Rachel was pacing in her living room as Kurt, Mercedes, Artie, and Tina watched. Artie held in his hand the list that Quinn had given her earlier.
"There has to be a way," the brunette muttered to herself, spinning to walk back the way she'd just come.
"Honey, don't take this the wrong way," Kurt told her, looking at Mercedes. "But I don't think Quinn wants to help you."
"Of course she doesn't want to help me," Rachel replied, reaching the end of the room and flipping back again. "That's why I have to do this; it's the only way she will."
"But Diva," Mercedes said, leaning forward to grab Rachel's hand as she passed them on the couch. "How can you possibly get—what does it say again Artie?"
"One handle of Zubrowka Bison Grass Vodka ; one of Bacardi 51; two handles of Jose Cuervo; three beer kegs; and eight cases of wine coolers," Artie recited, reading down the list.
"You couldn't even pass for eighteen," Kurt said matter-of-factly. "No chance for twenty-one."
"And there's not enough time to get hold of a fake ID," Tina added.
"Plus how would we get all that booze in less than twenty-four hours?" Mercedes finished.
Rachel shook her head stubbornly. "There's got to be a way!" she insisted, beginning to pace again. "How do the jocks normally get their alcohol?" she asked aloud.
Kurt scoffed. "Begging, bribery, and burglary," he answered. "And none of it on the same level as any of this stuff."
"I researched prices online," Rachel rambled on. "I have the money; I just need to find the means of acquiring it."
"Really Rachel," Artie asked. "Is Puck even worth risking this? Worth wasting your time on doing something for Quinn when she probably has nothing to offer?"
The rain pattered on the window, and he held her close as she tried to regain her composure. The hockey players had pulled a triple whammy: slushying her in the morning,, "accidentally" spilling their cafeteria sludge on her notes and sheet music during lunch, and vandalizing her locker sometime between the end of school and the end of Glee practice. She hadn't let them see it affect her, of course, but ever since she got home and cleaned out her backpack, she'd been somewhat disheartened.
"Someday I'll be far away from all of this, giving a speech for my fifth Tony, and those Neanderthals will be scraping gum off of the bottom of desks," she mumbled as he combed his fingers through her hair.
"I swear I'll kick their asses," he'd muttered furiously.
She shook her head, still buried in his chest. "They're not worth it," she'd told him.
The silence went on as she listened to him breathing. "I'll bet your last relationship wasn't this tricky." She sighed, smiling sadly. "Maybe it would have been easier for both of us if I hadn't gone to that party."
He paused for a moment, then shook his head as he hugged her tight. "Maybe; but as lame as it sounds, I think I'd miss you even if we'd never met."
She hadn't connected the dots at the time, but the next day she'd heard from someone in her Biology class Puck had gotten into a fight with three of those in the offending party, "just because they'd looked at him wrong."
Rachel stopped pacing and faced her friends. "I don't expect anything more than to talk to him," she told them with complete sincerity. "But I know I need that, and anything I can do to make that happen, I have to."
They sat (and stood) in silence for a moment, taking in the statement. She wondered if her friends could possibly understand how important this was, how much she needed to make this right with him. It had nothing to do with the sex, or getting him back; it was making sure that he didn't stop being Noah just because she had been an idiot.
"I think I have an idea," Tina said, causing everyone to look at her.
Quinn Fabray was directing the kegs in her backyard. She only had two due to stupid Karofsky not coming through, and so she had to make them last by spacing them out. Her eyes widened in surprise and confusion when she heard the doorbell ring and Brittany calling out that the Drinking Fairy had arrived.
She walked to the door and stared out at the driveway, desperately trying to keep her jaw from hitting the ground. Parked in the driveway was a handicap van, and out of it Matt and Mike were unloading kegs, liquor, and wine coolers. She couldn't count from here, but judging from the triumphant look on ManHands' face, she was willing to bet that the entire list was present and accounted for.
She strode to the van, listening as Matt and Mike congratulated her on her mad skills.
"Yeah, we thought we were going to be short," Mike told her, pulling out a handle of tequila. "But this is gonna be awesome!"
"Yeah, totally kick ass Berry!" Matt told her, grabbing one end of a keg as he rolled it from the van to the dolly.
Quinn shook her head in disbelief. "No way," she said. "How could you possibly—?"
Rachel just smiled. She wasn't going to tell Quinn that Tina had called in a huge favor from her aunts who worked in a wholesale store out in Dayton and borrowed Artie's family's van in order to drive up there, purchase, and transport said alcohol just this morning in order to arrive at 4:30 pm at Quinn Fabray's door.
"That was the terms of our agreement, wasn't it?" She asked instead, watching as the Brittany gave directions to the boys making their way through the door. "I brought the list in case you wanted to check."
Quinn wanted to scream at being bested by damn Rachel Berry, but she instead maintained her cool and slapped on a smile. "No need," she assured the brunette. "I'm sure it's all there."
"In fact," she continued, a new plan developing as she spoke. "Why don't you stop by tonight? Maybe we can work on wearing Puck down while he's here."
Rachel felt an uneasy twinge. "I don't want to impose…" she stalled, trying to find sensible grounds for refusal.
"Nonsense," Quinn argued. "You covered most of the costs; you should be here. Plus, it'll be fun."
Rachel, seeing no polite way out, reluctantly agreed to return in five hours after being assured that the rest of Glee Club would be there as well ("Of course," Quinn had said. "We're all friends, aren't we?)
And so, at 9:30 pm, Rachel approached the Fabray household wearing dark jeans and a simple pink tank with lace bordering across the v-neck.
She felt out of place, saw the mocking stares and not-so-quiet whispers of those who bothered to pay her any mind. She easily noticed the difference between this party and the last she'd attended, and found herself wishing desperately for her mask again. She saw no sign of the other Glee members, and so she instead weaved through the party searching for Quinn or (she hoped) Noah.
Suddenly she felt someone tap her. She looked up into the face of Finn and smiled in relief that she was friends with at least one person there.
"Rachel!" he exclaimed in surprise. "What are you doing here?"
Rachel smiled at her friend. "Quinn invited me to tonight's gathering to aid me in my attempt to confront and communicate with Noah, for which I was so grateful I offered to contribute to her supply of beverages." It wasn't exactly true, but she didn't wish to speak ill of the blonde to her friend, so she stuck with the skewed version.
"That's great Rache!" Finn replied, looking unsure of seventy-five percent of the words that had come out of her mouth. "I'm glad she could help you more than me," Finn admitted, leading her toward the kegs.
As the night wore on, Rachel stayed close to Finn, hoping that he would lead her to his girlfriend at the very least. She found it strange that the blonde was nowhere in sight however, especially since her boyfriend seemed easily visible as he towered over the others.
And then she saw him. Sure, he was acting like before, like Puck, as he did a keg stand and pushed around the other jocks, but she saw her Noah, and when he turned, laughing, he locked eyes with hers and she offered a tentative smile as she took a step toward him.
Suddenly a tape recorder was shoved into her face and her view was blocked by none other than Jacob Ben-Israel.
"Rachel Berry," he said loudly. "Is it true that you've been stalking Noah Puckerman in an attempt to bolster your own popularity? That you in fact crashed this party in order to be seen in the same vicinity as him and add substance to the aforementioned allegations?"
"What? No!" Rachel blushed furiously and tried to back up, but suddenly the room was very crowded, as half the room was standing engrossed by the drama, and the other half was arguing how two losers had made it into the party in the first place.
Rachel watched as Azimio roughly grabbed Jacob by the shoulders, informing him, "Freak, you must've misread the invite—it said you're welcome to the Fabray's dumpster, not their house." With wide eyes she watched as, cheering loudly, they hauled him toward the trash cans out back.
She looked desperately back to where Noah had been, but he was gone; had disappeared once again rather than speak to her. When she turned back to the many faces still glaring at hers, she realized she was undoubtedly next.
When a hand grabbed her shoulder, she jumped in fear. Her heart rate slowed to a more level pace when she saw it was Finn, reacting quickly to move her out of the area before the crowd could decide what to do with her.
As they made their way to the street, however, she felt her eyes brimming with tears. She hadn't paid much attention to the specifics of what people whispered, and now she was glad for it.
"Is that really what people are saying?" she asked softly. Finn didn't respond, just hugged her close and steered her to her car. He drove her home and stayed with her until she finished her glass of water and insisted she was fine. After an awkward pause he moved to leave, reassuring her that he could walk home no sweat.
Under normal circumstances, she would have asked him to stay, played the role of dutiful hostess as she was taught by her fathers; tonight, however, she just wanted to sleep and forget.