Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or Thirteen Reasons Why.

Author's Note: 71 reviews! *makes a super creepy smiley face* YAY! So this reason was kind of hard to think of since it was the Peer Communications chapter in the book, but I finally came up with something. Enjoy!

Reason Seven

Mr. Schue placed the DVD player down on the car floor and began to pull out.

"Where are we going now?" asked Brittany softly.

"Back to the choir room, it's almost nine-thirty. We're going to watch two more DVD's there, and then you'll all go home until graduation tonight."

"No!" Several people replied at once.

"Don't worry, we can finish them afterwards." Mr. Schue said. "If you want, you can all come back at three to watch a few before graduation at six. Deal?"

Everyone ultimately agreed, and Mr. Schue started back to the school.

When they arrived at McKinley, the entire parking lot was deserted, no cars, no policemen, nothing. However, someone had lowered the flag on the pole, and posted a notice on the front door, describing the event that had happened the night before. No one could bear to look at it as they filed into the choir room.

The New Directions members took their seats in the empty room. Brad, their piano player, had left for the day and the room was humid, someone had turned off the air conditioner, but none of them even cared enough to turn it back on. They all hurried Mr. Schue to play the DVD.

My favorite class, and perhaps yours too, was always glee club.

So this DVD was about them!

"Finally," Quinn murmured.

But Rachel didn't look mad on the DVD, she was actually, sort of, smiling.

Even when I felt like a complete outcast, when I wanted to scream, when life was a bitch, when I was a bitch, Glee was my safe haven. Whenever I walked into the choir room, I felt at ease. Singing has always been second nature to me. In Glee, I could express all of my emotions and not have to hold back. I could say whatever I felt, I could sing whatever I needed to. In Glee, I was surrounded by lots of people who cared about me. Well, not all of them did. If they were all so perfect, New Directions wouldn't be on my list, now would they?

The group looked at each other accusingly, except for Brittany, who was toying with the seam on her gray jersey tank top as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

I don't think glee club should be cut. I really did benefit from my time there. Mr. Schuester is an amazing teacher, and although I wished he could've helped me even more, he's done enough. Glee has changed my short life and made me better. I just wish I had more things as wonderful as Glee in my lifetime, maybe than I'd still be alive.

Not that I'm having regrets. I know I want to do…this.

On the DVD, Rachel's smile momentarily faded.

But anyway, back to Glee.

A few months ago, Mr. Schue had us each decorate a paper bag and hang it in the back of the room. He said it was for people to drop in music related comments they had for other people, like if they wanted to tell someone else that they were a little pitchy in their last solo, or hang song suggestions for so-and-so. They could sign their name, or be completely anonymous.

And no, nobody gave me a negative comment in my bag. What really happened, was actually worse.

As time went on, everyone received notes in their bags. Sometimes a glee clubber would perform a song and say they had gotten it from their bag, or I would hear another person say they were going to practice harder because someone dropped them a hint that they had messed up their lyric in the number we were rehearsing. But no one gave me any notes. I didn't get a single one.

At first, I thought this was a little peculiar. So, I decided I would do something to get everyone's attention. A month later, when we were practicing "Don't Stop Believin", I screwed up my line on purpose.

And still, no one gave me a note. I waited two weeks, then three weeks. Nothing. So what did I do? Let's say, desperate times called for desperate measures.

I wrote myself a comment. After Glee one day I slipped it in. The next morning I ran to my bag before first period and guess what? There was no note!

So, who stole my notes? Who thought it would be funny to play with my self-esteem? I bet you think I'm going to expose that person, call them out in a cruel and embarrassing fashion. After all, they deserve it for being so mean to me. Right? I'm not going to fight fire with fire, and either way, I still don't know! Even if I wanted too, I couldn't.

To most people, this wouldn't be a big deal. So some stupid person is teasing you, taking pathetic little notes addressed to you! So what? Well, I'll tell you what. Those little notes were a boost to my confidence, they made me feel good about myself again. For a little while, the old, happy go lucky Rachel Berry was back again. But then they were taken from me, and my confidence went with it.

Mr. Schue turned to the kids as the DVD ended. "Who did it?" He demanded. "Who stole from Rachel's bag?"

Santana squeezed Brittany's hand and looked at the floor. "The Troubletones," She said. "They wanted us to do it, but we didn't."

"Well I did," Brittany chimed in. "But I didn't know that they wanted to steal them."

Their teacher closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, sitting down at the piano. It was going to be a long day, and it wasn't even half over. They still had six DVD's to go.