The next morning is rather awkward, as Quinn didn't bother telling the Jones parents that they had a guest. In her defense, a lot happened yesterday. She can't expect to remember everything.
Rachel also gets up at a god-awful time. Six in the freakin' morning? Who the heck does that when school doesn't start for another hour and a half? Alright, so maybe sleep is a bit unnecessary to Quinn at this point, but she appreciates it all the same, thank you. Waking up early just makes people cranky-well, people besides Rachel Berry, apparently. Quinn still has no idea how the other girl does it.
Mercedes, Quinn, and Rachel go to school together, and if Quinn thought that breakfast was weird then she definitely wasn't prepared for this. Mr. and Mrs. Jones just did the typical parent thing-hi, who are you, oh that's nice, small talk. It's all so incredibly polite. Of course, they also cracked a few really lame jokes, but they're not her parents so the only one embarrassed was Mercedes. It's a parent thing (not that Quinn remembers her parents ever embarrassing her with lame jokes. Thank God for small favors).
Mercedes already knows who Rachel is, so that's not a big deal. However, it's not like the two of them have ever gotten along well. They've both got the same type of personality, and Quinn guesses that they end up clashing because of that. It bothers her a bit now, and not just because of the deathly quiet car ride. Mercedes is her friend, and it seems like Rachel is going to be in her life whether Quinn wants her to be or not (although it's nice having someone else who knows). Anyways, it would be so much easier if everyone could get along.
Quinn will have to work on that, but she's not sure what she can do. She's human, not a miracle worker.
…Actually, the human part of that sentence is debatable.
The issue of her humanity aside, Quinn is pretty sure it'll take a miracle of epic proportions to get Mercedes or anyone else in glee to be friends with Rachel. And that's not in the pseudo 'at least they stick up for me' way, she means in the genuine 'I like going to the movies and stuff with you' way. The one Quinn seems to be headed towards, strangely enough.
Of course, it would help if Rachel wasn't so blunt and didn't use so many huge, archaic words. It would also help if she didn't talk so quickly or for so long. But then, Quinn isn't going to admit it out loud, but she kind of likes Rachel the way she is. Instead of changing Rachel, she would rather try to change everyone else instead. Okay, so that sounds a lot more difficult, but hey, Quinn was quite a trend setter back when she was…you know, popular. It's so doable!
Now she just has to figure out how to do it.
Quinn thinks and thinks and thinks about it; through the awkward car ride and through parting with Rachel and Mercedes in the morning to head to math. Just as the beginnings of a plan start to come to her, however, a serious, very distracting problem arises.
She wants to eat her math teacher.
The teacher in question, Mr. Adams, walked past her in those stupid tweed clothes that are really lame, and the urge just struck her suddenly. It was like driving past McDonalds and smelling the food. You know that stuff is disgusting and that you shouldn't eat it, but you can't help but want to anyways. Mr. Adams is like the greasiest, fattiest burger on the menu, and Quinn really doesn't want it but she's so craving it right now. He also looks really chunky and tall and kind of pimply, but it's nothing a lot of ketchup can't fix. Or maybe human tastes better roasted? Boiled? Fried? There are so many ways to prepare food.
It feels eerily like the time she saw everyone as walking food, only this time they look human and still yummy. Quinn covertly wipes the drool off of her face, hoping no one notices, and desperately tries to quell her appetite. Her stomach rumbles, and she's sure that if she still had blood her face would be bright red right now.
"Was there an earthquake in here?" Mr. Adams asks dryly. The class laughs, and Quinn slouches lower into her seat. It's a blessing when the bell finally rings.
The cravings don't leave third period either, even though Quinn ate all of the lunch she packed during passing period. It's not as excruciating, though, so Quinn figures that as long as she's constantly eating it won't be so bad. Everyone else will just think she's a freak.
Anyways, as soon as lunchtime starts Quinn heads straight to the cafeteria to get even more food. Thank god she's pregnant-it gives her an excuse to pig out, and that's something she needs right now. She piles her tray with as much as she can get and, ignoring all the weird looks, proceeds to try and find a safe place to devour it all. It's a bit hard maneuvering through the halls with so much balanced on her tray, but she can deal. Eating is the only thing on her mind right now.
However, the sight of Karofsky and Rachel talking together is a strange enough one that Quinn forgets her irrepressible hunger for a moment. It's replaced by irritation-is that bastard saying something mean and pissy as usual? Quinn marches up to them, ready to step in.
"Hey, preggers," Karofsky greets, but he doesn't seem to in to it. "Shouldn't a girl like you be stuffing your face somewhere else right about now? Looks like you're already halfway there with the food, how about finishing by getting lost." Quinn sneers at him, while Rachel looks back and forth between them.
"And shouldn't an asshole like you be in prison?" Quinn counters, "Or maybe a straitjacket would be better for you. Go away." Karofsky scowls, but gives up without a fight. He walks away, shoulders hunched and feet dragging.
"Quinn," Rachel admonishes, "you shouldn't be so mean to him." Quinn looks at her incredulously.
"Oh yeah, like he's never been mean to you."
"Are you being protective?" the brunette gives her a small smile. "Those are nice intentions, but he really wasn't being aggressive in any way. He just wanted me to meet him afterschool today for some tutoring." She motions towards Quinn's tray. "And don't you want to sit down and eat that?" Rachel begins walking off, and Quinn has no choice but to follow after her.
"Well you're not going, right? The guy's a jerk; you shouldn't trust him."
"He said he's doing really badly in history right now and needed some help. Also, didn't you hear? Karofsky quit the hockey team." Rachel furrows her brow a little. "Apparently he's been incredibly sick-did you notice how pale he looked? And he seemed so lethargic."
"All the more reason why you shouldn't go," Quinn argues, "what if you catch what he's got? You'll be a ton of help at Regionals when you're coughing so much you can't sing, I'm sure." Rachel hesitates at that.
"That's true," she concedes, "Karofsky will just have to find another tutor." Quinn smirks triumphantly and Rachel gives her an amused smile. She grabs Quinn's elbow and guides her through a door. Quinn looks around to find they're in the auditorium. She follows Rachel to some seats, a little in awe of the quiet atmosphere in here.
"Is this where you normally eat?" she whispers. It just feels like a whispering kind of place. Quinn sets herself carefully down, now balancing her tray on her lap.
"Yeah," Rachel whispers back. She eyes Quinn's tray, taking in all the stuff on it. "Where you just craving everything today?" Rachel gets a little wide eyed as Quinn neatly but quickly works on the pile.
"No," Quinn says through a mouthful of one of those cafeteria pizzas, "I'm craving Mexican right now."
"Mexican?" Rachel asks, "Do you mean Mexican food?" She pulls out her own lunch, and the lack of meat is a little shocking to Quinn even though she knew Rachel was a vegan. How can she stand it?
"No," Quinn shakes her head at Rachel's question, "I don't." Rachel looks confused for a moment, before the metaphorical light bulb begins to shine.
"Oh!" She exclaims, scrutinizing Quinn, "Oooh. You mean Mexican people." Rachel gives her a disgusted face, "Quinn, that's mildly disturbing."
"Hey!" Quinn protests, still whispering furiously. "I can't help it! Do you know what I was craving this morning? Math teacher! It was gross! And then after I wanted to try Russian, but there aren't any here!" Rachel puts her hands up in an appeasing gesture, but Quinn can't help but think she's enjoying this way too much.
"Okay, okay," Rachel says comfortingly. "So even when you're a zombie you still have pregnancy cravings?" She glances down at Quinn's stomach, frowning slightly. "You know, I feel terrible, but it seems in all the excitement I completely forgot about the baby…is she a zombie too?"
"We don't know," Quinn tells her, "but probably, yeah. The only way to know for sure is when she's here."
"That seems inconvenient," Rachel says, ignoring Quinn's 'no duh' expression. She goes on to say "Have you given any thought to how you plan on giving birth, if you do give birth at all? I imagine it will be difficult without being able to see a doctor." Quinn groans.
"God, I didn't even think about that!" She exclaims, slapping her palm to her forehead in frustration. "This whole zombie thing is screwing with my life even more than the baby, I swear. Unless," she looks to Rachel with a hopeless expression, "you know anything about delivering babies?"
"No!" Rachel screeches, "Do not even joke about that!" The brunette places a hand to her heart, clearly panicking at the thought. "I'd die…I'd really die!"
"Hey, no need to freak out on me," Quinn says hastily, trying to be consoling, "I was just kidding. I'll figure something out…maybe I can convince Mr. Schue?"
"I can't believe you could even consider the thought of me delivering a baby," Rachel keeps ranting hysterically, "What if I do something wrong? What if she ends up dying? What if you end up dying?"
"Kinda impossible," Quinn remarks.
"That's not the point!" Rachel seems to get even more upset. "The point is that I could potentially make a huge error that will have repercussions. Very bad repercussions! Just thinking about it…You shouldn't make statements like that lightly!"
"Whoa now, calm down," Quinn says, baffled by the level of the other girl's freak out, "I get it-no birthing for Rachel."
"I should hope not!" Rachel tells her, but she starts to relax more. "It would be terrible…I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I messed up."
"Wow," Quinn comments, a bit touched. "It sounds like you really care…about the baby, I mean," she adds.
"Well, of course I care," Rachel responds, "about the baby. What kind of person doesn't care about babies?" she babbles nervously, staring down at her lunch, "they're tiny and innocent and cute. Only an extremely malevolent person would wish death upon a baby; babies need to be protected, like animals are protected in zoos…not that we should put babies in zoos or anything, because that would be wrong. Although sometimes they can be irritating and a lot of work, they're can be so adorable too. So yeah," she finishes awkwardly, "I do care…about babies."
They lapse into an uncomfortable silence heavy with words left unsaid, both eating their lunches without further comment. When it's time to go to their next class, Rachel quietly tells Quinn that she called her dads and they'll be bringing the supplies afterschool, before darting off.
Quinn's next class passes in a blur of hunger and boredom. She doesn't have anything to eat so she finds herself chewing on her pencil a lot, which is kind of gross. Also, she doesn't really know anyone in this class, either, so it's one of her least favorite classes. Quinn sits behind a group of friends who are always chatting, so not only does she have no idea what the teacher says half the time, she also ends up feeling left out. Today is no exception.
"Can you believe it?" the girl in front of her whines to the other one sitting next to her. Quinn doesn't remember their names, so she just refers to them in her head as Thing 1 and Thing 2. The other girl, who is kinda part of the group and kinda not is Wannabe, and the one who needs a new haircut is Shaggy.
"What?" Thing 2 asks, and Thing 1 does a face-palm. Wannabe shakes her head reproachfully and pips up.
"We were talking about that thing with Katie, remember?" Shaggy brushes some hair off her face, but then it promptly covers her eyes again.
"Oh yeah," Shaggy says, "About how she started dating that guy you wanted, right?" She sighs heavily, superiorly. "And you two were such good friends."
"Ooohh," Thing 2 finally clues in on the discussion, "yeah, I heard about that. You two had a total catfight right in the middle of the hallway over him. I dunno why-it's not like he's a Finn Hudson or anything."
"It's because I wanted him that she started chasing after him," Thing 1 snaps, "the bitch. It just goes to show that people can't be trusted."
"Yeah," Wannabe agrees vehemently, "people are all backstabbing, selfish, no good, lying, scheming bastards!" The group stares at her silently for a moment, before continuing as if she hadn't spoken.
"Anyways," Thing 1 mutters, brows furrowed angrily, "I've learned my lesson. My trust in people is only going to be as long as Ms. Sylvester's hair…especially when it comes to secrets like who I like."
"That's right!" Wannabe responds enthusiastically.
"If anyone should know about people blurting out secrets," Quinn says quietly, joining the conversation, "it should be me."
The group sizes her up, taking in her relaxed posture. Their eyes linger on her baby bump, and Quinn knows they're thinking about who she is; who she was. They might still be afraid of her, or they might still respect her, or it might be curiosity, or (God forbid) they might pity her, but whatever the reason they let her join them without comment.
"But to be fair," Shaggy says lightly, flipping her hair uselessly, "Your secrets were pretty hard to keep hidden."
"Not for lack of trying," Thing 2 consoles her, "but really, even someone as stupid as Brittany would have noticed." Quinn bristles a bit at this, because Brittany is-was-her friend, but she keeps her expression friendly.
"You're right, of course," Quinn hums in agreement. "I also had people like JewFro watching me, and we all know that…weasel…loves to tattle." She gives the girls a sympathetic smile. "And then there are people who take advantage."
"Like Katie," Thing 1 spits out with venom. She looks at Quinn, commiserating with her. "You've heard, I'm sure." Quinn nods, the picture of compassion.
"Definitely," she says. She pauses, tilting her head thoughtfully. "Do you think all people are malicious like that?" They all stare at each other, waiting for someone to say something. Quinn, recognizing a lost cause when she sees one, goes on.
"I mean, there are guys like JewFro and girls like Katie," she sighs, "It feels like no one helps each other out anymore. Friends one day, backstabbers the next-there's something wrong with that."
"Yeah…" Wannabe agrees hesitantly, before repeating herself with more confidence, "Yeah!"
"I don't think I can name one person who I can trust unconditionally," Thing 1 says decisively, "even my parents blab my embarrassing details to our relatives all the time!"
"Hmm," Shaggy ponders, "I suppose someone trustworthy like that would be pretty valuable. I'd like that kind of person on my side."
"Yeah," Quinn hides her smile, putting on a contemplative expression, "the whole baby thing really keyed me in on all the people in my life who can't really be trusted." She frowns. "That ended up being a ton of them."
"Not one person helped you out?" Thing 2 says, sounding appalled. Tch, as if she wouldn't have done the same.
"No," Quinn responds, pushing down her resentment and disgust for the people she's talking to, "even Finn ended up telling my parents about it." She sighs, massaging her temples exaggeratedly. Quinn then looks up suddenly, as if realizing something.
"But…" She begins, and then trails off. The others look at her expectantly.
"What?" Thing 1 asks curiously. Quinn shakes her head.
"Nothing. It's nothing."
"It doesn't sound like nothing," Thing 2 objects. Quinn bites her lip, before leading them on some more.
"I heard a rumor…" She says slowly, "but I dunno; I can't really believe it."
"Spit it out," Shaggy tells her impatiently, "I bet I've heard it too."
"Yeah," Wannabe says, nodding enthusiastically, "Me too; I've heard rumors! Say it, say it!"
"I heard…" Quinn responds softly, "…that Rachel Berry actually bribed JewFro to keep quiet about my pregnancy." She gives them a moment to digest that, and then scoffs. "Unbelievable, right? I mean, do you think she'd actually do something like that for me? I should probably just go to the person who told me that rumor and slushy them or something." She gazes at each of them. "I never pegged Rachel as the secret keeper kind-she always seemed like such a blabbermouth, you know? It's probably not true. You two heard the rumor too-what did you think about it?"
Shaggy and Wannabe, caught, think about it seriously and try to come up with the 'right' answer.
"Of course I've heard it," Shaggy says superiorly, "and I honestly don't know whether I believe it either."
"It is weird to think Rachel would help someone like you out-she's a loser, what does she want with us popular people?" Wannabe agrees.
"I cheated on my test once," Thing 2 says, "and Rachel told the teacher."
"I guess I never should have believed it," Quinn shrugs, "but for a second I actually thought-if you ignore her voice, maybe she can be okay. It must have been a bout of insanity or something."
"It must've," Thing 1 nods, but then hesitates. "But…she did help me out with…a problem…once, albeit in an annoying and superior and long winded way. And she didn't tell anyone about it…I think. I've tried to repress the memory."
"What was it?" Thing 2 asks, intrigued.
"Nothing!" Thing 1 says hastily. "I've repressed, repressed!" She flushes. "I was only being the…whatever they call it, the other side thing."
"Devil's advocate?" Quinn supplies.
"No!" Thing 1 objects, "I'm not evil or anything. Jeez." She looks put out. "I was trying to be nice and stuff."
"Rachel's smart," Wannabe says, nodding sagely, "I cheated off her test once and she didn't say anything. I got an A too!" Quinn privately thinks it must be because Rachel didn't notice, but she doesn't say anything.
"Why didn't she let me?" Thing 2 asks, looking upset.
"Maybe it's because you did something to her," Thing 1 guesses. Thing 2 looks guilty.
"I may have given her a slushy facial…but it was only once!"
"I've never slushied anyone!" Wannabe says proudly, but then thinks about it and realizes that that may not be a good thing. "I mean…I've gotten Jacob once, but not Rachel. That must be why."
"But the rumor," Quinn says, trying to steer the conversation again, "what about the rumor?"
"I don't know!" Thing 1 throws up her arms in exasperation, "It might be true but the hell if I know why. I just don't get the way that girl's head works."
"When they're that far down on the social ladder, something is bound to be a bit screwy about them," Shaggy says contemplatively, "maybe she hears voices in her head that tell her to do stuff. I've heard about those."
"I've heard about the voices too," Wannabe whispers conspiratorially, "there's a rumor that Rachel can hear them. The whole sixth sense thing, you know."
"Didn't I just say that?" Shaggy asks, confused.
"No," Wannabe insists, "it was a rumor and I heard it. There was also a rumor that Rachel is actually nice, but that's a bit doubtful."
"Didn't Quinn say that earlier?" Shaggy points out. Quinn shakes her head.
"No," Quinn says innocently, "I didn't say that. But I think I might have heard the same thing as…you. Who hasn't?" She really hopes Wannabe doesn't realize Quinn has no idea what her name is.
"Okay, then, whatever," Thing 2 says dismissively, "if everyone's heard it, then of course I've heard it too. I just couldn't remember earlier…and I guess I could believe the rumor. Maybe."
"Well, even Rachel Berry is better than Katie," Thing 1 nods decisively, "maybe next time I have to gush about the cutie in my science class I should do it with someone who wouldn't tattle on me. Or try to steal him." Quinn feels that mentioning how Rachel tried to steal Finn would be a bad idea, so she doesn't. It should be fine, though, as long as said cutie can't sing.
"What, so you're replacing your supposed BFF with Rachel Berry, of all people?" Shaggy scoffs incredulously. "I think you've seriously lost your mind."
"Well with a BFF like Katie, anyone would be better," Thing 1 snaps, "and it's not like you're great at making friends either-remember that incident last year with the Homecoming dresses?" Shaggy gasps, outraged. Then she narrows her eyes angrily, although the effect is dampened since they're hidden behind her hair.
"Maybe you're right," Shaggy says, "maybe I am bad at picking out friends. I'm friends with you, after all."
"Rachel Berry is definitely a better friend than you, too!" Thing 1 screeches, "She's probably way nicer and trustworthier and stuff! You troll!"
"Well if I'm under Rachel Berry status, then you are too," Shaggy retorts crossly, "there's a rumor that she helped Quinn out with her pregnancy-what've you ever done for me? I bet she's awesomer than you!"
"Girls!" the teacher snaps, "Can you stop fighting over whoever it is and start paying attention to the class?"
They all look up to see that the teacher is glaring at them and their classmates are hanging on to their every word. Thing 1 and Shaggy flush bright red and avert their eyes immediately, slinking down into their seats. As soon as they quiet down, however, the rest of the room bursts into chatter. The teacher slams her ruler on the whiteboard a few times until everyone finally shuts up and then, scowling, continues the lesson.
Quinn leans back, smirking. She knows that by the end of school tomorrow, the rumors that have been planted here today will be all over the school and no one will remember exactly who it was that started it all. And she's right, of course. Rumors spread like wildfire. There are dozens about the event alone-on why they were arguing, on Rachel Berry. People trade stories-an offhand comment about psychic abilities, something about a secret keeper, people screaming in class about her awesomeness. Soon, no one can remember the exact events. What Quinn doesn't realize or expect, however, is that her involvement in the debacle did not go unnoticed and rumors about the relationship between Quinn and Rachel explode just as much as the others (thanks to a certain blog). But that's another story.
Anyways…
So Quinn just helped make a bunch of new rumors for the terrifying rumor mill of McKinley. So what?
Well, maybe a lot of the rumors are about the craziness of Thing 1 and Shaggy, but there are also a lot of new ones about Rachel, too. Ones that are actually kind of positive-or at least not really bad. Compared to what was going around before, these new ones are way better. And honestly, Rachel's image is so bad among the populace and her infamy is so well known that this can only help. It may not make everyone like Rachel or anything, but it'll probably make her seem interesting or intriguing instead of just plain old annoying. It's a start.
After school, Quinn grabs the stuff she needs from Rachel, who hurries off with her dads to ballet class right after. Her dads gaze at Quinn curiously and there may or may not have been the stink eye involved, but Quinn doesn't want to assume. She's a little apprehensive of dealing with them, and therefore is kind of glad Rachel has to rush off so there's no time for awkward small talk. She has no idea how much (or exactly what) they know about her, but she isn't really eager to find out.
When they get home, Mercedes dives into her room to do who-knows-what, and Quinn heads straight to her own. She throws open the door unceremoniously and tosses her bags onto the bed before flopping herself down on her stomach and sighing heavily. Frank gives a quiet cough.
"Are we all clear?" he whispers, his voice low and authoritative. "No eyes on the wall?"
"Yeah," Quinn can't help but smile at his antics, "The walls are eye-free."
"So it's five-by-five? Cool. You got the loot?"
"Yeah," Quinn says noncommittally, "I got it." She buries her head in the downy pillow, just wanting to go to sleep right now and push school and zombie-ness to the side. Can't a girl get a break? Or at least a five minute nap?
"Well," Frank begins impatiently, "aren't we going to start working or what?" At Quinn's frustrated groan, Frank sighs. "No hands, remember? Get your butt up and help me out." He pauses for a moment, thinking, and then says "Oh, and we're going to need a guinea pig."
"To test the stuff out on? Won't I work?" Quinn says into her pillow. It comes out a bit muffled, but somehow Frank still manages to understand what she's saying.
"That…" he trails off. Quinn waits for a follow up, perhaps a snarky comment of some kind, but Frank doesn't continue and the room descends into quiet for a long moment. It's unexpected and strange enough that Quinn props her head up on her elbow and stares at the closed closet door. Since when does Frank not know what to say?
"Are you still there?" She asks tentatively.
"…Ah, yeah," Frank says slowly. He sounds uncomfortable. "…You know I don't have this whole cure thing down. If…if I mess up, it would be good to have it be on someone else, wouldn't it? I don't think it'd be a good idea to use you as our guinea pig."
"Okay," Quinn replies, still a bit wigged from the silence earlier. She thinks about it though, and figures that even people like Frank can have quiet moments, too. It was probably nothing. "So I bet this means you'll want me to find another zombie too." Quinn closes her eyes in despair at the thought-it seems like just after she's crossed one hurdle another one instantly rises to take its place. How the heck is she supposed to do this? What, do they expect her to just walk up to random people and say 'hey, I'm making a cure for the zombie virus-you wanna help out'? Yeah, like that'll work.
"I hate you," she sighs. Frank ignores her.
A/N: Okay, so this chapter is up so late because I didn't have contact with a computer for like a week. My apologies. Also, it's kind of all over the place because I didn't write it all out at the same time-when I did get my computer back it chose to go on the fritz and keeps shutting off randomly while I'm in the middle of typing. So basically, I keep losing my writing and I end up having to stop and when I get it back up my mood is different and stuff. It's hair-rippingly annoying. Hopefully, though, I'll be updating again soon...
Anyways, it's cool that the blog thing was taken well-I felt like maybe I exaggerated too much or something. As for the usernames-some of them were from glee, some weren't. I felt really uncreative when coming up with them, which is why you got stuff like Toyota(Mercedes), g-g-goffickchick(Tina), and wheels(Artie). Obviously Brittany was Brittany, and THEscariestgirl was Santana. ahockeysticklookslikemy- is supposed to be Karofsky for the simple reason that it has the word hockey in it(and it's a rhyme...I'm sure you can figure it out if you think about it, it felt like the sort of thing a moron like him would say). NPHfan is Kurt, because NPH stands for Neil Patrick Harris(he played Bryan Ryan) who is an amazing singer and has been on Broadway, and also happens to be gay. GWTWHP is Puck, and his acronym is what Jacob calls him in the blog.
Besides that, it seems like there are a lot of what's-gonna-happen-to-Beth questions-I'm not answering them anytime soon, but rest assured: I do have a plan. You, and I, will just have to wait patiently until it's revealed...even if I really wanna tell you. :(
Kenmura: alright, you got me; I really didn't have an explanation. I was thinking I could go with strip poker or something, but then I was like 'oh, what about the head?' I think Frank came up with the best one when he said roleplaying, but there's no way Rachel and Quinn would have used that one. :P
