"Stop bouncing your leg."
"I can't."
Quinn's hand rests on top of my right thigh and it effectively stops my motions short.
The forecast called for snow but what's the point of watching the weather when they're never right. It's so like the meteorologists to lie to me. It's drizzling lightly and coating everything it falls on. The windshield wipers are systematically moving every few seconds while the heat pours into the interior of the darkened town car.
"Stop cracking your knuckles," she demands softly.
"I can't."
Her hand leaves my thigh and comes up so she can thread her fingers through mine. She brings both of our hands to once again rest on my thigh before it starts bouncing again.
Charles maneuvers through the city streets as if he's been driving them his entire life. He's from the mid-west so naturally I know he hasn't been doing this forever. When he was telling me about his old life, I imagined him riding around on a tractor and it still makes me giggle to picture him in something other than his black suit. How he can be so calm while driving is absolutely a testament to the easy going lifestyle that he left behind before moving out here with his wife so she could pursue an art career. He doesn't even honk if someone cuts him off, and I don't think I've ever heard him use profanity. God help the state of New York if I were to ever need to get behind the wheel for some reason. I don't think any pedestrian would be safe from my road rage and absolute blinding terror. It's part of my appeal.
"Stop gnawing your lip."
"I can't."
She wiggles her hand out of mine, it takes her a few seconds and it's probably because I have her in a white knuckled grip of death. She turns my chin with her pointer finger until I'm face to face with her. Her lips capture mine and I feel all the anxiety and nervousness flee my body as our lips delicately glide against each other. She knows exactly what to do at all times and it's frightening in the best way possible.
I'm faintly aware of the black divider going up. Charles tends to give us our privacy and I've never been more grateful.
She pulls back but keeps me close.
"Everything will be fine."
I want to believe her because she's never been wrong before but it's a little hard when there are so many possible things that could go wrong.
She must see my hesitancy because she wraps her arm around my shoulder and pulls me into her.
She kisses the top of my head, "I promise you, okay? I already told you that I'd be on my best behavior."
I laugh and tilt my head up to look at her. She seems sincere and I know it's because she actually is sincere.
"I know you will. It's him that I'm worried about."
She purses her lips into a small frown.
"We don't have to do this."
It wasn't my idea in the first place but it's one of those things that seem unavoidable. Especially if I want to show her how serious I am about her.
I reach up and kiss her bottom lip.
"We need to."
The car rolls to a stop and her grip around me tightens. I wonder if she felt me tense when Charles put the car in park.
She gets out of the car first and waits until I'm on the sidewalk before we begin walking. I know that my assistant can sometimes be a whack job but I'm seriously grateful for her obsession with disguising her voice in order to throw off gossip reporters. There's not a soul in sight. Quinn guides me into the restaurant and we're both led to the private table that's set up in the back.
Jesse stands when he sees us and I can already tell that he's not amused by the bombardment.
"You told me the added seat was for your assistant," he states dryly.
Yeah, he's pissed.
It's weird that he remains a gentleman even when he's mad. He gives me a kiss on my cheek before he pulls the chair out for me. I glance to Quinn out of the corner of my eye and see her deflate slightly. I wonder if she's upset that he's doing all the things she wishes she could do.
"Jesse," Quinn nods.
"Well if it isn't the devil herself."
Okay, yeah. No.
"This was a bad idea. Let's go, Quinn," I rise up from the chair. I haven't even been able to unbutton my coat and already I know this is a disaster waiting to happen.
I don't know what alternate reality I was living in that made me believe this would remain civil. Jesse can be wicked when he knows he has the upper hand and clearly he believes that he does.
"It's fine," she tells me as she takes her seat.
Jesse smirks and sits down across from us at the small square table. I shoot him a warning glare. He was blindsided by tonight's extra guest and I didn't get a chance to give him some kind of talk that went along the lines of threatening his entire collection of platinum albums should he upset Quinn in any way.
The three of us get comfortable in our chairs and I can already tell it's going to be a long night. I wonder if Quinn will let me have some kind of tequila. I glance at her from behind my oversized menu and she's expressionless, as if she's not in the middle of what's sure to be a bigger travesty than a Barbara Walters interview. I would know.
"Rach, I ordered us a bottle of wine."
Well that settles the drink dilemma. But, he should probably order two more.
"Thank you."
"Quinn, I'm not sure that they have holy water on the menu."
I drop my menu and it rattles the silverware next to my plate.
"That's enough."
He holds his hands up in surrender. He's acting like an older brother and it's a real pain in my ass.
He leans back in his seat, I presume he already knows what he's getting. If he gets chicken fingers again I swear to God I'm going to shove them down his throat.
"It's good to see you though, Rachy, it's been what? Two months? I imagine you've been pretty busy," I watch his eyes settle on Quinn's and I instantly feel myself grow protective, "Probably in the recording studio, huh?" his knowing smile unsettles me.
I want to grab her hand under the table but I know there is no way to do it without bringing attention to ourselves. She makes me feel safe and even though she's two short feet away from me, it isn't enough right now.
This is literal torture.
I clear my throat as I look over the menu again, "Yes, I've been doing a lot of writing and recording."
It's not a complete lie. I've had sudden inspiration in my life. Quinn's kind of my muse.
"Good, I'm glad to hear it. You've got to get back out there, it's been almost a year since your last album. You need a big comeback."
I internally roll my eyes because I'm afraid if I actually do it then I'll lose my place on the menu. I've already been distracted enough to re-read the first entrée three times without retaining any of it.
"I know Jess, how many times have we had this conversation?"
"Well it's your career. Especially after this latest scandal," the way he says it has traces of disgust in it and I know it's aimed towards Quinn, "It's important to let your fans know that you're not going anywhere."
Where would I even go? I can't even go for a walk without being seen or photographed. I'm pretty sure my fans know that I'm still alive and well.
"Speaking of scandals," he continues, "Heard about your little press release last week. That was clever."
Ah yes, the press release. It went far better than anyone intended. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing. Time will tell.
"Yeah thanks."
"So you expect me to believe that you're only acquaintances?"
I knew that it wouldn't suffice someone like Jesse.
"Why is that so hard to believe?"
"You don't forgive easily," he answers simply.
Quinn is silently looking over her menu in the seat next to me as if she's not listening with rapt attention. She's been acting indifferent this entire time but I felt her shift at his last statement. Quinn has known me since kindergarten and she knew me when I forgave too easily. It's just a weird feeling that I'm probably reading too much into but I have a strange sensation that she's regretting something. Whether it's breaking me down so much in the past that I stopped forgiving or it's missing the part of my life that allowed Jesse to know me better.
"I forgave your dumb ass."
He gasps and his jaw drops in mock hurt, "I brought you closer to your mother, but I guess Quinn did that too, with Beth and all."
"Tread very lightly St. James."
He acknowledges my warning but continues anyway, "It's hard to believe because you're the one that told me Quinn has had a crush on you since high school and that she basically admitted it when you were in Ohio. You're going to tell me that you're not fucking?"
I wince at his word choice.
Quinn turns to look at me probably feeling a little troubled that I told Jesse about the behind the scenes nonsense that we've had to overcome. Jesse smiles when he sees the reaction he's gotten.
"You're starting trouble and I'm advising you to knock it off before I connect my fist to your nose."
I've been working on my use of profanity. In actuality, I wanted to tell him to shut the fuck up before I stabbed him in the eye with my stiletto.
Normally when I threaten his nose he backs off, I guess he's finally starting to see through my hollowed threats.
"So Quinn, tell me, is Rachel the first patient you've taken advantage of? I imagine this is sort of your thing?"
Quinn's jawbone is working overtime to keep her emotions in check. She's trying hard to behave and it's only because she's seen the state I've been in all day about this dinner. She's not the same girl from high school, she normally takes what people throw at her because in some weird way she believes she deserves it. Only when she's drinking does she fire back with an attitude that would rival that of a sophomore head cheerleader who is only protecting herself. I expected her to fly off the handle at the mention of Beth and Jesse is damn lucky that she's grown up because he wouldn't stand a chance.
"I know you have a problem with me, Jesse—"
"I'd have a problem with anyone that mindlessly tortured Rachel for years and then decided to one day make nice. Not even considering the fact that you weaseled your way back into her life through the law, forced her to open up, and then essentially preyed on her emotions. Do you have any idea how serious the repercussions could have been if you were to ever actually sleep with her? The press release may have gotten you off the hook but it doesn't change what you did and how you did it. You may have meant well but you're despicable and I don't think you deserve Rachel's forgiveness so quickly. I don't think you deserve it at all."
I'm shocked into silence. I'm rarely silent. I don't even think I've blinked in thirty seconds. It all happened so fast.
Quinn's eyes close and after a few seconds she opens them again, I'm entirely tunnel-visioned on her.
"You're right," she pushes her chair back and stands, "Excuse me for a minute," she says lowly, her eyes land on mine briefly before she walks away from the table.
I stare at her retreating form and it takes me at least a minute to break out of my trance. Jesse seems to be in the same state of shock that I'm in, probably for an entirely different reason. What just happened finally catches up to me and I'm enraged. I push back my chair and it nearly falls over onto the floor.
"Do you have to be such a jackass all the time? You better pray that you didn't upset her too much because if she gives me the go-ahead, I will attack you until you cry."
"Rach—"
"Don't."
I ignore the few eyes that dare look at me as I walk towards the only bathroom at the opposite side of the restaurant. I find her in front of the mirror with her eyes closed; she appears to be counting under her breath.
"Quinn?"
Her eyes snap open and find mine in the mirror, "You didn't have to come after me, I just needed a minute."
I wrap my arms around her, my heels give me a slight height advantage and I rest my chin on her shoulder. She continues to stare at me through the mirror while she rests her own hands on top of mine as they protect her stomach.
"Don't listen to him."
She sighs and it's so completely unlike her to lose her confidence so quickly.
"He was right, Rach."
I didn't think to check the two stalls behind me to see if they were being occupied and thankfully they're not. It makes me nervous that I don't think I'd remove my arms from her body even if there was someone else in this bathroom.
"He doesn't understand."
"It's pretty black and white when you look at it from any other perspective but ours."
Her eyes soften the longer I stare at them. I find it funny that we're discussing things that are black and white while we're standing in the middle of a black and white decorated bathroom.
"Well our perspective is the only one that matters."
I also find it funny that while we're standing in this chic black bathroom, we're both wearing bright colors that completely parallel our perspectives. We're special.
"You're just saying that to make me feel better."
"No, I'm saying it because it's true. Isn't my opinion the only one that actually matters? If I thought the same way he did, I don't think I'd be in this bathroom with you. He wasn't in the room with you during sessions, he wasn't in Ohio when we needed each other, and he certainly doesn't see you like I see you. If he did, I think he'd be in love with you and then I'd be forced to kick his ass even more than I already want to."
She turns around in my embrace so that she's facing me. Her hair is pulled away from her face and her eyes stand out even more against her smoky eye makeup. My eyes flutter closed briefly when she places a small kiss on my forehead.
"Your opinion is the only one that matters to me, Rach. It's just still fresh in my mind so it's like he's pouring salt on an open wound. How long did it take me in high school to finally talk about Beth with someone?"
It took at least a year, maybe more.
"I understand."
I understand, I really do. She was never one to discuss her feelings. Hell, she had a crush on me and I only just found out.
"I deal with things internally," she adds.
"I can't read minds."
"Sometimes I think you can."
Me too.
"What do you need me to say? Are you second guessing your choices?"
"What? No! Of course not. He just managed to bring up everything I've been insecure about in a matter of sixty seconds. I needed a minute to compose myself."
"If it means anything, I don't agree with a word he said."
She smiles and pulls me into a hug, her breath tickles my ear.
"It means everything," she whispers.
I pull back and grab her wrist.
"Let's just go back to my apartment or something, we can get takeout," I offer.
She shakes her head no.
"You mean a lot to him," she starts, "And I have to admit, if I was in his position I think I would do the same."
Somehow I feel like she would be much worse.
"That's because you're you."
She leans her hip against the black marbled counter.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
I follow her lead and lean my hip against the counter as well, facing her with my back to the door.
"Do I have to remind you that you've been in love with me for eight years?"
Who wouldn't want to gloat about that fact?
She taps her finger to her chin, "Well you haven't reminded me yet today so I guess I must have forgotten."
I roll my eyes, "You don't have to go back out there."
She runs a fingernail up and down the bare skin of my forearm. I'm watching her eyes as they watch the motions of her finger.
"It's important to you."
It was important to me. Jesse's approval was important to me and them being able to get along was important to me. But he's being a douchebag and his acceptance doesn't seem all that important to me anymore.
I trap her finger under my palm and she finally makes eye contact.
"You're more important to me right now, he's a drama queen and I'm his only friend. He'll get over it."
She smiles and wiggles her finger out from under my grasp, she brings her hand to cup my cheek and her thumb caresses my cheek bone. She pulls my face closer to hers and places another small kiss on my lips.
"I'm going to try harder, okay? I won you over, didn't I?"
I smile back at her. I consider her everyday personality charming and I can't even imagine what her version of charming is.
Besides, it hasn't even been five minutes since we walked into the restaurant, she doesn't have to try any harder.
I bring my own hand up to keep hers in place.
"This isn't about you winning him over, you don't need to do that."
"I know we said that we'd wait to see how he took the idea of us being friends before we told him anything else but he's obviously not going to be receptive to the idea so maybe we should wait longer. We'll get through dinner and we'll find another way to tell him about us. He doesn't even know that we've slept together, I can't imagine him taking the news too well right now."
It's amazing that this is something that is happening between us and she's still worried about his feelings and how he's going to take it. Especially after he just acted like the biggest jerk in the world to her.
"I really don't care about him."
She laughs and brings her other hand up to push back a few strands of my hair.
"He's your friend."
She says it as if I wasn't aware of the fact. Technically, right now he's skating on thin ice in the friend department, he's lucky that Quinn knows how to smile wide and brush things off when she needs to. I don't approve of the action but it's the only thing from high school that's still the same about her and I'm feeling nostalgic so I'll allow it.
I drag her hand towards my mouth and place a kiss on her palm before I let go of it.
"And so are you."
"Just a friend?" she arches her eyebrow.
Okay, well that is the other surviving trait from high school. I wonder if she practices that skill in the mirror. I curb my inner musings once I start imagining her obsession for the Rocky movies and the eyebrow workout I'm sure she does every morning. She already thinks I'm crazy enough, I don't need to be randomly laughing to myself, too.
"Yes, because as far as I know, we still aren't dating."
I've yet to get her grand gesture of romanticism and I'm certainly not going to be the one that does it.
"Right," she drawls out.
I walk backwards towards the door and she follows me.
"C'mon, let's go back out there and order the most expensive thing on the menu so he has to pay for it," I grin.
Little does she know, I tend to do that anyway when Jesse asks me to dinner. She laughs and shakes her head as she opens the door for me.
"Somehow I don't think that would affect him considering he chose a place that has a fifty dollar burger," she says quietly.
We walk side by side until the pathway gets too narrow, she allows me to go first.
"Then we order ten of everything and give all the waitresses a 50% tip."
I hear her chuckle behind me, "You're adorable."
I turn around and beam back at her, "So I've been told."
We get back to our table and I notice that all three of our wine glasses are filled. No doubt this is his way of apologizing for being an asshole.
We take our seats.
"Sorry, just needed to freshen up," Quinn says as she picks up the menu.
The waitress comes back after a minute and I'm entirely unprepared to give my order. It makes me spite Jesse even more, I don't like feeling rushed. Even though waitresses try their best to remain neutral, I know they easily become impatient and it makes me that much more nervous. Instead of blurting out the first thing that may sound good, I just order the same as Quinn. I trust her. Actually, considering she eats every kind of meat possible I don't think it was a good idea to trust Quinn's food choice. Damn Jesse further for ruining my meal. I have a feeling Lauren is going to be ordering me something later.
It's entirely too silent for a casual dinner amongst friends. Neither of them really fall under that label right now and for two completely different reasons
If you can hear the conversation happening three tables over, it's too silent.
"I apologize for my rude behavior before, Quinn."
I glance at him to see if he's being sincere. It appears that he is but I'm still on high alert.
"No need to apologize, Jesse."
I like how she's able to avoid accepting his apology but still able to be polite. She's like a pretty magician.
"It's just," he starts and then sighs. God, he's so dramatic, "I don't understand why you would go to such lengths to reconnect with Rachel."
Quinn glances at me and smiles. I don't know if she meant to be that obvious or if it happened unconsciously but I smile back at her and I do it on purpose. Jesse be damned.
"She's a remarkable person," she replies as her eyes are still on me, my smile only widens. She turns back towards Jesse, "I'm sure you're already aware of that. You also reconnected with her years after high school."
He nods as if he agrees with her, maybe this conversation will be normal and he'll start to understand why I wanted this entire dinner to happen in the first place. It's not that I need his blessing to continue seeing Quinn, I've done plenty of things regardless of his thoughts on the individual matters. I just figured that I'd be a good friend and let him know before the rest of the world finds out. It's only a matter of time before we slip up in public. We decided we'd let the ones closest to us know first before we discussed anything else.
We're so cute! Discussing and deciding things together.
"I know and I was genuinely sorry for how I treated her."
Here we go. I knew it was too good to be true.
"And you don't think that I am?" she asks, a little taken back and probably very much hurt.
She knows that I know how sorry she is, and she knows how sorry she is. It's him that doesn't know how sorry he's about to be.
"Honestly? No."
Her face scrunches a bit, "Why's that?"
I don't want her to encourage him but I also don't want to reprimand her.
"Anyone hear any good jokes lately?" I throw out there.
It was worth a shot.
Jesse's gaze is undeterred. His eyes were always the most threatening thing about him, followed by his smirk. When he works both of them, people normally don't stand a chance. Quinn refuses to give in to his intimidation tactics and her eyes penetrate his. I don't know if I should watch intently or look away, it's like a 12 car pileup in a snowstorm.
They've been staring at each other for so long that I'm wondering if they're having a staring competition because I'm pretty sure neither of them have blinked in a while. Maybe they're telepathically communicating with each other, it wouldn't be the first time that I credited telepathy to situations like these. He seems slightly impressed with her ability to keep up with him and settles back into his seat arrogantly. He picks up one of the silver butter knives and plays with it on the table.
"I think you just wanted to clear your conscience, I don't think you truly care about her or else you wouldn't have done what you did. The fact that you basically premeditated it is proof enough that you really don't put her feelings into consideration."
My feelings are pretty much the only thing that Quinn takes into consideration. How dare he.
"Jesse, can we drop this? It's really not any of your business and I don't appreciate you attacking Quinn for her motives."
I should have used some choice curse words to punctuate my seriousness.
"It's okay, Rach. He has every right to express himself, this is good, maybe we'll make some forward progress if he can understand the reasoning behind it all."
He's never going to understand but bless her soul for trying. She's only doing it for me.
He chuckles and it's a skin crawling sound, "So now you're going to be a therapist? Too bad you couldn't be one when Rachel actually needed you."
Quinn recoils.
That's it.
"You're being a real shitty friend," I fire at him, "You're so hell bent on bringing Quinn down that you don't even care that it's upsetting me. In fact, you don't even seem to care that she actually makes me happy. Quinn has been nothing but civil towards you, she hasn't once given you any reason to treat her this way, and I'm not going to sit around while you berate my girlfriend for things that you don't and will never understand."
I stand from the table and this time my chair does knock over, I'm too caught up to care. For the first time all night he actually looks frightened and he has every reason to be.
"Girlfriend?" he whispers looking back and forth between us, "Rachel, you can't be serious," he looks around to make sure no one is actually watching us. Thankfully, we're secluded.
But shit.
I glance down at Quinn to see her eyes on me. Of course they are, she's wearing a cross between a smile and a I can't believe you just said that expression.
"I'm very serious. I'm serious about this, I'm serious about her, and I'm seriously about to kick your ass if you even think about opening your mouth to protest. I don't care about what you have to say anymore, you've spoke your piece, and I didn't like what you had to say. Therefore, you are no longer allowed to talk."
He goes to open his mouth.
"Unless you're going to apologize to Quinn, don't open your mouth."
His mouth shuts.
"Quinn?"
"Yes, darling?" she looks up to me and bats her eyelashes playfully.
I bite my cheek to keep from smiling at her.
"Get up, we're leaving."
"Yes, Sweetie."
Quinn pushes her chair back gracefully and calmly stands as she shrugs her coat on.
"Rach, I didn't know," he stutters.
He looks so vulnerable and innocent. God, he's such a good actor. I don't know if he means it or not so I'll give him the benefit of the doubt. I'm still livid though.
"I know you didn't. I get that you're trying to be the overprotective friend and everything and I'd appreciate it if this was something I needed to be protected from."
Quinn's behind me with my coat draped over her arm.
I continue, "I wanted you to be the first one to know and now you know."
I take the coat from her and smile.
"Go on ahead, I'll be there in a minute," I tell her.
She looks hesitant to leave and I see her look to Jesse before coming back to me.
She nods, "I'm sorry you had to find out this way, Jesse," she tells him sincerely before she turns to me again, "One minute or I'm coming back in," she whispers and I nod.
I don't think I could be apart from her for more than a minute right now.
I wait until Quinn is out of earshot before I glare at him.
He's watching her retreating form with a perplexed expression, I think she just shocked him into silence once again.
"This has to be some kind of a joke."
"You're unbelievable."
"I'm sorry," he stands and reaches for my hand, I stop and look at him, "I just find it hard to believe that you and Quinn Fabray are actually dating," he whispers.
"If it was a publicity stunt don't you think we would have announced it?" I sneer.
He ignores me, "How long?"
I shrug, "I don't know, two months I guess."
"Wow."
"I need to go."
"Wait!"
"No, I'm furious with you right now, you need to give me some time."
I turn to leave once again because I can feel the surrounding tables quiet down in hopes of overhearing our conversation. I won't be surprised if this is on a gossip blog by the time I get home. I'll have to alert Lauren to be on Google patrol, fans don't like it when you fight with your best friend in public.
"So, what? Just like that? She comes before me now?"
I take a deep breath and remind myself to keep my voice down, "I didn't say that but you were just a real asshole for no reason and right now you're on my hit list."
"Don't you mean shit list?"
"No."
He swallows, "Look, get her back in here. We can finish dinner, I promise I won't say anything rude and I'll try not to upset you anymore."
Not good enough, St. James.
"No. I want you to be okay with this. You'll just be biting your tongue and I'm not putting Quinn in that position."
I know him and I know he would inadvertently say something to piss me off and then our fans would have evidence that we were fighting. His black eye would not be camera shy.
"How could you possibly expect me to be okay with this?"
"Maybe if you actually took the time to get to know her then you'd change your mind."
He scoffs, "How am I supposed to do that when you won't even go get her so we can finish our dinner?"
I cross my arms so he knows I'm not messing around, "My apartment next Thursday at eight o'clock, if you're serious about this then we'll see you then. If you don't show then I'll know your final thoughts on the matter."
"Is this some kind of an ultimatum?"
"If you want to consider it that way."
"And if I don't show up?"
Does he really think I'm in the mood for one of his dumb challenges?
"I'll still be in your life, just not as much. I'm not bringing Quinn near you if you're going to attack her for your own personal vendetta. She glared at you in High School, big fucking deal, get over it already."
"Her and the mohawk spray painted my car," he shrieks.
It takes all I have in me not to laugh in his face. That's amazing.
"Good you deserved it."
He deadpans, "Twice."
Even better.
"Then you better not disappoint me or else she'll come after you again," I smirk, "And I won't call her off."
I doubt Quinn has it in her to graffiti his personal property again but it's fun to scare him.
"I can't believe you're taking her side after everything we've been through."
"I can't believe you're making me choose a side."
I miss Quinn.
"Thanks for dinner," I tell him before I walk towards the door.
Quinn's waiting up near the hostess, she smiles when she sees me and it makes me feel the slightest bit better. I don't even have to second guess that I made the right choice in defending her.
"Everything okay?" she asks as we get out into the cold.
I have no idea where I'm going, I'm just walking. I whirl around to face her and find that she's stopped a few feet behind me. I walk back towards her.
"Everything is fine."
She holds her arm out and I take it, she begins to walk slowly and I match her pace.
"I'm proud of you," she says after walking for about a block. The rain is so light that it doesn't feel like anything.
"Why? Because I completely bitchslapped my best friend?"
I didn't mean for it to sound as bitter as it came out, I'm just mad about the entire situation. It wasn't how I wanted this night to go.
"There's a reason you use that adjective to describe him. He'll come around eventually, we can be patient."
"Oh yeah? And what do you know about patience?"
She raises that eyebrow, "Really? Eight years Rach, eight."
I laugh and tilt my head back to look at the sky, "Where are we going anyway?"
"I'm taking you on a date. A real date."
"I knew that whole girlfriend thing would go straight to your head."
"Naturally," she muses.
"Don't read too much into it Fabray, I still don't like you very much."
"I think you do."
I can hear her smile through the words and I drop whatever retort I had lined up. We walk in silence and I let her guide me to the place she has in mind.
I'm not paying attention to street signs and I have lost all sense of direction. It doesn't really bother me though because Quinn seems to have an atlas of New York in her mind. I like to imagine her studying Mapquest late at night until she's memorized where every restaurant, bar, and hidden gem of the city is. Somehow she knows of all the best places.
She leads me into this small Italian café that has less than ten tables. You're allowed to seat yourself and Quinn chooses a table in one of the corners. There's only one waitress and she appears after a few minutes with a bottle of wine and the menus. It's nowhere near as fancy as the restaurant we were previously in and there's not a soul insight. It's literally just the two of us.
"Everything looks so good, I don't know what to get," I comment as I scan the menu for the fifth time.
This has never happened to me before, I've always been able to narrow down my choices but I just can't.
Quinn takes a sip of her wine and sets it back down. She didn't even need to look at her menu.
She takes my menu and sets it on top of hers.
The waitress appears a minute later and Quinn gives her our order. There's something so indescribably sexy about Quinn when she exudes such confidence. She even knew what type of salad dressing to order with my side salad.
"By the way," I start after a few minutes of idle chatter, "We need to find me a cookbook."
"Do I want to know why?" she asks as she breaks off a piece of bread and dips it into the plate of oil and seasonings.
"Jesse seemed to feel pretty bad about picking on you and I've decided to give him another chance."
"Okay?"
"So he's going to be coming over my apartment next Thursday."
She dips another piece of bread into the oil, "And you want to make him dinner?"
"No, I need something heavy to throw at his head should he piss me off again."
She laughs. I think she thought I was kidding.
"I'll give you a cookbook if you let me help with dinner."
Okay seriously, who said anything about me making dinner for that asshole?
Although, her offer does sound tempting.
"Will you wear an apron?"
"Um, sure?"
Good, now I just need to somehow get her to only be wearing the apron.
"And your reading glasses?"
She eyes me suspiciously, "Okay?"
Wonderful. Fantasy complete.
"Good. It's settled."
"I'm not going to ask any questions."
"Probably for the best."
"But I think it's a good idea to have him over," She continues.
I swirl the wine around in my glass a few times before I take a sip, "Why are you so forgiving?"
I find it rather funny that our roles have completely switched since our McKinley days.
"I can't expect others to forgive me if I can't forgive them."
I believed that at one point in my life. I stare at my glass of wine as I silently reminisce. I can tell when Quinn is upset about something, it's my seventh sense and sometimes it's stronger than all my other senses combined. I could tell in high school and I can tell now, the only difference is that I can finally say something without the fear that she will retaliate with hurtful words as a way to protect herself. I'm allowed to inquire about her feelings, it's my job now.
"I know that his words hurt you," I start and her eyes snap up to meet mine, "You don't have to internally deal with this, I want to be here for you. You can at least give me that."
She sighs, "Fine, you're right. He did get to me. I'm still sensitive regarding my motives and I think I'll always be ashamed of myself for how it happened."
I go to open my mouth to refute her feelings. To prove to her that she shouldn't be ashamed because it worked out for us.
"But I still can't bring myself to regret it because it brought me back to you. And I think that's the main reason why I'm ashamed, because I'd probably do it again if I had to."
"I'd let you."
She reaches for her glass of wine again, taking her time to sip it, "At first, I just thought we could become friends, ya know? That's all I really wanted and I'd consider myself lucky if we were able to be that. But as the weeks continued I couldn't help but feel myself grow more attracted to you, and then before I knew it, I was re-falling in love with you. It was scary that I had no control over it, much like in High School. It just sort of happened and it didn't take much I suppose. I mean, look at you, you're beautiful."
I duck my head into my shoulder to hide my sudden bashfulness at her admittance. Few people can make me blush or feel this way.
"You're independent, you're confident, you're absolutely addictive, Rach. I knew I was in way over my head that night we went out with everyone and it didn't get any better in Ohio. Seeing you and Beth together, hearing you sing at church, watching you stand up to my Dad… you just continued to solidify my feelings for you."
She has such a way with words that I don't ever recall her having. It's like she went to the college of Romance and majored in Rachel Berry.
"I felt it, all of it," I mumble, I don't even think she could have heard me.
"I should have put space between us the second I felt myself losing control. I'm still that selfish girl you knew in high school, I just stopped hiding it when it came to you."
"It's not entirely your fault, when I put my mind to something, I normally accomplish it. I don't think I would have let you distance yourself from me."
"My charm and wit reeled you in?"
Something like that.
"You somehow managed to do the impossible, Fabray."
"Oh yeah? What's that?"
I gesture around the small restaurant, "You got me on a real date."
She laughs slightly and nods her head before taking another sip of wine, she's at the crossroads right now. She can either take the serious path or one filled with lighthearted conversation. I'm prepared for either.
"So Lauren knows and so does Jesse. We're getting there."
"This would be so much easier if I wasn't famous."
She chuckles, "You know, I've always wondered why you dated a man to keep your secret. You've always struck me as someone that would never hide who they were."
"I used to be."
"What changed?"
It feels like we're back in one of our sessions.
"Honestly? I have no idea. My publicist drilled it into my head that it would be a terrible career choice, I guess."
"What do you think?"
I think that my father passed away knowing his daughter as someone that was ashamed to be the way she was. I think that there are thousands of people who could benefit from knowing someone they look up to is just like them. I think that somewhere along the line I lost sight of what was important to me. I think that Quinn is the only one that can help me remember.
"I think I'm established enough to be okay."
She frowns, "So what's stopping you?"
"Talking about it and actually doing it are two very different things. Announcing that I'm the way that I am—"
"Gay?"
"Yeah, that. Publically announcing it seems like it would be a death sentence."
Quinn's frowning again and it's probably because she's trying to figure out how I went from the proud daughter of gay parents to someone that can't even say the word out loud.
"I'm not pressuring you Rachel, I just need to know."
"Know what?"
"Are we going to be hiding forever? I mean, I'll do it for you but I'd just like to know."
Forever might be the scariest word I've ever heard in my life. The idea of being with Quinn forever isn't freaking me out as much as the idea of having to hide Quinn forever.
"No."
"Okay."
Her response is neutral and void of all emotion, I honestly can't tell if she's relieved or disappointed.
"Did you want to hide forever or something?"
"No, not at all. I just want us to both be ready for it. We'll gradually tell our friends and family and we'll get to that point together, okay?"
I feel like crying but I don't know why, "Okay."
"You don't seem okay."
"I'm sorry," I shake my head out of my weird daze, "I've just never had a conversation like this before."
"We've had a lot of conversations that you've probably never had with someone else before."
"You're probably right."
I need to get the spotlight off of me. I feel like I can't breathe properly with Quinn's innocent prodding. She has every right to know what to expect and I can't fault her for questioning me about it but I just can't get into it right now. It's bringing up all the guilt that I've worked so hard to bury.
"Will you be okay? With everything? I mean, this is happening to you, too."
She mulls over my question as she continues to swirl her wine, "I'll be just fine. I just need a distraction."
"From me?"
The idea makes me feel numb and this time I actually think I might cry. Normally when I feel this way, I storm out and hide in my apartment until I feel better but for the life of me I can't bring myself to get up from this table. Especially because the person that would probably make me feel better is the person sitting across from me.
"From now having my days free, I need to do something with my life. At the very least to not give Jesse any more ammo against me."
"You can't let what he said get to you, I know how he is and he was just trying to get under your skin. He's still mad at you for spray-painting his car."
She smirks and I'm beyond relieved that our serious conversation is over, "So, he told you, huh?"
"Who are you? Like, really. And twice?"
"Okay he's lying," she points a finger at me, "The second time it was paintballs."
"Where on earth did you get a paintball gun?"
"Puck."
I rest my chin on my palm and my elbow on the table, "Did you wear all black and put war paint on your face?"
"Actually…yeah. How did you know that?"
"That's so hot."
"Yeah well, someone had to defend your honor."
"My hero," I sigh dramatically.
She winks, "Always babe"
The waitress walks out of the swinging doors with our tray of food and I don't come up for air until it's entirely devoured. It was that good. Quinn needs to do my ordering from now on, she knew exactly what to get me.
We finish off the bottle of wine and idly chat about whatever crosses our minds as we wait for the check. Though, I mostly just inquire about her stealth mission to cover Jesse's car in paint. As much as I try to protest, Quinn claims that she has to pay since this was an official date and all. I let her have it, something tells me that it made our dinner that much better for her.
Quinn hails a cab and ignores my face as she shoves me into the backseat with her. She downright refused to walk the forty or so blocks back to my apartment but she does allow us to stop five blocks away so we can have the cliché end-of-date movie walk that I demanded we have.
It just wouldn't have been a real date if we didn't have one.
"So am I allowed to treat this as a real first date?"
She glances at me, suddenly I wish I wasn't wearing heals so that she'd be able to look down at me. There's something so familiar about gazing up to look in someone's eyes when you're walking with them.
She laughs and blows some hot air out of her mouth, I wonder if she's trying to make smoke rings again, "Sure."
"I'll have you know, I don't put out until at least the 15th date."
"Oh, is that so?"
I tighten my grip around her lower bicep. She's deceptively strong.
"The last person I for real dated was Finn," I remind her, "And he didn't get any for over a year. I'm a girl with morals, Quinn Fabray, and I don't plan on selling myself short for your pretty eyes and panty dropping smile."
It would be funnier if I was serious. I guess the fact that we had sex in the shower earlier negates my moral code.
She chuckles, "Fair enough."
I hope this doesn't turn into her pretending to take this seriously and holding out on me until our 15th date. That shit will not fly.
I wish I lived in a brownstone only so that I would have steps that she could walk me up.
The doorman gets the door and Quinn follows me to the elevator.
"So, are you gonna come up?"
She laughs into my neck as soon as the doors slide close, "You're adorable."
"I don't know, what do people say at the end of a first date?"
"I normally say goodnight."
"You're kind of boring."
The elevator dings and we separate incase there is someone waiting on the other side. The coast is clear and I take her hand in mine as I tug her down the hallway and to my apartment door.
"No but seriously, you're coming in right?" I ask as I dig for my key in my clutch.
She shakes her head no, "Not tonight."
"You didn't enjoy our date?" I pout, she never refuses the pout.
"Well you see, I actually like you so I need to keep you coming back for more."
"Trust me when I say that will never be a problem."
I push the key into the lock but I feel her step back so I turn around.
"So this is really goodnight?"
I was hoping she was just kidding about the whole keep coming back for more thing.
"Why do you sound so surprised? I've never stayed over before," she reminds me.
As if I need reminding that she's always out of my apartment by 10:45 so she can catch the 11:02 subway back to Chelsea. Occasionally, I'll hide her cell phone and change the time on the clocks so she has to stay past midnight but that usually results in cranky Quinn because then she has to hail a cab at 2 in the morning.
"I know but—"
"For a self-proclaimed prude you sure do move fast."
"Very funny."
"I'll call you."
She steps closer and places a small kiss on my cheek. I sneak my hand up and tilt her chin towards me as she moves to pull away and connect our lips.
She attempts to resist me at first but I don't remove my hand from her chin and she finally gives in and kisses me back slowly.
The way she gives in so easily and the way I sigh into her mouth when she finally does is further proof that we are in way over our heads. How I fell for her and continue to fall for her is beyond all logic and I've given up trying to explain it. She was right so many weeks ago, I am afraid of commitments. But for some reason I'm not afraid of committing to her.
I hope she can feel it through our kiss.
When I pull away from her, her eyes are still closed and her lips still somewhat parted. She blinks a few times when she opens her eyes and I smile before placing another kiss on her cheek.
"Thank you for dinner."
"Anytime."
I laugh at her apparent daze and temporary loss of speech.
"Goodnight Quinn"
"Yeah, night."
I turn the doorknob and slip inside my dark apartment. I close the door softly and lean my back against it. I had to complete the movie cliché that was going on in my head. My grin is genuine as I continue to think about Quinn, I'd just been in front of her and I'm still giddy just thinking of her.
"Are you still out there?" I call through the door after a minute or two.
She clears her throat, "Goodnight Rachel."
