With Brittany and Santana making their way up the street, the front door to the Fabray household thrummed shut. Quinn clutched its handle, drawing a deep breath.
After a moment or two, she slowly let it out, before heading back into the lounge, where both her parents and Miss Berry were inevitably sat waiting for her.
"Where are your manners, Quinnie?" Judy started, as soon as her daughter reappeared. "Fetch Mrs Berry a glass of water, and a slice of homemade cherry pie."
"Thank you, Mrs Fabray. But that won't be necessary," Rachel spoke up, before Quinn could slink off into the kitchen without cause to. She drew her eyes along the cheerleader's stoic side profile, looking for Quinn to acknowledge her presence, since she still had yet to.
"It's no trouble, Mrs Berry - honestly," Judy insisted, to which Russell rolled his eyes.
"Quit fussing over pie, and let the woman say what she came here to say," he scolded, pointing to the vacant spot on the couch beside him.
Judy was seated within a matter of seconds.
It took Rachel a moment to realize that they were still talking about the homemade cherry pie. She allowed her gaze to float away from Quinn and back to Mrs Fabray, granting her a warm smile. "Whilst I'm sure that your pie is delightful, I can assure you; I'm fine - and it's Miss Berry."
That last little tidbit of information seemed to slow Judy in her tracks, as quiet judgement curled her upper lip up slightly. She bounced her palm against her hairdo snootily. "It's just, well you're so well-kept. I just... assumed," she trailed off.
Rachel flexed her hand before the other woman. "No wedding ring as of yet. I keep myself looking well. Not that there's anything wrong with the alternative," she clarified, glancing between Mr and Mrs Fabray as if to signify what the alternative was, "but I'm not nearly traditional enough to allow a man to keep me. I too much enjoy my independence."
If the circumstances had been different – and the hot teacher who may've been about to spill her secret was not sat dillydallying with her strict overly religious parents – Quinn might have chuckled at the way that Rachel's polite rebuttal had shut her mother down. But the circumstances were not different. Beneath her stony exterior, her heart was in uproar within the confines of her chest, her mouth dry; muscles tense under anxious reign.
If this was going to happen, Quinn just wanted it over and done with, which was why she rolled her eyes at the scene before her, and impatiently snapped, "why are you here?" in her music teacher's direction.
"Now, Quinnie, to each their own; I know she's not traditional like us. But you mustn't be rude. Come sit down, and stop loitering by the banister," Judy said, summoning her daughter over.
"Do as your mother says!" Russell cosigned, much more firm in his tone than his wife had been. He then regarded the guest in his home and urged, "can we get this show on the road? Game's set to start in an hour."
Rachel looked upon the Fabray family, absorbing their way, and for the first time she really started to grasp what hell Quinn probably lived, on a daily basis. What was clear was that there was no room for difference, and if by some miracle it managed to seep through, it was met with absolute disapproval – shooed back into the shadows where it was to cower whenever it thought about rearing its head again. Unrelenting expectation seemed to claw up from the very carpet fibers, and it was so thick that Rachel honestly did not know how Quinn had made it seventeen years in such an overbearing environment.
Throw in the fact that the young blonde was a lesbian and…
"To answer your question, Quinn, I'm just here to talk about the Glee Club," Rachel explained, voice gentle with new-found understanding. "That's all," she promised, her eyes deep and compassionate.
The visibly tense teenager parked herself onto the armchair across the room, and granted her the eye contact that she'd been looking for since the moment that she'd entered the Fabray home.
"Then talk about Glee Club," Quinn murmured. Her spine remained erect, as if she needed to be ready, just in case.
Rachel held her stony autumnal gaze for just a moment longer, in one final effort to convey her allegiance, before she turned to Mr and Mrs Fabray. "Firstly, I'd like to start off by saying that your daughter is skilled in many areas. She performs well academically, is athletic, and seems to be very capable in social arenas. Gifted – that's how I'd describe Quinn, which is why I was shocked to learn that – on top of that – she also has musical talent."
"Musical talent," Russell repeated, almost scoffing it out.
But Rachel did not falter. She nodded once, and emphatically. "Yes. I teach music theory, as well as the practical side of music. Last week, during one of our more practical lessons, Quinn blew me away with how quickly she was able to grasp the concept of playing the piano."
Judy's chest puffed pridefully, along with her husband's, because being able to brag to people about their piano-playing daughter was something that was bound grant them more prestige amongst peers.
Russell grinned, winking at his daughter. "That's our Quinn."
"What can I say?" Quinn quipped dryly, her face not even beginning to smile.
"Yes… well, not only that, but her involvement with the Cheerio's has shown me that she can also dance," Rachel continued. "I say all of that to say that I think Quinn would be a glorious asset to McKinley High's Glee Club. Now, she already knows this, because I recently asked her if she'd be interested in joining, and my proposal was declined. I would have left it at that, but I sensed that she declined because she was concerned about how you would react to her signing up for yet another extra-curricular activity, and how that might affect her performance elsewhere."
Quinn might have scoffed at the lies that were spewing from Miss Berry's mouth. But, at this point, she was just grateful that the sofa cushions were not flying around the room as a result of her parents attempting to cast the gay demon out of her. So she just sat, and she listened to the gorgeous teacher's lips move, doing everything within her power to keep her sight away from those smooth, tan, bare calves.
"So I just thought that I'd drop by, tell you about how your daughter would benefit from joining Glee Club, and address any concerns that you may have. If you're not happy, or if Quinn still isn't interested, then so be it."
"What are the benefits?" Judy asked, enthusiasm pouring from her.
Quinn found that she was just as curious as her mother, though the snark in her throat did not reflect that: "Yeah, what are the benefits?"
"Well," Rachel began, slipping a sheet of paper from her coat pocket and passing it along to Russell, "as you will see demonstrated in those statistics, students who partake in drama and music-based activities perform considerably better in core subjects. Many parents perceive creative undertakings to be a waste of time, but drama and music-based activities have also been shown to combat the performance stress that comes with exams. Not only that, but colleges look at how well-adjusted and varied applicants are. They're no longer just looking at standard skills. They want a diverse array of students – students who've shown themselves to be capable of working closely with people who come from different backgrounds, which the Glee Club prides itself upon. Having the Glee Club on her college application will look fantastic, especially alongside all of Quinn's other achievements. No college will be able to turn her away."
The mention of college tugged at something within the Cheerio's Captain. All of her life, all she'd ever wanted was to make it out of Lima, Ohio, away from all those that she'd ever known so that she could live her life. The way that she wanted to. No impossible expectations. No Fabray name to uphold. No overly harsh judgements. College, in her mind, had always been her ticket to liberation.
Her spine relaxed somewhat, taking the mold of the plush armchair.
When both Mr and Mrs Fabray had finished looking over the statistical sheet, Russell handed it back to the verbose teacher. "This club's got our seal of approval," he said, smirking smugly as though he was proud that such an opportunity had sought out his offspring.
Judy smiled in concurrence, before looking to her daughter. "Quinn?"
"I'll think about it."
Rachel smiled, nodding in digestion of the verdict. "Very well." She folded the statistical sheet back up, slipped it into her coat pocket, and stood up. "I'll get going so that you may all get on with your evening. Thank you for your time."
"No, no. On behalf of my husband and I, thank you for coming by," Judy chirped. "Quinn, be a doll and see Miss Berry to the door would you?"
Quinn was up and leading the short woman to the door quicker than her father could unmute the TV...
Now stood on her doorstep with Miss Berry, Quinn couldn't help but be greedy. She still had a roof over her head, her parents thought that she was the shit, and she was getting to take in one of the most gorgeous women that she'd ever seen, up-close. Indeed, her eyes were greedy. They snatched at the details of Miss Berry's face – the little things, like the poetic nature of those deep brown bottomless pools.
"I hope that I didn't overstep any boundaries with my visit. You did not seem most impressed when I arrived," Rachel said, sensing that her student had gone somewhere else.
Quinn blinked herself back into the moment, clearing her throat. Only when she trusted her voice did she respond. "Are you kidding me? Such a glowing review should keep the 'rents off of my back for a while, so thanks. But…" She smirked, very subtle. "What if I still don't want to join your club?"
A chuckle fluttered up from Rachel's chest, and Quinn frowned at the sensation in her stomach.
"That's perfectly up to you. I'm not going to force you to join if you don't want to."
When the evening air grew still with their growing silence, Quinn glanced off into the neighbor's well-manicured bushes. She ducked her head slightly, thumbing a few strands of hair behind her ear.
Far from intimidated by the quiet, Rachel took the time to study her. This was the first time that she felt she was really getting to see the girl behind the superiority. The girl behind the Cheerio's uniform. And as suspected, she was just as insecure and fallible as every other teenager in the world. If not more so, given the upbringing that she'd most likely had.
"Can I just say," Rachel began, shattering the silence, "that you should attend a Glee Club gathering at least once. Just to see if you enjoy it, though you inevitably will. They don't call it the Glee Club for nothing." She winked, slipped her hands into her coat pockets, and made like she was getting ready to walk the short distance to her car.
But Quinn wasn't satisfied. "Rachel, why did you do this – show up here like… this?"
Rachel ceased her gate to her vehicle and turned to face the cheerleader once more. Something about the young blonde saying her name implored honesty beyond the formal pretense of student and teacher. Rachel felt it – her duty to be honest.
So she was.
"Because I wanted to give you the option. I wanted to make it so that if you were to join the Glee Club, and your parents were to discover just how colorful some of our members are, they would forgive your fraternizing in favor of knowing that your reasons for participating were purely strategic. I just wanted you to have the option, Quinn. Now you do. Now you can afford to join if you so wish. That's why. And if you do, in fact, decide to join, I think that it may see the two of us begin to establish a relationship to where you feel you can talk to me. About anything." Rachel paused to allow that point exclamation. "Those two things," she then added, holding up two fingers, "were my motivations."
It didn't really hit Quinn – how insincere Puck was all the time – until that moment, because Rachel was what true honestly felt like, and Puck had never so much as come close to resembling it.
She bit her bottom lip, only letting it go to say, "thank you, Rachel."
Twice now, Quinn had called her by name. The music teacher did not know how the girl had come to learn it. But she knew to let the issue rest, for the peace of the moment. "The Glee Club assembles on a Wednesday and a Friday, after school. I take Wednesday's gatherings, and Mr Schuester takes Friday's. If you want to thank me, you should show up sometime. Enjoy your evening."
As Quinn watched the neat little woman enter her car, she couldn't help but feel that she was in all kinds of trouble – that if she hadn't been able to keep her inclinations under control before, then she certainly had no chance now.
So this chapter's even shorter than the last one :( Apologies to Toodoloo especially for that. But I wanted to get something out, before I go away tomorrow. To the guest reviewer who I addressed in the previous chapter, I'll just say that what is basic to some isn't always basic to others, otherwise life would not be filled with so many discrepancies. Though the correction was greatly appreciated, the rudeness was not necessary. That's all.
Lots of love to everyone who commented on the last chapter! Thank you! Most of you want more insight into Rachel. Glad we're on the same page :)
Any thoughts? Drop them in a review :)