I'm more awake as I write this chapter. Not much, though, so I still wouldn't bet on anything award worthy. This chapter could also be triggering. In fact, just assume from now on that every chapter may trigger in some way.
The ascending sound of her phone ringing dragged Rachel away from her exhausted slumber, and she groaned, making the snap decision to let it ring off. But the phone insisted, growing louder and louder, signalling a message. With a groan, Rachel reached for it without opening her eyes, she pressed her thumb down on a random button to shut up the sound and reluctantly squinted at the screen.
New message from Kurt: Go to your wardrobe, find an outfit that causes the least crime to fashion and put it on. Turn yourself into the gorgeous diva I know and love and be ready for my presence in half hour.
For a moment, Rachel thought he had gone crazy. What on earth was he doing coming to her house at 6.00am on a Saturday morning? But another glance at the screen told her it was actually past nine. Nine? Since when did she sleep so late, even on a weekend? With an exhausted sigh, Rachel forced herself to sit up. She knew there was no way out of seeing Kurt, once he got something into his head, he wouldn't take no for an answer, and he knew she wasn't exactly going to be tied down with her storming social life.
With a quick glance at her bathroom door, Rachel considered a shower, but if Kurt was going to be there so soon, she knew she would never have time. She couldn't be bothered anyway, the very thought took up what little energy she had. It was more than just-woken-up tiredness that clung to her as she rooted through her wardrobe for her least offending garments, it was an exhaustion that ran through both her bones and brain, making everything ache and clouding her mind.
The doorbell rang exactly thirty minutes later, and Rachel had just finished putting the finishing touches to her hair, leaving it down but straight, making a little effort for Kurt's sake. She didn't want him to know that diva was barely inside her anymore. She walked down the stairs slowly, basking in the last few moments she wouldn't have to flash her show face and act like she actually wanted to do whatever he had planned. She hoped he would want to stay in, at least then she could put on Funny Girl and allow her mind to wander freely.
The smile was already plastered on her face as Rachel pulled the door open to greet her friend, but to her surprise, at the sight of Kurt standing in his normal designer outfit and well groomed hair, she felt snippets of a real smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. He immediately pulled her towards him for a hug which Rachel gratefully received, leaning into him and returning the embrace tightly, craving the contact.
"Morning Princess," he chirped over her shoulder. He pulled away and held her at arm's length, his hands still on her shoulders as he studied her hair and outfit carefully. Without as much thought as Kurt would have liked her to put into it, Rachel had selected a black polka dot dress and ordinary ankle socks with a pair of black flats. After a few drawn out moments, he sighed and let her go. "Well you're not going to outshine Kate Moss any time soon, but I suppose it's adequate."
Rachel rolled her eyes and stepped outside the door, not bothering to call out that she was going. If anyone was in the house, which she doubted, they wouldn't worry too much about where she was going, as long as she called if she was going to be out after dark. Kurt shot her a curious look as she closed the door behind her and locked it, just in case, but he didn't ask any questions.
"So were are you taking me?" Asked Rachel, trying her best to sound as cheerful as he looked and they walked down her driveway. She found, it was not as hard as it should be. Kurt slipped his arm through hers as they walked, leading her along.
"We're going to breakfast," he announced, with a spring in his step. "Of course my brother wanted to come along when he heard I was going to see you, but I told him it was strictly girls only." Rachel squeezed his arm gratefully and smiled again, appreciating Kurt's realisation that she needed space. Finn was his brother, and he could easily side with him in the matter.
The café was practically bursting when they entered, apparently, half of Lima had the same urge to eat breakfast out that morning, but Rachel was grateful for the noise, it meant she could talk freely to Kurt without eavesdroppers. A quick scan around the place told her no one else she knew was around, it was mainly filled with lorry drivers grabbing a coffee and a bite to eat before getting back on the road, and working mums who had no time to make something themselves. Some of them looked as tired as she felt, leaving her wondering what the normal time was for one to get up on a Saturday. Usually for her, it was six, the same time she awoke on a school day.
She and Kurt placed their orders and began a hunt for an available table to sit down at and wait for their food. There was one left in the far corner, right by the window, and to Rachel, there was no better place to sit. It was out of the way and secluded, to many of the customers, they would be invisible and invisibility was something Rachel found herself craving all the more in the recent weeks.
"How has my favourite future Broadway star been since we last spoke?" Kurt asked, as soon as they sat down. Rachel shrugged and flashed him another smile. 'The last time they spoke' had only been the previous night, but he obviously seemed to think something dramatic and life altering had happened since then that she had neglected to mention upon his arrival.
"Desperately trying to avoid your brother while keeping up with my vocal schedule," she lied. Sitting alone in my bedroom, staring at the ceiling and desperately trying to ignore both my buzzing phone and the soft call of the blades.
Kurt rolled his eyes. "Of course, what else would you be doing of a Friday evening," he sighed.
"Don't tell me, you were at the High School Party of 2011 boosting your already outstanding popularity," Rachel grinned, sarcastically. Kurt threw a packet of sugar at her.
A gum chewing waitress dumped Rachel's fruit salad in front of her and came back moments later with Kurt's English muffin with bacon, because apparently, carrying both at once was far too sensible. Rachel wrinkled her nose at Kurt's bacon and nibbled on the end of a piece of apple, finding that as usual, she had little appetite. Kurt, on the other hand, tucked in eagerly and raised his eyebrows at her pitiful meal. It was times like that when she was very pleased for the excuse of a very restricted vegan diet.
The two ate in a companionable silence, listening to the random chatter of those around them. The guy two seats away needed new toner, whilst the woman next to him wondered whether she should call Julie, and if she should wear flats or heels to her office party that night. The teenage boy on the phone was quite possibly arguing with his mother about a boy named Steve, who it seemed, wanted a place to crash that night and the boy had offered their sofa. But then another voice carried to their table. One that froze the orange segment in the air half way to Rachel's lips.
"Hey Rachel, isn't that-"
"Shhh!" Rachel hissed, cutting Kurt off mid sentence. She strained her ears to listen to her mother's voice, at the same time trying to twist her neck to the correct angle for spying on her table without being seen. She realised, when her eyes came to rest on the table several feet away from her own, that she needn't worry. Shelby's back was to her as she fed Beth from a plastic spoon and laughing when it dripped down the baby's chin.
Behind a curtain of hair, Rachel watched the interaction between her mother and Quinn's daughter. She watched her mother stroke Beth's hair affectionately and wipe the escaped food from her chin as the small girl shrieked in delight, as if it were a wondrous game. She listened to her mother talk to Beth as if she were her own age, and not still under the age of one. The baby grinned up at her mother, as if she understood every word she was saying, and Rachel watched the adoring way her mother gazed back at her, like she were the most precious thing on the planet.
Rachel wanted to turn away and resume a conversation with Kurt before she could see or hear anymore, but her eyes were drawn to the scene, almost as if they were being held there by a magic spell that she couldn't escape from, no matter how roughly the sting of rejection tore through her. She told herself her ongoing silence was because she didn't want her mother to hear her and notice they were there.
A hand came to rest on hers and Rachel felt a gentle squeeze on her hand before she heard Kurt's voice. "Don't torture yourself Rachel," he said, softly. "Finish eating and then we can go to the park and start up an impromptu performance of a song of your choice." He was trying to distract her, Rachel knew, but she ignored him, too focused on the nearby table to take in what he was saying.
The gum chewing waitress slouched past her mother's table, looking as if she would rather be anywhere than there, but her face brightened when she saw Beth and she gazed down at the baby with the same look of maternal love that Shelby was wearing.
"What's her name?" Asked the waitress, nodding at the child as Shelby continued to feed her.
"Beth," she smiled, without looking up and Beth's head jerked at the sound of her name, earning another soft laugh from Shelby.
"Is she your first?" Rachel tensed, waiting for her mother's response. She wondered what Shelby would do if the waitress continued to enquire about her, if she would tell her the truth or make something up about lazy teenagers being in bed until all hours of the afternoon.
"Yes," replied Shelby without hesitation and Rachel stiffened, the tears immediately stinging in her eyes. She finally wrenched her eyes away from her mother and her new, better daughter and looked back to her salad. She blinked at it a few times before pushing it away and throwing down her fork. Without so much as a glance at Kurt, she pulled her hand away from his and pushed her chair back roughly, no longer caring about being noticed as she practically ran from the café, ignoring Kurt's voice as it shot after her.
As soon as she was out of the café, Rachel broke into a proper run, speeding up when she heard the door swing open again and knew Kurt was following her. He called her name again, a plea in his voice as he shouted at her to stop, claiming he couldn't run in his chosen boots. Rachel ignored him, focused only on putting as much distance between herself and her mother as she could.
It seemed that rejecting her time and time again had not been enough for Shelby. She had to wipe Rachel from her life completely, out of sight, out of mind. To her, she wasn't worth a second thought, let alone a relationship. Was she really so bad that her own mother wished to deny her existence? Hot rejection washed over her again and again as she ran, joined with the pangs of hurt that felt as if someone were literally kicking her repeatedly in the chest, throwing in a few swipes with a knife for good measure.
It seemed that Kurt wasn't kidding about not being able to run, for Rachel found she soon lost him. He wasn't following her by the time she reached her front door five minutes later and fumbled with the lock, trying to insert the key with shaking hands. She flung it shut behind her, making sure to lock it in case Kurt came knocking. The last thing she wanted was him bursting in on her while she was doing it.
Her dads' car hadn't been in the driveway, so Rachel was free to make as much noise as she liked as she raced up the stairs and threw open her bedroom door, the tears finally pouring as she stumbled inside. She flung herself dramatically down on her bed, her fists clawing at the pillow as she cried into it. She crushed it tighter to her chest as the sobs wracked her body, staining the pillow case with black streaks of the light layer of mascara she had applied in an attempt to look more awake.
A sudden rush of white hot anger gripped her, and she was furious. Furious with her mother for rejecting her, tracking her down, rejecting her again and then one last time for good measure. Furious with Finn for not trusting her enough to realise she wasn't Quinn, furious even with Kurt for taking her to the café in which she had seen Shelby and Beth. If he had just left her alone, she would have gone another day without a meeting with her mother and that would have been just fine.
Rachel leapt up from the bed, and with tears still streaming thick and fast, she blindly began to search through her dresser. It didn't take her long to locate the cup, standing upright in the top drawer. She had not been able to bear looking at it each day on display, but she couldn't bring herself to throw it away either. It was the only thing her mother had ever given her, the only sign that she crossed her mind at all. The tape hardly counted, that was only made to be planted so she could string Rachel along only to reject her again.
With a gut wrenching sob, she flung the cup from her into the far wall where it shattered on impact, shards of glass flying in all directions. Rachel watched the pieces fall to the floor, the tears ceasing almost instantly. She felt calmer. She knew what she was going to do. The carpet felt soft underneath her as she knelt down in the glass, being careful to avoid the pieces. She wanted to hurt, but it would be her choice when and where, not an accident.
Rachel studied the fragments that littered her bedroom floor before selecting the piece with two points of a gold star still intact, inspecting the edges to make sure it was sharp enough. Satisfied, she hitched her dress up her thigh and slowly ran the blade along her skin, admiring the beads of blood as they welled up and then dripped down the sides of her legs. She did it again and again until the last sting of rejection had left her and the blood on her leg ran over the words had spelled out with her mother's gift.
Mommy's Girl.
How cheery. Please review.