We Are Going to Make It: Chapter 8/16
With a quick turn of the dial and close of the curtain, Quinn closed her eyes and let the water massage her back.
Each drop of hot water untangled the daunting cluster of knots in her shoulders. She always stayed in the shower a little too long, never wanting to leave the searing heat of the water. It was the perfect place to think. As she slid her head underneath the streaming water and massaged the shampoo into her scalp, her mind began to race. She was going to see Rachel tonight. At a coffee shop. Alone. Together. A smile graced over her lips. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t eager to see the brunette. It had only been a day but she already missed Rachel’s company.
Rachel…
Her eyes slowly closed and her smile widened as she thought of the brunette. She remembered her brown wavy hair that fell like a waterfall down her toned shoulders. The blonde rubbed her body with soft soap and her mind then wandered towards their hug from the previous night. She couldn’t place her finger on it but there was something special about it, something she had never felt before in anyone’s arms. It had lingered, and Quinn still remembered her scent, how intoxicating it was. A small whimper released from her lips as her hands traveled down her body. Her body recalled the feel of her not at all man hands around her body, pulling her closer and closer into the warmth, soft hands rubbing small circles in her back and that enthralling smell. A pool of heat formed in the pit of her stomach as she continued to envision the brunette, her legs in the dress she wore every night at the theater, a long red dress with the halter top, and how they seemed to be never-ending. Her hazel eyes had traveled down the endless trail of tan, smooth skin in the darkness of the theater.
“Hey, baby.”
Quinn jumped out of her skin at the feel of two actual man hands caressing her hips.
Sam.
She released a breath and laughed nervously.
“Hey,” she breathed as he began to rub his bare body against hers, obviously wanting something other than a shower.
Goosebumps began to form on her hot skin as his hands roamed her body.
“Sam!” she exclaimed as he entered territory she had not yet given him permission to enter.
“What?” he said with a look of disbelief.
She cleared her throat.
“I actually needed to you know, shower.”
His mouth opened, then closed. Then he nodded as he moved his hands up to her shoulders.
“You’re so uptight, baby. Let me massage you a bit.”
He grunted as he harshly began to dig his coarse hands into her previously relaxed but currently tense shoulders. She rolled her eyes, unbeknownst to the blonde massaging her, and sighed. Quinn knew this should turn her on or something, but she was too nervous about her…outing with Rachel to be turned on, especially to a man who was practically forcing himself on her. She pulled out of his grip and turned around to face him. A blush pervaded her cheeks as he stared with longing eyes at her body.
“Sam, I really need to get ready. I’m going out tonight and I need to leave in less than an hour,” she said as firmly as she could.
He was still drooling over her body and didn’t process what she had just told him.
“Uh huh,” he mumbled, his eyes trailing down her hips.
God he is such a boy!
“Sam!”
Finally her husband snapped out of his trance and looked her in the eyes in a sort of daze.
“Yeah?” he asked obliviously.
She rolled her eyes impatiently. How did she manage to marry someone so dimwitted?
Well, he’s leaps and bounds from Finn.
“Sam, I need to finish showering and get ready. I’m going out tonight. So if you could please stop drooling over me like a piece of bacon that would be lovely.”
His eyebrows furrowed and his lips contorted into a frown.
“You’re going out tonight?”
Quinn nodded, the water starting to cool as the hot water began to run out.
“Where?”
She knew he’d ask this question. Quinn never went out, especially on Saturdays unless it was with her mother or Sam. Even though she had promised herself she wouldn’t, she had lost track with most of her friends from college and high school. It wasn’t like her phone was ringing twenty-four hours a day with people asking to hang out with her.
“Out,” she mumbled ambiguously.
“You’re going to that stupid play again, aren’t you? Jesus, Quinn what is with you? You hate plays! And you hate Rachel so I don’t get why you’d rather see that than be with me in the shower.”
“I don’t hate plays and I certainly do not hate Rachel.”
He scoffed at her.
“Quinn, you’ve never asked me to take you to plays and you tortured Rachel in high school. If that wasn’t hate I don’t know what is.”
Her blood began to boil. He had no right to bring that up. Contrary to his belief, Sam had no idea who she was in high school nor does he have the slightest clue of who she is now. No one knew who she was in high school. She didn’t know who she was in high school.
“People change, Sam. I may have tortured her, but I never hated her. Not for a minute.”
“Then why do you want to see this stupid play again? It’s like the sixth time you’ve seen it. It’s like you’re avoiding me or something.”
He looked hurt, honestly he did; but Quinn could care less. She decided to weigh out her options.
Option 1: Spend the night with Sam, in the shower while he thrust himself inside of her while she faked pleasure. Afterwards they’d probably watch Avatar or something ridiculous that he thought she liked but truly despised.
Option 2: See a play she had fallen in love with the moment the curtain fell and then hang out with Rachel Berry, a girl who not only made her laugh, but made her smile. Have coffee at a comfy spot and get to know her the real way, the right way.
She’d be an idiot to choose option one.
“I’m not avoiding you, Sam, don’t be stupid. I just love this show and I want to take some time to get to know Rachel a bit more. She’s not nearly as annoying as you think she is.”
Sam slammed his hand on the shower dial immediately stopping the water from warming Quinn’s body. She shivered as she looked into his eyes. Okay, now he truly looked hurt.
“Take me to the play, Quinn.”
Her jaw dropped.
“What?”
“You heard me. I want to see what the hell is so awesome about this play because it’s got my wife wanting it more than sex with her husband. Let’s go get dressed.”
Shit, shit, shit, shit. This is not happening. Seriously?
“Sam, you- you wouldn’t like it.”
He shrugged.
“If it’s something you like, I need to see it. Maybe it can be something we’ll enjoy together.”
His hand grabbed her wrist and she whimpered at the touch, out of fear, not pleasure; Sam took it to mean the latter feeling. A sly grin pervaded his face.
“Come on, babe. It’ll be fun.”
Quinn gulped and nodded. This was going to be a disaster.
***
Rachel skipped off stage and into her dressing room, still riding the incredible high she got from performing each night. It was her second performance of the night, yet she felt as though she could keep going forever. As she grabbed her water bottle from the table, she looked into the mirror. Her skin was flushed and there were small beads of sweat forming on her forehead. She flashed herself a smile and began to get dressed, drinking her water as she searched for her jeans.
Her heart was pounding now and the brunette began to feel nervous suddenly. It had just dawned on her that she was about to go out for coffee with Quinn Fabray. A genuine smile formed on her face and remained there until she was fully out of her costume and into something much more comfortable. High school Rachel would not be caught dead in the outfit she wore. The woman clad in tight jeans, a black turtle neck, her “R” necklace, and a nice pair of heals would have caused sixteen year old Rachel Berry to faint. After three make up and hair checks, Rachel deemed herself appropriate and shut the lights on her way out of her dressing room.
She made her way through the lobby, thanking the occasional fan. Honestly, she wasn’t paying attention to the two or three people asking for her to sign their programs; her eyes were searching for a tall blonde with heart-stopping hazel eyes. Then, out of nowhere, she spotted the girl she was looking for. Just as a bright smile was forming on her already flushed face, she saw that Quinn was not alone. A tall, muscular blonde with a mop of a haircut was clutching the girl to his side as he talked to her in a rather hushed tone. The look on her face was one mixed with annoyance, fear, and anxiety. Something was wrong. Quinn wore a simple black dress and ballet flats that were a shimmering silver. She held her wrist tightly and shifted her weight as Sam scolded her in her right ear. Rachel took a deep breath and tried to ignore the disappointment she felt at the sight of the two with linked arms. As confidently as she could, Rachel walked over to the couple with the best smile she could muster up.
“Why hello there, Quinn! How nice of you to come! Sam!” she exclaimed and hugged the man, freeing the blonde from his tight grip.
As she left the hug, Rachel noticed Quinn rubbing the arm that had been held hostage by Sam’s death grip. Quinn’s face said she was fine, but her eyes were filled with panic. It was beyond obvious that she didn’t want Sam there.
“So, Sam, how have you been? It’s been forever since we’ve talked. What are you up to these days, besides being married to such a lovely lady?”
He swallowed heavily and glanced over to Quinn whose eyes were glued to the floor.
“Well, we’ve been doing well actually, Rachel. I work over at the bank 9-5pm. You seem to be doing…well yourself.”
Rachel winced slightly at his lie. It would be obvious to anyone that she was indeed not doing well.
“That’s wonderful, Sam.”
Quinn looked at Rachel, their eyes meeting for the first time that evening, and Rachel was taken aback by her sadness. All she wanted was to make the pain go away so she could gaze into her sparkling hazel eyes.
“Oh my goodness, I am such an idiot!” Rachel exclaimed.
Sam looked puzzled. The brunette sighed and winked at Quinn.
“I left my chap stick in my dressing room.”
Quinn quickly caught on.
“Oh, oh. Uhm, I’ll go get it for you Rachel. I remember where it is.”
Rachel batted her eyelashes, putting on what she believed the performance of a lifetime.
“Thank you so much, Quinn,” she said loudly as the blonde went off to retrieve the girl’s chap stick.
Once the two were alone, Rachel went in for the kill.
“Sam, can I be frank?” she asked suddenly, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had fallen over them.
“Sure,” he said indifferently.
“I had invited Quinn for coffee after my show tonight. I had no idea she would be bringing you nor did I know she was even attending the show in the first place. I’m assuming you are unaware of my invitation.”
“No I was not aware,” Sam said as he looked down to the floor, obviously feeling guilty that he had gotten mad at his wife for nothing.
“It’s just, we’ve had a very, very rocky past and both of us are tired of pretending to hate each other. That is why I invited her to spend time with me tonight. I really want to become closer to her, considering I have little friends here in Lima.”
Sam nodded, understanding the brunette’s reasoning.
“I see,” he said neutrally, not truly okay with what he thought she was proposing.
She looked at him with big, innocent eyes.
“Do…you still want to grab coffee with her?”
“Yes!” she said a little too enthusiastically, “I mean, yes, that would be ideal. Do you mind lending me your wife for the evening? I have a car so I will get her home as soon as we’re done with our coffee, I promise.”
Sam mulled over the idea. Was he crazy about the idea of his wife hanging out with someone that wasn’t him? No, but Rachel was a friend and a sweet girl who Quinn seemed to like.
“Okay then. I don’t see why not,” he said quietly.
And then Rachel was hugging him harder than he had ever been hugged in his life. When he was released from her grasp, she was beaming and just in time too. Quinn had returned with the chap stick in hand.
“Quinn! You found it!” Rachel squealed and ran over to the blonde who was beaming just as brightly.
“It wasn’t easy, but yes I have found it.”
“Where was it?” Rachel asked curiously.
Quinn laughed.
“In the drawer labeled ‘Rachel Berry’s Chap Sticks.”
Rachel blushed and looked over to Sam who was not amused by their banter.
“Well, I better go. You two have fun, I guess. See you at home, baby,” Sam said and forcefully enveloped Quinn’s lips with his in a sloppy kiss, claiming his wife in the gesture.
He flashed the blonde a smile, gave a small glare to the brunette, and left the building strutting cockily. The blonde gaped as she watched her husband leave in disbelief.
“How did you do that?” she asked as she turned back to Rachel who was smiling deviously.
“Quinn, as you know, I am well trained in the dramatic arts, therefore I used my skills to convince your husband that all I really wanted was to hang out with my newly acquainted friend, and you fit the bill. It wasn’t really acting, to say the truth, but it worked, didn’t it?”
Quinn smiled and nodded.
“Yes, it did work. Thank you, by the way. I didn’t plan on him coming.”
“It’s quite alright, Quinn. I had a feeling you didn’t know he’d be attending which is why I initiated plan: have Quinn get my chap stick from my room so I can convince Sam to go home so I can hang out with Quinn alone without his looming presence.”
Quinn laughed.
“Looming presence?”
“It sounded better in my head,” Rachel admitted with a laugh.
The blonde sighed and realized that they were completely and utterly alone. The lobby was empty, the doorman and audience members gone for the night. Suddenly, Rachel became quite serious.
“Quinn Fabray, would you like to accompany me into the theater?”
Quinn nodded and gave her a small smile.
“I’d love too.”
Rachel grabbed her hand eagerly, and dragged her down the isle of the tiny theater towards her home. They bounded up the stairs and onto the empty stage. The instant they arrived on the stage, Rachel dropped Quinn’s hand and stared out into the audience, as if it were a full house. She let out a deep breath she had been holding and closed her eyes. Quinn gazed at the brunette as she admired her movements. She truly belonged on the stage, Quinn could see it clearly now. Never before had she seen Rachel so comfortable, so at ease. Her shoulders were not tense, her expression no longer forced into a smile. Her lips were a single, pink, thin line. The girl’s breathing echoed throughout the theater.
“You really love it here, don’t you?” Quinn asked softly.
Rachel still didn’t open her eyes.
“It is the one place where I don’t have to pretend to be someone I’m not.”
Quinn knew exactly what the brunette was talking about. She felt the same way except not about being on stage. The only other time she felt she could truly be herself, truly herself, was when she was painting. Long before she had met Sam or became popular, Quinn’s father had bought her an easel and paint for her ninth birthday. She had spent hours painting flowers and the sky in her backyard during the summertime. She painted the snow in the winter, the trees in the fall, and the lilies that grew outside of her window in the spring. It had been years since she had painted, but something about stroking the brush down the clean canvas made her feel so powerful. She was completely in control, unstoppable.
“You were incredible tonight, Rachel,” Quinn complimented quietly, partly hoping Rachel wouldn’t hear.
The brunette’s eyes snapped open and she turned to face the blonde who was now blushing.
“Really?” she breathed in disbelief.
Quinn nodded and walked closer to the actress. She hesitantly placed a hand on her shoulder and looked her straight in the eye.
“You are incredible.”
Rachel felt her heart palpate and her palms sweat. The blonde’s face was so close to hers and all she could concentrate on was how smooth her porcelain skin was, how long her eyelashes were, and how wonderful she smelled. Her shoulder was tingling where Quinn’s gentle hand lay. Slowly, Rachel placed her hand on top of the one caressing her shoulder. She felt a rush of electricity ripple through her at the feel of the skin on her bare hand. They stood there, hand over hand, eyes penetrating the other in an intimate stare, for a few minutes, before Rachel realized what they were doing was not exactly friendly.
She removed her hand from the girl’s hand, immediately longing to return to the warmth of the soft extremity.
“Shall we go and get some coffee?” she asked theatrically.
Quinn seemed to be in a daze and could only nod while Rachel linked their arms as they walked down the stairs to the lobby. It was strange how natural it felt being together, having their arms linked, like they fit together perfectly. Quinn was smiling brightly as she felt her heart race. She had never felt this way before. With Sam she felt trapped, like she was on a leash. Now she felt safe and secure as Rachel’s arm fit snug between hers.