Chapter 6
It was 3:30 am by the time Rachel had gotten into the sleeping position she'd been longing for. There was no longer the feeling of her skin being on fire, or the uncomfortable sensation of her aching bones. For the first time in a while, she could finally close her eyes and drift off into the deep slumber that she really needed.
This was, until the walls started to vibrate, following with the loud sound of music playing from the room all the way down the hall at 4:00 am.
She figured she'd fight it off with how exhausted she was from the day before. But, as her eyes closed, any indication of sleep was now foreign to her. Sitting up, she chucked her covers off of her in an angered fit.
She met Sam in the hallway, looking half-asleep. He wiped his droopy eyes before acknowledging her presence. "Now you know the reason I get to the student council office before you, every morning. He's my alarm clock," Sam joked. "I'm going to start making coffee downstairs. My sleep is pretty much out the window."
"So, you're just going to let him keep playing? What about the neighbors?" Rachel whispered.
"The closest neighbors we have live about 5 miles up the road. Plus, do you really think he takes orders from me? He could kick my ass if he wanted to…" he told her.
"Make me coffee too, please." She begged. "I'm probably going to be up for a while."
Nodding to her instructions, she watched as he turned and descended the stairs. This left her ears to ring as she took in the sound of loud music and a set of drums being played.
With everything she had, her fist banged against the white of the door. It took about a minute for every sound to halt and for the door to fly open; behind it stood Finn with dark circles under his eyes and an annoyed expression over his face.
"Are you freaking insane?" she asked, placing her hands over her hips.
"I think that's your job." He replied, going to close the door in her face. Her hand flew up and stopped the door within a matter of seconds.
"Actually, smart-ass, my job is to get a lot of rest... Which is very vital if I'm going to get over this flu." She explained to him. "See, when you have the flu, your bones ache really bad and you get night sweats… Which, I've been having for the past four hours. Then, about a few minutes ago I got into the most comfortable position of my life, and I was finally falling asleep. But you want to know what happened?" She explained it as if he was a three-year-old. Rachel knew that he was, mentally.
"You started playing that…noise, and ruined everything!" she exclaimed.
"Oh, calm down, princess," he rolled his eyes. "Your castle isn't going to fall down because of a few rocks thrown at it."
"How about I throw a few rocks at you?" she crossed her arms, ignoring Finn's eye roll at her side remark.
"How about you get out of my doorway and go back to sleep?" Finn asked. "It'll do us all some justice."
He went to close the door again, but like before she caught it with her hand. This time, her moodiness that she'd normally gotten from a lack of sleep, kicked in.
"Finnegan Christopher Hudson!" she exclaimed, taking a note from Mr. Hudson.
"Wow, Rachel Barbra Berry, you've learned my full name before our first official date," he mocked. "You could really be the one," he rolled his eyes. Meanwhile, she looked to him with a questioning look.
"I've never told you my full name," she reminded him.
"Neither did I," he smirked, "it looks like we're both victims of parents who talk too much."
"You're an ass," she told him, hoping it'd have some effect. The only thing it did was rolled right off of him.
"So I've been told," he winked before closing the door in her face. Becoming exasperated, she violently huffed, heading down the stairs. Thankfully, her cup of coffee was waiting on the counter as requested.
Reaching for the Tylenol, she closed her eyes and sighed. "Is there a medicine for Finn-ism?"
"I'm pretty sure I would've taken it a long time ago if there was," Sam told her.
She made her mind up the moment she reached for his favorite cereal. "He gets a kick out of making me mad. So, I don't see why I can't play along. He did say 'let the games begin'," she smiled, grabbing a bowl.
"You're entering your own war," he warned her. "I'm not getting involved."
Pouring the milk and reaching for a spoon, she took a bite and chewed as loud as she could. "A victorious one, it'll be."
Shaking his head, he returned to the school work he seemed to be working on. This only reminded Rachel that she would be behind this week's assignments, which caused her next movements.
"You know what? I should start on my school work too." she headed up the stairs, and headed for her school bag in the corner of the room. She nearly jumped when a notification sounded from her phone. Reaching for the cellular device, she read a reminder for a test she'd set a week ago. Wouldn't be much use now, she thought.
Heading back downstairs, she figured she'd ask Sam something about their most recent English assignment. However, when she entered the kitchen, he wasn't there. Instead, Finn was sitting at the counter, eating a bowl of cereal.
She stopped, with wide eyes. Finn was eating a bowl of cereal, her bowl of cereal.
"What?" he asked, with a mouthful.
"Where'd you get that cereal from?" she asked.
"Sam fixed it for me," he told her. "And before you ask, no, you can't have any."
She began to laugh and shake her head. In her mind, she knew that she already won.
"What's with you? You're being weird." He asked, looking at her with confusion and annoyance.
"Sam didn't fix that bowl of cereal, I did." She said.
"Well," he looked at her with a funny expression. "Thanks."
"No," she added. "I didn't fix you a bowl of cereal. I fixed myself a bowl of cereal and then went upstairs to get my books, after I'd taken a few bites." She watched his face light up with realization before running to the sink to rinse out his mouth.
"Oh god, this isn't happening," he whispered to himself.
"Remember when I told you that you were an ass a while ago?" she asked. He tried to ignore her, not being favorable for her sarcasm right now. "Well, scratch that. You're just a plain dumb-ass." She laughed at her own joke, leaving him alone to hope that he didn't catch her sickness from the spoon he put into his mouth. Walking up behind him, she got onto her tippy-toes, reaching for a napkin on the side of him. She whispered in his ear, sending a chilling position to his tall and muscular figure, "I hope I'm not contagious." Retrieving back up the stairs, she took a shower. She decided she'd return to her work when she was finished.
When she returned downstairs to put her dirty towels into the laundry room, Finn was still sitting on the counter with Sam standing on the side of him. He wore a distraught face.
She knew that he was trying to guilt trip her into feeling bad about leaving the cereal out for him to eat from. Any smart person would know not to eat vacant food just sitting on the counter.
"Are you really still upset about this?" she asked him, only getting a shrug on his behalf. Sam looked at her with concern. She knew that everything inside of her wanted to fight what she was going to do next. This was especially since all of the times he'd made her feel like a complete idiot. She'd wanted to revel in it, in his time of fear; using this moment as some part of revenge.
But, the thought made her sick. She knew that her mother was like this and would probably jump at the chance. It just wasn't who she was. Once again, her morals came into play, just like her father had always taught her. It wasn't something that she could easily ignore. Be the bigger person, she told herself. And, like always, she listened.
"Unlike you, I've had the flu before and it was the worst time of my life." He told her, placing his hands over his head. Gosh, he made it so hard. But, she continued to listen.
This time Sam stepped in. "We had to rush him into the hospital because his fever exceeded 104 degrees."
"Take it from Sam; the flu makes me do some pretty stupid things." Finn told her. "The headaches crowd my judgement, I think. I remember one time I thought it'd be a good idea to play a game of baseball with my friends even though I was obviously feeling the symptoms."
"That's just you being your usual dumb self," she replied absentmindedly. Bigger person, she reminded herself.
"Rachel," Sam commented. She felt like he was trying to take the role of the parent… There was nothing she hated more than when people tried to play the role of her custodian.
"Whatever you may think, I can't get sick." Finn told the two. "We have a baseball game coming up and if I can't play, we're not going to the playoffs."
"So, now you know the seriousness of the predicament I'm in right now?" Rachel asked, crossing her arms. "My grades are on the line, not to mention how my head is still ringing from those stupid drums."
He only looked to his feet. Sam placed a hand on his shoulder, assuring him that he'd be okay. "Look, we'll schedule an appointment with the family doctor for you to make sure that you're okay. Just make sure that you don't show any symptoms and you should be fine."
"Plus, I only took one bite of the cereal before I left. You probably won't even get it." Rachel added. "I remember this one time that I didn't want to go to a party, so I drank after my mom when she had the virus and I didn't even catch it. It sucked on my part, because I had to go to the party anyways, but I didn't get sick. So, there's no reason to believe that you will."
Sam mouthed "thank you," to her. She smiled and nodded her head. "Go get ready because we're going to have to leave soon," Sam instructed Finn before he turned to leave the kitchen. The light of the day began to show in through the window, giving Rachel a sense of surprise. She hadn't realized that time had flown since she'd been awake.
Before she could exit the kitchen to try and catch up on her rest, Finn stopped her by gently grabbing her arm. It wasn't a violent grip, but it still shocked her all the same.
"You can give up the act, you know…" he told her.
"What act?" she was confused.
"You know, the whole nice one," he replied. "It's not exactly our thing," he reminded her.
"Who said anything about us having a thing?" she crossed her arms, amused. She watched him squirm under her gaze.
"Calm down, I didn't confess my undying love for you," he rolled his eyes. "We don't exactly get along, that's our thing."
"Believe it or not, Finn, there's no act. I'm not exactly the meanest person in the world, despite what you may think about me. If anything, that's your job." She replied.
"Profound," he replied, giving a mocking round of applause.
"Wow, Finn Hudson knows big words. I never thought I'd see the day," she rolled her eyes.
"And I never thought I'd see the day where you didn't act like you have a giant stick shoved up your ass," he replied. "I guess I'm still waiting."
She didn't know how to reply to that, nor did she want to. So, instead, she let him get the last word. As he chuckled with amusement, she began to exit the room. She was tired and another cold remark would result in her sneezing in his face on purpose just to watch him suffer from fear of catching her illness.
Instead, once her head hit the pillow again, she was out cold and not a single pain in her body could interrupt her deep slumber.
It was four days later when the three received a call from Christopher and Shelby. They stated that they'd be in Columbus for at least another week. As Sam kept himself calm and collected when the situation was presented, Finn and Rachel were arguing their cases to the voices on the other end of the line.
"No, that's not fair!" Rachel yelled at her mom over Sam's shoulder. "I haven't gotten any sleep this past week because of Finn and his stupid drums!"
"Well I can't even watch TV without Rachel's stupid Bravo recording notifications popping up!" Finn yelled over Sam's other shoulder.
"Wow, it's so hard to believe that they called my phone," Sam told them, holding his hand over the microphone. He walked away, leaving the two furious in each other's presence.
"There's no way that I'm ever sharing a home with you," he told her after they lingered in the silence for a few minutes.
"And you think that I'm all for it?" she asked, crossing her arms, taking in the annoyance that she noticed Finn had been projecting all day, even before the phone call. "Is it your time of the month or something?" she asked.
"What?" he asked, obviously not finding comedy in her remark. Instead, he acted as if he had no time for her or her jokes.
"You've been pissy all day, which is either a normal Finn-thing that I haven't caught onto yet and don't want to, or something's up that's causing you to act this way. I'm not saying that any of this would be my business on normal circumstances, but this is the second time you've lashed out at me today and I'm tired of it, so spill."
"I'm not pissy," he defended himself. "You're pissy."
"This morning you put Sam on blast because he forgot your spoon for your cereal." She reminded him.
"I was really hungry and you can't really eat cereal without a spoon. I've tried before, it doesn't work." He replied, angrier as his aggravation heightened.
"You're doing it again," she replied, not even giving a second thought of how much he would chew her out for pushing his anger further.
"Rachel, I have a really bad headache, okay?" he raised his voice, causing Sam to enter the room again. "The more noise and things that aggravate me, like you for example, cause my head to pound really hard. So, leave me alone!" he yelled before flying up the stairs, only to have the slam of a door follow shortly after.
Rachel remembered earlier that week, placing her palm to her forehead. Feeling the familiar warmth of a slight fever, she felt the guilt in her mind that she never really planned on feeling. He did grab the bowl himself, she thought. However, she was the one who left it out for him.
"I got him sick," she nodded to herself, looking to the floor. "And for whatever reason in the world, I feel guilty."
"That's a good thing," Sam replied.
"What?" she asked with disbelief.
"Not the sick part. I mean the part about you feeling bad. It means that you're human and you're a good person. You feel for him when I don't think he even has feelings." Sam laughed.
"I don't feel for him," she assured him. That was a long time ago when she crushed on him. Since then, she'd seen the person he was and instantly became disgusted. She didn't want to return.
"Well, you are still a compassionate person, and that's a good quality about you," Sam reminded her.
"Thanks," she smiled.
"I'm going to see if the doctor has any openings for this afternoon. With my luck he'll go off on me for making more than one appointment for this week. You still have that check-up for Tuesday before going back to school on Wednesday."
"Thanks for the reminder, dad," she rolled her eyes, laughing while she returned to the kitchen. Before they received the call, she was working on a math assignment that Quinn and Santana dropped off yesterday.
In these past few days, she'd already recognized change. She was getting back to her normal self. Of course, the fever hadn't died down and there was still the familiar body pain and runny nose, but her monstrous headache was beginning to vanish. She was so relieved.
This only made it hard to concentrate on her work. She was distracted with all the sources of guilt that surrounded her mind. Even if she didn't want to care, she had to admit that she was feeling empathetic for Finn right now; especially since she tried to assure him not to think the worse. Of course he questioned her motives by calling it an act, but she generally did feel terrible about this. No matter how hard he made things for her, she felt bad that he'd gotten sick by her own doing. Well, sort of, seeing as though he ate the cereal she left out.
That didn't matter. All that mattered was that Rachel's morals were getting to her. She felt like there was something that she needed to do for him; even if he did revel in it and make her feel like an idiot for being nice. The sick version of Finn already seemed two-times as aggravating as the regular version of himself; and she'd only seen it for a day. She was not ready to encounter a whole other week of this.
Getting up from the stool at the island, she headed towards the stove. When she was finished, she grabbed the continents and headed upstairs. Getting in front of Finn's surprisingly quiet room, she knocked twice and stepped back to prepare for any unexpected burst outs.
Once the tall figure came from behind the door, he looked her down and annoyance came back to his exhausted features.
"What do you want, Rachel?" There was no will in his voice to put up a fight with her right now. Instead, the only thing that could be interpreted was the sounds of hoarseness leaving his voice when he talked.
"I just wanted to apologize," she finally manned up, not knowing she had the strength to ever say any of that to him. She hoped with the smart-ass that he was, he'd keep his mouth shut and not make her feel stupid for reaching out. "I kind of got you sick and I know how you're feeling with the headache and all."
"Well," he paused not knowing what to say. She predicted that sarcasm was coming off the tip of his tongue, but he surprised her when he opened his mouth. "Thank you for that. But, if you really know how I feel, you'd understand that I just really want to go to sleep."
"Of course," she shook her head, before he started closing the door. "Wait!" she called. The annoyance in his face returned before he saw what she was holding in her hands.
"I made you some herbal tea." She smiled. "It'll help a lot with the sore throat that I can hear in your voice. I also brought you some of these." She said handing him the tea and two capsules of Tylenol. "It's a real headache killer," she laughed. She was surprised that she even found it in herself to be this way with him. "The pains and aches go away with it too. It's like a flu life-saver."
"And I also have this cooling pad because there is nothing worse than the terrible and disgusting night sweats in my opinion. Plus, I know your recent history of going over the 104 degree mark, fever wise. So, I thought if I could prevent any of that, I would. It's the least I could do."
"Why are you doing all of this?" he asked, once again looking for the motive. This made Rachel mad to think that someone thought that'd she'd turn to bribery with her good deeds.
"Because, I'm like madly in love with you," she replied in an obnoxious way, making fun of the remark he made to her earlier. He leaned against his door before a slight smirk left his face.
"Gosh, Berry, took you long enough," he joked back. "Did you honestly think that I never noticed how weak I made your knees in freshman year whenever I'd walk past you and your friends in the hallway?"
Her face turned into a tomato. She remembered what he was referring to and it was even more embarrassing considering that this was before she'd met him. Freshman year was the year that she was absolutely head over heels for him, with the lingering crush she carried over from middle school. It was before he'd met Sugar, and was walking around the schools without a girlfriend on his side. She never realized that he knew that she was looking. She thought it was more of an in-the-background kind of thing. She couldn't believe how awkward things were as he flashed a smug grin.
"But, seriously, you should get plenty of rest. That's the most important thing to the flu." She smiled, avoiding the subject as she backed away into the hall.
"Can't answer my question, can you?" he challenged.
"It's not exactly something that I can do sober," she admitted. His face lit up for whatever reason, but she only flashed him a look of confusion before leaving him alone in his doorway.
Later that day, Rachel received a text from Quinn and Santana that they were doing another hang out. When they asked her to come over, she tried to play the whole I'm-sick-and-shouldn't-be-around-people card, not feeling up to being very social. But, they pushed her like they always did and said they'd take her how she was. This made her love them even more. She ended up begging Sam to bring her to Santana's house while Finn was away at his appointment with the doctor.
By the time they got there, Sam was acting like a worried parent. He'd already given her a bag of all of her medication, warned her about what not to do, and even offered her a paper face mask to prevent her from getting the others sick. It was, indeed, a very long car ride.
But she couldn't help but notice how all of his concern dropped once Quinn followed Santana out of her house to greet the two. If he had a tail, she didn't think it would stop wagging. Any fool could tell that he was head-over-heels for Quinn Fabray. Well, except for Quinn, that was.
"Finally, we get to see the face behind the texts!" Santana joked, heading towards Rachel to hug her. She only backed away, reminding Santana that she was sick. She shook her head in understanding.
"Did you do something different with your hair, Quinn?" Sam tried to ask as casual as possible. "It looks a lot lighter."
Rachel looked at Santana with embarrassment for him, as they both laughed and shook their heads. Quinn, on the other hand, was totally oblivious.
"Yeah, Santana curled my hair. Whenever heat is applied, my hair gets really lighter. It's really weird." She laughed, going on about something she read in a beauty magazine. If any other guy, Sam would've changed the subject by now. Instead, he nodded and listened closely. "Do you like it?" she finally asked, heading for the house and leaving the three to follow her.
"You're beautiful," he whispered to himself.
"Maybe don't give her the impression that you're Kurt Hummel?" Rachel joked, referring to the only openly gay boy at their school who loved fashion and all that good stuff. "Oh well, better luck next time. I'll be ready at 8," she smiled, winking to him as the two followed Quinn into the house, leaving him standing by his car.
After spending an hour catching up, they decided to resort to the nitty-gritty details. Rachel rolled her eyes, knowing they'd start off prying for details about her current living situation. She was right once they silenced for a minute.
"So, Rachel, how's it like living with Finn Hudson?" Quinn asked. Rachel knew she'd be the first to ask, seeing that she was the one out of the group that actually pays attention to the gossip in the school. This meant that she knew way more about her future husband than Rachel would ever wish to. Anything that she'd heard about someone in their school usually came from Quinn's mouth.
"Have you seen him in all of his glory yet?" Santana winked. "You know, accidentally opened bathroom doors, revealing shower towels?"
"You guys are disgusting," she laughed. "Why would I ever want to see any of that?"
"Apparently he has big junk," Quinn winked, sharing gossip she'd probably heard from half the girls that Finn slept with on the cheer-leading squad.
"Okay, that does not put a good image in my head," Rachel placed her hands over her ears.
"Remember that girl Sydney that I was telling you guys about?" Quinn asked the two. They both shook their heads, remembering the stories of how Sydney did this and Sydney did that. She was the girl on the team that everyone else wanted to be like, especially Quinn.
"Your point?" Rachel asked, becoming annoyed without even thinking about it.
"Well, he was her first time and she said that he's really good in the sac." Quinn told the girls. "Like, really good." She exaggerated.
"Stop it, guys!" Rachel whined after Santana playfully elbowed her in the arm. "I don't want to have to hear any of that." "Why don't we talk about how Sam was basically drooling over you and you were totally oblivious the whole time, Quinn." She challenged Quinn, dragging her to the microphone and out into the spotlight.
"He made a comment about my hair, I'd hardly call that drooling," Quinn rolled her eyes.
"It was drooling, you're just really dumb," Santana laughed.
"Wow, thanks, guys," Quinn rolled her eyes. "Whatever, can we just watch a movie?"
All three girls agreed on watching Quinn's all-time favorite, boredom- go-to movie, the Notebook. Then, somewhere in between the time they put the movie on and when she sat on the couch, she blacked out into sleep.
She woke up with Quinn and Santana passed out on the side of her and the credits rolling on the screen. When she looked to the windows to see no daylight shining through the blinds, panic instantly rumbled through her chest. She jumped up and began desperately searching for her phone.
The fear that she overslept was confirmed when her phone showed that it was 9:15 pm. She also had at least 6 missed call from Sam and one from her mother, which she'd tend to later. First, she dialed Sam's number and waited for him to pick up.
"Rachel? Are you okay?" Sam asked as soon as he picked up. "I waited in the driveway for like an hour and when I knocked on the front door, no one answered."
"I'm fine, we accidentally fell asleep." She explained, trying to hear Sam over the loud noise coming from the background on his end. She assumed that Finn was playing the drums or his music again. "What's with all that noise?"
"You need to get here as soon as you can, Rachel," Sam yelled frantically over the phone. Then she heard something crash and a sigh leave Sam's side of the phone.
"Sam?" she called.
"Not the table, Finn. You're going to hurt yourself." Another crash sounded with no answer from Sam.
"Crap!" Sam exclaimed. "Rachel I have to go. Just, come back." He hung up.
He was right. By the time Rachel and Quinn piled into Santana's car they headed to the Hudson's home to find cars parked from two miles up the road. It was almost impossible for her friend to get to the driveway with all of the people crowding the place. When they'd finally found a clear spot to place the car in park, Santana turned to look at Rachel.
"A house party and you didn't invite us?"
"I probably wasn't even invited," Rachel admitted, getting out of the car.
"Do you need us to get down with you?" Santana asked, looking in her rear view mirror. If I stay here for long cars will close me in."
"I'm fine," she assured them. "I can look out for myself."
They both nodded with smiles. After they said their farewells, Rachel turned and headed toward the vast groups of people settled around the front lawn. Once she'd gotten close to the house, she could have sworn her headache was returning. She was only more sure of this when she opened the front door as the loud music and smell of alcohol enveloped her. Another thing that enveloped her; the massive over-crowding of bodies all around the dark house. The only lighting that could be identified were a few lamps around the room.
It took her a matter of minutes to shove her way past all of the dancing, grinding, and inappropriately touching people. Once she'd found the stairs, she climbed them as fast as she could. Moving past all of the people standing in the hallways drinking and looking at her as if she were a clown, she felt a wave of relief when she found the door to the room of which she was staying in. Turning the knob, she flung herself into the quiet space and slid down the door.
She only found herself flinging back up when she noticed the two moving figures under the covers in the bed; in her bed. The covers moved back and a girl and boy looked at her with horrified expressions. She knew that she'd caught them in mid-action.
"I have to sleep in this bed tonight!" she yelled at the two strangers. "All of my stuff is in here and I have to sleep in here!" She finally let go of the frustration she didn't know she'd been holding in. This was all completely outrageous. Her personal space had already been invaded and now her sleeping area had been compromised. She was pissed. This party was completely inconsiderate of Finn.
"Get out!" she yelled as the two teens scrambled to retrieve all of their clothes and made their escape. Walking behind them, she screamed to the people in the hall as well. "This room is off limits!"
What she wasn't expecting was for the response that she'd gotten. "Yes, Mrs. Hudson," all of the teenagers in hearing range replied, laughing at her in mockery as she looked at them with humiliation. Locking the door behind her, she ran downstairs in a rush to find Sam or to get out of there. Either one would work for her at this point.
The kitchen was where she found everyone, including Sam who appeared to be being tugged by Jessica Stanley into the other room. He flashed a look of desperation in her direction, but Rachel didn't notice due to her lingering confusion of walking in on a house party. This was when she was left alone, standing by a group of conversing teenagers crowding the kitchen. At first she was completely unnoticed and she wasn't too sad about it. By the smell of the room, most of the people around her were drunk, high, or both.
Then an argument appeared to break out between two familiar voices, and soon enough her name was dropped into the mix. People around her parted like the Red Sea before she could see Finn sitting on the kitchen counter top with a random blonde, drunkenly perched on his lap with a drink in her hands. There was one in his as well. She also noticed an angry-looking Sugar watching them closely with her arms crossed. Rachel could see the smoke coming from her ears if she looked close enough. From what she gathered, the whole scene looked mellow dramatic and it probably was. So, when she turned to make her exit was when she heard her name being called.
"Well, if I can't get to your cheating ass, why don't we see what your little wifey here thinks?" Everyone turned to Rachel with side whispers while Sugar moved behind her and shoved her forward. This only made Rachel want to leave even more. Instead, Sugar was the one to go, only after throwing her drink on Finn and the girl. "Jerk", she mouthed to herself in her angered fit. If the situation wouldn't have been so dramatic at hand, she would've laughed, remembering when Finn told his father that he loved Sugar.
It was a few minutes later when the situation became awkward to everyone else. The room then cleared out, leaving Finn and Rachel to face each other alone.
"Glad you could make it, Rachie," he grinned while hopping down from the counter top and drunkenly brushing his hand against her cheek.
Smacking it away, she pressed hers against his forehead. She sighed when she felt the heat. "What are you doing, Finn?" she asked, shaking her head.
"You're burning up," she informed him. "Have you even taken your medicine? Finn, a house party, drinking? What's wrong with you? All of these people can get sick." She scolded him.
"Oh, come on, Rachie. You just need to learn to live a little." He poured a small amount of vodka into a red solo cup and handed it to her. "Here, loosen up a bit."
"No, Finn, stop," she warned as she backed into a corner with him following. She felt uncomfortable, but still remained firm in her stance. She wouldn't let him catch onto any weaknesses.
"Or, maybe we can get you a hook-up. I have a few guy friends on the football team who were looking for one tonight," he smiled. Then his face lit up. Throwing the cup of vodka in the air, the clear liquid fell around them like rain. "You know what, screw that." He smiled at her in a seductive way. She backed away further, until there was nothing else but wall. Placing his hand on the wall behind her, he leaned over her frame and began playing with her hair. "We can get a start at that whole marriage thing. What do you say?"
"I bet you're still a virgin aren't you?" he asked, making circles around his finger with the end of her long brown locks.
"Get off of me," she pushed him away with all the force she could muster from deep within. He went flying backwards, surprising Rachel at how strong she was. He was also drunk and sick, so that made it a little less surprising. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
"What's wrong with me is that I don't want to end up with such a boring and frigid wife when I get older."
"I am neither of those things," she became defensive because the way he said those two words hurt worse than the time he made a play at her father's passing. But it was Finn of all people, so she learned not to be surprised anymore. Instead, she held her ground in the argument with a drunk guy. Somewhere deep within, she knew it was pointless, but she felt like she had to make her case heard. She felt like she had to win this one. Maybe in a desperate need to protect herself from his verbal abuse, she didn't know… "How dare you?"
"Everyone knows that you're a prude with those ridiculous reindeer sweaters and plaid skirts. I don't understand why you're trying to argue. I mean, have you even kissed anyone before?" he chuckled through his slurs.
"I'm not a prude," she clenched her jaw trying so hard to put him in the wrong. That always seemed to be her goal when they spoke. They were toxic, not even being able to be in the same room as each other without throwing sticks and stones.
"I'm headstrong; not like you would even understand what that means. I have restraint and the will power to say no to things if they aren't right to me," then she looked him up and down in a bit of a judging manner. "I don't think I can say the same for you. You can call me all you want, but at least I'm going to know where I am tomorrow morning. You know what; I'm surprised how you don't have all STDs, A-Z, with all the girls that you bring to bed, while you have a girlfriend." She crossed her arms waiting for the emphasis on the word "girlfriend" to affect him. It never did.
"At least I know how to live," he retaliated. "And, not have a stick shoved up my ass 24-7."
"Live?" she chuckled momentarily. "Finn, you have the flu and could be dead at any minute with the copious amounts of alcohol that you've consumed."
"See, that's exactly what I'm talking about," he argued, pointing to her stance. "Why do you always have to act like a little pretentious bitch?"
"You're drunk," she shook her head. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"No, I do. Trust me, I've known it from the moment that I met you," he assured her. "You try so hard to make sure that you come off as better than everyone else around you. That's why you have only three real friends. I don't know why you try so hard, we get it, you're a member of just about every club at school. You're stuck up, uptight, snobby, and you wouldn't know a good time if it bit you in the ass. Plus, you don't even have to try to judge others when you don't agree with their behavior or their lifestyles. You're mother's instilled it in you from an early age, so it's a default setting now. You think you're so superior to me just because you make better grades and have a job. You think that we're harsh and terrible to you, and that we're assholes who will go nowhere in life. But, the truth is, you're no different."
"That's not true," she mumbled, coming to a loss of words. She was stupefied as she felt the tears swell in her eyes. She wondered how long he was holding all of that back.
"I mean, you try so hard to convince yourself that you're nothing like your mother, but the more you try, the more the truth comes out. You're just as much of a heartless bitch as she is."
For a minute she believed every word he said. The words felt like she was drowning in ice cold water. She couldn't breathe. All she could think was that if Finn thought this about her, what did others think? Did she really come off to people with the characteristics he described? What he'd said was what she feared the most. Was she really like her mother?
She had to take time to think about what she would say, if she could even speak at all. The sobs building up in her throat made things difficult. She'd just been stripped, emotionally, of any defenses she may have had before he said all of those things. Sipping on his cup, he watched the tears fall down her face without a care in the world. This made things worse.
She was there for a few more minutes before the lingering silence got to her. When she decided there was nothing more to say, she took the cup of vodka from his hand and threw it in his face before making her exit. Stopping for no one, she slammed the door to her room behind her, locked it, and fell onto the bed to allow the tears and muffled sobs to fall into her pillow.
She stayed there for some time. It was long enough for the voices of people outside the room to become silenced and for the music downstairs to die down. When she finally lifted her head from the pillow, and her state of daydreaming, the clock by the bed read 4:00 am. She was surprised to see that it was so late and that she hadn't fallen asleep yet. But honestly, sleep wasn't in her vocabulary for at least a few more hours.
Once she'd changed the bed sheets and blankets, she decided to do something she hadn't done since she was a freshman. Pulling out a piece of paper from her book bag in the corner of her room, she began writing a letter to her dad. She spilled all that was on her mind and instantly felt the relief to have it out on paper. It was as if he could answer with the advice she always needed.
This method began as a coping strategy when he died. She was in a serious state of denial and she wanted a way to keep him close, even if it was physically impossible. It worked for a while. She'd write an entry every day, almost to the point where it turned into a journal.
Then, time began to heal old wounds and she soon forgot to write. Eventually, she abandoned the practice all together. That was, until tonight.
As the pencil moved against the paper, tears pooled onto the loose-leaf sheet. Her emotions fell where every tear drop stained. Her feelings didn't only root from the things that Finn said, it was the truth behind every word that hit her, as well as the ever-present reality of the turmoil her life was falling into that sent her off the end. She continued to work until there was nothing else to empty from her mind. By then, it was already 5:00 am.
Placing the pen and paper aside, she turned off the lamp and got in the position to fall asleep. This was until a noise erupted from the hallway. At first, she brushed it off, assuming it was just a drunken teenager. Her door was locked, so she wasn't too conscious of any lingering danger that could come to her. Then, the sound of glass shattering brought her sitting upright in the newly-changed sheets.
Slowly, she turned the knob to the lock of the door, lighting the hallway with her phone to identify the movement.
"Ow," the voice played out through the darkness, nearly causing her to jump to the roof. "That light is really bright," he chuckled drunkenly before falling to the ground.
Rolling her eyes, she turned her phone off and closed her door to leave Finn alone in the hallway once again. She knew he was at that about-to-puke stage in his drunkenness. She also knew that he'd need help seeing that he' already knocked over something in his attempt of stumbling up the stairs. She didn't care because he didn't deserve any help from her. So, she leaned against the closed door and clenched her eyes shut, trying to fight off the guilt she was feeling in her head. Then, she heard his gag reflexes going off, and against every word in her mind that convinced her otherwise, she was instantly at his side.
There was already a huge mess on the wooden floor beneath him, so she was careful not to kneel in it. She wrapped his weak arms around her shoulders and stood, trying to support all of the weight she physically could.
"Okay, I'm going to need you to walk, Finn," she instructed him. "I can't hold you all the way up. I need you to meet me halfway here." She strained a little less when he began to balance himself on his feet.
"Rachel, my head hurts really bad," he complained.
"When was the last time you took your medicine?" she asked.
"I don't remember," he admitted. "Six, maybe?"
"Well, we can't give you any right now," she told him. "You're full of alcohol and I don't want to risk any negative side effects."
"But it hurts," he argued, placing his hand over his head as they continued forward. When they got into the bathroom, she gently place him on the floor. "It really hurts, Rachel."
"I know it does," she replied, not referring to the same type of pain. Hers was more along the lines of emotional.
That's when he began to show signs of nausea. He began gagging before she dove to open the toilet seat for him. While he emptied the contents of his stomach, he moaned in pure discomfort. Without even noticing, she was rubbing comforting circles against his back. By the time his third round of puking was finished, it was obvious he'd had enough and didn't want to go any longer.
She was so sick of feeling sorry for him. He deserved this with the way he made her feel. Yet, here she was and she hated herself for it. She should've went to sleep earlier.
The intoxicating smell of alcohol seeped into her nose as a bit of her own nausea rose into her stomach. But, all the while, she sat there and rubbed his back while he got everything out. By the fifth round, there was nothing left to empty, so he rested his clammy forehead against the closed toilet seat.
Running a wash cloth under steaming water, she placed it onto Finn's forehead. He watched her with sleepy eyes as she gently patted in different areas on his face.
He sniffed his stuffy nose, ready to speak. "Thank you, Rachel." For the first time in her life, she viewed his smile as sincere. It almost threw her off completely, if it wasn't for the memory of earlier, or,the knowledge that he wouldn't remember any of this tomorrow morning.
"How are you feeling?" she asked, hoping she'd get an idea if he needed to vomit anymore.
"Tired," he admitted, with a low sigh.
"Then we should get you to bed," she suggested, standing up. This time, he used what little strength he had on his end to use the toilet seat to lift himself from the floor. Taking a huge weight off of her shoulders, he leaned against her frame a little as he walked on his own with her support. However, they continued to struggle forward.
"I can't move much more, Rach." He slurred on his words once more. No matter how much he upchucked, the alcohol was still flowing through his system and would be, at least for the next 24 hours. "My bones are aching."
"I just need you to take another few steps. We're almost there," she encouraged him.
By the time they got into the dark and cold bedroom, Finn released himself from the grasp on Rachel's shoulders. If anywhere else in the room, he would've fallen onto the floor. But, from where they were standing, his bed caught him.
Silently, she removed the shoes from his motionless feet and forcefully pulled the covers from under his muscular figure. After placing the covers over him and turning on the humidifier by the bed side, Rachel knew he was out cold when she placed the hot wash cloth against his forehead without a single stir.
With that, she knelt beside the bed and spoke with the smallest whisper. "You can't keep being this person, Finn. There has to be some sort of change. It has to be there, somewhere deep within you. If not for me, then for the future of this town; the future of your town. You have all of our hope in your hands."
It was two in the afternoon on the Saturday after. She'd settled herself on a wooden swing that sat in the backyard. With a cup of coffee in one hand, she divulged herself into the latest book she was reading.
The weather was nice, especially when she woke up this morning. So, she thought she'd take advantage of it. The cool spring breeze ran through her light blue cardigan as the flowers blew in the bushes around her, rendering it perfect for her nasal congestion. Serenity wasn't hard to find, especially with the sound of running water from the pool in front of her. It was heaven.
She'd been there, soaking in the silence for about 25 minutes. Then, with the sound of the backdoor closing, she heard footsteps. Looking up from her book, she was surprised to see Finn walking towards her.
Even though she was in no mood to communicate with him, she moved her legs off the swing to allow him to sit.
It was obvious that he was suffering from hangover symptoms, as well as those of the flu. He was pale, sported dark circles under his eyes, and she could still smell the alcohol radiating from his clothes.
She gave him the chance to speak, which probably wasn't a good examination of her own conscious beforehand, she had to admit. But, she didn't know what to say. All she wondered was if he even remembered anything from last night. That's when he spoke and answered her mental question.
"I don't really remember much about last night." She looked at him as he paused for her to speak. She waited for him to continue before going off on his sober self. She always tried to be one of those people who got the whole story before becoming angry. With Finn and her mother, this trait usually flew straight out the window.
"I'm having memory flashes, I guess that's what they're called." He pondered a moment before continuing. "I don't really know what happened, but there's an image of you in my mind that I can't shake."
She tensed up, looking to the pool as a substitute for having to face Finn. "What image?" she asked, her throat was tight.
"You were crying and I was just standing there," he reminded her of just what she wanted to forget. "I assume that you were crying because of something that I said to you… but I don't know what."
"The wedding was called off and I was shedding happy tears," she joked with a slight chuckle. She wanted to make light of the awkwardness around them at this point. Not every day, would you see the two of them on a wooden swing having a civilized conversation; well, civilized for the moment, that was.
"Rach…" he said, with a serious and concerned face. There he went again with that stupid nickname calling. It was the second time she'd heard it since last night. It was a step up from "Rachie", in which he'd called her last night, but it seemed a little personal to her. "Rach", was what her dad used to call her.
"Finn, you know what? It's fine, okay?" she assured him. "Let's just keep everything in the past. You don't remember any of it, so we don't need to bring it up. I don't feel like furthering last night's bickering and banter." She turned back to her book, only to find him sitting in the same spot, without a single movement. Instead, he was watching her.
"What?" she asked.
"Even if I don't remember it, you do and I'm not okay with that. You may want to forget everything, but I can't. I know that I did something wrong and I want to fix it."
"There's nothing to fix, Finn." She rolled her eyes. "You were just the one who happened to say what everyone was thinking. It's true, I am a prude, and uptight, and a heartless bitch just like my mom."
"Did I really say those things to you? Rach, I'm so sorry. I may say some pretty ugly things, but it's just because-"She stopped him, remembering this same conversation a few months ago.
"It's just because you're mad at your dad for putting you in this position, right?" she raised her eyebrow to find him surprised. "And you're taking it out on me?"
"You know what, Finn; it's just our thing, okay? It's already happened and you've already apologized when you made a play at my father's death. You apologized and I forgave you, and then you turned around and made me feel lesser again in front of all of your friends. Now, here we are again, me hearing your apology for yet another stupid thing you did which made me feel lesser yet again. I can already see the pattern forming here."
"We're going to bicker and argue, you're going to say things, I'm going to say things, and then you're going to do stupid things to hurt me again; whether that's being out all night with different women or just making me feel like an idiot by your cold insults that, for some reason get to me so much when I should be so used to them at this point." She explained further, feeling the tears again.
"That's going to be our marriage in a nutshell, and you know what, you're going to be able to get away with it too." She informed him.
"How can you say that?" he asked, looking at her with disbelief.
"We may have a small rank in politics, being the governing families of a small town, but we're still considered royalty. You're considered royalty as the future mayor of this town. This means that you can do whatever and get away with it because you're actually worth something and people won't be able to judge you."
"You really think that?" he asked, through gritted teeth. "Are you blind? I already have a world of judgement on my shoulders. It doesn't exactly help when you physically hear the list of people who tell your father that you're not good enough and that your younger brother is better for the position. What about what I want? What about the life that I planned for myself? I didn't want this. I didn't want any of this. I wanted to go to college, become a professional football player, maybe even get married if I actually felt like it. Now, we're here? All of my dreams are going down the drain and to make things better, I have all of these responsibilities being thrown at me, left and right. Finn, you're going to be doing this, Finn do that next time, Finn make sure that you don't forget to do this. I already feel the exhaustion. It's not exactly the piece of cake that you think it is. I have a town in my hands, Rachel."
Her face crumbled into the same position it did when the doctors told her mother that her dad wouldn't survive. Her throat tightened even more when she recalled what her mother told her on the staircase that Sunday after she found out about this whole arrangement.
"At least you're actually worth something around here!" she exclaimed after choking on a sob. "I'm a show. That's it. That's all that I was born to be, according to my lovely mother, who you so happened to compare me to last night. I can't think for myself, I can't be myself. Hell, if they could find a way to breath for me, I'm sure they'd do that too. I have no control over anything, whatsoever. Finn, I don't want any of this either. I wanted to be independent, I wanted to be either a Broadway star or a Doctor. But, here I am as well."
The tears ran like rain, when she could finally sit down and accept her fate, even if she had a backup plan that only her and her friends knew about. That still wouldn't guarantee success. What if she got caught or her plans got spoiled for some reason? There'd be no out. This caused most of the tears she had now, realizing that the life set for her was more miserable than she had imagined until now.
"At least you have a purpose, and something to be recognized for, put in the town's records for." Rachel continued. "All I'm good for in this town is smiling, waving, flashing around a huge diamond ring on my finger, and getting knocked up as many times as I physically can before there are enough children to pass everything to."
"And, whether anyone else believes it or not, I have so much to give in this world. I believe that I am truly capable of accomplishing something big, and i'm being held back, almost as if there were handcuffs around my wrists. It's so painful."
"Lima's doomed," Finn admitted his biggest fear. Rachel chimed in, "I know."
"Out of all the people and the founding families, we had to be the ones…" he continued.
"And what makes it worse is that we're toxic together," Rachel spoke out loud what they were both thinking. "We can't even be in the same room for a minute without fighting and saying hateful things. We're the definition of dynamite and box of matches."
"What are we going to do?" he asked, looking to her as if she had the million dollar answer.
"I don't know," she replied.
He sighed, leaning forward and placing his head into his hands. After rubbing his eyes for a short while, he sat up and returned to facing her.
"Let's just say that everything's going to be okay, no matter what fears we have." He told her. She hesitated, but eventually gave in.
"Everything's going to be okay," she tried to convince herself.
"Everything's going to be okay," he smiled for a short moment before making his farewell known and getting up to walk away. She watched him place his hands in his pockets as he headed for the house.
It was often said that after talking things out, you were supposed to feel better about the situation or problem. This wasn't the case for Rachel. If anything, she felt worse. These feelings heightened when she watched Finn walk away as if not a care in the world was on his mind. This only lead her to one conclusion.
"Everything's not okay," she whispered.
Closing the back door in front of him, Finn leaned against it and closed his eyes. He knew the harsh truth, but never wanted to admit it to himself until now.
"Everything's not okay," he whispered.
So, this ends chapter 6. ( I hope a really long chapter makes up for my long absence from the world of Fanfic!) I'm so sorry I've been gone for so long,guys! I can't believe it's been almost a month! I will try my hardest not to make that a reoccurring pattern with this story. I've just been so busy lately trying to juggle school and work at the same time, which left me no time to write. It's crazy how much work and stress I've had to endure during my absence! But, i'm back and really hoping to work on Chapter 7 this weekend and get it up before Labor Day. Hopefully somewhere around that time frame will be possible. It all depends on how my mind and creativity will decide to work during that process of actually putting the ideas and story into actual words on my computer from my head. (That's one of the perks of being gone for so long. I've had a lot of time to brainstorm and come up with things that i definitely want to happen in this story!) Suggestions are also always welcomed! And on a good note, my mind is on a no-writer's-block role, so fingers crossed that I don't jinx it anytime soon! I know exactly what i want to happen and i am so excited for you guys to read it! Also, should i mention that I was crying with Rachel during this chapter? I guess i'm a cry baby, but i was really in my feelings. It doesn't help when you have a whole Spotify playlist of sad music reserved for sad times in your story...Lol, you probably all think i'm weird... Oh well. Anyways, lastly, i'd really like to thank all of you for your copious amounts of patience, and positive words about my writing and story! I promise i will try not to disappoint any of you in the future! As always, I really hope you enjoyed this chapter and hope to see you soon! :)