Author's Note: I haven't written in quite some time, but, after hearing Christina Perri's "Arms", this little ficlet came to mind. This chapter is mostly Rachel centered with a bit of Finn/Finchel thrown into the mix. I'm expecting the next chapter to be much better. ;-) Please read and review!
Disclaimer: I do not own any form of Glee or its characters. The only thing I would consider mine is the writing and the plot. Finchel, FTW!
"I never thought that you
would be the one to hold my heart.
You came around and you knocked me
off the ground from the start."
The tardy bell rang vociferously, echoing rather vehemently against the pale pink walls of the girls' restroom. I listened as the cacophony of latecomers' footsteps slowly faded in the hall before again wiping the tears from my cheeks with a damp tissue. It was time for class, I knew, but I couldn't bring myself to stand and march across the filthy, rumored to have once been white, tiles to the grimy door and to my first period class. It was easier, safer, and infinitely more appealing to sit, huddled next to a toilet, on the bathroom floor than in a classroom full of peers who simply wished me constant pain. I'd dealt with hate on a daily basis, but there are times when even the most outwardly confident people break down; this was one of those rare moments for me. I clutched my legs ever tighter to my chest before softly dropping my prominent chin onto my uninjured knee, not bothering to swipe at the lone tear trailing down my cheek.
It wasn't unusual for Quinn Fabray to call me names, but accompanying those hurtful taunts with violence most definitely was. To be called a "Fugly Bitch" was one thing, but it was quite another for it to be followed by a very forceful shove into a locker; even without the "Whoops! Sorry about that. Hey, maybe your locker can do a better job on your nose than your parents did!" comment, I knew from the strength of her shove that Quinn had meant to cause me bodily injury. I sighed sadly, momentarily contemplating calling one of my dads to pick me up. It would be so easy, so easy, to retrieve my cell phone from my diamond studded kitten bag and dial one of their numbers…I was truly tempted, but I knew of the repercussions that would await me tomorrow if I were to disappear after the very public performance starring myself and Quinn Fabray, the very picture of perfection, innocence, and grace. I could only imagine the thoughts forming in the minds of the students in my first period class; the words that they are planning to say to Quinn concerning my absence; the laughter emanating from the whole school when they realize that it only takes a few taunts and a shove to run Rachel Berry off campus. I lifted my head from my knee as I thought of the rather probable scene and decided not to take the easy route. I furiously wiped the fresh tears away before, gingerly, getting to my feet. I leaned against the wall for a moment to inspect the damage by gently bending my knee; I winced slightly, but found that the pain was minimal, at best, upon movement. I quickly threw the tissue in the toilet, grabbed my bag, and made my way out of the stall and to the mirror above one of the many sinks. Fortunately, my 15 minutes of tears left little to no marks on my face; neither, it seemed, did the locker. I gazed into my desolate muddy browns, searching for any sign of timidity or fear; all had been erased and only determination stood in their wake. I breathed in and out deeply for 30 seconds to further calm myself before leaving the bathroom without looking back.
"Glee!"
"Have those papers on my desk Monday morning! If it isn't in front of me before the bell rings, it is considered late!" Mr. Townsend, the sophomore English teacher, yelled over the talking students and the rustling of binders being thrown haphazardly into backpacks. The majority of the students paid little to no attention to him; they all knew that if enough of them didn't do the assignment over the weekend, he would grant them all an extension.
I slowly slid my books into my bag, taking as much time as possible in the hopes that there were no students left to trip me on my way out the door, as was often the case. Upon seeing no potential perpetrators, I hurriedly left the classroom and, with my head held purposefully high, began the treacherous trek to my locker. Before I reached it, however, I heard my name being called by an unfamiliar voice over the usual roar of the crowded hallway. I stopped in my tracks, curious but guarded after this morning's "episode". I turned to find none other than Finn Hudson, McKinley High's quarterback, jogging toward me.
"Rachel, hey," he said, the absolute picture of nonchalance.
"Umm…hi…" I trailed off, bringing my eyebrows together in confusion, for Finn Hudson had yet to speak a word to me since the start of our high school careers. He didn't seem to find this odd at all, since he stood in front of me with this incredibly adorable smile lighting up his face. Suddenly, I realized that this was more than likely an elaborate ruse of some kind to further humiliate me; at this thought, I took a large step away from his tall frame. With this action, it was his turn to bring his eyebrows together in confusion.
"Hey. Sorry. I just….umm….you left this on your desk." He held out a small, hardcover notebook with a gold star on the front; my journal. I mentally kicked myself for having left it behind, while hoping beyond hope that no one had read it. I slowly extended my arm to grasp the little book, looking up at him as I did so. His eyes met mine as my hand closed around the spine of the book, gently brushing his fingers. At the brief physical contact, a sort of shock passed through my fingers and up my arm. I gasped and both of us released the book; I heard its muffled clatter as it hit the tiled floor. Finn, the gentleman that he was, immediately bent down to pick it up. His chocolate brown eyes met mine as he again handed me the book.
"S-sorry about that….Umm…Here you go," he said and I carefully pulled the book out of his grasp.
"Thank you," I whispered, breaking our gaze before clutching the book to my chest.
"You're welcome," he whispered back, his quiet words forcing me to bring my eyes back to his. His adorable, sideways grin was back and, combined with his piercing gaze, my heart began to beat faster and slower at the same time.
"Bye, Rachel," he said, flashing a wider version of that grin before turning and walking down the hall. I watched his back until he disappeared around the corner. My heart raced and my stomach fluttered incessantly. It only took one kind gesture and one brief touch for me, Rachel Berry, the most unpopular girl in school, to be charmed by Finn Hudson, the star quarterback; I may have regained the possession of my journal, but it seems as though Finn may have gained the possession of my heart.
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