Author's Note:
Enjoy Chapter 4 :)
Chapter 4
Rachel followed behind me as we drove to my apartment. The panic attack still fresh in my mind, I took deep, calming breaths. Don't want another one. That would be mortifying. Especially in front of Rachel. We eventually arrived and I walked over to her and opened the driver's door.
"Chop chop, Berry."
She rolled her eyes and smiled. Man she smiles a lot. I felt a grin play on my lips in response. She exited the vehicle and I led her up the complex stairs and to my little apartment.
I twisted the key into the lock. "It's not much. Well, it's probably not what you're use to anyway." I toyed with my lip piercing. Rachel probably lives in a huge cushy house.
"Quinn I can assure you everything will be nice. You don't have to defend yourself. It's your apartment," she spoke.
She has a point.
I sighed and we walked in. Her eyes immediately shot to the wall in the small living area.
"Cool album covers!" She walked over by the wall to inspect them closely. I have a few of my favorite music album covers framed on the wall.
"You have very good taste, Quinn Fabray," she looked at me and her eyes sparkled.
I felt my face heating up like an idiot. I cleared my throat. "Let me show where you're sleeping."
I led her to my room(the only room with a bed unfortunately) and allowed her to put her things down.
"The sheets are clean, don't worry." I told her. I hardly ever sleep, so I'm hardly ever in bed. Therefore the sheets should be fairly clean. The women I bring home I take on the couch, the floor, the counter. Rarely the bed. But if I do I change the sheets.
However I will not be telling Rachel about my little one night stands...
"Quinn this is obviously your room. I'll take the couch." Rachel tried to walk out of the room but I stuck my arm out and blocked the doorway.
She looked up at me, brow furrowed. "It's fine, shortstack. I'm taking the couch."
"This is your bed!" she argued.
I rolled my eyes. "Yeah well you're staying here and contrary to popular belief I know how to be polite. I'll take the couch. Now get settled I think I have a call." My cell was vibrating in my back pocket.
I eyed Rachel as she hesitated back into the room. She sat on the bed and I felt satisfied enough to walk out of the room and answer the call. It was my mother.
"Hey Mom," I answered.
"Quinnie! Are you alright?" I frowned.
"Um...Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?" What is this...
"Sam told me what happened. You haven't had a panic attack since Judy sent you that first letter. Are you alright sweetie?"
Oh.
I'm going to kill Sam.
I growled. "I'm fine, Mom. I'm okay, I dealt with it."
"Now, now. Quinn don't get mad at your brother. He is concerned. Just like me and your father. Sam told me about this girl...Rochelle? Who is she?"
"It's Rachel," I seethed. I love my family but not when they fucking butt in my business. I can deal with my own shit. I sat on the counter top in the kitchen and rubbed my temples.
"Quinnie why on earth is a girl staying at your apartment? And not sleeping with you? I know you, sweetheart. And you sleep around! You don't invite young girls over to hang out."
I cringed. So gross when my mom brings that up. "Can we not talk about this? I'm busy. Bye Mom." I hung up on her and rubbed at my eyes. I felt kind of guilty about the short call we just had, but I am so not in the mood. Quite frankly, I'm exhausted. Emotionally at least.
"Quinn?" I heard Rachel and I looked up. She was leaning against the kitchen wall, staring at me.
I quickly hopped down, wanting to avoid a conversation about me. "Hungry? I should have enough to sustain dinner in the pantry..." I gestured toward it. "Make yourself at home." I stalked off into the living room and plopped down on the couch.
What am I doing?
Rachel poked her head into the living room. "Do you like peanut butter and jelly, Quinn?"
I blushed. "Yeah, but that's alright I can make my own later-"
She waved her hand at me and said she doesn't mind making two. I felt mildly embarrassed at the food available in my place. I eat a lot of junk and what not. But, whatever.
"What would you like to drink?" she called out from the kitchen. Oh God...this is so awkward.
"Um...water, please." I blushed even more.
Calm down, Fabray. Rachel needs a place to stay. This is only for a couple of nights, I chanted to myself. But why is there such a coincidence that she has to stay with me?
Of all people, really now.
Rachel walked into the living room with two plates and two bottles of water. I grinned despite myself.
"Thanks, Berry." She smiled at me and my heart fluttered. Damn that smile.
We ate in silence. It wasn't as awkward as I expected, to say the least. I finished quickly, as did Rachel. She crossed her legs and sat back, looking around the living room. There wasn't much in here. A couch, a loveseat, a coffee table, and a TV.
I cleared my throat. "Do your father's always go away like this?"
She shrugged. "Yeah. Quite often actually. My dads are always so occupied with their time. They work for this one corporation you see...I can't very well remember the name of it. But, yeah, they are always gone like this."
The fuck? They just leave their daughter to her own needs? Well, I shouldn't be very surprised. My biological parents sucked majorly. There are a lot of crappy parents in the world and it makes me sick.
Rachel must have read my thoughts because she quickly became flustered. "My dads are great, Quinn! Don't get me wrong. Whenever they are at home they treat me like a princess. I'm spoiled rotten."
This made me chuckle so Rachel shoved me lightly. "I love my dads," she continued. "They're just...busy." Rachel looked down at her lap and bit her lip. I felt a pang in my chest.
I laughed. "Hey if it makes you feel any better, my father is in jail." Rachel looked at me in shock before I realized what I had just said.
Shit.
I swallowed thickly. "I mean—uh..." Rachel stared at me with her eyebrows raised. I can't believe I just fucking told her that. I just feel so damn comfortable around her that words just flow out of my mouth like vomit.
I cringed. Not the best simile I've come up with...
"I thought your mom and dad owned the tattoo parlor...?" Rachel questioned.
I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. "They do. My biological parents, however, are no longer a part of my life. But I've said to much." We just fucking met each other.
I chanced a glance at her and she looked upset. "I'm so-"
I laughed nervously. "Oh no, we aren't going to pity me or even talk about this. Let's drop it?"
I looked at her and she nodded hesitantly, before quickly changing the subject. "So Quinn, how many piercings and tattoos do you have?"
I stared at her blankly for a moment and then shook my head. What a strange girl. thank God for the subject change, though. "Well, Berry, I have five piercings and six tattoos." I glanced at her arm and saw the gold star I designed. I smiled warmly.
She grinned excitedly. "Where are all of your tatts?"
I smirked. "You're going to have to find out yourself, babe. Some of them require certain articles of clothing to be taken off." She flushed and glared at me.
"Quinn!" she shouted.
I laughed heartily. "You asked!"
We spent the rest of the night talking about random things and watching whatever various networks were deciding to air. At around nine o'clock she announced she was going to bed.
Yeah, well that was almost six hours ago. No fucking sleep for me so far. Rachel being steps away wasn't helping much, either. It's hard to believe I have a woman in my house and I haven't slept with her.
The world must be ending.
I flipped to another TV channel. Ah. Infomercials once again. Kill me.
"Quinn?" I heard a voice and whipped my head around only to see a very tired Rachel, in sleep shorts and a tank top.
I tensed. "What are you doing up, Berry?" I didn't mean to sound so rude, but this situation is once again very awkward and I just feel sort of vulnerable right now. Not that I'm weak or anything. Fuck that. I'm Quinn Fabray, but I don't do people and shit. Well I mean I do people. If you know what I mean. But I digress.
"I could ask you the same question, Quinn. It's three in the morning," Rachel retorted, her voice laced with sleep. She rubbed at her eyes and yawned.
I scoffed. "I can stay up as late as I want. Was the TV too loud? I can turn it down." I drummed my fingers on the arm of the couch, not knowing what to say.
"No, that's okay. I didn't even know you were awake until I abruptly awoke. I saw the light from the TV coming down the hall," she stated. She sat down on the couch next to me and folded her legs underneath her.
I frowned. "Well why did you wake up?"
She bit her lip and looked away. "I don't know, I just did."
I narrowed my eyes at her and she just yawned. "Well why are you out here, you could just go back to bed," I argued.
"Well why aren't you sleeping?" she countered, giving me a worried look.
I sighed. "I'm just not. Now go back to my room and sleep."
She whined. I mean, she actually whined. "I just feel so guilty taking your room! I bet that's why you can't sleep."
I laughed. So not the reason. "Go Rachel, it's fine."
She crossed her arms. "I'm not going. I'm sure you could use the company anyway."
I groaned and ran a hand through my hair. What a diva. I glared at her and she smirked. Ugh whatever.
We watched mindless TV together for a while. I noticed Rachel yawning quite often and I smiled. She can't last. I stared at her as she tried to stay awake but ultimately failed and finally gave in to sleep.
Chuckling, I threw the blanket draped over the back of the couch on her and sat back down. It wasn't for another half hour that I drifted off into sleep as well.
I woke up and groaned. So fucking tired. I checked my phone. 8 am. Nice. I can usually only manage a few hours of sleep at time. guess Rachel being here didn't change that. I have to pee...
I looked to the side and saw Rachel curled up, still sleeping. I rolled my eyes remembering what happened a few hours earlier. I got up to use the bathroom and brush my teeth. I don't have work today so that's good. Tomorrow's Sunday. Shop's closed on Sunday. Next is Monday which means school for the girl sleeping on my couch. I frowned. High School, yuck. I heard Rachel's voice in the living room. Sound's like she's awake.
"Finn, does Quinn even sound remotely like a male name? I'm not with another boy. She's a friend. I would be staying with you but you're out of town."
A pause. "I couldn't stay with Santana because she's with Brittany. You know how those two are."
I smirked. Hot. "Finn, you're being ridiculous. I'll talk to you later."
I chose that moment to return to the living room. "Hey shortstuff."
Rachel frowned. "Are you sure you've slept enough, Quinn? It's eight in the morning and you only slept a good few hours."
I rolled my eyes. "Yep. I slept enough." I walked over into the kitchen and began looking through the fridge.
"Nice boxers, Quinn," I heard right in my ear.
I might as well have been Superman because I'm pretty sure I jumped the length of a skyscraper.
"Jesus Christ! Ouch!" I cursed and hit my head on the fridge.
"Quinn! Crap, sorry!"
Motherfuck that hurt. I groaned. "Make fun of my boxers and then give me a head injury. Thanks Berry." What kind of boxers am I even wearing? I looked down. Oh.
They were the ones with Papa Smurf on it and said "Who's your Papa?" I turned red. I usually sleep in boxers and a shirt and wasn't thinking when I invited Rachel over.
She giggled. "Sorry, Quinn. I didn't mean to startle you. Your boxers are so cute!"
I probably look like a tomato right now. I coughed. "Well you know...I um- like to charm the ladies. With my...sleepwear." Real smooth. I don't even wear clothes when I'm with the ladies. What am I saying?
She laughed some more. I groaned and got the milk out. I also grabbed the cheerios. "Cereal?" I asked her.
She nodded happily. I poured two bowls of it and right as I was about to pour Rachel her milk, she stopped me. I looked at her in confusion.
She shook her head and smiled. "I'm a Vegan. Sorry Quinn. Dry cereal for me. Unless you have soy milk stocked up in your fridge." She winked and my stomach flipped.
I shrugged. "Suit yourself."
As I ate through my cereal Rachel started asking me questions. Again.
"So Quinn what would you be doing today if I weren't here?"
I swallowed a spoonful. "I would probably work out, think up some tattoo designs. Um...avoid booty calls from an endless list of women," I smirked at her and she blushed. I laughed and continued. "Spend time with my bro Sam if he weren't working. And then at night I would probably go to a bar and have a little fun. I don't do much, like I told you."
My mother wants me to have an actual relationship with someone. She doesn't really approve of how I live. Whatever.
"Wanna go clubbing tonight?"
I choked on the spoonful of cheerios I just shoveled into my mouth. I sat there coughing and spluttering like an idiot until I finally settled down. Rachel looked at me like I was insane.
I cleared my throat. "I'm pretty sure it's illegal for you to go clubbing, babe." Play it cool, Fabray.
Rachel rolled her eyes. "Santana gave me and Britts fake ID's a long time ago. Don't ask me how, but she did. I've gotten into clubs a bunch of times."
I stared at her wide eyed. How have I not gotten into this girl's pants? Oh right. She won't let me. But at least she's not as naive as I thought she was...
I quickly wiped the deer in the headlights look off of my face and replaced it with a smirk. "What about your boyfriend? Jim?"
"It's Finn. And I can go clubbing without his consent. I want to have fun tonight! Please go with me? We'll bring Santana and Brittany too! This will be a great way to get closer." She smiled at me and I frowned with uncertainty. I do love to party...
"Okay let's do it."
She beamed at me and I grinned. This should be fun. Her eyes trailed down to my wrist and they lit up.
"I found one of your tattoos!"
I narrowed my eyes and looked down. Oh, that one. Rachel moved closer to me and turned my wrist to her. She traced the script. Don't give up. She grinned. "What's the story behind it?"
I smiled lightly. "Not today, Berry."
She shrugged as if to say that's fair and resumed eating her dry cereal.
All of a sudden Sexy Bitch began playing from the living room. Rachel looked embarrassed. "That would be Santana calling. Excuse me."
I laughed and followed Rachel into the living room. I watched her in amusement.
"Yes I'm at Quinn's, Santana. How did you know? Finn called you? Hey! Don't call her that. Well, you know Finn just likes to know where I am. What- don't say that! Stop calling Quinn names." Rachel suddenly turned beet red. The fuck?
"Oh God Santana, shut up. And meet Quinn and I at the Starlight tonight. Bring Britts!" Rachel hung up quickly and was still bright red.
I gave her a worried look. "Erm...are you okay?"
The redness was slowly fading. "Uh yeah...Santana is just...inappropriate is all," she stammered.
A knowing smile spread across my face. "What'd she say?"
"Nothing about you! I mean...crap. Nothing."
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