Fic: What Rachel Knows Chapter 3
Alright, sorry this one took so long. I have a definite direction for this story, but it is taking longer to get there than I thought. Would you believe that I thought this was going to be a one shot at first. Any way, between a goose flying into a transformer and causing a power outage and a plot bunny that will be a one-shot that is about half done, it took me a while to get this chapter so lets hope the next one doesn't take as long.
PS - This is the last nice Quinn chapter...
Chapter Three - Notice Me Nicely
That moment when she first saw the picture was shocking. It wasn’t just a quick sketch, there was effort in every pencil stroke and it took that look in the mirror for Rachel to put two and two together because what Quinn had drawn looked like a real carousel, not the stencilized version on her shirt. In the moment, thoughts had flown through Rachel’s head with such alarming speed that she had immediately grabbed her notebook to get them jotted down. She didn’t quite know what to make of this, but one idea stood out in her mind. An idea that she quickly shook her head to get rid of because it really was absurd.
Having two gay dads and watching their interactions growing up had painted their lifestyle as a norm in her mind, but usually her interactions with the often homophobic students at her school was enough to shake the notion from her. The town had always been quick to remind her that her life was not normal, but it had never really hit her until she had called Brittany and Santana a cute couple in middle school. It was an easy mistake as they did act more like they were dating then friends and Rachel had never interacted closely enough to know better. All she saw was two people constantly whispering to each other, locking pinkies as they walked down the hall, always always touching, and the overwhelming dependency the two seemed to have with each other. The only thing missing had been the kissing, and Rachel had always figured it was because PDA was heavily discouraged in school, plus they were all pretty young still. Still, when Rachel saw Santana see Brittany off with a gentle kiss on the cheek, she thought it had been a great opportunity to make a new friend. It wasn’t.
Santana had given her a great tongue-lashing and brought up her fathers for the first time. It was all perfectly ridiculous because it had been a compliment, and Rachel hadn’t even said it in front of other people. Santana had always been a bit harsh with her after that but generally tried to avoid any interactions with the younger girl, possibly to prevent any future comments that would bring undue attention. Rachel just didn’t see what the big deal was, but Santana wasn’t fooling anyone - well, anyone with half a brain. Maybe they weren’t dating or exclusive, but something was going on or else Santana wouldn’t have made such a big deal, but Rachel didn’t really care. It was their private life, their personal information, she had just been trying to be nice and give a compliment without prompting and without expecting one back - something her court-appointed therapist of the week had recommended. (Not that she needed one! She hadn’t really been threatening the dance judge! He had misconstrued the situation…s, and the Judge clearly only believed him because she had been raised by two gay dads! What part of her looked like a hooligan! Whatever!)
Rachel understood that her mind went to the gay place a little faster than most people, that was the only possible reason most people thought Brittany and Santana were just best friends. So Rachel let this idea drift to the back of her mind, not completely forgetting it but refusing to let it fester or affect her actions. Still, even with this idea shrouded in the back of her mind, she did find her interest in Quinn shifting. Before she was actively trying to ignore Quinn, and she would continue this set of actions, but know she was curious and this curiosity might have affected her outlook. She noticed, for example, that Quinn had taken to carrying a very nice sketchbook around that she often seemed to distract herself with. Rachel could only make guesses about what it contained.
But Rachel tried ignore the guesses her mind cooked up and ignored the continued glances and just ignored Quinn in general. And she usually succeeded.
After a couple of weeks of this, and, to be honest, she was getting better at the ignore Quinn thing to the point where it had basically become second nature, things started to get a little rougher. She had been doing a phenomenal job at putting aside her curiosity in art class, setting aside the sweltering stares in gym class, and paying attention for academic reasons only in their shared pre-honors classes. But it seemed that Quinn was getting tired of this.
It should be made clear that her intent was never to hurt the other girl’s feelings or anything like that, so she wouldn’t go out of her way to ignore the girl when everyone else was paying attention, like when Quinn did a presentation during History class. She didn’t want to make it seem like she was ignoring the other girl on purpose, though she was, but that she was just inattentive to her. To make this clearer, she didn’t treat her like Jacob Ben Israel who she would jump into bathrooms to avoid -though this often led to him trying to peek inside - or Santana who she made it a point to avoid on all levels in the sake of self-preservations. More than anything, Rachel tried to treat Quinn as if she was any other nameless classmate. And, apparently, when one is the Princess of the school, this is completely noticeable in its own right. Or maybe it was just because it was Rachel doing the not noticing.
So while she appeared busy and focused on the outside, a part of her was keeping track of Quinn. It was this part that noticed Quinn’s increasingly desperate attempts for attention. She still made no outward sign of her attention - if Quinn wanted a response then she could reach out like Rachel had done and actually risk something - but she noticed all the same.
She supposes it started in their Art class, though Quinn had been moving so gradually she cannot really be sure.
She assumes Quinn caught on to her repeated glances at her work - not her fault, after that first one, she figured it would be a great look into Quinn’s mind - and was now being extra secretive, but obviously so. Quinn was not nearly the amazing actress that Rachel was, she could go cold and impassive - she was very good at her mask - but was not very good at faking emotions and was a horrendous liar. You would have to be an idiot to believe them. And while Quinn was trying to tempt her into making an obvious play for the book, Rachel figured that their wouldn’t be anything Quinn wouldn’t mind her seeing, and thus nothing interesting.
But her apparent lack of interest, made worse since it had apparently lessoned from curious to completely apathetic, seemed to make Quinn a little more desperate. The other day in English, Quinn, who always got A’s on her papers and tests but rarely spoke up in class and never for very long, was the first to raise her hand. Not only did she actively continue participating in the class discussion, rather than using the initial participation to convince the teacher to leave her alone, but her remarks were thoughtful and clever. Rachel could barely hide a smile as she faced forward and tried to ignore the quick glances Quinn sent her way after each comment.
It continued through their math class and Rachel was even more impressed. Quinn’s input may not have spawned class discussions or anything, but it was math. The fact that Quinn was able to clearly and correctly answer the questions was remarkable if only because they were starting a new chapter. Rachel didn’t have a problem with math, per se, but she also didn’t have an affinity towards it. She paid attention in class - as everyone should - and studied every night - as everyone should - and that was enough to get her through it. She never needed tutoring or even spending extra time on it, but she worried about the future when math gets more difficult than the square root of 4…which is two. But Quinn clearly had a strong grasp on the subject.
When attempts at getting her attention through the proof that she had a brain, and was therefore different than at least sixty percent of their school - and eighty percent of her social category - failed, Quinn switched to a drastically different manner of getting her attention.
It occurred in gym class, which was fitting considering this is where Rachel really first noticed the girl and where Rachel first offered her friendship. And was shot down.
And Quinn wasn’t really making up for that. She still hadn’t made any verbal contact and Quinn hadn’t made any sign of sticking up for her with the teasing that seemed to be gradually, and inexplicably, worse. She had looked conflicted a couple of times, but the closest she had come was when she slammed the door into Jacob (who had now earned the unfortunate nickname of Jewfro with their peers) when he had followed her a little too closely through the halls to their classroom.
But Quinn was becoming more and more desperate for the mutual attention the two had shared before that particular gym class. Rachel wasn’t sure if she was still upset with the girl or if she remained resolute out of any real need for Quinn to learn a lesson. Sure, she felt that she was worth a real friendship, but if Quinn was only comfortable with a long distance… acquaintanceship, then did Rachel have any right to demand more.
Especially considering how, even though she wasn’t publicly displaying her desires, she clearly wanted Rachel’s attention.
Quinn was always one of those girls who did not really participate much in gym class. It wasn’t that she unable or anything, as far as Rachel could tell Quinn seemed quite athletic. But she always seemed to prefer the appearance of the regal queen, observing the people below running and getting sweaty. It was actually a little humorous in Rachel’s appearance because many of Rachel’s female compatriots wished to not participate in any class oriented exercise. But Quinn was the only girl that got away with it. Apparently it was some Sue Sylvester mandated order - any potential Cheerios of any worth should not participate in any activity not sanctioned by Sue Sylvester due to the risk of injury or molding the body in a way that makes it unusable. Even though none of the girls were officially eligible for Cheerios until ninth grade, Sue Sylvester still had a strong hold on the school. Rachel worried about that.
But among all the girls in the class, only Quinn, Brittany, and Santana really had this ability to use their potential Cheerios status to create unrest among the teachers. And while Rachel had seen Santana use this ability to get out of a history test - apparently the class book conflicted with Sylvester on many subjects - Quinn was the only one to use this to get out of gym class. Brittany just loved all the activities and games and dragged Santana, who was already somewhat willing due to her more than healthy competitive streak, along for the ride.
But today was different. When the teacher, a somewhat larger lady who spent most of the class period reading magazines in her office after giving orders, started assigning teams for soccer, she automatically skipped over Quinn.
On most days, this was exactly what Quinn wanted. But that day, Quinn immediately scoffed at the teacher.
“Excuse me,” Quinn started, a sneer in her voice but trying to maintain an air of politeness, “you skipped over me.”
“Oh,” their teacher started, not very intelligently, “you want to participate?”
“Obviously,” Quinn said, eyes rolling, “why wouldn’t I?”
Their teacher did not mention the fact that Quinn had not actually participated in a single class session aside from the few focusing on straight running, and, instead, she quickly assigned her to a team. As Quinn joined the rest of her team, she shot a quick, triumphant grin in Rachel’s direction. The teacher quickly moved on, assigning Santana and Brittany’s team opposite Quinn’s and putting Rachel on the third and final team that would play next. Rachel’s sixth sense buzzed uncertainly, alerting her that Quinn’s participation, while normally a good thing, might not be the best for today.
The students took to the field slowly, both Santana and Quinn grabbing the offensive position that was right in the middle, what their information sheet (easier than actually teaching the positions) called center forward. Rachel wandered to the sidelines with the rest of her team and settled in to watch the game. Normally, when her active or passive participation is unnecessary, Rachel likes to organize ways to establish and nurture her talent - last week she decided to start creating electronic copies of her practice performances that she may one day share with the world - but she figures she should watch the other team sense Quinn is acting somewhat strangely. And she’s glad she did.
Right off the bat, it is quite clear that Quinn is trying to prove something and Rachel can’t help but wonder if this is really about her or if Santana started something, because right away she is going after the Latina. Then again, Santana’s the only real contender in the game.
Quinn is already one of the better athletes in the class, though she normally chooses not to show it, but she also inspires a certain amount of fear in the other girls as well, causing them to let her steal the soccer ball with little to no fight. Aside from Brittany who is currently chasing a butterfly, but goes after the ball when it’s nearby, Santana is the only one who is not content with letting Quinn basically play soccer with herself.
The two begin a rousing game of two-man soccer, occasionally using the other girls to bounce the ball off of. Rachel doesn’t typically follow soccer and the written instructions are a somewhat poor guide, - and Rachel suspects the girls are not following traditional rule anyway - she is easily wowed by the sheer athleticism the girls are displaying. Although she also worries about the how violent both of the girls are. But through-out it all, after every steal, goal, and tackle - though Rachel is almost positive people aren’t supposed to tackle each other in soccer, Quinn shoots a look in Rachel’s direction.
The looks are not her normal adoring gaze, but remind Rachel of the one time she got to meet her little cousin, Alexander. The boy had just begun walking and was still in amazement at his own ability. Every time he made it across the room without falling, he would look to his parents with that same expression.
Are you watching? Did you see that? Did you like it?
While Rachel is certainly appreciating the game and can easily say that the other girl’s physique and skill is impressive, every time Quinn looks at her - wondering and hopeful just like her little cousin, Rachel keeps her gaze trained elsewhere in the game. She’s not averting her gaze or making any gesture to indicate she was paying any attention. A part of her wants to see how far she can push this, but another is so confused with everything - half hopeful herself, but also worried at what is going on - she just wants to ignore it and wait it out.
Soon enough though, the teacher exits her office and switches teams so that it is Rachel’s against Santana’s (and Brittany’s) and putting Quinn on the sideline. Unlike Quinn, Rachel is not trying to attract any attention - she performs on stage and in lights not a muddy field - and only plays with as much enthusiasm as needed. She puts her all into it and tries her best, but never really enjoys most sports.
She’s decent enough at them. She’s in excellent shape and is very coordinated, and, when the mood strikes, her competitive side can give her quite the fierce edge. But she’s something about the unplanned savagery of sports has always turned her off a little. She has to think of her future after all, and one wrong tumble could ruin her chances at stardom.
Also, and this is a little embarrassing, the improvisational nature of sports have always been her biggest downfall, mostly working with and relying on other team members. It’s weird. She knows what they’ll be doing, but it never really clicks with her. In team sports, she always misjudges who wants the ball or who is passing, just the overall silent communication that most people find so easy. If she is going to exercise, she prefers it to be something simple and repetitive, like yoga or cardio-training. If it is a competitive sport, she prefers something not team-oriented, like tennis. And if she must work with other people, she wants it scripted and rehearsed, where she knows what she is supposed to be doing and what others are doing, like …cheerleading? Most team sports rely on how well teammates react to each other, and Rachel just had difficulty in this area.
With that in mind, it is no wonder that her soccer game did not go as well as the previous one. Nobody really wanted to go up against Santana, so they mostly just pretended to be playing against her while mostly staying out of her way. And maybe it would have been just fine if she had been in a field position where she could stay in the same spot and still give 100% while not really becoming a nuisance, but because of her difficulty working in groups that was becoming somewhat known, her teammates had stuffed her in the goal post.
Basically, she was the only thing coming between an enthusiastic Santana and a goal and she honestly couldn’t bring herself to just fake an effort and give up the shot. So she spent the rest of the period trying her best to prevent a goal, over and over again since her teammates made absolutely no effort to help, and, even though Rachel only managed to block every third shot, it was obviously bugging the other girl.
It was so frustrating, and worrisome judging by Santana’s increasingly deteriorating expression, that Rachel did not even notice any glances from Quinn the entire period, eyes glued to Santana. The teacher let this continue for most of the rest of the class, perhaps too absorbed in a game of minesweeper to keep track of the clock, before sending them on a quick cool down lap. Rachel could not cool down, however, as Santana, apparently still incensed from the game, spent the time shoving and tripping her up, much to the amusement of the rest of her immature (or frightened into obedience) classmates.
She quickly made her way into the locker room and began to change back into her clothes, but kept one eye on Santana in fear of what she might do next.
“Yo, Goal keep, I know I’m one hot chica, but you best be keeping your eyes to yourself before I go over there and make you,” Santana taunted from the other side of the room.
Rachel blushed and turned away, averting her eyes for the first time. She didn’t respond, hoping not to provoke the girl further. Truthfully, while Santana had a perfectly lovely physique, and of course it wouldn’t matter what her gender was because Rachel had two gay dads, but Rachel honestly wasn’t interested in anyone right now. She found the idea of a significant other sometime in the future attractive, but currently didn’t yearn for it. Rachel had hypothesized to herself that either all the people in her grade that were currently hooking up were overly sexualized due to the media and how they think they should be behaving rather than their actual biological urges, or Rachel’s age difference with most of her peers actually created a noticeable difference in attitudes and opinions. Even if her only suitor wasn’t Jacob Ben Israel - who had been found looting through her trash again - she didn’t see herself responding to any suitor invitations anyway. Still, she did not want people to think she was molesting Santana with her eyes or anything.
Which is why she did not see the other girl stalk up to her until she was pushed lightly against the wall.
“Listen here,” Santana started, giving her only partially clothed body an overly obvious once over, “Treasure Trail,” and Rachel’s brow furrows, not knowing the terminology, but figuring it is insulting, “you just can’t seem to find your place, so I’m gonna help put you there, okay.”
Some part of her knows she should just stay quiet, avert her eyes and ignore the words spewing at her. But she can’t. Her dads always told her to ignore the bullies, but keep her head high. They never told her to kill them with kindness, but told her that she’s better than anyone who would pick on her and she should always remember that. When they make fun of her, she was told to look them in the eyes and make them face what they’re doing. She doesn’t think Santana cares, but, even as her body begs to flinch away, she holds eye contact and stands up straight.
It should, hypothetically, be easy. She is already used to the sneers and giggles of her classmates, she has two gay dads and no filter, but never has anyone confronted her like this without any provocation. She’s been snipped and even yelled at, but always there has been a reason, maybe not a very good one, but a reason none the less. All she did to Santana was play a soccer game, and with less enthusiasm than Quinn. At the thought, Rachel’s head shifts to look at the other girl, not on purpose, but Santana’s voice stops her in her tracks.
“Eyes up here, Treasure Trail. See, what you really need is a lesson in etiquette, and not that fancy shit your homo-dads probably taught you, but high school etiquette, or as I call it “lessons on how to be a normal human being” since you clearly need it. Or at least a intro since I’m not wasting any more time on you than I have to.” Santana is inches away, words spat quietly but Rachel hears every one of them clearly and she suspects the rest of the locker room does too. They’re probably enjoying this, not because it’s Rachel, but because most people seem to like watching Santana lash out - as long as it isn’t them.
“Rule one,” Santana sneers, lifting up a solitary finger and mockingly tapping her forehead, “Keep your eyes to yourself at all times. I don’t care about your reasons, but if I see you look in our direction again, my fists will make sure you won’t be seeing anything at the very least.”
Rachel swallows, not used to the threat of physical violence, though she does wonder if Santana has ever actually been in a fight. While Rachel has never been in an actual altercation, her dads have made sure she is capable of defending herself against predators - Lima has an astounding number of institutions that will teach that - but she doesn’t relish the idea of testing her skills.
“Rule two, stay out of our way. If I’m sunbathing, you best not be making shade. If I’m walking the halls, you best be pressed against the wall. And if I’m shooting a soccer ball, you best not be blocking any goals.”
Rachel’s hand clenched as she stares down the other girl. Santana has maintained the eye contact the entire time and, frankly, Rachel wants to look away. Rachel would settle for just glancing down, but she really wants to crawl into her locker and die.
It isn’t even the words, which are somewhat childish and nonsense, but the fact that everyone is watching as the taller girl looks down at her, fully dressed to her topless, and spews these insults. None of them are helping, in fact, most of them are snickering and smiling. Rachel gets that, to Santana, this is a performance, so she can understand the rush as the audience reacts just how you want them to, but this is one show that Rachel doesn’t want to be a part of.
“Rule three, and that last bit of knowledge your brain will, no doubt, fail to take in…put a shirt on. Nobody, and I mean nobody, wants to see your flat chest. But seriously, good luck growing something there, because it doesn’t look like anything’s sprouting anytime soon,” Santana finishes, sneer still in place.
Rachel holds her head high, holds back the tears, and continues staring at Santana even as the other girl walks off, locking pinkies with Brittany on the way out. Everyone follows her, but Rachel stays, gazing at the closed door that Santana left through. She hears the bell ring in the distance and shakes herself out of it, humming an inspirational song under her breath as she continues changing. By the time she has finished changing - taking the time to brush her hair and reapply light make-up because she is a Star and nobody will break her - she is belting the words to the empty locker room. Taking a final, deep breath, Rachel Barbra Berry (gold star) prances out of the room with her head held high.
She didn’t notice Quinn, who had stayed behind, hidden between a row of lockers. She didn’t notice Quinn at all once Santana had got going. With a peculiar look on her face, Quinn followed after the singer.