Words 7
"Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one."
- Albert Einstein
At times, Rachel felt as though her life was a dream and, lately, it seemed to occur more and more often. When she spoke, it seemed rehearsed. Words she employed seemed to be the ones of a stranger. Sometimes, she wondered if she even existed or if she only was a body, a charnel envelop, a ghostly figure walking through the hallways of her life wishing desperately to be able to live again.
Her life seemed to be nourished by her new obsession. It wasn't the same as living again, but it gave her a reason to wake up in the morning and dress in her ridiculous cheerleading outfit. It gave a meaning to whom she had become and to the way she acted. Her obsession and her persona had merged into this character that people, with the exception of Glee club, seemed to like better than her former self. It amused her in a dark kind of way.
It was her obsession that had led her to hide behind the gymnasium's door after cheerleading practice. Quinn had asked Santana to stay. She had said that she wanted to talk to her and Rachel had been curious to know why.
"I'm so tired of you contradicting every single decision I make." Quinn's voice reverberated loudly on the walls.
Rachel could see the head cheerleader from where she stood. Hands on her hips, her whole demeanour or seemed the one of someone highly frustrated. Across from her was Santana staring sternly at the floor with her arms crossed over her chest and her jaw tightly clenched. Her lips were pressed into a thin line and she was wearing her usual scowling mask. It was obvious by her facial expression that Quinn's words were flying right above her head.
It was true, Rachel had noticed, that the Latina would often criticize Quinn's choices. It seemed that months after the incident, the dark haired beauty had not yet forgotten the vicious plan that had been orchestrated by her substitute in order to take her place. How infuriating this situation had to be? She had to work under the command of someone who had pushed her down to get where she was. How many times Rachel had seen the fierce Latina bite down on her tongue, to bite down her own bitterness, to stop many snarky comments from slapping the one who had ripped her title out of her hands?
Irritated by the other girl's silence Quinn clenched her teeth and hissed.
"You've been losing it lately and coach is thinking of kicking you off the team. If I were you, I'd lay low."
Santana opened her mouth and squinted. Instead of speaking, she sighed and sat down. Stretching her limbs lazily, she stared at the other girl for a minute or two.
"Do you remember when we used to be friends?" She said in a strangely nostalgic whisper, her eyes peering into the head cheerleader's ones. "We used to go to your house after cheer Brittany, you, and me. We'd just hang out and we were like: "we're going to be best friends forever". We'd just talk about boys, watch movies, eat popcorn...and you were all:"We shouldn't!" Then, I'd be:"Oh come on! It won't kill you." In the end you would always say yes. I really did consider you as a friend. It's crazy, now, we hate each other. Who would have thought?"
Rachel shook her head sceptically from her hidden spot. Surely, Quinn wasn't going to fall for this obvious trap. None of the emotions Santana expressed were real. She was cold and manipulative. Nothing she said could be trusted
"It seems so far away." Quinn smiled a little bit. She chuckled. "Remember that time when we were little. You wanted a cat so badly, but your parents wouldn't let you. And this one day, we were at the park and you found this hideous lost kitty under a bench. You decided it had to be yours. We ran all around the playground to capture it and, then, trapped it in a box. You told me we would keep it forever, but our parents found out the following week and sent it away. What was its name again?"
Santana laughed out loud and, for a second, her hand reached for Quinn's in an affectionate manner, but then she seemed to remember that they weren't friends anymore and it dropped loudly unto her lap. She bit her lip and her fingers played dreamily with the fabric of her red Cheerio skirt.
"We called it Andy." She murmured, more to herself than to Quinn. "After we found out it was a female, but by then it was too late. We were so used to its name that we never changed it."
Silence fell upon them. It seemed rid of all tension. It was easy to see that they were both elsewhere, in the past to be more exact. They were in a world of childhood memories where hypocrisy and ferocious competition did not exist, a world where ambitious girls like Quinn and Santana could be friends without fearing one another, a world where everything was so much simpler, so much easier, a world that no longer existed.
Rachel held her breath as the strange shift of atmosphere seemed to travel its way into her heart, making it beat strongly inside her chest. She felt compelled by this moment they were sharing because she knew so well how they must have felt. Hadn't she moulded herself into a shape that wasn't hers to please others? Wasn't she trapped, like them, in a role that was far from her true nature? The world made no sense if people had to destroy precious friendships in order to fit in. It hurt Rachel, she didn't know why, but it hurt to see the distance between them.
She shook her head and tried to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of melancholy that was settling into her heart. She took a few steps backwards and ran towards the locker-room, trying to erase the sudden fear that had been awakened in her. When she got there, she gathered her clothes as fast as she could. Within minutes, she was fully dressed and ready to go. After one last glance at the mirror, which revealed her that her cheeks were flushed with shame and her hair was sweaty and messy from cheerleading practice, she walked towards the door. She was reaching for the handle, when someone opened it from the exterior.
"Leaving so soon?" Santana asked her in a neutral tone of voice.
Rachel fidgeted anxiously. She couldn't tell what the other brunette was thinking because her visage was expressionless.
"Well, I do not think that "soon" would be the appropriate word under the circumstances." She replied matter-of-factly. "All the others already left."
"Except Quinn, you, and I. What a strange coincidence." Santana said sounding suspicious. "What were you doing?" She sighed. "Spying on us? You should stop that. It's getting really disturbing."
"I just-"
Santana interrupted the smaller girl by waving her hands impatiently in front of her.
"Save it. I don't care."She rolled her eyes and sighed. The brief breach through into her armour had closed again.
Since she expected the conversation to be over, Rachel tried to leave the room, but Santana extended her arm forward, her hand hitting the doorframe with a loud thump. The small singer blinked a few times, apprehending what horrible idea could be dancing into the Latina's mind. With her eyes opened wide she stared at the flesh barrier stopping her from running away from her captor.
"Quinn asked me to put away the equipment we used." Santana tilted her head and snorted. "You're going to help me Berry."
"That sounds more like an order than a demand." Rachel answered sarcastically.
"For someone who's just been caught in a compromising situation, your tongue is pretty sharp." Santana mocked her before adding a little bit more nicely. "I don't want to do it alone. If we do it together it'll go much faster. It's already late and I've got a chemistry exam tomorrow."
"I didn't know you were one to study." The small brunette replied half-contemptuously, half surprised.
Santana shrugged her shoulders.
"Well," she squinted and started walking back towards the gymnasium," there are a lot of things you don't know about me." She gave a quick glance over her shoulder and smirked. "Coming?"
Rachel blushed and ran the distance between them. Somehow, she had the feeling that her plan of revenge would make he follow paths she would never even have dared to expect to come across.
part8