As I finished packing my bag I heard the door creak open. I won't ccall it my door; it never was a home for me, not really. Especially not after what happened. I turned around to find Finn leaning against the door frame, blocking my exit. He was looking at me inquisitively, never quite meeting my eye. He hadn't since Glee yesterday, when he found out about me and Puck.
"Where are you going?" He asks, "I said you could stay as long as you need to." I moved purposefully towards the door. He didn't budge. "You don't understand, Finn. I can't take it anymore." I yelled at him, angry that he didn't understand. "There's too much tension here. It's not good for the baby, or for me." I know I can't expect him to ever understand, not really. He moved, hesitantly, out of my way; slow to let go of what we had for so long, slow to accept that it was over.
I had no idea where I was going to go, but I knew where I could go until I decided. The only place where I truly felt safe. Glee club. Or rather, the practice room. I was hoping there would be no one there now; it was getting on towards 6 o' clock. I knew there was at least one fire exit with a broken lock, so I'd be able to get in.
As I drove towards the school, an image of myself sleeping on the cold, hard floor stuck in my head, I cursed the hormones that were causing tears to form in my eyes. When I got to school I noticed a few cars left in the car park and hoped that the lights would be out between the entrance and the practice room. I was in luck.
When I reached the practice room I found it empty, so I wandered in and dropped my bag on the floor next to the piano. I collapsed into a chair and started singing myself, trying to bring myself some comfort before the tears started to flow. It didn't work. As the tears began to flow faster, my singing died away into sobs. It was then that I heard footsteps coming towards me.
"Mr Schue? Why are you still here?" I manage, before the sobs burst out again. He stops beside me and pulls up a chair. I'd never noticed how he sat before, backwards with his arms resting on the chair's back. "I could ask you the same question." He replied softly, rubbing a hand tentatively up and down my back to try and comfort me. It worked, and the tears slowed a little. "But that's not important now. What's the matter? Did Finn throw you out?" He leaned over the chair and gave me an awkward, one arm hug. The sobs stopped and the tears ran silently down my cheeks. "No, Finn didn't throw me out. I left. There was too much tension and I couldn't take it anymore."
I looked up and saw that he understood, but I saw the concern in the set of his jaw and the furrow of his brow. For a while we just sat, silently, while I tried to regain control of my emotions. Then Mr Schue spoke up again. "I take it you need somewhere to say then?" I understood what he meant instantly.
Without thinking, I threw myself at Mr Schue, hugging him so tightly I was worried I might hurt him. "Thank you so much Mr Schue! I don't want to be a burden; I'll start looking for somewhere else as soon as I've finished my exams. I promise! Oh God, I'm not going to get you into trouble...am I?" I said, my concern instantly over writing the excitement I felt at not having to sleep on the floor.
"I think, because of your situation, it will be ok. But don't tell anyone, just in case. I wouldn't want you to get into anymore trouble." He said. With that he led me outside to the car park and told me to follow his car. When we reached the block of flats, I was so relieved to have somewhere warm to stay that I ran up all the stairs.
I shouldn't have done that. As soon as I stopped I felt the ache in my ankles, the throbbing of my pulse through my veins, the familiar stabbing pain in my lower back. Mr Schue opened the door for me and I automatically collapsed onto his sofa, feeling the relief instantly. "Are you ok Quinn?" He asked, sitting down next to me. I look up at him and nod. "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine Mr Schue. It's just where I ran up the stairs, I just need to rest for a minute then I'll be fine!"
He seemed unsure of whether I was just telling him that or whether it was true, but he stood up and made his way to the kitchen. "So, Quinn" he shouted, turning on the oven and opening the fridge. "What do you want for dinner?"