"I'm going to give you 30 minutes," her dad says with an air on finality. "Grab all the stuff you need, then get out."
All Quinn can do is stare. For a moment she just thinks she heard wrong, because there is no way her dad could have said that to her. There's no way he would just dump her out, like trash. He loves her.
But then he coughs, still glaring at her. "You've already lost five minutes. Hurry up." And reality is crashing back down, and no, it's not a dream, it's terrifyingly real. She feels the disbelief and the rejection bubbling up from deep down inside of her, and she wants to scream and shout, make promises and apologies that will fix everything and make it better again. All that manages to come out is a heartbroken sob. Words have failed her.
Mrs. Fabray starts at the sound, perhaps just realizing the reality of the situation. She stares, wide-eyed, between her husband and daughter. Finn, equally as stunned, doesn't seem to know how to respond. Quinn, not knowing what else to do, begins to move to gather her things. Her mother jumps up.
"Wait! Wait…" she begs, "that's our daughter, Russell. Do you really want to throw her out of our lives so easily?"
"How can you say that!" He asks disbelievingly. "She went and disregarded all of the things we taught her and got pregnant! What do you think people will say about us?"
"Can't we just try?" she pleads desperately. "Please. Can't we try and work with this? With her?"
"Ye-Yeah, Mr. Fabray," Finn jumps into the conversation, stuttering. "I'll work really hard, to help with the money. And if you do keep trying, that'll make people think you're…selfless or whatever. That's good, right?" All three of them look hopefully to the Fabray patriarch, beseeching him for another chance. He looks back at them unforgivingly, but finally gives an imperceptible nod.
"Fine." He grunts grudgingly. Finn throws his arms around Quinn in relief, and just in time too, because suddenly it feels like her legs can't support her weight anymore and she collapses.
"Thank you," she whispers over and over again like a mantra, "thank you, thank you, thank you." Who she's thanking, God or her father or whoever, doesn't seem to matter to her; her family still wants her. They aren't getting rid of her.
The whole next day, Quinn is floating in a bubble of relief and happiness. Karofsky threw a slushy at her? Hey, at least she brought extra clothes this time. Santana called her Tubbers again? She could do better.
Basically, it was all small fry compared to what she thought her dad might do to her-to what he almost did to her. Now that she doesn't have to worry about his reaction, it's like a huge weight has been lifted from her shoulders. For the first time since she saw that little pink plus sign, Quinn goes through a whole day genuinely smiling. It's nice.
There was one weird thing, however. When she walking into glee club with Finn, all the conversation stumbled and halted for a moment, before continuing again. And if that wasn't strange enough, she caught a couple of the other members staring at her. It wasn't like her pregnancy was anything new, so what was it this time? The only one acting the same towards her that day was Rachel. What that meant, if it meant anything at all, was lost on her.
But, strangeness aside, Quinn had pretty much had a nice day. If only Mr. Fabray could have had the same.
He couldn't help but feel that everyone around him knew he was the guy with the knocked up daughter. He was being ridiculous; he realized that. If he didn't even know until the night before, then how would everyone else know? But then, Mr. Fabray couldn't help but think that obviously Sue Sylvester knew. And so did Finn's mom, probably. And Quinn's glee club coach, Mr. Schuester. Also, it wasn't that she was hiding it very well; other kids must've noticed-what if they told their parents? And then they told their friends? Maybe, Mr. Fabray thought, a cold sweat forming upon his brow, maybe everyone already knew about it before him and were laughing at him behind his back. After all, his daughter was the one who did the wrong thing and she obviously didn't trust her father enough to tell him first. Maybe they were all judging him right now; gossiping to each other about how terrible a parent he was.
Mr. Fabray tried to shake off his fears. He had no proof of anything and besides-he promised that he would try. This was just the first challenge and he needed to be strong.
That night, he came home early to cook dinner for his family for the first time in twenty years. Judy and Quinn had stared at him with matching expressions of shock and awe, before crying out in delight and tackling him. And this time, what he thought as he let go enough to laugh and smile with them, was: Maybe this is worth it.
That optimistic viewpoint deteriorated after only a week.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. Anyways, a couple days after Mr. Fabray decided not to kick Quinn out, Quinn had had enough of the strange behavior the glee club had been displaying. Her curiosity would simply not let it go. Finally, she went over and grabbed Artie (the most susceptible) after practice and demanded he 'spit it out before I spit on your face." Artie, suitably cowed, complied.
"We all know the truth about you and Puck!" the wheelchair-bound boy blurted. "We know that Finn's not the real baby daddy!"
"W-what?" Quinn asked, a little shocked. That hadn't been what she expected to hear.
"I-I'm sorry," Artie continued nervously. "Puck told Mercedes, and she told the rest of us. Please don't spit on me."
"Ah, yeah…I won't," Quinn reassured him absentmindedly, still reeling from his confession. "…Everyone knows…?"
"Everyone but Rachel," Artie admits, "because we all thought she'd never be able to keep that a secret."
"Oh…thanks." Artie eyes her anxiously.
"Quinn…" he coughs a bit, and then goes on. "No one's…judging you or anything. Well, I guess some people have their own ideas about what you should have done, but we've all decided to respect your decision. So…we're not going to try to tell you what to do or anything." He gives her a small smile. "I heard Mercedes even told Puck to leave you alone. And…I can't really speak for everyone, but…I don't mind standing by whatever you choose to do about the whole baby daddy thing." His smile grows a little bigger at the end, and he's looking up at Quinn with an understanding look that she definitely doesn't deserve. How many times had she stood by and laughed as this amazing, thoughtful person got slushied?
Quinn has to blink rapidly to hold back tears, because she thinks that's the first time in this whole mess that someone's said that to her; someone who doesn't have ulterior motives or who wants to steer her in their own directions. "T-thanks, Artie." She says, her voice thick. "I really appreciate that." She gives him a watery smile. It's funny, she thinks, I came in looking for petty gossip and I ended up finding a friend.
Meanwhile, Mr. Fabray is parking his car in the school parking lot right now. He knows his daughter has a car-he bought it for her, after all-and that she knows how to drive. But, what if she suddenly went into labor while driving? It would be much safer if someone was with her, and he volunteered for the job. He needs to be a more responsible parent anyways. He'd been negligent; that's how she'd gotten herself pregnant.
As he walks across the parking lot, heading off towards the glee clubroom, he can't help but notice the field (McKinley has a pretty big one). As he watches the football players grunting with excursion and muscled athletes run laps around the track, a gaggle of girls rush out onto the field, clad in red and white. Mr. Fabray slows to a stop, gazing blankly as the Cheerios go through their warm up stretches, regret pulling at the pit of his stomach. His daughter had once been a part of that. She had been the leader. And all of it was ruined.
"Well, here's someone I never expected to see wandering around," a harsh voice says, disrupting his thoughts. He glances up to see Sue Sylvester stalking towards him, dressed in her customary tracksuit with a blow horn in hand. "I wonder why you're here." She regards him critically, and he shifts, uncomfortable. Sue had always had an uncanny ability to make him feel out of his element, and he hates her for it.
"Picking up Quinn." He answers, although she never really asked him. Sue smiles at him, but it's anything but nice.
"Did you get lost, Jerry Falwell?" She asks conversationally. "I don't think your daughter is anywhere near here-there are no pregnant girls on my Cheerios."
"I know," Mr. Fabray responds, disconcerted as usual by her total lack of regard for what other people think. "I'm going to glee club."
"Oh yeah?" Mr. Fabray really doesn't get why she's still talking to him, but she is. "Must be hard, having kids. When I look at you, it makes me feel happy that I can't."
"I-I'm sorry-"
"They're all little devils." She cackles. "You should have seen the way they all devoured the news of your little angel's fall from heaven. They're all cuckoo birds, trying to push each other out of the nest because let's face it, not everyone's allowed to be at the top."
"W-what?" Mr. Fabray stutters. He hates stuttering. "They all know?"
"Yep," Sue says merrily. "Well, I'd love to stay and gloat a bit, but I've got a championship team to coach. You've heard of them, haven't you? Oh right, your brat used to be a champion, too. It's a shame that now all she is, is a glee club geek." With that parting shot, she leaves Mr. Fabray standing, stunned, alone in the parking lot.
After he gets Quinn safely home, he goes grocery shopping to make a meal for his family for the fifth time that week. The whole time, his humiliating conversation with Sue runs through his mind. He can't believe that everyone knows about it. That they've known about it. He wonders briefly how long they had known while he was left in the dark. He must have seemed like such a fool.
"I can't believe you didn't realize," a voice scolds from behind him, and Mr. Fabray starts and turns around wildly. A woman is shaking her finger at a small child sitting in a cart who's crying. He had squeezed an egg too hard, and it cracked. The yolk drips down his fingers. "Didn't you know eggs are fragile?"
Mr. Fabray shakes his head a bit at his own foolishness and continues down the isle. Occasionally, he stops to pick up an item or two. When he's done, he walks down to the cash register and waits in line. Eventually, it's his turn. A pimply youth scans his groceries as Mr. Fabray digs in his wallet. The boy chuckles.
"You're Mr. Fabray, right? Man, and I always thought you were some kinda saint." Mr. Fabray looks up sharply at that.
"What?" he asks harshly.
"Nothin'." The boy grins. "It's just-I thought you super Christian types were all about natural," He holds up one of Mr. Fabray's items, "and here you are, buying 'I Can't Believe It's Not Butter.'" Mr. Fabray continues to frown, and the boy's smile slips off of his face. "Sorry."
The rest of his things are scanned in silence.
Dinner that night is uneventful. Quinn still gives him a wide smile when he starts cooking, but the novelty has worn off a bit. And Judy's reverted back to her old ways, cradling a glass of alcohol. He tries to initiate small talk, but he knows he failed miserably. He's too busy stewing. He thinks about what he's doing and what he wants long into the night, and he comes to a decision.
Quinn gets up that morning at the usual time and does her usual routine. She's humming something, a catchy tune whose name she can't remember, as she contemplates what to wear. Quinn frowns a little at her growing stomach. It's a lot harder to dress up and keep it unnoticeable. Finally she shrugs. It's not like she needs to hide it anymore-everyone already knows. Her school knows and her parents know. She might as well show off a bit.
A couple days ago, Quinn would have been horrified at the idea of going out with her baby bump even barely noticeable. But she's almost a little happy it's there now-sure, it got her kicked off the Cheerios and now she's a social outcast. And, now she has to lie to her boyfriend. But at the same time, it showed her the people who really matter; the people who continue to stand by her. She loves it a little for that.
Quinn bounces out of her room after settling on jeans and a loose yellow shirt. Her stomach makes it bulge outwards a bit because it's not as big as the ones she'd been wearing before.
"Daddy!" she calls out. "I'm dressed!" Now they'll eat breakfast together and then he'll drive her to school. Honestly, she thinks his insistence on chaperoning her to and from school because 'she might go into labor at any moment' is kind of ridiculous. She thinks it's kind of cute, too.
"Yeah!" her dad responds, his voice hoarse, "I'm coming, Quinn." She frowns. Her dad's looked ill recently, and she hopes he's okay. She knows having a pregnant daughter must be stressful and it makes her feel guilty. Maybe she should try cooking instead tonight?
She waits in the dining room for a bit, and soon he walks in. Mr. Fabray really is looking ragged-she's never seen him with a five o'clock shadow before and his tie has a small stain on it. He looks tired.
"Are you okay?" Quinn asks, worried. He glances up quickly, seemingly just noticing her presence, and she can't help but notice him wince.
"Are you sure you want to go to school in that?" He inquires, voice raspy. "Maybe something a little bigger?"
"It's fine, Daddy." She responds. "I'm fine. Are you?" He sighs, then collapses in a nearby chair with his head in his hands.
"I need to talk to you, Quinn." She sits down next to him and puts her hand on his shoulder. When he flinches, she draws it back, startled, before settling it on her lap.
"Do you have a headache?" she questions. "I can drive myself to school if you do."
"No, no…it's not that." He turns his head so he's looking at her with one eye. Quinn can't help but notice the dark circles under it. "I'm just…tired."
"I'm sorry," she says. "Are you having a hard time at work?" Mr. Fabray just stares at her silently for a while.
"You're old enough, right?" he says to himself. "I don't really need to sugar coat things for you, right?"
"Yeah…" Quinn responds, not sure where this is going. "If you want to talk about the birds and the bees with me finally, it's a little too late." He shakes his head and sighs again.
"No, it's just…I promised I'd try, you know? And I am trying." He laughs a bit here, but it's bitter.
"You don't know what it's like to have kids. Well," he eyes her stomach-with the shirt she's wearing it's obvious she's pregnant, and Quinn suddenly has the urge to cover it up. "not yet anyways."
"When they first hold their child in their arms, do you know what a parent thinks of? Besides marveling at the fact that they made a new life with their love and stuff, I mean." He continues, "I thought of possibilities. My kid was going to be someone amazing-she was going to be an angel. My little angel. She'd have the perfect life-she'd be smart, and athletic, and she'd make me proud." Mr. Fabray smiles a little, though it's pained. Quinn just gazes at him, uncomprehending.
"I thought that about your sister, and I thought that about you, too, Quinn. And it went so well it seemed like it was something prophesied. You were head cheerleader. Chastity club president. You seemed like the perfect kid."
"But I guess you weren't," he says, still glaring at her baby bump. "I thought you'd be smarter-smart enough to stay away from sex. You were supposed to be pure. You were supposed to make me proud. But you just ended up embarrassing me."
"W-what?" Quinn tries to ask, but it comes out as a whimper. It feels like something's clogging up her throat.
"I've been trying!" he says. "I've been trying more than I wanted to, but I'm just not strong enough. I'm sorry, but it's hard."
"O-oh," Quinn manages to choke out, her eyes beginning to cloud up with tears. "I'm sorry."
"It's hard," he repeats. "I've been trying, for you. But you just don't know how hard it is for me."
"I'm sorry, Daddy."
"Yes, I'm your daddy. I'm your daddy who gets laughed at because I couldn't control you. Because I let you go and get pregnant." He's still staring at her with his head cradled in his hands. "Why couldn't you do something else? Why did you have to go and do something like that? I must've failed as a parent, I guess."
"No!" Quinn shouts, crying. "No, no, it's not your fault. I messed up, I'm sorry, Daddy, I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry, too. I'm weak. I wasn't prepared; I thought you were going to turn out differently. Now all I can see when I look at you is how I've failed."
"I'm sorry," Quinn repeats, her body practically shaking from the force of her sobs. "It'll be okay-I'll leave! I'll go somewhere else! It'll be okay again." She stands up. "See, I'm going, Daddy. You won't have to see me anymore." He's still watching her, though, and she starts leaving the room. "I'll go get my stuff, too. It'll be okay. I'm sorry."
Quinn spends the next twenty minutes packing. She would've gone faster, but her hands were shaking and she couldn't see very well through her tears. She gathers up her whole life in twenty minutes and packs it away in her car, still crying. Before she leaves she pulls a sweatshirt over her head and gives her dad one last apology. She promises to never bother him again.
Even though her dad's confession felt like it took a long time, it was only ten minutes at most. Quinn gets to school early. She sits in the empty parking lot, crying her eyes out. She can't seem to stop, even when it feels like she's cried an ocean of tears. When her body simply can't offer up any more liquid, she's left taking heaving breaths. She's practically gasping and she can't stop.
However, she is interrupted. Someone knocks on her windshield. Quinn looks up warily, just waiting to be laughed at. What she doesn't expect to see is Rachel Berry staring back at her, brown eyes filled with concern. She almost wants to laugh at how pathetic her life has turned out, with Manhands the one to see her at a time like this. She should be mortified, but she can't really bring herself to care.
"Go away," she croaks. "Leave me alone."
"Quinn," Rachel says-no, she's shouting to make sure she's being heard, "I insist you unlock this door! From the way you look, it's obvious to me that you've been crying for quite a while, and you're going to need water-"
"Oh, just shut up!" Quinn snaps, but it's less than impressive because her voice is hoarse. Rachel keeps talking, and Quinn viciously unlocks the door and throws it open. "I said, SHUT UP!"
Rachel, Quinn is satisfied to see, does stop talking. But in exchange, she grabs Quinn's arm. She also takes her keys and locks her car. After, she drags Quinn away to the nearest bathroom and turns on the sink, despite her protests.
"You should wash your face," Rachel says quietly, and Quinn's a little surprised. She didn't know Rachel could be quiet. But she doesn't move, and Rachel lets out a frustrated sigh. She grabs some paper towels and wets them, and then she helps Quinn clean up. Honestly, though, Quinn doesn't really care-the one physical thing she wants to get rid of won't go away because of some wet towels. And frankly, her soul's probably too dirty for them.
After Rachel's finished, she hands Quinn a water bottle. She guzzles it down thirstily, all the while aware of Rachel's unfaltering gaze. She knows what's coming next, and she dreads it.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Rachel begins. "I've heard it said that if one confides into another their problems, the weight becomes so much lighter-"
"No," Quinn interrupts. Her voice is still raspy. "I don't want to talk about it."
"But," Rachel presses, "it's better not to keep that kind of emotional pain inside. I can help-"
Quinn laughs at this, and it's such a bitter, ugly sound that she surprises herself. Rachel falls silent.
"You? Help me? What can you do?" Quinn's angry now. "Can you teach me how not to be a failure? I don't think you're exactly the right person to ask when it comes to that."
"Quinn…"
"Or do you think you can show me how not to be an embarrassment? Oh, no, that doesn't seem to work out for you either!"
"Quinn."
"The only thing you could possibly help me with is showing me how to have safe sex, and it's a bit too late for that!"
"Quinn!" Rachel shouts. "Stop!" Quinn does stop, but she also averts her gaze from Rachel's face, choosing instead to stare at the mirror. Her reflection stares back at her; disheveled and puffy-eyed, in a too big sweatshirt. So that's what failure looks like.
"Quinn…who told you that you were a failure?" Rachel asks softly. "Quinn?" She doesn't say anything.
"Who said that you were an embarrassment? Was it Karofsky? Quinn, look at me." When she doesn't, Rachel cradles her face in her hands and forces her to. She finds herself staring into intense brown eyes, and she can't-she can't look in them for long. She feels like if she does, she'll end up spilling everything and she wants to keep her pain to herself.
"Tell me, Quinn." Rachel commands, "Tell me who said that to you." God, Quinn thinks to herself, I'm crying again. Why can't I stop? She feels so pathetic, and even more so when she responds in a small, shaky voice that sounds nothing like her own.
"My daddy said it, Rachel." She whispers. "He told me it was too hard. I tried to say sorry, but it was too hard for him." She can't believe she was all cried out five minutes ago, and all it takes is one thought of it and she's ready to go again. "I couldn't be a good girl for him. I got pregnant and ruined everything." Rachel's staring at her now, and all Quinn can think of is the way her daddy stared at her. She tries to turn away, but Rachel won't let her.
"I said I was sorry, Rachel," she whimpers. "I said I was sorry. Do you think he'll ever forgive me?" Rachel hugs her tightly then, rubbing small circles on her back.
"It's not your fault, Quinn," she says, and Quinn wonders why Rachel is crying too. "It's not your fault."
They sit there, on the bathroom's tiled floor, crying their hearts out for two different people.
When Quinn is finally done, she feels exhausted. She knows for sure she's missed some classes, but she doesn't really care. She wants to get away right now, and she doesn't want to be near Rachel anymore. She can't look her in the eye. She's embarrassed.
Quinn really wants to get in her car and go home (not that she knows where that is anymore), but she has something to take care of. She pushes Rachel away gently and mutters some excuse about going to biology. Quinn tries to ignore the worried way the brunette is staring at her.
She wanders around the hallways a bit, because class is in session and she doesn't want to go. She knows she looks like a mess right now, but she needs to talk to him before she loses courage. She doesn't know what class he has now, though, so she's waiting for passing period. It's a miracle Principal Figgins hasn't found her.
When the bell finally rings, the halls are suddenly filled with teenagers. They don't part anymore when they see her, so Quinn is forced to push and shove her way through like everyone else.
"Sup, MILF!" A cocky voice calls, and suddenly Puck is in front of her. He takes in her appearance, one eyebrow raised. "What happened to you?"
"Nothing," she mutters, looking down self consciously. "Have you seen Finn?"
Puck's face immediately closes up. "No, I haven't. Why, need him to do some daddy duties for you?" He asks coldly.
"No," Quinn says, eyes firmly on the floor. "That's not why." Puck snorts.
"Whatever." He brushes past her without another word, and Quinn is once more lost in the sea of students.
The next people she meets are Santana and Brittany. The Latina looks her up and down, before giving her a greeting.
"Tubbers."
"Santana." Quinn responds, but she's too tired for this. "Have you seen Finn?" Santana narrows her eyes at the other girl.
"Maybe I have, maybe I haven't. Why does it matter?" Quinn sighs, and turns to Brittany instead.
"Brittany, have you seen Finn?" The taller girl smiles.
"Oh yeah, I saw him. He's kinda hard to miss." She laughs. "He's talking to Mr. Schue right now."
"Thanks." Quinn gives her a small smile, before turning to leave. Santana glares at Brittany, who smiles back innocently.
"Hey, Q! Just because you're pregnant doesn't mean you should let yourself go!" She shouts at Quinn's back. "I almost mistook you for a blow fish, what with the puffy eyes! Shape up!"
"That's S's way of saying she's worried about you!" Brittany says brightly. "Hey, I can be a translator. Santanaish is so much easier than Spanish!"
"…Don't even think about it, B."
Quinn wanders off towards the glee clubroom, barely thinking and just letting her feet follow the familiar path. She ignores the whispers and the funny looks. It doesn't matter.
She finds Finn and Mr. Schue chatting in the clubroom just like Brittany said. She knocks on the door frame to get their attention.
"Oh, hey Quinn!" Mr. Schue begins, smiling, but it slips a bit after he really looks at her. "How are you doing?"
"Mr. Schue was just hooking me up with a job," Finn tells her, smiling. "He says I can work at the same place his wife does." At the mention of Terri Schuester, Quinn winces. She'd forgotten about her.
"Hey, are you okay?" Mr. Schue asks, gazing at her with worried eyes. "You look like you've been crying." Well, Quinn tries to think optimistically, it'll be like killing two birds with one stone.
"No," she responds quietly, "I'm not okay. But that's not what I'm here to talk about." She takes a deep breath, steeling herself for the confession she's about to make.
"Finn…you don't have to get a job." He furrows his brow in confusion.
"I don't? But I promised I'd help pay for the medical bills and stuff. I mean, since I'm the dad-"
"That's just it, Finn. You're not the dad." Mr. Schue's eyes widen, but Finn still looks confused.
"How can that be?"
"Look, you don't need me here for this, it's obviously a private matter, so I'll just-"
"No, Mr. Schue, you have to stay. This is about you, too."
"What?" Finn asks, finally understanding. "I'm not the dad? But then…who…?" He just looks stunned for now, but Quinn knows he'll get mad soon enough.
"It's about Mr. Schue, too…" Finn's voice has gotten quieter. It's a bad sign. "Is Mr. Schue the dad?"
"NO!" Both of them shout at the same time. Mr. Schue looks flustered.
"I should go-"
"No!" Quinn snaps. "Stay." It's the most like her she's sounded all day, and Mr. Schue listens without thinking. "I didn't want to tell you this way, but…Puck's the dad, Finn. I had too many wine coolers, and he was there, and it just happened. I'm sorry."
"You…" He looks at her, betrayed. "How could-my best friend!-how could you do this to me?"
"I know," Quinn says, shoulders slumped, "I'm sorry. I'm…a horrible person." Finn stands stock still for a while, taking it all in, before turning on his heel and storming out of the room. Mr. Schue looks between her and the door, obviously shocked.
"Wow…I, uh, I understand if you need to skip Glee today, Quinn…"
"I was already planning on it." Quinn says bluntly.
"Then what did you need me here for?" Mr. Schue asks, bewildered. Quinn runs her hand through her hair, trying to calm down. It doesn't work.
"It's about your wife." She says, deciding to go at it as if it were a band aid. "She's not really pregnant."
"Wha…Terri? Yeah, she's pregnant; have you seen her stomach?"
"Have you?" Quinn responds. "And I mean without anything covering it. Well?"
"No…" Mr. Schue replies. "No, I-I haven't."
"Then how do you know?" Mr. Schue puts one hand on the piano, bracing himself.
"I-I think I need to sit down."
"Don't you want to know how I know?" Quinn continues, relentless. "It's not because we all have a pregnant people's meeting where we share our secrets or anything. It's because she wanted my baby. She wanted to pretend it was hers. That's how I know." Mr. Schue looks like he's about to be sick, and Quinn feels a little bad. But she just leaves him there and leaves the school. She gets into her car and drives off the campus, going anywhere.
She thought she was supposed to feel better after all the secrets were out in the open, but she doesn't. She just feels empty.
Quinn buys some fast food and sleeps in her car that night. Well, she tries to, anyways. She spends most of the night looking up at the stars and waiting to see if she could find a shooting one. A wish would be pretty useful right about now.
She goes to school early again in the morning, but this time it's to change clothes. She takes some out from what she's got packed and pulls out another sweatshirt. Then she sneaks into the Cheerios' locker room to shower and change. It's a little weird, being there before everyone else, but she figures she should get used to it. This is her life, now.
When school does start, she goes through her classes numbly. Puck catches her during lunch, sporting a black eye.
"Hey," he says breathlessly. "You told Finn yesterday. I'm sorry I thought you were doing something else."
"Yeah," Quinn responds listlessly. "It's fine." She makes to move past him, but he blocks her with his arm.
"No, look, I'm sorry I was being an ass." He tells her seriously. "I was just tired of you choosing him over me all the time. But now that everyone knows, it's cool! I promise I'll be an awesome dad. My kid will be amazing; I swear." Quinn flinches.
"No. No," she says, shaking her head. "I'm not keeping her, Puck. I-I'm not ready to be a parent. Neither are you."
"Quinn, I'm ready!"
"No!" she shouts, ignoring the way people are beginning to stare. "I'm not ready, Puck! I don't want to go through with it and end up failing! I don't want my kid to be a failure!" She quiets down. "I don't want you to end up disappointed, Puck."
"I won't be, Quinn." Puck responds with conviction, but he doesn't understand. She needs to get away from him-Quinn bolts through the first opening in the crowds of people she can find.
"We'd be great at it, Quinn!" Puck yells at her. "You'll see! I'll wait for you!" She presses her hands to her ears, ignoring him. She's not ready; she may never be ready.
Mr. Schue's not there during Spanish. They have a sub instead, a balding old man wearing glasses. Quinn spends the period doodling in the margins of her notes instead of paying attention. When the class is finally over, she gets up to go back to her car. She needs to start thinking about getting a job and about saving money.
Tina and Mercedes catch her almost out of the building. They each grab an arm and steer her in a different direction.
"Where are you going, girl?" Mercedes asks.
"I'm leaving. Mr. Schue isn't here, so there's no glee club."
"I wonder what happened to him?" Tina says, but more for conversation than as an actual question. Quinn doesn't respond.
"We noticed you haven't been looking your best lately," Mercedes continues as they drag her along.
"No offense, Quinn, but you look really bad."
"Yeah. That's why you've been set up for an appointment with my boy, Kurt."
"Wait…What?"
"A makeover, Quinn. Kurt's gonna give you a makeover."
"I…appreciate the sentiment, but-"
"No buts, Quinn. The appointment's already been made; you can't just cancel at the last minute!"
"Who made it for me?" Quinn asks, but they're already shoving her into the clubroom.
"Can't tell you that; it's a secret!" Tina calls out, before they're shutting the door on her. Kurt's sitting on the floor with all sorts of bags around him. He smiles at her.
"Well, about time you got here! I've been waiting!"
"Uh…sorry." Quinn says, eying him suspiciously but coming closer nonetheless. "I wasn't aware I had an appointment at Salon e la Kurt." Kurt rolls his eyes at her.
"Just get over here." He growls playfully at her. "The longer you make me wait, the more tempted I am to make you look less like Barbie and more like that ratty old doll they have at the Salvation Army." Quinn sits down.
"We couldn't have done this in a bathroom?" she complains halfheartedly as he begins.
"I can't just waltz into the girl's bathroom, Quinn. I'm a guy, remember?"
"Oh…right." She doesn't mean to, but sometimes she forgets that Kurt isn't 'just one of the girls.' "Sorry."
"It's okay. I know I'm kind of effeminate."
"Kind of?" Quinn laughs softly. "Understatement." Kurt pulls on her hair. "Ow!" She glares at him, but he just grins back at her.
"Yeah." He says, still smiling. "But I can't help who I am. My dad never expected me to turn out like this." Quinn stiffens at his words, but works to keep her expression neutral.
"Oh?" she responds politely.
"Yeah. My dad's like the epitome of a man. He's an auto mechanic, for Christ's sake. I bet he never thought he'd have such a girly son." Kurt laughs. "It was probably hard for him."
Quinn doesn't say anything. She wishes he were done already.
"But, you know…he was willing to work with me. He didn't try to change me or anything. Even though I didn't turn out how he wanted me…he loves me anyways. That's what parents are supposed to do."
"When we are born into this world…we don't know anything. We can't do anything for ourselves. But we have our parents there to take care of us. They show us the different paths we can take, and sometimes they don't agree with the one we pick. But they stand by us anyways, and they try their best to pick us up when we fall because they love us. My dad does that for me. He doesn't really understand why I'm like this, but he does his best to support me anyways."
"They aren't allowed to just abandon us when they think it's too tough. They're not supposed to stop caring about us. A parent's love isn't supposed to be conditional. They're not allowed to try it when it suits them and give up when it doesn't. That's not what a parent's supposed to do, Quinn."
Kurt smiles sadly at her and holds up a mirror. He managed to cover up the dark circles under her eyes and darken her skin complexion a bit, so she wasn't so pale. She stares at her reflection.
"You didn't fail anyone, Quinn. No one blames you for anything; no one has any right to blame you for anything. Your dad just wasn't being a parent, and you shouldn't take anything he says about you seriously. So you're not what he wanted you to be-so what! If you were, you wouldn't be you. And the person that I took the time to do this for isn't some fantasy girl, it's Quinn Fabray. The real Quinn Fabray." He drops the mirror abruptly and digs around his bags for some tissue.
"Oh, don't cry…you're ruining all my hard work!" Kurt says, but he's not being serious. He's smiling and wiping her tears as she clutches his shirtsleeve like a lifeline.
"Thank you." She cries. "Thank you. How did you know?"
"Rachel told me," he replies. "She's the one who asked me to do this for you." He holds her for a while, then untangles himself from her.
"You should go thank her," Kurt tells her. "She's waiting for you, I think." Quinn nods tearfully, and thanks him again and again until he shoos her away.
Quinn has no idea where to find Rachel. She wanders around a bit, and finds herself heading towards her car. Maybe she already left? If so, there was really no point in staying around, and she'd be able to see Rachel tomorrow anyways.
Only, Rachel is still there, sitting on the roof of Quinn's car. She's staring up at the sky, and Quinn pauses a bit, wondering what she's thinking. It's almost surreal, seeing Rachel sitting on her car as the sun sets behind her. Everything looks orange, which also makes her think they must've slipped into an alternate universe or something. She coughs and Rachel turns her head to face her, but Quinn can't see her expression through the glare of the sun.
"Hey," Quinn greets her nervously.
"Hey," Rachel responds, still scrutinizing her. It's unsettling, not being able to see her face.
"Kurt told me…that you told him to do that for me," Quinn says. "Thank you."
"I couldn't let you keep going around with those kinds of misconceptions in your head," Rachel explains. "And I promised I would help."
"Yeah…you did." Rachel's head tilts a bit.
"I'm not done helping." She tells her. "There's one more thing I've yet to do." She jumps clumsily off the car, making a rough landing, before walking towards Quinn. Now that she's out of the sun and in the shadow of the car, Quinn can finally see her face. She's smiling.
"How about you come live with me?" Rachel asks, but it's not really a question.
"W-what?"
"I've already talked to my parents about it, and they've agreed that you're in dire need of a proper nurturing environment."
"Look, I really appreciate what you've done for me already, I don't think-"
"Quinn." Rachel interrupts. "It won't be that strenuous. Unless you would rather live in your car?"
"Well, no, but…"
"I want to start over," Rachel says. "I want us to be friends. I know it will probably be hard, since we have a long history of antagonism, but I think if we try, it'll be worth it. Unless," and here the girl looks a little unsure. "if you are that adamant against becoming my friend, I suppose I could make other arrangements."
"…No, I think it'll be fine," Quinn smiles. It might be a bit petty, but she's glad she got to see Rachel a little vulnerable after the other girl saw her in her weakest moments. It evens them out a bit. "I don't really mind, or anything. I just didn't want to inconvenience you or your family."
"Quinn," Rachel responds, "you won't be a burden. We'd all love to have you. Especially since," she beams, "you're my friend now."
"Yeah," Quinn laughs. "I bet being your friend will be quite an adventure." Quinn smiles at Rachel, and while the event is not the earth shattering apocalyptic thing she had imagined it to be, it definitely signified the end of her old life and the beginning of a new one.
Author's Rant: I wanted to write a complete story without making it a bazillion chapters, and that brought along this. Okay, it was kinda an experiment. And I feel like I rushed a few times and at points it got really cheesy. Whatever, right? At least I finished it.
Quinn is like, my favorite character, so I like writing Quinn centric stuff. That's also why I wrote this. Anyways, I hope that I at least managed to make all the characters believable. Also, I don't have a beta so there are probably a ton of mistakes. And I'm really tired, so my writing probably suffered because of that. I hope you manage to find some enjoyment out of it anyways. And I'm going to sleep.
Comment, Review, Whatever!