AN: I can't believe you guys, thanks for all the alerts, faves and reviews. They keep me going.
Chapter 8 - Never Take Friendship Personal
"So which one of these have you read already?" Quinn asks, scanning a shelf under the section where Rachel had pulled her to as soon as they stepped inside the bookstore. Quinn's eyes hadn't return to her since. Rachel points at a number of titles on display, skipping a few ones that didn't leave an impression on her so she could narrow it down to a few choices as not to appear too showy.
"...And you have a favorite out of those thirteen?"
Rachel watches as Quinn trace a slender finger along the edge of a random, yellow book.
"You're touching it," Rachel answers with a smile that hasn't left her lips since the second she climbed inside Quinn's car. She glances at Quinn and thinks about how coming to her second favorite place on Earth is ten times better with someone she's more than excited to share things with. Even if that someone's only wearing gym shorts and a worn-out top that advertises a love for bacon. Generally, it's something that should turn her off in an instant. Yet there's nothing else in Rachel's mind other than a curiosity in whether or not Quinn shares the same sentiment with her shirt or simply wearing it just because.
Quinn takes the book in her hand and checks the back cover, possibly to read the synopsis which she won't surely find. "Not Hunger Games?" Quinn finally looks at her, a glint of playfulness in her eyes that leaves Rachel wanting to sweep those stray strands of blonde hair in front of Quinn's eyes.
Rachel releases a shaky breath. She's suddenly nervous, and it's quite unfair because Quinn hasn't even done anything yet other than stand an arm's length away from Rachel. "It's The Hunger Games. And while I occasionally indulge in young adult fiction, there are only quite a few titles that have managed to make it to my list."
"Such as 'Hope for the Flowers'…" Quinn says slowly without looking up. She skims through the pages with interest, randomly smiling at the illustrations of a striped and a yellow caterpillar.
"It's about change and its inevitable nature." Rachel explains, careful not to give it all away. "My daddy Leroy used to read it to me every night until third grade." Quinn hums softly and places the book back to its original place. Hazel eyes stays on brown ones longer than they're supposed to Rachel takes a tentative step closer to Quinn.
"Hey." Quinn mumbles, almost inaudibly.
"Hey..."
They're practically in each other's space. All Rachel needs is some accident that would push her up on her toes and press up against that warm body hovering a few inches from hers.
"So," Quinn starts, snapping Rachel out of her reverie. "You were supposed to pick up some stuff, right?"
Rachel gasps. "I completely forgot!"
"Go on," Quinn says. She shifts her attention towards a pile of books that are currently being sold half its regular price. "I'll just... look around."
Rachel nods and proceeds to grab a cart from the entrance. She mindlessly pushes it around, lingering a safe distance from Quinn. Rachel struggles not to look her way every five seconds, feeling as if Quinn would just suddenly vanish into thin air if she doesn't. She's not sure how long this will last until Quinn decides the day is over and they go home without having the certainty of seeing each other again. After today, she has to know if they could be friends at least. Because coming to Barnes and Nobles is a more amazing when it's with Quinn. Because she has a lot of books in mind that she thinks Quinn will appreciate, or even love. Because she wants to know if Quinn has passion for music and if it happens that she does, Rachel wants to know if she dances to them sometimes, or merely closes her eyes to get lost in them the way she does.
There's a point in which you realize that you can no longer refuse the chance to have someone be a regular part of your life. Rachel's gone pass this point, and if she can't think of a way to ask Quinn's number by the end of the day, it's just going to get worse.
Rachel squeezes her eyes shut and forces herself to focus on the task at hand: book shopping. She forwent bringing her list with her when she left the hotel that morning, but she hadn't counted on seeing Quinn today and couldn't think of a better invitation than a visit to this place. Rachel thought the blonde would appreciate a quiet setting given her reticent demeanor. Judging from the way Quinn's smiling to herself as she reads a page from a John Green novel, Rachel's sure she's just been proven right.
Rachel wheels around the Young Adults Section and picks up four titles— not even half of what she had on her list, but she just can't wait to go back to Quinn.
When she reaches the counter, she's surprised to find that Quinn's already beaten her to it.
"You made a purchase?"
Quinn rubs the back of her head, further messing up her hair. "Yeah..."
"Of what?"
"That book about caterpillars?"
Rachel gapes at her in disbelief, unsure of what to say. "M-My favorite book?"
Quinn grins. "I did remember you saying that..."
"Quinn that's..." She's loss for words, not really expecting Quinn to take an interest so much that she'd buy her own copy.
"That's really…" Rachel tucks a loose strand behind a crimson ear. "Awesome." God, that's got to be the thoughtless, lamest thing to come out of her mouth.
"You think so?" Quinn asks rhetorically.
"I do. B-But I actually have a different book in mind for you to borrow, if you're still willing to give it a try."
"The more the merrier, right?" Quinn says, searching Rachel's face like a map of treasure. "Just keep them coming."
Oh, she certainly will.
xxxxx
When she woke up that morning, it never crossed her mind that she'd be bringing Quinn to her apartment at the end of the day. Upon arriving, Rachel rings the buzzer first just in case Santana's home. Despite getting along better recently, she's a bit worried to have both girls in the same room. Honestly, she's more concerned of how Quinn might react when she sees Santana. Rachel hasn't mentioned to her that she's rooming with Santana Lopez, and from hearing her roommate's side of the story, Rachel already assumes Quinn's not exactly fond of her former teammate.
But as Quinn moves to the floor to sit Indian style, asking if she keeps any pet around… it's quite hard to assume that. In fact, it's hard to assume anything when it comes to Quinn.
"Unfortunately, we're not allowed to keep pets in here."
"Not even hamsters?"
"Now that you mentioned it, I think it's quite unfair that they keep rats and pests all around the building but not the cute ones that are entirely harmless." Rachel answers. She trudges to her bedroom and gets out of her clothes while looking for 'A Solitude of Prime Numbers'. She didn't bother closing the door trusting her visitor to stay on her place although, she wouldn't mind if Quinn suddenly walks in. Rachel works hard every day to keep herself in perfect shape.
"You have pets at home, Quinn?" Rachel yells, keeping the topic afloat.
"I... I have cat." Quinn answers.
"Really? What kind?" Where's that goddamn book? Rachel muses, as she rummages her closet and a cardboard box that still contains an eighth of her belongings.
"An orange tabby."
She waits for Quinn to say something more about this Orange Tabby which Rachel kind of envies right now, but after a long pause she finally gets that Quinn's done talking. "Okay. So you own an orange tabby—"
"Actually, I don't claim ownership over a living creature." Quinn looks over her shoulder just as Rachel stumbles out of her room, cursing at a sharp object that her right foot has apparently landed on.
"Oh, then allow me to rephrase my sentence: a cat lives with you." Rachel answers, looking up at Quinn with a small grimace.
Quinn sniffles. "That's more like it."
"How did it come to live with you?"
Quinn rubs her ear. "Via my sister's boyfriend. Anyway, that book you were telling me about…"
A sister and a cat. Perhaps if she learns how to play her cards more effectively, Quinn will let on more than things she can learn from a dossier.
"I can't find it anywhere." Rachel mumbles in reply.
"Alright…" Quinn utters lengthily, not even bothering to appear disappointed. "Should I help you look for it?"
Rachel shakes her head, wringing her hands. "No, I'm sure it'll show up later."
Quinn's eyes tapers in confusion, wondering if Rachel just threw in a punch line or if indeed, somewhere in the middle of her visit, it'll magically appear right in front of her.
Rachel crawls towards the sofa to lie on her stomach. She turns her head just a bit so she's facing Quinn horizontally. Despite the angle, Rachel can't help but notice how the blonde's just as beautiful. "In the meantime, would you like to eat anything? I'm vegan, but roommate isn't so I can make you a sandwich if you like."
"Don't worry about me, Rachel." Quinn says, her eyes boring with magnitude through Rachel's again. It's so natural to get lost in them, to let the connection stream for as long as she can manage to, but there's that question tapping on her head and asking her what it all means.
Why does Quinn look at her like that? Does she look at other people that same way or was it only for her?
Maybe she should just ask her, right?
"Quinn…"
"Rachel…"
"Why…" Rachel closes her eyes and swallows hard— the question she intends to ask, melting on her tongue. "What's your cat's name?"
She's not brave enough to do it. She's afraid Quinn won't meet her half way or she'll ruin whatever limbo they're presently in. Rachel can't afford to make another mistake—one that would send Quinn away.
"Something Japanese," is all Quinn answers with.
"Japanese…? Oh! I think you mentioned during the orientation that you're taking up linguistics."
"Mhm…" Quinn nods, appearing slightly startled from Rachel's apparent interest on keeping the limelight above her head.
"What's it like?"
"You study language." Quinn mutters in that fashionable disinterested manner that just pushes Rachel to figure out why Quinn is this way. Why everything that comes out of her mouth is evasive and not at all self-indulgent.
"Yeah, but," Rachel sighs, feeling her chest tighten in anxiety. "I'm not so much familiar with how you… anatomize language. I only took Spanish back in high school."
"Semantics, Phonological Analysis, Grammatical Analysis…" Quinn trails away to observe Rachel's reaction. Her lips automatically curl into a smile at noticing Rachel's facial expression shift from amusement to being utterly clueless. Rachel on the other hand, is already thinking of what kind of career awaits the blonde after graduation, until it occurs to her that there's a possibility Quinn's coasting through college just like her. After seeing Quinn during soccer practice, Rachel just can't imagine her doing anything else. Quinn looks as if she's born to play the sport, just as Rachel's certain she's born to sing.
"It's not the most exciting in the world." Quinn comments.
Brown eyes snap to hazel ones. "What is?"
"My field of study," Quinn answers smoothly. "It's okay if you don't think it's too engrossing."
"I think it's rather too sophisticated for my taste." Rachel says.
Quinn gives her a wary smile. "Fine."
"Please don't dismiss it as if you don't believe every word I say."
Quinn looks grim for a moment, before turning her head away from Rachel. "Fine, I believe you."
"Do you?" Rachel returns, knitting her brows together. When Quinn doesn't respond, or even take a breath at the least, Rachel takes this as her cue to apologize. "Quinn, I-I didn't mean to be abrasive. I just wanted to…" Rachel bites her lip before she can say anything more that might worsen the situation.
"Okay."
"I'm really sorry." Rachel mumbles, dropping her head.
"Okay, Rachel." Rachel hears the gentleness in Quinn's voice.
"I don't… I'm not a good with people." Quinn admits with a sigh.
"You are. Sometimes I don't get what you're thinking but that's normal because it's not like there's an invisible bridge to make people understand one another without difficulty."
"Rachel," Quinn shifts away from the brunette. "More than half of the time, I'm not…" Quinn struggles to grasp her own thoughts, but decides to give up as soon as the door hisses open. There's a bout a dozen ways in which Quinn could've continued that sentence.
"I can't believe none of you even bothered to leave a sock on the doorknob." Santana smirks mischievously when Rachel levels her with a look. Quinn's gaze doesn't waver, as if she didn't notice Santana's arrival.
Santana saunters through the kitchen and grabs a bottle of beer from the fridge.
"Fabray," Santana drawls from behind her drink. "Never dreamed of having you over my crib."
"Hi," Quinn answers and finally looks at Santana with bland attitude.
"Santana, don't you have somewhere to go? It's only 4:30." Rachel cuts in.
"Nah. I think I want to be a home buddy from now on. All the partying gets stupid at some point.
Rachel shoots her a glare while Quinn remains silent. "While I'm glad to hear that you're finally considering to improve your lifestyle, I have a visitor—"
"Jesus, am I not allowed in here? I've gots no problem if you're ready to jump each other's bone—"
"I'll see you, Rachel." Quinn promptly rises to her feet, heading for the exit.
"Quinn, wait, the book—"
Quinn's already at the door. She turns her head marginally and Rachel can see more shadow than flesh.
"It can wait."
Rachel blinks and then Quinn is gone. She clenches her fist tightly and whips around.
"I can't believe you!"
Santana ignores her, climbing one of the high stools. "I'm impressed, Berry. In less than a month, you already had gotten Q to see your bedroom. Should I leave the apartment tomorrow night, just in case?"
Rachel rolls her eyes—an action she's perfected in the short time she's been living with Santana. "She came over to borrow a book and not at all what you're thinking."
"Yeah, she went to "borrow a book" alright. Is that what they're calling it now? Sounds dorky to me."
"If there's one thing you're tremendously good at, it's making every simple thing sound so tawdry."
Santana lifts an eyebrow. "Is that you're way of complimenting my badass-ness?"
Rachel pinches the bridge of her nose, before lifting her head to glare at Santana. "I should be furious at you. But I just feel so—"
"Sexually frustrated?"
"—Congested!"
Santana scowls in disgust, imagining all sorts of images to accompany that word. "Ew, Berry, not the adjective I was expecting."
"Quit trying to be funny, and listen to me!"
Santana clucks her tongue in victory. "Dios mio! Calm yourself, Berry. I'm just teasing you."
"Clearly, that's all you ever do."
Santana clears her throat, and it actually takes quite a few takes before it clears up. It's the beer, or the urge to choke on Rachel's lack of humor on the whole thing.
"You know, sudden friendships are kind of tricky, Rach." Santana offers as some form of consolation.
"What do you mean?"
"It's... There's obviously something behind it. You're trying to be Quinn's friend because you feel something for her, don't you?"
"Of course. I've always liked the idea of falling in love with a friend, then—"
"But see, when you put aside those feelings, do you actually have any idea how to be friends with her? I'm saying that you're actions are driven right now, but what if in the end, you get disappointed?"
"You're thinking way too much into our—"
"And obviously, you're not thinking at all."
Rachel seems taken aback, not anymore caring if this conversation's taking an ugly turn.
"You have no basis, nor any right to say that about me."
Santana looks mildly stung. "Fuck this, Berry. I'm sorry if the truth's whipping your ass. I'm just looking out for you."
"You don't need to. I'm perfectly capable of handling things on my own."
"Yeah, you do."
Rachel brushes past her, heading outside. "I get that you hate Quinn but stay out of this."
"I never said I hate that bitch—" Her retort gets muffled by the click of the door. Santana grits her teeth. "Gladly."