Rachel pushed her cart down the aisle of the grocery store, avoiding the eyes of everybody she passed. She'd been back for over a month, but she was still terrified of running into anyone she knew, of anyone other than her dads knowing that she was back in Lima.
She missed New York. The sense of potential, life, dreams. But right now, she thought as she scanned the shelves, she missed good vegan options. In her old neighborhood, there'd been an amazing range of ethnic and health food stores that sold quinoa, wheatgerm, spices she'd never even heard of in Ohio. The most exotic thing the Lima grocery sold was sweet chili Doritos. Rachel picked up what appeared to be a pie in a can and was examining the label dubiously when, out of the corner of her eye, she caught a swish of blonde hair as a very familiar face appeared at the end of the aisle.
Quinn Fabray, walking beside her mother and chatting away happily. Rachel suddenly felt numb; her fingers fumbled and the canned pie fell to the floor, landing with a bang that made her wince and Quinn look up. Well, that was it for any chance of hoping that the girl just wouldn't see her.
Quinn's eyes widened. She mumbled something to Judy, who smiled and said loudly, "Dear, I think I forgot the peas. I'll run back and get them while you catch up with your little friend here."
Quinn nodded absently as her mother wheeled their cart around and sped off in the other direction.
"I can't believe you're here. I thought you dropped off the face of the Earth. You never replied to any of our texts. I think Tina even made a Myspace account so she could send you a message, and nothing," Quinn murmured.
"I-I-I mean, I-I," Rachel stammered. What could she possibly say? She knew how rude she'd been.
"I mean, it's cool if you were busy or whatever," Quinn continued, "It's just I thought we were, you know, friends. Or something."
Rachel nodded. "I know. I'm really sorry, it's just -," she faltered.
"Too busy going after that amazing Broadway career?" Quinn suggested lightly.
"N-No," Rachel said. "Not quite."
Quinn raised an eyebrow. "Record deal? Can't see you as a teenybopper idol, but okay."
Rachel bit her lip, and Quinn frowned.
"I'm sorry. It's, well, it's not really any of my business. Look, I'm only in town for a couple of weeks, but if you want to, we could grab a cup of coffee or something. You know, talk. As friends," she added hastily, "of course."
Rachel searched Quinn's face, but it was carefully blank.
"I guess I'd like that," she began, hesitantly. "You don't. Um. You don't think it'll, you know, hurt too much?"
Quinn smiled, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Contrary to popular belief, Rachel Berry, you're not the centre of the universe. It is possible to get over you, you know."
Rachel swallowed hard. Even back then, they'd rarely spoken aloud about what was happening between them. Sometimes she wondered if she'd imagined it all, even after all that she'd lost because of it.
"Well, okay. When's good for you?"
"How about right now? You know, since you've kind of proven you can't be trusted to return calls," Quinn teased.
Rachel flushed. "Well, um. I have to buy my, um..." she trailed off, glancing at the floor.
"You can't possibly be about to tell me that Rachel Berry is going to buy a pie in a can. Especially not a dented one," Quinn said, laughing.
"Well, it's three meals for $1.99," Rachel said defensively. "That's a good price, although from the look of things Mommy still buys everything for you, so I guess you wouldn't know."
"Actually, I'm here to buy groceries for my Mom," Quinn said coolly. "A lot has changed in the past three years, you know. Or you would know, if you'd bothered to keep in touch."
"Sorry. That was a stupid thing to say."
Quinn's expression softened. "It's okay. I'm sure you had your reasons for the radio silence. Come and tell me over coffee. Or don't tell me, but do come and have the coffee. Please?"
Rachel nodded.
"Great. Let me just find my mom and give her some cash, and we'll head over to the Lima Bean."
The Lima Bean was just as Rachel remembered it. She hadn't visited since she'd come back from New York. Mind you, she hadn't really gone anywhere other than the grocery store since she'd come back. Mostly, she sat in her room and watched old sitcoms. Her fathers sometimes put Funny Girl on loudly in the the sitting room and made homemade pizzas with vegan cheese, and she knew they were trying to tempt her out. She didn't miss the uneasy looks they exchanged when she padded out into the kitchen in her flannel pajamas, filled bowls with cereal, padded back to her room. It made her heart ache, and she so much wanted to be able to join them, to be the bright, smiling girl they knew and loved, so that they didn't have to worry anymore. But whenever she steeled her resolve to get up, to soldier on, to pretend it was okay until it was, she'd feel the disappointment crushing her until all she wanted to do was sit alone in the dark and cry. At least the sitcoms gave her something else to think about.
Quinn set a cup of coffee on the table in front of her, startling her out of her thoughts.
"One large soy latte. I wasn't sure if you were still a vegan, maybe not if you eat pie in a can now, but I figured it was better to be safe than sorry."
Rachel smiled gratefully and took a sip. As badly as things had gone with Quinn, she sometimes wondered if she'd made the wrong choice all that time ago. Finn had never understood why her veganism was so important to her. She still felt a little sick when she remembered how he'd told her, months after the fact, that he'd once forgotten entirely and served her a meat dinner. And let her believe it was meat substitute! Worse, he'd told her about it in such a casual manner that it'd been clear he didn't think it was a big deal.
She cleared her throat and picked up her purse. "So, um. How much was the coffee?"
Quinn waved a hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it. This one's on me."
Rachel hesitated.
"Don't worry. I don't expect that a coffee means you owe me sex."
Rachel froze.
"I mean," Quinn continued, "You're a classy girl. I probably at least have to buy you dinner."
"Um, uh..." Rachel desperately searched for something to say. Damn it. How could this girl still throw her off guard like this?
Quinn giggled. "Relax, Rach. You ought to know I'm just messing with you."
Rachel breathed a sigh of relief. She wasn't used to being lost for words. Though she had to admit, the idea that Quinn might still want her was flattering. She wasn't exactly at the top of her game these days, and Quinn was breathtakingly gorgeous as ever. She could have had anyone she wanted. Probably did have, Rachel scolded herself, so there was no point thinking about what might have been.
"So," she said. "What are you doing back in Lima?"
She settled back in her seat, sipping her coffee. There. If there was one thing New York had taught her, it was that you needed to go on the offensive. If she just kept asking Quinn questions about herself, maybe they wouldn't have to talk about Rachel.
Quinn sipped her own drink. "We have a couple of weeks break in filming, and it's nice to come back and see my mom. She burned through most of the money she got in the divorce pretty quickly, so she's been having kind of a hard time lately."
"Filming?" Rachel asked disbelievingly. "You mean like, a movie?"
Quinn half-smiled. "I'm surprised. I thought for sure you'd have Googled me once or twice. I know I've searched for you. But I guess you're using a stage name, because I never find anything."
Rachel rummaged in her handbag, desperately trying to avoid Quinn's gaze.
"I looked you up on Facebook," she admitted. "But I didn't find anything."
Quinn nodded. "I have a private profile. I've had a couple of crazy guys trying to track me down. My agent said it'd be better not to have private stuff floating around the internet when I get more famous, anyway. Especially stuff that might suggest... well, you know."
Rachel shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "So you're a movie star now. Congrats. I'm happy for you."
"I wouldn't say a star. Not yet. But I'm working hard, and I'm hopeful. And don't think I don't know what you're doing. You're trying to distract me so I won't ask you what you're doing in Lima."
Rachel glanced down at her hands.
"It's okay, Rach," Quinn said gently. "You obviously don't want to tell me. I'm not going to push any more, but I just want you to know that when you're ready to talk, I'll be ready to listen."
"It's not exactly that I don't want to talk to you," Rachel wished for the thousandth time that it was easier to arrange the jumbled mess inside her head into nice, neat sentences. "It's just that it's really hard. Embarrassing, even."
She picked up her coffee with shaking hands, then quickly set it back down as her unsteady grip on the cup threatened to slosh hot coffee all over the table.
"You and I have... well, we have history, and we never ever talked about it, and I don't really know how I should feel about you now. How you should feel about me. I just don't know if you're the person I should be talking to about this."
Quinn placed a hand on top of Rachel's shaking one. Rachel gasped in surprise and looked up into the other girl's beautiful hazel eyes. She saw only sincerity, but too often she had seen anger, even scorn. She looked away again.
"You're right. We never talked about it, and we should have. I don't know, maybe it's too late now. But perhaps we could start from our beginning. We could," Quinn grinned, "sing about it."
Rachel snorted with laughter, despite herself. "Yeah, right. Because that always worked so well back in the day."
Quinn, a wicked glint in her eye, began to sing softly,
"You talked of politics, philosophy and I
Smiled like Mona Lisa
We had our chance
It was a fine and true romance"
Rachel hid her face in her hands.
"Please, stop," she whispered. "Everyone will be looking at us."
"You used to like it when everyone looked at you," Quinn pointed out. "And I always said status is currency. If I'm a movie star, or at least, I dunno, a movie... moon rock, I'm pretty sure that means I get to do whatever I want. Especially in a dead town in Ohio where nobody knows me."
Rachel looked around furtively. She had to admit, nobody was really paying them much attention. They were eating and drinking and chatting like nothing was going on. It was a bit strange, actually.
Quinn took her silence as license to continue.
"I can still recall our last summer
I still see it all"
The song called to Rachel, stirred something almost forgotten inside her. Without even really realizing she was doing it, she joined in, adding the strength of her powerful voice to Quinn's sweetly reserved one.
"Walks along the Seine, laughing in the rain
Our last summer
Memories that remain."
Even with the increase in volume that came with both of them singing together, not a head was turned. How surreal, she thought. She had never noticed how self absorbed everyone in Lima was.