She was in the second trimester of her pregnancy when they first met. At least, that's what the baby book she borrowed from the library told her. Her stomach was rounded to the point where she could rest a hand on the bump during the day to be more comfortable. People in the hallways were staring at her, and although being stared at was nothing out of the ordinary for Quinn Fabray, it was a sickening stare. This stare told her that she was being watched by hawks with her every movement, she was flavour of the month and everyone wanted to know the 411 about her baby and her relationships with the boys involved. Sometimes Quinn didn't feel like being watched. She wasn't in a zoo, and needed to escape. Carrying her books and having her bag over her shoulder, naturally, no one offered to carry them for her, she made her way to the choir room on her free period to have a little time to herself. Life was so much harder for everything took that extra minute. Stairs were the enemy and by the time she climbed her way up little beads of perspiration had formed on her forehead, gleaming in the light for her hair was pushed back and so didn't hide them.
She pushed open the door with a little effort, wondering why the lights remained on. Cautiously, she let her bags drop the floor and with both hands wrapped around her stomach, she walked across the room, over to the piano where someone sat working away at a song she did not recognise. Selfishly, Quinn let out a sigh of sadness. She knew it wasn't her space and she shouldn't have expected it to be free, but she had nowhere else to go and didn't feel like wandering the halls again to be gawked at. Waiting for a sign as to who the person was, she had a moment of hunger. Her hunger came in short, powerful waves. It was as if the little girl in her stomach decided she had to eat and that's all she'd focus on for a minute or two. The smell of a freshly fried bacon sandwich whirled into her nostrils and Quinn let it take over her, hands balling into small fists that took up the fabric of her floral print dress as she wave hit her.
"Quinn, Quinn are you okay?" A voice stirred her slowly out of her dream like state. She carefully opened her eyes, blinked to adjust to the light with a small eyelash falling down onto her crimson cheeks. Jesse St James peered up at her from behind the familiar piano. For the first time, she got a real look at him. He'd always been masked by Rachel's clingy hands or she'd be at the back of the choir room, only getting a view of the back of his head. A little dryness inside her mouth told her that she thought he was relatively handsome. Well, that was an understatement. She had a right to notice, she was a girl, a single girl, even with all her baggage. She dropped her hands and lowered her gaze, not wanting to leer the way people did the same to her.
"I'm fine," she looked back up, nodding subtly. "I thought I would be alone here, that's all." Feeling a little cruel to be so blunt, Quinn could only hope for a polite response. She watched him closely again, watched his brow relax, watched a little bright smile form on his lips. She heard him begin to pack up his things, move over his belongings in preparation to leave. Raising a hand with a flat palm she indicated for him to stay. "Please, I'll go. You were here first." She didn't want to be the demanding Quinn today. Her tiredness loomed over her thoughts and speaking seemed like such a difficult task to perform. But he was here first, and he had stuff do.
"It's a big choir room. I'm sure that we can share for a while." Jesse offered and Quinn nodded again in response, not feeling up to speaking that much. He leapt up from his chair with a start, realising instantly that she had no bags for him to take. Feeling remotely awkward, he attempted to casually lean back into his seating position but stumbled and the result was him dropping his hands onto the piano with an out of tune clang. He prepared to apologise immediately but noticed her laughing a little with a hand covering her mouth. He didn't know what to say to her, they had never done more than took part in a group number together, but he knew one thing for certain."You are very beautiful when you laugh like that, it lights up the room like a spotlight hitting a darkened stage" commented Jesse, sitting back down as he spoke. "Then again," he mused, "you are quite the classic beauty. The sort that would be on posters in New York advertising perfume." He had no filter but that's not what Quinn noticed. He kept his eyes solely on her face and didn't make a single reference to her pregnancy. The chance felt warm and welcome. She gave him a gracious smile and glided around the piano, sitting down on the closest plastic chair.
She rested her chin on the back of her hand as she looked across the classroom. All these thoughts came to mind about why he was there and why he had said such nice things but one stuck out among her train of thoughts that had to be spoken. "Aren't you with Rachel?" Taking part in cheating and being a victim of it taught Quinn to be more considerate, and the way he spoke to her was certainly in a cheating way, if he did not mean it. He gave a deep sigh and placed a careful finger over a key, contemplating playing it. She sat patiently, wondering whether a nerve had been hit. Sympathy ran through her with the look of sadness in his eyes.
"Rachel and I," he began to speak and she instantaneously leaned forwards in her chair. Being alone seemed far less important when she had something to occupy her mind with. "I can feel her slipping through my fingers. Even if she doesn't know it, I can see the way she," he fumbled through his sentence, rereading the little composition he'd made before returning his eyes to the black and white piano keys, "I can see the way she looks at other people. Sometimes I wonder whether it's her fault or not, or just his." Sure, he hadn't and wasn't being the most honest person in the world when it came to Rachel. Yet his feelings now were very much real and she seemed to be more focused on having a reputation rather than a boyfriend. Not to mention the way she stared across at Finn. Their history had been purposefully not been told to him but he'd been getting wiser and it hurt. He stopped and turned his head to witness her reaction. Quinn recoiled a little, pulling out the knots in her golden hair, playing with her headband.
"I know a little too much about problems concerning Rachel and her relationship with Finn." She chewed down on her lip, releasing her hair from her hand. He acknowledged her reply with saddened interest, picking up a piece of paper and reading through it carefully again. When she eventually understood why he was being so quiet, she got up to her feet, taking her time to lift herself out of the chair, before returning to the piano. She leaned against the side and peered to the right in an attempt to read his work. "Did you write this yourself?" She scowled at her own stupid question, kicking the piano leg with her right foot. "I mean," she changed the course of her sentence to try and be interested, "would you play the song for me?" She had never heard him sing outside of his old group so didn't know he played the piano, but guessed considering how good and well respected he'd been at Vocal Adrenaline. They treated him like a god there, but at McKinley he sunk into the background. It was like how she used to be the head cheerleader, the girl everyone wanted to be. Now she was nothing more than the girl who got herself knocked up. "I'd love to hear you play." She whispered timidly.
He lifted out both hands and stretched his fingers, placing them down on the correct keys for the beginning of the song. He tilted his head back and with closed eyes began to play the song he'd made up, rehearsed and remembered. The notes flowed perfectly together. The song was sweet, ready paced, full of different sounds. If they weren't in a choir room in a high school, Quinn could've sworn that they were in an opera house listening to the most beautiful piano solo she'd ever heard. From what her ears could tell, there were no mistakes to the music he was making. When he eventually lifted his fingers from the instrument below, she burst into applaud and he beamed up at her thankfully. "It was amazing, Jesse." She swayed a little in her stance and held onto the side of the piano to keep her stood up.
He ruffled through his pieces of paper again, smoothed down his slightly sweaty palms against the fabric of his jeans and looked up at her. Tears were glistening in her eyes. A little weight lifted from his shoulders. Someone at this school had finally taken an interest in him other than Rachel, even though her interest was hard to come by these days. He had a glimmer of hope that she might want to stick around. It wasn't hard to tell that Jesse was lonely at this high school. He had no reason to feel otherwise. The glee club ignored every suggestion that came from his mouth and other students had no interest in the transferred boy with the slightly peculiar tousled hair. So, he decided to take a small chance. A small chance that would change the course of his destiny forever. "Would you like me to teach it to you?" he asked.