Chapter 21: Glee Parties Never End Well
It was almost party time! Rachel wasn't excited though. She'd fake it 'til she made it, but her day wasn't getting any better and there was nothing that would change that. So there she was in her room dwelling on her terrible day as she looked for a decent outfit. Anything that showed off too much leg was off limits. Although she could give the false explanation about the ballet accident that caused the cuts, it was more explaining than she wanted to do. Jeans, she decided on jeans; dark wash regular jeans that hung loosely around her waist. The jeans were meant to be fitted, and at one point they probably were, but as it stood, she could probably fit Beth in them with her. A belt was a necessity. Next up was her choice of tops. It had to be long sleeved, and it had to cover her waist. She had no explanation for the cuts there. She decided to go with a thick dark grey argyle sweater. Her mind seemed to instinctually pick something that would make her look meatier even though she was dying to be thinner.
Her hair was down and wavy and her makeup was a little dark, but she looked as good as she was going to get. Which if you asked her wasn't all that great. She thought she was hideous, but that wasn't a new thought. And it seemed to fit well with the theme of the day. Looking at her watch she saw that she still had about an hour before Kurt arrived. As much as she wanted to get away from Shelby and blow off some steam, she wasn't looking forward to any of it. Glee club get togethers never ended well.
In her spare time, she pulled out her journal. Her day was torturous, and she had to get through the rest of it without any of her normal tricks. Journaling was the only thing she could think of that might've helped. It did, a little. At the very least it made the time go by faster, because before she knew it, Shelby was knocking on her door.
"Come in." She told her, not looking up from the paper in front of her.
"Kurt should be here soon. Right?"
"Uh…" She had to check. Obviously her plan worked and she lost track of time. "Yeah, he should be here any minute now."
"You look very nice."
"Right, thanks."
"Why do you always do that?" All she could think of upon hearing Shelby say that was that there was just another thing to add to the list of sucky things the day brought.
"Do what?" Her defenses were up again. She didn't know what it was about the day that made her an easy target, but she was obviously dubbed the can that trash be thrown in, or at. Shelby was just adding to the pile. "What is it that I always do?"
"You used to take compliments like you needed them to live, but now, anytime someone says something nice about you, you dismiss it then get defensive when they question you about it."
"I don't do that. Maybe I simply don't like false compliments from you. And how would you know anything about how I used to be?" There was that defensive streak Shelby was talking about.
"Ok Rachel. You're right. I don't know what you were like before. I apologize. Let's just forget I asked."
"Fine." Rachel responded as she went back to her writing. She pretended Shelby wasn't standing in the middle of her room staring.
"What are you writing?" She was always curious to know what actually went into those journals. She got even more curious after she secretly watched Rachel open that purple lock box she kept hidden under the bed. There must've been a dozen or so journals in there. One day, she was going to find out for herself. Hopefully, Rachel would willingly share, but if she became anymore distant and cold, Shelby wasn't above snooping. She'd just tell herself it was for the greater good. A mother needs to know what's going on in her daughter's head.
"It's nothing." Rachel quickly closed it up and gripped it tightly. What she was writing was no business of Shelby's. "I need to finish getting ready." It was an excuse, but she would've said almost anything to get her out of the room.
"You know Rachel…" She moved closer to her daughter laying a hand on the girl's shoulder. "I've said it before, and I'll say it again, but I'm here if you want to talk to me. I want to hear what you have to say. I understand that you like to write in your diary, but I'd love it if you would talk to me and tell me some of the stuff you only confide to a blank piece of paper. I'm here for you."
"I know." Pretending to be ok with what came out of Shelby's mouth was harder than she anticipated. Her feelings towards Shelby seemed to teeter like a seesaw during a high wind storm. One minute she accepts what her mother offers and even starts to enjoy her company. And then the next minute, she's revolted by whatever words come out of her mouth. "I just have nothing to say at the moment. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to continue my beauty regimen."
"Ok." She was defeated, but talking to her five minutes before a party didn't seem like a great time to push her. Then again, it never seemed to be a good time. And every time she tried, she just put it off after the slightest bit of reluctance on Rachel's part. For such a strong willed woman, Shelby was like putty when it came to Rachel. She really needed to learn to stop and just stick to her guns. She was known for her attitude and she needed to embrace that. "Finish, and then come see me before you leave. Oh, and lighten up on the eyeliner. It's too dark and it's not really your style." What the hell did that mean? Rachel felt insulted. Did her mother just call her ugly? Obviously, that wasn't what Shelby said. She was disapproving of the rather excessive amount of black surrounding Rachel's eyes, more than she had ever seen on her face before, and simply suggested she wipe some of it off. Tone it down a little. But Rachel didn't see it that way. She rarely saw things just how they were. Everything to her was perceived as some sort of insult or negative commentary on her life.
Letting out a disgruntled groan, Rachel quickly redid her makeup. Even though she didn't want to, she still felt this insatiable need to please others; within reason of course. But her sense of reason was also skewed. It didn't matter. She was fixed and looking as good as she was going to get. She was just waiting for Kurt. Like he was feeling her impatience, her phone dinged with the sounds of an incoming text. We're outside diva. We? Who's we? She put those questions out of her mind for a moment and replied. Be out in just a minute.
After throwing her journal into her bag away from prying eyes, Rachel made her way down the hallway to Shelby's room. Her door was almost always open. For a few brief seconds, she just watched the scene play out. Shelby and Beth were sitting on the bed playing with one of those interactive books, the kind her fathers used to use with her once upon a time before they got too busy to bother with her. "Kurt's here. I'm leaving." She said interrupting the moment. The plan was to say it and hightail her butt out of there, but Shelby didn't have the same idea.
"Do we need to go over the rules?"
"Didn't we already do this? There's no drinking. I have to call once the gathering is over and we go back to Kurt's. Is there anything I'm forgetting?"
"I'm fairly certain that gathering is still code for partying, so I'm not stupid enough to believe it'll be alcohol free. All I'm asking is that you refrain from drinking and if your friends drink don't get into a car with them. Take their keys and call me. I won't ask any questions. I just want you to be safe."
"Whatever. Can I go now?"
Releasing a sigh Shelby responded, "You may go. Remember to call."
"I will." Her voice sounded faint as she made her way further down the hall. Clutching her purse and overnight bag, Rachel made her way outside. She was a little confused at first. Kurt's car wasn't anywhere in sight, but then she saw the car he was in. It was going to make for a different kind of car ride.
She hesitantly climbed into the backseat of the truck and waited for someone to say something. She didn't want to break the ice, especially since she was still a little angry a Finn. They haven't really talked since their break up months ago. But then he freaked out after that rumor about her was going around school, and she wasn't sure she'd forgiven him for that. "Hey diva. How'd your dance thing go?"
"Hello Kurt. Don't ask."
"That bad?"
"That bad."
"Hi Rachel."
"Hi Finn, how are you?"
"I'm good, you?"
"Fine thank you." By that point, Finn took off and was driving toward his old home and Rachel scooted up in the seat to whisper in Kurt's ear. "I thought you were picking me up."
"I did pick you up."
"No, Finn did." She clarified.
"I know, sorry. My dad's car needed a new something installed and I couldn't drive it. So it was Finn or walking." At least with walking, she wouldn't have to deal with Finn and the awkward tension. Plus more calories would've been burned.
"I guess it's fine. It doesn't really matter now. Does it?"
"Guess not."
Things were even more awkward when they stopped to pick up Quinn. Rachel definitely didn't sign up for that. And the more than awkward silence that filled the cab didn't make the situation any better. They didn't even exchange hellos. Quinn just gave her a once over accompanied by her evil glare and then chatted up a storm with Finn. Rachel just sunk back into her seat and prayed that they'd get to the house sooner rather than later. She wasn't surprised Kurt didn't say much either.
She was ecstatic when they pulled in the driveway of the Hudson house that was soon to be on the market. The lights were on and Puck's car was already parked there. He was inside with a few of the other glee kids getting all the alcohol ready. Glee parties never ended well. She should've realized that before she bothered saying she'd show up.
When they went in there were already people there that they weren't really friends with. Well Rachel wasn't. She still felt like she really didn't have any friends. There was Kurt and Puck, but they were both tumultuous relationships on the best of days. She obviously wasn't seeing things clearly. As soon as she stepped foot in the kitchen, she was bombarded with offers for drinks, all of which she turned down. She told herself she wouldn't drink. And she stuck to that… for the most part.
For most of the night, she was nothing more than a wallflower observing the scene. Mercedes and Shane were doing their thing, dancing and making out in the corner. She was surprised they didn't sneak into one of the bedrooms to make the most of the situation. But then she wasn't. Mercedes wasn't really the type. Her actions weren't very Rachel like that evening. She should've been hitting up the karaoke machine or dancing in the middle of the crowded room like Quinn or Santana, but she just couldn't bring herself to do it. There wasn't even an ounce of motivation in her bones to make her leave her nesting perch.
She could observe everything and everyone from there. It wasn't just Mercedes and Shane she saw, but all of them. Finn was being his naturally awkward self; it was cute in a weird way. He stood, a beer in hand, with some of the football players talking about the basketball season or something sports related. She wasn't sure. She couldn't tell the difference between a touchdown and point guard, two totally unrelated things.
Santana and Brittany danced together in between chugging their drinks and playing childish games. At one point, when they took a little breather and came out of the stuffy dance circle for air, Brittany came up to Rachel bearing gifts. She slid up on the wall leaning next to her and held out a hand with a cup.
"What's this?" Rachel asked.
"You looked thirsty. Drink it. You'll have fun like me." If only it were that easy; a simple drink and all other things just seemed to float away and she became a party machine. Maybe the drink could do the former, but the latter was still a far, far reach. And she had other techniques for the first thing.
"Thanks, I guess." She gratefully accepted the gesture. One drink wouldn't hurt. Maybe it'd even get her off the wall she seemed glued to.
"You're welcome. You should dance Rachel. You look like you're thinking too much. Drink and have fun." What a concept. Drink and have fun.
"I'll try Brittany." And just like she appeared out of nowhere, she was gone, and Rachel went back to her people watching.
She spotted Puck. A part of her was yearning to just waste the rest of the night with him. After party sex seemed to be how it all started. One more time couldn't hurt. But there he was surrounded by a flock of much prettier girls than her and she found herself jealous. No, she wasn't jealous. That wasn't allowed. There were no emotions between them. There was nothing but a collection of one night stands that gave them both the release they needed when they needed it. That was all. Yet, she still felt something that she didn't want to feel. She felt too much as it was, and feeling only led to trouble and hurt, so she pushed it down the same pipe it tried to come out of. Puck would stay Puck, so she'd stay Rachel and neglect whatever portion of whatever room he happened to be frequenting whenever possible.
Quinn… She could never understand Quinn. She'd been watching her since they arrived earlier that evening and still understood nothing. Rachel may have let the paternity secret out of the bag, but she didn't really do anything to Quinn. So why did Quinn insist on treating her like a second class citizen? Who was she to judge? Rachel was watching her. She saw what was going on. The moment Puck showed even the most remote attention in Rachel, Quinn was all over him. And then once Puck lost his train of thought and moved on to something else, she'd move back to Finn. She wanted everyone for herself and that just wasn't right. Getting frustrated, Rachel had to move on to someone else. Thinking about Quinn just made her head hurt worse.
So she found Kurt. She was genuinely happy for him. He met this guy at a coffee shop and after a few more "chance" meetings, decided to invite him to the party. Blaine. That was his name. Blaine. They looked so adorable with each other hanging out and having those discomfited getting to know you moments. They were a good fit. Rachel could really see them together, so she put in the effort to support them. Plus, Kurt having a boyfriend meant he'd have less time for her. And while she loved Kurt and loved hanging out with him, she just wasn't in the mood to be a social butterfly as of late. But she'd play the part when she had to. Swallowing the entire cup of beer, Rachel ventured from her corner when she saw Kurt alone in one of the back rooms.
"So I thought this was supposed to be a glee thing; just us and your boyfriend." She caught him off guard and even managed a little jump as he turned to face her.
"He's not my boyfriend."
"He will be. I can feel it."
"Oh yeah? What do you feel?"
"You guys are just too cute not to be together."
"I have to agree with you on that one. But what's up with you? You're not having any fun. You barely moved from that one spot all night. It's getting a little pathetic."
"Thanks a lot Kurt. I always wanted to be thought of as pathetic." Her anger was getting the better of her. She knew the day would only get worse. And she knew she had no one to blame but herself. She brought everything down on herself. "I'm sorry that I'm not in the best mood. I blew my audition and being forced into a car with Finn and Quinn at the same time didn't make my day any better. So excuse me for not wanting to dance and party hard when I'm sore and upset." She stormed out after that.
"Rachel wait!" She could hear his distant calls as she marched through the glass doors and into the backyard. Maybe the icy air would make her feel better. It both did and didn't. As the crisp chill spread across her body, she couldn't help but shiver, and as it ripped across her cut ridden arm, which she purposefully rolled up the sleeve on, it burned. The cold felt like it was reopening the wounds making them raw and fresh; a feeling she enjoyed. It didn't give her the same satisfaction as cutting did, but it definitely helped ease the hurt she was dealing with. But it only went so far.
A noise startled her from her internal reverie and she quickly looked around. She thought it might've been Kurt coming to make things right, but he wouldn't do that. They were both divas and knew when one of them was mad they needed a little bit of space before the groveling. So she looked around again after knowing it wasn't him. There was nothing but the sounds of a raging party blasting through the doors behind her. Even so, she slid down the sleeve. No one needed to see that, especially not when they were drunk and likely to gossip.
Through the window, she could see Puck go into the room she just rushed out of. It was the first time all night he escaped the flock that followed him. Ignoring her earlier intonations, she was about to go in there and talk to him, but Quinn beat her to the punch. Before she could even make it to the door, Quinn was in there chugging down her drink and searching for another. Hadn't she learned that she does stupid things when drunk? The last time she was as drunk as she obviously was there, Beth was created. Wasn't once enough? And she was all over Puck too. Touching him, leaning in, googly eyes… Didn't she want Finn that week? Obviously Rachel was making more of the situation than she should have. But she was still angry with Quinn for everything. There was everything with Finn, the rumors, and everything else. There was always something with her.
Luckily, Rachel didn't have to think about it or witness the monstrosity any longer because a pair of hands snapped her out of it. It freaked her out actually. She didn't know anyone else was out there. So when she nervously turned to face her possible attacker, she was more than relieved to see it was Finn. She didn't think she'd ever think that thought again.
"Way to scare a girl Finn."
"Sorry."
"What are you doing out here? Isn't this your party?"
"I don't know why we broke up Rach. Why did we break up?" He was drunk. His pores were practically oozing booze. And she wasn't anywhere near drunk enough to have that conversation.
"Finn, you're drunk."
"And you're not?" It wasn't a statement. He just assumed she was. So much for having fun.
"No Finn, I'm not."
"Well you should be." He grabbed her hand and started dragging her in. "Come on. Let's get you drunk." Yup, she was not having fun.
When they got into the kitchen, Puck and Quinn were gone to who knows where doing who knows what. She didn't think it was anything G rated. It was probably tipping on R. Rachel didn't want to be with there with Finn, and she didn't want think of Puck's extracurricular activities. She didn't know what she wanted. Yes she did. She wanted the last several months to be rewound and to have a do over. She'd definitely change a few things. But that wasn't an option, so wanting to be there or not, she allowed Finn to grab a bottle of the hard stuff and pull her into his room with him. At least he brought the good stuff. She'd need that to dull the ache and get through whatever mess of a topic he decided to discuss. She was going to take it slow though. She wouldn't get drunk; sipping not swigging.
But even that wasn't enough to drown out Finn's rambling thoughts of Quinn and her and their relationships. She didn't want to hear it, and it was worse because it didn't sound like Finn at all. How much did he drink exactly? She was afraid to find out. "Ok Finn. I think you had enough." She took the bottle from him and tried to keep it away, but he just moved closer to her.
"Why does Quinn always go back to him?" So that was what it was about? It was about Quinn. Everything always had to do with the all mighty Quinn.
"Go back to whom?"
"She was all over him. They're probably back at her house now. It wouldn't be the first time. We just started dating again."
"You're dating Quinn again?"
"Yeah, and she was with Puck most of the night. We were dancing and then she was with him. That's not right."
"No it's not right. But I don't want to talk about Quinn. You should talk to her about it."
"You're not like her you know?"
"I know." He kept getting closer only he wasn't looking for the alcohol anymore. He was all over her. His arm was touching her and his breath was hot against her ear as he leaned in.
"You never did that to me."
"No, but you did that to me. You were always all over her."
"Why are we talking about this?"
"Because you…" She didn't get a chance to finish before his mouth was all over hers. And, to her shock, she responded to his kiss. It was familiar and different from Puck's, but he was drunk and she could taste it She should've pushed him away, but the kiss brought her back to a time where, as shaky as their relationship was, her world was safe and normal. She didn't have that benefit in the present.
But before she knew it, things were progressing. He was going from drunken kisses to feeling her up and she wasn't really ok with that. Or was she? If she could have meaningless sex with Puck, why couldn't she do it with Finn? She let it continue for a little longer. She didn't want to lose that comfortable safety of the past just yet. So she let him guide her further down into the bed until he was on top of her kissing her. "What are you doing Finn?"
"Kissing you. Don't you like it?"
"It's great Finn, but you're drunk and I don't want to do this." She attempted to push him off. The smell of the alcohol on his breath was really starting to get to her.
"So you could give it up to some random guy but you won't be with me. I thought you loved me." Didn't they have that conversation before?
"I'll have you know that I was never with some random guy Finn."
"That's not what Quinn said."
"Well we all know Quinn always tells the truth. Let's ask Beth who her dad was supposed to be."
"That's not right Rachel." He was angry. She didn't want to have this fight. The party was over. It was like two in the morning and everyone from glee was scattered about the house in sleeping bags or in one of the beds. She wasn't going to have that fight with everyone in hearing distance. Fortunately, he was on the brink of passing out, so if she could pacify him long enough, she could leave without anyone being the wiser.
"You're right Finn, I'm sorry." She patted the spot on his bed that he jumped up from. "Why don't we just lie down and rest. You look tired." If she was lucky he'd forget everything that happened that night.
"Ok." There was no fight at all. He didn't even try to fight her on that suggestion. He just got in bed and snuggled with and unresponsive Rachel. She didn't want him. She didn't want to be there. So when he fell asleep, she tried to get up, but his hand just wrapped around her tighter and pulled her into a weird position.
Somewhere along the line, she fell asleep too, but not for long. Around 4:30, she woke up feeling a muscle cramp in her leg and she jumped out of bed. She was happy she didn't wake up Finn in the process. She wouldn't have been able to deal with that or any more of his Quinn talk. Even the kissing would've been too much. Her body ached as she grabbed her bag from the floor. Every muscle in her body was in pain. It was a culmination of the sleeping arrangements, the dancing, and the daily aches she just tended to have, but she was in pain no matter what the cause.
Pushing through the strains of her body, Rachel quietly tiptoed through the house and out the door. She didn't want to be there anymore. Unfortunately, she ran into Puck as she was just about to head out. Well, she didn't so much run into him as saw him cozying up with Quinn on the couch. They seemed so intimate and perfect. She'd give almost anything to have that. But she'd never get that. No one cared about her enough to stay the night or cuddle with her when she needed comforting. No one really cared... Period. She had to accept that.
With one last glance at the duo, Rachel took her leave and headed home. Whether they were fighting or not, she knew Kurt would worry and wonder if she stayed or not, especially since it was supposed to be a big glee slumber party thing, so she sent him a text just to let him know she was going home and not to worry. She'd be mad later. Or she wouldn't. He called her pathetic, he didn't kill her cat. Even she could see how she might have been overreacting. She wasn't the best party guest. So she'd apologize later, but she'd wallow on her walk.
By the time she got back to the house, she'd be over everything. That's what she told herself. But the cold air and the continuous pain wasn't doing anything to clear her mind. That wasn't normal. She'd been sore before from the nonstop exercising and dance and whatever else she did, but it felt weird. It was like her bones were aching. But she'd push it away and ignore it. The pain would go away. It always did. So in the light of the early morning, Rachel approached her front door. Shelby shouldn't have been awake, but on the off chance she was, Rachel didn't want to risk getting caught. She was standing on the steps debating her options. Front door or window?
She couldn't fathom climbing up the tree in the shoes she had on, and since she was already freezing, the door made more sense. As quietly as she could, she slipped the key into the door and made her stealthy return to her room. Finally she was warm and away from all things drama related, except in her head. All the stress she was feeling and pushed away was back and nearly doubled. She just wanted to sleep, forget everything that happened, and sleep. But as she was taking out her cell phone to set that alarm, she noticed a text.
You're a bitch Berry. Whatever we are we're done. What the hell? What did she do to Noah? Great, the day ended and it still seemed to be getting worse. Sunday was supposed to be her normal day. Nothing was supposed to go wrong, but Saturday was bleeding all over Sunday. She was trying. She really was. And all she wanted to do was sleep. It was a long walk. She was frustrated before that. Everything in her body hurt. All she wanted to do was sleep. But then she was too worked up replaying everything that could've gone wrong with Puck. And for the life of her she couldn't figure it out. All she knew was that she needed to cool off. There was only one thing she could think to do.
So after finishing her pacing and throwing her phone so hard onto the bed she thought it would break, she marched down to the kitchen. She didn't have to worry about being too quiet. If Shelby was asleep, she usually stayed asleep. She was a very deep sleeper unless Beth was crying. Then the tiniest whimper woke her up. Of course, Rachel would be conscious of her surroundings because she wasn't alone, but she wouldn't be hyper vigilant.
She rummaged through the vegan portions of the pantry picking out all her favorites. She was frustrated and eagerly devouring the food helped relieve some of that tension. There were a few quiet grunts of anguish thrown in between bites along with quiet rumblings of self-deprecating phrases to herself. There was "stupid," "idiot," and a few "worthless"s thrown in as well. She was just so angry and it wasn't just about the last few days. It was about everything. Her life was a mess. She was angry at her fathers for dying. She was angry at Shelby for being her mother and not being her mom. But most of all, she was angry at herself. She was angry that she couldn't do anything right, that she probably ruined any chances of starring in the recital, that she wasn't good at anything, and that she wasn't worthy of her parents' love; none of their love, not even Shelby's. Going through all of that in her head, she barely even realized how much she'd eaten in such a short span of time. Her jaw was hurting from the rampant chomping. And quickly throwing away the evidence, Rachel made her way to the downstairs bathroom.
And just like that, everything went away. Maybe not everything was gone, and it would all come back, but for the brief moments, she was liberated. She felt nothing. She felt free. And those were the feelings she so desperately needed to feel. The air felt less toxic as she took a calming deep breath. Everything was lighter. Inhaling one last time in the euphoria she felt, Rachel quickly flushed the toilet and went to rinse out her mouth. Her toothbrush was upstairs, so Listerine would have to be a temporary substitute.
"Rachel?" The bleary voice pulled her from the high. How much did she hear? What did she know? Quickly, she spit the blue liquid into the sink and turned to face Shelby.
"Shelby… What are you doing up?" Her attempt to play it cool wouldn't last long. Already, her heart was racing for a multitude of reasons and she was pretty sure her headache had reached astronomical proportions and would only get worse the louder Shelby spoke. And if Shelby wasn't happy, her voice could deafen anyone. She could also sense that she wasn't going to get out of that bathroom alive.
"Better question is what are you doing here?"
"Oh… I, uh, I got into a fight with Kurt and left early." Good Rachel, feed her more of that. Maybe she could play with Shelby's pity.
"So you came home at 5:30 in the morning?"
"It was more like…" She decided against finishing that statement. "Yeah, I just got home."
"Ok, we'll get to that obvious lie later. Did I just hear you throwing up?"
"What?" Panic was welling. Why did Rachel always do that? Why was she always so stupid? "No. No throwing up here."
"I'm pretty sure there was. I heard it with my own ears."
"Maybe you were dreaming." Rachel knew it wasn't going to end well. Things looked even worse when Shelby began inching closer.
"Have you been drinking?" And she was yelling. Rachel's head couldn't take it. No matter what she said she wasn't going to win the fight, but she needed to try. Being caught drinking would bare less punishment than inducing vomiting for fun. So if she was going down, she was going down for the lesser crime. But if she was going down, it was going to be as soft a landing as possible.
"No I wasn't." Shelby leaned into Rachel. "Are you? Are you sniffing me?"
"You smell like a booze hound."
"Do people still use that term? I think that went out of circulation years ago."
"Answer me! Have you been drinking?"
"No. Could you not yell at me please?" Her grabbing at her throbbing head to shield herself from the stabbing sounds of her voice probably wasn't helping her case.
"Why?" She asked speaking louder. "Is the hangover hitting you hard?"
"No!" Rachel yelled back. "Maybe I have a headache from walking home in the freezing cold and crying because I got into a fight with my best gay."
"And yet, everything points to a hangover. You were throwing up. Your head hurts. Sensitivity to sound. And you smell like a brewery."
"I smell like a brewery because some idiot spilled a drink on me. People were drinking, but I'm not drunk." Wording was everything. She wasn't drunk. Drinking she did, but it wouldn't still be on her breath. Finn's odor, however, was probably all over her.
"I don't know what to believe with you Rachel."
"You should believe me. I'm telling you the truth."
Shelby let out a clearly frustrated sigh. "I don't know what to do here." She bypassed Rachel and reached into the medicine cabinet. "It's too early for this conversation. Take these." Holding out her hand, she placed two pills into Rachel's. "Go to your room and sober up. Don't go for your run and stay in there until I get you for breakfast."
"Whatever." That was the only response she could muster. "I really don't like you."
"Well, right now I really don't like you either. Now go. We'll be talking about this later."
Practically stomping out of the room, Rachel stopped at the top of the stairs and yelled, "I'm not drunk!" And then she ran to her room and slammed the door shut as hard as she could.
All the commotion caused enough of a disturbance to wake Beth who was then emitting cries. "Rachel!" Shelby yelled in anger. That was not how she envisioned her Sunday morning. But she went to soothe Beth and hopefully get her back to bed or she'd be cranky all day. And Shelby couldn't handle two temperamental daughters at once. She just couldn't… Not yet. Luckily Beth wasn't too bad to deal with and she settled down fairly easily when Shelby took her into her room with her. They both went back to bed, but not before Shelby thought f a few ways to deal with Rachel.
Rachel had her own way of dealing with everything. She was going from one high to the next. She wasn't going to do it at first. It was one of the issues, that while she craved it, she still felt guilty about. But she'd get over it and she'd give in. It actually didn't take very long. In all of about ten minutes of trying to soothe herself, she ended up just working herself up even more. After that she didn't hesitate to go into the bathroom and pull out her razor. Reaching in for the Band-Aid, Rachel pulled out the silver object and got ready to use it. Locking the bathroom door to ensure privacy and no interruptions, Rachel pulled off her shirt and dug the razor into her skin. There was no regard for her safety. Every bit of rage she was feeling both toward herself and others, was let out in each foul slash. Some were just reopening the cuts she already made, but the first one was so packed full of emotion that it just tore through her arm just barely missing the vein. The blood pulsated out of her body in a rapid pool. Each stream screamed for her attention. It didn't take long for the shallow cuts to clot, but that one, the big one, wouldn't stop. She didn't want it to. She was enjoying it. She wanted as much of the filth and contamination out as humanly possible. And if watching the glorious cherry fountain flow so freely did that for her, she was going to allow it. When one technique failed, try another. That's what she did, and that's what she'd stick with.
There was no more guilt or anger. No more pain. It was all empty again. The good kind of empty where emotions were void and life seemed so perfect and content. Knowing it wouldn't last long, Rachel savored every moment of it before cleaning up and taking a shower. Watching the blood wash away was a part of the process she enjoyed. She couldn't do that every time, but it still fed the high. And anything that made the feeling last longer or reach new heights was ok in her books.
She was surprised that sleep came so easily after that. The waves of calm seemed to retain their form much longer than she anticipated and as soon as her head hit the pillow, she was out. The peace and quiet of her mind didn't last long, however, as Shelby decided to give her a noisy wake up call. She sipped open Rachel's door, stomped her feet like a child, and pulled Rachel out of bed. The first thing Rachel did in response to the intrusion was pull her arm away. She was in enough trouble, she didn't want Shelby to feel or see the cuts on her exposed arm and fan the flames.
"What is your problem?"
"Right now, you're my problem." She watched as Rachel pulled her arms to her body in a protective stance. She wanted to question it, but it would have to wait. Right then, she was angry and needed to deal with the current issue. "Get up, get dressed, and be at the table in fifteen minutes."
"Do I have a choice?"
"No." The finality of her word left no questioning. She was in for it. Rachel knew that much was obvious. And as much as she wanted to push the limits and tell Shelby exactly where to shove her sanctimonious bull that she'd be fed as soon as she got down there, she knew it'd be easier to just shut up, grin, and bear it.
"I'm here." Rachel announced much to Shelby's displeasure. "Can we get this over with?"
"Sit Rachel." Shelby demanded. Once they were sitting across from each other, both sharing the same glare, Shelby continued. "This behavior is unacceptable Rachel, and I will not tolerate it."
"This is probably the one time you should be sure I didn't do what you're accusing me of doing."
"So you didn't drink?" She didn't see the point of lying. Maybe truth would get her a reprieve.
"I may have had one drink, but I didn't drive and I didn't get drunk. I didn't do anything wrong."
"You don't see where that's wrong?"
"I shouldn't have had any alcohol. Fine you're right. But I was responsible and I'm admitting to it. Shouldn't that count for something?"
"It does count for something, but it doesn't change anything. You're grounded."
"I figured. How long?"
"A month."
"One month? That's insane."
"I've been very lenient and you've taken advantage of it. That ends now. You'll have no phone except for when you're at dance so that you can call me to get you when it's over. I will be driving you to and from school. Homework will be done in the living room or kitchen or wherever I am at the time."
"I have to do my homework in front of you?"
"You're lucky I'm not making you eat lunch with me at school too."
"So I have no freedom at all?"
"No. And I want your IPod and computer. If you need the computer, tell me and I'll let you use it."
"This is ridiculous. I didn't even do anything that bad."
"Ok, let's talk about bad. What time did you decide to walk home last night?"
"It was this morning. I got in just before you decided I was guilty of treason and sent me to bed."
"You're lying."
"Does it matter if I am? You won't believe me anyway."
"I would if you told me the truth."
"No you wouldn't, but I'll tell you anyway. I left early this morning and took my time walking home because I didn't want to deal with Kurt after we had a fight. I couldn't sleep and I thought it'd be safer to come here than to hang out in a park or something."
"Was that so hard?" Shelby asked as she pinched the bridge of her nose.
"Yes it was because no matter what I say I'm apparently lying."
"I am so disappointed Rachel."
"You're disappointed? You're disappointed! What do you have to be disappointed about? You have everything you've ever wanted. You have your perfect daughter. You have your perfect house. The only thing you're missing is the dog. But I guess I kind of fill that role. Don't I? Get sick of me; throw me back to the pound. Maybe I'd be better off there. You have nothing to be disappointed about. Yes, I'm a big letdown, but what does that matter to you? Why do you care?"
"I care because I'm your mom and I love you."
"No! You're my mother and you abandoned me. You don't love me and I don't love you. You love Beth and you love yourself. I don't fit into the perfect Corcoran world. So I'm grounded. Are we done here?"
"No, we need to talk about this."
"I'm done talking!"
Rachel rushed to her room and locked herself in. The rest of the day was tense and quiet. No one dared disturb the other in fear of World War III. Shelby was beyond frustrated, but truly at a loss. She didn't understand how Rachel could still feel that way after everything. She wouldn't have had her move in if she didn't care. And she wanted Rachel to see that; to feel that. So the rest of the day was spent with each contender in their respective corners to avoid the knockout. They both had some things to figure out and work through. They couldn't do that in the midst of the battle o the wills.
And the next day Shelby stuck to her word. She brought Rachel to and from school, confiscated the items, and upheld all rules. Rachel was avoiding all people like the plague. Their English class was uncomfortable and hard. It was like all the other kids could feel the anger filling the room. And it didn't help that Puck and Rachel couldn't even look at each other. The day just sucked. It was hard and grueling and everyone just wanted it over. Rachel was up two cuts and void of all stomach contents by the time glee rolled around; not to mention the additions from the day before while she was stowed away in her room. That was a school first though; cuts and vomit. Cutting was usually just for home, but it was necessary and she didn't care.
By the end of that Monday, everyone just needed their own space. Rachel went straight to her room after Shelby her from school and glee and errands. Shelby decided to just cool off; relax a little. Taking off her shoes and jacket, she sunk into the couch with Beth and let out a sigh of relief. It was, what felt like, one of the longest days of the year and she couldn't wait to just crawl into bed and pray that tomorrow brought better times. Unfortunately, she didn't even get ten minutes. Just as soon as she got comfortable, the phone rang.
"Ugh, what now?" She asked herself as she placed Beth into her playpen and hurried to the phone. "Hello?" There was no bothering with caller ID. She just wanted to pick up, see what they wanted, and do nothing for the rest of the night. That wasn't going to happen, and she wasn't going to be happy.
"Shelby Corcoran? "
"This is."
"Hello, this is Dr. Cantor."
"Oh hi." Did doctors normally call the parents directly? "Are you calling about Rachel's test results. Did you find something wrong?" Then she thought, "Why would the doctor call her personally about an appointment? This couldn't be good."
"Test results? No, I'm calling about Rachel."
"Oh god, a personal phone call's never a good sign. What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong, not that I know. I had her on the schedule not too long ago but she never came in. You cancelled, but I know you had some concerns about her weight loss and I have to say that it's something I'd like to look into."
"Wait, wait, wait. I cancelled the appointment? I didn't cancel anything"
"When my assistant called to confirm the appointment you told her you had to cancel. But I felt it important to call and reschedule, especially if the problems you mentioned continue." Shelby was furious after that. The only one that could've canceled was Rachel. And that would make sense since she and Beth went out and Rachel was home alone. Rescheduling the appointment for the same date as Beth's new patient physical, Shelby rushed through the rest of the conversation.
When Shelby hung up the phone, she was flooded with a mess of different emotions, but one thought stuck out the most. Five words explained it all; everything she was experiencing. "That girl is so dead." And that only just began to cover it.
"Rachel!"
Sorry it took so long for this chapter. All I can say to justify it is that my nephew was using my computer and erased the entire chapter before I could back it up. That's what I get for being a good aunt. After that I just needed to get away from the story or I would've murdered it because the original chapter was so good and this one is… whatever it is. I should mention that updates will be a little erratic for the next two months. We have family flying in from Germany and we haven't seen them in some time. So I'm going to be spending as much time with them as possible. However, I'm going to do my best to write as much as I can in advance before the arrival so that I can update fairly regularly during their stay. I want to say anticipate an update every two weeks starting now, but no promises.
Anyway… I got a little lost and had to take a short break. It was like everything I wrote after that was wrong and I had to rewrite it. I do hope it was worth the wait though.
It seems like every time I try to upload I get an error message or I just can't log in. Does that only happen to me or do any of you get that too?
Here's a question. How many people want Jesse brought in? Some people expressed an interest and I'll write him in if it's the consensus, but I don't love the character. I like the actor, not the character.
Sorry for any and all grammatical or spelling errors. It wasn't proofread at all. If I reread it I would've found something wrong and it'd be another month before updates.
I hope you enjoyed this chapter. 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.