We Are Going to Make It: Chapter 9/16
The bell on the coffee shop door rang as the two girls entered the store.
A few people sat at the tables in the front, while one man resided in the back reading a book from the small selection the store had. Their arms were linked, both girls beaming, as they approached the counter to order. Rachel unhooked their arms and gazed up at the menu. Quinn stared as she watched Rachel’s lip slide between her teeth while she contemplated her order. It was adorable.
“What are you going to get, Rachel?” she asked, very much entertained by the girl’s quirks.
Rachel took a deep breath and stared Quinn straight in the eyes.
“I am going to get green tea,” she said with conviction.
Quinn blinked.
“Green tea?” she asked.
The brunette nodded.
“What’s wrong with green tea?”
“Nothing, nothing. I just thought you’d want something a bit more complicated than that.”
Rachel smiled, a blush pervading her already flushed skin. Of course the blonde ordered the same, and the two went to sit in a secluded corner in the back of the store. Surrounded by books, Quinn took a moment to scan the shelves, always eager to begin a new book. She had never been to this café before; it was quaint, low key, and just the place she needed to get away from her family.
“How did you know about this place?” she asked absently as she read the back cover of a book.
Rachel sat down at a table, her fingers tracing her name on the aged wood.
“When I first started working at the theater, I was still…well I call it upset but my parents choose to call it clinically depressed. Some nights were stressful, especially after a five hour rehearsal. One day, I took a breather and walked straight into the store without even looking. When I finally realized where I was I was pleasantly surprised. It’s so…quiet, isn’t it? It’s the perfect place to think.”
Quinn nodded and joined the brunette at the table. After a quick gaze at the counter, she refocused her attention to Rachel who was staring at her with an indecipherable look.
“What?” she asked without her usual defensive venom.
The girl shrugged and gazed out the window. It had begun to snow lightly and tiny flurries danced to the sidewalk at a slow graceful pace. She sighed. Rachel loved snow.
“I love snow,” she said softly, her eyes glued to the flakes falling to the ground.
It still amazed Quinn how emotional Rachel became over such trivial things like snow, or being alone on an empty stage. The blonde, instead of imitating Rachel, stared at her and drank in her features, her long flowing brown hair and deep chocolate eyes.
“You’re beautiful,” she breathed, immediately regretting it the moment the words escaped her mouth.
Shit! Did I just say that?
“I-I mean, the snow is so beautiful,” she stammered, her face as red as the coffee mug the waiter brought just in time.
“Two green teas?” he asked nonchalantly as he placed two mugs on the table.
“Thank you,” the girls said simultaneously.
He nodded and walked away. Quinn’s cheeks were still on fire as she was still in disbelief that she had actually said that. What possessed her to even say that? Sure, she knew Rachel was beautiful but she never had the guts or rather the stupidity to say it to her face. Shaking her head at her blatant slip up, she sighed.
What the hell is going on?
Thankfully, Rachel changed the subject quickly, although she was still in shock after hearing Quinn’s brutally honest confession. It warmed her heart, the approval of the blonde. Despite her superior acting skills, Rachel still could not stop the humongous smile from forming on her face. Quinn hadn’t stopped blushing.
“So Quinn, the last time we were in this situation I told you about my failures at musical theater. What did you do after graduation?”
Quinn sighed and ran her hand through her blonde hair.
“I went to college in California with Sam. My father took care of tuition for both of us and-,”
Rachel stopped sipping her tea.
“Wait, your father?”
The blonde nodded as she took a sip from her mug, the warmed tea bringing new life to her body.
“Wow, this is really good,” she breathed as she took a larger sip.
Rachel smiled.
“I’m glad we can agree on that. I drink it every day. It is much healthier than coffee and gives me the energy I need to perform in a vigorous show such as Rent.”
Quinn suppressed a giggle, loving how formal the brunette always was. You could never get a straight yes or no from her. She gazed as she saw her chocolate orbs brighten as she smiled. Then her look darkened a bit.
“So, you’re father…”she prompted slightly, trying to bring the conversation back to what she wanted to know.
Quinn’s life was a mystery, an enigma, and the brunette wanted to know everything she could. At the word father, Quinn winced, trying to suppress her obvious fear and hatred for the man.
“Right, my father,” she began, choosing her words very carefully, “he well…”
Her mouth wasn’t working correctly. For some reason she didn’t know what she wanted to tell Rachel. She could say what she always said, “He’s doing well and he and my mother are very happy,” Insert fake laugh here and if she’s feeling good a fake smile. But she didn’t want to be fake with Rachel or lie to her, especially after all they had been through. As if she had read the conflicted girl’s mind, Rachel reached over and placed her hand on Quinn’s.
“Hey,” she said softly, sensing Quinn’s distress, “if you don’t want to talk about him, I understand.”
Quinn shook her head. No one really knew her father the way she did. No one had seen his angry side like she had. For some reason, she trusted the brunette staring at her with compassion. No one had ever looked at her like that. It truly looked like Rachel was…concerned for her, wanted to relieve the pain that she felt, and was willing to listen to Quinn. It caught the blonde off guard. Not even her mother looked at her that way. So Quinn decided that the least she owed the brunette was the truth. She took a deep breath, her hand still in Rachel’s, and told her everything.
“If you didn’t know, my father is…” her breath hitched and Rachel squeezed her hand.
“My father is a monster,” she finally said in a low whisper, trying hard not to break.
“When I was younger, my family had Sunday church and dinner with my grandparents. My mother would force me into my nice dress and the stockings that made my knees itch and shoes that were too tight because they were Ali’s old ones. Daddy would drive us to church and in the car tell us the rules. 1. No speaking unless spoken to. 2. Smile whenever ever addressed. 3. Never say anything bad of your parents. We would go for the service and I remember sitting next to my father and my sister. Every now and then he’d glance over to make sure I was behaving. I never dared to move a muscle. Then, after he’d schmoozed a bit with the other donators, we’d drive home in silence. Talking was not allowed in the car. Our grandparents would come over for dinner. My mother had a special table cloth for the occasion and china that we were forbidden to touch. Dinner would be boring but if I yawned there would be hell to pay. I remember one Sunday, I went to grab the salt and I knocked over my father’s glass of wine. The room had gone silent, and I knew I was in trouble.”
Quinn took a shaky breath, trying desperately not to cry.
“He put on that smile of his and scooped me into his arms. ‘No worries, my dear, Mommy will clean it up. Come with me and we’ll get you cleaned off.’ I thought I was okay. He brought me upstairs and the minute we turned into his study I knew it was just an act. He-he sat me down and kicked me onto my knees. After he pulled out his belt, he pulled my Sunday dress up and-,”
The blonde’s throat tightened and a tear trickled down her porcelain skin. Before she could even think about how to cover up her breakdown, a pair of strong arms was around her. Quinn buried her head in the brunette’s hair, inhaling the scent of…strawberries. Normally Quinn would wipe her tears, ask to use the restroom, and cry alone, never in front of someone she knew, let alone cared about; but there was something about the girl’s arms that made her melt, made her let everything she was feeling out in the open. And Rachel just held her, her fingers absently stroking her blonde hair and rubbing her back. She had never seen Quinn so vulnerable before. Rachel was used to the pursed lips and glaring hazel eyes of the head bitch in charge, not the soft cracking voice and warm eyes of the shaking woman in her arms.
Once Quinn finally gained a bit of control, she reluctantly pulled out of Rachel’s arms. Her slender finger went to wipe her eyes, but the brunette’s hand beat her to the job. She felt a smooth hand wipe away the tears streaming down her normally composed face. Their eyes met, hazel colliding with brown, and what Quinn saw caught her off guard. She saw pain, pure pain. And she had no idea why.
“What?” she asked quietly.
Rachel shook her head gently and took Quinn’s hand in hers once more.
“It-it just kills me knowing that he did that to you. I wish I could have-,”
“You couldn’t have done anything, Rachel.”
Rachel nodded and gave the hand another squeeze, signaling Quinn to keep going. After another deep breath, Quinn opened her mouth.
“Midway through senior year, my father came back to my mother while I was in school. Somehow he convinced her to give him another chance. He’s been living with her ever since. He loved Sam, did the clichéd dinner with the parents and welcomed him into the ‘Fabray Family’. It was decided that we would go to university together. My parents would pay tuition for a school in California.”
“It was decided…for you?” Rachel questioned curiously.
Quinn nodded solemnly.
“Well, where did you want to go?”
“NYU. I got in too. My plan was to major in education.”
“Did your parents know about this?”
“No, they didn’t know I applied or got in.”
“That’s…” Rachel deliberated the correct adjective to describe Quinn’s unfortunate situation.
“It sucks,” Quinn said finishing what would have been a more insightful sentence.
Rachel took another sip of her green tea, contemplating her next question. She opened her mouth hesitantly, but no words ended up escaping, her next question on the tip of her tongue.
“Rachel, you can ask me anything. The least I owe you is the truth. You know more about me than my own parents just from this conversation alone.”
The brunette nodded and decided to go for it. What was the worst that could happen?
“How did you and Sam happen? Your marriage, I mean,” she asked shyly, her eyes looking anywhere but Quinn’s.
“Ah,” Quinn sighed as she took a drink of tea, “I was wondering when you were going to ask about him. Well, we met, as you know in high school, and dated for a while. He was sweet to me, held my hand, did all of the things boyfriends do I guess. Then you and Finn broke up and Finn decided to I don’t know, to win me back? It was a stupid weird time and to be honest I never wanted to be with Finn. Sam and I split, Finn and I got together and I hated every minute of it.”
“Why?”
Quinn sighed.
“Because I saw how much it hurt you to see Finn with me,” she said softly.
“Oh,” was all the brunette could say.
“Anyway, Sam and I eventually got back together. We went to college together, and then came back here where my father had a job at the bank ready for Sam. We got married four weeks after we returned home and now I guess I’m here with you.”
Rachel’s jaw was opening and closing.
“Can I be frank?”
Quinn was puzzled but nodded.
“That doesn’t seem that romantic.”
The blonde laughed an empty laugh.
“You’re right, it wasn’t.”
Rachel’s head cocked to the side.
“How did he propose?”
“He didn’t,” Quinn said as she twirled her spoon around her mug.
Now Rachel’s jaw hit the floor.
“What?” she exclaimed.
“He went out to dinner with my father and the next day I was told I was marrying Sam.”
Rachel was speechless. This sounded like some clichéd version of the Princess Diaries. Her father forced her to marry Sam? She couldn’t imagine being forced to do anything. It wasn’t in her nature to do something she didn’t like. In high school, she always imagined Quinn’s life to be perfect. Perfect grades, perfect boyfriend, perfect family, perfect everything. She was the most beautiful and popular girl in school. Rachel remembered admiring her hourglass figure, curly blonde pony tail, and long beautiful eyelashes. Quinn Fabray, in her mind, was perfect. Of course, she had an inkling that her family wasn’t perfect when her parents kicked her out but other than that, Quinn had never let on that she was miserable. Now Rachel truly saw what Quinn had to go through was worse than a slushy facial, worse than being ridiculed at school. Rachel was lucky enough to have two parents that loved her no matter what she did. Sure she got bullied at school but she came home to a family that made her feel loved every minute of every day. Quinn went home to a father who abused her and a mother who stood by and let it happen. Rachel felt sick to her stomach, imagining a nine year old girl getting belted by her father. She was physically ill. Something, a combination of anger and horror, was building up inside of her.
“What?” Quinn asked softly.
Rachel shook her head, not wanting to spoil the evening. Quinn was with Sam. Suddenly, she felt a pang of jealousy. Quinn was with Sam.
“You deserve so much more, Quinn,” she said in a hushed whisper.
Quinn was taken aback, overwhelmed by the pain in the brunette’s voice. It seemed like Rachel really believed that she deserved more. Unable to speak, the blonde grasped the girl’s hand and squeezed it as a thank you. Rachel understood and nodded, gazing into Quinn’s mysterious hazel eyes, remembering how she always wanted to fix the sad young blonde girl in the window from her childhood. The bell ringing from the door broke the trance and Rachel pulled her hand out of Quinn’s as the waiter approached the table. The blonde immediately missed the warmth.
“Are you two all finished?” the waiter asked.
The two nodded and the man grabbed their cups. After leaving the money and a generous tip, the two decided to go home. Quinn held the door open for Rachel, and the pair walked out into the cold. It was still snowing, large fluffs of soft ice swirling around them. In the corner of her eye, Quinn saw the brunette shiver. Without thinking, Quinn linked her arm with Rachel’s instantly feeling a rush of heat. Rachel smiled softly as they continued to walk in silence. It was a comfortable stillness, a sort of tranquility neither girl had felt before.
They arrived at Rachel’s tiny car and Quinn, as always, opened the door for the tiny brunette. Rachel blushed, hoping it was hidden by the darkness; it wasn’t, but Quinn didn’t say anything. She started the car, put on her iPod, and pulled out of the parking lot. With the heat on full blast, Quinn began to feel sleepy, not realizing how tired she actually was. Rachel smiled at the tired blonde and changed the song to her favorite winter song.
I was following the pack
All swallowed in their coats
With scarves of red tied 'round their throats
To keep their little heads
From fallin' in the snow
And I turned 'round and there you go
And, Michael, you would fall
And turn the white snow red as strawberries
In the summertime...
She heard Quinn sigh.
“God, I love this song,” she said quietly as she gazed out the window, her breath leaving white circles on the glass.
“I wouldn’t have guessed that you listen to this kind of stuff,” the blonde remarked as Rachel stopped at a stop sign.
Rachel laughed softly.
“Well, there is a lot more to me than show tunes,” she said lightly, not meaning any insult.
“I know, Rachel,” Quinn whispered, turning now to face the brunette.
For a brief moment, Rachel took her eyes off of the road and gazed at Quinn. She saw the honesty in her eyes.
“Rachel, I’m so happy we did this. There is so much I want to learn about you. I want to…make up for lost time, I guess.”
Rachel nodded and smiled.
“Me too, Quinn.”
Her smile was mirrored and they proceeded to Quinn’s home. The window wipers hypnotized the tired blonde and before she knew it the car came to a halt and Rachel was looking at her.
“Quinn?”
Quinn blinked out of her daze.
“Sorry. Oh, we’re here,” she said sadly, not really wanting to leave Rachel’s company.
She looked at the clock. It was much later than she thought it was. Had they really spent three hours together? It had felt like five minutes.
Sam is going to be pissed.
“I guess I should…” she began, obviously dreading going inside of the house.
“Wait!” Rachel said loudly, “I’ll walk you to the door.”
Quinn smiled.
“Okay.”
They exited the car and met each other at the beginning of the pathway. Sam was probably watching.
Screw it.
Quinn took Rachel’s hand and slowly walked towards the front door. The porch light shined brightly, illuminating the brunette’s tanned skin and her bright brown eyes.
God, she is so beautiful.
Suddenly, her eyes landed on a pair of soft, plump lips. Subconsciously she wet her own lips, never wanting to kiss someone so much in her life.
Wait, what? No, this is wrong, this is so so wrong.
Why was she feeling like this? She shouldn’t, right? Her father would murder her, Sam would be heart broken. Was this worth it? Rachel’s breath blew over her, the scent of green tea overwhelming her senses. It was all too much. It was all too fast. She closed her eyes, trying to get a hold of herself, and a familiar soft hand brush over her cheek. Her heart stopped, and she opened her eyes, meeting the gaze of the beautiful brunette. Their lips were so close, on the verge of touching. Quinn’s mind was screaming no, but her heart was winning. She felt her heart begin to race faster and faster as the distance between them begin to close.
Quinn’s hand moved to Rachel’s hips, and pulled her nearer into her body. All she wanted in this moment was to be as close to Rachel as possible. Just as their lips were about to touch, Quinn heard the doorknob turn. Her body froze, her eyes suddenly filled with panic. Rachel knew instantly what was wrong so she merely pulled the blonde as close as she possibly could into her body and whispered three words into her ear.
“You deserve more.”
Quinn felt her throat close, the tears threatening to fall. She nodded and squeezed the girl in her arms, never wanting to let go. Then, the door opened, and Rachel flew out of her arms.
“Sam!” Rachel said loudly, trying to control herself.
“Rachel,” he said suspiciously, “Quinn. How was coffee? Must have been good I mean you drank it for three hours.”
“It was lovely. Thank you, Rachel. I had a great time,” she said sincerely.
Rachel smiled.
“As did I,” she said softly before turning to leave.
“Sam, can you give me one second with Rachel…alone?”
The boy in his robe rolled his eyes but consented. Quinn walked back to Rachel and hugged her once more.
“I really did have a lovely time, Rachel. Thank you for everything.”
Rachel nodded pulled out of the hug, brushing a strand of hair out of Quinn’s face.
“You are beautiful, Quinn Fabray,” she said quietly before turning to leave.
Quinn grabbed her hand, stopping her motion, and squeezed it once more before turning to leave. Rachel smiled and turned back to her car. The blonde stood still in the cold, watching the girl drive away into the night, snow falling heavier and heavier on her. After the car was out of sight, she turned back to her house. A feeling of dread overwhelmed her but she took a deep breath and walked towards the home, back to her husband.
Right, I have a husband.