Rain Chapter 1, a glee fanfic

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Rain

A peal of thunder crashed in the background. Rachel stopped singing 'Take a bow', her momentum lost. The auditorium was empty, and getting darker. Like my soul, she mused. Staring out blankly into the inky darkness, she inhaled to sing 'Take a bow' again. Only this time her cell phone alarm broke in. Diving for it, she saw it was time to leave. It was Tuesday. She had promised Coach Grace she would be a Wolverette. Rachel Berry doesn't break promises. So she hurried out of the auditorium, into the driving rain.

As she ran through stinging downpour, she realized it reflected her mood; dark, dreary, wet and stormy. Its rage was powerful yet short. Sliding into the driver's side of her pink mini Cooper™, she rubbed the water out of her eyes. Sighing, she reached over to her duffle in the back seat. It was black with gold piping. Gold lettering spelt her name at the left and right side corners with a gold star besides. In the side of each side was a much larger gold star with a paw print inside of it; the Wolverettes logo. It never ceased to cheer her up.

She drew a pink towel out of the bag, pressing it down on her head to staunch the streams that flowed her matted hair. I become like Quinn and he still chooses her. What is wrong with me? What went wrong yesterday? Hot tears mixed with the cold rain as she dried her face. Looking into the mirror, she gave herself a hard stare, then sighed. I guess I don't need makeup if I am going to be sweating. Laying the wet towel across the bag, it snapped to her attention. Where was practice being held? Cheerios practiced in the gym during the rain. Yet, it's first rain day. It's exciting. They aren't fake to me. We are a team and they showed they liked me yesterday. That was fun. She smiled, still surprised. Glancing at the clock, she frowned. A turn of the key, the car roared to life. Wipers and headlight on.

As she drove the ten miles on the highway to Forest Hills High, thoughts flitted by. One school I'm at the bottom of the social ladder doing what I love. My career grows. Another school, I am in the ruling elite. Yet I am doing something for a guy. Do I want to win so badly, this is wear it leads? Rachel remembered the trophy wall in the library across of Dad Hiram's desk. Twelve trophies, twelve victories. Recitals, dancing, singing, plays in elementary, even a band slam during summer camp when she was 14. She nodded. It's more than that. She joined Glee to keep ahold of him and possibly sabotage us. So yes, the Wolverettes will take Nationals this year. It will be double sweet.

A smile crossed her face. The radio was playing random songs again. First it was All American Reject's 'Gives you Hell' then it was 'Poker Face' by Lady Gaga, then it Phil Collins, then Taylor Swift came on. Annoyed, she stabbed it off.

Get ahold of yourself, Rachel. He made his choice. Yet, the images of the kiss, the emotions around it and his cologne washed over her. "Why won't you admit it?" she groaned as she pulled into Forest Hills High school's Booker Field parking. As she parked, she was reminded of Coach Grace telling her about it as she gave her the parking permit. Only athletes could park there anytime. A perk of being habitually rated high in 5A football.

The clouds broke as she dove out with her duffle. Her clothes were still moist and clingy as she sprinted to the Cheerhouse next to Field house. Finn floated across her mind again. That night in Toronto, the kiss, the dinners. Focus! You can't let them down. As she came through the doors, everyone smiled.

"Hello. Rachel. Ready for another week? We play Carmel High Dragons Friday," Emily Baylor, the tall blond captain of the Wolverettes said in her sing song voice. Her youthful round face was indeed makeup free. Thin pink lips pursed in delight. Blue eyes twinkled.

Rachel paused then flashed her best fake smile. "Yes. I am looking forward to it."

Kaylie her twin and co-captain, walked up beside them wearing her skirt and a peach sport bra. "What's wrong? You two have a fight?"

Rachel looked up at her shocked. Kaylie raised her hand. "Your eyes are puffy and you don't sound nearly as chipper. It's like the joy is sucked out."

Rachel pasted the fake smile. "I can handle it."

"From someone who knows what a fake smile is, you are faking it. You can be real with us. Besides from what I saw on the field, he loves you. It's all over his face. He's just being a typical guy. He can't admit it because you aren't popular there. He doesn't want to take a hit to his popularity."

Rachel smiled, remembering her reminding him about his popularity.

"Now, that's the Rachel we saw. I just don't understand why it matters now unless…" Kaylie paused.

"You aren't telling anyone at McKinley, are you?" Emily finished.

"That shouldn't make a difference. The Cheerios know and he does." Kaylie shook her head. "It doesn't matter who he is with or what he did. He loves you. Make him apologize, give him a little hell about it and then forgive him. He'll be thankful and love on you until he screws up again. What's good for you is he's a keeper."

Rachel eyes grew wide. "A keeper?"

Several girls chuckled as they finished changing. Rachel eyed them with a frown. Emily shot an intense look that reminded her of Quinn's. It softened when she stared at Rachel. "A keeper is a people so hopelessly in love that no matter what they will always come back. He's yours. If you are his, then you two are soul mates."

Kaylie sighed wistfully. "I wish Derek was my soul mate."

Christa, a lean Indian with thick hips and heart shaped face, laughed.

"He's too much player. Did you forget the incident in the atrium last week?"

She shot her a look that could freeze ice. To Rachel, she grinned. "Don't let him go. Ever. No matter what. If you have to, grab a temporary guy." She pointed her finger at Rachel and wagged it. "But never let him go."

Brad was in Angela's looking at her trophies when she walked in. "Door was open," He responded when she flashed a surprised expression.

"I know. Unlike someone else. I have an open door policy. So what brings you here at 4:30 on a Tuesday?"

"Who else?" Brad gestured to the second place trophy with '08-'09 on it.

"Then I am all ears," Angela sat down, dropping the folder she held onto her desk unopened. She wore a black addias track suit with a gold star paw print on the back. Wolverettes coach was emblazoned across the front in gold lettering that sparkled. Gold stripes ran down her right sleeve and right leg. Her odango sported black and gold stars.

"Coach Sylvester decided to allow her Cheerios captain and two lieutenants to join glee club." He frowned. "Quinn is still angry about Rachel. She is there to watch Finn." Angela nodded, thoughtful "Santana is a blank slate but her reputation says volumes about her allegiance. She will do anything that Sue will ask of her. Brittany is the worst."

"The tall blond?" Angela remarked, with a concerned gaze.

"Yes. She fakes being a dumb blond with cute quips and fluking tests. But she's a bored genius. I had her in choir last year. I guess she thought she could get an easy elective. Problem is I saw through her and wouldn't play her game. She maintains an high enough average to stay on the squad."

Angela looked at him, amused. "How did you catch her. Those generally good. If she has Sue believing she's an airhead, she's great."

"She got tired, dropped her guard during our second choral outing. Everyone was stunned. She knew everything perfectly. And she knew how everyone fit, strengths, weakness; everything. So the next day when she reverted to her show self; I called her on it. She refused to budge so we went down to Figgins office. I was kicking her out then. She snapped back in front of him. She is one of those quiet ones who never shows anger and then explodes."

"And?" Angela sat listening, amused.

"She aced the rest of the class. She has nothing to do with me until now. Glee isn't mine, it's Will's. If she wants to snow him she's welcome to. But if she snaps out of it while I'm there I will call her on it. It's all due to peer pressure. She hates being beautiful and brilliant so she makes everything think she's airhead so they will love her. They do, so she uses this to manipulate everyone to get what she wants. It's quite insidious."

"It has upset you, I can see that. What does it have to do with us?" Angela asked, a touch amused but also concerned for her friend. Then it stuck her. "Rachel!"

"Yes," He nodded, a mask of frustration staring back. "I believe this will lead to no end of problems."

Angela rose, walked to trophy case at the opposite end of her office. She paused at them, pensive. "Rachel has been awesome. Beyond anything I expected. She takes everything we throw at her." She turned a small smile on her face.

Brad stared at her, worried. "And her attitude?"

"Like mine when I was a gymnast. Remember, I was 16 in '88. I made the cut. We were in Seoul. We were in the Olympic village. The night before, I sprained my wrist so the alternate took my place. The coach felt so bad that he let me stay. I wanted it so bad I could taste it. I wanted it all too much. And I got it the next year. Yet, we didn't medal in '88. Never that though." She placed her hands on her desk and stared at him empathically. "It's in her eyes. I see it. I know why she is here. Make no mistake, we need her as much as she needs us. Otherwise the same thing will happen."

Brad frowned. "No. That's not it. Glee won't get better. Sue will stop at nothing to tear it apart. If they win at Sectionals it will only motivate Sue more."

Angela shook her head. "Have you ever known me to abandon a Wolverette? Anyone, even if they leave?" She glanced toward the photo plaques that hung next to the trophy case. There were 20. The top one had a new picture updated to contain Rachel sitting in the front of the squad."

Brad blinked unsure. "No, for as long as I have known you."

"Remember when we first met here?" She glanced at the time, saw it was close to 5. A faint smile creased her lips. Brad nodded, a question mark on his face. "It was early that first year, around now I believe. Before Lillian Adler hired you away from us. I was despondent about the state of the Wolverettes. You were annoyed about budget cuts leading to the lack of anything musical. Music in the A/V room was a complete disrespect to it."

Brad perked up and rose. "I remember. Principal Harris agreed. He got me a decent room. He got you new uniforms and build the Cheerhouse on the promise you would take state. You did and went on to take Nationals."

Angela, with a broad smile that lit up the room, gestured to the large trophy surrounded by the smaller ones. It was dated 1992. "I overcame because of you and my support system. Even when a fresh faced Sue Sylvester came in and actually won regionals after hiring my under coach."

Brad's eyes lit up. "That was her fourth year wasn't it. She stared in '90, yet her first winning year was 1994." He relaxed. "Why do you have back to '90?"

"Same reason she has those trophies from '90. A reminder of the past. It can change if you aren't careful. And that you can't let anyone down. I see so much of me in Rachel. I won't let her down. We will be with her even if she leaves. So have some faith. Those girls can't break Glee if you don't let it. And you won't let if you keep her focused."

Brad nodded solemn. "I will. I just want them to succeed. I made a promise. This will be the year to fulfill it." He remembered, standing beside Lillian at her death bed. Her family had called him to come. So he rushed over there. When he arrived, she immediately made him promise to get them to nationals again. Not to let glee sink into oblivion due to Coach Sylvester. Circumstances had prevailed against him. Yet this year seemed to be the year. Glee was back. Will was doing an fair job. At worst they would make it to sectionals.

Angela stared at him, uncertain. "You vanished there for a moment."

"Remembering the promise," He remarked, flatly.

"We both near her. I'll do my part. Trust me. Trust her. She knows what she wants. She knows how to get it. And she will. Those girls won't stop her. Our victory will solidify her belief that she can do anything and win. Remember that." She walked to the doorway. "You can watch practice if you like. I got to get them up to speed for Carmel." She smiled.

"Okay." He said as he followed her out.

Rachel was amazed. Booker Field had AstroTurf®. She placed her hand on the springy synthetic blades, pressing up and down like a child. It was getting to be a weird habit. The football field at McKinley High was real. Emerald Dreams came by every week to tend to it. This is so far out of the normal. What did I get myself into. She glanced around as the steam rose from the field. The storm had dissipated to a bunch cotton ball like clouds leaving behind a soft breeze that quenched the humidity. In the distance, songbirds chirped melodies. The sun sank slowly in the west. Usually I am prepping for tonight's song, doing research, watching show tunes. Now? I am on a wet field of fake grass doing stretches because I had to become a cheerleader to win Finn. I am crazy. He doesn't even truly like me that way.

Kaylie came out and began the warm-up. Laying out her mat, she fell back on it, stretching with the rest of the girls. Sets began and faded. Lying on the mat staring out as the clouds drifted by, she focused on the next song for glee club. Brad had Choir sing 'Friends are friends forever' by Michael W. Smith. That led her back to Finn. He got up and left, just like that. Then gave a lame apology. I thought we had something. She paused, sat up and did those stretches. We do have something. He doesn't want to admit it. An intense look washed across her face as she pictured slapping him. Then it faded. It's so not fair. If he doesn't want to admit it fine. It isn't distracting me from my goal. And I will get them their victory too because I promised. He can't deny that fact. Even when it's done. I will still be Rachel Berry: Champion. Wonder what those trophies look like.

Coach Grace blew a whistle announcing the end of warm up. As everyone rolled up their mat, she did the same with her hurt. However, deep inside she knew it wouldn't be that easy. I do love him. When they stowed the mat, she tried to stow the hurt away. You know how to handle disappointment. You know what to sing. And through the rest of the practice when she could, she hummed 'Smile'. I will not let Quinn destroy Glee or hurt me. Finn will love me back eventually. A wan smile rested on her lips as she walked back to the Cheerhouse.

The rest of the practice was learning the new cheers against Dayton's Carmel High School Warriors. It was interesting to stand in a formation and shout. I now do tumbles and flips while doing the cheers. We do pyramids. We basket catches. We do dance routines to inspire out team. It makes you feel powerful and strong. It's an awesome feeling, Rachel thought as she stripped down.

As steaming water massaged her sore muscles, Finn kept entering her thoughts. I was a fool. He doesn't love me. He thinks I am that crazy, overbearing girl who grabbed him at our first practice. She sighed heavily.

"Rachel?" Betsy, a thick, robust red gold blond asked. "You ok?"

"Fine," she shouted as she turned off the water. Grabbing one of the piled fluffy towels she wrapped it around her, moving swiftly to her locker. Betsy followed along with Emily. "You look distant. Everything ok? You can talk to us we are a team; a family."

"Share. It's a great way to get it off your chest. It will make you feel better," Betsy said in her throaty deep voice.

Rachel looked at them as she pulled on her pink boy shorts. "How do you know if a guy truly loves you?"

Emily clad in her leather skirt and pale-gray washed-effect denim biker jacket with pewter pyramid studs over a solid white blouse covered her mouth with her hand. "The ultimate question. I take it, Finn is having issues with your status there."

So as she dressed, she explained to them what happened with the kiss. They smiled, ahhed and then got annoyed. "He did apologize. I just think he doesn't love me like I love. I don't know if he even loves me at all," she said morose.

Emily looked in to her sad eyes. "Did he sing anything romantic to you?"

"Yes. 'Eternal flame' by the bangles. It's on my YouTube and MySpace pages."

Emily covered her mouth again. "He loves you," Betsy said. "That's an incredibly romantic song. It's the other girl that is causing the problem. You stole him from her and she's holding on."

"Sort of," Rachel said sheepishly. I didn't steal him. He came when I called.

Emily snorted. "Trust me. Even if he came willingly and did it all himself, in her eyes, you stole him. She will hate you for it for a long time. As for Finn, that's his popularity fear talking and you know that. So relax. You want to go out, have fun?" She flashed a naughty grin as she twirled in her outfit.

"I have to go home. Tomorrow?" Rachel requested, cheery again.

"I'm holding you to it." Emily said as she turned and left.

As she drove into the driveway, she noticed the extra car there. Doesn't look like Mark's, she mused as she grabbed her gear and headed to the door. Once inside, Dad Leroy was waiting for her. Mark and Dad Hiram were there as well.

Mark smiled as she dropped the duffle in confused shock. Hiram grinned a big smile as he squeezed him in a big hug. "You are in!"

Rachel stared at him, then looked to Dad Leroy who smiled and nodded. Mark remained reserved but his eyes said he was overjoyed.

"I'm in?" she asked, hesitantly.

"Remember when I said I would call earlier if I had good news?" Mark said affable. "Well, I have great news. Ron happened to be meeting with Christina Aguilera when I showed him your part of the pep assembly. He invited her to watch it with him. They both loved it. So your dad here," He gestured to Dad Hiram, "has been looking over the contract. They did set conditions," he frowned briefly, more amused than annoyed. "You can't tour. You have to finish school. Those are the biggest. There is a total of five."

Rachel sighed, glaring at both of them. Dad Hiram raised his hands but Dad Leroy folded his arms, stern.

"Normally, this creates issues. With your ability and age, the label could easily make you known worldwide in a year. However, you lose school and glee etc. And honestly Christina thought part of your charm was glee. So the conditions were agreed to provided I get one of my own."

Rachel looked at him, pensive. Mark looked at her, amused. He whisked it away. "I asked to be your manager until you are 18. It was granted. I believe you are the next Taylor Swift. Both Michael Jackson & Barbra Streisand started after they were 18. If we do this right, you should be able to eclipse them both. So have we got a deal?" Mark flashed his most charming smile.

Rachel stood there, overwhelmed. This is it! I'm here. I'm on my way. I knew if I kept my talent alive someone would notice. It's my time. I CAN DO ANYTHING! Excitement rolled across her in waves. Her fingers covering her mouth, jumping up and down, she shouted, "Yes! YES! I'm going to hug you now!" she shouted as he dove on him, squeezing him tightly. Then she sprang on her dads squeezing them into hugs, tears of joy streaming from her eyes. Hiram handed the contract to her. She grabbed the pen Mark held out, signing with a flourish. Then she ran to her duffle, found a gold star and stuck it to the document. Mark chuckled as he took from her offered hand. "Legal will love this." Looking to them, he beamed. "America will love her."

Rachel nodded, then went to her phone. As she began dialing, she remembered. Suddenly, all the joy seeped out of her. Tears streamed again. She slumped beside her duffle clutching her phone, her eyes squeezed shut.

Dad Leroy saw her slumped over. "Rachel, what's wrong?" She shook her head. Reaching for the phone, he saw she keyed Finn's number. He handed it back, anger radiating.

Dad Hiram saw his reaction. "What's wrong?" he ask the same time Mark did. "Finn, the boy she was dating," Dad Leroy said annoyed. Rachel looked up at them her eyes puffy red. "I remember he was with that blond bitch who disrupted the awards ceremony twice. Fabray's daughter. Fabray should have been thankful he was still there after she destroyed the cake. $250 sheet cake ruined because of her.

Rachel's smirk stopped the tears. She covered her mouth. Dad Hiram caught a glimpse out of his eye. He shook his head. "I met him. Sweet boy. However, he's 16 and I remember that too." He said that to Leroy who frowned.

Looking back to Rachel, Dad Hiram extended his hand. She rose with his help. "I'm so sorry, dads. I am sorry, Mark. It hurts."

"You want to talk about it," Mark asked still holding the contract and his briefcase. The dads looked at him in shock, which dissipated when she nodded.

So she explained about him and what happened. Left out was the fact that he was laying on her when they kissed. "I really like him. I'm not stealing him from Quinn. She always talks down to him. She yells at him. I treated him nice. I believed he would come on his own," she smiled at the memories.

She looked at Mark who was smiling as well. "You met him. Is he a bad person?" Mark grew pensive and serious. He looked at the dads. "No. He's actually kind and sort of dotes on you. I think he isn't quite used to you talking to him constantly. From a guy's perspective, He likes you too. But as I said before, it's popularity. That's why he's with his cliché of a girlfriend. Wouldn't you agree, dads?"

"Yes, absolutely. I had the same issues when I was in high school," Hiram remarked.

Dad Leroy had calmed down. "Yes. Popularity at high school seems important. Its meaningless in life because you have to start all over again. Remember that Rachel. You know what we said. I am wondering if this bit with the cheerleading is altering that." She shook her head, hair flowing in the breeze.

Mark caught her still glistening eyes. "Do you love him?"

"I don't know. I think I do."

"Rachel!" Hiram shouted, knowing the look and recognizing her tone.

"Dad!" she remarked, caught.

"You are such a bad liar. It's ok. This isn't an interrogation or an indictment. He will come to you if he feels the same. Be patient." She nodded.

Easy for you to say. You don't have the 'blond bitch' in your class.

Leroy locked the doors after Mark left. Rachel was upstairs doing her nightly video. He could hear her voice resonate with every note of 'Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again' from Phantom of the Opera. So glad I loved Broadway and West End. I'm glad you do to. It's magical to hear you sing show tunes. Walking back into the library, he glanced over at Hiram standing beside the safe.

"You think it's time to build the studio?" He asked wistfully. "We have enough sound materials in the shed now."

Hiram laughed. "It's the expense that stopped me. But now…" he paused as he began turning the dial on the safe. After a couple dozen rotations, he grasped the handle and pulled while turning.

Leroy shook his head, a wry smile as he watched. It was still awe inspiring. Today is a banner day. He coughed as Hiram blew dust of the legal pad sized black brick. It had a combo lock with a hermetic seal. "You think she's ready?" Hiram asked, a mixture of concerned wonder on his face. "She is a Berry after all." He looked at the photo of his father and him as a teen. His father held an ancient book with gloved hands. Another far older black and white showed the same thing. Only his father was a teen. And then there was the one of the grandfather as teen. The pictures continued older and older until they stopped at the west wall with a Daguerreotype of a man and a boy in early 19th century dress. Each held the same book. The brick itself was scuffed and old. The dial was worn almost smooth.

Leroy looked from his absent stare at their Baldwin G Grand piano to Hiram. "After today, yes. She's still self-absorbed, wants everything too much and blunt. Yet, she's far more driven than we were, knows who she is, and is focused on what she wants out of life. And she found her soul mate too." His gaze shifted to the brick as the song faded out. He looked to Hiram whose eyes were moist. He had been staring at the pics again. "I know. It won't look quite right. You remember Jasmine was always amused by how well you protected the codex."

Hiram smiled sadly, remembering. "Hannah was looking forward to the transfer when it came." He paused, rubbing his eyes. "Remember when that picture was taken?"

Leroy nodded. "I almost ended up in in it. Never saw your father madder at anything than that day. Don't ever doubt the promise we made at the funeral. Don't doubt the plan either. We succeeded. They would both be proud. Yes, there were compromises. We both knew this. Even with your worry and my 'Harvey Milk' fear we succeeded. Mark came through. Our daughter is a recording artist. She will make enough to be on Broadway. And in 20 years, there won't be just 12 trophies around that safe. There will be dozens. Grammies, Tonys, even an Oscar. It was worth it. All of it."

"Jonah hates the plan. Always has. It took Rabbi Greenburg to convince him. And he will take the picture on Yom Kippur," Hiram reminded him as he took one final look at the brick before putting it back into the safe unopened.

"The codex will continue its journey from Caleb Berry across the millenniums to now." Leroy smiled. "If they only knew the Codex Sinaiticus wasn't the oldest bound book."

Hiram glared at him. "This is one of five copies still in existence. It's the only whole copy because in was in Petra for its first five centuries. A craftsman made its first safe of Damascus steel. Its first pouch of waxed papyrus. Its beyond priceless, like Rachel. You know what Jonas said."

Leroy sighed heavily. He glanced at the bookshelf of legal tomes across the walls. "Yes, I do. And we have a beautiful, awesome, amazingly talented daughter who shares both our traits. Each Berry read the story of Caleb wrote after Jerusalem fell on their first Yom Kippur of possession. Each Berry is recorded as it transfers. There is an unbroken line leading all the way back to him. Where is the others?"

Hiram, withdrew a letter that had been resting on the brick. He opened it. It was new looking and modern. "Saul wrote me. One is in the State Archives in Jerusalem. The Vatican has one, He has his and Haggai has his."

"You and your codex. WE are a pair, aren't we?" Leroy remarked with a chuckle. "I am going to bed. What are we doing about Finn? I think he will be an issue shortly."

Hiram sighed as he shut the safe door with a loud clunk. "He's a teenage boy, yes he will. However, I say the look on his face everything time he is here with her. He cares about her. I am willing to give him a pass and only him. What do you say about having him over for breakfast tomorrow?"

"Seriously?" Leroy looked mock shocked. "It will push her it either resolve it or break it. And we can get him to agree to ground rules since he has been dating her. Our daughter's a recording artist and a cheerleader. Who would have thought it?"

"Hannah," Hiram said softly. "Good night."

"Good night."

Quinn was a mess. She knelt beside the toilet exhausted. What is wrong with me? Mom is going to think I'm bulimic or worse if this keeps up. Wiping her mouth with a Kleenex®, she struggled to her feet. Not that I want more pain but where are the cramps that are usually here, she brooded. A silent scream echoed across her mind. Now I want peanut butter and bacon? She balled a fist and struck the towel stack on top the toilet.

Staggering out to her bed, she crawled onto her floral yellow comforter. Lying there, she stared at the ceiling. I am hungry constantly when I am not nauseous. It can't be that! Please anything but that. I need my period. Shifting her gaze to the picture of her and Finn at last year's chastity ball, she smiled. At least they quit eating out. She yells at him now. I knew that if I joined I could keep him. Now if I could figure out how to push her away from him further while breaking Glee as well. She frowned a bit. It's sad. I actually enjoy Glee club.

Grabbing the remote off the nightstand, she turned on the TV. WOHN News at 11 announced itself to her disappointment. Relaxing against her pillows, she adjusted her lavender silk cami and tap pants which bunched when she rolled over.

"Hello, Lima. I'm John Harden sitting on for Rod Remington who is on vacation," he grinned. "And I'm Andrea Carmichael. Our top story tonight, Theodore Beckerstead recaptured in Elida after fleeing Boston on embezzlement charges," She read with a fake smile.

"And later," He began, "We talk to Warden Jesse Williams of Allen Correctional Institution on exit of award winning chef Erastus White and complaints that the prisoners are eating high school cafeteria food."

"And at 11:35," Andrea starts with a genuine grin, "The next in our Teen Ohio High series. We meet with Shelby Concordan, Facility advisor for Carmel High School's Show Choir, Vocal Adrenalin. We also meet with Carmen Ferrara who quit yesterday after being hospitalized with Crohn's disease."

"I hear she blames Dakota Stanley, their former Broadway choreographer, and is planning to sue," he said with a chuckle.

Former Broadway choreographer? I wonder who he is, she thought as a wicked smile lightened her face.

"But first your weather on the eights," John said throwing it to the WOHN weather man.

Quinn sat up, watching intently. "This will be perfect."

The next morning, Rachel rose with joy. As she worked on the elliptical, she saw herself receiving the Grammy for best new artist. "Defying Gravity" echoed off the walls as she ran. The MySpace and YouTube people were happy with last night's video. Even Justin Ezarik said it was awesome. Some suggested she start recording herself. They were excited when she said she was. And the crazy 4chan people were silent. "No matter. I am Rachel Berry. I am a success."

"That you are, in more ways than you'll know," Hiram said from the doorway.

"Dad! Knock first!" she groaned, stepping off.

"I did. You couldn't hear it over the music. I can always gauge the neighborhood mood by the amount of insulation that appears on the driveway. It was a pallet of sound proofing tiles this morning." His laughter coursed like a waterfall.

"What color?" Rachel asked with a smile. Hiram blinked, staring at her briefly before laughing again. "Looks like you will be getting a recording studio sooner than later. I have a surprise for you when you come down. I want you to listen," He touched his ears, "and be open. Don't dismiss this. OK?"

"Noted. I promise," she said with some wonder.

"Hurry, he will be having breakfast with us," he turned from the door with a pleased expression.

As she hurriedly laid out her outfit for the day, a purple and white ensemble, she glanced at the blender in the bathroom with the remains of the shake. My two dads love me so much, she mused as she finished it off. I wonder who it is? She smiled as she prepped before diving into the shower.

Finn stood in the doorway, distressed. Punching the doorbell again, he focused on the wooden door's single opening. Yet, his mind was running away. I broke that promise I made and now I can't see her anymore. Or Rachel's hurt and I have to take the note because they are busy with her. Why did I let myself do this. Why didn't I break it off with Quinn? Or better why did I let myself fall in love with Rachel and not tell her.

"Mr. Hudson, please come in," the tall chocolate pigmented African-American said when he answered the blinked, confused for a moment. Rachel's other dad; the one who was at the awards ceremony.

"Mr. Berry, why am I here?" He asked, immediately. "You told my mom, it was school related and urgently important." The distress on his face deepened as the smell of wheat toast and tofu wafted out. A breeze swirled around him intensifying the smell. His stomach grumbled. A long gaze at the unchanged foyer, except a Wolverettes duffle. A tiny smile formed.

"Because you have a relationship with my daughter," Leroy said, mildly annoyed. Hiram walked up behind him. "And you apparently broke a promise to me." Looking to Leroy, he said, "Our part of breakfast is ready. It's in the warmer."

Finches chirped nearby as Finn stood there nervous and fidgety . "Come in before you create more questions," Leroy said, then walked away to the kitchen. Hiram cast a cold stare. "We have a problem. It's easily remedied. WE can cut you off or bring you in. I am stepping out on a limb for you because I believe in you. However, considering the events of last night and now, You need to be here. It is that important." Hiram stared straight into his eyes as he shut the door. "Unless you don't love her at all."

Finn's eyes grew wide. "I'm sorry, Mr. Berry. I don't understand." Shock covered his face as he stared into Hiram's serious face. In the background, the shower stopped.

"I understand teenage love. You need to understand that my daughter is a special person. I WONT have you lead her on and then crush her heart. She has a brilliant future ahead, and we will do most anything to insure that happens. So I ask you again, do you love her? Tell me you don't and you can leave. We'll never bother you again. Of course you won't be allowed near her outside school but that's expected." Hiram glanced up at the stairwell, listening. A flicker of concern flashed across his face.

Finn stammered. His face went white then flushed. I have to admit it? To him. But what if I mess up. Now what. It was bad enough to get this from Mr. Fabray but now. Be honest. Honesty won't kill you, even if they will. A deep sigh exited Finn's lips. "I…do. I care about her deeply. I don't know quite how it happened," He said counting the glass tiles in the ornate mosaic floor.

"Explain it in the dining room. You are invited to breakfast," He said relieved, directing him to the dining room. As they passed the library, Finn noticed the photos and the trophies. A smile crossed his lips. She really is talented. Why don't I believe her? She is as good as Quinn.

As he entered the dining room, he noticed Mark, Rachel's agent was there already. A tall guy with tussled blond hair the color of straw, he had a Macbook and a netbook out. And he had papers around him. Soft typing rose as Finn seated himself. I have to relax. Calm floated over him as he listened to the sounds of breakfast and soft walking above.

Mark looked up, focused, severe. "Finn, correct?" He extended his hand.

"Yes, Mr. Connors," he said politely, unsure if that was the right name as he shook his hand.

Leroy entered with a plate of bacon. He eyed Finn. "You eat bacon?"

"Yes, Mr. Berry," Finn answered politely. Leroy pushed a few strips on the golden china plate before him. "What else would you like? Eggs, waffles, toast?"

Finn stared briefly. "Waffles and eggs over easy."

Leroy's gruff demeanor vanished with a smile. "Relax, this isn't a inquisition. Mark will explain." He flexed his hand.

Mark pushed over a thick stack of bulldog clipped papers covered in legalese. "I signed Rachel to a two album contract yesterday night," he said satisfied. "With her voice and dancing skill, she has the potential to eclipse Taylor Swift and Miley Cyrus. She has a once in a generation voice. It guarantees she will sell. America will love her. There is just one problem," his face grew serious.

Finn's broad smile vanished. Another problem? Why? "What problem, Mr. Connors?"

Mark looked straight at him. "You."

Finn winced. "Me?" stammered out.

"Yes. I know you two are dating. I understand teenage love as well. Honestly, I don't care. It's expected and it makes great songs. I see the look of love between you two. I see how you treated that other girl too. That's not your problem." He chuckled, swiping an errant blond lock away.

Finn blushed to the base of his shoulders. In the background, he heard Hiram explaining. Mark waved his hand at the stack of papers. "That pep assembly was used as her demo. You were lead singer with her. This means if the label uses it, I need your authorization. In exchange, you get royalties. That's what the contract before you says. It's a standard transfer of rights for royalties for anything you sing with her. This will be her first two songs. So I expect heavy rotation. Even Christina liked her version of 'Dirrty'.

Finn's mouth fell open, half eaten bacon tumbling from his hand to the plate. "Christina Aguilera?" Embarrassed, he quickly shut it.

"The same," Mark smiled. "Now, for the bad news. I believe in her and pride myself on my honesty and upfrontness even on the nasty side of the business. You won't be making much. For a 99c download you will see three cents. If you get on to every song on her first album, you would see a dime per album. She would see more but not much. If you don't sign the contract, she will see nothing because the label won't be able to use it. I will have to take her to record an album away from you and that glee club. Only her voice would be heard. If you do sign it, I can get waivers from everyone else. All your voices will be heard. If someone else likes what they heard they can make it as well."

Finn stared at the waffles while eating. Done chewing, he looked up, his lips pursed. "What rights?"

"Basically, the right to record, sell, distribute, produce and transmit the songs you sing with her outside of the school. You will make money for the duration of your life even when the rights revert back to you when her contract is finished. Its low end boilerplate," He said patiently. "Example, an $10 album nets you a quarter. Imagine ten thousand selling or 100,000. For you that $2500 or $25,000. However, I am not signing you as an artist. There is no deal with you independently."

Finn frowned. He noticed someone out of the corner of his eye being restrained. He heard a sigh he knew. He frowned deeper.

"Why?" Finn asked curious.

Mark smiled sly. "Because, while they didn't have an issue with you on the song they aren't ready to invest in you yet. You have potential. I have no problems with you or managing you as well. Its just that I had to push for her. Hell, Randy Jackson just send me an email saying that for a high school show it was better than some Idol performances. Simon agrees. That's high praise. Yet it's a numbers game. You understand?"

Finn nodded. "I sign. You use 'Push it' to launch her. We both get money. I don't and she's independent."

Mark nodded. "Plus, it's likely you won't ever get signed."

"Where do I sign?" Finn asked taking the pen in his hand. Images of his mother being taken care of flickered by. The stack of blueberry waffles filled his nostrils as Mark pointed out the correct pages. Leroy started distributing them to the plates.

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed motion and looked up. Rachel stood silently in her Wolverettes uniform, arms folded under her bust. Her raven locks were in a ponytail. Anger radiated from her face. His gaze changed to pleading. She looked away, sadness sweeping the anger away. She pulled out a chair and slumped into it, looking away. I really screwed up. Why are girls so hard to understand?

Opening the contract, he grabbed the pen signing the pages Mark pointed out. As he did, he watched Rachel eat silently eggs and toast with strawberry jam. She did it just like when they were at the picnic. I miss watching her eat. He sighed, taking a stack of pancakes when he laid the pen down and returned the contract.

"I'm sorry I ran out," he said softly, contrite.

She shot him a sad look, her mouth full. Hurt filled her eyes as she drank her orange juice. Placing her hand over her heart, she stared. "It hurts."

Finn gulped. Why can't this be easy? Why did I run?

Rachel held his gaze blocking out everyone silently eating. "Why?"

Finn looked to Mark who watched intently, then to his plate of waffles, still steaming. Wish I could take it all back. "I got overwhelmed. I never intended to leave." Leroy shot a dark, ominous look. It faded when they both saw the tears streaming down her cheeks. She wiped them away, struggling to eat her breakfast. "I never wanted you too." A small smile flickered as she stole away from his pitiful gaze.

"Rachel," Mark said sharply, breaking the spell.

She looked to him, puffy eyed and downcast. "I have something that should cheer you up."

The sadness didn't quite vanish yet curiousness warmed her face. "What?"

"I forgot to give you your advance. It's small because I believe in you and that's all they would cut." He pushed over the check. She unfolded it quickly and the covered her mouth in joy.

"If I wasn't sitting I'd hug you." Rachel announced rejoicing.

"Hug Finn instead. He's the reason you are getting it today." Mark remarked after a sip of coffee.

Rachel frowned. She looked at Finn and said, "I forgive you." There was a genuine sweetness in her tone yet her gaze was sorrowful. I wounded her. I didn't want to admit it because it would cost too much. So I tried to kick her to the curb in a kind way. Now I am even deeper. Why couldn't Quinn have been nicer. Now of this would have happened if she hadn't been bitchy all the time.

Mark waited patiently. As he noticed them just staring at each other silently, he broke in. "Rachel, now that he's signed as well I can tell you the final thing now." He glanced back and forth between them, an aire of seriousness. Finn finished his waffles, listening.

Rachel stopped eating. Her whole attention focused on Mark. "What news? The contract spelled out everything except.."

"Who your manager is. Usually it's a personal choice. However, last night I suggested an idea. Ron likes it, I like and I want to know if you do?"

Rachel grew pensive until Finn broke the silence holding a forkful of waffle. "You are."

She beamed, delighted. "That's a wonderful idea."

"Good. It's been awhile since I had this gig. And it frees me from everything new. Considering the unique aspect of your contract, I get to spend time with my folks in Columbus."

Rachel nodded, delighted. "So I'll see you every week?"

"Almost every day. That's what the last point is about. CherryTree and Interscope have no issues getting the licenses for your videos. You can continue them. Its good advertising and since it's mostly show tunes owned by UMG, I can bend a few rules. However, the label needs material for your album. That will come from your glee rehearsals."

Forks clattered on plates as everyone looked up shocked except Rachel. She grinned, confident and proud. "I always do my best."

Finn stammered. "You're recording all the rehearsals?"

"No. Only the ones in the auditorium. I need to be there to watch. The sound people and video people will need to be there to ensure quality. That can't happen in the choir room." He pushes a printed list to both of them. Finn's gets some butter on his. "That's the list on everyone signed to a UMG label. They are the parent company of Interscope-Geffen. At school, any song by any of those artists no problems covering. I'll let legal do the hard part. Anyone else shoot me an email before, Rachel. I am talking to your Principal Figgins and Brad Ellis the music director today, so it shouldn't be an issue. I hope to get a list of the songs you plan on doing."

Finn looked confused. Rachel glanced at him then wiped away a smirk that formed. "Mr. Schuester doesn't know. It's always spontaneous. He won't listen to me."

Mark frowned. "Understood. I will still ask. Finally, shoot me an email on your nightly videos so I can track them. I'll get the ball rolling with YouTube on the others. As for glee and your other activities we can work around it. There is a recording studio available in Columbus if we need it."

To Finn, he smiled. "The more tracjs you are on, the more money you make too. Who knows? I might be talking to you in a few years."

Out the briefcase came standard release forms. Hiram reached over and grabbed them. "I'll take care of it."

Rachel looked over at him confused. Hiram nodded. "It will be easier if I go talk to your principal with Mark. This way he can get them to sign it without questions." She shrugged.

Mark gestured to her uniform covered by a sparkle gold track top emblazoned with a black 'Wolverettes'. "How long?"

A mixture of amusement and vengeful delight twinkled in her eyes as hid a smile. "Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday five to nine. Friday is game day. I'll get you a schedule." As she rose, she saw the clock. Horror roared across her. "I have to go. There's a pep assembly first period so I have to be there."

She walked around the table giving hugs to her dads. When she got to Mark, she stood staring at him. He looked at her, shook his head and rose. She reached over, hugged him tightly. "Thank you so much for believing in me," she whispered

Mark grinned. "I believed in Stefani Germanotta too. Look at her now," he whispered back.

When she approached Finn, she halted and stared. "I have to go," she said quietly.

"I'll go with you. We need to talk," Finn blurted out.

Wide eyes stared at him. "You'd miss Mr. Sinacori's quarter test?"

"Coach Tanaka will take care of it. I won't fail." He said confidently.

She gulped. "Noted. I'll be down in 5." And she vanished out and up the stairs, loud footfall assuring her exit.

Leroy rose. When he did, Finn did as well. "Mr. Hudson, a word." A sober, grave stare met him as Leroy rest both palms on the table. Mark turned and left with his coffee mug. "It is obvious that you care for my daughter deeply. I, myself, remember being caught in embarrassing situations. Fortunately I never had to admit something like that in from of parents."

Hiram joined him and they went to the foyer. Hiram looked him up and down. Leroy and Finn were the same size. "Your future is determined by who you honor. It hinges on a single conversation. You honor us, because whatever turmoil I believe you were honest with her. I see dishonor, hatred and disparity everyday. On my desk is a plaque. It says simply, 'You are no one until someone loves or hates you.' Beneath it says 'You are one person away from the next season of your life.'" He paused, looked to Leroy who nodded in agreement.

"If you hadn't made the choices you have, you certainly wouldn't be here. Remember that." Hiram extended his hand. Finn takes it with a peaceful smile. Hiram pulls him in for a hug. Leroy grins, amused at Finn's discomfort. "We are messianic Jews. Hiram and Rachel are. I'm a Christian. That means while we believe Yeshua is messiah, we follow both Christian and Jewish customs. At 6 pm Friday the 18th is Rosh Hashanah. Since Rachel is a cheerleader now," he seems amused, "We are going to the game to begin and then returning when we are done. You are invited when you are finished. If you have Jewish members of your team they are invited as well if they are there. All I ask is that blond cheerleader you spend time with, does not come."

Rachel walked down the stairs slowly, looking at them both with a mixture of shock and concern. Yet there was delight in her eyes.

"The main part of the festival is the meal of which we will take out there. There will be a presentation then as well. The actual day is a day of rest and celebration but we would like that to be private."

Finn looked befuddled. "I am honored." Hiram looks to Mark who has everything packed away as is ready to go himself. "You are welcome too,"

"Thanks. I'll be there"

"Dads, I must go." Rachel shouted, frowning.

They both grinned. "Go, see you tonight."

"Thank you, Mr. Berry. Mr. Berry. Mr. Connors. I will be there."

Rachel looked back as she headed out the door. "You better."

Finn followed after her a flicker of consternation in his eyes. It faded as he approached her pink Mini. Why is it when Quinn yells at me I get annoyed but when Rachel does it gives me hell?

Rachel looked over at him as he sat in the passenger's seat. "Why are missing class really?" She asked, point blank.

Finn looked at her a touch embarrassed. "We need to talk alone. This is the only way without interruption. But first, what is Rosh Hashanah?"

Rachel smiled. "It's the Jewish new year. A high Holy day when God, sitting upon a throne, takes out the books containing the deeds of all humanity. They are opened for review, and each person passes in front of Him for evaluation of his or her deeds."

Finn looks stunned. "Whoa."

Rachel glanced at him sort of annoyed. "It's not bad. Ask Noah, he's Jewish."

"Puck is Jewish?"

"Yes. You didn't know? He goes to the same synagogue as I do."

Finn stared at her silently. Finally, he grew serious. "Why did you become a cheerleader, Rachel? It's awesome and all to see you like this but…" He paused, words caught in his throat. I want to tell that I screwed up, that I want a do over. Yet you are acting so much like Quinn, I don't know. I don't want you to be her. "I want you to be you."

Rachel stared at him briefly before turning her eyes back to the road. That annoyance flashed in her eyes he didn't miss. "I know that everyone but Brad who knows there thinks I did it for you. That I did it because I want to be Quinn. That's not true."

Finn looked hard at her. There was no happy, smiley face. No joy. "I never suggested you did."

Rachel looked at him again, disappointed. "I would never lie to you."

"Then why?"

"I want to win. And I know Quinn, Santana and Brittany joined to destroy Glee. Coach Sylvester hates glee club because it draws money away from her." Finn frowned. Quinn doesn't want to destroy glee, she told me she enjoys it. Then a light switched on. He looked at her, aghast. "You believe you can take Cheerleading nationals from the Cheerios?"

Rachel turned into the school driveway, heading toward the Booker Field parking lot. "No. I believe the Forest Hills Wolverettes can. It's amazing what faith and skill can do. Every piece of hate Coach Sylvester spews, Coach grace counters with strength, trust and hard work. She drives us. Yet she respects us as well."

Finn went silent. As she pulled into her parking spot, he realized it was 'her' spot. The sign said, 'Reserved for Rachel Berry, Wolverette Cheer squad' The shock covered his face. She smiled, proud of the space. "They like me here. It's not like there. I and the rest of the Wolverettes rule this it's not home," She said as she got out. "You want me to call you a cab?"

"Not now. I want to see your pep rally." He said with a curious smile. As He held her gaze, he saw all the anger vanish. The delightful, fun Rachel he knew was back.

"Noted," she beamed. Grabbing his hand, she ran towards the door. Mel, the security guard was standing at the entrance. "Morning, Rachel. Who's your friend?" He said in a peaceful, non-threating voice.

"Finn Hudson. He's here to watch the pep rally," she said with a giggle. He nodded, waved them through the metal detector without having to show her ID badge.

"You have to wear ID?" He asked surprised.

"Principal Domo insisted on it. His brother worked in Littleton at the time of Columbine.

Finn still looked befuddled. "I'll explain later. WE have to get to Mr. Grace. He is home room for me." She shouted as she kept dragging him. He kept pace with her, amused. As they down the halls, he kept looking at them. This is so unlike McKinley. There is glass everywhere. You can see into every classroom. And the lockers are huge singles. Puck could shove someone into one. Why are you looking at me like that? Oh. And everyone keeps shouting 'Hey Rachel.' Brown half walls, glass windows and grey lockers.

Rachel stopped running when she noticed Finn had. He stared at everything. "You have been in another school before. Remember? Caramel looks like this. McKinley is uglier."

"Well…" He paused, wearing a befuddled smile. As they stood, people continued to greet her and wish her 'good morning'. "You are right."

I don't believe this. She is like Quinn but not. It's strange to see.

Rachel walked the last fifty feet into Mr. Grace's English literature 2 class and stopped. He looked up at her and smiled. "Miss Berry, I look forward to your performance today. My wife said you were working hard with the team on this number to get them their shot."

"I am. Everyone will love this. And we will beat our arch-rivals the Warriors."

Mr. Grace laughed. "I would hope. Considering the 3A championship trades off between us and them. Now go. I know you have a lot of set up to do."

He shook his head amused. What Finn didn't notice was that people knew who he was and it answered their one question; who was Rachel's boyfriend?

Rachel was excited. The Wolverine Roar, the FHHS band was playing 'Hail to the Victors' as everyone entered. Finn had sat by Mr. Grace so no one would wonder why he didn't have a badge. I'm wearing mine of course, she chuckled. As she and the rest of the Wolverettes exploded onto the gymnasium floor, she realized how different it was as well. The parquet basketball court. "It's a different look; it's really sharp," Coach Grace had said. "We got it last year after the bond issue passed." "Why? McKinley with all its sports and other clubs doesn't have this?" The differences still astonish me. And worry me. I want to be here. I want glee club here. I want Finn here. But none of this can happen, she thought as they went through a few short spirit chants. Everyone rose, screamed and seated themselves.

As Principal Domo, a short elderly Japanese man originally from Kyoto, introduced himself and the announced the Wolverines would be playing the Warriors Friday, she noticed Finn's stunned expression at Emily and Kaylie. Typical. At least you won't hear Principal Domo suggesting people using the restroom on the lawn or complaining about other crazy things

She walked up to center and made the motion to start a short cheer. Slipping the microphone in front of her lips, Rachel began the chant.

"We are the spirit sensation. We've got determination.

We don't mess around, we just do what, get down.

We don't mess around, we just get down, say what uh huh!

We made it to the top. We're solid as a rock. We made it to the top because we're hot, we're hot, we're Hot!" As the L stands and other stunts finished, she connected with Finn. Emily switched channels, "You brought him?" her tone was pure amusement. Yet her eyes were wide.

"He wanted to come. Insisted we talk. He was at my door. What was I to do, wait. Things have been bad."

Light tinkling laughter erupted at her. "You go. And the fact that Mr. Grace is watching him. Major cool points, Rachel Berry," Kaylie had added.

Coach Grace came out with Coach Anders to speak for a moment. Anders introduced the team captain, who simply smiled. He spoke more inspirational words, talking about their ranking and the dance that would happen if they when 3A again. Then Coach Grace took the mike.

"You are wondering about why I came up. We have special surprise for you. Our newest cheerleader, Rachel Berry, has worked hard to choreograph this cheer to get everyone fired up." She looked to her captains giving them the signal. Emily and Kaylie beckoned her to start. They began to dance, sporting super large fake thermometers inscribed with FHHS Spirit fire.

"I've got a bad case of turning it up

It's getting cold in here so fire it up

I've got a bad case of turning it up

It's getting cold in here so somebody fire it up

Come on and fire it up"

The dance was filled with hip shakes, spins and flips. Rachel, Emily and Kaylie marched around them singing a line. She kept hiding a grimace as they failed to hit notes.

"I'm in love with the feeling

Of pressure to the ceiling

We come with intention

To face my opposition

Get raw when it's time

To lay it on the line

To the walls where we're taking it."

A pyramid began to be built behind them as they continued to sing, and the music continued to be played via the gym PA.

"Let your light shine, like

Let your light shine, like

Let your light shine"

The pyramid came down, everyone did a sassy walk around another. The thermo sticks came out again, the red in them rising until they reached the top.

"Take it higher, take it higher

Till the roof is on fire

Take it higher, take it higher

Let's burn it up"

Fake flames appeared on the thermometers as they continued their dancing. Each raised theirs before them, and shook it like a 'shake weight®'. After about 30 seconds they tossed them to the ground as Rachel hit the next line.

"We throw down

When it's time for the action

Make it happen, and the sound

That you're feeling like lead

Might just happen

When you're torn

You might not

Get a warning or a sign

To the walls where we're taking it

Let your light shine, like

Let your light shine."

With a final 'Herkie' jump, they were done. Principal Domo dismissed everyone to second period with the usual excused absence for the Wolverettes who got to miss that period for clean-up of the gymnasium. One of the many perks of being a Wolverette. It's getting addicting to go here. So when Finn ran over, scooped her up into his arms and hugged her, she melted into rapture.

"So Finn, what did you think?" Mr. Grace asked right after the principal dismissed them.

"It was good." His face was bright, excited and shining. "It's just like when Rachel got her contract." Catching her standing there, breathing heavy and sweaty, it got the best of him. He ran over, scooped her up into a hug. "You were awesome."

Her face lit up and for the moment as everyone left, it had all washed away. No Mailman, no stress. As he sat her down, the gym was empty save the other cheerleaders who applauded and whistled. "I need to get you to class," she said concerned.

Finn smiled, leaning his forehead on hers like he did with Quinn when she nailed a big cheer. "You are fine. You smell great. I wish could just take you back like this. You were amazing."

"How about you coming here. We could get everyone here. Kurt, Artie, Tina even Mercedes. Coach Grace says she could swing it."

What? Why? Oh, Rachel! Looking at his watch, he said quickly, "If you want to shower and change you need to go now. Otherwise you will be late. As much as I would like to see you explain this to Mr. Schuester, I don't want you to be late."

"Noted. I'll see you by the car. The snack bar in the cafeteria is open if you want something."

I want to avoid getting you angry again by telling you that scenario won't happen. That's what I want. Other than being mauled by Quinn for choosing you. Man, I wish it would rain on me.

Quinn sighed. Why couldn't you just be content with what you had? I was. She stared at the row of lockers again. Rachel still wasn't there and it was past her usual time. Finn said something crypt like, "I haven't seen her in this school since I got here." And why was he absent? Mr. Sinacori had to delay the test. Him and his stupid 'everyone must be here' pop tests.

Maintaining her defiant stance in the middle of the hall, she continued to zero in on Rachel's locker. She usually visited her locker before running to last lunch. Contempt mixed with indignation shone on her face. So everyone flowed around her. Each Coach Sylvester smiled as she walked by. She rarely does that.

"What's with the pose, Q?" Santana asked from behind.

I really hate it when you call me that. "Waiting for Rachel. I have a quick way to kill Glee club," she said as she turned around, her hands only briefly leaving her hips.

"Spill." Santana said surprised and delighted.

"Dakota Stanley," Quinn remarked with perverse joy.

"Who?"

"He's the choreographer that Shelby Concordan, the facility adviser for Vocal Adrenaline hired to whip them into shape for their Fall Invitational. This is his last couple of weeks there. It was all on last night's news." Her dismissive tone brought a smile to Santana. "If we can convince Rachel that the club needs him rather than Mr. Schuester's lame choreography, then we will win."

Santana furrowed her brow in thought, concerned. "How do we do that? She's not Brittany."

Quinn masked a chuckle. No. She's not. Brittany is far smarter than she lets on about. She fakes it. You have to know that. Mr. Sinacori, Mr. Daniels and the others who won't bow to Coach's demand to pass the Cheerios regardless require a B average. Beside the refractive index of a crystal is 2. Crystals generate rainbows so…Aggh, I am doing it now. She's a freaking manipulative genius.

Quinn arched an eyebrow at Santana. "Like it or not, Rachel's one of us now. Let's use that." Santana spat on the floor, disgusted. A freshman trying to avoid them, slipped on it, throwing his books everywhere. He hit like a sack of potatoes. They pointed and laughed at him, unawarethat Rachel slipped unaware to her locker.

"Please it didn't hurt that bad. Get the eff up." Santana retorted, chuckling while wagging her finger.

That vanished as a locker slam echoed. Pivoting around together, they saw Rachel heading away from them. She's wearing an ugly, poofy shouldered plum blouse under that purple and grey sweater vest? And with that skirt? Why? Quinn groaned inwardly. A sharp sigh escaped before she could cover it. Both stepped into her path, completely blocking the way. "Can we talk?" Quinn asked in a deceitfully chipper voice.

Fire lit Rachel's eyes as she steeled herself. Santana stared at her impassive. "About what, Quinn?"

Quinn exhaled. Many things like stealing Finn, forcing me to join Glee, you being a cheerleader and trying to ruin my life. "It's about Mr. Schuester's choreography; It sucks," she said with an aire of superiority, her left eyebrow arched.

"It's completely unoriginal," Santana remarked with arrogance.

Rachel clutched her textbooks to her chest loosely. "Aren't you guys going to get shunned for talking to me?" She responded, curious.

The liquid charm Quinn used on Finn flowed "Sweetie, we're a team now. But you got to do something about Mr. Schue's dance routines." She emphasized 'something' to drive home her point.

Rachel remained silent, mistrust evident in her stare. "You have any suggestions, Santana?"

She bristled, that rather haughty look sharpening as Rachel moved to her right to let Mr. Daniel's by. However, Santana remained in the way unknowing.

"Ladies, keep it moving. You are not stones," he retorted in his typical Tennessean accent. Rachel nodded to him in his same basic clothes still: a white linen shirt, sliver silk vest, bowtie, formal knee length black frock coat and high rolled broad-brimmed planter's hat. He tipped the hat as he nodded back.

Quinn and Santana started walking as Rachel did, moving in step with her. "No, I don't," Santana remarked.

"Noted," Rachel remarked back in the same tone and with the same haughty aire. Santana's face darkened until Quinn shot her a look. She exhaled sharply.

"You know enough numbers to do Glee proud. I've seen your choreography. But to win Regionals, we need pro talent. We need Dakota Stanley."

Rachel frowned. "Who?"

"Dah-kota Stan-lee," Santana replied, annoyed. Quinn shot her another glare. You are so not helping. She drew up a fake smile. "He's the best show choir choreographer in the Midwest," she said as she waved her hands in from of her. Rachel kept pace looking ahead thoughtfully.

"He works with Vocal Adrenaline," Quinn continued, pointing as she continued walking herself.

Santana caught the cue. "We can't take Regionals without him," she looked over at Rachel as she spoke, pleased. "He was the understudy to the Candelabra in 'Beauty and the Beast' on Broadway," She sang the words, 'on Broadway' then chuckled.

Rachel inhale, holding back her excitement. It's working! Quinn thought, a big, pleased grin on her face.

Rachel got this determined look in her eyes, stopped, staring at them both. "Broadway?" The determination morphed into hardness as Puck walked by.

Quinn's smiled faded. "Shelby Concordan, their facility advisor hired him for their fall invitational. It was on the news last night. Look it up yourself."

Santana's haughtiness returned. Rachel shifted her books, putting one hand on her hips. They locked eyes, intensity building. "He's perfect for us. You want to win, right?"

Wrong question! Quinn groaned quietly, then faked the smile.

Fire flashed in Rachel's eyes. "More than you know."

Quinn shot a look, and flashed the 'collapse the pyramid' hand sign. Yet before Santana eased up, Rachel signed 'Failed move'.

"You aren't making this easy," Quinn snapped. "We know you are a cheerleader now. I am trying" she emphasized 'trying', "to accept that. Fighting amongst ourselves won't solve it. As much as we all want to."

Rachel's eyes flashed as she brought the books back to her chest definitely. Quinn snorted derisively. "Elida has been 2nd, 3rd and 6th, sweetie. They won't win no matter what you do. So how about you tell Mr. Schuester today during rehearsal."

"Things change." Rachel stared into her brown eyes with determined energy. "Our routine is already better than yours."

I'm not taking your bait, Quinn thought focusing, her eyebrow raised. She looked at Santana who dripped contempt. "Look you talentle dss puta, you think you will win, you are more foolish that I can imagine." She looked at Quinn.

She maintained her false cheer. "Are you going to tell him?"

"Yes. After I verify you aren't lying," she stared at her. Quinn simply raised an eyebrow, maintaining her smile. "These are his last weeks there, so he will be available. All we have to do is approach him and pay his fee. It can't be that much?" The fake smile turned real as she noticed Rachel soften.

"Remember we do have practice in the auditorium today. We are doing 'Rain songs' this week." Rachel reminded them. Confusion rippled across Santana's face and Quinn hid hers.

"Finn singing Phil Collins?" Rachel commented as the heavy rat-a-tat of driving rain striking the roof filled the background. A peal of thunder rolled across the hall causing the lights to flicker. All three ladies sighed.

"I hate the gym in the summer," Santana mumbled to herself.

Rachel looked at her, and walked off. "See you in glee," she shouted as they remained still. Quinn grinned. "I think we won."

"Maybe."

Rachel tensed as choir ended. The choir students flowed out leaving the room empty save her and Brad. Glee would start soon but she doubted it would be on time today. It was still raining hard.

Brad walked over to her, leaning on the piano. "You're worried. What did I say about that?"

"Don't let it get to me," Rachel replied. She then grinned brightly. "I was signed last night."

"Congratulations! When will you start recording your first album?" Brad asked excited.

"Now. Because 'Push it' was the demo, Mark said they want to use my singing here," she announced sprightly. Brad looked at her, raised an eyebrow then said, "And?"

She frowned for a moment. "My dads insist on me staying in school so it was written in the contract. That's the other reason Mark is using the Glee rehearsals. He's my manager now as well." The smile was still there.

"That explains the visit I received," Brad commented as Tina rolled Artie in, oblivious to their conversation. "Mark asked me if I had problems videotaping you. He also wanted a list of songs the club plans on doing."

"And?" she asked curious, all smiles.

"Neither Principal Figgins nor I has an issue with the videotaping. In fact, Figgins loves the idea for the prestige and money it will bring. He did remind him of the State of Ohio show choir rule 5 amendment 63 addendum 7, of which I am sure you are aware of." Kurt and Mercedes walked in discussing clothes, ignoring Brad.

Rachel frowned, realizing he was right. "I know. I can't engage in professional activity or get paid or I am lose my amateur status."

"As I was there, he called them, identified himself and got it waved in exchanged for Lady Gaga Concert tickets, plane fare to Antwerp, Belgium and backstage passes. Everyone currently apart of the club is waved. Except faculty." Brad said softly.

Rachel grinned. "Great!" Finn walked in, looked at her and smiled. She looked at him, with wonder. Oh the pep rally this morning. Everyone says he's mine but he isn't. He's Quinn's. Even if they believe otherwise, I know better. Her mood dropped briefly. Brad noticed everyone getting settled. The final bell of the day rang but most everyone ignored it. Quinn, Santana and Brittany sauntered in, in uniform. They shot a knowing glance at Rachel.

I will ignore them. They aren't my friends.

"As for the schedule even Mr. Schuester doesn't know sometimes," Brad said as he sat down at the piano.

"Know what?" Mr. Schuester said to them both as he walked in. Rachel glanced at Brad and then to Mr. Schuester waiting with that 'Oh boy here it comes' look. "What we sing day to day, Mr. Schuester."

He frowned. "I'm trying to be flexible. You all, especially you, Rachel, complain about my song choices constantly. How can I make a specific set list? You really want that?"

Kurt looked up from his conversation, horror on his face. "Umm, no. Please don't do that Mr. Schue."

"I have to second that, Mr. Schue. Random is good. As is input," Artie contributed.

"And that is my point, Rachel," he said in an irritated tone. Brad looked at her, shrugged his shoulders. Mr. Schuester was in front facing away so He didn't see Brad. Rachel looked at Mr. Schuester doe eyed, concerned. "I'm a signed artist now." Silence rippled across the club. Kurt and Tina wore sudden smiles. Finn remained neutral. Artie and Mercedes wore concerned yet pleased looks yet Quinn and Santana frowned. Brittany's eyes were wide and emotions from surprise to fear rolled across her. She clutched Santana's tightly. "I thought she could write already," she said softly. Santana chuckled.

Mr. Schuester froze. Jealousy, frustration and disappointment washed across his face. He blanked it deliberately before facing her. "Congratulations."

"I'm signed to CherryStreet Records for a two album deal. Mark told me that Deborah Gibson used her talent to make enough money to go to Broadway as well. She was not only an 80s pop icon but a successful Broadway performer as well," Jaunty delight radiated off her. Brad smiled to her yet Mr. Schuester hid did frustration. "Rachel, if this is true, it changes nothing."

Rachel looked around at everyone for a second. Annoyance flashed in her eyes. "It is, Mr. Schuester. I have these for both of you. I want everyone involved. We still have to win Nationals this year," she handed them copies of the list Mark handed her at breakfast. She then moved to hand them to everyone else. When she got to Quinn, she smiled at her conspiratorially. At least she will think this is a part of her agenda. If I can get the cheerios out of this I would. I can't.

Mr. Schuester looked at the long list of contemporary and current artists signed to UMG labels and frowned. A confused glance went to Brad who spoke up in a whisper. "It's on the level, Will." Looking over at the students, he rubbed his beard. "Students, this is no prank. Principal Figgins and I met with Mark Connors at noon to work out the details. You all received waivers. Have your parents sign and return them. Then you can say, you were there at the beginning." He looked at Mr. Schuester. "He will want to talk to you because you are facility advisor."

Mr. Schuester sighed, rubbed his chin. "Okay," he whispered. He looked at Rachel. "This-" he shook the paper, "Still changes nothing."

"I agree." She turned to everyone. "Glee will be a part of all the albums until I graduate. It was his decision since he is my manager. I stand behind it. Since 'Push it' was used as the demo, they loved it and wanted us. Not everything will be used. Only the auditorium rehearsals that are good enough."

"You're serious. Record execs gave you a contract on 'Push it'?" Kurt retorted.

"Yes. We were all good. I was better but we all know this so…"

"Then we will all be seen if that is used as a video?" Artie asked as Tina seemed excited.

"That's what I understand," she said as she walked to her seat.

Mr. Schuester rolled his eyes, exasperated. Brad caught the look. "It's a big thing to her," he whispered serious.

"That's all good to you. But she's going to be incorrigible now." He whispered back.

"Not true. Quit trying to manage her and let her lead."

He turned around with a pasted on smile. "Now that all the surprises are done, who is ready for some Phil Collins?"

Dispassionate faces abounded. Only Finn and Artie seemed pleased. "I'm happy you're allowing this Mr. Schue. Thanks," Finn remarked.

"You're welcome," He replied genuinely.

The next 15 minutes where spent going over the music, applying it to today and a discussion of Phil Collins and Genesis. Rachel asked to go to the bathroom in the middle to Mr. Schuester's annoyance. He looked at Brad who shrugged his shoulders then let her go. The next 15 were spent doing the choreography for the background dance. Quinn kept firing dark, disgusted looked at Rachel.

"5 6 7 8, step, step, and step, clap," Mr. Schuester said as he faced Brad stepping in time with Brad's piano playing. The tune was an underlying beat. Rachel stole a glance at Finn who had looked at her then to Quinn who was looking at her.

"Turn around and down," Mr. Schuester said as everyone did so. This is really bad. Worse than I thought. She scanned the group as she half stepped. Artie wheeled himself in a circle. Tina walked around, Mercedes and Kurt pivoting quickly. Finn shuffled himself around slowly. Even Brittany turned around and then stopped wobbly. Quinn turned toward Rachel with this impatient concern, while Santana remained motionless.

"Stop and kick," Mr. Schuester continued. Quinn was right. We need someone else. But then he will think I'm a diva wanting my way. That's so not it. Why can't he see he's this bad. Then she remembered how angry he was after 'Push It' and how angry he still is about it.

"And down, hit, hit!" he said, throwing his arms up and wiggling his rump.

A quick glance at Kurt's bored expression sealed the deal. "Umm…can we stop please?"

"You don't have to ask me for permission every time you need to go to the bathroom, Rachel. You can just go," Mr. Schuester remarked with a slightly amused smile. Brad looked over at Rachel, curious.

"It's not my bladder," Rachel remarked bluntly. He turned and looked at her, vexed. She glanced at the floor and around as she said, "It's the choreography."

Mr. Schuester froze, confused. "What's wrong with it?"

Rachel looked over at Quinn. "It sucks, Mr. Schuester."

"It's completely unoriginal," Santana added in a derisive tone.

Mr. Schuester looked at them surprised, disappointed.

"We can't compete with Vocal Adrenaline with these steps," Rachel responded, determin Sved to explain, yet anxious. Why are you still staring at me? Animated gravitas buoyed her voice as she pushed ahead. "You're a great vocal coach, Mr. Schuester," she glanced at Quinn as Mr. Schuester listened now interested. He realized what she was getting at.

"You're not…" she hesitated, gulping. How do I say this? "a trained choreographer."

Mr. Schuester hung his head down, disappointed. You do think I am diva-ing out. "That's what we need to be the best." She looked across to everyone stopping on Kurt before looking back. "That's why we need Dakota Stanley."

Everyone remained silent staring ahead except Finn, and the Cheerios. He was smiling at her with his eyes. Brittany was bored, arms under her bust, Santana was glaring and Quinn was pleased.

"He's the best show choir choreographer in the Midwest. He works with Vocal Adrenaline but will be done in two weeks," Quinn remarked, pleased.

"He was the understudy to the candelabra in 'Beauty and the Beast' on Broadway," Santana pointed out respectfully. She shot a secret smile at Quinn.
Mr. Schuester looked them both, a deep frown set. "Just because he understudied doesn't he performed.

A wicked grin filled Quinn's voice. "Did you ever perform, Mr. Schuester?" The delight vanished; her voice sharp and pressing. "After high school, did you even try?"

This is my fault, Now, he will blame me. Yes it's true, but I gave her the knife. Rachel stares at him sadly. He looked down at the floor, silent and distant. Then all emotions vanished.

"Back to the song. I think it's a good idea to go to the auditorium to practice. I'll see you there."

Rachel turned to Finn who was staring at her disappointed. She looked away, the guilt all over her face. He stopped staring when Quinn said his name.

Brad stopped her as she was leaving; everyone else flowing around her. Now what? 1 should have never agreed. But he is bad!

When everyone was gone, he rose and walked to her location. "They set

you up." It wasn't a question.

"I agreed, However I didn't..."she stopped, fell silent.

"Apologizing now won't change anything. Nor can I help you out of it. I just wanted to know," Brad frowned. "You have to be careful. They're aren't your friends." He stared out to door way into the quad.

"I have no friends," Rachel said morose. "Except Finn."

Brad looked at her a mixture of shock and disbelief. "Here, "he corrected her. "You have none here."

"They like me but they are not my friends," Rachel remarked. She dug in her bag for a bottle of water.

"Give them time, Here as well. You will make friends, Not just Finn." Rachel smiled at that. I Know. They can't resist me forever.

"So will it work?" Brad asked with a quick smile, "Getting a new choreographer?"

"I believe so," she said confidently.

"Then go for it. I support you. Always remember that."

"Thanks, Brad," she said as she exited. In the breezeway, she halted. Mark was talking to Mr. Schuester. Their voices carried to her location so she paused to eavesdrop. "I understand what you are asking, Mr. Connor. I simply don't have it. 1 also resent having my rehearsals hijacked," He was angry; sharp tones echoed in the steel.

"They won't be hijacked. I need to record everything so I can decide what is useable. Beside Amendment 63 Addendum 7 of the Ohio Show choir rules prevent me from using the material for the duration of the competition. I have a waiver for 'Push It'. However, I am working on ones that will last the duration of her school years but that's it. I in doing this for Rachel." He held a calmness that belated the tension in his voice.

Why are you still here? What could your interest be? Rachel thought when she noticed Brittany still starting from the other side of them. She was about the same distance from them that Rachel was. When their eyes met, Brittany stormed off, furious.

Mr. Schuester grimaced. "No you aren't. You're as bad as Sue Sylvester. You're interested in making money at any cost. I saw that E! piece on you. You're a bottom feeder. Who's your last successful artist?"

"Jackie Q," Mark said with a smarmy smile, "'Supertight' ring a bell or are you not up on your current stars?"

Mr. Schuester frowned, "Both Mr. Ellis and Principal Figgins have allowed you, so I can't say anything. Just don't interrupt." He walked off with his hands raised on disgust. Mark remained for a second before going down a sideway. Brad walked out, disheartened at the exchange. He had heard it from the doorway as well. He looked at Rachel with a sad smile. "It will be alright."

Rachel looked at him with a concerned look. "Thank you, Brad," she said softly. Otherwise. I will have to change. Why can't everything just work right? I want to stay. she thought as she walked across the quad.

Finn stared out into the audience of empty seats and three people as he pushed the prop broom. Mark, Mr. Crotzer and one of Mark's camera people were buzzing around the upper rafters and the lighting booth. Mr. Crotzer's A/V club students were checking lighting, and walking around with handhelds smiling. The third camera was functional. So now I will be on camera, he thought, waiting for the cue. This morning was a whirlwind, witnessing Rachel be something I never thought she was or could be. And it was just like everything was normal again. And then Rachel and Quinn kneed Mr. Schuester in the groin, which he didn't deserve. At least he is letting us do this.

Mr. Schuester kept looking back, glaring everytime Mr. Crotzer exulted. He has the biggest smile I'd ever seen on him have. Even larger than when they told him he could broadcast the football games. The redheaded Irishman kept remarking how 'state of the art' the cameras were, HD this, and 1080p that. Things he didn't care about. Although watching the ball game on a 55 in screen was always awesome. Shame no one had one.

He watched Rachel talking to Kurt and Mercedes about how thinks wouldn't change. How they all had a chance to be a star. She blabbed on about coattails and other stuff. It was endearing. Even when I'm upset with her I can't help but think about her. Never happened with Quinn. I have to tell her.

Finally everyone dispersed. except Mark. He took a seat in the lighting booth with the A/V student assigned for rehearsals.

Is it me? I skipped two classes to go sit in the pep rally of another school to watch a girl I don't call my girlfriend publicly, but do love sort of, cheer with a team that adores her. Yet I never voluntarily went to go see Quinn do that.

As he looked at Rachel, she caught his gaze. A nervous smile flickered before she looked away. I really screwed up, bolting the kiss. No more alone in the auditorium. I hope this makes up for it. Mr. Schuester waved at Brad motioning for the music to begin. Sounds of electric guitar mix with piano and drums as Finn drops the broom to walk to his spot as they decided in the choreography.

"You know I never meant to see you again,

"And I only passed by as a friend, yeah…

All this time I stayed out of sight, I started wondering why…"

Finn takes Rachel by the hand and they spin around, him staring her perfect brown eyes. Tina and Artie twirl as do Kurt and Mercedes. Quinn, Santana and Brittany remain with the jazz band singing backup by choice. Rachel holds his gaze as Finn, breaks to sing the chorus in the Jazz era prop mike.

"Now I, ooh, now I wish it would rain down, down on me.

Ooh, Yes I wish it would rain, rain down on me now,

Ooh, Yes I wish it would rain, rain down on me,

Ooh, Yes I wish it would rain, rain down on meeeeeee."

Finn kept his gaze on Rachel, as they pivoted and spun. Various lines were sung to her and the audience, yet the new mikes got all.

"You said you didn't need me in your life,

I guess you were right…yeah.

Well I never meant to cause you no pain,

But it looks like I did it again, yeah."

"Now I, I wish it would rain down, down on me,

Ooh, Yes I wish it would rain, rain down on me now

Ooh, Yes I wish it would rain, rain down on me,

Ooh, Yes I wish it would rain on meeeeeee."

"Though your hurt is gone, mines hanging on, inside,

And I know, it's eating me through every night and day,

I'm just waiting on your sigggggn,

'Cos I know, I know, I never meant to cause you no pain,

And I realize I let you down,

But I know in my heart of heart of hearts,

I know I'm never gonna hold you again."

"Now I, Now I know I wish it would rain down, down on me,

Ooh, You know I wish it would rain, rain down on me now,

Ooh, Yes I wish it would rain down, rain down on me,

Yes, you know, I wish it would rain down, rain down over meeeeeee. Just rain over me.

Just let it raaaain down, let it raaaain down, let it raaaain down over me.

Oh yeah, let it rain down, rain down over meeeeeee,

Just let it raaaain down, let it raaaain down, Just let it raaaain."

As the song finished, Finn looked into Rachel's eyes. He saw love, confusion and hurt in the brief moments before she broke her gaze.

Then she stormed out her flapper dress and argyle socks fluttering in the breeze.

Kurt quipped. "Not worthy of her top to but then who's counting?"

"Rachel?" Mr. Schuster shouted as she ran out the exit above.

Finn, downcast stared and shrugged.

Rachel stopped in the parking lot frustrated at not just herself but everyone. Why can't he admit he has feelings for me. Why can't he dump Quinn? I took him to Forest Hills, let him watch the pep rally. That isn't good enough? Hot tears streamed down as she opened the car's door. The pink Mini Cooper® was her gift for being their daughter. Her 15th birthday gift last December.

"Thank you dads for freedom and trust, but I failed in love." she said as she drove off.

Cheerleading practice was getting easier now. There was a rhythm that formed, making it seem easy now. So like everything, Rachel threw herself into it. Just like glee, it would mask the pain. Only Coach Grace saw it, and had an idea something was wrong,

"Can I speak with you, Rachel?" Coach Grace asked as they finished an arabesque. "Everyone else take 10. Cool and hydrate, it's a scorcher today." A bit of breeze rustled her blond odango tails making them like streamers. "She flashed an easy smile at them as they shuffled to Igloo® cooler of Gatorade®.

Rachel looked at her with a focused yet distant expression. She paused, concerned. I refuse to be sad here. So she pasted on a plastic smile as she walked to Coach Grace's position, beside the north bleachers. Her bullhorn sat on her clipboard resting on the first one. There was no fence between them and Booker field 50 yard line where Coach Grace stood.

"I'll be blunt. You seem sat and distracted when you arrived today. It's not affecting your cheering, but still I have cause for concern."

Rachel frowned. "I'm truly sorry, Coach Grace. I'll do better," she said wistfully. I won't be sad, and I won't be angry either, not about him. Maybe he—no, too harsh. Andrea, redheaded senior with a size zero body and Santana's height, ran over to her with a cup of Gatorade®.

"I apologize. I thought Rachel might be thirsty. You always seem to be drinking when you have that face," she said as she pushed the cup into Rachel's open left hand.

Coach Grace pivoted. "I need to finish. It's fine. We'll be over shortly." Rachel stared at the green paper cup with a mix of delight and worry.

"I accept your apology but that's not what I want. I want you to remember you have friends here. We care about you. And we can be there for you if you need us. I know you don't have a mother, so is there anything you want to talk about? You know, lady stuff?" Coach Grace raised an eyebrow.

Rachel smiled hesitantly, looking at her gold striper puma track top and Cheer skirt. Dad Hiram said I need to trust people more. "It's Finn, the guy…"

"Whose your boyfriend; the quarterback?" she finished politely. Rachel held in a sigh. "He won't admit his feelings and I'm letting it get to me. For that I'm sorry too. I'm nobody's burden'"

Coach Grace placed her arm on Rachel's back. "You are one of my 16 burdens. So yes I care. Have you told him how you feel?"

Rachel emptied the cup as they walked back to the squad. "Yes, but I want him too as well." It was sharp and matter of fact.

"He's a guy. He won't admit it. Give it some time then confront him."

"Noted." A frustrated grimace flashed across her face.

"And let us in more. Emily said they asked you out on one of their night treks. You keep putting it off. I suggest you go. Unless glee club is in the way."

Rachel frowned. "No, sorry again. It isn't."

Coach Grace turned and beheld her. "You're the first 15 yr. old to apologize three times in the space of 15 minutes. You have nothing to apologize for." The tone was serious.

Shock washed over Rachel. That's how I was taught. I thought…. I thought wrong. I know! We need at least 10 for our celebration so…"Coach Grace, I want you to be a part of our Rosh Hashanah celebration. Will you?" She stopped in front of the squad, the boldness of the question still in the air.

Coach Grace looked pleased."I will on one condition."

"What condition?" she asked, curious yet worried.

"You invite the whole squad." The background chatter of the squad mates ceased. Everyone turned to Rachel, who straightened up. "Where? My house can't hold 22 people. And has anyone been to one. It's a very serious and holy thing." And I can't have you messing it up either. It's too important.

"I've been to a Rosh Hashanah celebration feast before. We can have it here at the CheerHouse. It's Friday the 18th right?"

Rachel nodded.

"Can your dads handle this or will they need so help?" She asked calmly.

"Normally, yes. However, our synagogue is in Lima. So they can do this, but help is always appreciated."

"Good," She looked over the assembled squad still curious and expectant. Their faces said this was a rare event. "I expect everyone to be here after classes Friday because it happens at sundown. It's a feast and if it's important to one of the team…."

"It's important to the Team!" they all shouted in unison.

Coach Grace turned to Rachel, whispering in her ear. "I'll talk to an old friend who's a producer at Bravo, he might be able to help."

"Ok, Ladies, I need to see that twist stunt sequence, she shouted into her bullhorn, matte black with a gold star on it.

Rachel watched them wondering how she was going to explain this to her dads.

Afterwards in the CheerHouse locker room Emily, Kaylie and Andrea walked to her as she stuffed her uniform in her black duffle. "So you ready to take us up on that offer to go out on the town?" Emily asked as she held this pouty look that made her look distant and sad at the same time.

She did say I needed to be friendlier. And they have acted far better than anyone at McKinley. It's everything I ever wanted. So why am I afraid. I am Rachel Berry! I can do anything. "Yes. What is on the agenda?"

Katie chirped. "Ladies night!'"

A ripple of shock crossed Rachel's face. 'Then a ladies night it is."

"Good, because we talked it over. We decided that the solution to your problem and ours is the same. We want you in our elite group," Emily said with a grin similar to Quinn's earlier. Fear flashed in Rachel's eyes.

"Relax. It's not bad. You are wicked talented. One of the best," Kaylie replied, showing her left wrist. The other ladies did the same. Each had a gold star tattoo on theirs.

"Those real?" Rachel asked, wide eyed.

"Of course," Emily replied, amused "And we want you to get one."

Andrea smiled as Emily and Kaylie nodded. "I have a brother in Akron who does ours for free. He lives there. He owns a Tattoo parlor near Carmel High. I know it's out of the way—"

"It's perfect," Rachel interrupted, delighted. "Vocal Adrenaline, my ghee clubs competition goes there, we want to hire the choreographer they have there. This way I can see him in action before he leaves?"

Andrea smiled weakly. Emily and Kaylie looked at each other and shrugged. "Deal, only if you go with us to a local night club after we stop there."

"Then we are on our way." Rachel grinned. I have a plan.

Quinn awoke frustrated. The cramps and sickness were interfering with everything. So she stopped eating, figuring that a fast would help. It served to only make things worse, much worse. Three days of water, juice, and stood by her locker woozy. Placing her hand on her forehead, she stared at Rachel as she walked to her locker.

"You can stop staring now. Your slushie attack failed," she said flatly without animosity.

"So why are you wearing a cupcake? And how did you convince Finn to wear a T-bone?" She asked sharply. Rachel shot her a confused look. Quinn continued to stare until Santana and Brittany walked by looking like celery. Rubbing her eyes, Quinn looked again. Everyone was food. And then the room started to spin. Last thing was the sound of Finn in a barrel shouting, "Quinn!"

The nurse, an elderly lady named Mrs. Belvedere, was sitting at the nurse's station typing when she awoke. "Where am I?" And why is my head stuffed with cotton?

"Nurse's station, lass. Captain of the football team brought you here with his ebony haired companion. She stayed awhile, concerned."

Finn and Santana? That don't sound like her.

Then the Cheerios nurse came to check on you and reminded her she had practice in Elida. He seemed generally concerned but he's a bit of a ponce anyway." Amusement ripped through her welsh accent.

Quinn furrowed her brow at her. Rachel hates me and with good reason. Nothing makes sense anymore. "Can I have aspirin?"

"Is it on file?"

"Of course."

"Good, because it's next to you in the paper cup."

Quinn pulled herself completely upright and emptied the cup in one smooth motion. "I'm Ok, can I go. I need to eat something?" Wooziness and hunger gnawed at her abs and head. Yet, the cramps were gone.

"Yes and that's because you do. I also suggest a pregnancy test." She looked straight at her, apprised her with a dismissive wave. "All the facility know that celibacy club is a load of BS, lass, so don't give me that look."

Quinn stood and stared horrified, disgusted. Why did I even believe you, Puck! You are such a loser! "Why?"

"Because you have the signs. Excluding the lack of eating. When was your last period?" Heavily lined round face with deep brown eyes and hook nose flashed compassion.

"I…I…don't remember," she hesitated, her eyes widening in realization of the possibility. "I am irregular."

"There's a pamphlet there as well. You can take to the counselor if you want."

"No!" Talk to Ms. Pillsbury? Coach said she's a fool, and was on a nice day. This is so not happening! I can't be pregnant! I am not! These thoughts repeated themselves all the way home.

The ride up was fascinating. I can't a time I've had more fun without my dad's. I really wish this could happen more often, Rachel mused, delighted. The conversations floated from guys and relationships to show tunes and Broadway. And even though Andrea frowned when I corrected her, she was wrong about 'Guys & Dolls' and 'South Pacific' after all, she still agreed. Brad was right. So was Coach Grace. I do have friends.

"Rachel can I ask you a serious personal question?" Andrea posed, her blue eyes sparkling in the twilight. A serious, focused look surrounded them.

"Sure," she said hesitant. A look of cautious concern crept across her face. "If everyone hates you there and you have no friends there, why don't you transfer to us permanently. We would love you in our drama club. No we don't compete but the hard part for you is done. You already have a contract. It would be wicked awesome to have you."

Rachel blinked, shocked silent.

"Coach Grace said she talked to Coach Anders and he's open to putting Finn on the Football team, now that Sean Mathers broke his back." Emily and Kaylie shot her sharp looks. She gulped and shrugged. Emily sighed. "He was our first string quarterback. Sweet guy."

Rachel frowned, mixed emotions swirling. "I would like to but I need Glee club. I want to win. I need victory like oxygen."

"OMG!" Kaylie and Emily said together. "You are just like Coach Grace said. Just like her."

"I understand," Andrea replied, disappointed. "That doesn't mean we don't want you."
"Rachel looked somber but was torn. I want you. I love being at Forest Hills. But I need Glee. Without singing, High school is meaningless. Cheerleading is fun but it's a team sport. They don't go on to be performers. Singers do. She reminded herself as she looked out the window at the stream of highway lights illuminating the darkness. Yet is Glee performing? It's better than last year but I'm still carrying the load and the Cheerios are up to something. A sign announcing 'The City of Akron welcomes you' shot past as she continued to muse.

"Rachel?" Andrea asked from beside her.

"Yes?"

"Why do they hate you so much?" Tenderness shone in her eyes as she asked.

Rachel sighed, opened her mouth, made a face and closed it, silent.

"It bothers me; all of actually. Other than your need to be right with comes from lack of socialization and your drive for success, you are fun to be around. Everyone nodded.

"I want to win," Rachel said confidently. "I am a winner,"

"So do I. We all do," Andrea replied concern crinkling her button nose.

Emily who was driving, looked back as they parked in lot across the street from an old gas station. "So do the Cheerios, even if they cheat. That's not it. It's more. Are you aware that the first of the two National Championships, the National Cheerleaders Association one happens just before Thanksgiving. It will be on ESPN. Not ESPN 8 the 'ocho' or ESPN 2 but ESPN itself. We won that 2007 but got robbed last year and the year before. The Universal Cheerleading Association is in March. That one we haven't won in five years. Sylvester keeps buying off the judges."

"Em! You don't know that!" Kaylie shouted angrily staring at her twin.

"I do too. And you've seen the proof," she retorted. Looking at Rachel, she asked, "Isn't that enough? The personal trophies are huge themselves."

Rachel shook her head, sad face showing.

"No. It isn't. I'm sorry. I should have said this before. I want Glee for me. Being anonymous is worse than being poor. And while I am not anonymous with you, I am not noticed. In Glee, I am. I am a signed recording artist now, and I feel like I am cheating you all if I am not honest about this."

Silence reigned as Rachel looked at them musing. Each stared back at her with muted expressions. Finally Emily broke the silence. "If you think we are turning around now or rejecting you, you're wrong. You are our friend and teammate. None of us want to be cheerleaders as a career."

"I want Broadway too. That's why I am stage manager of the Drama Club at Forest Hills," Andrea said calmly.

"And we want to be Oceanographers. So we are going to apply to Scripps next year for early admission in fall 2012. We're all living the dream," Emily said.

Rachel laughed. I am, aren't I. Friends, a career, a car, a guy who might be my perfect boyfriend if he would admit he likes me and dumps her.

"So all things being equal, would you come to us?" Kaylie asked, curious.

"Yes," Rachel responded with a sly smile. "If you had a Glee club."

"But we don't. It was cut years ago." Andrea sighed.

"I know. And we are fighting to keep ours. If we, the Wolverettes win that NCA National Championship, it will take away from the Cheerios. That can only help glee," Rachel confidently commented.

"And the fact that it will be the first trophy that we get in five years that has first place on it. We will get all the scholarships we were promised four years ago as well as that $200 gift card we were promised," Andrea rejoiced as she opened the car door and hopped out.

"Now we need to go in before people think we are waiting on a deal."

The tattoo parlor was inside an old gas station convenience store. The pumps had long since vanished, replaced with design adds and discount marquees under the canopy. An ancient 'Joe Camel' sign blended in with the tattoo signs plastered on the dirt stained windows. As they walked to the front doors, wide eyed trepidation cloaked Rachel as she looked at Andrea, Kaylie and Emily.

"Relax, Rachel. He's clean. It's immaculate inside. He has to be able to keep his license."

Rachel gulped. "Noted."

Kaylie paused near the functioning payphone as Emily opened the door. A chime rang in the background. "I'll cover a second one if you like."

Rachel forced a smile. "Thank you very much."

Am I really going through with this? This will bring me deeper into their group. So what happened to just helping? Friends did. I have friends now. No need to be in every club at McKinley like last year. Walking into the stark, well lit interior, she noticed several chairs filled with people being tattooed. The metallic walls, slathered with dingy cream colored paint, were papered with designs from simple crosses to advanced dragons with claws gripping things. Rachel frowned, her lips pursed. Finn enjoyed himself me with not that it changed his relationship with Quinn any. I am still boyfriendless. Will this impress him? Does it matter? And Quinn and the Cheerios…immaterial. I can get him from her. My friends and I, together we are strong. We all can get our dreams.

Andrea's brother looked up as the buzzer announced their entrance. Scanning them, he smiled broadly at Rachel. A broad arm waved them back as he dove from his will littered design table.

"Andrea, it's been a while."

"Hasn't it?" She quipped back. The tall, gaunt man wearing the white ribbed tank top exposing an elaborate yet partially obscured double dragons dueling over a pile of gold. He rubbed his cropped ebony hair with his beringed broad left hand, bemused. To Rachel, he shouted, "Welcome to Heaven and Hell!"

She cringed. The grimaces and pained expressions on the receiving patrons didn't help much either.

"Your friend looks out of her element," he remarked, gesturing at Rachel.

Why am I here again? Solidarity, friendship and fame. All famous artists have tattoo; how bad can it be?

The rhythmic beat of 'Can't remember your name' by British R&B sensation Audrey Birnbaum thumped as Andrea's brother approached Rachel. His bright jade eyes locked with her umber ones. "You are wondering about the pain? Having second thoughts? It won't be as bad as you think. And I can do it for free since you are Andrea's friend and it's your first time. If you have any more doubts, check out that standee." He waved his hand toward the life size standee of a petite woman with short, shaggy ebony hair and shaggy bangs. Those bangs nearly blotted out the kohl lined onyx eyes in her heart-shaped face. She wore black capris, a pair of jimmy choo ballerina flats and a Fendi black silk 3/4-sleeve blouse. Above the collar, her slender neck was covered in tattoos. At the bottom was Audrey Birnbaum's signature and the name of her most recent album.

Everyone but Rachel ignored it. She stared, perplexed briefly before snapping out of it. Whoa! If she had that many there then one on my wrist can't be that bad.

Andrea's brother took his hand which had been under his chin and with a rolling sweep wave beckoned her to an empty chair in the back near his table.

"Brent, you don't know –-" Andrea stated, quickly flustered.

"I can smell fear. See it too. Besides I owe you for that," he flicked his hand towards the standee. "That roadie you sent was a part of her tour and she stopped in herself. She even has some of that new popular freehand tat artist's Esme Castaneda's designs. Just look!" He pointed at the several designs handing on the wall. "It's all good." He looked to Rachel. "So what would you like to wear?"

Rachel looked confused until she noticed his arm covered in intricate tattoos of many different fantasy beasts. "A…gold…star on my…" she paused, gulping. You can do this!

"Left wrist, like this," Andrea interrupted, as she shoved her 1 inch across tattoo into his face.

He batted it away with an annoyed glare. "I know what it looks like. Relax, will you? I'm not going to injure her."

Rachel gulped again, wide eyed. The apprehension caught Brent's attention. "That stress is bad. I want you to think calm thoughts. Yes it will hurt but not bad."

What did Dad Leroy's grandpap say about pain? Yes. 'Pain is weakness leaving the body.' Focus, you can do this. You are Rachel Berry, you can do anything. She exhaled and focused. "I'm ready."

"So am I…" Brent paused waiting for her to say her name.

"Rachel, Rachel Berry," she smiled brightly.

Brent took her left hand, gently squeezed it. "It's ok. Everyone has nerves the first time. But most everyone who gets one gets more." He stared into her eyes with compassion and understanding. A small smile curled his lips. "If it hurts too much, I can stop. However, once I enter the color phase, it won't look right if I do. And I am guessing looking right is important to you?"

Rachel nodded, tense. "Noted. Make it your best ever."

Brent chuckled. "I will. Otherwise, I would never hear the end of it." He grabbed his tattoo gun, loaded it with ebony ink, attached a sterile needle from a pack on the tray before him then rested it on the tray.

Gently grasping her left wrist, he prepped it with a gauze pad soaked in antiseptic cleaner. "Relax and lay back." He smiled as he tapped the couch beside his tray and ergonomic chair. "Place your arm on the rest, palm up."

This is actually soft and…aahh! Rachel thought as a soft buzz filled the immediate space around her. The needle bit flesh. "Aaahh!" Rachel cringed, her eyes watered as they squeezed close even as she yelled. It's like sunburn and bee stings assaulting my wrist. Grimacing, she held steady as he drew a pentagram in ebony then colored the center in gold. Under the bottom points was a tiny five clawed bear print with a azure FHHS underneath that. It took about an hour.

Staring at it briefly to insure it was correct, he grinned broadly and winked. "Perfect!" Then he dabbed at the bleeding with guaze and an astringent to cut the blood flow to a minimum. "Ok," he smiled after cleaning the tattoo with H2Ocean® cleaner and bandaging it. "Average healing time is two weeks. Use this to care for it. No Neosporin. Bactrian, if you run out. It has to heal naturally." He handed her a goodie bag of H2Ocean® and Tattoo goo® products. "That's for the aftercare." He grinned again as she rose, staring at her stinging wrist. All for friends. What until Finn sees this!

Why am I do this again? Oh, because she asked while crying and I care too much. Finn thought as he drove 70mph across the I-75 overpass of US-30 on his way to Akron with Quinn. It's a medical clinic, nice. It was unknown to everyone as she insisted. A deep sigh left him as they shot by pasture lands with sparse foliage. "Explain to me why I need to drive 150 miles to this clinic again?" Annoyance seeped into his voice, even though he knew it shouldn't. I volunteered.

"I seem to remember you insisted," she growled back, still cleaning up the smeared mascara from her tearfest.

"I said I'd take you to the doctor because you don't look well. I figured it was in Lima. Mine is, I think." The tone was calmer yet still stiff.

She rolled her eyes and stared at him and sighed. "I don't want my father to know," the growl was still there but so was fear. She noticed him take an exit to OH-696 N Beaverton exit. He then headed down back the way they came.

The stare of horror was frightening. "GPS says there is a Flying J truckstop about a mile from us off exit135," he said completely calm as they tore of the another I-75 overpass. "Calm down, we can get drinks and food. We have awhile to go." He glanced at her a mixture of worry and wonder. "Want to talk about that expression?"

"Not really," she replied softly, exhausted. She stared out the window again. Power lines flew by. Car headlights illuminated the cloudy dusk. A set of traffic lights as the highway become a rural city street for a stretch. In the windows reflection, he saw something he'd never seen before. Quinn looked lost. Melancholy had overtaken her; a gloomy, pensive sadness so unlike the confident Quinn he knew. She looked over at him as he pulled into the a gas pump slot lot at the Flying J®. $2.55 a gallon! Oh well. He though as a quite sigh left his lips. Yes, I wanted to let you down easy. I want to be with Rachel. Even now. Yes, I screwed up but if I don't make it right, it's gone. And then you get sick. "Not anymore. It can wait until you are well." The frustration leaked out yet her sad face didn't change. Nor did she move to get out. So he opened the door. The bright fluorescents of the canopy cast shadows on the car door. Climbing out, he continued. "And if everything is OK, we can go out later. It's been awhile since we have been out on a date."

Her face lit up. An easy smile formed as she opened the door and climbed out. "That would be nice. How about the 'Deaf Lime'? It's a club my friend Vanessa mentioned. She went there once. She said it's nice and allows teens."

He laughed as he pumped the gas. "OK. But only if you are well." He chided.

She groaned, then realized that she did so. "Sorry. It's only a test. They will do it confidentially, and free. Plus they are willing to do it late since I am outside the city. I need it taken quietly. You promised, remember?"

Finn nodded as he hung up the pump. I do. I also remember you and Puck talking. But Puck talks to everyone. Except Rachel. I wonder what she is doing right now?

Rachel was scowling. Staring into the glass of the Carmel High auditorium, she peered into the dingy light spattered darkness. An exit light cast a sallow light in the distance along with a few emergency lights. Aren't they supposed to practice 'til midnight. What happened? Beyond those lights, nothing. "Why won't you open," she shouted fitfully as she pulled on the locked glass doors a third time.

"No one's here, Rachel. Let's go," Andrea shouted from the Escalade driver's window. It was her turn to drive.

Rachel glanced at the parking lot again. A smattering of cars of various makes and models were in the parking lot. Nevertheless, the school looked closed. Only parking lot and street lights were on.

A warm, fragrant wind tugged at Rachel's still bound ponytail. Defeated, she stomped back to the car and plopped into the back. A petulant aire cast her face as she pouted. Emily and Kaylie cast sympathetic gazes at her. Finally sadness set in. "Sorry, I wanted to see the competition and him in action."

"Nothing to be sorry for. Let's go have some fun. There is this awesome club near the University of Akron called the 'Deaf Lime'. It's 'Guns and Roses' night and they will let anyone up at the mic after ten. That's 10 minutes from now." Andrea grinned.

Rachel smiled, "I like that. It's a great opportunity for everyone to hear me sing. Can anyone record it?" She looked at each of them hopefully.

Kaylie produced her IPhone® and Emily drew out her blue Motorola Droid®. "We got that covered."

"Great!" Rachel chirped. I know a few rock ballads. Perhaps this can work off my anger. But why would roses be connected with guns as a theme? Out of the corner of her eye, she saw them looking at each other again. It's nothing. I'm being suspicious. My wrist still stings and I wonder what Finn is doing?

Quinn sat in the waiting room of the nondescript white clapboard building with the bay windows. It was once a reality office but now it was much more. Across the street was a Wendy's. Dr. Carson had been the only one left. He wait for her to arrive so it was silent now in the room. It was after 8 but she called asking them to wait, she was on her way. And they did. Why did I believe Puck when he said I was special. Why didn't I resist him? Of course, he could even put it on right, could he? Not that this hasn't happened before, still…