Rachel made lists.
It was a fall back. If Mr Schue gave Mercedes a solo, she made a list. If someone threw a cherry slushie in her face, she cleaned up and made a list (usually involving the best methods of torture involving frozen ice). She was pregnant now, so she Googled and then set down to work. It was a distraction, a way for her to regain some kind of control over a situation that was looking increasingly more daunting every time she sat down and thought about it.
Rachel Berry's List to Ensure a Healthy and Smooth Pregnancy
1. Locate and secure a respected and affordable OB/GYN for prenatal visits
2. Find out about Puck's medical history
3. TELL PARENTS
4. Start saving for new clothes or in the alternative a Belly Belt
5. Find out about health insurance
6. Prenatal vitamins
7. Eat healthy
8. FIND A JOB
This list is subject to change. Please treat this as a guideline and not a fixed plan. Input from Noah Puckerman is welcome.
This was what she shoved into Puck's hands the next morning at his locker. She had stood around the corner for a good fifteen minutes debating whether he would actually acknowledge her. Finally, after receiving weird looks from people, she had raised her chin and stalked towards him.
'What the fuck is this?' Puck asked, staring down at the pink lined paper. 'Why the hell is it pink?'
'I made a copy for you,' she said, refusing to deign his question with a response. 'It's a list. As you can see I made a notation indicating that your suggestions will be taken into consideration.' She pointed at the postscript written in her tight, loopy cursive.
'Thanks,' he replied dryly. 'You don't need a job. I already have a job.'
'Do you possess health insurance?'
Puck screwed up his face. 'I don't think so.'
'Neither do I. The average prenatal visit costs approximately one hundred and thirty-three dollars according to national statistics. I will need roughly fourteen prenatal appointments until I deliver, which will add up to one thousand, eight hundred and sixty-two dollars. And that is not taking into consideration the added costs of, say, ultrasounds or blood work.'
Puck gaped at her.
Rachel nodded her head. 'I need a job.'
He scanned the list again and then looked up at her. She watched as he dug through his pockets and retrieved his cell. Tilting his head, he curled her fingers around the phone.
'Put your number in. And give me yours. We might need it for emergencies and shit,' he mumbled, folding her list into a small square. Rachel nodded mutely and handed her own Blackberry over without question. She contemplated whether she could add an electronic star after her name but decided against it when Puck gave her an impatient look. Clearing her throat she grasped the handle of her bag. Students passing by cut their gazes back and forth between the two, some leaning over to their friend and whispering.
Realizing that Rachel Berry was speaking to Noah Puckerman, and wondering why Puck still hadn't told her to get lost, she worried her lower lip.
'I'm sorry. I didn't stop to consider how it would look for the both of us to be conversing,' she said and Puck blinked.
What the hell did she just say?
'What?' He asked somewhat stupidly, banging his locker close.
'Well, I'm the school freak,' he could tell that she was trying to mask the bitterness colouring her tone, 'and you're well…'
'I'm a stud?'
'Popular,' she finished lamely. Something inside him twisted at her words.
'You think I fucking care what these people say about me?' He demanded, leaning his face down closer to hers.
'You did before,' her voice wavered and he saw her eyes flicker to his lips for a second.
Interesting.
'That's right. Before. Before Glee and before…this,' he waved a hand down her frame, stopping at her belly. 'So get used to having public conversations with me.'
She could only manage a weak nod before the bell rang. Smirking he walked off towards Spanish, relishing in the fact that he had made Rachel speechless.
When lunch rolled around Rachel found herself abandoning the solitude the choir room afforded her and seeking out human companionship. Puck's words had looped through her mind incessantly and she had spent most of English and World History trying to tease out any hidden meanings or implications that she had missed.
What did he mean when he said conversations? Does this mean we're friends, acquaintances, casual acquaintances?
It soon dawned on Rachel that Puck and her had never actually had a real conversation, one that wasn't Glee-related or alcohol induced. She absently unpacked her lunch, placing the tupperwares neatly side by side as Kurt and Mercedes argued over whether Britney needed to revamp her hair (because, Kurt said, bangs were so last year).
'Hey Rach,' Artie startled her ever so slightly. 'You okay?'
She gave him a small smile. 'Of course.' I'm just having a baby at sixteen with a boy I know practically nothing about save for the fact that he possessed a fondness for throwing grape slushies at me. Other than that, everything's just peachy.
'You sure? You've been acting a bit strange since I left you in the choir room with Puck.' His tone was joking but Rachel saw the serious set of his eyes.
'I'm positive Artie. Thank you for your concern.'
Artie shrugged. 'That's what friends are for.'
This time the smile she gave him was genuine and full.
Friends. You have friends who can help.
But what will they think? What will they say?
What if they don't want to be associated with a teenage mother?
She speared a crouton viciously and took a bite, chewing over the crunchy bread and tasting the garlic and oregano her Dad liked using. Suddenly her stomach lurched.
Oh no.
The crouton tasted like sawpaper and she could feel her insides roil around. She got to her feet abruptly, clapping a hand over her mouth as she headed towards the girls bathroom.
Puck felt something collide against him and glanced down to see Rachel.
'Sorry,' she called absently, ducking under someone's arm as she disappeared through the doors of the cafeteria.
'Was that Rachel?' Finn's worried tone made Puck place his lunch tray down, the mashed potatoes hardly moving as it slammed against the plastic surface.
'I'll be right back,' he said, giving no time for anyone to say anything as he pivoted on his heel and followed after Rachel.
Was the baby okay?
Looking left and right, he caught sight of a plaid skirt disappearing into the girls bathroom. Hands shoved into his pockets, he made sure there was no one in the halls and pushed the door open (it wasn't like he hadn't been inside one before).
'Don't be alarmed at this manly visage ladies,' he called out, knowing that there was no one inside (like he said, he'd been in here with Juanita Gonzalez once. He made sure to listen at the door now after another girl had emerged from the stall and shrieked to high heaven).
The sound of someone retching reached his ears. He found Rachel slumped over a toilet, hands grasping the edge of the porcelain like a lifeline. Puck hovered at the entrance of the stall, uncertain.
'Berry?' You'd think you'd be able to call the mother of your child by her first name Puckerman. 'Rachel?'
'Puck?' She twisted around, a hand wiping at the corners of her mouth. 'What are you doing here?' Rachel appeared to be feeling self-conscious, turning her head away so he could only see the back of her head.
'I saw you running and I just…is everything okay? Is it the baby?'
'It's just morning sickness,' Rachel told him, reaching up and flushing the toilet.
'It's, like, one in the afternoon.'
'Unfortunately whoever named this affliction must have been blessed with a cruel sense of irony,' Rachel replied. She sounded tired. 'It was most likely a male.'
'You want me to get you something to clean up?' He offered and tried not to appear affected when she seemed surprised by this words.
'Could you go to my locker and grab the wipes and mouthwash I have in there?' She said, telling him her combination.
He tried not to think that blessing him with that information meant that there was some kind of trust buried underneath everything that had happened between them.
When he came back he rapped on the door and Rachel assured him that it was still empty. He politely turned to the side as Rachel wiped her face and rinsed out her mouth.
'Thank you Puck.'
For some reason it felt weird her saying that name. He remembered the way his given name had fell from her lips, the way she had caressed it with affection.
'Noah,' he corrected her. 'You can call me Noah I guess.'
'Thank you Noah.' This seemed to make her happy and something inside him relaxed.
'Just don't go around advertising it,' he mumbled, making Rachel roll her eyes.
'I'll be sure to keep that in mind,' she replied sarcastically, screwing the cap back on the Listerine.
When she asked why he was following her back to her locker, he gave her a piercing look.
'Look Rachel, in order for this to work we need to at least try at…' He searched for the right words.
'Establishing a mutual foundation of trust and respect?'
'If that means being at least friends then yeah.'
Her gaze was appraising. 'I'd like that.'
Puck shrugged, visually picturing the addition he had made to the list she had given him.
9. Make Rachel realize that this musical number is a DUET, not a solo.
I'm going to make her know that she can't just cut me out because she thinks I'm not good enough.
I'm going to show her she needs me.
