The next day, Rachel chooses her attire carefully. Her eyes scan the items in her closet, hoping to stumble across the perfect outfit; one that would yell you stupid stupid man, allowing Puck to ruminate his actions. She wants to look beautiful, not that she doesn't already, but she wants to look beautiful as all girls do when they come across their ex for the first time after the relationship has drawn to a close. She doesn't want to appear a crumpled mess, composure is everything.
She will not take him back, she thinks forcefully. No. She doesn't condone cheating, and she doesn't condone the uncomfortable position he's placed her in.
Glancing at the clock, she realize she'll be late if she doesn't pick something so she grabs anything from the closet and in the car, she tries not to concentrate on the fact that she picked red and he loves red. She wonders if her subconscious picked red purposely, if her heart is picking a fight on purpose. Her fingers grip the steering wheel tightly, and she consoles herself with positive thoughts; you can do this. It is high school, she thinks. High school relationships never have the ability to count for anything of importance. It's better that things ended now rather than having to deal with a messy end afterwards.
She pulls her car into the parking lot, and sits still for a minute. Her eyes are on the bright light of the sun reflecting from her window, and she laughs ruefully; even today is another day in the endless string of mockeries life bestows upon her. She leaves her car, slipping into the school unscathed, no one has noticed her arrival as of yet.
On the other side of the building, away from Rachel's eyes, Susan pounces on Puck. He tries not to groan when cornered. She smiles seductively up at him, twirling the edges of her hair between her fingers. Puck holds his vomit at bay while he stares at her expectantly; he wants to get this over with as soon as possible.
"I don't have cheer leading practice after school today."
Puck arches an eyebrow and can't help the thoughts falling through his brain; he gave up Rachel for this? He puts his fingers to his temple, massaging the headache slowly forming. Times like this makes him pine for alcohol to be located somewhere on school grounds.
"I could care less."
Susan frowns, the words slowly registering in her brain.
"What about two days ago?"
"It was a mistake and it sure as hell didn't mean anything. Now move, you're in my way."
He pushes her away, but considerately because he's never been the type to shove girls, and he continues his way to find Rachel. He finds her by her locker, slouching to avoid being seen amongst the crowd. His hand sticks out the grape concoction. He wears a quiet expression, and Rachel's eyes dart back and forth from his eyes to the drink. She looks at his outward hand, and she feels a wave of nausea hit her. She remembers the first time he brought her one, the first time it was an olive branch between the two. She shakes her head as a look of confusion settles into his eyes.
"Why not?" He asks finally, his voice is quiet. She watches as his fingers curl around the plastic cup, tightening and tightening and she can't help but wonder if the strength of his hands will be enough to break it. She doesn't stay long enough to find out. She closes her locker door and walks away, his eyes sharpening on her back.
Puck sighs at her reaction, discarding the drink into the nearest trash bin, and makes his way to the nurse's office. This day could use a good nap. He finds himself sleeping through the day, hauling his ass from the comfortable position when he notices it's time for Glee. He debates attending but sighing heavily, he makes his way over.
Rachel finds herself wishing Glee was canceled, a first for her. She loves Glee, she does; the ability to become lost in the music, to become complete with the words she cannot express. Still, his presence at Glee does nothing for her ability to concentrate, to focus. She had managed to avoid him for the entire day easily enough. They do not have classes together, and she hid in the library during lunch, her eyes reading the same lines over and over again.
On her way to Glee, Rachel quickly stops by the girl's bathroom, intent on washing her face and perhaps apply a coat of blush to hide the pale color she's aware is seeping into her cheeks. She wants to check her watch, keep aware that she is not running late for the afternoon but she knows that when she'll look at the clock, she'll always come to associate the time with her steps away from her first relationship. She sighs and figures being less than punctual once is unlikely to do any damage. Walking into the bathroom, her eyes glance in the mirror and she sees Susan standing there, fixing her make-up. Seeing Rachel walk in, her mouth turns into a widening smirk. Taking a deep breath, Rachel walks over to the mirror and resolves to keep the upper hand; she's intent on avoiding speaking to the girl. Rachel has never understood how easily girls can become involved with boys that are taken; how easily they cheat.
She blames them both.
"I can give him whatever he likes, you know."
Rachel looks at the other girl distastefully, her lip curling upwards with disgust. The nerve of her to speak.
"And what may that be?"
Susan looks at Rachel carefully, her eyes giving her a one over. She had expected the brunette to break down easily upon discovering the news of what happened but the other girl hasn't much less flinched.
"Obviously, whatever you couldn't provide."
"I wouldn't get too comfortable with that assumption if I were you. It's unlikely that you and Puck will be anything more than a passing fling in the backseat of his truck one time. He'll get bored of you and you'll just be another girl, one more in a set of nameless faces; like those cookie cutter dolls of paper."
Susan's eyes narrow and she flips her hair on the way out.
"You'll see," her voice carries as she walks away. Rachel rolls her eyes and breathes, walking slowly to the practice room. Her head is pounding, small lyrical notes that are worming their way into the base of her skull. She smiles mirthlessly, hoping that it would be a quiet day and Mr. Schuester will not pay her any attention. Glancing at the giddy expression on the teacher's face, she realizes she is out of luck. Mr. Schuester has this bright idea of dividing everyone into groups, another performance to test their abilities in unison.
"Rachel and Puck will take this song, I want to hear Puck with lead vocals again. I'll give you several minutes to rehearse. I know how much she likes to have the warm up exercises. The rest of you, please split into the groups you were assigned to."
Mr. Schuester claps his hands, looking delighted with himself for an ingenious idea. It came to him yesterday evening; he was preparing for today's rehearsal and it dawned upon him that Rachel and Puck have never sung a song together worthy of their caliber and he's seen them interact, their relationship on solid ground.
The Glee kids exchange glances amongst themselves, all of them exchanged in a internal debate as to who should break the news of the end. Nobody says anything as Rachel calmly walks over to the other side of the room, denying the others who anticipated a tantrum or her to storm out. Nothing of that sort happens, and Kurt tries to keep his jaw from falling onto the floor when he sees Rachel stick out her hand to Puck.
He takes it, gingerly, and he lets her lead him further away from the group; her hand dropping his it like it's fire when it's just the two of them. He puts his hands in his pockets and looks around sheepishly.
Awkward, he thinks.
"So," he says, breaking the silence first.
"So," she replies and he can't help but smile sadly at the answer. One syllable responses have never been her forte. He waits for her to continue, hesitant to carry the conversation. "I would prefer not to strain my vocal chords; I've already practiced so if you would like to engage in small talk so it looks as though we are occupied, we could."
She is being civil and has resumed their previous relations, the way they were prior to an entrance into a relationship. He didn't expect this. He doesn't know what he was expecting.
"I'm sorry I fucked things up."
She nods uncomfortably; this is not the road she had wanted the conversation to go.
"I'd rather not discuss this."
"Can you ever see me like you did once before?"
She looks away; something deep lodged in her throat. She finds herself starting and stopping, the words won't move past her vocals. It's quiet when she speaks, he wants to ignore the resignation in her voice.
"I would prefer if we became strangers."
He bites his lip, unsure how to proceed when he's granted with the silence following her statement; parts relieved when Mr. Schuester calls their name to perform.
He has to go first, and he nearly misses a note when he stares into her eyes.
Puck tries to make eye contact afterwards; perhaps there's hope yet but Rachel stares about his head, her gaze firmly planted on the items behind him. Her throat is tight, and she feels her singing; her inability to sing with emotion and passion and have it be up to par.
When the song is over, Mr. Schuester exclaims how amazing they sounded and Rachel tries not to throw up at his lies; vomit swimming in her throat. She curtsies, she doesn't even curtsy, and she promptly exits the room without a second glance. She walks into the auditorium and sits on the floor, attempting to steady her irregular breathing.
Her legs dangle off the stage, her palms downward on the cool surface. She stares out at the back of the auditorium, eyes on the ticking clock. It was just a gaze, she reassures herself. There was nothing more to the expression. He was being friendly. Friendly. She pushes the nagging thoughts from her mind, and continues to gaze outward.
Lost in thought, she doesn't hear someone sneak up behind her. She jumps when she feels their fingers tap on her shoulders, the rush of contact surprising her. She stands, her hand on her hip, a narrow expression tugging at the corners of her mind.
"You're Jesse. Jesse St. James," she says finally, his name uncomfortable on her lips. He sticks out his hand, her eyes gazing warily at the gesture. She should not be accepting handshakes with the enemy.
"And you're Rachel. Rachel Berry." He sticks out his hand again, and she gingerly takes it. They shake hands. She's surprised by the surface of his skin, how well it melds into hers. She drops his hand like fire when she realizes she's fraternizing with the enemy, wiping her palm against her checkered skirt.
The two of them stand there, awkwardly sizing each other.
"What are you doing here?" She asks him, aware they're standing in her auditorium, her territory. The enemy has surfaced on her turf, an unwelcome presence.
He shrugs, and holds out his palms as a gesture of friendliness.
"I'm not here to spy, if that's your main concern."
"Perhaps it is. We're three months from Regionals, and you're the enemy, located on unwanted territory."
He laughs, the sound foreign to her ears. She's never heard him laugh, or speak, really. She's only ever heard him sing, the strength of his voice carrying a well planned tune.
"Chill drama queen. I'm not here to spy. We're going to win, win with or without enemy secrets. I actually came for you."
"Me?" Rachel squeaks. She mentally chides herself for showing weakness. She should be stronger, possess a better defense field.
He nods, pulling a pen from his pocket. He writes his number on her palm, his fingers careful not to press in hard enough to smudge the numbers. Satisfied, Jesse pulls back, shooting her a lopsided grin. Rachel can't help but smile slightly, his enthusiasm is contagious.
"I hope you call, Rachel Berry. We have a lot to discuss."
He walks away, leaving a perplexed Rachel holding her hand. She finds herself smiling unexpectedly, her teeth tugging at her lower lip. She glances back at her palm, the casual blue ingraining itself into her memory.
She sits back on the auditorium floor, her thoughts rolling into a new direction. She is momentarily distracted from her thoughts on Puck, and she can't help but wonder what Jesse wants to discuss.