“Sugar!” Rory hissed at the girl who was inspecting herself in her locker mirror and applied another coat of lipgloss.

“Yes?” She sighed like he was such a nuisance, tearing her gaze away from herself.

“Sugar, we’ve got a a problem.” He said, gravely, his fake Irish accent dropping.

“God, Rory, what did you do?” Sugar squeaked, angrily throwing her lime and turquoise handbag into her locker. Rory cringed; he was all for self expression through fashion, after all his Daddy Kurt launched his own fashion line after a stint on Broadway, but Sugar’s style was just atrocious. As Hummel-Anderson is offended him deeply.

Ignoring his handbag train of thought, he threw his hands up defensively, “Me? I didn’t do anything!”

“Then what’s wrong?” She demanded in a low voice, “We don’t need any more problems right now. I finally got Joe back into this time period and he’s already cock-blocking my moms with with his cover.”

“Artie told us at lunch that he wants to go out with you!” Rory whispered, frantically.

Sugar kind of smirked at this, seeming very pleased, “Well, what can I say? You can’t blame him. My moms are hot, I’m hot. It’s, like, in the family. Everyone wants a taste if Sugar, Rory. Everyone.”

“I don’t think you get this,” Rory pulled Sugar away from the crowds of high schoolers who could be eavesdropping, “Artie dated your mother. He had sex with your mother.”

Her nose scrunched up in disgust, digesting that piece of information, “Okay, ewwww. That’s so gross, oh god, ewww! Oh my god, that’s so nasty… Well, what did you say then?”

“I pulled out a stupid fucking four leaf clover and told him I wanted to date you.”

“Not bad, Pot O’ Gold, not bad. That will keep Wheels of my back for now, I think.  Now, I need a grand romantic gesture! You don’t get all this this without working a little.” Sugar winked at him, then sauntered away, hips swinging.

Rory Hummel-Anderson just stood there, absolutely dumbstruck.