Scribble. Scribble.

Scratch. Scribble.

Scribble.

What on earth is she writing?

Rachel tilts her head to the left, eyes carefully roaming the classroom of students before falling to Quinn. Thankfully the blond kept focus on her paper. Rachel didn't want to enrage her any further than she already did. Though the brunette thought it stupid. It started in first period when their teacher walked in. Rachel hadn't meant to, but really, Quinn sat right by the door and it wasn't her fault that she just happened to look and caught her gaze.

And she just kept staring. With that arch of her eyebrow.

Occasionally her hazel eyes did dipped down once or twice but they came right back up. And sure, her gaze didn't exactly meet Rachel's but she realized it was either A: her forehead, or B: her hair she kept staring at.

C would have been the wall but Quinn wasn't looking that far up.

And Rachel was fairly convinced the choice was B. She'd done it up in a pony tail that morning so her newly cut bangs would be noticeable. Unlike the beginning of the year where they fell straight across rather to the side. But because she hardly style her hair in such a way, pony tails gave her headaches. Having all her hair pulled back in a tight knot felt like the skin on her forehead would explode.

One of the many reasons cheerleading was one club she didn't try to join.

So naturally Rachel let her hair down throughout the day and looking at Quinn's contained locks of blond curls brought on the urge to free her own from theirs. And she did. It was when she did that Quinn finally looked her. Like the action of her hands on her head broke whatever concentration Quinn had with her hair and realized Rachel was staring back.

And she had the nerve to get angry.

Rachel huffed out her frustration, dropping her pencil on her desk and folding her arms over her chest. If anything she should be angry, not Quinn.

If staring is so bad, then she shouldn't do it either.

She rolled her eyes and tried focusing on Mr. Marshall repeat his lecture from yesterday of the operations of functions for division.

Scribble scribble scribble scribble.

Or was it multiplication?

Scratch scratch. Scratch scribble.

UGH!

Rachel head banged on the desk. Absolutely no one in the room found any reason to jot down notes but apparently the cheerleader and her obnoxiously loud pencil did. Turning her head away from the noise, she let the cold surface press against her cheek. Maybe she was rewriting what ever it was she tore up in first period.

More like murdered.

The girl had practically shoved her eraser much to roughly across her paper, it tore in half. All which could have been avoid if Quinn controlled her rage. A minute went by with Quinn gapping before angrily crumbling it into a ball and tossing it to the trash.

"Rachel, Rachel Berry."

"Hm…what? I mean, yes sir?" she winced, her neck straining. How people feel asleep in class was beyond her. She rubbed her neck before adding. "My apologies, I didn't hear your question."

Mr. Marshall brows furrowed together. "That's because I didn't. I advice you don't sleep in my class. Your grade might be good in here but it's not great." Rachel's eyes widen and she sunk into her chair. How dare he accuse her of such ridicule and bash out her grade for the class to hear!

"I.. I wasn't sleeping," she stated but seeing all the writing on the board drained her face of color.

What is that? What is that? When did he start a new lesson? Oh God, I didn't. I couldn't of fall sleep.

His scowl dropped and sighed. "See me after class but for now, join the class and pair off with someone." He turned to write something on the board, stopping and turning back. "Actually no, Quinn?"

Oh God no. Kill me now.

"Yea?"

I'm so not giving you an autograph when I'm famous.

"Mind pairing of with Rachel?"

Ha! Big mistake old man. You're devious little plan is ruined.

The blonde let the question hang in the air, her expression unreadable.

"Not that I mind, but why can't you ge-"

"Great!" Mr. Marshall turned and wrote the classes assignment. Thinking it was up for discussion Quinn rose from her seat only to get cut off again. "You're the best in this class, show Rachel a thing or two." Rachel covered her face with both her hands. Humiliated not once but twice.

Quinn? As in Quinn Fabray show Rachel Berry a thing or two?

In what parallel universe did she wake up in? Maybe if she stayed still she'd realize she was still dreaming.

"…Right so.." Rachel's hands dropped to her mouth, peering over them and witnessing Quinn not just speaking to her but taking the seat next to her. "I don't have my textbook." Rachel dumbly stared at Quinn.

"You're not even prepared and you're the best in the class?"

Rachel held her breath. She honestly hadn't meant it to sound so skeptic . Then again, she should be angry. She shouldn't let what happened in first period slip by. Quinn's hand flicked her notebook to a clear page with a jaw set, brow arched, shoulders back and reached over Rachel to get to the textbook and said nothing. It was only when she pointed to the book that she spoke. "Do the equation."

She was kidding herself. As much as it had bothered her she hadn't been angry. She sighed, picking up her pencil and did the equation. It was simple enough, and waited for further commands from the blonde. She looked over finally, fingers angling the paper for her to look over. Rachel took the opportunity to look at Quinn's page, gasping at her work. Or rather the lack there of.

"How.. What? Are they even right?" her hand reached for the notebook and Quinn lowly hissed at her.

" Give that back!" she tore the book from the brunette's hand and if Rachel didn't know any better the girl's face turned a bright pink.

"Oh my gosh, you're cheating." Rachel hissed back. Quinn fixed her with a glare.

"Why do you always accuse me with cheating?"

"…Well, are you?"

"No!"

"Then why is your face so flushed? Did I catch you on the act?" Quinn's brow twitched, cheeks going from pink to red.

" There's no problem solving, and I see no calculator in hand. For crying out loud, you're almost done." her attempt to reach for the notebook again went unsuccessful when Quinn pushed it to the end of her desk.

"I don't have to explain anything to you."

"Uh. Yeah, you kinda do." Rachel jabbed a thumb in the direction of their teacher.

"Explain."

If eyes could kill..

"Fine." Quinn stated. "You're answer is wrong."

"I.. what?" the brunette blinked and stared down at Quinn's tapping finger. She proceeded to explain why and where she made a mistake. Pushing the paper back under Rachel's hand, the blonde grabbed Rachel's pencil and wrote out what was to be done. She listened, glancing when ever Quinn tapped her finger against the textbook but overall just staring at the girl.

"Got it?" Rachel found herself staring at her pencil. Taking hold of it she nodded before trying the next problem. She felt like an insect under Quinn's microscope while she finished but realize that she wasn't even watching her. The cheerleader was up with her notebook and turning it in to Mr. Marshall. They exchanged a few words while he looked over her paper. He pointed to something and Quinn checked, shaking her head. He took a second, laughed and ripped the paper from the notebook, scribbling what Rachel assumed would be her grade. The page lifted, a red one hundred written across the top.

Rachel's jaw dropped.

Quinn tight smile grazed her features. Clearly she found no amusement in her own grade and Rachel felt like yelling. Barely ten minutes had passed and this cheerleader had finished twenty three… twenty five problems! How was she not praising herself in her brilliance? She just looked like she wanted her notebook back with her hand outstretched to grab it from her teachers desk and when she did Mr. Marshall did a double take.

"Whoa, you draw?" Quinn eyes widen in the slightest her gaze moving around the class. She was shaking her head, flustered that half the class looked up to see what their teacher was talking about.

"No- I mean.. I doodle-" She cleared her throat. Taking a moment, glaring at her peers till they looked away and another to shift her attention back to her math teacher. "I just doodle."

Rachel huffed a breath, figuring it best she start on the next problem. Resting her cheek against her propped up knuckles, she wrote the equation.

She sure does, one of the many talents of Quinn. Go check her artwork in the bathroom walls.

The brunette rubbed her forehead and ran her fingers through her hair. The equation could wait, she didn't understand it anyway and it only fueled her frustration. She placed the pencil between the crease of her textbook and worked to untie her hair again. Shaking her hair loose, did she glance at Quinn. She was still by the teachers desk and he had her notebook again. Fascinated by her drawings she was sure. He took several seconds before turning to the next page then the next. Quinn had grabbed hold onto a chair, Rachel noticed, and fell into it, sinking down it the furthest she could manage. The brunette rolled her eyes, but smiled. It was quite adorable really.

They're just doodles, she shouldn't be so embarrassed. Unless, you know. She has pornographic ones in there.

She shuttered at the possibility, the smile dying when Mr. Marshall held the notebook in her direction. He squinted, held it closer then back again.

Please don't tell me you still draw such crap!

Her mind was screaming, desperate to get some sort of telepathic response from the blonde. The only thing she got was Quinn's cheeks and neck turning red when she caught Rachel's eyes.

"You did this one today? Looks like her." Both there gazes snapped to the man. He gestured for Rachel to come over and dumbly enough she did. Quinn had her arms crossed over her chest by then, face turned away.

"Take a look." He tilted the notebook her way, flipping a few pages back. She glanced to him, then at Quinn who didn't budge an inch away from the focus she had on the window and finally down to the paper.

Her breath caught in her throat. They weren't hideous. They weren't even doodles!

" These.. Aren't doodles." she managed. Her digits lightly running over the art. Clearly Quinn did these in first period. One sketch had her reading, the title of the novel from their English class easy to read from the cover. Another was just of her profile, hand resting against her cheek.

"They sure aren't. What do you think about this one?" he shifted and glanced at the paper and turned to another page. "This one she did in here, I'm sure." This time Rachel took the notebook into her hands. Quinn finally got the nerve to glance at her, but the brunette didn't notice. She was in to much awe at what she was staring at. It was so simple, but Quinn found some way to catch the essence of Rachel Barbara Berry. The determination in her eyes, the slight tilt of her head that reminded her of her dad when he spoke of politics. A smile so true that she wasn't sure she was capable of it. But what she liked best was that her hair was down. Not up like she'd been wearing it during the class period. The soft flow of her hair ran free and it was then that she realize the star framing the art work.

" It's breathtaking. I actually look pretty."

Quinn glanced downward. A sad smile gracing her lips. She shook her head and returned to glance out the window.

" You are beautiful."

And I am so sorry I made you think otherwise.