Author's Note: This is my first Glee story. Its been on my phone in notes for weeks but its of course time consuming to type. My greatest issue is if they're in character. I want this to be realistic. If you haven't noticed by now my other focus is on dialog and Glee is a very rich show with its clever. The characters are 17, I'm sure some of them are 18, but Quinn and Rachel are 17 here. I may change the title but at the moment its-Never thought you were unpretty. Hopefully you enjoy this. It starts slow because I think it would. They're both strong and stubborn after all.
Wait, what? Quinn thought. When did she start to not want to shake Rachel Berry? She was unaware when the exact moment was, but the diva was in the middle of a rant. Most of the glee club had tuned her out. Even Mr. Shuester who had his arms over his vested chest. Quinn felt her eyes enlarge. Rachel's rant was longer winded than usual, she barely paused and said everything in a rush.
"Ooookay," she said slowly, interrupting Rachel, "lesson learned," she said piecing it together. "No one give man hands soda." Though she was more thinking it was adorable and painfully cute. And she just wanted to kiss her to get her to stop talking for a second but instead when Rachel opened her mouth again she cut her off. "I want to punch you in the face more than usual right now."
That remark made the highly caffeinated girl fidget. The blonde grumbled more, finding that even cute. However the diva ignored her and restarted her rant. "If everyone would pull their weight it wouldn't be mandatory to give a lecture.
Mercedes shook her head. "Please dear god make her stop," she said looking to the ceiling.
Kurt rubbed his temple and mumbled under this breath in a chant, "tuning out, tuning out."
Santana added her two cents and said nonchalantly, "Alright midget-go consume more caffeine so that you implode. As long as you leave the room so your organs don't land on my outfit."
Finn sat there staring at the wall, not coming to the girl's defense now that they had broken up recently.
It was Santana's comment that made the brunette storm out from insults after insults with her eyes tearing up. Her legs acted without hesitation and it was more like an out of body experience as she smoothly got up to follow her but stopped. She turned and faced the group.
First she pointedly focused on their teacher and verbally accosted him for letting it build and slide before making the point that the girl, not using her first name, but stuck to her last, usually storms out in anger from someone offending broadway or a standard she held of it. But never because of cruel, personal attacks and Quinn glared at them. Leaving her peers to consider that as she walked out with the thought that maybe everyone has their breaking point and the singer had come to hers. And was it asking too much that adults act like adults? She thought as she ripped the door open.
Slowly she walked out of the room, composing herself, but ran into the emotional girl who was pacing a few feet away from the door. The shorter girl stared at her in shock. Quinn's hand held her waist to keep them both balanced but dropped it as though she had touched fire.
"What're you doing?" Rachel asked unsure and with a defensive edge.
"Checking on you?" Quinn said uncertainly.
"Why?" The brunette said narrowing her eyes. The blonde shrugged-honestly unaware why she followed after the girl.
"This is an alternate universe because in reality you never do anything to outwardly express that you care," she said knowingly without malice. Quinn only frowned, words not coming to mind to defend and prove that she was offended because what Rachel said was simple truth. "You're never going to apologize," Rachel continued, "I can't expect or ask you to do something you aren't capable of," she finished and looked up at the blonde, compassion in her eyes because the self-proclaimed diva could see the cheerleader was limited and restricted herself in terms of expression. Whereas Rachel was self-aware that she had a plethora of ways she knew how to be open and honest, a bittersweet trait. Shaking her head the brunette fell back into reality and walked back into glee to see guilty looking faces of those that made eye contact. Taking her seat, Mr. Shuester resumed the lesson plan as though Rachel had never left, trying in his own way to defuse the situation.
The brunette took the chance to look around the room and noticed when Quinn walked in the fellow members looked at the head cheerleader with a mix of fear and the impression that she had three heads. Frowning at their reactions and that the blonde avoided looking at her, more so than usual, she focused on Mr. Shue's lesson that again, in her opinion lacked a challenge.
Soon enough they were done for the day. Everyone nearly jumped out of their seats to start the weekend. Puck started talking about a party at his place but the diva ignored it. She knew she should want to socialize but what was the point? It wasn't healthy to willingly be around people who didn't seem to accept her, let alone find the nerve to tolerate her. Admittedly she knew she wasn't a masochist.
"Comin' babe?" She heard the mohawk boy ask Quinn. Looking up through her bangs she watched the blonde shake her head and failed to offer a reason why. Oddly enough that had peaked her curiosity-the cheerleader never failed to decline an offer unless it had to do with some insane Sue Sylvester thing the unhinged woman pulled on them at the last minute. Rachel watched everyone file out, she was the last to go but saw Quinn at her locker, rummaging through. Against her better judgement the shorter girl went up to the taller girl and gently asked, "Are you okay?"
She was a solid two feet away from Quinn, assuming it was best to put distant between them in case the blonde did decide to punch her one day. Even though they were alone Rachel felt more than awkward.
"I'm fine," Quinn bit back and added in a lower tone, "I think trying to be...nice," she paused as though the word was foreign when connected to herself, "made me physically ill."
For a few seconds Rachel was worried, her empathy on display as her eyes enlarged until she noticed the cheerleader was barely smirking.
Oh my god. She thought. Quinn Fabray's joking with me. She frowned and crossed her arms to subtlety pinch the inside of her elbow without the other girl noticing. It hurt so it proved she didn't fall and hit her head.
"I don't want to drink, I want to be alone, but that may change by Saturday." Quinn said matter-of-factly but softened her voice at the last part.
"Okay well, enjoy your weekend," the shorter girl said politely then turned and walked away, the awkward tension dissipating with each step. Rachel heard a locker forcibly being slammed, the sound reverberating off the empty hallways but she kept walking.
While the diva was searching for her car keys that managed to get stuck in a binder, she was too busy to notice Quinn standing beside her.
"Do you want to do something together this weekend?" She asked, her voice nonchalant, obscuring the nervousness that she knew was out of character for her to ask Rachel anything. The brunette's head snapped up, knowing the voice but needing the visual proof that it was the head cheerleader.
"Did you do drugs? Also that was a very short time that I would imagine for you to take them so I have to ask if you are an avid user and are now accustomed to sneaking it and hiding it from people." Rachel said in complete disbelief and came up with the only rational solution to the girl's behavior.
The blonde chose to ignore the typical remarks and tried to hide her smirk. "I was thinking its kind of a drag to be really antisocial...but we could be antisocial collectively," she said with a smirk, knowing her joke was lame.
"Um, what did you have in mind?" Rachel asked with her frown deepening.
"I didn't think of anything, but maybe a walk," she said dully and cringed at how random that was. If they were in New York City that would make sense to say, but they both knew this was Lima, Ohio and there was trees and...malls.
"Is this a prank?" Rachel asked cutting to the chase.
"Nevermind," the teen said dejectedly and turned towards her car.
"This just doesn't make sense," the diva continued bluntly.
"I know," Quinn said tiredly and kept walking to her car.
"I'm free after six," the brunette said to the girl's back, equally tired, maybe even more so from being emotionally drained. Though it took her four seconds to consider that she had dance class and she'd want to have dinner soon after.
The taller girl smoothly pivoted and looked at her classmate.
"I'll pick you up at your house then," Quinn said with assurance, feeling secure that she'd have control of the situation and then tossed her things in the car, barely registering that the diva did the same until she drove off. The cheerleader on the other hand had to stay for intense workouts with the other cheerleaders. Sighing she walked towards the locker room. The time allowed the blonde to focus on practice and rush back to her house to shower.
On the other side of town Rachel was at her dance class trying to work out the tension to the point that her legs burned. Everyone had left a half hour ago and by the time she stopped she only felt the affects when she stiffly got into her car, drove with calm music and couldn't think of anything but a long, warm shower.
Quinn secured her oversized, white, knit hat on and looked herself over in the mirror. She also pinned an dsrk red flower that she had found at an antique store, something no one knew she enjoyed doing in her spare time. She chose a light purple baby doll dress and a black sweater, not her usual look but she felt comfortable with her hair down, not blown dry, wavy but a bit messy. Looking herself over in the mirror again she was annoyed she looked tired. Dark circles were making their presence known under her eyes. She grumbled to herself. "Should have taken a nap rather than the stupid stretching." Glancing at her clock she realized she was going to just make it on time to Rachel's. Pulling her purse off her bed and picking up the keys that she had thrown on top of it she moved fluidly down the stairs and out the door, trying to remind herself to drive slow.