Author's Note: Thanks for the follows, favorites, and reviews, even the anonymous kind. I love reading everything you people say/think/write about this story. It really drives me to keep writing and posting.
Also, I just realized that the last post was the day before this story's birthday, so Happy Birthday, "How People Start Listening"! If you've followed it from the beginning, you know there were long spaces of time that I didn't post anything because of… I don't know, let's just say reasons. But I'm much better at posting more often now. This chapter also marks 25 chapters for this story. Yay, milestones!
The song at the end is "Cheer Me Up" by Natasha Bedingfield. It's awesome, and you should definitely check it out on YouTube. I'm not even going to try and post the link here. I'm just going to trust you know how to search things on YouTube. You should listen to it beforehand because I interrupt the crap out of some lyrics. Also, when I say Santana is singing it with her, I mean she's doing all the "woah, oh, oh" parts and such. There are a lot of them, but I chose not to write them out because it makes the lyrics look silly.
Oh, also, Charlotte Ross, the woman that plays Judy Fabray on the show was in a show during the early '90s called The Heights. It was about a band. She played guitar and sang backup. They had one hit called "How Do You Talk To An Angel".
So enjoy!
"You know, if you did want to talk about it, I'd be willing to listen."
"I appreciate the offer, mom," Quinn said, stirring the lemon into her ice water. "But, no. It was just a misunderstanding about-"
"The Beatles," Judy finished for her, sounding skeptical. "Right." She paused, appraising her daughter. "I'm surprised at you, Quinnie. You're usually a much better liar than this."
Quinn sighed. "Yes, well, I shouldn't have let Berry start us off. You know how it is. Once someone starts it, you have to stick with it. Isn't that how you and dad taught us?"
"Oh, Quinnie… I thought we were moving past that."
Quinn grimaced, reminded of her therapy sessions with her mother. "You're right," she said, hanging her head. "That was low. I'm sorry. It's just this argument with Berry, you know."
"I do," Judy said. "And speaking of things I thought we were past, I thought you were done calling her 'Berry'? I seem to remember you calling her Rachel just this afternoon. I haven't heard you call her Berry for what? Almost two weeks now?"
"Mom, can we just… not?" Quinn asked, staring down at the tablecloth. "Please?"
When it was clear that Quinn wasn't adding anything else to the conversation, Judy simply sighed and said, "Fine." After a beat, though, she couldn't help offer again, "But if you do find that you want to talk about it…"
"You'll be the first to know," Quinn said. Well… lied, anyway. She'd been doing a lot of that recently. "Thank you," she added, softer and honestly.
Knowing that whatever heart-to-heart they might have had wasn't going to happen, Judy pulled her cell phone from her purse and started going through emails for work. Meanwhile, Quinn sat there in silence, waiting for her friends to get back from the bathroom where they were undoubtedly talking about her. She just prayed that Santana and Brittany would keep her secret in light of tonight.
God, how could this be happening? Rachel couldn't actually like her. Have a crush on her. Want to date her. No. No, this was just some kind of delusion. A dream, a fantasy, a nightmare. Some kind of hallucination. Something other than what it actually was. Please. Rachel couldn't like her. Couldn't be interested in her. Quinn was having enough trouble dealing with the fact that she liked Rachel. Constantly tempted by being around her. Just wanting to hold her or touch her for one second longer. Wanting to taste those lips or… God… other places…
No. No, this wasn't happening. She'd misunderstood Rachel somehow. Rachel had only meant that she… that she… '…an actual 'I want to take you on dates and kiss you and take you to prom because I want to be with you' crush.' Those had been her exact words. Her exact fucking words. FUCK! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! This couldn't be happening. No. No, okay. Just… no. No, because Rachel wasn't even gay or bi or whatever. She'd dated Finn and Puck and Jesse. 'That's two of the same boys you've dated', her inner Santana said. 'And how straight are you, exactly?'
Oh, God.
It was like this was some kind of punishment or something. Maybe she was being punished. Maybe this was hell. And the worst part? Quinn knew she deserved it. If for no other reason than for lying to Rachel after promising to be honest with her. After using that same 'honesty' she'd promised to get Rachel to be honest with her. She was horrible. Scum. Quinn lied about not wanting to kiss her. She lied about not being gay. Worst of all, she lied about the picture. She just didn't know how much it had screwed Rachel up. Afraid to change in her own bedroom? This open-door policy had to be killing her.
Quinn had wanted to come clean right then and there, but the truth of it was, she was afraid. Afraid of losing Rachel. Afraid of Rachel hating her. Or… maybe she was afraid that Rachel would actually forgive her yet again. Quinn didn't deserve forgiveness. Not for this. And now Rachel liked her…
'What's the big fucking deal, bitch?' her inner Santana asked. 'You like her, she likes you, problem solved, right?' But it wasn't 'problem solved'. It was a whole new problem. Quinn couldn't date Rachel. She wasn't even supposed to like Rachel. Everything she knew about church, about her religion, told her that homosexuality was wrong. Everything. There'd been sermons about it. Christians protested it. It was wrong. It was a sin. Then again, so was lying and she was pretty good at that. But that proved it! She felt bad when she lied the same as she felt bad, guilty, for liking Rachel. She just… didn't know how to stop. Especially now, knowing that Rachel liked her back. It would be so easy to fall into the sin.
No. She couldn't. She wouldn't. Quinn had to remain morally strong even when others were tempting her to sin. That's what a good Christian would do, right? It was the reason she wore her necklace every day, to remind herself to be a good Christian. This was her own personal cross to bear. Rachel was her own personal temptation. She would remain strong, though. She wouldn't let Rachel tempt her into sin… no matter how much Quinn wanted her to. She would be strong and help Rachel get better and be Rachel's friend and… and that was it. She couldn't be any more. She wouldn't.
So she would fall back on what she always fell back on when things were difficult. Her religion. Quinn knew that, if nothing else, God loved her for the flawed, sinful person she was. He had helped her so much in the past. He kept her safe throughout the pregnancy. He brought Shelby into her life when she had no plans for adoption. He even helped her save Rachel's life that night by getting her to watch those MySpace videos. God looked after her, and He would help her now, too. He would keep her away from sin and keep her strong in the face of temptation.
Quinn looked up and saw Brittany and Santana walking back from the bathroom, laughing at something, with Rachel following them blushing furiously. "No, Britt. I think it's from all the singing classes," she heard Santana saying as they walked up. "Breath control and all that."
"What are you guys talking about?" Quinn asked staring them down.
"How Rachel can-" Brittany started to say before Santana wrapped a hand over her mouth and finished her sentence with
"-hit those high notes. We were talking about what an amazing singer our little diva is. Very talented." Rachel only blushed harder and looked away.
Looking at the seating, Santana grabbed Brittany's soda and moved to the spot they had talked about Rachel sitting in, beside Quinn. This put Rachel in-between Santana and Brittany… away from Quinn. She knew the hurt had to show in her eyes for a moment because of the look Brittany gave her as she sat down beside her, but Quinn quickly masked it. Another form of lying, another reason she was going to hell. Still, if it made Rachel more comfortable, it was worth it.
Rachel looked at Brittany taking her seat and shot a sad, worried look to Quinn, but it was met with her practiced look of indifference. It was just a seat after all. It really shouldn't matter.
"Yes, speaking of singing," Judy said as they were all seated. "I have to agree with you, Rachel dear, in yours and Quinn's little argument." Three pair of widened eyes shot between Quinn and her mom, but Judy didn't seem to notice. "I'm a bit of a Barbra fan myself."
"Oh," Rachel said, looking relieved before realizing what Judy had said. "Oh! That's good. Great! I've been a fan since my Dad introduced me to the amazing Ms. Streisand in the womb. I know it's popular now for babies to be exposed to Mozart or Beethoven, but Dad wanted me to have exposure to the songs of our people."
"Jewish people?" Judy asked, confused.
"No, show tunes!" Rachel said, drawing a laugh from the rest of the table that she didn't get. Of course she didn't. Rachel was being completely serious.
The conversation went on like that for the next hour and a half, through appetizers, entrees and desserts. Santana and Brittany became bored after about a half hour of Broadway talk, opting to play games on Santana's phone, passing it back and forth between them once Rachel and Santana exchanged seats so Rachel could sit right beside Judy. Quinn was mesmerized, though. It was everything she could have hoped for in a meeting between the two. She was also learning new things about the both of them.
Quinn had never known her mother to be a closet Broadway junkie. She listened with rapt attention as the two aficionados discussed shows. Rachel's favorite, "after Funny Girl of course", turned out to be Wicked with Spring Awakening coming in as a close second. Judy's were some of the classics: Les Misérables, Phantom of the Opera, Hello Dolly. Conversation moved on to musical television: from Saturday Night Live, The Heights, and American Bandstand all the way to the newer shows being thrown around Hollywood like Smash, Nashville, and some dramedy based on a high school Glee Club.
"Oh, if only I was a couple of years older," Rachel said. "I would have loved to be singing on television."
"Not Broadway?" Judy asked.
"Broadway is where I'll be someday," Rachel said. "But television is where the real exposure is. Just imagine: singing new songs, learning new dance routines every week. It sounds exciting."
"I felt that way about The Heights, back in the day," Judy said with a far-off smile. "It wasn't on for long, but there was this young, blonde girl on there who played guitar, and I just thought how fun it would be to do that. How exciting it must be. I even played guitar back then."
"Mom, you play guitar?" Quinn asked, smiling fondly watching these two women interact. "How come I've never seen this?"
"Oh, it's got to be fifteen, twenty years since I last picked one up, sweetie," Judy said, laughing. "I doubt I could remember anything now."
"Still, that's just… wow," Quinn said.
"It is rather impressive, Ms. Fabray," Rachel said, nodding in agreement. "I sometimes wish that I could play an instrument as well. All I have is my voice, spectacular though it may be."
"Don't sell yourself short, dear," Judy said with a laugh. "I heard you sing at your Regionals competition last year, and you were nothing short of amazing. I fully believe if that curly-haired man had put you in the spotlight again this year, you wouldn't have tied for first place at Sectionals."
"Thanks, mom," Quinn said sarcastically about the same time Santana shot out a louder, "Hey!"
"I'm sorry, girls," Judy said, not sounding sorry at all, "but of the five of us sitting here at this table, only two of you have the talent to make a career of it professionally. I've been a fan of Broadway for years. I know future stars when I see them. Rachel, you have the most amazing voice I've had the pleasure of hearing firsthand, and that includes seeing Sarah Brightman perform in Phantom of the Opera the year it opened."
"You saw Ms. Brightman in person?" Rachel asked, fawning over the fact while barely recognizing the compliment. "On stage? In New York?"
"Yes, dear," Judy said, smiling at the girl who was staring so intently at her it was a wonder to Quinn that her mother wasn't terrified by it. "And you're better."
"What?" Rachel asked, backing up. "No. I'm not- I mean, that's just… silly. I… I mean, Ms. Brightman is so- and I'm just- I mean… I'm just…"
Santana reached over and elbowed Rachel in the ribs, getting her to stop talking. "What Berry here means is thank you."
"Yes, yes, of course," Rachel said, shaking her head. "Thank you for your kind words, even if I have to respectfully disagree with them."
"And you're allowed to, dear," Judy said.
"Okay, okay, enough about Berry," Santana said. "She's better than this Brightman chick. Now you said you thought two of us had the talent to make it. So who am I better than? Beyoncé? She was on Broadway right?" When Rachel shook her head at her, Santana said, "Or, okay, she was in that movie, at least. Right?"
"San," Brittany said, putting a hand on Santana's arm to get her attention. "It's your turn to shoot at the pigs again. I missed. And Ms. F. was talking about me."
"What, no, she-" But the look on Judy's face just confirmed the fact.
"I'm sorry, Santana. You have a lovely voice, you do, but you'd be suited for pop music at best, and even that is more about luck and marketing than it is about actual talent. What I saw from Brittany and… what was the boy's name?"
"Mike," Quinn supplied.
"Right. What I saw them do on that stage at Sectionals… it was nothing short of amazing." Judy paused, taking another sip of her coffee. "It was like seeing the future, just knowing that those two had the talent to be professional dancers one day. And as well as the other groups did, not a one could have competed with Rachel vocally. If your club had used her voice with their dancing, it would have been a resounding win rather than a tie."
"Still, thanks for the love, mom," Quinn said, rolling her eyes.
"It's not about love, dear," Judy said. "You'll always have that from me. It's about winning. That's something your cheerleading coach, as… austere… as she may be, understands that your Glee Club director doesn't seem to. You put your best players forward if you want to win. As an example, in cheerleading… you have some girls that are on top of the pyramid and some that are built for the bottom."
"Watch it, Judes," Santana said, pointing a fork at her.
"I'm sorry, mom," Quinn said. "Someone's still a little sore from being put on the bottom of the pyramid for two weeks. Her parents actually did raise her right. Especially her mother." The last words were punctuated with a glare from Quinn, causing Santana to shrink back.
"She's right," Santana said, sheepishly. "I'm sorry Ms. Fabray."
"It's quite alright, dear," Judy said with a smile and a pat on Santana's hand. "No concern. But on that note, why don't we head out and get back home. I believe that you girls have some movies to watch, yes?"
After paying, they all stood, heading for the door, pausing before entering the frigid December night to put their coats back on. At the door, Rachel turned away from Quinn towards Santana and Brittany, and asked, "Would it be okay if I rode back with you two?"
Santana looked at Quinn who again had that hurt look in her eyes, but nodded. "Sure, Berry."
"I'll ride with Quinn so she doesn't get lost," Brittany offered, smiling brightly. "I sometimes get lost without a navigator… or a compass and a map. That's generally on Zelda, though."
"Thanks, Britts," Quinn said, walking out the door and leaving Rachel standing there beside Santana. Everything was so fucked up.
They got back to Quinn's house a little bit later. It wasn't a long drive from the restaurant to her house, but it had finally started to snow while they were in the restaurant so it was a little more treacherous getting there… at least in Rachel's view. Judy, Quinn, and Brittany had beaten Rachel and Santana there, mostly because Rachel kept warning Santana to slow down. Calls of "It's not even coming down that bad" going unheeded in Rachel's fit of highway reproaches.
"Fucking finally," Santana said once they pulled into the driveway. Seeing the look on Rachel's face, she added, "Sorry, Berry, but if you'd said much more I was ready to throw us into a ditch just to shut you up."
"Yes, well, proper driving in hazardous conditions is of vital importance," Rachel countered, getting out of the car.
"This?" Santana held up a hand, motioning to the enormous lawn that was still green with the barest of white as the flakes were mostly melting on contact with the ground. "This is your 'hazardous conditions'?"
"There was no way to tell when it would suddenly turn into a blizzard," Rachel said.
They made their way up the walk and Rachel paused, looking up at the Fabray house. Mansion, some people called it. It was intimidating to say the least with its circular driveway, walkways, marble columns on the front porch, and neatly trimmed hedgerows. It was hard to believe that only Quinn and her mom lived here.
Santana looked over at Rachel, nervously wringing her hands and said, "Welcome to Chez Fabray, Tiny. Don't worry, it's just as imposing and cold on the inside. Least it was last time I was here. That's been a couple of years, though."
"You haven't been here in years?" Rachel asked.
"Not really," Santana said. "Russell was fond of leering when he was drunk, so Quinn cut that shit out before I brained him with a fireplace poker. Haven't been back since Judes kicked him to the curb. Mostly Q hangs with us at ours."
Santana pressed the doorbell, and after a minute Quinn came to the door and let them in. She took their coats and put them on the coatrack in the entry hallway, leading them through that, into the living room. Santana asked where Brittany was and Quinn pointed her to another hallway that led off to the kitchen. Santana headed that way, and suddenly Rachel realized she was alone with Quinn.
Not that that should be a reason for concern. Rachel and Quinn had been alone plenty of times. Tonight, for one. Tonight when she had confessed that she liked Quinn as more than a friend. Tonight when she had admitted to having a crush on her newfound friend. If she actually believed in Hell, Rachel thought that she might be in it right now.
"So…" Quinn said, drawing out the word. "Would you, um… like a tour of the house?"
"Sure," Rachel said politely. "I mean, if that's okay. You don't have to. Or we could wait for Santana and Brittany. You could give us all a tour of the house. Because that would be easier than giving the tour repeatedly to everyone. Actually, yes, we should do that. I'll just go get them." And Rachel nearly ran the way that she had seen Santana go towards the kitchen.
There in the kitchen, she found Santana, Brittany, and Judy fixing decaffeinated cappuccinos, laughing and talking like old friends. As soon as Rachel came into sight, though, all talk stopped. Santana's head perked up. "What's up, Berry?"
"Nothing," she rushed out. "Quinn was just about to give a tour of the house and I came to get you two so we could all go together. I'd hate for you to miss anything. At all. So you two need to be with us. Right now. To make sure you see everything. Not for any other reason." And to pass it off as lighthearted she laughed, but it came out too high pitched even to her own classically trained ears.
Brittany was about to respond, but Santana beat her to it, saying, "No, that's okay, Berry. We've been here before and seen everything. You and Quinn go ahead and do your little tour. Maybe you can discuss- what was it? Beatles versus Barbra? Just no screaming this time, okay?"
Rachel's eyes widened, and she had a pleading, panicked look on her face, but Santana stood her ground. Eventually, she huffed, said, "Fine!", and turned on her heel and marched out of the room.
As she was leaving, Rachel heard Santana saying, "It's amazing, really. Great actress, terrible liar."
Rachel went trudging back to where she'd left, stopping just outside the doorway. She took three big, deep breaths to calm her nerves then put on her show smile. She walked in and said, "They're busy making cappuccinos with your mom and said they'd already seen the house, so I guess that leaves just you and me." And again she laughed nervously.
"Ber… Rachel, we don't have to do this if you don't want," Quinn said. "I'll take you home, give you some space. I can pick you up for school on Tuesday and just leave you alone until then." Quinn paused and looked into Rachel's eyes. "But as far as I'm concerned, nothing's changed. We're friends, same as we were yesterday. All that's different is now I know how you feel, but it doesn't change how I feel about you. I'm still here for you. Just… not in the way you want."
"You can be friends with me even though I have…" Rachel looked around to make sure no one was listening. She'd said she wouldn't tell Quinn's mom, and she wanted to keep her word. "Even though I have a crush on you? Because I don't want it to be weird. I don't want you to distance yourself from me."
Quinn took a step closer towards Rachel, getting in what Dirty Dancing would call her 'dance space'. "Does this look like I'm distancing myself from you?"
"Well, no, but…"
"Rachel, I'm okay with gay people," Quinn said. "I mean, you've seen Brittany and Santana. I've been around your dads. I've never had a problem with Kurt. I'm not going to treat you any differently just because you're choosing to be gay."
"Wait, what? I'm not choosing to be gay," Rachel said, suddenly getting defensive.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to phrase it like that," Quinn said, suddenly stepping back from Rachel's burst of anger. "You could be bisexual. It's your choice."
"No, I don't care about the labels of it. I just- It's not a choice, Quinn," Rachel said, crossing her arms. "It's something you either are or you're not. I didn't choose to be this way."
"No, the choice is in acting on it," Quinn said like she was explaining it to a child. "That's what makes it a sin. It's like murder."
"You're comparing being gay to murder?" Rachel asked, backing up and doing her best to control her voice. "So you're saying my fathers are… what? Some kind of monsters that should be locked away for the way they were born?"
"No, no, I didn't mean… Murder was a bad example," Quinn said, holding up her hands. "Lying. Lying's a better example. It's like lying. You might want to lie because it's easier, but that doesn't make it any less wrong. You feel bad for lying, just like you do for being gay."
"I don't feel bad for liking you, Quinn," Rachel said. "Or, well, I didn't before this conversation. I didn't realize you were so closed-minded."
"I'm not closed-minded," Quinn said. "I've already told you that I'm okay with you being gay or bi or whatever. That's your thing."
"Yes, when you're not comparing me to a murderer," Rachel threw out.
"Bad example, okay. I'm sorry I said that," Quinn said. "How about divorce, huh? The Bible says divorce is wrong, that it's a sin, and yet people get divorced every day. My mom even got divorced, and I'm happy for her. Maybe being gay is like that, where it's one of those sins that people are okay with now."
"Being gay is not a sin," Rachel said. She wanted to shout at Quinn for the second time that night, but she didn't want the discussion to draw Judy's attention. Sighing, she said, "Can we just not discuss it, okay? I don't want to fight with you anymore."
"Fine," Quinn agreed. After a minute of silence, she asked, "Why is everything turning into an argument tonight?"
"Well, it's been a few weeks since we've had one," Rachel said. "I guess maybe my life-altering suicide attempt didn't change my personality that much. You basically hated me for two and a half years before everything happened. It's only natural that we fight."
"I didn't hate you, Rachel," Quinn said. "I just get… annoyed… sometimes. With you. Nothing personal."
"How is that not personal?" Rachel asked, crossing her arms again.
"I don't…" Quinn sighed, and threw her hands out. "So, this is the living room," Quinn said, changing the subject. Thank God. Rachel was getting tired of fighting with her for one night. It was exhausting. She wasn't used to arguing with someone so much after being so withdrawn for the last few months. And it didn't help that Quinn was just amazingly sexy with her cheeks flushed, nostrils flared, pupils dilated. Maybe that's why she'd always challenged the blonde over the years. Just for the chance to see her angry. God, that was just disturbing on a level Rachel didn't want to think about right now.
As they walked through the house, first the downstairs, then the upper floor, Rachel couldn't help but notice how emotionless and sterile the house felt. Without a doubt it was beautifully decorated with the latest fashions, but nothing felt homey. There were no stains or spots or dents that told stories, that showed it was lived in. There weren't even any pictures up of a younger Quinn, only the high school one that she already knew. Rachel couldn't imagine Quinn growing up in this house, but it did make a certain sad kind of sense. It was cold and unfeeling, just like the Ice Quinn that the cheerleader had made herself out to be.
After seeing the house, Quinn and Rachel found their way back down to the kitchen where Judy, Brittany, and Santana were still sitting around an island on barstools, talking, laughing, and trading stories.
"So… so he ran out of the room… mumbling, 'mailman, mailman, mailman' under his breath," Santana said, laughing so hard tears were leaking from her eyes.
Oh, right. Rachel had forgotten that among other things, this would be Finn-bashing central. Between Santana who hated him for whatever reasons, Quinn who hated him for getting her thrown out and then throwing her out, and Judy who probably hated him for singing about her pregnant daughter to her ex-husband and causing him to throw said daughter out… Thank goodness they had broken up or Rachel would never hear the end of it.
"Oh, Lord, are you two gossiping old women telling stories about Finn?" Quinn asked, smiling. "Leave the poor boy alone, okay. He's not that bad." Rachel stared wide-eyed at Quinn who didn't seem to notice as she started to fix her own cappuccino. "These are decaf, right? We have practice tomorrow morning. Can't be up too late."
"They are, Cap," Santana said, wiping her eyes. "And what are you doing defending Hudson? Isn't this the same man-child that got you thrown out of one house then kicked you out of another?"
"He is," Quinn said. "But he also gave me a place to stay when he thought the baby was his. He came and saved us at Sectionals last year. And he stood up for Kurt last year against Azimio and Karofsky."
"But not this year," Santana said. "This year when Kurt needed him most, when he was getting death threats-"
"Death threats?" Judy asked. "Someone you know was getting death threats?"
"Kurt," Brittany said. "The unicorn in Glee Club."
"Unicorn?"
"She means the fancy gay guy," Santana said. "Dresses a little like a woman? Sits a little too tight in the trousers?" Seeing Judy's blank expression, she said, "Doesn't matter. He doesn't go to school with us anymore. Karofsky- Neanderthal meathead football player- scared him off. And fabulous Finn Hudson- his stepbrother, by the way- did nothing to help him when all the other guys in Glee went to scare him off."
"San," Brittany said, reaching out and touching the Latina gently on the shoulder. "No more being mean about Finn, okay? It makes me sad. He's my friend. We have classes together. And, it makes Rachel sad, too."
Everyone looked over to where Rachel stood, arms wrapped around her midsection, listening to them go on about her ex-boyfriend. It was all true. Finn had never been the best, never the nicest guy. Not the smartest nor the bravest. What he had been, though, was Rachel's very first friend. Her first boyfriend. Her first kiss, and her first true love. He was the first boy to break her heart, and the first boy to mend it. No matter what happened, Finn Hudson would always have a special place in her heart.
"Sorry, Berry," Santana said, walking over and handing her the cup of cappuccino she had just made. "Finn's… all right, I guess."
"No, it's fine," Rachel said. "Thanks."
"So, that meal was awesome, Ms. F," Brittany said, thankfully changing the subject. "I haven't eaten there in a couple of years since San likes to go to Breadstix so much."
"I loves me some breadsticks," Santana said, shrugging.
"Brittany's right," Rachel said. "The meal, and the company, was wonderful. If there's some way we could repay you, you must let us know. Maybe my fathers and I could have you and Quinn over for dinner one evening?"
"No, Rachel," Quinn spoke up before her mom could say anything. "You don't have to do anything."
"Well, actually, Quinnie," Judy said, turning to Quinn first before looking back over at Rachel. "I mean, I hate to even ask this, but how often are you going to have a future Broadway star in your house." Rachel's stomach dropped out before Judy's next words could be said, knowing already what they would be. "I would love to hear you sing something."
"Actually, mom… Rachel doesn't really-"
"No, Quinn, it's fine," Rachel lied. For some reason, she just didn't want Quinn defending her right now. Not after their arguments, first over Sam, then over being gay. How could she be blind enough to think it was a choice? And to basically call her fathers, her own mother, sinners? It was just… unbelievable. "I just… I have to warn you- and I apologize in advance, but I haven't practiced in a while so I may be a little rusty. So I'm going to request no show tunes, if that's okay. I'd hate to not be able to do them justice. Other than that, did you have anything in particular that you'd like to hear?"
"Oh!" Santana shot up, digging her phone from her pocket. "I gots that, no worries." Santana flipped through songs in her phone until she found the one she was looking for and held it out to Rachel.
"No."
"What? What do you mean, 'no'?" Santana asked. "It's perfect."
"I just don't think it'd be… appropriate," Rachel said nervously.
Santana looked away from Rachel to the rest of the group and said, "Why don't you lovely ladies get set up in the living room while I discuss song choices with dear Rachel, here, hm?"
"San…" Quinn said lowly, threating the girl.
"No worries, Cap," Santana said, smirking. "It's just a song. Besides, Berry owes me. We just have to discuss some things."
Reluctantly Quinn followed the other two blondes into the living room while Santana and Rachel stayed in the kitchen. Before Santana could start, Rachel said, "Santana… I think after tonight that it's probably not the best idea to try and lyrically force myself on Quinn. I'm already surprised she hasn't started distancing herself from me. I don't want to scare her off any more with inappropriately themed songs. And I know that I owe you for the thing we're not speaking about, but please let it be something else."
"Jesus, you talk too much, Berry," Santana said. "Do you know the song or not?"
"Of course I know it, but-"
"Why do you say it like that?" Santana interrupted, staring at her curiously.
"Like what?" Rachel was suddenly confused.
"You just said 'of course' like it was obvious that you would know it."
"Oh. Did I?" Rachel asked, frowning. Had she said something wrong? She was conceited at times, kind of a showoff, a know-it-all. It was one of the reasons people didn't like her. If she was doing that now, even subconsciously, she needed to put an end to it. She'd tried so hard already to be better for her friends. Less of the Rachel they hated and more someone they could like. "I didn't mean to sound vain. I just happen to like Natasha Bedingfield."
"So that means you know all her songs?" Santana asked.
"All the ones I've listened to, yes," Rachel said.
"So… what? You know all the songs you've listened to?"
"Yes." Why was this so important to the other girl?
"So everything you've heard on the radio?"
"Yes," Rachel said like it was obvious. "How did you think I was able to sing all those songs in Glee without practicing?"
"I don't know. Witchcraft?" Santana threw out. "I guess I never really thought about it. How is that even possible?" Then something seemed to light up in her eyes and she said, "Wait… are you saying you have a photographic memory?"
"It's actually called 'eidetic memory'," Rachel said, "The term 'photographic memory' is something of a misnomer as the mind doesn't really take photographs so much as it…" But she could see Santana was already losing patience with her, so she stopped herself and just said, "Yes."
"Wow…" Santana sat there stunned for a minute until her eyebrows scrunched up. It looked like she had just tasted something bad from her coffee cup. "So every bad thing that people have done to you…"
"It's all there, yes." Rachel said.
"That sucks. I'm sorry, Berry."
"I've already forgiven you."
Santana sat there thinking for a minute, then asked, "So how are you not in the A.P. classes with Q and me and boy Chang?"
"Well, going into high school I knew I would need to go to college, Julliard preferably," Rachel said, "but only as a way to learn more about my craft before I found my way to the stage. I knew I most likely wouldn't finish college before I landed my first starring role, so it was silly to waste time getting college credits. Also, with as much time and effort as I put into other clubs, I thought it would be harder to do so with more schoolwork."
"So the honors classes you're taking aren't difficult for you?"
"Not at all, no."
"Hmm…" Santana sat there, lost in thought before she looked up and saw Rachel watching her. "Okay, let's go."
"No, wait, we haven't actually decided on a song yet," Rachel said, chasing Santana out of the kitchen.
"Yes, we have," Santana said, holding up her cell phone. "You owe me, Berry, and I'm cashing in. Come on, I'll even sing backing for you. Besides, this is perfect for you telling queen bitch out there thanks for helping you be less crazy, which we both know is something you've been wanting in that little pink bedazzled heart of yours to do, right? Go ahead. Tell me I'm wrong."
Rachel stared at her for a long minute while Santana smirked, huffing before walking past her and into the living room where Quinn and Brittany were sitting on a loveseat with Judy sitting in a lone chair. Santana followed her, still with that look of smug superiority on her face, and it infuriated Rachel to no end. There was nothing she could do about it, though. She did owe her, and she'd been wanting to thank Quinn somehow. She didn't want to do it through song as she still had no desire to sing, and she definitely didn't intend on doing it tonight, but it looked like it didn't matter what she wanted.
"I apologize for my friend's song choice, though it actually is a good song. It's apparently," Rachel paused, shooting Santana the nastiest glare she had which only caused the Latina to laugh, "the best song for me to say thank you to Quinn. It's a little more… um… romantic… than I would have chosen, but the meaning behind the song is true enough."
"Sorry I don't have just the backing track, Berry," Santana said, hitting some buttons on her phone. "You'll just have to sing along with Natasha."
Santana hit play on her phone and as the intro played, started humming along. Rachel looked over at Quinn hoping she didn't know the song, or maybe hoping she did, she wasn't sure. Mostly she was hoping Quinn wouldn't be offended, wouldn't be angry at Rachel.
"You get me out of my seat
It's like I've been in bed for a week
I've been slipping and sliding all over the place
And nobody cares, and I'm such a disgrace
You get me out of my mood
That's something only you can do
'Cause I feel like I'm home when I'm in your arms
That's why I need you to…"
As Rachel and Santana moved around, starting to have fun with the song, Santana rushed over, reaching out and grabbing the other two girls from the loveseat and pulling them up to dance with them. Just as Rachel started singing the chorus, Santana moved around, pushing Quinn into her so that they were suddenly dancing together.
"Cheer me up, come and dance with me
And you take my hand
Cheer me up
Even if we're the only ones dancing
Cheer me up
Please won't you cheer me up
Even if we're the only ones dancing"
Rachel looked over and saw Santana and Brittany dancing together, hands on hips and swaying close together as Rachel and Santana sang this song to the five of them. Quinn's eyes seemed to follow her over and she waged some kind of internal war with herself for a second before reaching out and pulling Rachel closer into her.
"Give me a reason to smile
The kind that will last for a while
Like only you know how, make it okay now
You got your ways how to make this girl's day
It's the magic that's in your touch
It makes everything mean so much
The poetry in your eyes
Is enough in itself to take me to a high
You take me to a high
You've got to cheer me up"
Rachel and Quinn were both smiling as they danced together beside Santana and Brittany. It was okay. Friends could dance together. They were all friends. Or… no, maybe Brittany had been right. They said she usually was. And if so, then they were more than friends. Sisters. And this was going to be okay for all of them.
"Cheer me up, come and dance with me
And you take my hand
Cheer me up
Even if we're the only ones dancing
Cheer me up
I love it when you cheer me up
Even if we're the only ones dancing"
As Rachel got to this part she pulled back from Quinn, looking in her eyes. She needed to make sure that the blonde there with her understood that she was serious even as they were joking. That she did cheer her up, did make everything better.
"You turn my frown upside down
My smile's lost and found
When you are around
You cheer me up
You turn my frown upside down
My smile's lost and found
When you are around"
Quinn gave her a smile, not the fun loving kind she threw over at her mom or Santana and Brittany as they were dancing. It was something reserved just for Rachel. Like she did really understand.
"Cheer me up, come and dance with me
And you take my hand
Cheer me up
Even if we're the only ones dancing
Cheer me up
I love it when you cheer me up
Even if we're the only ones dancing"
Sure, it was more romantic of a song than Rachel had wanted to sing to her, but it was the right message, the right idea. She meant it. And this was fun, singing with the four of them. It wasn't the feeling of being on stage in front of an adoring audience like she'd had at Sectionals and Regionals last year. It was something more. Something better, maybe. This group of friends, just having fun.
"Only you got the magic
Only you got the key
To my heart
To my heart
Only you got the magic
Only you got the way
To my heart"
She was still quitting Glee Club. She still needed the distance from those people that had let her down, but… right now, Rachel was pretty sure it wouldn't be permanent. She knew she'd probably find her way back before she was done with high school. Right now, though, she had these three other girls, and that was really all she needed.
"I've been last in lines forever, I want a part of it
Even just a little bit
Happiness can last forever, I want a part of it
Even just a little bit"
"Cheer Me Up" by Natasha Bedingfield