You normally don't like to miss school for anything, but dental hygiene is very important to you. You can't help but notice, though, that the dental hygenist is always shoving the electric tooth polisher a little too quickly into your mouth as soon as you start to tell her all you've accomplished in the last six months since your last cleaning. Uninterested, she offers monosyllabic replies to the string of incomprehensible sentences you determinedly gurgle out as the machine whirs over the sound of your voice.
It's Wednesday morning, and your tongue recoils a little at the bitter orange flavoring as it glides across your polished teeth, and she pats your arm and tells you Dr. Jones is out today with a cold. You nod appreciatively, not wanting your dentist to sneeze germs into your mouth. Normally, you wouldn't think about such things, but all the time you've been spending with her at lunch and in her office has given you a newly found sensitivity to such concerns.
The thought of her has barely crossed your mind when he steps into the room, whistling some unfamiliar tune. You blink a few times in recognition as he snaps on a pair of white gloves while the hygienist hands him your chart.
"All right, and what pretty lady do we have here?" he smiles, dropping your chart on the table as he spins the leather rolling chair backwards and takes a seat.
"Rachel," you half mumble, feeling your pulse pick up as you wonder whether he remembers you from the gas station. It doesn't seem like he does. You didn't realize how handsome his features are up close.
"Well nice to meet you Rachel. I'm Dr. Howell, and I'm filling in for some of Dr. Jones' patients today. So if you'll just lean on back there," he offers, adjusting the incline on your chair and flicking on the hanging light above you, "we'll get you out of here and back to school in no time."
You swallow nervously, sucking a little more of the orange taste out of your mouth before you open it as wide as you can, avoiding eye contact as he leans over and pokes around with his scraper a few times. You give him a few mental points for smelling so nice.
"Good grief, these are some gorgeous teeth," he grins, popping off his gloves and he leans back. "Rachel, you make my job easy. I wish all teenagers were like that. I may have to steal you from Dr. Jones. Why don't you go pick out a toothbrush and-"
"I go to McKinley-" you blurt out as you sit up, faster than your mind can tell you to back off. You can tell he's a little confused by your interruption.
"Oh, really? I see a few kids who-"
"And I know your girlfriend." Girlfriend? How do you even know that?
His forehead wrinkles, and you can tell he's a little startled by the random turn in the routine conversation for his job.
"I see her a lot," you offer in a much smaller voice as you swivel your legs to the side of the examining chair. "You know, to talk about things."
He nods, resting his arms on the back of his rolling chair. "What's your last name, Rachel?"
"Berry. Rachel Berry."
"Rachel Berry?" he repeats, emphasizing your last name as his lips turning upward into a grin of recognition. "You're the Rachel Berry."
You've been waiting your whole life for someone to say that sentence, and the randomness of it being utterred in the dentist's office isn't lost on you as you wait for him to continue, not certain whether his recognition of your name is a blessing or a curse.
"Well it's nice to finally meet you, the Rachel Berry. Geez kid, Emma, talks about you all the time I feel like I already know you."
"She...talks about me?" you ask, frowning as a few of the more horrifying moments of the emotional theatrics you've performed in her office flash through your head.
"Of course she talks about you. She brags on you all the time kid, how you're gonna be famous and everything. Well I guess now I have something to say about Rachel Berry too, now that I've seen those gorgeous teeth."
You can't help but blush at his compliment, suddenly feeling a little more lucid about Miss Pillsbury's determination not to be kissed in hallways or her office. Finn would scold you for betraying your teacher so easily, but Mr. Schuester has never called you "The Rachel Berry."
"You know I'm gonna see her later today, at lunch," you casually remark as you stand and move to pick through the open drawer and pull out a pink toothbrush with sparkles. "You know, if you want me to tell her anything."
"Aw, that's sweet, kid. Just give her a hug for me. Can you do that?"
You try not to nod too enthusiastically, not stopping to wonder if he realizes he's the one doing you a favor as you hurry back to find your dad in the waiting room.
x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x
You can't help but grin a little as you take your usual seat in the cafeteria. You've eaten together every day since the encounter in her office last Friday, and though you've kept the conversation as light as light can be with your personality, it someone how feels more personal and less sterile than the conversations you used to have in her office. Today you notice that she doesn't take her gloves out to wipe down the table when she sits across from you, and you wonder whether that has more to do with personal progress or with her paying you a compliment.
"I can't stay long," she apologizes immediately as she pulls her lunch out of her bag. "I've got a meeting with parents than I couldn't push back."
"It's okay," you smile, feeling your chest flutter a little with nerves from the news you're about to drop. "I'm not not really hungry anyway today. I went to the dentist and you know food tastes weird after you've gotten your teeth cleaned..."
She nods, not catching on to your incredibly subtle hint, and you wonder how many times she gets her teeth cleaned a year. Probably a lot.
"And you know after today I decided I'm not really happy with my dentist. Do you know of anyone good that you could recommend?"
She stops mid-chew and eyes your grin suspiciously. "Nope, can't say that I do." She shakes her head a little too determinedly as she stares down at the table in embarrassment.
"Because I mean anyone can't help but notice how nice your teeth are Miss Pillsbury, so I'm sure you have must have a really stellar relationship with your dentist." You feel just the slightest twinge of guilt as her cheeks blush to life.
"Rachel, I don't really think that this is appropriate for us to-"
"He's really nice. I like him. I like him a lot actually."
You notice the tiniest hint of a smile on her face before her eyebrows arch in concern. "What did you say to him?"
"I just said that I knew you and that we talked sometimes."
She nods again, not looking completely convinced by your unusually concise answer as she swallows another bite off her sandwich. "And what did he say to you?"
"He said that you talk about me. A lot." Your eyes are glued down onto the table, not certain how she'll react.
"Rachel, now before you get upset, I would never reveal anything personal that you've told me-"
"Oh, I know that. It's...just nice to be talked about," you admit out loud with a weak smile. "I didn't realize you ever thought about me when you weren't being paid to..."
The look she gives you tells you how far from the truth your last statement could possibly be. She's about to say something and you can tell she's changed her mind as she clears her throat.
"So you think he's nice, huh?" she asks earnestly.
"Yeah," you smile. "He smells nice too."
She swats away your comment as her cheeks flush again in embarrassment, and you wonder if she has anyone to talk to about such things. You wonder if the only person she probably confided in just happens to be the last person who wants to hear about the dentist, and your heart can't help but hurt a little for her. Suddenly all your one-sided incessant rambling about Finn for the past year seems more than a little selfish.
"H-he told me to give you a hug too," you blurt out a little quickly, wincing at your childishness as you look down at your lunch tray.
"Just ignore him," she laughs as she shakes her head. "He was just being silly."
You muster a painfully wide smile before any disappointment can flash across your face. "Yeah, I figured."
"Oh gosh, I should probably be going," she mutters as she looks at her watch and scoops up her lunch containers. "Do you need a ride home today?"
The question exits her mouth so nonchalantly, like she's been asking you that every day for years instead of just last Friday. It more than startles you, and it takes a second for you to blurt out a reply.
"Sure. That would be great."
You make a mental note to tell Finn you won't be hanging out with him after school today after all.
x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x
When she pulls onto your street, you're both making small talk and poking a few jokes about the inane pep rally you both had to sit through during the last period of the day. In your head, you're cursing both your dads for buying a house so close to the high school.
"Rachel," she begins, the tone in her voice turning unexpectedly serious as she pulls into your driveway. "I just hope that your, um, discoveries...today can just be between you and me. I really don't want my personal life to be more of a conversation topic at school than it already is..."
You nod in recognition, knowing how often her quirks are the butt of jokes among even the nicer kids. "Of course. I'm sorry I even brought it up."
"Oh that's okay," she offers as she turns off the ignition. "You've saved me enough times to have earned a piece of the puzzle. Just as long as it's between us."
"It is," you answer softly, meeting her glance to let you know you're serious. "See you tomorrow." You grab your backpack and get out of her car with a slight bounce to your step. You're not sure how, but somehow the weight of her secret makes your own seem a little lighter to carry.
When you drop your backpack on the front porch, ready to dig for your key to the front door, you hear the clack of her heels following you up the front steps.
"Oh, I'm sorry, did you want to come in?" you ask as you turn around, more than a little confused.
"Nope. Just didn't want you to forget the hug you owe me," she tells you, smiling shyly as she opens her arms a little to make a space just for you.
And when she tightens them around you, you decide that it's a pretty good fit.