Quinn walks down the hall with her head held high, sending glares every which way whenever she feels eyes on her. She's in full HBIC mode; right now, she's not even doing so because she has to, she's doing so because she's actually frustrated. Severely frustrated.

She failed to receive a sufficient amount of sleep the previous night, was woken not even two hours after finally falling completely asleep, had to deal with Tiffany and Sue at an ungodly hour, and to top it all off, it's already lunch time and she's yet to find her mystery girl. Okay, well, the girl isn't hers, but...

She heaves a frustrated sigh, seating herself beside Santana at the Cheerio's table.

"What crawled up your ass and died?" Santana asks.

Quinn opens her mouth to speak, but is cut off by Brittany saying, "Something crawled up her ass? Oh my gosh, Q, you need to go to the doctor. That could be like, deadly, right?"

Quinn flashes her friend a 'what-the-fuck' look, but doesn't question her; Santana, on the other hand, just looks at her lovingly before once again focusing her attention on Quinn. Their cuteness seriously makes Quinn sick. They're disgusting.

"I'm fine, Britt," she assures the other blonde before looking at Santana again, "and nothing crawled up my ass, San. I'm just not having the best of days, is all."

"Can't find your mystery girl?"

"It's not like this school is that big," is Quinn's only response.

"I think I can help you out," Santana says, directing Quinn's attention to the football table by pointing her finger in that direction. "She's with the boys, and from the looks of it, she needs some savin'."

Quinn's gaze follows Santana's index finger and lands on the football table; well, not really the table, but the girl seated there. She thinks for a moment that Santana is exaggerating when she says this girl needs to be saved, but one look at the petite brunette is proof that she's not. The girl, whoever she is, looks terribly uncomfortable. She can understand why, of course - the girl's hot, so she's probably been talked up by every guy at that table, even the ones who have girlfriends.

She's tempted to go over there, but when she starts to stand up, she finds herself falling back into her chair. She's not shy; the word isn't even in her vocabulary, but something about this girl makes her nervous. Extremely so.

Which is weird because shy, nervous, and insecure are words that don't describe her. Not to say that she's completely confident in everything she does (what person is, really?) because she isn't, but she knows who she is and she accepts herself and she'll be damned if she lets other people get under her skin in a bad way.

"What are you waiting for?" Santana's question drags her out of her thoughts. "Newbie needs to be saved. Go save her."

She huffs, but doesn't argue. She's Quinn Fucking Fabray and she owns this school. If she starts acting shy now, her abilities as a leader will be questioned and she can't have that.

Awkward. Uncomfortable. Those are truly the only two words that can describe how Rachel is feeling.

For one, she's seated directly across from Puck, whose name she has learned is actually Noah. Any normal teenage girl would probably be thrilled to have him flirting with her, but she's far from what one would consider normal. Or so, that's what she believes.

Why she let Sam talk her into this, she has no idea. She reminds herself that he's just being a friend by not allowing her to eat alone; that's what she loves about Sam, he's so nice, but at the moment, she almost wishes he were exactly like half of the boys she's sitting with.

"Leave her be, Puck," Sam says; there's a warning in his tone. "She's not buying it. Stop trying to sell it."

Rachel bites back her laugh at his choice of words, choosing instead to send him a grateful smile.

"Dude, really?" Mike asks. "That was almost as bad as 'I'm Sam, Sam I am and I don't like Green Eggs and Ham.'"

The brunette can't bite back her laugh this time. "Oh, my. You actually said that?"

"Yes, he actually said that," an unfamiliar voice cuts in before Sam can say anything. She knows that voice doesn't belong to one of the boys.

"Quinn," Sam greets the newcomer as she squeezes in between Rachel and Mike.

She's pretty, Rachel thinks. Blonde hair, hazel eyes, porcelain skin. She's a cheerleader, too, Rachel notices. She's not sure what to think of that; the cheerleaders she's met thus far have been either dumb or bitchy. She's curious as to which category Quinn falls under.

"Evans isn't very funny," Quinn says as she focuses her gaze on Rachel, loudly enough for Sam to hear.

"I heard that!" he exclaims indignantly.

Rachel merely giggles as one of the guys say, "That was the point, dumb ass."

She focuses her attention back on Quinn when the girl extends her hand, saying, "I'm Quinn Fabray."

Rachel hesitates briefly before taking the girl's hand and shaking it. "Rachel Berry." She's not oblivious to the fact that the blonde doesn't immediately release her hand, and she can't identify the expression on Quinn's face when she finally does do so.

"So, Rachel, I was hoping I could talk to you for a moment," Quinn says after a few seconds of silence passes between them.

She raises an eyebrow at that - what could this girl possibly have to talk to her about?

As if reading her mind, Quinn says, "It's about a club that I think you'd be interested in. It'll only take a minute. I don't bite, promise."

A club she'd be interested in? She highly doubts that there is a single club in this school she'd be interested in, but she agrees to go somewhere to talk with Quinn despite that. At this point, she'd do almost anything to get away from Sam's football buddies.

X

The auditorium's nice - not too big, not too small.

Rachel and Quinn seat themselves at the foot of the stage; the brunette tries to keep a comfortable distance between them. She feels less awkward around Quinn - she knows why, of course. It's because she's not a boy and she's not flirting and she actually smells really good...

Okay, she has no idea where that thought came from and she's going to pretend she didn't just think that.

"So..."

"So..."

Quinn chuckles. "This is stupid. I'm just going to come out with it, okay?"

"Okay."

"I'd like you to join glee," Quinn states pointedly.

Rachel raises an eyebrow at that. "Glee? The show choir club?"

"Yeah, that's the one."

It's not a bad idea, Rachel thinks. It's not completely impossible, either. She's just confused as to why this girl is asking her to join glee. Quinn doesn't know her and can't possibly know that she sings. No one knows that she can, aside from her fathers and her sister. Not even Sam knows and he does know her.

"You don't even know if I can sing or not... why are you asking me?"

Quinn hesitates before answering, further confusing Rachel. "God, I'm going to sound like such a creep, but... I heard you singing in the Cheerio's locker room yesterday. Which, you weren't even supposed to be in there, but no worries, I won't tell Sue. Just try not to do it again because she will have your head served to her on a silver platter if she finds you in there."

"Okay," Rachel drawls. "Good to know, but uh, how did you know it was me?"

"This is the part that's going to make you think I'm a creep," Quinn starts, "but I waited for you outside. It's just that, your voice is unlike anything I've heard before and we could really use someone like you in glee. I had to know who you are, because you could be my lucky charm."

"Your lucky charm?" She's a little amused, obviously.

She thinks she sees Quinn blush, but takes it as her eyes playing tricks on her.

"I meant our lucky charm. You know, the glee club's lucky charm," Quinn corrects herself. "What do you say? Will you audition?"

She'll admit, being a part of something would be fun. She hasn't been in a club since... she hasn't been in a club for a very long time and it'd be nice to give it a go again. It's just that, she's not much of a people person. She doesn't like being around groups of people. She prefers staying inside and reading a good book as opposed to going to the mall with the girls.

She's older now, though, and this is a new school, a new town. Maybe it's time to quit acting like the social pariah and start socializing.

"I don't see any harm in auditioning," she eventually replies.

"Great!" the blonde exclaims, flashing her a small smile. She can't decipher whether or not it's fake. "If you aren't doing anything after school, you can just audition then."

"Trust me, I'm not doing anything," Rachel says, "so I can definitely audition after school."

She smiles again and Rachel decides that her smiles are real.

"Sam's in glee, so I'm sure he can show you to the choir room," Quinn informs her as she stands up. Rachel doesn't follow suit - she's in no hurry to return to the cafeteria. "Sit with us girls tomorrow, okay?" Quinn adds before she hops off the stage.

"Okay!" Rachel yells as Quinn makes her way towards the exit. Said girl throws Rachel a smile over her shoulder before disappearing out of the brunette's sight.

"I really hope I don't regret this," Rachel mutters to herself.

She wishes Mr. Schuester would shut up and Puck better quit looking at Rachel like that or she is so going to kick his ass, and...

"Okay, guys," Mr. Schue's voice interrupts her thoughts again, which is probably a good thing because she was thinking up all the ways she could murder Puck with her bare hands, "it seems Quinn has found someone new for us and she's going to audition now. Rachel, why don't you come on up here."

The girl doesn't waste any time in jumping up; she's probably eager to get away from Puck. A little too eager, actually, but Quinn's not going to question her because hell, this is Puck she's talking about here and he's a womanizer, so, it's probably best for Rachel to already want to stay away from him. Most girls don't come to the conclusion that he's bad news until after they've jumped his bones.

She shudders at the thought. She doesn't want to think about any girl having sex with Puck. Or any girl having sex with men, in general.

"I wasn't sure of which song to perform," Rachel starts, "mainly because I've never auditioned for a glee club before. I've never really..." She pauses, and Quinn wonders if she's the only one who notices how Rachel's voice cracks before her sentence trails off. "Anyway," she eventually continues, "the song I've chosen is nothing fancy, but I think you'll all enjoy it."

Quinn doesn't recognize the song when the band starts to play. It's vaguely familiar, but she can't put her finger on it - that is, not until the first few words leave Rachel's mouth.

"There's an empty room at the end of the hall,
and it's begging to swallow you whole.
Each step you take
makes it easier to fall on your face.
Each tear you fake
makes it easier to see straight through you now."

'Throwing Punches' by Paramore; it's unexpected, really. She expected to hear a Broadway song or Mariah Carey or Christina Aguilera, not Paramore, but regardless, she's captivated. And as she looks around the room, she realizes she isn't the only one, not that she's surprised.

It's impossible to not be captivated by Rachel's voice; she captures the emotion so well and the words, they pour out so beautifully from between her lips. Each and every one of her fellow glee clubbers are talented; they all have unique, beautiful voices, but Rachel... she's special. Quinn doesn't even think the girl realizes just how special she is.

"So you hang yourself from stolen dreams.
And under the table, you hide every stain."

Quinn's not sure why, but something about Rachel's voice when she sings those words causes Quinn's heart to ache. There's something so raw about her. Real.

That's when she realizes she's a goner. She just met Rachel and she doesn't know her, but that doesn't change that she's a goner. This girl, she's the one that Quinn needs to know, the one that Quinn wants to know. The one she has to know.

Boisterous applause fills the room and her thoughts are interrupted. She joins in on the clapping, but her applause isn't as enthusiastic; she's too busy staring, too busy being entranced.

"Rachel, that was amazing!" Mr. Schue exclaims as he joins her at the front of the room. The applause has faded and Quinn is no longer in her trance.

Quinn thinks the shy smile Rachel gives him is adorable. "Thank you, Mr. Schuester."

"You can count yourself in," Mr. Schue says. "That is, if you want to."

Please say you want to. Please.

Quinn can't hide her grin when Rachel says, "I want to."

"All right, then," Mr. Schue starts, "welcome to glee club, Rachel Berry."

author's note: i know this is short and not much has happened, but things will pick up next chapter... if i can write another one, that is. this took forever.

thank you for all your kind reviews, however. they're truly the only reason i decided to give this another shot.

- kara.