TurnTable

Second Verse

She would just like to point out that Noah Puckerman is the most insufferable, egotistical, jerk she's ever had the misfortune and misjudgment to have ever communicated with.

End of story.

Wouldn't that have been lovely? To just declare the story over and have that as the end of that? No Noah, no inebriated misadventure, and certainly no-

Her hands glide over her midsection and that train of thought is postponed. If the boy wasn't so infuriating, she might've deemed it important to just tell him. She nearly did. It was like he was reading her thoughts and just knew her dark, sordid secret. Not that he was an innocent bystander in this, but he wasn't someone she could easily trust with this. A baby was an extremely large responsibility that neither she nor Noah was equipped to handle. She had goals. Aspirations. Why should she have to put her entire life on hold, her future career in jeopardy because of one indiscrepancy? Maybe if she had one good reason...

But she didn't. None that came directly to mind at the moment. Storming down the hallway back to the choir room, all she could think about was his bitter face, the condescending glint in his darkened jade eyes, and the way he grimaced as she walked away.

Rachel walked back into the choir room after taking a deep breath, only to see that nearly everyone was gone. Thank goodness for small favors.

"Mr. Schue," Rachel called out to get his attention. The Glee moderator smiled as she approached.

"Heh, looks like you're feeling a bit better. You looked a bit under the weather a while ago," He said as the concerned crease returned to his eyes.

Rachel smiled, shaking her head, "Never better Mr. Schuster. I just wanted to let you know that I completely meant what I said earlier."

Mr. Schuster began to nod, a small smile set on his face, "I know you did. And I'm pleasantly surprised, Rachel. Any particular reason?"

Another shake of the head, this time with a smile so wide and tight that her cheeks began to sting, "Nope, I just...I just feel that someone else should get the opportunity since my performance hasn't been up to par lately."

"I wanted to ask you about that, is everything okay, Rachel? Are you still being…?" He trailed off, almost unsure if he should say it.

"Harassed?" She finished without plight. "No Mr. Schue, I just am finding myself growing tired lately, that's all." The brightly placed smile on her face began to wane, but she shook it off quickly.

Mr. Schuster only somewhat noticed this change, but just chalked it up to Rachel's normal eccentricity. "Well, although I'm glad you're showing maturity and taking the group's needs before your own, I hope that you can rest up. Even if you're not lead, we still need your vocals, Rachel."

The Jewish girl dutifully nodded, "I completely understand. I'll take care of it."

Why did saying it sound so…final? This was the plan: To become someone in life, and then, maybe, have a child or two. Not now. Not when she was in her prime, a bright, vibrant starlet. Not when she was so close to just leaving this town.

As she walked to her Prius in a somewhat dazed trance, she wanted to give herself every reason. Every justifiable statement to support this: He didn't want her. She didn't want him. They didn't want each other and invariably didn't want a child. She had dreams to accomplish. He had…whatever it was that he had. She didn't want to stay in Lima. He most likely did. She was a frightened sixteen year old girl who knew what she wanted out of life, and it certainly didn't include this. He was the boy that, for the last two years, had absolutely no problem making her life a living Hell. There was no reason for this baby to exist.

Gripping the steering wheel tightly, she soon found herself at home in the comfort of her own bedroom, despite the fact that it was the same location that she found herself completely inhibited. She did everything she could to untainted the area; changed her bedspread, rearranged her furniture, even wallpapering the wall with light floral accents. She could admit that she was a bit obsessive about the whole thing, but it was necessary evil. How could she go home to the same room when she could practically see him everywhere she turned? In any case, she felt that the room needed redecorating anyways.

She sat in front of her computer and researched the closest abortion clinic. So far, the only option was the Center for Choice clinic in Toledo. 60 miles away, but it was designed and operated by women, some of which that may know and empathize with her. Since her fathers trusted her, she could access the $400 needed from her personal savings. That money was for New York; three months rent, school, food. She really would rather not to dip in it, but since this was for her future, the true purpose of the account, then it really wasn't a tough decision.

She dialed the number on the website on her cell phone and cleared her throat primly as the other line rang. When the receptionist picked up, Rachel said, "Hi, may I schedule an appointment?"

She'd also like to point out that her insertion in Glee had, once again, nothing to do with Puck.

Before she decided to voice her decision to give up the lead, new mash-up ideas were presented. The song Mr. Schuster requested that the group do was "Are You Gonna Be My Girl?" by Jet.

Everyone gathered around after Mr. Shuster's rendition, laughing breathlessly, and high-fived all of those who participated in the impromptu number. Puck remained seated throughout with an amused smile playing on his lips.

"Okay ya'll, playtime's over. Any ideas?" Mercedes inquired to the room at large.

Puck snickered under his breath and Rachel craned her head to find the offending noise. Her eyes narrowed, 'What a jerk…'

"Oh my God, Rachel actually has some flavor," Kurt cooed in awe as he touched Mercedes' shoulder. The girl nodded and made a sound in the back of her throat in agreement.

Rachel looked around the room, bewildered, until she realized that all eyes were on her. "What's going on?" She asked with a weak smile, as if she were a bystander.

"Girl, I didn't know you listened to Hip Hop," Mercedes found her way to her side, appealing to her with a light-hearted smirk.

"I…" Rachel began awkwardly, squirming slightly. Had she said something?

"You know, that's hot," Matt grinned with Mike, getting hyped up. "We could even start jerking! Man, I've been waiting to integrate new dances for the longest!"

What were they talking about? Jerk…ing?

And then, to her horror, she realized she had spoken aloud. Oops.

She precariously glanced to the side and noticed the skeptical stare Puck aimed her way. She turned away quickly enough to give herself whiplash. She felt a hand rest on her shoulder and flinched until she saw it was Finn's. Taking a breath, she relaxed into the touch. "Are you okay, Rachel? You look a little under the weather," Finn asked with a concerned gaze.

"I'm fine. Completely and utterly fine," She said with a reassuring nod. She smiled widely, "Thank you for your concern, I really appreciate it."

And since then, Puck had made it his personal business to observe Rachel throughout practice, which not only unnerved her, but kept her on edge the entire time. Seeing him outside the bathroom was also an unwanted occurrence and she fretted over the chance that he may have heard her in the girl's bathroom.

Knowing him, he probably laughed in some sort of sick satisfaction, so she couldn't care less.

Logging onto her MySpace account, she noticed her e-mail indicator in the corner and clicked it curiously. She was barely sent any private messages.

Jacob Israel.

A shudder rocked through her core, and she grudgingly clicked on the e-mail. Her almond eyes grew wide and she had to cover her mouth to suppress her horror.

"Teen Diva Extraordinaire Rachel Berry," The afroed boy said from behind and she jumped away in shock. "Or should I say Lil' Mama?"

She paused to compose herself and then she turned to him, eyes blazing. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about your one-woman act plus one," Jacob stated, pushing his glasses to the crook of his nose. "I wonder-will your water break while you sing due to the pressure of your diaphragm?"

"Enough!" Rachel screeched in a whispered tone. "I. Am. Not. Pregnant. Do you understand me?"

"Really? Then why haven't you had your monthly as of yet? Currently, you seem to get it between the span of the eighth and the eleventh," Jacob said sagely, reaching for his tape recorder.

Rachel inched away, growing pale. "How on Earth do you know that?"

"I've collected samples." He retorted, as if to say of course blood samples were taken. "I'd like an interview."

"And I'd like you to leave me alone, but I don't suppose that's going to happen, now is it?" Rachel replied scathingly and Jacob shook his head.

"Not likely, Rachel Berry. I have my ways," He said with an increasingly Grinch-like smile, and she ran in the other direction.

Now she sat in front of her computer screen, staring blatantly at a large picture of her, looking about eight months pregnant with all of the boys in Glee Club surrounding her, even though Finn was most proximately shown. Below that was an large blinking caption:

Who's the Daddy?

Okay, I have to go pretty soon, but before I do I'll mention that Kiss. Me .Pink has made this a contest. As soon as she picks out her top three, people can vote for the overall favorite, so please, show some support and vote. I'd be pretty cool to place. ;)

Another thing. After this chapter, the story will get increasingly darker. For innocent viewers, TURN BACK NOW. Thanks to the awesome reviewers, alerts, favers, and readers. :D

DAC