You and Me
What do you see when you look into a mirror?
When I look into one, all I see are the reasons why no one will love me. I know that this sounds kinda harsh, but it's the truth.
I see me. I have a small facial deformity. My mouth slightly hangs open. I can't close it all entirely like the average person can. I had one surgery to correct this, but the after effects were too much to handle. Overall, my face stays the same. Along with this I have a speech impediment. Almost every year of school I've had speech therapy. I even had speech therapy at my house after school and during the summers.
I've learned to adapt. Whenever someone has difficult understanding me, I either repeat what I said or write it down. I know right away when someone has difficulty. They stare at me like they in a trance. Other times they have a stupid expression on their faces. Pretty much most of the time, I put up with it, but other times, it like come on already. The good thing is that once people are in my presence over an extended period of time they catch on.
Oh, by the way, my name is Rachel Berry. Nice to meet you! I was born to Hiram and Leroy Berry through a surrogate that they hired. And guess what! I arrived totally healthy and with no defects. Damn the shot my pediatrician gave me when I was an infant. Yes, you heard me correctly. My life is the result of receiving a shot that all babies get when they are young. Aren't I lucky?!
Even I know my parents love me, I still yearn for that "special" kind of love…the love that I see my two fathers share. I guess this is why I've turned to writing. I was born to be a write; a poet to be more precise. I found my passion in writing poetry. I love trying to come up with rhymes and that grew into writing songs.
I remember a couple of months before my graduation from McKinley High School in Lima, Ohio I didn't really know what I wanted. That's not true, I knew I wanted to write, but I didn't know where to make that dream come true.
FLASHBACK:
I researched creative writing schools on the Internet and came up with the City College of New York, which offered an English degree and I thought that I could have a concentration in creative writing. I got the application and filled it out.
Wouldn't you know it, but a few weeks later, I received a "congratulations' letter in the mail. I was ecstatic!
"Dad, Daddy,' I screamed as I flew down the stairs.
"What?"
"So I've been thinking that I didn't really have a plan for after high school," I started the conversation.
They nodded their heads.
"I have been researching creative writing colleges. I think we can all agree that I have something special in my writing…poetry, to be specific."
Again they nodded their heads and smiled at me.
"So I found the City College of New York online, searched their entire website, and found that they offer a bachelor's degree in English. I'm hoping that I have a concentration in creative writing. I filled out the application and sent it in."
I began to unfold the paper that I brought down with me. I turned it around so my parents could see and said, 'I got accepted!"
"Oh," my Daddy said excitedly.
"And where is that?" my other Dad asked to be certain he heard me correctly.
"Um, in New York City," I said and looked up at them with the sweetest expression on my face before I said, "Please!"
"Ok, do you think you can handle this, Rachel?"
"Yes, Dad, I know I can. I love you both so much, but I need to venture out on my own and independent in a setting like a college campus and dorm," I said with conviction in my voice.
"Ok, you can accept the acceptance," my Daddy said.
FLASHBACK ENDS
After graduation we would drive from Ohio to New York City with all of my belongings and move me into the dorms. For the most part, my fellow classmates are nice and friendly after the initial shock off…well, me!
I am lucky enough to have my own room, but I won't be lonely. The people, for the most part, were friendly
Fast forward to that moment…
I am sitting in my "Songwriting – 101" class anxiously awaiting my professor to walk into the room. All of the other students are making chitchat with each other, but I am quiet. I look down at my desk and find that someone etched a heart into the wood. I smile at the sentiment. I think I hear my name being called so I raise my head and then I see her. She comes walking into the room so sure of herself and without any fear or anything. I am in a trance and utterly speechless. She is just gorgeous with her short blonde hair and piercing hazel eyes. She searches around the room, I guess, looking for an empty seat. Then she begins to walk closer and closer to me. Within two to three heartbeats she plops herself down in the only free seat. Right next to me!
Immediately my cheeks are red hot and my mouth becomes almost like the Sahara desert. I glance her way when she looks to her other side. She then whips her head back in my direction and I immediately stop gazing at her. I swear I could hear her giggle.
"Uh, hi," I start to say.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, please take your seats," the professor says as she frantically runs into the room.
Dammit! I think to myself.
I see her staring at me with a small grin.
"Welcome to 'Songwriting 101'! My name is Professor Wankee!" she says.
There is a smattering of snickers and some chuckles.
"Yes, yes, get it over with! I totally understand," she says and smiles.
The laughter dies down a few seconds later.
"Ok, now that that's over with, let me tell you what you'll be getting from this class…a fully written and performed song!"
I gaze at my professor in astonishment. This is definitely what I want the most.
"Ok, so that little bombshell is outta the way…here's another one…look to the person sitting next to you," Professor Wankee said, "Extend your hand and repeat after me, 'Hello, my name is, insert your name here…and we're writing a song together!'"
Since I am sitting next to a wall, I turn to my left and the most beautiful pair of hazel eyes are staring back at me. "Hello, my name is Rachel, and we're writing a song together!"
(It's good to point out that when I'm really nervous I tend to speak too quickly.)
"Whoa, slow down," she says kindly.
"My name is Rachel…" I repeat myself.
"Oh, hi, Rachel, I'm Quinn!"
"Wow!"
She looks at me funny.
Shit, did I say that out loud?
"Sorry, nice to meet you," I say and extend my hand out to her. She smiles very warmly and grasps my hand. Her skin is so soft and smooth.
C'mon Berry, pull it together!
"Nice to meet you," she says and then looks at me genuinely until our professor gets our attention again.
"So not to scare you totally, through out the semester you'll learn all of the technological jargon and formats for writing your song. You'll take the lessons you learn and turn it into a song, your final project in this course. Okay, I think I've shocked you enough for today…get outta here. Spend this week getting to know your co-writer and come in with at least ten musical influences. Peace!" Professor Wankee says and waves her hand at the class.
Some students rush out and some don't. Quinn looks at me and says, "I gotta go…I'll look for you around!" Then she gets up and walks away before I could say anything.
"Wow!" I whisper as she walks away from me.
I spend the rest of my day in a Quinn-induced haze. I am totally enamored with her and I hardly know her. I don't even know if she is a lesbian or not.
Oh, I am. I have come to terms with that when I was in high school. My parents, obviously, don't mind.
"As long as you're happy!" I remember them saying.
Anyway, I hope to see Quinn before our next class, but I don't know.
After my last class of the day, I opt not to go to the cafeteria for dinner. I go back to my dorm room and prepare my dinner. As I'm about to fork my first piece of lettuce from a large salad with a lot of vegetables in it, there's a knock on my door. It is closed because I prefer to eat in private.
"Someone order a pizza?" a fake manly voice yells from the hallway.
"Pizza?" I say with confusion in my voice since I didn't order the pizza. I get up and walk to the door and pull it open. In front of me stands Quinn with a large pizza box in her hands. She's standing in front of me with a wide grin on her face.
"Quinn," I say with surprise in my voice.
"Hi, Rachel…um, it's kinda hot," she says and holds up the box.
"Oh, yeah, sorry, come on in!" I say and allow her to come into my room. She gently throws the box onto my bed and takes off her sweatshirt. As she is doing that I can't help from not staring at her. She is wearing a pair of jeans that fit her perfectly and a black tee shirt under the sweatshirt.
'Hey, thanks for the pizza!" I say happily, "I was just going to have that salad over there." I point to it and she follows my finger and chuckles.
"Well, I think I got here in just enough time," she says and looks back with me with a small smile.
"Yeah, you did. Please have a seat," I say and watch her jump onto my bed. "Um, can I get you anything to drink?"
I open my mini refrigerator and pretend to be a model like on "The Price is Right" to show her what I have in there.
She chuckles and then says, "Can I have a Snapple?"
"You like raspberry Snapple?"
"More than life itself," she responds with a grin.
"Want a glass?" I say nervously with a smile.
"No need," Quinn says, opens the bottle, and takes a large gulp.
"Well, you can have one whenever you want," I say as I pull up the little curtain that hangs on my sink. She looks down and notices that I have a two 12 packs of Snapple on the floor.
"Awesome!" she yells and flings her arms up in the air with excitement. I quickly grab paper plates and hand her one. She flings open the box lid and tears a piece of pizza out. I moved my plate to the pizza in her hands.
"Yummy," I say and blush at my childishness.
"Enjoy!"
We eat in a comfortable silence except for moans of contentment and gulps of our drinks.
Afterwards we sit face to face. I'm sitting in my computer chair and she's still relaxing on my bed. It's the safest distance, I believe.
"So, Rachel, how old are you," Quinn asks me.
"Eighteen, you," I say slowly so she can understand me.
"Eighteen too," she says and smiles.
"Quinn…" I start to say.
"Rachel," she says in return.
"If there's ever a time that you don't understand what I said, please ask me to repeat myself. If you still don't get it, I'll write it down," I say. I want to make the other person feel as comfortable with me as possible. And it's not a problem.
"Oh, okay, cool! Thanks, Rach," she says and doesn't pick up on the nickname, but I do. "Can I ask you a kinda personal question?"
She reaches for her drink as I say, "Sure!"
"Is it hard," she asks and then takes a gulp of iced tea.
"Is what hard," I ask but know what she's talking about.
"Um, being…um," Quinn says and I can tell that she's at a loss for words.
"Quinn, it's okay. I am disabled, not handicapped, ugh, I hate that word."
"I know right. Just so you know, I don't see you as disabled…you're just you! Yeah, but is it hard?"
"Sometimes it is…sometimes it isn't…"
"Oh," she says and nods her head up and down.
"Want to hear a funny story," I ask.
"Sure!" she says with a smile and then sits with her back against my wall. She's looking at me straight in the eyes and intensely.
"So I was a toddler when this happened, but every time my Dads tell me they crack up!"
"Dads," Quinn asks and raises her eyebrows.
"Oh, yeah, that," I say and start to fidget. "Remind me to tell you about that."
She holds her thumb up in the air.
"Anyway, we were at the mall and I was in the stroller. Apparently there was this woman who was staring at me. Like hardcore staring. She walked into a poll and fell down," I say and laugh a little.
She starts to laugh hysterically. After a few seconds she catches her breath and says, "People suck sometimes!"
"Yeah they do. Listen, I'm all for kids staring at me because they're curious. But when grown adults, especially senior citizens, do it that's when it pisses me off, ya know?"
"Yeah, I hear ya. Ignorant people are stupid. They are really super quick to judge people on the outside without taking the time to actual get to know them. But, Rachel, you don't have to worry about that with me, okay?"
"Ok, Quinn," I say shyly. I don't know why, but for some reason I believe her. I know it's crazy, but I feel comfortable with her.
"I feel comfortable with you," I blurt out.
"Well, thank you," she says and shyly smiles.
"Ok, what's your story," I ask as I get another Snapple and offer her one.
"No, thanks…my story, huh?"
"Yup, you know a lot about me," I say, "I want to know more about you…if you feel comfortable. I want you to feel comfortable with me."
"Ah, that's nice of you. Well, hmm, my story is not too exciting. I come from a small town where everyone is in everyone else's business. It's hard to stay invisible when it comes to family issues."
"And you have family issues? Oh wait you don't have to answer that…" I say and slap my forehead.
"Rachel, it's alright. I want to tell you. So, my family was me, my older sister Frannie, my Mom and my Dad. We were the all-American, Christian family to everyone outside of our family…we weren't though. Long story, very short, my sister moved away and my parents divorced which was the best thing for all of us. I live with my Mom when I go home. I turned to writing as a catalyst for my feelings and emotions because I wasn't being heard at home. I think it turned out for the best, though. Tell me about your family," Quinn asks with genuine interest.
"Well, I mentioned that I have two fathers…they are Hiram and Leroy Berry. They've been married so long. They met in college. One is a lawyer and the other, um, is I guess a lawyer's wife…haha!"
"How did you come into the picture?" Quinn asks.
"Well, they hired a surrogate to have me. In high school, I was always upset that she didn't want me. Not because I had horrible parents, cuz I didn't, but I'd see girls with their mothers and I always thought about what I was missing, ya know?"
Quinn nods her head and asks, "May I ask another personal question?"
"Quinn it's okay, just ask,' I encourage.
"Were you, um…"
"Born this way," I ask and motion to my face.
"Yeah," she answers.
"No, I was healthy…"
"Then how?"
"I was the lucky recipient of a shot that every infant must have. During the time that we were infants the ratio was one out of a thousand who could get viral encephalitis, which is the medical term for what I had…it obviously shaped me. I turned to writing, at first, to communicate with people who didn't understand, but when I got into high school, I found it therapeutic to express myself."
"Wow! You're my hero," Quinn says to me with a genuine smile.
"Aww. It's just survival. I've been through a lot. And there's still a lot I have yet to go through," I say honestly.
I gravitate over to her and sit next to her on my bed. Not too close, but not too far. I let my hand lay on my bed and suddenly I feel hers on mine. We look at each other shyly.
I hold my gaze and look into her beautiful hazel eyes for as long as possible. She is simply stunning and I can't believe she is here.
Okay, Rachel, calm down. I tell myself.
"What do you have yet to go through?"
"Uhm, um, graduating college, being independent and successful…" I say and lower my head, "falling in love."
Before I know it her hand in under my chin and she raises it up so that our eyes meet again.
"Those are all great goals. I know you'll be able to achieve them. Look…you're on your way," Quinn says, hesitates and then asks, "Is this okay?"
I am in shock over her actions and kind words that I almost don't hear what she said.
I shake out of my shock and said, "Sure. I appreciate your kindness."
She lets go of my chin and somehow it feels cold. She smiles that smile at me.
I feel comfortable so I lay down on my bed with enough room for her. Surprisingly, she lies down next to me. We prop ourselves up to be able to look at each other.
"What are your goals?"
"Um, graduate, find a good job within the music business either singing or songwriting, and fall in love, too!" Quinn says.
"Wow! You sing?"
"You like saying, 'Wow!' don't you? Haha! Yes, I do," Quinn says and I blush.
"Quinn?"
"Yes, Rachel," she responds.
"I, um, need to tell you something. Something that I feel that you need and deserve to know, ya know, in case we become good friends. Cuz I like you…"
She is looking at me in silence. Her eyes are so beautiful and there's a sense of kindness, easiness, and acceptance in them.
"I'm gay," I say shyly, "I, um, have always been, but I realized it first in high school. I always felt attracted to girls a lot more than boys. I don't foresee this changing in my life."
She notices a piece of hair that falls in my eyes. She gently brushes it away with her fingers. She looks deeply into my eyes and says, "I'm gay too!"
I blink my eyes in shock.
Did I pass out for a second? Did she say she's gay too? Shit, say something.
"Uh, um, uh, um," I say and gulp, "You're gay too?"
She chuckles a little and then says, "Yup, that's one of the many reasons why my father left."
"Oh, I'm sorry," I say wholeheartedly.
"Don't be…I'm totally fine with it," Quinn says with a small smile.
She flips over onto her side and backs her body into mine. My arms instinctively wrap around her and pull her closer to me. With Quinn in my arms, I feel like I can do or say anything so I do.
"Are you seeing anyone?"
"Just you," she says, sighs happily, and grabs my hands, which are holding each other at her stomach. She squeezes them.
"Allow me to take you out on an 'official' date?" I ask nervously.
"Hehe. Are you nervous? Ya know I can tell!"
"Hey, you can't really blame me…" I laugh out loud.
"Why you nervous," she asks as she yawns.
"Well, I have a gorgeous woman and a fabulous person not only in my dorm room, but actually in my arms and she chose to be here!"
"Aww. That's heartwarming," she says, "I think I'm going to like writing this song with you!"
"Me too," I say and sigh.
Author's Note: This story is very AU and the character of Rachel is loosely based on me. This makes it the most honest story for me.
The college is an actual college in New York City. The class, "Songwriting – 101" is fictitious. I'll be writing this based on Internet research so if the information is not accurate, I apologize.
Originally, this was intended to be a one shot, but I don't want to make my followers and readers mad at the length of the story. I am not sure how many chapters this will be, but I hope you enjoy.
Please read & review. Even though some of the elements of the character of Rachel are majorly different than the actual character, I still would like to know your thoughts. Please be honest. I can handle criticism.