Hello Dear Readers! This chapter has been a LONG time coming. I wanted to do this story justice, and this particular plot point justice. I felt it was too rushed and didn't make much sense last time. I'm hoping this makes up for all of it, especially the long wait. To those of you that continue to come back and read, thank you. Your reviews and PMs mean so much to me. I love to write and love this universe I've created, the characters I've borrowed and those I created. I am sorry it takes me forever to get chapters out. Getting the words out and written the way I see them in my head can be near impossible at times. So thank you for sticking with me and being patient. I hope you enjoy this next chapter.
Chapter 16: When It All Falls Apart
The sounds of dinner—the clinking of utensils on plates and ice cubes rattling in drinking glasses—gave way to an increase in chatter and laughter from three of the four occupants sitting around the table. The fourth picked at her food, having barely eaten any of it (claiming the lasagna was too messy and salad too difficult to maneuver a fork with her left hand), and refused to contribute anything to the conversation. Shelby sighed and pushed her plate away so she could prop her elbows on the table and rest her chin on her clasped hands. She regarded her daughter, the thick layer of sullenness hanging about the girl, and wished she knew why it was there in the first place. The two young women sitting across the table from them were both wonderful, thoughtful people. Shelby had taken a liking to them instantly, and the feeling seemed to be mutual—all except for Rachel. Not that Frannie and Quinn hadn't tried with Rachel, the girl simply didn't want to be bothered. And that bothered Shelby.
Rachel wasn't being overtly rude, but she wasn't altogether polite either. She was walking a thin line and Shelby was on the fence about whether she should call her out on it or not. It didn't help that something felt distinctly off about the entire situation, but she couldn't put her finger on exactly what. She needed more information or something to go on and it just wasn't there. And without that, she had no hope of identifying the problem, let alone solving it.
Perhaps it was a touch of jealousy on Rachel's part. They had had their fair share of that crop up recently regarding family, and maybe that had something to do with tonight. After all, mother and daughter were still getting to know one another and Shelby knew Rachel wanted alone time with her. The girl was struggling for it at the moment, and Shelby was still learning to find a balance. Still, they had had plenty of alone-time togetherness over the last couple of days. Rachel also needed to learn how to share Shelby's attentions.
Or maybe it wasn't jealousy at all, and Rachel was feeling uneasy around new people. Thinking back, Rachel had been unsure of herself around their family at first, worried over whether they would like her or not. She had warmed up to them quickly after the initial meeting, but Frannie and Quinn were different. They truly were unknown—to both Rachel and Shelby.
Yes, that seemed to be the more reasonable answer for Rachel's aloofness. Shelby decided she needed to have a quick word with her daughter to settle her fears when Rachel made it clear she needed a word for a completely different reason. Shelby watched in abject horror as Rachel very deliberately snubbed another attempt at conversation from Quinn. She went so far as to look directly into Quinn's eyes, reach into her lap and produce her phone, and then made a big production of focusing on the device. The girl couldn't dress, bathe, or feed herself, but had no problem navigating her phone with her non-dominant hand.
Narrowing her eyes, Shelby shook off her astonishment and got to her feet. She began to gather the dinner plates, then added to her daughter, "Rachel, help me clear the table, please."
"Mmmm, that sounds like a bad idea that won't end well," Rachel said, her eyes never leaving her screen.
"Rachel," Shelby hissed. She was honestly shocked at her child's gall.
Rachel looked up at the tone and gave her mom a bewildered look—Shelby looked pissed. "I—It's not like I'll be much help…with only one arm?" She gestured to her cast for good measure; the angry glower on her mother's face lessened, but didn't go away fully. Jeez, Rachel thought, it was a joke!
"I don't mind helping, Shelby," Quinn offered, rising from her chair.
Frannie quickly pulled Quinn back down, shaking her head ever so slightly at her sister's confused frown. She, unlike the two teens in the room, understood what Shelby was trying to do. It wasn't about needing help clearing the dishes but rather wanting a private word between mother and daughter. Shelby met her eye and gave her a grateful smile, which Frannie returned.
"I appreciate that, honey, but we've got it," Shelby declined Quinn, noting her daughter's derisive scoff in response. She took a steadying breath, then said, "Grab your plate and follow me, Rachel."
Rachel sighed—she didn't understand why she had to carry her own plate when it would've been easier to just add it to the other three—but moved to do as she was told anyway. Besides, the alternative meant she would have been left alone with the Fabray sisters and that wasn't something she wanted to do, even for a few minutes.
As mother and daughter reached the island counter, Shelby turned to take Rachel's plate and set it, along with the stack she had, down on the granite surface before staring her child down, hands on hips. "You were extremely rude just now, young lady."
"Wha—Mom, it was a joke!" Rachel defended. "I didn't know you only wanted me to carry my plate—kinda silly anyway, but—"
"This isn't about plates, Rachel! I'm talking about how you've been treating our guests!" Shelby exclaimed.
"What?! I haven't said anything to them! How can I be rude if I haven't—"
"That's the point," Shelby said. "You've refused to join in the conversation all evening, regardless of how many times we have all tried. And I watched just now as you deliberately ignored Quinn to play on your phone. It's rude, Rachel. We've talked about this. And I told you to behave yourself tonight, didn't I?"
"I am!" Rachel argued, stomping her foot in frustration. "And I'm not ignoring her, I didn't hear her question!"
Shelby raised an incredulous eyebrow; she didn't believe a word of that but sighed and decided to let it go without comment. She didn't want an argument, only to correct the poor behavior before it could escalate. And there was still the matter of why Rachel was so reticent in the first place. The mother still suspected her child was nervous and the less-than-polite attitude was simply a symptom of that. Even so, she would not let the girl be rude, no matter the reason—but they'd come back to that in a moment.
"Alright, Rach, let's both calm down," she began. "I'm upset about how you just treated Quinn and I do not want to see that sort of behavior again, not to Quinn or anyone else—" She held up her hand again as Rachel opened her mouth to argue. "—but more than that, I wanted to check in and see how you're feeling, what you're thinking."
Rachel frowned and looked away. What was she thinking? She was thinking that her arch-enemy was in her home, having dinner at her table, joking and laughing with her mother, and all signs pointed to this becoming a thing. Rachel wasn't dumb, she saw how Quinn was ingratiating herself with Shelby, and her mother was eating it up! She knew she was done for when Quinn and Frannie revealed their sob story about their parents being killed in a car accident two years ago and how Frannie stepped up to care for Quinn so that Quinn wouldn't have to go into foster care. And okay, it was actually horrific and Rachel was truly saddened to hear about Mr. and Mrs. Fabray's deaths—it certainly made her think about Quinn in a different light (at least for a moment), until she remembered how awful Quinn usually was to her. The worst thing was that she felt bad for Quinn, had sympathy for her, and for the first time ever, saw her not as some heartless bitch who tortured her for the fun of it, but as a broken kid who was hurting. Maybe they even had something in common—Rachel had her fair share of broken and hurting—but Rachel couldn't believe it possible of herself to hurt someone the way Quinn had her, no matter the circumstances.
"I… I don't—It's weird, I guess…" Rachel took a deep breath and then sighed. "I'm ready for them to leave, is all."
Shelby nodded in understanding. So, it seemed both of her suspicions were right. "I hear you, honey, and they won't be here the whole evening—I promise you and me will have our time tonight," Shelby said, reaching out to rub Rachel's good arm soothingly. "But I'm really enjoying myself and enjoying getting to know Frannie and Quinn. I know it can be scary meeting new people and knowing what to say, but they seem like very sweet girls—young ladies. I think if you give them a chance—especially Quinn—you will find a friend."
Rachel groaned and rolled her eyes. Her mother had no idea—and it wasn't like Rachel could clue her in! "What if I don't want to be her friend?" she all but whined.
"Rachel!" Shelby half laughed, half scolded. "You can't know that until you try. I want you to try, honey. Just talk to her, get to know her a bit before you make a decision."
"Mom—"
"Try, Rachel. She's been nothing but kind to you all evening and you're snubbing all of her efforts. Remember what I told you last week—you can't close yourself off to everyone. I understand last time she was over, Lexi was too and they already share a history together. I get that that can be intimidating, but you're on equal footing with her tonight. I want you to stop ignoring her and put some effort in, alright?"
"I told you, I wasn't—" Rachel began, but wisely chose not to continue at the look she was receiving.
"Whatever you may think, Rachel, you absolutely were ignoring her not five minutes ago. At this point, I don't care if it was intentional or not, it stops now." She gave her girl a stern look, making sure she had her full attention. "And before that, you were this close—" Shelby held her thumb and index finger a hair apart, "—to being rude in my book. And you know what will happen if you are rude, don't you?"
Rachel's face grew hot and she took an involuntary step backwards. She knew exactly what would happen—her mother's warning from the weekend echoed in her head. She had no desire to be a part of any conversation that would include talking points over a maternal lap, thank you very much!
"Rachel," Shelby prompted, raising her eyebrow for added effect, "Do I need to remind you what will happen?"
"Wha—? Yes, I—I mean no! No, Mo—uh—ma'am. No, ma'am. You don't," Rachel stumbled over her words. Her face was burning at this point and no doubt bright red, and she shifted her feet uneasily, purposefully avoiding catching her mother's eye.
Shelby took pity on her girl and her stance softened. "I love you, Rachel," she affirmed, her tone gentle. "You need to learn how to conduct yourself around others, especially when things aren't going your way. I'm here to help you with that and steer you in the right direction, but I won't let you get away with deliberate wrong-doing; there will always be consequences. Do you understand?"
Rachel sighed and nodded. "Yes, ma'am…I understand."
Shelby stepped forward, reaching a hand out to lift her daughter's chin. Meeting sad eyes, she gave the girl a warm smile. "You are a good girl, Rachel Barbra Corcoran. You've got a big heart and so much love to give. I need you to let your guard down just a bit and let others see how amazing you are."
"You have to say that—you're my mother," Rachel whined.
"Doesn't make it any less true, sweetheart," Shelby answered, leaning forward to press a kiss to Rachel's forehead.
Back in the dining room, Quinn glared at her big sister. "Shelby probably thinks we're rude now. We should be helping clean up and we're just sitting here," she grumbled.
Frannie laughed and shook her head. "We should stay exactly where we are. They'll be back in a few minutes."
"Well, it's all your fault if Shelby doesn't invite us back for having bad manners," Quinn insisted.
"Relax, Quinnie," Frannie soothed. "Shelby's not gonna think that."
"How do you know? I really like her, Fran…she reminds me of Mom." Quinn smiled sadly. Yes, Shelby was a lot like her mother and it was comforting. Not that Shelby would ever replace her mom or even come close to that sort of figure in her life, not now—certainly not with the Rachel of it all—but it was nice to dream. "I want her to like me—us—too."
"I know," Frannie sighed. She liked Shelby too. And she was very much like Judy Fabray. So much, in fact, that Frannie had recognized the look on Shelby's face immediately. She knew, even without knowing the woman that well, that Shelby had wanted to talk to her daughter alone for a minute. She knew because Frannie had experienced that same look from her own mother countless times growing up; it was the look that said 'you're about to step over the line and it's time I rein you back in'. Frannie understood that, just as she understood that Quinn didn't. Not wanting to tip her sister off that Rachel was more-than-likely being scolded in the next room, Frannie simply said, "I think Shelby just wanted a minute alone with Rachel and used the dishes as an excuse, that's all. No big deal, okay?"
Quinn frowned as she turned Frannie's words over in her head. Why would Shelby want to talk to Rachel alone unless… "Do you think Rachel's in trouble?" she asked. Rachel had been mostly silent the entire evening; when asked a direct question, her answers were always short, but Quinn wouldn't consider them rude. She only really came close to it just before, when Quinn tried to talk to her about movies she liked and Rachel pulled out her phone instead of answering. Part of Quinn was ticked off—she really was trying to be nice to Rachel and get to know her—but she couldn't really blame her either, she guessed. Rachel's reply to Shelby asking for her help was snarky, though Quinn saw the startled look on the smaller teen's face; she thought Rachel had probably been trying for funny and it hadn't come out that way. She knew that struggle, having difficulty in that department as well. Her only saving grace was that Frannie always let her sass slide and didn't comment on it; if her mother was still alive, Quinn was under no illusion that she would be in trouble—and probably nursing a sore behind.
Frannie silently groaned; so much for not clueing her sister in. "Well, if she is, we're not going to embarrass her by letting on that we know. You wouldn't like it if the tables were turned, would you?"
"I'm not going to say anything," Quinn objected.
"I didn't think you would…just reminding you," said Frannie. "Rachel seems like a good kid—nice—just out of sorts at the moment. It's gotta be a weird experience for her right now, moving in and getting to know her mom and that mom being famous on top of everything else. We need to be patient with her; I don't think any of it is personal."
Quinn nearly choked on her sip of water; if only Frannie knew how personal it actually was—not that she was going to tell her! Her sister had a point though—Quinn did need to be patient with Rachel. Maybe the two of them could be friends after all, Quinn just needed to put the effort in. Besides, Rachel wasn't all that bad, not really. There was potential there—and, making a friend in Rachel automatically meant getting closer to Shelby.
"Alright, go join Frannie and Quinn again. I'll be right there, as soon as I'm done loading the dishwasher," Shelby told her girl.
"Wha—No, I…I…Shouldn't I help you, at least?" Rachel was grasping at straws and she knew it.
"No, you were correct before—you really won't be much help with one good arm. Now go. I'll be five minutes, if that," Shelby answered.
"But—"
"Tell you what," Shelby offered, "Go get them and then take Quinn downstairs and find something to do with her. Watch a show, play a game, listen to music—something. I'll entertain Frannie for a bit and then we'll have dessert."
Rachel's eyes bulged. "W-Wait!" she squeaked. "I don't want to—"
"Enough, Rachel. Go get Quinn and go downstairs. Half an hour and then I'll call you for dessert," Shelby said, turning her child in the right direction. The girl needed a gentle, guiding hand (both figuratively and literally) to help her with the first step…and perhaps something more. No sooner had Shelby's hand withdrawn from Rachel's shoulder, having given her an encouraging nudge, than it fell to deliver a crisp swat to an unsuspecting bottom. "Behave," was all she offered in response to the girl's glower.
Despite the glare she threw over her shoulder, Rachel hurried towards the dining room—though that had more to do with her desire to put distance between herself and Shelby's hand than any urgency to comply with the woman's directions. The swat wasn't the hardest she had ever gotten and any other time, wouldn't have fazed her much at all. The sting was present, but already fading—the real pain came from the unfairness of it all and the fact that it was a direct result of Quinn Fabray's presence inside her home.
Open Arms * Open Arms * Open Arms
As the week wore on, Rachel had seen Quinn more in just a few days than she ever had during the entire year at school. It seemed every time she turned around, Quinn was just there. It was driving Rachel nuts!
She was there, of course, that Tuesday, ingratiating herself with Rachel's mother and playing her role of perfect girl-next-door and orphan exceptionally well. She was there the very next evening, returning the now-clean Pyrex container that had held leftover lasagna. And that Friday she was inexplicably there, ready and waiting as Shelby and Rachel pulled up with a trunk-full of groceries and offered her help. Shelby was just singing her praises of Quinn after that, so much so that Rachel snapped at her that evening and earned herself an early bedtime for her "attitude".
On Saturday, Rachel woke up and went downstairs in search of her mother, only to find the woman out in the driveway holding a coffee mug and happily chatting with Frannie. Quinn wasn't part of that meeting, fortunately, but it was clear that Shelby was quickly becoming friends with the older Fabray sister. It was all but cemented when Shelby told Rachel upon reentering the house that she had invited Frannie and Quinn over the next day for the Sunday family dinner.
"Isn't that supposed to be, you know, family time?" Rachel had asked flippantly. She was rewarded with a firm pop and warning to knock it off.
"Why are we doing it here again anyway?" she complained. "I thought it was normally at Nana and PopPop's."
"It is but Nana and PopPop have helped me out so much recently with us moving back, and Pop is still letting me use his car while I figure out the kind I want. I wanted to do something nice for them and this way they don't have to worry about all the work that comes with hosting the family every weekend," Shelby had explained. "Besides, it's only gonna be them and Jack and Sarah and the kids. Everyone else has something going on. So you and your cousins can hang out with Quinn while the rest of us talk about boring adult topics."
Rachel's grandparents were first to arrive on Sunday, showing up at eleven (the scheduled time was supposed to be one o'clock), but it wasn't so bad. Shelby stole away with her father, wanting to pick his brain on all of her recent car research, leaving Rachel and Diane to their own devices. It didn't take long before Rachel convinced her grandmother to watch Funny Girl, and that's what Jack and his family walked in to almost two hours later. Rachel was dismayed to discover that her eldest cousin JJ wasn't with them (he had been called in last minute at the arcade where he worked), leaving Lexi as the only buffer once Quinn showed up.
She couldn't help but smile as her cousin flopped down on the sofa next to her, earning a scolding from their grandmother. Lexi rolled her eyes at Rachel and they burst into a fit of giggles. It felt good to laugh and not worry about anything but enjoying the company of her family at the moment. And she could enjoy their company now that she and her mom were getting more time to be a family of two.
Sarah joined them on the sofa to finish up the rest of the movie, while Jack went in search of his father and sister to 'talk shop'. Rachel settled in against the couch cushions again, feeling content and like this might not turn out to be such a bad day after all, when the doorbell rang and soured her good mood.
Shelby hurried into the room then, motioning for Diane and Sarah to keep their seats; Rachel was rising not for the door but to make a quick escape. She groaned as her grandmother pulled her back down beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
"What's wrong, love?" Diane asked, moving her hand to rub her granddaughter's back.
"I—I have to use the bathroom," Rachel answered, seeing her opportunity. She could hear her mother opening the door. It was now or never.
In a flash, the tiny brunette was off the sofa and darting for the hallway and the stairs. Her right foot was just about to land on the very first step when she felt a tug on the back of her t-shirt and she was spun around.
"Whoa, Rach! Where do you think you're going?" Shelby asked, already knowing the answer. Oh, sure, she didn't know what specifically her child's excuse was going to be, but excuse it was. The girl was trying to sneak off to avoid their company, and Shelby wasn't going to have any of that.
"Mom," Rachel whined, her eyes flicking behind her mom's shoulder to the two young women standing in the doorway, and then back to meet hazel. "I have to go to the bathroom." She gritted her teeth and tried (and failed) to slip out of her mother's grasp.
"Mmmhmm," Shelby hummed, quirking an eyebrow knowingly. "There's a powder room right down the hall for this very reason, Rach."
"But—"
"Go," Shelby ordered, turning Rachel by the shoulders and giving a nudge to get her moving. She watched her child slink off, meeting the backward glance with a level look—it said 'I'm on to you and you better go into that bathroom and not turn right like I know you want to so you can sneak into the basement away from everyone'. It took all of her self-control not to smile or laugh at her daughter's answering growl as she stormed off into the powder room. The door shut with a slam and Shelby finally turned back to her guests still waiting inside the doorway. "Come on in, ladies. I'll introduce you to everyone."
Rachel seethed in the confines of the powder room, waiting an appropriate amount of time so as to be convincing (she was, after all, a dedicated actress, and, backfired plan or no, she was going to see it done right), then flushed and washed her hand. Easing the door open, Rachel stuck her head out and checked the hallway, then listened for her mother's voice. She was hoping that if she could determine Shelby's whereabouts without being spotted herself, a second attempt at escape would prove successful.
Shelby watched from just inside the archway to the dining room, with equal parts amusement and exasperation, as her daughter cracked the bathroom door open and peered out. The mother had been anticipating another Houdini act (hence her current hiding place), but seeing the attempt play out in front of her, with every bit of Rachel's flair for the dramatic, was too much. Rolling her eyes, Shelby moved into the open the same time her child did from the bathroom.
"AH! Holy shiiii—Mom!" the girl shrieked when a hand fell on her shoulder, then spun to face her attacker. Her good hand flew to her chest and she took a deep breath to calm herself; she could feel her heart pounding against her palm.
Shelby frowned at her teenager, but otherwise let the language go (the girl had been surprised, after all). Instead, she steered her into the kitchen where their guests had now congregated and kept hands on the small shoulders to make sure she remained there.
"Hi Rach!" Frannie greeted with a wide grin.
"Hi," Rachel returned, her smile not quite as big, but friendly. She liked Frannie; if only she didn't come attached to Quinn fucking Fabray.
Speaking of, Rachel didn't immediately see the blonde—or Lexi for that matter. Then movement from the sunroom caught her attention and there they were, conferring quietly with one another and giggling. A surge of jealousy welled inside Rachel's chest as she narrowed her eyes at the pair.
Laughter and chatter could be heard all around the kitchen and surrounding rooms. It was only Rachel that felt out-of-place and sullen. How sad was that?! She couldn't even be comfortable in her own home! Anger bubbled up to join jealousy, twisting and turning in an intricate dance, their edges blurring, entangling, until they were one—stronger and more heated than they ever were apart.
Quinn could feel the eyes on her. She glanced over her shoulder and sure enough, there was Rachel staring—glaring—back at her. She sighed. Things with Rachel were tense, to say the least. It was clear to her that Rachel hadn't said anything to Shelby about their shared history, and, judging by the number of times Quinn had seen Shelby pull Rachel off or whisper in her ear when she herself was nearby, Rachel wasn't going to. But things couldn't keep going this way forever. Rachel was near the boiling point—Quinn could see (and feel) the smaller girl's anger and resentment. She couldn't even deny her right to it—Quinn hadn't been nice to her in school. Okay, she'd been downright mean, maybe even cruel. Not often, only a handful of times, but that was more than enough.
It all started as an initiation rite for the Cheerios. The new recruits were expected to prove themselves worthy of the title and uniform. Cheerios were gods amongst men—superior, powerful, and above all else, ruthless to any not from their realm. So it came as no real surprise that the newbies were tasked with pranking (read: terrorizing) the general student body that very first week of school. There were no guidelines or limitations on what could or should be done, and only one rule—Don't. Get. Caught.
The better the prank, the more public, the better the reputation for the newcomer. Truly epic escapades may even garner the attention—and favor—of the Cheerios coach, the one and only Sue Sylvester. Sue was vicious. She stalked the halls of the school, leaving a wake of terror and destruction everywhere she went. Her victims were students and faculty alike.
Quinn hated Sue…but she loved cheer. It was quite the conundrum. And what ultimately led her to the slushie machine in the cafeteria. She wanted something that would be quick and relatively harmless, but would offer a high return. As far as she knew, no one else had ever tossed a slushie in another student's face, and certainly not in front of a packed cafeteria.
She hadn't set out to slushie Rachel, the girl had just been in the wrong place at the right time. Quinn could still recall the absolute shock, confusion, anger, and finally, abject sorrow that played across Rachel's face as the icy cherry drink hit her dead on. The girl ran from the cafeteria, laughter and taunts following her down the hall and out of sight. The cherry slushie marked her that day, its stain a permanent smear on her reputation. No amount of Clorox in the world could bleach out the red target Quinn had placed on her back.
Quinn gained her own target that day, drawing the eyes of everyone who was anyone, most notably Sue Sylvester. "I like your zeal, Fabray. You have guts and panache. You remind me of a young Sue Sylvester. You will go far with me, Q, just do exactly as I say and never piss me off. Got it?" Sue had said when she called Quinn to her office immediately following the slushie incident. Quinn had nodded, not knowing what else to say to her coach; she hadn't appreciated being compared to that witch but knew any favoritism from Sue would serve her well. "Then welcome to the team, Captain," Sue had said before dismissing her. Quinn had left that office feeling numb. Never had a freshman been made Head Cheerio, yet here Quinn was in that top spot.
The team's reaction to the news was mixed. Fellow freshmen Santana Lopez and Brittany Pierce, as well as most of the sophomores and even a handful of juniors, were ecstatic at the announcement. For the underclassmen it meant upward mobility—one of their own was cheer captain and that could only improve their own statuses and popularity. For the outlier juniors, it was a buoy, a lifeline—maybe their last and only chance at a better, more visible spot on the team that could gain them the attention of the scouting coaches and hopefully, a ticket out of Lima, Ohio. The rest of the team—the seniors, majority of the juniors, and a few power-hungry sophomores—were furious. They had all been jostling for prominence and power themselves and Quinn swooped in and stole it from them. Quinn hadn't even wanted it, but there was nothing she, nor any of the others, could do about it. Sue's word was law and they all had to accept it, however begrudgingly.
The only one who didn't accept it was Harper Daniels, a complete bombshell of a sixteen-year-old. She was the worst of the power-starved sophomores, a pretentious, sadistic creature who reveled in her cruelty. She idolized Sue Sylvester and had been Sue's favorite (until Quinn), and even that hadn't saved her from incurring the wrath of the woman. Her fall from grace had been brutal, meant as an example for anyone else foolish enough to question the divine genius of their leader. Harper, of course, laid the blame solely on Quinn's shoulders and dogged the younger girl the entire year, just waiting for her to fail.
Quinn, understanding how precarious her position was and how lethal even a small mistake could be, threw herself headfirst into the role of resident Head Bitch, playing her part exceptionally well. She wasn't exactly proud of herself for the things she did and said, but she only had to keep the ruse going for the first few weeks until her reputation truly preceded her. After that she had been able to sit back and let the others do most of the dirty work for her, involving herself only every so often to keep her image fresh.
Though, come to think of it, every time Quinn involved herself had also involved…Rachel. Quinn grimaced and looked away from the piercing gaze all but boring into her from across the room. She needed to up her game—not only did she need patience and perseverance, but an apology probably wouldn't go amiss either. Yeah, she had her work cut out for her if she wanted to make amends—and make friends—with Rachel.
"Yo, Quinn. Hello?" Lexi waved her hand in front of the other blonde's face, startling her. Hazel eyes met her blue and she raised her brows in question. "Where'd ya go?" she teased.
"Sorry," Quinn offered with a sheepish expression. "What were you saying?"
"I was saying, it's awesome you and your sister were invited to the sacred Sunday dinners—means you're elite. Only other outsider that's ever been allowed is Sasha Montgomery and that's because she and Shelby were roommates in college and Sasha's home life wasn't that great, you know? So Nana and Pop took her under their wing. She's honorary now…guess you guys are too. So, dinner the other night went well?"
Quinn's brow furrowed as she took in her friend's words—that was a lot of information to take in. First, did that mean Quinn and Frannie were special in Shelby's eyes…or did she feel pity for the orphaned sisters? Did Quinn even care? If it got her more time around Shelby, did it really matter why? Second, Lexi knew Sasha Montgomery? Had she met her before? Must have, the way she spoke so familiarly. Quinn didn't know much about Sasha—she wasn't as popular as Shelby, but famous enough in her own right, she supposed. Still, it would be pretty cool to meet her, if the chance ever arose—one more reason to befriend Rachel.
Shaking her head, Quinn refocused on her friend. "Uh, I don't know that 'well' would describe it," she said, and went on to explain the evening briefly.
"I think it probably takes Rach a while to warm up. She was a bit shy in front of all of us at first, and we're family. I'm sure it's harder for her with you…especially you going to her school. You really didn't know her before any of this? You must have seen her around school, right?"
Quinn's eyes flicked to Lexi's in alarm. Had Rachel told the girl something? She couldn't have—Lexi would have said something if she had, right? They were friends…but Lexi was Rachel's cousin. She'd automatically be loyal to Rachel…wouldn't she? Was she testing Quinn?
Not seeing any sign of distrust or judging on Lexi's part, Quinn relaxed a bit. Still, she'd have to be cautious. Choosing her words carefully, she said, "No, not really. We aren't exactly in the same circle, you know?" Not an outright lie, but certainly not the truth either.
"Yeah," the other blonde agreed. Then she smiled at Quinn. "She's really cool once you get to know her. She's just hesitant around new kids…between us, she doesn't have any friends. School sounds like a hard place for her—she gets picked on a lot. So, it'd be good for her to have someone like you on her side."
"I'm…not sure she would agree with you," Quinn revealed, her stomach churning with the unfamiliar sensation of guilt—at least when it came to Rachel.
"Just be patient with her. And I'm here as buffer—I'll help!" came Lexi's confident response. Then, spinning towards the kitchen, she called, "Hey Rach!"
Jack chose that exact moment to enter the house through the sliding door in the sunroom, the smell of charcoal wafting in after him. He ruffled Lexi's hair as he passed, laughing at his daughter's answering, "Jerk!"
"Brat!" he called over his shoulder, moving into the kitchen. He met his wife's knowing smirk and winked at her. She rolled her eyes back, but Jack didn't miss the quirk at the corners of her mouth. "Grill's ready."
Shelby gave Rachel's shoulders a brief squeeze before releasing her hold. "The girls want you," she said and wasn't surprised when Rachel turned to stare up at her, eyes pleading. Shelby sighed internally, her frustration at her child's increasingly anti-social behavior reaching its peak. Was this another case of jealousy on Rachel's part? If so, the girl needed to learn to get over it. If not…well, Shelby couldn't even begin to think what it could be. Hoping whatever it was would work itself out, she pushed Rachel forward. "Go on," she prodded, her hand moving to add its own encouragement to a denim-clad bottom.
Rachel had barely left her mother's hands than Lexi's were reaching for her, linking arms with her left on the way to the basement entrance. There Lexi was stopped by Jack asking for help carrying the meat out to the grill. Lexi grinned and pushed Rachel ahead of her. "You and Quinn go, I'll be there in a sec!" she said as she changed directions. Rachel groaned and came face to face with Quinn. Her eyes then met her mother's and, cornered, she made the only choice she could: downfall.
Descending the stairs, Rachel wondered if she should have sent Quinn down them first—less chance of her being pushed down them, certainly. She quickened her pace, not liking having her enemy behind her back, and nearly tripped down the last few steps. She turned in time to see the blonde reaching for her out of her peripheral and sidestepped her with a fierce glare.
Quinn sighed and held her hands up in surrender. Here she was just trying to keep the smaller teen from falling on her face, and she gets a death stare for her trouble. Silently scolding herself, her inner voice reminded her to be patient. Getting annoyed with Rachel right off the bat wasn't going to help anything. Instead, she took a calming breath and tried again; this was her chance to make it right with Rachel, while the two had a moment alone together.
"So, uh…Look, Rach—"
"Don't call me that!" Rachel hissed.
"What?"
"Rach. Don't call me that," Rachel repeated.
"Oh, uh, okay—sorry. I heard everyone call you that and figured—"
"Well don't. That's a name reserved for friends and family, and since you are neither," Rachel trailed off, eyeing the blonde with contempt.
"Jeez, okay. I get it. I was just trying to be nice," Quinn groused. And she really was trying. Rachel was the one with the attitude, glaring at her with that 'look at that bitch eating crackers' expression on her face.
"I didn't think that was in your repertoire, Quinn," Rachel sneered.
"Doesn't seem to be in yours right now either," Quinn bit back, then let out a groan. Rachel opened her mouth to retort but Quinn spoke up before she could get a word in. "Wait. Look, this isn't…I-I'm trying to apologize to you here, Rachel. I'm sorry, okay? For everything. I'm sorry. Can't we…can't we start over? Bury the hatchet?"
Rachel stared at her incredulously. Bury the hatchet, Rachel seethed. In her back, maybe! "Fuck you!"
Quinn recoiled as if she'd been slapped. Anger flared and her brain flitted through a plethora of nasty responses. Who the hell did Rachel think she was, talking to her that way? Then reality hit her, and with it, ice-cold guilt. "Okay…Okay, I deserve that," she admitted out loud. "I really am sorry for how I've treated you, Rachel."
"No you aren't!" Rachel snarled. "I don't think you're sorry at all and the only reason you're pretending to be is so you can get closer to my mom! And if that doesn't work, you think buddying up to my cousin will. Well fuck you, Quinn Fabray! You can take your sorry and shove it up your ass!"
Lexi came down the stairs just in time to hear her cousin yell "fuck you" to Quinn and—what was that about shoving her sorry something up her ass? What the hell did she miss?!
"What the hell, Rachel?!" she exclaimed, shocked and confused by her cousin's outburst. "Where are you going?" she asked, blocking the other teen's way. "What's wrong?"
"Move, Lexi," Rachel said, trying to sidestep her cousin, only to be blocked again.
"No, what just happened? Why did you tell Quinn to—"
"It's none of your business, Lexi! Move!" Rachel yelled.
"No! I want to know what made you tell Quinn to eff off just now!" Lexi stood her ground.
"It doesn't concern you. Now let me go!"
"The hell it doesn't concern me! Quinn is my friend and—"
"You know nothing—"
"I know that Quinn's a nice person and she's been trying her damnedest to get to know you and be friends with you and you're acting like a bitch to her every time she's over!" Lexi all but shouted in her cousin's face. She saw the hurt and betrayed look that crossed Rachel's face but she didn't care. She had overheard her aunt telling her mom (while she was en route carrying hamburger patties out for her dad—not eavesdropping) all about Rachel's behavior toward Quinn at Tuesday's dinner and the other times this week the girl had been near. She heard Shelby mention her confusion and frustration regarding it and suspicion that it was probably Rachel's ongoing jealousy behind it. As her aunt gave a quick rundown of family-related instances, Rachel's moodiness during their own recent hangouts suddenly clicked and made a lot more sense. Now though, Lexi didn't care why Rachel was jealous, she was just pissed.
"No wonder you don't have any friends, Rachel, if this is how you treat anyone who tries!" Lexi finished in a rage.
It was Rachel's turn to stagger; Lexi's words hit her like a ton of bricks. Hurt quickly turned to red-hot anger. Without pausing to think, Rachel swung her left arm out, hand whizzing through the air to land with a satisfying CRACK! square across her cousin's face. "Fuck you, Lexi!" she yelled, taking advantage of the other teen's stunned paralysis and darting around her and up the stairs.
The door opened before she reached it, the heads of several of her family members appearing before her, all with shocked, confused, even angry faces. "WHAT is going on down there?!" Shelby demanded, eyes blazing.
"We heard yelling," Diane's voice spoke at the same time Sarah said, "Is Lexi crying?"
Rachel's heart was pounding with the rush of adrenaline coursing through her body. Her body was a blur as she burst through the throng of adults, ignoring the squawks and shrieks of them calling her name, telling her to stop and come back this instant. She blew past their words and ran, ran as fast as her feet could carry her, through the living room and out the front door. She leapt from the porch stairs, staggering as she landed, still in motion, carrying her forward. Down the sidewalk to the driveway, then the street beyond.
Shelby recovered from her astonishment in just enough time to see her daughter make a break for it out the front door. Following, her anger fueling her steps, she watched with heart in her throat as the girl jumped the front steps, stumbled, and kept on going. "Rachel! RACHEL!" Her child didn't so much as pause, continuing her escape out of the yard and down the sidewalk. Growling, Shelby went in pursuit. Thoughts whirled and anger pulsed in time with the thwack thwack of her flip flops against the concrete as she tried in vain to keep up with the child in front of her. "Rachel, don't you dare—" It was no use; Rachel was too far ahead and showed no sign of stopping. Rachel was a fair runner and wearing tennis shoes—Shelby would never catch her on foot.
Rachel heard her mother calling for her but ignored it. She was too far gone, swept up in her fight or flight response. Her adrenaline was still coursing through her body, pounding in her ears. Her feet carried her faster and farther than she thought possible. She couldn't stop—wouldn't—afraid of what would happen when she did.
Shelby was going to kill her, she knew that. Her mother's face swam in front of her eyes, the heat of those hazel orbs burning her. Rachel had no idea what she was going to do—how was she going to explain herself? She couldn't tell her mother the truth; the thought of her mom knowing how much of a loser she was was too much. Tears welled unannounced and unwanted, stinging her eyes and blurring her vision.
Her feet carried her one block over, then two. Ahead she saw a wooden sign, and beyond it, the colorful roof of a playground castle. Against all odds, it was completely deserted. Rachel made her way toward the structure, a feeling of calm washing over her. Climbing a ramp, she hurried to one of the covered towers and slid down to sit and catch her breath. She was safe here, hidden away from prying eyes. She could collect her thoughts and determine her next move.
A sudden buzz against her bottom startled her and she nearly jumped out of her skin, until she realized it was her phone's vibration. Fumbling to get the device out of her back pocket, she paled upon seeing the fuzzy image of her mother's face across her screen and the flashing bar at the bottom telling her to swipe to answer.
"I'm going to kill her!" Shelby growled, ending the second failed Facetime call to Rachel's phone. Deciding to go old-school, she smashed the button for 'Call' and then held the phone up to her ear. Straight to voicemail. "Just wait until I get my hands on you, little girl," she muttered, finally opening up a text message to her little fugitive.
Come home. NOW.
Send.
Shelby waited to see that her message had been delivered, then sighed when she remembered that Rachel didn't have the read receipt option turned on on her phone. Normally Shelby didn't care—it's not like she had her own turned on either—but in this instance, she wanted to know that her child had read her message. She waited a minute more (or it could have been only seconds, she couldn't be sure) before sending another.
Where did you go? You CAN'T do that.
This time, Shelby saw the three orbs flashing, signaling that Rachel was replying. Then they disappeared. Anger and worry battled for dominance…anger won out.
Answer me, Rachel!
You're mad, came the reply.
"Of course I'm mad!" Shelby said out loud before she could stop herself. Shaking her head, she took a deep breath.
You ran off. I don't know where you are. You need to come home or tell me where you are and I will come get you.
"No, thank you," Rachel sniffled to herself as she read her mother's most recent text. There was no doubt in her mind that she was in a heap of trouble and only making it worse for herself; she could feel her mom's frustration through the phone. She couldn't see a way out of her situation and that scared her. Her mind conjured what would surely be her consequence once Shelby got ahold of her and she most definitely did not want to feel the sting of her mother's hand across her bare ass. But how could she avoid it? Telling the truth was out of the question…but without it, her actions were abysmal at best.
Not knowing what else to do, Rachel tucked her knees up and, resting her good arm over her casted one, she buried her head in her arms and cried.
Shelby waited as long as her thinning patience would allow, then touched her daughter's name. She was shocked when the call was answered. "Rachel? Rachel, where are you?" she asked immediately.
"Y-Y-You're mad!" came Rachel's pitiful response. Shelby's heart constricted at the sound.
"Baby," she sighed, feeling most of her anger dissipate. "I'm not mad, I'm—" What was she, exactly? There was some anger there, but more than that… "—Confused…and frustrated. I'm upset, Rach, but mostly I'm worried now. Please tell me where you are so I can come get you." Her voice was gentle, pleading.
"I d-don't want to be in tr—trouble!" Rachel cried.
"Well…buddy…" Shelby let out another long sigh. Too late for that, little girl, she thought to herself. "You need to come home. We need to talk and…you are in some trouble, kiddo. But I want to hear your side of things. Then we'll—we'll deal with it," she finished lamely. She wasn't going to lie to the child, or sugar coat it. The girl was in trouble…how much more was up to her.
"Don't sp…spank me, Mommy. Prom—Promise me," was Rachel's next plea. Shelby wanted to cry right along with her, the girl was so miserable.
"I can't promise that, baby," Shelby said truthfully, tearing up at her child's increased wails. "You ran off—you know better than that. And I've already sp—" Shelby looked up then and noticed several eyes on her across the room. She cleared her throat and walked out of the living room, into the hallway. "—already spanked you for that," she finished her thought in a quieter tone.
"That's not the—the same!" Rachel argued, swiping at her runny nose with her good hand. "Mommy, please!"
"It's not, you're right. This time was deliberate," Shelby pointed out, some of her anger flaring up again. "And beyond that, you cursed at both Quinn and Lexi—something you are well aware I won't tolerate; it's disrespectful and just plain hurtful, Rachel! You also slapped your cousin in anger—you owe her a heartfelt apology when you get home, young lady."
A sudden spike in her own anger brought an abrupt end to her tears and she was speaking without thinking. "Like hell I—"
"If you at all value your ability to sit down, you will NOT finish that sentence, Rachel Barbra," Shelby threatened in an icy tone.
Her anger vanished as quickly as it came, and her tears began again, with renewed vigor.
Shelby sighed. They weren't getting anywhere this way and it's not like she wanted to upset her child. She wasn't happy with her behavior and they needed to talk about it. Shelby did want to understand what happened between the three girls; Rachel needed to come home in order to do that.
"Rachel—baby—you need to calm down, okay?" she began, her tone gentle. "I'm upset but we will talk about everything and then…Well, I think we both know you've more than earned a spanking—but it's not the end of the world—"
"Mommy, nooo!"
"Baby, I've told you before, I will not let you get away with deliberate wrong-doing—and you've done a lot of that today."
Rachel just sobbed, no longer listening to whatever it was her mother was trying to say to her. It didn't matter. It wouldn't change anything. She knew it wouldn't, even before Shelby had made her declaration. Rachel briefly wondered if keeping her mom in the dark about the situation at school and how Quinn fit into the equation was really worth all the trouble she was finding herself in but…surely the pain of a spanking would be far more short-lived than the pain of her truth being reveled. Her mom would still love her after a spanking. Would she if she knew how much of a loser her daughter truly was?
A/N: Annnnd that's it for now! What do you think of the direction I'm taking this story? Do you think Rachel's feelings and actions are realistic? How do you think Shelby will react? How SHOULD she react? Should she remain consistent in her boundaries and rules (and punishments that go along with that), or should she show some lenience and give Rachel a pass on her behavior?