Title: I'm Still Waiting for the Rain to Fall
Author: anan0maly
Summary: ...pour real life down on me...
Pairing: Eventual Rachel/Quinn
Rating: PG to NC-17
Word Count: 49,000+ (so far)
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters unfortunately. Title belongs to Evanescence's 'Good Enough'.
Betas: My friends Aimee and Alma. :) Thank you both so so much.
Part Six:
& ! & ! &
Quinn woke early on Saturday morning to a completely silent house. She smiled lazily as she pulled the covers up to her chin and buried her head in her pillow. The sun filtered through her sheer curtains illuminating her room. It was cold out, but with the heating on, Quinn felt warm and safe in her bed.
The buzzing of her phone against the wood of her bedside table disturbed the quiet of her room. Quinn slowly reached an arm out to her phone. As soon as she had it in her grasp she quickly snapped her arm back and buried it under the covers. The difference in temperature caused goosebumps to rise on her arm and neck.
She pressed the center button on her iPhone then slid her thumb across the screen. A text message from Brittany greeted her.
'Valerie Stephens is fighting S for Head Cheerio. Lunch at 'Soup's On' later?'
Quinn reread the message three times. Checking the time at the top of her screen she saw it was 8:56am. 'Why are you guys up so early?'
She only had to wait a few seconds for a reply. '*You're* up. Lunch?' Quinn rolled her eyes.
'I haven't had breakfast yet. I'll get back to you.'
Quinn would normally have jumped at the chance to get out of the house and meet up for lunch with Brittany and Santana, even if they did spend almost the entire time sitting in each other's laps, hands fumbling under the table. But today Quinn was contemplating a different set of plans. Last night she'd tried to concentrate on her Spanish homework, but her thoughts had continued to drift to Rachel Berry. Try as she might not to involve herself, she couldn't help but think that Rachel needed a stern talking to about controlling parents.
She continued to lie in bed for another half an hour devising a plan of attack, because that's exactly what it would be - an attack, of sorts.
Apart from the night of the Invitational, Quinn had only ever met the Berrys once before. She knew that just turning up on their doorstep would seem suspicious, especially as she and Rachel were barely acquaintances in and out of Glee. Before Elizabeth had been born there might have been an opportunity for the two to forge a tentative friendship, but being kicked out of Finn's house, living with the Hummels and her issues with Puck had forced her to focus on the baby's needs. The friendships she'd formed with Kurt and Mercedes had been born out of proximity rather than necessity, but she didn't regret them.
If she were to be invited into the Berry home she would need a good excuse, and an appropriate wardrobe. She didn't think the Berry's would mind all that much about her attire, but she was trying to make a good impression and if her parents had taught her anything at all, 90% of a good impression was dependent on wardrobe.
Sighing, Quinn knew she'd have to slip into one of her dresses. She hadn't worn a dress since Ellie had been born. She'd made a conscious effort to stick to jeans and t-shirts since moving back home because she loved the twitch in her mother's eye when Judy would notice Quinn's less than feminine attire.
Finally deciding it was probably time to get out of bed; Quinn made a move for the kitchen to prepare some brunch. It was already nearing 10am and she still needed to eat, shower and change before heading over to Rachel's.
& ! & ! &
Quinn smoothed down her hair and then her dress. She picked up her English folder and book from the front step and held them against her hip in her left hand. She took a deep breath and pressed the doorbell.
"There's no business like show business, like no business I know."
"Oh my God," Quinn whispered to herself as the lyrics reached her ears, slightly muffled through the front door. She wondered how she was even surprised at anything Berry-related anymore. As the seconds ticked by and there was no answer, she began to fidget.
Quinn suddenly realized that this was probably, most likely, a really bad idea. Just as she began to turn around and head back home, the front door swung open to reveal Rachel's tall, dark-skinned father.
"Hi!" Quinn greeted in a perky voice spinning back around to face Mr. Berry. She lifted her right hand up in a sort of wave while James narrowed his eyes at her.
Quinn was worried by his look when his face suddenly brightened and he grinned down at her. "Quinn, right?" He asked opening the door wider.
Quinn nodded with a smile. Her heart rate was slightly elevated and she held back a sigh of relief at his friendly tone. "I was wondering if Rachel was home? We have English together and I was wondering if I could borrow her notes." She moved her books to cover her front and shuffled her feet slightly.
A small frown came over James' face. "Rachel's at her dance class, but she should be home in about twenty minutes. Did you want to come in and wait? Have you had lunch?" He asked as he stood to the side and held his arm out, inviting her inside.
"Um..." she began, chewing on her bottom lip. She hadn't anticipated how welcoming Rachel's father would be. She also wasn't sure if she could survive twenty minutes inside the Berry house. "Maybe I should come back?" She asked with uncertainty and a thumb pointing toward her car.
James shook a hand in front of his face as if to wave her suggestion off. "Nonsense. I just made chocolate chocolate-chip cupcakes. They need to be eaten."
Before she could protest further, Quinn found herself being ushered past the front entrance, down the hall adorned with family portraits and toward the kitchen.
"Sit, sit," James said guiding Quinn into a stool at the kitchen island. She placed her folder and book down on the counter top before returning her hands to her lap.
"With or without frosting?" He asked as he placed two trays of cupcakes in front of her.
Quinn thought about the look on her mother's face had she been present. Judy Fabray would have turned her nose up at either choice, but she would have commented on the sugar and fat content in the frosting. Quinn reached for a cupcake with what looked like vanilla frosting.
"Oooh, good choice," James said, his eyes lighting up. "Don't mind if I eat one too."
Quinn smiled a little as she held her cupcake in her left hand. She used the index finger on her right hand to swipe a little of the frosting off the top to taste it. She couldn't help the involuntary moan that escaped at the delicious taste and texture of the confectionary.
"That good?" James asked with a glint in his eye.
Quinn nodded as she took a second, bigger swipe of the frosting. "I craved vanilla while I was preg - " Quinn looked down at the countertop. Talking about her teen pregnancy probably was on the list of things not to talk about when trying to make a good impression. "I just really like vanilla," she finished softly as she toyed with the paper wrapped around the bottom of the cupcake. She wasn't embarrassed about Elizabeth, not anymore. She loved her daughter and she had made hard choices to ensure she could provide Ellie with the possibility of a promising future, but she was still subjected to sidelong glances and judging stares.
"How is your daughter?" James asked with a small smile. "Rachel told us it was an open adoption?"
Quinn sat stunned for a few seconds. She didn't think Rachel knew much about the baby or the adoption. She'd never discussed it with her and it really hadn't been a glee topic of conversation. "Uh, yeah," she began slowly. "Puck and I decided to go with an open adoption. We wanted to be able to visit her," she replied with a slight nod before looking down at her cupcake again.
James just nodded his head in understanding and offered her a small smile. His eyes drifted to the book sitting atop Quinn's folder. "To Kill a Mockingbird? So they do teach you something worthwhile at that school," he said with a wink.
Quinn grinned. "I guess..." she trailed off. "If you call listening to Mrs. Gilbert talk about her vacation to Old Alabama Town with her husband, worthwhile."
James barked out a laugh in response. "Ah... Mrs. Gilbert. She tried to tell Levi and I that we needed to teach Rachel some restraint. Mentioned something about her inability to keep her hands to herself and voice at an acceptable pitch in class. Can't imagine what she was referring to," he said with another wink and a grin.
Quinn couldn't help but relax in Mr. Berry's presence and for a few seconds she wondered whether there was really anything to worry about with Rachel. But then she remembered the other Mr. Berry's face at school yesterday afternoon and the grip he had on Rachel's elbow. She decided to stick to her original plan. Looks could be deceiving.
The pair was jarred out of their thoughts when the cell phone resting by the sink began to ring and vibrate simultaneously. "Excuse me," James said as he went to answer his phone. Quinn picked at her cupcake only half-listening to the conversation as she let her eyes travel around the kitchen from her vantage point.
To be honest, Rachel's kitchen was fairly standard and ordinary. There were a set of folding doors at the back of the kitchen that opened onto a patio that led to a small backyard. Behind her to the left was a small round kitchen table with four chairs around it, placemats in place and a fruit bowl perfectly centered.
Against one wall was a hutch and buffet. A small, glass, rectangular fish tank sat in the middle of the hutch. Quinn eyed three goldfish in the tank. There was a bright sparkling gold star at the bottom of the tank and Quinn had to roll her eyes. Even the fish had a gold star? Quinn was startled out of her thoughts by James laughing loudly at whatever the person had said on the other line.
"Actually I made a batch of cupcakes this afternoon. I'll bring them into the precinct for tonight's shift," he said with a smile and a wink in Quinn's direction. "Mhm, with vanilla bean infused frosting."
Quinn tried to hide her shock at finding out that it was this Mr. Berry that was the cop. Sorry, Officer of the Law. She quickly turned away from Mr. Berry, averting her gaze to the fridge in front of her. Noticing a very detailed schedule, she decided it wouldn't hurt to take a short walk around the kitchen. She saw Mr. Berry turn away from her and stare out the window above the sink. She headed straight for the fridge door and began scanning the color-coded schedule.
Ballet, jazz, hip hop, tap, voice lessons, elliptical, cardio, yoga. The schedule was so precise with timing and locations. Quinn knew exactly what she was looking at and an uncomfortable feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. The schedule was eerily similar to one she'd had taped to the pantry door from the age of 11.
Almost every minute of every day was accounted for. MySpace video time was even scheduled in every evening. Quinn wondered when Rachel had time to herself. It looked like there were a few hours scheduled in on Sundays, but the blonde wondered how much of that time was actually for Rachel to spend doing whatever it was she liked doing.
"It's very detailed, isn't it?" James suddenly asked from over her right shoulder.
Quinn tensed up as she nodded her head slowly in agreement. She'd been so distracted by the schedule she hadn't realized his conversation had ended and he'd crept up behind her. "So, Rachel's at her..." Quinn trailed off as she checked the timetable, "Hip Hop class?" She asked with a tone of disbelief. "Rachel does Hip Hop?" There was no mistaking her tone.
James laughed softly. "For six months now. I think she only does it to please Levi, but she's not a quitter."
"Right." Quinn replied softly as she averted her gaze from the schedule. She began to make her way to the stool she'd been sitting in when loud voices from the front hallway floated into the kitchen.
" – not trying hard enough!" A frustrated masculine voice said loudly.
"I am trying! Even Meaghan can see that!" Quinn heard Rachel reply angrily.
Suddenly the front door slammed shut and there were hurried footsteps running up the stairs.
"Hurry up and shower! We're having lunch soon and we still haven't checked your MySpace comments!" Levi yelled up the stairs.
The slamming of a bedroom door was heard and Quinn ducked her head as she carefully situated herself back on the stool. Well, this wasn't awkward or anything.
"I don't know what's gotten into that girl," Levi said as he stormed into the kitchen as he slammed his keys down on the small counter space next to the fridge. He suddenly halted when he spotted Quinn at the kitchen island.
"Levi!" James exclaimed with a smile. "Quinn's here to see Rachel," he explained, a hand gesturing in her direction.
Quinn sat up straight, small smile gracing her lips, hands in her lap as she watched as Mr. Berry's eyes flicker between her and James. "Hi," she greeted softly with a slight wave.
Levi raised an eyebrow before offering a nod as greeting in her direction.
James, quick to defuse the tension in the kitchen stepped forward. "Quinn, how about you wait upstairs for Rachel? You'll be able to tell which bedroom is hers," he offered with a smile and a nod of encouragement.
Quinn eyed both of Rachel's fathers before nodding her head slightly. She was perfectly happy to wait in James' presence, but the scowl that was now adorning the shorter Mr. Berry was making her nervous. She quickly gathered her folder and book and held them to her chest. As she exited the kitchen she could hear Mr. Berry, whispering heatedly about her to James.
She quickly and quietly made her way up the stairs all the while thinking she should have just stayed in bed that morning. As she reached the top of the stairs she looked both ways down the hallway. To her left and toward the front of the house she spotted a plain white door with a gold star nameplate drilled into it. No doubt that was Rachel's room.
She made her way to the closed door and knocked softly. There was no response so she tried a second time, only slightly louder. When there was still no answer, Quinn turned the door handle and slowly opened the door, fearing what may lie within. Only Kurt, Finn and Puck had ever been inside Rachel's bedroom, and two of them had been sketchy on details and most anything Kurt said really only pertained to color swatches and patterned fabric. Quinn was mildly curious about what may lie within and so when the door opened to a small hallway with a closed door on the left hand side and an open doorway to the right, she hadn't expected such a layout.
Rachel's room was as bright as Quinn had envisaged. The walls were a pale yellow and the furniture white. Quinn had expected everything to be varying shades of pink and she was mostly correct in her assumption. Besides the wall and furniture, everything was pink – even the mirror above Rachel's vanity. Quinn took a few tentative steps into the bedroom. Rachel's room was huge, well, compared to her own at least. She perched carefully and awkwardly on the end of Rachel's bed keeping a tight grip on her things.
She allowed her gaze to travel around the room taking note of the pink electric guitar in the corner. She wondered if Rachel only had the guitar because it was pink or because she actually knew how to play. As she continued her perusal of Rachel's room she noticed the various lamps differing in size, shape and colour. Quinn wasn't sure what the fascination with the lamps was, but she figured it was to do with Rachel's need for constant perfect lighting. As Quinn turned her head over her right shoulder, she spotted Rachel's desk in the small alcove below a window. On the adjacent wall was a large poster of the Broadway production of iAnnie/i. Raising an eyebrow in interest, she couldn't help but picture a seven year old Rachel trying to convince her parents to dye her hair red and get it permed.
Quinn stumbled out of her thoughts as the click of a latch was heard and suddenly Rachel was striding into the room wrapped in a bright pink fluffy towel, steam billowing behind her.
"Eep!" Rachel squeaked as she clutched at her towel.
Quinn quickly jumped off Rachel's bed and tried to suppress the blush of embarrassment she felt creeping up her neck. Quinn opened her mouth to apologize, but before she could get a word out Rachel spun on her heel and hightailed it back to her bathroom.
Quinn stood awkwardly in the middle of Rachel's bedroom just staring at the closed and locked bathroom door.
Rachel wouldn't normally be embarrassed by being caught in a towel, she did attend gym class on a weekly basis and had four different dance classes a week. She just hadn't expected Quinn Fabray of all people to be in her room. Wait, Quinn Fabray? "Quinn?" She yelled questioningly through the closed and locked door.
Quinn raised her eyebrows in amusement at the sound of Rachel's uncertain tone. "Yes?" She replied in a sort of sing-song voice.
"What are you doing here?" Rachel asked as she leaned up against her bathroom door, head resting on the damp surface. She'd had a horrible morning at her hip hop class and the last thing she needed was to deal with Quinn Fabray.
Quinn took a few steps toward the door so she didn't have to yell. "This would be a lot easier if you weren't hiding out in your bathroom," she replied. Although this was looking more and more like one, big, terrible mistake, Rachel was present and it seemed like a 'now or never' opportunity.
There were a few seconds of silence. "I'm naked!" Rachel suddenly exclaimed as she looked down at herself. She may have been wrapped in her favorite pink towel, and normally she'd take any chance she could to show off her favorite belongings, but right at that moment, her favorite towel was all she was wearing.
Quinn rolled her eyes. "We've had the same gym period for two years. You haven't got anything I haven't already seen," Quinn replied. "Just less of it," she mumbled so Rachel couldn't hear. She couldn't believe how ridiculous Rachel was being. Besides, the girl was wrapped in an extra large towel; all the scandalous bits were covered.
"Keep your eyes to yourself, thank you!" Rachel replied offended. She did not want to think about any of her classmates watching her in the showers after PE. It wasn't that she was against lesbianism – she loved the gays! - but really, if you're going to watch a girl undress, at least do it before they're all sweat-soaked and icky.
Quinn dismissively waved her hand at the bathroom door before she walked back to Rachel's bed and dropped her folder and paperback on the mattress. She made her way over to Rachel's chest of drawers and reached for the top drawer. "Do you want some clothes or what?" She asked rudely.
Her question was met with silence and so she pulled open the first drawer to find piles and piles of gold star stickers. "What the -?" she whispered to herself as she rifled through the drawer. "You have a drawer filled with gold star stickers?" She yelled out to Rachel. Her fingers thumbed through the pile. There were tiny gold stars, small gold stars and then there were obscenely large gold stars. Quinn had no idea what Rachel would be signing if she needed a star that could be seen from the moon next to it.
Suddenly the bathroom door opened and Rachel hurried out, her left hand gripping the sides of her towel together against her chest. Her wet hair flicked drops of water on Quinn's neck and face as she pushed Quinn away and quickly slammed her drawer shut. "That's personal! I don't commit breaking and entering into your home or bedroom. I would never go through your drawers! What an invasion of privacy!" Rachel ranted as she stood guard in front of her drawers, her arms now crossed over her chest, the towel slipping just slightly causing Quinn to raise an eyebrow in amusement at Rachel's indignation. "What are you even doing here?"
Rachel couldn't believe how rude Quinn was. Scratch that, yes, she could believe it, but really, hadn't the girl learnt to respect other people's privacy after being pushed off the top of the social ladder all those months ago? Rachel had to wonder where human decency had gone.
Quinn rolled her eyes and turned away from the brunette and headed for the built-in wardrobe behind her.
"Hey!" Rachel protested loudly trying to race after Quinn, but her feet got tangled in the bottom of her towel. She abruptly stopped and yanked at the bottom of her towel, pulling it closer to her body before following after Quinn.
Quinn ignored Rachel's protests as she pulled open two of the doors. "Oh. Wow," she breathed out as her eyes scanned the interior of the wardrobe. Skirts in varying colours and argyle patterns hung on the left, color coded. It was like staring at a rainbow. To the right, all her t-shirts were sectioned together, in the same color coding system. In fact, Rachel's dresses, button down shirts and the few pairs of pants she owned were all hung just right and in perfect tonal order.
Quinn turned her head slightly to talk to Rachel, her eyes still trained on the spectacle in front of her. "I think you need to stop meeting with Miss Pillsbury."
It was Rachel's turn to roll her eyes and march over to her wardrobe, brushing past the blonde. She held her towel together with her left hand while she placed her right hand on her hip. She narrowed her eyes and watched as Quinn began to reach into the wardrobe. She quickly slapped Quinn's hand away. "If you're that intent on gaining fashion tips from my wardrobe, I'd much rather prefer it if you kept three feet away from the hangers at all times."
Quinn snorted. "No, no. No fashion tips to be had from this wardrobe," she said with a smirk, her eyes moving from the frowning, and clearly annoyed brunette, to the clothes hanging behind her.
With barely contained frustration Rachel reached inside the wardrobe and pulled out a red and yellow argyle skirt and matching t-shirt. An involuntary look of disgust washed over Quinn's face. It wasn't that the outfit was awful,exactly, it was just that Quinn felt the brunette could have chosen a more flattering colour combination.
Rachel held the clothes to her chest against the towel as she shuffled to close her wardrobe doors. She glanced over at Quinn before shuffling toward the next set of double doors. "I am entirely certain your hearing is perfectly fine, so I'll ask for a third time, what are you doing here?"
Quinn crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at Rachel's tone. "I came to talk to you about English."
Rachel looked confused as she opened up the second double doors to the next section of her wardrobe. There were drawers and shoe racks and Quinn watched as she began to collect undergarments from the left hand side before moving to the right to select appropriate footwear. "Do you need my notes because I have to be honest, I would think you of all people would be taking your education seriously." Rachel honestly couldn't understand why Quinn would need her notes from English, she'd embarrassingly missed most of the classes this week due to lack of sleep.
Quinn snorted as she continued to watch Rachel move about collecting clothes and holding them to her chest while trying to maintain a steady grip on her towel. "Actually, out of the two of us, I think I have the more comprehensive notes from English," she paused as Rachel avoided her pointed look. "Are you sure you don't need to borrow my notes?"
Rachel narrowed her eyes at Quinn. The blonde wasn't deterred by the glare burning through her. "Well?"
"While I appreciate this facade of interest regarding my GPA, my education is the least of your concern," Rachel replied in a hardened tone as she headed for the bathroom to change. "Excuse me."
Quinn sighed as she watched Rachel close and lock the door behind her. Quinn was almost tempted to just leave, but then she remembered the 'conversation' she'd heard when Mr. Berry and Rachel had returned home not fifteen minutes ago. Sighing at the compulsion she felt to stay and stick this out, she took a seat back at the end of Rachel's bed and waited impatiently.
Five minutes went by before Rachel stepped out of her bathroom fully clothed, right down to a pair of knee socks and loafers. Rachel rolled her eyes at the sight of Quinn Fabray still seated on her bed. "Still here, I see." She really didn't have time for Quinn's mind games. She was scheduled to eat lunch with her parents soon and she needed to set up her laptop and chairs for her father and her to read through the MySpace comments.
Quinn grinned, knowing how it would frustrate the short brunette. "Can't get rid of me that easily," she said crossing her legs and straightening her back.
Rachel just grumbled as she turned away from Quinn. She made her way to her vanity and began moving around perfume bottles and make-up accessories.
Quinn watched Rachel move items around only to move them back into their original place. She should have known Rachel wouldn't make this easy. "Do you want to tell me what's going on?" She suddenly asked her tone accusatory. She figured beating around the bush wasn't working, so she might as well try being direct.
Rachel faltered slightly, but quickly recovered. "Going on?" She replied, her back still facing Quinn. Her palms were slightly sweaty and her heart began to pound in her chest. She couldn't understand the reaction her body was having to Quinn's line of questioning.
Quinn stood up and folded her arms across her chest. "I realise Mrs. Gilbert might not be the most engaging or reliable source of information at the best of times, but sleeping through a week's worth of classes begs the question, what is going on?"
Rachel took a deep breath and tried to push down the anger that was beginning to simmer just beneath the surface. She spun around and narrowed her eyes at Quinn. "I don't think - " she began, "actually, I know I don't have to answer to you."
Quinn stood tall as she watched Rachel mirror her stance. "Maybe not, but do you honestly think I'm the only one that's noticed the changes in you?" Quinn asked as she leaned forward slightly.
Rachel bristled at Quinn's observation. She was bordering on furious. How dare Quinn invite herself into her room to harass her? And then just like the flip of a switch, Rachel was furious. Her face went blank and she replied in a steady, low tone. "Well how thoughtful of you to take it upon yourself to inquire about my wellbeing," she began."As it's never been of any concern to you before, you can understand my reluctance to confide in you," she paused before adding as an afterthought, "if there were anything to confide, that is." Rachel held her head high. "Excuse me, but I have things to do." She turned to her left and began to make her way over to her desk to open up her laptop all the while ignoring Quinn's intrusive presence.
Quinn watched Rachel change right in front of her eyes. Yep! Definitely a bad idea. She took a deep breath and stared at Rachel's back for a few seconds gathering her thoughts. She had two options, leave without accomplishing anything, or changing tactics once again and hoping to say something that would make the girl open her eyes to the truth that was so obvious to Quinn. She lowered her voice and softened her tone and decided to be honest instead of accusatory. "You know... our parents aren't that different," she said.
Rachel scoffed softly. She kept her back facing Quinn as she watched the screen of her laptop, waiting for the login page to appear. "My parents don't kick me out if I make a mistake." Rachel replied bitingly.
Quinn just raised an eyebrow not at all deterred by Rachel's words. "What do they do when you make a mistake?"
"They encourage me to try again," she answered instantly, her head bent down as she typed her password into the login screen. She couldn't understand why she suddenly felt like she was lying. Her fingers began to fidget and she refused to turn around and meet Quinn's gaze. It wasn't like she had lied anyway. Her parents did encourage her to try again in anything she didn't succeed at the first time.
Quinn took a step forward watching as Rachel waited for Windows to load on her laptop. She thought back to when she'd been everything her parents wanted her to be. She'd come home after Cheerios practice one afternoon to find print outs from emails between her, Santana and Brittany spread out across her bed. They'd even highlighted passages they didn't approve of."I bet they know all your passwords, but they let you log in and out just to give you a sense of privacy," she said taking a second step closer.
Rachel still refused to look at Quinn. "I don't keep any secrets from my parents," she answered, her back straight, shoulders back, proud of herself.
"As if they would even let you have any secrets," Quinn commented with a slight shake of her head.
A few seconds passed before Rachel finally turned around and met Quinn's stare head on. "I don't give my parents reason to believe I'm hiding anything from them," she waited a beat before continuing. "I'm not the one who got pregnant by my boyfriend's best friend."
A silence filled with tension permeated the room. Quinn stared at Rachel for a long, drawn out moment. Slowly Quinn began to nod her head slightly. This wasn't the first time someone had thrown her unplanned pregnancy in her face, and it was certainly not going to be the last either. She crossed her arms and rocked back and forth, her eyes trained on her toes. When she managed to push down the anger she felt at Rachel's retort, she replied. "I did get pregnant to Puck. I wore that mistake for nine months and my parents did kick me out, but it was the best thing they could have done for me." Quinn turned and walked back to the bed where she picked up her folder and book. She held them at her side and stared at Rachel who was shifting her feet slightly.
"You may refuse to see it, but our parents are the same. They can tell you they're only trying to help you be the best, to achieve your goals, but at the end of the day, whose life are you really living? Yours? Or theirs?" And just as quietly as she entered the room, she left.
Rachel stood rooted to her spot, her arms now braced against the back of her desk chair. She stared at the top of her comforter, her heart pounding loudly in her chest. Guilt washed over her, but she didn't dare chase after Quinn and apologize. She was still furious the girl had been implying anything nefarious about her parents and she still had to spend an hour going through MySpace comments with her father before lunch.
