more?" He rolled his eyes, but she wasn't satisfied with that. "Speak, monkey."

"Whatever," was all he said before he walked away.

"Thank you," Kurt whispered.

"Don't mention it," she muttered, barely sparing him a glance before she continued to her next class.

☆ ★☆

"LOOK, I'M NOT tossing the baby out with the bath water here," Mr. Schue defended himself the next afternoon. Sometime during the last 24 hours, he'd come up with the brilliant idea to switch up the lesson.

"I've totally done that," Brittany commented.

"We're just making an adjustment," the teacher stated. "Boys, you are doing songs traditionally sung by girl groups. And, girls, try some classic rock. Uh, The Who, The Stones. . . The more opposite your choice, the more points you get."

After cheer practice and a meeting with the girls to brainstorm mashup ideas, Lucky and Sam went to her house to 'study'.

She'd been straddling his hips, his arms pinned to his side by her legs. And when she'd asked if he wanted to touch her, he'd moaned Coach Beiste's name.

She'd sent him home after that, making up some dumb excuse about promising her mom a movie night, even though her mom was spending the night at her newest boyfriend of the week's house.

"Are you sure he said Beiste?" Santana questioned her as the two of them walked through the hallway, Lucky filling her in. "Maybe he said please. He seems like a beggar."

"No, he said Beiste," Lucky insisted. "I've heard him beg before, and it didn't sound like that."

"How do you go from the hottest, baddest bitch in the entire school to your football coach?"

She sighed. This was stressing her out. She'd stayed up half the night just thinking about what would happen if word got out she was being cheated on with Coach Beiste. "This is going to ruin everything."

"Ladies, I couldn't help but overhear your conversation," Coach Sylvester walked up to them. "And while I'm going to have to stare at some disgusting images to get the picture of your boyfriend dry-humping She-Hulk out of my head, I've realized this may be the opportunity I've been looking for. A way to get Beiste out of the school. And your Macaulay Culkin stunt double back in your arms."

"What do I do?" Lucky furrowed her brows.

"We need to go public with your pain," Coach Sylvester answered. "Get people talking about this. Make Beiste into the next Mary Kay Letourneau. And you need to give him a piece of your mind, loud and public."

"I can't do that," Lucky protested. "My ex-boyfriend cheated on me with the female, emo version of himself. My current boyfriend is cheating on me with his football couch. You know what that makes me look like? Pathetic."

Coach Sylvester threatened her spot on the squad. So, later in the day, Lucky headed toward Sam's locker.

"Hey," Sam grinned when he saw her. "How was movie night?"

She swallowed, putting on her signature bitch face as she glanced at him and kept walking.

"Lucky?" he called after her. "Hey!" He caught up to her, joining her side. "What happened? Are you okay? Did I do something?"

"No, it's not like you said your coach's name while making out with me or anything," Lucky shook her head, shrugging.

"Okay, let me explain," Sam gripped her arm, making her stop and look at him. "It's not what you think."

"Then what is it, Sam?" she demanded. "Because what I think is that you came into this looking for sex and I'm not giving it to you, so you're finding it wherever you can."

"That's not—" Sam argued. "I'm not cheating on you with Coach Beiste!"

"What's this?" Coach Beiste, who'd been walking past, turned when she heard her name.

"Stay out of this!" Lucky snapped.

"Watch your tone with me, missy," Beiste scolded. "You crap on my leg, I'll cut it off."

Lucky rolled her eyes and walked away, glaring at Sam as she left. She stopped at her locker to get the textbooks she'd need for the rest of the day.

"Are you okay?" Lucas wondered, flinching as another one of the books from her pile slammed against the metal and she reached for the one under it.

"I'm fine!" she hissed, slamming her locker door shut.

Lucky barely spoke the rest of the day.

She sat beside Santana and Brittany in the choir room. The girls were working on their costumes for the performance. They'd decided they were doing a mashup of Start Me Up and Livin' On A Prayer.

"The boys beat us the last time we competed against them," Mercedes stated. "We've gotta bring the noise hard this time."

"To be fair, they didn't officially beat us," Quinn pointed out. "We got busted for vitamin D possession before the vote."

"Let's just be honest with ourselves, they would've won even if we hadn't got caught," Lucky mumbled as she bedazzled a bandana.

"Wait," Santana interrupted. "Something's definitely wrong. Why isn't Rachel talking?"

"Yeah, she should totally be bossing us around right now," Brittany agreed.

"Shh," Lucky hissed. "Just enjoy the quiet."

Rachel rolled her eyes and focused on her nails. "The idea of the assignment was to do the opposite of what we normally do. I'm just trying to stick to the lesson plan which is proving nearly impossible since you're flying the sequins on backwards! Spies!"

Lucky looked up to see Puck and Artie come into the room. "Lighten up," Puck responded. "We're here to talk to Santana and Brittany."

Santana shifted in her chair, taking her chance. "So, how does it feel to be a free man?"

"All I can say is I don't want a long-term relationship with either of you," Artie said. "Especially Brittany since I'm not in love with her."

"Do you guys wanna go out to dinner tonight?" Brittany asked, falling victim to their pathetic flirting techniques.

"Not really," Puck shook his head.

"Oh," Santana breathed out.

"Tell you what. You two show at Breadstix tomorrow night around seven, if we don't find hotter chicks to take tonight, we might show up," he offered instead.

Santana chuckled, feeding into his ego. "You are totally cool."

"Awesome," Brittany grinned.

Lucky shot Santana a look of disbelief, which the Latina simply shrugged at.

☆ ★☆

        LUCKY HAD IGNORED Sam for the entire week, only offering him enough attention to tease him during the girls' performance. Currently, she was sitting in her previous spot next to Lucas as Mr. Schue lectured them for some reason.

"Well, I genuinely hope you guys are happy because Coach Beiste has quit," he announced. Lucky crossed her arms and pursed her lips, leaning back in her chair. Good.

"Wait. What?" Finn asked. "That's terrible."

"Yeah, that's not what we want," Sam stated.

"That's the opposite of what we want," Artie agreed. "The football team is actually winning."

"Well, then you better put your heads together and find a way to get her back, fast," Mr. Schue answered. "Because I am actually ashamed of you. You really hurt someone who is a great addition to this school."

"Do you know what he's talking about?" Lucas leaned into Lucky.

"Nope," she replied.

"I'm sorry," Rachel cut in. "What exactly did we do?"

"No, no," Finn protested. "It's us. The boys."

"And Tina," Mike quietly added.

That caught Lucky's attention. She tilted her head. "What the hell did you guys do?"

"We sorta figured out that picturing Beiste while making out was even better than a cold shower," Finn told her. Then he noticed the way Rachel was looking at him. "Uh — I mean, I don't. Ever."

Lucky's eyebrows furrowed, her lips parting in disbelief. "Oh." She locked eyes with Sam. "I'm so sorry."

"Can I just say that this is what happens when people don't put out," Santana remarked. "If everyone just put out, we'd have a winning football team."

"Um — no," Lucas blinked at her, shaking head. "All that would cause is more teenage pregnancies. And the number of single mothers to rise."

Santana narrowed her eyes at him, mocking him. Lucky couldn't help but laugh.

"William, I need to see you and Noah Puckerman in my office, please," Principle Figgins stepped into the room.

Lucky was on her way to class when she saw what was happening. Karofsky had some boy pinned to the fence. Normally she wouldn't have cared if it wasn't for the fact that Kurt was there. She huffed and hurried down the stairs.

"Get the fuck off of him, Karofsky!" she ordered.

"You have got to stop this!" Kurt shouted.

Karofsky stared at them, his eyes wide, before he turned and hurried away. Kurt let out a relieved breath and Lucky shook her head.

"Well, he's not coming out any time soon," the other boy commented.

"What?" Lucky's head snapped toward him. The first thing she noticed now that she had a second to look at him was the fact that his hair was completely gelled back. And that he was wearing a suit, so he definitely wasn't a McKinley student. "And who are you?"

"I'm Blaine," his eyes widened as they flickered to Kurt. "I thought — I thought you knew."

"Knew what?" she demanded.

"I confronted Karofsky," Kurt revealed. He crossed his arms and glanced over his shoulders, lowering his voice. "And. . . he kissed me."

Lucky practically felt her eyes pop out of her head. Before she could say anything, Kurt was letting out a shaky breath. He sat on one of the stairs.

"What's going on?" Blaine softly wondered, moving to sit next to the boy. "Why are you so upset?"

"Because up until yesterday, I had never been kissed," Kurt told him. "Or at least, one that counted."

Lucky's jaw clenched as her brain filled with tons of horrible things she could do to Karofsky. But as much as she hated him and wanted to make his life miserable, she wasn't going to out him to everybody.

Adding to the list of things Lucky Ross wasn't: a horrible person.

𝒎𝒆𝒍 𝒎𝒆𝒍 !!
this chapter has been written for months i just kept forgetting about it😭

also the scene between lucky and karofsky is so cringe but i'm too lazy to rewrite it so...