I fucking suck.
It was a brisk morning. You know, one of those days where you don't really need a sweater, but you bring one anyway. Or you bring it because it's green, and green is your color, and your hoping Noah Puckerman notices this.
Rachel Berry is wearing that green sweater, the tiny matching one fitted onto her daughter. They looked like quite the pair, strolling through the park. Gracie absolutely adored the park, so Rachel kept an eye on her as she ran slightly ahead, reaching her tiny hands out to pet the passing dogs.
She's kind of coming to regret the sweater, since her nerves are making her hot, which in turns makes her sweaty. Which means she's nervous. And Rachel Berry is never nervous.
Was she nervous when she performed her first dance recital at thirteen months? No.
Was she nervous when she belted out her first Streisand song at two? God no.
But Noah Puckerman? This made Rachel nervous.
It wasn't as if they had the strongest of relationships in high school either. Honestly, Noah was a bonehead. Not too bright, but extra on the side of handsome. But of what Rachel saw of him the other night, he had matured into the man she never thought she'd see. He was caring, considerate, and smart. All of the things sixteen-year-old Noah seemed to lack.
So this was how Rachel decided to take her bundle of nerves and meet up with Noah. She swept the park for him, but couldn't see him anywhere around. Gracie was still tottering ahead, her star-covered sippy cup grasped in one hand.
She turned around quickly, calling a "momma" as Rachel snapped a picture of her. She hit playback to view the photo, and caught a figure walking towards Gracie. She looked back up at Gracie, and saw her giving a delightful hug to Noah. She giggled as he raised her above his head.
She was surprised to say the least. Gracie never reacted this way to men. In fact, she was very protective of her mother. When she brought home a boy a couple of months ago, Gracie "accidentally" spilled her milk all over his lap. She was quite the charmer.
"Noah, hi," she greeted him, taking Gracie from his arms. The little girl dropped her head on her mother's shoulder, tuckered out from her walk.
"Hey Rach, how's it going?" He asked, joining her in step.
"It's going great, thanks. How about you?"
"The day's been fine. Better now," and then he sicked that amazing grin on her, and she nearly melted right then and there. Fortunately, she had a handle on herself.
"Oh, um, that's great." Redundant Rachel is redundant.
He smirked, and little did she know, he was a bundle of nerves himself.
They spent the day traversing the park. They stopped at a hotdog stand for lunch, where Rachel just asked for water and Noah rolled his eyes as he and Gracie munched on a cheese dog.
She spent almost an hour with him on a park bench while Gracie played on the jungle gym, his arm nonchalantly around her shoulders. They talked mostly about what they'd been doing since high school. She learned he went to Ohio State for football, and moved to the city to be a sports columnist on a small newspaper in Brooklyn.
"I knew you'd be someone, Noah," she said quietly as they made their way back to her apartment after dinner. He treated her and Gracie to a wonderful Italian dinner in Manhattan.
He waited as she tucked Gracie in, the tiny girl begging for a song. This time though, she allowed Noah to sing her lullaby with his rough voice but gentle tone.
"You're great with kids too, you know," she commented as they sat on her couch. She held a glass of wine in her hand, he had a beer.
"Well, your mom…Uh, she let me watch Beth sometimes," he said quietly, and her heart broke for him. "I haven't seen her since I moved out here though. I miss her."
Rachel knew she was seeing a side of Noah he rarely let be seen, and she appreciated it. He told her more about his regrets, especially concerning Beth. Things were moving smoothly until Noah brought up the one subject Rachel was continually trying to avoid.
"I don't want to pry Rach, but, whose Gracie's father?" He asked her, his hazel eyes boring into hers.
She almost choked on her wine, not expecting the question. She took a moment, her head down. "It's really hard for me to tell this story, Noah, and I don't think I'm ready to, um, tell you yet."
Noah's head snapped up. "What? Why?"
"It's really personal Noah."
He stood up. "I just spent almost an hour telling you about Beth, shit I've never told anyone."
"Noah, you're taking this too personally. This is our first time out since high school. I need to trust you."
"What, did you meet some guy at a bar, screw 'em, then never heard from him again?" he asked bitterly.
"That's incredibly insensitive, Noah," she softly admonished.
"I just don't understand why you won't tell me. You're the one who at sixteen said we needed to have a relationship based on truth."
"Noah, I'm asking you, as my friend, to wait until I'm ready." She really, really, really didn't mean to say friend. It was one of those moments where she needed a noun and the first one that came to her mind seemed to suffice. She knew, and so did her, that judging by today, they weren't friends. They were more. They had always been.
"Whatever. I'm out. I'll call you or…whatever." With that, he grabbed his jacked and swung the door behind him.