|Jack, Wanda and Janice leaned against the wall of the corridor, listening to KeShawn talking to a couple of his teammates. |
“That ain’t up to you, man,” one of them was saying. “That’s Coach Bieste’s decision, and she likes the Glee losers.”
“She likes winners more,” KeShawn replied. “So if Hudson thinks he can just go to Switzerland and then drop back in and get his place back, he’s gonna be disappointed. I’m the quarterback now, and I ain’t moving.”
Their voices receded as they moved off in the opposite direction, and Wanda breathed a sigh of relief, not having believed Jack’s assurance that they’d be perfectly safe from the boys. Jack looked at them both.
“We have to do something,” she declared.
Janice rolled her eyes. She was chewing gum, looking more and more at home in McKinley every day. “What do you have in mind?” she said. “You don’t even know Finn Hudson.”
“I know he’s at the Chalet School,” Jack said, somewhat confusedly, “so he’s practically one of us.”
“Oh, do what you like,” said Janice. “I have a practice. Later!”
At the Chalet School, blissfully unaware of KeShawn’s conspiring against him and the other football players on the exchange, Finn was coaching a group of girls as they sang. This group had no particular aspirations to audition for main parts; they were happy to be part of the chorus and sing together. So once they had learned the songs from the singing master – who didn’t want to know about the “improvements”, and wasn’t involved in them – the Glee clubbers took over. Since Finn wasn’t a great dancer, he worked on injecting some energy into the songs that had been provided.
He found himself enjoying these sessions. It was certainly better than doing Prep. As they came to the end of the song, he told the group to take a rest. All of them were out of breath, having put everything they could into the singing, and they were only too happy to sit down on the benches and relax for a few minutes. Finn picked out a few girls and gave them individual pointers, praising some who had made a more noticeable effort.
From a room to the side, he heard an off-tune shrieking – auditions, he surmised, were proceeding as planned. He’d heard strains of the same song repeated several times throughout his session, as well as lines being declaimed in various intonations and manners. A while ago, Mr Shue had come out of the room and gone to fetch a tray of coffee; shortly after that, Miss Ferrars had also left the room, her hair less neat than usual, carrying the empty cups. Finn had actually thought there were maids to bring coffee and collect cups, but perhaps he’d been mistaken.
The singing – if it could be called that – rose in pitch, and some of the girls in the chorus winced and looked around. Hastily, Finn clapped his hands.
“Once more from the top, ladies!” he called out.
In that side room, Mr Shuester plastered a smile on his face and politely thanked the girl who had just – thank the Lord! – finished singing. Kathie Ferrars was frozen in place beside her, having never heard anything like it in her life before. It was certainly easier having the director choose each part without going through all of this, but the process had been started now and he wasn’t going to back out. The girl left the room, beaming, and as soon as the door was closed, Mr Shuester drew a line through her name at the end of the list.
“That was the last one for this afternoon,” he said, sighing and stretching.
“At last!” Kathie responded with a groan.
“Let’s take a break – we can get together later and decide who we want to cast.”
“Good idea,” she said. “I’d suggest getting some coffee, but I think we’ve both had enough to keep the whole school awake for a week.”
He laughed. “Yeah, you’re right. Well, this was your idea, remember.”
“Don’t remind me!” said Kathie, waving at him as she left the room.