Author's Note: First off, apologies for how long this took to get out. I hope the length help makes up for it. I'm finally feeling better. The cold's been gone, but I have a sinus infection now that's causing a persistent cough and dizziness… in case you were curious for some reason. Which you're probably not. I should shut up now about that. Anyway, basically I haven't felt like writing because of all that, but I'm getting better so I feel more like writing now. Thus, this chapter FINALLY being finished. Yay!
Secondly, I'm getting near 300k words and there's still no (romantic) Faberry. It's like I'm going for some kind of record or something. I'm thankful that you're still sticking with this, really, and I hope that everyone gets that this IS a Faberry story. To me, Faberry is about more than dates and making out and sex. It's about the girls just liking each other. Like, genuinely liking each other as people. I'm honestly not knocking anyone else's work here, but to go from enemies to lovers (in my opinion, which is all this ever is) SHOULD take some time. Not just "Oh, yeah, btw, I've always liked you." This story is as much about Quinn dealing with her self-hatred and gay panics and Rachel dealing with her suicide attempt and depression as it is about them getting together. Have no fear, though. I promise, the Faberry is coming. I have it planned out.
So as always, thanks for reading. Thank you for any and all well wishes I've gotten, all your favorites, follows, and reviews. They mean the world to me and are honestly the reason I keep writing. Writers need love like flowers need sun and water. And that isn't just for me. If you enjoy this or any story, let the author know. Even if the story is old and you probably think they don't care anymore. They do. It's just the best feeling.
So thank you. I hope you enjoy it…
PS. I read through it once top to bottom to edit it, but not the second time like usual. Any and all mistakes are my bad.
Rachel stormed into the choir room Monday morning before school, interrupting Mr. Schuester's lesson and marching over to him as he stood lecturing by the piano. "Rachel, not that it isn't always a pleasure to-"
"Stay out of my life!" she yelled at him, finger in his face. She had such a strong desire to slap him right then but decided he wasn't worth getting suspended or expelled. She had wrestled with that decision on the ride to school that morning. Rachel had talked Hiram into taking her earlier than usual so she could 'spend time with Christy' since they hardly saw each other during the school day. If he had any doubts about the lie he thankfully kept them to himself.
"Rachel," Mr. Schuester said, taking a step back. "What are you talking about?"
From the corner of her eye she saw Quinn start to stand, knowing she was going to come over and try to calm her. Thankfully Santana put a hand on her shoulder, keeping her in place for the moment. Rachel loved the Latina a little bit for that. Not that she wasn't thankful for Quinn's care for her, but she felt like she really needed to get this out.
"I talked to Shelby yesterday," Rachel said, voice louder than it needed to be, but she didn't care. So what if her voice travelled when she was angry. Let everyone hear this. "She told me what happened last year."
"Rachel, I understand you're upset," Mr. Schuester said, holding up his hands in surrender to try and placate her anger, "but I had no idea she was your mother when I kissed her."
Rachel physically recoiled at his words, and she looked out across the rest of the Glee club as she attempted to process this. There was a mixture of confusion, disgust, and apathy among most of them. Santana and Brittany were concerned, though likewise confused. Quinn looked just as disgusted as Rachel felt, and Noah… okay, Rachel was going to kill Noah. He was actually smirking like he was proud of Mr. Schuester.
"Oh, God," she muttered, turning back to the 'teacher' in front of her. "That's not even- How could you even- How could she lower herself to- That's just so completely- ugh!" Rachel shivered, skin crawling.
"That's… not what you were talking about," Mr. Schuester said sheepishly.
"No." Rachel crossed her arms over her chest to stare him down. She suddenly regretted wearing such a short skirt. If he was turned on by her mom, and if Rachel and Shelby looked so much alike then… okay, just gross. What the hell was she thinking last year when she had a crush on this man? "I was talking about how you radically invaded my personal life with your idiotic attempts at 'helping'," she made air quotes before crossing her arms again, "me."
"I was trying to help you," Mr. Schuester defended.
"By convincing my mother she didn't want me?" Rachel asked incredulously.
"What?" The sound of Quinn's ice-cold, angry voice punctured the room. Everyone else was suddenly on edge, sitting up a little straighter, and even Santana removed her hand from where she had been trying to keep Quinn from getting involved.
Rachel turned to Quinn, saw the look on her face, and was suddenly thankful she and Quinn were friends now. She forgot how scary Quinn could be when she was that angry, and Rachel was glad that the look wasn't pointed at her right now.
"Right, I'm sorry, not everyone knows what's going on," Rachel said.
Mr. Schuester looked suddenly nervous, a combination of Quinn's glare and Rachel about to tell what had happened. "Rachel, I think we should consider continuing this conversation in private."
"Why? So you can try to convince me that you did this for my benefit?" Rachel asked. "No. Let them hear what you did for our little Glee club."
"I don't think-" Mr. Schuester started before Rachel overrode him.
"Apparently," Rachel said, glaring at Mr. Schuester one last time before she turned to face Quinn and the rest of the Glee club, "after Shelby came back into my life last year right before Regionals, Mr. Schuester took it upon himself to have a conversation with her during which he questioned her motives for coming back into my life and whether she really wanted to have a teenage daughter in the first place. He called me… what was it?" she asked, turning back to him. "'Fragile and overemotional'? And convinced that I was more into the reunion than she was?"
"You were," Mr. Schuester said, trying to defend himself. "And Shelby told me she thought you were an adult that didn't need her." He took a step toward her, pleading with her to understand. "I was trying to help you."
"I don't need your help!" Rachel shouted at him. "What I needed was a mom! But you convinced her that she didn't really want me."
Mr. Schuester looked hesitant, but still said, "If that's something I could convince her of, maybe it's not what she wanted in the first place. And a mother who's not really there for you isn't what you needed, either."
"Who are you to decide that?" Rachel yelled. "What gives you the right?"
"I'm an adult who cares about you," Mr. Schuester said simply like that explained everything. "Like I do all my students."
Rachel took a couple of deep breaths to keep from hitting him because she really, really wanted to. "Look, I get that some people in here need a father figure," she said, eyes darting to the rest of the Glee club before finding Mr. Schuester again. "I'm not one of them. I have two already. What I needed- what I need- is a mother. And, no. Shelby's not perfect. She may not have been ready to be what I needed her to be, but that wasn't for you to decide. Personal decisions about my life are never going to be for you to decide."
Rachel turned to storm out, getting near the door only to be stopped by Mr. Schuester saying, "Rachel, I really am sorry. I overstepped my bounds, and I shouldn't have gone behind your back and talked to Shelby. I really was just trying to do what was best for you, though."
She loved this room. That's what Rachel thought as she paused for dramatic effect before turning back to Mr. Schuester. Despite the fact that so few people had ever truly wanted her there, it had felt like home. Like her little safe haven. Some might have guessed the auditorium, but no. It was here. She loved everything about it. Mr. Brad's piano. The plaque of Lilian Adler. The risers with their uncomfortable chairs. The space between the risers and the piano where she got to sing to the Glee club. Especially that space. Singing for Beth had shown her that she missed performing terribly. She hated that she no longer got to sing weekly for these people, but she was doing what was necessary for her mental health. And that was a noble goal, too.
As she turned to face Mr. Schuester, she took stock of the Glee club members watching their confrontation. Rachel's eyes fell to Quinn first, as always. Even when dating Finn, Quinn had always been first. She thought then it was because the blonde head Cheerio was so often angry with her that it was a priority to see what her mood was. Now, Rachel was reevaluating all her interactions with her. Quinn had been her first high school crush, and that yearning- to be near, to be friends with, to include in Glee club- it had never really left her. It had only morphed and changed as it needed to over the last couple of years.
Beside Quinn was Sam, ever faithful Sam. Why did Quinn even like him? She treated him more like a pet than a boyfriend. Or an accessory. Something she used to brighten her persona, to make her more popular. Did she even love him? Rachel had assumed she did, but it never really seemed like it.
On Quinn's other side was Santana. Brittany and Artie sat next to each other in front of them. Back in the back, Noah sat next to Lauren. Finn was by himself in the back. In the middle, Mercedes sat next to Tina who leaned against Michael. This was her team. These were her New Directions. She missed them, missed being a part of them. Rachel knew she would come back eventually, but it still hurt not being a part of them right now.
"The funny part is," Rachel said sadly, anger gone as she turned back to face Mr. Schuester, "I believe you. I honestly believe you think you were doing what was best for me. It's just a shame that you failed to ask me what I wanted considering it was my mother you were talking to." Suddenly a laugh escaped Rachel before she could stop it. "You know, all those times I swore you were trying to ruin my life, I really was just being overdramatic. I never honestly thought it would actually happen."
And with those parting words, Rachel finally did leave the choir room. It wasn't a storm out after all. It was so much more heartbreaking than that.
Quinn didn't even try to explain herself as she walked out of the classroom to follow after Rachel. She needed to make sure she was okay.
"Mr. Schue, dude." Puck was surprisingly the first to speak up after that. "Way not cool. Sure, Shelby's a major milf and all, and we totally get why you'd be all over that, but the part about telling her she didn't want Rachel? That's pretty messed up." Then he, too, stood and walked out. How could he not after what Rachel did for him and Quinn yesterday.
Santana looked towards the door, towards Mr. Schuester, and then started muttering curses at him in Spanish as she grabbed her bags and walked out. She knew he wouldn't understand them anyway.
Brittany turned to look at Artie and said, "I totes get if you want to stay and stuff, but Rachie's my sister and I have to go make sure she's okay. Unholy Square for life." She made a square- well, a rectangle at least- by using the thumb and forefinger of each hand, left hand upside-down on top of her right. "It's our new gang sign I'm working on. What do you think?"
"I think it might need work, boo," Artie said.
"Yeah, that's what I told Lord Tubbington." And Brittany walked out, too.
Artie stared after the tall blonde, eternally grateful that she loved him. He also knew their relationship had a time limit. He wasn't stupid. He saw how Brittany and Santana were together. Like soul mates, he thought at times when he was foolish enough to believe in such a thing. And maybe it was shallow that he was just enjoying the perks of being with her while he could, but she was the first person to ever look at him and not see the chair. Brittany just saw him. And he loved her for it. He always would.
"Sorry, Mr. Schue," Artie said, wheeling himself towards the door.
"Yeah, uh, I should go, too," Sam said, grabbing Quinn's books along with his own and heading for the door. She would probably want those later.
Mike, surprising Tina and Mercedes, also stood.
"Mike?"
"Sorry, Tina," he said, getting his things together. "Rachel's been really cool these past few weeks. We're homeroom buddies. Her words, not mine. And she, Quinn, and Santana are my study group for my A.P. classes."
Tina stared at him. "So when you said you had to go to study group, it's been with two of the hottest girls in this school?"
"Hey, Rachel's hot, too," Mike said about a split-second before he realized that was definitely the wrong thing to say. He couldn't help defending her, though. Mike had had a crush on Rachel since freshman year. That was the reason he and Matt had gone along with Brittany's idea of putting anonymous valentines in her locker. It wasn't cool to like her back then- it still wasn't, but he found himself not caring as much anymore- but he still had. And getting to know her in homeroom for the past couple of weeks had been fun. She was actually funny and really nice away from Glee. "Sorry."
And Mike walked out the door, too.
Tina just stared after him, confused and a little angry. Turning to Mercedes, she said, "Oh, this is so not over," and followed him out of there like she wanted to argue with him some more.
Lauren, who didn't really care about Glee beyond kind of wanting to hook up with Puckerman once before they graduated, said, "So… I guess practice is cancelled?" When no one said anything, she got her books and followed everyone else out the door.
Mercedes likewise grabbed her books and said, "Yeah, I'ma just go and…" and followed everyone out, too.
Finn looked up, realizing it was just him and Mr. Schue. Since Rachel had told them all about what happened last year, he had been staring down at the floor, thinking. Remembering, too. Like, he remembered last year when Rachel had been upset about meeting Shelby, but everything had happened kind of like all at once. Shelby had come back into her life and then Jesse dumped her and egged her and then they found out Sue was going to be a judge at Regionals and she was all sad and then they had actually lost Regionals… He remembered she had done a lot of crying during those few weeks, but he never really thought about why. Not about her mom and stuff, anyways.
Finn knew what it was like to not have a parent. Rachel had two dads, but she didn't have a mom. That had to suck growing up. He tried to imagine what it would be like having his dad suddenly show up and then having Mr. Schue tell him that he shouldn't want Finn as a son.
"Mr. Schue," Finn said, standing from the back. He made sure to grab his books so he wouldn't forget them again. "We said at the beginning of this year that we were like a family. And that family's gotten bigger with Sam and Lauren. But Glee isn't our only family. I'm sorry yours kinda exploded and you don't have anybody right now, but messing with our real families to protect this Glee one is really messed up. What happens between Rachel and her mom is their business. Not ours, and not yours. That was really wrong."
And Finn left, too, leaving Mr. Schuester there. He sat down hard at the empty piano bench and put his head in his hands. He really had been trying to do the right thing for someone he cared about. Rachel was special, and he never wanted to see her hurt. But she was right. Shelby was her mother. He had no business getting involved. He'd hurt her just like so many others had in her life. And now it had hurt the rest of his Glee club, too.
"Rachel, wait!" Quinn said as she ran down the hall to catch up with the shorter girl. God, how did she move so fast for someone so short? It had to be those fucking legs. They were like some eighth wonder of the world or something.
"Quinn?" Rachel asked, spinning to face her, looking startled. "What are you doing?"
"What am I doing?" Quinn stared at the girl. Except for Quinn's sudden appearance, she seemed… okay? "You interrupted Glee so you could scream at Mr. Schuester for getting involved in your life. And for a second there I thought you were really going to slap him like you would Finn or something."
"Yes, I thought about it." Rachel sighed. "I suppose that was a little dramatic, even for me."
"You think?" Quinn asked. She couldn't help but be a little happy, though. When she rushed out of the choir room, she had assumed it would be for damage control like every other time the brunette had gone through something stressful since her attempt. Quinn had already been preparing herself for tears and a pill. Instead, Rachel seemed relaxed, and she found herself beaming at the girl with pride. "Rachel Berry at school yelling at a teacher, and without a single tear. Look how far my little diva's come."
Rachel shrugged like it was no big deal. "I was angry, but it wasn't 'breakdown' angry. I think it was just the regular kind of angry. No pills needed."
Quinn smile had to double in size at that. She probably looked ridiculous, but she didn't care. She just reached out and hugged Rachel tightly. "I'm so proud of you."
"For yelling at Mr. Schuester?"
"Well, yeah," Quinn said, pulling back. "But also for not going too far when you did. I mean, just yesterday you were sobbing and screaming at Shelby. Today could have turned out to be just like that."
"I guess…" Rachel bit her lip as she thought about it for a moment. "I guess he just wasn't important enough for that. My friends, my family… they're worth 'going off the deep end', so to speak. But a random teacher in high school who I clearly don't mean enough to for him to respect my private life… why should he matter to me? I think I needed to yell at him this morning to tell him- and myself- that."
"And that's why I'm proud of you, Rach." Quinn said, hugging her again. After a minute, she asked, "God, can you imagine if you told little miss perfect, always-follow-the-rules, freshman-Rachel she'd be doing that in just a couple of years?"
"I'm sure she'd be just as appreciative of it as I'm feeling," Rachel said, grinning as they pulled away from the hug. "Then again, if you told her she'd be hanging out with the three most popular girls in school and dating a Cheerio, she would have laughed in your face." Then a thought occurred to her, causing her to smile even harder. "And when did I become your little diva?"
"What?" Quinn asked, taken aback. God, she had actually said that, hadn't she? She really needed to get a handle on this Rachel thing. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Berry."
"Sure you don't, Fabray," Rachel said, smirking. And she needed to make sure Rachel stopped hanging around Santana and Puck. That smirk was getting annoying. Though it was kind of cute on her…
Thankfully Puck walked up about that time. "So that was pretty badass, Berry," he said, playfully smacking Rachel lightly on the shoulder. "Embarrassing Schuester in front of the Glee club like that? Mad props."
"Thank you, Noah," Rachel said. "But I didn't do it to be a 'badass' as you say. I just needed to get it off my chest, and- can you please not look at my chest just because I say the word?!" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. Suddenly she reached out and slapped Puck really hard on the upper arm with her good hand.
"Ow, Berry! What the-"
"And don't think I didn't notice that look you gave Mr. Schuester when he said he'd kissed Shelby!" Rachel scolded him, shaking her finger in his face like she'd done Mr. Schue.
"Not that I'm not always down for smacking Puck around," Santana said, walking up, "but what's with all the physical abuse, Shortstack?"
"Because I couldn't help but notice how he inappropriately liked the idea of Mr. Schuester making out with Shelby," Rachel explained. "Which is gross seeing as how she's his biological child's adoptive mother."
"Right, right," Santana said, nodding and casually smacking Puck in the back of the head. He grabbed his head and glared at her, but she ignored him. "That was yesterday. And how did the mother-daughter-other mother-other daughter-idiot Puck meet up go?"
"Great actually," Rachel said. "As it turns out, Shelby and I have a lot in common. She's a bit of a diva, also-"
"Surprise, surprise," Santana commented.
"-and explained why she was hesitant in restarting a relationship with me last year," Rachel said, ignoring Santana's comment. "I didn't forgive her, but we did promise to try with each other at least. It's not the perfect mother-daughter bond I've always been looking for, but at least it's a promising start and that's something."
"Good for you, Berry," Santana said, and they could tell she actually meant it.
"What's good for you, Rachie?" Brittany asked walking up.
"My trying to form a tentative bond with Shelby," Rachel explained, turning to the newest arrival.
"Are you two going camping?"
"No…," Rachel said slowly, trying to figure out where that came from. Once she figured it out, she said, "Oh, no, Birdy. Tentative means hesitant. Like, we're taking it slow."
"Oh, cool," Brittany said. "That's good."
The other three looked confused by Rachel's nickname for her. Santana even turned to Quinn and mouthed the word, 'Birdy?' Quinn only gave a small shrug. She didn't know anything about it either. It was fine, though. Rachel and Brittany were developing this whole other relationship that Quinn and Santana didn't really know much about. Over the past couple of weeks they'd talked about time spent at each other's houses and how Rachel was tutoring her in her different subjects. Rachel had even come to the football game on Friday with Brittany's family. If Quinn wasn't sure Rachel was trying to get Santana and Brittany back together, she might think the girl was serious about marrying the tall blonde.
"And you're okay?" Brittany asked Rachel, reaching out and catching her hand.
Rachel smiled. "I'm actually fine, Birdy. Really."
"I thought Ashley was the only one that called you that?" Artie asked, rolling up.
"And Rachel now," Brittany said. "She's family. It's a thing."
"Cool, cool."
The group continued that way, and after another minute, Sam showed up, tapping Quinn on the arm to get her attention. "Hey," he said. "I brought your books. I figured you'd want them."
"Thank you," she said, smiling politely at him.
And 'politely'? When had she started treating him 'politely'? She'd never really felt any passion for him, not like she knew she should, but Quinn had always managed to fake it before. Now she couldn't even seem to do that. She still allowed him to take her on dates and they had made out a time or two, but it felt like they were drifting apart. She just… didn't want him around anymore. Quinn knew the pretty, popular boy would help her keep her popularity and help her win prom queen, but it all really just sounded kind of exhausting to even think about right now. Sam was a good guy, interesting and sweet, and she could see him being a good friend, but… she didn't love him. She wasn't even really attracted to him. God, it was all so fucked up. This was what she was supposed to want, right? The popularity, the prom queen crown, the football playing boyfriend. It's what her mom and sister had both had. But… if she didn't want that, what did she want?
Rachel reached over and touched Quinn's arm, bringing her back to reality. "You okay?"
During her little internal monologue, the rest of the New Directions had shown up and were basically hanging out in the middle of the hallway where Quinn had stopped Rachel since they had another twenty minutes before homeroom. "I'm okay," Quinn said, shaking her head to clear the thoughts from it. She smiled at Rachel. "Are you?"
Rachel took in the scene before her, the entire Glee club that had walked out of a meeting just because of her. And she wasn't even part of the group anymore. "They all left because of me."
"Of course we did," Mike said, moving forward from where Tina had been talking to him- at him, whatever- since she had caught up to the group. "You may not be in Glee club right now, but you're still our Captain."
"Co-captain," Finn said.
"Get real, man," Puck shot back, as irritated with the taller boy as Quinn felt. It shouldn't have taken him so long to walk out of class. He was her ex-boyfriend and her 'first real friend' according to Rachel. Finn should have been leading the march out instead of Puck. Well, technically Quinn led it, but she didn't really count herself. Quinn would have left a meeting with the Pope to make sure Rachel was okay. Plus, that idiot rumor that Rachel was letting him spread around had her constantly angry at the boy. "You couldn't lead this group to the cafeteria at lunch time. Berry could annoy us into anything she wanted."
"Thank you, Noah, Mike," Rachel said. "But no one had to leave because of me. I mean, I should have expected Quinn to. And I'm sure Santana and Brittany would be worried about me. And Michael and Noah I never really thought about, but I'm not surprised. Thank you. And Finn?" Rachel just shrugged because she clearly didn't even know what to say about him. "But Tina, Mercedes, Artie, Sam, Lauren… I know none of you like me. I would never expect you to leave a Glee meeting for me."
"That's not true," Tina said, but she couldn't seem to do it convincingly and turned to the others she had mentioned.
"It's not that we don't like you," Mercedes said. "We just, y'know… everyone insults everyone else in here. It's part of what we do."
"I don't," Rachel said quietly. When more than a few people scoffed, she defended herself, saying to no one person in particular, "When I've said in the past that you could use practice or that you weren't as talented as I am, I meant that honestly. That's not an insult. I am more talented than the rest of you. I've taken singing lessons since I was able to talk, dancing lessons since I knew what dancing was. I've taken acting classes since seeing my first musical and realizing what I wanted to do with my life. Not one of you have put that much effort into any of it, besides maybe Brittany and Michael." Looking between the two of them, she added, "I'm sorry. I don't know whether you've taken lessons or not, but you're both very good dancers."
"Nope, I'm all natural," Brittany said.
"I've taken karate and taekwondo, but never dance lessons," Mike said.
"Oh," Rachel said a little dejectedly, frowning and wishing she was that naturally good if Quinn had to guess. "Well, anyway, besides them, I'm one of the best dancers in Glee and the best singer because I've put in the time and effort. So when I say I'm the best, I'm not insulting any one of you. It's just the truth. Maybe I'm too blunt, but it is what it is. But I would never make fun of any of you the way you have me. Like the variety of ways you've mocked my stature or my nose or how grating you find my personality to be. I would never ridicule Mercedes for being overweight or Santana for being Latina or Lauren for wearing glasses."
"Because I'd stomp you," Lauren said.
"Well, yes, that too," Rachel said, barely breaking stride. Turning back to the rest of the Glee club, she continued, getting angrier as she talked. "So excuse me for not having as thick of skin as the rest of you and joining in your insult competitions. Maybe because I and my parents- two gay men, one black and one Jewish- have gotten it all my life. I guess I thought that Glee should have been a safe place. Not just for me, but for all of us. We all know the rest of this school isn't. So I appreciate this act of camaraderie that all of you attempted on my behalf, but please know that it was completely unnecessary. I'm not your comrade. I'm not even sure I ever was."
"Rachel," Quinn started. She was surprised by that sudden outburst and tried comforting her, putting a hand on her upper arm that the shorter girl just shrugged off.
"No, Quinn," she said, livid from her rant. "This includes you, too. Yes, I've forgiven you for all of that, but right now I'm just not in the mood to be reminded that I ever needed to. Words hurt. It's strange that as near adults you people still need to be reminded of this lesson."
Rachel started to storm off, but Brittany caught her hand. "I never made fun of you, Rachie."
This, more than anything, stopped Rachel and Quinn could tell from the slump of her shoulders that she was suddenly remorseful for that outburst. At least where Brittany was concerned. Turning only to Brittany, she said, "I know, Birdy. I didn't mean you. I'm sorry if you thought I did."
"It's okay," Brittany answered back with a sad smile. "Let's go see if Christy's here, okay?" And hand in hand they walked off together, leaving the Glee club behind.
By Thursday, Rachel was back to her… well, not her "normal" self, but back to her post-suicide-attempt normal. It could have had something to do with Quinn and Santana seeking out the other members of the Glee club and "convincing" them that it would be in their best interest to apologize to Rachel for past misgivings. After her outburst in the hallway, it was considerably easier than Quinn had suspected it would be. The fact that both Quinn and Santana admitted to doing the same since they'd become friends helped, as well as telling them that the only way Rachel would ever return to Glee- "and face it, we can't win Regionals without her"- was to apologize sincerely.
According to Brittany- who apparently Rachel told this to since she was the only one that had never made fun of her- Mike had apologized that same morning in homeroom. Quinn and Santana both apologized again once they were in their first shared class because neither girl could stand the thought of Rachel being mad at them. Even though Rachel assured them it was completely unnecessary, she did seem happier afterwards. Sam found her later that day between classes and apologized even though he couldn't think of anything he had actually said to her. "Neither could Rachel," Brittany had told Quinn that night on the phone.
It wasn't until Tuesday that Finn took her to the side for a few minutes during lunch and apologized before going back to sit with Missy. His apology had Rachel in tears because he had given it a lot of thought the night before, especially after talking to Kurt and Missy, and felt he needed to apologize for "everything". For being a bad boyfriend, for not sticking up for her more often, for accidentally insulting her by calling her "crazy" or "controlling". He apologized for blowing her off for Brittany and Santana last year. He apologized for trying so hard to get her back and disrupting her relationship with Jesse "even though he was a complete douche" (which caused her to giggle through her tears). He even apologized for the small things like yelling at her for how she dressed during her short-lived Britney phase or for kissing her in the auditorium while dating Quinn (which didn't actually affect Rachel but did turn her into "the other woman"). When he was done she hugged him, he walked away, and she knew it was over between them.
Unlike Quinn and Rachel, Missy was actually getting through to Finn about how to be a better boyfriend and a better person. Quinn wanted to laugh at that last part… though was it so crazy that a bully could turn out to be a decent person sometimes? She had only herself to look at and hope that was the case. Missy wasn't bad, she was just overshadowed by her sister, and Quinn could relate to that completely. Now that Christy was dating Rachel (a significant downturn in her own popularity) and Missy was dating Finn the quarterback (an upturn in hers), Missy didn't seem as overshadowed as before. She seemed genuinely happy for once. Brittany also shared with Quinn that Missy wasn't even bullying people anymore. Maybe Finn was good for her, too.
Wednesday found Artie and Tina both catching up to Rachel, Quinn, and Santana at random points throughout the day and apologizing. Mercedes did likewise at lunch, but it was backhanded and she couldn't "see what the big deal is". Santana went off on her while the rest of the Unholy Square moved to the Cheerios table. Quinn thought it was probably the best Rachel was going to get from her.
For two people so alike, Mercedes had never really liked Rachel. Quinn thought it had something to do with how talented Rachel was compared to her, though she knew she was a little biased. It was unfortunate, though. If Mercedes wanted, she could get out of Lima just as easily as Rachel could. She just didn't want to do the work for it that Rachel put in. Maybe, on some level, Mercedes realized that about herself and hated Rachel for what she herself could have been. Then again, maybe Quinn needed to stop trying to play pop psychologist with her friends.
So by Thursday morning Rachel seemed to be back to herself. Thanks to a cancelled Glee meeting that morning that had been rescheduled to that afternoon, the Unholy Square were all hanging out in the cafeteria along with various significant others and members of the Glee Club. Usually they would have been outside in the courtyard, but the cold spell going through hadn't yet relented. Rachel and Quinn were sitting across from each other, and Quinn was doing her best to not run from the sight of Christy and Rachel's whispered conversation or Christy laughing quietly at something Rachel had said and kissing the knuckles on Rachel's good hand. God, she wanted to punch that bitch in the face.
"So are you ready to do your song this afternoon?" Sam asked from beside her, causing her to look up from her daily motivation sketch for Rachel. Quinn had nearly forgotten he was there. Thankfully Sam could keep himself entertained with whatever video game/comic book/action movie conversations he had with Artie and not bother Quinn too often. Honestly she wished she could get in on them, but, unfortunately, being into 'nerdy' things didn't really fit the look of the popular head cheerleader.
Quinn gave him another polite smile, and shrugged. "I suppose."
"What are you singing?" Rachel asked, tuning in at the mention of singing.
"Our lesson this week is power ballads of the 80's," Quinn explained. "I'm doing 'Open Arms'."
"Oh, I love that song!" Rachel said excitedly. "And I'm sure Mr. Schuester had to love that you were singing Journey. Or are you doing the Mariah Carey cover of it? Though I can't imagine you being able to keep up with the vocal runs needed for her version."
"No offense, of course," Santana threw in with a snicker from Quinn's other side.
Rachel looked confused, trying to figure out how that would be offensive, but Quinn just shook her head, smiling. "None taken. And, yes, I'm doing the Journey version of the song. I've never been a huge fan of Mariah Carey. Her voice goes too high. It's like she's trying to call dogs with it or something."
"It's called the whistle register," Rachel said. "It's really rare that anyone can do it well. I can see how some people wouldn't like it, though. It's not really singing anymore so much as playing your voice like an instrument."
"I guess," Quinn said, shrugging again.
"I wish I could see you sing this afternoon," Rachel said wistfully. "Even if I didn't have a doctor's appointment today, I doubt Mr. Schuester would let me back into the choir room."
"Not after you embarrassed him Monday in front of us," Santana laughed. She and Mike were currently going over English homework, but apparently Santana still felt the need to be part of Quinn's conversation. "Come on, Berry. First you dis him and his girlfriend for sucking at their jobs, then you tear him a new one for getting in your personal life. I doubt he's exactly saving you a seat."
"I haven't said anything that wasn't true," Rachel defended. "Just because the truth hurts doesn't make it any less true. As you keep reminding me, in fact."
"That's what I'm here for, small fry," Santana said, smirking at Rachel before going back to her notes.
"You embarrassed Mr. Schuester?" Christy asked. "In front of the Glee club?"
Rachel suddenly looked self-conscious. "Well, I mean, I didn't technically set out to embarrass him or anything. It may have just kind of happened. Possibly. Maybe."
"Wow," Christy said. "That's kind of impressive. Especially after what happened the first day back." Christy leaned forward and kissed Rachel for a few seconds before moving back with a smile. "My chick bad. My chick hood," Christy rapped, much to Rachel's horror. Santana looked up and started laughing loudly at the face Rachel was making. Quinn just thought they were all annoying. "My chick do stuff that ya chick wish she could."
"I'm not, though," Rachel said, shaking her head. "Bad. Or hood." She paused. "Or yours, for that matter. Isn't that what you said?"
"Rachel…" Christy said, smile gone now and a pleading tone in her voice.
"I'm sorry." Rachel glanced around at the rest of the table. "Now isn't the time."
"You know how I feel about long-distance relationships," Christy argued. "They don't work. I told you about Daniel."
"I know, but…" Rachel started. This time she was pleading with Christy. Thankfully everyone else around them had the decency to look away while she did. "But maybe we're different. Maybe it could work out with us. And even if it didn't, I still don't see why you wouldn't want to be in a real relationship with me for at least a little while. It's January. We could have until August, at least. Am I… am I not worth it?"
Christy turned more fully towards her and grabbed her hands. "Just the opposite, Rach. I can easily see myself falling in love with you. Too easily. And it would be the greatest thing in the world. You're amazing and beautiful and perfect. The type of girl I'd do anything for. That I'd give up everything for. Including my scholarship. I'd totally stay behind in Lima and put everything on hold for a year for you. But then my parents and I would have to try and figure out some way to pay for college, and that's not fair to them. I'm the frontrunner for this Cheerios scholarship. Realistically, my parents could afford to send either me or Missy to college, but not both of us. Not without going into crippling debt. If I get this, Missy could go wherever she wanted, too, even without any kind of scholarships. I'm sorry, but I can't let something like falling in love with you get in the way of her possibly going to college."
Rachel sat silent for a moment before letting out a long, drawn-out frustrated sigh. Eventually she said, "You're a good sister."
"I try," Christy said, smiling at the shorter girl. "Now I have to get to the library before homeroom. Stephanie wanted me to go over her paper for her."
"Okay," Rachel said, sighing dejectedly. "Can you at least ask her why she hates me?"
"She doesn't hate you, silly," Christy said, standing from her place beside Rachel, bending down and kissing her on the forehead. "She's just always busy going over homework and stuff. That's why she doesn't have time to hang out with us in the mornings."
"Yeah, sure," Rachel said, sounding thoroughly unconvinced. "And the reason she's always glaring at me…?"
"Steph doesn't glare, Rach," Christy said, pulling Rachel up to stand beside her. "And if she is hesitant to hang out with us, maybe it's because you keep such… intimidating company." Christy glanced over to Quinn and Santana as she said this. As one, they both looked up and stared at the girl who was thankfully smart enough to turn back to Rachel. "I'm a Cheerio, too, so… y'know. But Steph… she's more the cute, little nerdy type. If we hadn't been friends so long, she'd probably be scared to hang around me, too. Think about how you were last year with…" Again she glanced back at Quinn and Santana.
"I guess…" Rachel said. "I just wish she wasn't so cold to me. It's not my fault my friends are a little… scary. Just tell her that Quinn and Santana are really very nice once you get to know them." Rachel hesitated. "To me, anyway. And I'm sure if I asked them politely, they'd be nice to her, too."
"Sitting right here, midget," Santana said casually, having already lost interest in the conversation and was again looking over her notes.
"I'm aware, thank you," Rachel said, not bothering to look back at the Latina who flipped her off without looking up. "See? I'm the biggest loser in the school while Santana's probably the scariest, and yet we're still friends. So Stephanie really has no reason to not come socialize with us."
Christy looked back and forth between Quinn, Santana, and Rachel. "I'll talk to her," Christy said, smiling at Rachel. "Just for you. Now kiss me so I can go."
Thankfully Quinn went back to looking at her drawing so she didn't have to see that disgusting public display of affection. She did have to hear it, though, and… God, Rachel's little moan was so sexy. Quinn had the sudden urge to go all cavewoman on Christy, club her over the head, and take Rachel for her own. Yet another urge she had to push to the back of her mind for fear of acting on it or even really thinking too hard about it. It just felt like it was getting so full back there.
After Quinn heard them separate from each other, Christy said, "And you are my chick," and gave her another quick kiss on the lips. Walking away, they heard her singing again, "My chick bad, my chick hood…"
"You two are disgusting," Santana said from beside Quinn, mirroring Quinn's own thoughts. "Why can't you be all vanilla like Ken and Barbie over here?"
"Hey!"
"Oh, I'm sorry, princess," Santana said, turning to Quinn. "That wasn't a knock. It's actually a compliment. You two are so boring that no one ever has to worry about accidentally seeing your lame, slightly incestuous-looking, PDAs." Quinn glared hard at Santana who only laughed. "And I know you so bad want to make out with your little boy toy there and prove me wrong, but we both know it'd only be covering for how truly dull your relationship is. No offense."
"No, I'm pretty sure that was offense," Quinn said.
"Yeah, I just wanted to see if you'd forgive me as fast as you did the dwarf here," Santana said, shrugging.
"You're a bitch."
"Takes one to know one, blondie."
Santana had been pissed off for days. Ever since practice Saturday or, really, the night before, Quinn supposed. She and Brittany still weren't talking to each other. It was unusual for them to go that long without speaking. She'd hoped Rachel's words in the locker room would have had some effect on the Latina, but maybe that had been unrealistic.
Quinn and Santana glared at each other angrily before Rachel, who had sat back down, broke the standoff with "I can't believe people are buying slushees with how cold it is."
"Yeah, I don't think all those slushees are for drinking, pipsqueak," Santana said, finally breaking her gaze from Quinn and going back to her notebook. Quinn, for her part, did her best to go back to her drawing so she wouldn't have to see Rachel's face and that sad little look of understanding.
Today's was a quote from E.E. Cummings- 'To be nobody but yourself- in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else- means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight. Never stop fighting.'- and the picture that Quinn was drawing along with it was a bridge going over a little creek surrounded by forest. She had no idea how the two went together, but it was nice. Peaceful.
"Slushees," Rachel said, quietly. "They're going to throw them at people." It wasn't a question, but still she looked around for an answer. Again, everyone looked away from Rachel so no one would have to answer her non-question.
The table maintained an uneasy silence as they worked on their different projects. Quinn and her picture, Santana and Mike and their English homework, Artie and Sam going over some video game magazine. Brittany was fast asleep with her head on the table. Tina and Mercedes were gossiping and pointing out people in the cafeteria and hadn't paid any attention to the rest of table the entire time. Rachel watching as people bought slushees.
The last few minutes before homeroom passed in that silence. Quinn was just putting her picture away when she heard Rachel gasp. She looked up, first to Rachel who had her hand covering her mouth, then to where her eyes were pointed. Some idiot senior football player had just slusheed a freshman girl and was laughing at her with his buddies while her friends took her away from the cafeteria.
"It's not right," Rachel said, once the shock had worn off. "They shouldn't be allowed to do that. It's… it's not right."
"You can't fight the system, Berry," Santana said, sighing. "You can only dodge around it the best you can."
"So what?" Rachel rounded on her angrily. "Just because I have popular friends I'm exempt from it, but since that girl didn't, she's not? How is that fair?"
"Easy there, Thumbelina," Santana said, holding up her hands. Overhead the first bell rang, signaling them to get to homeroom. "I didn't say it was fair. I just said that's how it is."
"Well it's not right," Rachel said, standing from the table and slinging her bag over her shoulder. "We should do something about it."
"Like what?"
"I… I don't know," Rachel said, rounding the table to where Mike was putting his books away into his bag. "I'll get back to you."
By lunchtime, Rachel actually did have a plan. She just wasn't telling anybody what it was. And the worry was starting to drive Quinn a little crazy. She needed to know what Rachel was scheming. It was her job to protect the girl, and she couldn't do that if she didn't know all the variables. Hell, it was kind of selfish for Rachel to not tell her. Whatever it was, Rachel had come up with it last period. And despite Quinn's best efforts, she wasn't telling.
Halfway through lunch, Rachel had finished eating and was packing her collector's edition Annie lunchbox back up. Looking over to Brittany, who was busy building a teepee out of her remaining french-fries, she said, "Brittany, would you come with me? I think I would like a slushee."
Quinn stopped with her fork halfway to her mouth and looked over at Rachel. Santana did likewise. "Rachel?" Quinn asked cautiously. "Did you just say-?"
"Yes," Rachel answered. "I'd like a slushee. It's been a while since I've had one."
"That brings back flashbacks," Santana said. "Last year, we'd have been all over that statement."
"I'm well aware," Rachel said, somewhat heatedly, though she calmed quickly. "But that's in the past. As for now, I think I'd like to get a slushee and take a walk before Art. Brittany?"
"Um, sure, Rach," Brittany said, clearly confused but going along with whatever Rachel wanted.
As they started to walk off, Quinn's voice stopped her. "Rachel? You know that whatever you might be doing is going to have consequences, right? And as the three girls that are basically protecting you from the rest of the school, we're the ones that are going to have to deal with those consequences." She had no idea what Rachel was going to do, but she knew the girl was up to something.
"I know, Quinn," Rachel said. "And I appreciate that. I would never do anything to make your life harder. In fact, I would do whatever possible to make your life easier." And with that, Brittany and Rachel walked off, leaving Quinn and Santana staring at each other, completely confused.
They turned and watched in silence as Rachel and Brittany went over to the slushee machine and each got a slushee. Rachel got a forty ounce grape while Brittany got the smaller twenty ounce cherry. They went through the cafeteria's line and paid for their slushees, then went out through the doors and back into the rest of the school.
"Are you getting that panicky, under-boob sweaty feeling, too?" Santana asked, finally turning away from the doors and looking at her. Quinn just arched an eyebrow questionably at the Latina in response. "What? It's a thing that happens when I get nervous." She continued to stare. "Just… shut up, okay?"
They sat in silence for a minute, eating their lunches before Santana spoke again. "So…" She looked around at the mix of Gleeks and Cheerios at their table. "Can I talk to you?"
"Sure."
"No, I mean, like," she looked around again, "away from here."
Quinn again arched a questioning eyebrow but Santana only glanced around at everybody and shook her head slightly. "Okay," Quinn said, getting her trash together and standing from the table. Santana did likewise and they made their way to the trashcan and out the door.
Outside, she let Santana lead the way, and they walked through the school, eventually making their way to the Cheerios locker room. Inside, Santana looked around the locker room to make sure it was empty before going back to the door and locking it. Once it was locked, she made her way over to the lockers and leaned up against one, letting her head fall back to smack against it.
"Is everything okay?" Quinn asked. She'd never seen Santana this troubled without actually being physically violent towards someone. She was the type to lash out at people. Yet here she was, something clearly bothering her, and she had been surprisingly calm about it in front of Rachel and Brittany.
"No," Santana said, opening her eyes to look at Quinn. "I need to tell you something, but I don't want you to do that annoying thing you do that makes me want to punch you in the face."
"Talk?" Quinn guessed, already tiring of this conversation. God, why didn't Rachel ask her to go do whatever it was she was doing?
"Yeah, that," Santana said, gesturing to the benches in front of her. Quinn dutifully took her seat. Whatever it was seemed to be important to Santana, and the times they talked about important things were few and far between.
Quinn waited in silence for a minute or two before saying, "So one of us should talk, then."
Santana huffed out a breath. Then she took a deep breath before saying, "Okay… so… there's something I have to tell you."
"Holy crap, are you pregnant?" Quinn asked, standing quickly.
"Fuck no!" Santana spat out. "Don't even joke like that!"
"I wasn't joking," Quinn said, sitting back down. "You're being all nervous-serious, and-"
"And you're doing that 'talking' thing we discussed," Santana said, causing Quinn to hold up her hands in surrender. Santana rubbed hers together and put them in front of her mouth, lowering them again before speaking. "Okay, so… before I say this thing I'm about to say, I don't want you doing any kind of smartass thing like I would probably do and say 'duh' or 'tell me something I don't know' or any of that kind of bullshit, okay?"
"Okay…?"
"Okay," Santana said, nodding. She kept wringing her hands nervously, though, and Quinn had a sudden idea what this was about.
"You know, you don't have to tell me," Quinn offered. "I could, like… I don't know. Guess? And you could tell me if I was right or wrong, maybe."
"No, no," Santana said. "I think I need the practice." They were both quiet for a minute before Santana started talking again in this nervous voice that Quinn had never heard her use before. "Okay, so… I'm, um… see… the thing is… ugh!" She turned and punched a locker before pressing her forehead against it. "Why is this so fucking hard to say? You know. I know you know. It shouldn't even be that big of a deal."
"If it makes it you feel any better, I don't care," Quinn said. "I mean, it's not a big deal to me."
"Bullshit," Santana said, rounding on her. "You think I don't see how much you hate yourself for going through this same thing. Berry and Britts don't because their families love them no matter what, but me and you, bitch…? The church gives us shit for even thinking about it much less admitting it. So don't sit there being all 'little miss P.C.' and tell me you don't care about it."
"I meant about you," Quinn said quietly. "It doesn't change my opinion of you. I don't care about it for you."
"…oh," Santana said, somewhat sheepishly. "Sorry. I'm just…"
"Yeah." Quinn paused. "It's fine."
They both sat in silence for another minute before Santana finally said, "I'm gay."
Quinn was quiet because she had no idea what to say to this not-news. Santana seemed to be waiting for some kind of response, though, so she finally went with, "Okay."
"That's not all," Santana said, taking another deep breath before adding, "I'm… I'm in love with Brittany. Like, more than I thought was possible. And I don't mean the way that I love you or- God help me- even Berry. Not even the way I thought that maybe I could be in love with Puck because it was 'the Christian thing to do'."
"I'm pretty sure loving a Jew isn't the Christian thing to do," Quinn joked.
"You're one to talk," Santana shot back quickly before continuing. "But, no. I love Brittany like… like I want us to move away from here. Move to somewhere we can get married. Like, I see a future with her. A house, maybe a dog or some more incredibly fat cats. Maybe a couple kids one day. And I hate kids. Like, more than hate. Mega-loathe. But the idea of a couple mini-Britts running around…? It seems like the best idea in the history of ever. Y'know?"
Again Quinn had no idea what to say so she replied with, "Okay."
"Okay."
There was silence for a minute before Quinn decided Santana needed some kind of support from her. "I'm not… I don't mean to be…" Quinn started, then stopped, trying to figure out what she was going to say. "I'm not, like, pro-gay or anything, but… if there were two people meant to be together, I think it's you and Brittany."
"Thanks," Santana said awkwardly. It was clear she wanted to say more to Quinn but was trying to hold her tongue. "So… I'm going to tell her," Santana said. "Or… ask her, I guess. Like, I'm going to ask her to be my for-real girlfriend. No hiding, no telling people we're just best friends. No sneaking around. I want to actually, y'know… be with her."
"What about your parents?" Quinn asked. "There's no way you can be out with her and them not find out."
"I know," Santana said. "I haven't talked to them yet, but I'm going to."
"Oh," Quinn said, because, really, that was all she had. This wasn't news to Quinn. It was barely news to anyone that knew both girls. Still, Quinn couldn't help but feel incredibly proud for Santana and terrified for her at the same time. "You know… if you do tell your parents and things don't go well… We've always got some extra bedrooms."
"Thanks," Santana said, thoughts elsewhere. "Berry said the same thing."
"Rachel offered to let you live with her?" Quinn asked as another question popped into her mind. "You told Rachel already?"
"Well, one of her dads found us making out," Santana said, shrugging. "Me being gay was bound to come up."
"Oh," Quinn again said, though this time tightlipped. She'd forgotten that apparently everyone had made out with Rachel.
"Aw, don't be all jelly, Q," Santana said, smirking. "Green's so not a good color on you."
"I'm not jealous," Quinn said, standing and getting in Santana's face. "I don't even know what I'd be jealous about."
"Oh, I don't know," Santana said, refusing to back down. "Maybe that all these people have gotten to make out with Berry but you. Or maybe that all your lesbi-friends keep coming out while you're still barricading the door to your closet. Or maybe-"
But she was interrupted by the school's intercom system… which was probably a good thing because Quinn was pretty much ready for round two with Santana.
"Attention students," Principal Figgins said, addressing the school. "Starting immediately, any incidents involving slushees being thrown, poured, or tossed at or on another student or faculty member will be met with a mandatory one-week suspension from school. Additionally, that student will be banned from participating in any extracurricular activities including athletic, academic, or artistic clubs for the rest of the year. Any following attempt will be met with an immediate expulsion from William McKinley High School. This school should foster a safe learning environment, free from the tyrannical persecution of bullying. This is no longer something we will strive for but something we must do. You have my word on this as your principal. Thank you. That is all."
Quinn and Santana stood there staring at each other, argument forgotten. No more slushees? Neither girl could seem to fathom it. For the last two and a half years they were their main weapon in the world of high school. Both girls had thrown their share, and ordered more than their share. And yet, in less than a day, Rachel Berry had somehow figured out how to stop them once and for all. It was just…
"And that's why I'm asking Berry to help me get Brittany," Santana said, smiling.
A few minutes earlier…
Rachel and Brittany left the cafeteria, slushees in hand. Brittany unwrapped her straw and stuck it into the lid of her slushee, sucking at it and making an "mmm" sound while Rachel merely held hers.
"Rachie," Brittany said cautiously, glancing over at Rachel. "You forgot your straw."
"Oh, it's okay," Rachel said, casually leading them down the hall. "I'm sure I won't need one."
Brittany was silent for a moment before asking, "You're not planning on drinking that, are you?"
Rachel paused mid-step, turning to look at Brittany. "Not really, no."
"Rachie…" Brittany said. It wasn't quite a whine, not yet, but Rachel could tell it was headed that way. It was the same way Brittany would sometimes say her name when she went over to her house after school when Rachel would remind her that she was there to tutor the taller girl, not play Mario games with her. It was Brittany's unhappy voice, and it broke her heart. It did most people. That's why it was so hard to say no to her. "You know more than anyone that it's not nice to throw slushees at people."
"I know, Birdy," Rachel tried explaining. "And that's why I'm not planning on throwing it at someone. I just wanted it as a physical reminder of what could happen if this doesn't stop, okay?"
"But you're not planning on throwing it at anyone?" Brittany asked, making sure.
"That's not the plan, no," Rachel said, starting walking again. She led them through the school, all the way near the front of the school, taking a right before they actually went through the front doors.
Once they were in the receptionist's area outside Principal Figgins office, Rachel led Brittany over to the seats in the waiting area in front of Donna's desk. Donna, Principal Figgins' secretary, shot them both a look but didn't say anything. She was busy eating lunch at her desk and didn't seem to be bothered by random students showing up there.
"If you'll just wait here, Birdy," Rachel said, "I'm going to go talk to Principal Figgins about getting slushees banned as instruments of bullying at this school."
"Wait. That's your plan?" Brittany asked, confused. "Talking to Principal Figgins? I thought you were going to slushee someone?"
"Like I said, that's not really the plan," Rachel said. She sat down in the chair beside Brittany. "I know how terrible it is to get slusheed. I do maybe more than anyone. That's why, as mad as I've been sometimes at the people that have slusheed me, I've never done it back to anyone. It's not right."
Brittany looked sad, and Rachel hated it more than anything. It seemed to be her new least favorite thing in the world. "I'm sorry, Rachie," Brittany said. "I never should have let them slushee you like they did. I should have done something about it. I could have… I don't know. Something."
"Stop, please," Rachel said, setting the slushee down on the small table so she could take her hand. "If you had stood up for me, they would have made fun of you. Santana would have gotten in a fight eventually and gotten suspended or expelled. And it's not just me that was getting slusheed. You couldn't have stood up for everyone. So it's okay. Everything worked out like it was supposed to."
"Do you really believe that?" Brittany asked. "Because mom's always saying stuff about how God does things for a reason, but then it seems sometimes like everything is bad, like you getting slusheed or hurting yourself, and I just… it's all confusing. I don't want bad stuff to happen."
"I don't think anybody does," Rachel said. "But maybe… maybe the bad stuff has to happen to make way for the good stuff? It's like you showed me a couple of weeks ago, all the good stuff that's happened since I tried to kill myself. Being friends with you and Quinn, and- I can't believe I'm saying this, but even Santana. Getting to know your family and have them semi-adopt me. Even getting to know Shelby a little better. Maybe none of that would have happened if I hadn't tried it."
"Maybe…" Brittany said, thoughtfully.
"Okay, so I'm going to go talk to Principal Figgins while you stay here and enjoy your drink." Rachel stood, leaning down and kissing Brittany on the top of the head who smiled up at her with her lips around the straw of her slushee. Rachel reached down and grabbed her slushee, walking over to where Donna sat behind her desk.
"Miss Donna, is it okay if I go in and talk to Principal Figgins?" she asked.
Donna looked up from her chicken salad sandwich to Rachel, shrugged her shoulders, and said, "I don't care. He keeps me from leaving my desk during lunch, so feel free to interrupt him."
"Um… thank you?" Rachel said carefully before walking away.
Rachel walked over and opened the door to Principal Figgins' office, stepping through and letting it close behind her. Principal Figgins was currently swaying back and forth with his eyes closed, listening to some kind of music on an oversized set of headphones. Every now and then she could hear him humming along, and she thought she caught the words "Jesus" and "saves" or something to that effect. Rachel just stared at him, braced hand on her hip while the other one held the forty ounces of grape slushee.
Eventually Principal Figgins noticed that someone was in his office with him. He opened his eyes, stumbled back in shock in his chair, and hastily took the headphones off his head.
"Miss Berry," Principal Figgins said, somewhat startled, reaching down and cutting off his tape player. "What can I help you with today?"
Seriously, a tape player? Who even has one of those anymore? Rachel thought. A record player she could understand because they preserved the sound and vitality of the music when it was first lain down. But tapes? Yeesh. They were one of the basest forms of music translation. The only thing that could be worse is if he had an eight-track player in his car. Oh, God, he probably does!
Rachel shook her head, clearing the disturbing thoughts of tapes from her consciousness. They weren't important right now. "Thank you, Principal Figgins, for your time. I'm here today to talk to you about slushees here at William McKinley high school." Principal Figgins rolled his eyes at this as Rachel had been to his office many times over the years (once a week for a while) to complain about things, and slushees always came up the most.
She set the grape slushee she held on his desk. "Do you know what this is?" Rachel asked, not giving him time to answer. "To you, it's probably a refreshing beverage. To students like me and others in this school, it is forty ounces of grape-flavored humiliation. This morning, I watched as a senior boy, someone old enough to be tried as an adult for assault, threw the contents of one of these forty ounce slushees at a fourteen year old freshman girl. Someone who's basically a child. Someone who it is your job as principal of this school to protect. And do you know the worst part of being doused by one of these slushee-wielding attackers? It's not the fact that it's cold or it's wet. It's the fact that it stains. And most people, they don't bring an extra set of clothes to school like I do. Those people, those victims of this heinous crime, they have to spend the rest of the day stained in red or purple or green. They have to let everyone see that they've been victimized, that they've been humiliated, by another student. They have to wear their crime the rest of the day, showing everyone just exactly what happened."
"Miss Berry," Principal Figgins sighed. "We've been over this many times in the last three years that you've been here. The school board does not consider slushees a suspend-worthy weapon. We give detentions to all the students that we can for throwing slushees, but, frankly, our staff is overworked and underpaid as it is. There is simply nothing I can do about this situation. Now if you have a solution, then I would be happy-"
"I do have a solution," Rachel said, getting angry and slightly louder. "Ignore what the school board tells you- what you can and cannot do- and suspend any student that throws a slushee at someone. This is your school Principal Figgins, and you will ultimately be the one held responsible for the actions within."
"I cannot go against the school board's wishes, Miss Berry," Principal Figgins said.
"This isn't going against, it's going above and beyond," Rachel countered. "It's possible other schools don't have the same kind of problems with slushees that this school has." Rachel didn't add the fact that those other schools probably didn't have slushee machines installed in their schools. According to Christy, who had heard it from one of the seniors when she was a freshman, many years ago when Principal Figgins had seen how many students were bringing slushees in from gas stations around the school, he'd had a machine installed in the cafeteria. Sales had been phenomenal. "You could look revolutionary for dealing with an important issue before it has to go before the school board."
"I cannot go against the school board," Principal Figgins said again. "I am sorry, Miss Berry. My hands are tied."
Rachel stood there for a moment, staring at him. "Fine."
She picked up the forty ounce slushee, pried the top off with the thumb and index finger of her braced hand, tossed the lid to the side, and hurled the slushee into Principal Figgins' face. She was aiming for his face, at least, but got the lower part of his face and the upper part of his chest. Apparently aiming those things were way more difficult than being slusheed had led her to believe. Maybe they did practice on dummies or something.
"I'll take my detention now," Rachel said, sitting the cup back down on his desk.
"Detention?" Principal Figgins sputtered, spitting out grape slushee. "I should have you expelled for this."
"Please do," Rachel said, somewhere between a smirk and a snarl. She knew she needed to channel some Quinn/Santana for this one. "Please have the girl that tried to commit suicide for being slusheed- after you did nothing to keep her safe- expelled for doing the same thing to you. I'm pretty sure I could get on the news tonight."
Rachel let him sit with that one for a moment before she continued. "So here are the options I see playing out before us. One, you can give me a detention like you do with everyone else that gets caught slushee-ing others. Of course, if you choose that one, students are going to quickly realize that they can get away with slushee-ing teachers for just a detention. Oh, and don't think you can have different rules for slushee-ing students than you do for teachers. Because I will go to the local news stations with that, too. I'm sure they, or the school board, would love to hear about that."
Rachel paused, pretending to muse for a moment to build the drama. "I wonder what will happen the first time someone realizes they can slushee Coach Sylvester for only a detention?"
She watched as Principal Figgins' eyes grew impressively wide, and he muttered a "Dear God, the children…"
"Option two," Rachel continued, "is that, despite what the school board says, you can have anyone that gets caught slushee-ing another person at this school suspended. Oh, and permanently banned from all extracurricular activities. A following incident would then mean an expulsion from school."
"I cannot just start expelling students willy and or nilly from this school, Miss Berry," Principal Figgins tried pleading with her. "There could be serious complaints if expelled students went to the school board."
"Yes, there could be," Rachel agreed. "Complaints that you could then refute since you were simply providing a safe learning environment for your students here at William McKinley." Rachel paused again. This was so hard, bullying someone else. How did Santana and Quinn ever do it? "Or… we, the victims at this school, could start reporting these incidents for what they really are. Crimes of assault. Because if someone did what I just did to you outside of school, you could definitely report them to the police if you wanted. Especially if they did it to you at least twice a week for two and a half years."
"But really, it's your choice," Rachel said. "What would you like your legacy to be here? As a principal that cared only about money and so sold weapons of bullying- of assault- to students for $3.99 per forty ounce? Or as someone that refused to let their students be bullied any longer? As someone that stood up to the school board and decided to go above and beyond their rules because it was what was right? It's your choice."
They stood there in silence for two solid minutes before Principal Figgins finally relinquished. "Perhaps I have not taken a harsh enough stance on bullying at this school," he said. "And I would hate for students to think that their only way out is by suicide or transferring as your classmate Mr. Hummel did. My church family has been praying for you, by the way."
"Thank you," Rachel said sincerely, though surprised.
"I will have Donna write up an announcement that will be delivered before the end of the week," Principal Figgins said. "We can make it on Friday, and the-"
"Oh, no need to wait," Rachel said, pulling a piece of notebook paper from the pocket of her skirt. "I had hoped you would agree with me and wrote this up just in case." She reached out and handed the folded up piece of paper to Principal Figgins who took it with a resigned sigh.
Unfolding it, he read through it a couple of times before clicking on the intercom switch and making an announcement to the entire school.
"Attention students," Principal Figgins said, addressing the school. "Starting immediately, any incidents involving slushees being thrown, poured, or tossed at or on another student or faculty member will be met with a mandatory one-week suspension from school. Additionally, that student will be banned from participating in any extracurricular activities including athletic, academic, or artistic clubs for the rest of the year. Any following attempt will be met with an immediate expulsion from William McKinley High School. This school should foster a safe learning environment, free from the tyrannical persecution of bullying. This is no longer something we will strive for but something we must do. You have my word on this as your principal. Thank you. That is all."
Quinn and Santana got a text from Brittany a few minutes after the announcement from Principal Figgins to come to the girl's bathroom nearest the principal's office. They both rushed there as fast as they could. When Quinn threw open the door, she found Rachel on the floor crying in Brittany's arms as the taller girl held her. Rachel wasn't openly sobbing like Quinn had seen her do far too many times so she was thankful for that. Still, it was heart wrenching to see.
Rachel looked up as they entered. "Bullying people sucks," she said, tucking back into Brittany.
"I know, I know" Quinn said, taking a seat on the floor beside her and getting in on the hug.
They sat that way for a minute with Santana staring down at them. Eventually, Brittany looked up at her and gave her a small, sad smile and did a head nod towards them, silently asking her to join them. It was the first communication they'd had all week, and it gave Quinn hope that maybe everything wasn't screwed up between the two. She'd meant what she said talking to Santana. If anyone was meant to be together, it was Brittany and Santana.
Santana sat down with them, group-hugging Rachel and Quinn, less so with Brittany. She still wasn't sure where she sat with her. Still, it was a nice moment for the Unholy Square- a name that Quinn was still having trouble with, but Rachel and Brittany seemed to love it.
Well, it was nice, anyway, until a couple of girls walked in to find them on the floor causing Santana to scream, "Get out, bitches! Can't you see we're having a fucking moment here?!"