Disclaimer: Only in my wildest dreams could these characters be my own. Alas, it is not so. I own nothing.
A/N: Sorry that this took awhile to get out – my muse went out the window for a bit.
Sometime after she fell asleep on the couch, Rachel heard the phone ring again. This time she jumped up and answered it, hoping that she could catch her dad's before they decided to come home. Sure enough, they were about to buy the tickets for a red eye, but she talked them out of it, saying she had had a sleep over with a friend and then she and the friend had gone shopping. Rachel had never done something before in her life that made her feel as disgusting as lying to her father's had, but she just couldn't bring herself to tell them the truth. Their fears assuaged, they told her they loved her, and were going dancing now, since they found out she was okay.
'Am I okay?' She asked herself after hanging up the phone. Her physical body felt fine, but her mind… she wasn't sure what was going on in her mind. At times she was impressed, thinking that perhaps Noah was a decent guy. But then she remembered that she'd been stripped almost naked. So obviously he was a heinous creature. But then he had removed her from the party when her decisions became unsafe and he had driven her instead of allowing her to drive herself while intoxicated. That was a good thing. But he had not respected her wishes to be brought back to her house. That was bad.
As much as she hated it, because Rachel couldn't stand not being in control of anything, let alone her own life, she came to the conclusion that only Noah knew what had happened for sure. She would ask him on Monday, and just accept the answer he gave her was the truth.
All she could do now was to wait. And sleep, since she hadn't gotten nearly eight hours between falling asleep on the couch and talking to her father's. So upstairs she went, crawled under her covers, and fell into a slumber.
She did not wake up Sunday until after noon, which was odd for her. She attributed it to incredible stress, and went on with her day, doing homework, taking a shower, and worrying herself sick over what she would find out Monday. At 3:07 her cell phone rang, and she jumped to answer it.
"Hello?"
"Hey. It's Finn." Rachel smiled for the first time all day.
"Hi." She replied.
"I heard you got yourself into some trouble at Santana's party." The smile faded quickly. Oh no.
"You heard about that?" She asked.
"I don't think there's anyone who didn't."
"What did you hear exactly?" Maybe Puck wasn't the only one who could give her some answers.
"Oh, just that you decided table dancing was a fun pastime." She could hear him chuckling.
"Finn this isn't funny." Her cheeks had turned a brilliant crimson, and she sat down at her vanity so that she wouldn't pass out from shame. "I did not want to become inebriated. And I would never dance on a table of my own free will, specifically not at a high school house party."
"You're right. It isn't funny at all." He was still laughing. She went to say something else, but he cut her off, "I'm only laughing so that I don't get myself too worked up over it." A few chuckles, "I could kill Santana for pulling that stunt."
"Really?" she asked, surprised.
"Listen, I can't talk long, I'm kind of hiding from Quinn." Finn paused for a moment, and then continued, "But I just wanted to call and let you know that I'm on your side. And if anyone gives you a hard time about this, just let me know. I'll deal with them."
"That's really…" She couldn't find the words to express the immense amount of gratitude she felt for him so she simply said, "Thank you."
"Welcome." Rachel could almost see him, grinning and proud of himself for being such a stand up guy. "But hey, I can hear Quinn coming up the stairs. Talk to you on Monday?"
"Yes. That sounds good. Bye."
"Bye." And he hung up the phone. Rachel set her phone down on the vanity and sighed. At least she had found someone who would stick up for her if Puck was being his usual self on Monday.