Chapter 4 : Revenge is best served cold.

Something is up. I am not sure exactly what my kids in Vocal Adrenaline are up to, but something is definitely afoot.

I am no saint. I knew they were going to TP McKinley to try and psych them out. Its what we do. I didn't encourage it, but neither did I intervene when I heard them discussing it. It was a harmless prank after all.

Of course McKinley then retaliated, at which point I decided to be magnanimous and not kick up a fuss. Mainly because they were provoked, and also because I have better and more important things to spend my time doing than going back and forth explaining and complaining to Principal Figgins.

Anyway, I thought that was the end of the matter. Until today. Contrary to urban myth and general popular belief, I do not have VA rehearsing every night after school. Largely because Principal O'Hare made me give them Wednesdays off, something to do with the need to keep up with homework.

Which is why, when keeping my general ear to the ground, I managed to gather that there is some McKinley high related plot about to go down after school today. In an effort to avoid a turf war, I have decided to follow them, and see if I can foil whatever it is they intend on doing.

They set off in a convoy of 5 just after school ends. I sneak out behind them, and take the back route to McKinley, getting stuck behind a slow moving garbage truck in the process. By the time I have pulled in to the parking lot , my kids have already arrived.

Killing the engine, I can see them stood in the distance, looking at something, or rather someone, I can't quite make out who from this distance. My phone chirps, and in the 5 seconds between me glancing down and deciding to ignore the message that has been sent, and looking back up again, the first egg is thrown.

It all happens so quickly that it takes a second or two for my brain to catch up with my vision and for me to comprehend what is going on. They are egging someone, and just at that point in time, Carrie steps to the side, and I can see exactly who the eggs are being aimed at.

I thought to 'have your blood run cold' was the kind of thing that only happened in horror novels

I have never felt an emotion like it, and I still can't quite describe the exact feeling that came over me, it was almost like being punched in the stomach. whether it was anger, rage, or a deeply hidden and hitherto unmanifested maternal instinct to protect my offspring I don't know, but all I did know was that I had to get over there and put myself between them and Rachel.

I scrambled out of the car and my feet hit the ground just when Jessie was stepping back from Rachel. Moving faster than I ever thought possible I reach the scene as they are all sauntering back to their cars, mission accomplished.

Their backs are to Rachel who has covered her face in her hands to hide her tears, but the slumped shoulders which keep shaking are a sure sign she is crying. She is stood all alone in a puddle of shell and egg-white, the front of her clothes are stained yellow, her beautiful hair is matted with yoke and there is a nearly a fully formed egg shell stuck to the side of her head.

"what the HELL do you think you are doing" I shout.

My VA kids, clearly not expecting me to be there, jump about 2ft in the air, before slowly turning round to face me. It would be comical, were the circumstances different.

They at least have the good grace to look sheepish. Well some of them do, the others look petulant and 3 of them are so scared they are looking at the floor.

"Look at ME" I continue, " This is crossing a line. You do not EVER pick on one individual person. It is cruel, it is mean, it is bullying."

They are starting to look worried now. Serves them right. I am livid. They have seen me angry over the years, but never this angry.

"I want to see every single one of you in my office tomorrow morning at 7am sharp. Do not even think about not showing up, not if you value your physical well being. Now get out of my sight. You are a disgrace."

They all but run to their cars, fire up the engines and drive off.

I approach Rachel, and my heart just bleeds for her.

"Rachel?"

"Go away" comes the tiny voice, muffled through her hands.

"Sweetie, we have to go get you cleaned up." I take her hands away from her face, and she doesn't resist.

" I didn't know they were planning this" I say, gingerly trying to remove pieces of shell from her hair. It's all drying now and is getting hard to pick out.

She nods mutely.

"How about I give you a lift home?"

Again she simply nods and follows me limply to my car.

"Do you still live on Vine and Rosebury?" I ask.

This earns me an inquisitive look, especially for the 'still' part. That is another story I will share at some stage.

"yes"

"Will your dads be home?"

"No. Daddy's case is in closing, and Dad has his pottery class this evening, so they won't be home til late." and I have to say I am some what relieved. Speaking to James and Leroy over the phone is one thing, seeing them face to face again is another.

"Do you want me to call them?" .

"No" she shakes her head fiercely. " They didn't really like Jesse. Daddy will get all angry, and Dad will get upset."

Jesse. That boy is going to spend the rest of his life singing Soprano by the time I have finished with him. I want to ask what went on, but I don't think my probing will be welcomed.

We continue the drive in silence. Pulling up to the Berry house, I have already decided I am going inside. Memories be dammed.

Rachel to her credit at least seems to realise that she won't get rid of me that easily. She may not feel comfortable discussing the finite details of her relationships with me, but I am company, if nothing else.

Rachel opens the door and shuffles inside, me trailing in her wake.

The Entrance hall in my memories, was cream, with black and white panoramic photos. Its now light brown, and the photos of city skylines have been replaced by photo upon photo of Rachel.

"I'm going to take a shower" Rachel tells me, in a flat tone.

"Wash your hair in cold water" I advise

She raises an eyebrow

"I won't cause the egg to scramble" I explain. Yeah I've had stuff thrown at me in the past. Not for a long while, and never by students, but I am not unfamiliar with getting substances other than shampoo out of my hair.

"I'll make you a cup of tea for when you've finished." I am rewarded with a small smile.

With the sound of running water above, I allow myself the time to look at the homage to the life of Rachel Berry that covers the walls. The photos to the extreme left are of her as baby, I can't look at those they are too painful. I move 3 inches to the right and find myself looking at the kindergarten years.

Rachel, age 5 or 6, judging by my niece, on stage, holding a microphone, arms held out in exaggerated show style. Something tells me she was a pageant child. Moving along, Rachel, a little older, gripping the bar, during a ballet rehearsal, face set in concentration. Next up, school photo, slightly older still, more posed, but with a big wide smile that reveals slightly crooked teeth waiting to be corrected by braces.

Overhead I hear the water shut off, and reluctantly tear myself away to go boil the kettle. The kitchen is almost exactly the same as I remember it, and luckily I find my way around it easily.

In fact it is so familiar that I am almost overwhelmed by the memories, and I just want to turn and run, leave and never come back. But I can't, because its not about me anymore, or not just about me.

My hands are shaking as I make the tea. The soft pad of slippers on hardwood alert me to Rachel's presence. "Do you take sugar?" I ask, my back still to her, trying to force my tear ducts under control.

"No, thank you."

"Good, because I think you're out." I bring the mugs over to the table and set one down in front of Rachel.

She smells of citrus and freshly done laundry. Her skin in still flushed from the shower and she looks much younger than her years. She is staring at the mug as if it contains the all the answers of the universe. I can almost see her brain ticking, she clearly has something on her mind.

"Mom?"

"Yes"

"I…" she pauses, and then continues "I just wanted to say I don't blame you. I know you would have stopped them if you could."

"Thank you. That's nice to know. Believe me, they will be suffering tomorrow."

"I appreciate you driving me back here, but I think I just want to be by myself. I think I might get an early night."

"If you're sure" I say, because I feel as if that is what I ought to say, when really all I want to do is escape this house.

"Yes, I'll be fine. Honest."

"Ok then. I'd probably better be going home. I need to get up early tomorrow to give VA a piece of my mind."

We both stand up, I lean inward to rub her shoulder, but next thing I know I have kissed her forehead. Where did that come from? We both look a little shocked, well she looks shocked, I feel shocked. Hugs, forehead kissing? I' turning soft…

"See you soon." I say "lets do something after regional's."

"Yes." she replies.

I step out on to the porch, the door shutting behind me. The fresh air is soothing, the memories are fading, and soon I breathe freely again.