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“I lied.”
Quinn hadn’t even seen Berry approach, too busy dealing with the onslaught of horror that is losing her popularity. You’d think she’d get used to it, that the idea would sink in and her stress would return to baseline, or whatever counts for baseline as a pregnant sixteen year old. But it hasn’t. The terror is non-stop. Getting fat, losing admirers... she’s one pair of glasses away from being Lucy again. Frankly, she’d rather be blind.
She wipes away the tears -god, she cries so easily these days- and steels her voice into Classic Fabray. “I’m not a priest and this is not a confessional.”
“And I’m Jewish.”
Quinn wants to snap out I can tell, I can see your nose, but she’s not sure if that’s racist. Besides, Puck doesn’t have a weird nose.
“Never mind. Telling you was stupid anyway. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
Rachel turns to leave and Quinn darts forward before her brain tells her body to. That’s okay though. She’s a cheerleader, she has trust in her body’s reflexes. In this case, whatever it is that Rachel feels so much guilt over that she’s confiding in her enemy, Quinn wants to hear. With any luck she’ll be able to use it to drive a wedge between Rachel and Finn. If she loses everything else in the next six months, she is not losing Finn.
“Wait. I’m sorry,” Quinn tries, just enough sweetness for Rachel to drop her guard. “What is it?”
“I didn’t give those underwear to Jacob just for Finn.”
Paydirt in one sentence. Quinn can’t remember the last time her life was this easy. “Do you have a crush? Because with you both being Jewish...”
Rachel shakes her head violently, grimacing at the very idea. “Gross. No. No, definitely not. I wanted to spare you. I like you. God only knows why. It must be some twisted Stockholm thing. But lets face it, it wasn’t too long ago that Finn was a jock bully and I’ve never felt burdened on that account.”
“So you’re a lesbian?” First San and Britt, now Rachel. Pretty soon their grade is going to turn into a sorority porno. And if Quinn’s maybe seen one or five, well, her browser history is clear and no one can prove anything.
“Bisexuality exists, Quinn,” Rachel replies primly.
“Well call the UCLA.” Quinn rolls her eyes. It might exist in New York, or Chicago, or Miami. In Lima you’re either Noah Puckerman or Kurt Hummel.
“Actually it’s the ACLU. UCLA’s a college, nothing to do with social justice. So anyway, that’s it. Torment me with it how you will, but that’s the truth.” Rachel crosses her arms low on her stomach. She’s braced, probably experience telling her she’s about to get nailed with something disgusting.
“We share Finn.”
“What?”
And sometimes it’s Quinn’s mouth that works before her brain does. Unless that’s still a body thing, all lips and teeth and tongue. But again, her brain knows where her instincts were going with it. “We share him. Not backstabbing and sniping. All at once.”
“I don’t think I understand?”
Quinn shakes her head, loosely curled hair hitting her cheeks. Rachel’s annoying and self-absorbed, not stupid. “You understand it, you just think I’m messing with you.”
“Of course I think you’re messing with me. Things don’t just work like this!”
“Rachel, in your world people pine and they cry and they listen to over-dramatic Broadway music because nothing else expresses their piney mopey feelings well enough. In my world, things get done.”
“This isn’t something you can just say is happening! Just because you’re beautiful... You haven’t even asked everyone involved if they’re willing to try non-monogamy!”
“Trust me, Finn will like this idea. He’ll like it more than your innocent little mind can guess.” Finn might become downright useless at the sight, he’s already a quick draw. But if Rachel puts half the attention that she does to her own stardom into making others feel good, it’ll be more than enough.
“Aren’t you going to Catholic-ramble about premarital sex?”
“First rule of our...relationship or whatever. No religion talk.” It’s not like being pregnant turned her into a heathen atheist. If it had, she could have just murdered it and saved herself the trouble. Pregnancy’s only changed her body, and her careful balance at the top of the pyramid. “Second rule. Don’t say things that are stupid and obvious. I’m pregnant Rachel, ship premarital sex is clearly floating on the far seas.”
“Oh.” There’s a look on Rachel’s face that says she’s currently imagining everyone on that ship sunbathing nude. Good. It’ll make everything easier. With the universe of crap that’s raining down on her lately, Quinn deserves a little easy.
“We need to find Finn.” Quinn grabs Rachel by the slim flash of wrist showing from under her cardigan -and seriously, brown with kittens over her white performance shirt and black high waisted skirt? If Berry’s going to be her girlfriend she better stop looking like an idiot child- and hauls her out of the classroom.
“You’re taking this pretty far for a cruel prank,” Rachel comments, put together again.
“Because it’s not, Rachel. It’s-” Quinn cuts off as she spots Finn at the end of the hallway. No sense in explaining this twice, and there’s no way Finn’s going to just intuitively get it.
“Hi Finn,” Rachel murmurs.
“Hi Rachel. Hi Quinn. Are you two holding hands?”
Well, not quite, but she could be. Quinn takes the question as a suggestion and links fingers.
“Um. So you totally are holding hands. Is that a girl thing, like peeing together?”
Finn Hudson is cute when he’s confused, and that only makes it easier to kiss him on the lips, then kiss Rachel. Sure enough, there’s the wide eyes and the semi barely showing beneath loose jeans. Quinn’s not sure how many people are watching, how many just saw that, but it doesn’t really matter. She can’t say she doesn’t care, she’ll never be the kind of person that doesn’t care. But given her limited options, this is the best. This way cements Finn as hers, and gives her a bonus possession on top.
“No, it’s not a girl thing. Tomorrow between classes I’m going to hold your hand, and I’m going to hold Rachel’s hand.”
“Uh. But. Huh?”
“And when Rachel inevitably gets a slushy thrown at her, I’m going to lick the grape ice off her breasts,” Quinn tacks on. Oh man, she hopes it is grape. It might be a placebo effect, but it feels like she’s already getting cravings. Her current one is everything and anything grape.
Finn very visibly reaches out and pinches his own arm. He seems startles a second later when he doesn’t wake up.
“Lesbians aren’t Cheerios. Not unless they make it really obvious they like guys too, and just slut around everywhere. I’m not a slut. But I’m also not a Cheerio anymore, thanks to that rat Jacob crumbling after three seconds of an interrogation.”
“Ugh! He’s such a mouthbreather!” Rachel interrupts.
“Shouldn’t that be ‘I told you so’?” After all, as much as Quinn hates to admit it, Rachel was right about Coach not being on anyone’s side but her own.
“Well, I did. But it shouldn’t have happened like that.”
“The point is, I can look at this positively. I have a few more options now. So I took one.”
“But I thought you said I could cheat with anyone except Rachel. Uh, not that I would.”
“Like I said, more options.” Not just for sex, although the way Santana and Brittany and the senior Cheerios Megan and Zinnia go at it, it’s pretty clear she’s been sacrificing good sex for being Captain. This gives Quinn more options once her parents kick her out. Gays love babies. Mr and Mr Berry will probably totally let her stay. They might even help her find someone to give it to who isn’t creepy Mrs Schuester. Mr Schue deserves a baby, but she really doesn’t. She’d probably be a terrible mom.
“This is amazing,” Finn whispers. Quinn wonders if he thinks they can’t hear him. She’d be more direct about it, except that Rachel seems to agree. If she’s no longer going to be the majority vote, she’ll have to be a little more careful in what she comments on.
“Who has a place we can go to?”
“It’s the middle of the day.”
“My mom’s a stay at home mom, so it has to be one of yours.” There’s no telling how drunk she’ll be at this hour. Or maybe she’ll still be sober enough to be snoopy. Quinn would much rather be kicked out over the pregnancy than the threesome.
Finn shakes his head. “No, I meant like shouldn’t we go back to class and stuff? You both get really good grades.”
Rachel flashes a proud grin. It’s all Quinn can to do not roll her eyes. “I have pregnancy hormones. You don’t know how that feels. So it’s go to pre-calc or have sex with me while I really want to. Pick one.”
“Rachel has a queen bed,” Finn blurts.
“My dads aren’t home,” Rachel adds just as quickly.
Good. At least her new ...whatever have their priorities straight. Girlfriend and boyfriend? The terms work individually, but it’s sort of a mouthful of a syllables to say all at once. She’ll have to think of a better term. Or maybe she’ll just say you and point, and the person in question will feel the sweet bruises Quinn’s left on their throat throbbing and know to come.