Some things about Rachel Berry had changed since high school (she swore like a sailor, for one) but many things had not. Chief among those character traits that had remained consistent: organization, planning, and persistence. A combination of those three qualities formed the reason that Rachel found herself jogging in a circuit she had mapped such that it would take her by the Fabray house three times in one run. Every time, she glanced sidelong at the front of the house as she passed by hoping that, by chance, Quinn would be outside and would wave her over for a chat.
She had no luck on Monday, no luck on Tuesday, and almost gave up by Wednesday, but was glad she didn't because it was on Wednesday that she caught a glimpse of Quinn Fabray dressed in Carhartt work pants rolled up to the knee and a ribbed white tank top standing on a ladder against the front of the home. Rachel slowed down, hoping that Quinn would turn around and see her running by but she just kept cleaning the gutters, never glancing toward the street.
After Wednesday's Quinn sighting, Rachel realized that she would have to change her methodology. Clearly she was not going to get away with the happenstance meeting she had hoped for and would have to figure out a slightly more proactive approach to figuring out what was so wrong with Quinn Fabray. She opened her email and was surprised to see a message waiting her from Quinn.
To: Rachel Berry
From: Quinn Fabray
You can stop running by my house every day. Mom told me she saw you at the Lima Bean and that you may be calling. Don't bother.
Rachel was somewhat nonplussed. In the first place, Quinn had seen her and had the gall to ignore her. In the second place, focusing on Quinn had allowed her to forget for a few hours that she was back in Lima to inevitably disappoint her fathers and to face head on her upended world view. If, as it sounded, however, Quinn did not want her around, then she was back to wallowing in her own issues. She huffed (yet another trait that she held onto from her younger days) and tapped her fingers against the keys, pondering a reply. The longer she stared at the screen, the more frustrated she became. Rachel never asked for Judy Fabray to assault her in the line at the Lima Bean. She never asked for Quinn to be in Lima and not Canada where she belonged. And she certainly never asked Quinn to fucking email her. Before she could stop herself, she pounded out a reply and pushed send.
To: Quinn Fabray
From: Rachel Berry
Hello Quinn. First, I hope you are well, and that your sister has a lovely wedding. Second, I had no idea I was running by your home! I was so caught up in my route that I didn't even notice where I had ended up. Third, I had no intention of calling you, I mean, why would I? It isn't like we have spoken in, what, five years?! If I hadn't run into Judy at the coffee shop I never would have expected you to even be here. Don't you live in Toronto now?
Fuck off, Quinn Fabray.
Warmest regards,
Rachel Barbra Berry *
PS - Is your sister's wedding the only reason you are in Lima? I had no idea you even go along with her.
Satisfied with herself, Rachel headed off for a shower. She fully expected Quinn to ignore her email so she would have to find another mechanism for further avoidance of the Rachel Berry Addressing Her Sexuality With Her Homosexual Fathers Plan. As she stood under the scalding water watching the steam collecting on the glass shower door, she became more and more ashamed of herself. She had been in Lima for less than a week and had regressed to something most similar to the teenaged version of herself. She was throwing mini-tantrums, ranting by email, and letting Quinn Fabray get under her skin. Gone was the confident, on-the-cusp of stardom adult that had left New York and, in her place, was a petulant and immature human that Rachel didn't recognize. "I may as well wear a sweater with a fucking giraffe on it," she muttered out loud to no one.
Rachel toweled herself off and grabbed her laptop, flopping on her bed intent on wasting the afternoon away watching videos online and not thinking about anything serious. Unfortunately her email box had been left open and she was faced with an unread message - a reply from Quinn.
To: Rachel Berry
From: Quinn Fabray
Your email was nonsensical. You want me to fuck off and then you ask me questions as a post-script? Who does that? Apparently Rachel BARBRA Berry does that. Ugh. Since when do you even tell people to fuck off (you hate that word, or, at least you used to)? You live four blocks from me, by the way, and you haven't been away from Lima long enough to have forgotten where you were, so nice try.
Sincerely,
Lucy Quinn Fabray
PS - What brings you to Lima in October? That's the real question...
Rachel fought the urge to chuck her Macbook against the wall and instead opted to attempt to beat Quinn at whatever game they were currently playing. She smiled inwardly, however, at how quickly they had fallen into the familiar bantering relationship that they had formed during their years in college.
To: Quinn Fabray
From: Rachel Berry
Lucy (I didn't know I was allowed to call you that, but I think I will),
Thank you so much for your kind reply! I am in Lima to visit my fathers as they have recently returned from a trip abroad and I missed them. I am between engagements since the run of my last show ended so I decided I would come home for Columbus Day. Dad and Daddy always love it when I can make it to town as they know how busy the schedule of an actress can be! :) In any case, you never answered my question! How long will you be in town? Are you heading back to Toronto when the wedding is over?
Best,
RBB*
Game, set and match: Berry. Rachel was incredibly pleased with herself. She had maintained her calm demeanor and had not let her (inexplicable) frustration with Quinn get the best of her. She was also thrilled with the ease with which her lie rolled off her fingertips. Rachel had no problem being out of the closet - which she would argue she was never in in the first place - but Quinn Fabray certainly didn't need to find out about her epiphany before her parents did. Rachel closed the lid of her laptop as she heard the garage door rolling up signaling the arrival of Leroy or Hiram. She pulled on a pair of yoga pants and a tank top, tossed her wet hair up in a messy bun and bounced down the stairs forgetting for the moment about a blonde sitting four blocks away.
Rachel and her fathers spent the evening embroiled in round after round of the Berry-oake (a version of competitive Karaoke that Rachel had dreamed up while at NYADA). It was well after midnight when Rachel finally headed up to her room and checked her email again.
To: Rachel Berry
From: Quinn Fabray
I've been going to the Lima Bean every morning at 8:30. Just an FYI.
Q.
Rachel smiled and set her alarm for 7:30 the next morning.