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Chapter Six:
Know All About Your Reputation.
Rachel sat back against her pillows, journal open on her lap with the pro/con list resting on top, as she replayed the conversation that had followed her arrival home the night before.
"Hello, Quinn. Not really, although I do give you a ten on the dismount."
"Daddy!" she'd hissed, while Quinn blushed as red as her cheerleading uniform.
"What? That was a compliment," he said as he boosted Quinn upright, making sure she was steady on her feet before withdrawing his arms, "So, I thought you said you were going out with a friend from your singing class?"
"She did!" Quinn blurted out before Rachel could say anything, "But I was there with some friends too, and it just made sense for me to bring Rachel home. I live closer to here than, uh..."
"Rebekah," she supplied, hoping it came off as impatient, like she'd already told Quinn more than once.
"Yeah, Rebekah. I was going this way and she wasn't."
"But Rebekah lives on the next street."
"Yes, but she was going back to her b–" Rachel shook her head a little and subtly pointed at herself. It was no Morse code and there was no guarantee Quinn would even get the gesture. "Girlfriend's place."
She had!
They were obviously in sync and destined to spend the rest of their lives together!
She didn't need Quinn to say "Easy, tiger!" again to know she was getting ahead of herself, though; maybe Quinn was just picking up on the first syllable because Rachel was a girl.
…Or maybe she automatically associated Rachel with the word girlfriend now!
That would be wonderful, but if she was being realistic it was probably the first one – and she'd never know anyway, what with Quinn still being so reluctant to take them seriously.
"But Rachel doesn't even like Breadstix."
Oh no, her daddy had asked a question and she had been too busy thinking to help Quinn with the answer.
The blonde handled it smoothly, however, "I'm not surprised; there aren't really very many good options for vegetarians. I enjoy their spaghetti with tomato and smoked bacon sauce, but then again, I'm perfectly happy with being an omnivore."
"Rebekah was in the mood for pasta and Breadstix is very near the LCAC," Rachel supplied, keeping it vague because she was never any good at lying to her parents, especially her daddy.
"I see. Well, thank you for bringing her home safely, Quinn. Were you coming in? It's a little cold to be standing on the doorstep for as long as you have. Especially without a coat," he chided with a parental glare.
"I was just… you knew we were out here?"
"The security light went on fifteen minutes ago," she saw Quinn wince at her oversight, "And when you didn't come in, your dad turned the sound down so we'd be able to hear if the car alarms went off again. We heard you two gossiping out here instead."
"We were not gossiping!" she said indignantly. She didn't gossip; she was only too aware of how hurtful it was when others gossiped about her.
"No, we weren't gossiping," Quinn said and the hint of a smile on her lips had Rachel concerned about what was coming next. "We were just debating, in the spirit of constructive criticism, the solo performances of our fellow Glee Club members last week and how they may or may not have been influenced by their recent life choices."
Her daddy laughed, "So, fancy gossiping?"
Quinn grinned at him while Rachel rolled her eyes, because Quinn was once again slandering her good name.
"Well, come inside and do it; I'm turning into an icicle and I've only been standing here two minutes."
She was still shivering but had mostly stopped noticing the cold now. The last five minutes kissing Quinn had certainly warmed her up all over, and now the embarrassment of being nearly caught out by her daddy was doing a fine job of heating her up. Still, she knew he wouldn't go now until she went in – or at least bundled up considerably – and he'd also wonder why they were preferring to stay outside and talk when they could talk in the kitchen or the entertainment room in the basement or her… bedroom.
Suddenly, she wasn't so against the idea of inviting Quinn in after all and she looked to her, about to ask.
Quinn must have read the question in her eyes; Rachel read the No back just as easily and then she was regretfully shaking her head as she spoke to her daddy.
"I feel rude turning down two invitations in one day, sir, but I'm afraid I have to get home," she looked at her watch for effect as she added, "I've already stayed talking longer than I should have."
"Rachel has that effect on people," her daddy said fondly.
Rachel smiled nervously, because in her experience it was usually the exact opposite – she had the effect of making the people she was talking to leave as soon as possible – and Quinn knew that, obviously, because only a short time ago she'd been the one leaving.
So she was surprised when Quinn gave her an indulgent smile instead of covering the truth with a carefully blank face, "She does."
Rachel smiled down at her toes… wait, were they turning blue?!
"But, I really must go now. It was nice meeting you again, sir."
Rachel was impressed when she held her hand out for a formal handshake; not even Finn had done that when he'd met her fathers that one time. He'd high-fived them instead! Which they'd both found hilarious once he was gone.
Her daddy shook Quinn's hand, saying, "You too, Quinn. Drive safely."
Quinn then turned to her and for a second Rachel thought she was about to be hugged goodbye. Quinn even took a tiny step closer, arms shifting by her sides in readiness, but for the first time since the door had opened, Quinn lost her cool, and shuffled her feet uncomfortably as she babbled out, "So, uh, goodnight, Rachel. I mean, goodbye. Um, take care. It was nice seeing you."
Rachel looked down at the hand thrusted out towards her with a frown that tried to turn into a giggle at the absurdity of shaking the hand that had been on her boob just an hour ago.
She bit her lip against it – giggling would be inappropriate – and followed Quinn's lead. She wasn't so sure this way of saying goodbye was any more discreet than a hug would have been, because surely her daddy could see how much she didn't want to let go of Quinn's warm hand now that she had it.
An extra tight squeeze reminded her that she did in fact have to let go, and so she did, letting her hand fall back to her side as she offered a polite nod, "Goodbye, Quinn. I'll see you Monday."
Monday, which was still a whole day away.
She still had nineteen hours to go before she could see Quinn again. Or not see her – because she wasn't allowed to look at her… she had to do something about that rule at the very least – but just be in the same general vicinity as her.
She didn't know what time Quinn left church on Sundays; Rachel's family only went to temple on the holy holidays and even that was on Saturdays usually and they never really lingered for long. Temple, while somewhere they were never turned away from, was still somewhere the Berry family had never been made to feel exactly welcome in either. But there was a good chance that she was already out on her date with Finn.
Where might they be? Breadstix? The movies? Putt-Putt Golf? Strolling hand in hand through a park? They could be doing anything, but it probably wasn't sitting in the backseat of Quinn's car, hiding from the small-minded residents of Lima.
That was actually a good thing, really, because there was no way Quinn would let Finn feel her up on a miniature golf course and probably not even in a dark movie theatre but –
It still rankled.
Rachel was glad she didn't know what they were doing, because there had been this fantasy brewing in her head all morning. One where she accidentally showed up at the location of their date and blithely ignored the fact that they were on a date and invited herself to join them. She could make it appear perfectly natural; Finn was her best friend after all…
She cast her eyes to the ceiling, slumping lower against her pillows. She was a terrible best friend! Finn had been nothing but nice to her – well, mostly – and here she was plotting ways to ruin his date with his girlfriend. And let's face it, that was actually the least of her crimes against him.
If she didn't just need Quinn in her life so much, she would feel absolutely awful about what she was doing behind his back. Truthfully though, and especially when she was with Quinn, she didn't feel guilty so much as generous; generous because she was allowing him to still be her boyfriend even though she clearly shared something so much deeper with Quinn than he did.
She didn't share a fetus with her, though, and that was always when the guilt came crashing back down on her. Guilt and fear, if she was being totally honest. She was feeling things for a pregnant girl!
Quinn had said she was giving her baby to Mrs. Schuester but there were a million things that could put that plan in jeopardy before the time came. Plus, it was just wrong because how was Quinn going to handle passing her baby off like that, to her teacher no less – someone she had to see every day – and be okay with it? Rachel knew Quinn had the ability to shut her emotions off and come across as cold and indifferent, but she also now knew that she wasn't like that on the inside. So, the worst scenario was that Quinn would have a total meltdown after the baby was born. The best was that she'd have a baby after the baby was born, and she was using the term best lightly.
And while the label they were going with now was "casual," Quinn had also said that she could see them together in six months, which didn't really make it seem all that casual and that should be a good thing, but…
Since the football game Friday night, Rachel had been living in a constant state of being overjoyed and terrified, and both just kept getting worse.
Rachel wanted to be with Quinn more than anything. She knew she had to stop pushing for more, but that didn't stop her wanting it; she wanted to be Quinn's girlfriend and she wanted Quinn to want her to be her girlfriend. It wasn't an issue of coming out, she'd be just as happy being her secret girlfriend. And she didn't care that there was a boyfriend in the picture, too, despite however much she should – she just really wanted some kind of commitment. Some knowledge that Quinn was on the same page. That she wasn't wading in with both feet, heart in her hands, while Quinn was just dipping her toes in the pool for fun.
She didn't know how to get that across though, when whenever she tried to bring it up, Quinn became defensive. They had actually made a lot of progress out on the porch last night but that had only been about the physical side of their rel… dating. Rachel still didn't know where she stood emotionally, or, rather, where Quinn stood. And while the prospect of them hitting the next base in nine weeks instead of six months was extremely appealing, it wouldn't help her if nine months from now they were still "casually dating" and Quinn decided to keep her baby after all!
Not nine months, more like six and a half now. And Quinn could see them still being together in six months!
Gah!
It wasn't helping to go over and over this in her mind – she was just driving herself crazy – she needed to speak to Quinn about it. She needed to know she was more than just casual, that Quinn was willing to commit on some level above the physical. Because the physical stuff between them might be really wonderful, but kisses alone weren't going to calm her nerves about the coming months or reassure her that she was doing the right thing by taking this chance.
Quinn would see it as pushing, but really, when her heart was at stake, did Rachel have any choice?
"So, do you like it?" Finn asked with a grin, "Pretty awesome place for a date, right?"
Quinn looked around. It was smelly and noisy and her nice shoes were getting covered in crap.
"I'm not sure," she told him, "There's an obscene amount of grunting going on right now, considering we're in a family environment."
"It's oinking not grunting and they can't help being obvious or whatever," he corrected and she rolled her eyes. Rachel would have gotten the joke, even if it was lame.
"It's nice, Finn," she admitted and squeezed his hand a little, "What made you think to bring me to a petting zoo?"
"My mom used to bring me a few times a year when I was younger. Then, I don't know, I hit fourteen and spazzed out or something because I told her I couldn't go anymore 'cause, like, I wasn't a little kid. I guess I've missed it. It was always like special time for us, time when my mom wasn't working or cleaning and she was just mine for the day, you know?" He was blushing at his admission but his nostalgic smile didn't look embarrassed, "And I know you want to look into adoption, which I'm cool with if that's what you want, but I read somewhere that you can bond with babies while they're still, like, in you and I figured this might be a nice way to do it."
Quinn gave a tremulous smile before turning her face away. Damn pregnancy hormones making her want to cry over every stupid thing!
"I love you," it just slipped out, but she meant it. In that moment she really meant it.
Finn stopped walking and let go of her hand. When she turned to see what was wrong, he was grinning down at her and then long arms enveloped her neck.
"I love you, too," he leaned down to kiss her.
She indulged him for a few seconds before pushing at his chest, "Not in front of the pigs," she chuckled, catching his hand and leading him on.
And, oh boy was she leading him on.
Unthink that!
Finn was smiling and Quinn remembered the advice that had come in her prayers: Keep Finn happy. As long as he was happy the guilt was kept at bay. That probably wasn't the message Jesus had been trying to send, but it was enough for her.
She couldn't give Finn up and she didn't want to give Rachel up – really, she wasn't sure she actually could even if she did want to – and if going out of her way to make Finn happy was the compromise then she was happy to do it.
"So, what did you want to do now?"
"Let's go and see the sheep," Finn said excitedly.
Sheep? Her nose wrinkled; the rabbits and guinea pigs were more her thing, but… okay.
"Sure," she tucked her hand under his arm, "I love sheep."
It all came down to simple mathematics in the end. You only had to look at the list to see that.
She'd been able to cross one or two things off of the cons – like the fact that Quinn would never like her back, because she'd been completely wrong about that. It was the first time she'd ever been happy to be wrong about something – but even their removal hadn't done much to alter the imbalance between the two sides.
If she could just find a way to level the list up, to prove there were just as many good points as bad, then maybe that would be enough to put her mind to rest. The only problem with that plan was that it wasn't exactly up to her. She couldn't do more than she was now and Quinn was already telling her to slow down.
No, this had to come from Quinn. It was her past and present behavior that were the underlying causes behind Rachel's anxiety after all.
Rachel read down the list of cons – there were fourteen now that she'd added Lashes out verbally when sexually aroused and Baby! – and tried to think of ways Quinn could make them up to her individually. Except for the baby one, obviously, because that would be unfair. The sensible path would probably be to allow Quinn to see the list so that she could come up with her own ways.
It would mean more that way too.
She could already hear Quinn's sarcastic laughter in the back of her mind as Rachel presented her case. She'd tell Rachel to stop pushing, tell her again that she should be happy with what she already had. Quinn wouldn't see the need for this because, sure, she had her own issues about them that she was dealing with – most of those were on the con list – but she seemed fine with drawing a firm line between how they'd been before and how they were now, as if holy water had been pouring from the shower heads that day, washing away the three years of torment and sluicing clean her tarnished soul.
It was true that they had emerged from the steam as different people; it had been the catalyst that had caused them both to see the other in a new light and while it hadn't happened overnight – not by a longshot – it had been the start of it, had opened them both up to the first possibility of being more than Quinn the Heartless Bully and Rachel the Spirited Victim.
She smiled, thinking their love story would make a good country song, and then smiled again when she realized they even had a love story for someone to sing about – Taylor Swift would be a good contemporary choice or maybe LeAnn Rimes for some added sophistication. Oh, she should sing How Do I Live for her next MySpace video! It would be perfect training for her vocal range while simultaneously summing up her current thoughts and… Crap. What if Quinn watched it? She might think it was about her and Easy, tiger wouldn't cover that epic disaster waiting to happen.
What was she doing? Since when had she ever censored her talent and showmanship to appease somebody else?
She scribbled Personality-altering effects below Baby! and focusing on her list again reminded her she was supposed to be focusing on the list. This was important and she really believed it would help Quinn as much as her once their balance was achieved.
The thing was, Quinn might feel cleansed by the holy shower and Rachel might want to put their past behind them so as to be free to explore this magnetism they apparently shared, but that didn't make it cease to exist. And it was still evident in the way Quinn had carelessly reduced to her to near-tears more than once yesterday. She was still gun-shy around Quinn and Quinn was, well, too casual about hurting her feelings.
For them to continue, for them to make it to six months or even nine weeks – and goodness she wanted them to make it to nine weeks! – that had to be corrected.
So, the why was easy, but she still wasn't sure about the how because Quinn would be resistant.
The end of her pen tapped against the list as she thought hard.
She had coer – persuaded Quinn into doing other things she didn't want to do before, like Friday night's speech for instance…
She rolled her eyes, "I am not breaking up with her just so she'll do what I want to win me back!" she muttered, "That would be callous and entirely a step too far."
Also going against what every fiber of her being wanted. What if Quinn consented but took her time in carrying out the necessary corrections? Rachel didn't want to go a week or a month or however long it took before she could be with her again. God, she was already thinking she might die if no opportunity to kiss her presented itself over the coming week!
Oh, but that was a thought. Quinn liked her kisses too. She'd seemed very upset last night when Rachel had been acting like she didn't want to kiss her. Maybe there was something in that she could use as a bargaining chip?
Some part of her knew that she was bordering on crazy with the way she was obsessing about this, but that wasn't really anything new to her and she'd been obsessing over Quinn for a month now, so if she was already in this deep she might as well keep going, right? Especially if the outcome was everything she hoped it would be.
Her pen was tapping again.
Quinn would definitely respond more to the carrot than the stick. And why not? Who didn't love carrots? And Quinn said she mostly ate salads to which a carrot was a very solid ingredient. There was no way dangling a carrot in front of Quinn could fail.
She quickly added Likes salad to the pro list, frowned and wrote Likes animal flesh more, possibly to the con list, before discarding the paper and falling back on her bed to formulate a plan.
"Have you spoken to Rachel since Friday night?"
Quinn nearly choked on her bacon and egg sandwich, "Uh," she said as she wiped her mouth with a napkin, "No, why would I?"
"I don't know. I just thought you might have," Finn took a massive bite of his own bacon and bacon sandwich and shrugged.
She thought that would give her some time to think up a suitable response but he swallowed after like two chews.
"I'm not, like, trying to rag on you here or anything, but don't you think you should apologize to her?"
She lost her appetite and set the sandwich down, "That's what I did Friday night."
"Really?"
"Yes!"
"Oh. Okay," he took another bite, which was gone just as fast. "I guess it just didn't really come across that way because you were sort of, what's that word? Diminishing her in front of half the school."
She frowned, "You mean demeaning?" He nodded. "I didn't do that!" Had she? No! Rachel definitely wouldn't have forgiven her if it had come across like that, "I stood up and told the truth, Finn. That's all. And she's happy I cleared her name."
"So, you have spoken to her?"
Another be careful what you wish for moment. So many times she'd wished Finn would use the intelligence she knew he was capable of deep down, but why did he only ever use it when it was detrimental to her?
"No," she said firmly. "But why wouldn't she be? Everyone thought she tried to kiss me and I set them straight." What a wonderful choice of word, she mentally rolled her eyes, "She should be thanking me."
"Maybe she will if you apologize."
"You actually want me to personally apologize… to her face?"
"Yeah, or no, I mean it's up to you, obviously, but things have been real tense in Glee recently and maybe you… saying sorry, will un-tense it. It can't hurt to try."
"Okay, I will."
He grinned, "You will?"
"If you want me to, yes."
She'd already apologized for it a dozen times, one more wouldn't hurt. She could even do it in front of Finn. It would satisfy him and give her an excuse to talk to Rachel in school tomorrow.
Finn finished his sandwich and, surprisingly, used his napkin instead of his sleeve to wipe his mouth, "So, is uh, is me still being friends with Rachel gonna be a problem?"
She sighed, "You being friends with Rachel has always been a problem."
It was true. If he hadn't started showing an interest in Rachel, she wouldn't have either…
Maybe it was a blessing in disguise too, but it was still a problem, one that was only going to get worse. She was doing what Finn had wanted to do – probably still wanted to do – and while she was pretty sure Rachel was over her crush on Finn, she'd never actually said so and her goofy smile whenever Quinn mentioned his crush on her lit up her whole stupid face.
Honestly? It would make her laugh if she wasn't so seriously concerned about it.
This had the potential to become the messiest love triangle in history if they all weren't careful. Not that she could expect Finn to be careful, because he could never know about it. She would just have to make sure that Finn didn't feel the need to pursue Rachel romantically and that Rachel had no reason to be interested if he did.
She suddenly saw a lot of second base in her future and then choked on her water over realizing that such a thought could pop so coolly into her mind. What was she? Some kind of slut-machine now? Did the answer to everything lie with her breasts? Forgive me, Lord, for offering up myself as pay…
Finn turned and his mouth quirked to one side in confusion to see her palms pressed flat together in front of her chest.
"Amen. I forgot to say grace," she cleared her throat, thinking she would have to finish that up later because right now she had to look for answers outside of her bra, "Finn, I can't pick your friends for you, but just don't forget which one of us is your girlfriend in future, okay? I know I messed up this time, but it was motivated by you always taking her side over mine. Don't give me cause to doubt you again and I won't stand in the way of your friendship with Rachel."
He was quiet while he thought about it and she braced herself for an argument.
It never came.
He grinned as he shuffled closer to her on the bench and put his arm around her shoulders, "I can do that. I don't want to give you any more reason to doubt me. And, hey, if you hang out with us too," his tone was playfully wheedling, "then you can keep an eye on me and make sure I always take your side in future."
"Ugh, no, I am not hanging out with Rachel. Stop trying to talk me into being friends with her because that is never going to happen. Just because you have some weird fascination with the little –" she couldn't bring herself to go where she usually would, "– doesn't mean I do." She ignored the urge to look to the clouded Heavens for the Hand of God about to bitch slap her for such enormous lies, "Come on, its getting cold just sitting here."
He took her hand as he caught up, "What did you want to do now?"
The petting zoo wasn't that big and they'd surely seen everything there was to see. Plus it really was getting cold now the afternoon was wearing on. Also she kind of wanted to get home and use family time to log on to Facebook.
Was it sad that it hadn't even been a full day yet and she was already missing Rachel? If it was, then it was even sadder when she admitted she'd been missing her since waking up that morning.
However, a look at her watch proved that Finn was probably expecting at least another hour of date time and she hadn't forgotten her promise to do her best to keep him happy.
"It's getting late and it's a forty minute drive back to town…" Beside her, he sighed, guessing what was coming. "… but if we head back now, we'll have time to go to The Lima Bean for hot chocolate before my curfew."
"Oh. Yeah, okay, cool," with a surprised, happy smile he started pulling her towards the car.
With a smile of her own, she let him. Mission accomplished, for today at least, and Facebook would still be there in a couple of hours.
And hopefully Rachel would be there, too.
Satisfied that she had formulated a fool-proof plan, Rachel spent an enjoyable hour eating the Italian food her daddy had picked up from Giuseppe's on his way home from work – assuring him that no, she wasn't sick of pasta after eating at Breadstix the night before – before heading back to her room to work on her MySpace Video.
Movie night usually started at seven-thirty, but her dad had a lot of paperwork to finish before Monday morning – that he should have done Saturday night but he'd procrastinated in front of the TV instead! Honestly, it was a wonder she had such a good homework ethic with him as a role model – so they'd postponed it for an hour, on his promise that he would be all done by then. After seeing the pile of files he had to go through, Rachel was skeptical but on her daddy's insistence she was giving him the benefit of the doubt.
She went through her limited supply of LeAnn Rimes' songs, dedicated to her choice of singer if not her original songs, and listened to each of them as she tried to pick a winner.
While they were playing, she set up the camcorder, booted up her computer, and made sure the microphone was connected properly. She did her Doe, Ray, Me's and a few more complicated runs to warm up her vocal chords and then sat at her desk while the last few songs played out.
She logged into MySpace in readiness and checked her previous video – posted three days ago because she hadn't had a chance since; Quinn was upsetting her schedule far too much, and she should be annoyed but it just made her smile – but there were no new comments. Fingers idly tapping her keyboard tray, she couldn't think of a reason not to and she logged onto Facebook, too.
Nearly every status update was about the party she hadn't been invited to.
Mercedes: Killer night last night, guys. Although I swear that dip was funky, Matt.
Kurt: I am never playing Wii Ice Hockey again! I am physically bruised from playing a virtual game? How is that possible?
Brittany: Matt, I think I left my shoes at your house, and possibly my shirt. Can you bring them to school Monday?
~~Santana: Britts, they're in my car.
~~Santana: Your shoes, I have no idea where your shirt is.
~~Brittany: But I took my shoes off when I took my shirt off, I'm sure I did.
~~Santana: Maybe these aren't your shoes then. Actually they're not, forget I said anything.
~~Tina: I think I have your shirt Brittany? I'll bring it to school tomorrow.
~~Santana: What the hell, Stutters?
~~Tina: False alarm, it's apparently my sister's.
Finn: My girlfriend is awesome!
~~Santana: You're an idiot!
~~Finn: Screw you, Santana!
~~Santana: LMAO Yeah, you wish!
~~Finn: Uh, no, never!
Matt: Thanks for coming, guys. I hope you had fun. Sorry the dip tasted weird.
~~Mercedes: Yeah, that dip tasted damn weird.
Artie: Just uploaded the photos. Check out the third one, guys. It's freakin hilarious!
Rachel did so immediately.
The first one was of Mercedes, Tina, and Kurt standing in a living room, that was presumably Matt's, with their arms around each other while they gave the camera posed smiles.
The second was of Santana, Mike, and Brittany dancing in a corner. Mike looked good, she noted; the clover-green button down shirt looked nice on him and he was so boyishly handsome when he was smiling like that.
The third was of something else entirely. A large television took up the edge of the shot, the image on it a white blur, but the focus was on Quinn and Mike, side by side and each grimacing in frustration at the screen. Mike looked like he was mid-curse and Quinn looked like she was going to turn and beat him to death with the little plastic sticks she held in her hands, if only she could take her eyes off of the TV long enough to do it.
It was funny and a chuckle escaped her, but Oh Barbra! She hadn't really believed Quinn the night before when she'd said they'd been caught up in an epic battle, but now here was the photographic proof right in front of her.
And it had been because of her!
She shifted in her chair a little as she realized just how much she liked it, and suddenly she had to speak to Quinn now.
She pulled up Facebook Chat and yes! Quinn was online. She didn't waste any time initiating a conversation:
Hi!
Hey :)
How are you?
I'm okay. You?
Better now I'm speaking to you :)
How was your afternoon?
Okay. I just got back. I can't really chat.
I have dinner in ten minutes and I have to get
changed.
Had she been too forward? Maybe she should have just said Okay too? Or was it because she'd asked about her date? Or both?
Okay. Never mind.
Sorry. Like I said, family time.
I understand, Quinn. It's fine.
Give me 2 hours?
I can escape back up here then.
Rachel grinned; she'd been overreacting. Quinn did want to chat with her!
Sure, I'll be here.
Then she noticed the clock in the corner of her monitor. Damn!
Actually, I won't. Movie night
starts at eight thirty. Sorry.
Can't you blow it off?
The same way Quinn hadn't blown off Family Time for her?
No. Sorry.
Oh, okay.
What about after?
It might be too late. My Daddy
wants to watch King Kong… again. :)
I really like that film.
If you can get out of Family Time,
you're welcome to come and join us.
I can't.
I guess I'll just see you tomorrow.
Yes. I wish I could see you tomorrow :(
Why won't you?
Rule one!
Rachel, don't, okay?
You know why it has to be this way.
And it's not like you can't look at me,
you just can't make it obvious you're LOOKING at me.
So I can look at you in secret?
:)
:)
If you want to.
Just don't let it be obvious. We can't see each other
in private if people see us seeing each other in public.
That sentence sounded less weird when I started
typing it out :)
So will you be 'seeing' me too?
Probably. Subtly.
Okay :)
I wish I could see you now.
Rachel blushed and then laughed at the thoughts in her head.
If you ask me what I'm wearing next
I think our nine week plan is going
to take a significant hit ;)
lmao. I wasn't going to ask that!
& don't put those thoughts in my head
right before I have dinner with my parents!
Sorry!
Except not really :)
You're my worst nightmare :)
A strange statement to put a smiley too.
:) Okay, I really have to go now!
I'll 'see' you tomorrow ;) x
Okay, goodbye x :)
She sat back in her chair after Quinn had left the chat box and pondered their conversation with a smile. So, she was allowed to look at her as long as no one noticed, that was a step in the right direction. Not a big step, true, but baby steps would get them where she wanted to be eventually.
Either way their conversation had helped her pick her song and she still had plenty of time to practice and then record it before she was due downstairs for the movie.
"So, what did you and Finn do today?" her mom asked.
Quinn paused with a forkful of creamed potato halfway to her mouth, "He took me to a petting zoo."
"I like this boy," her dad said as he set his tumbler down and picked his knife back up, "I've heard stories about some of the young men at that school that would make your eyes water, but he seems like the wholesome type."
She almost laughed, because yeah, compared to some of the assholes at McKinley, Finn really was wholesome.
"He's quarterback as well, you said?"
As well as being wholesome? Was that a weird combination? "Yes, Daddy. He made quarterback freshman year, actually. He's really tall, as you know, so he has the edge. Coach Tanaka says he's the best quarterback the Titans have had in five years."
"Well, that's wonderful. Proves he has a good work ethic. And he's a Christian boy?"
"Yes, Daddy."
"What church does his family attend?"
She had no idea if he even went to church; actually, she doubted he did. He'd only joined Christ Crusaders after they'd started dating. He'd only joined the Celibacy club because he'd heard it was all about sex. He'd suffered some – hilarious – disappointment when he finally cottoned on – around his fourth meeting.
"I'm not sure, I'll ask him tomorrow."
"What are his parents like?"
"He only has a mom, but she's nice."
Her dad frowned, "Divorce?"
"Russell, it's none of our business," her mom murmured behind a forkful of roasted lamb.
"Of course it is! This is our daughter's childhood sweetheart we're talking about."
Despite his jovial tone, Quinn remained wary, "No, daddy. Finn's father was in the army. He died in the Gulf War. The first one. Finn was just a baby at the time."
"Oh," he washed a mouthful of lamb down with some whisky, "Terrible shame, then. I assume he is as patriotic as his father was?"
"He is."
"How is it going with the Cheerios, Quinnie?"
She would have been more grateful for her mom's intervention if she hadn't picked such a sore subject, but she forced out a cheer smile as she replied with an upbeat lilt, "Good. I helped implement an entirely new routine for the Homecoming game on Friday night so I think Coach Sylvester is very impressed with me right now."
Either that or gunning for her blood, but she was choosing to look to the positive until proven otherwise.
"That's wonderful, dear. Staying on top of that squad will open so many doors for you. I was head cheerleader at McKinley in my senior year. Of course, that was before they had national competitions, but still I did pretty well out of it."
As her mom beamed happily at her dad, who, yeah was beaming back, but with a mouth full of food and his glass held close to his lips to take advantage as soon as he swallowed, all Quinn could think was – No! No! No! Noooooooo! But she couldn't say that, so she just stuck another forkful of lamb into her mouth and waited for whatever came next.
"And how is that singing thing you're doing," her mom asked. "It's not interfering with your school work, I hope."
Strange how she never worried about Cheerios interfering with her studies, which should have been much more of a concern because Coach Sylvester would pull them out of every regular lesson to practice if she thought she could get away with it.
"You mean Glee club? It's going well, I think. We have our first big competition just before Christmas, so we're working hard towards that. I think we're on track."
Naturally, Coach Sylvester finally taking up her co-director duties tomorrow would probably force them off that track. She frowned as she remembered what the Coach had asked her to do on Thursday. She'd pushed it to the back of her mind but now the instructions came back to her. The question was: should she tell Rachel about it?
Probably.
But it wasn't like there anything she could do to stop Coach from doing what she wanted, and most likely Rachel would report what Quinn told her to Mr. Schuester and then he'd go off the deep end and confront Coach about it, and then she'd know that Quinn had told and…
No, it was too risky. She'd just have to play her part and hope that the club was ultimately strong enough to withstand Sue's meddling.
Of course, it would be a lot stronger if she and Rachel hadn't been systematically tearing it apart from the inside recently to cover up their confusing and unwanted feelings for each other. Would she have done anything differently if she'd known she would one day soon be okay with those feelings? Quinn couldn't be sure, because they were so confusing.
The party last night may have gone some way towards repairing the damage between the warring sides. No one had thrown anything over any one else and even the name-calling and dirty looks had been minimal – and mostly directed at her anyway – but she didn't know what would happen with Rachel back in the mix tomorrow morning. She just hoped her speech Friday night had washed out all of the animosity her lies had created. If not, she would have to watch them tear her down, and that wouldn't be the worst of it. She was going to have to stand by and let it happen; that was so much worse. Especially when all she was going to want to do when she saw Rachel in hallways was push her against the lockers and kiss her senseless.
"Quinn, I asked if that Rachel Berry was in your little choir."
She choked on a half-chewed broccoli floret as her dad repeated the question she'd missed the first time because she'd been too busy thinking about kissing the subject of his enquiry!
"Uh, ye-yes."
"There is no uh in the dictionary, Quinnie."
"Sorry, mom. Yes," she took a sip from her water glass and watched as her mom gave her dad an I told you so look, "She is, daddy. There's twelve of us altogether. I sang my first solo on Thursday, it went down well with everybody," she added brightly, hoping to redirect his attention into fatherly pride.
"That's nice, honey, but I don't want you getting too involved with that group, okay?"
"Are you forbidding me from being in Glee?" she asked, confused, she'd never really been forbidden anything before except for boys in her room and carbs after seven.
Had he heard through the PTA grapevine about the risqué performance of Push It the club had put on before she'd joined or was this just a Rachel Berry thing?
"Of course not, honey. A bright girl like you needs well-rounded extra-curricular's for college; I just don't want you to become too involved with the other children." Too late!"I'm sure they don't all adhere to the same value system that you do and at your age, peer pressure is a very persuasive influence."
"Besides, you already have enough friends, what with the Cheerios and Celibacy Club and Christ Crusaders, right Quinnie?"
She gave her mom a strained smile and turned back to her dad. She knew she shouldn't, she should just let it lie and change the subject, but she was getting a sinking feeling and was curious to discover the cause.
"Is there anyone in particular you want me to stay away from, daddy?"
"That Berry girl," he said matter-of-factly, "Now, I'm sure she's a fine young woman in her own right and Lord forgive me for blaming the sins of the father on an innocent child, but I'm sure He will forgive me for putting the well-being of my own daughter first."
"Why? What did her dad do?" she asked, and if ever she deserved an award for acting, it was now because her tone was pure childlike naivety, "Did he commit a crime?"
"You know her parents are homosexuals, Quinnie," her mom put in, reproachfully.
"What, both of them?"
Okay, that was too far and she waited to be reprimanded – and maybe instructed to read the bible aloud for the remainder of family time. She was already cringing and therefore utterly surprised when she saw her mom bite her lip and then force a most unladylike amount of cabbage into her mouth. Was she on some kind of chew faster diet that she hadn't shared with Quinn yet? Or was she actually trying to stifle a laugh?
It was times like this – and only times like this – that she was glad that her dad still thought of her as sweet, innocent, completely clueless Lucy.
"Yes, honey, they are. And while it is not my place to judge the immoral lifestyles others choose to live, it is my place to keep my daughter safe from perversion."
"Okay," she shook her head, still trying to digest her mom's out of character reaction and her dad's totally in character bigotry, "I mean, okay, daddy. I understand." He was waiting for more. "Rachel and I aren't friends anyway. We barely even speak to each other in school."
It wasn't a lie. Well, not much of one. And from tomorrow, they really wouldn't be speaking in school if they were going to maintain their cover.
"Good girl. That's very sensible of you. Their kind are poisoning small town America with their impious beliefs and it hurts my heart to think of you being subjected to it in that school. It used to be such a good school too, didn't it, Judy?"
"Mmmhmm," her mom mumbled, still chewing that gigantic mound of cabbage.
There was more to come; she knew there was and her heart was sinking as fast as her stomach at having to sit through any more bad-mouthing of Rachel and her family – who had only been perfectly nice to her so far, despite all of her bad first impressions. She braced herself for it, knowing that to try and change the subject now that he was on a roll would be futile.
"Have you finished, Quinnie?" her mom asked once she'd finally swallowed the cabbage patch, "Then why don't you go and get started on your homework? Didn't you say you had a big European Studies project due in this week?" she asked as she nodded her head backwards under the pretense of leisurely scratching at her neck.
She wasn't even taking European Studies this semester! Why did her mom never listen to a thing she… Her eyes looked down at her clearly not finished plate… Oh!
"Yes, thanks, mom. If you don't mind me being excused, I should try and get it finished tonight."
Her mom nodded that it was okay and she was already leaving the room with her plate and water glass when her dad called after her.
"I'm proud of you, Quinn."
For not being friends with Rachel? Awesome. That was just… yeah, awesome.
She turned back to him with a sweet smile, "Thank you, daddy."
She finished the last few bites of her meal in the kitchen before clearing up after herself and heading back to her room.
She dithered over whether to go back on Facebook.
She'd been excused so fast that there was still twenty minutes until Rachel's movie night started; she might be able to catch her and that would help to dilute some of the badness she'd just endured.
Her dad's words were staying with her. If he thought her just being friends with Rachel was bad, how would he feel about knowing there was something more than friendship between them? She wasn't a fool, she knew how he felt about gays; it had been drummed into her enough while growing up, but now it was about her. It was personal now. And it wasn't like she'd ever consider coming out to him – because how stupid would that be? – but she'd just started to feel like it was okay to come out to herself and now she felt guilty about it all over again.
Only, if possible, ten times worse!
She didn't want to be considered immoral or impious or perverted, or whatever other words he'd wanted to use but hadn't had the chance to say, by anyone, let alone her daddy! She didn't want to be the thing poisoning America.
She just wanted to be with the only person who made her feel like maybe there was more to life than faking her way through it.
What was so bad about that? Rachel was a good person; she didn't smoke, or sleep around or commit crimes. She was a good daughter, she strived to be a straight-A student – although she'd probably be lucky to scrape a C in American Lit this semester, Quinn thought with a fond smile – she was loyal and loving and devoted to living a healthy and cruelty-free life.
If she was a boy, and not Jewish, her daddy would be all over her – him – trying to make her – him – his next son-in-law, so why did that of all have to fall apart just because Rachel was a girl? What difference did it really make in God's grand scheme of things? When He pointed you in the direction of the person you were supposed to love, how could it be wrong to follow that path?
She'd been sitting on the edge of her bed, staring at her computer screen – still open on Facebook – from four feet away, but that word got her up and pacing. That word! Because really?
No, she was just feeling raw from the conversation with her dad, and it was leaving her open to emotionally misinterpreting her feelings. She was reading more into them than she should be. Rachel was important to her, but not that important. She loved Finn! She really did, she'd thought so just that afternoon. She loved Finn, he was her boyfriend, and her daddy approved of him. Not to mention that they were going to have a baby together – okay, her daddy wouldn't approve of that so much – and, okay, she was going to give the baby up because it was the right thing to do, but she and Finn would be fine. And sometime down the line, after they'd both finished college and they were married, they'd have another baby, one that was actually his, and everything would be okay.
Just okay.
Nothing more, nothing less.
She did love Finn, he would be a good man, but when had she last actually thought she was in love with him? Like, He's-the-one-I-can't-live-withoutlove? Not since she'd found out she was pregnant, or at least not for the right reasons since then. The last time she could think of was before joining Glee club; it was why she had joined Glee, to keep him. But how much of that had really been about not being prepared to lose him to Rachel Berry of all people?
She laughed tiredly because, boy, had that backfired on her.
Had she ever been in love with him?
Had she ever been in love?
Rach…
No! Not that. No, she was being stupid. She couldn't… It was too much!
Pacing the length of her bed again, she dropped to her knees, hands folding into each other unconsciously.
"I don't know what I'm thinking anymore," she murmured, forehead resting on her clasped hands.
Yes you do.
"I don't!"
What do you think you're thinking?
"That I'm going down a dangerous path."
Why?
"I'm in over my head. Liking someone, having a crush on them, is one thing. I'm scared this is more."
Why are you scared?
"You're omnipotent, so I know you're aware of the conversation I had with my father earlier. I also know you're pretty big on obeying thy father, so where does that leave me in Your eyes?"
The same place you've always been, Lucy. I love you unconditionally and I trust in your ability to love beyond boundaries and borders, whatever form that may take."
"So, it's okay?"
Only you can answer that. You are the only one who can find your true path and it's only human to take many missteps along your way.
"So, Rachel's a misstep?"
Do you think she is?
"I don't know. I don't want her to be but I also kind of do. I like her, but I know my life will be simpler if she turned out to be a misstep."
Then you have two choices. You can turn back on the path now and forge a new one. Or you can follow it to the end and see what you find there.
"Which one do you think will be the easiest?"
Lucy, don't sell yourself short – you have never taken the easy way out, so I am sure whichever you choose will be the hardest.
Quinn rolled her eyes, "Amen."
She dragged herself up to sit on the side of the bed again, wiping tears out of her eyes. She hadn't even realized she was crying. Was that a sign of religious rapture? It hadn't felt very rapture-like at the time.
As with all of her conversations with Jesus, she was left feeling faintly confused but with a stronger sense of determination. It was all about faith, after all. And now she had to choose between having faith in herself or having faith in her father's opinions. She loved her daddy… God, she loved her daddy more than anyone or anything! But this time, on this occasion, she knew he was wrong. She could never tell him that – she'd probably be in the closet until the day he died to avoid telling him that – but that didn't make it untrue.
Now she just had to decide whether or not she had enough faith in Rachel, enough faith in them, to make it worth going down this path.
Were they right enough to count out all of the wrong stacked against them? Finn, the baby, her parents, Cheerios, her popularity, her future? There were so many reasons to turn around.
Quinn wiped some more tears away and moved to her computer chair. It was after nine now, meaning Rachel would be watching a movie with her dads, so it was safe to go back online.
She shut down Facebook without even looking around and opened up her MySpace account instead. She just wanted to watch Rachel's performance of Taking Chances again; hopefully it would make her feel better, or at least remind her that she wasn't alone in this. Rachel was leaping too, they were doing this together, so if it all did blow up in her face, if the worst case scenario of somehow everyone finding out happened and she lost them all – and, God, please don't let that happen, she couldn't have that happen, but if – she would still have Rachel.
And maybe that was just enough.
There was a new video up, posted only half an hour ago, and now she could see what Rachel was wearing, she thought and smiled and blushed. Not over the short black skirt and the gray and white argyle sweater, but at the memory of the conversation they'd had and the reminder it gave her of their nine week goal.
Not that she really knew what that goal was exactly and she was a little scared to think about it, but it still sent a shiver of excitement through her all the same.
She maximized the video screen. There were no comments yet and she was the first to view it. It felt special, in a sappy way that she was embarrassed to even admit to herself, that she was the first to see Rachel's latest performance.
Chuckling softly, she clicked on the play button and sat back in her chair. Rachel's MySpace selections had been so eclectic recently, she really had no idea what she might be about to watch.
She didn't know what exactly her first assumption was when the music began to play – and while the tune was catchy and Rachel's voice was undoubtedly as stunning as ever – the first few lines weren't particularly flattering.
I know all about,
Yeah, about your reputation
And now it's bound to be a heartbreak situation
Of course, Rachel wasn't necessarily singing about her. She shouldn't jump to conclusions. There were plenty of people at school that had bad reputations and could potentially break her heart.
But I can't help it if I'm helpless
Every time that I'm where you are
You walk in and my strength walks out the door
Say my name and I can't fight it anymore
Oh I know I should go
But I need your touch just too damn much.
Okay, bad reputation or not, she had better not be singing about anyone else! The thought of Rachel needing anyone else's touch at all, let alone that much… it made her want to punch Mike in the face just so he knew he didn't stand a chance. And Finn, too, so he knew better than to get any ideas.
And then the chorus kicked in and she realized she did know the song; it was from that film, Coyote Ugly. They'd watched it at Santana's two summers ago, over and over, and Brittany had gotten into trouble with Mrs. Lopez for dancing on their bar to this song and accidentally, at least that was the story they'd gone with, kicking over a decanter of sherry or something.
Baby, you're the right kind of wrong
Yeah, baby you're the right kind of wrong.
Quinn sat back again, smiling.
It might be a mistake
A mistake I'm making
But what you're giving I am happy to be taking
'Cause no one's ever made me feel the way that I feel
When I'm in your arms
Rachel could have been pulling these lyrics right out of Quinn's heart. Was this the way Rachel felt about them, too? It certainly looked as if she was singing out her feelings.
They say you're something I should do without
They don't know what goes on when the lights go out
Rachel's steady gaze turned sultry and she winked at the camera. Quinn felt her cheeks blush again and she bit her lip against a goofy smile.
There's no way to explain
All the pleasure is worth all the pain
Loving you, isn't really something I should do
I shouldn't wanna spend my time with you
I should try to be strong
But baby you're the right kind of wrong
Yeah, baby, you're the right kind of wrong.
She grinned through the remainder of the song, eyes locked on Rachel's as if they could see each other through the screen and the time elapsed between Rachel performing it and her now watching it. She knew despite how upbeat it was and the light in Rachel's eyes as she sang there was a darker undercurrent here; it spoke of their issues as much as Rachel's lyrical willingness to forge on in spite of them, but it was the very fact that they were the issues that Quinn was worrying about too that made this so wonderful. They were more in sync than she'd realised and that gave her hope that they'd be okay, that they really did stand a chance.
When the song was finished she listened to it again, and then again, before clicking to leave a comment.
Actually, she should change her name again first, because she was currently going by Quinntruder still and she couldn't leave the comment she wanted to under such an obvious name.
When she was done, she logged out of MySpace – if Rachel was watching King Kong, it would be hours before Quinn could expect a reply – and finally got on with her homework.
She felt lighter now than she had since the conversation at the dinner table; maybe even since she'd given her insane speech on Friday night. Yes, there were a dozen reasons why they were wrong to try to be together and maybe another dozen things on top of that that would stand in their way, but as long as they were on the same page, as long as they lo…
Her brain shied away instinctively, it was just so big of a concept, but she forced herself to be strong, because, God, if she couldn't tell the truth to herself, what hope did she have of making anything work with Rachel? As long as they loved each other, everything else would just have to be okay.
She had faith that it would be. She had faith that she was on the right path. She had faith in Rachel and what they shared together, as crazy and confusing and overwhelming as it was.
And, Oh God, she couldn't wait to "see" her tomorrow. She'd never wanted Monday morning to come so fast before!
It was after midnight when Rachel finally dragged herself up the stairs to her bedroom, her loud yawns blocking out most of her dad's apologies for making them start the film so late.
She didn't really mind, even if it was nearly two hours later than she usually went to bed on a school night. She'd enjoyed the film as much as she always did and her sleep had been so patchy recently, anyway, thanks to Quinn, that she was more or less accustomed to only getting around five or six hours instead of her standard eight. At least tonight she could be pretty sure she would sleep like a log the second her head hit the pillow.
She'd changed into her pajamas before the movie so it only took a minute – well, three and a half because tiredness was no excuse for skimping on dental hygiene – to brush the popcorn and soda from her teeth before she could fall into bed.
She had literally fallen, face-planting the pillow, when she realized that her computer was still on. She'd disabled the sleep alarm so that she wouldn't have to boot it back up to check her latest video for comments before bedtime. In hindsight, she cursed her foresight and pushed herself back off of the mattress.
She altered the time on her iPod's alarm first for an hour later – better to skip her exercise routine just this once than be tired all day at school tomorrow – and then sleepily made her way to her desk.
She had a comment! The thrill that always came with comments was tempered by the knowledge that they were almost always horrible, but with a deep, preparatory breath – that was really more of another yawn – she clicked on it anyway.
Yourrightkindofwrong: I think you found our song. It's perfect for us, don't you think? :) And you sang it beautifully. x (and somebody help me, because in that sweater you actually manage to make argyle look hot! ;) I may never forgive you for that!) I can't wait to "see" you tomorrow. Goodnight, Yourrightkindofwrong. xxx
Cheeks burning from the strength of her blush and aching from the size of her smile, Rachel suddenly had a brainwave and printed out the internet page before dutifully deleting the lovely comment.
Once the jarring noise of the printer had stopped, she turned everything off and carried the printed out page to bed with her, reading the comment a few more times before placing it on the cabinet – so that she could read it again as soon as she woke up – and turning out the light.
She didn't even care now that she'd picked that song because she'd been feeling a little huffy and insecure about them. Or that she'd meant the lyrics to be more damning of Quinn's attitude than encouraging. How could she, in light of Quinn's response?
Maybe she didn't need her plan after all? Was there any need to force – uh, persuade Quinn to prove emotional commitment now, when her comment pretty much showed she was feeling the exact same way as her?
Was she feeling the exact same way? Did she feel like this was more than a… than a fling now, more than casual dating? Did she see them as serious? Was she falling, too?
Rachel had a million more questions but her eyes were closing against her will and there was nothing she could do except succumb to sleep – but at least she was doing it with a smile on her face for once.
Thanks for reading. The chapter title comes from the song by LeAnn Rimes 'Right Kind of Wrong', which was also the song Rachel sings in this chapter.