Love should never be that hard - Part 2

[girlnamedclark]

Title: Love should never be that hard
Author: girlnamedclark
Rating: PG for the first chapters, eventual PG-13 and NC-17
Length: 43227~the entire thing
Spoilers: not really. mainly AU
Summary: “…We first met long before the society’s ways separated us - first grade. At that time, there were no popular kids’ groups, or anything. I was just Rachel and she was just Quinn…”  it’s high school and Rachel and Quinn are best friends, even though mainly outside high school, seeing that they each have their circle of friends.

A/N: Rachel’s POV only in the first chapter/prologue. Quinn’s POV only in the last chapter/epilogue.
A/N2: I incorporated the episodes on my multi-chaptered fic titled Cheaters in this fic, because it fitted. So I apologize anyone who has read the fic.

Part 2

The knock was soft, careful. Almost like her father didn’t want to scare Rachel. Which is a totally good argument, because the house was normally empty and Rachel found herself finding odd when it wasn’t. She knew that it was completely unhealthy that she was more used to the house empty than not - and it was also sad for her -, but there was nothing she could do about it; it wasn’t like it was her fault.
“Come in” her voice came out crooked, and she damned herself for that.

“Sweetie” her dad slowly came inside the room. He was still wearing his work clothes - dark suit pants and white shirt. He had already taken the jacket out and he was undoing his tie as he got closer and closer to Rachel’s bed.

Trying to discreetly hide her face behind the pillows, so that he wouldn’t catch up on the fact she was crying, Rachel said back “daddy”.

He sat on the edge of the bed, finally getting rid of his tie. He stretched his neck, for one side and then another, massaging it softly. It was obvious he was exhausted and Rachel felt for her father, whom she sometimes blamed for not spending enough time with her.

“What’s wrong?” he finally asked, slightly touching her bare-foot, to call her attention.

Rachel sighed, for being discovered. She turned herself around, sitting up on the bed, wiping her tears with her thumbs, and putting up a small smile “oh, it’s nothing. Friend problems…” she shrugged.

“Baby, friend problems don’t make you like this. When you have problems with your friends you get mad, you yell. When you quietly come up to your room, trying to not let no one know that you are crying, just to fall on your pillow sobbing, I know it’s more that friend problems”.

Rachel broke down crying. Her dad got closer, resting his hand on her back and making her head rest on his shoulder.

Even spending so much time apart, her father knew her.

“Who ever he is, he’s not worth it” his father quietly mumbled to her ear, kissing her cheek.

Rachel didn’t say anything, because she didn’t know what to reply to this.

“Seriously, you need to chill out” Mercedes laughed, as she bit a French fry and tossed the other half to the floor, by their table, outside the Dennis Adams High School. No, Mercedes wasn’t a casual polluter; she was feeding the pigeons. Which Rachel knew it was not a good idea, because as soon as someone started feeding them, they would surround that person and never let go. Fair enough, a clan of pigeons was now surrounding their table. But Rachel was too busy too care.

“That’s easy for you to say, when you already read the entire thing. I’m three chapters short of ending and I have a quiz on it like, in an hour” Rachel didn’t bother to look up, her face supported by her fist and elbow straight over the table.

“Well, you can’t say it wasn’t your fault. Even I finished the book, and I’m not too big on reading” Mercedes shrugged, looking around nonchalantly. The amount pigeons at her feet was becoming unnerving “what have you been up to, anyway?”.

If Rachel’s face was hidden by the fact it was almost inside the book, Mercedes would have seen a dramatic and totally unintentional change of expression in her face. She bit her lip, suddenly taken aback “I haven ‘t been able to concentrate…”. It was a good excuse, Rachel decided. Because, firstly, everyone knew she had problems concentrating, secondly, it wasn’t that far from the truth. Actually it was more of a half-truth: she hadn’t been able to concentrate - but not because of her always energetic mind - but because of a much delicate situation.

“Hey Mercedes” Finn approached their table, his charming modest smile splattered in his lips “I think someone is calling you” Finn did his best go with it silent expression, but Mercedes, not a normally perspicacious person, frowned.

“I don’t think so, Finn”.

Finn then used less discreet signs, gesturing with his head for her to give him a moment alone with Rachel.

“Oh” Mercedes finally got it, grabbing her purse “someone’s calling me, right. Be right there… guy” she sent a questioning face to Finn, who shrugged, nonchalantly, as a promise that he would explain to her later.

Rachel could not be more oblivious of any of these happenings, so concentrated on the book she was. It was amazing the abilities that pressure developed in a person.

Slowly, Finn sat right where Mercedes was sitting, waiting for Rachel to recognise his presence. She didn’t.

She was adorable, he couldn’t help but to think. Everything about her, every little quirk and flaw, or just habit; she made the playing with her hair thing cute, and not annoying.

“Rachel” Finn said, as if he just had sat there.

“Finn” she vaguely replied, mind still in the book.

Finn bit his lip. This wasn’t helping. For the last few months he had been building up the courage to ask Rachel out. And by building up courage, he meant searching for an incentive on her side. Which, he sadly had to admit, never came. Then, finally, he decided to man up and just ask her out, naturally, as if it wasn’t a big deal and he was just about to ask her out and she… was more interested in the book than in his presence. He decided not to take this personally.

“Work or pleasure?” he asked, because humour was always his way of avoiding anxiety.

Rachel finally looked up, smiling at him. Her smile melted him “a look into the 20ths century economy” she told him.

“So pleasure, I’m guessing” he joked and this time he was able to take out from her a full on laugher.

“What’s up, Finn?” Rachel finally recognised the fact that he was there for a reason.

“Okay, I wanted to ask you” as he talked, his smile didn’t fade away, Rachel noticed. She didn’t know it was from the nerves, or just for the friendliness he always exhumed, but she liked it “if you would like to go to this concert of a friend’s band next Saturday”.

“What, me and you?”.

This question seemed pertinent to Rachel, but she saw Finn choke with it. She glared at him, half smiling, waiting for him to get himself back together. She was cool with it; she just wanted to be sure that it was a date.

“Yeah, that would be the plan” he replied, after clearing his throat. Then his green eyes lift to meet Rachel’s “if that’s okay with you”.

Rachel felt blush, for some reason. She slightly shrugged, smiling embarrassedly “it’s okay with me”.

“Good” now eye contact seemed comfortable and even enjoyable. He tilted his head to the side and, with the sun hitting him in all the right places, Rachel couldn’t help but to notice how handsome he was. Because he was. Dark hair, slightly slanted eyes“so, should I pick you up at your house, or something?”.

“Yeah, what time it’s the concert?” Rachel asked, finding herself biting her lip in a provocative way - thing that she only did when she was even slightly interested in someone.

“I’ll pick you up at eight. We’ll get a bite to eat, maybe” he let her confirm.

“Sure” Rachel smiled genuinely “I’m looking forwards to it”.

“Hey”

Rachel’s heart almost jumped from her chest, as she closed the entrance door of the house behind her. Someone was in her house. An extremely friendly criminal that greeted her when she arrived from school?...

“Dad!” Rachel lifted her hand to her chest, trying to get her heart pace back to normal. It wasn’t happening so soon “what are you doing here?” she asked, under her accelerated breath.

Her dad, in the middle of the afternoon, in the living room, reading a paper. She just couldn’t process it. It was too dream-like.

He peeked over the paper, smiled warmly at her “there was a… pluming problem in the office. They needed everyone to clear up the building”.

Rachel should have known. It took something like that to get him out of the office. She stayed there, for a moment, looking around the living room, scratching her forehead “so… I guess I’m going to my room” she said. He suddenly dropped his paper.

“Right, kiddo, I almost forgot to tell you…” a smile spread in his lips and shrugged “I’ll guess you’ll see it”.

Rachel sent him a confused look, as he hid behind his paper, again, but she knew her dad’s sense of humour, which didn’t resemble like humour at all, it was like he got amused at people’s own actions. It was weird, but it was one of the reasons why Rachel loved him so much.

She climbed the stairs to her room with the usual energy she always did it, leaping the first twoo steps and the last two. It was just a habit of her. She pushed her room’s door with no reservations, and she had almost forgotten about her father’s cryptic words when she saw herself faced with a blonde girl sitting on her full-sized bed.

Apparently, Rachel’s confused glare gave her up.

“Your dad didn’t tell you about me, did he?” Quinn asked, raising her eyebrows “I had the impression he had forgotten about me. He sent me upstairs, like, forty-five minutes ago”.

“Well, you can’t blame him, he’s not used to being home when people arrive” Rachel said, humourlessly.

Quinn stared at her, as if she was trying to figure out if she should try to comfort Rachel or if she was just making her joke. She decided on the last one, even though she was sure that wasn’t Rachel’s humorous tone.

“What you’re doing here?” Rachel asked, naturally, as she dropped her bag to the floor, and started taking off her jacket, throwing it over her bed.

“I came straight after school” Quinn said, instead, tilting her head to the side, her silky smooth blond hair falling around her pale neck “I waited for you. Long time”.

“Well, you didn’t tell me you were coming, so how was I supposed to know you were here, waiting for me?” Rachel defended herself, checking by the corner of her eye an open architecture magazine over her bed. Quinn had always been interested in architecture and Rachel had some magazines in her room from one time she had to do a project for school.

“I know” Quinn said, smoothing the fabric of her dress as she stood up “I want to talk to you” the trail of her thinking got lost, as she saw Rachel resting shopping bag over her bed “you went to the mall?” she asked, curiously.

“Yeah” Rachel answered, naturally “what do you want to talk about?”.

Quinn was not done staring at bag as if it just had been revealed the biggest secret of Rachel. She tried to cover this up, forcing herself to look away “with who?” she casually asked, as if it was just a pleasantry.

“A friend”.

“Oh” Quinn was not happy by the vague answer. Rachel was already sitting on her bed, and it was obvious she wasn’t going to continue “Tina?” she tried.

“No”.

Damn. Quinn didn’t want to seem to interested, but definitely didn’t want to not know who “Mercedes, Kurt?...”

“No” Rachel replied, again “just a friend. He works part-time at the music store there and he asked me to meet him there” she shrugged, nonchalantly.

“Oh, a he?” Quinn grabbed to that information, not letting it go “who? I must know him”.

The way how you know every guy in town?, Rachel bitterly said to herself, without opening her mouth. Instead, she pursed her lips together, and feigned relaxation “Finn. Finn Hudson”.

“Oh, Finn. He dated Santana”.

“Yeah, not for long though” Rachel shrugged, trying not to sound too defensive, but she definitely didn’t like to be compared to Santana Lopez.

“So…” Quinn crossed her arms, trying to sound not too interested in the subject “him and you? Are you…”

“Hum?” Rachel looked up, pretending to be lost in the conversation “oh, not really. I mean, we’re having our first date on Saturday, so not yet, though”.

“Oh. Cool” Quinn bit her lip, her hazel eyes falling to the ground.

“So…” Rachel looked at her, confusedly “you were here to talk?”.

“Yeah” Quinn now jumped at the opportunity to change the subject, because quite frankly that one was turning her stomach upside down “I wanted to get things solved up with the whole thing of you being mad at me for sleeping with Puck, or whatever, but we seem to be cool, so I guess there’s no deal here”.

“Yeah” Rachel continued feign relaxation, even though her heart clenched as she heard the player’s name “well… do whatever, it’s your life, I don’t have the right to get mad at you because of it”.

Those words were so hard to be said as they were hard to be listened to. Each of them stabbed Quinn’s heart as cold indifferent knifes. That was not what Quinn had planned. She had planned to come here to argue with Rachel, so that they would be both hot-headed and, in the heat of the argument, Rachel would confess why she was so bothered about the entire Puck situation. She didn’t expect - or hoped - to get there and be confronted with Rachel not caring.

“Great” Quinn exclaimed, though, her throat dry “now we can go back to being… friends”.

It wasn’t like Rachel wasn’t big on Biology. She actually liked the understanding of the nature and the theoretical part but, if she thought about it, there wasn’t a class that beat the five times she had stormed out of Biology, running towards the bathroom. So, all and all, Rachel was enthusiastic about Biology, until she heard something related to “experimental classes”. Then, she felt her heart clench with utter panic and sickness.

Rachel hated the fact that, even though half of her Biology class was girls, she was the only one apparently affected by the insides of a frog, or anything they happened to be dissecting.

“Baby pigs?” Rachel cried, as Mr Brooks, the biology teacher, placed a miniature pig over her counter, as he had been giving every student in class.

“No, not baby pigs, Rachel” he patiently stated, as he gave Quinn - who happened to be in the table just next to Rachel’s “fetal pigs”.

“Well, what’s the difference?” Rachel’s eyebrows were completely furrowed in horror, as she stared at the little animal.

“It just is, Rachel” the teacher responded.

Rachel dared a look at Quinn, next table, expecting to be joined on the crusade against animal cruelty, but she found herself staring at a completely not-minded Quinn, already putting her latex gloves on, as if this was something she did every Thursday afternoon.

Quinn looked up to Rachel and gave her most nonchalant nod, as if asking “what’s the problem?”.

“Okay, guys, before you cut them open, let me just give you the main directories…” the teacher was saying, by the black board.

Rachel found it very hard to concentrate on whatever instructions the teacher was giving, as her mind was too busy thinking about her own pig, who she had immediately nicknamed of Big, the pig - ironically, of course -, running through green fields. Why a pig was running through green fields was unknown by her, but it was still a beautiful, touching picture.

Quinn curiously observed Rachel from the corner of her hazel eyes. By the way how the brunette had apparently bounded with her pig - she was now trying to pet the dead thing - she could sense there was going to be problems with getting her to dissect it. It was out of Quinn’s understanding why Rachel was so against doing so. It wasn’t even because she thought the thing was disgusting - something that Quinn would understand - it was actually the contrary.

“So… begin” the teacher finally directed and some excitedly, some unsure, started making the main cut in the pigs stomach.

Rachel looked around the room - surprised to find everyone quite concentrated in their assignment, and no one to join her boycott. There were the good students, interestedly staring at the insides of the pig, taking notes. There was one all-black-clothes guy who cut his pig open with unnerving too much enthusiasm. There were the regular students, such as Quinn, who were slightly wrinkling their nose, not disgusted by the assignment but… slightly disgusted. And then there was Rachel, standing behind her table, biting her lip, looking down at her pig.

“I can’t” Rachel said more to herself than to anyone else “he’s so cute”.

“Ew” Quinn commented, her tone extremely sardonic, very Quinn “mine looks like a shrivelled up nasty”.

Rachel turned her head towards Quinn, and stared at her weirdly for a moment, before bursting into laugher. Quinn looked at her, from the corner of her eye, feigning disinterest.

“That’s horrible” Rachel said, practically wiping tears from her eyes “shrivelled up nasty. Because nasty wasn’t bad enough” Rachel couldn’t stop from letting out another giggle.

“Seriously”.

“Big, the pig” Rachel quietly mumbled, staring down at the poor thing.

“I can’t believe you just named the thing” Quinn gasped, shaking her head.

“I can’t believe you just said shrivelled up nasty” Rachel laughed back.

On time.

Pleased, Rachel frolicked downstairs at the sound of her house’s door bell. It was a good starting. Punctuality showed respect and values.

She paused before opening the door, checking her hair on the mirror at the entrance. After she thought she had given an appropriate amount of suspense, she breathed in a opened the door.

He was there, looking as charming and easy-going as always. Dark brown hair without any strategic hairstyle - so locks of hair brushed to the right, some to the left, some upwards - and, thank God, no hair gel. White teeth - very important - and tiny, almost eye-proof dimples, on the corners of his lips, when he smiled. Dressed casually but not sloppy - dark jeans, perfect size for his type of body (not skinny, not baggy), blue v-neck sweater.

“Are you ready?” Finn asked, his dark brown eyes casually slipping around Rachel’s entrance hall.

“Yeah” she was already walking pass him. He smelled nice too.

“Wait” he seemed a little hesitant, his thumb gesturing, over his shoulder, Rachel’s house “shouldn’t I go inside? Endure the awkward parent questioning? I’m prepared”.

Rachel’s smile faded only for a moment that went by so quickly, only someone really perspicacious would have noticed the change of expressions. Finn didn’t “it’s okay. They’re not in there” she smiled charmingly “but it’s a good thing that you’re prepared”.

“Oh, well” Finn shrugged “a prepared man is worth two” he casually stated, as he walked by Rachel’s side towards his black Range Rover, parked just on the sidewalk, waiting for them.

“Hum?”.

“Portuguese saying. It actually goes “a prepared woman is worth two”, but for the obvious reasons I adapted into…” he didn’t care for finishing the sentence “my aunt is Portuguese and she taught me that…” the subject developed from there, until they arrived the restaurant.

Rachel wasn’t the biggest fan of pizza, but as she didn’t absolutely hated it, she thought she would wait until they got to know better before revealing that fact. Conversation during dinner was not hard - Finn seemed to nail, pretty well, the listening and the talking part, which was absolutely the most important thing to have a conversation - and Rachel found herself thinking what a pleasant evening this was - before reminding herself that it wasn’t the end of it, there was actually more to come. And, according to the fluidity of the night, there were good expectations for the continuation.

Finn insisted in paying the check - as Rachel expected but not hoped - and - Rachel noticed, because it is the small things that make the best indications of what kind of person someone is - left a generous tip for the nice waiter who kept checking in on them and was so nice in updating Finn on the football game that was happening, every once in a while.

The next stop was a type of underground bar Rachel had never heard about, where Finn’s friends’ band was playing. When they arrived, Finn made sure to introduce Rachel to his friends and, for a moment, Rachel feared she was going to get lost in the middle of the guy talk, but then she discovered that Finn wasn’t letting that happen - another point for consideration - as he wished his friends good luck and took Rachel to find a couch where they could sit and talk before the concert began.

When the concert began, and everyone started gathering around the stage, Rachel asked Finn if they could stay back, because she didn’t really enjoy being in the mosh-pit or anything of the kind. Rachel was actually congratulating herself for that choice, during the concert, when a sudden fight broke down just a couple of people away from them. Instinctively, she got closer to Finn, who was by her side, and he, immediately, protectively set his arm around her shoulder and pressed her against himself. She couldn’t help but to feel comforted - he was a tall, well-built man, who she knew was able to push the drunken people back, if they pushed them.

By the end of the concert, Rachel was very well impressed. He obviously had given a little thought into the night. Knowing that she was a music fan he wanted for them to do something that involved that fact, and - even though the band was a little heavy for her taste - she had enjoyed their energy and their concert. The security feeling he gave her - standing in the middle of riotous - was very promising and she appreciated his constant attempts to make her enjoy herself.

When the band finally left the stage, and the crowd watching started heading for the door or for a new round of drinks, Rachel looked up expectantly at Finn, waiting for him to orient them on what to do next. It couldn’t be past one am, which was an acceptable hour to go home on a first date but…

“So” Finn finally approached the subject, his hands stuck on his jeans pockets, relaxingly “what do you want to do next? Do you want me to take you home?”.

Rachel smiled shyly, looking at the floor “what would be the other option?” she asks, still expectantly.

“Well… we could find ourselves another bar. Quieter. To talk” he answers, hesitating.

Then Rachel ponders her options. The first one was home: an empty, depressing house, which the best thing to do there would be read her book, since she didn’t feel like sleeping at all. That seemed like what she had been doing her entire year.

The other option was standing right in front of her: cute, nice guy, with adorable dimples, who she was really starting to get in to and she felt like knowing better.

“I don’t feel like going home” Rachel decided, with a provocative smile. Finn knew that this was his cue, and, promptly, he led them to another bar.

The ride back home was quiet - yet comfortable. From the corner of the eye Rachel could observe Finn mainly handling the wheel; eyes on the rode and lips vaguely pursed, thoughtfully. He was a good driver. Or maybe he was just careful when Rachel was in the car and as soon as she left started pulling out tricks and having accidents. But the important thing was that Rachel didn’t feel like she was about to die - something she couldn’t say about her last boyfriend’s driving.

Rachel leaned against the car door, absent-mindedly staring at the familiar neighbourhood; lines of strict twin houses, painted of different colours by the need of the owners to stand out in the middle of the other identical ones. Perfectly trimmed lawns following one another, with some ordinary, other original, mailboxes at one end.

There was no one outside, and Rachel curiously turned to look at the car’s clock and she gasped at what she discovered the time was. Finn looked at her, half-amused, half-inquiring, but then turned his attention back on the road, only smiling slightly. The silence was comfortable, and he wasn’t going to break it.

It wasn’t that Rachel was worried about what her dads would say about her coming in so late, but it was more of a self-imposed time to be back at the house.

Finally, Finn pulled over his jeep on the sidewalk, directly in front of Rachel’s lawn. Quietly, the brunette noticed how the boy had turned off his car, and not simply pulled over.

Firstly Rachel inspected the house - although the front door’s light was on, as always, there were no lights inside the house, which tipped her for the conclusion that her dads were already asleep. Which was good.

Then, slowly, Rachel turned her body towards Finn, to say goodnight. Before she could think about what would be appropriate to say at that moment, he resolved the problem, leaning forwards and capturing her lips with his own. It was gentle, careful. Rachel enjoyed it and just smiled, before getting outside of the car.

Part 3