A/N: Very explicit language in this chapter, so reader discretion is advised.
"Get down!" I grab Rachel by the hood of her jacket and pull her so hard that she falls down between the crack of the seat with me. I didn't mean to pull her that hard, but she was about to get her head knocked off and I don't regret doing it. Especially as Kurt's brown shaggy pillow flies past us as soon as she's out of the way. That was a close one!
"Ow!" She screams as her elbow hits the floor and I think she's just being dramatic. I pulled her hard, but it wasn't hard enough to actually hurt her I don't think. It probably just scared her more than anything. "I told you to stop pulling me like that!"
"Well it's either me pull you or you get hit so hard that your head spins around. Take your pick." Even though we need to get up and grab the pillows in the seat ahead of us so we can defend ourselves, I take a small moment to caress her elbow since she's nursing it a little bit. "I'm sorry, I'll rub it later. Stay stay down, okay?"
She keeps herself tucked between the seat, folded up into a pretzel while I slowly stand up and check out the battlefield. Santana's about to crush Blaine in the back of the neck, Mercedes is protecting Sam with Sugar's body pillow, and nobody's paying attention to me. Good. This is my chance. While nobody's paying attention to me, I stand on me and Rachel's seat so I can reach into the seat ahead of us and grab Brittany's unicorn pillow and a plain blue pillow that I think belongs to either Finn or Rory.
"Here," I whisper and drop the unicorn pillow down to Rachel since it has more padding.
But as soon as I drop it down to her and my eyes are off the battlefield for ONE MEASLY SECOND, Santana's yellow and gray striped pillow comes barreling at me out of nowhere and whacks me in my cheek so hard that my hair goes flying.
"HEY!" I flip my hair out of my face and look around to see who could have possibly hit me.
"QUINN'S OUT!" Mercedes yells to the entire bus, celebrating the fact that she hit me. Wow. My own sister. Isn't there some kind of moral code here?! I could've gotten her out ROUNDS ago!
"I'LL GET YOU BACK, YOU BITCH!" I yell back at her but start laughing before I can even really get the last syllable comes out.
Since I'm out of the game indefinitely, I plop back down into me and Rachel's seat and keep my legs propped up so I don't step on her. She's not all that great at playing dodgeball and even though we're playing with pillows, she's very concerned about getting hurt. Her strategy has mostly been to stay on the floor where nobody can see her, but occasionally someone comes back here and stands over her and beams a pillow at her to get her out because she's always the last one on our team still in the game.
So far, Mercedes, Sam, Finn and Lauren are still in from Puck's team. From Mike's team, only Blaine, Rachel, Tina, Santana and Rory are still in. It's a close round. Obviously I want our team to win but at this point, I don't care who wins. I just want everyone to get out so we can start another round.
While I'm sure this isn't the safest thing a bunch of sixteen and seventeen year old kids can do, it sure is a hell of a lot of fun.
Regionals starts early in the morning. We're the second act and we go on at approximately 9:00, but we have to check in at 7:45. Since the competition is only four hours away, (five if you include the stops for peeing and gas) Mr. Schue had the bright idea for us to travel really early late at night instead of really early in the morning but it ended up being really early in the morning anyway. His logic was that we would sleep on the bus, get there early, and use the extra time to practice. I don't know how much sleeping he thought sixteen and seventeen year old high school students were going to be doing on a bus, but we're not sleeping at all. It's almost one in the morning, the entire bus is pitch black except for the light above the driver, we are nowhere near Pittsburgh because the driver made a wrong turn a few exits back, and we are playing dodgeball with our pillows.
I know that we're only kids and we're acting the way kids should act, but if I were a stranger on the outside looking in, I would think that someone gave us drugs. Blaine's standing on the seat taunting someone, Sam's screaming that they'll "never take him alive!" and we're all wide awake, laughing loud as hell. I think Mr. Schue is starting to accept the fact that he has no control over us, because he hasn't said a single word.
Beneath the seat, Rachel slowly rises from the floor and peers over the corner just enough to see what's going on. I guess she feels confident enough to take a throw at someone, because she stands completely up and rolls Brittany's pillow up as best as she can.
"You go, babe," I swat her on the butt for a little bit of moral support, but she ignores me and tiptoes a couple rows up so she can get a closer target. I think she's going for Lauren… it looks like she's going for Lauren…she's close enough to hit her… throw it… throw it, babe… throw it…
"BERRY'S OUTTA HIDING!" Sam alerts his entire team and suddenly everyone's sights are set on Rachel. It's like she's a target that they're zeroing in on and I'm sorry, but she doesn't stand a single chance.
In fact, she knows she doesn't stand a chance. So she stands in the middle of the aisle with the pillow covering her face and screams so loud that I swear the windows wobbled. At least ten pillows are all flying through the air at the same time, and somehow they all manage to connect with her. If they were real dodgeballs, I would check to see if she was hurt and probably stand in front of her and yell at everyone who threw them because ten at one time is pretty excessive no matter how much you hate her. But they're just pillows, I know she's not hurt, and for the first time in forever, it doesn't seem like anyone is annoyed with Rachel at all. It's a good night, if I dare to say it.
As soon as the onslaught of pillows stops, Rachel slowly takes her hands away from her face and drops the unicorn pillow. But then Mercedes always has to get the last word, so it's really not all that surprising when a stray green pillow comes flying through the air and hits Rachel in the side of her face after everything is over.
The pillow Mercedes threw didn't hit her that hard, but it was hard enough to knock her ponytail a little bit loose and make her hair fall in front of her face. When Rachel opens her eyes, all she says is "ow" and I know she's okay because she's grinning seconds after it happens and she's not bleeding or anything like that, but I still didn't like that. I didn't like that at all and I make a mental note to text Mercedes later and tell her that I didn't like her throwing an extra pillow at her like that.
Since she's out now too, Rachel drags her feet back up the aisle and sits in the seat beside me again, with her legs propped up on my lap. It's dark so I can't see anything for sure, but I turn my head and look at her anyway just to make sure that she really is okay. Her hair is a little messy, so I brush my hands along it to smooth it back.
"You okay?" I touch her cheek where the pillow hit her to see if I can feel any welts. "Anything hurt?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm okay," she nods and slips her phone out of her jacket pocket. "I hate to be such a party pooper, but I'm getting really sleepy."
"You can go to sleep if you want. You want my blanket? Want me to switch sides with you so you can lean against the window?" I start unfolding my blanket just in case she says yes to wanting it. I made sure I grabbed the one big enough to cover both of us, but if she wants it to herself, she can have it.
"Well they're talking about playing one more round of dodgepillow after this, so." She checks the time on her phone and sighs.
I don't think she's actually sleepy. I know Rachel. When she's sleepy, she's not going to whine about it and be huffy. She doesn't get cranky when she's sleepy. When she's truly sleepy, she gets cuddly. She wants to lie on my shoulder or hold my hand or rub my arm. She's not truly sleepy. This is about her feeling like she won't get enough rest to sing very well tomorrow. She's been upset about traveling late since Mr. Schue told us we were going to travel late and sleep on the bus last week.
"Here, lay on me." I offer her my shoulder by scooting closer and I spread my blanket across both our laps. "Put your head down."
"They're playing another round after this and I know you —"
"I don't care about playing," I shrug my shoulders and pat my left shoulder for her to lay her head on it. "Here, go to sleep. I don't need to play another round, I don't care about playing another round. I care about you getting some rest, so come on. Lie down."
"It's too loud," she sighs again but puts her head on my shoulder which is a step in the right direction. She pulls my blanket up to her neck and shifts her body so that she's comfortable in the seat with me. "Who were you texting earlier?"
"Huh?" I tuck the blanket behind my back to make sure it stays in place just where she wants it to be. "When? I was texting a lot of people earlier."
"Earlier when we got on the bus. When we sat down and I wanted to hold your hand but you told me to wait because you were texting. Who were you texting?" Underneath the blanket, her hand finds its way to mine. "I mean, you don't have to answer. It's not really my business. I was just wondering."
"It was just Frannie."
"Your sister?"
"Mhm. We text now. She was just asking when our Christmas break from school is because she wants me to come to Massachusetts to visit her. She's trying to buy me a plane ticket and everything." My thumb mindlessly strokes her knuckles and even though we could hold hands over the blanket because everyone in Glee club knows she's my girlfriend, I still feel more comfortable holding her hand underneath the blanket.
"Well that's exciting. Are you gonna go?" She yawns and scoots a little closer to me.
"I dunno. I haven't asked my parents yet. I'm not sure that they'll say yes. I honestly think they'll probably say no. They're like, super protective over me and I just can't see them letting me go to Massachusetts by myself for three days. But I don't wanna break Frannie's heart either."
"Just tell her that your parents said no. She has to respect that. And if they do say no, I don't really blame them. I would never let my seventeen-year-old daughter leave the state by herself."
"I know, I know. I won't blame them for saying no either. I'm honestly debating on whether I should even ask. I already know they're going to say no and it's not like I actually want to go. I mean, I want to see Frannie again, but —"
"You never did tell me how that went with her. You told me she came to see you on Thanksgiving, but that's all I got from you. Did you guys like, reconnect or something? Is she on your side with the whole thing between you and your parents?"
"Frannie hates my mom and dad just as much as I hate them. We're practically one in the same." Just sitting here talking, I'm getting a little sleepy myself. My head collapses on top of Rachel's head and I yawn too. "She said some really mean things to me at first."
"Like what?"
"Like… like how she doesn't support me being gay and how she doesn't think that I should be living with Mercedes because her family's… not what I deserve or whatever, I forget how she phrased it. But it was really mean. I let her hold Beth and she said all these mean things to me."
"Aww, baby," she squeezes my hand underneath the blanket. "I'm sorry. I know she probably made you feel horrible."
"She did," I admit. "But then she came back the next day and we had a heart-to-heart. She apologized and stuff and she even said that she wants to get to know you. We just like, sat and talked about a lot of things. And a lot of the things she said made sense. And I dunno, I guess… I don't know."
"If something happened, you can tell me." She picks her head up from my shoulder which makes me have to move my head. But I think she only did that because she wants to switch roles. She puts her hand on my cheek and forces my head down on her shoulder, so instead of her head being on my shoulder, my head is on her shoulder. "You've been acting kind of like, different lately."
"I have? How?"
"You've just been like, quieter. And texting her a lot, I've noticed. Like yesterday at school, you didn't touch your French fries and you usually eat them all. You just texted Frannie all through lunch, so I figured something happened with her, I just didn't know what."
"Yeah." I know me and Rachel try not to keep secrets from each other, and ever since Frannie told me about dad, I have been feeling a little sad. I would love to talk to Rachel about it and get it off my chest since I won't see Bailey until Tuesday. But it's not my story to tell. It's Frannie's story and I don't think I should share it with anyone. But we have no secrets between us…
"Well?" She nudges me softly. "Did something happen?"
"...I can't talk about it." I sigh.
"Quinn, we don't do secrets. You and me, we don't… do that. Not anymore, not since you told me about you and Santana. We agreed. So if something's bothering you and it's something I can help you with, then —"
"You can't, though. You can't help me with this. I don't think anybody can. It's… it's not something that can be fixed. No matter how hard anybody tries."
"Now you're starting to scare me." She loosens the grip she has around my hand. "What's the matter with you? What's going on? You can tell me anything."
"...You have to swear you won't tell. I mean it, Rachel. You cannot tell anybody, not even Mercedes. You can't even breathe about it, okay? After I tell you, it's done. It's done, it's over and you forget about it. I mean it. It's serious. You can't tell a soul."
"Obviously I won't say anything to anybody, now what's wrong?" She lets my hand go and picks her head up from mine just so she can face me. And even though it's dark, I can see that she's looking at me with the utmost concern laced into her expression. "What's going on?"
I turn my head and look at the way the reflectors shine on the ground as the bus chugs along the highway. The bright orange construction signs turn to orange blobs with the speed we're going at and concentrating on the orange blobs makes it easier for me to say what I'm about to say to her.
I can trust Rachel. She won't tell. It's just Rachel. It's not my story to tell, it's Frannie's. But it's just Rachel and it's been bothering me since Frannie told me and I can't see Bailey until Tuesday and I just have to let it out. I have to…
"...My dad used to touch my sister." I say it only loud enough for her to barely hear it.
But I know she heard it because I hear the way her breath catches in her throat when she gasps. And from the corner of my eye, I see the way her hand comes up to cover her mouth.
"Quinn…" She says in a loud whispers. "Oh my god…"
"Yeah. She just told me about it before she left town and I can't stop thinking about it. It's like… like I keep running through my memories trying to think of a time where I could have noticed something. Like was there a time when things were fishy? Did I ever notice things getting weird? And Rachel, I had no clue. I had no clue…"
"Well he was probably really good at hiding it, most sick people like that are." She shakes her head slowly. "I don't understand, I… did she say how? Or when?"
"Apparently every night when he tucked her into bed and every time we went to the beach. And she told my mom once, but my mom didn't care. She cared for a minute but then bribed her to keep her mouth shut and I just… I feel so lost now, Rach. It's like… like I never even knew who my parents were. I lived in a house with a child molester for sixteen years and I never knew a thing. My mom knew the whole time and she never did anything about it. She didn't protect me or protect Frannie or —"
"Oh god, he didn't do it to you too, did he?"
"No! God, no. No. He never did anything to me, never even showed signs, never even gave me an inkling. He didn't do anything to me. He threw a glass at my head for mouthing off once. He missed, but it shattered everywhere and I cut my foot. That's it. He never looked at me a certain way, never came in and touched me, never… nothing." I stop looking out the window and look at Rachel instead. "...He washed his hands after putting Frannie to bed, every single night. How did I not know?"
"Because you were still innocent." She cups her hand around my cheek. "You know… the only person who would notice the signs and check for the signs are the people who are either trained for it or know it first hand. You still had your innocence. Of course you didn't know."
"You have to swear you won't say anything to anyone Rachel, I really mean it." I gently push her hand away from my face to let her know I mean business. "This isn't something that can get out. You can't say anything. You don't understand what my dad is capable of. If anyone else knows about this…"
"Okay, let's drop it then. It stays between us and we're dropping it. Alright?" I nod and look away and she goes back to holding my hand underneath the blanket. "So did I tell you how dinner with Shelby went?"
"No," I interlock our fingers under the blanket. Smooth change. Okay, good. Dad is out of my mind, Frannie is out of my mind. They're out of my mind. No more talking about it, no more thinking about it. "Was it horrible? I kind of assumed it wasn't horrible because you took forever to get to my house and Shelby took forever to come get Beth."
"It was great, Quinn." She sighs dreamily and goes back to our original position of her lying on my shoulder and my head resting against hers. "They all really liked each other. I know I wasn't even born yet, but I felt like they picked up where they left off sixteen years ago. They seemed like old friends. I could tell Shelby was nervous but she calmed down after like, six seconds. Then my dads brought out the old photo albums. Shelby wanted to see how I grew up and she looked at every single picture. Some of them made her cry. And then my dads told her thank you for giving me to them and I swear Quinn, it felt like a Hallmark movie. It really did. It was like… so rewarding for Shelby to see that she did the right thing."
"It sounds like it was pretty beautiful."
"It really was. And I started to think… and I told Shelby that she should make one for you." I feel her smiling against my shoulder but I don't want to move my head to look down and see it.
"You did what?"
"I told her to make one for you. A photo album. Of Beth. Just something you can look back on when Beth is sixteen and you're having Thanksgiving dinner with her and Shelby someday. Because this might not last forever, you know? You're gonna go to college and get the hell out of Lima and make something of yourself. You're destined for greatness, Quinn. You really are. And when you leave… maybe you won't see Beth as much anymore. But you should still have a way to look back and see the life you gave her. I think that'll be beautiful. So I told Shelby to make one for you."
"...You are incredible, Rachel Berry."
I adjust the grip on my phone so I can stretch out my fingers because even with my popsocket, holding my phone is making my fingers cramp up. I think Rachel knows that I'm getting a cramp, because she reaches up and takes the phone off of me and holds it between the both of us instead of making me hold it.
I'm not sure what time it is, all I know is that about half an hour ago, the dodgepillow games stopped and everyone decided to wind down after Mr. Schue told us that we needed to try and get some rest so we're not completely exhausted. Santana and Brittany took the seat across from me and Rachel and settled in just like us, and they took our idea of finding something to watch on Netflix. I'm pretty sure me and Rachel's movie is about to be over because we've been watching for a while and all the good stuff has already happened. We started to binge watch a show together but then we agreed that the show would make us want to stay up and keep watching, so then we settled on a movie called "Unbelievable" instead. And it's good. It's good enough to have kept me up and interested.
Turns out I was right about it almost being over, because after another five or so minutes, the credits start to roll. Rachel exits my Netflix app then hands me my phone back as I pull the shared headphones out of both our ears.
"I didn't like the ending," Rachel mumbles and sits upright to readjust her position enough for us to fall asleep.
"Yeah, I know. It was kind of shitty." I lock my phone and lean my head on my pillow, against the window. Rachel puts her head against my shoulder and makes sure we both have enough of the blanket so that it's shared evenly. "Goodnight."
"Night," she holds my hand and snuggles up close to me. "Love you."
"Love you too." I close my eyes and try to get in the right mindset to fall asleep.
I am a little exhausted, I'm not going to lie about that. But I can't ever fall into a deep sleep in any moving vehicle, so I don't think I'll be getting much sleep. Good thing the competition is early so we'll be done early. We're not far enough from home to stay in a hotel, so Mr. Schue didn't bother to spend the budget and rent rooms. We're just going to go to Pittsburgh, perform, win, then go back home. By this time tomorrow, I will be in my cozy little bed about to wake up in a few hours and eat whatever delicious thing Mom made for breakfast.
Just as I think I'm actually going to be able to sleep, I feel my phone buzz in my lap. When I open my eyes, I see that Rachel is still scrolling through her phone, which is what she usually does when she's waiting to fall asleep. If she's on her phone, then the text message is probably from her.
I slip one hand out of the warmth of the blanket and use it to check my phone.
New Text Message
Saturday, December 7
3:52 a.m.
SANTANA: u up?
Text Message
Saturday, December 7
3:52 a.m.
ME: you already know i'm up, you're looking right at me.
ME: what do you want?
SANTANA: I cant sleep
ME: me either but what do you want me to do about it?
SANTANA: Was wondering if u are up 4 a repeat
ME: what do you mean?
ME: repeat of what?
SANTANA: The challenge …
SANTANA: I was about 2 do it anyway b/c Brit is in the mood. But thought 2 txt u 1st n see if u wanted to try n get bragging rights
SANTANA: Double or nothin
The smile that is on my face is devious and it crept across my lips without me really noticing. Before I text her back a solid answer, I glance over and make sure Rachel is still awake. If she's sleeping then the answer is obviously no. But if she's still awake, chances are she's having a tough time falling asleep too and maybe this will help her out… I'll just think of it as doing her a favor. Ha.
Sure enough, Rachel's still scrolling through her phone.
Text Message
Saturday, December 7
3:54 a.m.
ME: challenge accepted. ready. set. go.
As soon as I put my phone back down, I adjust the blanket just to make sure it's covering Rachel's lap completely, then I rest the palm of my hand on her kneecap and curl my fingers over to the inside of her thigh. This is how I always ask her for permission before I touch her. It's like our own little language. Any time I put my hand on her knee, she knows what I want. She knows what I'm asking. And so far, she's never denied me.
Tonight's no different. I know as soon as she parts her knees and opens up her legs a little, I have full control over where it goes from here. That's the way I like it. I like having control. I like knowing that I'm in charge of making her feel good.
Even as I walk my fingers up her thigh, she just keeps looking at her phone. If I was interested in looking over her shoulder, I would just be able to see that she's going through Instagram and liking a bunch of pictures on her feed. But I'm more focused on something else, so her phone isn't really a priority.
She wore sweatpants to travel in and thank god they're loose. If she were wearing jeans or anything else tight fitting, it might have been a little hard to get my hand where it needs to be, but her sweatpants are forgiving. I pull the drawstring until it's undone and she shifts so that her legs are facing me instead of forward, but she never even looks away from her phone. Way to play it off.
I loop my thumb over the waistband of her sweats and pull the fabric away from her skin just enough for me to weasel my hand down the front of her pants. Since this was kind of random, I know that she's probably not totally in the mood yet, so I use my thumb to stroke her through her underwear first. They're that smooth, satin fabric that only comes this silky from Victoria's Secret. Since they're silky, my thumb glides across them pretty easily. But I stop at the soft lump towards the middle of her underwear, and work my thumb in a very slow circle right there.
Her legs stiffen a little and she closes her eyes, but opens them after a second or two as if she just took one long blink. I don't want to take my thumb off her clit. If I could, I would keep it there, nice and steady with my pace, forever. But I need to know if she's wet enough, so I move down a little bit just to feel the fabric a little deeper below. And once I feel that it's damp, that's my cue to go inside her underwear.
The same way I opened her sweatpants is the same way I open her underwear enough to let my hand inside. And I don't waste a single moment, I don't tease her or play with her like I'd usually do. My index finger slides right in and she's already dripping down to the palm of my hand. I think I caught her off guard with the way I just put a finger in, because she gasps softly and squirms in the seat. But she settles down pretty quickly and switches to a new app on her phone.
I usually use my middle finger and my index finger when I'm doing this, because it's the easiest combination of fingers for me to manipulate the way I need them to be manipulated. But if I'm working under pressure and trying to get her off quickly, I use my middle finger and my ring finger because that's the easiest combination for me to be able to reach other places with my thumb. It's kind of crazy how I have my own methods now. I'm not saying I'm a pro at having sex with girls now. I'm just saying that a few months ago, I would have never thought I'd be in a position to have different methods of pleasing a girl. It's crazy how far you can come whenever you're comfortable with your sexuality.
My ring finger joins my middle finger inside of her and that's when she just drops her phone onto the empty space on the seat between us. Instead of looking at her phone now, she buries her face in the crook of my neck and lets out a long, drawn out breath into it. When my thumb goes back to its original job and starts working her in a circle while my fingers back and forth, that's when I feel her lips close around my neck. She sucks so hard that I'm sure she'll leave a mark, but I don't care. For some reason, her giving me a hickey kind of turns me on a bit, so I move my fingers inside of her just a little faster.
She lets out a breath against my neck again and this time, a very soft, satisfied moan follows it. It's a moan so low that only I could hear, but her moans always drive me insane. I keep the pace my fingers are at, but move my thumb a little faster…
"Q-Quinn…" she chokes my name out through a whisper and I feel her teeth against my shoulder next.
"Yeah?" I whisper back just to mess with her. She's biting my shoulder, but I kiss the top of her head and smirk because I can always tell when she's getting close and she definitely… is getting close…
She's hotter inside, wetter and runnier. The palm of my hand is soaked. She's so close, so close, so… close.
She's there. Usually I can tell because she screams a whole lot when she climaxes. It's mostly a lot of moaning, some heavy breathing, maybe a cuss word or two depending on how dirty we're being. And lots of screams. Lots and lots and lots of screams if we're alone and there's no risks of us getting caught. But now, since she can't scream and go crazy like I always love to watch her do, I have to rely on other tells to know she's there.
It's very telling when she reaches down and grabs onto my arm. She squeezes my arm, holds it between her legs tightly, makes it nearly impossible for me to move. If my adrenaline wasn't pumping, I'm sure it would hurt to have her fingernails dug so deeply into my arm. Her thighs close around my hand and she grits her teeth together like she's trying to hold back a scream or a moan. And her hips jerk twice as her legs shake. And when she's done, she finally releases me.
Job well done. I deserve a pat on my back.
I kiss the side of her forehead even though it's sweaty, then slowly take my hands out of her pants. Like I said before, there's nothing about Rachel that grosses me out, so I'm perfectly fine with the way I wipe my hand off on the side of my jeans.
Instead of holding my hand underneath the blanket, this time she wraps her hands around the part of my arm that she squeezed and left indentations on. Head on my shoulder, she closes her eyes rubs the places on my arm that will probably be sore and bruised tomorrow.
While she's still coming down, I pick my phone up again and draft out my text to Santana.
Text Message
Saturday, December 7
4:07 a.m.
ME: done :)
Rachel gently swats me with her hand for telling Santana that I've already made her orgasm, but she light smile on her face lets me know that she doesn't truly care. Which is great because I would feel horrible if she did care. I told her about the first challenge me and Santana did at the sleepover and she didn't care then. She shook her head at me and said "now Santana knows what my orgasm face looks like… that's nice."
It wouldn't be a problem if she did care, though. If she cared, I would simply never challenge Santana ever again. Come to think of it, maybe I never will challenge her again anyway. It's safe to say that I won this challenge because she's still moving under her and Brittany's blanket and she hasn't texted me back yet. I won this time. And maybe it's time to hang it up while I can still brag.
While she continues to stroke and caress my arm, I lay my head against the window and close my eyes, because maybe if I lay here long enough with my eyes closed, I'll be able to fall asleep.
Eyes still closed, I feel her touch around my arm get lighter and lighter until eventually, she stops touching me altogether. And for a moment, I think that she's just settling in to go to sleep too. But I only think that for a moment, because it's not long before I feel her touch me again. This time, her hand finds its way to my leg too. And I'm okay at first. I'm okay as she inches her hand up a little, still okay as it curves to the inner parts of my thigh.
I start to feel myself getting to the point where I want to freeze and tell her to stop or push her away. But I've been practicing like Bailey taught me to practice and I'm really wanting it to work. I want this. This is a good touch, not a bad touch. She stops before she touches me there, and strokes the inside of my thigh with her fingertips almost as if she's asking, "is this okay?"
So I hold my breath, part my legs for her, and decide to take a leap of faith this time.
For a group of kids who only slept about a maximum of three hours on the bus, I'd say we're in pretty good shape. Mr. Schue went to go check us in at the front desk and get our performance ticket, so he sort of left Miss Pillsbury in charge of overseeing our rehearsal… if you could call it that. It's mostly just us goofing off and not taking anything seriously because after only three hours of sleep, Mr. Schue had to do something to wake us up and give us energy to perform.
I think he feels guilty about making us travel late at night instead of early in the morning. In fact, I know he feels guilty and knows that his big idea was a complete bust because when we got here and the bus pulled up in front of the building, he had to go down the aisle to each individual seat and wake us up. We all groggy, practically like zombies, and I heard him tell Pillsbury that he "doesn't know how these kids are going to perform."
After we all got off the bus and filed into the performance hall — which is beautiful, by the way — he came into the dressing room with us and told us to get dressed and that he'd be back. We were all totally sluggish. I mean, it took me at least ten minutes to gather enough energy to take my boots off and I'm not kidding. I was still sitting on the bench inside of me and Rachel's dressing stall, trying to keep my eyes open whenever he came back.
And this is how I know he was feeling guilty about making us sleep on the bus instead of letting us sleep at home in our beds; I know this because he came back with four big shopping bags full of performance crack to give us energy. He turned the bags over on the small couch in the dressing room and let everything spill out, then told us to help ourselves.
There were snack cakes, protein bars, energy cookies, granola bars, Red Bull, Monster, Mountain Dew Kickstarts, those little canned Starbucks energy drinks, Pixy Stix, at least six different kinds of chocolate… it was like a little kid's fantasy with how much candy was there. He didn't have any rules about what we couldn't have, but his one rule was that everybody consume at least three Pixy Stix and I felt like I was ingesting crack cocaine when the sugary powder dissolved on my tongue.
Anyway, I don't know if it was the eight Pixy Stix I ended up consuming or if it was the three cans of Monster I ended up drinking and the one Starbucks drink I shared with Rachel, but I feel great right now. I have all the energy in the world, I feel like I could run a marathon and I'm ready to go out there and kick some show choir ass.
"Q, can you tie this for me?" Mercedes approaches me when I'm standing on top of the coffee table for no good reason other than the fact that I'm on a sugar high. She turns around and let's the ribbon on her dress dangle, and I climb down off the coffee table to tie it for her.
"Nervous?" I ask her as I make sure the loops in the bow I tie are completely even. I like our costumes for regionals better than our costumes for sectionals. This time around, us girls have on dark red dresses made of heavy velvet fabric, and black velvet ribbons get tied around our waists. The dresses are fairly short cocktail dresses, but the trains in the backs of them are long and flowy. The boys kind of match us. They wear black dress pants and neat white and gold shirts underneath of a red velvet suit coat. Their suit coats have long trains just like our dresses and they kind of look like they're our ringleaders. They look like they've been pulled out of leading a circus, which is fitting, I guess.
"I keep feeling like I'm gonna throw up." Mercedes sits down on the makeup bench after I tie the ribbon in her dress and takes a deep breath. "What if Rachel was right? What if she should've gotten this solo?"
"Don't say that," I grab my makeup palette from the desk behind her and cake a little bit of gold eyeshadow on my brush. Mercedes closes her eyes because she knows that the makeup is for her, and I start by brushing a thin layer of gold on her left eyelid. "You're gonna kill it. You can sing that song in your sleep, you know you can. You're just as good as Rachel, stop selling yourself short. The Mercedes I know never gets nervous. She never doubts herself. She knows exactly what she can do." I blow on her face to clear away the excess makeup. "Open?"
She opens her eyes and I grin at her because she looks really pretty. "I just keep thinking about how I botched that note while I was sick. I keep thinking that I'm gonna do it again."
"You won't. Look up." I pick up my eyeliner and start dragging it along the bottom of her eyelids when she looks toward the ceiling. "You're gonna be great. Just pretend like we're back home in Lima, in the auditorium, just doing our thing."
"You mean to tell me you're not nervous?" She blinks about a thousand times once I'm done doing her eyeliner.
"Nah," I shake my mascara up before I use it on her. "I just know that whatever Vocal Adrenaline and Aural Intensity have up their sleeves is nowhere near as good as what we've got.
"I hope you're right, Quinn." She sighs and lets me scrape mascara onto her eyelashes. "Mom and Dad called, I meant to tell you. You were still getting dressed and doing Rachel's makeup, so I didn't want to bother you, but they called. They told us good luck and wanted me to send their love to you."
"Did you tell them we didn't sleep?" I use my thumb to clean up a little piece of mascara that won't cooperate.
"No, I didn't want to worry them. Plus, they were driving so they couldn't talk very long."
"Where were they driving to this early?"
"I dunno, they wouldn't say. Just that they were busy, they loved us and had to go." Once I'm done doing her makeup, she turns around to look at herself in the mirror and her face lights up. "...Wow. I never thought gold eyeshadow would look right on me, but… wow."
"You're gorgeous, 'Cedes. You didn't need my help, it's just a little makeup to highlight how pretty you are." I close all my makeup and put it back into my makeup bag. "Go take a breather and rehearse. I'm gonna go see if Santana wants to run through the dance number."
I have so much energy that I practically skip over to the little corner where Santana, Brittany and Sugar are all sitting on the floor and stretching. Santana never did text me back from the challenge. I think she just didn't want to admit defeat.
"You guys running through the first number?" I ask as I sit down next to them too.
"Yeah, in a minute. We're just stretching first, then Sugar's gonna go get more food and then we're running it." Santana stretches her back by leaning forward and putting her elbows onto the floor. "Where'd your girlfriend go?"
"Her and Finn went off to that room next door to rehearse their duet. She said it was too loud and crazy in here and you know how Rachel gets, so. I'm letting her have her space." I roll my eyes as I'm explaining because I was really annoyed when she first told me she wanted to go off and rehearse in private with Finn. But she kept assuring me that nothing was going to happen and that she loved me so I just decided that fighting before regionals wasn't worth it and I let her go.
"I can't remember if I put deodorant on or not…" Brittany stops stretching all of a sudden like the realization startled her or something.
"...So just go put more on then?" I suggest.
"You're a genius, Quinn." She stands up from the floor and goes over to where she left her bag, and eventually Sugar gets up to go get her food, I assume.
It's me and it's Santana and we have a short moment alone, and if she thought I wasn't going to ask about her lack of texting me back, then she is dead wrong.
"So did I win? I dunno, you were pretty silent after being bold initially, so. I'm pretty much assuming that I won." I stretch by leaning my head down to my kneecap like Coach Sylvester used to make us do in Cheerios camp.
"Okay, okay, I'll give it to you. You won that time." She rolls her eyes at me and sits upright. "It was different for me last night though. I mean if I was trying to beat you then I definitely would have beat you, but it feels so much different now. I mean, Brit's not with Artie anymore so she can be with me officially and… whatever, okay? Don't get used to it. You're still a loser, Fabray."
"Thank you for your congratulations, Santana. It's much appreciated." I stretch down to the other side and groan because it actually hurts so bad that it feels good. "So is that it? Are you and Brit a thing now?"
"I don't know what we are and I'm not really gonna question it. I'm not trying to force anything and make her run away from me, so." She pulls her knees up into her chest and sighs. "I'm happy with it, though."
"I can understand that." I do what she did a second ago with leaning down to the middle so I can stretch my back out. "You guys get your dresses for winter formal yet? It's like, what? In two weeks or something?"
"Yeah, two Fridays." Santana nods. "I think Brit wants to wear a suit. I don't care if she does, she'll just make me look good. I haven't gotten my dress yet, but I'm thinking gold."
"I think me and Rachel are gonna wear blue. Or I dunno, she said something about red. But I don't look good in red, so I don't know. I'm gonna have to fight with her a little when we get back home."
"You come up with a way to ask her to go with you yet?" She asks.
"I came up with an awesome way to ask her to go with me. You're just gonna have to wait and see. She'll tell you all about it, I'm sure. It's just that good." I reply.
"Are you trying to out-lesbian me?"
"It's already been done."
Rachel and Finn have been gone for a while and we go on in like half an hour and we can't run through the first number without them because it's basically just Finn, Blaine and Artie singing the main parts. So since Rachel is my girlfriend, everyone enlisted me to go find her and drag her back to the dressing room. And let me tell you, I never wanted to spend my Saturday morning trying to navigate my way through a performance center that I know nothing about but here I am.
The center is beautiful, don't get me wrong. There are glass chandeliers hanging every twenty feet and the architecture sort of looks like classical Roman buildings. Everything is old and antique feeling and the carpets all all a very rich red. It's probably the prettiest place we've ever performed, and that's including at Hershey.
I have no idea where I'm going. Rachel said they were going to the room next door to rehearse but this place is so big that I don't even know which way next door actually even is. I've been walking for what feels like a mile and I haven't even reached another door, so which way is next door?
Even though Mr. Schue has us wearing a very tiny heel, the heels are still sinking into the thick carpet and it makes it a little hard to walk, so I stop right in the middle of the hallway and take my shoes off. And as soon as I stop, that's when I hear singing. And I'd know Rachel's voice anywhere.
It sounds like it's coming from a room across the hall, so I follow it and eventually it leads me to a door just a few feet away from where I was standing. I press my ear against the door to make sure it's them that I'm hearing, and Finn is singing his part next so I'm sure it's them. I'm sure and I don't want to interrupt when they're in the middle of the song, so I keep my ear pressed against the door and just listen with my eyes closed.
I can't wait to go home and tell Bailey about regionals on Tuesday. I have so much I want to tell her already. First of all, I want to tell her about Frannie and how she came back to apologize to me and about my dad. I don't know how I'm supposed to feel about what Frannie told me, but I know Bailey will have the answers.
Oh, and I also want to tell her about how much she helped me. Even though her idea was initially weird, it helped me out a whole lot.
Especially on the bus…
She waits for me to open my legs like it's a silent confirmation that she can go further and for some reason, I kind of sense that she was expecting me to ask her to stop. I sense that she's surprised when I pull my knees apart from each other and let her go further.
I let out the breath that I sucked in before she started and let my head rest against the cold window because I suddenly feel hot. I think it's a good kind of hot, though. It's the kind of hot that radiates through my entire body and makes me dizzy.
I wore leggings because I wanted to be comfortable on the bus. They're not very tight, but they're not extremely loose either and she's having a tough time pulling them away from my hips, so I help her out. I scoot closer to her, then turn so that I'm facing her a little more. She turns toward me, too and before I get a chance to start reaching down to help her myself, her lips crash against mine. I want to kiss her, I really do. But kissing isn't as easy to just throw a blanket over our laps and hide. So I kiss her pretty intensely for a few seconds, then I pull away. But in that time of us kissing, she used both her hands and managed to peel my leggings away from my skin.
Her fingertips are so soft against my skin that chills race up my spine and make me shudder. Just like she did when I was the one pleasuring her, she burrows her face in my neck and I feel her lips graze the same spot I know she left a hickey on. I guess to anybody else, it could look like we're just sleeping. She's laying with her head on my shoulder, facing my neck and my eyes are closed. You can't tell what we're doing just by first glance.
I lift my hips up just a little so she can move her hand deeper between my legs and as soon as I do that, I feel her index finger. And for the first time, I feel totally… relaxed. Like I can concentrate on how it actually feels rather than how it makes me feel. In this moment, it's just something that me and her are doing together and there's nobody else in my head to tarnish it. For the first time ever… it feels really good.
And I want to moan, which is something totally new for me. A moan isn't something I want to force out just so she feels like she's doing something for me, it's something that wants to escape my lips naturally. It's not like the first time we had sex and not like the time we did it in the shower. It actually feels good and I want to moan and I know what it feels like when she can't sit still because now I can't either. It feels too good to sit still…
When I exhale, a very slight noise comes out of my mouth but I'm pretty quick about shutting myself up. Am I a moaner? Am I a heavy breather? Do I cuss a lot? Do I mumble under my breath? How do I act during sex? I don't know anything about myself in that aspect and maybe… maybe I can figure it out, finally. Maybe when we get back home and we have some privacy up in her bedroom because my parents never let us shut the door, I can figure out exactly what I'm like in bed. This is exciting. This is new. This isn't something I ever thought would happen.
She has just one finger inside of me instead of two and I think she's just trying to be cautious and gentle because she knows this could be bad for me, but it's not bad. It's not bad at all. It's… it's really good. It's really, really good.
I know she's surprised when I start moving my hips back and forth like she always does to me, because I never do that. The two times I let her do this to me were solely mechanical. It was a lot of her trying to get a reaction out of me and a lot of me trying to act like I wasn't completely spaced out. In fact, I know she's surprised when my hips start moving. I know she's surprised because that's when she adds another finger and it feels like… like a totally different experience altogether.
Is this what people mean when they say sex is good? Because I get it now, I totally get it. I bite down on my bottom lip and suck in a deep breath that sounds really close to a gasp. How does she stay still whenever I'm doing this? Is this how she feels when I'm doing it to her? I can't stay still, it's too… oh god, it's too…
"Shit." I whisper to her and maybe I'm a cusser. Maybe I'm the type to cuss during sex, and that's exciting because I am a type. I have a sex characteristic. I have one! I'm not broken, I'm not impossible, I'm not a prude! I actually have something that I do during sex!
I squirm so much that I feel like I might slide out of the seat, and she uses her other hand — the one that's not occupied — to push down on my thigh and keep me steady. I feel like I'm gonna cuss again, especially when she has her thumb moving back and forth and her fingers moving back and forth and her lips against my neck and I…
Feel like something is happening? Like something exploding? Or electrocuting me in a good way?
This is NOT what happened the first time we had sex, it's not even close! This time it's… it's a thousand different things rushing around inside of me. It's me curling my toes inside of my boots and wanting to scream and wanting to grab onto something or bite something. It's feeling my body is on pins and needles, a static kind of feeling all over me. It's feeling a little tighter down there, like someone's pulling a string inside of me. It's feeling sweat collecting at my temple and liquid gushing from me. It's building and building and when it releases I want to scream again and I made fun of Tina for never having an orgasm but GOD, I don't think I've ever had one either…
Not until tonight.
I think she knew that was my first time having one, because she got all nice and gentle after that. And she didn't stop until she knew I was completely done and it was completely over. It was like she wanted me to have the full experience and she didn't want to stop until she was sure I did. She didn't mention how much different I acted during that time, but I know she knew that it was different. She knew it was very different and it was.
Even after, I didn't think about being raped. I just thought about how much I loved her in that moment and how much I'd been missing out on. Maybe I'm still basking in some incredible afterglow, but I really do love her. I love her so much that I honestly can't see myself without her. I don't know what my life would be like without her and I don't ever really want to find out.
Anyway, my eyes slowly open when I hear her and Finn winding down their song. They have a few words left to sing together, but I think it's pretty much safe to open the door now, so I push the handle down and open it slowly.
"You know I want you. It's not a secret I try to hide." Finn takes a step closer to her like they've been doing every day in rehearsal as he sings his last line of the song.
"But I can't have you." Rachel steps toward him too and there's practically no empty space between them anymore, which is okay. This is how we practiced, it's just to make the performance seem more authentic and real. They're acting. Rachel loves me and it's fine that she has to sing with Finn. "We're bound to break and my hands are tied."
Damn, their voices sound good together. They're done singing now, so they have to look at each other for a few super intense moments as the crowd processes what they just watched. That was Mr. Schue's idea. Rachel and Finn stare into each other's eyes, playing the part of forbidden lovers. They glare at each other with palpable intensity and breathable sexual tension, then the lights go dim as we get ready for Mercedes' solo to end out the show. That's how it goes.
But they never rehearsed Finn touching Rachel's cheek… so why does he cradle her cheek in his hands? Real gentle, like she's made of glass and might break. And why hasn't Rachel looked away from him yet?
My heart feels like it's going to stop beating.
Especially when I see her raise up on her tiptoes… tilt her head…
And lean in to kiss him.
A/N: Just curious. Does anyone have any guesses on which three songs they're going to sing for regionals? Hint: They're all from the same movie/soundtrack.