A/N: Hey Gleeks! So this is my first Glee story (and technically my first story on my new account) so I really hope you all enjoy it. I know the characters are a little OCC (espcially Rach - but that was sort of my point.)
--
Today is April 23rd. Which means it has been exactly one year – one year since everything went bad. One year since everything got thrown out the window and turned to shit.
Lots of things happened on April 23rd last year – one of the biggest? Quinn has her baby – Rachel was only made aware of the exact date because she was with Finn when Quinn decides to call him instead of Puck when she goes into labour at Brittany's house.
--
"Shouldn't you get that?" Rachel asks – not really paying attention to him. She's sprawled out on her bed flipping through a magazine and he's laying across her floor with his feet resting on her bed trying to work through a book he has assigned to read for English class.
"Nah," he mumbles barely paying attention, "It's probably just Matt or Mike wanting to hang out or something anyways."
So she shrugs and goes back to reading her magazine – it's not like she cares weather he answers his phone or not. She's only read another paragraph before it goes off again. She doesn't speak this time – figuring if he doesn't care she should try and not let it bother her. Though when it rings the third time she puts down her magazine and stares at him.
"Finn – I can't read with that thing going off every thirty seconds. Please just answer it."
He sighs, but sits up to do as he's asked. He pulls out his phone and a weird expression crosses his face.
"It's Quinn." He states before she can ask.
"Oh," it's all she can think to say. "Do you think it's important?"
He bites the inside of his cheek, he looks deep in thought, the phone stops ringing before he answers her, "I'm trying to decide if I care."
She can't think of what to say – Lucky for her she doesn't have to as the music from the phone blares back on moments later. He sighs – defeated. He flips open the phone and holds it to his ear.
"Yeah." It's as much as a greeting as he can force out right now – he know it's been about 5 months since the whole baby gate mess but he's still trying it hard to forgive the two of them. (Puck and Quinn that is.)
Rachel can't hear what Quinn is saying – but it must be serious because Finn's face goes from annoyed to serious pain in about five seconds. It stays that way for about another minute when he finally lets out a deep breath and something akin to relief flickers across his features.
He snaps his phone shut and his eyes meet Rachel's. "She's going into labour." The word come out sounding awkward and a little frightened if he's being honest. "I'm going to go pick her up from Brittany's and take her to the hospital."
Rachel only smiles – She knew he could only stay mad at Quinn for so long. It must be nice for him to finally just accept her back into his life.
"Alright," she says, "I don't really know proper etiquette as far as what one should say to a friend when he's about to see his friend into labour – so I'll stick with my favourite parting of luck. Break a Leg Hudson."
He smiles back – because he knows that Rachel understands. He's up on his feet and down the stairs before he can even get a goodbye past his lips.
--
April 23rd is also the date of the one and only day that Noah Puckerman gets to see his baby girl. She only knows this because later in the week when she has a note to drop off at Ms. Pillsbury office from Mr. Schue (which she did not read by the way, and had no idea contained details for an intimate dinner at his house) she notices voices and decides not to disturb. She's not being nosy – really, she's being polite.
"Noah, I know that you find it hard to talk to others about your feelings – especially your high school guidance counsellor – but these fights have got to stop. I know that Quinn recently had her baby, and that you are the father. Could this possible having anything to do with that?"
Rachel strains to hear his answer – she's heard of the fights, but hasn't really bothered to care why. For more than one reason.
She hears a lot of cussing, and she knows he must be shouting.
"None of your damn fucking business." Seems to be a phrase that he repeats a lot.
"Alright Noah – You can go." Ms. Pillsbury releases him so suddenly that she doesn't have time to make it look like she hasn't been listening.
He's in the hallway before she can blink – standing there with her eyes all wide right outside the door. He just stares at her – and she reminded of the look they shared the day she told Finn everything.
He doesn't say anything at first, but she notices his adam's apple bob up and down slowly – almost as if he's trying hard not to cry. Rachel doesn't like seeing Puck this way. She likes picturing him as a tough, hard and emotionless human being. It's easier to get along with him that way.
But seeing him almost crying? It's enough for her to almost start.
"Do you have any idea what it's like to hold your precious baby in your arms for twenty-one minutes?" there goes his adam's apple again, bobbing slowly – she tries not to look. "Twenty-one minutes. That's all, and then the nurses come and take her away and you know you'll never get to see her again, hold her again."
He begins to walk past her and she can't stop the stinging behind her eyes. She's never seen anyone look so broken before – It makes her heart hurt for him, and for Quinn wherever she is.
"Twenty-one minutes isn't long enough to say I love you." He mumbles the last part, and she's not sure if she's meant to her it or not. She doesn't care – she wouldn't have responded either way.
--
April 23rd is also the date on which Rachel Berry has her first drink. Finn had been gone for hours by this point – and when he left it felt as if he had taken every chance of "them" with him. Which hurt – a lot.
Also, her Dad's were gone; Again.
She had absolutely no one to talk to, to call, to hang out with, to be with. It was a Friday night and she had no friend's insight. It was a very depressing thought.
At this point in her life she would normally pop in some old musical and curl up on the couch to the comfort of the classic Broadway hits. Tonight though – that didn't seem like enough. And so she did the only thing she could think of that was so not her.
She raided her parents liquor cabinet. She had never drank before – so she had no idea what to do. Her Dad's it seemed love Wine – they had bottles and bottles of it. Also, stored near the back was some Rum and Tequila. She decides to go with the tequila. Why? Because wine seems to melodramatic for what she wants and Rum seems to manly.
She's not sure what she should do – so she grabs a class and pours it up full. She wonders if that will be too much – after all this is her first time. But then she remembers how fast Finn ran out of her bedroom and out of her house. She picks up the class and decides to chug. She only gets about a sip down before she has to set the class down from the sudden onslaught of fire coating her throat. She thinks she understands why they're called shots.
She only finishes half the class before she feels blissfully happy. Like nothing could be wrong. She wants to call Finn and tell him to screw off – and that he can have his stupid dumb cheating pregnant girlfriend, but she can't seem to dial in his number correctly on the phone. Which makes her laugh – a lot.
It's only when her Dad's call half an hour later that her buzz starts to die. She knows she can't pick up – she hasn't talked but she's sure it would come out all wrong. So she hits ignore and hopes they don't call again. She thinks she's finally ready for bed.
--
It's April 23rd and Rachel is nursing her bottle of Captain Mo's as she so affectionately refers to him and wondering around her house. She's had about a quarter of the 26er and she doesn't even feel light headed yet. Probably what comes of drinking almost every day of the past year. You almost grow immune to it. Though Rachel doesn't know what she would do without the precious alcohol she carries with her. She has a thick metal canteen that use to hold water – no one questions that she carries it around with her everywhere. I mean, she use to do the same thing when it held water. So no one thinks it's strange that she is constantly taking drinks from it – and that throughout the day she gets more and more spaced out. Not that anyone would care even if that did notice. That thought is depressing to – so she takes another long chug from the bottle.
It's the perks of being invisible she thinks. She normally only drinks enough to get her light headed – enough to dull the pain of being stuck in this shit hole down, with no friends, no boyfriend, and practically no family.
Except today is April 23rd, so she's going to drink until she passes out cold and can't feel a thing.
She cusses and flops down on her couch. "Damn I hate April." She says out loud – why she's not sure. She raises the bottle to her lips and chugs a good long haul from the bottle. Enjoying the burning in her throat now – and the warm sensation that fills her stomach as it hits it.
The house phone rings than, and she doesn't even flinch when she leans over and see's her Dad's cell flashed across the screen. She's been talking to everyone drunk for the past year and she's one hundred percent positive that no one knows – or even suspects. Although there was one time with Noah – but he's never said anything.
--
Rachel stumbled against her locker and giggles. She was never one for giggling before – but then again she never drank before either. It's only half way through May and she's been doing the whole drunk thing almost every day. She's amazed at how much she doesn't care about being hurt anymore; the perfect anti-depressant. No more trying to be better in school, glee, dance, singing or anything to make herself feel better. She doesn't need petty accomplishments to make her feel like a human being. She just needs a Mickey of anything you got and she'll be fine.
She stumbles again and giggles again. It's between periods so the hallways are deserted. Not that she'd care anyways. Though the next time she stumbles she hits something hard – it catches her somehow though before she hits the ground.
When she finally gets her bearings (the room is still slightly spinning but what can you do) she looks up and finds Noah Puckerman glaring down at her.
"What the fuck Berry?" he asks clearly confused and annoyed.
He's starting to kill her buzz and she doesn't like that. She tries to pull away but finds it a little more difficult that she should.
"What?" she replies – proud that she doesn't stutter or slur the small word at all. Though she's not sure she could get out much more than that without a little bit of slurring. She might have overdid that last few shots she just did.
He looks uncomfortable, "Are you okay?" she sure it physically hurts him to try and care – and she's reminded of that day in the hallway little under a month ago with his stupid adam's apple and her buzz is really dying now.
"I'm fine Puck," she makes sure to use his atrocious nick name – she doesn't want to have any affiliation with this person, any ties at all.
"Well fuck it Berry – but you smell like..." his voice trails off then because Mr. Schue picks that moment to down the hallway and wave at both of them.
"Well as lovely as you cursing at me and telling me I smell has been, I think I must be off to classes now." She turns around and only slightly stumbles. She keeps walking and doesn't even try and wonder if she's walking straight or not. She can feel his eyes burning a hole in the back of her head and the feeling doesn't even go away when she turns the corner.
She doesn't stop walking until she gets to the first washroom she finds. She empties her stomach contents in the toilet. Huh – guess she does have a gag reflex after all.
Damn – Yeah, Noah definitely killed her buzz.
--
She answers on the third ring and tries to make it sound like she's just got the phone.
"Hello?" she asks – her voice doesn't stutter at all.
"Pumpkin? It's daddy." The voice on the other end answers.
"Daddy?" she asks, trying to sound excited, "Oh I just made it in time. I just got back from Tina's house. How is your and Dad's trip going?"
She hasn't been to Tina's house – ever. But she is not about to let on that she spends every day alone in the house with no one around. She's afraid if she does her parents will feel the need to be home more – which can't happen because she's sure they'd catch onto her bad habit more quickly if they were around more often.
Not that she uses their liquor very much anymore.
--
"Look Jacob," she states, very irritated. Her Dad's have been home for the past four days and she hasn't had the chance to have even a sip of alcohol in that time. She knows she should be worried for the desperate need she has for the horrid liquid – but she can't bring herself to care. No one else seems to.
"This is the deal," she continues, "I'm going to give you one of my bras and you are going to get me a fake I.D. No questions asked. I know you make those for money – so don't even try denying it."
He just leers at her creepily, "A bra?" he asks – his voice almost in awe.
She shudders – this boy really has some issues. Issues that she does not want to deal with. "Yes – now how long is it going to take?"
"I don't know – what kind of bra we talking?"
She shakes her head – can't believe she's trading her used under pieces for fake ID – where has her life gone?
She slips her hand into her bag and pulls out a small piece of the undergarment for him to preview. It's just a plain black bra – nothing too sexy, but nothing close to a sports bra either.
"I can have it for you by tomorrow after school." He states, licking his lips (she shudders again. Sick.) "Do you just want me to use your yearbook photo?"
She shakes her head and hands him a photo she took of herself just last night. She's wearing far too much make-up, and her hair is up – but it makes her look older and she thinks it'll work better than a school year book photo.
He stares at the photo and licks his lips again. Oh she so doesn't want to think what he's going to be doing with that photo later.
--
She finally gets her Dad's off the phone. They just want to talk forever these days. She convinces him that she has plans with the other glee clubbers as it is a Saturday night. She promises them she won't be out to late and settles into the couch once more, still cradling her bottle to her.
Saturday night – man she feels pathetic.
And then she thinks – why should she be stuck at home on a Saturday night drinking alone. She knows that there is this bar just twenty minutes outside of town that for sure doesn't know her as Rachel Berry – High school student. She knows because she's been there once or twice before.
She runs upstairs quickly and changes from her school outfit to something a little more bar appropriate, she adds a little more eyeliner to her make-up and swipes on some lip gloss, and she grabs her keys and wallet and she's out the door.
She knows somewhere in her mind that she really should not be drinking and driving – how many school assemblies has she attended on the subject after all – but she really doesn't care. And she thinks that she's still clear headed enough to make it there – though she's not sure what she'll do about the back trip. Probably have to call a cab or something.
--
When she gets inside the bar it's crowded enough that she'll know she can just blend in and not stick out like a sore thumb for being there alone, but not too crowded as to make her want to leave. She heads straight for the bar. She knows she has about twenty dollar in her wallet and she plans to get as drunk as she can with it. Hopefully it'll be enough – but then she remembers that it's April 23rd and suddenly it seems like there isn't enough alcohol in the world for her.
It turns out she doesn't need to worry about money after all. As soon as she gets the bar there is this guy who is super old and creepy - but he offers to buy her a drink and for some reason she agrees; though as soon as the bartender hands her the drink she's away from that end of the bar before the old man can even tell.
The pattern of men buying her drinks continues for the whole night. It seems like lots of the community college students are in there tonight – and most of them being desperate young males. Only one succeeds in buying her more than one drink - after the third he buys for her he finally has her out on the dance floor with the rest of the couples as well.
He's told her his name but she can hardly remember it, Tad or Brad – or something else like that. It's louder on the dance floor so she doesn't even try and hear his pointless talking, she just gets lost in the feel of this older and very cute man (if she says so herself) holding her close and slowly moving against her to the rhythm. It's been a long time since she's had any physical contact like this.
She's not sure if it's for that reason, or the alcohol, or the pain and hurt from the last year that makes her do her next move – but none the less she does. She reaches up and smashes her lips against his – or close to his. She's very drunk and it's hard to concentrate. Though he quickly angles his head and fixes the problem. She pulls away after a moment or so, and stares at him through hooded eyes – "How drunk are you?" she finally asks.
"Just had about three or four beers." He responds – she realizes this doesn't really answer her question as she's not sure if this is a lot or not for him. She tilts her head and decides she doesn't care.
"I would ask my place or yours – but mine really isn't an option right now." She's not sure if he's really heard her but when he suddenly is dragging her off the dance floor and towards the exit she laughs – yes he definitely heard her. She tells him she needs her jacket and purse from the coat check.
He says he'll go pick up and his car and meet her out front – she nods and heads off to the coat check area. She knows she should be nervous – she's a virgin and she doesn't even know the guys name. She's probably too drunk to care.
She is just waiting for the girl to return with her purse and jacket when she feels a sharp tug on her elbow, forcing her to turn around.
She's suddenly face to face with a very pissed off Noah Puckerman.
"What the hell Berry?" he shouts at her above the music. "What do you think you're doing?"
She is looking at his fingers around her elbow – it's starting to hurt. "What do you mean?"
"I know you are so not leaving with that guy. You guys aren't even dating! Do you even know him?"
Now she's pissed – Why in the world would Puck care who she goes home with. "Why in the hell do you care? And what makes you think that we aren't dating?"
"Because I've never seen him around you ever!" he states – as if it's completely obvious.
"And when the fuck have you seen me around in this last year Puck?" she shouts at him – she's not sure if she's shouting because she's really that angry or if it's to make sure he can hear her over the music.
When he doesn't respond right away she takes that as her cue to rip her elbow out of his grasp and turn around to grab her stuff and the hell about of there.
"Berry – Wait. The guys a creep! Let me take you home." She hears him calling after her, but she doesn't slow and she doesn't stop. She can't talk to Puck – it just hurts to damn much. She hates everything associated with that damn school – and with damn April 23rd.
--
She's not sure where they are going until they pull up in front of the local college and she knows they are heading for the dorms. She just hopes he doesn't have a roommate.
They've barely spoken a word since she's gotten in the car – and she can fill a nervous tension beginning to fill her stomach. Doubt is making it twist uncomfortably – she keeps glancing at him, trying to memorize his face. If she can't remember his name than the least she can do is remember his face.
She wants to ask his name again – but they've already made out and she's pretty sure she's about to sleep with him so she's not sure how well that would go over.
He parks in one end of the parking lot and wastes no time in shutting off and car and unbuckling. He's out the car door and ready to close it before she's even unbuckled hers. He assumes it's because she's still pretty drunk (it's not – it's because she's nervous. But she doesn't want him to know she's still a virgin.)
He thankfully has the courtesy to help her from the car and hold her hand as he pulls her along the sidewalk to the closest dorm room.
"My room is just through here." He looks her up and down as they pass through the outside doors, "Where do you go to school?"
She has a feeling that he's not enough of a creep to still sleep with her if she's says William McKinley High School. So she lies – surprised at how well the words slip through her mouth, not a breath, word, or head tilt out of place to give her away.
"Not anywhere near here," she tells him, staying vague is her key. Mystery, "I'm just visiting my cousins well I'm on break – they live in Lima."
He nods and continues walking her down a series of hallways. She knows she should be paying attention so she can find her way out again when this is all over.
They finally make it to a door at the end of a hallway, and she thanks the heavens that they have names taped to the door. She can make out two names written in the slots.
Bradley Thudd and Stephen Wall. She knows he must be Brad – but she wants to make sure just in case.
"You have a roommate?" she asks.
"Yeah," he replies well unlocking his door, "But Steve's gone for the week, so don't worry."
And now she's positive she's about to sleep with a guy named Bradley Thudd and she can't even make herself care that she doesn't even like the name.
Before the door is even closed he has his lips latched onto her neck, slowly suckling down it, well his other hands undoes the buttons on her blouse. Her breath catches in her throat and she shivers. She may not know him – but it feels good. Very good.
It's been so long since she's had any real human contact this way. Someone who really cares who she is – what she's doing. Even if it's just for a moment – even if it's just because she's going to have sex with him.
She pushes him away slightly, "Don't leave a mark." Is all she says before pulling his shirt over his head. Her Dad's may not be home until Monday – but she doesn't want to have to worry about hiding anything. Plus – she may like the way he makes her feel right now, but she has a feeling she'll want nothing to do with him in a few hours. Damn she needs another drink.
--
Noah Puckerman is at a loss for words. Rachel Berry is in a night club. Well, she was in a night club. She left about five minutes ago and Puck is still struggling with the idea of jumping in his truck and following the loser she left with.
He can't believe that Rachel Berry is about to go have a one night stand. Despite his loss for words earlier – he has noticed Berry this past year, and he knows she's never been with that guy – Ever.
He notices because he's been drinking longer and more often than anyone else he knows – or at least, he had been. He's not sure if he can still be number one in that category. Longer sure – but more often?
If he had to guess – he was positive Berry had more to drink on a daily basis than a winery store owner. Cept he didn't know what to do about it. At first – he really didn't care. It was her life, if she wanted to drink herself into oblivion so she didn't have to deal with all the shit of the world that was her deal – and fuck if he cared. He had his own shit to deal with. Then when his pain started to ebb away slightly (slightly was a huge improvement in his case when you're talking about his baby girl)
But then something changed – or didn't change he should say. He was sure it was just a phase – almost everyone in Lima gets depressed at least once in their lives, and how they deal with it is their issue. But she didn't stop – he wishes he had been paying closer attention to realize how long it had been going on.
The first day he really started to worry had been when they were in a Glee rehearsal – and Mr. Schue had wondered in all happy and go lucky and announced they were going to be singing "You don't give me flowers anymore." By Neil Diamond and Barbra Streisand – He was positive Berry would insist on her being Barbra's lead because she was Jewish like Barbra – and Barbra was her icon or some shit like that.
But she didn't say and a word – and then when Mr. Schue asked if she would mind singing lead – she merely just looked at him and asked if he would mind very much giving the lead to Mercedes or Tina. Her mouth formed Mercedes name all wrong and it came out a little funny – but no one thought much of that. They were all too flabbergasted (yes fuck off he knew that word) that Rachel Berry had denied a lead – and a Barbra Streisand lead at that.
He paid slightly closer attention after that. Not too much though – he still had a life. After Quinn had given up the baby he had began to drown himself in meaningless sex. He knew it was stupid – you get a girl pregnant and then all you can do is sleep with fifty others. But it was the only thing that made him able to sleep at night – or at least get him closer to sleep than anything else could.
Otherwise he'd just get these cold sweats, and his hands would start shaking and all he could think about was his beautiful baby girl, and how he doesn't even know her name.
The point though – was that he had been paying attention to her. Whether a lot or little was beside the point, all he knew was that this guy was a creep and he was going to get in Berry's pants. But then he remembered how viciously she had ripped her elbow away from him and stormed away. She didn't want his help so why should he give a fuck?
He's probably just jealous that that douche bag is going to get to touch her boobs and she never let him. Yeah – that was it.
So he goes back to the bar and orders another drink – and tells the bartender to make one for the total Milf on the other side of the bar.
--
Rachel is in the middle of trying to control her breathing. She's lying beside this guy in his stupid single bed in his stupid two bedroom dorm room and she's trying not to cry. Why? Because as of thirty-one minutes ago she is no longer a virgin. And it didn't mean anything. Hell she doesn't even think he knows that he just took some seventeen year olds virginity. She's not even a senior yet – and her first time is with a worthless college guy who probably won't even remember her name in the morning.
Not that she's going to stick around to find out. She's been waiting patiently to make sure she's really asleep before she makes her escape. She can't handle being in this room any longer. It smells of old textbooks and dirty laundry and sweat – and it's making her head hurt and her stomach turn and she just wants to be home in her bed and away from all this.
This night has been way to long – she had intended to spend a much longer time at the bar than she had. Which reminds her of time – and what day it is, or maybe if she's lucky, what day it was. She holds her breath – because if that clock does not say it's at least past 12:30 that means she lost her virginity to a random on April 23rd – and that's just another first she can't handle on this day.
She glances around the room and finally finds his alarm clock.
"Fuck." She states.
It's 12:22am.
--
By the time she's outside she's already finished calling a cab to come pick her up. Thankfully he seemed to understand where she is better than she does.
She's going to get him to drop her off back at the bar – she needs to pick up her car and go home.
She's pretty sure her buzz has been thoroughly killed. She's safe to drive home.
--
She doesn't wake up until almost noon the next day and all she wants to do his go back to sleep. She's sore and tired and she feels like shit – more emotionally than physically.
She can't believe she's ruined her life so much this year.
She use to be this amazingly motivated girl who had A+ in every class and always had to have the lead in glee, and was in all different kinds of dancing and singing lessons.
She dropped ballet about six months ago when she figured out that fortes and JD definitely don't mix. Her dad's still don't know. She laughs out aloud a little at that – her Dad's don't know anything.
They don't know she's barely maintaining a C average in classes, they don't know she hasn't sang more than two leads all year – and that is just because Mr. Schue forced her if she wanted to stay in Glee. As messed up as she is – she knows she doesn't want to give up everything completely.
They don't know that Finn has barely spoken to her at all this past year – though she's not entirely sure if that's more her fault or his.
They don't know she hasn't hung out with anyone outside of school in over a year.
They don't know anything – and she's lonely.
Her laughing turns to sobbing before she can stop it. Though this is the first time she hasn't felt like fixing the feeling with taking a drink. It all seems so useless now.
She gets up to shower – because she knows she's not going to stop crying anytime soon and she feels pathetic and useless and the only way she knows how to start fixing it is to shower.
She's surprised by how much it hurts to walk – losing your virginity is bitch, she thinks sullenly as she strips her clothes off and steps into the hot shower.
The warm water soothes her sore muscles and helps her body relax – which helps the pain, a little. Though the warmth does little to soothe the ache that is much deeper than her muscles.
She shouldn't have done that last night. Then again – she shouldn't have done a lot of things she's done this past year. She shouldn't have taken that first drink, or the second, or the thirteenth or the thirtieth.
She shouldn't have given up on school, and her friends, or anything else she's given up.
She's not sure how to get it all back.
--
Rachel stayed in the shower until the water ran cold. Only then did she dare step out into the bathroom and rap a towel around her. She carefully makes her way back to her room, where she notices her phones light is lighting up – she has a voice message.
She assumes it's from her parents – but she doesn't recognize the number.
She frowns and punches in the code to access her voice mail and holds the phone to her lips as the message is relayed to her.
"Hey – I uh... I got your number from that stupid music folder thing you made all of us a year ago or so. I just hope it's still the same...Look – uh...Fuck." she almost smiles, only Puck would swear on a voice machine, "Look Berry – I know this is awkward, but...I just wanted to make sure that your not like...Dead or something, chopped up in the back of that guys car." There is another pause and she almost smiles again – she doesn't know why Puck is caring, but then when she thinks of him caring all she can think about is that damn adam's apple of his again and how it bobbed and she suddenly doesn't want to hear any of this message anymore, but she can't bring herself to stop it before it's done either. "Dammnit Berry – just like...text me or something. I don't' want to keep worrying about your scrawny ass – it's annoying as hell."
She counts only three profanities in the message and thinks he may be improving. She sighs then and texts him a quick answer – she doesn't want to talk to him, but she doesn't want him asking around for her either. She doesn't want anyone else privy to the knowledge that she just had a one night stand with a guy she doesn't' even know.
--
Puck can't believe the relief he feels when he feels his cell phone vibrating in his pocket. He places down his guitar and pulls out the cell – the relief only multiplies when he realizes it is in fact Berry.
1:16: Fine – no missing appendages
He doesn't reply – he doesn't need to. She's safe – he did as much as he could.
--
Rachel thinks it's unfair that she has to sit at home along, and eat dinner in front of the couch watching meaningless TV and wonder why in the world life sucks so much.
She's sipping water from a class – she still can't bring herself to drink. She's not sure if the shock of losing her virginity has finally pulled her from her yearlong bender – or something else.
Either way half of her is very annoyed – her mind is annoyingly clear and she's not use to thinking like that.
She tries to distract herself with the story line on TV. Perfect – it's some mother comforting her daughter and telling her how stupid boys are.
She feels a sting in her eyes – she's use to this ache though. She's spend every single day of the past year – and weeks and months before that – wishing she knew her mother. Aching for the mother she never got to meet.
She loves her gay Dads – but they just don't understand everything the way she wants them to. She wishes that she had a Mom and a Dad just like every other person that goes to her school. She wants to be normal – but more importantly – she wants to be loved.
She's tired of being lonely.
--
When she slips into her bed that night she wonders how she'll ever fall asleep. In the past she's just been so drunk she just kind of passed out. She wonders how she ever settled her mind before alcohol.
Her mind is to awake – to alert. Her body is dead tired, her muscles ache and the southward part of her is still very sore. She has school bright and early tomorrow morning and she needs to be rested. For the first time in a long time she thinks she's going to start trying again – maybe not with everything –but maybe she can pull her grades up slightly before summer. After all she doesn't want to be stuck in all the lower level classes for her senior year.
Yet – she still can't fight how awake her mind is. It makes her annoyed – and almost grab for the bottle she know is hidden in her desk drawer – but she's too tired to cross the room to grab it, plus her stomach rolls at the thought of adding anymore alcohol to her system.
So she just lies in bed and wallows about the situation. She has no friends, hardly a family, and not much of a thing to live for at school. How did her life get so fucked up?
So she goes to bed wishing.
I wish I had a mother
I wish I had friends
I wish people would just like me
I wish my grades were better
I wish I wasn't so lonely
I wish someone really loved me
I wish I could find it within me to love someone
I wish life was just different
I wish I wasn't me
I wish I could change everything
I wish I wish I wish...
--
A/N: If you Read it Review it :)