Author's Note: Tell me what you think? It's a little rough since I came up with it while trying to cure my writer's block. Meh. This is a Faberry story.

=Q-R-Q-R=

Chapter 1

"Honey, your gay is definitely showing."

I jump in surprise when my best friend leans closer to me and whispers in my ear. I roll my eyes and bumped him with my shoulder so he would stop invading my space. We are currently having our lunch on our usual table located on one corner of the room, away from civilization. This is where the outcasts meet. Unfortunately for Kurt and me, we are deemed to be at the most bottom of all the bottom of the totem pole simply because we are born gay.

Our fate has been sealed the first day we ever set foot in the halls of McKinley because like what Kurt said, our gay was showing even by the way we handle ourselves.

"I can't help it, Kurt," I sigh and look up at him with a shrug, and then resume staring at the most beautiful being I have ever seen in my entire miserable life—I know that's probably the corniest and widely used description ever...but oh well—as if it's the most natural thing for me to do.

Like I care if my gay is showing, right? Everybody knows I'm gay, which is actually the reason why our table is far away from the real world because the idiots think they might catch our gayness. I won't even be surprise if the whole state of Ohio knows. I'm gay and proud—being raised by two gay dads made me very open-minded about a lot of things. And they had taught me so well and I am living it with my head held high.

It's just too bad we are living in this part of the state where homosexuality is treated as if it was a plague. People won't even dare get near you in fear of getting the 'disease'. I mean, seriously? Can't they get any more real than that? They should start reading some scientific facts so they can stop being homophobic bigots and accept the reality that homosexuals exist in the society whether they like it or not. We are creations of God too. People with feelings. We just happen to be living a different life.

Alas. I guess I am fated to be born here to suffer the brickbats, swallow all the insults and simply suck it up. Because, yeah. It's not like there's anything I can do about it, right?

And out of all the crap that is in this town, there's this one person who had made it all seem worthwhile.

My best friend, Kurt...

Nah.

Don't get me wrong. He's my best friend and all and he is special to me. In a platonic way. He is like the gayest thing that ever walked on earth. I guess that's why we clicked the first time we met. You know the saying? Birds with the same feathers...are the same birds? Or something like that.

Anyway, this person is a girl. Of course. I'm gay remember? And she's the girl I'm openly staring at right now like a creep. Sometimes I think I'm worse than Jacob Ben Israel. And that's saying something. But...ugh. I just can't help it.

You know that feeling when you look at this person and you feel your intestines are getting tied up in knot? Or when you feel so giddy all of a sudden? Or when your heart feels like its jumping all around your chest? And then no matter how bad your day is, just looking at this person makes it all better and the frown in your face turns in to smiles? That's how I feel every time I lay my eyes on her. It's just so overwhelming I can't help but stare.

Oh and her name is Quinn Fabray. I already started appreciating her even before she became the Head Cheerio. Before all this hierarchy crap happened. And she's a bitch to everyone except to Santana and Brittany—her super hot best friends (What? I'm gay!), and her good-for-nothing-football-captain-slash-quarterbac k-who-always-lead-their-team-to-loserdome boyfriend, Finn Hudson. I only see her laugh and relax when she's around them—Yes. I look at her all the freaking time. I thought we had established that already.

Sigh. She's like the most beautiful being I have ever seen—oh wait. I already said that. Well, it's true. Her face is just so angelic and sweet and she has this husky voice that made her sound so sexy and these amazing hazel eyes…that are glaring at me right now.

Oopps. Got caught staring again.

I wince when I see her lean to Santana and whisper to her ear. Santana look at my direction with her infamous smirk plastered on her lips. Gah. That's never a good sign. I quickly turn my head away and focus on...anything else that isn't Quinn. I won't be surprise if by the time I get out of this lunchroom, I would get my second dose of daily ice facial. I got the first one just this morning. Tsk. I just can't get any more obvious with my blatant staring. Maybe I should start wearing shades so I could hide my eyes. Would that be too weird? Yes? Fine.

"I must admit. Your obsession with her is becoming a little unsettling."

I diverted my attention to Kurt who is giving me this look with a quirk of his brow, his eyes glowing in amusement. I huff and roll my eyes. Obsession? What obsession?

"It's just a little girl crush, Kurt."

He gives me that are-you-kidding-me look, "Little girl crush? Seriously, Rach. You've been crushing on her since freshmen year. We're juniors now. And yet you still find yourself gawking at her ass every single day for the last two years. If that's not obsession then I don't know what that is."

Again, I roll my eyes and huff. I would stomp my foot too but it's only as effective when I'm standing, "I'm sure I'll get over it soon."

Kurt replies with a 'Huh' as if I just told him a very ridiculous joke. I know I didn't sound so convincing. Even I wasn't able to convince myself. And I've been trying for years! Every time I find myself staring at this gorgeous blonde, I will always ask myself 'When is that soon?' Because apparently, my 'little girl crush' is taking so long to fade away. I mean, isn't it enough that I am living a life in misery already? Do I have to suffer the painful fate of having an unrequited love as well?

Ugh.

And I don't even know her! We haven't even talked yet (as if it's going to happen). I only see her from a far distance. Like I said, she's a bitch and she really scares me. A lot. More than Santana Lopez ever could—and they say Santana is the female version of Satan. Yes. I am that scared of one Quinn Fabray.

She's scary because she's unpredictable. She's hard to read. One time she can be an angel with a little halo on top of her head and the next, a devil with two horns and a tail, carrying a pitchfork and chasing people away. Sometimes I even think she's bipolar. At least Santana is consistent with being a she-devil.

A kiss on my cheek and an arm wrapping around my waist wakes me up from my musing. I look up to be greeted by a smirking Mohawk jock beside me. I smile at him and lean in to his embrace. His presence is very comforting to me.

"What's up my little Jewish princess?"

Ahh. Noah, my faux boyfriend of some sort. I'd like to think he's more of a brother to me though, but the constant flirting and physical affection makes that thought a little weird for me. But still, I love him like a family. Unlike his other football buddies, he never treats me badly despite of my sexuality. And for that, I can never be thankful enough to have him in my life. I'm proud of him for being a better person and not succumb to the foolishness of the so-called 'social hierarchy' despite of his popularity. The girls seem to be doting of his charm that sometimes I find myself getting jealous of him. Meh. He's a teenage boy. I can't compare to that simple fact alone.

"The usual. Ogling miss Head Cheerio."

I scowl at my soon to be ex-bestfriend. Does he really have to do that? It's not like I'm proud of my own creepiness, "Shut your mouth, baby face."

"Aww. Is my little Jewbabe not over her girl crush yet?"

Little? Why does he always say that? I am not that small! Huff.

Noah teases me as if I'm some pre-school who has been experiencing some silly crush for the first time. I scoff and glare at him.

"Oh is this about Barbie again?"

"As usual."

I shift my glare from Noah to the black diva, Mercedes, who just arrive and sit beside Kurt, followed by Sam, Tina and Mike, completing our group of misfits.

Okay. So I'm not really as lonesome as I say. I have a few friends. There are three jocks who like to sit with us and don't give a shit with ruining the balance between the popular and the losers, as well as the gayness of yours truly and my best friend, Kurt.

But then again, Sam and Mike are dating Mercedes and Tina, respectively, so they are kind of friends by association. But they're cool and after hanging out on a few occasions, they are finally convinced that we can be deemed 'cool' too without the need to wear letterman jackets or red skirt's—unlike how everybody sees us. If only people would stop being freaking judgmental and look at us for who we really are and not how we chose to live our life.

"Hey guys," I greet them with a smile, choosing to ignore Mercedes' statement even if I don't like her calling Quinn, Barbie.

Not that I don't want to defend Quinn, because if the situation calls for it, I will lay my life for her—another cliché. I know. But what isn't in this situation, right? A loser who is head over heels with the most popular girl in school. That's been like, a favorite theme in a lot of cliché movies.

Anyway, I love defending Quinn. It's just that every time I do, these people who I call friends will either tease me to death or say not so good things about Quinn—I don't like it when they do that—and then shove it on my face, asking me that same question over and over again.

What did you ever see in her?

Hmft. Some friends they are. Like I don't already know how much of a stuck up bitch she is. Yeah, I know. That's not so nice of me to say either.

But that's just it. We know what is outside of her shell. But nobody really knows the real her (except maybe Santana and Brittany. I heard they have been inseparable since they were mere zygotes). I am certain that there is more to her than what she shows. I believe that she isn't just another pretty face. I don't usually pay attention to other people since I am too busy being vain but…

Quinn.

She's different. The moment I saw her, this strange tug in my heart that has been pulling me towards her never disappeared. It is still as strong as ever, if not more. My attraction to her is just...unexplainable. Strange but in a good way…I guess. It still confuses me actually. I can't put a finger on it but I know she's not just a pretty face to me. Because believe me, there are a lot of pretty faces in this school.

I simply ignore the conversation going on around me and let myself get lost in my own little bubble—a place where Quinn and I are walking hand in hand, looking at each other with dazed eyes—while stealing a few glances at the Cheerios table. God. I am a creep.

This table should be called the Gossip corner. That's all we (just them actually) do anyway, especially since the gossip duo known as Kurtcedes are here. I don't know why they are so fond of talking about other people's lives. I, for one, would like to keep my life private which is why I don't really participate in this kind of conversation.

"Did you hear about the power couple?"

Okay. Maybe except when the topic involves a certain blonde Cheerio.

"What about them?" I ask—too eagerly—before I can stop myself. "What?" I huff as all eyes turn to me and give me this annoying knowing look. Am I that obvious?

"Honey, if only you are not so busy living in your own little world, you'd know. It happened in the hallway this morning," Kurt says as if it's old news.

"In front of the whole school I might add," Mercedes supported.

"It was a good show," Tina says, nodding her head, as if reliving the incident in her mind.

"I didn't see it but the guys were talking about it in the lockers," Sam shrugs. At least he knows about it.

"Dude! You should have seen it! Hudson was really pissed. It was really funny seeing him all red and angry," Mike laughed. I wish I could share his excitement but I'm just as lost.

Noah scoffs, "Guys, that's old news. They've been doing that since they became an item. Trust me. I know. I'm Hudson's best guy, remember?"

What is everyone talking about? I'm probably wearing a dumbfounded look on my face right now—my mouth open slightly with my eyebrows meeting halfway as I turn my head from one face to another, depending on who's talking.

Just then I realize nobody has answered my question yet, "Well, I would really appreciate it if somebody would care to enlighten me, please? I can't relate!"

And as much as I hate to involve myself with gossips that have nothing to do with me, I don't like it when I try to involve myself in a conversation only to be left out.

"Barbie broke up with Frankenteen."

Again. I ignore the Barbie comment. My eyes widen in surprise. Hah. Not really. Like what Noah said, they have been playing the on and off and on again game since I can remember. I'm sure my eyes are wide in a more of yay-they-broke-up-again-finally-let's-do-the-happy -dance way.

"Where was I when that happened?" I ask my friends, the wide smile on my face is automatic. I couldn't help it. I'm still a little disappointed for not witnessing it though. It's the first time they did it in public. Damn. What I wouldn't give to see that dumb Hudson get dumped. I would probably laugh my ass off right there and then without a care in the world.

What did Quinn ever see in him anyway?

"Like I said, you're probably lost in your own la la land again. You seem to be doing that a lot lately."

"Am I? I never really noticed," I shrug nonchalantly. I steal another glance on the Head Cheerio and the hazel eyes staring back at me took me off guard, literally taking my breath away. Shit. I think a part of me just died because, wow! Quinn Fabray is looking straight at me!

Feeling a little bolder, I held her gaze even if my heart is wildly beating against my chest. I can feel the heat burning my cheeks when I notice the intensity of her look. There's something in her eyes that's making my insides melt. Jesus. This girl is going to be the death of me someday.

Slowly, the corner of her lips quirk a little and I became one of those lucky ones to be the receiving end of her infamous sexy smirk.

Fuck.

This is all surreal. For the first time in my entire high school life, Quinn Fabray notices me and it isn't just to make fun of me.

...I hope.

=Q-R-Q-R=

It's the last period of the day and I'm still as high as a kite from what happened in the cafeteria. I feel so giddy that I am practically bouncing on my feet as I walk towards my locker. I fumble on the code and start shoving my books inside. I yelp when the metal door suddenly shut by itself. It wasn't hard but I still didn't see it coming—neither is the girl wearing a red and white uniform standing beside me.

"Hello Rachel."

Oh. My. God.

Quinn Fabray is standing two feet away from me! I'm stunned. Speechless. Frozen. Rooted in my spot. I feel my mouth open and close in a very unattractive way and my eyes are unblinking that it burns. This is the closest I ever get to her and I took the chance to really look at her like the creep that I am. Her face is flawless. Her lips look glossy and soft. Her eyebrows are perfectly shaped. Her cheeks rosy. And her eyes...God. She's just...wow.

I notice one of her eyebrows rise and her hands make its way on her hips. And then I realize I am practically drooling at her. Obvious much?

"Ooff!"

My gawking ends when another body slams on to me, causing me to lose my balance and fall forward. I feel an arm around my waist, supporting me. Lavender scent floods my senses and I feel kind of dizzy all of a sudden.

"Hey! Watch it!"

I hear Quinn calling out to that person who 'accidentally' bumped on to me. I look up and my knees turn jell-o when I realize just how close our faces are.

"Are you alright?"

Oh God. Did I enter a freaking Twilight Zone? Did I hit my head or something? Because Quinn Fabray is freaking holding me, her eyes full of concern, and our faces are barely inches apart. I can practically feel her breath on my lips. And wow. I can't breathe. I think I just died and went to heaven. Again. Within the past four hours.

"Y-yes. I'm okay."

I can barely hear my own voice. I'm too distracted getting myself lost in her eyes. And look at that smile! For a moment I feel like it's just the two of us here. Everyone pass by us like a blur and the noises around us are muffled by an invisible barrier. I can hear them but it feels like it's so far away.

I just want to stay like this forever.

"Q!"

And then the moment is gone. Quinn releases me in a haste and I step back a few inches away from her when I see Santana Lopez and Brittany Pierce coming to our direction. Talk about timing. I have to fight the urge to look neutral even if all I wanted to do is pounce on Quinn, wrap my limbs around her like a freaking Koala and never let go.

"Hi Rachel!" Brittany waves at me—she's such an angel—and I silently wave back, not trusting my voice right now since my whole body is still tingling from being in the arms of Quinn Fabray.

"Q, what are you doing with the Hobbit?" Santana asks as soon as she is standing beside Quinn, scowling at me.

I can sense Santana's irritation and annoyance. I don't understand why she hates me so much. But then again, she hates everybody that is not Quinn or Brittany.

And then the Latina's question hit me. What is Quinn doing here talking to me? I look at the blonde Cheerio who is now frowning, gone is the beautiful smile that was just there moments ago. Hmm...

"I'm just talking to her, S," Quinn answers, turning to her friend, "And her name is Rachel," she adds with emphasis on my name.

Yep. I'm pretty sure I just stepped in to some kind of parallel universe because, damn! Quinn Fabray just stood up for me against Santana Lopez. This can't be real. There's just no way.

Santana smirks, her eyes piercing through me as she scrutinizes me from head to toe. I can feel the shiver traveling through my spine in a not so good way. It's quite the opposite of what I feel with Quinn and it's making me uncomfortable. I look at the ground, unable to meet Santana's eyes. I feel so conscious of myself all of a sudden.

Why is she looking at me like that? How did I find myself in this predicament again?

I steal a glance at Santana when she starts to speak again.

"Huh. Whatever, Q," Santana dismisses with a roll of her eyes, "Let's just go to practice."

With that, Santana left hand in hand with Brittany. I've always wondered about those two. I don't have an accurate fully functional gaydar but I can sense there's something about them.

"And here I thought you only have eyes for me."

I turn my head so fast I think I got a whiplash. Quinn is wearing her sexy smirk again and her eyes are twinkling. Damn.

"I-I..."

I'm not really sure what's happening. Is Quinn flirting with me? Is that a flirt line? Shit. What do I say to that? I should have been listening to Noah when he opens his mouth. He's good at this stuff.

Quinn chuckles and I feel my cheeks burning from embarrassment. I still feel like I'm in a freaking Twilight Zone.

"Hmm...From what I've heard, you have a very extensive vocabulary, Rachel. Are you feeling okay?" Quinn asks, stepping closer towards me. I shiver when I feel her fingertips running against my bare arm as she locks her eyes on me.

I gulp visibly, my throat feels dry. I can hear the beating of my heart against my ear. Again, I am overwhelmed with a scent of lavender radiating from her body. I feel light headed..like I'm floating in air.

"Hmm...Strange. You usually talk a lot. Don't you like talking to me?" Quinn wonders as she stepped away from me, an adorable pout on her face. I release the breath that I didn't realize I was holding.

With the space provided between us, my brain begins to function again.

"Oh! I apologize, Quinn. I don't mean to be rude. It's just that the fact that you are talking to me right now has taken me by surprise. It's not like every day that the Head Cheerio approaches a loser like me unless...well, you know. And honestly, I am a bit confuse as to why you are here-not that I mind! In fact, your mere presence is quite...overwhelming. But I mean it in a good way," I trail off with a frown, realizing that I just said too much. As usual.

Quinn stares at me in amusement which surprises me since I am expecting her to be annoyed by now. Most people do. But the grin on her face had only left me perplexed.

"Well, that's the Rachel Berry I know," Quinn chuckles.

Rachel Berry she knows? She knew me? Really? Really?

I shake my head, trying to calm my nerves and then look at her straight in the eyes, "I'm sorry about that. I tend to ramble when I'm nervous."

"So, does that mean I make you nervous?" Quinn asks, almost whispering as she leans closer to me again. My breath hitches when her fingers begin playing with my necklace, her skin accidentally touching mine.

"Who wouldn't be when a gorgeous person such as yourself had graced them with your presence?" I answer without thinking, the tone of my voice matching hers. My cheeks burn as I realize what I just said. But when she smiles at me, it makes all the possible embarrassment worth it. Especially the faint pink hue that is now coloring her cheeks.

Quinn laughs lightly and I think I've never heard anything so mesmerizing before, "I never knew Rachel Berry could be such a sweet talker."

Hearing that from the Quinn Fabray gives me strength and I just feel a bit bolder, "I'm not usually like this. It's what you do to me."

"Yeah?" Quinn leans closer, her lips almost touching my ear as she whispers, "I wonder what else I can do to you?"

And with that, the warmth of her presence disappears as she turns on her heels and walks away but not before giving me her trademark sexy smirk and a wink. I felt my knees weakening. I lean back on the wall of lockers and close my eyes as I try to calm my beating heart. My skin still tingles from her light touches; her husky voice whispering to my ear sending jolts of electricity through my body down to my core.

Because shit. I think Quinn Fabray just flirted with me.

=Q-R-Q-R=