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Pick Me Up

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This story is No. 2 in the series "Glee Set Lists". You may wish to read the series introduction and the preceeding stories first.

Summary: Five Telephone Calls Tina Might Make

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Television > GleetootsFR131988021,7436 Sep 106 Sep 10Yes
Disclaimer: I don’t own Glee. That’s Ryan Murphy.
Author’s Notes: I chose to bust up Glee Set Lists, as a story, and instead create a Series page for it. This will allow me to more easily add to certain stories without, hopefully, creating a lot of confusion.


To Kurt

“I don’t know what to wear!” Tina wailed into the phone and it was a good thing she’d decided to try to find the perfect outfit the day before her big outing.

His impatient sigh echoed down the line. “Tina, honey, I’ve got a very pretty football player over who’s willing to do things that are illegal in most states. So listen carefully and do not argue or tomorrow at school, I will cut you. Go to your closet, to the very back, and pull out the garment bag I left and told you never to open on pain of death. Open it.”

She did as he told her, valiantly ignoring the innuendo about his sex life. She opened the bag and it was like opening a treasure chest. A black dress that would hit her just above the knee. A red and black leather cinch with heavy silver buckles up the back. Heeled Mary Jane’s, black tights, thin, almost sheer arm warmers. Even a sketch of the makeup she should wear. All of it, just waiting for her to use.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, humble.

“You’re welcome,” he said haughtily. “You’re going to make Abrams swallow his tongue. I want details. Good-bye.”

He hastily hung up and she smiled down at the phone.



To Artie

I’m sorry,” echoed through her mind as she pushed redial. “It’s not going to work out.” She wrapped her arm tight around her waist as she waited for him to pick up. “I just can’t take the silence.” The longer it took, the harder it was to force the tears back. “I’ve met someone else.” She sniffled as the dam finally broke. “I hope we can still be friends.

There was a click on the other end and she sobbed, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Artie. Please just talk to me.”

There was another click. A dial tone. And she fell to pieces.



To Puck

“Puck, I’m pregnant,” Tina said, staring down at the pregnancy tests on the bathroom counter and feeling a little faint.

Silence echoed down the line, then, “So? It’s not mine, what’re you calling me for?” There was a moment’s pause. “Wait, I’m not, right? Because I’m pretty sure I’d remember-”

“It’s not yours,” she cut in, rolling her eyes. Leave it to Puck to make her feel better by being a giant douche. “I just…I need some advice.”

She was afraid, for a second, that she’d overstepped a boundary and he was going to hang up.

Then, quietly, he said, “Tell him. Just tell him exactly like you told me. Don’t wait, don’t dick around, don’t lie. Rip off his childhood band-aid and you can decide what to do together.”

Something about hearing him say it, quiet and steady, helped calm her. “Right. Thank you.”

She was about to say goodbye, to hang up, to make another call that would change a boy’s life forever, when she heard him ask, “Hey, Cohen? Why me? Why not Mercedes or Kurt or, hell, Quinn?”

She fidgeted with one of the tests and swallowed. “Kurt and Mercedes wouldn’t understand. And whatever decisions I make, I won’t be following in Quinn’s footsteps. And I thought you could help.”

They just breathed at one another for a second, then he said, “Yeah, sure. Feel free to call every time you get pregnant by another guy,” and hung up.

She was a little choked up because she knew that was just his way of saying, ‘Any time.’



To Mercedes

“Oh, my God, Mercedes, I won a Tony,” Tina said, clutching her cell phone to her ear as she stuck her head between her knees. Thankfully the partition was up or the limo driver probably would’ve thought she was doing something dirty.

“I know,” Mercedes said on a laugh. “Girl, we saw you on T.V.”

“Oh God,” Tina moaned, “I’m probably going to need to hide because Rachel’s going to find me, kill me in my sleep, then steal my award.”

Mercedes cackled, then pointed out, “Well, you did steal her thunder. Girl always did want her accolades and here you are getting a Tony before she’s even gotten the lead on Broadway.”

“I’m going to die by Rachel Berry’s hand,” Tina said and sort of started to resign herself to the fact.

Mercedes just kept laughing.



Phone Tree

Tina pinched the bridge of her nose. Fifteen years out of High School and she still hated the place. Of course, she still had the eleven other original members of New Directions’ phone numbers in her cell, too. As hard as it had sucked, parts of high school had been the standard to which she lived her life today.

“Monday, then,” she echoed calmly, wanting to be sure. She was an awards winning Broadway actress and singer. Her schedule was hectic but she didn’t want to miss this just because she’d gotten mixed up.

“Monday,” Finn echoed her, somber. “He wanted us to sing, too, if that’s alright…?”

She swallowed, the first stirring of tears pressing against her throat. “Let me guess. Don’t Stop Believin’. It’s not exactly appropriate for a funeral.”

He gave a sad little laugh but Rachel was the one who answered, “Well, it was our first success as a group.”

“It was his favorite,” Quinn said quietly.

“I’ll come Sunday,” Tina said, spur of the moment. “So we can get in a little practice.”

The others all agreed, several of them adjusting their own schedules so that they could all make it to Lima early, too. New Directions was going to put on one last show. Too bad Mr. Schue wouldn’t be there to see it.

The End

You have reached the end of "Pick Me Up". This story is complete.

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