Santana’s face softens and she shakes her head. “No, Britts. It’s just the name of a game. People sit on another person’s shoulders and try to knock other teams into the water.”

“Oh,” she says. “We should play, then!”

“You really want to?” she asks, a perfectly manicured eyebrow rising on her face.

Brittany nods enthusiastically, a few strands of her hair falling free from her loose bun.

Santana just stares for a moment before turning her head to glance at the pool. Other people are already partnering up. Finn has somehow convinced Rachel to come join in the fun, and she now sits somewhat unsteadily on his shoulders. Puck’s somehow sweet-talked Quinn up onto him, though she appears to have a death grip on him as he swaggers around the shallow end. Blaine and Mike decide to work the grill while everyone plays, leaving Sam without a partner.

“Santana,” he calls, “Come be on my team?”

She stands, holding her hand out to Brittany, who jumps up with a beamingly bright smile and immediately links their pinkies. “Sorry, Trouty Mouth. We play for different teams. Britts and I are going to beat you all.”

Brittany drags Santana to the pool steps and they both walk in, Santana then carefully helping the other girl up onto her shoulders.

With a laugh, Tina stands from her lounge area. “Come on, Sam. I’ll be your partner, since Mike’s helping cook.”

Sam grins, high fiving her as soon as she walks into the pool. “Thanks, Tina! We got this.”

“You better not let me fall. This water is cold.”

“You get used to it, though,” he says with a grin, helping her up onto his shoulders.

Before the game begins, Puck turns to yell. “Hummel! Come get your ass in the water!”

“No thanks, Noah – I like my body temperature at a normal level,” he answers, a sharp roll of his eyes making Mercedes laugh.

Puck turns back around, facing his competition – earning a squeal from Quinn. “Suit yourself. But one way or another today, you’re getting wet.”

Kurt shrugs, laughs it off, but inside, his heart skyrockets into his throat. He’s kidding. He would never.

Mercedes turns to him, waving a hand in front of his face in an attempt to get his attention. “You okay? Just ignore Puck. He’s just sour because he knows he’s going to lose.” She pulls her sunglasses back down into place. “Personally, I’m betting on Sam and Tina. They look the most stable out of all of them out there.”

As soon as the words leave her mouth, the game is on. Brittany immediately hooks her hands with Rachel, leaving Tina and Quinn to fight. The partners on the bottom all have death grips on their ankles, trying to hold them in place.

It doesn’t take long for the first team to fall.

Santana starts screaming in Spanish at Finn, trying to distract him, and Brittany manages to wrench her hands just so, sending Rachel toppling face first over Finn’s shoulder into the cold water. Her fall throws him off balance, and his feet slide out from under him on the slick pool bottom, one foot at a time. His right knee buckles first, sending him flailing in that direction, throwing his arms out to try to grab onto something before he falls.

Which just sends him crashing into Puck.

Sam manages to step back quick enough that Tina isn’t hit as Quinn falls forward over Puck’s shoulders, dragging him down with her. The two stay under for about thirty seconds before resurfacing with a cough and a sputter. Quinn shoves her hair out of her face and looks up at Tina and Brittany, both vying to be the winner.

They twist and jerk each other’s hands harshly as Sam and Santana stare each other down, trying to focus intently on keeping their partners from slipping. But between the big waves that the other two teams created when they went down and the fallen people swimming to the edge to get out, it’s hard to stay steady. Sam gets hit in the face with a particularly large splash, and he lets go of Tina’s right ankle for a split second to wipe his face.

It’s just long enough. Brittany laughs loudly and jerks her off to the side, sending her sliding down Sam’s arms and into the cool water. She jumps down off Santana’s shoulders, hugging her triumphantly.

“We won!” she cries as Tina resurfaces.

Tina just smiles and holds her hand out to Brittany. “Good game,” she says with a chuckle. “You’re stronger than I realized.”

Brittany clasps her hand for a second before pulling the other girl in for a hug. Finn claps Santana on the shoulder, and Quinn swims over to congratulate them as well.

Puck, however, swims to the edge of the pool, pulling himself up over the edge and out. The first thing he does when he gets on the desk is grab the hose that’s laying out, holding it out in front of him like a lethal weapon, his finger hovering dangerously above the trigger.

“Who ran into me?” he asks, turning the hose on Finn, who immediately throws his hands up in a surrender. No way he’s going to admit to it.

He tilts the hose slightly to the right, aiming it at Rachel.

“Really, Noah?” she asks, hands resting on her hips. “If you think I could have pushed you over and under then maybe you were in the sun too long earlier.”

The next target is Santana, who simply raises an eyebrow as if daring him to try to come after her. He shakes his head for a second before turning around to move on to Mike.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Blaine pipes up, slowly flipping a burger over on the grill. Mike stands next to him, also holding a spatula. “If you want to eat, that is. Relighting the grill will take ages if you put it out.”

Puck sighs loudly, his eyes narrowing, but turns back towards the people in the pool. “Someone’s going to pay.” He scans the crowd, but nobody appears to be in any hurry to speak up. “Well, if no one’s going to admit it, then I guess that means it’s free for all!”

He squeezes down on the trigger, the water coming out in a harsh, fast stream that slams into Sam’s chest. But he doesn’t stop there – one by one, he attacks his friends. Mike ends up dropping the spatula and making a running dive for the deep end to avoid getting hit. Mercedes – who is still innocently lounging in a chair, talking to Kurt – gets drenched.

She cries out in protest, and it’s enough to distract Kurt for the slightest of seconds. He tears his gaze away from Puck to make sure Mercedes is okay, and that’s when he feels it.

His shirt instantly clings to his body for dear life, and he screams before he realizes it. Puck just laughs, yelling, “Finally got you, Hummel!” before running off to corner Brittany.

Kurt can barely hear her squeals over his own heartbeat. The second he registers the water, he lunges for a towel, wrapping it tightly around himself. So… why is he still a boy?

I’m not cold. The water’s warm, he realizes. The hose had been in the sun. You’re safe.

Mercedes snaps her head towards him at his scream. “Kurt! Jesus. Are you alright?”

He stares blankly at her, breathing heavily, his knuckles white from the grip on the towel. She waves a hand in front of his face, trying to pull focus again. “Kurt? Say something, baby. It’s just water.”

But he just pushes himself up onto unsteady legs and shakes his head quickly. “I – I’m fine. I just – it surprised me, that’s all. I didn’t want to get wet. I’m going to,” he cuts himself off, swallowing thickly. “I’m going to go inside, okay? Dry off. Warm up. Something. Maybe I’ll change back into my jeans. Do you think that would get Puckerman to leave me alone? He wouldn’t soak someone in normal clothes, would he?”

Mercedes just tilts her head to the side, looking up at him with concerned eyes. “Seriously, Kurt, are you okay? You seem really jumpy or something,” she says, ringing out her hair.

“I’m fine. I just – need to go. Tell Blaine for me? Don’t worry him, just… if he asks where I am, tell him I went back inside.”

He backs away from the chair slowly, stumbling over an empty watering can. It clatters away from him, rolling toward the fence around the deck, and Kurt looks up suddenly, his eyes wide.

Puck turns around towards him with a menacing look. “Trying to sneak away, Hummel?”

Kurt holds his hands up in mock surrender, as Finn had done earlier. “You already hit me, Puck. I wasn’t even in the pool to push you under earlier.” He takes a few more steps backwards. About 7 more steps, and he’ll reach the door to get back inside.

Puck takes a step forward, and squeezes the trigger once – not hard enough for the stream to get all the way to Kurt, but enough to make a few drops bounce off the deck and hit his leg.

And they’re cold.

“Just let me go inside and – and finish getting… lunch ready. Yeah, lunch. Teenage boys can always eat, right?”

But Puck’s eyes are gleaming. He practically has Kurt cornered, and the rest of New Directions is just cheering him on.

Kurt chances a quick glance over to the pool and scowls. “Finn, shouldn’t you be on my side? You’re my brother.”

Finn shrugs. He laughs, grabbing Sam and tossing him out further into the deep end. “He’s gotten all of us, bro. It’s totally your turn.”

Quinn briefly halts her splashing war with Brittany. “It’s just water, Kurt – come on! It’s a pool party! Let your hair down a bit.”

Kurt grumbles, “Like you’re one to talk about letting your hair down, Quinn,” but she doesn’t hear. Everyone is caught up in their own games, their own small wars, their own laughter.

No one pays much attention to Puck as he begins running towards Kurt.

Kurt takes off in the other direction, trying to put as much distance between himself and Puck as possible. He dodges toys and chairs and plants, running as quickly as he can, but the deck is slick and he still has a towel wrapped around himself. Puck begins to gain on him quickly.

“As soon as I get close enough to you, you’re dead!” he calls, and Kurt just runs faster, slippery deck be damned.

They make almost a full lap around the pool, and the door into the house is within sight. Just a bit further and he’ll be able to get away and avoid everything.

But he doesn’t take into account the fact that the rest of the glee club is all on Puck’s side. They want him to get drenched. Santana grabs the edge of the dangling towel as he runs past and tugs. Hard.

And Kurt – he goes tumbling into the pool.