Jules-Day: Yeah, he's pretty pathetic.
Guest: It will be updated two weeks then off a week, always on Thursdays. The actual schedule can be found on my tumblr.
Chapter 3 – A Stroke of Luck
As Rachel walked toward the table she shared with Quinn, she tried to think of what to say. Sam had been bugging her for two days to invite the blonde to Glee and she was going to try to do it today to get him to shut up. She loved Sam, but he could be annoyingly persistent sometimes. She couldn't really say anything about it, though, because she was the exact same way; once she set her mind on something, she usually didn't give up until it was done. She just wished Sam was the one doing this."
"Hello, Quinn," Rachel said, walking by.
"Hi," Quinn said, smiling at her.
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Santana mocking her; she tried to ignore it and turned slightly so she couldn't see the Cheerio, but it was hard to ignore. Eventually, she noticed Brittany nudge the other girl and Santana stopped. Rachel would make a joke about Santana being whipped if she didn't want to suffer even more of Santana's wrath.
"I'm so happy it's Friday," Rachel commented.
"Me too," Quinn agreed.
"Are you doing anything fun this weekend?" Rachel asked.
"I don't know," Quinn said, shrugging her shoulders.
"Well, just six classes between now and the weekend," Rachel remarked. "Well, six classes and then I have Glee Club after school, but that's usually fun, whereas classes are more like a chore."
"Are you doing anything this weekend?" Quinn asked before Rachel could ask her about joining them that afternoon.
"Oh—not really," Rachel answered.
"I was thinking that maybe you could come over," Quinn said. "We have that project coming up in two weeks, and I thought maybe we could do it this weekend. I mean, if you don't have anything else to do this weekend. I was just wondering because my sister is coming next weekend, so I thought we could do it early instead of rushing to do it during the week."
"No—I mean, yeah—that would be okay," Rachel replied.
"Does Sunday work?" Quinn asked. "I think my mom and dad might have something planned tomorrow, but I'm free after church on Sunday."
"Sunday's good," Rachel said. "Umm—your house or mine?"
"How about mine?" Quinn suggested. "We have a big backyard, so if whatever we're doing gets messy, we can take it outside."
Rachel nodded. "That's fine."
"Here is my number," Quinn pulled a piece of paper out of her notebook and began writing on it, "and my address. If you need help finding it, just call and I'll give you directions, okay."
"Okay," Rachel said, taking the piece of paper from her.
She had no idea how she just got invited to Quinn's house; she didn't know if Sam was going to be happy that she was getting to know the blonde more or sad that she, once again, didn't invite her to join them for Glee. It would be nice to get their physics project done early, though; she also had something planned for the next weekend, so this would make everything easier. She was just surprised by it, but that was probably because she had ended up completing nearly every school project, so it was nice to have a partner that actually wanted to work on it.
As she slipped the piece of paper into her bag, she smiled. She couldn't wait to see the look on Sam's face when he saw she had Quinn's phone number. Not that she would give it to him—that would just be weird and an invasion of privacy—but because of how annoying he'd been lately, she was going to tease him with it a little bit.
"I still can't believe you didn't invite her," Sam mumbled as Quinn walked past them.
"If you want to invite her so badly, she's right there," Rachel said, motioning to the retreating blonde.
"That wouldn't be at all weird," Sam sarcastically said. "How would you react if some random guy came up to you and asked if you wanted to join the show choir?"
"I would be thrilled, actually," Rachel answered.
"That's because you're weird," Sam replied.
"Enjoying singing and dancing is not being weird," Rachel stated. "By that definition, you would also be considered weird." Rachel paused. "On second thought—"
"Very funny," Sam said, rolling his eyes at her, but he was smiling nonetheless. "I just don't want her to think I'm a big dork or something."
"She's not going to think you're a big dork," Rachel said, sighing.
"You're right, and that's because you're going to invite her, not me," Sam said, smiling at her.
"Do you even want to know why I didn't get the chance to invite her?" Rachel asked.
She had been waiting for him to ask all day—she'd really expected it to be the first question out of his mouth—but he still hadn't, so she was just going to bring it up herself.
Sam shrugged. "You chickened out?"
Rachel scoffed. "I'll have you know, I didn't chicken out. And you're one to talk; you won't even talk to her."
"Okay, fine—why didn't you ask her?" Sam asked.
"Well, I tried," Rachel said, pulling her bag around to reach in it. "I had just mentioned Glee and I was about to ask her when she asked what I was doing this weekend." Rachel pulled out the piece of paper. "She gave me her phone number and address because I'm going to her house on Sunday to get an early start on our physics project."
"No way!" Sam said, his eyes widening. "Can I see that?"
"No," Rachel said, pulling it out of his grasp.
"Come on," Sam whined.
"Even if I gave you her number, what would you do with it?" Rachel asked. "You won't even speak to her when you're at school together, so do you really think you would ever call her?"
Sam's face fell. "Probably not. This might be good, though. You'll get to know her better and maybe you can even find out what type of music she doesn't like for when she finally comes. This is great, actually! You can find out what she's like and let me know."
"I'm not going to spy on her!" Rachel said.
"Who are we spying on?" Tina asked, coming up beside them.
"No one," Rachel said pointedly.
"Are you spying on the new girl?" Tina asked Sam.
"No," Sam replied.
"He's just trying to get me to," Rachel remarked.
"It's not spying exactly," Sam argued. "I just want Rachel to find out what she likes and stuff."
"I think that's spying, Sam," Tina said, laughing.
Sam scowled. "We're going to be late."
Rachel and Tina laughed, and the latter said, "Since when are you worried about being late?"
"He's not," Rachel replied. "Sam just wants out of this conversation."
"Look, I'm—"
Sam was cut off with a splash, and before Rachel knew what was happening, she felt the sting of an icy drink hitting her in the face. She heard Tina let out a little shriek and knew all of three of them must have been hit.
"Oh, sorry; I hope that doesn't make you late for your little gay club," she heard Karofsky say followed by what sounded like high-fives.
Rachel thought she would eventually get used to being hit in the face with a slushy, but every time was just as bad as the last. Everyone thought it was so funny, but most people didn't seem to realize—or didn't care—how much it hurt. The initial hit was like a punch to the stomach and always made her lose her breath. Then the liquid would slowly soak into her clothes, chilling her to the core. Not to mention the humiliation of it all; they always seemed to do it when the hallways were full, and Rachel could only assume it was to maximize the embarrassment of the situation.
She heard Sam sputtering next to her and put one hand on his arm as she wiped at her face with the other. "Let's get cleaned up."
"I don't have any clothes with me," Tina said. "I forgot to bring some to replace the ones from yesterday."
"I have more than one spare in my locker," Rachel replied.
She turned on her heel, trying not to slip on the mess that covered the floor, and walked back to her locker. She kept three sets of clothes in there for this very occasion, and because once during her sophomore year they managed to get her three times in one day. At the time she only brought two changes of clothes and had to walk around half the day in a red strained dress.
"I'll be right back," Sam said as he walked past to go to his locker.
Rachel quickly entered her combination and opened her locker. Not only was she eager to get out of these clothes as fast as possible, but they were going to be late for Glee, and she wanted to minimize the amount of time they were tardy.
As she grabbed her bag of clothing, she looked down the hall, toward the bathroom, and locked eyes with Quinn. Rachel wondered how much the blonde saw, but judging by the look of concern on her face, Rachel assumed she saw the whole thing.
"Are you going to go?" Sam asked.
Rachel hummed and looked over her shoulder; Sam and Tina were both looking at her. "Yes, sorry."
She shut her locker and walked to the nearest bathroom. Once inside, she and Tina checked the stalls to make sure no one was in them, and then Rachel walked to the door to let Sam know the bathroom was clear and he could come inside.
Rachel was staring up as Quinn's house as she had been for several minutes. Her house was nice, but Quinn's house was even nicer and definitely larger. Her family was clearly wealthy and Rachel wondered what Quinn's father did for a living that brought them to Lima.
She cleared her throat and quit gawking long enough to walk the rest of the way up to the house and ring the bell. She half expected a butler to greet her, but when the door opened, a woman was standing on the other side. Rachel guessed she was Quinn's mom; she had the same blonde hair and looked like a middle-aged version of Quinn.
"You must be Rachel," the woman said, smiling at her. "I'm Judy Fabray."
"Hello, Mrs. Fabray," Rachel said, smiling back.
"Please, call me Judy," she said, ushering Rachel into the house. "Quinn is in her—"
"I'm here," Quinn called out as she walked toward them. "Sorry, I didn't hear the doorbell. Hey, Rachel"
"Hello, Quinn," the brunette said, giving the younger Fabray a smile.
"What's all that?" Quinn asked, nodding to the bag in Rachel's hands.
Rachel followed her gaze, looking down at her hands. "Oh, well—I hope you don't mind, but I took it upon myself to look online for something that would demonstrate a principle in physics as Mr. Jacobson instructed, and then I went to the store this morning and purchased the materials we would need. If you would prefer to do something else, though, it is all returnable, so don't hesitate to let me know."
Judy smiled and looked at Quinn as she said, "I like her."
Rachel heard the door open and close behind her and a man say, "Sorry I'm late. Who is this?"
"My physics partner, Daddy," Quinn answered.
"Oh, right—I knew that," he said with a laugh.
"This is Rachel," Quinn introduced.
"Call me Russell," Quinn's father said. "Say, what's your last name?"
"Berry," Rachel answered.
"I don't think I've met any Berrys yet," Russell said. "What do your parents do?"
Rachel cleared her throat nervously. It was common knowledge that she had two fathers, but she was always a little apprehensive of telling people she had just met. She never knew when people were going to have a less than positive reaction. She wasn't ashamed of her family, though, and she wasn't going to lie about them.
"My father, Leroy is a pharmacist," Rachel cleared her throat again, "and my other father, Hiram, teaches philosophy at the local college."
She caught Quinn's eye and wondered what the blonde was thinking, but her face was unreadable.
"Oh, well, I'll be sure to keep an eye out for them," Russell said, giving her a smile.
"Would you like anything to drink before you and Quinnie get started?" Judy asked.
"No thank you," Rachel replied.
"Come on," Quinn said. "Let's go to my room; you can show me this project you found."
"I think you'll like it," Rachel commented as she followed her up the stairs. "It looks like it will be fun but not overly difficult or time consuming."
"Can I ask you something?"
Rachel looked up and shrugged. "Sure."
"What the hell was that Friday?" Quinn asked.
"Are you asking about what happened in the hallway at school?" Rachel asked.
Quinn nodded. "Yeah."
"He just walked up to you and threw a drink at you," Quinn said, sounding a bit incredulous.
"It was a slushy," Rachel informed. "And that wasn't the first time that has happened and, although I wish it were the case, I doubt it will be the last time."
"That's happened to you before?" Quinn asked.
"Usually at least twice a week," Rachel replied. "I seem to be Karofsky's favorite target."
"And no one does anything about it?" Quinn said.
"I have gone to Principal Figgins on more than one occasion about it, but he usually says he has more important things to contend with," Rachel replied.
Quinn scoffed. "Why do none of the teachers do anything?"
"I presume it's because they are all afraid of Coach Sylvester," Rachel commented. "She's the cheerleading coach and no one wants to get her cheerleaders in trouble because they would have to deal with her. They're usually the reason for the slushies, though not the entire reason; I do believe the football team gets way too much enjoyment out of carrying out the act, so sometimes they simply do it for their own pleasure."
"That's crazy," Quinn said, shaking her head.
"I'll agree that it is completely unfair, and in any other school, it would not be tolerated," Rachel stated. "With the way McKinley is, though, I'm surprised something even worse hasn't happened. The school is completely divided into the popular students—the cheerleaders and football players being at the top—and the unpopular students."
"Yeah, I've noticed," Quinn said.
"Because of our position in Glee Club, my friends and I are the prime targets," Rachel continued. "The members of the football team seem to think that being in a club where you sing and dance automatically equates with you being gay, and being as close-minded as they are, they have a problem with that."
"I don't understand," Quinn said, furrowing her brows. "Isn't Puck and Santana and Brittany and all their friends in there with you?"
"They are," Rachel replied.
"So—why don't they get treated the same way you and your friends do?" Quinn asked.
"Because they were popular to begin with," Rachel answered. "Don't get me wrong, when they first joined they got a bit of harassment from the football players, but most of them are too afraid of Noah and Santana to really do anything. Santana did get a slushy thrown in her face one time, but it never happened again; I strongly suspect she did something to him." Rachel sighed. "The Glee Club is divided just like the rest of the school. We may all sing and dance together, but we don't intermingle unless we're on stage."
"Why did they even join in the first place if people look down on it so much?" Quinn asked.
"Finn was the first to join," Rachel said. "I don't actually know why, but it had something to do with Mr. Schue, our show choir director. I assume Noah joined because he and Finn are best friends. I think Brittany joined because she really seems to love to dance, and where she goes, Santana goes. Mike and another football player, Matt, joined because—well, it's a long story, but we helped the football team with something, and they both seemed to enjoy it, so they stayed around. Matt transferred schools before our junior year, though, so you don't know him."
"I still can't believe no one does anything about it," Quinn said, shaking her head.
"I know," Rachel replied. "I think I'm sort of used to the way things are now, though; obviously I don't like it, but I'm used to it."
"You shouldn't have to get used to that," Quinn said softly.
"I know," Rachel whispered, sighing.
She knew it wasn't fair, but she had accepted long ago that this is how things were going to be while she was still in high school. It made her all the more determined to get out Lima, though, and move to New York City. Part of the reason she was so determined to make it was because she wanted to be able to show everyone that their words and actions couldn't bring her down.
"This is a little more time consuming than I anticipated," Rachel commented, looking at what they had done so far and how much they still had to do.
"Maybe we should take a break," Quinn suggested. "We have been doing this for several hours, and I don't know about you, but I'm getting a little tired."
"That's probably a good idea," Rachel agreed. "Maybe if we take a break it will refresh our minds and make us more productive."
Quinn laughed lightly. "I'm going down to the kitchen; do you want anything?
"A water would be lovely," Rachel replied.
"I'll be right back," Quinn said, standing.
Rachel stood as well and watched Quinn leave the room. She stretched her arms over head and looked to her left as a light caught her eyes. She reached down, grabbing her phone, and saw that Sam was calling her. She wondered how many times he'd tried calling; she put her phone on silence so she and Quinn could work in peace.
"Hello, Sam," Rachel said as she answered her phone.
"Dude, I've been calling you for, like, thirty minutes," Sam said in lieu of a greeting.
"I told you that Quinn and I were going to be working on our physics project for most of the day," Rachel said, rolling her eyes at him even though he wasn't in the room to see it.
"I know," Sam stated. "Why do you think I'm calling?"
"Well, I was hoping it would be because you wanted to talk to your best friend and not because you were snooping on what Quinn's house it like," Rachel replied.
"Yeah—how are you?" Sam asked.
Rachel laughed. "Sam, I know you didn't call to check on how I was doing."
"Fine, that's not why I called," Sam replied. "How's the project going, though?"
"It's going okay," Rachel said, sighing. "We've had a few problems, but we're working through it, and I think we'll be done by the end of the day."
"Cool," Sam replied.
"We're taking a short break now to recharge," Rachel continued. "She's downstairs at the moment, presumably getting snacks."
"Where are you?" Sam asked.
"Her bedroom," Rachel answered.
"What's it like?" Sam asked, sounding way too excited.
"Samuel Evans, I am not going to invade her privacy by telling you what her bedroom is like," Rachel said, huffing. "I am ashamed that you would ask that and slightly appalled that you actually thought I would answer such a question." Rachel paused and listened to footsteps coming up the stairs. "She's coming back; I have to go. And, Sam, my phone is going to be on silent so don't call me. I'll call you as soon as I get home to let you know I'm done."
Rachel hung up the phone just as Quinn came through the door.
"Were you on the phone or talking to yourself?" Quinn asked, but Rachel assumed by her smile that she was joking.
"Apparently my best friend has been calling me for the past thirty minutes," Rachel said. "I don't know why, though; I told Sam I was going to be here today, and he knows me well enough to know I would turn my phone off as to not be interrupted."
"Sam—is that the blonde guy I see you with?" Quinn asked, handing Rachel a bottle of water.
"Sam Evans," Rachel said, nodding. "Yes, that's him. He's a junior; he transferred to McKinley last year and we became friends after he joined Glee. He was on the football team, but because of a few incidents, one of which involved him helping me, he decided to give it up. He's really sweet—and talented, too; he can sing and play the guitar. His dancing could use a little work, though." Rachel laughed lightly and looked down at the bottle in her hand. "Thank you for the water, by the way."
Quinn smiled. "You're welcome."
"So, would you like to continue taking a break or get back to work?" Rachel asked.
Quinn shrugged. "We should probably get back to work. Who knows how long this is going to take."
"I know," Rachel said, frowning. "I think I picked the wrong project."
"It's fine," Quinn said, smiling softly.
"I will not blame you if you would like to choose a different partner next time," Rachel commented.
"Maybe I can just be the one to pick the project," Quinn replied.
Rachel smiled. "That also works."
"Sam, what are you doing here?" Rachel asked, stopping in her tracks when she saw the blonde headed boy sitting on her stoop.
Sam shrugged. "I was bored."
"How long have you been sitting outside my door?" Rachel asked.
"Not long," Sam replied. "Maybe an hour."
"Sam, I told you I would call you as soon as I got home," Rachel said, shaking her head.
"I know, but I was bored and didn't feel like waiting at home," Sam replied. "Plus, I thought your dads would be home and I could just hang with them until you got home."
"They were spending the day in Columbus," Rachel told him. "They have tickets to some show tonight, so they decided to go early and do some shopping and stuff."
"Oh," Sam said, looking a little sheepish. "So, how did it go today?"
"I'm actually surprised you managed to wait a whole minute to ask me," Rachel said, laughing.
Sam smiled. "I didn't think you'd be happy if it was the first thing out of my mouth."
"You're right," Rachel said, unlocking the door, and opening it.
"Seriously, though—how'd it go?" Sam asked, following her into the house.
"It went fairly well," Rachel replied. "After we took a break and went back to working on the project, we finally realized why it wasn't working, so we were able to fix it. The rest of it went much quicker and we managed to get it done." She looked at Sam. "But that's not what you're asking about, is it?"
"It's not like I don't care that you guys do good on your project," Sam replied.
Rachel smiled. "But—"
"But—did you invite her to Glee?" Sam asked, smiling widely.
"No, Sam, I did not," Rachel replied. "But at least she knows who you are now."
"She knows who I am?" Sam said, looking hopeful.
"She overheard us talking on the phone, so I explained to her that I was talking to you," Rachel replied. "Then I not so subtly told her a little bit about you."
"What did you tell her?" Sam asked excitedly.
"That you are a junior and you came to McKinley last year," Rachel recalled. "And that you are in Glee and used to be on the football team, but you decided to be all heroic and save me, which resulted in you quitting the team."
"Did you tell her I can sing?" Sam asked.
"I did," Rachel said with a nod.
"You're the best," Sam said, pulling Rachel into a tight hug. "I'm going to totally owe you."
"And I am going to remind you one day that you said that," Rachel said, laughing as she hugged him back.
Thoughts? Questions? Reviews are always appreciated.
