Chapter 7: Meltdown

Nearing the end of their Scrabble game, they were neck and neck, and Rachel was freaking out. Scrabble was her game! How did Quinn manage to compete with her like this? She knew the girl was smart, but she would have thought her extensive vocabulary would have far exceeded Quinn's nonetheless. Yet the blonde was more than holding her own.

Of course, she was extremely competitive by nature, but she hadn't cared so much about their Battleship game since she hardly paid attention to what she was doing. Instead, she'd spent the time going over her carefully laid plans in her head for how to initiate further conversation with Quinn that would deepen their understanding of each other as well as their...whatever.

Scrabble, however, was a different matter entirely! She never lost a game – the undisputed, undefeated Champion of the Berry household starting at the tender age of five. This was one game Quinn would not win.

While Rachel plotted her last word, the blonde grew bored and impatient, meandering over to one of the shelves to look through DVDs.

"You're taking too long! This is not life and death - it's not even chess - it's Scrabble!"

"I'm allowed as much time as I need to consider all possibilities, Quinn! Don't rush me!"

"Next time, we're using a timer," she muttered. "Ugh, are these all the movies you have? Isn't there anything that was filmed in the last thirty years?"

"They're called classics. Don't be so closed-minded, I happen to believe you would greatly enjoy any one of them."

"Do your Dads have anything better?" she whined.

"They have their own collection downstairs, below the TV in the den, now shush! I have to focus."

Exasperated, Quinn went off in search of something more suitable for them to watch, returning ten minutes later with several DVDs in her arms.

"Something to be said for their taste," she remarked. "They've got some awesome-"

"Shhh!"

"You haven't gone yet? Rachel!"

"I'm still thinking," she protested.

"Enough is enough. Go or I'm not playing anymore." She dumped the movies on the bed before sitting back down on the floor.

Frowning deeply, Rachel gave in and put her word down with a dissatisfied huff.

Copulation.

Quinn raised an eyebrow. "I wasn't aware we were playing the dirty version. I could have gotten into that."

Rachel rolled her eyes and added up her score, pleased to see that she had finally surged ahead of Quinn enough to make a difference. She would have to find something worth 30 points to beat her.

"No way are you going to win this one, blondie. You may have defeated me in a game of strategy, but this is about verbosity and we all know that's a talent of mine behind only the performing arts and single-minded ambition."

Quinn narrowed her eyes. "Care to make it interesting?"

"A bet?" Rachel perked up eagerly.

"Winner picks the movie."

"Done! You're going to love An Affair to Remember."

She ignored her, pondering over it for a few seconds and then deftly placed her word on the board.

Tantalizing.

The brunette's mouth dropped open.

"So…that's 22, plus the triple word score, plus the points from your words cause I used the 'n' and 't' here, thank you sweetie, which leaves me with 80 points to a grand total of 425, although I should probably get extra for following your 'naughty' theme. Doesn't matter. Devil Wears Prada it is!"

Quinn lifted her eyebrow for that oh-so-familiar HBIC smirk of victory.

Rachel barely resisted the urge to toss the board across the room. She forced Quinn to sit there as she added up the points again just to be sure there was no mistake. It took three separate recalculations and several (twelve) rebuffed demands for a rematch before she had to resign herself to the fact that Quinn did indeed win fair and square.

Then after some (a lot of) reassurance, Quinn managed to pry the dictionary out of girl's hands, while she fiercely protested, insisting that she needed to study as she had obviously grown indolent and complacent if Quinn was able to beat her, which prompted a round of bickering with Quinn wanting to know just what she meant by that.

Finally, they settled in to watch the movie which Rachel really wasn't looking forward to. She thought these kinds of movies were ridiculous. However, about ten minutes later she was the one getting into it, while Quinn was more interested in watching Rachel than the screen.

They were curled up under a blanket on Rachel's bed, resting against pillows and the headboard. There was enough space between them to be considered respectable - only their elbows were grazing - and it was driving Quinn insane. After a few moments of internal debate, she entwined their hands and let them rest on her lap. Rachel smiled but didn't say anything, never taking her eyes off the movie.

Quinn had thought the additional contact would have made it better, but the desire for more only increased. Tracing light circles over the back of her hand, she was mesmerized by the feeling of Rachel's soft skin beneath her fingertips, the butterflies that filled her chest, the way her heart raced, intoxicated by the delicious scent of her shampoo since she was so close, but still much too far. Quinn turned Rachel's hand over and stroked the palm before raking over it lightly with her nails. Rachel bit her lip, but still didn't look her way.

Quinn never thought she could feel like this before, wanting someone so much. She'd felt affection, inklings of attraction, but nothing like this. She'd never desired.

Sometimes she felt like Rachel wasn't just her first kiss, she was her first everything.

After a few minutes more of innocent handholding exploration, she couldn't take it anymore and shifted closer, bringing her body flush against Rachel's side and kissed the sweet spot just below the brunette's ear.

"Quinn," Rachel said a bit breathlessly, "Need I remind you that you're the one who wanted to watch this?"

"Found something better," she replied simply.

Rachel finally turned to face her and Quinn seized the opportunity. Their mouths fused eagerly and the movie was forgotten.


Another weekend spent with Rachel, another Monday with Sam interrogating her about why she never had time for him anymore, another week of sneaking around, and Quinn was lost. She didn't want anything to change and yet she wanted everything to.

She let Sam talk her into a date on Friday night. It wasn't like she really had a choice anyway. They hadn't gone out in ages and if she really intended to keep dating him, that included going on actual dates, right?

She didn't tell Rachel about her plans. What was the point? It would only needlessly upset her and Quinn was not prepared to broach the subject again after the compromise they'd come to in the bathroom that day…too much, too soon.

Instead, she made up an excuse about having to hang with Santana and Brittany. Rachel didn't protest, only appeared slightly disappointed. Quinn wished she could tell her how disappointed she was too.

Sam took her to Color Me Mine. He chose a plate; she chose a coffee mug. He painted their names together in the center, but refused to let her see until the end when he held it up with a shy, goofy sort of smile that made her feel like the worst person in the world.

Quinn painted gold stars.

He took her to the new Mexican restaurant in a neighboring town and they had a good time. In all honesty, Quinn enjoyed spending time with Sam. It's why she started going out with him in the first place. He was sweet and honest and he made her smile. It didn't hurt that he was attractive, had a solidified top position on the football team, social stature, and making out with him was not a hardship. She considered him a real friend, if nothing else.

But even when laughing at a joke he made or them aimlessly chatting with him about what was going on in school or Glee club, Quinn couldn't keep her mind off a certain brunette. She wasn't miserable being with Sam, she was miserable being without Rachel. There was also that nagging part where the entire basis of her relationship with him was a lie…and she was cheating on him. That didn't help.

Sam brought her home. Her Mom was out, and they settled onto the couch to watch a movie they had picked up on the way back.

"Is everything okay with you?" he asked as they sat next to each other with a good distance between them, as in not touching in the least.

"Of course," she answered lightly, "Why wouldn't it be?"

"Well, I gotta say I've been trying really hard these last few weeks not to get paranoid."

Oh, no. Please don't do this. Please don't start.

"I mean, when we're together, you always seem like you're somewhere else. And you're not even around much anymore. This is the first night we've gone out in weeks. I don't wanna be this whiny, clingy guy who has to beg his girl just to hang with him once in a while…and I feel like you're turning me into that. Did I do something wrong? Are you mad at me? Just tell me and I'll fix it somehow."

She forced a smile. That sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach was getting worse. "No, I'm not mad at you. I swear. I've just been busy, that's all. And we're together right now, aren't we? We had fun tonight."

"Did we? Cause you didn't seem to."

"I like spending time with you, Sam," she said honestly. "I'm sorry if I've made you feel like I don't."

"But there's something going on," he pressed. "You've been acting differently. If it's not me, then what is it?"

"There's nothing," she said firmly. "We're going to watch the movie now."

He grumbled something inaudibly, but sat back and crossed his arms in resignation. Quinn felt guilt mixed with relief as she reached for the remote.

"Turn off the light?" she asked as he moved closer.

He got up to hit the switch, blanketing them in darkness except for the screen's glow. As Quinn went to the menu screen and hit play, she realized that he hadn't returned to his seat. Looking over wonderingly, the lights went back on. Sam was already heading for the coat rack to get his jacket.

"I'm not in the mood for a movie," he said crossly.

"What? Why? I even let you pick it out this time! It's not like I'm dying to see aliens chase the human race into extinction."

"Just not in the mood," he repeated. "I think I'm gonna call it a night. See you later."

"Sam!" she said in disbelief, stumbling off the couch. "Sam, wait, don't go. Why are you so upset?"

"I'm not." He shrugged, but his body language screamed otherwise. "Night, Quinn."

He was out the door before she could say another word, without so much as a kiss goodbye.

Quinn really had no idea what to do now. She, of course, expected to face some fierce inquiries from the boy about her absentee behavior, but nothing to this extent. Sam was always pretty easy going and entirely too gullible. He usually believed everything she said.

But she might have pushed him too far this time. It was a hole Quinn wasn't sure she could get out of.

Did she even want out of it? Wouldn't she have tried harder to convince him and make him feel better if this relationship were what she really wanted?

Shutting off the TV, she trudged up the stairs to her room and wondered if she should call Rachel. That was something she wanted, whether or not she was going to do it…

Dammit. That girl couldn't have been more right. She was still trying to make herself want all the things that her parents taught her to. Why bother denying it at this point? It wasn't even hidden thoughts and longing anymore. It was real; it was happening, and still she was trying to straddle the nonexistent line - hurting people in the process.

She needed to make this decision once and for all. Rachel didn't understand the full extent of what Quinn was facing, she had it so much easier, but that wasn't an excuse. Even if she couldn't be publically open about…who she is…she could still be honest with herself. The world didn't have to know. Quinn had to know.

She picked up her cell and scrolled to Rachel's name, her thumb hovering over the send button for a moment before she just put it back down.

Not right now.

Deciding it was late enough, and she did have to be up early for Saturday practice tomorrow, she was about to undress for bed, when suddenly her door was thrown open.

"What are you doing?" she cried, looking at an extremely disheveled and angry Sam.

"I've been sitting in my truck for the last ten minutes trying to talk myself out of this, trying to believe you, trying to find any way I can to understand this, but I can't, Quinn!"

"Sam, wha-"

"You're cheating on me," he said flatly.

"No, I'm not."

The answer was so automatic and instinctive that she didn't have to think about it for the words to fly out.

"Yes, you are," he replied determinedly. "The lying's gonna stop right now. I don't deserve this crap! I'm pretty, but I ain't dumb. Tell me the truth. Admit it once and for all! Are you cheating?"

The words weren't coming anymore. She could only stare at him.

He took a shuddering breath and nodded as if she had actually answered, tugging his hands through already messy hair. "Right. Who is it? Does he go to our school? Is it Finn? Puck? Who?"

"It doesn't matter," she said faintly.

"THE HELL IT DOESN'T!"

She flinched. Sam never raised his voice to her. In fact, she didn't think she'd heard him yell ever.

"Tell me who the guy is! I have a right to know. You owe me at least that much!"

"I can't-"

He stormed into the room further, angry, but not out of control. She knew he was upset and it hurt her heart to know that she was the cause. She wasn't afraid of Sam, but she was afraid of what was about to happen.

"Tell-me-who-he-is," he said through gritted teeth. "Fuck, Quinn! You've been playing me for a sap and you don't even have the decency to be honest even now after you've been caught in your lies? TELL ME WHO HE IS!"

Hearing the rage in his voice, the voice of a sweet boy who'd been nothing but kind to her, had Quinn wallowing in despair. She'd brought this out in him. Then there was the pain in his eyes. She'd done that too. She'd taken him in and turned him upside down with no other thought than for her own purposes.

'Who cares about him?' she'd said to Rachel. 'He's nothing.'

As Quinn watched him now, angry, trembling, and so completely devastated, she realized how wrong she was. Who cared about him? She cared. She'd treated him like nothing. But he wasn't nothing.

"Rachel," she whispered.

Sam closed his eyes in exasperation and scrubbed his face hard. "What about Rachel?" he snapped impatiently.

"It's Rachel," she said again, louder this time.

He still wasn't getting it though.

"What is Rachel? What are you talking about?"

Oh for…

"You asked me who it is and I'm telling you! I've been cheating on you with Rachel!"

He stared at her dumbly. "Rachel's a girl's name."

She felt like smacking him.

"Yes, Sam," she replied in a tightly controlled voice, "Rachel Berry."

"Y-you've been cheating on me w-with Rachel Berry?" he stammered. "A girl? Quinn! Are you seriously telling me you're…you're…"

"I'm gay."

And whatever semblance of control she'd been holding on to in the last few minutes, finally gave way. She burst out sobbing in the worst of ways. It was the painful kind, and it hurt her chest and burned her eyes.

She didn't even have the strength to stand anymore and fell against the wall, sliding to the floor. Her body was not her own as she cried violently into her hands. It took her some time to realize that there was someone else sitting beside her, arms around her shoulders, soft whispers of reassurance against her ear.

"I'm so sorry," she sobbed and the arms around her tightened and Quinn threw herself into his embrace, burying her head against his shoulder.

She wasn't sure how long she went on like that. All she knew was that she cried for so long, she didn't have tears anymore. It was just wracking sobs that hurt with each and every expansion of her lungs. He had his arms wrapped so fiercely around her, it was like he was afraid to let go.

Slowly, her breathing began to even out once more. She only shuddered every now and then, and then she wasn't crying anymore. She stayed there like that, quiet, enveloped in Sam's strong arms. Even though every part of her ached, both physically and otherwise, and he'd just witnessed something she never let anyone see before in her life, Quinn was grateful to have him there.

She didn't want to be alone anymore.

"When did you put that hole in your wall?" he asked out of the blue.

It was oddly jarring to hear his voice again after such a prolonged silence. Quinn had to repeat what he said in her head twice before she even understood the question. From where they were sitting, Sam had a direct line of sight to the small hole she'd tried to cover up by putting a waste basket in front of it. He must have knocked it out of the way when he ran in.

"Few weeks ago," she replied hoarsely.

"Hurt your foot?"

"Yeah," she sighed. "How did you know?"

"That you kicked it? I'm a guy. I'm an expert on holes in the wall. We make them often enough."

"What am I gonna do?" she whispered. "God, Sam…"

"You're going to be fine," he whispered back, never letting his hold slacken.

The panic bubbled up in her. FINE? It wasn't going to be FINE! Her life was over! She was ruined! She'd just admitted the one thing she could never be and what would become of her now? She'd lost everything.

"No! I can't be this way!" she shrieked and pushed against him until he let her break away. "I'll… Don't you get what will happen to me? You've met my parents, Sam! You've heard the kind of stuff they say. My mother may have been able to get over the teen pregnancy thing, but this? If she finds out that I'm… I'll be kicked out again! They'll disown me. I'll have nothing. I'll be a waitress at Breadstix, no future to speak of, forever a Lima loser. That is if Daddy doesn't have me run out of town. I can't be like this! It's wrong! Why am I so unbelievably screwed up?"

"Quinn!" he said in disbelief. "There is nothing wrong with you." Sam got on his knees in front of her and put his hands on either side of her face so that she would look at him. "We don't get to choose who we love," he said softly. "Just take me. Apparently, I fell in love with a girl who only likes other girls. You think I would have picked that? You're so amazing, Quinn. You're smart, beautiful, talented, and one of the best people I know. No matter what your parents say, love is love, and you should never be ashamed of that."

If she had tears left, she would have been crying again, but instead she just pulled him back into her arms and let him hold her. Sam sighed and gathered her closer, resting his cheek against the top of her head.

After a minute, he muttered, "You know…I just got dumped by my girlfriend who was cheating on me and yet I'm the one doing the comforting here? Somehow I think we got this backwards."

Her stomach twinged with guilt and she lifted her head up forlornly, only to see teasing eyes looking back.

"I don't know if it's supposed to make me feel better or worse that you're chucking me for a girl…"

It was unsettling to hear him talk about this so casually when it meant just about the end of the world for her. Yet, it somehow felt right too.

"Both?" she replied with a hopeful shrug.

"Yep," he nodded and rubbed her shoulder lightly, "that's pretty much what it feels like. Probably should be better though, right? Cause it means there's nothing I can do. I mean, I can't change into a girl, can I? If it had been another dude…then there's something I could have done to hold on to you, but this way…" He trailed off with a shake of his head.

"I really care about you, Sam. Tell me you know that."

"I know that."

She wasn't sure if she believed him.

"It's gonna be okay, you know."

"I know."

She wasn't sure if she believed herself either.

He heaved a sigh. "Look, since you just dumped me and all, for a chick no less, I'm gonna need some space for a while, just to sort my head out and do some majorly dumb guy-type stuff to boost my totally wrecked self confidence, but…" He looked at her with a sad sort of smile. "I want you to know that I still would like to be your friend – if that's cool."

"Really?" she said in disbelief, sitting up out of his arms. "You'd still want to…even after what I did?"

"After some space," he clarified again, "but yeah. I really care about you. Rather have us be friends than nothing."

And she thought there were no more tears left. She had to wipe away the ones rolling down her cheek at this boy's extraordinary kindness. How could she not have known what she had? How could she have been so blind?

Don't answer that.

Sam was hesitant to leave, but after numerous reassurances from Quinn and an airtight promise from him never to repeat a word of what happened tonight, he reluctantly let himself be led to the door. She was sure she still looked a mess, puffy eyes and all, but it didn't matter. A weight had lifted off her shoulders. She didn't exactly feel better for it, but she did feel lighter. He opened the door, but then turned around to pull her back into his arms for a bear hug.

How did he always know when to hug her at just the right time? He'd always been able to do that. She never realized it before.

"Thank you," she murmured as he let go. "For…everything."

"See you around, Quinn." He gave her a little half smile and went down the front steps. She watched him get into his truck and drive away before closing the door.

She avoided Rachel for the rest of the weekend.