READ: This chapter comes with a bit of a trigger warning. There will be blood. I know how easy it is to be triggered by reading something that hits close to home. I debated bringing in certain things to this story because of my own experiences, but ultimately I decided to go for it. If you struggle and find yourself easily triggered, maybe this chapter isn't for you or at least not the last third of it. And, at the risk of sounding like a PSA, if you or someone you know is dealing with an eating disorder or self harm, find help. It's not easy, but it gets better.
Chapter 19: Shopping Excursions
The weekend couldn't come quick enough for Rachel. She'd managed to both avoid all her friends and socialize with them all enough to throw suspicion out of the window. Kurt seemed a little clingier after the incident in the mall and he hardly left her side when she was around him. She knew when it happened that it shouldn't have happened as obviously as it did. But Rachel was being more careful. She only ate what she knew she'd be able to burn it off fairly quickly and she used the napkin trick for the rest. She only ate a "regular" meal when she knew she'd have some unaccompanied bathroom time afterward. She was the picture of perfection as far as everyone was concerned. No one would be the wiser. But she still felt Santana eyeing her. And for the life of her, she couldn't understand why. Santana never liked her and she'd yet to use it against her. What was she waiting for? Would it be one of those covert attempts of humiliation that will pop up when her guard is down and she least expects it? She really didn't want to find out. She just hoped that everything she was doing was working and Santana would think it was a onetime thing and forget all about it. It was unlikely, but plausible.
Santana wasn't buying it though. She could see that others were. Kurt explained to her his concerns after the mall. "She just ran from the table after acting like a slob." He told her. "People came out saying someone was throwing up." He still didn't quite believe it was Rachel and she didn't want to tell him what she thought. He wanted to believe it was all better, that she only did it a few times and now she was back to normal. Santana didn't know how to convince him otherwise. And did she really want to? A part of her, too, wanted to fall for the bull that Rachel was pushing on people. And if she didn't know better, she would.
Mercedes definitely fell for it though. Santana could clearly see that. After just a few days of worrying and watching and trying to figure it out, she did, and then she forgot it. Rachel couldn't be that good. Could she? How could anyone not see through the veil? Rachel had a problem. The only thing Santana didn't know was how deep into the problem Rachel was. Could she help her? Could anyone? Did she even want help? From what Santana could tell, Rachel didn't want help; she couldn't even see there was a problem. So how could Santana get others to see that there was, and, more importantly, how did she help someone who looked at her as a tormentor?
Santana had a way with words. There was definitely a comeback for anything. And if that didn't resolve things, her fists always finished the job. But neither of those tactics would help Rachel. She couldn't exactly beat Rachel into submission, and telling her off wouldn't exactly yield great results. Obviously, their friends were of no help. Puck was so lost every time he was around her half thinking about jumping her bones and the other half wondering why he wanted to. So he was no help. Mercedes had her head so far up her own "talent," that Rachel's, while she tried to hide it and cover it up with that creepy ass show face, less than enthusiastic participation and willingness to "give the other voices a chance to shine" actually worked in her favor and made it so she couldn't care less about how she got the chance. Kurt was so in denial that he actually believed Santana, of all people, was exaggerating the concern and fear for Rachel's well being. As for the rest of glee club, most of them didn't know. Quinn might've and probably did put the pieces together, but Quinn, while Santana's friend, was still a bitch. She started the rumors without giving it a second thought. Rachel wouldn't be very receptive to her help. There was Brittany though, and Santana knew just how to use that to her advantage… again. She had a new plan, one that wouldn't require much and she had all weekend to work on it. And as Santana did that, Rachel was preparing for a possibly excruciating car ride with Shelby.
The drive to La Ballerine was long and quiet. Shelby decided not to take Beth with them. It was mother daughter time, just her and Rachel. She'd hoped that the time alone, even if simply shopping, would give them more common ground. Singing and dancing were two things they shared. If those things couldn't bring them together, nothing could. Well, maybe not nothing, but she was hoping it would help. They've been doing better, that was a positive, but they could've been doing better than that. Rachel was still distant with her and really only spent time with Beth. Their personal encounters still seemed a little forced and rehearsed. Shelby longed for things to be perfect and uncomplicated. She wanted nothing more than for Rachel to accept her place in her life, maybe even call her mom one day. She wouldn't rush that though. That would be asking for trouble and they've had enough of that. Why invite more?
"What exactly do you need to get today?" Shelby, being the more mature, adult in their relationship, decided to ease the tension and break the ice. "You said something about tights and leotards."
"I need several pairs of white tights. They're required and my last pair is no longer a viable option."Again, she left out the not fitting part. That wasn't any of Shelby's business. "Should I earn a prominent role in the recital, I'll need a new pair of pink slippers, but that can wait until the next trip. I have to make it first."
"I'm sure you'll get a great role." She wanted to offer more reassurance, but she didn't know what would build her confidence. "Is there anything else?"
"Elaina, she's one of the shop owners, said she'd fit me for some custom leotards if we have the time." Rachel looked to her with question.
"We have time. That's why I left Beth with a sitter, so we could have all the time you need."
"Ok." That was all she could manage to say. She didn't know what else there was to say. And so the rest of the ride was met with another silence.
Arriving, Rachel felt a little uncomfortable. She didn't think inviting Shelby with her through. The people there knew her. They knew her fathers. They didn't know Shelby. There'd be questions she wouldn't want to answer and maybe talks and topics she wouldn't want Shelby around to overhear. No, she didn't think it through. In a moment of childhood fancy, she was about to give Shelby insight into things she never wanted her to see. She didn't want Shelby to know anything about her fathers' slight neglect. She wouldn't allow her to taint the good memories with thoughts of how she would've done better. Shelby would've done worse. It was necessary to believe that, not only to honor their memory, but to not revert to complete and utter contempt for Shelby for walking out on her. She had to believe that her fathers did a better job loving and caring for her than Shelby ever could.
She didn't want to think about that. All she wanted was to get in and get out without any talks of old times and memories and Shelby learning anything about the old Rachel and her life with her fathers that she didn't want her to know. Shelby didn't hold the right to an opinion and Rachel knew she'd have one. As they pulled into the familiar lot, the anxiety didn't seem to quell. They got out of the car and headed toward the shop. She'd give anything to find the nearest bathroom, but she could feel Shelby's eyes all over her and just couldn't risk it.
The ding of the bell above the door sounded in the entire shop and all eyes were on them. Recognition came immediately. "Rachel? Rachel sweetie is that you?"
Plastering that smile on her face, Rachel rushed over to the older woman. "Annette, it has been so long." Annette, the older co-owner of the shop, and Elaina's mother, engulfed Rachel into a long awaited hug.
"You're all skin and bones. What have you been up to? Where have you been?"
"I've been busy."
"Well you're here now." Shelby watched and listened as the woman pulled her daughter away from the entrance and deeper into the store. This woman, Annette, and probably Elaina too, seemed to be on better terms with her daughter than she was. Yes, things have been getting better, but she still couldn't freely hug her or talk to her openly about anything like they seemed to. She was jealous of people she never even met before. Noticing that they were already on the other side of the store, Shelby slowly made her way to catch up to them making sure to eavesdrop as much as possible.
"So who is that woman you came in with?"
"Oh, that's… That's Shelby."
"Mother Shelby?" Elaina was quick to put the pieces together and even quicker to question once she did.
"Yes, my mother Shelby?"
"What about your fathers? Off on another business trip or just too busy to be with their daughter this time?" Rachel's whole demeanor changed. Her shoulders slumped and she looked to the floor. She didn't want to talk about them. Luckily, Shelby wasn't around to hear it, or so she thought.
"Come on Rachel. You can't blame us for asking. They stopped showing up years ago and you always gave the same excuse. They were away on a trip. But that seemed a little excessive since you used to come for frequent visits."
"There was an accident." The two were speechless, watching with mouths agape. "They didn't make it." Rachel said quietly. She just wanted to get it over with and move on. She may have cried and wrote about it, but she really hadn't dealt with it.
"I'm so sorry."
"Me too." And they both wrapped their arms around her for a group hug. She didn't reciprocate, not because she didn't care about them, but because she just couldn't. Her arms stayed glued to her side.
"It's ok. I'm dealing with it. It happened some time ago." She said as she gently pushed them away.
"Is that why you haven't been by in a while?"
"I was… adjusting, getting used to my new life."
"We know sweetie. We understand, and we're here for you."
"I know, thank you."
"So you're staying with your mother now?" She shook her head. "How's that going?"
"It's fine." Elaina and Annette exchanged a look. The last time Rachel was that quiet was the first time she showed up alone after Hiram and Leroy were away for over a month and she didn't know what to do. She didn't want to tell them that she was alone, but they asked how she got there and when she told them she took a cab they asked a ton of questions.
"Ok Rachel, let's start getting you fitted." As they started to walk away, Shelby approached Annette to introduce herself.
"Hi, I'm Shelby."
"I know who you are dear."
"You do?"
"Rachel talked about you a few times. I'm Annette, but call me Ann. Rachel's the only person to use my given name." That sounded like Rachel.
"I couldn't help but overhear you talking about her fathers. What happened? Did they just stop coming?"
"Business trips and vacation were the oxygen to their lungs. They couldn't live without them. They used to bring her around every few weeks and then they just stopped coming. One day she showed up alone and told us she took a cab."
"What happened?"
"The rest you'll have to talk to Rachel about." Rachel told her that her fathers were great and attentive. Shelby believed that or maybe she forced herself to because there were no acceptable alternatives. It made her think what else Rachel hadn't told her. What else was Rachel keeping hidden?
"Ok. Where do you keep the tights?"
"Back wall. It's hard to miss. She likes the brand with the blue wrapper and a picture of Pointe shoes on the front. Her size should be the first or second rack of those." Shelby was a little shell shocked and became even more jealous. Ann knew her daughter's favorite brands and sizes. She probably knew her favorite foods and colors and all the other things she herself should know.
"Thank you." She replied and made her way to the back of the store. Meanwhile, Rachel was in the middle of her fitting.
"You're so tiny Rachel." That wasn't the first lie she was told that day and she was sure it wasn't going to be the last.
"I've always been tiny." It was a justification that she knew wouldn't fly, but she went for it anyway.
"Not this tiny. The last time your measurements were this small, you were just a kid."
"Well, I haven't been eating as much as usual since they died, but I'm doing better now. I'm sure you'll see me in here in a few months begging for bigger leos."
"Let's hope so because this isn't healthy." Neither of the older women was convinced by Rachel's excuse. She was continually getting smaller and smaller over the past few fittings. Only that time was the biggest change. The last fitting wasn't that long ago but the change in numbers was drastic.
"Don't worry about me. I'm perfectly fine." Their concern only grew as the conversation went on. Normally Rachel would be talking their ears off, dominating the conversation with new details about her life, her singing, and her dancing. But that wasn't the case. They had to carry the conversation and ask all the questions just to get her to say a few words. That was more than enough for them to worry.
"Ok Rach, we're all done."
"Thank you."
"It's no problem sweetie. You know you're our favorite customer. Why don't you go get the rest of the things you need and I'll go bring this in the back so we can get on it as soon as you're gone?"
"Ok." Rachel took off towards where Shelby was as they watched. They may not see her all the time or know every detail about her, but they could see that something wasn't quite right. The smile she wore was nothing more than a mask and that was troubling. They've seen it in other dancers and didn't want to see it in her. They cared about that girl and didn't want to see her clearly suffering. But it got them wondering. Did no one else in her life see it?
"These are the ones you like right?" Shelby startled her.
"Uh…" She looked at them hesitating for a moment. They were the right ones, but the wrong size. Those were the same ones she had in her locker; the same ones that no longer fit. "Yeah. How did you know?"
"I'm your mother. I know things."
"Sure." She said knowing that wasn't at all the truth. Annette must've told her while she was with Elaina. That was the only thing that made sense. "Can you find the hair ribbons for me? I'm going to peruse around a little." Hair ribbons were a safe choice. No one cold mess up the sizes for those.
"Of course." As soon as Shelby was far enough down the aisle, Rachel hurried back to the tights. She needed to switch them out without being obvious about it. Distracting people with other tasks seemed to work in the past. It would work that time too. But getting rid of Shelby wasn't the only problem. Her normal tights were the smallest adult size. Children's sizes posed some problems too. The lengths would be too short, so she'd have to go with long. The only problem with that was that the package was different. It was only a little different, so she hoped no one would notice, but there was always that possibility and that left her unsettled.
She did it anyway. And the four women spent a good hour catching up before Rachel finished her shopping and went to check out. Shelby didn't notice the switch, but why would she? She wouldn't pay attention to the little things. Elaina was helping another customer, and for once, Rachel was happy that she wasn't talking with her. Usually she enjoyed their visits, but this time it was both refreshing and demanding. Fooling them, people who knew about her dads and her outside of school, was physically demanding. But it was still good talking to them and seeing them again.
"Rachel, these aren't the right ones." Of course Annette, the oldest of them all with the worst eyesight, would catch the difference.
"Yes they are." She said quickly. She needed her to drop it. She didn't need Shelby asking any questions, like why she was buying tights made for a tall ten year old.
Annette eyed her curiously, but, to Rachel's great relief, let it go. She could spot Rachel's nervous glances around them and could sense how uncomfortable she was. She also knew that if something was wrong, she'd see her in a few weeks so they could talk about it then. She'd reevaluate the entire situation then. "Maybe I'm wrong." She said bringing closure to the conversation. Annette finished ringing them up and Rachel paid. And after a few minutes of goodbyes, Rachel told them she'd see them soon and then she and Shelby were on their way out. She rushed them to the car so there was no chance they could say any more to Shelby.
For the most part, the ride was quiet. But Rachel could feel the clockwork glances coming her way every few minutes. Every free chance, Shelby would look at Rachel like she was waiting with bated breath. Rachel didn't like it one bit. And quite frankly, it was irritating her.
"Is there something on your mind?" The question came out more abrasive than she meant. But it couldn't be helped. She was anxious and frustrated. Her usual headache had taken root and it brought along some friends. Her hand was still hurting and she felt a little off balance. And to top it off, the frequent staring and mind game thing Shelby had going was really just pushing her to her limits. Her mood swings from lack of food were in full force and it was easy to tick her off.
"Why do you ask that?"
"Because you keep staring at me." She snapped. Her tone was loud and sharp.
"Don't yell at me."
"Then stop staring at me! It's annoying."
"We were having a good day. What's with the attitude?" She was doing her best to remain calm, but Rachel was running out of free passes and sooner or later she'd have to put her foot down.
"I don't have an attitude. You're the one that's causing problems."
"And how am I doing that Rachel?"
"By being you!"
"What does that mean? What happened? We were getting along so well over the past few weeks, what happened to change that?"
"I shouldn't have asked you to come." She wasn't really talking to her mother when she said that.
"Why not? What did I do?"
"Everything… Nothing…" In some ways that was true. Shelby did nothing wrong. But at the same time, everything was wrong and she hadn't done anything right either. Whether it was true or not, all Rachel could see was that all roads lead to Shelby.
"So why are you so angry?"
"I don't know."
"Can you stop yelling?"
"Can you stop talking?"
"No." She was firm. "You're going to stop talking and calm down."
"Fine." She huffed. Her head was spinning. She had no idea what was going on. All her hard work was coming undone. And why? Because of what? She didn't even know. It was ridiculous and she was fuming. She was an idiot. That was the only answer.
Shelby gave her a good silent five minutes with no looking to compose herself. "Are you calm now?"
"I'm fine." She was emotionless. Her voice was empty. The only thing that made her happy was that they were only five minutes away from the house.
"Good. Do you want to tell me what that was about?"
"You were staring and it was getting on my nerves."
"I don't think that's what's bothering you."
"Oh and you know what is?" Right, because Shelby knew all about Rachel.
"They brought up your dads."
"So?" She snapped again, only there wasn't yelling. She was more resigned. "What's your point?"
"Have you really dealt with their deaths?"
"I did. I'm over it. I'm good and I'm moving on."
"I think you have some unresolved issues."
"And you're going to tell me what those are?"
"Rachel…" The name was said as motherly as possible. "I don't think you've ever dealt with the neglect."
"Don't talk about them like that." They were on fragile ground.
"They should've been, but they weren't there for you."
"And you were? You don't know them. You don't know me. You don't get to judge. I loved my fathers and they loved me!"
"I know they did. But they left you alone to fend for yourself. That's neglect and now that they're gone, you can't confront them about it. You can't ask why."
"What do you know? You weren't there." Her outbursts were reaching their peak as Shelby pulled into the driveway.
"No. I wasn't there. But they should have been. They should've been there for you instead of away on trips all the time."
"You weren't there for me either. But you don't consider yourself neglectful do you? No, you just didn't care enough to look after me. You had Beth. Who cared about Rachel?"
"That's not true at all. I lo…" She cut her off. That was one lie she wouldn't tolerate.
"No, it is true. You never cared. So don't talk about my dads like you're better than them. Because you're not. You're worse. You walked away. They may not have been there all the time, but they stayed. You walked away!" With that, she got out of the car before it came to a stop and slammed the door as hard as she could. Luckily the front door was open and she ran straight for her room. She could hear Shelby calling after her and Beth's crying from the commotion, but she didn't care.
As soon as she was alone, barricaded in her room, she locked the door and cried. Shelby tried to come in and knocked when she couldn't. She told Rachel to open up and kept trying for a good ten minutes before saying that it wasn't over and they were going to be talking about it. She cried so hard for so long that she didn't even have to force herself to throw up the nothing she ate that day. It came naturally and she was thankful it did. It saved her time and energy.
It took a long time for her to compose herself again. She needed something to take her mind off of everything again. She needed to escape her mind. So she thought of her best distraction. Pulling out her phone, which she was surprised Shelby hadn't demanded she let her have for the time being, she sent out a text. I hear you can do amazing things with your hands. She never thought she'd be sending those words to Puck, or anyone, or that she'd have any sort of conversation about the topic with him. But things change. People change. She had.
You hear right. His response was quick, barely any wait at all.
Want to prove it? She was hoping her texts didn't sound as awkward and forced as they did in her own head.
Where you at?
My room…
Shelby there? Where else would the wicked witch of Lima be?
Yes.
Is she going to let me in?
No, but that's what your juvenile delinquent skills are good for. Use the tree by my bedroom. Window's open. It seemed like a safe route. She tried it once when she wanted to go for a walk in the middle of the night. That way there was less chance of disturbing Shelby and awaking the beast.
15 minutes?
Works for me…Quiet though. Do not disturb mommy dearest.
Got it. Be there soon.
Right on time, fifteen minutes later Puck was crawling through her bedroom window. She walked out of the bathroom once she heard the commotion. He knocked over some of the things that were placed within the two foot radius of the window.
"Be quiet Noah. We don't want her to come in and find you."
"You didn't lock the door?"
"Of course I did."
"So what's the problem?" He asked as he approached her. She was sitting on the edge of her bed wearing one of her old skirts that he loved so much.
"There is none I guess."
"Good." His voice was low and quiet and her entire body tingled from the heat of his breath by her ear. Rachel looked into his eyes. She needed him and a part of him needed her too. He gently stood and pushed her down. "Why am I here Rachel?" He asked as his body pressed against hers, slightly hovering over her on the bed. He moved closer to her, leaning into her and kissing her neck.
"You have this way of making me feel better." She responded shyly. "No matter what's going on, you can make me feel better and forget about what was wrong in the first place."
"Yeah, well, I got a way of doing that for all the girls."
"I'm serious Noah." She chided.
He kissed her deeply, passionately, different from the other times, and then broke away for just a second. "I know." His manly hand gently caressed her leg, climbing slowly to her core, inching under her skirt. As soon as she was ready, his fingers were deep inside of her thrusting and working their magic. She let out a low moan as a knock came from her door.
"Rachel are you ok? I heard something fall." Of course Shelby would pick the most inopportune time to check on her. Puck, still going, looked up to her for a reaction.
"Do you want me to stop?" His voice was little more than a far away whisper.
"Na…no." She panted out. "Eh… Everything's fuh, fine Shelby." That was all she could manage with Noah doing his thing knuckle deep inside of her.
"So nothing's wrong? You sound out of breath."
"No-ah." It sounded close enough to no uh and it was coherent enough to get the point across, but the slight whimper like moan she released as he brought her closer to the brink was a little suspicious.
"I'm coming in." She heard the door knob turn and the handle jiggle. "Rachel, why is the door locked?"
"I forgot…" She had to take deep breaths in between every few syllables. "Forgot to unlock it… af-after changing…"
"Come unlock it now so we can talk."
"Talk later. On the elliptical. Missed my morning run." She couldn't speak in full coherent sentences. That was the best she could do, and lying was fine. She went for a run in the middle of the night because she couldn't sleep and she most definitely wasn't on the elliptical.
"Finish up and be down for dinner in an hour. We'll be talking then."
"Oh…" She mumbled too quiet for Shelby to hear. "Yes!" It was the most vocal she'd ever been with Noah, but oh god did she feel good. It was an added bonus that the words seemed to fit both situations. And the smirk on Puck's face was worth it too. He smiled greedily soaking in the sight of the fast rise and fall of her chest as she panted.
"What do you think of my hands now?"
"I think they're my new favorite toy."
"Oh yeah?" He asked as he started kissing his way up her body.
"Yeah."
"What about my toy?"
"I like that too."
"Prove it."
"I'd love too." Even with Shelby just down stairs, they couldn't stop. Rachel couldn't get enough of Puck. And he liked that. He liked that she seemed to need him and he liked what he did to her every time they were together. He actually just liked her. But he wasn't going to admit that. Rachel made it clear that they were friends and he wasn't going to mess that up. She was his Jew screw, his bed buddy. That's all.
They made the most of the hour they had. Puck teased her a little bit. She teased him back. Then they worked up enough sweat to prove she got the workout she told Shelby she had. For Puck it was about the sex. It was about the high of that mixed with the pleasure of Rachel. But for her it was more than that. The sex was great, but she couldn't let it have meaning. Then it wouldn't be just sex. To her it was more about what he said to her. He always said nice things. He called her beautiful, told her she had an amazing body, and the crazy part was that she almost believed what he was saying. So yes, while he was the equivalent of ecstasy and euphoria, his words were just as great. And she needed that.
Lying side by side on her bed, Rachel turned her head to look at Puck. "I should get dressed and go done before Shelby comes looking for me."
"You probably should, and I should probably get going."
"Are you hungry? I'm sure you worked up an appetite after that."
"What are you going to do? Bring me downstairs as a dinner guest?"
"No. I'm going to convince her to let me eat in my room and bring up seconds."
"Sure. I'll stay." Rachel did what she said. She went into the kitchen as Shelby was about to go and find her. It was tense, but then she pulled out some of her best acting skills and, after a few minutes of arguing and a rather compelling apology for her earlier tantrum, she convinced Shelby to allow her to eat in her room. It wasn't as hard as she thought it would be. They were both pretty annoyed with each other still. And Rachel knew how to play on that. Shelby wasn't used to dealing with her own moody teenager, so she gave in and let Rachel eat in her room, and she even got away without having that big talk.
Rachel didn't eat though. She brought her food to Puck telling him she ate superfast with Shelby downstairs. It was believable. They were "discussing' things for at least ten minutes. The arrangement worked in her favor. She got away from Shelby, got Puck to eat her food, and didn't have to worry about how fast she could get away and to the bathroom. It was a weird day, but at least a few things worked out for her. So after saying goodbye to Puck and taking a much needed shower, she ended the night on a fairly high note. At least it was on a higher note than she ended a day in over the past few weeks, months even.
She would stay as happy as she could be given the state of her life for the next few days. Over those days, Santana was getting together the final details on her plan to scare Rachel straight and bring her back to the land of the normal. It was a last ditch effort to get Rachel to stop what she was doing as passively as possible. If she had to take it further she would. But a more aggressive plan of attack might make things worse. She was a little conflicted, but she'd worry about that if, and only if, her plan didn't work out. She hoped it did because she wasn't liking the whole being involved thing. She much rather make fun of people than try to help them.
Come the end of the week and Santana was ready. She did enough research on eating disorders and the effects it could have on people's health. She learned enough to scare even herself. Some of the people who suffered from the disorder were so deep into it that they weighed their body's output and stored their vomit in bags hidden away like the dirty little secrets they were. She found herself praying that that wasn't Rachel. And if it was, a part of her didn't want to know. It still bothered her that she cared in the first place, but she was in it and she couldn't just stop. So she was going to try it and if she didn't stop, she was going to have to go to more drastic members. She might even have to get an adult involved. That was a conversation she really didn't want to have.
When it came time for glee, Santana was a little nervous. This was her last chance to get to Rachel before winter break. Luckily, when she arrived with Brittany, only Rachel and Quinn were in there with her. It wasn't a big plan. She was just going to use some of her new found knowledge to get to Rachel. She was simply going to have a chat with Brittany that included some of the scarier facts and was going to talk a little pointedly and loud enough for Rachel to hear. Nothing major was going down. She was just going to say the things she knew would scare her most. That was all.
Rachel had a nagging feeling about Santana all day. She knew something was coming. Her stares have toned done and her stalking was less frequent. It felt eerily like the calm before the storm. So she was just waiting for the lightning to strike and the thunder to rumble. That was what tended to happen when things were going ok in her life. They could never be great, but ok was all she could hope for. She got her act together again and even managed to get out of the big talk with Shelby. She told her that she didn't mean what she said, that she was angry and was taking everything out on her. Shelby obviously bought it and accepted it. There was even a smile and a hug, which made her even happier. It was the first hug she got that wasn't brought on by bereavement or some sort of disaster. As much as it pained her to play the loving and forgiving daughter to her child abandoning mother, it worked in her favor. She even got her way when it came to the holidays. Shelby wanted to make them special for Rachel, but she didn't want that at all. Somehow, she convinced her to take Beth to her family's for the day so she could have some alone time and remember the good holiday memories with her dads. She knew Shelby didn't get along well with her family, but she knew holidays usually made things better and she was right. Shelby wanted her to go too, but she convinced her that she just wasn't ready. She wasn't sure she'd ever be because that would mean truly accepting Shelby.
On top of that amazing feat, she was finally landing all her dance moves and knew the routine needed for auditions. Her routine was back in full gear. She could go to her favorite bathroom in school without the usual followers. The nightly weigh ins showed more progress toward her goal. And thus far, the rituals had been uninterrupted. It was an ok week. Nothing was great. Nothing was ever great, but things were ok. That's how she knew something was coming. And that thought was reinforced when she saw Santana walk into the room. Her eyes spoke volumes. They told Rachel that she had something up her sleeve.
"Hey B, remind me to turn my paper in by the end of the day. It needs to be handed in before we leave for break." Santana asked Brittany as they took the seats in the center of the row in front of Rachel and Quinn's.
"What's it about?" Santana knew that Brittany would ask that question. She didn't even have to fill her in on the plan to know it would go off without a hitch… hopefully.
"We had to do research on eating disorders for health class."
"I thought you took health last year." Quinn spoke out of turn. Santana glared at her, urging her to shut it before she zipped it for her.
"Well I failed so I took it over." She passed it the year before, barely, but she still passed. But that was all beside the point. Once she was satisfied the Quinn would keep to herself, Santana continued. "Do you want to know what I learned?"
"You actually learned something San?" Rachel was slightly annoyed by the conversation. They didn't have to talk so loud abut a topic not everyone wanted to discuss.
"It can give you heart problems." Quinn just watched this conversation wondering what was going on. She knew that Santana was acting all weird about Rachel. And she knew that Santana wasn't in any health class. It was also obvious that she was putting on a show for Rachel. But it couldn't be for that… It couldn't be what she thought. So Rachel has been weird and losing weight. That didn't mean she had an eating disorder. Right? She did catch her getting all sick and what not in the bathroom though. And then she spread all those rumors. Everything was starting to make sense to Quinn and it bothered her. What did she do?
"It can make you mean?"
"No it can make you sick and hurt your heart."
"What else?
"I looked it up and read that all the throwing up can damage the esophagus."
"Where's that?"
"Here Brits." Santana showed her by pointing on her body.
"It can get so bad that it makes it difficult to even talk. It could permanently ruin a singing voice." Rachel's hand instinctively wrapped around her throat. "It can even…" Rachel spaced out after that. She didn't hear anything else that was said. For the rest of the day she was nothing more than a zombie going through the motions. Everything that happened from that point to that night was just blank space.
The next thing she vividly remembered was after dinner. She finished and rushed up to her room. There was pacing to and from the bathroom door. Then there was long hard thinking while she rocked herself on her bed. There was really a lot of confusion and jumbled thoughts. Certain phrases from taunts and insults, to Quinn's words from their fight, to Santana's words that day all ran through her mind.
"It can get so bad that it makes it difficult to even talk. It could permanently ruin a singing voice." It could hurt her voice… But she had to do it. But she couldn't. But she had to. But she shouldn't. But she had to. But she wouldn't. But she had to. She had to. She understood what it meant, but she couldn't help it. The need, the pull, the drive, the polarizing magnetism of the calling, whatever it was, was just too strong. She no longer had control. Nothing would happen to her voice, she assured herself of that before running into the bathroom and doing the one thing she knew she shouldn't have. But she had to.
And then, for the first time ever, she felt worse. It wasn't enough anymore. She still got the high, but the anxiety was still there; mostly because she waited too long. And that made her feel terrible. Santana's voice was still there and it was clouding what should have been a huge rush. All she could think about was the possible damage to her vocal cords and how that could've been the last straw. And then she felt stupid for thinking that. It wasn't going to happen. So she just started pacing like she had before. She walked back and forth in her bathroom. The anxiety was about more than that. She took her sweet time debating whether or not to do the right thing. And while she made the right choice, she wasted precious time and allowed the food to settle first. She felt disgusting again, a little terrified too. What was wrong with her?
But then a thought came into her head. The thoughts had been lingering in her mind since that incident with Beth and the glass. She found herself sitting on the edge of the bathtub, her left index finger running over the scabbing cut on her hand. She remembered how that made her feel, how even though it was an accident, it felt right. The way the glass took away all the pain she was feeling by simply creating a diversion. But it mesmerized her. And when she gripped it tighter, pushed it in deeper, it felt even better. She needed that feeling again, especially since her high was tainted by the heinous thoughts Santana so clearly planted in her mind.
Without thinking, she grabbed the first sharp object she could find. In her hand she held the opened scissors and stared at the cool steel blades. Then, without giving it a second thought, she slid the blade across her right thigh instantly feeling its affects. Once again she just found herself watching the blood seep from her open wounds. The parted flesh welled with red tears before oozing and dripping down her leg. Her once tanned limbs now painted a rich cherry, a contrast to her new pallor. It was beautiful in its own way. Peaceful too. The sense of serenity and composure that came from it was such an unexpected reaction to get from a potentially gruesome act. The essence of it all wasn't about someone purposely hurting herself or trying to kill herself, it wasn't even a real cry for help; it was purely about Rachel dealing with and getting relief from everything and nothing at the same time any way she could. It was the only way to find the strength and inner peace to win the war between her conflicting thoughts and feelings that was raging within her body.
"Rachel?" The silent reverie was broken by Shelby's knocking on the bathroom door. She was in too much of a good thing to really notice and was half dazed for most of the conversation. "Rachel are you in there?" Crap! She forgot to lock the door and heard the knob turning and the door beginning to open. She was panicking, frantically searching for anything to cover her up. As if fate were on her side, she left her dirty towel in there and quickly grabbed it. She wouldn't be able to see the seeping blood through the towel. It was already red. Swiftly, Rachel sat on the edge of the tub allowing the towel to cover her barley dressed bottom half and the blood that made it to the tiles. When Shelby's head popped in, not enough to see anything including Rachel, but enough for Rachel to see her, the pounding of her heart finally slowed enough for her to speak.
"What is it Shelby?"
"Are you decent?" Rachel considered the question. Was she decent? No, probably not. She was a dirty good for nothing idiot, but she was covered up. So yes, she was decent. She took one quick look around to make sure everything was covered up. Putting the bloody scissors in the tub behind her and making sure nothing else could be seen, Rachel decided it was ok for her to come in.
"You may come in Shelby."
"What are you doing in here? Didn't you hear me calling?"
"No I didn't hear you. I was just getting ready to shave." Shelby was eyeing her suspiciously. And why wouldn't she? Rachel was sitting in an awkward position, her legs sprawled in different direction, towel clad with a long sleeve shirt on, and her hands holding the towel to keep it from moving. She looked suspicious.
"Are you alright? You look a little nervous and clammy."
"I'm fine. It's just nerves. It's the last week before auditions and I'm not ready."
"You're going to do great."
"Thanks." Her heart was still pounding. She just wanted Shelby to leave. "Did you want something? I need to finish."
"I just wanted to say goodnight."
"Goodnight." It came out rushed. The desperation was evident.
"Goodnight…" Shelby took one last look at Rachel, eyeing her from head to toe, and then left. Rachel finally let out the breath she didn't even realize she was holding.
Once the high wore off and she was all cleaned up and bandaged, she felt guilty. Shelby almost caught her. If Shelby ever found out, she'd be disgusted and have one more reason to hate Rachel. She didn't need to give her anymore reasons for that. She was already everything no one wanted. As great as it felt, as perfect as it was, and as much as she really wanted to, she couldn't do it again. It was wrong. But how could it feel so right?
She made herself a promise that night. She promised never to do it again. She wouldn't do it again.
I finished this chapter on Saturday. The site wouldn't let me sign in until Wednesday. By that time I already started adding more and reworking the chapter. What I'm trying to say is that I'm sorry for the delay.
Sorry for any and all grammatical or spelling errors.
So I got a little lost in this chapter. There might be a slight lack in focus, but I got my major points that I needed to out there. I hope you all enjoy this chapter anyways. Everything's coming to a head soon. I have it all worked out in a jumbled not really worked out kind of way. For those of you who can't figure out my mind's mess, that means that I have ideas swirling and I hope they translate into my writing. We will see how it turns out.
Well, until next time…
I want to say that I'm so grateful for all of the wonderful comments. Thank you to everyone who reviewed, favorited, and/or added this to their alerts. Don't be afraid to tell me what you think or if there's anything you'd like to see happen.