12.
Thursday morning had Quinn feeling very out of sorts. Her mother had insisted she stay home for the day, just in case, but Quinn had played hooky enough in her senior year as it was. Besides, she wanted to see Rachel, and she had a sneaking suspicion that her mother was well aware of that as well.
She hadn't gotten a chance to talk with Rachel about their kiss the night before. Santana and Rachel had both stayed until well after nine o'clock, having dinner and talking and, even in Santana's case, joining her mother in fussing over Quinn. When it became clear to Rachel that she was not going to out-stay Santana and she felt that her fathers would probably be wanting her home, she had left, with Santana leaving shortly thereafter.
Then Rachel had texted (not called) her this morning to ask her if she would be okay getting to school on her own, because Rachel had to get to school early to finish a project and wanted Quinn to rest. Since Quinn and Rachel shared most of the same classes and Quinn knew that they didn't have any projects due in any of them right now, she was left to wonder if kissing Rachel had really been such a good idea or if she had crossed a line in their relationship which shouldn't have been crossed. She had been biting her nails worrying about it.
"I'm sure everything is fine, sweetheart," her mother spoke suddenly, pulling Quinn from her contemplative silence.
Quinn turned her head to regard her mother in the driver's seat. "What?"
The older Fabray woman looked keenly to her daughter. "Lucy Quinn Fabray, now I know I haven't always been the best mother–" Judy's face tightened.
"–Mom," Quinn tried to protest.
"No, no, it's true, I haven't," Judy admitted grievingly, "but did you really think that I was oblivious to what was happening with you and those . . . unique girls over the summer?" Quinn's silence seemed to serve as answer enough for her mother. "Darling, I knew."
In the back of Quinn's still-foggy mind she realized that there were tears building in her eyes. "I'm so sorry, mom. I never– I mean, I tried so hard to ignore it, thinking maybe it would go away, but it hasn't and being around Rachel . . . Mom, it hurts so much trying to deny it. It physically hurts," Quinn cried, because she was full-on weeping now. She took a moment to compose herself and exhaled, "If you'll just let me grab some of my things from my room at home, I promise I'll leave and you'll never have to–"
The sound of brakes screeching cut Quinn's sentence off and she lurched forward as she felt her seatbelt lock. Her first thought when the violent movement had come to a standstill was to look around the roads for whatever had made her mother stop so suddenly and, seeing absolutely nothing, she turned to her mother wildly. She saw the tears in her mother's eyes and she was sure that it was the first time in her life that she had seen her mother cry.
"Mom? Mom, I'm so sorry, I'm so so sorry," she pled as she resumed her sobbing.
Judy turned to look at her, and raised her hand and Quinn was expecting a slap across the face, so she closed her eyes. What she felt instead, was the gentle caress of her mother's fingers stroking her face.
"Oh, Lucy," her mother's voice broke. "My sweet, sweet, beautiful girl. What have I let be done to you? What have I done to you? Come here, darling." Judy reached across the center console and pulled Quinn into a hug and cried.
That was it, that was all there was for several long, quiet moments, sobs and hugs and nothing else.
"I have made so many mistakes," Judy confessed, "but taking you back, starting over with you, was not one of them. Letting you be exiled from your home when you needed me most, that was the biggest mistake I have ever made as your mother." She held Quinn's face in her hands. "You tried so hard to be the perfect daughter until it broke you, when really I should have been trying to be a better mother, instead of living under your father's thumb." Judy smiled softly and hiccupped from all her tears. "I love you so much, Quinn. You are my most important thing, and you're not going anywhere."
Quinn blinked her teary eyes. "You don't want me to leave?" she asked softly.
Judy shook her head. "Never," she said firmly. "Honey, I won't lie and tell you that this is the life I wanted you to live, but that's not because I don't approve of you or Rachel. I love Rachel. I mean, obviously not in the same way that you do because that would be wildly inap–"
"Mom," Quinn cut in, causing Judy to stumble in her explanation. "I got it. So you were saying . . .?"
Judy took a deep, calming breath and refocused herself. "It's not because I don't love Rachel, because, despite my subpar maternal ability, I've come to see Rachel as a third-daughter. And just because this isn't the life I envisioned for you, it doesn't mean that I'm not going to support you and love you. It's because this will make your life more complicated. There are people out there who are going to try to hurt you for feeling the way you do, Quinn, and your father is one of them, and I would like to be able to protect you from all of that, but there's just no way I can. I can be here for you though. And Rachel too, if she would accept me."
Quinn stared at her mother for a long time, and finally she said, "I love you, Mom," and threw her arms around her mother, because really, after a testament like that, how else was she supposed to respond?
"I love you too, Lucy Quinn," her mother answered. "So, so much."
:::::::::::::::::::
Rachel was beginning to get worried as her eyes remained fixed on the clock above the classroom door. Two minutes until class started and the chair beside her where Quinn had taken to sitting was still glaringly vacant. Where was she? Quinn was always early for everything, unless she was purposely trying to be 'fashionably late', and Quinn had never found it fashionable to be late to class before.
Rachel felt a tap on her back before she heard a "Psst, Berry," coming from behind her. Rachel turned to find Santana was trying to get her attention, which was odd, because Santana ordinarily did everything possible to not pay any attention to Rachel outside the choir room.
"How can I help you, Santana?" Rachel asked, but even to her own ears her voice sounded distressed and agitated.
"Where's Q?" the Latina asked, ignoring the tone that Rachel had taken with her.
"Santana, I have been with you nearly every second since I arrived at school this morning," Rachel said, trying to keep her voice even. "What would give you reason to believe that I know any more about Quinn's whereabouts than you?"
Santana scowled at her. "Well you have a phone, don't you? A phone that Quinn texts messages to kinda, you know, all the time?" she pointed out, as if this should have been obvious.
"Well as do you," Rachel snapped, her ill-temper finally taking control. "She could just as likely have texted you."
"Whoa, reel in the diva drama, Berry," Santana said, holding up her hands. "I was just asking."
Rachel sighed, knowing that this was true and she was out-of-line going off on Santana like that. "I'm sorry," she mumbled reluctantly to the Latina. "I just . . . I texted Quinn to tell her I couldn't drive her to school because of our 'project', and I'm worried, and if something's happened to her then I blame myself for it because it easily could have been avoided if I'd just driven her to school."
"Then text her." It was the least expected and calmest reply Rachel could remember receiving from Santana since the third grade when they had been actual friends in primary school.
Rachel hastily pulled her phone from the pocket of her jumper and typed out a message, hitting 'SEND'.
Rachel: Where are you? Santana and I are getting worried.
The bell rang and at that very moment, Quinn sprinted through the door. Ignoring the chiding glare from their teacher, Quinn hurried to the second row to the seat next to Rachel. "Is it okay if I sit here?" she asked quietly enough for only Rachel to hear.
Rachel's smile faded to scrunched. "Well, yeah. Quinn that's your seat," Rachel said, tone implying that Quinn was being ridiculous. She put her hand on the back of Quinn's chair and pulled it out for her. "Sit."
Quinn smiled, ducking her face to hide a creeping blush. "Thanks," she replied as she sat down.
As she was beginning to get her book and notepad from her bag, she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket and she pulled it out under the table.
From Rachel
Where are you? Santana and I are getting worried.
She read the message several times in confusion, before looking up at Rachel. "I'm right beside you," she whispered lowly to the girl.
Rachel looked confused for a moment until she saw the phone in Quinn's hands and pieced it together. "I sent it while we were waiting for you," she explained in an equally quiet voice.
"Oh."
Quinn read the message again, before subtly typing a response.
Quinn: You were worried about me?
Rachel, knowing what Quinn was doing, was half-disproving and half-thrilled by the risk factor of what they were doing, knowing their teacher could catch them at any moment. Her phone buzzed and glanced at it under the table.
From Quinn
You were worried about me?
Rachel briefly looked at Quinn as she replied.
Rachel: Of course I was! How could you think I wouldn't be? You're never late.
From Quinn
I'm only always early because I'm always with you :P
Rachel: Are calling me a control-freak? :l
From Quinn
Haha. No, I'm calling you a good influence. :)
Rachel looked up to see Quinn's smirking face and she smiled in return before continuing their secret conversation.
Rachel: Well I suppose that's an acceptable response :P So are you going to tell my why you were late?
From the very corner of her peripheral vision, she saw Quinn freeze for a moment, before the girl began typing, and soon Rachel felt a new vibration on her lap.
From Quinn
If I tell you, you promise not to freak out? :s
Rachel: In a room full of people where we're not even supposed to be having this exchange? I don't know Quinn, let me think about it.
She shot Quinn a glowering look just for emphasis.
From Quinn
Okay, okay. I was actually talking about AFTER class, Miss Sarcasm. :P
From Quinn
My mom apparently knows about what happened with Mackenzie over the summer.
Seeing why Quinn's mother might 'freak out' about this, Rachel calmly responded:
Rachel: Was she upset at you?
From Quinn
No, she wasn't, but I expected her to be. I started crying and telling her I would leave and then she started crying and telling me she would never want me to
From Quinn
and apologizing for not being a good mom and she hugged me and she told me she loved me. We were parked in the car halfway to school. That's why I was almost late.
From Quinn
I'm sorry I worried you.
Once Rachel was done being bombarded with the three separate texts it took for Quinn to tell her whole story, she carefully read them over. She frowned in some parts, smiled in others, happy tears sprung to her eyes, and she felt a sense of pride in Judy for being so accepting. She knew that Quinn's mother had come a long way since divorcing Mr. Fabray. She just hadn't realized how far until now. Rachel got halfway through her responding text before the bell rang and she realized that she and Quinn had spent the whole class texting one another and not paying attention to the lesson.
"Don't panic, I'll borrow the notes from Santana." Quinn's knowing assurance caused Rachel to start, if not because of the surprise then certainly because the words were whispered right into her ear.
She turned her head to look at Quinn to find the blonde with both hands placed on the back of Rachel's chair, leaning forward. Quinn smiled and it made Rachel smile in return, as if Quinn's happiness was a contagious condition that Rachel was more than happy to come down with. The blonde offered her hand delicately to Rachel, and Rachel placed her own hand into Quinn's, allowing the girl to lightly pull her up and push her chair in after her.
Rachel looked over her shoulder to smirk. "And they say chivalry is dead," she remarked.
Quinn wasn't really sure how to answer that, so she rolled her eyes and tried unsuccessfully to suppress her smile. She gently pushed Rachel to move away from the table and out the door. Rachel's footsteps slowed and came to a sudden stop, along with Santana who had been walking ahead of them, and Quinn looked over their shoulders to see what would have made them both stop. Her confusion only grew when she saw that her two friends were looking in complete opposite directions.
Quinn turned her head to follow Rachel's gaze first and her eyes fell on Cassie and Azimio standing by the water fountain and throwing the three of them dirty looks. She grabbed Rachel's shaking hand, intending to lead her in the other direction, when her eyes found the reason for Santana's sudden halt. The Skanks stood at the end of the hall, just staring at Quinn with devious looks on their faces.
"Well, what the hell are we supposed to do now?" Santana griped, just loud enough for Quinn and Rachel to hear.
Surprisingly, or not so surprisingly when Quinn really stopped to contemplate it, Rachel was the one who pushed past her two friends and carried on down the hall with her head held high in typical fashion. Santana exchanged a look with Quinn, who shrugged minutely before following after Rachel, trying to look as fearless as her best friend certainly did at that moment.
Rachel had to use all her extensive acting skills to wipe off the smirk at seeing Quinn and Santana following her. In her peripheral vision, she saw Quinn try to reassert her usual confident HBIC mask and Santana quickly trying to do the same. For Rachel, holding her head high and turning the other cheek while carrying on about her day, with only the minor setback of a recovery break in the girls' washroom after a slushy attack, was just a typical day. Her entire life for the past three-and-a-half years had consisted of braving intimidation, pointedly ignoring degradation, and maintaining her take on the moral high ground. She was an expert on it. For Quinn and Santana, who had been on the opposite side of the situation throughout high school, it seemed that this was not the case.
They made it to their Calculus class without any trouble and Rachel sat down at one of the desks in the room, beside Kurt who had gotten there before her, and she sensed, rather than saw, Quinn take a seat to her other side. Santana drifted further to the seat behind her, to be near Brittany in order to break down Calculus into more understandable concepts for the blonde. Almost as soon as Rachel sat down, Kurt was turning toward her with a gleam in his eyes.
"So," he began in a drawn out tone. Rachel smirked at her best friend's theatrics. "Spring Fling is next week. Are you coming to my house, or am I coming to yours? Or have you already made prior arrangements?"
The smile fell off Rachel's face. Spring Fling . . . she hadn't even thought about it. She had rarely even gone to dances in the past, aside from Homecoming and Prom, but she had been to almost all of them in her senior year . . . but then she had been with Finn, now she was not. There was only one person she wanted to go with and she didn't stand a chance; though they had shared a rather memorable kiss just the night before, Quinn was still concussed even now, and Rachel highly doubted that it would happen again. Even if Quinn was attracted to women and had kissed Rachel, it didn't mean anything and Rachel wasn't deluded enough to really think that it did. It had simply been a kiss - an amazing, unforgettable, exhilarating kiss - between friends. That was it.
"Actually, I wasn't planning on attending," Rachel told him, her notebook from her bag and uncapping her pen as the teacher walked into the room.
"WHAT?!" Kurt gasped loudly.
The class, including their instructor, turned to look at the two oddly and Rachel slouched in her seat as her face became red, before remembering her perfect posture and righting herself.
"Is there a problem, Mr. Hummel? Miss Berry?" Mrs. Helsing inquired with a raised brow.
Rachel sent Kurt a pointed glare before turning back to their teacher. "No, ma'am. Everything's fine, please continue," Rachel almost begged the teacher, willing Kurt to be silent for the rest of class.
She really should have known better.
As soon as the teacher's back was turned, Kurt started in on her. "Why would you not go?" he demanded in a hushed voice.
"Kurt," Rachel whined, cautiously eyeing Quinn on her other side. Despite the blonde's eyes being fixed on the board at the front of the room, she knew that Quinn was eavesdropping because her pen would stop moving whenever someone spoke. She looked back to Kurt. "Can we please discuss this later?" she begged.
"Sure," Kurt answered. Rachel sighed in relief, before the boy added, "if you tell me why you don't want to go?"
Breathing out a heavy sigh, Rachel's body slumped. "Kurt, it's really not important enough to take precedence over Ms. Helsing's lesson," Rachel tried to deter him.
She could feel Kurt's suspicious eyes on her. "You're tied for top in our class, Rachel. You can stand to have your attention divided long enough to tell me why you don't want to go to Spring Fling," he countered slyly.
"Kurt, later."
"Why don't you want to go?"
"Really, Kurt, just leave it alone."
"Why won't you go to the dance?"
"Because it's stupid, okay? And not worth missing valuable class lessons talking about it," Rachel snapped in a voice that was now above a whisper.
"Miss Berry?" Ms. Helsing's attention was now on her and Rachel felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. "Is something going on that you would like to share with me? A distraction you would like to address?" Ms. Helsing was now bearing down on Rachel over her desk, forcing Rachel to shrink back involuntarily.
"It's been a rough morning for her, Ms. H," Santana said from behind Rachel, causing their teacher to redirect her intimidation. Santana slouched and looked at the woman with a bored, almost challenging look. The Latina shrugged carelessly. "Everybody has them right? Even Miss Brilliant-Star-Model-Student can't be perfect all the time, especially when others are trying to be prying gossip-mongers?" Santana's lethal gaze shot to Kurt, who quickly averted his eyes. "She had a small outburst, she's over it now. Right, Berry?"
Rachel nodded, half in fear of their teacher's wrath and half in astonishment that it was Santana Lopez who was voluntarily shouldering the brunt of it for Rachel's sake. "Yes, ma'am. I apologize," she murmured quietly.
Ms. Helsing hovered for a moment, before relenting. "This is your last warning, Miss Berry. The next will be a visit to Figgins's office, do I make myself clear?"
"Crystal, Ms. Helsing," Rachel replied, swallowing a gulp.
"Good. Now, as I was saying . . ."
Rachel really didn't hear much else after that, because she turned her head over her shoulder and looked at Santana questioningly. The girl nodded, subtly lifting her index finger from her desk to signal Rachel to turn around and wait (and how Rachel knew that that was what Santana was telling her from a single minute lift of a finger would forever evade Rachel's understanding). A few seconds after Rachel had turned to the front and began taking notes again, she felt something poke her neck and be tucked into the back of her blouse and she stifled a surprised squeak as she reached back to find whatever it was.
Her fingers closed around a white, triangle-folded piece of ruled paper and she slowly unfolded it as quietly as possible. Her eyes turned down to the note in her lap as she kept one hand around her pen on the page of her notebook.
You're acting weird. Even for you. Trouble in the Shire?
P.S. I mean that in the less bitchiest way I'm capable of, but if you ever tell anyone that or if this note gets to anyone else, I will ends you, got it?
All Rachel needed right now was to miss more valuable class time with texts and gossip and notes; however, she knew Santana well enough to know that if she tried to ignore her, Santana would just start making paper-footballs and aiming them at the back of Rachel's head. Wanting to spare herself further harassment, she wrote down an explanation.
I concede to your pact of discretion, Santana, and I understand that sarcasm is your way of masking genuine concern. Thank you for getting Ms. Helsing "off my back", as you would say. To answer your question, I am fine. Kurt was simply persistently inquiring as to why I will not be attending the Spring Fling and I had a moment lapse of patience.
Thank you for your consideration,
Rachel Berry
Without refolding the note, seeing as it would look more suspicious in her opinion, Rachel returned the note to Santana's desk and turned back around to pay attention to the rest of class.