CHAPTER 14: FALLING SHORT

[FALL 2008/SPRING 2009]

"My love is like a castle building in the winter breeze.

It tumbles and it cracks, the water breaching stormy seas."

(Late August)

Quinn sits in the backseat of her Father's Mercury Mountaineer— hands folded in her lap and squeezed tightly together between her thighs. It's Frannie who's seated next to her, thin fingers running through the tendrils of hair falling out of Quinn's messy ponytail with worried delicacy. Russell is in the front seat; his smile is wide as he stares between the road and the rear view mirror – eyes always on Frannie – proud smile and unfamiliar eyes.

"This is it, Francesca. Princeton." He hums. Judy smiles, clearing her throat from the front passenger seat – their mother has tears in her eyes, she hides them from her husband, but Quinn can see the shine against her corneas from the side view mirror. Judy sees Quinn looking and smiles at the reflection, turning away from the curious glare of her youngest daughter. They arrive too quickly to the airport, and before Quinn can process anything, bodies are exiting the car and retrieving luggage. Judy is traveling with Frannie this time – to help her set up her dorm and get acquainted. Their mother fusses over luggage tags and fixing her make-up as Russell carts their bags through the double doors and up to the open ticket counter.

Frannie stands behind. They both do, watching with such identical hazel eyes as their parents forge onward – buzzing with the electricity that such an event requires. Francesca blinks quickly, lips parted as the automatic doors slide closed.

"This isn't goodbye, remember?" Frannie whispers. Her long fingers tug against Quinn's, such familiar pale skin, and yet so different. Quinn neither nods in the negative or the affirmative, and Frannie worries her bottom lip between her teeth – because Quinn's been awfully quiet – too quiet since they returned home a week and a half ago.

"Hey…Quinn, look at me." Frannie begs. Eyes heavy and searching – she wonders if she's making a mistake, leaving like this. It is a question that will eat her up, engulf her within its many possibilities and endless ramifications for years and years to come. But she doesn't know this now. And when Quinn tilts her head, there is nothing behind those eyes – they stare up, unblinking – only mildly dilated in the morning sun. Frannie thinks that perhaps to Quinn, she's already been abandoned.

"I'll call you every day. I won't forget." Quinn shrugs her shoulders, and Frannie has the sudden urge to cry. She thinks that maybe if she lets it happen – she'll shatter right here on the asphalt, staring at her little sister who holds up a mask of indifference so cold, it puts her own Father's to shame.

"Quinn…I'm not leaving you. Or Rachel for that matter." Frannie whispers – her eyes wide. She points to Quinn's chest, just under her right collarbone. "I'll always be here." She mumbles. And then Quinn is sort of laughing, a dry cold thing that bristles her insides and makes the older blonde retract her finger, biting her tongue. The younger blonde takes a step back, her eyes roll upward for a second, scanning the clouds overhead before snapping back to meet Frannie's. They are hollow and cold, and the smile playing on Quinn's lips is a grimace more than anything else. And for the first time, Frannie realizes that perhaps Quinn will break – shatter – and her fall from grace will be treacherous and absolute, and all of it will be of her own blame.

"You're leaving…don't make promises you can't keep, Fran." And then Frannie is shaking her head, and Quinn is grabbing her bags, pulling them through the double doors.

"Mom and Dad are waiting for you." She whispers, and Frannie is sure that Quinn is nothing if not a beautiful disaster waiting to happen. And by the time they're in the air, the older blonde sitting next to her lightly snoring mother – Frannie looks down at the screensaver on her phone – a picture of her and Quinn from their road trip, smiles wide and large sunglasses covering their eyes. And she cries…. all the way to Princeton.

- {||||||||} -

(September)

Interesting. That's what Quinn would say if she were ever questioned about what it's been like, transitioning to William McKinley High School. The hallways stink of mediocrity, and the student body is one to put even Harrison's to shame. The intermixing of the Harrison and Hoover Middle School kids is almost brackish, but when has Lima and it's populace ever instilled a sense of welcoming joy? The only positive thing here is Rachel. They have one class together: Critical Thinking I, the higher-level Freshman English course with Mr. Rickey. They spent most of the weeks leading up to the first day of school together. Inseparable as they sat beneath Rachel's cherry tree, reading Pinewood Bus Notes written to them by suddenly far away friends. They embrace one another on top of soft grass, and kiss one another hidden away behind park slides and benches. They steal kisses behind the local Ice Cream Parlor and dream of one day stealing more. They hold hands at the Ice Skating rink, and they talk endlessly about how McKinley will be better…for the both of them. Rachel, no longer alone – and Quinn on the Cheerios, finally able to protect her. They never voice it out loud, but Quinn knows that Rachel dreams of forever, because Quinn does too.

But then Frannie is gone. And all that is left is a quiet shell – a blonde shadow living alone in a house with two parents who don't care. And not even Rachel is a consolation. Their kisses turn into light touches, and their smiles devolve into hollow reminders of what they used to be. And by the time the first day of school rolls around, Quinn hasn't talked to anyone in at least five days. She doesn't go to Cheerio tryouts and she comes home only to wallow in her room around the poems of Edgar Alan Poe. She's haunting even herself – And so as the blonde walks the buzzing hallways – she wonders what went wrong?

She spots Rachel at a locker – dark hair, dark eyes, plaid skirt and a simple blouse – she would smile, but something about this place has taken the ability away from her. And so instead she waves, a barely there thing without the enthusiasm that she knows Rachel deserves. Rachel smiles back – beaming – all beautiful teeth and knowing, sad eyes – and Quinn almost wants to cry. She doesn't deserve a friend like her. And just as the blonde has the courage to smile back, there is the weight of a body coming up behind her. She turns her head and sees Santana – the darker haired brunette smirks coldly as she passes, a large cup in her hand. And before Quinn can understand what is happening, she hears it. The sound of ice reverberating off of warm metal, the sudden intake of air and the shuddering of a gasp.

"Rachel." Quinn whispers. Her hazel eyes scan upwards, and there she is, covered in red dye number 5 and ice and corn syrup. The slushie creeps down and into her full eyes. Quinn watches it as it trickles down her collar between her breasts, it slides down her legs and puddles around her wet shoes.

"This is my first day." Rachel mutters, her bottom lips trembling. And as time speeds up, Quinn can hear Santana laughing. The entire hallway is laughing, pointing at the dripping girl with a mixture of amusement and pity.

"Welcome to McKinley. That one's for existing, Berry." Santana spits. And then Quinn is turning on her heel. Her hair falls over her shoulders, pinned up with a clip to keep her growing bangs out of her face. She has on a pair of colorful jeans and a blouse, her cardigan and waist belt accentuating perfectly. She looks so calm and feminine; her knuckles even crack with grace as she pulls her fingers taught. It's only Rachel and Santana who recognize the storm brewing beneath the polished surface. Rachel has the mind to reach out a sticky hand, but Quinn moves out of reach, her shoulders set as she rounds on Santana – face showing nothing but indifference. To any one else – Quinn Fabray is not a threat.

"Do it again." Quinn whispers. Voice low, her breath coming through her nose in rapid pants.

"Oh, I didn't know you were so fond of the color red Q, matter of fact…that could easily be arranged." Santana flashes a toothy grin, but her eyes shift as Quinn's feet move closer. The crowd grows exponentially and whispers echo from mouth to mouth like a wave as the electricity within the hallway triples.

"I said…I dare you to do it again." And just like that another one of Santana's friends—Jodie Signet, the failed Cheerio from their eighth grade graduating class at Harrison— is handing over another full cup. Santana takes it, her fingers squeezing tightly against the cold plastic as she squares her shoulders, mouth set in a hard line. If Quinn were anyone else she'd be intimidated by the cold stare, but she knows things about Santana Lopez that the darker haired girl would never care to admit. And so Quinn eyes a cowering Brittany in the far corner, and Santana follows the flicker of a gaze. And with that simple distraction, she steps forward with such speed, that hardly anyone sees her move. And then she's grabbing the Big Gulp, right out of Santana Lopez' hands. All too suddenly…the tables have turned. Quinn tilts the cup just out of Santana's reach, she holds it precariously above the darker girls head, her lips pulled back in a beautiful sneer.

"Pull something like that again, Lopez? And I won't be so nice." Jodie Signet snickers at the threat from over Santana's right shoulder – Quinn has the sudden urge to punch her.

"Don't act like you own this school, Fabray. Ever since your little stint at Harrison you think you're the shit. But I don't see you in a Cheerio uniform and you for damn sure aren't the Head captain. You're just A. Fucking. Freshman." And suddenly Quinn is propelling herself past Santana and pushing the shorter blonde up against a cold locker. Her left hand pins the girl by her shoulder and Jodie Signet grimaces as the back of her head collides none too softly with an empty lock. Quinn looks down at the Big Gulp in her other hand, and before batting an eyelash she watches with cold eyes as the liquid comes pouring down, tangling itself between the tendrils of Jodie Signet's blonde hair.

"Don't ever talk to me like that again, Signet…" Quinn seethes. From over one of her shoulders she can see a raised eyebrow and an enthused grin. Santana Lopez stands with her arms crossed over her chest, evil smile playing on her lips as she stares smugly at the scene. And just as Quinn is about to round on her, the sound of a large body coming through the crowd and parting it like the red sea commands her attention. She turns, eyes looking just over Santana's head, and there is Sue Sylvester – eyes hard and calculating, a whistle tied around her thick neck.

"Fabray." Quinn backs away from Jodie, her eyes finally calming. The blonde girl scrambles away whilst Rachel cowers a few steps away, her clothes and chin still drip with red sticky slushie.

"Coach Sylvester." Quinn sighs.

"Lopez."

"Coach."

The taller woman scans the circle of students, her eyes settle on Rachel Berry, trembling and disgustingly red – Sue scowls in disgust.

"I assume that you carried out what I asked of you L." Sue is addressing Santana but her eyes remain trained on Quinn. The dark brunette nods, smug grin still in place. Quinn stares between the two of them, eyes wide and searching as a flurry of accusations struggle to fall from between her lips.

"You…what?" Is all that Quinn manages before Sue takes a step forward.

"You, vermin…leave." Sylverster mutters as she motions to Jodie. They all watch as the girl scurries away, her shoes squeaking as red slushie runs down her jeans and blouse.

"The rest of you, disperse!" Sue suddenly yells, and then the mass of students part, deserting the hallway in one quick motion. Rachel and Santana move with them but then Sue is pointing at the two of them with a finger, shaking her head and rooting them to the spot. The three remaining girls stare between one another with a mixture of smug, terrified, and confused eyes as the last door of the hallway slams to a close, leaving them in complete silence.

"You must all be wondering what it is that has compelled me to grace you with my presence. I hate freshman…and you three are no exception." Quinn swallows thickly, the taste is bitter in her mouth.

"That girl…the one standing just in between Unkown-Girl-Of-Jewish-Origin of whom I do not care to address for fear of being turned to stone, and Estefan." Both girls turn to look at Quinn with a mixture of offense and curiosity. "Is the reason why this entire tirade had to have taken place. You see…It is my intention that when I select a greasy pre-teen for my Pre-Cheerio squad – I expect for that girl or boy to then try out for my National Squad. So tell me…Quinn, why would said girl then not show up to Cheerio tryouts yesterday afternoon?" Quinn's eybrows furrow, she looks over at Rachel with worried hazel eyes.

"Estefan was there." Sue yells, an accusing finger pointing over at Santana, the darker haired girl flinches involuntarily. "Signet was there, she's worthless obviously, and has no chance in hell of ever making squad, but the Neanderthal showed up! Which is more than what I can say…..for you."

"So I digress. It was me who put Estefan up to the task of Big Gulping your little friend over here. It didn't take long for me to get it out of Salma Hayek that the Medusa over there is the reason why my best Pre-Squader didn't make it to tryouts yesterday."

"You had Santana slushie Rachel just because I didn't go to your stupid tryouts?" Quinn yells. Her voice pierces the air around them and Santana almost recoils. Sue smiles, her teeth devilishly white as she takes a step forward, her eyes piercing.

"Oh no…I had Santana slushie you because I wanted to see what kind of a rise I could get out of you…quiet, demure, hard- working Quinn Fabray. You've got fire behind those eyes…Head Cheerio fire."

"Head Cheerio?" All three girls mutter, dumbfounded. Santana almost looks scandalized, her eyes cutting over to glare daggers at the blonde.

"My Co-Captain from last year McKenzie Ellis was sent to rehab, and as you know Francesca Fabray is no longer with us (damn Princeton). I no longer have a Head Cheerio, and no one else on my squad or otherwise fit the bill except for you Blondie. You showed me today just how ruthless you could be if provoked." Quinn's jaw drops, she looks over at Rachel with wide eyes, and the brunette simply stares back – there's hope beneath that familiar brown gaze, but then Rachel is looking away, biting away at her lip and worrying her hands in the hem of her blouse.

"But she's a fucking freshman…this is fucking stupid." Santana gripes. Sue is frowning now, her eyes staring between Quinn and the Neanderthal.

"You." Sue nods in Rachel's direction.

"If you even remotely looked to have at least one athletic bone in your body I would have maybe assigned you to the role of water caddy, but seeing as you probably couldn't even do that, my need for you here is done. Leave." Sue barks. Rachel nods her head, scurrying away down the empty hallway. Quinn has the mind to stop her, to pull her back and hug her, but by the time she blinks her eyes Rachel is gone.

"And you." Sue looks at Quinn.

"You have 24 hours." And just like that Sue is gone, disappearing down a staircase. Santana and Quinn are left, staring at everything but one another. After a few moments of silence Brittany appears from around a corner. Her feet skipping as she approaches. One of her pinkies interlocks with one of Santana's as the blue eyed blonde smiles happily at Quinn.

"Hi Quinn." Quinn nods, grimacing. She glances down the hallway, her eyes still hoping to catch a glimpse of Rachel.

"Have you been eavesdropping this whole time?" Santana whispers around a smile. The blonde nods.

"I couldn't remember my locker combination and so I just played Doodle Jump on my phone while you guys were talking. " Santana nods, and starts whispering into Brittany's ear. They both giggle while Quinn stands frozen, her hands wrapping around the strap of her backpack that she had forgotten and let fall down to the linoleum floor.

"I...I should go." Quinn mumbles. Brittany and Santana are too engrossed in one another to care, and with a disinterested wave from B, Quinn disappears down the nearest hallway.

- {||||||||} -

It's with calloused palms and tired arms that Quinn manages to climb the trellis scaling Rachel Berry's house. It's her luck that the window is cracked, and with a grunt and push up, Quinn pulls her body upward and through the pane. She falls down to the carpet below with a sigh, and when she looks up – she's left staring at a bright and empty room. She walks around the familiar desk and kicks off her shoes, settling herself in the center of the bed, her legs criss crossed and her chin in her hands. It takes five minutes – and then the doorknob is twisting and a pajama clad Rachel Berry is walking into the room, "goodnights" on her tongue as Quinn assumes she bids her father's a happy sleep. When the brunette turns, she shrieks – her eyes wide – and suddenly – completely indifferent. Quinn watches curiously as Rachel walks around her room readying herself for bed as if the blonde isn't even there. Quinn's shoulders bristle and she bites her bottom lip, her eyes downcast.

"I wanted to say hello." Quinn whispers.

"Hello." Rachel responds. The brunette reaches over Quinn's shoulder to remove the throw pillows from the head of the bed.

"And – to talk. I wanted to talk."

"Oh…so you want to talk now?" The words are said with a biting sarcasm dripping from just below the surface and Quinn flinches, blowing out a breath of air.

"I've missed you." Quinn whispers, her eyes full and her lips red from holding them between her teeth. Rachel stops pulling pillows off of her bed to stare at Quinn – those brown eyes are angry yes…but they're also full of so much more.

"You can't just say that Quinn, not after you ignore for me for almost a week. You ignore me before the biggest day of my life thus far – you know how much I've needed a friend. You of all people should have known better." Those same brown eyes are glossy as Rachel turns around and starts fussing with her hairbrush, pulling it through her hair with short, heavy strokes.

"It's just High School, I thought – you're. I thought you'd be fine."

"Obviously I was not! Granted I was slushied in an all too bizarre attempt to get you to join the Cheerios. But that doesn't change the fact that I've been humiliated all day. If it wasn't the slushie, it was the spitballs in third period Algebra 1, or it was the snickering in the second floor bathroom just before seventh. I ate alone in the Auditorium today because there was no one at the cafeteria willing enough to eat with me. And you're upset? Please, Quinn…spare me." Quinn gulps, she brushes her hair away from her face nervously as Rachel paces in front of her, eyes glossy and red and words angry and accusing.

"And you had some nerve waving to me in the hallway after ignoring me ALL day. If it weren't for my weakness for you in general I would never have smiled in return. I am that upset with you Quinn Fabray. This friendship or relationship or whatever it is doesn't work if I'm the only one who cares!"

"I care." Quinn whispers. The tears that have been threatening to spill ever since Frannie left boil just below the surface, and the blonde sniffles to try to keep them away.

"Then show it!" Rachel yells. She drops her brush to the floor with a soft grunt, before walking towards the bed and almost falling down over the sheets. She crawls for Quinn and clutches to her with warm hands, her eyes shut tight as she lets her nose nestle into the crook of the blonde's neck.

"Stop being stupid." Quinn sniffles and manages a watery nod. She lets her arms encircle Rachel's body as they pull one another close.

"Can I stay?" Quinn whispers. And then Rachel is sitting up so that she can reach over to the wall and hit the light switch. When she settles back on the bed, she pulls back the comforter and sheets and she watches with quiet eyes as Quinn shimmies out of her pants and socks and cardigan, all that's left is a blouse and Wednesday panties as the blonde crawls underneath the bedding. They immediately find one another, arms encircling warm bodies as blonde and brunette hair fans out against the white of the pillows.

"Just…promise not to steal all the blankets." Rachel whispers, her nose in the crook of Quinn's neck again.

"Promise."

- {||||||||} -

They don't fall asleep. They flitter in and out of consciousness, arms wrapped around one another as their voices whisper in the dark.

"Are you gonna do it?" Rachel asks. She's shimmied out of her pajama bottoms throughout the course of the night, and now their legs intertwine, pale and tan connected like a French braid beneath the covers.

"Do what?" Quinn mumbles around a yawn.

"Head Cheerio." Rachel mumbles.

"Maybe." Quinn yawns, her hazel eyes drooping. Rachel squeezes her closer, and presses a lingering kiss to the blonde's parted lips – she lets herself revel in the moment –Somehow sure that if Quinn Fabray becomes a Cheerio…that there'll be less and less of the two of them.

Rachel Berry chooses not to think about it.

It hurts entirely too much.

"'Night 'Licious." Quinn mumbles.

"Goodnight Q-Fab." Rachel whispers.