So here's Chapter 2... yay =D. Sorry it takes me so long, i'm a dreadful person, please feel to beat me with sticks to get me moving.
Mmm, just a few things. First: THANK YOU! to everyone who reviewed, it's great that people like this and the way I write Quinn. She's my favourite characters, so it's nice to know i haven't got the wrong end of the stick and can portray her well =). Secondly, just incase people get at all confused, I am writing this in the way it was intended to be broadcast, i.e. Theatricality comes AFTER Funk.
Chapter 2 Me and Mrs Jones
How I ended up here I'm still not entirely certain. Then again, that seems to be the story of my recent life, so I guess it's pretty in-keeping really.
Just a couple of days ago I was lying in bed at Puck's house, after a particularly long and heated argument with his mother – I said some things I immediately felt bad about, then she called me a whore, and suddenly I didn't regret saying what I did anymore – basically I was wishing I was anywhere but there. Two days later, here I am; standing in a brightly coloured living room, animal patterns everywhere, and Mercedes' mother smiling kindly at me in the doorframe from the kitchen.
I've not moved out of Puck's – not yet anyway – but Mercedes said she wanted me to make sure I'd be at home here before I pack up and relocate my life for the third time in as many months. It was totally unnecessary though, I can tell from being here only a few minutes that I can be happy here; I honestly can't imagine a more welcoming scene. I can even smell cookies. Seriously. I thought her father was a dentist… I guess he just makes sure they all brush their teeth thoroughly after sugary snacks. Why am I even worrying about this?
I guess I'm just nervous. It's not everyday a girl you terrorised for a good portion of your high school career brings you into her house – looking very pregnant – to meet her parents, so you can discuss moving into their home, because you're clearly completely unwelcome where you're currently staying – not to mention unable to go a day without being insulted – and seriously if you have to sit through one more game of 'Super Mario Brothers' you're going to hurl the damn console, hard, across the room, towards the head of the father of your baby!
Oh… I think that's what they call pent up frustration – I was not lying when I said I was furious enough for Phunk – but this can't be good for the baby. Hence, why I need to get out of that house. Stat.
"Are you okay sweetheart,"
I look up to see Mrs Jones looking at me worriedly, and Mercedes hovering next to me. It suddenly occurs to me that I must have been silently staring at the floor for a few minutes now. Great first impression Quinn, I can already feel the embarrassed blush creeping across my face.
"No, I..." Good start. Come on, were you the popular head cheerleader or weren't you? You used to chant and hick kick in front of hundreds of people, you used to bark out orders to a group of girls who were easily just as intimidating as you; when did it become so hard to speak to two friendly faces? "I mean, yes, I'm fine Mrs Jones, thank you,"
"You sure?" Mercedes asks from beside me. I nod at her and hold up my hands with a smile, it's only then I realise my right hand had subconsciously rested on my stomach… that's what I get for worrying about stressing out the baby, combined with my staring into space, no wonder they look worried.
"I'm fine," I turn my smile on Mrs Jones; "I'm sorry I was off in a world of my own." she smiles back kindly.
"You have a lovely home," I venture after a few moments of silence pass. Well, that was a kind of a stupid thing to say. It's like when you start learning another language and you learn all these really simplistic phrases to say when you meet someone (Usted tiene una casa encantadora, Mr Schue would be proud huh?), and it's nothing like what you'd actually say if you were speaking English, yet right now those seem to be the only phrases my brain wants to supply me with.
Mrs Jones laughs and I can see Mercedes lifting an eyebrow at me in that 'girl you did not just say that' kind of way that I could never pull off. I must be completely red by this point, my face is actually burning. I try again; third time lucky maybe?
"Sorry," I say quickly, well aware of how shy I must be coming across "Uh, It's really nice to meet you Mrs Jones,"
"It's lovely to finally meet you too Quinn," She replies as her laughter dies down, "I've heard all about you from Mercy here of course,"
'Mercy' rolls her eyes and says "Mom, please," I just look back at my feet – or in their general direction, I can't really see my feet anymore, unless I kind of tilt forward – I'm kind of hoping that she hasn't really heard all about me. A small 'oh' is all I can manage in reply.
"Now, don't you be looking all ashamed," Mrs Jones scolds lightly, "I know what high school can be like, I was a teenager once too. What's past is past, it's who you are now that matters, and I have you to thank for talking my daughter off a frankly dangerous diet." She turns a critical eye on Mercedes, her voice rising slightly in pitch and volume "Do you know how much you scared me huh? Comin' home, and askin' for a salad. Salad! Then I get the school on the phone, sayin' you collapsed…"
I can't help but giggle a little as Mercedes moves to defend herself. My mom and I never bantered like this; she was always too prim to be seen raising her voice and joking around.
I feel a pang in my heart as I see her face in my mind, wearing the expression she had on as she walked out after my father, leaving me and Finn stood in our perfect living room; the expression she wore as she abandoned her daughter. Angrily I push the memory aside, focussing on the scene in front of me. I've already worried them once; I don't need to start tearing up on top of that. Eventually they seem to remember I'm still there and Mrs Jones holds her hands up to signal the end of the discussion.
"Sorry Quinn honey," She smiles at me again, she does that a lot "Listen, why doesn't Mercy show you where you'd be sleepin', you girls can hang out for a bit, and then you can come back in…" She glances over to the clock on the wall "… say a half an hour, Harry'll be back by then, and we can sit down and get to know each other over dinner?" Rather overwhelmed, and not really trusting myself to speak, I simply nod an affirmative and look over to Mercedes. She rolls her eyes at me with a small grin and grasps my arm, tugging me in the direction of the stairs.
Life with the Jones's is better than I could ever have hoped for when Mercedes first suggested the idea. I'm not just saying that because the first night I stayed there they gave me bacon; though it helped. Do you have any idea what it's like to crave something during pregnancy, when you live with people who won't have it in the house? The first weekend at Puck's, I got a bacon sandwich when I was out shopping, and Puck's mother shouted at me for like, an hour about bringing the smell in.
Anyway, it isn't just because of that; it's everything about being here.
It amazes me just how quickly they have accepted me into their life, as if I just slotted in like a missing piece. I soon lost my shyness around them and for the first time in a long time I've been able to be myself – not the bitchy cheerleader, not the pregnant teenager or the lonely ex-girlfriend, just myself, Quinn Fabray; frankly it's a relief.
Having Mercedes for, and there's no other way to describe her, a sister is perhaps the best thing about it. She doesn't fret about me all the time, but she's always there when I need her… I think girls are just better at the whole comfort thing, maybe we're just naturally more empathetic or something. Still, I could never have gone to Santana the way I can talk to Mercedes – I have to train myself out of copying her mother and calling her Mercy, she really hates that. Honestly, I never really used to do the whole heart to heart thing. I mean, me and some of the cheerio's would gossip and talk about boys, and if one of us got dumped we'd sob and everyone else would call the guy a loser or insinuate that he must be gay or whatever; but it was all rather heartless. Every one of us knew that once we'd left, it would be us they talked about, because we'd done exactly the same to them at one time or another. If I even tried to tell one of my friends something private, I could say with a good degree of certainty that most of the school would know within a few. With Mercedes I know what I say is going nowhere. I suppose this is what having a real best friend is like. We talk about nothing at all most of the time, by the end of our conversations, I can't even remember what we'd been talking about at the start – we rehearse for Glee club together as well. It shocks me that Mercedes doesn't get more solo's, I mean I've always thought her voice was pretty amazing, but now I've seen the work she puts into practise… I think she deserves a little more credit than she gets really.
Wow I sound corny right now… I bet if my self from nine months ago could see me now, she'd shake her head in disgust, though an upshot might be that she'd probably be a little more sensible about birth control. She might even forgo sleeping with Puck altogether. Huh. Just a few weeks ago that was something I would give anything for, the one event I would change in my life if I could go back in time. Now I'm not so sure. I thought I had everything – like I told Mr Schuester: I was head cheerleader, popular, perfect figure, quarter back boyfriend, head of the celibacy club – everything, in short, that a girl could hope for from high school. But now I can't help but be glad about it sometimes…
Every part of it – being pregnant, getting kicked off the Cheerio's, losing my reputation… even losing Finn – it changed me; for the better I think. I like the person I am now; I don't think I've ever been able to say that before. When you're a cheerleader, and the most popular girl in school, there's always something wrong, even if it doesn't really register as a problem at the time… maybe your hair is definitely looking like straw, or you're sure your nose is off centre… your happiness rests on trivial things like whether that geek moved out of your way fast enough, or trusting your boyfriend not to join a club that'll make him unpopular (which will reflect badly on you). Some days I'm surprised Finn didn't leave me earlier than he did.
"Daydreaming again Quinn?"
I hear Mercedes say from the door into my room – her brothers room – no, my room. She sounds amused, and I know why. It's become a pastime that the whole family enjoys, calling me out when I start zoning out. When you have only Puck and his video-games for company in the evening, for weeks at a time, you have to start these long internal monologues just to keep from going insane. I wonder if that's counter-productive or something? I nod my head slightly and smile at her. She grins back and comes to sit beside me on my bed.
"I don't know how you do it sometimes," She says, shaking her head, "This house isn't exactly quiet,"
That's certainly true. When it's not Mercedes (and me of course) practising for Glee club, or testing out which music the baby likes best, it's her father singing off key somewhere else – or her mother clattering around in the kitchen, shouting at various inanimate objects. The neighbours have this little yappy dog that never shuts up, and three kids who encourage him. Right now I can hear loud thumping music coming from somewhere down the street, and Mercedes's mother just shouted at the kids next door for – so it seems – kicking a ball at the windows.
"Thinking about Puck?" Mercedes ventured softly. My head shot up at that; honestly I hadn't given Puck much of a thought at all. I suppose I should have, after yesterday's Glee rehearsal, but it just hasn't crossed my mind today. After sitting up all last night, I think I've already thought everything I can about it. I guess maybe I should be thinking more about it; honestly though I don't want to. Does that make me a bad person? My hand does its usual annoying automatic response, and heads straight for my baby bump, and I see Mercedes expression soften. She must have mistaken my confusion for surprise at being caught out, or something. Not wanting to seem heartless or something, and also a little embarrassed to say what I was really thinking, I just nod.
"It was sweet of him I guess," She says, "But you seemed really down afterwards,"
Well considering I didn't stop sobbing for much of the ride home, that's probably a massive understatement.
"I…" Closing my eyes I have flashbacks of marching angrily through a corridor, Finn following behind me, confused. "I'm not keeping it… I mean her… God," I sigh loudly, letting my head fall into my hands. I went through all this last night too, but Mrs Jones keeps saying it helps to talk it out… and I know Mercedes won't judge me. She sits there quietly, letting me get myself together.
"I can't keep her, Mercedes," I say finally, "I'm sixteen, and I've been thrown out of my parent's house, I have no idea how to support myself; never mind a baby. It's not fair on her, it's certainly not fair on you and your parents, it's not fair on Puck," 'Or Finn' my mind supplies.
"You're forgetting you," Mercedes says after a moment, and I look up at her, surprised. She smiles and raises an eyebrow, "Look Quinn. You said it yourself, you're sixteen, nobody is going to judge you for giving up a baby; it's not fair for anyone to assume you should have to shoulder that kind of responsibility. Hell my brother's in college, and he can't even roll socks up right, never mind be a father," I offer her a weak smile for that, honestly I've been trying to avoid telling even myself that this is unfair to me since the day Finn found out, I've hurt so many people because of this… I guess I came to see the pain it caused me as something I deserved.
"Is that what this is about, you think Puck wants you to keep her?"
I shake my head, "I know Puck wants to keep her… but he'll respect my wishes. It's just…" my voice trails off again, but when Mercedes dips her head in a silent question I take a deep breath and start over again; because I need to get this out of my system.
"I just hoped I could get through this, without making her familiar," I say, hearing my voice crack and feeling my eyes begin to burn, "I always called her 'the baby' but now," I swipe furiously at a tear that rolls down my cheek, "Now he wants to give her a name… and it's just like with Finn, only this time, it's more real, because it's so close… when Finn wanted to name her, I didn't even have a baby bump, I could almost pretend he was naming some non-existent child that we might have in the future, but this time… with Puck… it's only a month and a half away," I whispered the last part. Every time I look at the calendar on the wall, hanging beside my theatricality costume, I'm reminded of just how close my due date actually is; and it terrifies me.
"I thought it would be easy, you know," I say after a few moments of silence, during which Mercedes slipped an arm around my shoulders in comfort. I sniff slightly and look round at her. "Giving her up," I clarify, "I thought I'd just have her and give her away and go back to my life, and never worry about it again. I wouldn't even know her name," it all sounds so stupid now I've said it out loud, how the hell had I expected to get through nine months without getting attached, how could anyone?
"Then Puck does this really, sweet thing, and asks me to name her Beth… I'm already an emotional wreck as it is and at that moment I was caught up in his, I dunno; uncharacteristic thoughtfulness?" I venture, seeing Mercedes smile slightly, "So I agreed, but now… now I'm where I was before, the same place as when Finn tried, and I… want to take it back, but I don't want to hurt Puck's feelings. I've hurt so many people already," I lapse into silence again, neglecting to mention that the business of naming her has not only made the memories of Finn's attempt resurface, it's also been making me compare names.
"Quinn," Mercedes begins after a few minutes, "This is your baby, and your life. If you aren't comfortable giving her a name, if you think it'll make things easier, then just don't," I turn to her again, letting a small smile tug on my face.
"How can you be on my side all the time, after… everything," I ask.
"Because you've changed Quinn," She answers immediately, "Because you've had to go through this huge experience, and it could have made you ten times worse, but you let it make you a better person. I think you've punished yourself enough as it is. You're my friend, and I want to support you in this, someone has to be on your side because you clearly aren't. You're not a bad person Quinn."
I watch her closely as she speaks, as if waiting for some kind of catch, and as the last of her words hit me, I await an ominous 'but'… but, none comes, and suddenly I realise that I'm crying again.
Mercedes stands up suddenly, and grabs both my hands to pull me up as well. "Come on," She orders, "Clean your face up, we're gonna go shopping," and with that she strides out of the room and shouts down to her parents that we're going out. I wipe the last of my tears away on the back of my hand, move towards the desk where I keep my make up and set about making myself presentable; feeling the weight slipping off my shoulders as I move.