NOTE: I made an error in show accuracy that someone pointed out to me. While in the show it said Rachel didn't have a pharyngeal (gag) reflex, we'll just say that it takes more of a push to make her gag. People who make themselves throw up, whether it be from an eating disorder or for whatever reason, do so by forcing a gag reflex and inducing vomiting. So having one naturally and forcing one doesn't necessarily go hand in hand. Either way, there's gagging involved.

Chapter 2: Unexpected Arrivals

The first two weeks of school felt like pure torture. Slushy facials became a frequent event. It wasn't every day, mostly because she avoided most of the jocks like the plague, but at the end of the week she usually brought home at least two or three days' worth of slushy stains. And the name calling was persistent; she even got some new ones to add to the already long list. But she had the best medicine. Rachel could forget about everything when she did it. She'd run at least two miles every day, spend an hour on the elliptical, push herself as hard as she could in each dance class, and even work on the new glee routines over and over until she was too exhausted to even breathe. And even then, she'd try to push herself even more, but it still wasn't enough. Nothing was enough.

Every morning and every night she would weigh herself, noting each and every fluctuation in her mass. In between homework assignments and exercise she'd log every calorie consumed and every calorie expelled. Nothing went undocumented. From her exercise to her food to her thoughts, everything is written down. Journal after journal lay collected like a shrine in memorial of all the bad, and on rare occasion good, things in her life. Whenever she questioned her motives, whenever she asked why she was doing this, she went into that box, the purple box with music notes all around it, and reminded herself exactly why it needed to be done.

Things in her mind were worse than the world portrayed. Even compliments seemed to be laced with venom in her psyche. A simple, "Great work Rachel" or "Wow that note was flawless" didn't seem to mean much anymore. Instead it would mean it had to be better next time. What she heard in her head was completely different from what was said. All she could hear was, "You have to do better Rachel." "What was that Rachel?" "Why are you such a failure Rachel?" Nothing good went on in that over worked space she called a mind.

Then the faithful day came where everything just seemed to be too much. From start to finish, that specific school day sucked more than the days that it followed. She was up one pound when she weighed herself that morning. One pound! She was watching what she ate, exercising every minute she could, she was doing everything right, so how could she have gained weight? It didn't make sense to her. Nothing really did any more. But then she spent so much time worrying about the single pound that she was running late. Then she realized she forgot to do laundry the night before, so instead of her normal, what other people would call eccentric or weird, attire, she had to settle for jeans, a nice shirt, and a hoodie. She felt odd, a little uncomfortable. Her style was her comfort. As weird as it was, it was her. In those clothes she was out of her comfort zone, no security blanket. She was barely able to make it into the building before the warning bell sounded. So suffice to say, the day was off to a rocky start.

There was no time to meet up with any of her "friends" or anything. She just went straight to class. The only good thing about that class was that it was sure to be interesting. Puck transferred into it and with a new teacher, he was sure to cause a scene, maybe harass them a little. But that's not what happened. She and Puck sat in the back of the class, waiting for the new teacher to come. Her tardiness wasn't exactly a good start, but it meant she wouldn't be in trouble for being a whole thirty seconds late either. Then, the new teacher had arrived.

Things went downhill from there. At first, Rachel was too busy journaling, writing down everything that was in her head while avoiding the stares and gawking aimed at her for her new attire, to notice. The distinct clicking of the heels against the linoleum flooring should have tipped her off, but she was too busy to pay it any mind. The second sign of something going down was Puck's unusual silence. The whole room actually became quiet when the clicking stopped. Again, she didn't care enough to even look.

"Rachel." She heard Noah say with some urgency in his voice. "Rachel." This time it was a little louder, and the slight vexation in his voice made it seem like it wasn't the first, or second, time he called her name.

So without even a tiny glance in his direction, or any direction other than down and at her journal, Rachel said, "What is it Noah? Is there something you would like to ask me?" Said in true Berry fashion.

And then she heard it. That voice couldn't be mistaken for any other. "Hello students. My name is Ms. Corcoran. I'm the new English teacher." That's when Rachel finally looked up and acknowledged the world around her. Nothing else would do it, but that did. What was she doing there? Why was she here? Better yet, why'd she have t come back at all? So many questions went through Rachel's mind that it was hard to process everything. She had to wonder, though, whether or not her mother knew she'd be in her class. If she did, that was just cruel. "Ok, so I'm going to do attendance, and then I'll explain some of my rules and expectations." Shelby had yet to see a shocked Rachel, who was easily hidden by the massive jock sitting in front of her.

One by one, the names were called. Shelby decided to go in reverse alphabetical, so Rachel was one of the last to be called. "Brown." She called receiving a "here" in return, and then it was her turn. "Ber-ry." The name didn't come out as flawlessly as the others. Apparently Shelby didn't know her own daughter would be in her class. But when she heard Rachel's quiet voice letting her know that she was indeed present, she had to see her; she needed to see her reaction. Shelby looked around the classroom finally spotting her daughter

Rachel didn't dare look at her. She gave the first glance when the voice was heard, but as soon as the shock wore off, she just went back to her writing. She knew if she tried anything else, she'd probably end up screaming. She didn't want her there. She didn't want to deal with her. She had enough going on in her life without her birth mother, not mom, making a sudden appearance. She needed out of that class and soon. But no one could see her pain. No one could know what she was feeling or the urges she had. She wouldn't allow it. There came the plastered fake smile, only half lit. That was all she could do to mask everything else she was feeling.

In mutual ignorance and avoidance, basically pretending none of it was happening, Shelby went on with her lesson, and Rachel did her best to pay attention. She got the gist of it, behave or else, do your work or else, do what she says or else. But seeing her mom, her Shelby, brought back a lot of feelings she worked so hard to suppress. Every now and then she could feel her eyes burning her, telling her she wasn't her mother, that she'd never be a part of her life. But there she was, in the flesh. The mother she always wanted was there, teaching her class, taunting her, reminding her that she'd never know her and why.

An entire page of her journal was filled in that class. On it was written everything she thought Shelby would agree Rachel was. Rachel is nothing. That was written boldly all over the page along with many other self deprecating phrases… nothing too kind, nothing not fitting, but definitely something not suited for other's eyes. That entire journal was something not fit for human consumption; her eyes only.

When class was over, Rachel was just itching to get out. She could've sworn she heard Shelby call her name, but she didn't want to hear it. Everything was fine. She was fine. She really wasn't, but she really tried to convince herself and everyone else that she was. So she did the only thing she could, ignore it and go on about her day like nothing ever happened.

Throughout the day, things pretty much stayed the same. People commented on her wardrobe, and while most of them were backhanded comments like Santana's "Wow Man Hands, you're not dressed like an overgrown child," there was also the lack of comment from the idiots that normally tormented her with slushies and slurs. Maybe they didn't recognize her. Maybe she'd have to dress like that more often.

She was also trying to avoid Puck all day. Apparently, he wanted to talk about Shelby's return. It was hard on him too, seeing that she was raising his daughter; Rachel's perfect little replacement. Rachel couldn't help but resent that little girl. She was jealous of Beth, and it made her hate herself more. Needless to say, she was ignoring Noah. She didn't want to deal with that, no matter how pure his intentions were. He just wanted to make sure she was okay, and she was being a complete bitch. That was just another reason why Rachel Berry was unworthy of anything good.

Lunch rolled around and she just wasn't in the mood to see all her glee mates. She decided to skip it. Food was definitely something she should avoid, so instead of the cafeteria, she headed to the auditorium. That seemed to be her go to place for solace. She felt safe there. But as she sat there at the piano, just staring at the keys, she couldn't bring herself to care. She couldn't play, she couldn't sing, she could only think. And thinking never led anywhere good.

The entire lunch period was spent in silence, no talking, no moving, definitely no eating. It was absolutely not productive, but the catatonia came with a numbness that pushed all bad and good thoughts alike out of her mind. It was a nice change. But it was short lived. Before she knew it, the bell was ringing and it was time for class. Back to the real world full of hate and pain. How exciting?

The rest of the day was spent fielding questions about Shelby from Kurt and a few other glee kids that cared enough to speak with her. She basically told them everything was fine and they'd talk later in glee, another thing she wasn't looking forward to that day. When she wasn't bombarded with questions, she went out of her way to avoid anywhere she thought Shelby might be. She was in the English wing, so instead of going through that hall to get to her locker, she went all the way around school and circled back. It was a hassle, but the extra distance made her have to walk faster to get to class on time, and thus, she burned more calories. At least there was an upside.

In her last class of the day, she received another blow. Science papers were being passed back. It was the first formal assignment of the year, and Rachel worked on it for hours, days even. She wanted t to be perfect and she actually thought she'd do really well. And by most standards, she did do well. But when the teacher passed her the paper and she saw the big red B- on the top right hand corner of the page, she wanted to cry. Rachel didn't get Bs let alone B-s. How much more of a failure could she be? The school day just sucked, but she only had to get through glee and she'd be home.

When glee finally came around, she wasn't excited. There was no rush to get to the glee room. Mr. Schuester probably wasn't even there yet, so she'd take her time. If she didn't think it would raise so many questions and lead to some unwanted home visitors, Rachel would've skipped glee. But as it stood, skipping would raise some suspicion and she wanted to give off the vibe of perfection. Everything in her world was pure perfection… on the outside. But when she followed Mr. Schue into the room, everyone fell silent and stared.

The silence was short lived, however. Questions were spewed from every single mouth in the room. The commotion made it almost impossible to understand anyone. It was all just a jumbled mess… kind of like her mind. It was one big mess.

"Did you know she was coming here Man Hands?" Santa yelled louder than the other chatter so Rachel could hear.

"Why didn't you warn us?"

"I don't want her here." Quinn stated. She had just as good a reason to want Shelby out as Rachel did.

"Who are you all talking about?" Brittany asked with her childlike innocence shining through. She really was oblivious sometimes. Everyone looked at her like she was crazy for not knowing what was going on, and she just returned the look waiting for someone to answer. Finally Santana did.

"We're talking about Ms. Corcoran B. You know? Rachel's mom."

"She's not my mom." Rachel snapped bringing all the attention back to her. It was a rash move she instantly regretted. Mr. Schue could see that, whether or not she admitted it, Shelby's presence was causing problems for Rachel. He could also see how uncomfortable she became when everyone expected all these answers and it seemed like everyone was waiting for her to fall apart. Rachel refused to give them that. She was strong. Breaking down was weak.

Mr. Schue put an end to everyone's conversation. "That's enough." He said and Rachel took it as an opportunity to take a seat, a secluded seat at the left corner of the last row. Then Will turned to Rachel, and without accusation simply asked, "Rachel, did you know Ms. Corcoran was coming?"

"No." That was the only answer she could give. What more did they want from her? "I was just as surprised as everyone else."

"Are you okay with your mother…" He immediately took that back. He didn't want her to snap again. "Are you ok with her being here?"

"It's her life; she gets to live it wherever and however she wants. I'm not a part of that life and that's her loss." Her words seemed strong and confident, but she wanted nothing more than to break down. She just wanted to run home, binge on anything and everything, and then purge it all away like she was instantly releasing all her problems. If only it was that easy.

"Ok then." Mr. Schue addressed the class. "Now that we asked Rachel all that we needed to know, can we get to this week's assignment?"

At some point, Will actually gave an assignment and the Shelby talk started up again, but Rachel just tried to remain indifferent. She was just counting down the minutes, watching the clock until it was time to go home. And when that faithful moment came, she was out of there so fast, people barely noticed her leave. Then again, people barely noticed her unless it was torment Rachel time.

Forgoing a ride, Rachel decided to walk. The exercise would help clear her mind. As soon as she got home, she did exactly what she wanted to do in glee. She dropped her bag by the door, ran to the kitchen and stuffed her face with her problems. Once nothing else could be eaten and her jaw was too tired to chew, she ran to the bathroom. Nothing could be absorbed. And like she wished she could do with her other problems, she expelled every last morsel from her body and went straight to the elliptical. She'd need a long work out to make up for that. She needed it because she needed to feel the pain of her muscles aching. She deserved the pain.

"Tomorrow," she thought while in her second hour on the machine. "Tomorrow will be better." And tomorrow, she had decided, she'd try to change her schedule. She didn't want to be in Shelby's class anymore than Shelby wanted her in it. Tomorrow she'd fix one of her problems.

At the end of the night, her dads were away. Away like they were always away, leaving her free to do her nightly ritual. She'd journal for an hour in her room, do her homework in the study, and then do her nightly weigh in. She wasn't happy about the numbers, and that'd just make her work harder in the morning.

Hope you all enjoy the chapter; let me know what you think. People showed some interest so it looks like I'll continue writing. Also, sorry if there are any mistakes.

Thanks everyone who reviewed, favorite and added this story to their alerts. It's much appreciated. And remember suggestions and input are always welcome.