Chapter 7
If you dare come a little closer
One minute. One more minute left.
The minute hands move slowly on the clock face. It always happens when you're waiting with all your strength the arrival of a certain time and, as much as you can force yourself and hope to have psychic powers, staring at that tic tack in slow motion certainly does not make them move faster. But then that moment comes and, like a spring, you wake up and you find yourself able to make jerks like a sprinter.
I tap my pencil on the open book, as if to mark each passing second. The shrill sound of the bell signals the end of the lessons and I hurl out of the classroom like a fury, avoiding under the wire to invest a group of freshmen. I grab the phone from my bag and I type the message while I head to the car.
Busy?
I take a deep breath before pressing "send". I start the engine and drive through the streets, cursing every red light that keeps me from getting home earlier. I park the car in the walkway and, before opening the door, I check if there are new messages. I find a notification and I quickly open Rachel's text.
I could not be busy for you : )
I let go a smile and I totally forget to jump the last step. I curse softly and I look around, hoping no one saw me almost falling on the ground. The truth is that I can no longer wait to show her the pictures I took while she was singing the night we met. I can't wait to see her reaction when she will leaf through it. I can already imagine her expressions.
I get to my room and I stop to look at the mirror. I see a girl with a radiant smile that goes from ear to ear. I remain to observe her before typing a new message.
There is a thing I promised you the night that we met. Do you remember?
Pictures of that night pass before my eyes. The vibration and the screen that lights up tear me off from those beautiful memories.
I think you will need to rub up my memory Fabray : P I'll wait for you at 4 pm, ok?
Perfect! See you later Rach : )
I throw my phone on the bed, following it soon after with a leap. I turn to look at the ceiling, sighing loudly. I glance at the clock. 3.30 pm. Still half an hour.
How can I wait for 4 pm without having a heart attack?
I squeeze the envelope with the photos in one hand while with the other hand I buzz the intercom of Rachel's house. The lights are on in the house and I perceive quick steps inside. The door bursts open making me jump and a smiling Rachel appears in front of me.
"You're in time. I'm impressed." She crosses her arms on her chest, leaning against the door jamb.
"Are you kidding me? I'm always punctual!" I answer vaguely irritated.
She bursts into laugh. I like so much her laughter. I release my pout in front of this show and I laugh with her.
"Come on, come in" she says, taking my hand. At that touch I hold my breath and hot and cold collide on my skin. She drags me up the stairs, still holding my hand and making me go into her room.
"Aren't your parents here?" I wonder glancing behind me.
"No, they're out."
"It's at least the third time I come to your house and I haven't met them yet" I say staring at her with reproach.
"I haven't met yours either" she says irritated.
"You've never come to my house, Rach!"
"You've never asked, Quinn!"
I realize only now that at every sentence we got closer and closer. I step back a little and I notice that she became aware of the gradual reduction of the distance too. I clear my throat and Rachel moves her eyes on the wall first and then on an indefinite point to her left, running a hand on her hip.
"So? Why are you here? What's in that envelope?" then she asks me pointing out the white envelope in my hand and clinging to her arms.
"Try to ask it more quietly and maybe I'll tell you."
Rachel snorts, rolling her eyes. She can be really irritating at times. But she's adorable when she curls up her lips in that offended pout.
I get lost in those thoughts and I don't realize that I'm staring at her like you stare at a polar bear cub at the zoo.
"What?" she asks, confused.
I recompose myself hastily. "Nothing." I hand her the envelope. "Look for yourself." I give an encouraging smile, even if she doesn't deserve it right now.
She grabs the envelope, she looks furtively at me and opens it.
"It's not a parcel bomb, right?" she asks, provocative.
"Cut it out and open it, Rach!" I sigh exasperated.
Her face lights up when she realizes what she is holding. She leafs through the photos slowly and looks at each one for a number of seconds. In her eyes there's surprise, then admiration, and finally what I could easily mistake for happiness. Have I caused it?
"Quinn..." she begins, but without finishing the sentence.
I stand there in front of her, with my heart bursting and the knowledge that that expression of incredulous gratitude is all for me.
"They are beautiful, Quinn."
An instinct, brief but intriguing, to say that they are not as beautiful as she is.
She carefully places the photos on the bed and throws her arms around my neck. Her scent soaks my nostrils and I inhale deeply, as to hold it as long as possible with me, unable to let it go.
"Thank you thank you thank you" she whispers in my ear.
Millions of chills run through my back at the sound barely audible of her voice, but so close, gives off right in my ear.
"I haven't finished yet" I say, untying the embrace reluctantly. I grab from my bag the photo album she gave me for Christmas and I open the first page. A close-up profile of a smiling Rachel, brightened by the snow.
"You told me to put all my most beautiful photos," I explain "I thought to start with this one."
Rachel's eyes sparkle chained to mine. She closes the album without breaking eye contact, without saying a word and she draws me back to her in a hug. I stay silent too, holding her more tightly to my chest.
I glance at the watch on my wrist. I close my eyes and breath in heavily.
I wish the hands would stop right now.
"I like this one so much!" she exclaims enthusiastically taking one of the photos in her hands and turning it to let me see. "But this one is wonderful, too!" She hands me another picture of herself with her eyes closed, her forehead slightly frowned.
I can remember the exact instant I took it. I've always wondered what she was thinking about in that moment.
"Actually, I like them all, damn it!" she finally blurts out, crossing her arms and looking angrily at the photos scattered on the floor in front of her.
I remain incredulous. "What's the problem, Rach?"
"The problem is that you're damn talented. That's the problem."
I blush slightly at the compliment. "You can keep them all, Rachel! You don't have to choose. I made duplicates just for you."
She looks at me as if I just said that she was chosen for the role of Maria in West Side Story on Broadway. "Seriously?" she asks almost screaming.
I laugh in front of her enthusiasm. "Really. They're yours."
"Thank you thank you thank you" she squeals, clapping her hands. "I can't wait to show them to my dads."
I observe with admiration the girl in front of me.
Rachel Berry is simply extraordinary. Not only she has a voice out of the ordinary and big dreams, but she is genuine and spontaneous in all the emotions she feels. She might also be irritating at times and incredibly childish, but I think I have a weakness for that side of her too. And also for the questionable sweaters with reindeers that she wears at times. Her taste in clothes in general could raise intense debates, but it's part of her. It's part of Rachel. And there's nothing more perfect.
"Are you listening, Quinn?"
I return to reality abruptly. Rachel's expression of annoyance, her arms crossed, are not good signs.
"Uh... What?" I fall from the clouds and beating on the ground hurts a lot.
"I knew you were not listening to me!" she blurts out angrily. "I should have realized it from your foolish eyes! So I deduce that it's useless to ask you what I was saying. Well, know that I'm not going to repeat it! It's enough to say that I was complimenting you, you ungrateful weasel!"
I hardly let few words of apology slip, but this annoys her even more. "Why are you so angry? I was listening to you! I got distracted for a second."
"Really? What did I say?" she asks, tilting her head and with a bit of skepticism in her voice.
"That you can't wait to make your dads see the photos."
She looks daggers at me. "That was before, Quinn. You were not listening to me."
"Well, I..." I try to begin with.
"But can I know what you where thinking about?"
Panic. I don't know what to say. I try to collect some ideas to save me at the last minute.
"Umh... I... N-n nothing" I stumble in my own words.
"You are really impossible sometimes, you know?" she growls pointing her finger at me.
I find it almost offensive that it's her who told me this, but before I can reply the phone vibrates next to my leg and catches my attention.
Maybe it's better that I've been silent, I would have probably caused World War III.
I feel slightly relieved, but the feeling doesn't last long. Finn's name appears next to an envelope very clearly on the screen. Even Rachel sees it and whispers a "go ahead" while moving her eyes to the wall to give me privacy. I open the message, feeling a bit of anxiety rise.
Hey! I'm sorry to bother you... I just wanted to tell you I'm glad I talked to you the other day in the hallway and I'm sorry I made you nervous in the end. I didn't want to poke in. It's weird and I don't hide that I still have feelings for you, but I really don't want to lose you completely. See you.
I snort loudly and I bring a hand to my head, rubbing my temple. I put the phone where it was before and I decide not to respond immediately. The idea that he hasn't turned the page doesn't make me feel comfortable. I never know what to expect and I don't want to hurt him further in the future.
"Are you okay?" Rachel breaks the silence. Her face is concerned and she has become serious. There is no trace of the previous fury. She probably forgot why she was yelling at me.
"That's okay. He just told me he is glad that he spoke to me a few days ago. I'm relieved too, even though I was annoyed with some stupid questions. A classic of Finn" I reply flat.
"What kind of questions?"
"Nothing important" I cut short. I don't want to deal with the issue and inform her about it.
Rachel mimics an "ah" with her mouth and falls silent again. I feel embarrassed and uncomfortable and I seek for a way to bring a peaceful atmosphere in this room.
"Quinn, can I ask you something?" she asks suddenly.
"Yes, of course you can" I say hesitantly.
"Were you in love with Finn?"
Among all the possible scenarios, this was no doubt the last one that I would have expected. I open my mouth without making a sound. Then, after another moment of hesitation, I finally speak.
"Yes, I was." My voice comes out soft. "I mean, I think. I think I was in the beginning, but I was no longer in love in the last few months for sure. That's why I broke up with him. You know. We talked about it that night on the bench" I say with a higher tone.
Rachel nods. She stares at her hands, her fingers tapping nervously on her thigh. I remain mesmerized for a moment and then say "Why do you ask?"
She finally meets my eyes, inexplicably confused and alarmed. "Pure curiosity." She shrugs. "Sorry, I didn't want to be intrusive. Again" she adds, bursting into a nervous laugh.
"It's okay, really." I reassure her, but I can't be loose and relaxed as I would like to seem.
I'm not sure where this conversation can get. I would like to bring the discussion on other tracks, but instead I ask her something in return.
"And you? Have you ever been in love, Rachel?"
I watch her thinking about it a second before answering.
"Only one time. Or at least I think I was. It's so easy to misunderstand your feelings sometimes. In short, it's different from when you just like a person, don't you think? It's easy to deceive yourself. Sometimes it seems intense, but in reality it's not and everything fades away at any moment."
I nod imperceptibly and wait for her to continue the discourse. I get the impression that she has not finished yet.
"It's different when you think about someone so much, when you feel your stomach upside down at the idea of seeing them, when you feel the chills every time they touch you or brush you."
I swallow hard and I feel like I'm swallowing my own heart, which is stuck halfway and goes neither up nor down.
"I'm probably a hopeless romantic and I hold onto useless stereotypes, but I always had this idea of falling in love. Get butterflies when you see this person, the anxiety when you know you are about to separate, the desire to carry on the clock to get right to the moment when you'll see each other again, the knees that tremble, smile for no apparent reason and have your head on the clouds." A smile is printed on her face. "And the fact that there is no more beautiful sound of their voice when they say your name."
I hear every word as if I was under the effect of a spell and everything she says delivers precise shots to my stomach. Rachel speaks as if she is telling a fairy tale, her eyes fixed somewhere above my head, her chocolate brown eyes, bright and big, and that smile, dreamy before, now slightly melancholy, on her face.
Suddenly she turns her attention to me. "That's how it feels like when you're in love, don't you think Quinn?"
I startle. Hear her saying out my name causes an electric shock inside of me, a shock that I have always felt, but apparently ignored and pushed into a corner of my brain without asking why. Without wondering why, refusing to discover it and recognize it, but now it's here that requires desperate attention. My mouth becomes suddenly dry.
Quinn.
Quinn.
"Yes, it is" I find the strength to say in a whisper. "It's something like that" I repeat again, more to myself than to Rachel.
She keeps looking at me, waiting for me to say more. Or at least I think she's waiting for me to say something. Her eyes move over my face looking carefully every inch of it.
I open my mouth again without giving off any sound. My brain is like a shelf full of books that has just been spilled on the floor. It's impossible to put it back in order in a little time.
Rachel speaks again. "I've never felt like this before, actually. But I'm waiting for that person. I'm sure it's out there somewhere and that is waiting for me."
It becomes increasingly difficult to sustain her eyes and I start to play nervously with the sleeve of my sweater.
"Or who knows?" she resumes suddenly after a brief pause. "Maybe we've already met and I haven't figure it out yet. Maybe we haven't found each other yet even if we are under each other's eyes."
Her gaze lingers on me, more intense than usual. I can feel it burning on my skin. I am forced to look at her at this point.
"Did you feel like that only with Finn?" she asks.
"I..." Every breath cuts my throat.
Rachel's body leans toward me, my muscles are tense and I can read the need of answers on her face.
"Quinn? Did you?"
Again that discharge.
"Yeah..." I say finally. I don't know why I said that. It was not what I wanted to say, but now I said it.
Rachel lets out a sigh returning to her previous position. A thousand emotions run through her face, but I can't catch any of them. Disappointment? Confusion? I can't say it with certainty.
I feel like suffocating. Suddenly, I just want to get out of that room.
I stand up abruptly making the girl sitting in front of me jump. "I'm sorry Rachel, I have to go."
"Why?" she asks, her voice trembling.
My hand is already on the handle. "I..." I turn to her. "I have to go. I'm sorry."
I leave the room after a moment of hesitation on the threshold.
"Quinn" I hear her calling behind me, but it's too late now. I go down the stairs and come quickly out the house.
Quinn. The most beautiful sound in the world.
I wish I could go back and tell her that I told a lie. I told a lot of lies actually, but I said the biggest lie I could ever come up with. It's true that I have felt all those things, but not for Finn.
