Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or any of its characters.
Cigarettes and Vanilla
Chapter 1
The hallways were packed with teenagers of all heights and body types. The bell had rung minutes ago and now everyone was rushing to their classes after having stood in the hallway milling about. Hugging my books tight to my chest, I make my way to AP Biology remaining invisible in the large crowd.
I sit myself in the front row, directly in front of the teachers desk. It's where I've always sat, and I try to do so in every class unless theres assigned seating. I find it easier to concentrate and the alternative is far worse. Sitting in the back with the jocks and cheerleaders isn't my type of green tea. Though I don't think a whole lot are in AP classes.
"Alright class, we've covered the Krebs Cycle and hopefully you've done your homework," starts Mr. Coombs the minute the bell rings. His greying hair is parted neatly and his clothes are crisp and ironed. "So now its time for a game of Hit or Miss."
The class groans in unison and I pull out my notes and homework. The pages are still a bit crinkly in places where I gripped to hard last night.
Give me all your money or I'll...I'll kill you right here and now.
I shiver and place my hands on the desk to remind myself of where I am.
"Oh come on guys, it'll be easy...if you did the work I assigned that is." He lets out a low chuckle, pushing his glasses back. "No really, I'll go easy on you guys––"
And the classroom door opens to reveal black boots, ripped jeans and a dark hoody. Pink hair sticks out from under the hood, but a shadow obscures the persons face.
"Well look who we have here?" Mr. Coombs smirks. His square face crumples into a disapproving mask. "Your late, late, late. Please, hand me your pass, take a seat and take the hoodie off Miss Fabray. Honestly, I'm quite surprised your here. That you'd even grace us with your presence, considering Ms. Clark wasn't good enough."
This Fabray girl dumps the pass in Mr. Coombs hand and takes a seat way in the back. She doesn't remove her hood, a fact that hasn't escaped Mr. Coombs attention.
"Ms. Fabray step to the front of the class, please." She remains behind her desk and even goes as far as to put her feet atop of it. "Take the hood off."
She ignores him and pulls out a binder and pen. "It'd be nice if you started class so we could learn something, instead of harping about whether or not my hood should be on or off."
The class gasps and I feel a warmth in the pit of my stomach. That voice...
Mr. Coombs isn't sure what to do in this situation, so he takes the most appropriate route and continues on with Hit or Miss. By time class ends I have less than half of the notes I should have been taking down. I'm not sure why my thoughts or my eyes keep wandering to the back of the class for another look at Fabray.
My books are being placed in my locker when I feel a warm breath against my neck. I stiffen.
Stop squirming.
"So any particular reason you couldn't keep your eyes off me earlier?" Her breath tickles my ears and I grip the last book in my hand tightly.
I've never tried this before but I'll give it a shot now.
I spin around, only to step back further into my locker. Her eyes. A hazel color, but they hold something. Familiarity.
"I––do I know you?" My voice sounds accusing, although I'm not sure what I'm accusing her of.
"No," she says quickly, flipping bright pink hair. Her nose ring is distracting, along with her dark eye liner and porcelain face. "Why?"
"You seem familiar in a way."
"I get that a lot," she shoots me a dirty smirk and I'm put on edge. "I'm Quinn. We should go out. "
"...what?"
"You heard me." She leans in closer and I catch her scent. She smells like...
"You're out awfully late you know." She smells like cigarettes and vanilla. An odd combination maybe, but it seems to work on her. "Why?"
"It was you," I whisper. "Your the one that held me up."
Her expression falters then darkens. Placing a hand behind me, she shuts my locker door and lowers her mouth to my ear.
"And? What are you going to do about it?" I can hear the waver in her voice. My comment was unexpected and I'm sure I caught her off guard. What I'm unsure of is whether or not she's scared.
"I'm appalled that you'd even ask me out after knowing your crime against me. Do you even recognize me from last night?"
Her answer comes slowly and leaves quickly. Being this close to her, knowing the face behind the mask is too much for me. The halls have emptied and we're ten minutes late to our next class.
"What are you doing?" I gasp at the feel of her slipping something into my back pocket.
Her hand lingers there for a moment before sliding out.
"I'm returning your money. I'm not a bad guy you know. I just do stupid things sometimes. Like right now and before. I don't want you to be afraid of me."
"Well it's too late for that. You should have thought of that before holding a knife to my throat," I whisper harshly, pushing her off of me. "To think you even had a chance with me shows how low level you are."
I see a flicker of hurt behind hazel. That's all it is. A flicker. Quickly its replaced by heated fury.
"I still have that knife you know. Why don't I re-introduce you to it." And I see her hand itching closer to her hoodie pocket.
"So you resort to threats when your angry?" I throw out. "When you don't get your way? If you touch me, I swear I'll have the police, my father's, the NAACP, anybody who will listen, they'll be all over you."
I'm suddenly Rachel Berry the Brave and I can't pin where it came from. My heart beats erratically, my breath quickens.
"I thought you looked so beautiful that night you know," she whispers, looking down the hall. "I didn't want to hurt you or scare you. But you were there and what else was I supposed to do? Had I left Ronnie to do it you probably would be dead. Look, I'm sorry for all it's worth. I gave you your money back and you can have the satisfaction of putting me behind bars. Or Juvie I guess."
Quinn is unstable...either that or she's given up and is baring her all. I want so badly to forgive her and know this person, the one she's showing me, but it occurs to me that her knife was held against my neck last night and she is who was running through my nightmares. Her face will be forever imprinted in my brain and attached to it will be fear.
I fear her.
I'm afraid of her and that weapon concealed in her pocket.
"You scare me." I finally say.
"I know. I can tell," she chuckles, but it's pitiful.
My fathers always told me I had a heart of gold and that I wore it on my sleeve. Maybe it would catch someones eye and they'd run off with it, they'd say. Hopefully their heart would be secure with me as well. I care too much and in this moment I see exactly why people take advantage of me. I'm too giving as well and right now I'm about to give Quinn Fabray a chance.
"We can meet at the Lima Bean after school. It's not a date, but we have to start somewhere."
And it is a start. To something I'm not sure of yet, but a beginning it is.
Thanks guys. I put out another one. Review! Tell me what you think :)
