Thanks for your intrigue in this story, I hope it delivers! Oh, and Happy Glee Premiere Night!
I walk down the hallway, well it's more like a bounce, I bounce through the halls. It could be because I barely got any sleep last night, but I was feeling refreshed, vibrant. Perhaps it's because of the prospect of making a new friend, or maybe it was because the Quinn Fabray confided in me some of her deepest and darkest secrets that I'm sure no one else knew about. Even if other people did know about these things, I still can't help but feel privileged to be let past the 50 foot high brick wall that Quinn keeps around her at all times, and that's after you get past the invisible force field. I've yet to see the cheerleader today; I haven't seen her since we both voluntarily laid down on my bed, tired of sitting upright. She was securely tucked into my body when I finally allowed my heavy eyelids to close for good. My arm was still around her body regardless of how many times I attempted to move it away when I thought she'd had enough of the patterns I was drawing in order to soothe her. Quinn surprised me when she would shift, let out a whine and blindly find my arm in order to bring it back to the spot it had previously been in. When I woke up her perfume was still lingering in the air, it was just about the only evidence I had that it wasn't just a dream, that and the still warm spot next to me letting me know she must have left moments before I woke. I wasn't so much disappointed as I was anxious to see how she would act towards me in school today; knots have been in my stomach since I stepped into this building early this morning. It's almost lunch time and I'm quite excited about the homemade salad that I made for lunch.
I shut my locker; I chance a look down both ends of the hallway, an army of red breaks through the crowd ceremoniously. Quinn is in the middle of the pack and rightfully so. Her hazel eyes meet mine and I feel like I've been knocked off my feet, her gaze is deep and penetrating. I want to smile, I try to smile. A rush of cold hits my face before I can do anything, effectively paralyzing all of my movements. It's icy, it's sticky, and it's painful, in more ways than one. The humiliation I feel is probably the worst part; my eyes are down on the floor, my head lowers, allowing most of the red gook to slide off of my body like it always does. The dripping subsides so I look up towards my onlookers, wishing myself to be anywhere but in this claustrophobic tunnel. The entire hallway is giggling at how pathetic I look; it hurts more than I care to admit. I can't make out the face of the owner of the trademark varsity jacket that is holding the inconveniently large big gulp cup; I have a feeling I know who the culprit is though. My eyes zoom in on Quinn, I almost forgot that she had just witnessed the entire thing, she's not laughing, and it's almost worse. She's acting like she doesn't even know who I am, like she's completely unaffected by everything that just happened. I don't know why I feel that it's worse than her laughing at me, maybe it's because at least then she would be acknowledging me.
I don't let another moment waste before I'm practically running in the opposite direction of the mob scene that I was just the main attraction of, I can't even bother to care about where I'm going. I find the first bathroom and I just want to take refuge in here for the rest of the day, I know I can't but it doesn't hurt to wish. The bell rings loudly, signaling that classes are about to start. I sigh; my homemade salad that I was so excited for seems so insignificant now. I made a vow to myself long ago that I wouldn't cry over things as petty as this, but something about today's humiliation seems different from the other days, it was far more upsetting. If I'm honest with myself, I know it's because of Quinn's reaction, I don't know why I was hoping for her to at least look somewhat sympathetic, and after all that happened yesterday. I don't stay up until four in the morning listening to people's problems for my health; I thought we were forging a friendship. Sadly I'm mistaken. Against my better judgment, there's still a sliver of my being that still holds hope for the blonde. Images and flashes of Quinn rushing into the bathroom to rescue me from my shame are playing in my over imaginative mind. I hate that I'm such a believer in far-fetched fantasies; it's been nearly ten minutes and all I feel is foolish. Quinn doesn't care about me, the sooner I get that into my head, the sooner I can forget this horrible day. I study myself in my mirror and see that at least my tears are dry, I glance down at the sink, noticing my knuckles are white as I grip the sink. I slowly relieve my hands of their tension and finally the staring contest with myself is over.
I begin my ritual clean up preparation, not leaving out my Tony Award acceptance speech for best lead actress in a musical, I make sure to thank the kids of McKinley High for never believing in me. Without their doubts I would have never made it. I smile as I'm transformed into an older version of myself, a successful Broadway singer about to sign a multi-million dollar contract after being cast in the lead role of Spring Awakening the Movie, the role I was born to play. I feel calm, sometimes my far-fetched fantasies are able to bring me solace and I'm grateful for that. I'm finally satisfied with my appearance as most of the corn syrup is out of my hair, and now I can move onto stage two, wardrobe change. It helps to mask to reality of it all by using humor and theatre vocabulary. I eye my homemade salad, gnawing on my lip pensively. This morning when I made it, I imagined myself chewing happily while I sat at the Glee table, Quinn stealing shy looks when she thought I wasn't paying attention. I sigh, grab the Tupperware and go to the empty choir room where I can sulk in my embarrassment before I have to put on a showbiz face, and it's emotionally draining most days.
Something like this has never happened before, the color is entirely drained from my face, I never thought I'd be here in the same fashion as I was earlier. It hurts. I look down to my clothes, ruined. I can faintly hear the last bell of the day, which means that I've spent almost 40 minutes in this small confined bathroom, 40 more minutes out of my day that I have to feel sorry for myself because nobody else does. My stomach turns at the thought of my father's face when he discovers not one, but two outfits were ruined today. I can't bear the look of sadness when he realizes that his little gold star doesn't shine as brightly anymore and how could I possibly shine when so many people want to cut off my light supply. I take deep even breaths, hoping to calm my cries. I keep coming back to the look on my parent's face, I know they're embarrassed but they'd never admit it, their pained features breaks my already broken heart. I wonder how much longer I can take this torture before I snap, no one should be afraid to walk down the hallways of their own school; no one should have to have their personal space be so violated day in and day out. The thought of having to bring three outfits to school each morning makes me sick to my stomach to the point where I think I'm about to throw up, I can feel saliva in my mouth loosen, a tell tale sign that my stomach content is about to come back up. I fight off the feeling, I desperately search for my happy place, I continue my deep breathing as I try to focus on the famous people that will be at my dinner parties one day. Do I use the wine that Beyonce gave me as a gift? The paparazzi that hides behind the bushes thinks that I'm dumb because he doesn't seem to believe that I'm perceptive enough to know he's there. I wonder if one day I'll be as affected by the tabloid rumors as I am about getting slushied everyday. I still haven't decided which would be worse. The slam of the door breaks me out of my musings.
"Rachel?"
My head shoots up once I hear my name, my vision is slightly blurry which is to be expected but I know exactly who it is. I grimace when I see her face, I feel my saliva loosen again and it gets worse when I realize that she's the one making me sick to my stomach.
"Leave me alone" I've never heard my words come out in such a fashion, I wince at the cruelness behind them, I wonder if I've finally snapped.
Quinn winces as well; it almost makes me want to take my words back, almost. Her eyes are all over me, taking in my appearance, I feel so violated.
"Have you been in here since lunch?" she asks
Since lunch? I can't help but laugh; I was stupid to think that maybe the blonde didn't know it was me that got slushied. I look to the floor at the small drops of color on the grimy tiles, my hands are still gripping the sink incase my knees decide to give out again, "I've never been slushied twice in one day before" I reply dryly.
The reaction she has is not expected, her hand comes up to cover her mouth, her eyes wide, even a gasp escapes her mouth. She's either truly shocked or a phenomenal actress, I growl at the thought of her being a better actress than me. She takes a few steps forward, I panic. I panic worse than if it was a stranger following me down a dark deserted road. My heart hammers in my chest, my air is gone, and I can't believe I have this reaction to her. I'm scared of her. I hold out my pointer finger, it appears as though she's dismissing the gesture. Figures, why would the head cheerleader listen to anything.
I find my voice, "Don't come near me" I'm broken, and she can hear it in my voice when she stops short.
"Rach—" For a brief moment I see panic on her face as well.
"Please just go" I barely choke out.
Quinn almost concedes to my request, she turns to leave defeated before spinning back around to look at me.
"Is this some kind of trick? You're telling me to leave to see if I'll stay?" she asks softly.
While my heart swells at the thought of her attempting to figure me out, at least caring enough to figure me out, it's not enough to keep down the bile in my throat.
"Some kind of trick?" I ask , "I'm not some kind of game Quinn"
She begins to backtrack on her words at my reaction, stumbling over syllables, her demeanor so obviously uncharacteristic. I'm willing her to say something, anything that will make me feel better, but at the same time I don't even want to give her the chance.
"I know, I—"
"Just, leave me alone please. Besides, you're pretty good at pretending I don't exist" I cut her off, not caring about how cold I sound.
Quinn stays silent, hurt flashes through her eyes, regret suffocates her lungs, and for the first time I wish that she was in fact acting. She nods; a tear spills over her eye lid at the movement, without another word she's out the door. It slams behind her and I can't contain the sob that escapes out of me, I got what I wanted, she left. It doesn't feel like I thought it would.
My eyelids droop closed, the heaviness is something I can't deny any longer. I muster up a bit more strength and glance at the clock, nearly eleven o'clock on a Saturday night. I wish I wasn't such a loser. I guess I'm happy that an appropriate hour of sleep has finally arrived; 8pm would have just been pathetic.
Visions swirl around in my head, I know I'm about to fall asleep because none of the thoughts in my head are coherent, sometimes it scares me when I'm about to fall asleep because I can feel it happening. I realize that my fears don't have time to escalate because normally within seconds I'm sound asleep, dead to the outside world.
I hear the familiar sound of Bette Midler's voice in her classic rendition of You Don't Own Me, it's a liberating song that I find myself humming more and more these days. While I can never curse the icon that is Bette Midler, I let the profanity escape my lips anyway. I sigh and reach over to my nightstand, I study the unknown number for a bit, it's not one that I've seen before, the odds that Gene Kelly was hit by a car are nil, maybe someone wants to hang out.
I flip open the cell phone before the ringing stops, "Hello?"
"Berry? It's Santana" the girl whispers harshly.
I sit straight up; my confusion goes to worry in record time.
"Is everything okay? How did you get this number?"
"Quinn had it in her phone"
My heart flutters at the mention of the blonde's name; I push aside the betraying feeling to get to the bottom of this strange call.
"Why are you whispering?" I ask, even though I'm extremely overtired, I'm still quite perceptive.
"Quinn doesn't know I'm calling you"
Once again, this nervous feeling is leaving my mouth dry.
"Is everything okay?" I ask again, hoping the panic in my voice is masked when I clear my throat.
"Frankly? No."
"I'm not sure I understand why you're calling me" I swallow.
Thoughts race through my mind, my heart drops when I think about the worst case possible scenarios, all surrounding Quinn. Suddenly a Gene Kelly phone call doesn't seem half as frightening.
"Q locked herself in the bathroom over an hour ago and refuses to come out" she tells me bluntly, in pure Santana fashion.
"So why call me?" I reiterate.
"Because she won't talk to anyone that isn't you right now, and honestly, it's starting to piss me off"
"I appreciate your concern for your friend but," I close my eyes, hoping to get these words out without her hearing how badly they hurt me, "this doesn't concern me, Quinn is a big girl—"
"Look Berry, I don't care for you all that much, I put up with you for the sake of Glee, understand? Quinn is one of my best friends and for the last two days she's been walking around like a zombie, and hasn't talked about anyone other than you, do you understand now why I'm calling you?" though she may not be the head bitch in charge still, she sure remembered how to play the role.
I clear my throat, "What do you want me to do?" I ask after debating it in my head.
"I'll be at your house in 5 to pick you up"
I don't even get a chance to give her a reply before the line goes dead; I begrudgingly get out of bed and search around for something to wear. My silk nightgown would not cut it this time. I hate that I'm at Quinn's every beck and call regardless of how many times that she's hurt me. Still a part of me can't help but squeal at the thought that Quinn was only talking about me, me. She only wants to speak with me.
I sneak down the stairs in the same fashion as a few nights prior, sitting on the steps until I see headlights down the street. Once I'm positive that it's Santana I walk up to the door and slip inside the warm interior, it's a strange feeling being inside of her car. She gives me a tight smile, most likely out of force, and pulls away a moment later. I try to take in my surroundings as clues as to where she's taking me, part of me panics that this is one big scheme in order to get me out of the safety of my home. I pray they're not going to humiliate me when we get to our destination. The other part of me knows that they would never use their friend's distress as bait to get to me, or would they?
"Where are we going?" I ask after some silence.
"Brittany's. Mandatory Cheerios sleepover" She tells me, answering my next question as well.
"Sant—"
"Look, I don't know why she has a sudden fascination with you but I've never seen her like this, so just save whatever you're about to say to me and just say it to my friend okay? I'm not blaming you, she's already blamed herself, but you're the only one that can help her right now"
I close my mouth quickly and sit silent for the remainder of the car ride, we pull into a long drive way and the engine shuts down.
As we walk up the steps to the door Santana speaks up, "She's upstairs in Brittany's bathroom"
The cheerleader pushes open the door and we both make our way up the staircase, Brittany is sitting next to the door with her forehead against it, scratching it with her fingers.
"Quinnie, I'll bake you cookies" the blonde girl promises.
"Anything?" Santana asks the girl as she stands to her feet at our presence.
The blonde shakes her head sadly before looking towards me, "Thanks for coming, you can stay here as long as you need to" She give me a small smile, it breaks my heart.
Santana places a gentle arm around Brittany's shoulders and pulls her close, I envy the motion, "We'll leave you two up here, we'll be in the basement with the rest of the girls if you need anything" she tells me.
Both of them throw me one last sad smile before they shut the bedroom door softly behind them. I put my bag on the bed and sigh; I take a few moments to collect my thoughts while I walk around the room, taking in the sight of her décor. I never thought I would be at a cheerleading sleepover in a thousand years, I never thought I would be in Brittany's house either. I smile at a few of the photos she has framed; mostly they are of her and Santana, a few have Quinn in them. I gaze at one in particular; Quinn's breathtakingly beautiful when she doesn't even try. A photo of the glee club hides behind a few frames and I can't stop the smile that creeps up onto my face, my heart feels warm. I hear a whimper coming from the bathroom, breaking me out of my moment; I remember why I'm here in the first place.
I hesitantly bring my hand to the white door, knocking softly.
"Seriously guys, go away" the irritation in Quinn's voice is so evident.
"It's Rachel" I tell her softly.
I can hear her trademark scoff through the door, "B, seriously if you pretend to be Rachel one more time I'm going to kill you"
I'm struggling to contain my giggles, I find it cute that the girls were trying to lure her out with fake impersonations of me, the weight of the situation comes down on me, "It is me"
"Go away"
Surely Quinn truly believed that it was still Brittany impersonating me. It's time to pull out the heavy artillery.
"Quinn Fabray you open this door right this instant or I will be forced to call your mother, or even worse, sing show tunes until your ears bleed, and I have almost every Spice Girls song in my repertoire"
I hide my smile as I hear the blonde shuffling around in the bathroom, the lock clicks and the door opens a second later to reveal a shocked and crying Quinn. Her eyes are wide and a second later the door slams in my face, the lock clicking once again.
"What are you doing here?" she asks, so closely that it feels like her lips are vibrating off of the door.
I sigh, deciding honesty is always the best policy, "Santana called me" I tell her.
"Dammit S" she hisses to herself, "You shouldn't be here"
"Just like you shouldn't be in the bathroom crying right?" I decide the only way that we will make progress is if I speak in a tone that will resonate with the fierce cheerleader.
After a few moments of silence, I grow impatient, letting her hear my huff of frustration. "Fine, if you're going to be stubborn, I'm not going to waste any more of my precious sleep time on trying to make you feel better. Goodbye Quinn" I say into the door before I take a few steps back toward the main bedroom door, I open it and close it for effect. I tiptoe back towards the bathroom door, hoping that my ploy will work.
"Wait, Rachel" the blonde yells, fiddling with the lock and swinging the door opened, she takes a few steps out into the room to see me smiling at her with my hands behind my back.
Quinn is trying to hide her smile as she can see my triumphant smirk of victory.
"You tricked me" she accuses with no real accusatory tone.
I shrug as I walk over to the bed and take a seat on the edge of it, I don't bother patting the spot next to me, I'll just assume that Quinn will take the hint.
"Why did you come?" she asks
"Despite my better judgment, I do care about you Quinn." I pause to look towards the cheerleader, who is only looking toward the carpet. "Even if you don't care about me"
At my words, her head shoots up, she could get whiplash by how quickly she turned to look at me.
"I do care about you"
I laugh softly, dangling my feet as I study the ceiling, "You sure have a funny way of showing it"
Out of the corner of my eye I can see that she's opening and closing her mouth, speechless.
"Are you going to tell me why I'm here?" I ask once it is clear that the cheerleader has nothing to say for herself.
"Because Santana called you?"
"Because apparently you wouldn't talk to anyone that wasn't me" I tell her.
Hazel eyes are anywhere but on my brown ones as she sits next to me, she is avoiding my gaze and I've just about had enough of her silence.
I turn to grab my bag off of the bed behind me; I'm getting ready to make an actual exit this time, and in theatrical fashion. I feel stupid. I can't believe that I got out of my warm and comfortable bed to tend to someone that is most likely just being overdramatic and stubborn.
Slender fingers clutch around my tiny wrist just as I'm about step down from the edge of the bed, my eyes went directly to the hand that imposed on my personal space and then to the eyes of my trespasser.
"Please don't leave" she says quickly, her eyes wide and fearful.
I snatch my wrist back, uncomfortable with the heat radiating off of her clammy palms. I fold my arms across my chest; I'm ready to hear some sort of explanation.
"I'm sorry" she says softly, "About yesterday" she adds.
I can hardly believe my ears, is Quinn Fabray actually apologizing, and to me?
"I should have stopped Karofsky, or at least followed you into the bathroom" she admits.
I had a feeling that it was the boy that was the culprit of both slushie incidents, I like to chalk it up to either theories that the boy is threatened by me or that he has an insanely difficult time expressing his secret love for me, only able to show his adoration via slushies and insults.
"It was the least I could of done after all you did for me the night before" she says softly, chancing a glance at me in my silent state, probably to see if I was accepting of her apology.
I finally found my voice, "You hurt me" I admit softly, not sure where my courage came from to confess such a thing.
She recoils at my words, or maybe it was the disappointment in my tone.
Quinn lets out a shaky breath, "I'm sorry Rachel"
The regret hangs in the air between us for a few soundless seconds.
I run a wobbly hand through my hair, unsure of what to do or say next.
"Why did you lock yourself in the bathroom?" I ask finally.
Quinn is tracing the lifelines of her palm by the time my question reaches her ears, she takes a deep breath, I hope that she is able to get through her reasoning without breaking down again.
"Puck is out with someone right now"
My hand immediately goes to comfort the blonde's shoulder, before I could tell my brain not to. I'm about to offer her some words of encouragement but she doesn't seem to need them as she presses on.
"My dad was in my kitchen this morning when I woke up, he was in his bathrobe"
The far off look in her hazel eyes is almost that of a serial killer recalling the things that he's done in the past, it's quite unsettling and I'm frightened that this girl is broken beyond repair. I push down the feeling that those words bring and find my strength to speak some words of comfort.
"I'm sorry that you have to be upset about those things Quinn"
She practically scoffs, it confuses me to say the least.
"I'm upset," she pauses leaving me on edge, "that I hurt the only person I wanted to talk to" she says softly, rubbing her palms up and down her sweatpants, a nervous habit I'm presuming.
My heart aches at her confession. I continue to massage her shoulders in an effort to communicate that I was still here and listening.
"I'll leave my home again before I live with my father" she tells me strongly, her voice unwavering for the first time all night.
By the tone alone I can tell that she's the most serious about this statement.
"You're the strongest person I know Quinn" I tell her sincerely, halting my hand and letting it linger on her shoulder, I squeeze it for effect.
For the first time since moving to the bed, hazel eyes turned to meet mine, I can see how grateful she is just by the look that she is giving me. It's saying everything that I know she's too scared to admit.
She laughs quietly under her breath, most likely to ease the serious moment, "I'm glad you're here, but you didn't have to come ya know"
I playfully roll my eyes, "Try telling that to Santana"
Quinn's playful smile turns into a small frown, "Did she threaten you? Hurt you in anyway?" she asks worriedly.
"No, no not at all" I tell her softly, consoling her worries, "I guess she was just concerned about you"
The blonde nods once before sighing, "So I guess you have to go back home huh?"
I frown, I don't want to leave but I know that my fathers will be more than upset with me once they find out that I snuck out of the house, regardless of the reason. I curse myself for not just waking them up and explaining the situation. I weigh my options in my head, my mind may be playing tricks on me but it's almost as if Quinn wants me to stay. I know my fathers have the tendency to have an initial reaction of anger but within minutes I know it will be subsided and they will understand that this was something that I had to do. That it is important to me. I survey Quinn again; her hopeful eyes are not lost on me.
"I guess another hour wouldn't hurt" I shrug knowing I made the right decision when I see how her face lights up at my words.
"Really?" Quinn asks in reassurance, "I promise I'll drive you home whenever you want to leave" she tells me, as if still trying to convince me.
"So, should we go downstairs with the rest of them?" I ask, unsure of what to do next.
I giggle when Quinn doesn't even bother trying to hide her grimace, "Do you want to go downstairs?"
I scrunch up my nose, "I suppose not"
Quinn looks around the room as if something will pop up out of midair for us to do, I know I wouldn't mind just talking to the girl for the next hour, and part of my believes that Quinn feels the same way but will never admit it. Besides, if the conversation turns back down the path of upsetting topics, I wouldn't want to be the reason that she cries again. Her eyes land on the television.
"We could watch a movie?"
I laugh, "Something tells me that Brittany's movie collection consists of made-for-TV children's programs"
Quinn chuckles something angelic as she heaves herself off of the bed, she kneels on the carpet and begins digging through the movies, tossing aside some of the options that I'm assuming matched my prediction.
"Disney?" she peers over her shoulder at me as I got more comfortable on the bed, laying on my stomach, propped up on a pillow.
"I stand corrected. Disney movies are everything that is right with America today. A perfect blend of musical, fantasy, romance, drama, and comedy"
I can tell that the blonde has no idea what to reply with and she smiles anyway, she even allows me to pick out which specific Disney movie I'd like to watch. Of course she vetoes a few of my choices and after 5 minutes we finally settle on watching Beauty and the Beast. I don't mind our light banter, in fact I welcome it. Her orbs dance with amusement as she bickers with me, rolling her eyes when I say something that she disagrees with. I smile at how easily it comes to us.
Quinn mirrors my position on the bed; she lies beside me on a pillow of her own. Both of our heads craned at an awkward angle in order to see the television. I don't realize that I'm humming softly to the music until Quinn turns around, an amused expression on her lips. She's not mad, she's not irritated, she's just content. She gives me a soft smile when I glance over to her to see why she's looking at me; I give her a smile back and she turns away to watch the movie, sighing happily. I can feel my eyes getting heavier and heavier, I will myself to stay awake, to not miss out on this moment of friendship that Quinn and I are sharing. If only I was in my own bed, I'd accept the sleep graciously. However, things don't work out like that. I'm in a foreign bed and very aware of the warm body next to me, curse the sandman for being so inconvenient. I realize my thoughts aren't making sense, I'm out before I can stop myself.
I jolt awake, I'm not sure if it was from my dream or from an exterior factor. The only light illuminating the room is coming from the DVD title screen of Beauty and the Beast, it could have been on loop for hours for all I'd know. Once I realize that I'm not in my room, I panic slightly. It takes me a moment for the events from the previous night to come back to me and once I'm caught up to speed I sigh contently. My eyes drift down to the white afghan blanket that is draped over me, it falls effortlessly as I sit up. It reveals a pale arm across my stomach, I hadn't felt it until I just saw it and now I'm incredibly aware of it burning through my skin as it palms me under my t-shirt. I suck in my breath, my stomach goes inward and I see her fingers involuntarily grasp to find the surface they were just resting on. The sensation overwhelms me. She's calmly sleeping, she's peaceful and she's unaware of her actions and the affect that it's having on me. I can see Brittany's Tinkerbell alarm clock and the time brings me out of my flushed state. I attempt to slide out from underneath her hand without waking her, that thought soon becomes invalid, I need her to drive me home. Without any other options I gently nudge her shoulder to wake her. I hold my breath, hoping that she won't lash out at me for waking her.
Her eyes flutter open, there's a certain warmth swirling around in her orbs, she closes them a second later. She re-opens them, sitting up more alert this time.
"Oh my god" she gasps.
I prepare myself for the backlash I'll get when she freaks out about the fact that we were just sleeping next to each other, but it doesn't come.
She retracts her arm from me, it seems like she's used to doing it. I wonder if she's a cuddler in her sleep, and I know now that this thought will occupy my mind forever. It makes me squirm.
She throws off the cream blanket that was on us, the next thought crosses my mind, did she put the blanket around us? My heart warms again at her small gestures.
"I have to get you home" Quinn says jumping off of the bed, panicking.
I hop off of the bed as well, in any other circumstance I feel as though I would be panicking also. I know I would be in near tears at the thought of how much trouble I am about to be in but something prevents me this time. As hard as I try to understand how upset my father's are going to be with me, I can't help but bring myself to think that this isn't all worth it. To feel her hand on my stomach, to be wrapped up in a cocoon next to her, to wake up to her warm eyes. I shake all feelings out of my head, it's not the time to daydream about the person standing next to me watching me expectantly.
She runs a hand through her blonde strands; even after just waking up they're still perfect. I know she's kicking herself for falling asleep, I'm almost positive that I fell asleep before her, and I know that she was facing away from me when I fell asleep. My thoughts are once again conjuring up images of her turning to face me sometime in the middle of the night, pulling me close to her so that she could get a good night's sleep. I shiver. I don't want her to beat herself up over this, it wasn't her fault and I know she assumes it is.
"It's okay, Quinn" I say softly as we sit idle in front of my house.
The entire car ride was silent, not even the lull of the radio was existent to help drown out both of our inner monologues. I would give anything to find out what's running through her mind right now, if it's something I can help with.
I feel her eyes on me, I can tell she wants to smile at me, but I know that she doesn't believe what I'm telling her.
"Your Dad's are going to kill you, and I'm sure they already hate me as it is" the blonde says sadly.
I attempt to stop the frown from adorning my lips, "They'll understand" I tell her softly.
She's pensive, "Thanks for everything"
"It was my pleasure" I offer back, I just hope that Quinn doesn't dwell any further about this.
I pull at the handle and slide out of her car; I miss the warmth and the scent that captivated every aspect of my senses. I shut the door softly and give her another soft smile which she returns right away. The sun is just beginning to illuminate the sky, it's just before the morning twilight. The dew on the grass is almost present and the birds are beginning to chirp. The air is crisp and it sends goose bumps across my body. I slip inside quietly.
My father greets me as he's walking down the stairs, adjusting his tie. I can tell he's struggling with it so I offer my hands.
He gives me a warm smile and lifts his head so I can see better, I fix it for him and he gives me a kiss on the forehead.
"I covered for you" he tells me with knowing eyes, "Daddy nearly called the cops claiming you had been kidnapped, I told him you went to a friend's after he fell asleep"
I close my eyes, I feel like crying, "Thank you" I whisper.
"Care to tell me where you went without permission?" his voice is still soft, he's amused by the entire situation I can tell.
Part of me thinks that he secretly wants me to be more rebellious, that I'll have a normal teenage life, that the reason I have to stay in on a weekend is because I'm in trouble not because it's by default.
I give him the trademark smirk I got from him, "A friends"
He wiggles his eyebrows and laughs, "I'm glad, next time leave a note okay Sweetheart?"
"Of course Dad, sorry if I made you worry" I tell him giving him a hug.
He kisses the top of my head, "I never worry about you, I'll take you to lunch, you can tell me all about your new friend" he says, and it's moments like this that I love being a Berry.
I make my way up the staircase, I can hear my other father snoring lightly as he wraps himself in his blankets. I get into my room and turn on the light; it's still pretty dark outside. I walk over to the window and notice that the red car is starting to pull away.
I wonder if she waited to make sure I got upstairs okay, I smile to myself and dig through my bag to find my cell phone.
I slide through my contacts until I find the number I'm looking for, I bravely type the keys and hit send.
Stop worrying, they aren't mad.
I make myself busy, so I'm not staring at the phone wondering if she's going to reply or not. Almost immediately my phone buzzes, I nearly drop it.
I hope you're not lying to me Berry…
I promise, now get some sleep, you need rest. That's an order Fabray.
Haha I'll try, but it might be kind of hard without you here with me.
My heart stops. It just stops. I wade in the water of indecision as I stare down at the message I found my fingers typing, unsure of whether or not I want to go down the road. Part of me is afraid it's way too forward, more so than her previous text, but part of me will regret it if I don't at least try. I hold my breath and hit send.
Pretend that I am.
The phone buzzes almost immediately again, I wait until I turn out the light and slide under my covers before I read it, afraid that her response will either upset me or make my knees go weak.
That was my plan…sweet dreams
I'm gasping for air as my fingers run over the words on the screen. I can't breathe, I'm glad that I decided to lay down because my legs feel like they are Jello. I'm not familiar with texting people but I'm almost positive that things like this aren't normal, was she…flirting? The notion makes me laugh but deep in my stomach I can't help but hope that she is. I want to see how much further I can go.
…I hope so
I don't get a response for a few minutes, I regret sending it. It's one of those, here's the line and here's me crossing it situations. I cringe at the silence in the early morning, knowing that it was silly for me to be so forward with her. I have no business on this playing field.
My phone buzzes. I may die.
They will be, I'll meet you there.
And for the 10th time tonight, this girl makes my heart sing.