"You look like crap."
Quinn rolled her eyes, ignoring Santana's remark. Truth be told, she felt like crap. She hadn't been able to sleep, her mind had simply never stopped churning out worthless ploys to try to prevent Rachel from playing in today's game. Coach Beiste had caught wind of Finn's failed apology and told him he wasn't allowed to ride the bench or even suit up. Things were looking bleak on the prom-front for one Quinn Fabray.
Santana kicked the back of Quinn's chair, forcing the girl to address her. "What?" Quinn snarled.
"B told me what you had her do."
She put on her best poker face, "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Your little joke? Not that I don't approve of locking Yentl up, but why are you getting B to do your dirty work?"
The blonde merely shrugged and turned back around in her seat, "Misunderstanding."
"Like Hell it was," the other girl leaned forward, "I know you're up to something. I'm gonna figure it out. And when I do? I'll be paying you back for spilling about my surgery. Just because we're not Cheerios anymore doesn't mean I'm dropping it."
"Whatever."
Kill me now.
The turnout for Lima Bowl was even bigger than usual, since the team had just nabbed the division title. Stands were packed with students, parents, faculty and even some alums. Hand-made signs featuring puns about Lima beans were being waved by grinning fans, covered in face paint. The team mascots were dancing around, pumping up the crowd. The game was about to start and everyone was having a fantastic time.
Except me.
Quinn was bundled up against the February cold, wearing her red and white scarf and a matching knitted hat. She was sitting with the Glee kids between Tina and Mercedes. Earlier, Finn had momentarily made to sit by her, but her expression was enough to make him rethink it and grab a spot two rows behind instead. Kurt had shown up, dragging a sullen Blaine behind him. He leaned into Mercedes, hitching a thumb in the other Warbler's direction, and said simply, "Boy troubles." Mercedes shook her head, laughing, and reached out to pat his arm.
"I almost forgot," Kurt shouted over the crowd. "I want you all to come to Breadstix tomorrow night. We're putting on a performance for V-Day."
Quinn nodded absently, having all but forgotten that tomorrow would be the fourteenth. Her wandering mind was called down to the field, as the announcer's voice boomed over the crowd.
"Ladies and gentleman! Please turn your eyes to the field and give a warm welcome to our very own McKinley Titans!"
Hazel eyes narrowed, trained on the tiny figure sporting a number 1 leading the charge for the home team. The crowd cheered and clapped. Mercedes nudged Quinn in the side, triggering a half-hearted applause from the blonde. The announcer moved on, introducing the Elida Bulldogs which caused a wave of boos and hisses to issue from the bleachers. A referee waved from the 50-yard line, Rachel and the other team's captain jogged over. The coin toss clearly landed in Rachel's favor, as the small girl was jumping up and down, clapping. The ref gave a signal and the announcer boomed overhead once more.
"Titans win the coin toss! They're opting to receive the kickoff. Let's get this Lima Bowl underway!"
Despite herself, Quinn feels trepidation in her veins as she watches the tiny singer take her place on the turf.
Fifteen minutes later, Quinn is on her feet, more vested in this game of football than any game she's seen prior. Every time the ball goes into play, her knuckles go white gripping the railing in front of her as she leans out, trying to get a better view. Were she asked, she'd probably just say the crowd's enthusiasm is contagious.
The Titans are winning by two touchdowns at the end of the first half, thanks to a lot of rather skillful plays by one Rachel Berry. Sam's description from the other day echoes through Quinn's mind as she replays all the girl's zigzagging runs and impressively accurate passes. Mercedes thought it would be better if Quinn didn't watch the Cheerios perform during the half-time show, so the pair offer to make a concession run for everybody. The game is already back on when they return. Quinn flings a hot dog into Blaine's lap and thrusts a soda into Tina's hands so she can get back to her spot on the railing.
Four minutes into the third quarter, Quinn's heart almost shoots out of her throat as she watches Rachel get tackled for the first time. A few bodies are peeled off and Sam crouches over his quarterback. Looking a bit rumpled, but no worse for wear, the brunette takes an arm from the her teammate and stands up. She adjusts her helmet momentarily, then turns to wave at the crowd as though she's won an award.
Thank God. That guy was huge.
With a few seconds left in the same quarter, Rachel gets sacked again. A stream of obscenities comes flying out of Quinn's mouth directed at the perpetrator. Mercedes and Tina share a confused look behind her back. She's far too transfixed with the action to notice. Half an hour later, the game draws to an end, with McKinley winning by 8 points. Having already shouted herself hoarse, Quinn sticks two fingers in her mouth and whistles for the victory. The two football teams do a quick series of "good game" high-fives before lining up to hear the overall winner of the competition. A chorus of "We Will Rock You" picks up while the judges deliberate. The stadium speakers crackle to life.
"What a great game! Let's hear it for those football players!" The crowd hoots and hollers for a few moments and the announcer continues. "I have to say, tonight's Lima Bowl is one for the record books. After careful consideration, the judges have come to a unanimous vote! Your hands-down, bean-wielding champions this year are … THE TITANS!"
The audience erupts in wild cheers and a mob pours out onto the field. A referee runs the coveted cup of Lima beans out to Rachel, who hoists it as high up as she can. All of the Glee club rush the field as well, yelling and clapping for their friends. Even though division was a bigger game, something about this night feels more exhilarating. Everyone is jumping and bouncing together. Quinn is grinning, her devices on the prom buried deep in her subconscious, as she hugs anybody who crosses her path. The trophy is passing from hand-to-hand amongst the players, each one enjoying the silly glory of chromed, fake beans. In all the excitement, Quinn turns and wraps her arms around another football player, only to find herself looking down at a glowing Rachel Berry.
The two stare at each other for a beat before Quinn relinquishes her hold and takes a step back. Her brain is flooded with a jumble of thoughts—she survived the game, there are stars on her helmet, her performance tonight definitely landed her a permanent position as quarterback, what am I going to do about the prom, but the most pressing problem on her mind is an apparent lack of things to say. Rachel notices the hang-time and promptly fills the void.
"We won!"
It's not much, but it's enough. Quinn smiles and nods, "Yeah!" Before she has to come up with anything further, Sam practically knocks her over from the side with a crushing hug. Rachel laughs and turns away, vanishing into the crowd. The blonde girl feels a strange mix of relief and regret as she returns her boyfriend's hug, eying the previously occupied space.
Hanging out at the Kewpee Burger after the game wasn't exactly what Quinn had in mind when she told Sam they could spend time together, but she went along with it. Everyone was still wired after winning the Lima Bowl and clamoring away about the game's highlights. She was sipping a strawberry shake, listening to Rachel recount, in excruciating detail, her experiences.
The diva was gesturing dramatically, a few knuckles wrapped in athletic tape, hair still in braids and smudges of eye black remained on her cheeks. "In those few moments, I knew what I had to do. No one was open, the ball was in my hands...it was destiny. I ran. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the hygienically challenged number 43 lumbering toward me," Quinn rolled her eyes. "Even though he was twice my size, I knew I had to be brave. I barreled ahead, bracing for the terrible impact I knew was to come, when suddenly-"
"BAM! The Puckmesiter saves the day!" Puck reaches over to give Mike a high-five and smirks at Lauren.
Rachel drops her hands in annoyance, "Yes, Noah. Your timing was impeccable. Anyway," the hands go back up and she continues her tale of the thirty-yard dash that first gained them the upper hand during the second quarter.
An hour passes and Quinn is starting to feel drowsiness set in. She elbows Sam and tosses her head at the door. He nods and turns back to the group at large.
"I think me and Quinn are headed out. Goodnight guys. Great game."
A chorus of "goodnights" and "see yas" fire off around the small diner. Rachel is the last one to say goodbye.
"Thank you again for all your hard work, Sam. See you later! Goodnight, Quinn."
Maybe it's the long day, the lack of sleep, the excitement from the game. Whatever it is, Quinn doesn't realize it's happening until it's already slipped out. "G'night, Rachel."
No one else catches the significance. The only acknowledgment is an almost imperceptible widening of Rachel's eyes and a flicker in Quinn's gaze. She turns, taking Sam's arm, and walks out. But the thought stays: No insult. No nickname. I've never used her first name while talking to her until just now.
Saturday, Quinn sleeps in until nearly lunchtime. Peaking open one bleary eye, she evaluates the amount of sunlight flooding her room.
Ugh, probably time to get up.
Kicking off her covers and stretching, she picks up her phone off the nightstand.
→Happy Valentine's Day! Love you!
Quinn frowns. The thoughtfulness of Sam's text, sending a message even knowing they'll see each other later that day, fills her with guilt. She hesitates, trying to decide how to reply.
←Thanks, you're so sweet! xo
Love isn't a word Quinn likes to toss around. Yes, she has told Sam that she loves him, but it's hard to explain what she's really thinking when she says it. "I appreciate you and am very grateful that you think you love me, but that's a very strong word and I'd rather just say I like you. Or I enjoy you. So thanks for your heart, I'll just set it here on my shelf next to my favorite novel and a picture from the time I went to Disneyland. Sound fair?"
She dropped the phone onto her bed, tucked her feet into her slippers and padded out the door in search of some breakfast. Or maybe by now it would be brunch.
"Morning, Mom."
"Just barely," Judy looked up from her newspaper. "Hungry?"
"Starving."
"Take a seat, I'll make pancakes."
Quinn smiled and plopped herself down on a stool at the kitchen bar, "Awesome."
A few minutes later, Quinn had a plateful of heart-shaped pancakes with a side of bacon.
"Happy Valentine's," Judy said, indicating the plate. "What are you and Sam getting up to today?" she poured Quinn some orange juice.
Quinn drizzled syrup onto her cakes, paused for a moment, shrugged, and proceeded to pour syrup onto the bacon, too. "Dinner at Breadstix."
"Sounds nice, what are you going to wear?"
"Dunno, hadn't really planned it out yet," she managed through a full mouth.
"I'm sure you'll look beautiful, whatever you decide. Sam is a lucky boy. Speaking of planning outfits, you and I should start the hunt for that perfect prom dress soon." She smiled, ruffling her daughter's hair and walked back out to the living room.
Quinn looked down at her plate, her previous appetite ebbing away.
Quinn and Sam scooted into a booth facing the impromptu stage just as Kurt tapped on the microphone.
"Testing, one-two-three! Test-testing! One-two-three. All right. So, happy Valentine's Day everybody. For those of you Breadstix patrons who don't know who I am, I am Kurt Hummel and welcome to my first ever Lonely Hearts Club dinner." He chuckled softly before continuing, "Whether you are single with hope or are madly in love and are here because I forced you to come out and support me, sit back and enjoy. And to all the singles out there, this is our year."
Sam wrapped his arm around his girlfriend as the Warblers began singing "Silly Love Songs." They watched together as Blaine danced around, addressing the lyrics to various customers table-by-table. Quinn found her gaze wandering over to Rachel, who was sitting in a booth near the front with Mercedes, Mike and Tina.
Single right now, but I bet on Monday she gets a deluge of offers. How weird will that be? Some guy strutting around school saying that he's dating the quarterback.
And then it hit her. The idea was ludicrous. Worse than ludicrous, it was downright insane. She watched as Kurt leaned in to hug Rachel and Mercedes before retreating to the stage, wrapping up the song.
If I'm going to be the prom queen, I need to be dating the quarterback.
The song ended and everyone except Quinn clapped for the Warblers. She carried on, staring at Rachel, as though in a trance.
Rachel is the quarterback.
"It's the only way," she muttered.
"What?" Sam asked.
Quinn snapped her attention away from the brunette, who was now talking fervently with Kurt.
"Nothing."
Sam gave her a quizzical look, but let the matter drop. He picked up a menu and began reading silently.
It really is the only way.
She nodded resolutely before picking up her own menu. Her eyes glided across the laminated sheet, but the words were lost on her.
I need to be Rachel Berry's girlfriend.