When Quinn woke up she was aware of only a few things:
1) Her nose was cold.
2) Her arm was completely asleep.
3) Her bed was extra warm.
4) Something was touching her back.
The A/C was blaring cold air into the room through the window next to her closet making her nose cold. Somehow she'd managed to fall asleep with her arm under her pillow and above her heart, making her arm dead to the world. Those were easy to deduce.
She lifted up her comforter and felt the hot air that had been trapped inside rise out towards her face. Then whatever was touching her back shifted. Her heart began throbbing and her panic stricken body propelled her out of the bed and onto the floor. A whoosh of warm air followed her down, then became completely absorbed by the conditioned air. A combination of her nerves and the shocking cold air made Quinn shiver. Her chin was trembling as she lifted herself up and looked over the bed to see what had thrown her out.
Still asleep and hugging the edge of the bed was exactly what Quinn was hoping not to find. The long brunette hair was unmistakable and the empty bed on the other side of the room only confirmed it.
With no clue what to do, Quinn stood up and started lightly pacing the length of her bed. After about the fourth pass, she realized that her door was open and her panic multiplied. If Santana or Brittany saw this they'd never shut up about it. She took three giant, silent steps to the door, closed it, then locked it. When she was three normal steps away, she realized that a closed locked door is much more suspicious than an unlocked one.
She had to wake Rachel up.
She also needed to remember why Rachel had been sleeping in her bed with her.
After unlocking the door, she slowly walked over to the side of the bed that Rachel was clinging to. Directly under her head was a wastebasket. All of a sudden things became a little bit clearer.
Things were still a little hazy, but Quinn distinctly remembered a game of Kings that turned into a game of Never Have I Ever. It was a game that got people much drunker very quickly because there aren't very many things theater people haven't done. Quinn learned a lot about the people she'd be spending the summer with, though. They were useless things that told her nothing about how they'd be in rehearsals or meetings, but she learned a lot nonetheless. In every game of Never Have I Ever that she'd ever played, some douche bag would always say "Never have I ever slept with a dude," and some stuck up bitch would say, "Never have I ever slept with a girl."
Her most memorable game of Never Have I Ever was a mandatory Strip version that she played during her last night of pledging Alpha Psi Omega, the National Honorary Theater Society. It's a co-ed fraternity that didn't play by the same rules as regular social fraternities and sororities. They had their own much tamer and shorter pledging process. In this game, it was a gay guy that had said "Never have I ever slept with a girl," and immediately after the collective sigh, all but him, a girl from her pledge class and two alumni threw a piece of clothing into the already gigantic pile in the middle of the circle, sending at least 10 people to just their underwear... Quinn included.
Last night's game played out rather similarly, only instead of removing clothing, they were gulping down alcoholic beverages. Kurt, the gold-star gay, uttered the words and Quinn watched as everyone but Kurt, Bow Tie, Mercedes, Tina, and a guy with dreadlocks took a sip of their drinks. She almost choked when she saw that Rachel had tossed her head back and taken huge gulp.
"Hey, Rachel," Quinn moved the wastebasket back to its place centered between the beds and shook her shoulder.
"Hmm..." she hummed but didn't open her eyes or move.
"Rachel, you have to get up," Quinn shook her a little harder.
"Why-" she opened her eyes and moved her head a little, "am I in your bed?" Her eyebrows were furrowed but her eyes had concern darting out of them.
"Move into yours and I'll remind you?" Quinn bargained and didn't wait for an answer to start helping her up.
"Did we...?" Rachel bolted up, a mortified shade of red taking over her face completely.
"No!" Quinn said a little too loudly and quickly.
"Oh, phewf! Good," Rachel sighed and planted her feet on the floor.
'Good?'
Before Quinn could make a fool of herself, Rachel got up and looked at Quinn with her worried face again, "You didn't have to take care of me, did you?"
"You... fell asleep pretty fast," Quinn clarified as Rachel sat down on her own bed.
"Wow, I really don't remember anything after Never Have I Ever. Actually, I don't even think I remember the last of that," Rachel still looked embarrassed, "I should have asked what was in the moose juice..."
"Orange juice, pineapple juice, champagne, vodka, rainbow sherbet, and frozen strawberries," Quinn listed the contents that she had nearly had to beat out of Puck when they were leaving.
"Oh... that's... gross," Rachel made a face matching how she probably felt, "But it was really good."
Quinn laughed and sat down on her bed, "It must have been, you kept going back for more."
"I didn't vomit, did I?" Rachel made the embarrassed face mixed with the grossed out face.
"No, but you kept trying to sleep on your back..."
"How did I get in your bed, though?" Rachel looked suspicious, of what, Quinn didn't know.
Quinn definitely knew this answer, "You put yourself there when we got here."
"That's weird..."
"You wanted me to play Jump In The Pool, but I wouldn't because it was two AM," Quinn crossed her arms over her chest, remembering exactly how annoyed she was the night before.
Despite how annoyed she was, she kept helping Rachel. She wanted to. No matter how annoyed she was made, she was just as drawn to her. Even as a drunken mess, Rachel was cute. The word 'sexy' had even fluttered through her mind more than once. She wasn't too drunk to help Rachel, but she was drunk enough to think the unthinkable.
"Why didn't you just tell me to move to my own bed?" Rachel quirked up her eyebrow.
That had a completely justified reasoning, "Because I was also drunk and not in the mood to get you up and over five feet. And like I said, you kept trying to sleep on your back. I had to prop you up."
"Oh," Rachel put her eyebrow back down and turned her eyes to the floor, "Umm... I don't usually do that... you know, get blackout drunk... or even regular drunk. Especially, during a show. It isn't-"
"Good for your voice?" Quinn scoffed lightly, readying herself for the crazy to start poking its way into this conversation.
"I was going to say professional, but no, you're right, it isn't good for my voice," Rachel suddenly got defensive. She got up and started for the door, "I have to pee."
Quinn started to form the R, but she was out of the room before the name could come out. She actually felt bad. She'd barely said anything, but it was completely uncalled for and she really felt bad about it. Rachel was being completely normal, why was she trying to drag out something that might not actually exist?
"Hey, Q," she heard Santana's gravelly, morning voice, "Deep in thought about your snuggle sesh?"
"I hate you," Quinn muttered, then let herself fall back onto her bed.
"Untrue, besides, I'm fully aware of what really happened," Santana laughed.
"You just love to give me shit," Quinn shook her head and silently berated herself for easily taking Santana's bait.
Santana walked into the room and sat down next to Quinn. She leaned over Quinn to make eye contact, "Seriously, though...?" she let the question hang and kept her face straight as she nodded towards the bathroom.
"No," Quinn answered adamantly and sat up, "no."
Santana squinted one of her eyes slightly then curled her upper lip and dragged it between her teeth as she thought, "We'll discuss this after your lunch date."
"My what?" Quinn had no idea what Santana talking about, but her smirk made her believe she wasn't going to like it.
"With your roommate, silly," a satisfied Santana got up went to leave the room, "Oh, hey Midget."
"You're not very much taller than I am," Rachel crossed her arms over her chest.
"I only give nicknames to people I like," Santana said simply with a smile and left the room.
"It's better than Bitchface," Quinn smiled apologetically.
"Is that yours? It's good," Rachel said with blatant spite as she looked through her closet.
"I'm sorry-"
"No, you know what, it's cool," Rachel took a step back and looked right into Quinn's eyes, "You think I'm this crazy actress with absurd demands and that I don't care who I inconvenience as long as I get what I want. You think that I think that my talent is absolute gold and I should be treated as such. Well you know what, Quinn Fabray? Fuck you. Fuck you and your judgmental bull shit."
Quinn just sat on her bed staring straight ahead at Rachel like a deer in headlights. She had no idea what had just hit her. The word 'sexy' was fluttering through her brain again, though and this time she was sober.
"You think you're so much better than all of us," Rachel's rant continued, "Let me guess, you used to act. Something happened though and you settled for stage management. That way, you still get to be around actors, but you're in charge. What was it? Sick of not getting cast? Didn't get into any programs? I'm sure it was something really ridiculous that made you give up."
Now Quinn was livid. Once again Rachel was reading her far too well. To most people Quinn was like an Ayn Rand book, but for some reason Rachel easily flipped through her pages as if she were a My First Chapter Book. She was really angry because Rachel was right, but she was only partially right. Quinn was debating whether or not drop that on Rachel because it was sure to make her feel guilty, but it was still a sore subject with Quinn even after five years.
"I don't care if you like me, okay. Not anymore. I'm sure you'll be happy to know I will no longer be actively pursuing your 'good graces,'" Rachel spat and turned back to her closet with a huff.
For some reason that really struck a nerve. She'd never considered this scenario. Now that Rachel didn't want her to like her, that's all she could think about. How much she liked Rachel. She didn't even really know her. All she knew was that she proved her wrong left and right and that somehow Rachel already knew her. It made her different than anyone else she'd ever met and terrifyingly intriguing.
Quinn knew she couldn't fix things all at once, but she needed to try for multiple reasons. Her main concern was her job. Even if she wasn't really one, Rachel could still act like a diva towards her and only her. Her living situation was her second concern. She just couldn't live with someone that didn't like her at all. As much as Quinn touted about saying that she didn't care what people thought about her, she did. And then there were the pesky romantic feelings that she couldn't ignore. Those were out of the question. Those would always be out of the question. No matter how strong her feelings were for Rachel, she wouldn't act on them. Professional relationships were destroyed by romantic ones. The what-ifs were too great to risk her future. Not to mention she'd probably already completely fucked up any chances she might have had with Rachel anyways.
But still, she needed start fixing things soon...
"I get panic attacks," Quinn exhaled softly.
"What?" Rachel scoffed as she stepped back from her closet.
"When I audition. I get panic attacks," Quinn revealed as she breathed slowly, "Actually, just thinking about auditioning makes me breathe a little funny. I can sit through other people's auditions no problem, but I just... can't."
"Oh..." Quinn see guilt rising up in Rachel and even though she was the one that was attacked, Quinn felt guilty for making her feel guilty.
"You were right though; I started stage managing because of it," Quinn gulped and took another deep breath, "I really do love it. Not because I'm in charge, but because I love the whole process of a show. The stage manager is involved in nearly everything."
"I'm sorry-"
"No. I deserved that. You were absolutely right, I judged you before I really met you and I don't usually do that. I thought I knew you're type, but clearly I was wrong," Quinn stated apologetically.
"Well... sometimes I can get kind of... diva-ish..." Rachel winced and backed impossibly further into her side of the room.
There was that adorableness again. Quinn couldn't even attempt to stop the smile that spread onto her lips. "I can handle it," she kept her crooked smile in place and winked subtly.
Rachel's bottom lip briefly found its way in between her teeth, "So, still up for lunch?"
In a sigh of relief, Quinn breathed out, "Yes."
A/N: See? Back on track! Hope you liked it! Can't wait to hear from you guys!