Day one of the project and Rachel's already sick of it. And the real trouble hasn't even begun yet…
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Count To Ten
Chapter 2
Day 1…
„Rachel, are you sick or something?"
The girl in question closed her eyes and willed the frustration bubbling up inside of her to go away. It wasn't Artie's fault her day had been hell so far. He didn't know that she was this close to screaming. He had no idea she'd already been asked that question or a variation of it a dozen times in the few hours since she was up. It was not his fault. It was Santana's. If the manipulative Latina hadn't suggested that stupid project and tricked her into agreeing to it, she'd have had a normal day.
The day before she'd gone home with Santana's words still in her head. She didn't regret their conversation or the outcome of it, but she worried about how it all was actually going to play out. Lying in her bed, unable to shut off her brain and sleep, she'd resolved to just having to wait and see. And see, she did. Or rather, hear, because the first thing her dad said to her that morning was „Honey, are you alright?" and her daddy had followed with „Do you feel okay?". She knew where that was coming from. Usually, she'd be up and talking a mile a minute before her dads even had their first cup of coffee, but she was trying to follow her new mantra of Count To Ten, and she still wasn't perfectly clear on how she was supposed to execute it. Was she allowed to speak when she wanted to or did she have to wait for someone to ask her something or start a conversation? Did she only have to count to ten in those cases, or everytime she said anything at all? Wouldn't it be extremely rude to not wish her parents a good morning when she saw them in the kitchen simply because she was busy counting? And those questions only covered the when of the whole thing. When? After ten seconds. But what about the what? If she wanted to tell one of her fellow Glee members that her voice would be better suited for the solo Mr. Schuester would assign and counted to ten before voicing her thoughts, would it be okay to say it then? Or was she supposed to use those ten seconds to change her mind about what she was actually going to say or at least find a way to express it differently than she would have? This thing already gave her a headache, and she wasn't even out of the house yet.
At school, it only got worse. „Do you need to sit down?" from Mrs. Pillsbury-Howell in the hallways when she had greeted her and Rachel had only stared back, mouth open, unsure her mantra applied to this situation. „If you're going to be sick, do it somewhere else", from Mercedes when she'd asked Rachel a question for their next Glee assignment and the girl had just lowered her eyes to the ground, nails painfully pressing into her palms, wishing for those damn ten seconds to pass soon. Then the absolute highlight of her day so far: „Are you pregnant?" from a suspicious Finn, when she'd almost forgotten about her rule and flung her hands in front of her mouth to keep the too-soon words from coming out and then to her belly when the reality of her situation made her stomach churn.
„Rachel? I asked if you were sick?"
She didn't know how much time had passed, but she figured her inner turmoil had kept her occupied long enough for ten seconds to be over. „Thank you Artie, but I'm perfectly fine."
He nodded and rolled into the band room, Rachel following closely behind him. Two hours of Glee practise would surely calm her down enough to get over the fact that she hated what she had gotten herself into. And then she would have a word with Santana about the intent behind her advice, because, really? This was not working smoothly at all. But that would come later. First, she'd enjoy the best thing she had in her life right now: Glee.
„…and we need someone to put together the arrangement for our performance for the parent's association next week. Any volunteers?"
This was torture.
How on earth was she supposed to not let her hand shoot up immediately and shout „I'll do it"? Keep calm, think before you say something. Right. She didn't need to think about this. Not for one second, and certainly not for ten. Okay, then don't think, just wait ten freaking seconds and then stand up and tell him you'll do it. Oh god…
1…mississippi…
2…please let this be over soon…
3…mississippi…
4…oh holy mother of…
5…mississippi…
6…mississippi…
7…I should so get a prize for this…
8…mississippi..
9…why is Santana looking at me like that?...
10…she's smirking…smirking! She's having fun with my misery!...
11…mississippi…
„Well, I expected Rachel to fall all over herself to get to do this, but I'll gladly volunteer. I already have a few ideas."
What? No!
„Mr. Schuester, I…"
„Rachel, you had your chance. Kurt is going to do the arrangement. I'm sure he would appreciate some input from you, but he's in charge."
No, no, no, no!
„I didn't…"
„We're finished for today. Good work guys, see you on Wednesday."
As the people filed out, Rachel stormed over to Santana. „This is your fault!"
The cheerleader seemed unaffected by the accusation. „How is it my fault?"
„I lost my chance at arranging our performance to Kurt because I did what you told me to do!"
„How many seconds did you count?"
„I…what?"
„How many seconds did you count?", Santana calmy repeated her question.
„Eleven", came the defeated reply.
„I didn't know you were that bad at maths." Her trademark grin was in place but her tone lacked it's usual smugness.
„I'm not…you distracted me", Rachel defended herself.
„Yeah? How did I do that?
„You smirked."
„My facial expression is so distracting to you?" Oh, there was the smugness.
„You smirked in my direction."
„Oh, I don't know about that, but Brittany had her hand up my…"
„Okay! I get it!" She really did not need to know about that. „I need to get home, but don't think we won't be coming back to that conversation. In the meantime, I'll try to be more focused; not let myself get distracted. I'll see you tomorrow."
„And the diva has left the building", Santana mumbled.
„She's really not that bad", Brittany's voice came from behind her. She wrapped her arms around her best friend/girlfriend/whatever they were at moment and then kissed her cheek. „I talked to Quinn."
„Yeah? How did it go?"
„She's going to do it soon. She just needs the perfect song."
„Great." The light kisses to her neck and the circles Brittany drew on her back let her mind wander to places in which this conversation had no importance, but the blonde didn't seem to notice or care.
„San?"
„Yeah, Brit?"
„Do you think it's wise to make Rachel change something that is so totally her when Quinn is preparing this big „I'm sorry I was always such a bitch to you"-thing for her?"
„At least she's not going to ruin it with her incessant talking."
„Okay…San?"
„Yes, Brit?"
„I didn't have my hand up your anything."
„I know. Let's rectify that."