Author's Note: I do not own Glee. I do not own any songs used. A word to the wise - I write what I know.
Chapter 1: It's Always the Quiet One
Shelby Kolton had a heavy mind as she walked through the halls of McKinley High. Currently empty of students, they accurately reflected the disconnection from her peers she was feeling. Another doctor's appointment had been the cause of her tardiness, and she could think of no reason to hurry to class. Some new flyers that had been posted on the nearby bulletin board were a perfect distraction. There were a few articles about various school and community events as well as more random things like a poster that read "Lima, you know, like the bean." She chuckled to herself a little. As if there was anyone who was unsure of the town's pronunciation. What caught her attention most however, was a single sheet of blue copy paper that had a sign-up for a glee club called "New Directions."
That's new, she thought, and not to mention accurate with a name like that. She was intrigued by the idea and genuinely wanted to sign-up. Although she had never sung in front of anyone but her cat, she knew she could carry a tune and it would be nice to be involved in something a little more lively than the church choir. The only real thing holding her back was the same reason she was going to have to quit the Cheerios. She had only not done it already as she was dreading being the bearer of bad news to Coach Sylvester. As a talented senior on the squad, she was going to be expected to take a head cheerleading position. The coach was infamous for her less than virtuous treatment of students, and would not take the resignation of a potential star well at all. But as frightening as the wrath of Coach Sylvester was, she mostly dreaded the conversation because it was to be the first of many like it. Well, technically the second. Virtually no one knew what she had been through over the summer. The select few who did were on a strict need-to-know basis, and most had been present during the meeting with Principal Figgins that took place just before the end of summer break.
"Principal Figgins?" Shelby knocked on the door politely although the door was already open. "I'm here for our meeting."
"Yes, come in and have a seat." The principal answered. There were three empty chairs for her and her parents, which they took. She had never been in the principal's office before and was slightly intimidated by the number of people in it. The school counselor, the dean, some faculty in charge of scheduling, and the school nurse were all seated around the rather small office. They all needed to know her situation, and she could not hide from them any longer if she wanted to continue school. "I understand that you wish to continue school despite having, erm, extenuating circumstances."
"Yes, sir," She took a deep breath. It was time to drop the bomb. "I have cancer." Cue looks of shock and concern from everyone except Figgins, who had learned over the phone when the meeting was scheduled. She continued, "Hodgkin's Lymphoma to be exact. I was diagnosed this summer and will be undergoing chemotherapy throughout the year. I do wish to continue school in spite of this, so my question is: can arrangements be made to make this possible? Building a schedule would be the first thing. Can I take fewer classes or only attend a few times a week?"
"That would be up to our schedule coordinators. Can we accommodate a schedule that addresses her health?" Figgins replied.
"And preferably still lets me graduate in the spring?" She added hopefully.
"I think that can be arranged," said one of the administrators. "To graduate, you must take either government or economics for social studies, a year-long literature course for English, and it would be advised that you take another year of math to strengthen your college applications. All of these classes are offered in the afternoon periods, so we could allow you to have mornings off when aren't feeling well or open study period when you can catch up when you are."
"There may be days where I will be too sick to come at all," Shelby warned.
"As long as your absences are excused in advance, I think we should be able to make an exception in the attendance policy if needed," said Figgins, looking at the dean when he spoke, who confirmed with a nod.
Turning to the school nurse she asked, "And if I come to school and start to feel sick or tired, can I assume I have a place to go and lie down or sleep for a while?"
"Of course," she replied. "You are also free to call home if it gets too bad."
"Shelby, I just want you to know that my office is always open if you need someone to talk to," added Miss Pillsbury, the school counselor. "Anything you tell me will be confidential."
"Thank you, Miss Pillsbury. Speaking of confidentiality, can I ask that what we discussed today stays in this room as much as possible? I'd like to tell people myself, when I'm ready. Including my teachers." Nods were received from everyone.
"I know that you are on the Cheerios, do you plan to continue to that as well?" inquired Figgins.
"No, and Coach Sylvester has yet to be informed. So please, please, please do not tell her!" Shelby practically begged.
"Why would we want to?" asked one of the administrators, looking quite frightened. The others looked scared too, but almost laughed in agreement.
"Thank you all so much for your cooperation," said her father, speaking up for the first time. Her parents had been there more for moral support than anything else. He shook hands with the principal and let Shelby and her mother out of the room. "That wasn't so bad was it?" He asked her on the way out.
Truthfully, Shelby hated being the center of attention and found the beginning quite awkward, but she had somehow found some inner strength hidden deep inside as the conversation went on. "No, it wasn't," she admitted. But in the back of her mind she thought six down, an entire student body to go.
Since that day, the only other people Shelby had told were her three teachers, who thankfully were more than willing to accept her condition and how it would affect her schoolwork. None of her friends knew because, well, she didn't really have many close friends. None that she felt she could confide in with something so personal. She kept herself very sheltered from others, which normally didn't bother her, but lately she had started to feel extremely isolated. Until now, she had gotten through high school by keeping a low profile and avoiding getting into trouble of any kind. Her peers knew her as the quiet one who sat in the back of the room not to get away with slacking off, but to ensure she was not the center of attention. The friends she did have knew little more than this about her. They were more than classmates, but less than true friends. She sat with them at lunch, partnered with them on group projects, and occasionally saw some of them outside of school at the mall or at the movies, yet not a single one of them knew much about her. They had never been to her house or met her family, and they definitely didn't know she could sing. She honestly didn't know what they would think if she joined the glee club.
The glee club remained in her mind all day long. She kept walking by the sign-up sheet during each passing time to see who else was signing up. Mostly she just read the names, but she did witness a few in person. One poor sophomore girl even took a slushie to the face. That must really sting the eyes, Shelby thought. It was no surprise to her that no juniors or seniors had signed up. There was no way in hell they would risk their carefully built reputations to be in something as socially stigmatizing as a glee club. It had taken them years to get where they were in the social hierarchy, and would take only a few short seconds of adding their John Hancock to list of glee club members to destroy it. The underclassmen on that list had guts to take on the social stigma so early. There was a good chance that their reputations would never recover from such a blow. On the other hand, perhaps it was better that they joined young. They had nothing to lose that way. If what their peers thought was not important to them, Shelby had to give them props for doing what few others would even consider doing. That included herself.
That could be another reason Shelby felt drawn to the glee club. She would have nothing to lose this year either. Hell, she was going to be stigmatized enough as it was, why not join glee club? As for ruining a reputation, she didn't really have one to destroy. She had learned that no one really noticed her when she was the quiet one in the corner of the classroom. People liked her well enough and she had many casual friendships, as well as a few closer ones, but she rarely attended social outings and her only extracurricular had been the Cheerios. Years of gymnastics and karate as a kid had made her flexible and strong, so she had excellent control over her body. Being a Cheerio was fun, and she loved it, but she didn't join to make friends. Most cheerleaders weren't exactly the kind of girls she wanted to befriend. She even got along with Coach Sylvester most of the time (as well as someone can get along with Coach Sylvester, that is). Mostly, she just avoided getting in the coach's way. In fact, she had memorized her whereabouts throughout the day to accomplish just that. This came in handy today especially as she had not worn her uniform to school today. Some of the other Cheerios had noticed, but she told them she was having it dry-cleaned. Strangely enough, they seemed to believe it. Then again, people often believe what they want to hear, and she couldn't trust them not to spread around the rumor that she was quitting. This would only get her through one day however, so today had to be the day to tell Coach Sylvester.
Shelby's memory told her that Sue Sylvester was currently in her office. It was now or never. As she approached however, she could overhear a conversation coming from inside. The coach was on the phone with someone.
"I'm going to have to completely rethink my routines now. I thought about those all summer! All because there'll be a different head cheerleader than the one I was counting on."
That's odd, Shelby thought. Then she gasped. Unless…
"Shelby Kolton won't be on the squad this year, I'm kicking her out," said the coach's voice. She knows! thought Shelby. Her heart sank. Panic swept through her mind. How did she know? Who told her?
"She won't look uniform with the others if she won't have any hair to pull back into a ponytail. And I doubt there's a wig in the world that'll withstand one of my routines…" No, she didn't! Shelby had heard enough. She barged right into the coach's office and interrupted her.
"Coach Sylvester! What is the meaning of this!" she demanded.
"I'll call you back," the coach hung up the phone. She clearly didn't mean for Shelby to overhear the conversation, but also didn't seem to regret it. "Good, Shelby, I was just looking to talk to you. You're off the squad."
"Why? Because I'll lose my hair! What kind of pathetic excuse is that?" Shelby waited a moment for a reply, but for once the coach was speechless. Shelby had never shown this kind of raw emotion before, so she had probably been caught off-guard by the normally quiet student's sudden outburst. "No, you know what? Don't answer that. Go ahead and throw me off the squad. Throw me off because I won't have the energy, or I won't have my usual flexibility once I get my port, or I just won't be able to take the smell of body spray in the locker room without puking, fine. I was going to quit for those reasons anyway. But do NOT throw me off because I'll lose my hair! For that, I'm quitting right here and now!" and with that she pulled her uniform out of her backpack and threw it down on the coach's desk. She stormed to the door, considering slamming it for a moment. Then she had a better idea. "You know, Miss Sylvester? I think the whole hair thing is just a mask. I think it's just your way of dealing with a stressful situation, and you can't bear the idea of having to watch me suffer. The less you see of me, the less you'll have to deal with that negative emotion. If I'm not on the Cheerios, that pretty much guarantees that, doesn't it?" Shelby knew she had had that last word and promptly strode confidently out of the office. She must have hit a raw nerve with her now former coach as she called after her down the hallway. "Shelby! Shelby!" But she just kept walking.
Shelby was in such a rage after the confrontation with Sue Sylvester that she just wandered the halls of McKinley High somewhat aimlessly. The farther she walked, the more the adrenaline wore off and she began to feel the pain. She had avoided thinking about losing her hair because it was honestly something she had been dreading. The thought of losing her long, golden blonde hair that fell slightly below her shoulder blades caused her great anxiety, and she consequently had not given it much thought. She wasn't in denial; she just avoided thinking about it. The heated conversation, though it had really been one-sided with Shelby doing all of the talking, had been a wake-up call that she it would be impossible to avoid the issue much longer. Avoiding her problems would not make them disappear; it would only prolong the inevitable.
Dissociation would no longer be a suitable defense mechanism, and anxiety began to flood her mind. She was worried about how Miss Sylvester found out. Knowing her, she probably used bribery or some other devious method, but it still made Shelby worry that others could find out too. Suddenly, she also realized that the other Cheerios probably knew. They hadn't believed her lie about her uniform getting dry cleaned; they had just gone along with it. Considerable restraint was needed for her to keep herself from using profanities against them. It was no wonder none of them were her friends. Tears pooled in her eyes and threatened to flow over her eyelids. The feeling of being lonely overwhelmed her, and made her want to be anywhere but the halls of McKinley High.
Don't stop believin'
Hold on to that feelin'
Streetlights, people
What was that? Music? How did she get in front of the auditorium? Curious, she went inside. But she stayed at the top, near the entrance where she wouldn't be seen.
Don't stop believin'
Hold on to that feelin'
Streetlights, people
Don't stop!
All of a sudden, someone started clapping. Shelby recognized the man as Mr. Schuester, who was the Spanish teacher if she recalled correctly. He was applauding the six students onstage who had just finished the Journey song. His posture was filled with pride, as was his voice when he began to speak to them. She couldn't hear exactly what he was saying, but the gist of it sounded like he was proud of what they put together but they also had a lot of work ahead of them, and he was going to help them. The students were excited to see him and immediately began their number again when he had finished speaking. Of course, the glee club! she thought, finally reaching an epiphany. All at once, she knew what she had to do next.