A/N: overwhelmed by the positive response I got to the first part. :) I don't know exactly how long this will be... also, someone asked me who I saw as the actor for boy!Quinn and I have no idea o.O so I'm asking you guys! Who do you think would play a good male Quinn Fabray? let me know.
xoxo,
TWiM
P.S.: I got a couple of reviews saying I should continue to write him as she, but I want it to be from the point of view if Quinn herself started to see herself as the boy, not just a girl stuck in a boy's body, if that makes sense... I don't know, I hope it does and it doesn't confuse anybody.:)
If I Were a Boy, Part II
Hour: 6
Quinn was standing, with a towel wrapped over his chest, staring at the outfit Frannie had picked for him.
"Those should fit you perfectly. I mean, they are girl's pants, but no one will be able to notice the difference." Frannie was sitting on her old childhood bed, with a laptop on her lap, googling 'random sex change.' Nothing on the subject was ever random though. There were websites on intersexed people, and transsexuals and transgenders - but nothing about people going to sleep as a girl and waking up as a boy. "And, seriously, bro? You wrap the towel around your waist, not non-existent boobs. Not that you ever had much of those before..." she dodged the slap Quinn tried to hit her with, laughing. She caught a glimpse of that tattoo Quinn had gotten once (no, not that awful Ryan Seacrest one. Thank you, God, she already got rid of it!) and cried to her about it over the phone all night long. She still didn't know what it said or what it meant but it had been a great cause for distress.
"Whatever," Quinn mumbled but wrapped the towel as his sister had told him to anyway. "Fran," he sat at the edge of the bed, next to Frannie and tried to get a glimpse on the information his sister was gathering. Frannie immediately looked to him with a sympathetic expression and then sighed. She lifted the laptop from her lap and scooted it down the bed. Quinn laid his head on Frannie's lap, like he used to do when they were growing up. Then, she would whine or cry or talk to Fran about how much she hated their parents or someone at school had picked on her size. Now, he wanted to curl into a fetus and disappear. So, not that big a difference.
Frannie ran her fingers over his wet hair, calming him down. He's always liked that. His eyes were closed, his breath relaxing. He could feel Frannie's eyes washing over his face, and he cried. It was quiet and fast. He cried and when the tears ran out, he stood, said nothing, and grabbed the outfit from the bed.
Hour 6.5:
"Do you really think this is a good idea? What am I even going to tell her? Who am I? Why am I even there?" Quinn looked at himself on his sister's mirror, dressed in clothes he would never have bought for himself. He tugged on the collar of the plaid shirt he was wearing, under the brown vest covering his back and open at the front. His jeans were ripped, not entirely tight, but they rubbed uncomfortably against his package. He was wearing boxers, or whatever, but it still was a weird feeling to get used to. It just felt so heavy, dangling there. He fixed it and groaned at himself for doing what he's always hated in other guys.
Frannie surveyed her work from the doorway, holding up a sandwich, "eat. You must be starving." The grin on her face told Quinn that no matter what, Frannie loved him. As if she already didn't know that.
His sister was right, as she always was. He was starving, so with one last look at himself on the full mirror, he turned and raised an eyebrow at her. "So?" Opening his arms wide, he did a 180 once and reached for the sandwich. "How do I look?"
"Hot," Frannie told him, and buttoned his vest. "I'll go grab those brown shoes dad has but never wears. You'll be the handsomest guy at the party. She'll not even wonder what you're doing there, because she'll be drooling all over you."
He shook his hair, strawberry blonde and not yet combed back. It was sticking in every direction from when he towel-dried his hair after the shower. "How do I even begin t-"
"A second chance, Q." Frannie told him seriously. He bit his bottom lip but ran a thumb over it when he realized most guys she's met never did that.
"Fine," he sighed, and ran fingers to comb his hair back. "Do you have like, gel or something? Or do I just let it dry? Do I blow dry it?"
Frannie took his free hand and led him to the bathroom. "Let's just fix it like it was when I saw you this morning." Quinn leaned against the counter, standing three inches taller than Frannie now (instead of Frannie being an inch taller), and proceeded to finish the sandwich in two bites. He was famished. Frannie grabbed his rough chin, tilted it down a little and combed his hair to the side. The ends of his hair were primped up, and when he turned to look at himself on the mirror, he smiled. Itching the hair growing on his jawline, he asked Frannie, "Fran, do you think I should shave?"
"Nah," Frannie told him and slapped his arm toward the bedroom, "Girls like facial hair." With a wink, Fran sat back on the bed and then asked, "have you thought about a name yet?"
Hour 7:
"James?"
"No."
"Karl?"
"C or K?"
"K...?"
"No."
"You don't like any of my ideas! We've been at this for thirty minutes!"
"You have terrible ideas."
"I don't have to help you know that, right?"
"Just keep saying them," he pleaded, laying on his back, an arm thrown over his face.
"Octavius."
"You must be fucking joking."
"Richard?"
"Too old."
"Preston, George, Ezra - like Mr. Fitz."
"Next, next, and next."
"Alejandro, Lucas, We-"
"Wait! I like that one," Quinn sat up and smiled at Frannie, excited about his new name.
Frannie looked disgusted even if she suggested it, "Alejandro? Bro, that was a joke."
"No! The one after that. Lucas. Luke. Like, it's close to Lucy."
Frannie grinned at him and said, "Luke. I can see it. It fits you, baby brother."
Quinn narrowed his eyes at Frannie and warned, "you'll really have to stop calling me that."
"What? I'm trying to practice, just in case someone asks!"
"I can't be your brother then! How the hell would our parents explain that! I have to be like... a friend or a cousin, or- or like, a colleague. I don't know."
Frannie stood, her blonde hair shining against the sunlight coming through the window. "You should be a cousin. You look too much like a Fabray not to be one."
"I am a Fabray," Quinn stated, crossing her arms.
"Stand with your legs further apart," Frannie instructed, never moving from her spot. "Yeah, technically you are, but other people don't know that. If you show up and introduce yourself as something other than Fabray it'll just seem suspicious."
"Alright, Luke Fabray. Our father's second cousin removed son."
Frannie laughed out loud, holding her belly, "you better remember that every time someone asks."
"I will," Luke promised. "Now, onto more pressing matters - how do we explain this to the parents?" His sister gave him a wicked smile which kind of scared him. He threw his hands up, "I don't even know if I want to know."
"Just leave it to me."
Hour: 8
"This still feels kind of lame, showing up to a party no one knows who I am."
"You ever hear of crashing a party?"
"Why would I want to crash a party with a bunch of losers?" Luke asked. "Nobody at school cares about Glee club. If I'm the only person who wasn't invited to show up... that'll look weird."
Luke cast his eyes toward Rachel's house once again. It was one story, with white windows, and a small garden at the front. To the side, there was a fence which led to the backyard where Luke could hear party music coming from.
Frannie just pushed at his biceps, and he took the hint. He opened the car door and stepped out, feeling the warm air. It was a pool party, yes, but he was taking no chances here. He didn't bring any swimming shorts, afraid of what could happen when he was only wearing them.
Turning around to ask Frannie if he could please go home, he saw Frannie wave and drive off.
"Fuck."
"Um, hi?" A voice asked behind him. He turned, startled to focus on the voice. Just his luck - Finn stood there, looking at him with a constipated look. "Do I know you?" He strained to look at him, and Luke could see him trying to think but Luke also knew he wasn't getting anywhere. Though he looked like a Fabray, he didn't look enough like Quinn to be recognized by a person like Finn. In fact, he thinks Frannie was the only person who recognized him like she did because of how close they've always been.
He cleared his throat to gain time and tried to appear aloof, sticking his hands in his jeans' pockets. "No. I'm, um, new around town." He smiled politely and stepped forward, sticking his right hand out at Finn who took it, and they shook. "I'm Luke... Luke Fabray. I'm looking for my cousin, uh, Quinn. I heard she might be here."
Finn immediately lit up. "Of course! Well, I'm just getting here - so I'm not sure if she's here yet. I'm Finn, by the way. She must've told you about me. We used to date?" He spoke so fast it barely gave Luke enough time to follow what he was saying. He just nodded along, trying not to cringe at the memory of ever dating Finn Hudson, sack of potato in a human body. "Come on, I'll walk you in and introduce you to people and stuff." Luke tried not to notice, but he couldn't help and see the way Finn's smile faltered for a bit.
"Are you okay?" He asked before he could help himself. Sure, he couldn't really stand Finn anymore, but he still cared, you know - he was his (well, her) first boyfriend and close friend.
He nudged his sandal at the concrete and shrugged lightly before admitting, "just girl problems." He started walking into the house, and made sure Luke followed him in. He whispered, as if it was a secret, "this is my current girlfriend's house and I'm pretty sure she's going to break up with me today."
It shouldn't have lit him up the way it did, especially if Finn told him in such a sad manner, but Luke had to actively try to hide his smile by placing a hand on his lips. "What makes you say that?" He asked, when he managed to appear serious again.
Stopping right before the kitchen, Finn shook his head, "she's - well, we've been having problems. Besides, I've been a jerk lately."
Well, that's something he didn't have to tell Luke. He knows that all too well from observing their interactions in the hallways. Instead of saying what his instincts told him to, he managed to get out a, "sorry, dude," before he was being thrust into the bright kitchen by Finn's large hand on his back.
"Don't worry. Hey, Rach," He muttered at his girlfriend, but played off with a smile.
The petite brunette's head was in the refrigerator, only her ass sticking out, followed by endless tan legs in the shortest skirt Luke had ever seen. It was neon green and wrapped around her waist, revealing way too much skin. At the sound of Finn's voice, Rachel slammed the refrigerator door shut with a plastered smile and seemed genuinely surprised by the guest. Oh, and that white tank she was wearing was doing nothing to hide her red bikini, barely covering her breasts. Luke could see the outline of her shaped and toned abs. He licked his lips, absent-minded.
"Oh," she said, ignoring Finn's presence and being attracted toward Luke's. "Hi. I - well, hello." She blushed, and dared a glance at Finn, who seemed confused. "I'm Rachel Berry," she grabbed Luke's hand in hers and shook it vehemently. "And you are?"
"Luke," Luke told her. "Luke Fabray." He smiled at the last name, hoping it would cause a reaction on Rachel. And, cause a reaction it did.
Rachel 'ah'd and leaned in, "You're related to Quinn."
"Yes, yes, I am." He admitted. Then, he stuck with the same lie he told Finn earlier. "I'm her cousin. I'm here because I made a surprise visit to her at home, but Frannie said she might be here?"
Finn, at this point, had been completely forgotten. He huffed, drawing both of their attentions back to him. "Rachel, can we go talk?" He sounded petulant and whiny, and Luke literally winced at the tone of voice he used on Rachel. Crossing her arms, Rachel turned to him with her best glare and responded in kind.
"I have a guest, Finn. Don't be rude. Go hang out with the guys outside and we'll talk later."
He looked like a toddler who had been scolded. Suddenly, Luke wondered if Finn wasn't just that - an overgrown toddler. He smirked and held back a laugh.
Rachel gave him her attention again and apologized in behalf of her boyfriend. "I'm so sorry about that," she gestured in the direction the taller boy had gone and chuckled bitterly, "sometimes he acts like -"
"A toddler," Luke finished for her and then looked surprised at the way he finished her sentence. Afraid she might have taken it personally, Luke opened his mouth to take it back but she laughed. A good, hearty laugh.
"Yeah, something like that." The hand she touched on the inside of his elbow made sparks fly every which way on his body. He could feel the sensation run through his veins, straight to his brain, and then directly to his newly acquainted friend. The one between his new, hairy legs. "So, Luke - welcome to the party. I must tell you Quinn isn't here yet but you're more than welcome to attend."
Luke laughed along with the bubbly girl's laugh and then said, "I'm sorry for just crashing your party. But, well, I'd - actually love to make new friends here. I've spent enough time with Quinn in my lifetime." He joked, proud of his wit and - well, it didn't matter that he was the only one who actually got it.
Rachel nodded along and said, "you know, I was hoping she'd be here, but -" she sighed, getting distracted by a fleeting thought. Luke tried to watch for what she might be thinking about his other self in her eyes, but he was unsuccessful. "Anyway!" She clapped her hands together once and they both came crashing down to earth. "Would you like anything to drink? I have root beer, lemonade, tea, and I'm 100% sure that Puck, Santana, and Artie have a secret stash of alcohol in a cooler somewhere in the backyard."
"Water?" He asked, trying not to be much of a nuisance. Besides, he did not know yet if alcohol would have any side effects on his body. Rachel nodded and made her way back to the refrigerator. She pulled out a frosty plastic bottle and handed it over. He thought it might be kind of bothersome to bring it up, but decided to anyway because of the way Rachel seemed to have felt when Quinn's name came up. "So, Quinn? Why did you not expect her to come?" He hated it that Rachel still doubted his - her - intentions of being good friends, real friends... kind of friends. Rachel looked at him with concern - maybe, he thought, she didn't think she should trust him. He uncapped the bottle and tried to seem like it didn't matter much. "Go on, you can tell me."
"Well, I never really know where I stand with her. One day we're friends, the next day we aren't. Sometimes I think there-" there she stopped herself and smiled her fake smile. A smile Quinn, inside of Luke, could recognize very well. "Never mind. I guess I just wish she considered me as much a friend as I consider her, you know?"
Luke's heart melted at the confession and the way Rachel's voice seemed to be laced in honesty, in vulnerability - in hope. It was dripping in the hope of being Quinn's friend. So he told her what he knew was truth, "you're much more than just a friend to her." His voice was soft, raspier than what he had grown used to in the past hours he's been a dude. It reminded him too much of Quinn's voice when she was feeling weakened by Rachel. "Like, dude," he emphasized the word dude, to make it seem legitimate that he was a seventeen-year old teenage boy. "She's always telling me about you. She's generally a hard nut to crack, but once you get in there - she's - " he stopped, looked at Rachel who was listening and hanging on intently to every word he spoke, like it mattered to her. He breathed in and finished, "I think she considers you her best friend."
He could hear Rachel's breath catch in surprise. Then he saw her long lashes flutter at the new information and she blushed profusely. Luke didn't know what brought that on, but he smiled small at the reaction. "She told you this?" Rachel felt the need to ask. She stopped right before the door that lead to the backyard and gave her undivided attention to Luke - her new confidant. "I thought Santana, or like, Brit - maybe; even Mercedes, I thought they'd be her best friends."
The way Rachel was expecting an answer made Luke want to just come out and tell her that they are Quinn's friends, but they don't compare to her. That Rachel was the only constant in Quinn's roller-coaster of a life. That even if sometimes Rachel was upset at her, or when she was upset with Rachel, the girl never faltered; never disappointed. She was present, she was real, she was true. She, Rachel, was the only one who had shown she cared about Quinn through her lows and her highs. "No, Rachel, it's you." Of course, he stayed silent about her also being Quinn's soul mate. Maybe that was too much information for a first meeting.