Author's Note: I can't even begin to apologize for how late this update it. It's been what? Eleven months now? I am sincerely sorry and I'm not going to blame it on anything other than me just being lazy. To be quite honest, I had very little motivation to finish this chapter. But it's done.
I thank all of you from the bottom of my heart if you continued to stick with this story, especially those of you who left those kind reviews the last couple of months. Those were a nice reminder to get my ass in gear.
I know it won't be able to make up for my absent time, but this is a very long chapter. It's over ten thousand words without the author note I'm adding here. Although, just as a warning, even though this is a long chapter I must warn you ahead of time that Jesse is practically nonexistent in this chapter.
The good news? "Funk" is next, and I've just barely started it. But that's where everything starts to get dramatic.
Again, I'm sorry for how late this is but I do hope that some of you choose to continue reading. For those of you that do: please don't forget to leave a review! They sincerely do make my day and I'll do my best to send you a reply. Your feedback is very much appreciated!
Quinn was early to glee club. It was a strange occurrence. Usually she was just one of the stragglers. She was one of the few who decided that getting there later was better than being early. Which was strange because Quinn was almost always early to every function. Today she just did not feel like hurrying, but she did. It was just glee club. It wasn't like she had some major test or anything in that class. Besides, she was not particularly in the best of moods. For once, she was not blaming that on her hormones. She knew exactly what was wrong and she felt no need to deny it. Well, maybe she would out loud and in her head? She knew.
Jesse had not been at school that day.
She felt kind of lame when she realized that she had only noticed because she had been looking for him. Quinn did not usually look for people at school. They always just sort of passed by and she would realize they were there. That had not been the case. She caught a ride with Puck in the morning, like she usually did. She had automatically looked for the parking space Jesse usually chose. It had been empty. Perhaps that should not have been quite so troubling but it was. She automatically thought that something might be wrong. Then she had to correct herself because she was just being paranoid. It was completely possible that he was just running late. Or that's what the logical bit of her mind told her. There was only one problem with that assumption.
Jesse St. James was never late. He was never late to anything. He had told her that himself. He was early to everything.
So maybe she did have reason to worry. Maybe she was actually just overreacting. She didn't know. She wasn't sure. All she knew was that Jesse was not in class and, actually, she had no idea where he would be. If he was sick he probably would have made a big deal out of it. It just seemed like a Jesse thing to do. As a performer being sick was not something you wanted. It wasn't something most people wanted in general, but it was something to get especially worked up over as a performer.
Quinn had no choice but to focus on something other than her own thoughts when Tina walked in. A hush had fallen over the room when she wasn't paying close attention. She wondered if Tina might have felt awkward with all the eyes directed toward her. Quinn still felt that way when the situation was reversed. They way she hunched over and lowered her head Quinn suspected that she might be right. But she had quickly walked toward her seat and sat down, her limbs were tucked toward her body. It looked almost like her body was caved in on itself. There was a full beat of silence before the whole room erupted into a sort of chaos. There was a frenzy of voices all at once until Mr. Schuester walked into the room and got a good look at her.
There was something said about her changing her look, because she obviously had. Her trademark dark clothes and makeup had vanished, replaced with a simple hoodie and sloppy pony tail. Now that was something she could try to focus on. She gave her suggestions to at least try to fix whatever problem that Tina had. It wasn't her fault that her idea what shot down. She thought it was better than Puck's perverted idea (which she rolled her eyes at) and Brittany's ramblings. Perhaps the problem and its possible solution were just of no consequence to her. Quinn turned her attention back to the front of the room just as Rachel Berry stormed in, her arms moving wildly and her hurried voice speaking of Vocal Adrenaline and their obvious intentions to sing Gaga.
Of course Mr. Schuester would be likely to follow their example. He was frightened by the idea of it. He covered it well enough with his confidence and ease. His weekly lessons were rather tedious but for whatever reason the assignment of singing Gaga seemed highly plausible. Kurt, oh the poor boy, looked like he was about to have a heart attack with the assignment. Quinn was excited herself but she had settled for a slack jaw and arched eyebrows when the assignment was announced. She smiled and nodded and glanced around at everyone else who seemed equally thrilled, except for the rest of the boys. Rachel was beside herself with her flailing arms and snapping fingers as she demanded for a pen.
While the idea of performing Lady Gaga was an exciting and influential idea she had her doubts. Was it even possible for New Directions to perform something any better than whatever Vocal Adrenaline was planning? Quinn often doubted their glee club even when she never admitted it out loud. She was certain she wasn't the only one, though the other members often looked over the previous winners because they lacked something New Directions now had. Jesse St. James and his transfer had proved to be an asset though the others often forgot what he could bring to the table. She suspected that even without their star that Vocal Adrenaline was well off. Everything fell back to her paranoia at not placing at Regionals and from there the worrying about Jesse easily stemmed from the idea.
She wasn't trying to think about him, honestly. It just sort of happened, even when she least expected it to. Lucky for her – or maybe not so lucky – he was still nestled there even at the end of the day. After glee rehearsal was finished, on the car ride home, up the journey to her room, when she tried to accomplish even some part of her homework, even when she tried listening to music.
There was something about Jesse that kept her second guessing herself. It was one of the major things she had been pondering all day. She had settled on biting at her finger nails and tugging at her split ends to avoid completely focusing on the issue. She was certain of one thing and that was Jesse's obvious choice to ignore her. She wondered if he was doing the same to Rachel. She wondered if Rachel was just completely oblivious to the idea and basking in Finn's affection. Although, the second thought was probably disputable. Rachel, if anything, appeared completely faithful to Jesse, despite Finn's obvious advances. Quinn wondered how Rachel handled that. She had wanted Finn for so long and he finally returned her interest when she was dating Jesse, go figure. That seemed very typical of Finn; it seemed very typical of men in general.
Of course a knock at her door happened to occur then and she hated herself for feeling even the smallest ounce of hope that maybe, just maybe, Jesse could be the one at her door. The idea was highly unlikely but she couldn't help herself.
"Hello?" she asked with a voice that only trembled at the beginning of the word.
"Can I come in?"
"Yes, of course," she replied and tried to keep the displeasure out of her tone. It wasn't that she wasn't pleased to see Puck (which seemed surprising in itself), she had just hoped that Jesse had been in his place. That seemed silly to her. Puck's voice hadn't even sounded remotely like Jesse's but she had still found a shred of her hoping that it had still been him.
She had to erase any troubles marring her features when the door clicked, alerting her that the knob was being turned. She moved to meet him at the door, and when the wood was no longer separating the two, she felt a smile spread across her face slowly. Puck was juggling two plates, one grasped in his hand and one was nestled in the crook between his arm. She watched him with amusement as he carefully grabbed one plate so that he was holding both. He held one out, offering it to her. When she looked down it was then that she noticed the piece of pizza he was offering had bits of bacon scattered on top of it. She opened her mouth to speak, her tongue brushing against the front of her teeth once or twice before she gave up and looked up at him with a grin.
"I had to sneak it; you know how my mom is. Half of this pizza is bacon so you're going to have to eat the whole thing before she gets home or something," Puck said while looking down at his offered hand. Quinn was still grinning but found herself nodding.
"I - thank you," she replied and took the plate before giving his arm a small squeeze. It was then that his eyes shifted up to meet hers and she was rewarded with a smile from him. It was a rare sight, normally she saw him in distress over a video game or too concerned with being bad ass to slip a smile.
He didn't say a thing. He paused before opening and closing his mouth just as she had moments before. Silence apparently seemed more fitting and he chose to just incline his head to the right and Quinn knew what he meant. She nodded and followed him out the door toward the couch.
Puck's gesture was certainly thoughtful. It was much more than she ever expected to see from him. Most days since their, well, fight he was always in front of a TV killing imaginary characters. Other times he was leaving the house claiming to be hangout out with Finn which Quinn knew wasn't true because neither one of them was currently speaking to the other. Not that she blamed Finn in the slightest about that.
But what Puck was really doing was going over to Santana's house to do exactly what Quinn refused to do anymore. It stung, a sort of move like that, pouring salt into an open wound and what not. It certainly didn't help that she had to hear Santana bragging about it the next day when she got to school. Quinn was sure pretty little Natalie wasn't fond of the bragging either.
Maybe that was what made this so worthy of surprise and so worthy of her smiles. She was lonely whether she liked to admit it or not. With Jesse gone there actually were not many other people to socialize with.
That's what brought Quinn to the couch as she watched Puck kill his - what was it now? Zombies? He was grinning like a two year old, his plate forgotten next to him. Not like it really mattered because there were only crumbs to accompany the plastic. Her own plate still held a whole piece that she was currently plucking bits of bacon off of. She almost didn't want to eat them. Partly because Puck was demolishing the zombies and the game was incredibly graphic, but also because bacon made her think of Jesse.
And that was just sad. It was a stupid reason not to eat it. But that was why the bacon bits were left on the plate.
It wasn't as if she could help it. If it was at all possible she would have shut her brain off a long time ago. It wasn't like she constantly wanted to be thinking about Jesse. Quite the opposite, actually. She would love to be able to just push everything aside and focus on whatever zombie game Puck was playing. He seemed so excited over it. If she could shut her brain off she would probably even ask for him to teach her how to play.
She didn't want this to take control of her life. She already had other things to focus on. So she tucked her hair behind her ear, leaned forward and tapped Puck on the shoulder. He paused the game to turn around to look at her, that grin still present on his face. His eyes sort of softened when he looked at her in a way that made her smile a sad sort of smile (it seemed all of her smiles lately were sad).
"Teach me how to play?" she asked while moving to pull her hand away. He caught it and gave it a small squeeze, still grinning.
"Yeah! Baby mama, you're gonna love this game!" And he turned to find her another controller and it was sweet if she ignored the nickname.
The pizza was left forgotten for half an hour, the bacon bits surrounding the piece, uneaten.
She had finally been getting the hang of the game. It was actually very simplistic. Kill any and all zombies while trying to find a safe house. It was actually sort of therapeutic, more so than some of the other games she had played. She could understand why Puck seemed to be playing this game more than usual. It was an excellent way to channel rage.
It wasn't until her phone beeped twice that she hit pause. Puck's agitation was obvious, his lip almost curled up into a snarl and his brow was knitted together. He turned to look at her and rolled his eyes in exasperation to see Quinn reach for her phone. Quinn, however, was practically twitching with the possibilities racing through her head. Her eyes lit up and she moved as quickly as possible to snatch her phone from the couch cushion.
It was mildly (actually incredibly) pathetic just how much she wanted the text message to be from Jesse. There was no reason for him to be consuming her life; surely she was better than that. Yet, slowly he seemed to be doing just that. Her fingers fell across the keys in a clumsy, hurried motion as she tried to open the text. She knew her face fell when she saw who it was from. Certainly not from Jesse.
"Who interrupted the game?" Puck nearly hissed while leaning forward eagerly to try and read the message.
Tomorrow after school I will be paying Carmel High a visit. Care to join?
Quinn blinked. It was a strange sight to see a text message from Rachel Berry glaring at her. Especially since she hardly ever spoke to Rachel, even more so because for a while she feared a notorious diva fit because she was talking to the drama queen's boyfriend. If anyone had told her a year ago that she would be texting Rachel Berry (or even mildly be crushing on Rachel's boyfriend) she would have called them insane before making their life a living hell.
You want me to help you spy on Vocal Adrenaline? Doesn't that go against your moral show choir code or something?
She put her phone down without waiting for a reply. When she turned to face Puck he was still staring at the phone. He was wearing an annoyed sort of expression. It was a face she was used to seeing and she was positive her own features mirrored his. He rolled his eyes and turned so that he was facing the TV again. He did not repeat his question and Quinn guessed that it was because he had managed to catch a glimpse of the screen. He already knew who interrupted the game.
"Rachel wants to spy on Vocal Adrenaline," she said softly without looking up from her hands.
"I think it's a good idea," he replied so quickly that Quinn didn't expect it.
"You do?" she asked even though she knew she shouldn't be surprised.
"Well, yeah. It could help us when we murder them at Regionals," he replied in a self-assured manner. Normally Quinn would have found his cockiness irritating but now it almost seemed endearing.
"How can you be so sure that we'll win? I mean, they are Vocal Adrenaline after all," she wrung her hands nervously. To her, the idea of winning seemed like such an unachievable goal.
"Because we're awesome," he retorted with a confidence that only faltered near the end. The slight change in tone could barely be detected. "I mean, we have to win. We don't really have a choice."
"So no pressure or anything," she finished with a wrinkled nose. It wasn't like she had never thought about it herself, of course she had. It was still just a certain level of pressure and stress that she didn't want to think about.
"Don't worry, we're going to kick their ass," he grinned before turning back to his game. It was an effective way to end a conversation but Quinn missed the company.
She really didn't want to go back to being that teenager that always complained about everything. Then again, she felt like she just might have a lot to complain about. There was also that voice arguing that she deserved whatever misery and frustration she thought she was experiencing. She had brought it on herself after all. Hadn't she? Only an idiot has sex without protection. She hadn't trusted her instincts. No matter how foggy her brain had been from the wine coolers, her natural gut feeling had told her to stop Puck. Everything in her had argued that she shouldn't be listening to whatever nonsense Puck had been spouting.
But then there was that part of her, the obviously more dominant and non-sensible part of her, that was immensely curious. That was normal wasn't it? To wonder about sex when she had no idea what it would be like? It made perfect sense in her head. It wasn't the type of sense her parents would ever listen to, but it was a feeling. She had not denied her curiosity and that had been her downfall.
She could blame Puck all she wanted but at the end of the day it was on her. It would always be on her.
"Quinn?"
"Yeah?" she replied quickly, glancing up from her hands to see Puck waving his controller in the air. It took her a moment to realize that he was gesturing to the forgotten controller on the arm rest.
"Are we going to finish this level or not?"
"Sure. We can finish this one but then I think I'm going to get some sleep." She bit her lip and scooped up the controller. She fumbled to unpause the game. Puck looked a little put off by her reply but it was not an irritation that he made vocal.
That was just the way she preferred it to be. The less arguments the better.
It wasn't until the next day that it even appeared to be an issue. Puck was standing at his locker, shamelessly flirting with Santana. Quinn had assumed (and perhaps it was her fault for doing so) that maybe, just maybe, a fraction of their relationship had been restored. Though it was obvious that it was merely wishful thinking. Puck was always only concerned with himself and the steps needed to insure his own personal happiness. There was also that little bit of tactful self-assurance that kept said happiness intact. A cocky attitude and boastful reputation got him into Santana's pants often enough. Actually it was something like three times a week.
She swore to herself a little too loud. That in itself was strange. She never swore. The snarled profanity caused a passing freshman to turn and look her way with a confused expression. Not that it was of much importance. The girl in question sneered and walked off quickly. Her judgment was painfully obvious in her eyes. That was a common occurrence lately.
Quinn could only roll her eyes and brush off the sneer. When she turned around again, Mercedes had made her way down the hall by her locker. Quinn smiled with tight lips and closed the locker. The pair had never been close but they weren't entirely strangers. The only moment of relative familiarity was when Mercedes had passed out and Quinn took her to the nurse. Their little talk was obviously a big milestone but since then they hardly spoke. Although, she was talented and Quinn did admire that.
"Please tell me you're going to Carmel with Rachel," Mercedes said while moving to lean against the lockers.
"I was planning on it," she began before adjusting the strap of her bag. "Why?"
"Because I got roped into it and I don't think I can handle being alone with Rachel for that long," she huffed and pulled at the sleeve of her jacket. "Girl can squawk."
"I see your point," Quinn replied and bit her lip to stifle her giggle. "Are you on your way to meet up with her?"
Mercedes nodded and Quinn volunteered to walk with her. Every step pushed a bit of distance between her and Puck. If that was the positive bit the negative was definitely that she was being pushed closer to Rachel. How long would they have to spy on Vocal Adrenaline? She didn't know if she could take more than an hour. Two hours tops. She could only hope that the girl would keep quiet. They were supposed to be spying after all. One could only be sneaky if they kept silent like a good little spy. If Rachel was as intelligent as she claimed to be then she should be able to realize that.
It wasn't until she spotted Rachel standing by the front doors of the school that she realized she hadn't said a word to Mercedes while they were walking. If she was entirely focused she would have apologized because that actually was rude of her. Then she wondered if Mercedes had expected such. Quinn had hardly been a saint to her before glee, or even now that they were together in glee. Then she noticed that Rachel was tapping her foot with obvious impatience and Quinn wanted to turn and refuse to help spy and leave. But she actually was extremely curious to see just what Vocal Adrenaline was working on. If they were doing Gaga, then it was perfectly understandable that they should spy. That didn't make it right but it almost, almost, justified it in her head.
She even managed to tune Rachel out the entire way there. Which was probably a necessity to keep her sanity intact. Rachel talked more than she cared to listen and then there was her car mix. Quinn enjoyed show tunes, she honestly did, but she could not take an entire car mix dedicated to it. Especially when the car mix was about four discs long. She could only handle so much. Quinn knew the ride was a little lengthy but the combination of glee ramblings and crooning show tunes had made it seem especially long.
When she finally saw the glaring auditorium and the statue of the shark eating a baby seal she wanted to scream with joy or giggle into her hands madly. Something along those lines, something that seemed incredibly insane. She would probably bend down to kiss the pavement if it was at all possible. But her growing stomach would have prevented her from doing anything of the sort. So instead she got out of the car calmly and just stared. It was a little nerve racking to see every single black car in the parking lot. It was like staring into a mirror. They were all exactly the same except for a change in a couple of license plates. For a moment she wondered if Jesse had a copy of one of the cars. He had been in Vocal Adrenaline; it wasn't hard to connect the dots. The cars were for every single member. Did he have one? She tried to picture the car at the McKinley parking lot and instead almost made herself sick. There was a stirring in her belly that was in no way related to the baby. It was nerves. The fluttering sensation was not something to be ignored. She felt as if she was about to throw up her lunch and she placed a hand against the car to calm herself down.
When Mercedes finally saw her that way she rolled her eyes in what Quinn assumed was Rachel's general direction. Of course it would be fair to assume that the reason for what Quinn figured was somewhat close to horror on her face would be because of Rachel. Who was she to deny Mercedes her original thought? It could play out perfectly that way. Mostly because she didn't want to have to explain that it was all because of Rachel's boyfriend.
That word really did need to be emphasized in her head because she knew how illogical she was being by being so concerned about his sudden disappearance. She felt like it was Rachel's job to act like a clingy girlfriend. The small brunette was perfectly capable of doing so. She was certain of it. Instead, Quinn Fabray, who once had the student population bowing at her feet, was dealing with whatever clingy tendencies had risen. She hated it. She hated it so much.
"Can we just get this over with?" Quinn said suddenly, startling Rachel who had been flipping through her bag trying to figure out if she should bring a notebook. "I have history homework."
"Well if you were prepared and didn't slack off with your studies then maybe you would not have such an inconvenient problem. I, for example, used my free period, which I usually devote to practicing songs to demonstrate my impeccable talent and-"
"Nobody cares," Quinn quickly fired back. "Berry, you talk far more than you should."
Rachel's jaw dropped in a show of obvious disbelief and her fists curled at her sides. Quinn shot her one of her famous eye brow arches, not at all impressed with the show. If Rachel had ever planned on hitting her she would have already done so. She shot a look at Mercedes who shook her head and told the brunette to lock her car and forget the notebook. Rachel spent the moment trying to explain why taking notes might be a necessity which was quickly dismissed when Quinn pointed out that she could always save a draft in her phone. Rachel had looked put off by her point, and when Quinn turned to look at her she thought that she caught the diva stomping her foot in frustration. She bit her tongue to keep from calling her out on the childish move. There was no need to provoke her further. Instead she sighed and asked the girl, in the most polite voice she could muster, to lead the way.
When they started walking she fell back behind Rachel, Mercedes right behind her.
The auditorium at Carmel was far more impressive than the one at McKinley. That was one of her first observations. It reminded her of the sort she used to see touring plays and musicals at. As a kid her mom used to take her and her sister to see a couple of shows. Carmel's auditorium was obviously not that far up to standards, but it came very close. It was massive and there was a balcony. Which was not the easiest thing to locate in the dimly lit school. It was after hours and it appeared that only Vocal Adrenaline was around. Quinn had not seen anyone on the field for football or at cheerleading practice. Maybe it was strange that the sport activities were the first thing she had looked for. She assumed it was just because she missed being a Cheerio. She could frantically deny it all she wanted, but deep down she ached to wear the uniform again. She missed the sense of power and belonging that went with it.
"If we get caught are we going to have to go to jail?" Quinn asked in a whisper and she followed Rachel to the seats. Her head was down as she tried to avoid being seen. Rachel's only response that stealing their ideas was not illegal. Which would have been a good answer if that was what she was referring to. No, she was considering that maybe they technically could be considered as trespassers.
It took Quinn a moment for her eyes to adjust once they were seated. It was eerie being the only people seated in the house. It was dark, the house lights were dimmed. The stage was far brighter. She would not be able to look at anything else even if she wanted to. The lights onstage seemed especially bright. Jesse had once mentioned that their spotlights were ten times brighter than anything at McKinley. She feared to see those in use if the lights already made her squint.
Then she had to pause because she was thinking about Jesse again. She pulled at her cardigan in discomfort.
Once she managed to get over the lights and the eerie feeling of sitting in the dark (she was seriously waiting for a loud booming voice to announce that they were the Phantom of the Opera), she could focus on Vocal Adrenaline. Except she couldn't see any of their faces. They were covered from head to toe in red lace just like Rachel had said they would be. She could easily see why the store would have been completely out of the fabric.
Next her eyes followed their movements. They weren't even singing, just dancing. They were working on choreography in costume. She glanced toward their choir director and Quinn noticed how displeased she looked. Quinn couldn't imagine why. From what she could see they looked fantastic. Their movements were sharp and precise. Even without vocals they were fantastic. New Directions didn't stand a chance, she realized grimly. Maybe they never did.
But she was brought out of her thoughts by the director halting all of their movement.
Her eyes fell to the center of the group. She had been watching a specific pair since they had entered. They were the best of the group and truly looked like they were trying the hardest. She hardly realized that Rachel was talking about the director's methods. She leaned forward in her seat, intently focused on the pair. He looked like Jesse, his build… oh, but she couldn't see his face!
She jumped a little at Rachel's next comment and watched as the memberes of Vocal Adrenaline moved off stage to make room for their instructor. Her eyes were still glued to the guy's form. Ugh. Why couldn't he just lift the damn veil? He had behaved so much like Jesse. He was so sure of himself… the way he reacted to the director's words…
Quinn fumbled around for her phone, hardly caring about its glare and that Rachel might catch her texting her boyfriend again for the second time.
She quickly sent a hurried text. She couldn't be sure that Jesse even had his phone on him, especially if he actually was one of the guys dressed in red.
Are you alright? I'm worried.
It sounded a little clingy but she couldn't find it in herself to care. She waited. She listened to the woman's voice with a smile and waited. The movement to her left caused her to turn and in horror she realized that Rachel was standing, her fixed on the stage. It took her another moment to realize that she meant to walk down to it.
"Where are you going?" Mercedes asked with her brows furrowed.
"Get back here!" Quinn hissed in irritation but Rachel kept moving.
Quinn saw a flash of blue white light below just as Rachel neared the front of the stage. She didn't have time to see just who had checked their phone because in that exact moment Rachel spoke and everything seemed to freeze. Shelby Corcoran was Rachel's mom and Quinn noticed the members of Vocal Adrenaline getting antsy in their seats.
"Get down!" Quinn whispered hurriedly and she pulled Mercedes to duck of eyesight just as a group of them turned around.
Mercedes was mumbling under her breath but Quinn didn't hear any of it. She was cursing Rachel mentally. Not only were they now stranded without a ride (because she doubted Rachel would be leaving any time soon) but she had missed her chance. She hoped that the guy hadn't been Jesse, she wished it wasn't. How could it be? He wouldn't do that. But a part of her argued that he most certainly would and Quinn hated to listen to that. She had a feeling that stupid voice in the back of her head was right.
"Come on," she whispered and the pair exited as quietly as they could. After a moment of silence Quinn began to panic.
"I called my dad," Mercedes offered and it was only then that Quinn even remembered Mercedes and her hushed whispering. "He's on his way home from a dental convention and he said he could pick us up. It's on the way home."
"Okay, thanks," she sighed and pulled out her phone, glaring at the screen. No new messages.
They didn't have to wait long. Mr. Jones had arrived after ten minutes. They car ride had been silent and Quinn had politely asked if he could drop her off at the park by Puck's house. It was close to seven. She knew that Emily would be there with the kids. Mr. Jones only agreed after she promised that she had a way home.
The park was dark when she walked up toward the hill. She watched the ground as she moved. She could hear the sound of children laughing but she didn't see a flash of red hair anywhere. When she looked up she was close enough to the bench. She caught sight of a retreating figure. Brown hair… dark clothes.
"Jesse?" Quinn whispered to herself before shouting. "Jesse!"
She thought that she saw the person pause but they kept walking. She wondered if she had actually seen anything at all. She fought the urge to stomp her foot when the man was out of view completely. She walked to the bench instead and sat down. The bench was warm. Her eyes widened and again she looked for the man. Could it really have been Jesse? And if it was why hadn't he turned around?
She heard a giggle and Quinn glanced at the playground. A familiar head of red hair was spotted. The girl looked up and met her gaze before smiling shyly and scampering over to her mother.
"Mommy, Quinn is here," the little girl said quickly and Emily automatically turned.
When Emily finally noticed her she smiled warmly. It was a fond thing to see. It was something that she needed to see. Maybe Jesse didn't want her around but Emily did. Ugh. She was so pathetic. Would she have to beat Jesse out of her head? At this point it seemed highly possible. Instead, Quinn raised a hand and waved with a grin plastered on her face. When Emily walked over, Bonnie hugged her legs tightly for maybe a second before taking off again.
"Where's Jesse?" Emily asked before sitting down next to her and Quinn fought the urge to wince.
"He's sick," she replied flatly.
"Oh really? Poor guy. He must be beating himself up over that." Emily sighed and glanced off toward her kids. Quinn spotted Arthur with other kids she recognized from his soccer team.
"I'm sure." Quinn did cringe then. Her voice sounded so bitter and cold. It was no surprise that Emily caught on quickly.
"What did he do?" She asked and turned her face to look at her.
"I just - I don't know. I have this feeling that he isn't sick. I feel like he's ignoring me and I feel pathetic for feeling hurt because of that. And I'm pretty sure I saw him a couple minutes ago when I walked up to the bench but he didn't reply when I called his name. I feel like some paranoid, clingy girlfriend and I hate it." Quinn shrugged and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
"You shouldn't. It's normal to feel concerned, Quinn, you do ca-"
"Don't say it," Quinn quickly cut her off. She didn't want to hear what she already knew. Of course Emily only smirked.
"You care about him," she insisted gently.
"I know," Quinn replied quietly. There was a moment of silence and she pursed her lips before sighing. "Can't you just be like a normal friend and insist that he's a jerk and I don't need him?"
"No," she replied softly. "Because I think right now you do need him and you feel that way too. You wouldn't be so upset if you didn't believe it. You want to keep a friend that could be distancing themselves, it makes sense."
"I hate it when you're right." Quinn sighed before looking off toward Arthur. The little blonde was playing a small game of soccer with his team mates. "He's actually pretty good."
"He wants you to come to one of his games. He's very persistent about it actually." Emily laughed under her breath.
"I'd love to go to one," Quinn smiled and waved over to Arthur when he finally looked up.
"He's going to be excited."
Quinn glanced down at her stomach. She could feel the suggestion building in her throat but she couldn't force it out. It wasn't something that she could just blurt out randomly. But it was plaguing her mind. She knew she didn't want to keep the baby. She knew it wouldn't be best for her daughter if she did. But when she thought about adoption she always thought of Emily. She saw how great she was with her kids and Quinn knew she wanted that for the little girl growing inside her. Quinn just knew that she couldn't be able to give her that and she couldn't keep her subconscious from suggesting that maybe Emily could.
But it wasn't the sort of thing asked randomly.
Oh, hey, Emily, I really like that shirt. How would you feel about adopting my baby?
Yet, even Quinn understood that trying to wait for a buildup was pointless.
"Can I ask you a question?" Quinn asked rather hesitantly, cutting Emily off just as she was about to speak. "Oh, I'm sorry. Um, you go ahead."
"I just need to tell someone," Emily sighed and Quinn fumbled with her fingers nervously. "I'm pregnant."
"What?" Quinn squeaked and froze. "Ha-have you told Paul?"
"No," Emily shook her head to further her point. "We had talked about having another kid before and he seemed perfectly fine with the two we were raising. He seemed so reluctant to have a third. I'm afraid to tell him."
"That's silly," Quinn smiled and continued gently, "he loves you and he's going to love this baby. I doubt he'll be angry at all."
"I'm just nervous about telling him."
"How long have you known?"
"I took a test last week. I went to see a doctor yesterday to be sure."
"You need to tell him," Quinn urged and pulled her hand lightly. "I don't think you really need to worry about it."
"I hope you're right." Emily whispered with her eyes fixed on her still flat stomach. "I'm sorry, what did you want to ask?"
"Oh," Quinn trailed off. She bit her lip. "I just wanted to know when Arthur's next soccer game was."
"Friday, I think," Emily paused to consider it. "Or maybe it was Saturday… I'll call you later when I know the date for sure."
"Great, thanks."
The rest of the time at the park involved Bonnie bringing Quinn a small daisy. The little redhead crawled onto the bench and tucked it in her hair just where her braid ended. Quinn could only smile and say thank you. But was even more surprising was Bonnie asking her to braid her hair. After a couple of minutes Bonnie took off, the single braided plait hitting her back as she raced to show her older brother. This led to Arthur bringing his soccer ball over and Quinn having to explain that she couldn't play because she wasn't able to see her feet.
With all the childish chaos going on it was fairly easy to hide her disappointment. Emily was a fantastic mother and Quinn knew that deep down the older woman was excited for this new baby. It made Quinn consider whether or not to keep her own child but her decision always remained the same. It would worry her if her daughter didn't find a good family. She'd be lying if she said she didn't lose sleep over it. But she could hardly bring it up now. So she stayed quiet about it. She maintained just the right amount of small talk, politely declined going out for ice cream, and graciously accepted a ride home.
When she walked into the Puckerman residence she caught sight of Puck's mom in the kitchen. She didn't miss the exasperated look she shot her way and she quickly realized what she supposedly did to deserve such a look when she glimpsed the pizza box in her hand. It was then that she remembered Puck had desperately instructed her to eat the rest of her half of the pizza in hopes that his mother wouldn't find out. It became obvious by the ways he violently dumped the left overs in the trash that the bits of bacon had been discovered and she was hardly pleased to see it.
Quinn didn't acknowledge her and that wasn't the mature thing to do but she suspected Puck's mom didn't expect that from her. At least Finn's mom had treated her politely. It was because of pity and disappointment but she was polite about it. Puck's mom always seemed disgusted by the very sight of her and there was only so much she could really take. Quinn wasn't in the mood for a lecture. She didn't need anybody else to berate her about her poor life choices. Or maybe she did but that didn't mean she wanted to hear it. Even if she probably should.
"Hey, Quinn, how did the spying go?"
"I don't want to talk about it," she replied and rolled her eyes in Puck's general direction.
"Did you get caught?" he was sitting in front of the TV frantically firing away.
"Puck! I'll talk to you about it tomorrow okay?"
"Somebody is moody," he grumbled and Quinn contemplated turning around for a minute before deciding against it.
Quinn got up to her room and checked her cell phone. She wasn't surprised to see the lack of messages displayed. No, it wasn't surprising at all. That didn't mean it hurt any less. She could easily remember a time when she'd get multiple requests to get a cup of coffee or go see a movie. Now her phone was almost always silent except for the occasional glee kid reminding her of a rehearsal. It was getting easier to pretend it didn't sting, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt.
Quinn was determined when she dialed Jesse's number. She felt nothing but shock when she heard somebody actually pick up.
"Hello?" she asked while doing her best to shield the surprise in her voice.
"Uh, hi." It was a male voice and they sounded just as bewildered as she felt.
"Is Jesse there?" she asked as the guy seemed to talk to somebody in the background."
"No…" It sounded more like a question than an answer.
"Then why do you have his phone?"
"Well, he is here but he's sleeping."
"So why are you answering his phone?" She could hear the evident suspicion. She was sure he could too.
"I didn't want it to wake him up. He's been sick, you know," he said after she could hear hushed whispering in the background. "I dropped by to bring him some soup or something my mom made. Jesse's mom is like her best friend so she insisted."
"Oh, I see," she sighed into the phone. That was the stupidest excuse she had ever heard.
"I'll tell him you called," he offered with a chuckle.
"Don't bother," Quinn snapped in return. "Just tell him I know what he's doing. In fact, why don't you just put it on speaker? You and I both know he's not asleep and he's having you tell him what I say."
"Look, I don't know why you're so upset but-" Quinn chose to cut him off but noted that his voice didn't sound as clear. She suspected he had actually listened to her. She hoped he did.
"I saw you at the park today and I know what you're doing, Jesse," she repeated. "Or I at least have a pretty good idea. So I hope you're happy. I trusted you. We all did. I hope it was worth it."
She hung up before she could hear the stranger's response. She had planned on leaving a voice mail but somehow it felt more empowering to say it knowing that he was listening. But she supposed that technically she didn't actually know if Jesse was there. She was, however, fairly certain that her assumption was correct.
"I'm such an idiot," she said to herself lightly and laughed in disbelief. The sound made her cringe.
The baby stirred in her stomach and it brought her out of whatever daze she found herself in. The ache in her feet tackled her just as a muscle in her back twitched and she did wince. She sat down, looking up at the ceiling. Such a teenage cliché. She didn't even realize she was falling asleep until the alarm clock woke her up the next morning. She woke up in a clumsy hurry to shut off the alarm, noticing her mused hair and her now wrinkled dress. Her phone had no new messages, to be expected, and she hurriedly plugged it in before moving about to get ready for school. She wasn't prepared to deal with today. Not when they had a performance to do. Her costume was back at the school, something Kurt had offered to make for her given her "condition" but she quickly packed a bag of the suggested make up.
The day was going by slowly, dragging on to the point of it being unbearable. She was falling behind in English again and she wondered how Jesse was fairing with the history homework. They were discussing the business cycle, which really had more to do with Economics, but Quinn didn't complain, just followed along. They had a test at the end of the week. Hopefully he was studying while he was "sick" so that he would be prepared. But then Quinn remembered that she was angry with Jesse and probably should not be acknowledging anything positive. So when Puck showed up at her locker she smiled and greeted him, fully expecting to hopefully have a pleasant conversation to take her mind off of yesterday's events. She almost scoffed in her frustration when Puck blurted out the idea of baby names. Then the pleasantries turned into automatic frustration and annoyance. They had tried discussing baby names once before. It always ended with her arguing that she didn't want to keep the baby so she didn't particularly want to think about naming it.
"You want to name our daughter Jack Daniels? She's a girl!" Quinn exclaimed only a moment after Puck made the suggestion.
"Okay, fine, whatever. Jackie Daniels."
"The name is not the point. I told you this. I'm giving up the baby so I don't have to do this with you." She couldn't hide the irritation in her voice and Puck looked mildly alarmed but she was past the point of caring. "This is good for you. Now you can go off and be a rock star yourself."
Her locked was slammed shut before she turned to walk away.
Quinn probably could have strangled Puck in that moment. Maybe her anger was irrational but she really had not been in the best of moods lately. Puck blamed it on her hormones (as he usually did) when she came home after the park. She had brushed his questions off and walked upstairs before he could do anything about it. She couldn't help but assume that Jesse had been the guy in the middle at the Vocal Adrenaline rehearsal, the guy at the park. She wished it wasn't but that stupid voice in the back of her head was begging her to realize that it was true. That way it wouldn't hurt quite so much when she found out she was right. But even then she knew that it would hurt either way. The phone call helped alleviate some aspects but it didn't entirely lessen the blow.
Instead, she stormed through the halls. It was almost like she was herself again, or rather who she was before the pregnancy. Nobody stood in her way as she made her way to the dressing rooms the theatre department so often used for their productions. She had already made sure her glee costume was hanging up. Her curling iron and makeup were in a bag shoved off in a far corner. When she grabbed it and dumped the contents on the counter she quickly shoved the plug into the socket. Her hands gripped the counters as if to steady herself and she slowly sucked in a breath to calm down. It wasn't really working.
"I just need to focus on this performance," she whispered to herself before nodding. The show goes on after all. That and every other cliché her mind managed to conjure up. It was something that Rachel had constantly tried to tell them. Although, most days nobody noticed what she saying. It came out as a rushed babble with vocabulary that would make any English teacher on campus roll their eyes. But she could understand where the diva was coming from. Quinn didn't want to focus very much on that. She was still angry with Rachel after all.
"You can do this."
Quinn smiled and grabbed at her makeup to begin the transformation.
When she finally managed to finish her makeup was so heavy that it made her eyes water. Although it was possible that the bright feathers hanging from her eye lashes had something to do with it. She brushed that aside as she firmly secured the pink extensions to her hair. Overall she looked absolutely ridiculous, especially in the giant pink frock. She nailed her assignment.
She applied a little more lipstick while she waited for her curling iron to cool down.
Minutes later she was at the door, poking her head out to make sure no one was in the hallway. She was pretty sure part of Schuester's point was to get them to feel comfortable with who they were no matter what they were wearing but it was a little difficult to actually accomplish. So when she realized the hallway was empty she sighed with relief and headed to the choir room, gripping her bag and her prop. With the spikes, the object probably could be considered a weapon. Kurt had found it for her and she was too afraid to ask just where and how he managed to come by it.
She took a seat like she usually did when she entered the room and tucked her bag under the seat.
She didn't feel quite like a social pariah when she was in glee club. If that fact was ever made more noticeable then it would be in this moment that Quinn realized it. Throughout the room sat scattered Gaga look-a-likes. Brittany with a lobster shielding her eyes from view; Santana with a giant bow on top of her head with heels that would have killed Quinn's feet if she had worn them. Mercedes was completely decked out in silver while Tina drew attention with her dress seemingly made out of bubbles. Then there was Kurt, whose glitter mole and perfect replica heels stood out among the rest. Quinn smiled to herself and held up her spikey death trap (as she had so fondly decided to call it) with pride. Berry wasn't there yet but when she exchanged looks with Mercedes it was clear that they didn't know why. The guys weren't entirely sure what to think. Their eyes danced around between each girl as if they were trying to figure out if they should complement them or just look excited or bored. Quinn thought that Jesse would have complimented them for their theatricality if he had been there.
But it was painfully obvious that he wasn't present, not that the rest of the glee club cared. Although, it was a little easier to focus with Mr. Schue applauding them on their outfits, even if Quinn wasn't entirely sure how their costumes expressed them individually.
"Wait, where's Rachel? I mean, I only noticed because like five minutes have gone by without her saying something totally obnoxious," Puck said once they all managed to sit down and Quinn fought the urge to roll her eyes.
"Rachel got some kind of intense news yesterday," Mercedes started before Quinn jumped in.
"We were spying on Vocal Adrenaline and-"
Mr. Schue cut her off. Quinn couldn't even bother to feel frustrated by it. She suspected he would pull something of that sort. He had to act like the proper authority figure that he pretended to be even though deep down he probably would have preferred to maintain his role as their friend and mentor. But his curiosity got the better of him, as Quinn figured it would. He inquired about what they were working on, as he rightfully should have. If he wanted them to win at Regionals, he was right to wanting to know what the competition was up to. Sue had done it time after time and, quite frankly, she thought Mr. Schue was an idiot for not asking earlier. A competition was still a competition.
That was the moment of the unveiling. There was no awkward silence as Quinn had envisioned. Instead she found herself nodding after Mercedes spoke and feeling less than overcome by the immediate reaction. There was brief shock, followed by unbelief, followed by paranoia. She could not deny that she had been guilty of such thoughts. It made sense for Rachel to jump over to Vocal Adrenaline. She often spoke of lack of appreciation her voice received and even Quinn knew that Vocal Adrenaline would be Rachel's chance to shine. To her, their paranoia seemed completely justified. She could see it happened. But of course Rachel herself would be the one to squash all of their doubts, making her grand entrance once the conversation picked up. Her denial was overshadowed by her hideous outfit and Quinn fought the urge to laugh.
A dress made of stuffed animals, now that was just lovely. There was no polite way to comment on her choice of costume so Quinn decided to remain silent, staring down at her feet (even if she couldn't really see them) until it was time to perform. And perform they did. Quinn managed to completely lose herself in the performance, something she really hadn't done since "Keep Holding On". It was a welcome change. Quinn made a mental note to try and focus on music more often. The time after the performance was something different entirely.
Santana and Brittany headed off to do whatever it is they did. Quinn had her suspicions but chose to never vocalize them. Mercedes was kind enough to invite Quinn and Rachel to have dinner and watch a movie at her house but both girls politely declined. Quinn figured Rachel wanted to talk to her mom and Quinn just really wanted to get home and sleep. Or read a book or do homework or something. But more than anything she wanted to shut her brain off. Because as she glanced over at Rachel all she could really think about was Jesse and she wanted be rid of him so much that it was painful. He was acting like a douche. But she couldn't help but be concerned, even with what happened with the phone call the night before.
"Rachel?" Quinn hesitated just before speaking. She and the brunette were the only two left in the room. Rachel was staring off to space while Quinn was in the process of wiping her makeup off. She had changed directly after their performance. Rachel, however, was still in her hideous stuffed animal dress. Apparently she had also gone deaf.
"Rachel?" She tried again a little louder. Quinn sighed with irritation. "Hey, man hands, can you listen to me for two seconds please?"
"There was no need for that hurtful name, Quinn. I heard you."
"Well, you didn't answer so I said what I figured would catch your attention," Quinn quickly refuted with a shrug. "It worked obviously."
"Did you ever stop to consider the option that perhaps I just don't feel up to indulging in meaningless small talk with you?" Rachel replied with a pointed look and Quinn rolled her eyes.
"Nope. But now that you've answered me you might as well hear me out," Quinn smiled and wiped at her cheeks before plucking off the distractingly long lashes. "Have you heard from Jesse?"
"Quinn, you've asked me this already. I told you, he's sick. Frankly, you're coming off as a clingy girlfriend and I don't appreciate how concerned you seem to be with my boyfriend."
"Relax, treasure trail, we're just friends. Though I suppose now you know what it feels like." Quinn fired back after wiping the last bit of makeup off. The towelette was flung into the garbage.
"What, what feels like?" Rachel asked, glancing up curiously.
"To be worried about your boyfriend." Quinn turned to look directly at her. "To feel threatened and worry that his interest might be wavering."
"W-what do you mean?"
"You know exactly what I mean." Quinn moved so that she was less than a foot away from the girl. She was looking down at her, she needed to be in control of this situation. "Rachel, in this equation, Jesse is Finn."
Quinn turned on her heel and walked to the door before pausing. Rachel remained uncharacteristically silent. She glanced over her shoulder, her fingers gripping the door.
"What sort of boyfriend would he be to completely ignore his girlfriend? Something is wrong, Rachel. It's not right. He's been MIA and if I were you, I'd be worried. He's either on his death bed or plotting something."
Quinn was gone after that, letting the door close gently behind her.
It didn't open again until the next day and she was lost in the bizarre routine all over again. It seemed like karma was at her back because she was left to get ready with Rachel in the room. Her hideous animal dress was out of sight but the diva was dressed in the outfit she wore to school. Quinn just shrugged it off and continued to get ready, painting on the new face that Gaga would prance around in. She didn't like all that makeup. It made her eyes water and her skin felt pasty as if it had been smothered in glue. The dress was itchy and the pointy death trap was heavy. But Quinn didn't feel up to complaining and sucked it up, leaving before she got the chance to see Rachel's outfit. But she saw it later when Rachel pranced around in it before the KISS performance. Which, Quinn had to admit, she was pleasantly surprised to see. They were far more theatrical compared to what Quinn had been expecting.
They were even wearing more makeup than she was.
So it was strange to see them return to the classroom with their faces bare while the rest of the girls were still in costume. Quinn was leaning over and chatting with Brittany, trying to keep up some form of conversation and failing. The girl was so difficult to talk to and she kept going on and on about her cat and his addiction to stealing all her Cheese-Itz. It was an understatement to say she was surprised when Puck moved to stand at the center of the room. Overwhelming might have been a better word, but Quinn was always taught to maintain her composure and that's what she tried to do even as it grew increasingly difficult. His speech was enough to make her tear up but once he got into the song itself she knew she was crying.
There was something about Puck that kept her coming back. She suspected it had everything to do with the side of him he rarely showed to the rest of the people at McKinley. What he was showing right now in front of the glee club. He seemed so vulnerable up there at the front of the choir room. His eyes were focused only on her. Even when Finn began singing his brief part (and it Quinn only later realized that the lyrics in question were directed at Kurt) she held eye contact with Puck.
It was only when his face began to drift out of focus that she realized she was even crying. She would have loved to blame her hormones for her tears. She probably could have gotten away with blaming her heavy makeup and fake eyelashes but she held back. She'd be lying to herself. She cared for Puck. Sometimes, like now, he made it hard not to.
"I know you're giving her up but before you do, I think you should name her Beth. If you'll let me, I'd really like to be there when she's born. I'd really like to meet her." After he finished, she nodded. Because in that moment she would have promised him anything.
Instead, they all went to Kurt's rescue. They had all received their fair amount of bullying. Standing up for Kurt, in a way, was like standing up for themselves. Even if they were shot down, called freaks, it was something. And Quinn herself was near blissfully happy.
At least she was until she remembered Jesse.
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