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“Where’s Quinn?”
Rachel’s first thought is to ask Finn where she is which, really, should have been her first clue. It isn’t to ask him if he’s okay, how he’s feeling. He has just woken up, and the first thought on Rachel’s mind is Quinn.
If she’s being honest, Quinn has been the first thought on her mind since… well, she’s usually thinking about her in one way or another. Truth be told, she knew more about Quinn than she knew about Finn for her first year of high school (and then some). Now, Rachel likes to think she knows them fairly equally, if not Finn moreso, but the fact that Quinn is on her mind more often than Finn these days is quite alarming.
“Uh,” Finn mumbles dazedly, “Her mom picked her up a few hours ago.”
Relief floods her body with the knowledge that Quinn is okay. Rachel remembers seeing her earlier that day, her face a different color than its usual pale tone, her voice hoarse and scratchy rather than her smooth alto. She was worried about her, but she didn’t say anything about it. She never knows where she stands with Quinn, and one wrong move could have her at the end of a vicious spew of insults. She’s learned it’s usually better not to impose on the girl.
Quinn, despite her obvious discomfort, trudged on through the day until Glee when Finn mentioned not feeling well. Even in her misery, Rachel remembers wondering how Quinn still managed to look so perfect.
“Quinn really is very pretty,” The words slip out before Rachel realizes what she’s saying. She looks to Finn nervously, but he seems to disregard her comment as he points to the washcloth that Rachel placed over his forehead.
“You don’t have to do that, you know,” He says softly.
“No,” Rachel refutes, “I would do it for anyone.”
It’s mostly true. While she does care deeply about all of her fellow Glee members, Rachel knows there are some limits. Santana, for one, would sooner drive herself off a cliff than let Rachel get this close to her. Quinn, too, probably wouldn’t let Rachel do this for her.
Quinn would probably scoff, roll her eyes, and tell her to leave. Rachel can almost picture it if she tries hard enough: her hazel eyes, the sound of her voice, soft yet intimidating, her long blonde hair, messily sprawled across the pillow.
Rachel dwells on the mental image she’s conjured up for a moment. “She’s prettier than me,” She says, a hint of insecurity in her voice.
“Would you stop? You’re beautiful,” Finn counters.
“I know she is,” Rachel continues. She knows she’s not unattractive, per se, but she’s not beautiful in the way that Quinn is. People don’t stop in the halls to admire her beauty, something that Rachel isn’t ashamed to admit she has done with Quinn. “It meant so much to me that you chose me over her. Girls like me don’t get chosen over girls like her very much.” Then, a thought occurs to her. “Did you kiss her, like Santana said?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Finn sighs, “But I just needed to get it out of my system.”
Here, Rachel’s curiosity piques. She can’t deny her interest in Quinn, and it seems that she has the same lure on everyone else that she has on Rachel.
“So what did it feel like?” She suddenly finds herself asking, “When you kissed her?”
A wave of embarrassment crashes over her, but she is too invested in the answer for her to take it back. She would be lying if she said she’s never thought about it before. Quinn Fabray, among other things, is an enigma, one that Rachel is fascinated by. Lucky for her, Finn doesn’t seem particularly fazed by the question, rather taking time to ponder the answer.
She feels childish, like a kid asking their older sibling what kissing feels like. Rachel has kissed a few boys, one of which is sitting in front of her right now, but she imagines that kissing a girl is different, especially when that girl is Quinn Fabray. She imagines it’s softer, smoother. Not better or worse, just different.
Rachel would find out the answer herself if she wasn’t so sure that any outcome would be in no way favorable to her. At best, Quinn might push her away and call her a freak. At worst, well, Rachel doesn’t like to think about that. But she is past the point of denying her curiosity.
“Fireworks,” Finn finally responds.
“Did you see fireworks when you kissed me?” Rachel asks, and the silence that follows is enough of an answer for her. Nodding to herself, she stands up and starts to leave the room before the tears in her eyes can fall.
“Rachel, wait.”
“No, it’s good. Thank you,” She says honestly, looking at Finn as she admits, “Look, you’ve given me the strength to move on. I know now that there’s nothing here for me anymore.”
“That’s not the truth. I still…” Finn trails off, “I’m just, I’m so confused in my head right now—”
“No, it’s okay,” Rachel interrupts, “Look, I understand. Now I’m free to pursue my dreams without anything holding me back. And… you’ve actually inspired my song selection for this week’s love song assignment. Feel better, Finn.”
As she walks out of the room, Rachel feels an invisible weight being lifted from her shoulders. She hadn’t realized just how heavy her breakup with Finn had been weighing on her, but this conversation has proven to be the sense of closure that she was missing. It has been insightful, in more ways than one, and Rachel smiles at the thought. She doesn’t want to be with someone that wants to be with someone else, and she doesn’t want that for Finn either.
Ironically enough, their someone else is the same girl.
As the final notes of Firework echo in the room, Rachel can’t resist the smile that lights up her face. Perhaps her choice of song was a bit tongue-in-cheek, but she doesn’t care. Her classmates applaud for her, but Rachel doesn’t find herself basking in the attention as she usually does. This performance was for her and her alone.
“Alright, I think that wraps it up for today. Great job, everyone!” Mr. Schue says, heading to his office.
Rachel walks to her seat to grab her belongings. She is in somewhat of a hurry, hoping to get home in time to get some homework done before she goes to Breadstix to see Kurt and the Warblers. As she’s packing up, she hears someone say her name, and Rachel turns around to see Sam standing next to her.
“Sam?” She asks, “What can I do for you?”
“Uh, I—” He stops, narrowing his eyes, “How do you know I want you to do something for me?”
“Sam, what are you…” Rachel shakes her head to herself in amusement, “Never mind. What’s… up?” She finishes, cringing at her use of the phrase.
Sam clears his throat and says, “I was hoping you could possibly bring some homework to Quinn’s house? It’s the stuff she missed from the rest of her classes today and stuff for the rest of the week, just in case.”
Rachel’s eyebrows raise with surprise. “Me? Why—why me?”
“Well, I don’t… really want to see her right now,” Sam explains, and Rachel nods understandingly, “And I just kinda figured you would be the most willing. Helping out someone on the team, right?”
Rachel sees the hopeful look on his face and knows she’s not going to be saying no. After all, it would be detrimental to their progress towards Regionals if Quinn were to fall behind on her schoolwork and have less time to rehearse with the club.
(The thought occurs to her that someone should probably take the same consideration for Finn, but Rachel chooses to ignore it for now.)
“Of course I can do that, Sam,” Rachel says, watching as he grins and swings his backpack around to grab the work. He pulls a red folder out, jam-packed with what she assumes are notes and assignments, and hands it to her.
“Thanks, Rachel,” He smiles, “See you tomorrow.”
She watches Sam turn around and leave the choir room, letting out a heavy sigh once she is alone. So much for getting her homework done.
Rachel doesn’t remember when she learned Quinn’s address. She’s not even really sure how she knows it, considering the fact that she has never actually been to her house, but she has little trouble navigating her way there. It’s not like it’s hard, given the town they live in, but it goes to show just how much she really knows about this girl.
Folder in hand, Rachel walks to the front door and rings the doorbell carefully. She’s hoping Quinn’s mom will answer the door, thank her for the trip, and bid her farewell, but when the door swings open, it’s Quinn standing there, not Judy, and Rachel knows this will not be the quick exchange she was hoping for.
“Rachel?” Quinn asks, her voice raspy.
Rachel looks at her nervously. “Hi, Quinn,”
“What are you—” She pauses to clear her throat before continuing, “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, I brought the rest of your schoolwork from today,” Rachel explains, offering the folder to her, “A-And notes and assignments for the rest of the week. Sam… asked me to bring it to you.”
She figures it is better to be honest with her, and she’s proven right when she doesn’t see Quinn’s face instantly drop. Instead, Quinn just nods and takes the folder from her.
“Thanks,” She says quietly, and an uncomfortable silence elapses around them.
It’s then that Rachel really registers the fact of Quinn’s casual appearance before her: her hair thrown back in a loose ponytail, her red t-shirt and black sweatpants, her lack of makeup, and, the most surprising, a pair of black frames in front of her eyes.
“I didn’t know you wore glasses,” Rachel comments mindlessly.
Quinn cocks an eyebrow, a confused look on her face as she says, “How do you know that? I was just looking for them inside.”
Rachel stifles her laughter, not wanting to make fun of her. She knows her confusion is probably resulting from her not feeling well, but, “Quinn, they’re on your face.”
She watches as realization washes over her, and Quinn’s cheeks turn bright red as she lifts a hand up to adjust the glasses on her face. Rachel giggles this time, and Quinn playfully scowls at her in return.
“Is your mom not home?” Rachel asks. She’s not purposely trying to elongate the conversation, but this might be the least confrontational interaction she has ever had with Quinn, and she’s going to take advantage of it.
Quinn shakes her head. “No, she’s out with a few friends. Some kind of single’s night, I’m not really sure.”
“So you’re gonna be home alone tonight? On Valentine’s Day?”
“Way to rub it in, Berry,” Quinn mutters, and, for a moment, Rachel worries that she has upset her until she notices the grin on her face.
Oh, Rachel thinks, She’s teasing me.
“Hey, I’m gonna be alone, too,” Rachel retorts with a smile.
Quinn shakes her head in amusement. “Aren’t we the lucky ones. I did have plans with Sam, but, you know…”
Rachel nods in understanding. “Kissing someone else and then getting mono from them kinda puts a damper on that, huh?”
A laugh escapes from Quinn’s throat, and her eyes widen. “Someone’s bold outside of school hours.”
Once again, Rachel fears that she may have upset her, but Quinn isn’t frowning, just surprised, which emboldens Rachel to say, “That’s because I know there’s no reason for you to fire back. Because no one is watching.”
Quinn’s face hardens for a moment before she relaxes, shrugging easily. “Maybe so.”
It’s silent again, and Rachel knows she should be getting home, but she is enjoying talking to Quinn a little too much. Lucky for her, it seems that Quinn is on the same page when she says, “Would you want to come in for a bit? I could really use some company.”
Rachel is torn, and her lack of a response prompts Quinn to continue, “I promise I’m not contagious. You’ll be fine as long as we don’t share a drink, or, you know…”
The implication has Rachel blushing fiercely, and she says, “I’d love to come inside,” before she can let herself dwell any further on the possible endings to that sentence.
She follows Quinn inside, careful to keep her distance just in case. Quinn leads her into her living room, and Rachel sits down on the end of the couch opposite from her. She watches as Quinn tucks her feet under herself, enveloping herself in a pink blanket, and the reality of the situation suddenly hits her. She is here, in Quinn’s house, with Quinn, alone, and it is simultaneously thrilling and terrifying.
“Did Sam… say anything else when he asked you to come over?” Quinn asks softly.
Rachel shakes her head. “No, he just said that he didn’t want to see you right now.” She sees Quinn drop her head, which prompts her to say, “I talked to Finn.”
Quinn looks back up at her when she says, “Look, Rachel, what I did was a mistake. He’s yours if you want him.”
“I don’t,” Rachel insists, “Want him, that is.”
“You don’t?”
“No,” She repeats, explaining, “He said he felt fireworks when he kissed you. I asked him if he felt fireworks when he kissed me and… he didn’t say anything. I decided that I need to move on. Bring my focus back to myself. It’s really what’s best for me.”
“That’s… really admirable, actually,” Quinn admits. She takes a sip of water before she says, “Honestly, I should probably do the same.”
“What about Sam?” Rachel can’t help but ask.
Quinn just shrugs. “He’s a really sweet guy, but if I’m being honest, I don’t really like him like that. Plus, I already broke his heart, so I might as well go all the way, right?” She finishes with a grin, which gives Rachel permission to let go of the laughter that she was holding back.
“I suppose that’s one way of looking at it,” Rachel laughs. “How do you know?”
“Know what?” Quinn asks.
“That you don’t like him like that.”
“Oh,” Quinn says quietly, nervously almost. “I guess… there’s no spark. Fireworks, as Finn called it. I thought there might have been something there, but there isn’t. Same with Finn,” She laments, and Rachel sympathizes with her. “I really wanted that with Sam, but it just hasn’t happened. I haven’t really felt it with any of the guys I’ve dated. Maybe it’s just me, I don’t know.”
“I felt it with Finn. And Jesse, until, well, you know,” Rachel admits, seeing Quinn’s nod as permission to continue. “But Lima isn’t exactly bursting at the seams with acceptable suitors. There will be plenty of guys in your future that will fall at your feet for a chance to be with you, Quinn, I can promise you that.” Her words come out a bit more on the nose than she intended, but they weren’t a lie.
“Yeah... right,” Quinn mumbles dejectedly under her breath. “God, I’m so mad at Santana. I know that she’s pissed about Brittany and Artie, but she didn’t have to screw up my life because of her own shit.”
“Her and Brittany?” Rachel asks dumbfoundedly.
Quinn just laughs and rolls her eyes. “Don’t pretend like you didn’t already know about that.”
Rachel blushes. “Well, I don’t like to assume.”
“It’s pretty much an open secret for anyone who knows them,” Quinn explains, “Santana and I are a lot alike, and Brittany has always been a calming force between us, as well as Santana’s… whatever they called each other.”
“Do your and Santana’s similarities go beyond being cheerleaders and ruthless mean girls?” Rachel asks with a laugh.
“You can say bitches, you know,” Quinn teases before she says, “But, yes, actually. We’re both closed off and quick to judge. We shut down when people get close to us, sabotage other people’s lives when ours aren’t going so well. We’re bitchy to a fault, but emotional messes underneath. We both like g—” Here, Quinn cuts herself off as her face grows pale, and Rachel is about to say something when she continues, “Glee. We both secretly like Glee but pretend not to.”
Rachel chooses not to dwell on her sudden pause, instead saying, “I guess you two are pretty similar.”
“Yeah, in more ways than you realize,” Quinn mutters.
They continue to talk about Glee, about relationships, about life, and Rachel doesn’t even notice how much time has passed until she gets a text message from Kurt that reads, See you soon!, and she realizes she’s supposed to be at Breadstix in less than thirty minutes. Looking up, she sees Quinn’s eyes falling shut, and she knows it’s probably a good time to make her exit.
“I should get going,” She says, watching Quinn open her eyes. “I’m supposed to meet Mercedes, Tina, and Mike at Breadstix to see Kurt.”
“Oh, yeah, of course,” Quinn says, starting to stand up.
“No, you can stay here, it’s alright,” Rachel insists, reaching out to Quinn. Without thinking, she rests her hand on Quinn’s leg to keep her from getting up, and they both stare at her hand for a moment before Rachel takes it away, a flush coming to her cheeks. “You should get some rest.”
“Okay,” Quinn says, “Um, thank you. For bringing my stuff over and, you know, hanging out for a bit.”
Rachel smiles. “Of course, Quinn. It was my pleasure. I hope you feel better soon.”
“Thanks,” Quinn smiles back.
She’s about to leave the room when she decides to turn her head and say, “I really like your glasses. I think they look great on you, but, then again, you always look great. Just make sure you take them off before you go to sleep.”
Rachel turns and walks out of the house, sparing herself Quinn’s reaction. Her heart is racing, and she realizes she just survived an entire extended period of time with Quinn without getting into a single argument. The bar is low, but the stakes are high, and Rachel grins to herself at the victory. It’s a happy Valentine’s Day, indeed.
Weeks pass by as Quinn recovers from her bout of mono. She returns to school the Monday after the holiday, and, for the most part, Rachel doesn’t see much of her, with the exception of Glee and the classes they have together. She tries speaking to her a few times, but Quinn is quick to leave each time, citing one excuse or another. As the days go on, Rachel starts to lose hope of ever forming some sort of friendship with her. She begins to resign herself to the thought of only having the memory of that one day, Valentine’s Day, as her only truly friendly moments with Quinn.
It’s after Glee one day, however, that this changes. Rachel is typically the last one in the choir room, taking her time to pack up and even staying after Mr. Schue most days to practice or browse through sheet music. Today, Quinn stays behind as well, saying goodbye to Mr. Schue before she walks over to Rachel at the piano. She sits down on the bench next to her, and Rachel’s heart rate picks up from being in such close proximity to her. Quinn looks at her with a brightness in her eyes that Rachel hasn’t seen in weeks, her hair framing her face beautifully, and Rachel’s breath catches in her throat at the mere sight of her face, so close to her own.
“Hi, Rachel,” Quinn says happily.
“Quinn, hello,” Rachel says courteously, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I have some good news,” Quinn smiles.
Rachel scoffs playfully. “Is it an answer to why you’ve been avoiding me for three weeks?”
Rolling her eyes, Quinn answers, “Kind of, yes. I’m officially clear of mono.”
Unable to help herself, Rachel lights up, clapping with excitement. “Yay! I’m glad to hear that you’re feeling better.”
“I am, too,” Quinn agrees, “And I’ve been avoiding you, and most other people, because I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.”
“About?”
“Relationships, like we talked about on Valentine’s Day,” Quinn replies. “You know I broke up with Sam the next day?”
“You did?” Rachel asks. She knew they were no longer together, but she didn’t realize for how long and who had ended things.
Quinn nods and explains, “Well, he kind of broke up with me at the same time that I was trying to break up with him, but it’s all the same.” She pauses, playing a few piano keys absentmindedly before she continues, “Anyway, I have been thinking a lot. About relationships, and everything we talked about, and, well, you.”
Rachel looks at Quinn wide-eyed, not knowing where this could be going. “What do you mean?”
“I… I had such a great time with you that day,” Quinn admits reverently, her eyes shining as she stares into Rachel’s. “I was really hoping that we could, maybe, if you’re interested, do it again sometime. But… as a date this time.”
Rachel’s breath catches in her throat again at Quinn’s words. This can’t really be happening to her right now. “Are you—are you asking me out?”
“That depends,” Quinn says softly, “Are you saying yes?”
A smile lights up her face as Rachel giggles, “Yes, yes I am.”
Quinn smiles back. “Then, yes.”
Rachel stares at her in awe. She can’t believe this is happening right now. Suddenly, a thought occurs to her. “Wait,” She says, “You said you’re officially recovered from mono?”
“Yes, I am,” Quinn chuckles to herself, a smirk on her face.
“That’s… good to know,” Rachel mutters, her eyes flickering down to Quinn’s lips. With their seated positions on the piano bench, Quinn’s lips are just inches away from her own, and Rachel’s desire to lean forward and taste them has never been stronger.
She looks up to Quinn’s eyes and finds them similarly locked on her own mouth. Rachel licks her lips, watching as Quinn’s eyes shoot up to meet hers, a light blush painting her cheeks.
“Would you mind if I—” Quinn starts.
“Please,” Rachel says.
Quinn leans closer, connecting their lips in a sweet kiss, and Rachel sees stars . She kisses her back, sliding her lips against Quinn’s, and it feels even better than she imagined it to feel. Kissing Quinn is delicate, smooth, the smell of her perfume and the taste of her lip gloss and the softness of her lips overwhelming every single one of Rachel’s senses.
When Quinn pulls back, Rachel is stunned, her eyes locked onto Quinn’s lips, wanting nothing more than to lean back in and get a second taste. But she refrains, just for a moment, to tell Quinn something she hadn’t told her all those weeks ago.
“Quinn, I have to admit,” Rachel says breathlessly, her eyes travelling up to meet Quinn’s, “When I talked to Finn on Valentine’s Day, I may or may not have asked him what it feels like to kiss you.”
Quinn bursts into laughter, and Rachel grins at the amused smile on her face. “Are you serious?”
“Completely serious,” Rachel admits, “I couldn’t help myself.”
Quinn smirks. “Well, what does it feel like?”
Rachel smiles as she says, “Fireworks,” and sees Quinn’s face light up. “Though I might have to do further investigation to confirm.”
“I could agree to that,” Quinn says, closing the distance between their lips once more.
Rachel kisses Quinn, seeing stars and bursts of color and light, and smiles with the knowledge that Quinn, for the first time in her life, sees the same.