Quinn woke the next morning feeling more exhausted than she could ever remember feeling. Her nightmare from the night before was so fresh in her mind. Her body was so on edge, she jumped at the faintest sound. It had been so real. She had woken up numerous times throughout the night, unsure of what was real and what was not, but comforted by the feeling of Santana's body cuddled around her own. It allowed her mind to ease enough to fall back to sleep for twenty minutes at a time.
Now however, Santana was not next to her and Rachel wasn't in her bed either. She shuffled out of bed and grabbed her phone off the dresser. It was nearly ten o'clock in the morning.
She had wanted to return to school. She had wanted to feel normal and to get her life back. She didn't want what happened to her to make her weak or define who she was, but within the first thirty minutes she had crumbled. People knew. They were finding out. Even if they didn't have all the facts and there were a lot of fabricated stories, they still knew. More and more people would continue to find out and she'd get the pitied looks she fought so hard her whole life to avoid. Manhattan was not that big of an island, and everyone who went to a particular school lived within mere blocks of each other. It could be much more like what she'd heard of small rural towns, than most people think. She felt her stomach churn and a chill run down her spine as her mind raced. Everyone knew. She was thankful not to be back in school today, but couldn't help but feel like the longer she stayed away, the weaker she was and the more of a spectacle she would be upon her return.
Her stomach growled and she was reminded that she never actually ate anything last night. In fact, she couldn't remember the last time she had eaten anything that she didn't throw up shortly thereafter. She determined that alcohol must definitely make you more hungry than normal.
She looked around the bedroom for she wasn't sure what. It made her incredibly uneasy to have woken up at ten o'clock in the morning on a school day without consequence. Leroy's strict routine earned she and Santana a particularly hard hit any time they were a minute behind or stepped a toe out of line. It felt like a fantasy world to have been allowed to sleep as late as she did and not rush to come up with some excuse as to why she was late or couldn't go to school. Maybe a mother who genuinely didn't care wasn't the worst thing after all.
She put on her robe over her pajamas to keep herself from feeling too cold or exposed and made her way to the kitchen to satisfy the longing for sustenance in her stomach. Her mother was seated in the living room watching Rachael Ray cook up something greasy and heavy looking on tv. She involuntarily stuck out her tongue at the grossness of such heavy food. Between Leroy and Sue, she and Santana were kept on strict diets. Leroy enforced clean eating so they looked a certain way, and Sue so they could perform at the top of their game. As Santana got older, Quinn envied her sister's ability to secretly defy her father and have a good time out with friends without thinking about what she was eating or drinking too much. Quinn hadn't gotten to that point yet and now was unsure she ever would. It was part of the reason she refused the greasy pizza last night.
"Hi Quinn," came her mother's voice. Quinn looked over and saw her mother was now standing at the foot of the sofa looking at her. The woman looked as though she was ready to jump at the chance to serve her any request. "How did you sleep? How do you feel?"
Quinn could hear the awkwardness in her mother's voice as she tried to make an effort. It was a foreign sound to Quinn's young years. Would anyone ever stop asking her how she felt? Was this part of her life now? She wasn't sure she could handle the constant pity. Her stomach growled again.
"Fine," she offered simply. It was far from the truth. She had slept terribly and felt numb, but it would require too much energy and focus to share that with her mom at the moment so she settled for fine. She turned to fridge to take out some eggs to make herself scrambled eggs. More indulgent than egg whites, but still a tasty source of protein she desperately needed to ingest.
"Let me make something for you," Shelby said as she made her way towards Quinn in the kitchen. "You go rest and let me do this for you," she said with hands gesturing for Quinn to shoo from the room.
Quinn held the carton of eggs to her chest to keep her mother from taking them away. "No," she said twisting away from the older woman. "It's really fine, I got it."
"Quinn, you should really rest. Yesterday was overwhelming and -"
"Stop!" Quinn yelled. She didn't realize how loud the sound was until she heard the faint buzz of the television return to her ears. She looked at her mother's crestfallen face and felt guilt. "Sorry," she said genuinely. "I just.. I'm not sick. I don't need to rest. I just need to eat."
Her mother stayed silent but offered her a small smile and returned to her place on the living room sofa. She didn't know why, but she felt sad watching her mother retreat to the living room to watch Rachael Ray cook whatever ungodly thing she was cooking. She wasn't sure why she felt a pull toward her mother as she dejectedly walked away. Maybe it was because her mother had seemed to care enough to crawl into her closet and watch her daughter get drunk instead of harassing her with questions for two minutes. She wasn't sure why she called out for her mother to come back.
"W-We could make them together if you want.." It came out as more of a question than she had intended and she didn't meet her mother's eyes, but not five seconds later the woman was at her side once more.
"I'll find you a good pickle to go with it," the woman said with a wink.
Quinn rolled her eyes but smiled. She didn't want her mother to get away with feeling like a good mother for the one memory she had that pertained to Quinn's likes and dislikes, but she also didn't have the energy to start an argument that would go nowhere. That was Santana's area of expertise, not hers. She poured the eggs into the frying pan and checked her phone to find texts from Santana and Puck. She shook her head at Santana's "Last night was scary. Please let me know when you're up and okay." She ignored it. She didn't want to think about last night. Instead, she scrolled to Puck's text that had come through only five minutes ago.
"Bored of this place. Prob gna bail. U wanna go ice skating?"
She shook her head and replied. "U haven't even made it to 10:30. Is Ms. Dusenbury really that bad?"
His response came immediately. "The government should hire her as a new way to torture ppl. U wna ice skate or not?"
She gave it a thought. There was a calmness about Puck that engulfed her when she spent time with him. He didn't push or pity her and he didn't constantly ask how she was. He just let her be, and it was more than anyone else was doing for her at the moment. Still, she knew Puck of all people should be the last person skipping class. She knew he was bright and had the potential to be a decent student if he just learned to apply himself, but he rarely did outside of glee. She knew she shouldn't enable him, but she hadn't been ice skating in years. It sounded like it could be fun. Last time she had gone, Leory had all but dragged her around the rink because she was too little to maintain her balance. She remembered ramming into strangers as he pulled her around the rink chasing after Santana. She didn't remember her mother or Rachel being present. That night, when she complained about her feet being sore and cold, he'd come into the bedroom with a pack of ice, and laughing, he'd held it to the bottom of her feet, telling her that now they were cold and not to be dramatic.
As she thought more about what the alternative to ice skating with Puck would be, she came up with sitting awkwardly with her mother watching painful daytime television and making small talk about life while ignoring the elephant in the room, or listening to music and reading until she fell asleep and could ignore her feelings again. Neither sounded great, and she wouldn't risk another dream like she had last night. Ice skating it is.
"I'll meet you at Bryant Park in an hour," she typed, and sent the text off.
Puck instantly responded "Sweet" and Quinn's exhaustion seemed to have dissipated. She was now excited for the day and had a newfound energy. There was something to focus on other than herself, her memories, and the phantom ache between her legs that never seemed to vanish. And that something was something fun. She let out a chuckle.
Her mother chuckled too and Quinn realized the woman must've thought Quinn was happy and chuckling at the two of them making eggs together. Guilt threatened to consume her again, but she squashed it down. She would make today good.
"Someone seems happy," her mother said as she transferred the finished eggs from the pan to a plate.
"Just excited to eat," she said lamely as she took the plate from her mother and squeezed ketchup on top of the eggs. She sat down at the island and her mother placed a pickle from the jar in the fridge onto her plate.
"Ketchup too? Should I just leave all the condiments out for you to choose your topping for every meal?"
Quinn was grateful for the light, trivial conversation. She didn't overly engage with her mother. She didn't feel the connection to her like Rachel did and her anger toward her mother didn't match Santana's. More than anything else, Quinn was disappointed. She didn't know how to interact with a woman who constantly let you down save for a few sacred childhood memories.
She finished her breakfast and nodded along to whatever story her mother was telling her. Frankly, she didn't even realize she wasn't listening. She was too excited to get away and get some air with Puck. This apartment was suffocating. It held far too many awful memories, and every now and again Quinn could swear she'd get a whiff of cigar and panic that her father was around the corner and not being held in prison. Everything was better outside.
She tried on several different sweaters, unsure why since her bulky winter jacket would cover whatever she chose anyway, but she wanted to feel like herself. She settled on a solid royal blue sweater that complimented her hair, part of which she had pulled back with a clip. She opted against wearing leggings for fear of what the elastic around her legs and waist would do to her fucked up head. She didn't want to have another episode in front of Puck. Jeans were absolutely not her style, but they'd be warm and more trouble to get off than leggings if someone attacked her. They felt like a safe choice.
Satisfied with her appearance, she threw on her winter coat and Puck's red hat. She was about to walk out the door when she realized she should probably tell her mother where she was going. Sighing and trying to think of an excuse that was worthy of leaving the house for an extended period of time while her siblings and friends were all at school, she trudged over to her mother's bedroom.
She knew her mother must've sensed her presence because she started speaking before looking up. Quinn noticed she had a box of photos open on the bed and some strange old bottles.
"Quinn, I was thinking maybe we could finish up a craft I started years ago," she said. "Santana saw this the other night and I realized it was so old that it didn't have any pictures of Rachel. I dug out my old Nikon and thought maybe tonight at Rachel's show I could take some new ones to add to it. She had a rough night last night and I just..I have to go to this AA meeting today so they say and.. well I thought maybe this was something you and she might like to help me with. A good distraction for us all. What do you think?"
Her mother looked up and again, guilt filled Quinn's every pore. Why did she feel guilty? After everything her mother did for them - or rather didn't do - she still felt like she owed the woman her time. Quinn felt like it was her job to try and make her mother happy again all of a sudden. It was a job she didn't want to have, but she felt responsible for all the turmoil she had caused for their family the last few weeks. Santana was angry, Rachel had concern stitched into her brow with even the most subtle of glances in Quinn's direction, and her mother was now forced to be a mother because Child Protective Services and the City of New York were involved and watching her every move. Quinn knew it probably wasn't something the woman wanted to do. If it was, she would have stepped up to the plate ages ago, wouldn't she have? She's only going to AA because they were making her. For Rachel's chance at a normal rest of her childhood though, and for a chance at Santana's anger to quell, Quinn would take on the job of trying to make their mother happy.
She avoided actually looking at the photos her mother had sprawled out on the bed. She had enough memories in her head, thank you very much. She didn't need to put photographic evidence to them to make them real.
"Yeah, Mom. Sounds good. Looks great," she said holding on to the bedroom doorknob and shuffling her feet. "I'm gonna step out for a few. I'll be back later."
Shelby's head shot up and she took in her middle daughter dressed for the cold winter outside.
"I don't think that's a good idea, Quinn. I think you should stay here," she said. If Quinn could hear inside her mother's head she'd likely hear the voices of Santana, Sue, and Will commanding her to keep her daughter home where she was safe. What none of those people realized though, was that home was one of the last places she felt safe. It was not the football field or the choir room. It was not various trails of Central Park. It didn't compare to the Pierces home. It was not a safe haven.
Quinn continued to shuffle. "Yeah, I know, but I really need air so I'm just going to go..."
She turned away from her mother's concerned face, she couldn't stand the pity, and made for the door.
"Quinn! I am your mother. I'm telling you to stay home," Shelby said with a raised voice.
Quinn had never heard her mother raise her voice. She'd always been too tired, too drunk, or disengaged to reprimand her children. Discipline was solely up to Leroy.
"And I'm telling you I need air," Quinn quietly pleaded back. She didn't give her mother a chance to respond and walked out the door to the elevator. Her mother opened the door to their apartment and followed her down the hall, calling her name with every step.
Quinn's pace quickened and her heart started to race. Suddenly, it wasn't her mother chasing after her, it was Leroy. She made a beeline past the elevator to the staircase. The elevator would take too long to come and she'd surely be caught by then. She ran down the stairs as quickly as she could for all three flights, through the lobby, and out the front door. The brisk air hitting her skin and once again let her breathe easier, the ghost traces of cigar smoke leaving her nostrils. She kept running and didn't turn back for fear of seeing her father chasing her, and made her way in a sprinting trance toward Bryant Park and Puck.
...
Santana couldn't focus. Her head was pounding and Mr. Schue's Spanish class was a waste of her brain capacity. She hadn't slept well since her subconscious kept waking her up to check on Quinn, and at some point in the middle of the night she realized Rachel had spent the night with their mother in her bed. She had woken up with a sob lodged in her throat so ready to explode that it made her chest hurt. The painful class she was currently sitting in wasn't helping.
By 4am she was up and getting ready for breakfast with Brittany because she couldn't lay awake in Quinn's bed any longer. While the circumstances were tragic, she missed the few days she and her sisters lived with the Pierces. Brittany was always right there with unwavering support. Her parents and knew and loved them like their own, how real parents should. She needed Brittany's strength and support right now. She woke up wishing it was Brittany she was cuddling and not Quinn, even though she knew Quinn needed her. Santana needed someone too.
She met Brittany at a diner close to school at 6:30am and the sob that threatened to break open her chest all night finally released at the sight of her blonde girlfriend. Brittany stepped forward and removed the shorter girl's backpack from her shoulder and embraced her. She kissed her on the head and pulled her inside the diner where Santana was able to have some water and calm down. She was grateful that she had told Brittany everything about her upbringing that night at the Pierces, but it still felt odd knowing that Brittany knew her family's torturous secrets, and odder still to attempt to discuss them openly, even with someone as non-judgmental and loving as Brittany.
She told Brittany about the visit from Claire, their mother's mandatory attendance at self-help meetings, forgetting about Rachel's play, and what disturbed her most of all, Quinn's nightmare. She told Brittany how it had scared her how she couldn't wake Quinn up, and even once she was awake, Quinn didn't seem to understand that her dream wasn't real. Brittany, on the other hand, had a magic about her where she always knew what was real.
"Did she hurt herself?" Brittany asked. Her iced coffee sat forgotten next to her. All of her attention was on Santana.
Santana shook her head. "No. No I don't think so, she was just screaming and moving around all crazy," she said reliving the moment. "I... I couldn't wake her up, Brittany. I couldn't stop it. She.. she screamed out my name in her sleep...She thought he was there.. and I-I couldn't do anything."
"I know, San, but you're not a miracle worker. You've been there for her every step of the way her entire life. She knows that and she loves you for it, but I think this is bigger than just you and her trying to survive now," Brittany said sadly. "You're not going to be able to fix everything and you can't expect that of yourself."
"You don't understand," Santana whispered in a low voice. "She told me.. she told me I was the only place she felt safe."
She could practically hear Brittany's heart break at her words. Brittany viewed Quinn and Rachel as honorary little siblings. Part of her felt bad for burdening Brittany with all of this information, but another part of her knew that Brittany deserved it, and a tiny, miniscule other part of her knew that she needed someone to tell.
Santana continued, "I don't even want to go to school. I want to be home with her and make sure she's okay and taking care of herself. I want to make sure my mom goes to AA or whatever, and Rachel is ready for her show.. I.."
Brittany reached across the table and grabbed Santana's hand to cut her off. "Hey," she said. "It's okay. It isn't your job to take care of everyone else."
Santana shook her head and squeezed Brittany's hand. "But it is. I don't know how to make you see that.."
"And I don't know how to make you see that it's not," Brittany replied. She then grabbed Santana's other hand. "San.. I.. I know things have been so hard lately. Well, for a lot longer than lately. Ever since you told me and my mom everything I just.. I realized that you need to know that I love you."
Santana met her eyes unable to speak. Luckily for her, Brittany continued. "As a best friend, yeah totally, of course. But for a long time it's felt like so much more, you know? I always knew you were so smart and so brave and a good sister, but after everything? Watching you with them during all this? I just.. I realized I've been in love with the person you are for way longer than I thought. And I know maybe right now isn't the best time, it's probably definitely not the best place," she said with a gesture to the old, smelly diner, "But, I love you. And I love Quinn and little midge, and I want you to use me. I'm here for all of you no matter what. No questions asked. I know they need you and I'll never take you away from them, but I hope... I hope you'll let yourself have this. Me. Us."
It was everything Santana had always wanted to hear, but also feared. Leroy would kill her if he ever found out she was dating girls, and more than that Santana was worried she wouldn't be able to reciprocate in the way Brittany would need or expect. There wasn't a doubt in Santana's mind about how she felt about Brittany, but despite knowing about her past, she wasn't sure Brittany would fully be able to grasp the world in which she lived. It would not go away. It was who she was. It was too much to expect someone to love that part of her unconditionally.
"Santana?" Brittany prompted.
"Santana?"
It was Mr. Schue's voice now and she was back in this god awful classroom. "Huh?"
Mr. Schue sighed. "Can you conjugate the word 'to play'?"
It took her a minute to gather her thoughts. She looked down in the textbook she had absent-mindedly opened on her desk. "Yeah.. uhh.."
"Come on Lopez, this should be easy. Your family knows all about playing with each other."
She looked over and saw Dave Karofsky slap hands and laugh with Azimio.
"Yeah," Azimio said closing his book, "Ain't your daddy and the HBIC familiar with playing together now? Didn't realize she was the head bitch at home too," he laughed.
The bell rang at the same time Mr. Schuester threatened both boys with a failing grade for the marking period and demanded they make their way to Principal Figgins office where he would meet them. The rest of the class shuffled out the door. Half of them snickering and the other half waiting for Santana to react. Mr. Schue motioned for everyone to leave the room quickly and get to their next class. He closed the door and turned to Santana who was seemingly glued to her seat and staring straight ahead. He sat on the desk in front of her.
"Santana?"
She locked eyes with him and quickly deflected. She jumped to her feet and gathered her books.
"I'm gonna be late for my class," she said attempting to shuffle past him.
He held out his hand for her to stop, making it difficult for her to pass him. She met his eyes once more and saw the genuine care in them. His eyes holding so many questions he knew better than to ask. He was looking for her to trust him and she sighed because he was one of very few people she did.
"How can she come back here when assholes like that exist?"
Her teacher shook his head and sighed. "I will take care of Karofsky and Azimio. Don't give them a second thought. They don't know anything."
She scoffed. "Actually, Mr. Schue, seems like they had a pretty good idea."
"Let me rephrase," he said shifting on the desk. "Don't let people like Karofsky and Azimio get to you. They're willing to start trouble at any cost, even using what happened to Quinn. The school won't stand for it, and I will personally see to it that it doesn't happen again, got it?"
She nodded. She wasn't sure she believed it, but if she didn't get a move on to English, Mr. Simone would surely flip his lid.
"Whatever," she said as she made for the door.
"I stand by what I said the other day, Santana," he called after her. "I'm here for you. You don't always have to be so strong."
How could she make Brittany and Mr. Schue see that they were wrong? Everything would crumble if Santana didn't have it together. She offered him a small 'thanks' and made her way to English, which was the first class of the day she shared with Brittany. Her girlfriend. Who loved her. Whose love she verbally reciprocated this morning at the diner. Whose expectations she would try her hardest everyday to meet, even though she knew her failure was inevitable.
...
"What'd you sprint here? That excited to skate, or that excited to hang with Puckasaurus?" Puck said taking in Quinn's ragged breathing and the sheen of sweat across her forehead that peeked out from underneath her hat.
"Shut up," she said catching her breath. "I just.. never mind." She didn't owe him an explanation and she didn't want to talk about losing her mind. "Let's go."
Bryant Park was aflutter with tourists and locals alike. The Christmas kiosks and shops lined the walkways and jolly music blasted through the speakers. Quinn made a mental note that she'd have to take Rachel back here before the end of the season.
She and Puck laced up their skates and took to the ice. Despite how close it was to Christmas, the rink wasn't nearly as crowded as the famous Rockefeller Center ice rink and Quinn was grateful that if she crashed, it probably wouldn't be into an unsuspecting stranger.
Puck stepped onto the ice first and she was surprised to see he was a natural. She never would have pegged Noah Puckerman as the ice skating type, but he continued to surprise her. She stepped onto the rink behind him a little unsure on her feet. Her knees caved in toward each other and she desperately reached for the wall.
"It's more slippery than I thought," she said nervously.
Puck laughed. "It's ice, Q! What did you expect?"
She joined him in laughter and the freeing feeling that had started to fill her whenever Puck was around, returned. He held out his arm to her and she latched on and they skated around in circles. It was much different than the memory of Leroy hauling her behind him, skates getting lost beneath her feet and uneasiness settling into her bones. Puck was strong and supportive. He helped her find her balance and taught her the proper way to use her feet. Before long, she was skating independently of Puck's support and even racing him from end of the rink to another.
She wasn't sure how long they were out there. She realized that several families and couples had come and gone from the ice in the time that they were out there. She skated over to the wall to take a quick break and watched as Puck skidded around, splashing ice all over the place. Naturally, he was warned by rink security not to do it again. Quinn laughed as he feigned innocence and did it three more times. Before they could yell at him again and throw him off the ice, he skated over to her.
"Wanna get something to eat, Ice Queen?"
She smiled and nodded, adjusting his red hat so that it covered more of her ears. "Definitely."
They each got a hot chocolate and nutella crepe from a nearby stand. If bacon wasn't a weakness of hers, chocolate in any form certainly was. Santana would always sneak her and Rachel mini jars of nutella without Leroy knowing. It felt like such a rebellion at the time, but really it was just pathetic. She shrugged off the thought and took a bite. The warm hazelnut gliding down her throat.
"Mmmm," she said. "That is tastes so good."
She heard Puck make a sound in agreement and looked up to see chocolate completely covered his face like a toddler. His tongue was out attempting to lick the remnants off his face. She couldn't help the hysterical laughter that escaped her lips. They hadn't thought to pick up napkins so he snatched the hat off her head and wiped a little of his face off on it. She smiled gasped in exasperation. "Puck!" she laughed.
"What?" he smirked. "It's my hat." He said putting it on over the black winter hat he currently wore.
"I thought you said it looked better on me," she heard herself saying bashfully. She looked down at the ground afraid to meet his eyes. Afraid her joke might have just ruined their day.
"It does," he said genuinely. She looked up and smiled at him. His own hazel eyes looking into hers. It was too much. She felt him melting her and she couldn't afford to drop the shield she had worked so hard to build for so long. Still, there was something about him...
"I never thanked you for.. you know, yesterday. Helping me." She toyed the chocolate-messed hat in her hands, not caring about the cool breeze that now seemed to rush through one ear and out the other. She welcomed the cold.
Puck shrugged as if it were no big deal, but he didn't take another bite of his crepe.
"It's cool. Cheerios are bitches," he stated with a shake of his head. Then, realizing he was talking to the future captain, "I mean.. not you. You're not a bitch. Just most of them."
She frowned. "No, I am a bitch. It's just.. easier."
"Easier than what?" he questioned. He took a sip of his hot chocolate and realized just how cold it actually was outside as the liquid warmed him. "And you should probably put that hat on. Sorry I took it off, it's cold out."
She didn't hear the part about the hat or the temperature. Nor did she care.
"Just.. easier. People think you're mean so they leave you alone. The only person I have to worry about is myself."
"Sounds pretty lonely."
She looked up at him. "That's pretty rich coming from you. You keep everyone at arm's length. Why?"
"Because people suck."
She couldn't argue with him there. People certainly did. "Sounds lonely," she repeated back at him.
He rolled his eyes. "How about we just agree that people suck and life is hard, but chocolate is good?"
She shrugged. "Fine."
It was silent for a few moments before Puck spoke again. "How's your mom been?"
Now it was her turn to roll her eyes. "I don't want to talk about it, Puck. Please," she begged him.
He immediately regretted his words, not wanting to make her uncomfortable.
"Sorry.. yeah. Stupid. Sorry.," he said awkwardly. "How about your little nugget of a sister?"
At the mention of Rachel, Quinn stood up so fast she knocked the chair she was sitting on over. She put the chocolatey red hat on her head and began heading out of the park. "Shit! My sister!"
Puck threw out his trash and jogged after Quinn. "What?" he asked desperately. "Is everything okay?"
Quinn could feel the tears coming to her eyes. "No. No. No. No. What time is it?"
"Uhh.. almost 6. Why?"
The blood in her veins ran almost as cold as the wind whipping through her hair. Six o'clock was always Leroy's curfew, but more than that it was the time Rachel's play started at the elementary school. How had she been out for nearly seven hours? It felt like she'd only left an hour ago. How did Santana not text her? Had she really not checked her phone this entire time?
"Fuck. Shit. Crap!" she cursed. "We have to go to Rachel's school. I- she's the lead. It's tonight. Hurry!" She picked up her pace and not for the first time that day was full on sprinting back toward the Upper West Side.
Puck had tried to flag a taxi. They'd never make it to the Rachel's school in time coming from Bryant Park on foot. Unfortunately, the weather kept cabs busy and all of them that passed were occupied. As they ran along subway grates on the street, she heard a train pulling into the station. She yelled for Puck to follow her. They ran down the stairs, jumped the turnstile, and just made it onboard before the doors closed behind them.
They were both panting and out of breath, holding onto a pole for support. "You wanna tell me why it feels like we just completed a triathalon?" Puck breathed.
Quinn swallowed the lump in her throat and willed her tears to stay put. No crying. "Rachel is the lead in her school's play. It's all she's talked about for months. My mom and my sister totally forgot about it until I reminded them last night and she was so upset. I... I can't believe I forgot. It starts at six."
"We have four minutes," Puck said nervously.
Quinn shook her head. "These things always start at least five minutes late. That gives us nine." The train pulled to a stop at the station they needed to get off at. "Let's go!" she yelled.
Together, they sprinted down the blocks until the elementary school came into view. She flung open the doors and made her way to the auditorium. Mrs. Pierce sat a small children's desk collecting tickets. Fuck, Quinn thought.
"Mrs. Pierce!" she yelled desperately, startling the woman.
"Quinn, are you okay?"
"I- yes-yes. I just.. Puck and I need tickets. I don't have my ticket and we're late."
The woman placed a hand over her heart on her chest. "Oh my goodness, Quinn you nearly scared me half to death. I thought-" she paused to collect her thoughts and choose her words. "I thought something happened.."
The woman took a ten dollar bill out of her own wallet and placed it in the school's collection box, thus paying for Quinn and Noah's five dollar tickets. Quinn vowed to do something to repay the woman. For everything.
The two teens shuffled into the auditorium and found two seats in the back. She spotted Santana and her mother sitting several rows in front of them. Her mother looked like a nervous wreck and Santana was seething. Her older sister turned around and her evil eye was the last thing Quinn saw before the lights dimmed and the show began.
TA DA! Thank you so much for continuing to read and please review if you can! I hope everyone is staying well. Please forgive any typos. I have no beta and all mistakes are the fault of myself and my computer. Your reviews truly make me smile and keep me inspired. Thank you again!
1992 - Thank you so much, I'm glad you feel that way. It's a long, long road to recovery!
IceK04 - Your review made me smile from ear to ear. I've been waiting for someone to call this out. Shelby IS trying and she does genuinely care about her children. Yes, she is skeptical and unsure about how to proceed, but her children (Santana in particular) are refusing to see it. They need to try and put their hurt aside and give Shelby more of a shot. The question is will they? And if they do, will Shelby remain strong enough, long enough to see it?
KStoryteller- Thank you for your review! Shelby is a heartbreaking character in so many ways. We'll be seeing more of her in coming chapters.
Guest - Thank you so much for reading! Stay tuned for more
Spawn- As always, thank you for the review! Sometimes you have to squint to see Shelby's effort, but it is there and she wants to step up to the plate. However, she will make plenty of mistakes, as will her children, in this healing process. Excited to hear what you think of this update.
Guest - I'm so honored to hear how much you love the story. Thank you so much for reading!