"Mercedes, I don't know what to do."
"Well, how am I supposed to know?"
A few days had gone by, and before they knew it, Friday had approached. It meant that her and Quinn had been together for a week now - absolutely no presents though, as much as Rachel wanted to give them - and she had made no progress in telling her parents. She'd gone into this knowing there would be bumps, but it seemed like with every day that went by, her fathers drifted away from her more and more.
And this was only after one week.
"I just need to do something," she said, her words heavy with desperation. "Anything."
Mercedes sighed, slightly regretting her choice to sit next to Rachel in the choir room. She wasn't up to listen to the drama queen's shit today. "Why don't you start by bringing Quinn over your house? That way when you do tell your dads, it won't just be some mystery girl. They'll know who Quinn is and already have seen how awesome she is," Mercedes said, closing the conversation and turning away.
Rachel nodded - it was decent advice.
As if on cue, Quinn walked into the room, her Cheerio entourage following closely behind. She took a seat right behind Rachel, Santana and Brittany on either side.
They ignored each other, both carrying on pointless banter with their friends. Rachel discussed what she'd be singing today (a heartfelt, true-to-the-song rendition of Lightweight by Demi Lovato). Quinn bragged about the two pounds she lost, and how that's going to put her back on the top of the pyramid, booting Brittany back to the bottom.
The class chatted idly, until Mr. Schuester walked in a good five minutes late, sending Rachel on a hushed rant to Mercedes about professionalism and punctuality. ("How can expect to gain our respect if he's just going to stroll in whenever he wants to?") She was silenced as soon as Mr. Schue uncapped his whiteboard marker and began today's lesson.
"Can anybody tell me what separated the 80s from any other decade?" he asked the class, not quite expecting any quality answers.
A few people tilted their heads, others rolled their eyes. They all hated his lessons about older music, they were boring and repetitive.
"Michael Jackson," Finn offered honestly, followed shortly by Puck's sarcastic theory, "Mullets."
"The birth of Miss Christina Aguilera," Kurt said adamantly, bumping fists with Mercedes.
"My grandma's short-lived heroin addiction," Brittany spewed. Santana pulled her in for a comforting side-hug.
Will turned his back, giving up on the kids, and wrote two words on the board. Power ballads. "Now, as you all know, last week I asked you all to find a ballad that showcased your best talents. Just to see, how many of you chose a song released in the 80s?"
About half the group's hands raised, including Quinn's.
"Interesting," Mr. Schuester observed, satisfied with the results. "The 80s pretty much birthed the popularity of ballads. The idea that so much emotion can be jam-packed into a few minutes of melody. It became less about the catchiness, and more about the ability to relate to the situations. Thus began the era of Whitney, Madonna, even Aerosmith put out a few ballads."
Everyone nodded, rather bemused. They were sick of Mr. Schue's glorified view of older times. Rachel's hand shot up. Will pointed to her, knowing exactly what she was about to ask.
"May I sing first?" she asked, knowing full well that she'd be the first to sing no matter what.
To everyone's surprise, Quinn interjected before Rachel got an answer. "Actually, Schue, I'd really like to sing first if that's okay with you."
Rachel's eyes widened and she lowered back into her seat, her cheeks burning red with embarrassment and curiosity. No one had ever offered to go before her.
"Sure, Quinn. What've you got for us?"
Quinn got up, smoothing her Cheerios uniform and making her way to the front of the room. She seemed so comfortable when everyone's attention was on her. Being the center of attention was her nirvana.
With her voice dripping in cockiness and sensuality all at the same time, she told the group her ballad choice.
"Secret Lovers by Atlantic Starr."
Mercedes snorted at the choice. She always inwardly thought that any R&B songs could only go to her.
Quinn began immediately, her silky voice capturing the sensuality of the song flawlessly. Rachel's jaw dropped.
Here we are, the two of us together
Taking this crazy chance to be all alone
We both know that we should not be together
She couldn't take her eyes off Quinn. She watched her prance around the room, her sexuality leaving every boy in the room smitten, and every girl overwhelmed with jealousy. She moved her hips to the beat, swinging them back and forth with grace. Rachel practically fainted watching the girl slide down to her knees with her back against the whiteboard. Quinn belted the final notes, adjusting the original composition to suit her vocals better.
The room burst into applause, earning her a standing ovation. Puck and Finn looked like they could cry, and Tina rolled her eyes at how astonished everyone was. Quinn Fabray really knew how to captivate an audience.
After the applause ended, Rachel felt the meaning of the song sink in, hitting her hard.
Quinn was telling her that their relationship wasn't meant to be.
Before she could rationalize her thoughts, Rachel ran out of the room, tears welling up in her eyes. Deep down she knew the song was in good intention, but it humiliated her. Out of all the songs Quinn could've went with, she chose a song saying that they shouldn't be together - that it's wrong.
Rachel thought they were so right.
Before she could get too caught up in her frantic thoughts, Quinn was chasing down the hall after her.
"Rachel, wait up!" she yelled, desperate.
She stopped and turned to face her. "What was that, Quinn?" Rachel yelled, the tears beginning to fall down her cheeks, cutting lines in her makeup. "You embarrassed me."
Quinn's eyes widened, regret pouring into them. She clearly hadn't realized her mistake. "I - I was just trying to make it easier." The girl who had just stolen everyone's heart minutes earlier was standing before Rachel, looking like a beaten down puppy.
"That song." Rachel paused and swallowed the enormous lump in her throat, ignoring Quinn's comment. "Is that how you really feel about us?"
Quinn looked around, searching for words. "Well, yeah. I think we belong together," she said sincerely. "Against the odds."
Rachel stayed silent, her arms crossed. She didn't understand.
"Listen, Rach. I was really just trying to make things easier for you, and us."
"Make what easier?" Rachel pleaded, dying for answers.
Quinn took Rachel's hand and started walking back to the choir room. "I want the class to know about us. If anyone deserves to know, it should be them. They wouldn't judge us."
Rachel knew that wasn't true at all, actually. The class had made it pretty obvious that they did not like her. "Quinn, you can't just make that decision without asking me first," Rachel stated, trying not to sound as furious as she felt. She didn't want to be mad at her, but these feelings had been building up and Rachel was never very good and containing herself.
"What do you mean?" Quinn asked, her anger clearly growing as well. Nobody stood up to Quinn Fabray.
Rachel straightened her posture and stopped them as they neared the choir room, making sure they were just out of sight. "You can't just decide that we're coming out. The only people in that room that know about me are Kurt and Mercedes. And I think Santana might have suspicions, but whatever," Rachel said, outraged. She could barely even come out to her two best friends, yet alone a whole room of people that already had enough reasons to hate her (because she was talented, obviously).
"I'm sorry. I - I guess I didn't think about that. I'm not very good at this whole relationship thing yet," Quinn said. Rachel could've sworn she saw a tear in her eye. It was sorry sight - Quinn Fabray, the head cheerleader and Queen Bee, was breaking down before her eyes. Rachel felt a wave of guilt wash over her.
"I think you're great, Q," Rachel assured her, hoping Quinn wouldn't start to cry. She wouldn't be able to bear the sight. "And I think we should go tell them. You're absolutely right. They deserve to know."
Quinn smiled and kissed Rachel on the cheek. "Let's do this."
Together they walked into the choir room, everyone still shocked from their little scene.
"Rachel, Quinn, are you alright?" Mr. Schuester asked with concern, running over. Rachel felt a shiver run through her spine at the sound of her name with Quinn's.
Quinn shrugged him off, walking to the center of the room with just as much confidence as usual. "Rachel and I have something to say." Rachel kept her eyes on the floor, pretending she was anywhere but here, doing anything but this. Her confidence wasn't as prevalent as Quinn's.
"There's been some rumors floating around here," she started, bossy and HBIC-ish as ever, her eyes falling on skeptical Santana. "Rest assured, I am not in love with Santana, nor am I going to get back together with Finn." The words seemed to slap Finn across the face, leaving him looking devastated. "Er, sorry Finn. Didn't mean to be so blunt."
Rachel looked up and chimed in, not wanting to leave Quinn with everything to say. "You guys, I'm sorry I've been acting weird lately. I know you've all missed my spunk and star quality, but I just haven't been up to it while I'm keeping this secret with Quinn," she said, her pompous statement earning a few scoffs.
"What are you two getting at?" Santana pitched in, rolling her eyes.
"Are you pregnant?" Puck asked, then exchanged a high five with Santana.
Quinn took a deep breath, realizing how much of a production they were making. She wanted it over with, before the jokes got really hurtful. "Rachel and I, well, we're, um…together."
Everyone's eyes widened, including Mr. Schuester's. Brittany screamed. Puck started clapping, satisfied. Him and Finn exchanged a devious look.
"What do you mean?" Santana asked, testy.
Quinn looked at her, silently cursing her for interrogating them like this. Why couldn't she just figure it out?
"She means we're dating. Got it?" Rachel answered snippily.
Santana laughed sarcastically. "Damn, Berry. How'd you land Q? I mean, I didn't even know you were a dyke to begin with."
"That's enough, girls," Mr. Schue interjected, searing with anger after Santana's ignorant comment.
She backed down after that. "Damn, everyone's got an attitude these days," she whispered to Brittany, who just gave her a puzzled look.
Mr. Schuester stepped in to fill the awkward silence looming in the room after their big relevation. "Well, girls, I'm very proud of you two for standing up like that, and I wish both of you well. Unfortunately, we can't dwell on your personal lives for too long today; Principal Figgins has asked us to perform at the pep rally next week. We've got to put together a three-song setlist by the end of class."
Rachel sat back down, this time Quinn accompanied her. Although it didn't go so well, somehow she felt liberated. She could, somewhat comfortably, sit next to her girlfriend now, maybe even hold her hand. That was much more than she expected going into the day. It was progress.
That progress was enough to keep her going.
