Still own none of Glee. None.
"Michael, stop! I need to sit down. Go dance with your girlfriend" Rachel giggled as she spun herself away from Mike and collapsed into a chair between Artie and Quinn and watched Mike grab Tina's hand and whirl her back out on the floor.
At least she was laughing and a real laugh, not that overly tight, forcing out sound from between clenched teeth noise she'd been making earlier. The boys had all banded together (at the urging of their girlfriends) to make sure that she didn't sit alone at their table looking like her puppy had died. They all took turns dancing with her; she'd even had a twirl around in Artie's lap and this was her third time out on the dance floor with Mike.
"Are you having fun?"
"Quinn, for what is quite possibly the thirtieth time this evening, yes, I am having a good time."
She might have sounded annoyed but she wasn't, not really. How could she be? Her friends had conspired to take what could have been a humiliating and wretched experience and turn it into something that she at least wouldn't look back on in horror. She knew what they were doing, it was obvious. It had been obvious from the moment he hadn't shown up.
Oh God, he hadn't shown up. She needed to stop this train of thought before she-
He hadn't shown up.
She didn't know why she was surprised, really. He'd barely said two words to her that weren't required in the last few weeks. He'd been avoiding her everywhere, even Glee. Mr. Schue seemed to be having one of his rare moments of insight since they hadn't been partnered in any songs lately, so avoiding her wasn't that difficult. Noah came into the room last and sat as far away from her as possible. He sang and danced and spoke to her when necessary but that was it.
There were no unnecessary interactions and when he hadn't returned her phone calls and texts after the first week, she'd stopped. If she'd learned anything from the tortures they'd inflicted her first two years it was how to pretend that things were fine.
She knew about the tickets Artie had bought and Quinn had given to Noah. She'd overheard Quinn and Kurt talking about it.
She'd really thought, up till the last second before they all left to come here, that he would show up. She was expecting that there would be knock on the door and to see him standing there looking uncomfortably dressed up but there all the same. It wasn't until Kurt piped up that they really needed to be leaving that she knew he wasn't coming.
That's when Operation Protect Rachel took over. Kurt didn't say one word about the tear tracks ruining his makeup job. He just kissed her cheek and stole her into the bathroom to help her fix it. She sat between Quinn and Santana in the car on the way here. Artie brought an extra corsage so she'd have one too (she'd thank Quinn but she knows that Artie is observant and thoughtful and she thinks he probably did that on his own) and they've barely left her alone the entire evening.
She saw looked over to see Santana in the doorway on her cell phone and watched as she put it back in her purse and headed her way. She flopped herself down into the chair next to Rachel and laid her head on Rachel's shoulder, "You doin' okay, B?"
That was it.
She loves them all, she really does, and her appreciation of their kindness is magnified by the knowledge that, had this been a year ago, they would have been mocking her remorselessly and tonight they've all rallied around her.
But as much as she loves them, she's tired. She's tired of pretending that she's fine in order not to ruin the night for all of them. She's tired of the looks of pity she sees out of the corners of her eyes when they think she isn't looking. She wonders briefly if the mocking might not have been easier to cope with than the pity.
She's angry too. Why would he do this? Why would he deliberately humiliate her? After she told him-Oh no, she wasn't going down that memory lane again.
She looked around at all their faces. They were having so much fun and she knew they were nowhere near ready to call it a night. The dance still had another hour left and then the after party was planned for the Chang's house, in their huge basement. She knew from prior experience that it would be wall to wall people and she just didn't feel up to it. She'd made it through the dance but that was about as much as she was willing to take on tonight.
"I'm-I'm
"That's what I thought. C'mon B, get your shit, I called you a cab", Santana grabbed her hand and started to pull her away from the table.
"Wait, you called me a"
"I called you a cab, B. I get it. We all get it. It's okay. You came tonight and that's a shitload more than damn near anyone else would've done. You smiled, you danced, you took pictures but we all get that this shit is painful and no one is gonna be mad at you for bailing. I called you a cab so you don't have to worry about going to Mike's house or sitting around waiting on us. I can cancel it if you wanna wait and we can drop you off on our way but seriously B, you look like you're at the end of your rope and I figured you'd just wanna head home."
Rachel's smile is one of the few real ones she's smiled all evening. Santana is that kind of friend. She just does whatever she thinks needs doing and talks about it later.
Again, she thinks about the difference a year can make. A year ago, the words Santana and friend would never have been uttered by her in the same sentence but now, here she is doing for Rachel exactly what she needs.
"I have to make my goodbyes. I have to tell-"
"I'll tell them. They'll all understand. C'mon, I'll wait with you. The cab oughta be here in a few."
The two girls wandered out of the dance into the hall leading to the front doors. There were people milling around, some couples using the almost-deserted halls as a place to make out, others in various stages of getting ready to leave. No one paid them much attention as they sat on the bench looking towards the door, their arms linked together.
"I didn't say anything earlier because I didn't want to make the situation worse but he's a douche for pulling this, B. He's my boy but this shit is fucked up. Seriously fucked up and I'm sorry."
No wonder she and Noah are friends. They think exactly alike and express themselves identically.
"It's okay, San, it's-"
"Fuck that B! It isn't okay. Don't say it's okay. None of this has been okay. So you love him and he's scared. Okay fine. He's allowed to feel how he feels. This shit though? No, not fine. Avoiding you, not answering calls, not showing up tonight? NOT okay."
"He, he, h-he told you? What I said? " her voice quavered. She hadn't discussed with any of them what had transpired between her and Noah. She should have known that he would have told Santana though.
"He's scared? Noah?"
"Shit B, of course he's scared. He's Puck. Love? Feelings? Please. Sex he can handle. Feelings? Shit, B. Really? This is news to you?"
"Noah and I are not having sex!" Rachel's voice went up an entire octave. "We have never had sex, I haven't had sex with anyone, you know that! Do people think that he and I- "
"Calm down B. I know that, I didn't mean that you were and no, none of us think you are. What the rest of the douchetards in school think, who knows? I just meant that Puck doesn't do feelings. Not well, anyway. He's never had to before, if you think about it. People didn't want him for his feelings. They wanted to be near him because he's a badass and he's popular and he's good with his tongue and his hands and his-"
Catching the look Rachel was giving her, Santana thought that maybe discussing sex with Puck with Rachel was not the best way to handle this conversation but shit, in for a dime and all that.
"Anyway. He's Puck. The last time he did feelings, he ended up losing his best friend and giving away his daughter. So you know, I was willing to cut him some slack on the whole jerking you around thing. 'Cause you B, you're a feelings girl. You're not a quick fuck or one of his cougars. He cares B, he really does. He's just fucked in his head. But still, not cool the way he's handled this. Or not handled it."
She just sat there staring. He cares. He cares about her.
They saw the Yellow Cab pull up out front and got up off the bench.
"I love you San" as she hugged the other girl tightly.
"Love you too, B. Try and relax. I'll call you in the A.M."
Santana watched as the cab pulled away and when it rounded the corner, she pulled out her cell phone and dialed and started talking as soon as the phone was picked up on the other end.
"She's on her way home. I did as much damage control as I could; the rest is up to you. Hopefully, she won't toss your sorry ass out on the street, much as you deserve it. Fuck up like this again or make me regret sending her home to you and I will end you, Puckerman."
She didn't wait for a response but hung up and walked back inside, hoping she'd done the right thing for both her friends.
