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Previously, on Maybe This Time I'll Win...

Lindsay's quit the New Directions for a better social life...will she get it?

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Chapter 8: Cheerios

The hall was buzzing. The large walls were decked with holly and wreaths and shimmering tinsel that glittered when it caught the light. Everyone's lockers had Christmas cards stuck on the with tape. A gargantuan, bristly Christmas tree stood tall and proud in the corridor, sparkling baubles and tinsel dangling off it and a golden star at the top. Several wrapped presents rested under the shadow of the beast, all in green and red paper.

Lindsay strolled down the corridor, the itchy cheerleader outfit irritating her. She'd done it - she'd joined the cheerios. She'd managed to get past Sue Sylvester's sharp tounge, complete the painful task she'd been given and tug the irritating uniform on.

That blonde jock - Lindsay had forgotten his name - winked at her and passed, a smile on her face.

Sam Evans GLEE
"Woah. Lindsay." a familiar voice said. Lindsay turned a half circle to see Damian McGinty, staring at her in complete and utter awe.

"Hey up, Damo. Like the new outfit?"

"Er...yeah. You look...hot--" Damian cut himself off from embarrasing himself in front of the whole school.

"I'm meant to!" replied Lindsay casually, secretly hiding the thrill of his comment.

"Look, Lindsay...I was a little harsh on what I said to you that day--"

"Yeah, you were!"

"I didn't mean it. You were kinda right with that you said. We used to be besties and I don't want that to change or get any worse that it already has. Will you be my friend again?"

Lindsay stared, thoughts dashing through her head faster than cheetas. The answer was obvious - yes - but what if she got bullied again? She could easily stand up to Marissa now but Emily? Ha, simples.

"Fine. Nothing nitty gritty - no talking or note passing before, during and after classes, no helping each other through slushies, no discussing sentimental issues and no holding hands! Apart from that I'm willing, in the spirit of Christmas, to let you back in. Now hurry along to that Glee club. I've got Cheerio practise." And there she walked away, leaving Damian with several worries in his head.

Cheerio practise. AKA torture. Lindsay was plonked down on the seat infront of Coach Sue's desk.

"Right, Pearce, the first thing I want to say is welcome to the Cheerios. Being in here is much better than being sub-basment where the dead fish of the New Directions lie, all chopped and battered from the fishing hooks that failed to recieve the stupid things. But we have rules. Rule number one: Stay away from the New Directions at all times. Rule number two: No bacteria, backache, backgammon, bees, Bieber fever or bullimia. And rule number three: Falling off the pyramid hurts. Understand?"

Sue carried on before Lindsay even answered.

"Good. It's not everyday someone decent joins the Cheerios. Well, really, it is. My girls are so good here, and I hope you are too, Pearce. Now, get outta here!"


Lindsay tripped once more over her laced white trainers when a hand suddenly interlocked with hers. Lindsay threw her head up to see a familar face.

"Damian, what the heck are you doing?!" hissed Lindsay, snapping her hand away.

"Holding your hand." he replied quietly, trying to grab the soft, warm hand back.

"We agreed you wouldn't. Yes, we were once good friends but then you turned thick and I became popular and that made us outcasts. I'm not going back to the girl I used to be. I was fake and stupid and hung out with a Leprechaun. No thanks. Bye."


"Lindsay!" someone screeched. The brunette's ears pricked up and her pace quickened. "Help! Lindsay! HELP!" She ran towards the voice. "LINDSAY! ANYONE! HELP! LINDS--" Silence.

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