A/N: This is an attempt at writing in first person from Rachel's POV and oh holy crap, it was hard. I'm just brainstorming this story and this is a tentative first chapter to see how it goes. I will try to write each chapter from each girl's perspective. Reviews? Title ideas? for Now it'll be Come On Get Higher because it's the song I'm currently listening to. ;)
Chapter 1 - I Melt With You (Modern English [or the Jason Mraz cover])
I rush out of my Dance class, throwing a bag over my shoulder and grabbing my books that were on top of a bench near the window. Somehow, because of many months training, I was able to put my headphones on and press play on my music player. I keep pulling down my cut-off, oversized orange shirt down, even though I have a black tank top underneath. I feel sticky and my muscles are sore from the class but I have no time to shower today.
This morning, when I left my dorm room, I realized I had no food for breakfast. Usually I'm so anal about eating a good, healthy breakfast every morning, but not today. Today had the potential to be a great day and I was so excited to get on with it that I didn't even bother stopping by the cafeteria to get some food.
But right now I'm starving, so I'm skipping a shower between this class and next – World Civilizations – to hunt down some food around this campus. I'm practically jogging between buildings trying to find a vending machine. Apparently no building here has one because I've been to five already.
As I approach a building I've never even considered before, I see a blonde girl coming out through the double doors. She looks just as rushed as I feel and she's focused intently on a stack of papers in her hand. The way the sun is hitting her hair though makes her look like an angel. At first glance, she's beautiful. When I get closer, she's even more. I take off one of the ear buds and smile at her when she looks up. She averts my face as soon as she makes eye contact but then she looks back up to make sure I'm smiling at her and smiles back. Wow, her smile is blinding.
"Hey," I say, needing to start conversation with her because she's just about the prettiest girl I've ever seen.
She looks behind her on each side before narrowing her eyes at me questioning me. I smile at how adorable the action is because she must be really humble not to imagine I'm speaking to her. The entire world should want to speak to her. "Hi." She says and her voice takes me up to heaven and crashes me down back on earth with one simple word uttered.
We're still walking toward each other. We're only a few feet away but it seems like we've been on this journey for forever, me living my entire life just leading up to this point. I need to think of something quick to say to try to get her to speak to me some more. I don't want this to be stored in one of those moments where you only acknowledge someone who's walking your way out of politeness. So, I think of the first thing I can and act as if that was my intention all along. "Do you know if this building has any food?"
She stops walking to think, her – holy shit – her hazel eyes reflect the sunlight in a way that I swear will kill me if I stare any longer, so I focus on her hands instead. There. Hands shouldn't be that big of a problem. Except she takes her left hand and runs it through her short hair, and the way she does it is so graceful but yet so sexy that I can't help but want to do the same. And then I realize how her slender fingers flex slightly and – I shake my head. Stop being creepy. "Uh, no. Sorry."
Not even two feet away from each other, she looks at her watch, and smiles apologetically, as if it's her fault there's no food in there. "What about a vending machine?" And now we're so close we could touch each other if reached out. She looks like she has to keep going, though, and when I check my iPod for the time, so do I.
When she processes my question she smiles and nods, "yes! There's one if you take the hallway to the left." Our bodies pass each other and I smell a faint scent of – well I have no idea what it is, honestly, but it smells so good. I inhale after she's past me to try to memorize it but then it's gone and all it's left is her back to me.
"Thanks!" I call out after her. She barely turns her body around and waves her left hand, currently unoccupied. She shifts the papers to where she can hold them with both hands and goes back to reading whatever it is that's robbed her attention from me. "Damn." I mutter. No girl has ever had this effect on me. I just wanted her to notice me a bit longer. I scoff because I sound ridiculous in my own head and try to forget about the girl who made me forget there was a world for five full minutes. Our interaction had been short and sweet but it felt like it took hours.
I realize that there actually is food here! This is sort of a hangout spot and there's a small deli to the right of the door. Maybe she didn't see it? Or maybe she just lied to me and got away with it because of her beautiful face. So not fair. I find the damn vending machine anyway because I'm running out of time, but the entire time I'm supposed to be picking something to snack on I'm thinking of the way her dress looked, hugging her body in all the right spots but then flowing freely at the bottom. It had been white and she wore a red cardigan and brown cowgirl boots – hot. She looked adorable but at the same time there was something about her I couldn't quite place. Someone approaches me from behind, standing there waiting to use the machine next so I quickly make a decision, punch in the numbers, and pick up the chips. This will have to do.
I only make it to class on time because my professor is late. I usually sit near the center of the front row but since I'm so late, I have to walk toward the back of the class. I scan the room, looking for that girl, hoping that maybe she would be in here and I would've missed her before or something but she isn't. That would've been too easy and nothing in this life comes easy. I slump in my chair, grab my phone and send a text to my best friend.
Rachel: Just saw the prettiest girl ever. We need to find out who the hell she is because it might've been love at first sight.
Santana: Haha, Berry, Berry. Put out your fire. What did she look like?
Rachel: Like an angel.
Santana: OMG! I know exactly who you're talking about!
Rachel: REALLY?
Santana: Of course not! Obviously, I'm going to need more than that if you want me to help.
I think back at the moment my eyes first laid on her and re-visit every step I took toward her, past her, and every word exchanged between the two of us.
Rachel: she was taller than me. Short blonde hair and beautiful hazel eyes. High cheekbones, very nice body. The voice of an angel – soft spoken but with so much confidence. I don't know what else to tell you.
Santana: you do have a soft spot for damn blondies, don't you?
Rachel: so do you! Will you help me find out who she is though?
Santana: don't I always? Isn't that what we do? We see a hot chick, we tell each other, we find them, one of us bangs them, we forget about them.
Rachel: thanks! Shit. Professor is staring right at me. I'll call you after class so we can meet up for lunch.
Santana: I'll see you later.
I can't concentrate on the lecture at all because I'm still thinking about that gorgeous girl. If only I had a name? I wish I had asked for her name. That way if I ever saw her face again, I'd know what to call it. I can't keep referring to her as Beautiful Girl forever, can I? Well, I could but I don't know how she'd feel about that.
Class took way longer today, I swear. It's like the minutes of this day were dragging on and on just to torture me with sweet thoughts of Beautiful Girl's legs, where I could see them anyway. And those lips. I must've glanced at them a billion times while she was talking.
I call Santana right away when class ends. The professor is still saying goodbye when I put the phone to my ear and he sends me a death glare when I acknowledge Santana, "Hey, San."
"God, Berry. You know I hate it when people call me that."
"You let all your girlfriends call you that! Why can't I – I'm your best friend."
"Technically, you're my only friend – "
"Okay, that's just more reasons why it should be okay for me to call you San, you idiot."
"Kay, Midget. Where did you want to meet today? I have an hour break until my next class."
I'm so confident of where to go. I just want to take chances. Maybe Beautiful Girl would have gone back to that building. That was a possibility, right? "Let's meet at Building F."
"The Lounge?" Santana asks me skeptically. "Damn, Berry. How the hell did you get around there? Someone drag you? You know only the cheerleaders and jocks hang around there."
"I hadn't the slightest idea there was even such a place!" I'm quite defensive because I usually try not to get mixed up with the cheerleaders or jocks. In this university, there is a clear distinction between the cheerleaders (as the elite) and anyone who's not a cheerleader (the peasants). Us, theatre kids, we are treated the worst. Santana just hates cheerleaders in general because she used to be one and they weren't nice to her when she came out in high school. She shrugs it off nowadays and promises she doesn't care anymore but she does and I know it. I don't want her to think I'm hanging around with those people now. And, either way, even if I wanted to, they'd never accept me. But then something clicks in my head. "Wait! San!" I basically yell in her ear so she cusses at me, telling me to chill the fuck out, so I do and keep going. "Santana, if you say that The Lounge is where the cheerleaders hang out and I saw this girl coming out of The Lounge…" I trail off with an expectant tone wishing for her to complete my train of thought.
"She's a cheerleader." She says as dry as I've ever heard.
"What's the big deal?"
"She's a cheerleader, Rachel. No chance. No way she's ever going to be interested in you." Santana's harsh when she has to be but it's out of love. She does it to protect me and she didn't meant it personally, I just know.
"You never know. She was very nice and polite to me earlier today. She probably knows I don't belong at The Lounge," I say the name with as much posh as I can, "but she didn't care. She answered my questions and at a point I'm pretty sure she second-guessed herself about if I was actually speaking to her."
"Yeah, because you're you and you were – and probably still are – in your dance outfit. She was wondering what the hell an Arts kid would be doing around her territory."
"Oh, shut up. Just get there soon. I'll pay for lunch if it means you'll show up."
"I'll be there." Santana promises me. I squeal and make my way down the hallway of the History department until I'm out in the sunlight again. It's energy heats up my skin and it makes me feel alive. I hate being clustered in those damn classrooms. I understand that the theatre is usually a dark and closed off place but the adrenaline I get while performing is more than enough to liven up my body and keep me feeling alive.
When I get to the front of the F building, Santana's already there. She has her hair up in a ponytail and is wearing a green dress so tight and short that I'm sure I could see her underwear if I leaned back an inch. She looks hot and she knows it. Santana is one of the hottest girls I've ever met. She has tan skin with a golden glow to it and long dark hair. Her eyes are exotic and as dark as her hair. She has a beautiful mouth that has many boys and girls after her.
She and I have been best friends since our junior year of high school when some stuff went down in the glee club we both belong to. She was – like I previously mentioned – a cheerleader and in fact hated me for a long time before that year. I was the only person there for her when my stupid, asshole of an ex-boyfriend forced her to come out of the closet. Ever since then we've been inseparable. I love her to death and even though it's hard for her to admit it, she loves me too.
"Way to take for fucking ever, Berry." Is her way of greeting me, but I just ignore it and smile.
"Hi to you, too." I step in her comfort zone and hug her because with her you have to push these little displays of affection. She hugs me back even though she makes a groaning noise. "I haven't seen you in forever. Be nice to me, San."
"I saw you Sunday! It's only Tuesday and we live together."
"Regardless. It's only the second week of school back from break and I feel like I hardly see you anymore."
"Again, we saw each other Sunday. And,"she says with more emphasis, "we live together."
"We saw each other for two seconds at Kurt's 'Welcome Back' mixer but that was lame because then you left with some hot blonde girl and left me alone talking to Puckerman. You know I can't stand him. And living together doesn't count because we're never in our dorm room at the same time – I'm gone before you wake up and sleeping before you get home."
"Fine. I'm sorry, okay?" She sounds defensive but then her eyes soften and she barely smiles, tugging at my wrist, "Let's go inside and sit for the entire hour I have free, waiting to see if we spot that girl."
"Yes!" I jump into her arms again and she laughs so I kiss her on the cheek. "Thank you! Thank you! Let's go." She lets me drag her inside and I literally sit her down on a purple chair in the seating area of the deli I found out they had in there. "I'm going to get us some food! Don't move." I order and I leave her side to go figure out what they have to eat around here.
After lunch, I walked Santana to class and sat in the room, on a desk next to hers, talking. I'm done for the day so I'm not in a hurry to leave. We're talking when she comes in, and I stop my sentence halfway, causing Santana to look at the door. She laughs out loud, unabashedly, as if we're alone in the room. The girl looks up and makes eye contact with Santana and I can tell she's blushing, and then she looks at me. It takes her a minute but eventually she recognizes me and a shy smile takes over her lips.
"That's her." I whisper to Santana, still not shifting my gaze from where the blonde is walking. She sits on a desk by the wall, near the door and crosses her legs. She takes out a laptop and pretends to be focused on it.
Santana laughs again before snapping me out of it by pulling my shoulder to face her. "No." She says simply and I furrow my eyebrows because I don't understand.
"No what?"
"No you cannot go for Quinn Fabray."
I smile at the mention of her name and savor it in my lips, "Quinn Fabray. Quinn."
"Rachel! Did you miss what I just told you? No!" Santana is not smiling or laughing anymore. She's looking at me intently and she looks seriously concerned.
"Why not, Santana? Tell me why not." I command, crossing my arms over my chest and bringing my gaze back to that Beautiful Girl. I catch her starting at me but then she looks away at her computer again.
"She's fuckin' Quinn Fabray," Santana starts, noticing our little exchange and scoffing. "She's the head cheerleader. She's impenetrable. She doesn't let anyone in. I've heard from others that she used to be the founder and president of her high school's celibacy club… none of her boyfriends were ever able to get her to put out…" She keeps talking but I've already stopped listening. For someone that used to be the president of a celibacy club she's been staring at me for way too long. I decide to ignore Santana and go for it anyway.
When I stand up, Santana grabs my wrist. "I'll just say 'hi,' okay? Stop this." I tell her with a pointed look at where her hand is in contact with my wrist.
I turn to face Quinn Fabray again, and when I do she's already looking at me with a raised eyebrow and it looks like she's trying to keep her face serious but I see a ghost of a smile threatening to take over her lips. I smile internally and come closer and closer. She turns her body toward me, welcoming my presence and crosses her right knee over her left leg when –
"Okay class. Let's go over the process –" The professor says and it breaks the spell we're under. She laughs under her breath and I cuss silently, stomping my foot without meaning to. Embarrassed by my little tantrum at being interrupted, I simply smile and walk out the door, turning around one last time to land my eyes on Santana, who looks worried.
I consider staying there until the end of class to see if I have the opportunity to talk to the girl but a phone call from a frantic Kurt has me rushing to the auditorium.
I step into the spacious room, searching for him in the dark. "Hello? Kurt?" I call out but there's no answer. I keep walking further inside, trying to see if he's still there. The phone call had been curt and desperate: Rachel, please, meet me in the auditorium. So I rushed here and now he's gone? Whatever. I exhaled loudly and turn about to leave when a cough grabs my attention. He's now sitting on the piano – how he got there without me noticing I'll never know – so I make my way over and sit next to him on the stool.
He's mindlessly playing the same key – middle C – over and over. It's driving me nuts but I don't know why he wants me here so I just sit and try to be as patient as I possibly can. After a long while of neither of us saying anything I snap. "Alright, Kurt. What the hell happened?"
It seems as this is what he's waiting for because the finger on the piano stops playing and his entire body sags into mine as he starts to cry. "I didn't get a callback for that play I really wanted to do. They said I wasn't masculine enough and it reminded me so much of high school when we did that West Side Story play –" I groan because I know exactly of which play he's talking about and I hate it because when I was supposed to help him, I made him feel worse.
I tighten my grip around him and let him cry all of his tears away. When he seems like he's calmed down a bit I smile trying to coerce him into doing the same. "They don't know what kind of talent they're missing. You're amazing, Kurt Hummel." He runs a hand over both eyes and nods.
"I'm so sorry for bothering you with this. It's so petty and stupid."
"No, it's not. You know that if I were you right now I'd probably be behaving the same way." I poke him on his arm and he groans and laughs at the same time. It's a ridiculous sound but it makes me laugh.
"I suppose you're right."
"I'm more than right and you know it."
Kurt has a pensive look on his face as he ponders over what I just told him before he speaks, "you know, Rach, I miss you."
I startle because that's not entirely what I'm expecting. I shrug and get up trying to ignore him.
He keeps talking anyway, "what happened to you? Why do you keep pretending you're someone you're not? I mean, you care about people and about your studies… or you used to. Now you're so closed off and you walk around screwing girls." His voice is not angry or irritated. He sounds confused and genuinely concerned for me.
If I'm being honest, I don't exactly know what happened. I just got tired of people running all over me and screwing me over while I was in high school and I lived in Lima that when I moved to New York for college, I vowed I'd never let someone do that to me again. Somehow, by my second semester in college, I was already so different than my old self (or I pretended to be) that Kurt had to call me out on it. But, I had decided – if anyone was going to break my heart, it'd be me.
The only person I ever talked about this before was Santana and I told her once when we were fighting because she had been one of the people that caused me so much hurt. After we fought, though, I apologized profusely. I baked her 'I'm Sorry' cookies and she made us dinner because she was always terribly sorry. I think this is the reason why she's so concerned about my wellbeing all the time, even though she tries to pretend she's not.
"Talk to me, Rachel. Because I was worried you changed so much beyond recognition that you wouldn't have been here for me but I know that deep down inside you're still Rachel Barbra Berry."
"Kurt. Just drop it, okay?" I beg of him. He looks at me with an expression that says he wants to talk more but he won't because I asked him not to. He nods his head once and dries his eyes once again before standing up and pulling his vest down.
"I have to go. I'm having coffee with that Blaine kid today again."
At this I smile without reserves, "good for you. You really deserve to be happy."
"Thanks, Rach." He smiles and drops his eyes to his shoes, "I hope you realize that so do you. No matter how others made you feel in the past." He turns around and leaves me there, thinking about his parting words.
Even after he's gone, I proceed to do a diva storm out. I'm angry at him for saying those things to me and I'm angry at myself for caring in the first place. Why can't I just not give a fuck and live? I
I end up outside of Santana's class anyway, waiting for her to come out because I don't know what else to do. I could go back to my dorm room and work on homework but I don't feel like doing that and I'm also hoping to catch a glimpse of Quinn Fabray – head cheerleader. That means she has to be at least a sophomore. Freshmen aren't allowed to be head cheerleaders here. How I've never noticed Quinn before I don't know. Maybe I had seen her with the uniform on and hadn't recognized her without it… that'll do. I take out my iPod and put my headphones in, find The Bitch of Living from Spring Awakening and lean my head backwards to rest it on the wall. I close my eyes just for a few minutes to rest while I wait for Santana.
I'm being awakened by someone's toes poking my shin. My eyes reluctantly open to a beautiful smile and a tilted blonde head. She looks amused to see me like this. I freak out, wondering if I have saliva all over my face, but when I check for drool and my hand comes back down dry, she laughs. I laugh along because the situation is funny, I suppose.
She says something and points at me but I can't hear her because my music is blasting, so I take off one of the headphones and prompt her again. "Sorry, what?"
"You're the girl from earlier today. Asking about food."
"Yes." I tell her with a smug smile, "and you are the girl who lied to me." I get up to face her, standing right in her comfort zone.
She takes a step back, outraged by my accusation, "what? When have I lied to you? We barely even spoke."
"You said there was no food in that building when there clearly is a deli." I point out, taking off the other headphone and wrapping them around my music player. I see Santana come out of the classroom with the corner of my eyes but I barely acknowledge her. She shakes her head when she notices who I'm talking to and takes off down the hallway.
"There wasn't – free food is only on Wednesdays and today's Thursday so you missed it by a day." She explains casually, as if that's exactly what happened.
I place my hands on my lips and narrow my eyes. I can't tell if she's a really good liar or if she's telling the truth. "I wasn't there for free food. Why would you think that?"
"That's generally the only time the Arts kids come by The Lounge." She shrugs and sits down, so I sit next to her.
I turn my head sideways to be able to look at her in the eyes when I ask, "How do you know I'm an Arts kid?"
"I've seen you around. I watched you perform in Midsummer's Night Dream last semester. You were amazing. People talked about you for weeks because you were an incoming freshman but apparently your talent is huge."
My cheeks heat up. I had no idea the head cheerleader knew who I was. I didn't even know who she was. Well, I stood by my theory and hoped that I only hadn't recognized her without her uniform on. I bite my lip before I offer my next thought, "I guess I owe you an apology then."
"That'd be nice." She says with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. "I'm Quinn Fabray, by the way." She extends her hand, expecting me to shake it, so I do because who am I to turn her hand down?
"I know." I tell her and she seems surprise for a second but then I assume she assumes I know because of her position and the surprised look vanishes. "Rachel Berry." Her shake is firm and I have the impression she has to shake many hands and when she does she has to be authoritative but right now it seems like she's so carefree.
"I know." She says it just like I had, and giggles. "So Rachel Berry, were you stalking me today?" She sits up, placing her hands on her knees and eyeing me carefully.
I laugh, hoping she's joking, because I hadn't been, right? Well, at first I had been looking for her, but seeing her in Santana's class was only a coincidence. "You wish." I mumble and she hums letting me know she heard me. She and I sit for a little while longer until she clears her throat.
"Well, I have to go. I have yet another class to make it to, so…" she gets up slowly and smiles when she's standing over me again. "It was nice to meet you, Rachel Berry."
"Uh, yeah, you, too." I throw at her when she turns around and walks down the hallway. She's clutching her books to her chest, hair bouncing back and forth, and the skirt of her dress dancing around her legs. I let my gaze stay on her butt until she rounds the corner and looks at me with a knowing but shy smile.
A few seconds later (I think) I remember I have functioning legs and I should've offered to walk her to class. I get up and run down the hallway she went, trying to see if I spot her. "Damn it." I mutter when I can't find her in the pool of people. "Smooth, Berry." I tell myself.
Santana appears a second later next to me, with a hand on my shoulder, "how did that go?"
"Where were you? Did you eavesdrop in our conversation? Were you stalking us?" I bombard her with questions because I'm annoyed at myself.
"Oh, come on, Berry. I was around but I wasn't listening in. I wanted to make sure you'd be okay."
I sigh, "Thanks, San. She was very nice. Not a snobby cheerleader like we had in our high school."
"You have to remember she might not be gay. I told you about her having boyfriends, never a girlfriend."
"There's always a first time, right? And maybe she's a spaghetti girl."
"Straight till wet!" Santana finishes for me with a smirk and gives me a high five. "Maybe. Just be careful, okay? A girl like Quinn Fabray won't put out for you just because you're really charming and have a hot bod."
I nod in agreement and then wonder if I'd even want to just fuck her and disappear. She doesn't seem like the kind of girl to do that to. I guess that no girl deserves that but I like to break their hearts before they break mine. I have a feeling that if anything happens with this Quinn girl, I'll fall fast and won't be able to stop myself. "I guess you're right. You told me not even bother with her and I did and now I want to talk to her again."
"Oh, this will not be good." Santana shakes her head and wraps an arm around my shoulder, pulling me in closer as we start walking back to our dorm, together for the first time in a long time. "Let's think of some way we can have you see again, okay?"
The next time I see Quinn, she doesn't see me at first. It's been a week but I haven't stopped looking for her everywhere I go. I haven't been able to walk Santana to class in a while because I got hung up with helping a girl in my dance class every day at around the same time she has that class. I hate myself for being such a perfectionist sometimes because I'd never have offered if I hadn't noticed that said girl sucked.
It's Wednesday and I remembered her talking about there being free food at The Lounge. I can't believe I didn't know about that for an entire semester – I would've saved so much money. I walk with purpose and confidence when I come in and just like Quinn said, I find myself in a mix of Arts kids and cheerleaders and jocks. I recognize a few faces: Blaine is there, with some girl I remember as Brittany, and her boyfriend Mike Chang. I also see Mercedes and Tina together; they're both in my Theatre I class. I smile at them and approach the two of them, "I had no idea this place had free food on Wednesdays."
I look over at a table packed with hot dog toppings and two people serving the actual hot dogs. "Oh, yes. The cheerleader's sponsors pay for it but the school says they have to serve it to the entire school. It's about the only time you'll see me in here." Mercedes says. She's eating a hot dog with ketchup and mustard.
Tina's only has relish on it and I quirk an eyebrow but ignore it. "Go get something to eat, Rach." She urges me, so I do. I drop my bag down beside their feet and walk over to the other end of the line. I smile and wave at Blaine as I walk there. He waves back and I can see him telling his friends about me.
I kind of feel self-conscious and out of place. I shuffle my feet and take out my iPod. I find a song and run my eyes around the room once more, looking for Quinn. The line shifts forward and then I see her sitting on an oversized purple bean bag, with her ankles crossed, laughing at something a guy is saying. I can't see his face, but I can see hers and she looks like she's having a lot of fun talking to him. I can't help but stare while waiting in line and listening to Skinny Genes by Eliza Doolittle.
Someone pokes me on the shoulder to make me move forward and it's my turn to grab a hot dog bun. I open it and wait for the person to speak, "pork or beef?" The guy asks, looking at me with a bored expression.
"Beef." I'm a good Jew so I still abide by my father's rules even though I don't live at home anymore.
He sticks the wiener in my bun and waves me off so the line can keep moving. I fix my hot dog with ketchup and onions before going back to Mercedes and Tina. I find myself looking back over my shoulder but Quinn has disappeared. My head sags as I approach them.
"What's up?" Tina asks when she notices my disappointed face.
I smile weakly, "Oh, nothing. I was hoping to run into someone here and talk but they're gone." I say as vague as I can. I don't care if they know I like girls, but I can't go around telling everyone I've been trying to get to the head cheerleader. That'd look bad for her, wouldn't it?
"Maybe we can help?" Tina offers.
"Yeah! Who is it?" Mercedes asks a little too excited.
I don't know how much I should tell them. I decide against it and take my first bite. "No one." I mumble, scanning the room again. The third time I do this, my eyes land on Quinn Fabray's eyes from across the room. She's coming out of an office and smiles as soon as we make eye contact. I can't help but mirror her smile. I check around me to make sure that she is indeed looking at me as she makes her way over, and when I realize that yes, yes she is, I put my plate down on the little table over to the side and make my way to her. We meet halfway.
"Hi!" She says with a smile that's so radiant I wonder if I'll need to keep glasses around her.
"Hey!" I look back quickly and notice Mercedes and Tina are staring at us. They look as if they know she's the person I've been talking about but I ignore it and turn back to look at her. "It seems you weren't lying. Free food." I try to make conversation.
She laughs, "Yes, free food. I'm glad you came today." She says as if this is some sort of party she put on and she had been expecting me to show up.
I say as serious as I can, "if you promise to be here every time, I'll show up."
Her eyes widen only slightly at my confession and I see her cheeks turning light pink. She looks coy for a long minute before she clears her throat and says, "Sounds like a deal then."
"Great!" My cheeks hurt from smiling so much. I rub my cheek with my palm and then look at my watch. I only have about twenty minutes before I have to go meet with my dance student, as I like to refer to her as. "Listen," I start to say but then I feel sort of weird with her looking at me so expectant. I divert my eyes and say, "it was really nice to run into you but I have to go."
She looks disappointed, "I understand. Seriously, though, I hope to see you around more."
"I'll be here next Wednesday." I promise and she nods. "I'll see you around." I wink before walking back to where Mercedes and Tina are standing and pick up my bag. "What?" I ask them when I'm standing up straight again with the bag slung across my chest.
They look dumbfounded, "That's Quinn Fabray." Mercedes whispers at me with a harsh, hurried tone.
"I know." I admit.
"She's head cheerleader, Rachel." Tina speaks next, concern taking over her eyes.
I sigh profoundly. This sounds just like the conversation I had with Santana. "I know that. So? She's very nice. You guys have got to get over the whole 'cheerleaders are bitches' stigma."
"I guess if that's how you feel, then…" Mercedes trails off, shrugging her shoulders and Tina looks down.
I say goodbye and leave them there, smiling and waving at Quinn once again before leaving. She was already talking to that blonde guy again but she seemed genuinely surprised that I took my time to acknowledge her.