February 04, 2012

(Quinn)

When Rachel mentioned the project about writing an original song, I thought it was really awesome. What I didn't expect was for her to come up with some weird ideas. She wrote music about hairbows, and the saga of her birth. A horror! Rachel wasn't understanding the very meaning of the original song, so I introduced a verse from a poem I made.

"What have i done/ Wish i could run/ Away from this ship going under/ Just trying to help/ Hurt everyone else/ Now i feel the weight of the world is on my shoulders."

I didn't want to explain the circumstances that led me to write such things. It was something I scribbled in my notebook over the vacations while absorbing the fact that I had given up my daughter, my Beth, for adoption. Rachel accepted my silence, and said she really liked that. It would be the beginning of a song full of drama, passion and other strong feelings. She said this with so many gestures and grimaces.

On Friday we started working hard on the next verses. We wrote and rewrote several sentences within a primal rhythm until we came up with something like this:

"All the things you can do when you are good enough/ but all that I touch tumbles down/ cause my best intentions/ keep making a mess of things/ I Just wanna fix it somehow/ but how many times Will it take/ for me to get it right."

We were developing the song when Mercedes burst into the auditorium along with Artie. They were talking on the phone, and then they dropped the bombshell: Santana had quit cheerios and was hosting a choir-only celebration party at her house for the weekend. Rachel panicked. She explained that Dr. Juan Lopez traveled to a Congress in Washington D.C. and trusted his daughters to behave, so he left no one to watch them, not even Shelby. I panicked because without Santana or Brittany, our presentation at regionals with the cheerios would be jeopardized: I still had the project of getting a scholarship.

I made notes in my journal about it. If I played right at McKinley, the scholarship would be mine. Then I could go to a college, even if it was Louisville University, where Sylvester had a deal. Once I had the scholarship in my hands, I could come out of the closet, get a girlfriend, earn my degree, and be happy. But before that, I had more than a year ahead of me in which I would have to put up with Sam Evans, Lima, the cheerios, McKinley High, my homophobic family, and everything else.

That's why Santana dropping the cheeios affected me so much. I couldn't be captain of a failing team, not really. I got angry and went to take it out on her. I even pushed her: how could she do that to the team? Santana pushed me back, over and over until I fell to the ground. Then she said with a strange calm:

"I have to study for Stuyvesant's test and I need to give up an extra activity. Between cheerios and choir, I'll stay in New Directions."

That same day I learned the reason for Santana's sudden decision: Brittany was moving to Los Angeles. There was really no reason for Santana to stay in Lima if she had a safe escape route.

I was envious. I wish I had a chance, any chance, no matter how small, to get out of Lima and leave all this hell behind without Sue Sylvester's help. I just wanted to get out of this mediocrity and be myself.

...

I hated not having a car. Lima was a big enough city to have an elementary urban transportation system, but it only worked for getting around the main avenues and serving the refinery employees who fueled the city's economy. All this is to say that there was no bus near the street in Lima Heights where I lived and I was on foot. It was a good thing Mercedes had a car and we were still good friends, even though we drifted apart a bit after I moved back to my mom's house. She was willing to go a little out of her way to give me a ride when I couldn't get my mom's car.

Pause for an explanation about the geography of the city. Lima Heights is a lower middle class neighborhood, inhabited by blue workers. Lima Heights Adjacent, which Santana talks about so much, is the neighboring neighborhood inhabited by the poorest people in the city. It is the outskirts of the city proper.

Puck and Sam became my neighborhood neighbors. But Sam had a bicycle and hitchhiking every day with Puck was out of the question. I wasn't afraid of falling into his clutches. After I came out to myself, it didn't affect me anymore. Being seen with Puck would be bad for my image, and for the relationship I needed to sustain until I got the scholarship. So if I was going to ask someone to give me a ride to that liberation party at the Berry-Lopez house, it would be Mercedes Jones.

...

Mercedes picked me up half an hour late. Sam and Artie were already in the car. I greeted my friends and kissed my boyfriend on the lips. Since the two glorious nights I had spent with Claudia, it was getting harder and harder to keep pretending to like men. My body wanted another female body: it was a question of connection and skin. So I tried to get back to reality, to refocus on my social life, cheerios, popularity and the scholarship that would get me out of that town: it was how I could pretend with Sam. We were almost an hour late and yet we were the first, not counting Brittany, to arrive at the pool house party.

"Hi friends!" Rachel replied a little too cheerfully for my liking. It seemed that she, Santana and Brittany had been drinking for a while.

"Hi guys!" Santana was dragging a huge bucket full of beer and wine coolers. There was a bottle of tequila on the counter. "Don't notice. I had to soften Rachel up ahead of time."

"You got your sister drunk?" Mercedes was perplexed.

"Who says I'm drunk?" Rachel protested. Santana turned up the music and the first thing Rachel did was pull Mercedes to the center of the ballroom/dance floor. She started dancing like a madwoman. It was kind of funny.

"Are you served Quinn?" Santana offered me a bottle of wine cooler. Bad memories. I tried some beer in the little can Sam opened. I never liked the taste.

"Do you have any soda?"

"In the minibar. There's vodka too, if you want to mix it."

"Are you going to offer vodka? What about your father?"

"I have a cousin over 21 who was very grateful to do this favor." I vaguely remember this cousin at Hiram's funeral. He was the one who kept talking to Mercedes, if I'm not mistaken. I think this cousin repaired motorcycles.

This cousin did a fine job judging by the arsenal available for the party. I don't know what Santana's plans were, but the alcohol was enough to make everyone leave the party on all fours. Lest I be a moral nag, I helped myself to a wine cooler and made plans to empty that little bottle very slowly.

Kurt, his friend Blaine from the new school, Tina and Mike arrived next. Puck showed up with Lauren. Finn arrived alone. Soon the party, even with a select few from the choir, became lively. Almost everyone was drinking heavily, except me, Kurt and Finn. I mean, I was still nibbling, as was Kurt, but Finn was only on the soda because, the hero said, someone needed to take people home and keep the party safe.

Drunk Sam was more clingy than I could stand. He would kiss me and whisper in my ear from time to time that we should take advantage of the pool house room and have a quickie. Interestingly, we only had sex once, and now he was standing there all loose, thinking the avenue had to be left permanently open. It wasn't like that, and I'd have to put him in place, take him to the water bath, maybe only have sex once a month. When I could get rid of Sam's super-sized lips, I danced a little in the company of Mike, Puck, Tina and Mercedes.

Brittany danced sensually around Artie's chair, and I didn't understand what their relationship was. Officially, they were still together, but everyone saw the kiss on the lips Brittany gave Santana the day Hiram Berry died. They got close again, and if they haven't slept together yet, it was about to happen. The craziest of them all was Blaine, who danced around shaking his curly hair like there was no tomorrow. Until then, I had only known him as the soloist on our opposing team and Kurt's probable romantic interest. I liked him. He wasn't a boring, overbearing, lord of reason, like Kurt Hummel was.

Rachel started yelling to spin the bottle after saying something to Finn. I think they got into a fight. My heart raced because it was the kind of banter that only worked when everyone was drunk. Santana stayed out of it. She said she didn't want to risk having to tongue kiss her own sister. I didn't want to join in either, because I wasn't drunk enough to enjoy the mess and not care about the consequences.

Everyone else was laughing and enjoying the moment. Puck spun the bottle and kissed Tina. Kurt and Mercedes exchanged a slightly longer smooch. Brittany spun and it fell into Sam. Santana went crazy with jealousy, while Artie smiled. I didn't move a hair. I wasn't even jealous. But when Rachel spun the bottle and landed on Blaine, I held my breath and closed my eyes. I did everything I couldn't to repeat Santana. But that was my will. When I saw that Rachel and Blaine were really enjoying that kiss, I had to control myself not to show any signs of it.

Rachel, as usual, found a way to grab the mic and did a karaoke number with Blaine. Their voices matched very well. Finn didn't like it and was sick with jealousy. In that case, I was sympathetic. He announced he was leaving, and asked who would like to go with him. Mike and Tina agreed, because they said they needed to do one thing: it was obvious they wanted to have sex. Santana convinced Finn to drag Artie along, since he was almost in an alcoholic coma, so she could have Brittany all to herself. Puck and Lauren also left. The party dwindled from these first few outings, and people dispersed.

"Have you seen Blaine around?" Kurt asked me when I was also seriously considering grabbing Mercedes (and Sam) to leave.

"No." I looked at my surroundings. Sam was sitting on the couch so drunk he couldn't get his head out of Mercedes' lap. Santana, Brittany, Rachel and Blaine were absent. My heart raced with an intuition. "Come with me!" I pulled Kurt by the hand.

"Why are we going to the main house?"

"Because the kitchen light is on and the door is wide open and I have a pretty good intuition where Rachel and Blaine might be."

We met up with Santana and Brittany necking on the stairs like there was no tomorrow. Brittany was already bra-less, even. I, without the slightest embarrassment, interrupted.

"What the fuck, Fabray, what do you want?" Santana squawked.

"Where's your sister?"

"I don't know. I think she's with Blaine... I don't remember and I don't care."

"What if she's doing the wrong thing with Blaine?" Kurt appealed.

Santana's eyes widened and she bumped up the stairs with Kurt's help. I left Brittany behind. I left everyone behind, and I was the first one to Rachel's room. No one there. I was confused. I ran down the stairs, I was tense. Santana started yelling things that I didn't understand, much less pay attention to. I circled the big house quickly until I noticed the half-open door to the TV room, the one with the huge couch. I heard a murmur inside and opened the door. Rachel was bra-less, lying on the couch, and being kissed by an also shirtless Blaine. They were at second base and ready to go the next base.

"What's going on here?" Kurt shouted behind me.

Rachel was startled and then started laughing. Blaine fell to the side and went wide-eyed.

"Zon happened zada." Rachel slurred her words. She was so drunk that she could no longer have any sense of reality. I'd say she was close to an alcoholic coma.

"Just a few kisses." Blaine grinned sheepishly.

"Time to go home!" Kurt took Blaine by the arm, lifted him with a strength I didn't think he had, and left dragging the drunk guy.

"Rachel!" Santana came in late, by which time I was already at her sister's side helping her up. "What's going on here?"

"Your little sister almost lost her virginity to Blaine."

"That bastard abused her?" Santana said slurred and angry.

"No. Just relax, okay?" I put Rachel's arm on my shoulder. "I think we'd better call this party off for good."

I practically carried Rachel into her room and put her on the bed.

"Blaine is so cool..." She giggled as I took off her shoes. "Better kisser than Finn..." More giggles.

"You better get some sleep." I rummaged through her closet for a blanket.

"What are you doing?" Santana caught up with us again. What a pushy drunk she was. "Are you stealing things?"

"Looking for a blanket for your sister." I said firmly and tried not to take offense.

"In the last drawer." Santana relaxed when she understood that I wasn't there to harm Rachel or her.

I assumed she was referring to the dresser. I pulled open the drawer and took out a pink blanket. I covered Rachel who soon snuggled in. She was already asleep.

"Put the blanket on her feet." Santana said still watching us from the doorway.

"What?"

"Put the smaller blanket on her feet!" She repeated with more emphasis. "Rachel has cold feet and she's not wearing socks."

I did as Santana ordered. I went back to the dresser and saw that there was indeed a smaller blanket, the kind you use to watch movies while sitting on the couch. I opened the blanket and put it on Rachel's feet. I was tempted to stay for a while, but it wouldn't look good. So I just left the room and turned off the lights.

"Do you need anything?" I asked Santana.

"No... just get the hell out of here!"

Always kind. Santana hated me, and makes that increasingly clear. I went back to the pool house. Sam and Mercedes were asleep on the couch. Kurt had dragged Blaine back to his house, and I wouldn't worry about Brittany and Santana. Anyway, there was no room for me, and I couldn't just take Mercedes' car and go home. I went back to the main house. I wouldn't dare go into the bedrooms. I remembered how that couch in the TV room was comfortable. I cuddled up there.

I woke up to the sound of doors opening and closing upstairs. I could hear the gurgling noises, but I didn't want to go upstairs to check. Instead, I went to the kitchen to look for some ingredients and medicine. Luckily for my friends, I knew a few recipes to help with the hangover. Unfortunately, I had to learn them because of the countless little drinks my mom liked to take at the end of the day. I walked over to the pool house. I hadn't noticed yesterday what a mess that place was. I found Sam and Mercedes already awake with guilty looks on their faces. Whatever happened, I ignored it.

"Come have coffee."

I commanded and turned my back to them without asking any questions. Inside the main house, the first one down the stairs was Brittany.

"You slept here?" Brittany looked confused. She certainly didn't remember much from the night before. "Did you guys sleep here?" she asked again as she saw Sam and Mercedes behind me.

"No one was able to drive." That was an explanation that didn't require much argument. "Here... that juice is good for hangovers. I just couldn't find the aspirin..."

"Santana knows where they are... or Rachel..." Brittany and the others drank the pitcher of detox juice I made with gusto.

Santana was the next one downstairs. She was wearing sunglasses indoors! Bizarre.

"You're still here..." She made a disgusted face when she saw me.

"I made a juice that helps with the hangover. But if it had aspirin it would help more. Do you know if there are any here?"

"You're in a doctor's house, Fabray. Of course, there are aspirin in the medicine box next to the first aid kit..." Santana opened a cabinet door in the TV room and took out a bottle with the medicine. I would never have guessed that medicine was kept there.

Everyone shared my prescription except Rachel.

"My sister is in a bad shape..." Santana commented as if she had heard my thought. "She's never been drunk before. Not even when we were in London." The last piece of information didn't make sense to me. What was so great about this trip to London?

"Do you want me to bring her some juice and aspirin?" I offered.

Santana stared at me and frowned. I should have known she was always suspicious when she thought I was too helpful. Santana had never trusted me, and she had every reason to.

"I deal with my sister, Fabray. I think you should leave, unless you want to do some cleaning."

I had no problem helping clean the pool house. But I had to remember that I was Mercedes' ride, and she didn't want to stay another minute in that house. It was a shame... I really wanted to and could help.

February 06, 2012

(Quinn)

"Q!" The coach shouted at me. It was six- fifty in the morning, it was bone-freezing cold, and I'd have to work out cucumbers.

"Amy." I yelled to my current number two. "Run the training, please."

I followed in heavy steps to the coach's office. I wasn't in the mood to listen to her after an atypical weekend where I went to an alcoholic party at the Berry-Lopezes house, slept on a couch, got cold, and woke up the next day with a sore body in a house full of people sick from a hangover.

"Sit down, Q." I hated hearing the coach's calm, venom-filled tone of voice. I obeyed. "Santana Lopez and Brittany Pierce have left the team."

"Yes ma'am, I'm aware."

"I figured you would be, since you're close to both of them. Santana gave back her uniform and said she was going to try out for another school."

"That's a fair reason, coach."

"Turns out that girl of undefined ethnicity stayed in the choir despite such studies. Worse, she made our best dancer do the same."

"Do you want me to convince them to come back?"

"No, Q. Their case made me institute new rules for acceptance into cheerios. Anyone involved in other clubs at school, especially choir, will no longer be accepted."

"Coach, do you want me to leave the choir?"

"The example starts with the captain."

"But I can't!" I stood up from my chair. "I've made commitments. Besides, I'm fully aware that I can juggle all the activities I set out to do. I'm captain of the cheerleaders, I'm in the choir and I still work to have my own money. I can handle everything I set out to do. It's not fair for you to ask me to leave what I consider to be my leisure time."

"Very moving, but my decision is irrevocable and without exception. If you want to stay with us and secure your scholarship next year, drop out of the choir."

"I need to think about it." I said firmly.

"You have until the end of the week. Now get the hell out of here."

My mind went into overdrive. My choice was obvious. I needed the scholarship to get out of Ohio. But what a pain to leave the choir at a good time when I was at reasonable peace with my friends from the choir, including Rachel. We were doing a song together, for Christ's sake. I ran to the locker room. I needed to think, punch a few locker doors. Anything. Instead, I stayed quiet in a secluded, hidden corner to cry alone. A few minutes later, I saw that someone came in. I looked at the clock. Practice wasn't over yet. I heard familiar voices and laughter. Brittany and Santana. I remembered that they still had to empty their lockers, but I didn't move from my discreet hiding place. I didn't want to talk to them, much less be noticed.

"You know?" Brittany began. "I think Blaine is going to date Rach. They fit so well at the party."

"Britt, Blaine is gay!"

"No he isn't. I would have felt that way."

"Your gaydar sucks, Britt!" Santana laughed loosely.

"But I would have sworn Blaine was all smitten with Rachel..."

"How could you not sense that Blaine is gay? Even drunk me could tell."

"Gee, my gaydar is pretty good. I was the one who figured out Cherrie was gay."

"No... you found out because you saw her trying to kiss me at that party."

"See. My gaydar is perfect. You can take a test."

"Um... let's see..." Santana looked like he was having fun. "Mercedes?"

"That's an easy one. She likes men even though she's never dated!"

"She has dated... or almost..."

"What do you mean?"

"She's flirting with my cousin Julio."

"Wow!" Brittany cheered. "Send another one!"

"Fabray?" My ears perked up when Santana said my name.

"Quinn is gay!" My heart raced at Brittany's response. She couldn't have known. I never gave any signs at school, and I always acted like the straight queen. Hell, I got pregnant and hooked up with three popular boys. How could she tell I was gay?

"Quinn is, at best, a repressed girl who must contain her desires by fucking guys like Puck."

"And what's the difference?"

"Good question, Britt. Well, she always stares at the girls in the locker room, and she's been picking on my sister forever. At first, I thought it was because of Finn. Then I thought it couldn't be just that, that Quinn must have a hard-on for my sister. But the way she gets with Sam, then I thought I was overthinking it."

"I still think she's super gay."

"Yeah. What about Rachel?" Santana continued with the little game.

"That's an easy one. She likes men, specifically Finn."

"Right and wrong!" Santana replied and my heart raced for the second time.

"What do you mean?" That was the question I was mentally asking along with Brittany.

"Rachel dated a girl in London last summer. And not just any girl: she dated a beautiful one, who had tattoos and everything. I bet if we had stayed in London for another week, Rachel would have lost her virginity to that girl."

"Stop lying San."

"It's not a lie! I don't remember her name well... she looks like Lauren... Laura... Anyway, we went to the Reading festival with the kids of my dad's friend. And there was this girl who was their friend. All I know is that on the second day of the festival, what do I saw? Rachel and the girl trying to tie a knot with their tongues. They stayed together for the rest of our vacation in London."

My blood boiled and I couldn't think straight. I was dizzy. All this time I'd been holding myself back, thinking that Rachel was incapable of looking at another girl differently, that she could never see me the way I wanted her to. Why not me? Why didn't I get the chance? I waited for Santana and Brittany to leave before I emerged from my hiding place and screamed into the locker room with my face sunk into the towel.

Rachel had no problem being with girls, but she could never be with me. Our history was terrible: the slushies, the swearing, the fights, the threats. And the fact that my love, at that moment, was one-sided and secret. But who can ask for rationality from someone in the middle of a jealous crisis? I wanted to take it out on someone. I walked into the rehearsal room and saw myself sitting at the piano with the lyrics we were developing in hand.

"Quinn!" The girl in question said in a jovial and cheerful tone. "I've made some adjustments to the first part of the song and I think it deserves another verse to intersperse with the chorus..." She stopped when she saw me panting. "What is it? Did something happen? Did you have a fight with Sam?"

"Why would I have to have had a fight with Sam to be angry? Oh yes! I remembered I'm a Barbie. I only make sense if I have a Ken!"

"Quinn?"

"You know what Rachel? You're not the center of the universe. You stand there giving your blood for a ridiculous song thinking it can bring Finn back into your arms. But you want to know the truth? You'll never get him back!"

"Do you still want him? Be honest, Quinn."

"What if I do?" I lost my senses.

"You're going to have a good fight ahead of you." Rachel got up from the piano and approached me, she looked determined but still showed fear.

"Why? Why bother fighting if in the end you're going to leave this town? You're going to live your dream on Broadway, while I'm going to stay here being a public school teacher, maybe married to Finn, and have a bunch of his kids."

"It's not going to be like that!"

"No? So you're going to stay in Lima with the love of your life?" My hysterical laughter mixed with my tears. "Wake up, Rachel!"

"Finn and I are meant to be together!"

"Finn in New York? A talentless idiot in the big city? You'll never do it right! You can't have everything you want."

Rachel gathered her things.

"I'll finish the song myself!" The voice came out hardened and she left the room. I still stood inside trying to catch my breath. What had I done? How stupid of me to have gotten out of control like that.

...

February 08, 2012

(Quinn)

I seem to have gone under anesthesia. I had to digest the revelation about Rachel, of my dumbness and cowardice. But I still had one session in the choir before I was forced to leave them. I wanted to say goodbye by the end of the week, when I would have to give Sylvester an answer.

At the day's meeting, I sat next to my boyfriend and was surprised when Rachel stood up.

"I know you turned down my proposal to do an original song, that my idea was ridiculous. Yet I made a song with Quinn Fabray. One that says a lot of what I'm feeling right now. It's okay if you don't want an original song, but I'd like you to hear this one." Rachel nodded to Brad. "Santana?" Her sister got up and positioned herself in the chair next to her.

Rachel began to sing beautifully with Santana doing the harmonizing. My heart raced.

I also noticed that she made some changes. Instead of "All the things you can do when you are good enough", it changed to "What can you do when your good isn't good enough". And she added the verse: "So I throw up my fists, throw a punch in the air/ And accept the truth that sometimes life isn't fair/ Yeah I'll send out a wish, yeah I'll send up a prayer/ Then finally, someone will see, how much I care".

I tried to hold back my tears. At the end of the performance, I saw that Finn seemed moved by her words. Idiot. I can't speak for Rachel, but the lyrics concerned me. It wasn't even a love song, but one of lament. I saw the way Rachel looked at the asshole. How could I let him win like that? Instead of resigning myself for the umpteenth time, a realization came. My time was running out, so were my chances. I decided I would do it differently. I needed to face the fact that friendship with Rachel would never be enough. I needed to set out to conquer. Either I tried to fight for my own happiness, or I would be frustrated for the rest of my life. What did I have to lose? A scholarship to Louisville? A university I never dreamed of going to? What was I thinking?

While the rest of the choir perked up at the idea of performing an original song, I left the room and went straight to Sue Sylvester's office.

"Q?" The coach said without even taking her eyes off her notebook. "Have you thought carefully about who to choose?"

"Yes, Coach. That's why I'm here to hand over the job."

"What?" Sylvester finally raised her head and stared at me in astonishment. I hadn't expected that answer. "Do you really realize all you're going to lose, Fabray? Your scholarship, your chance to get out?"

"I do... unfortunately I do. But I choose the choir! I'll give back the uniform tomorrow morning."

I turned my back and walked out of the office. I heard the sound of something heavy being dropped inside the room. Regionals were in nine days and there was a lot of work to be done: a new song, rehearsals, choreography, arrangements with the band. Plus... there was a heart to conquer.