Chapter Text
Quinn’s sure it’s not the first time she held hands, but it’s the first time she remembers consciously disliking it. She knows she used to hold hands with her friends as a kid until that was deemed unacceptable, and she liked it then, but the first time she holds hands with a boy is in the ninth grade and she definitely doesn’t like it. Finn’s hands are huge, long fingers, large palms that just don’t fit against hers comfortably. Her fingers feel squeezed between his, and his arms are far longer than hers, creating an awkward tension she didn’t enjoy. She avoids holding his hand if she can, only taking it to create an image in the hallways. Quinn wanted to be head cheerleader by sophomore year, and the only way she could do it was to perfect an image. She had to be the perfect girl, one who was dating someone who was destined to lead the football team, one who had all the power and prestige. It was her dream, so she put the effort in, she pretended to like Finn. It was all part of the narrative she was building, it was all part of who she wanted to be.
Friday night Finn wanted to take her out, and who was Quinn to say no? She couldn’t reject her boyfriend, not in the hallway in front of all these people, not with Brittany and Santana at her side. Maybe she’d rather not spend her evening at Breadstix eating a subpar meal and listening to Finn talk about how the Browns were doing that season, but she didn’t have a choice, so when Friday rolls around, she meets Finn at the restaurant.
They sit across from each other in a booth in the back, and Quinn’s glad they’re not visible to the rest of the restaurant. She wouldn’t be surprised if the other cheerios came to spy on her. It wouldn’t be out of character, especially for Santana. Finn’s smiling down at her, talking away about football or video games, she hadn’t been listening, lost in her thoughts, just smiling and nodding. It was a technique she’d seen from her mom tons of times before, you had to make a man feel like he was being heard, even if you didn’t want to listen. That was the way to a happy relationship, or so she thought.
She doesn’t even think about resting her hand on the table, but she regrets it as soon as she does. Finn entangles their hands, a goofy grin on his face as he winks at her. Quinn forces a smile back, but she’s not smiling on the inside. All she can feel is gross sweat against her hand, like he was clammy and nervous. It makes Quinn’s stomach turn in a way that was not at all positive, but she doesn’t let go. She thinks maybe she’ll grow to like holding hands with him, if she just keeps doing it. That makes sense, maybe she’ll at least become indifferent.
The rest of the date goes similarly to the beginning. Quinn doesn’t say much, she just listens to Finn. Carole picks them up, and while they sit in the backseat Finn grabs her hand again. She resists the urge to let go as always, her eyes falling to their hands. It doesn’t even look right. Her own hand looks foreign to her. She wonders why the hell she’s so opposed to holding hands with her boyfriend . Girls were supposed to like this kind of thing, weren’t they? Was Quinn really that different? She really hoped not.
Quinn prays every night that she’s not.
///
Quinn dates Sam in junior year, and she actually really likes him, at least as a person. He’s kind, funny, handsome, and a bit nerdy, which Quinn will never admit, but she actually really likes that. She doesn’t have to pretend to not like Star Wars or literature and he thinks it’s cute that she does. By all means, he should be her perfect boyfriend.
And yet, holding his hand didn’t feel right.
It was better than Finn’s, his hand was smaller, and he generally wasn’t as sweaty, but it still felt strange . It certainly didn’t feel romantic. Quinn just couldn’t generate any romantic connection to Sam, and she dreads to know why that was. She really didn’t like to think about it. In fact she avoids it at any cost.
She ignores it. She pretends that holding hands with Sam feels right, pretends that it doesn’t feel like she’s back in kindergarten, holding hands because it was simply a silly thing to do. Quinn just cannot face the music, not when the consequences could be so dire.
She goes on dates with Sam, she loves them, but she doesn’t love him. Not like that. She slots their hands together this time, and fakes a smile again. Sam seems all too happy. She hates leading him on like this, but she needs to, for her own peace of mind.
///
Quinn cheats on Sam, dates Finn again, for some god unknown reason. He thinks first love never fades, but the truth for her is there was no first love at all. She hasn’t had hers yet, she doesn’t know if she ever will at this point. Junior year ends, Finn kisses Rachel, and it all feels awful.
Senior year goes similarly, but it’s then Quinn begins to make sense of herself. Santana is outed, and if Quinn’s being more than a little honest, the thought of her friend being gay gets the gears in her head going. She’s more than afraid at first, but it all makes sense . She was gay. That’s why it couldn’t work with Sam or Finn. That’s why she spent more than a little time thinking about Rachel. She was repressed for too long. It takes her a lot of time to accept herself. It takes realization that she’s never going to change, it takes realization that maybe, she wouldn’t want to.
She doesn’t act on it in high school, Lima was far too small, far too country, but she gets to Yale (the gay ivy, god) and it doesn’t take her long to branch out.
She meets Amelia in a freshmen literature course, they fight over whether or not T.S. Eliot’s The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufock is a hodgepodge of nothingness. Quinn likes her passion. She likes the way Amelia can recite Dickinson and quote lines from Larkin’s An Arundel Tomb. It makes her heart feel kind of funny, to be able to talk about her passions like this, to talk about the classics like it was a casual deal.
They’re arguing over the merit of The Scarlet Letter walking home from their second date, when Amelia takes her hand. Quinn is surprised by how easily she lets her, given the fact that every other time she’s held hands, she hated it. She pauses her rant to stare down at their joined hands, look in awe. She doesn’t hate it, she really doesn’t, and it’s greatly surprising. Amelia’s hands are soft, warm and smaller than either Sam or Finn’s have been, and it feels like this was what she was missing. Women’s hands. She didn’t need any further confirmation, but she did feel it in that moment, she was definitely gay. “Uh, but the story is important,” Quinn tries to continue, completely losing her train of thoughts.
Amelia laughs and changes the subject to Langston Hughes, who Quinn is eager to talk about, as soon as she regains her bearings. The whole time though, she can’t help but smile. She was holding someone’s hand, and she doesn’t hate it.
It doesn’t last long though.
Her and Amelia’s fights don’t just limit themselves to healthy debates on literature, no, as soon as they get serious they argue about everything, and Quinn can’t stand to be in a relationship like that, not when she remembers what her parents were like. She breaks up with Amelia, and while it hurts, while it feels like she might be giving up her only chance for love, she knows it’s the right thing to do.
A week later, she gets another email from Rachel, and something in her urges her to respond.
///
Three years later, she never thought one email would be so important, but as she rides the train to New York City, she can’t help but think it was the most important one she’ll ever send.
Her and Rachel had been dating for two years now, after they had started talking again via that email. Quinn’s never been happier. She doesn’t think she could be happier. Rachel is wonderful, she’s beautiful and so kind, funny in the silliest way. Quinn had said she liked passion, Rachel had it in spades. She didn’t always know about literature, but she let Quinn talk, read poems and cried tears of joy when Quinn wrote them for her. Quinn loves her. She thinks she might just for the rest of her life.
Her train lurches to a stop at Grand Central, and she hops out of her seat quickly, barely checking to make sure she has all her things. She’s too excited to see Rachel, it’d been far too long, two and a half weeks. But now, she was in New York, and she and Rachel were going to be looking for a place for them to move into when Quinn graduates. It makes butterflies swarm in her stomach, thinking of getting to wake up to Rachel everyday. She thinks it’ll just make things even more perfect, considering how hard long distance has been.
As soon as she’s on the platform, her eyes dart around looking for her girlfriend, but she was tiny in a crowd of tall milling New Yorkers, and Rachel sees Quinn before Quinn sees her. A warm hand slips into hers and Quinn’s smile instantly widens.
She turns, and sure enough, Rachel Berry is standing before her, a wicked grin on her face. “Hi baby,” she says to Quinn, squeezing her hand.
“Hi,” she whispers back, and before she knows it Rachel’s whisking her off the platform, dragging her away from the busyness.
Their hands stay attached, and Quinn can’t help but think how easy it is to hold Rachel’s hand. It feels perfect in hers, soft, warm, small, never sweaty. Her fingers fit neatly between Quinn’s like they were meant to be intertwined. It makes Quinn’s heart flip in her chest.
As soon as they’re off the platform Quinn raises their joint hands to her lips, pressing a soft kiss to the hand she feels like hers were meant to hold. “I missed you,” she says, “I love you.”
Rachel looks at her, a pensive smile on her face. “I missed you too,” she agrees, “and I love you too. Is there a reason why you’re being so sappy?”
Quinn shakes her head. “Just lucky to have you,” she says, swinging their hands between them.
“Well at the risk of sounding like I’m copying,” Rachel says, her grin wide once again, “I’m lucky to have you too, and I am very excited about the fact you’re moving to be with me.”
Quinn couldn’t agree more. She was so excited to live with the woman she thinks she might love forever all the time. It really blew her mind, it was something she’d never thought she’d have when she was holding Finn Hudson’s hand. That sentiment almost makes her laugh, both her and Rachel had once held Finn’s hand, and now, more than ever, she felt incredibly happy that Rachel was holding hers, and that she was holding Rachel’s. Hand holding felt so right when it was Rachel’s hand in hers.
The rest of the weekend is spent searching for their apartment, and their hands barely part. Quinn had never known she’d feel so in love with just the feeling of a hand in hers.