A/N: Love, love, love to you all. I don't always manage to reply to reviews specifically (okay, I never manage that – I have some sort of brain defect that prohibits me from ever replying to any sort of correspondence), but I wanted to let you all know how much I value your feedback – especially from those of you who review, like, every chapter. I'm not even kidding when I say that sometimes I just read all twelve pages of reviews over and over and over again. Makes me all warm and fuzzy inside. So, again, thanks. Greatness personified, that's what you guys are.
I wrote the majority of this around 2 AM this morning, so please forgive any weird errors. I noticed a few in the last chapter – stuff that a spell check wouldn't catch. I should probably do the whole beta reader thing, but I'm just so impatient – I always want to post it right away! The only reason I didn't post it last night, despite staying up WAY past my bed time (I seriously went to bed at 3 – ugh. I'm feeling it today) is because my internet was out. Hah.
It was partly her fault. She can admit this to herself. She reacted poorly. Extremely poorly. It's just that she was lying there, thinking about the fact that she had just snuck out of her house to have sex in the woods with Noah Puckerman, and how it wasn't like her at all – first, her parents would probably ground her for the second time in her entire life (the first being when she was eight years old and accidentally ripped her dads' favorite Barbra Streisand autograph after taking it to show and tell without permission), and second, how unsanitary is that? Animals defecate in the woods. So on top of being pregnant, she had probably caught whatever disease you can catch from doing it near bear poop. Third, it was Puck. She had wanted her first time to be something special with someone she loved, and instead it was with him, so then she decided that her second time would definitely be with someone she loved, and then it was Puck again, and she couldn't possibly love Puck. She didn't even like Puck. He was obnoxious and lewd and so arrogant, and they had absolutely nothing in common, except for the small matter of their future offspring.
And he had been there for her from the very moment she told him about the baby and he put up with her ranting and raving and sometimes he even went along with her crazy ideas, and she knew that he liked being with her (even when he said things like "Shit, Berry, I swear I'll strangle myself with one of your knee socks if you don't stop talking."), and she kind of liked being with him, too, even when he was being a complete jerk and driving her up a wall, and…crap.
It was then that she realized that nothing in her life was happening the way she thought it would. She was having a baby fifteen years before she was ready, and she was having wilderness sex with and possibly in love with someone who drove her completely insane, and earlier that day, Mr. Schuester had given a solo to Tina instead of her, and those hormones that had made her deliriously happy just moments earlier had turned on her, and then she was crying.
She didn't really have a lot of personal experience in the area, but from her extensive knowledge of romance from books and movies and musicals and that one episode of Grey's Anatomy, she thought that crying after sex was probably not something that guys appreciated, especially not guys, like Puck, that believe themselves to be God's gift to all womankind.
Sure enough, he was soon going on and on about how if she thought she could find someone better than him, someone who would put up with her irritating personality, she was free to do so, because there were girls lining up to get with him and none of them talked as much as she did. This sent her into near hysterics, because she was trying to explain herself but it was just coming out in a blubbering mess, and he was being so mean and she didn't understand where the hostility was coming from, or why he was suddenly ranting about her dad. She couldn't even understand what was being said anymore, just that Puck was really, really angry.
He eventually guided her to the truck, because her voice was probably carrying throughout the town and people would think someone was getting murdered. Once inside, she stopped sobbing (well, stopped sobbing loudly) and he stopped talking altogether, and the ride home was worst ten minutes of her life.
By the time he was pulling onto her street, she was seething. She wasn't quite sure why, except that she was mad at him for being mad at her. It made sense at the time. When the truck came to a stop, she climbed out quickly and slammed the door, not even caring if her parents woke up, because she knew how much he hated when she slammed doors. He peeled down the street and out of sight before she reached the front porch.
It's been twenty three days. She's not really keeping track on purpose, but she's pregnant and if there's one thing about her that has changed, it's that now she she's very aware of time. She's always kept a calendar, but now she marks the days off obsessively (one day doesn't seem like much, but it only takes seven to make a week, and a week can become a month in an instant, and she's pretty sure this whole thing will be over before she knows it), and it's not hard for her to do a quick tally while she's at it.
A lot can happen in twenty three days. In the past, it wouldn't have seemed like a great deal of time, but things are different now. She's gone from three months pregnant to four months pregnant, and therefore has gone from being bullied by a two ounce fetus to being bullied by a five ounce fetus – both involve spending inordinate amounts of time in the bathroom, unfortunately, but at least she doesn't have to stick her head in the toilet anymore.
Pulling at the waistband of her skirt, which is currently digging into her skin, leaving an angry, red line across her stomach and probably squishing the baby, she ruefully notes that twenty three days is also the difference between maybe needing to buy some maternity clothes and definitely needing to buy some maternity clothes.
Aside from the craziness going on inside of her, things have changed on the outside, too. Her daddy no longer needs to be put on suicide watch, and her dad seems less angry. He was actually kind of chipper when she admitted that she might have screwed things up with Noah, which she doesn't quite understand, but she'll take it because their house almost seems normal again.
She thinks Puck's mom might have calmed down, too, because Finn told her that he's back in his own house. She would have rather heard this from Puck, of course, but he's said about ten words to her since that night, and most of them have been icy and abrupt, and none of them been uttered without prompting – she's sort of apologized a few times, in a roundabout kind of way (which is not fun, but at least she gets the satisfaction of being the bigger person), and he keeps saying that it's fine, whatever, calm down, but it's not fine, it's not whatever, and she won't calm down, because he's pouting like a little girl. That last bit came out during a one-sided argument (the only kind they have anymore) and she's pretty sure that it did more harm than good.
She's still holding out hope that he's going to actually forgive her, which is why she's saving him a seat in Glee this afternoon, like she's done every afternoon for the past three weeks. She's certain that one of these days, he'll sit next to her and start whispering bawdy jokes in her ear while Mr. Schuester is talking and things will be back to normal – whatever that is anymore.
When he enters, she pushes her jacket off the chair and offers a small smile. He ignores the gesture completely, which is unsurprising at this point, but it's still frustrating that today is apparently not the day. Her shoulders slump slightly, despite her best efforts to appear unaffected.
Much to her surprise, Kurt quickly fills the vacant chair. "Trouble in paradise?"
"What makes you think that?" She asks coolly, straightening in her seat.
"Well, you used to sit next to each other and bicker all throughout Glee and then make out once everyone else left the room."
She opens her mouth to deny this, but he keeps going. "You're not a particularly quiet person. Anyway, now you two barely look at each other – you don't even argue anymore. It's eerie."
"We're fine," she says in a clipped tone.
"You've been moping around here like someone destroyed your replica Elphaba costume and Puck has started throwing people in dumpsters again. Namely me," he says with a shudder. "So, spill."
She crosses her arms and looks to the floor, absently scuffing the heel of her shoe on the linoleum. "It's nothing. Why do you care, anyway?"
"I live for scandals, and this one just keeps getting better."
Rachel frowns. Somehow, knowing that someone else is enjoying the spectacle that her life has become doesn't make her feel any better.
"Listen, us girls are going to the mall after rehearsal. You should come. It will make you feel better, and, well…" he gives her a disdainful once-over before continuing. "…I hate to be the one to break this to you, but it's time for you to embrace elastic – that baby bump is out of control. I'll help you!"
Rachel places a self-conscious hand over her abdomen and eyes him warily. They've never been close (unless being close to scratching each other's eyes out counts for something), and she can't help but question his intentions. This could be some elaborate scheme that will humiliate her in the end.
"Why are you being nice to me? You hate me."
"Balderdash, darling. I couldn't hate you. This baby business, and more recently, this Puck business, has softened your incredibly grating exterior, so now you're just kind of pathetic, like those sad puppies on the ASPCA commercials. And even if I did hate you, I wouldn't wish your wardrobe on my worst enemy – no way would I pass on the opportunity to get you out of those sweaters."
Rachel gapes, surprised and a little stung by his honesty. In a brief moment of clarity, she wonders if this is what other people feel like when she talks to them. But then she doesn't really have time to give it more thought, because Kurt is dragging her over to the other side of the room, where Mercedes and Tina are already discussing which shops to hit first.
"Put that down."
"Kurt, it's sensible."
"It's horrible."
"You've said that about everything I've picked out!"
"Then maybe you should just stop picking out ugly things," he shrugs, before yanking the dress out of her hands and replacing it with someone he had just pulled off the rack. "Now, if you added feathers to this, it would be outstanding."
Rachel exhales sharply. "Feathers? I don't really think that's appropriate for…"
She stops short, noticing that he's looking past her, toward the food court.
"You should eat something," he says suddenly. "You have to sustain little Puck Junior in there, right?"
Though she generally makes it a point to never step foot inside a food court (and now she feels slightly nauseous at the idea of a miniature Puck growing inside of her), cheap Chinese food suddenly sounds like the best idea ever. It occurs to her, as she follows Kurt out of the store empty-handed, that the torture she's just endured was all for naught, but she thinks she can squeeze into her looser dresses until the weekend, and then she'll try shopping again – sans Kurt – and none of that even matters because she's about to eat an egg roll, and that might just be the highlight of her week.
She should have recognized the set up – it was painfully obvious, really, and now she feels like a complete fool. Of course they would just casually run into Finn and Puck, and of course those two idiots would insist that they sit at the same table, and of course they would both disappear within seconds. Classic.
Kurt makes the first move.
"Oh, look at the time!" he cries, feigning shock. "I'm going to be late for my Bikram Yoga class!"
"You know what? I think I forgot that I was supposed to do…something. With my mom," Finn says, trying to suppress a laugh. Rachel can't help but note that she's a much better actor than he is.
"Dude," Puck hisses. "I'll fucking kill you."
"Well, this is perfect! I'll take Finn home, because it's right on the way to the studio, and then Rachel can get a ride with Puck!"
Rachel's eyes widen. "Kurt, no, I…"
"Excellent! Ta ta!"
Kurt gives Finn a shove in the other direction and soon they're gone.
Surprisingly, Puck is the first to speak. "I think we've been bamboozled."
"Yes, it would appear that way," Rachel huffs. "I'll move."
Puck shrugs. "Stay if you want – I don't care."
"Fine," she replies. "I will."
They sit in silence for several minutes, until Rachel can't stand it anymore. "Why are you at the mall? You're not a mall person. I'm not a mall person either, but Kurt took me shopping for maternity clothes."
"Finn and I were looking at throwing stars. I needed a new one for my fight club."
"Aren't those illegal? Do they even sell them here?"
"If you know where to look."
Rachel doesn't allow herself to analyze that statement, because she's pretty sure her head will explode if it really sinks in. Instead, she takes advantage of the fact that Puck is eating and decides that it's time to tackle their issues head-on. He'd never abandon a slice of pizza, so she's got him for at least five minutes.
"Listen, Noah, about…"
"Seriously, Berry, I don't want to talk about it."
"Well, I do," she replies. "So you can just listen, and then when I'm done speaking, you may reply if you wish to do so, in full sentences only – those caveman grunts you love so dearly do not qualify as actual words. This is called a conversation, and it would be highly beneficial for you learn how to engage in one properly. Can I begin?"
He leans back in his chair and scowls. She takes his lack of reply as permission.
"Good," she smiles. "I would just like to say that it I realize that what happened that night must have made you feel emasculated, and I…"
Puck snorts. "You did not emasculate me."
"…realize that I've wounded your pride, and…"
"There you go, giving yourself too much credit again."
"…I know that you deal with things by not dealing with things, but…"
"So you're still studying for your Ph.D in Doctor Phil, I guess?"
"…I really feel that we should talk about this, and also…"
"You think we should talk about everything."
"…you need to acknowledge that you're at fault here, too…"
"Because nothing is ever just your fault."
"…because I was trying to tell you why I was upset, and you weren't listening…"
"I was listening – how could I not listen to you screeching like a motherfucking banshee?"
"…and it flustered me. You fluster me, Noah, all the time, and…"
"You're easily ruffled. A goddamn lightweight."
"…I've just been kind of freaking out about it, because according to the twenty year plan I created with my dads on my first day of kindergarten…"
"You are a total freak – you know that, right?"
"…I'm not supposed to fall in love for several more years – it could become a distraction, you know? So now I've deviated from the list twice, because…"
"It's not like I planned on falling in love with the craziest person I know either, and you don't see me crying about it."
"…having a baby isn't even on there, and…"
"Wait, love? Did you just say love?"
"…it's hard for me to accept that…oh, what? No. No, I did not. Did you?"
"No."
"Oh. Okay. Good, because neither did I."
It's abruptly quiet, and Rachel finds herself praying that the earth would just open up and swallow her whole. She's completely lost her appetite, but she keeps poking at her food because if she doesn't, she might look at him, and if she looks at him, she might die.
Puck finishes his pizza quickly (how he can eat at a time like this, she'll never know), and after a few seconds of hesitation, he begins to stand.
"Wait!" Rachel cries. "I lied. Just now? I was lying. I said love, and I know we're not there yet – we're miles and miles from being anywhere near there, and it's just these hormones, so we can just forget it, if that's what you were wanting to do, but I don't want to lie to you. I said love."
She pauses, waiting for some kind of response. He sits, but doesn't speak. "This is where you say that you were lying too, because I heard you, Noah," she says with an exasperated sigh.
"I was lying, too. And…I mean, we could forget it, or we could…not." The last part comes out as a nearly imperceptible murmur, but she hears it, and she's pretty sure her knees would be giving out if she weren't already sitting.
"Okay, this is what we're going to do," she says, her voice suddenly shrill. "We're going to go to our respective homes and think about this for awhile – I'll probably make a pie chart, and I'd encourage you to do the same, but a simple pro/con list will work if you don't have any poster board. Then we'll reconvene, share our presentations, and decide on the best course of action."
He moves his chair closer to hers. "Or we could skip all that and get…reacquainted. It's been awhile."
Rachel grimaces, pushing him away lightly. "I don't mean to hurt your feelings again, but I really, really need to make a pie chart first."
Puck is coming to realize that there's nothing in his life that he enjoys more than making Rachel Berry go totally fucking nuts, which is why his pro/con list consists of two sentences:
Pro: Sometimes you're quiet. Con: You're usually not.
Her nostrils flare and she's kind of shaking a little after she reads it, and it's pretty funny until she stomps on his foot, and then it's just hilarious.
"What is wrong with you? I spent hours on these graphs and you're just being a jerk," she hisses, as if that's the worst thing he's ever been called. "And don't you dare roll your eyes, you foulmouthed, surly little man-child."
Puck does roll his eyes, because honest to God, it's like she doesn't speak English sometimes. "I don't even understand the point of this," he groans. "What is the big deal?"
I'll tell you what the big deal is, he hears her say before she actually says it. That happens a lot now and it totally freaks him the fuck out.
"I'll tell you what the big deal is! We're in love with each other. How are you not freaking out? Do you not see why I'm freaking out?"
He stares at her blankly. "No." It's a lie, because he does see why she's freaking out and he's probably going to start freaking out later, in private – not that he thinks he shouldn't have said it, but he's just never said it to anyone except his mom and his sister. He's pretty sure the right thing to do in this situation is share with her his uncertainty so that they can work through it together and come to a mutual understanding about the state of their relationship (Berry's rubbing off on him), but sometimes the right thing to do isn't the easy thing to do, and for now, he just needs things to be easy.
"It's one thing for us to be dating, and another thing entirely for us to be professing our undying love for one another," she says, flailing her arms dramatically.
"God, Rachel. You're going to have a stroke – just chill out."
I will not chill out, she's going to say.
"I will not chill out! We're so young, and it's such a big thing to say, and I'm surprised that I said it, because you are just so rude sometimes, and I'm really surprised that you said it, because you're always going on about how unbearable I am, and my concern is that we're both just saying it because we feel like we should. I mean, ideally, two people about to embark on parenthood together would perhaps love each other, but, in case you haven't noticed…"
"None of this is really ideal. Yeah, I've noticed."
"So, can we just take it back? Can we just forget about it for now?"
Puck shrugs indifferently. "Do you want to?"
She looks away from him, in the direction of her pie charts, and he sees her brush a tear away from her cheek, which is just really fucking awesome – she's going to start crying now, and they're in her bedroom, so her parents are going to hear her and then they're going to come up here and kill him for making her sad, when really she just cries all the time, for no reason.
"I…I don't really want to, but…"
"Then don't," Puck sighs. "Why do you always have to make things so difficult? I love you, you love me, we're a happy family, whatever. Get used to it."
Fucking Christ, he just quoted Barney the Dinosaur. He feels the intense need to check his pants and make sure he still has balls.
Rachel raises her eyebrows and tilts her head. "Did you just…"
"I have a little sister."
"You're adorable."
"Don't go spreading it around."
A/N: I hate this ending, but it seemed like the most natural place to stop it, because if I kept going, I'd have to resolve a few more things before I could end the chapter, and then it would take me forever to get it posted, and I really want to keep updating weekly for the time being (and that was all one sentence, yes).
So anyways, listen, guys: my classes start IN LESS THAN TWO WEEKS and I've looked over the syllabus for two of the courses and shit, I might as well just give up sleep because I'm going to need those extra hours to do my homework. I honestly have no idea what this means for this story. On the upside, I have the last chapter nearly done. On the downside, I could see three or four more chapters before I'm ready for the last chapter, and I really am just at a loss as to how I'll squeeze this in between the rest of my life. I'm not giving up on it, because I really, really love writing it and I love that you guys are reading it, but I can't make any promises about the time between updates anymore. It could be awhile. I'm sad about it.
