Disclaimer: I do not own anything.
I.
The top of a terrifyingly frizzy head of hair pops into view, as Jacob Ben Israel's beady face engulfs the screen. He tightly clutching a microphone, talking animatedly into it as he barreled down the school hallways. "JBI, here! Viewers, prepare yourselves to hear one of the most salacious sex scandals to hit McKinley High in years. The love of my life, light of my soul, McKinley high's newest halfback and glee club captain, Rachel Berry, was spotted entering a shady motel room with non other than resident quarterback, Finn Hudson."
He circles back to face the lenses, a solemn look etched on his features. "But that is not what broke this fragile heart of mine."
The camera swivels away from the spectacled boy and zooms into Sam Evans' face, as the boy stood idly by his locker, oblivious to the attention.
"No, it shattered into pieces when they finally left the motel room, saying goodbye to none other than Trouty Mouth, Rachel's supposed 'best friend', after participating, no doubt, in a shameless ménage à trois." The blogger gags out, jogging over to the blonde boy. "Big lipped Blondie!"
The taller boy glaces at Jacob with boredom. "I'm not telling you anything about Ra-"
"Not here for that!" Jacob wheezed out, shoving the microphone too close to the blonde's face. "Care to comment on the devastating heartbreak you've caused me?"
Sam glances at the camera pointed at him, turning bug eyed and speechless, and turns back to face the scowling Jewish boy. "Uh, what?""
"You were said to be spotted at a seedy motel with the main star of my masturbatory fantasies and Moobs McGee," Jacob wheezed out, further invading the other boy's personal space.
"Dude, what are you talking about?"
"How long has this disturbing affair been going on?"
"Affair?" The boy in question gaped into the camera. "I dont- wha- I..." Sam stammered, trying to wrap his mind around the things being thrown at him.
"Do you happen to possess a sample of Rachel Berry's DNA?"
Eyes bulging in despair, the big lipped boy yelped. "NO!"
"Perhaps a pair of panties, then?"
Sam spluttered wordlessly.
"Worn, preferably." The short boy prods with a perverted leer. "I'm Jewish, I have money! How much do you want for them?"
"W-wha-"
"I'll give you my house. I'll kill my parents and give you my house."
"Am I being Punk'd?" Sam muttered in confusion, completely frightened.
Jacob ignores the befuddled response and gives a firm nod to the camera. "As they say, 'Denial is not just a river in Egypt.' Stay tuned for more on this sausage filled debacle."
The camera man closes in one last time at a wordlessly dazed Sam, then the footage cuts off.
.
She felt like she had a purpose again. After spending the weekend recuperating with alternating hot and cool compressions, musicals, hanging out with her bros and the littlest Evans, and trying to come up with ways to help her family, Rachel was feeling better, more hopeful and positive.
The idea came to her during her daily morning elliptical workout.
How could she earn some money without having to give up glee club or football? Getting a job was out of the question, her schedule was already hectic enough as it is.
Then it just came to her.
Tutoring sessions, twenty dollars per hour, guaranteed a passing grade!
What better way to help out her extended blonde family than to combine two things she was really good at; school work and informing people of what they needed to work on! Immediately, she had hopped off the exercise machine and set to work on the flyers, which she posted up on all of the school's bulletin boards as soon as she stepped foot into the building.
Only a few people had responded so far - mostly clueless freshmen - but she was praying that would change soon. It was still only third period, after all, and not a lot of people checked the bulletins so early on in the week.
And her poster had Optimus Prime on it, for Barbra's sake.
Who could deny that!
She walked into the Spanish room, heading straight to her seat in the very back of the room, avoiding the looks sent her way by some of her fellow early arrivers who were huddled around a laptop. Rachel pulled out her book and the homework they were assigned over the weekend, and began to go over it as an effort to distract herself from paying attention to her cruel peers.
Rachel barely saw a glimpse of blonde hair, before she was tackled into a tight hug. "Brittany," she sputtered out, patting the cheerio awkwardly on the back. "Hello to you, too." Her attention turned to a perpetually scowling Santana, who was rolling her eyes at her general direction. "Santana, nice to-"
"Let her go, Britts," the girl snapped harshly, holding up a hand to silence the football player as she squinted at her in disgust. "Huh. You know, your complete lack of sex appeal almost had me fooled."
Rachel frowned at the bite in the cheerio's tone. "I have no clue as to what you're talking about, Santana."
"Oh, give it up, Yentl." The Latina scoffed, placing her palms on the desk and leaning closer to the halfback. "Everybody knows about your little twisted relationship with Salamander Lips and Fetus Face."
Brittany was looking back and forth between her and Santana with a conflicted expression. "Rachel, I'm really confused. I thought you were a dolphin," she whispered so only the two brunettes could hear her.
"A dolphin?" Rachel echoed in confusion.
Santana flicked her on the forehead. "You heard her, Berry. Don't question it."
The blonde cheerio looked at her with a muddled look on her sweet face. "Me and Lord Tubbington were pretty sure you wanted Quinn to ride your flipper all the way to the end of the rainbow, but I guess not," she shrugs with disappointment.
The football player licked her lips anxiously, before responding with caution. "Brittany, I apologize, but you've completely lost me."
"Dude!"
The three girls turned to see a slushy covered Sam stumble his way to his seat next to Rachel. He spared a bewildered glance in the two cheerios' direction, before turning to his best friend with alarm written all over his face. "We need to talk," he hissed lowly to her.
"Trouble in paradise?" Santana quipped with a taunting smirk plastered on her face.
Rachel reaches up and nervously tampers with the light green tie she was wearing. It was one of the few ties she owned, she obviously preferred bow-ties, but this one matched the shade of Quinn's eyes perfectly. "Are you okay?"
He shakes his head wildly. "Got slushied on my way over here. People are talking some crazy stuff, bro."
"Will you please explain to me what's going on, Sam?"
"Everybody thinks we're like, in some weird...something!" The boy yelps pathetically, flushing brightly. "With Finn!"
The blonde cheerio eyes the red faced boy contemplatively. "He has girl lips and you're into blondes, I totally get why you would share sweet lady kisses with him," she starts, tilting her head at Sam's direction, "-but Finn has like, bigger boobs than you. And they're super jiggly."
Santana cringes, nodding to herself. "Yup, definitely swallowed a little bit of throw up there."
Rachel gasped in realization. "Are you insinuating that I'm participating in some kind of polyamorous relationship with Sam and Finn?" At the exasperated looks on both cheerleaders faces, she sputters a response. "That- that's completely- who- no!"
"Brillo Pad saw you three morons at a motel- classy, by the way- so don't even try to deny it. That freak's got the pics to prove it."
By now the rest of the class started piling in, each taking their respective seats. Santana links pinkies with a disappointed looking Brittany and tugs her over to their respective seats, near the front with their fellow cheerios, while the football players sat in the middle of the room - close enough to the hot cheerleaders, but not to far away from being able to pick on the losers in cowering in the back.
Quinn entered the room, immediately capturing Rachel's attention. She smiled dopely at the blonde when the beauty looked up and caught her eye, though it was instantly wiped away when the hazel eyed girl looked away from her coolly.
The half back hasn't spoken to the head cheerleader since the football game last Friday. She had assumed that not bothering Quinn with hoards of text messaged apologies would be enough to let the girl forget all about her humiliatingly delirious declarations. It hurt so much to think that the other girl was now back to ignoring her existence because of her slip of tongue.
Rachel puffed out a breath, trying to build up courage.
"Hey, Quinn," she greeted softly as her dream girl approached the seat in front of her.
Quinn looked up with a blank look. "Hi," the girl responded facilely, taking her seat and turning her back to the wide eyed brunette.
With an encouraging nudge from Sam, she tapped the blonde lightly on the shoulder to get her attention. "How was your weekend?" Rachel asked kindly, genuinely curious. As much as she didn't wanna hear all about how awesome Puck's party was, conversing with Quinn was blessing that was more than she could of ever hoped for.
She frowned deeply when Quinn rolled her eyes at being bothered. "Not as good as yours, apparently."
What was she-
Oh no.
"You heard about the rumor," she muttered dismally.
"Rumor...right," the blonde scoffs.
"Quinn, it's not what you think. I- I'm-"
"What exactly do I think?" The blonde girl cut in, turning more fully to face them with a detached look.
"... I don't know."
And she didn't. Rachel could not for the life her figure out why Quinn was reacting this way.
"Look, you don't have to explain yourself to me," she stated with an eery calmness.
"I- I know that-"
"It's not like we're friends," she continues with a nonchalant shrug. "I barely even know you."
The expressionless look on Quinn's face that made her want to throw up. It was so different from the way the blonde's been looking at her since she joined the football team and made her presence known.
With a small nod, Rachel struggled to find a reply without bursting out into tears. "Sorry for bothering you, Quinn," is what she settles for.
The rest of the class was spend with Sam shooting her sympathetic looks while she stared longingly at the girl in front of her, who seemed so much further away all of a sudden.
.
II.
She spent the rest of Monday ignoring the slow breaking of her heart and tried to focus on getting through school. Jacob had seemingly underestimated the power of his blog. The minute they stepped out of their Spanish class, it seemed that everybody knew of the "news". Sam had informed Finn of the situation when they met with the livid boy. Apparently, some time after his third period class, the towering giant lost his slushy facial virginity to some buffoon on the hockey team.
The three ate lunch that day in the auditorium to avoid further jeers and taunting. They agreed to just ignore everything and let the whole thing blow over. Finn swore to keep his mouth shut, declaring that he'd rather have a few real friends that liked him for him and not for who they wanted him to be.
Football practice came, and so did the countless unnecessary tackles she and Finn were subjected to. One good thing did come out of the day though, Coach Beiste informed that she was to be the starting running back for next week's game.
Apparently, after his game winning touchdown, Noah Puckerman -convinced he was invincible- was subsequently arrested and sent to a juvenile detention center after he drove his mother's car through a convenience store window before driving off with the ATM.
Later that week, Rachel was mindlessly slumped against her locker, gaze settled across the hallway, staring at Quinn as the blonde cheerio stood talking to Santana and Brittany. She hasn't spoken to any of the three girls all week, not since the news of "Sinnchel" got out. Personally, she thought the portmanteau the student body had bestowed upon them was horrifying, not to mention a little cheap sounding.
She preferred Faberry. As in, Fabray and Berry, combined.
It was much more adorable.
"I know your secret."
Puffing out a huge breath, she turned to face a smirking Kurt. "I'm in no mood to deal with your cryptic comments."
The chestnut haired boy's smirk grew larger. "Guess what I was up to last night."
"Moisturizing?"
"Hilarious," he responded dryly. "No, I happened to be hanging out with a very cute boy I met at the local record store."
"That's lovely, Kurt, but-"
"So, after going through his collection of designer sweater vests, we were both quite famished. He ordered a pizza and imagine my surprise when I saw Sam Evans's bottle blonde head pulling up outside."
Alarmed, Rachel pushed herself off the locker and rounded on the smug faced boy. "Where are you going with this?"
"Well," he started smoothly, "First and foremost, I thought to myself that it was sort of weird that his parents would be letting him work so late during a school night. And then," he enunciated, "I noticed how... tired he looked."
"You don't- You don't know what you're talking about, Kurt."
He glanced around cautiously, before continuing in a much softer tone. "When he was pulling out of the driveway, his piece of crap death mobile started acting up. I offered him a ride home since it was his last delivery for the night. He tried to refuse at first, but it was getting really late, Rachel. And I-"
"You saw where he lived," she finished for him.
Kurt made a noise of confirmation. "He told me how you've been helping him and his family. How Finn knows about it as well and promised not to tell anyone." He hesitated for a moment, "The money you've been making from tutoring people, it's going to them, isn't it?"
With a small nod, Rachel replied. "You can't tell anyone about what you saw. You of all people should know just how mean people at this school can be. Sam doesn't deserve to be treated as a bigger outcast than he already is, especially right now, Kurt."
"I won't say a word," the boy promised with an understanding smile. "You're a good friend, Rachel."
"Thank you." Rachel smiled at him appreciatively.
The overly coiffed boy regarded her for a minute, then glanced inconspicuously at the direction she was previously preoccupied with. "I never did quite fully believe Jacob, even if he did have 'proof'," he air quoted with a wry grin.
Rachel's brows furrowed in curiosity. "Why not? Everyone else seems to have no trouble believing him."
"Oh, I don't know," he responded airily. "Maybe because you always seemed to have your eye on, ahem, someone else...and the whole joining the football team thing...your atrocious sense of style... the amount of flannel shirts you own..." he listed, ticking off each point on his fingers.
"...Are you suggesting-"
"I'm not suggesting anything," he stated effortlessly. "All I'm saying is, this is your chance, Rachel. Puck's currently out of the picture, and you should use that to your advantage."
.
It shouldn't of come as a surprise.
The three of them had been the subject of everyone's belittling comments all week, the amount of clothes she'd had to place in her slushy kit was almost doubled, she couldn't even count the number of bruises her and Finn had acquired during football practices, and every time she saw Sam, the boy always seemed to have a troubled scowl adorning his face.
From her peripheral vision, she saw Jacob running up to their table in the corner of the crowded cafeteria, microphone and camera guy in tow. Sam clenched his jaw, breathing heavily. Finn tried to ignore the obnoxious blogger, shoving french fry after french fry in his already bulging mouth.
"Rachel Berry!" The puffy haired boy squeaked, leering unashamedly at the disgruntled halfback.
"Do the words retraining order not mean anything to you, sir?" she snapped tiredly, leafing through her salad, not looking into the camera.
Jewfro smirked sleazily at her. "I love it when you're all riled up."
"You are a foul creature!"
"You should see just how foul I am in be-"
"Shut your mouth, bro!" Sam growled, pushing his chair back and standing to full height.
"Don't like other people making moves on your lady, aye, Sam Evans?" Jacob sneered, his gaze focused on Rachel's chest.
The blonde boy glared brutally at the bespectacled boy. "I'm so fucking sick of you, Jewfro."
Finn stood up and placed a hand on the other boy's chest, turning to address the startled Jacob. "Maybe you should just leave, man."
The blogger rolls his eyes at the two bigger boys and turns his attention back to an alarmed Rachel. "You know, if you dump these two bozos, me and you could get together," he purred, leaning closely to the highly disturbed looking girl. "I mean, you're Jewish, I'm Jewish, we should just fu-"
Before the vertically challenged pervert could get another word out, Sam dove across the table and grabbed him by the collars of his ill fitted polo. He angrily lifted him up slightly, dragging him across the table, before throwing him onto the ground. By now, every single person in the lunch room had gotten up from their seats and were all crowding around the trio's table to get a look at what's happening.
Rachel looked on in shock as her best friend delivered blow after blow to the helpless boy on the floor. The camera was still rolling, now capturing the fight going on. Finn struggled to pull back a livid, red faced Sam away from a whimpering Jacob.
"Sam!" Getting over her sheer astonishment over the unexpected altercation, the football player jumped up from her seat and stood in front of the gasping boy. "That's enough!" She asserted with a serious look, after sending Finn a brief thankful nod.
Sam pulled roughly on his arms, trying to get set loose from the giant boy's tight grip. "Fuck you, man! You don't what the hell you're talking about!" He snarled angrily at the fallen boy.
"I didn't think you'd be this possessive," Jacob wheezed out, winded and sore, but otherwise fine.
"Just shut up, dude!" Finn yelped, scowling at the puffy haired kid.
"Let me go!"
"Stop it," Rachel interjected, coming in between them. She turned to her best friend and regarded him with a patient look. "Calm down, okay? Just walk away, he's not worth getting in trouble for," she reasoned.
"No! Rachel, I'm sick and tired of everyone talking about me- about us, like they know us!" Sam stated, calming down slightly, no longer flailing. "What's it gonna take for you to leave us alone, huh? The truth?"
"Sam-"
Wiggling free from Finn's grip, the blonde boy turned to the still recording camera and looked straight into it. "You wanna know what Finn and Rachel were doing at the motel and why I was there, too?" Rachel gulped and looked around the now silently anticipating crowd. "They were helping me distract my little brother and sister from the fact that they don't have beds to sleep on, or enough food to eat. My dad lost his job, we lost our house, and now we're homeless and living in a cramped motel room. My dad works as a dishwasher at some two star restaurant, and my mom's on her feet all day trying to look for more work and a different place for us to live. I deliver pizzas, and Rachel gives us money she makes from tutoring so that Stevie and Stacy can have money for lunch..." Sam blinks rapidly, puffing out a breath. "There's your story, Jewfro." With that, he grabs his stuff and shoves his way out of the cafeteria, leaving behind a silent crowd.
Rachel quickly shoulders her own backpack and follows suit.
.
Near the end of the day, Rachel was leaning against her car, still clad in her dirty football uniform, waiting for Sam. The blonde boy was in the choir room talking to Kurt about something the other boy wanted to do for the littlest Evans. The fashionable boy has been surprisingly sweet and supportive, performing an impromptu song for the both them as the rest of the glee clubbers joined along. Her last two classes before glee club were...odd, to say the least.
Some people actually seemed somewhat sympathetic towards the whole situation, of course, the majority of their peers had easily moved on from all the three way jokes to calling Sam 'Hobo McBieber', but still - it felt good to know that people have your back sometimes.
"I was hoping you'd still be here."
Startled, she almost drops her helmet to the cement. Fumbling with it briefly, Rachel flushes brightly as she hears Santana cackling in the background. Glancing up, she sees an amused looking Quinn standing in front of her, Santana and Brittany lounging against another car a few feet back. "Uh- h-hey, Quinn."
"I got a C- on my last chemistry test," the hazel eyed girl blurts out, glancing away bashfully.
"Oh, well, um," she stammers out. "I'm sorry to hear that?" Inwardly, Rachel curses herself for her inability to converse with the gorgeous girl.
"You're a tutor, right?"
Rachel nods dumbly, admiring the way Quinn tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "I am..."
"So, you can help me."
"O-of course. Yes!"
The head cheerio smiles at her brilliantly, causing her pulse to quicken.
Oh, how she missed seeing that smile on her dream girl's face.
"And how much would it cost me, exactly? To be taught by you."
All I'm saying is, this is your chance, Rachel. Puck's currently out of the picture, and you should use that to your advantage.
Gathering up all the courage she possessed, the halfback stepped closer to the cheerleader and looked up at her through thick dark lashes. "You don't have to pay me anything, Quinn." Before the other girl could respond, Rachel smiled hopefully at her, blushing crimson. "I can guarantee you an A by your next test."
Quinn blinks at her slowly, and gets this look in her eyes that the football player couldn't decipher. "Why would you do this for me?"
"I-I'd like to- to get to know you." When the blonde stays quiet, Rachel blanches, remembering how Quinn had reacted when she tried conversing with the girl earlier that week. "But if that's not something you'd be comfortable with," she swallowed down the lump forming in her throat, "then we'll just stick to learning about the periodic table and-"
"Do you like coffee, Rachel?"
No.
"I love it!" She all but yelps. "I especially love the way it lingers in your mouth for hours after you drink it."
With twinkling amused eyes, Quinn smirks at her lightly. "I'll meet you at the Lima bean, then?"
"I know where that is!" Rachel exclaims proudly, beaming up at the girl.
"How's Sunday afternoon?"
"That's perfect."
"Like you," she thinks to herself.
"I'll see you later, Rachel," Quinn breathes out, her molten gaze staring unwaveringly at the pink cheeked halfback.
With one last ineffable smile, the cheerleader turns away, skirt twirling and raising up teasingly.
Rachel's breath catches in her throat and this time, her helmet meets the ground.
.
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