The two of them are at it again. It's three in the afternoon and they're fucking like jackrabbits in a burrow. At first they paid me the courtesy of kicking me out of the house. Then they just settled for being quiet. Now they can't get enough of each other and yell at the top of their lungs. I've put my music on full blast while I paint, but it doesn't drown out Barbie's moans of want or Rachel's begging. She begs Barbie so often. "Please Quinn, I deserve it" and "how can you do this to me" echo in my thoughts. I can't even look Rachel in the eye anymore. I speak with her at home and at school but I make sure to look at something else. I look at my breakfast plate, Karofsky giving a student a wedgie, anything but her joyful eyes and plump lips that have tasted Barbie's juices.
Now I'm listening to Roses by White Ring, the feral cries of the chorus mute some of Rachel's vocal lovemaking, but it gets to be too much when the thudding from their bed permeates my room walls. When they started going at it I would ditch the house, hang around the schoolyard or the mall. They have sex so frequently now though that people thought I was homeless and kept giving me spare change when I sat down to smoke a fag. I accept my fate now even if hearing Rachel moan someone else's name makes me want to rip my heart from my chest and punt it across the front yard. There's another "Rachel, I love you, I love you" and I put my paintbrush down.
I've been painting more now that classes pose no challenge to me. I find it therapeutic and Emma is pleased with my progress, even if she is disturbed by my portraits. I painted one of Emma with her demons surrounding her. A bit abstract but I was keen on it. There were killer grapes biting her hair. I painted one of the dad's in the style of American Gothic and they were thrilled. It's hanging above the fireplace. Santana has even agreed to let me paint her nude. I have yet to paint Rachel and I don't think I will. I see her enough as it is.
"You taste like iced tea" I hear Rachel murmur and what the actual fuck? Iced tea? Even Barbie's vagina is supernatural. I increase the volume of my music and hopefully they get the hint. I know Barbie doesn't mind flaunting their sex noises in my face, but I can't believe Rachel is so oblivious. She's always been so polite and courteous about everything else. It's exceptionally cruel of her especially when I touch myself listening to them. It's sad and pathetic, but when Rachel moans I can't help it. I pretend it's because of me. Always because of me.
My cell phone buzzes and I already know it is Santana. I reach for my phone and read her text. She's outside and wants in. I tell her the side door is open. I sometimes wish the Berry's were home more often and Rachel would have to curb her insatiable appetite. Santana barrels into my room and makes a grimace with her face.
"What the fuck?" I shrug and continue painting. She makes a barfing motion when she hears the thuds from the room next door. "How can you tolerate that?" I'm not sure. I'm pretty sure I'm a masochist. She shudders and walks over to my painting. She tilts her head and smirks. "Hot." I think Emily is too. It's a portrait of her from a photo I took of her topless over the summer, her back to the camera and her face peering over her shoulder. It's getting my mind off of Rachel. It isn't fair that I keep using Emily to keep my mind off of someone else.
"It's hard. Wanting two people at once," I mutter and I don't know why I'm telling Santana. True, she's become a trusted ally, but neither of us are the "talk about feelings" type. I should double up my therapy sessions with Emma. Santana doesn't say anything. She just strips and I must admit she has great breasts. I take my portrait of Emily down and put a blank canvas up. I wait for her to disrobe and she's beautiful but a lot skinnier than I assumed.
"Okay snaggletooth, where do you want me?" Snaggletooth is in reference to the fact that I'm British, however I am very secure in how perfect my teeth are. "You aren't going to make me do the Kate Winslet in Titanic pose are you? She had hairy pits in that and if you give me hairy pits so help me," I laugh and if anything I am indebted to Santana for allowing me that. I have her sit on the ground, her legs crossed and her arms in back of her. I ask if she's comfortable because she will have to sit there for a while. She shrugs and I begin the sketching. I have to remind her to keep her face still even though she continues to make nauseous faces in regards to the couple next door.
"Christ they go at it, huh?" Quinn and Rachel had come out at school and Quinn faced a few slushies and a demotion in the Cheerios pyramid, all of which she took in great stride. According to Rachel, Quinn's mother has started a cocktail hour with her friends where they watch episodes of the L word. They're reasoning is if Oprah's a lesbian, it can't be so bad. The dad's didn't take their coupling so well. They didn't care about Rachel dating a girl, the girl in question however was not who they envisioned.
After several awkward dinners where the Berry's grilled Barbie, I was sure they wouldn't allow Rachel to continue seeing her. They asked her why she felt the need to bully Rachel, went into detail about every night Rachel came home in tears because of Quinn's verbal abuse and how they were dismayed that Rachel had so little self esteem that she would so readily accept Quinn. Then Quinn had to give her "speech". It was gut wrenching, she sobbed and told them Rachel ignited something in her to make her want to be a better person. It went on and finally I had to excuse myself and stayed in my room smoking. I knew she won after that speech. I don't remember it verbatim but the bit about " there is no one else for me but her and I will spend every second making sure she knows that" kind of sealed the deal.
I remember seeing Rachel the day I knew she was no longer a virgin. She glowed, skipped to all of her classes and had a dream glaze over her face throughout dinner. I threw up in the loo twice that evening. The strange thing is, as much as I find the whole situation agonizing, I am pleased that Rachel is happy. I think Barbie knows that too. We never said it outright but we convey quite a deal with just a nod of our heads.
None of it matters. I will be back to Bristol in a few weeks time and am actually quite grateful. I don't know where Emily and I stand, but I will be happy to see her. I will be happy to see dingy pubs, fish and chips and horrible episodes of Corrie. Bristol doesn't seem like hell anymore and I have Lima to thank for that. This town is a complete shit hole. It makes Bristol look like paradise.
"Red is good for you," Santana says motioning her head to the half finished painting of Emily on the ground.
"You think so?" I ask sarcastically. I don't need her opinion especially when she's been pining over a vapid blonde all year. She's sweet but much too daft for Santana. She needs someone quick on her toes, cavalier and kind to those who deserve it. Naomi maybe. Wouldn't that be a goddamn laugh riot?
"Red won't drive you crazy. Dating an actress is never a good idea, they always need attention." I don't say anything. She is probably just sousing me out for clues. I won't play along. "Red also won't annoy you with Barbra Streisand songs or try and gag you with argyle socks during crazed sex games." Fuck. I sketch more rapidly now. Angrily.
"Figured it out have you?" She smiles wickedly. The cat has caught the canary.
"I don't blame you. She's hot. Don't tell her I ever said that, but she is. Quinn's not blind. Why do you put up with it? Listening to them?" She doesn't ask with any disgust in her voice just morbid curiosity.
"It's as close as I will get." Her mouth gapes open at my response. I can't believe I said it out loud either.
"Wow. That's the saddest fucking thing I've ever heard." We're silent as I finish up her sketch and it seems that round three has commenced next door. When I finally put down my pencil Santana stands up. She doesn't put on her clothes she just approaches me in all of her panther like ways and I can see how she so often pulls whomever she wants. We've done that dance though and it didn't suit us. "Want to even the score?" I don't follow her until he jumps onto the bed and starts moaning my name. She's grinning from ear to ear and I smile back. I turn off my stereo and join her on the bed. The both of us jump and shake the headboard while moaning each other's names in tandem. Santana clutches her chest for dramatic effect and says things like "Effy you fucking give me a wettie" and "please, baby, harder". I roll my eyes as she motions with her hands that she wants me to play her skills in bed up too. When Santana counts to three on her fingers we let out a mutual orgasm noise. We flop down on the bed and cover up our laughter as best we can. There is no noise from the room next door.
"Take your clothes off," Santana orders and I comply. We lay next to each other side by side, waiting for the response next door. There is none. "Nice rack, English. A little on the small side, but lick-able for sure."
'Thanks cantaloupe boobs," I say as I lick her cheek in fun. She wipes it in mock disgust. How this one became my friend I'll never know. Finally we hear the door next door open and shut. Rachel yells at Quinn to come back but Barbie has apparently rushed down the stairs. It's then that Rachel enters our bedroom without knocking. Unlike when she barged in on Emily and me, this time she looks fazed to see Santana and I nude. Rachel stands there, dumbstruck and I reach for a fag and light it.
"Yes, Kibbles n Bits? What can we do for you?" Santana piques an eyebrow in interest and I can feel Rachel's gaze on my body. She's never seen it before and takes all of it in. It isn't a look of lust necessarily but it's curious. I'm not sure what it means but I want her to keep looking. When I blow smoke she blinks out of her daze and addresses Santana.
"I was just wondering if you could keep it down next time? It's embarrassing." Is she joking?
"Okay Berry, you and Juno were like amps at a heavy metal concert. We were just returning the favor." Rachel blushes and I honestly think she doesn't realize how loud she and Quinn are. "Besides English and I are way hotter together than you and Tubbers will ever be. Don't get it twisted." I take in Rachel's mussed hair, the bruise on her collarbone that her v-neck shirt fails to cover and her plump lips. She should be mine. I want her.
"What about Emily?" Rachel asks me.
"It's none of your business, Rachel." She looks hurt and I don't care. Things don't fit so perfectly all the time. I wish she would get over her adolescent fantasies and realize that.
"Just curious," she whispers. Oh go tell your wanker girlfriend her pussy tastes like iced tea! Don't look at me like you want to know what is in my head. We've played that game. Nobody won. Santana stands up and grabs her clothes from the floor. She smirks at Rachel in her nude glory and Rachel looks indignant. Santana slowly puts on her clothes, eyeing Rachel the whole time and Rachel grows angrier by the second. I don't know what it means. They have an unusual relationship. When Santana is fully clothed she turns and gives me a wink.
"Thanks for the art session. Let me know when you need me to model again." I nod and she exits the room leaving Rachel and I alone. Rachel rushes to my closet and throws a t-shirt and underwear at me.
"Get dressed."
"It's my room, Rachel. I'll do as I please."
"I can't talk to you naked like that." Her voice is stern and I cover myself with a sheet. She paces back and forth. "Her? You had to sleep with her? I thought you wanted Emily? I thought you would go home and everything would be as it should be!"
"Everything as it should be?"
"Yes, you over there with Emily and me over here with Quinn. That's what our goals were. We achieved them and now you're breaking the rules."
"There are rules?"
"Yes! And why can't you just keep it in your pants for a few more weeks? Is celibacy that difficult a concept for you? Do you have to fuck absolutely everyone but -" She doesn't continue. She stopped her rant just in time. My eyes widen and my cigarette dangles from my lips.
"Everyone but who Rachel?" Just say it. I'm not alone in this am I?
"Nothing. Forget it." I can't forget it. It's all I will be able to think about. I put out my fag on the ashtray next to my bed on the side table. I walk to her, naked and I can see her shoulders shrink, cowering the closer I come. I stand a few inches away from her, smelling sex off of her and the scent of her blonde girlfriend. I hate blonde girlfriends. They get in the way of everything holy. I tuck a strand of Rachel's hair behind her ear and it's then that I know I have her. She trembles. I'm wet at the sight of it.
"Just ask me. I will sing for you. I will eat tofu slop for you. I will paint you, listen to your stupid mix CDS and watch that shit Streisand movie with you on repeat. I won't smoke in bed and I won't do splif anywhere near you and your vocal chords. I will take you with me or follow you wherever you need to go. I will make small talk with your fathers, wear pants like you want me to and never look at anyone else. I will cheer for you, fight for you and keep on living for you. Just ask me." She gasps at this but I don't move a muscle. This has to be her decision.
"Quinn told me that you helped her sort out her feelings for me. Thank you for that."
"Of course."
"I um…you're leaving soon. You must be excited." She's a coward. You didn't expect that.
"You said I could never be a second choice." I didn't believe her then, but it had felt good to hear her say it. She didn't mean it.
"You wouldn't have been if you had let me known. Earlier, I mean." She swallows roughly and I shut my eyes. My mistake. I'm the coward. I should have known sooner like the first day of school when I cleaned her in the bathroom from a slushie. I didn't want to see her. I pretended it was something else the way her hair slipped through my fingers and it felt so good. It wasn't the ice, it was her. I open my eyes again and she wears the saddest smile. She traces my cheek with her finger and it burns. "You're leaving soon. She's waiting for you. She's lucky to have you." I can't help the tears now. God I wish I could keep them in. She's conflicted. She wants to hug me but a hug will lead to other things. I understand.
"Quinn's lucky to have you. Make sure she doesn't forget that." Rachel nods.
"I'm going to go for a drive. Maybe we can watch a movie with my Dad's later?' And that's how we end it. I nod and she exits quickly. I wipe my eyes and cradle myself in the fetal position on the bed. I can't wait to get back to Bristol. Never thought I'd feel that way.