"Please be nice" Rachel begged. "This is a big deal to all of us."
"I'm always nice" Quinn said and looked pointedly out of the airplane window.
Below her was the great city of New York, the greatest place in the world, which she was leaving for the first time in years. It almost tugged at her heart when she thought of it. She was heading for unsafe turf.
"You know what I mean" Rachel sighed.
"Who is this is a big deal for?" Santana asked, scoffing. "It's a ten year High School reunion. Nobody in their right mind should care."
"And still you are coming with us."
"I got the week off" Santana shrugged.
"You realize that a week is too much time for reunion" Quinn said for maybe the eighth time. "You're supposed to say hi, eat a hamburger, get drunk and then make out with someone you will later regret even touching. Then you go back to your old life. That's how it works."
"No" Rachel corrected her. "That's how it normally works. We are not normal. We are special. All of us. That's why I prepared all of this. A week at my parents' lake house is barely enough time for us to make up for all lost time, but it's what we have to work with."
Quinn sighed. She wondered why she had let Rachel talk her into joining this stupid parade of nostalgia. Santana was right; people who went to (or even worse planned) High School reunions were the people who had been in their prime during their teens. Quinn's prime was now. Actually, so was Rachel's, which made it even stranger that she had spent almost a year organizing this thing.
"How many are actually coming?" she asked. "You remember that you weren't the most popular kid in High School, right?"
Rachel took no offense. She picked up her small container of moisturizer and she covered her hands in the light pink liquid before answering.
"I must admit that most people did not even RSVP. Very rude. However, most of our fellow Glee members are coming. The three of us, Mercedes, Mike, Brittany, Puck and Kurt, of course. Tina, Sam and Artie too, even though they strictly did not graduate with us, I felt like my High School years would not have been the same without them."
Puck. Quinn sighed. Of course he was coming. He probably had nothing better to do than to take a week of work to do trust exercises with his old buddies. She had had to beg for a leave, her first in three years. Her boss had agreed to it finally, but only if she kept her phone on at all times. Quinn had promised and hoped that the lake house would have reception.
"Mr. Shue is coming down too" Rachel went on. "But only for the weekend."
"Mr. Shue? God, how pathetic is he" Santana drawled.
"He loves us very much."
Santana snickered. Quinn sighed again. She regretted this already. Maybe she could excuse herself after two days, blame a work crisis or something, and fly back home. To Henry and their apartment and only spending people who actually mattered in her life.
"It'll be fun" Rachel promised. "I swear. Everyone is very excited."
"I think that's the problem" Quinn mumbled.
…
Puck slammed the car door shut and leaned against it for a minute while taking in the huge lake house. Sure, the Berry's were loaded, he had always known that, but this? The big wooden villa lay on the lake shore, far away from any neighbors. Puck wondered if there was a reason for the secluded location; if Hiram and Leroy had secrets that they could not act on in Lima, in fear of being excluded from the community. He didn't care though. He was just pleased to get out of Detroit for a week. He actually felt healthier just breathing in the fresh air.
"Noah!"
He jumped and turned around to see Rachel Berry was running towards him, a big grin on her face and waving frantically.
"Hey" he called back.
She hugged him tightly and he hugged her back. He hadn't seen her in years, apart from on the ads for the Broadway shows she starred in and the Tony acceptance speech he had watched on Youtube. She looked the same, older and maybe a bit graver after Finn's death, something she always managed to hide in the commercials.
"How are you?" she asked. "How was the drive?"
"Long" he laughed. "I'm fine. How are you?"
"I'm so happy. Come on, take your stuff in. I'll show you your room. You'll be sharing with Sam and Mike. Hope that's okay."
"Sure thing."
He took his bag from the trunk and locked the car behind him. Rachel almost jogged next to him as they walked on the small path to the house.
"This is one hell of house" he said.
"Yeah" she said. "My dads' always dreamed of one like this. When I got my first really big paycheck, I could finally give it to them. I mean, we still had to take a loan, but you know."
They stepped inside. The kitchen and living room together made a big, airy room with a fire burning in the corner. In front of it sat Santana, painting her nails red and reading a magazine. She turned around at the sound of the door and waved lazily.
"You okay, Puckerman?" she called.
"You know it."
She smiled. Santana was the only one he still met occasionally. She was also the one who had convinced him to come to the reunion, frankly by threatening his life. She had made it clear that she did not want to do it alone and thereby, he would have to come too. He hadn't put up much of a fight. In contrast to Santana, he didn't see a week by a lake as a punishment.
"Your room is up the stairs, it's the one on the right. Sam and Mike haven't gotten here yet so you get to pick beds. Or more like bed or inflatable mattress" Rachel told him as she pressed an opened beer into his hand.
"Lucky me" he said and made his way up the staircase.
This wouldn't be that bad. Santana was here and Rachel seemed happy and Sam was coming too. There was nothing wrong with meeting up with some old friends, drinking beer and thinking back to old times.
"Hello."
He looked up. She stood in front of him. Eight or nine years older. Still blonde and slim and beautiful. Her hair was shorter and she wore glasses and a strict pencil skirt.
"Hi Quinn" he said.
"Hello" she said again.
He had guessed that she might be here, even though Santana always complained about that all she ever did was work and work and work. He had prepared for seeing her again and still it did not help. He felt equal attraction and dislike. She didn't run up and give him a huge like Rachel had. She passed him on the stairs without another word. He looked after her. She was not going to ruin this for him, he decided, and took a swig of his beer.
…
When he came back down the stairs the girls were making lunch. Soft jazz was playing quietly as they crowded in the kitchen, chopping and stewing and whatever.
"Puck! Great. You can slice the tomatoes" Rachel said, taking the empty beer from him and replacing it with a big knife.
"Sure" he said,
"Move over, Quinn" Rachel told her. "We can make space for one more."
Quinn moved over a few inches but she was still close. If he stretched out his elbow, it would touch hers. He kept his arms closed to his sides as Rachel placed a bag of tomatoes in front of him. He sliced them carefully, keeping all his attention on not cutting himself with the knife that he suspected should really be used for carving meat. It had been eight years since he had last seen her in person and still he felt exactly the same about her; irritation, annoyance and maybe most of all, frustration. But also other things, things he had repressed for ages and was going to keep repressing for everyone's well-being.
"Hey, Rach" he called. "I saw your review in the New York Times on your show. How does it feel to be the the star of Broadway?"
She giggled and almost blushed and if she had done this in High School he might have rolled his eyes at this, but he was older now and wiser and she deserved to be happy. After Finn died, she wasn't happy for a very long time.
"Don't get her started" Santana said, but without edge to her voice.
They had all gotten nicer. Everyone except Quinn, perhaps.
"What about you, Noah?" Rachel asked. "You live in Detroit?"
"Yeah" he said. "Came back from the army without any real career options so went back to Burt's shop and then he sold it but knew some guy how had worked at a car factory in Detroit who had opened a new shop there and… Well, it's not that interesting."
"Of course it is" Rachel said.
"Nah. It's not Broadway."
"Not everyone wants to be on Broadway" Quinn said.
Puck couldn't tell if she was on his side or if she was just stating a fact. Her hair was covering her face.
"And I'm very happy for it" Rachel agreed.
Puck went back to slicing. Quinn mixed something. Santana poured wine into a large pan. Rachel went over to open the huge patio doors. Puck wondered if he was supposed to say something, to get conversation going, but he couldn't think of what. Santana drank lazily from the bottle while Rachel set the table outside and winked at Puck when he noticed.
"When are the others coming?" he asked.
"Any minute" she replied. "Wouldn't have thought you were going to be the first one. Have you changed that much?"
He laughed.
"No. Just couldn't wait to get away."
He thought he saw Quinn raise her eyebrows but she didn't say anything. She just kept mixing and he watched her hands doing it. He hadn't seen her in eight years. Or nine. It wasn't that strange that he couldn't stop looking at her.
"I see a car" Rachel almost screaming, running back into the house.
Santana discreetly put the wine bottle down on the counter.
"It's Tina and Mike, I think" Quinn said, peering out the window.
Puck sighed with relief. The more the merrier, he thought, or the more the less awkward.
…
"Are you going to be okay with this?" Santana asked, cornering her after lunch so that her back was pressed against the wall.
"Yes."
"You haven't said a word since he arrived."
"That's not true."
"It's been like eight years ."
"I know."
Quinn leaned back against the wooden logs that were glued to walls to give it an authentic feel. Money clearly didn't equal taste, she thought and then hated herself for thinking it. She hated being this elitist.
"It's weird that neither of you have ever explained what happened" Santana said, staring her down with dark eyes.
"Like you said, it was years ago. Doesn't matter."
"Then why don't you even look at him?"
"Shut up" Quinn snapped.
"And why does he seem to not be able to stop looking at you?"
Quinn elbowed her way passed her friend, into the kitchen and the safety of stacking dishes into the dishwasher. Sam was doing some impression and she pretended to get it and laugh. Her work kept her from watching TV or going to the movies or anything really, and pop culture references were now something she didn't understand. Henry always told her that it was one of the best things about her, how she didn't care about celebrities or gossip.
"More wine?" Rachel offered her.
She took the glass of red wine and downed it in one gulp. The grape was too sour. Henry would have spat it out and told Rachel so, but Quinn didn't. It was just wine.
"Let's go for a swim" Mike suggested and minutes later he, Tina, Puck, Brittany and Santana were all in the water.
Quinn filled up her glass of wine and stepped out on sandy beach with her shoes off. It wasn't New York but it was pretty nonetheless. The sun was setting over the trees on the bank across the water and she had to shade her eyes with one hand. Brittany screamed in glee as Sam dragged her underwater. Quinn felt older than them. Too old. Working at a law firm with only men in then fifties and then going home to her boyfriend who was a psychology professor also in his fifties had made in impact on her.
"I love this view" Rachel said, sidling up next to her. "I could look at it forever."
Quinn nodded. She averted her eyes from the beauty of the water and instead studied her former friends in it. Their bodies looked sleek and soft in the evening light. Puck stood with the back to her. He threw his head back and laughed. She closed her eyes and felt her phone buzz in her blazer pocket. She picked up and answered. Mr. Lewis's voice evoked something in her that made her stand up straighter and speak formally; it was almost like a Pavlov reflex.
"Yes" she said. "Yes, I'm here."
She turned and walked away from the loud screams and laughs from the water.
…
When she came back, almost twenty minutes later, they were all still in the water. Despite that it was only May and despite that the sun had set. Rachel had joined them, splashing around in a tiny, white bikini. Brittany was doing handstands where the water was shallow. Her legs extended endlessly towards the dark sky.
"Hey, Q" Santana called. "Come in, get in."
Quinn shook her head.
"It's freezing."
"How do you know?" Sam called to her. "You haven't tried it."
He came stumbling out of the water, blonde and gorgeous and she could remember why she had let him love for her months. She hadn't seen or spoken with him in maybe three years, not since he had come to New York to see Rachel in whatever show she was in back then. She remembered that he had said something about getting married. He wasn't wearing a ring so maybe she was remembering it wrong. She couldn't even recall where he lived now or what he did for a living.
"Please don't touch me with those wet hands" she warned him.
He grinned at her and lifted her off her feet. She shrieked and screamed and kicked. She thought of her expensive blouse and Karen Miller skirt and most importantly of her phone. In the last second, she managed to find it and through it onto the sand before Sam plummeted into the cold water.
"Let me down" she told him and he let go.
She fell from his arms, below the surface and felt her head freeze with shock. Why anyone chose to swim voluntarily in ice cold lake water, she did not understand. When she broke the surface, she wanted to slap him. They weren't kids anymore, it wasn't fun to ruin someone's clothes. But she didn't say anything because Puck was watching and she knew didn't want to make a scene.
"I'll get you back for that" she threatened Sam.
He grinned.
"Nice bra."
She looked down. Her sheer blouse had become completely see-through. Sam giggled at the sight of her underwear. Her first thought was the he was being childish. He was almost thirty, he must have seen girls in their bras before, hell, he had seen her in her bra before.
"Don't be ashamed of your boobs, Q" Santana told her.
"Believe me, I'm not" she said tersely, even if she kind of was.
She hadn't met these people in years and the first impression she was giving off was showing a bit more than she had intended. But then again, who cared? She sighed loudly. The skirt she wore felt heavy and constricted now that it was filled with water. She headed for the beach again.
"Come on" Brittany said. "Don't get up. Me and San want to do our old cheerleading routine and she says she's that you're too stiff to do it."
"She's probably right" Quinn agreed.
There was no way she would be able to do jumps or splits in a pencil skirt anyway. She carried on up the beach until she found her phone. It looked fine. Thank god she had been able to save or Mr. Lewis would have fired her.
"Let her go" she heard Santana say. "Give her a few days to adjust back to being a real person."
"What is that supposed to mean?" she asked.
Santana didn't reply and Quinn suddenly wanted to go home.
…
"She's been like this for ages" Santana complained as they sat on the patio, smoking a cigarette each, both wrapped in big towels.
"Then why do you keep being friends with her?" he asked.
"She's a good person."
He actually laughed.
"Is that your reason? Priests are good people. Doctors, maybe. She's not."
"Shut up."
"I'm just telling you the truth."
"She's not that bad and you know it."
He raised his eyebrows. They were waiting to take a shower. The house was great in many ways but it only had two bathrooms so they had to wait until Brittany, Sam and the others were done before they could stop shivering like mad. The swim had seemed like a good idea before they had to sit outside and freeze for an hour.
"I think it's her boyfriend. I never liked him."
"Isn't he like fifty years old?"
"Yeah, something like that. I only met him once, at her college graduation."
"Maybe she likes to be bored out of her mind."
"God, Puck, what did she do to you that made you hate her so much?" she asked.
"I don't hate her" Puck replied, but sometimes he thought that he did.
Santana sniggered.
"I'm actually surprised she even agreed to come. She never says yes to anything. Not even a movie or a drink or anything. She didn't even see Rachel in Rent."
"It's difficult to say no to you" he said, nudging her side.
She laughed.
"I'm glad you're here" she said. "Most of these people are completely mad."
"No" he said. "They're normal. You're the one who is used to crazy New York people."
"Why are you still in Detroit?" she asked. "Don't you hate it?"
"I don't hate it" he disagreed, but sometimes he thought that he did hate that too.
"New York has everything. And there are a lot of cars. I bet they need a mechanic."
He shrugged.
"I can't just pack up and leave."
"Why not? What's keeping you there? A girlfriend you haven't told me about?"
"No, not really. Maybe. I don't know."
He thought of Cindy. She lived next door and regularly she knocked on his door with a pan of something almost edible and they'd have sex on the couch. She wanted more, he knew it, but he didn't. Being with her would be like settling. He had settled on everything else, the city he lived in, where he worked, who he was. One more thing and he would have to reevaluate his entire life.
"A shower is available" Quinn said, standing in the door way.
She was wearing slacks and had her hair down. She immediately looked five years younger and five times as beautiful. It wasn't fair.
"I'll take it. I'm freezing my ass off" Santana hurried to say and left.
Quinn was still hovering in the entrance.
"Rachel wonders if you can manage the grill" she said.
Her voice was perfectly even. She sounded like a robot. Or a lawyer. Even if she wasn't any of those things.
"Sure" he replied.
She nodded and left. He watched her go. If she had showed any inclination to make up, he would have made an effort to try. However, she hadn't and wouldn't and for once, he wanted her to be the one to take the first step.
…
Five minutes into dinner, Quinn realized that she knew nothing about her old friends. Literally, nothing. All they all seemed to know things about each other, seemed to have kept in touch over the years, despite distance and school and starting families. She felt like the odd one out.
"Let's all recap our lives" she said and tried force the desperation out of her voice.
It was hard to start a conversation with someone when you had no idea where they lived or if they were married or whatever.
"You start then" Sam said.
"Okay" she said slowly. "I'm a paralegal at Lewis & Stroke. In New York City."
She examined their faces. In lawyer circles, when she said that she worked at Lewis & Stroke, she would receive raised eyebrows or some kind of praise. Here, however, she got nothing. They had no interest in prestigious law firms.
"What happened to the acting thing?" Mike asked.
"I switched majors. I… I realized that it wasn't really a reliable career option."
She saw Santana and Rachel exchange a look. She wasn't criticizing their decisions to become performers but they couldn't argue the fact that they made less money than she did and faced a ton more disappointments.
"What about that boyfriend of yours?" Puck asked. "Or can you say boyfriend about a middle aged man?"
She flinched at the sound of his voice. She thought they were going to be civil to each other. Cold, but civil. She had counted on it. That was how she had planned on surviving this week.
"Yes, I have a partner" she said, the word that Henry used for her. "We met at Yale."
"Wasn't he your professor?" Puck asked.
His cheeks were flushed. Maybe he was drunk. Or maybe he just hated her. She didn't care. She had been mistaken for Henry's daughter too many times to be humiliated.
"Yes" she said, her voice steady and calm. "Yes, he was."
"Sexy" Brittany giggled.
"He got another job at Colombia right around the time I left Yale, so I moved with him to New York."
"So, you've been with him for like? Ten years?" Tina asked.
She thought about it. The first three years didn't count. He had still been married then. She had been an affair, a girl on the side, something she was sure he had had before her. It wasn't until her senior year was ending that he told her that he and Mary were getting a divorce and that he planned for Quinn to move with him to New York. She had been shocked at first because she had always seen their relationship as almost platonic, but with sex. She didn't love him and didn't think he loved her. Obviously, she had been wrong.
"Not really" she replied to Tina. "I guess we got together four years ago."
"Before that you were just the lover, right?" Puck asked her.
She chose to ignore him. If Henry had been here, he would have whispered the same thing in her ear. They were better than all these people, the ones who didn't understand.
"Four years is still a long time" Tina said, and clamped Mike's hand above the table. "We're soon at five."
"Married for two" he chimed in.
They went on to share their life story, like they didn't have two separate ones, but only one. They had both come back for Christmas during college and fell in love anew and now they had a three year old who was spending the week with Tina's mom. It was the first time they were spending that much time away from their daughter. Tina got weepy whilst explaining this.
"It's nice that there's still a couple among us" Rachel said softly and they all thought of Finn until Santana spilled wine all over herself.
…
"It's no use" she told him. "You can't me feel anything anymore. Not shame or humiliation. Nothing."
Her voice was low. This was the way she had spoken to girls on the cheerleading squad in High School. It scared them back then but it didn't scare Puck now. He smiled.
"Really? Nothing?"
"No."
"Then why did you feel like you had to tell me that?"
Most of the guests were still at the dinner table, laughing loudly. Puck had gone outside to make sure that the grill was properly turned off. Mr. and Mr. Berry would never forgive him if he ruined it. She had followed, willingly, just to tell him that she felt nothing.
"Just leave me alone" she snapped.
Probably it would have sounded more threatening if she was still wearing her power suit and eyeliner. In comfortable clothes and with no makeup, she just looked like Quinn Fabray. A girl like anyone else. An especially beautiful girl, of course. A girl who had broken his heart too many times to remember. Well, maybe it was scarier when she looked like this.
"Fine" he said.
"I didn't come here to fight."
"I think you did. Or you could have just have stayed inside with the others."
"I mean, here, to this reunion thing. I didn't come here to fight with you."
"Alright."
"Just behave for six more days and you'll never have to see me again."
"Sounds good to me."
She stood still for a second, watching him intently. He had a feeling that she was about to say something else, but she didn't. She bit her lip. He thought for umpteenth time that he wished that she wasn't that damned beautiful. That would have made his life so much easier.
"Okay" she said finally.
She went back inside. Puck took a deep breath and pretended to check the grill an extra time. He hadn't said this many words to her in years. Of course, when you met someone for the first time in a long time, everything was a first. He thought of Cindy, his long-legged neighbor who was taking in his mail this week. He thought of Cindy and hated that he couldn't remember what her face looked like. She had already faded from his memory.
…