Across These City Streets
Author's note,
Summary: Four years after graduating from William McKinley High Quinn finds herself living a peaceful life in a small New York apartment. Her studies at Yale are coming to an end and she is getting ready to move into adulthood. Her quiet life takes an unexpected turn though when a familiar face re-enters her life.
Include Faberry-friendship and the Unholy Trinity.
Rated T for language, violence and sexual references. The story will contain spoilers from the first three seasons of Glee. Most of the main characters from the hit show will be mentioned in the story, but it focuses mainly on Quinn, Sam, Rachel, Finn and Santana.
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee nor do I own any of its characters.
End of author's note and now on to the story, but don't forget that reviews are highly appreciated!
Chapter 9
A little over a week and a half had passed since the incident in the gym with Sam and Finn, when I was forced to confront one of the two men. And to say that I was nervous would have been a huge understatement.
Since that night at the gym I had been effectively avoiding both men. The two of them had left at least one voice message each on my phone but I had neglected to call either of them back. Some might want to call it childish behavior on my part, but the truth was I felt so ashamed that I simply couldn't stand talking to neither of them.
Nevertheless, here I sat by a set dinner table together with Finn, Kurt, Blaine, LeRoy and Hiram waiting for Rachel to arrive. The short brunette woman had just gotten off stage after her first performance as Elphaba in Wicked, and naturally she wanted to celebrate. Thus she had invited her fathers and all her closest friends to meet her at a fancy restaurant downtown.
Feeling a little out of place I awkwardly kneaded the hem of my dark blue baby doll dress while I did my best not to catch Finn's empty stare. Beside me Blaine, to my left, and Kurt, to my right, were deeply engaged in a conversation with Rachel's two fathers concerning Broadway now and then. Names like Chita Rivera, Brian Stokes Mitchell, Patti LuPone, Nathan Lane and Liza Minnelli were mentioned together with Jan Maxwell, Kelli O'Hara, Steve Kazee and Jeremy Jordan. To me, a very small number of those names rang a bell; of course I knew who Liza Minnelli and Patti LuPone were, after all I wasn't born yesterday, but the others . . . I can't say I've ever heard of their names before.
By the time we finished the main course my mood had lightened a little. I didn't have to fight to pull off a perfect fake smile, the smiles actually came naturally and I had even managed to exchange a few friendly words with Finn, despite the tension that still sat between the two of us. Perhaps Kurt and Rachel's idea of Finn and me spending some time together in the company of others did all those good things to me. Or maybe it was just the wine...
Nevertheless, we had quite a good time. We talked about all sorts of things; school, work, theatre, Broadway, food, movies, music, friends we had in common, home decoration and clothes. Mostly we talked about Glee Club and music though. It was the one thing we all had in common. Well, LeRoy and Hiram never were in Glee Club with us, but they knew quite a lot about it from everything Rachel had told them.
We were all smiling at a story Blaine had just told about how he ended up at McKinley High because of Kurt, whom he referred to as not only his first real love but also the love of his life, when Finn completely unannounced started chuckling.
A bit confused and certainly surprised everyone around the table slowly turned their heads to gaze at the laughing brown haired man. His eyes were beginning to water slightly as he tried to suppress an additional fit of laughter.
Beside Finn Rachel was glancing worriedly at him. "Are you okay, honey?" I heard her whisper quietly while she tugged lightly at the sleeve of his dark blazer. Finn just nodded and started to laugh even harder.
"Yeah! Yeah! I'm fine," he managed to breathe after a while. "Do you remember in sophomore year when Kurt got the entire football team to perform 'Single Ladies' during one of our games?" he exclaimed excitedly, while he begun move his body to an inaudible beat at the same time as he brought his hands up in front of him to point at his ring finger.
"Don't underestimate the power of a good R'nB track and some kickass dance moves. You won that game because of me, Finn Hudson!" Kurt pointed out with a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye. Everyone around the table burst out into laughter.
It wasn't until LeRoy open his mouth to speak that we managed to calm ourselves a little. The older man had been observing his daughter's fiancé for quite some time.
"What happened to your hand, Finn?" LeRoy asked trying not to sound too suspicious. But the way his eyes were narrowing and his forehead wrinkled told me he already had a pretty good idea of what had happened. It is scary sometimes how much parents can 'feel' what's going on. I am certain that my mother knew I was pregnant way before I told her and my father – or rather, before Finn told them . . .
"Oh, that," the brunette mumbled as if he just now noticed the healing cuts on his right hand knuckles. Dried blood, almost black to the color, signaled where the skin had raptured and the ragged skin around the scratches had taken on a light hint of red where bacteria had obviously found its way into the lacerations before he had had time to clean them. Finn clenched and unclenched his fist a few times before he withdrew his hand from on top of the table and placed it in his lap.
An intense tension quickly settled over us and I could feel how my throat was growing uncomfortably tight and dry.
Finn was blinking slowly; I could practically see the wheels in his head turning as he tried to come up with an excuse that wouldn't sound too far-fetched. Admitting that you beat up one of your best friends over a misunderstanding wasn't exactly the thing you wanted to share with your future fathers-in-law.
Beside me Kurt was shifting in his seat awkwardly whilst he tried to not catch Hiram or LeRoy's eye. The slim fashion designer had never been very good at keeping secrets.
As the tension grew more wearing I could feel my throat tightening even more and the back of my eyes beginning to burn. The last thing I wanted right now was to drag LeRoy and Hiram into this mess.
I couldn't let them see my tears thus I rose from the table with the excuse that I needed to go to the lady's room.
It was days like this one that I was glad I always carried additional sets of more or less everything that could be found in the hot pink vanity case, which I stored at home in my bathroom cabinet, in my purse.
With a slightly shaky hand—my crying may have ceased, but the shaking sure hadn't—I applied a thin layer of black mascara to my upper lashes and a little rosy lip gloss on my lips, before I decided I looked acceptable enough to return to the table where Rachel, Kurt, Blaine and the others probably were starting to wonder what was going on.
I had not gotten much further than a few feet outside the bathroom door before a hand on my shoulder made me startle. Quickly I spun around to find Finn standing there looking rather uncomfortable and insecure. "I've talked to Sam," he said in a voice barely louder that a whisper, before I could form any kind of word. I remained silent, simply because I had no idea what to respond to that.
"He says he's cool."
I nodded slowly. I was glad to hear that the two men had worked out their little dispute, but I still hadn't talked to Sam after I dropped him off by his car in the gym parking lot, for obvious reasons.
"I'm really sorry, Quinn," Finn mumbled and lowered his gaze to the floor. "It's just that you still mean a lot to me even though we're not dating. You'll always be special to me."
His words were sweet and I know any other girl would probably be melting on the inside right now, but apparently I'm not like everyone else. At least not anymore. On the contrary, the pain I felt was excruciating, it was as if someone had gotten a firm grip on my heart and just kept squeezing it. I know I should probably be glad for the fact that he finally manned up and apologized for his behavior, but for some reason it just made me feel even guiltier. Had I just talked to Sam the day after his party none of this would have happened . . .
Suddenly my eyes were moist again and I inwardly cursed myself. I was weak! Once again not wanting to show anyone my tears, not even Finn, I rapidly I shook my head before I mumbled something along the line of 'I have to go, tell Rachel I'm sorry,' and then I hurried out of the restaurant.
Hot tears were burning the back of my eyes and my vision was awfully blurry when I finally managed to flag down a yellow cab. The driver gave me a compassionate look but chose not to speak, which I was awfully grateful for.
My shift was finally starting to come to an end when the clock stroke 11.30 pm. It had been an unusually busy night and by now my head was feeling slightly heavy and my feet quite sore. With a heavy sigh I entered the only personnel bathroom, at the rear of the bar, and closed the door behind me.
The cold water from the tap felt good against my face as I splashed it over my face. As I straightened my back again I took a good look at the woman that was staring back at me in the mirror. The long blonde hair that had been pulled into a high pony—kind of like the one Coach Sylvester forced us Cheerios to sport—had gotten slightly messy after all the hours of serving drinks to already half wasted men and women. Tired hazel orbs were staring back at me as the cold water dripped from my chin.
With a loud sigh I grabbed a couple of paper towels from the shelf and dried my face with them. Then I pulled out the red rubber band that had been used to hold together my now below shoulder blade long hair. Quickly I raked my hands through the blonde mess before I effortlessly pulled it up into a perfect tight high pony again. I threw another glance at the young woman in the bathroom mirror. Coach Sylvester would be proud I noted as I observed my spotless and smooth ivory skin, the straight back and the perfect high pony.
A light knock on the door brought me out of my thoughts and I swiftly smoothed out the wrinkles on my white blouse before I turned the brass knob and gently pushed the door open. Outside I was greeted by Landon who wore a rather concerned look on his face.
A tad surprised, both by the look on his face, and to find him outside the bathroom door and not behind the counter, I worriedly asked him what was going on.
The brunette brought his right hand up to rub at his neck. "Laura called in sick again," he mumbled quietly. "My uncle's telling me to ask you to take her shift. I know you've already worked for like eight consecutive hours, but there's no one else I can ask. Clair, as you know, is in Chicago and Dana can't find a babysitter—"
"You're rambling," I mumbled quietly while I slowly closed the bathroom door behind my back. Landon stared at me in silence for a short moment before he seemed to snap out of his stupor. He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets.
"I'll take her shift. No worries," I said and offered him a small smile that I hoped looked more cheerful than I felt. He nodded rapidly and thanked me before he hurried back to the counter.
About three minutes later I returned to the 'floor' as the other waitresses and I used to call it. It was, as I had already noted about a hundred times, an awfully busy night.
I was busy picking empty glasses and bottles from a deserted table when a voice behind me startled me and almost made me drop the tray I was balancing in one hand. "Quinn?" the deep yet soft voice queered. I didn't need to think twice to recognize who it belonged to. And honestly it scared the living shit out of me. Wasn't one confrontation enough for forty-eight hours?
Obviously fate didn't think so, and neither did Sam Evans.
In slow motion I positioned the last glass on the tray before I turned around. Perhaps I was hoping that if I moved slowly enough he would think that he had confused me with someone else. Sam is not stupid though, despite all the times his mathematics and history teachers told him otherwise.
"Hey," he said softly, a small lopsided grin plastered on his face. The way his eyes cringed and how his cute dimples became visible showed that he was genuinely happy to see me, despite how our last meeting ended. "I didn't expect to find you here."
Something told me that that was a lie, but I didn't have the strength to start an argument with him at this point. Especially not because of such a trifle.
It turned out I didn't need to confront him about it though.
"Well, actually Finn told me about it . . ." he said and rubbed his neck in a nervous gesture. "I've been trying to call you. I think we need to—"
I sighed loudly. "Listen, Sam, I don't have time for this right now. If you haven't noticed I've got work to do," I said irritated not wanting to have that conversation with him right here right now. I know I probably overreacted a little, but I was tired and all I really wanted was to go home and crawl into bed though that was not going to happen anytime soon.
"Q! Quinn, you listen to me!" Sam said, raising his voice only a little, but it was enough to grab the attention of the people closest around us.
The blonde man had always been the one of us who had been the best of keeping his calm. However, he grabbed my wrist as I was about to spin around and walk away from him. His grip wasn't too firm, I knew he would never do anything that could hurt someone, but it was enough to keep me from going anywhere.
His ocean colored eyes gazed down at me with such intensity; I swear I was getting lightheaded from his stare alone. Even though I tried not to I couldn't help but notice how my own gaze seemed to gravitate towards his eyes. Those sweet sea water colored orbs had always intrigued me, probably because I could never determine what color they really were. Tonight they looked more emerald than sapphire though.
"You've been neglecting to answer my calls all week when, frankly, I believe that if it's someone who should be avoiding anyone I think it's Finn and me who should be avoiding each other." He still hadn't let go of my arm and his voice was still a few notches louder than usual. Around us a few guests had noticed our rather little dispute and turned their heads in our direction.
Out of the corner of my eye I spotted a brown haired man walking towards Sam and I. The red and blue light from the spotlights above the bar made his hair look as if it had blue, red and purple highlights in it, which looked quite funny.
"Is this man bothering you, Quinn?" Landon asked as he reached us. His face looked calm and so did his stance, but his eyes spoke a completely different story.
I hesitated for a short moment, debating whether it would be a wise move to pretend that I didn't know Sam. It would most likely get the blonde kicked out of the bar and I wouldn't have to have this talk with him right now, but on the other hand it would most likely turn into a scene and Sam would most certainly never want to talk to me again. Thus, I soon decided that that probably wouldn't be a very clever idea.
Therefore, after a sequence of rather pressing silence, I answered Landon's query with a weak shake of my head and a barely audible 'No'. The brunette gave me a questioning look which I returned with a quick smile. The last thing I needed right now was another fight.
"Well, if that's the case I guess I'll have to introduce myself," he said with a slight drawl as he put on the best friendly smile he could muster and extended a hand towards Sam. After some hesitation the blonde grabbed it and shook it firmly.
"Landon Parker. I'm an old friend of Quinn's. Actually we went to college together, kind of. I graduated a year before her, but we were on the same program. And who are you?"
Suddenly I felt a strong impulse of hitting Landon in the head. He could be the sweetest and friendliest guy, but at the same time he could manage to say the most idiotic things. Luckily, Sam didn't seem to get too offended by Landon's blunt query, or he had just become a better actor than he was in high school. However, I could sense some sarcasm in his words when he finally opened his mouth.
"Old friend, huh? Well, what do you know . . ." he muttered barely loud enough for anyone to pick up. I gave him a quick glance, but he didn't seem to notice. "The name's Sam Evans. Q and I, we go way back." As the blonde introduced himself something in Landon's eyes changed, though I cannot quite put my finger on what it was.
An awfully long sequence of silence passed when none of us knew what to say. I could tell Sam made several attempts, but the words died on his tongue before he could pronounce them. Beside him Landon had been shuffling his black Converse All Stars against the blank floor in need of having something to occupy himself with.
After what felt like an hour, but in fact was no more than half a second, the tall brunette spoke up. "So, Sam, you came here for a drink I presume? We've got some fine scotch I would recommend. My uncle personally imported it from Scotland."
The blonde appeared to be contemplating the suggestion for a moment, before he finally shook his head. Blonde bangs fell in his eyes as his head moved and a sudden urge to reach up and brush them away hit me. I slowly rocked on the heels of my black ballerina flats as I peered at him from under long black lashes.
"Nah. I think I'm gonna pass on that one. Work tomorrow, you know," Sam mumbled before he shoot Landon a simple 'bye' and gave me a quick glance. "See you, Quinn."
Landon and I watched as the broad-shouldered blonde pulled the front door open and stepped out into the mild night air.
"Sam Evans you said?" Landon uttered in a curious voice as he leaned his elbows on the counter top. Light gray eyes were observing my profile. Almost fifteen minutes had passed since the last costumer left the bar and Landon turned the sign on the door that said 'open' to show 'closed' instead. Completely drenched form all our physical power we both had dropped down on a bar stool each.
"Yeah," I said nodding my head.
The brunette used the hand not occupied by a bottle of mineral water to thoughtfully scratch his jaw. "The Ohio State quarterback Sam Evans?" he queered and I nodded, though a little hesitantly. I wasn't sure Sam had been QB; all I knew was that he had been enrolled at Ohio State University for some time and that he had played football there.
With raised eyebrows he gave me a surprised expression as if he wasn't entirely sure I was telling the truth. After a short moment of observing me he seemed to come to the conclusion that I was indeed being honest with him. "Oh, that's impressing," he mused aloud. "You know, he was a very promising player. I come from a real football family. Both my brother and I used to play, and so did my father and my grandfather and so on and so forth. Anyway, the experts anticipated that this Evans kid would go early in the draft. Like top ten," he said, and I found it quite amusing that he referred to Sam as 'kid'. How great was the age difference between them? One year? Two years? "I haven't heard anything about him in a while though . . ."
While chewing my bottom lip in thought I began to process what Landon had said. I had a vague memory of Sam mentioning Philadelphia . . . Eagles. Was it Eagles? "Well, I think he quit. There was this lockout, you know like the ones they've had in the NHL a few times—"
"You're interested in hockey? I didn't take you for that kind of girl," the brunette exclaimed with an astonished look on his face. Had he not looked so amusing I would probably have scolded him for making assumptions about me, even though he had a point – I wasn't really interested in hockey. But I hated it when people just assumed things about me because of how I looked or acted.
"Oh, no, no. Sam and Puck, Noah Puckerman, a friend of mine, are. They have tried to explain those lockouts to me I don't know how many times!"
"Oh, I see," he smirked.
"Mm."
"So this Evans dude, how do you know him?"
I furrowed my eyebrows. It seemed so long ago I first met the goofy blonde. Nevertheless, our first encounter was still fresh in my memory. Who forgets a guy—a quite handsome blonde guy with a cute smile, nevertheless—who introduces himself by saying: 'Hi, I'm Sam. Sam-I-am. And I don't like green eggs and ham'? The connection he made between his name and the undeniably popular children's book, was hilarious, in my opinion, though Santana didn't seem to be of the same opinion as she rudely stated that he would have 'no game'. Gosh, how wrong she was!
"Uh, he transferred to McKinley, the high school I went to, while I was in junior year," I informed him while finding it close to impossible to keep a small smile from sneaking up on my face.
"Really?" He gave me a raised eyebrow as if he wasn't completely buying the story.
I nodded. "Yeah. He was a real dork, you know. Comic book fan, quoted Avatar, he could even speak Na'vi more or less fluently, and he had this really ridiculous Bieber hair cut going on. You remember who Justin Bieber was?"
"Uh, yeah, I think so. Short, brown haired dude with girly voice?"
I tried to suppress a giggle but failed noticeably. "Yeah, that's Bieber."
"Cool. But what's Nahvee?"
I chuckled heartedly. "Na'vi. N-A-V-I; stress on the first syllable. It's the Avatar language."
"Oh." He shook his head slowly. "Well, that was kind of unexpected . . . But at the same time not." He laughed. "So what you're saying is that this dude, Sam Evans, used to be a real loser in high school?"
"What?" I snickered. "No, no, no. Or I mean . . . Well, I suppose . . . I guess he, we—" Landon shoot me a confused look. In his eyes one was either popular or unpopular. Landon had always been the popular type.
Taking a moment to think about how the girls talked about Sam in the locker room before him and I went public as a couple, and how Azimio, Karofsky and the guys on the hockey team never picked on him as they did on Artie, Finn, Kurt and the other guys, I came to the conclusion that he had probably always played in a league above the other Glee Club boys. And out of everyone in Glee Club I think he was the one with the lowest rate of slushie facials.
"Well, he was kind of popular, I guess. People liked him. But he was in Glee Club so I guess some of the jocks thought he was a bit weird or something." Deliberately I left out the part where everyone had thought that there was something going on between Kurt and him.
"Evans was in Glee Club? Like Glee Club as in show choir?" Landon stared at me with an almost shocked expression. I smiled and nodded. "That was certainly not what I had expected. So you're saying he can sing and dance too?"
"Yeah, he's actually really talented. I remember at Sectionals when we performed (I've Had) the Time of—What? Why do you look at me like that?" I stopped myself to ask, as I caught my friend staring at me with raised eyebrows and mouth agape.
"You sang with him? You were in Glee Club?" He let out a loud whistle. "Wow. You know, you never cease to amaze me, Quinn. I've known you for like, was it is now, three years, and I had no idea you were in Glee Club."
I snickered and tilted my head to the side.
Suddenly the sound of my phone vibrating on the smooth counter top caught our attention. Without hesitation I picked it up and opened the new text message I had received.
You know I'm not mad whit you? And I'm sorry for what I said to you in the car. I crossed the line there. I'm sorry! – Sam
At first I was a little confused. He had been quite polite when he had declined Landon's offer. Then I realized he wasn't referring to today. A small smile spread across my face. It felt good to know that Sam wasn't angry with me for what happened at the gym or in the car after the hospital. My smile only widened as I noticed that his dyslexia had made him misspell 'with' again. He always had a particularly difficult time with that word in high school and I remember how he always asked me to help proofread his essays before he handed them in.
Just as I was about to pocket my iPhone the device vibrated again.
You know I would never take advantage of you, right? You just looked so at pease, I coudn't wake you up. Sorry. – Sam
Author's note,
This is probably not one of my better chapters, I have to admit that. Actually, I had quite some problem piecing the different parts together, but in the end I think it turned out kind of okay. At least it showed how Finn and Quinn worked things out between them and Sam left a few messages for Quinn letting her know that things at his party may not have happened the way she think they did.
For those of you who are interested in finding out exactly what happened at Sam's party that will be revealed in the next chapter. Some familiar faces will appear as well, so if you—just like me—love Puck and his badassness, for example, I think you're gonna like the next chapter.
Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! :)
Guest: Thank you so much! I'm really glad to hear you like it! I will definitely not give up on this story, I can promise you that. Personally, I hate it when people publish stories and don't finish them, because you can't just leave the story with a huge cliffhanger and then never let the readers know what's going to happen ;)
SamEvans17: Thank you so much! It means a lot to me that there are people like you out there who keeps coming back to my stories week after week and leaving kind and encouraging reviews. It makes writing new chapters for this fanfic so much funnier and easier! :)
RJRRAA: Thank you! I'll try to get the next chapter done sometime at the beginning of next week. I'm almost finished with it; it just needs some proofreading and some small adjustments here and there.
gleekreader: Hello there! It's nice to see some new faces (in this case pennames) here. I'm glad that you find the chapter entertaining and hopefully you'll like this one as well even though it may not be the best chapter I've written.
