A/N: Here's today's! As promised, it is longer! Over 500 words! I struggled for a while trying to figure out how to right something Post-Egging, and this just came to me about half-an-hour ago. I went along with it, and I like how it turned out. Hope you do too!
(Any drabble requests? I welcome them!)
Enjoy!
Rachel B. Set after 'Funk'.
She's become almost accustomed to the icy-cold stickiness of a slushie coating her skin and clinging to her hair and clothing. It's never any less terrible than the first time it happened, but she's used to it by now. She's had lots of practice removing it and does so quickly and efficiently, never missing more than half of a class. Her teachers barely notice it when she comes in late anymore. Her projects are always in on time, after all, and she gets good grades. And most of them are old and bitter and don't enjoy teaching much anymore. It's just a job to them, and as such, their care for their students is low or nonexistent.
A slushie to the face is familiar. As familiar as the feel of a damp cloth in her hand as she scrubs graffiti from her locker or the bathroom stalls; as familiar as the sound of the cruel nicknames, 'RuPaul', or 'Man Hands' floating down the hallway at her; as familiar as the rejection that takes complete and total hold of her heart whenever Finn kisses her and runs away.
She used to being slushied; to being bullied; to be rejected by Finn Hudson.
She is not, however, accustomed to the feeling that accompanies the shock as Vocal Adrenaline and the boy she thought she loved (and she thought loved her) throw eggs at her.
They're sticky and slimy in a more disgusting way than slushies are, and the sound they make as they crack against her skin is terrible and alien. Their laughter is sharper than that of any Cheerio or WMHS jock, and the look on Jesse's face as he cracks an egg directly on her forehead makes her feel as though thousands of tiny, icy shards are being impaled into her heart. His words, so out of place for the moment, cause an unfamiliar confusion.
She's not used to being confused by any of the things that are commonly done to her. The jocks do it because they're dumb and often bored, the Cheerios do it because they are spiteful and look down on her, and she knows she'll never be good enough for Finn. Not when he has Quinn to compare her to; even now after the blonde-haired beauty betrayed him. None of those things confuse her; not really. They make her wonder why she isn't good enough, sure . . . but in a sick way she understands the reasoning. (They're bad reasons, but reasons just the same.)
But Jesse . . . how can he say he loved her as he cracks an egg on her head? What did she do to him to make him angry and bitter enough to do this? She's not the one who abandoned him, right? He's the one who walked into her life, made her love him, and walked away abruptly. And now he's the one egging her.
She knows, somewhere inside of her, that this isn't her fault; that this is all on him. But a larger, more prominent part of her – the part that's been beaten down for years, the part that's looked in the mirror and hated what is reflected, the part that's constantly wondering why she isn't good enough – wonders if maybe this is all her fault.
That maybe, just maybe, if she had been better somehow, he wouldn't have left . . .
. . . he wouldn't be pelting her with eggs . . .
. . . and he would still love her.
Maybe . . .
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