"Drum Fills in Our Hearts"
Part 2 Chapter 3 - She Lives in the Recess of My Mind
Turning around from the stovetop, Rachel nearly dropped her mug. A groggy Quinn sat upright and facing away from her, hair sticking straight out in the back. She'd forgotten about Quinn. The rest came back quickly. The game at the bar. The shots. Kissing in the cab. The want in Quinn's voice as she said, "I've wanted to do this to you for years, Rachel." (Now that it was fully recalled, she made a mental note to never forget that line.) Feeling Quinn beneath her as they kissing on her couch. Why had it stopped? Someone had gotten sick. She'd woken up next to a clean trash can this morning. But it wasn't that.
Oh.
The question.
Are you going to let me see it?
It made her feel sick now thinking about it. She closed her eyes and frowned, trying to recall what had happened next.
"Rachel?"
Quinn's voice was weak and gravelly.
"Hi." She'd wavered between giving Quinn a smile and a straight face and had somehow landed upon awkwardly quirking the left side of her lip.
"Do you have any ibuprofen?"
Oh, right. Quinn had been sick. She set her mug down and scrambled to grab a glass of water and an assortment of pain relievers from a drawer in the kitchen.
"How are you feeling?" Rachel asked as she gently took a seat at the end of the couch. Quinn quickly pulled her feet off the end of the couch to sit up and grab the glass of water Rachel had placed on the table.
Instead of answering, Quinn raised her glass of water and shook the bottle of pills.
"Right."
They sat in silence for a while. Quinn sipping on her water, Rachel on the tea in her mug. Quinn struggled to piece together the night before.
"Sorry for last night," Quinn began. Apologizing couldn't always be her solution. That was a frequent Dr. White saying and it ran through her mind for a moment. But this apology felt right.
"What? Why?" Rachel looked at her and froze, her brow furrowed.
Maybe she'd remembered things incorrectly. But she'd gotten sick right? You don't puke in someone's house at 24 years old and act like it's a normal occasion.
"For getting sick?"
"Oh. Oh, Quinn. We were both in bad shape. Still are." Rachel gave her a shy smile and looked back into her mug.
Quinn wasn't quite sure what to do next. She wasn't quite ready to leave. She wasn't sure that she was physically able to leave. If she had to be fully upright and functional, she'd probably have to run to the nearest trash can. And the humidity outside wouldn't relieve the still slight churning in her stomach. She was glad for the air conditioning and the blinds blocking out the sun in Rachel's apartment.
"It's actually probably for the best that you got sick," Rachel nearly whispered.
Quinn let out a short, weak laugh. "Yeah? Glad you see it that way. I mean, why?"
"I think we were headed for a making a pretty treacherous mistake, don't you?" Rachel looked down at the carpet now. The confidence and energy from the night before had disappeared.
"Making out?"
"I think we were on our way to a bit more than that, right?" Quinn's eyebrow shot up as Rachel looked at her.
"Oh. Gosh. I...uh...we were?" Rachel thought she could almost detect a little hope in Quinn's voice.
She was a touch surprised to feel it, but relief washed over Rachel. Quinn didn't remember. She didn't remember the question. That embarrassing, stupid question that Rachel had asked.
Rachel just nodded.
"Rachel, last night...are you sorry that it happened?" Quinn's toe dug into the area rug on the floor. Old Quinn. Rachel smiled. Old habits...
"A little."
Quinn wanted to cry. Instead, it felt like she'd throw up. She closed her eyes and just practiced breathing. She hadn't had to use what they'd called her "strategies" a whole lot since her time away from Lima. She'd usually kept herself out of situations that involved serious coping skills. But sitting here, on Rachel's couch, she listened closely to the sound of the air conditioner humming in the corner. She focused on her breath in, through the nose. Then slowly and quietly back out. Counting.Things are ok. You'll be ok. There are people in this world who love you very much. My mom. Puck. Dr. White.
Rachel's voice cut through her concentration. "...differently. I would have done it differently. Less alcohol. More getting to know one another."
Quinn took a moment to put a pause on the breathing techniques and replay Rachel's last statements.
"What do you mean?"
"I just mean...I did like it. I do like you, Quinn. I just don't like the way that everything happened last night, I guess."
"Yeah?" Quinn pushed the hair out of her face and looked up at Rachel shyly.
"Yeah," Rachel smiled and gently moved her hand to cover Quinn's on the couch.
"I never thought I'd see you again." She so desperately did not want to look at Rachel that she nearly put her back to her. But she flipped her hand to squeeze Rachel's fingers between her own.
"I wasn't sure either." Rachel's voice was quiet, too.
"Did you ever think about me?"
Rachel laughed like it's the most obvious answer. "Of course."
It's the little laugh more than the answer itself that made Quinn turn back to face Rachel.
"Me too."
"Come here and let me tell you a story, Quinn." Rachel pat her lap, and Quinn crawled to put her head against Rachel's thighs. She immediately felt Rachel's fingers pushing gently through the tangles in her hair.
"So, there was this girl named Rachel who just knew every little thing she wanted out of life at the early age of three. There was always a handsome man. There was a beautiful home, preferably with at least a baby grand piano in the foyer. There were two little tow-headed toddlers jibber-jabbering around the house. There were playbills with her face framed in every room of the house, including the basement powder room. And even as little Rachel grew into medium-sized Rachel, this fantasy continued. She rarely reevaluated it. She was one-minded in her pursuit of her childhood dream. By the time medium-sized Rachel became big Rachel, it was second nature to assume that all of these things would be true. So, when her first boyfriend, who, of course, was supposed to be her only boyfriend and the love of her life, confessed to being rather aimless in his ambition, she felt revolted. And, when this same, supposedly 'handsome' man couldn't control himself during some rather tepid makeout sessions, she felt even more sick. Her dream was falling apart. Her handsome man was a sham. So she ditched him and readjusted. The plan continued, just without the man."
Quinn took a few moments to appreciate the story. She'd always wondered what motivated Rachel to be so driven.
"Wait," she thought about the timeline of the story. She dumped him. "So you didn't have sex with Finn? You wanted to date him so badly, Rach."
"Well, our high school wants aren't necessarily fueled by intense physical desire. Finn just lived inside my mind as this perfect boyfriend specimen. He was the guy that three year-old Rachel dreamed up and it took until nineteen to actually determine that he wasn't what adult Rachel wanted."
"So...you're not still a virgin are you?"
She didn't think that she heard Rachel laugh at that. Still, she wasn't looking into her face, so she couldn't be sure. But, she felt pretty hyperaware at the question and she thought that maybe, for a split second, Rachel did laugh.
"No, I'm not." It came out pretty even-keeled though.
The situation was just intimate enough that Quinn decided to take a gamble.
"That makes one of us."
She felt the hands against her scalp stop for a moment. "Never?" Rachel asked.
"Never."
"Well, it's not all it's cracked up to be. At least the first time, anyway."
"Hearing Puck talk about it, you wouldn't think that."
"I suppose that's true. But we're also talking about Puck. If we wanted what Puck wanted, I'd question our sanity."
Quinn could only laugh. Rachel still knew Puck pretty well.
"But you have...like..." Rachel didn't want a repeat of the night before. "It...you're...gosh..."
"You somehow are able to talk about all of these things when you're drunk, Rach," Quinn said. She felt a smile tug at the side of her mouth, but she wasn't sure she was ready to smile just yet. They were on shaky ground.
Rachel laughed.
"I have it and it works, if that's what you're asking." Quinn felt tense again. Like she might need to listen to the hum of the air conditioner or start naming the people who care for her.
"But no girlfriends?" Rachel's hands were back at work on her scalp and she pushed the hum of the air conditioner to the back of her mind.
"Surprisingly, I've even had one or two of those."
"That's not surprising, Quinn." Rachel said it with that bossy little tone she used to use to tell the band to count off. "You're a beautiful, talented girl."
It felt good to hear Rachel Berry say that.
"So, girlfriends, but no sex?"
"What's a girl gonna say when she finds out?" Quinn could almost feel herself slip into the conversation she'd prepared to have with Kristen. In the end, it was too unnerving and she was too scared. She'd figured for the first girlfriend, she'd just appreciate that she'd had the chance to finally kiss a girl. She'd worry about actually telling the next one. Whoever that might be.
"What's a girl going to say when she finds out?"
"I don't know. I guess each girl might be different. I mean, hopefully that she loves you no matter what, right?"
Rachel certainly wasn't expecting it, but Quinn lets loose a full laugh. No matter what. That had been exactly what Dr. White had said all those years ago.
"What's so funny?" Rachel's said, smiling down at her.
Quinn looked up, making eye contact for the first time in several minutes. "Does that exist in real life?"
"What?"
"'Love no matter what'?"
"I'm not so sure, actually. It hasn't existed in my love life. Somehow my boyfriend's haven't been able to get over my insatiable love for theater and Streisand."
"I believe that." Quinn smiled up at her and braced herself.
"Hey!" Rachel pulled a hand out of Quinn's locks to playfully bat at her arm.
"No no," Quinn laughed, "I don't mean that you're unlovable or anything...well, I mean, Streisand? But, you know, you're still lovable despite those things. I mean, the whole 'loving someone no matter what' idea. It can work."
"So then what's stopped you from telling those girls that you've dated? You know, if it can work."
"I guess I just didn't want to feel like I've always felt about myself. I didn't want yet another person telling me I was a freak. I've head that enough, you know, growing up and stuff." Rachel's hands stilled and Quinn turned to fully face Rachel.
"But you'll never know what a girl thinks if you end up never telling her."
"You know," Quinn relented a small smile, "that's crossed my mind."
"Well I think you're lovely, Quinn."
"Even with a dick?" She poked a finger into Rachel's arm.
"Well, that's a crude term for it. Maybe it you just had something better to call it?"
Quinn looked to a spot across the room and extended her hand, "Excuse me...future nonexistent girlfriend? I have a weiner."
Rachel's body shook with giggles. "Nope, no weiners. It's not tubed meat."
"Cock?"
"Ugh, I hate that word."
"A little something extra?"
"Sounds like a Weight Watchers singles ad. More to love?"
"Yeah, more to love." Quinn laughed back.
"Could work, you know. Everyone could do with a little more to love."
They both erupted into giggles considering the prospect of Quinn using the phrase "more to love."
"Why don't you guys stop by the bar tonight, after your gig?"
"Me and Puck?"
"Yeah, it'll be good to have the old crew hang out again."
"Yeah, I think he'd like that. Long as he doesn't have some old hag hanging off him."
"We'll take it easier than last night. No shots. No games. Just good friends and good conversation."
"Cool."
With Rachel's hands still idly playing with her hair and the low din of the air conditioner humming away, she felt like she could fall asleep for hours. But there were some lingering responsibilities before the night's show. She checked her watch and sat up.
"I should get going, but I look forward to tonight."
Rachel walked her to the door and pressed her body against Quinn's in a tight hug.
...
Quinn always found this call most comfortable to make when she was somewhere private and where it was easy to recline. Originally she had wanted to call after her night out alone with Rachel. It had seemed like the type of thing she'd need to process. But she'd crashed on her bunk bed as soon as she'd gotten back to the hostel and had just enough time to shower and grab her sticks before she and Puck were running to catch the train to their show.
The night out at Rachel's bar had been "good friends and good conversation," as Rachel put it. Puck finally thought about something other than his dick and they ended up spending most of the night reminiscing about just how good their high school band could have been.
She closed the blinds on the late morning sun and laid back on the bunk bed in her hostel room to pound out the numbers she'd memorized years ago.
"Hi, Quinn. It's good to hear from you."
"Dr. White. You, too."
"Where are you calling me from this time? DC?"
"No, we're in New York for a few more days, then back to DC."
"Oh fantastic. I've always loved those little jazz clubs tucked away by Washington Square Park."
"Yeah, our gig for the week is actually in midtown. But we've played in that area, too."
"How's the crowd this week?"
"They're not bad. We've gotten some big crowds. We've had a few old jazz guys come in and play a few songs with us. We're making decent money."
"You're living the life, truly." She could hear him smiling on the other end.
Quinn laughed. "If you say so, Dr. White. If you say so."
"Have you talked to your mother since the last time we talked?"
"Our first night in town I gave her a call. We talked for about an hour about our jobs, touring, how Puck was doing. Mom has a new boyfriend I'm supposed to meet the next time I'm in town." This was so much easier than it used to be. Quinn was glad for that.
"When's that going to be?"
"Not sure. We're back in DC for a little while, but we're booked up with gigs. At the latest, it'll be sometime around the holidays, I'm guessing."
"Well that's not too too far away."
"Yeah."
The line was quiet for a while. Dr. White and his techniques for conversation. Quinn knew she had to talk about her. He'd find a way to pull it out of her anyway. He'd probably sensed it since the first moment she began talking.
"So, I have seen Rachel a few times since we've been here."
"Oh?"
He was so cool. Just a simple, "Oh." For the girl that had forced special treatment and extra sessions for Quinn through her late teens.
"Yeah. Puck ran into her at a bar and invited her to our gig."
"And how is Rachel these days?"
"She's good, I guess. She's different."
"How is that, Quinn?"
"Well, she doesn't seem so uptight, I guess. She's a bartender in New York. She mentioned something about doing some touring for a musical, but I don't think it's what she wants to be doing. She actually seemed kind of disappointed about her life when we talked about that."
"Your expectations for your life can change between school and entering the workforce. Sometimes it can be scary and disappointing. How does she seem to be doing with it?"
"I'm not too sure. When we first talked, she was kinda mad, I guess. Like bitter that she hadn't found as much success as she'd wanted to." Quinn decided to leave out the part where she all but verbally attacked her outside of the bar. They were past that now anyway, she hoped.
"I would imagine that's a difficult thing."
"Yeah."
"And how have the conversations been since that first one?"
"Well..." Quinn knew she couldn't lie. The last time she'd lied to Dr. White was in high school. She couldn't even withhold. She'd realized pretty early on into their monthly phone conversations that if she withheld information, it just came spilling forth in nearly incomprehensible bits and pieces during their next conversation. It was better to just get it out and talk it through.
"Well, we haven't done a lot of talking. We actually...kind of...I guess hooked up?"
"Mmmhmmm. 'Hooked up.' How do the kids define that these days?" Same steady tone as usual.
"We kissed a bit. I don't know, heavy petting?"
"That's a term I'm more familiar with. Ok. How did you feel about that?"
"Good? I don't know, really. I mean, partly I don't know because I was really drunk when it happened and I don't remember that much of it. Just like little snapshots of the night."
"Ok."
"I've put her out of my mind for so long. I did it on purpose for a long time and then she just kind of faded in to the recesses of my mind. So it's weird to have her come back but not quite as the same Rachel I remember. As I'm trying to process it, sometimes she feels like a different person completely."
"And how does that make you feel?"
"I think...I think I'm relieved, actually. Like there isn't as much pressure to impress this girl that I so badly wanted to impress years ago. There's this feeling like I still know her and can talk to her, which is good, but that I don't need to do anything special, which just makes things better, I guess."
"Sounds like things are going well, then."
"She has off tomorrow night, so we're actually going to go out. Like a date."
"That's great, Quinn."
It did feel pretty great.