"Ugh, I think I'm going to be sick," Quinn groaned deeply, slinking down on the couch next to Rachel.
Rotating her head sideways to inspect her friend, Rachel frowned taking in Quinn's noticeably unsettled appearance. "What's wrong?"
Wordlessly, Quinn pointed across the room to the sight of Frannie and Will cuddled down on the love seat, whispering to each other, seemingly oblivious to the world around them.
"That," Quinn said with a grimace and circled the treachery happening before her very eyes with an outstretched finger. "That is what's wrong."
"I don't know, I think it's kind of cute," Rachel replied neutrally and in the same moment watched the infatuated couple exchange a quick kiss, the affection earning a gag of disgust from Quinn. "Yup. Never mind, that is quite unpleasant."
"Try extremely unpleasant," Quinn shuddered and swallowed back the distaste in her mouth, picking up a throw pillow and handing it to Rachel. "Here. Just end it now for me, please."
"What did you say last week about me being the most over dramatic person that you know?" Rachel asked wryly, using air quotes around the adjective.
Peeling her eyes away from the disturbing scene, Quinn shifted her entire body and leaned back against the sofa arm to face Rachel. "It still stands, but what's up with you? I haven't seen you in forever. How was your Christmas? Hanukkah?"
"My dad and I celebrated Hanukkah before the break," Rachel responded, distractedly grazing her fingers across the velvet pillow. "But I spent Christmas here with my mom. It was good, I think."
Rachel might even go so far to call it a success, but she really only has the Thanksgiving Tragedy, as she's dubbed it, to compare it to. Admittedly, it's still difficult for her to wrap her head around the fact that she now had an entirely new family in her life, one that she didn't even know existed a few months ago. But, she pushed the anxiety down, put her best foot forward, and plastered on her trusty show face, determined not to ruin another holiday for her parents, her mother especially.
However, she soon realized that she didn't have to pretend. Or work too hard to feel comfortable. She had a genuinely pleasant time with her mom's family and loved meeting her grandma, uncle, and little cousins. They were as fun and as weird as her Aunt Kim, as kind and warm as her grandpa, as loving as her mom. It shouldn't have surprised her how quickly she got attached. It was easy. Easy in a way where it felt like she's known them her whole life. That the years apart never existed. And after being together with everybody, the more she wishes it hadn't.
"When's your dad leaving for London again?" Quinn asked, jarring Rachel's thoughts.
Rachel exhaled a drawn-out sigh and smoothed out the invisible wrinkles on her skirt before answering, "Early tomorrow. We spent the night in Chicago yesterday and finished sorting out all of his stuff this morning. It was seriously depressing. I feel like all we've done the past year is pack up and move."
"Well then, I hope this next year brings you many long and boring days in Lima," Quinn smirked.
"Yeah, gee, thanks," Rachel laughed, grabbing the pillow and smacking it against the blonde. "But I'd honestly take it at this point."
"Hey," Quinn sat up, inched closer to Rachel, and lowered her voice, "Did you talk to your mom about tonight?"
"I didn't even try," Rachel whispered, shaking her head in the negative. "I realize that you may be under the false impression that my mother is cool; but trust me, she's like a million times stricter than either of my dads. She'd probably even ground me just for asking. Did you talk to your parents?"
"No," Quinn sighed with a slump of her shoulders. "Because same. But it's so unfair, Fran went out all the time when she was in high school. And Santana just texted me, they're all going."
"It doesn't even sound that fun," Rachel replied in an uninterested tone. "Besides, Puck just wants to get everybody together so they can all hook up and get drunk."
"Exactly, there's a word for that, a party," Quinn responded, rolling hazel eyes. "Don't take this the wrong way Rach, but sometimes you can be a total bore. You know what you actually need more of this year? Fun. And friends. You need to learn how to live it up."
"How do you do that? How do you manage to sneak in an insult in almost every single conversation we have?" Rachel snarled, but found herself somewhat agreeing with Quinn's points.
All she's done recently is focus on glee club and the never-ending family things that came up. She knew that the New Directions were warming up to her, but at the end of the day, she did still feel like the new kid, slightly uncomfortable, and still trying to find her place. If she were being honest, she could put in more effort. She could probably fixate less on how well her teammates were singing and more on how well they were actually doing. She knows she should work harder to foster her relationships; if nothing else, but to help build a more cohesive and connected team.
"Fine, but even if we did go, how do we get past all of this?" Rachel questioned, gesturing to the living room and kitchen full of their families, who were all currently over at her grandparents' house to ring in the New Year. "There's no way our moms will let us go. Noah's parents aren't going to be there."
Not to mention the fact that her mother has been… hovering recently. Rachel's not entirely sure why, but Shelby hasn't let her out of her sight and has been intensely preoccupied with, well, her as of late.
"Valid point," Quinn conceded. She wanted to go the party, but not enough to condemn herself to a death wish. The Judy Fabray and Shelby Corcoran barrier was not one she was willing nor brave enough to cross just yet. "I still wish we could go. We're literally going to be the only ones not there."
"What are you two whispering about?" Kim narrowed her eyes at the two suspiciously while she approached the couch with a half-asleep five-year-old hoisted on her hip.
"Rae-Rae," Lily murmured, shifting away from the woman and lifting her arms up to go to her older cousin.
"Hey Lil," Rachel smiled warmly, accepting the toddler then settled her down on her lap. "Why are you so tired? It's only 7:00, you know you have to stay up until midnight with us."
"Because, Miss Lily here refused to take a nap with her brother earlier," Kim answered with a raised eyebrow at the stubborn little girl. "Even though I told her that she's going to be tired for tonight."
"M'sleepy Rae," Lily yawned, snuggling against the teenager. "Can we watch 'Funny Girl' again?"
"No you did not," Quinn gaped incredulously at Rachel. "Please tell me that you did not make two five-year-olds watch a boring, old singing movie. Are they even old enough to understand that?"
"Well I certainly was not about to watch 'The Secret Life of Pets' when Streisand was available," Rachel huffed in disdain. "Besides, they loved it. Isn't that right, Lil?"
"Mhmm," Lily nodded her head in solidarity. "We make mommy play Rain Parade all the time."
"Yes, thank you so much for that, by the way," Kim said, plopping down on the arm chair opposite the girls. "Brian and I haven't been able to listen to anything else in the car this past week cause they keep asking to listen to it over and over again."
"It's not my fault that you and Uncle Brian allowed them to live through five years on this Earth without introducing them to Babs," Rachel said in complete disbelief. "Especially mom! And she has the audacity to call herself a Broadway star and a music teacher, no less."
"I call myself what now, Rach?" Shelby cut into the conversation, walking over with board games in one hand and Robby in the other. A smile automatically bloomed across her face at the sight of her niece with her daughter, beyond thrilled that Rachel adopted the role of being a big cousin so easily and so willingly.
"I'm just saying that there's been some highly questionable parenting choices in this family," Rachel accused, wrapping her arms around the little girl on her lap protectively. "But it's okay, because Lily and Robby have me now to introduce them to the most talented and prolific entertainers of the modern era."
"Yep," Lily confirmed, not quite sure what she was agreeing to since her older cousin seemed to talk a lot, but she really liked her anyway. "Happy you're here, Rae-Rae."
"Me too!" Robby chimed in, flashing a toothy grin. "Will you, pretty please, play Battleship with me, Rae?"
"Oh no, Robby," Quinn warned with a knowing smirk. "If your cousin is anything like your mommy or your Aunt Shelly, then you absolutely do not want to get her started on a board game. They get super competitive."
"Excuse me, we are not that bad," Kim said defensively, but knew that she was standing on shaky ground.
They were infamous for their Corcoran competitive nature. Her sister, especially, was shamelessly ruthless. And she can neither confirm nor deny that while they were growing up, their parents had to eventually keep their board games under lock and key to preserve peace in their home.
"Nope, Q's right," Brian interjected as he joined the group. "You and Shel are definitely that bad. Remember when you didn't talk to each other for two weeks because of a debate over Pictionary strategy. Pictionary, babe."
"Or when Kim sprained her wrist playing Twister," Quinn added with a snicker.
"Okay, whatever, but I did win," Kim boasted, still entirely convinced that the Twister casualty was worth her victory. "I'd like to see any of you try to do that maneuver."
"And don't forget when Shelby put us all on lock down so we could finish an already four hour game of Monopoly!" Frannie yelled from across the room. "She outright refused to let us all go. I haven't been the same since the Shelby Shut-In of '08."
"Oh please," Shelby scoffed in protest as the rest of her family dissolved into laughter. "You're all just jealous because I'm the reigning champ of Game Night. Who holds the winningest record? That's right. Me. Rach, you can probably add Board Game Master to the list of things that I allegedly call myself."
Shrinking in her seat under Shelby's gaze, Rachel gave her a nervous smile in response. "Well, you better watch out mom, because I, too, happen to be a board game pro. Tonight may just be the night you lose your streak."
"Oh-ho, shots fired," Brian said impressed and gave his new niece a high-five in approval. "Mini-Shel did not come to play around."
"Oh my money is definitely on Rachel… to lose so badly to Shelby," Quinn declared, earning an elbow jab from the brunette.
"Alright, alright, that's enough smack talk over there," Robert's voice boomed over his family's raucous jeering, whistling the room into silence. "Everybody get over here and let's get New Year's Eve Game Night started!"
"Quinn," Rachel hissed as she trailed after the blonde swiftly making her way through the snow-covered yard.
"Quinn, there's a cop car right there. Are we going to get arrested? Because I know I'm tough and all but I don't exactly think that I'm prison-material."
"Berry, get a grip," Quinn pleaded, eyeing the idle police car parked on the street corner outside of her house. "Noah's is just a couple blocks that way, so we have to walk past it, okay? We're not doing anything illegal. Just be cool. I'm begging you."
Rooted to her spot on the sidewalk, Rachel wrung her hands apprehensively, swinging her gaze from the brightness inside of her grandparents' house to the glaring light emanating from the Lima Police Department vehicle. An omen, she's certain of it.
"What's wrong?" Quinn halted her steps, turning to face Rachel who was visibly shivering underneath the dim glow of the streetlight. "You wanted to go, right?"
"Yeah, yes," Rachel nodded her head fervently in an attempt to physically shake off the nerves. "Sorry. It's just—"
"What, Rach? Do you want to go back?"
"No, it's—I still just cannot believe that we lost," Rachel said in a half-whisper, her voice dripping with disappointment. "I usually rock at Taboo. But it's like my mother has X-ray vision and can see through the cards. How does she do it? Quinn. Tell me."
"And I can't believe that we're literally in the middle of sneaking out right now and you're still thinking about that!" Quinn exclaimed, wrapping her thin cardigan around her body then spun around to resume their getaway. "I told you. There is no winning against Shelby. I've been watching Kim and Fran try for years."
"Right," Rachel said, watching her breath materialize in the crisp air then hustled to follow the irate cheerleader across the street. "You know, she's going to kill me, kill us, if they find out we snuck out. And we look weird. We don't have our coats on. This cop's going to say something for sure. Oh God. We're dead. Quinn, I'm not sure they allow ex-convicts to audition for Broadway shows."
"They're not going to find out," Quinn seethed, doing her best to act normal while they walked past the police car. "It's only 9:00 and we'll be back by 11:30 the latest for the countdown. And stop freaking out! You're freaking me out. Also for the record, was this not your idea like twenty minutes ago?"
Rachel squared her shoulders, straightened her spine, and held her head high following behind Quinn. If she was going to go down, she might as well do it with poise. She made eye contact with the officer behind the wheel who tipped his head slightly in acknowledgement and gave her a polite smile. She swallowed thickly and forced herself to smile back, which she's certain came out as more of a pained grimace.
She'll be the first to admit that perhaps she had not thought things through when she pitched the escape plan to Puck's party, but it sounded pretty good in the moment to her. It's not that she was dying to get away from her family; truthfully, she was having a great time with them, but she also needed a breather and some space from all the attention. Most of all, she just needed a more effective distraction.
"I'm sorry," Rachel whispered, even though there was absolutely no else outside to hear them. She's just convinced that her mother has an innate, super-human sense of hearing, so she couldn't be too cautious. "Call it escapee's remorse. I think I might've blacked out when I suggested this."
"Shut up," Quinn laughed, not breaking her purposeful strides. "Let's just check it out. San texted me that everyone's already there. We can just make an appearance and head back before anyone notices."
After tucking in the twins for the night, Shelby quietly shut the door to the guest room behind her and turned to face her sister, pausing for a second before asking, "Kim? Do you think Rachel's okay?"
"Shelly," Kim lifted an eyebrow at her older sister. "You're doing it."
"Doing what?" Shelby asked for more elaboration while she followed the younger woman down the hallway.
"You're hovering," Kim replied as-a-matter-of-factly.
Shelby balked at the accusation. "What are you talking about?"
"You're hovering," Kim repeated, spinning around to face Shelby's thoroughly confused expression. "You're fixating. On your daughter. Rachel's fine. She's a teenager and she just wants to do her own thing. You remember what that's like. Besides, they're only next door and Rae's probably just forcing Q to watch another musical."
"No. That's not it," Shelby said, shaking her head. "I get that. It's—she didn't seem off to you after mom and Judy began talking to her about London?"
Kim paused to gather her thoughts for a moment and attempted to recall any weirdness from her niece earlier. "I don't know, maybe she seemed quieter? But that could've been anything, Shelly. You're worrying too much."
"Maybe, but can you blame me?" Shelby sighed, a faraway look in her eyes. "Leroy's actually leaving tomorrow and I'm just concerned about her reaction or honestly lack-thereof right now. She doesn't necessarily have the best track record of dealing when things get overwhelming for her. She might seem fine, but I know her Kim, and she bottles things up and internalizes too much and—"
"Shelly, I know," Kim interrupted, placing a calming hand on her shoulder and gently squeezing to rein in the new mother. "But you've talked to her, right? She knows to come to you. You've made it more than clear that you're here for her if she needs anything. So just trust that she knows that and stop worrying because all you're going to do is stress yourself out and Rachel will feed off that. Just be cool, mama."
"But that's way easier said than done," Shelby practically whined, which amused the younger Corcoran endlessly. In Kim's eyes, her older sister was good at everything. She rarely saw Shelby in situations where she was unassured, lacking confidence. They were few and far between.
"Just please tell me that this gets any easier?" Shelby pouted, her face falling.
"Being a parent? No, absolutely not," Kim chuckled sympathetically. "And mom and dad tell me that the worrying only gets worse."
"Fantastic," Shelby replied. "I don't know how you do this, especially when you have two of them."
"Oh, a ton of trial and error and an unhealthy amount of caffeine," Kim answered. "Also Brian. He's a rock star and constantly talks me off the ledge. And I will gladly do the same for you any time, any place, big sis."
Without waiting for a reply, Kim took Shelby's hand in hers and led her down the hallway and into her old bedroom, still, for the most part, untouched since she moved out for college years ago.
Kim stopped in front of the window, opened up the blinds then tapped the glass, pointing to the window at the Fabray house directly across the side-yard.
"Look. The lights are on in Q's room and I think I can even hear music," Kim moved to allow her sister to observe. "They're fine. And if you're really worried, we can make up an excuse and check on them later."
Bending down slightly to peer through the frost-covered glass, Shelby let out a small laugh."This is kind of creepy," she pointed out.
"Not when that used to be Frannie's old room. Then it was just awesome. How do you think we were able to talk to each other even when we were grounded? Constantly. By mom and Judy."
"Yeah, well, you guys were such delinquents," Shelby teased, twisting the blinds close and making her way out the room. She's not about to get caught spying on her daughter.
"Maybe compared to you," Kim said with an impish grin. "You were such a square. You never got in trouble with mom and dad."
"Or maybe I just never got caught," Shelby shrugged, causing Kim to stop dead in her tracks.
"What?" The younger Corcoran gaped. "What do you mean you never got caught, Shelly?"
Shelby smirked at the incredulous look taking over her little sister's face and suddenly felt sixteen again, swapping trade secrets on how to elude their parent's wrath. "Well… it may or may not be possible that while you and Frannie were communicating via Morse code through your bedroom windows that perhaps I was sneaking out through the basement window that mom told dad to bolt shut but never did."
"Oh my god," Kim breathed, brown eyes widening at the admission and filling with betrayal at the fact that her entire teenage life has been a lie.
"You got away with it for years! This is so incredibly unfair, Shelly. Why didn't you tell me? You just let me get in trouble when you had a patented way of getting to do whatever you wanted!"
"Because you would've told Frannie and gotten caught anyway!" Shelby replied in matching fervor. "You two are the worst and so obvious and then I wouldn't have had an escape route anymore! And I honestly didn't do it all the time, just when desperate times called for desperate measures."
"I can't even look at you right now," Kim said, shaking her head in sincere shock. "Mom and dad lectured me incessantly about being more like you, Miss Perfect, and this entire time you were doing the same thing as I was! And you have the nerve to call yourself a big sister!"
"Alright, someone's been hanging around my kid too much," Shelby laughed then raised her hands up in fake surrender. "I'm sorry, Kim. I am. But you must understand, I had to err on the side of caution. Self-preservation and all."
"You are unbelievable," Kim glared, poking Shelby's chest with an accusatory finger. "And I'm telling mom!"
"Kimmie! Get back here right now!" Shelby yelled after her scorned sibling went barreling down the stairs at lightning speed.
By the time Rachel and Quinn arrived, the illicit New Year's Eve party was in full swing. Scores of McKinley High students were scattered throughout the house and a playlist of pop music blared from the speakers, dampening the sounds of drunken conversation and raucous laughter.
In true Puck-fashion, what was initially supposed to be a group hang for the New Directions, predictably morphed into an all-out rager. Quinn was right, all of the glee kids were accounted for, but there was also a surprisingly large number of upperclassmen, Cheerios, and jocks in attendance.
"What's up my hot, little Jewish-American-Princess?" Puck greeted with a lazy smirk, pulling Rachel into an unexpected side-hug. "Welcome to Casa-A-La-Puck. Didn't think you'd be able to join us this evening."
"This wasn't necessarily my plan," Rachel replied, surveying the scene in front of her. The clock had yet to strike midnight, and already the majority of party guests were exceptionally inebriated.
Artie was doing wheelies up and down the hallway, eliciting impressed cheering from Mike and Matt. A crowd was forming around Santana and Brittany who were dancing dangerously close, swaying their hips rhythmically to the beat of the music. Kurt, Tina, and Mercedes were sprawled across the couch talking animatedly in between fits of giggles. And Finn was in the midst of a rowdy, trash-talking game of Quarters. The only person missing was Quinn, who ran off the moment they entered the house party.
"But this is quite a shindig you've put together, Puckerman."
"I know right?" Puck agreed, marveling at the drunken revelry in all its glory and took another swig from his Solo cup. "Glad you could partake in the fun, Berry. May I offer you a drink?"
"Uh—no thanks," Rachel replied hastily. "I'm not staying long. Quinn and I are actually supposed to be at my grandparents' house with our families. We just came to check it out but should probably get back soon."
"Oh shit," Puck tittered, nodding his head in full support. "You guys snuck out to be here? Badass, Rachel. Maybe you're less of a square than I thought. But you sure I can't get you a drink? I made some Puckerman Punch. It's my specialty. We also have some wine coolers in the fridge and somebody brought the beer ball, it's a mini-keg."
Rachel scrunched up her nose at the offers. It's one thing to push her luck with the unapproved excursion, but it's another to even entertain the idea of underage drinking, even though everyone around her seemed to have no qualms about it. She's not quite ready to up the ante yet. "No, because I truly think that my mother will murder me if she even smells any sort alcohol on me."
"Alright, suit yourself," Puck relented. "I just want you to loosen up, Berry. I think it'd do you and honestly all of us a world of good. You're always wound up so tight and you've been so stressed out recently about Sectionals."
"Regionals," Rachel corrected with a grin. Misguided as it may be, she was somewhat touched by the concern. At least they were past the days of him and Santana carelessly pawning her off to their competition.
"That's what I said," Puck shrugged then guzzled down the rest of his drink. "Alright, I'm out. I am going to refill, but make yourself comfortable. Just promise me dude, no show tunes if you somehow get a hold of the playlist."
Watching Puck's mohawk disappear into a swarm of bodies, Rachel stood around awkwardly for the next few seconds, unsure of what to do next. This was her first ever high school party, and she probably couldn't feel more out of place if she tried.
"Diva!" Kurt's call captured her attention. She turned around instantly and met his, Mercedes, and Tina's smiling faces waving her down to come over. Breathing a sigh of relief, she made a beeline for the couch and was immediately engulfed into a bone-crushing hug.
"Barbra, you made it," Kurt slurred, his embrace fierce. "I'm so happy you're here. I was just telling Tina and Mercedes about how you said you'd think about letting me do a makeover for you. Please let me, you know a good makeover is like crack to me."
"Hi there Kurt," Rachel laughed in amusement. "I see you've had something to drink."
"He's had like three somethings to drink," Mercedes replied, holding up and wiggling four fingers. "And so have we. Where's your Puckasaurus Punch, lady?"
"Not tonight," Rachel evaded then settled in the vacant spot on the couch once Kurt released her. "I'm actually supposed to be with my mom. Quinn and I just came by to say hi to everyone. Have you seen her by the way?"
"I saw her grab Finn a couple minutes ago and they went upstairs," Tina answered, drawing a chorus of intrigued sounds from the three divas.
"I told you, Kurt!" Mercedes said, her voice full of vindication. "Did I not say that they were acting all weird and suspicious at the Lima Bean the other day? Who knew it was because they're getting down and freaky!"
"Well is anyone surprised?" Kurt asked rhetorically as he crossed his legs, leaned back, and sipped his drink. "He's the quarterback and she's going to be the head cheerleader. It's written in the cliched high school stars. It's their destiny."
"What do the stars say about us?" Tina inquired.
"We are in glee club, Tina," Kurt answered. "That means we are the bottom of the social heap. The chess team will get more play than we will."
"Only until we win at Regionals," Rachel responded with a determined nod. "Being great at something is going to change that. Being a part of something special will make us special."
"Except you forgot that we have to compete against your mother and her team first to get there," Mercedes pointed out. "Vocal Adrenaline is no joke, y'all."
"Rachel, is it true that they're required to use sunblock when they rehearse because their spotlights are so bright?" Tina questioned. "Or that they practice from 2:30 to midnight every single day? And for 24 hours straight before every competition? When do you get to see your mom?"
Rachel furrowed her brows at the absurd line of questioning. She really has to talk to her mom about Vocal Adrenaline PR. The rumors were getting out-of-hand.
"We're screwed," Kurt decided, swallowing back the rest of his mixed drink.
"What? No we're not," Rachel argued. "VA is good but we're not a joke either. I really think that if we just double down, take things more seriously, and—"
"Nuh-uh, stop right there," Mercedes cut off the self-anointed team leader. "Tonight is not the time to talk business. Nope. Rachel, I promise you that you can bore us all to death with the details on how to take-down VA when we get back from break. But tonight—tonight we dance."
Rising to her feet, Mercedes tugged on Rachel's hand and led her out to the makeshift dance floor, calling after Tina and Kurt to follow. Once there, they spotted Brittany and Mike who both sauntered their way to join them.
"We can worry about glee tomorrow, but let's just have fun for now," Mercedes said over the music blasting. "Just chill Rach, and shake what your mama gave ya."
After hearing it for the millionth time that night, Rachel finally allowed herself to listen to the advice. She briefly glanced at her phone to keep the time and felt her heart constrict at the missed text and call but pushed it down immediately.
She looked back up at her friends who were trying to get their dance on but were flailing around drunkenly more than anything else. Their goofy smiles and carefree attitudes were contagious, and she found herself leaning in to it as she joined the growing dance circle.
She came here to have fun. And that's exactly what she was going to do.
For the most part, Will Schuester considered himself a confident man. He was a performer and a teacher. He knew how to carry himself in front of crowds. He can handle his share of unruly teenagers. Heck, he even went toe-to-toe with Sue Sylvester on the daily. There wasn't a lot that genuinely made him nervous. But sitting alone in the Corcoran's home office, no witnesses in sight, with his new girlfriend's best friend, he began to get a rather sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.
After a few moments of thick, uncomfortable silence, Kim slowly spun the office chair around, her fingers steepled underneath her chin, and narrowed her gaze at the man in question suspiciously.
"So, William Michael Schuester," Kim stated, her tone firm, her face somber.
With an audible gulp, Will attempted to control the pounding in his chest. Oh yes. This was one of the rare occasions where he found himself surprisingly on edge. "Um...yes, Kim...berly? Jennings-Corcoran?"
Uncrossing her legs, Kim proceeded to get up from the chair and walked in front of the oak desk then peered down at Will with a stone-face expression, quite pleased at how squirmy he looked. Now she understands why her sister gets off on these power trips.
"I have one question for you and know that there is a right answer," Kim responded, speaking slowly and evenly. "What are your intentions with my Frannie?"
Kim maintained a rigid stance in front of Will and allowed him a moment to organize his thoughts. Once he stopped fidgeting, she couldn't help but ask, "And also, why is your hair so big and curly? Is it because it's full of secrets?"
"His intentions are to take advantage of me, which I am more than willing to allow. And excuse you, I find his hair extremely adorable," Frannie answered as she walked into the room, bottle of wine in hand, and perched herself on Will's lap.
"Oh, come on!" Kim whined passionately, throwing her hands up in the air. "You just ruined my entire interrogation!"
"Rule number one of a shake-down, little sis, is to close the door behind you, so that it makes it harder for them to escape," Shelby advised while she also entered the dimly-lit office space, probably so for the dramatic effect. "You have much to learn on the art of the scare."
"Aw man," Kim pouted, breaking out of her facade. "I really thought I was doing well there for a second. I seriously need to get this down before the twins are teenagers."
"For what it's worth, I was a bit intimidated," Will offered, actually feeling immensely relieved at the turn of events. "You were almost as frightening as your sister. No offense, Shelby."
"Not possible." "Cool!" Shelby and Kim replied at the same time.
Kim grabbed the bottle of wine from Frannie and began to refill the empty glasses on the desk. "More wine for everyone?"
Will and Frannie nodded their heads in confirmation but Shelby shook her head in objection. "No thanks, I've already had three and I definitely need to sober up so I can drive Rach and I home later. We need to be at the airport very early tomorrow morning."
"Well, there's no way mom's going to let you drive home now. The kids are already asleep and I don't want to wake them, so we can all just sleep over," Kim problem-solved, already done pouring another glass for Shelby.
Her sister rarely drank more than the one glass of wine with dinner, if that, and the fact that she's not vehemently protesting a fourth, is a wildly exciting idea to Kim. The prospect of a drunk Shelby made her more giddy than she can probably express. She shared a brief, knowing look with Frannie, who understood exactly what she was getting at.
"Yeah Shel, have just another drink with us," Frannie urged, taking her glass and handing the other to Will. "It's New Year's Eve. We're celebrating the end of an awesome, kick-ass year for all of us. And the beginning of another one with all of the new amazing people in our lives. It's going to be great."
"Are you really using my reunion with my daughter as leverage to encourage me to drink some more right now?" Shelby asked, seeing right through their transparent plan. She doesn't know why the dynamic duo think that they can ever get anything past her.
Still, she already felt refreshingly loose and a tad bit invincible. It couldn't hurt to lean into the euphoria.
"Because I think it's probably working."
Breaking into a impossibly wide grin, Kim raised her glass victoriously for a toast, "To Rachel."
"To Rachel," the room echoed with cheers.
At Puck's, Rachel lost track of how long she's been dancing and essentially scream-singing along to the music with the glee kids. She was still avoiding the alcohol that was flowing freely, but she was having a perfectly good time enjoying the spectacle her friends made in their various degrees of drunkenness. Despite the sobriety, she felt relaxed and uninhibited from the endorphins rushing through her body. She can't even remember the last time she danced or even sang just for fun, but it was proving to be an excellent distraction and was effectively washing her worries away.
As the night wore on, it seemed as though the entire student population had come to partake in the festivities. For the most part, the glee kids closed ranks and were content with entertaining one another. Every once in a while, Karofsky and his jock cronies would drunkenly jeer and throw ignorant taunts their way, but Puck did his best to maintain the peace between the clashing cliques.
Eventually, Rachel pleaded fatigue and decided she needed to find a drink. She looked over at the beverage counter and found Santana staring intently at her. Feeling braver than usual, she walked over to the cheerleader and offered a bright smile as a peace offering.
"Hey Santana, how's your night going?"
"Good," Santana responded shortly. "Yours?"
"Good," Rachel seconded, opening a water bottle and bringing it up to her lips. An awkwardness settled heavily in between them, and Rachel sighed realizing that her company was not likely to humor her. "Okay well—"
"I'm surprised you're here," Santana said. "Where's Q at?"
"Honestly, same, but I'm having fun," Rachel shrugged. "And I haven't seen Quinn in a while, but I should probably find her. It's past 11:00 and we have to get back to my grandparents'."
"Oh, right. How's that mama drama going, Rachel?"
"Wow, did you just call me by my first name?" Rachel asked in a disbelieving manner. "Did not think you were capable of that."
"Yes, so what?" Santana replied, annoyed by Rachel's tone. "Do you prefer Yentl? RuPaul? That Thing?"
"Why do you hate me?" Rachel demanded. As far as she's aware, she hasn't said or done anything wrong to offend the popular cheerleader, so she doesn't understand where the unreasonable amount of ire is coming from. She was so sick of it.
"Oh I don't hate you," Santana said seriously. "I just don't know you. You're just this girl who showed up from out of nowhere acting like you're better than all of us with your perfect little life and celebrity mom, and suddenly you're bossing everyone around and always hanging around my best friends."
"What?" Rachel scoffed. "You think my life is perfect?" Triggered by the unwarranted judgment, she felt her anger rise spectacularly. She opened and closed her mouth a few times as she gathered her thoughts but found herself feeling more and more agitated by the unfair assessment of her life. She's been through so much; hell, she is going through so much, in the past year. And she'd be damned if she let anyone say it was "perfect" or otherwise and treat her differently for it.
"My two dads lied to me," Rachel huffed out an exasperated breath then began to set the record straight. "For, I don't know, probably years, about their marriage. About how happy they were, how happy we were. About who my mom was. Then, they decided they didn't want to lie anymore and blew my life apart and moved me here where I'm constantly judged and belittled by people who don't understand who I am or what they're talking about. And on top of that, one of them decided that they're just absolutely okay with moving thousands of miles away from me without ever really asking me how I felt about it. So I'm not really sure where perfect fits in any of that, Santana, but that's certainly not how I would describe my life at the moment. Also just so we're clear, I only boss everyone around in glee because nobody takes it as seriously as I do. You all complain about sucking and then nobody wants to put in any work!"
Around them, the party raged on, but Rachel and Santana were caught in an intense staring match after the fiery profession. Rachel's chest rose up and down at the verbal expulsion of all her current stress. The two of them stood in silence for another full minute, before Santana, who was starting to wear a regretful expression, broke it.
"Rachel, I'm—"
"I don't need your pity, Santana," Rachel sighed with an imperceptible shake of her heard. This is not what she came here for tonight. "I just want you to cut me some slack."
"Okay," Santana said simply.
"Okay, what?"
"Okay, hobbit?" Santana smirked, softening her features. "You still annoy me, but I'm—yeah, I am sorry about all the shit that's going on with your dads. That's, like, real heavy, so I guess I can cool it. But that still doesn't mean—"
"That we're friends," Rachel completed the sentence, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, whatever. Fine with me, Satan."
"Sanny, Rachel, come back and dance!" Brittany's cheerful voice cut into the tension. The blonde beckoned them back to join the group on the dance floor that now included Quinn and Finn.
Before she could decline, Santana grabbed her arm and yanked her towards everybody. "Let's go, Rachel. Come dance your little midget legs off some more."
Pleasantly surprised and only slightly offended by the invitation, Rachel made a split-second decision to cast her worries away. That was tomorrow's problem. Tonight, following Mercedes' advice, she only wanted to dance.
"And in conclusion, that is why I believe that Shelby Marie Corcoran owes me, Kimberly Reese Jennings-Corcoran, reparations for the injustice that was done to me, and also Frannie by association, during our teenage years," Kim bowed to the round of applause from her audience sitting on the family room couch.
"I owe you nothing," Shelby maintained, polishing off another glass of wine, her last one she decided since every single nerve inside of her felt acutely warm and tingly. "It's not my fault that I was way more creative than you were with mom and dad's rules."
"That may be so, but you could have shared the knowledge with me is my point," Kim, who appeared slightly unsteady on her feet, argued. "That's what big sisters are for."
"Uh, no," Shelby countered. "I was not about to share methods for you to go and get in more trouble and have who knows what happen to you and for that to be on my conscience. No ma'am. As a big sister, I am supposed to look out for you."
"I have to agree with Shel here," Frannie spoke up, ignoring the look of betrayal directed her way. "There's no way I'd indulge Quinnie. That girl knows how to find trouble on her own."
"I cannot believe that you all left me to play Scrabble with your parents, while you're all in here hiding so you can drink!" Brian cried foul as he entered the den. "You. Guys. Owe. Me."
He threw a cell phone to Shelby and then sniped the glass of wine from his wife's hand. "Your phone rang twice, Shel. I think you have a missed call from Leroy. And your parents want everybody back in the living room soon for the countdown."
"My hero," Kim gushed, sloppily falling into Brian's arms and ungracefully pushed him down to the couch.
Laughing at the interaction, Shelby turned her attention to her phone and scrolled through her recent messages, confusion registering almost instantly.
Leroy: Hey, just called to say goodnight to Rach. Called her a couple times, but no answer. It's ok, figured you both are busy. See u tomorrow.
An unsettled feeling cut into her buzz, and Shelby sobered up slightly. Before she could do anything else, Judy blazed into the room wearing a perfectly irritable expression that only a mother of a misbehaving teenager could muster.
"Shelby, do you know where Rachel is? Because those two little girls are definitely not where they're supposed to be," Judy stated, her hands making its way to her hips. "And Quinn's phone is dead. I just tried calling her."
"They're not at your house?" Shelby inquired, that all-too-familiar dread of not knowing where her child was taking over her senses. She didn't waste a second dialing the teenager's number.
"No, they most definitely are not," Judy replied with a bite in her voice that made all of the adults in the room flinch. They couples all shifted anxiously in their seats and looked at anywhere but Judy Fabray in an attempt to avoid being in her line of fire.
"Russ and Robert said they're not upstairs either," Anne informed, a hint of amusement in her voice. "Looks like we've got a couple of runaways on our hands."
"Where would they have even gone?" Shelby asked, her worry rapidly turned into anger as she listened to Rachel's voicemail greeting. Her daughter's disappearing act was no longer cute. It was beyond unacceptable for the teenager to continue thinking that she could go wherever she wanted and whenever she pleased without explicit permission.
Rachel was a child. Her child. The child who continued to put her in these remarkably awful positions where she had no idea what she was doing, who she was with, if she was okay. It was, without a doubt, the worst feeling in the world for the mother.
Shelby's fingers flew violently across her iPhone, typing a message that she prayed that the teenager had the good sense to reply to.
Shelby: Where are you? Why aren't you answering?
A response came almost instantaneously and as soon as she finished reading it, her blood automatically boiled to dangerously high levels. Perhaps it was the state of inebriation that she was still very much under that was heightening her emotions, kicking it into overdrive. But in that moment, Shelby Corcoran has never been more furious with her daughter.
Rachel: Sorry, we're just finishing up a movie in Quinn's room. Be there in 20!
"That. Little. Brat," Shelby seethed, a fresh swell of anger thrumming through her veins. "She just lied to me! Just flat-out lied to me."
"What did she say?" Kim asked, prying the phone away from her fuming sister to read the text message. Oh, for sure. Her niece was dead.
She gave the phone to Brian, who passed it along to Frannie and Will. By the time the incriminating piece of evidence made its way around the room and back to her, Shelby had already come up with a dozen ways to punish her child for this indiscretion.
"What are you going to do, Shel?" Frannie inquired about the fate of the scheming teenagers.
"Oh, I'm going to—"
"Do absolutely nothing, except wait for them to come back," Anne interfered, providing a voice of reason. "Honey, you don't even know where they are, and Rachel just said they'll be here soon. You can deal with her then."
"What? But Ma!' Shelby protested, mentally wincing at how childish her voice came out. "Rachel just blatantly lied to me. At least let me text her back."
"Shelby, no," Anne said firmly then extracted the phone from her older daughter's hands and pocketed it. "If you provoke her now, you'll only scare her off. Trust me. Just stay calm and let her come to you first, so that we can at least get them back here. Then, I promise you that can do whatever you want to your daughter. No questions asked."
"I have to agree," Judy sighed heavily. She, also, was none too pleased with her youngest daughter at the moment, but she knew that she had to strategize here. "I wouldn't even know where to look for them. Quinn didn't mention anything to me. Has Rachel?"
Shelby paused and searched every corner of her mind for any sort of information that can help point to her missing daughter's whereabouts, but came up short. She mimicked Judy's sigh of frustration and shook her head no.
"Alright then, it's settled," Anne said, rubbing her daughter's back in sympathy. "I'm sorry honey, but if it makes you feel better, I actually think that this may be somewhat of a good sign? I think the fact that Rachel's pushing boundaries means that she is getting more comfortable with you. It's definitely not okay, but I know you'll steer her in the right course."
Shelby nodded her acknowledgement but her mother's reassurances did nothing to quell the irritation that seared through her with a burning passion. She was going to do more than steer her daughter in the right course. By the time Shelby's through with her, Rachel's going to fully understand that she built, owned, and controlled the goddamn course.
As soon as the two older women stepped out of the room, Shelby snapped her attention back to the remaining couples, her sight landing immediately on Will.
"Why do you look like you know something, Schuester?" Shelby demanded, smelling the weakness off of the suddenly nervous-looking man.
All eyes swerved to the teacher who was battling an internal war in his head. He might have an idea of where his two missing students were, but he doesn't know whether or not he was crossing the line by offering up that information. He was here as his girlfriend's guest, not as Rachel and Quinn's glee coach. He doesn't want to mix up roles. But he also doesn't want to be the one to withhold pertitent intel from a worrying mother.
"I think I might know where the girls are," Will confessed warily.
"What? Where? Tell me," Shelby ordered him to speak.
"I—uh," he hesitated but then met Shelby's icy glare piercing into him, a look so cold and so sharp that he's certain can cut into glass. "They might be at a party. At Puck's house."
"What the hell is a Puck?" Shelby asked in pure exasperation, already slipping her shoes back on. "A party?"
"Puck is Noah Puckerman," Will explained. "I overheard the kids talking about his New Year's Eve party during rehearsal before the break. Something about his mom going out of town."
"Woah, Mini-Shel broke out to go to an unsupervised party," Brian said in awe, letting out a low whistle. "That's bold. I mean I remember my high school parties, all the drinking and the hooking up and the—"
"Babe, you're not helping," Kim interjected, fearing for her husband's life based on the unmistakable look of rage spreading across her sister's face. "Shelly?"
"Will, do you know where this Puck lives?" Shelby questioned.
"Oh no, Shelby. I don't think that'd be a good idea," Will objected. "I think Anne and Judy are right and it's probably a better idea to stay here, and also we can't even be certain that they are there. I could've misheard or—"
"Just tell the woman," Frannie urged, it was her turn to fear for the safety and well-being of her boyfriend. Even she knows better than to challenge a Shelby on a mission.
"Well I don't even know where he lives," Will responded, sufficiently backed into a corner.
"Wait, but I think I do," Frannie contemplated. "Puck is the kid with the mohawk, right? I think I might've dropped Q off there over Halloween. He lives super close by. Like definitely walking distance."
Knowing full-well that her decisions were being fueled by the copious amount of wine intoxicating her usually level-headed mind, she threw caution to the wind anyway. Sober Shelby would heed her mother's advice and wait patiently for her darling daughter to return. But drunk Shelby had no interest in waiting. Not in the slightest. Drunk Shelby wanted, no, needed, to hunt down her lying and sneaky kid.
And she needed to do it now.
"Perfect," she replied rather calmly. "Who's with me?"
"But mom?" Kim whispered.
"She doesn't have to know," Shelby shrugged. "We'll be quick, grab the girls, and be back before she notices. Will and Brian can cover for us."
Kim and Frannie both looked at each other, a matching gleam in their eyes. Brian and Will can practically feel the excitement vibrating off of them. This was it. Years in the making. They finally get to go on a parentally-barred adventure with Shelby.
"Can we?" Kim dared to ask.
"Sure," Shelby indulged. "We can sneak out the basement window."
"You said what?!" Quinn groaned, scanning the text message exchange between the mother and daughter. "Why would you tell her that? What if they checked in on us and they were testing us?"
"I don't know!" Rachel replied hotly. "I panicked! Don't yell at me! Why didn't you tell me that it was almost midnight?"
"Because my phone died!" Quinn barked, failing to control her growing panic. Of course they would lose track of time. She could see it clearly now. In the near future, her mother was going to kill her, and then probably resurrect her, so she can allow Shelby to kill her as well.
"Listen, it's fine," Rachel said more for her sake than anything else. "Look, my mom read the message. I saw the read receipt, and she didn't say anything. I know her, if she was suspicious at all, she would've called me a million more times or texted back. I think we're still okay."
"Alright, fine, yeah," Quinn sincerely hoped. "Let's just go now. We might still make the countdown if we hurry."
They bid their quick farewells to a refrain of good lucks and well wishes. Regardless of what their mothers knew, the overwhelming need to survive overtook all of their other concerns. The innate desire for self-preservation was fueling their hustle to get back.
However in their haste to get out of the crowds, three monumental things happened all in succession that sealed their fate at the hands of their mothers.
One: Rachel accidentally and very unfortunately bumped into a certain tall and tormenting bully who's had a vendetta against her since she took him to task for his abhorrent treatment of Kurt.
"Holy crap, you freak, watch where you're going!" Karofsky roared, flicking the spilled beverage off his hands. "God, you and your homo friends are so freakin' annoying."
"Shut the hell up, Karofsky," Quinn snarled protectively. "It was an accident. Don't get your panties in a wad."
"Nobody's talking to you, Queen of the Chastity Ball," the football player replied. "I'm talking to the Captain of the Loser Brigade over here, who's been messing everything up at school ever since you all joined the Lullaby League. Now all you glee freaks think that you can do whatever you want. Christ, you all need to learn how to stay in your lane."
He directed the irrational animosity towards Rachel with a malicious glint in his eyes. Before the brunette could respond, he poured the remaining contents of his drink on her shoes.
Two: As the sticky substance seeped into her boots, Rachel's fury, weeks in the making, sprang to life. No longer interested in taking the high road, she swiped a Solo cup from an innocent bystander and didn't think twice before catapulting the drink onto Karofsky's menacing face.
And three: Nearly choking on her rage, it took Rachel exactly 3.27 seconds to realize that the questionable concotion of alcohol didn't land on the jock, who had moved out of the way milliseconds earlier, but instead all over her mother.
Her mother, who was rendered frozen, staring wide-eyed at her, and covered head-to-toe in Puckerman Punch.
"Ho...ly…" Frannie breathed, her jaw dropping to the floor.
Swaying her gaze from Rachel, whose complexion paled significantly in record speed, to Shelby, whose shock was slowly but surely wearing off, Kim immediately registered an all-consuming fear for the life of her niece and cried, "Run, Rae!"
A/N: To be continued, but would love to hear your thoughts so far! Thanks for joining me for another one.
More of the aftermath, S&R, and regularly-scheduled drama coming up next.