FIC: In Bed With You Enemies [3a/?]
Title: In Bed with Your Enemies [3a/?]
Rating: PG-13
Rachel has a secret. Too bad Coach Sue Sylvester knows all about it. Brittberry, Faberry, Pezberry.
Chp 2
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Disclaimer: I own nothing. The only thing I do own is my imagination of things that will probably never ever happen. Still, a girl can dream.
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“Ain’t nothin’ gonna break my stride
Nobody’s gonna slow me down, oh no!”
With the lyrics of Matthew Wilder’s “Break My Stride” filling the air, Rachel’s eyes snapped open as the upper half of her body shot up from the bed. Eyes wide and frantic, the girl looked left and right - taking quick, precise glances around. The brunette’s actions didn’t last very long before her sights honed in on the Cheerio outfit hanging at the far right side of her room.
“I got to keep on movin’
Ain’t nothin’ gonna break my stride”
Releasing a loud, frustrated groan, Rachel let herself fall backwards before promptly pulling the covers up and over her head. The idea that she had become a Cheerio as the basis for some recent, horrible nightmare had just proven to be a definite piece of reality.
“I’m running and I won’t touch ground
Oh no, I got to keep on movin!’”
Groaning louder, Rachel let her legs kick out a couple of times in defiance. She really didn’t want to attend McKinley without her trademark knee-highs accompanied by the usual skirt and argyle top. Her perfectly chosen articles of clothing were a statement of herself and reflected her positive, professional attitude. However, at that particular moment, Rachel was acting anything but professional.
“You’re on a roll and now you pray it lasts
The road behind was rocky
But now you’re feeling cocky”
For an instant Rachel let the childish thought of staying in bed all day linger in her mind - it would never happen, of course, but it was nice enough to imagine. Tentatively, she peered out from underneath her covers and glanced at the clock beside her bed; it read 6:01am. Unwilling to waste any more of her precious minutes - good time management is a must - Rachel reluctantly threw down the covers. The longer she continued to push the actual facts away, the harsher the truth remained when it continues to mockingly slap her in the face with its unrelenting presence.
“You look at me and you see your past
Is that the reason why you’re runnin’ so fast?
And she said”
Getting up, the girl shuffled off to begin the day with her usual morning habits. Hopefully that one wasted minute wouldn’t prove to be disastrous enough to throw her off her routine too badly. Moving towards the bathroom, Rachel let herself get influenced by the upbeat tune of the song, softly singing along as she prepared for the day.
“Ain’t nothin’ gonna break my stride
Nobody’s gonna slow me down, oh no!
I got to keep on movin’”
Besides, today couldn’t possibly be any worse.
Famous last words.
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“Put your backs into it! No slacking!! An extra ten miles for you, Freckles!”
Lowering her bullhorn, Sue Sylvester frowned. The performance today had been dismal at best; worse than yesterday, if that was even at all possible. Naturally, as punishment, Sue had the girls running to her little heart’s content - or, at least, until their hearts gave out; whichever came first. Eyeing the unacceptable amount lagging at the back of the pack, Sue speculated whether or not to keep this up for another half hour.
Sure it may eat up into the first hour of their other, more irrelevant classes but lowly subjects such as teenagers needed to be ruled - not just taught - with an iron fist. And the first order of business dictates that sloppiness will never be accepted, not now and definitely not ever.
An unfortunate Cheerio trips, effectively causing Sue’s eyes to narrow all the more. The bullhorn swiftly reapproaching her lips, the imposing woman let loose another string of encouragement. “Pick up the pace you maggots unless you want to become the next Stacy₁!”
The runs begin to pick up speed and Sue mentally congratulated herself on a job well done. It’ll only be a matter of time before they began dropping like flies. That should teach them to not mess up the cheer routine.
Satisfied, Sue let her eyes wander to her newest Cheerio. Surprisingly, the vertically-challenged girl had managed to position herself in the middle of the pack, neither leading nor lagging. No matter, Sue was determined - and most definitely willing - to mold Berry into an excellent addition to her squad of Cheerios.
Unfortunately (or luckily), her concentration on the girl is marred by the sounds of a beeping watch. And, looking down at her wrist, the towering woman noticed it was time for her daily dose of horse estrogen₂.
After a few more minutes of watching the Cheerios literally drowning in their own sweat and tears, Sue decided to cut the torment.
“Pack it up! I don’t want to see your pitiful faces anymore!” Sue bellowed into her bullhorn before strutting off.
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Rachel gritted her teeth as she carefully walked - not limp - to the girls’ locker room. Ignoring the not-so-muted groans permeating the air, she tried not to hobble over to her designated ‘Cheerios Only’ locker. At this moment, walking into the girls’ locker room was the equivalent to walking into a lion’s den while the owners were still inside. It was best not to show any weakness. She doubted the other Cheerios would hesitate to pounce at the first hint; Sue probably trained them for it.
Suppressing another wince, Rachel opened her locker and promptly took out the duffel bag stuffed inside. Normally she’d opt for a quick shower but under these circumstances - she eyed the nearby grumbling Cheerios warily - Rachel thought it best to forgo that option.
The brunette may have been optimistic about most things, but even she had the most common of senses to hightail it out of there as soon as possible. And although there was a Sue-issued proclamation for her to be treated accordingly, Rachel doubted her usual tormentors - particularly two Cheerios - would stop cold turkey. She could only hope that some embarrassing hazing ritual doesn’t occur with the flimsy excuse of promoting camaraderie within the squad. Rachel had most definitely seen those horrifying documentaries on hazings gone wrong. Plus, she saw Carrie - she doubted anyone hasn’t.
Besides, she could always freshen up at one of the many restrooms that McKinley had. From her numerous occasions of being slushied, Rachel had, as a practicality, memorized the location of each and every facility available on school grounds.
Taking a few subtle glances here and there, the girl noted the surrounding preoccupied Cheerios and made her move. Holding the duffel bag close, she swiftly walked towards the nearest available exit. The brunette took special caution to avoid any contact - especially eye contact - and prayed for a quick, clean escape.
Unfortunately not all prayers are immediately answered. And Rachel happened to make the mistake of looking back, failing to notice the girl just around the corner behind some rows of lockers. It wasn’t long before the scurrying diva felt her body collide with that of an unsuspecting Cheerio.
Stumbling backwards, Rachel mentally chided herself for the unexpected incident; there goes the possibility of escaping confrontation or, at least, postponing it for a later date - say, after she’d taken some self-defense classes.
Regaining her footing, Rachel immediately began delivering her apology at the accident all the while moving quickly to help the unintentionally downed girl. Her fast movements only attested to the fact that her earlier pains - both from Sue’s brutal workout and this most recent accident - had already begun dissipating. “I’m truly sorry. It was all… my… fault,” Rachel slowly trailed off once she glanced up at the other individual involved.
Quinn Fabray. Fantastic.
Rachel felt her heart drop in dread at the thought of the other girl’s possible, numerous reactions. First and foremost, however, Rachel expected the customary (and childish) name-calling followed by an insult on her personal self. When Quinn’s eyes narrowed in sight of her, Rachel reflexively steeled herself for the impending backlash and berating.
Besides the prompt retracting of the blonde’s hand from hers, the Cheerio-clad diva was left surprisingly unscathed.
“Watch it,” Quinn hissed before walking past.
For a moment, Rachel thought her mind had momentarily lapsed and was playing tricks once again. But, after blinking a few times in suspended thought, she realizes that Quinn had indeed left it at that.
Tilting her head slightly, Rachel tried to rationalize the recent encounter. Absolutely nothing had prepared her for this; it was a bit anticlimactic actually.
And, in unlike Rachel Berry fashion, the petite brunette could only dumbly stare after Quinn, still in slight awe at the outcome of the situation. “I’m sorry?” she lamely apologized a few seconds later before mentally berating herself at the pathetic-ness of her actions.
Quinn was already too far off to have heard her attempted apology, or much less cared.
Recomposing herself, Rachel ended her blatant gawking of Quinn’s departing form. She could analyze this strange occurrence later, preferably in a safer environment. Ignoring the terribly hidden stares and whispers, Rachel griped the strap on her duffel bag tighter before turning to continue on her original path. She would have been well on her way if it wasn’t for the sudden push that resulted with her being shoved to the side.
Stumbling sideways, Rachel braced herself against some nearby lockers to keep from falling onto the locker room floors. Wincing from the impact, she didn’t hesitate to guess on the identity of her aggressor.
“Move it twerp,” a recognizable Latina remarked before following the same path Quinn had taken earlier.
Rachel’s eyes didn’t linger on the other girl’s form long before she headed towards the double doors that was her salvation. At least Santana’s actions still remained the same. Rachel supposes she could be slightly grateful for that fact.
Once again, the diva ignored the barely disguised whispers of disdain and wonderment as she exited.
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“How is she still standing?” one Cheerio questioned out loud.
A couple of grunts and pained groans were granted as answers.
Not long afterwards, however, a string of chatter had fallen over the girls’ locker room; the initial question breaking out following other curious inquiries.
Nevertheless, Quinn simply ignored the noisy babble in the background. She refused to play part in fueling the completely ridiculous gossips surrounding Rachel. There were only two questions that Quinn cared about: How was Rachel Berry a Cheerio and why would Coach Sylvester ever agree to let that… thing become one? Nothing but the truth will distract her from her cause.
Of course, the stray thought that Rachel had surprisingly soft hands did float into her conscious before she quickly stomped on and lit fire to that ridiculous notion.
Pulling out a few essentials from her gym locker, Quinn mused over the recent circumstance that had befallen the Cheerios. Getting Rachel to either quit or kicked out of cheerleading wasn’t going to be easy, especially if their coach seemed eager on fully integrating the annoying pipsqueak into the squad. Still, a few ideas entered her mind as she began to undress.
Unexpectedly though, a loud bang interrupts Quinn from her thoughts. Looking to her left, the Cheerio captain noticed Santana standing there with her own locker door wide open and right arm slightly outstretched, signaling that the Latina had just haphazardly thrown something in.
“So that’s your plan? Don’t insult her?” the Latina casually questions, eyes never once focused on Quinn. Santana seemed quite content with going about with her own business, taking out a towel and other few personal effects.
“Shut up,” Quinn retorts before stripping off the last of her uniform and tossing it into her locker. With a towel wrapped around her own body, she quickly slams her locker door shut in a huff. The blonde automatically regrets the move as she winced from the additional strain put on her already aching muscles. Having Sue’s crazed fury enacted upon them had definitely made every Cheerio regret underperforming to the woman’s expectations.
Walking at a moderate pace towards the locker room showers, Quinn briefly wondered about how Rachel seemed to handle Coach Sylvester’s workouts with relative ease for a newbie.
An onlooking Santana only shakes her head at Quinn’s actions before returning to her own. Of course, she paused once more when another familiar blonde entered her sights.
“Where’s Rachel?” Brittany innocently questioned before approaching her own locker besides Santana’s. “Coach called me into her office earlier,” the tall blonde further explained yet still remaining vague on the details.
“Anywhere but here,” Santana only muttered, not noticing the slight frown that marred her companion’s face at the answer.
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Turning off the hair dryer, Rachel wrapped up the electrical cord before grabbing her duffel bag and heading towards the bathroom stalls. Picking the closest available one, she routinely entered and locked the compartment door.
Once inside, Rachel let her posture slump slightly before releasing a deep sigh. Regularly changing outfits in one of McKinley’s many restrooms had become a norm for her, but still doing so after becoming a Cheerio set about a somewhat depressing mood. She may have been hasty with her acceptance of a position into the Cheerios, but Rachel still wasn’t delusional enough to believe that a cordial relationship would immediately be established with her (forced) new team mates.
The diva still thanked the Almighty Streisand that she hadn’t been outright slaughtered the first time she appeared Cheerio dressed. However, Rachel knew it’d only be a matter of time before her luck ran out. And she absolutely wasn’t going to push it by actively provoking these girls with her (soon-to-be-constant) presence.
So it’d be best to stay out of their way - out of harm’s way. At least until the emitting danger dissipated from her sixth sense.
Hearing nothing but the usual ambient noises, Rachel forced her mind to clear before refocusing on the task at hand. Hanging her duffel bag on the hook inside the stall, she unzipped the top and placed her hair dryer inside before staring at the set of clothing neatly folded within.
It was quite amazing what Sue Sylvester could accomplish to fulfill her wants and the wants of her Cheerios. But seriously, what kind of cheerleader needs at least five sets of basically the same uniform. The amount was preposterous really even if Sue argued that her Cheerios required a clean uniform for each of the school day in the week.
Rachel briefly wondered about the enormity of the Cheerios’ budgets - as opposed to Glee Club’s allotted minuscule spending - for Sue to so outrageously afford the required extra uniforms for each member in her squad.
Letting out a tired breath, Rachel moved to change out of her used uniform, wiping off any sweat along the way with a clean packed towel. She kept her actions meticulous, never wasting a move - years of preparing for life on a Broadway stage does that. But then again, being slushied every now and then did give her great practice as well.
She timed at five minutes. Well, a little over five but she can work on that.
Zipping up the back of her red skirt, Rachel straightened her posture and smoothed out any possible imperfections on the new Cheerio uniform she currently donned. Grabbing her duffel bag off the hook, she stepped out the stall and moved towards an available mirror by the sinks.
Perhaps by chance, at that exact moment, the door to the girls’ restroom opened causing Rachel to momentarily freeze in her tracks at the unexpected entrance. A flash of blonde hair only spiked her adrenaline levels, preparing herself for a fight-or-flight response.
“Did someone slushie you, Rachel?”
Hearing the concern in the voice, the newly dressed girl pushed away the small instance of terror and turned to face the identity of her intruder.
Brittany simply stood by the entryway, a slight frown marring the dancer’s usual cheerful nature.
Visibly relaxing, Rachel became relieved at the (other) blonde’s appearance, though she was somewhat curious to Brittany’s unusual deviating of typical high-spiritedness. A question of her own at the tip of her tongue, Rachel hesitated with her curious inquiry once she remembered the manners Dad and Daddy taught her.
“Oh,” the brunette muttered, mainly to herself, as the earlier question entered her mind. “No,” Rachel continued before looking down at herself and up. “I’m actually slushie-free (for once),” she finishes, though the latter two words were spoken more softly.
For a split second, Brittany’s frown seemed to have deepened before evaporating into a smile. “Good,” she answers before skipping over. The blonde didn’t hesitate to unexpectedly pull Rachel into a hug, startling the shorter girl once more with her touchy-feely acts. “But why were you changing in here then?” Brittany questions further as she peered down at the petite brunette currently wrapped up in her arms.
Having stiffened at the first touch, Rachel struggled with looking everywhere but straight forward; there was the delicate matter of a certain someone’s chest being right there. Her attempts proved feeble, however, as Brittany seemed quite content with firmly holding onto Rachel, ultimately preventing the brunette from repositioning herself.
With that rather prominent distraction, it was quite understandable that Rachel’s mind had spiraled into nothingness. Fortunately, after some time, the blonde’s second question finally registered within her mind and only another needed minute was required for her to formulate an answer.
Brittany, nonetheless, didn’t seem to mind the stretching silence.
“I,” Rachel starts before pausing to recollect herself, “I just feel more comfortable changing in here. I know that the other Cheerios haven’t really accepted me, only just tolerating me to - at the very least - avoid Sue’s wrath.”
The answer was a somber one but Brittany didn’t hesitate with her response to Rachel’s explanation. “I accept you,” she admits as she tightened the hug.
Rachel’s pulse only rose at the close proximity becoming even closer. And, although the brunette could feel her face heating up at the physical contact, she felt a certain amount of sadness creep into her heart from Brittany’s naiveté.
“I appreciate it Brittany,” Rachel manages to reply before slowly hugging the girl back. The diva briefly wondered whether her life would be as simple (and normal) as the dancer before her believed it to be.
Her thoughts are shaken when the hug suddenly ends and Brittany begins turning her around, facing her towards the sinks. “Let me help,” the girl spoke excitedly as she began fussing over Rachel’s hair. And with a quick fix, the diva’s transformation was completed with the custom ponytail trademark of all cheerleaders.
“Perfect,” Brittany exclaims before looping arms with the brunette and strolling off. Luckily, Rachel managed to grab her duffel bag off the floor - having fallen previous to the first hug - before they exited arm-in-arm.
The future starlet tried hard to keep up, both in strides and the conversation, as the blonde rambled off the randomn-est of discussions.
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Meanwhile, taking place in a nearby office, an argument was begging to erupt. And, as usual, Sue Sylvester and William Schuester were present; both stood at opposite sides of the room while Figgins sat at his desk.
“What is it this time?” Figgins questioned, effectively starting the dispute.
“She is deliberately trying to steal Rachel from the Glee Club!” Will proclaimed with an outstretched finger.
Sue straightened, pushing off the bookshelf Figgins kept in his office, before slowly approaching her curly-haired nemesis.
“First off,” Sue began before slapping the accusing finger away, “Don’t point fingers unless you’re willing to lose them.”
Will only narrowed his eyes in response.
“And second, I’m not surprised you would reference a girl as some property you can steal.” Sue turned to look at Figgins. “That’s sexism right there. I suggest you report him right away or I will.” Turning back to face Will, Sue crossed her arms before staring staunchly at her unworthy opponent. “Lastly, I don’t need to steal anything of yours, not that you own my new flyer.”
“Oh, your new flyer?” Will retorts with emphasizes on the word ‘your’.
Sue doesn’t hesitate with her response. “All my Cheerios sign a basic contact allowing me full command of their lives - within certain means, of course. So essentially, yes, I do own the Cheerios,” she stops momentarily to smile at her unrelenting nuisance, “Don’t worry William. This is only to ensure that the girls will be topnotch in their performances.”
“Contracts?” Will questions as his face scrunched up in slight disgust. Shaking his head, he continued on with his remarks. “You can’t be serious.”
“I’m always serious William,” Sue answers before straightening her tracksuit and strutting off towards the bookshelf she had left earlier. Picking up the folder resting on the cabinet top the bookshelves were situated on, Sue proceeded with pulling out two copies of papers neatly stapled. “And, to show you how serious I am, I brought you each a copy of Rachel Berry’s contract,” the woman proclaims as she produced said items.
Will was the first to grab the papers right away as Sue drops the other copy on top of Figgins’s desk. Skimming the first few pages, Will soon flipped to the end to see a bona fide signature of Rachel’s, complete with a gold star sticker, effectively sealing the agreement.
“I can’t believe it,” Will mutters.
Shaking himself out of the slight funk, Will continued in his protest. “Rachel would never voluntarily join the Cheerios. You must have coerced her somehow,” the man reasoned.
“Or maybe you just don’t know your students as well as you thought.”
Will didn’t let Sue’s retort - although it struck a chord - deter him. Turning towards Figgins, he tried addressing the situation to the supposed higher authority.
“Principal Figgins, you cannot let this farce continue on. It’s obvious that Sue,” once again he pointed an accusing finger, “Is only trying to monopolize Rachel’s time. Or, at the very least, demoralize the girl using the other Cheerios. Why else would she want Rachel on her team?”
Figgins only wordlessly shrugged - he had been busily reading Sue’s contract - not quite sure how to handle Will’s protests.
Off to the side, Sue only rolled her eyes; it seemed like SpongeHair SquareChin would never learn. Leaning against the bookshelf once more, and crossing her arms, the track-suited woman began her defending arguments.
“Tsk tsk William,” she starts. “You make it seem like the girl’s a one-trick pony.” Again Sue smiled that devious smile, the one where she obviously knew something that no one else did.
Will hated that smile.
“Did you know the little monkey actually has some skills that extend over to dance, gymnastics, and other aspects that make her a perfect candidate for being a Cheerio? If you don’t believe me, then maybe her plethora of awards and first place trophies would convince you.”
Will only looked shocked that Rachel was (or is) a gymnast. He knew the girl took dance - ballet, obviously - but Rachel always seemed so focused on singing and Broadway. Will never thought that Rachel would strive to excel in any other areas.
And so he could only stutter and fumble over his next choice of words. His attempts were proving to become rather pathetic - and deliciously fantastic Sue thought.
The Cheerios’ coach didn’t hesitate to take the reins of continuing what was starting to become a one-sided conversation.
“And if you’d bother reading the contract in full,” Sue unfolded her arms, “Then you’d see that an extra clause was made in regards to your precious Glee Club.” Pausing in her speech, the woman took out a small pair of reading glasses she kept in the pockets of her track suit. Sue blinked a couple of times for clarity before producing her own copy of Rachel’s contract from the folder she carried. Flipping to the near end, the woman began reading.
“No known attempts will be made to ensure any Cheerio activities within Miss Sylvester’s control would overlap with Glee Club’s scheduled activities.” Taking off her glasses, Sue faced Will once more. “I’d like you to notice the emphasis on the word ‘known’ William. I just can’t always have my Cheerios work according to your schedule. I need some leeway as well.”
“This doesn’t disprove the fact that you’re still planning something Sue,” Will argues.
“Squawk, squawk, squawk.” Sue gestures with one hand, motioning it in representation of Will’s attempted henpecking. “Try pestering someone else about your disillusionment of misgivings,” she continues before turning towards the other room’s quite silent occupant, “Figgins!”
“Actually Will,” the principal immediately jumps in, “Contracts are a good thing. See here, Sue also included this clause: ‘Any injuries, both physical and/or mental, sustained are of the recipient’s responsibility themselves. Miss Sylvester cannot be blamed for the Cheerio’s own mistakes.’ Now the school doesn’t need to worry about any lawsuits coming from the cheerleaders.”
Will only shook his head at Figgins’s entire focus surrounded on concerns for the school instead of a student’s current (and possibly dire) situation.
Sue only smirked as she put away her glasses and closed the folder in her hands. Satisfaction was a feeling that she’d always got used to easily. But feeling satisfied was never enough for Sue Sylvester; the woman needed to see her opponents crumble and burned for their audacity to butt heads with her.
Coincidentally, the appearance of a certain student just outside the principal’s office was exactly what Sue had in mind. Strolling across the office, Sue ignored what other spew Will was attempting to feed Figgins to take Rachel off the Cheerios.
“Just last week Sue had been turning a blind eye towards Rachel’s presence. And now she’s acknowledging the girl as her newest Cheerio? Doesn’t that seem odd to you?” Will complained, quite persistent in his cause.
Approaching the office doors, Sue turned to face the other two occupants of the room. “How about we just ask the girl in question, herself, how she feels about this?” And with swift movements, Sue had all the doors - both Figgins’s and Donna’s₃ - open and promptly called out to a nearby Cheerio.
“Berry! Come on in here for a moment,” the coach ordered.
Figgins and Will watched as Rachel - in all her Cheerio galore - spoke a few words with Brittany before approaching the principal’s office. Her eyebrows scrunched up slightly in confusion, obviously wondering about her requested presence. No matter, the girl didn’t hesitate in her steps; seemingly positive on her later deductions of the situation.
“What do you think about the Cheerios, Berry?” Sue asked, straight to the point.
Rachel was quiet for a split second in thought before answering. “They aren’t all quite what I’ve expected.”
“See! My Cheerios are getting along just fine,” Sue proclaims before shooing Rachel back out the office. The girl didn’t protest and quickly followed orders, rejoining Brittany who stood outside waiting.
“Rachel wai-” Will began, moving towards the door, only for Sue to cut him off both mid-sentence and in his path.
“William!” Sue admonishes in a slight reprimanding tone. Still blocking Will’s pathway to the door, Sue crosses her arms as she remained there. “The girl’s obviously trying to get to class. And, if I had to theorized, you’re the only person around that’s trying to monopolize Berry’s time.”
“Me?!” Will literally squawked in surprise as he backed up some. He should have known Sue was going to try to turn everything around on him.
Uncrossing her arms, Sue stood to her full height - the differences in stature between Sue and Will seemingly magnifying. The towering woman started her march forward, forcing Will to stumble back to avoid getting pushed over - or worse, trampled on.
“You can’t handle the fact what talent your little Glee Club has is deciding to do a little outside performing on the side,” Sue pauses to look at Figgins, “Personally, I say he’s just jealous that his little star might end up leaving his sorry pathetic a-”
“Sue! That’s enough!” Figgins immediately interjects before Sue could finish the sentence, otherwise known as an insult.
“And Will, unless you can legitimately show that Miss Sylvester here coerced Rachel into joining the Cheerios, you cannot be throwing wild accusations around,” Figgins concluded before the arguments could start all over again. He swears the two are like children when one another are involved, always bickering to no end.
Sue smiled that awful smile once again. “That’s right William. Just because you don’t have much of one doesn’t mean you can go off willy-nilly and try to ruin my reputation,” she explains before leaving the office.
“Out of my way!” she suddenly shouts before pushing some students off her taken path and into the walls.
“I can’t believe this,” Will remarks before exiting the office as well.
Figgins only hoped they didn’t darken his office with their presence again. Or, at least, any time soon. He then popped in two pills of Advil from the bottle he always kept in his drawer for situations like these.
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First period classes had only just ended and already Rachel found herself being confronted by Jacob Ben Israel while on her way to her next class.
“So Rachel, everyone wants to know what brought about the recent changes?” the bespectacled boy asked before pressing forward the digital tape recorder he recently brought.
Rachel only shoved the intruding object away from her face before turning a corner. “Leave me alone Jacob,” she demanded.
As usual, the boy proved persistent and continued on with his already aggravating interview of the recently made Cheerio. “And how exactly did you get Sue Sylvester to agree to bring you on as one of her Cheerios?”
The silence stretched unanimously as only the shuffling of passersby permeated the air. Again Jacob tried to get an answer with another question.
“Brittany seems to have taken an instant liking to you. Care to comment on that rather fast relationship between the two of you?” Jacob offered with the wagging of his eyebrows.
Rachel merely rolls her eyes at the obvious suggestion being made before continuing with her disregard of the hormonal pervert. Fortunately, a view of her next class appeared and the brunette was prompt to speed up her entrance into the room. Taking a seat, the brunette remained at the edge of the chair, ready to move should Jacob have followed her inside. Luckily, after an absence of afros and constant questioning, Rachel let herself relax slightly. Even though the hounding wouldn’t cease any time soon, Jacob - at the very least - couldn’t pester her during class time. Of course, after that thought, a shout was given and heard by all nearby.
“The truth will be known, Rachel!”
The sole Cheerio in the classroom could only groan.
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Chp 3b
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A/N: Continued in part B.
₁ Stacy’s the name of the girl whom Rachel replaced as a Cheerio.
₂ Not sure if Sue does actually take horse estrogen. Will does mentions it once as a rumor.
₃ Donna’s the name of Principal Figgins’s secretary.
Rating: PG-13
Rachel has a secret. Too bad Coach Sue Sylvester knows all about it. Brittberry, Faberry, Pezberry.
Chp 2
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Disclaimer: I own nothing. The only thing I do own is my imagination of things that will probably never ever happen. Still, a girl can dream.
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“Ain’t nothin’ gonna break my stride
Nobody’s gonna slow me down, oh no!”
With the lyrics of Matthew Wilder’s “Break My Stride” filling the air, Rachel’s eyes snapped open as the upper half of her body shot up from the bed. Eyes wide and frantic, the girl looked left and right - taking quick, precise glances around. The brunette’s actions didn’t last very long before her sights honed in on the Cheerio outfit hanging at the far right side of her room.
“I got to keep on movin’
Ain’t nothin’ gonna break my stride”
Releasing a loud, frustrated groan, Rachel let herself fall backwards before promptly pulling the covers up and over her head. The idea that she had become a Cheerio as the basis for some recent, horrible nightmare had just proven to be a definite piece of reality.
“I’m running and I won’t touch ground
Oh no, I got to keep on movin!’”
Groaning louder, Rachel let her legs kick out a couple of times in defiance. She really didn’t want to attend McKinley without her trademark knee-highs accompanied by the usual skirt and argyle top. Her perfectly chosen articles of clothing were a statement of herself and reflected her positive, professional attitude. However, at that particular moment, Rachel was acting anything but professional.
“You’re on a roll and now you pray it lasts
The road behind was rocky
But now you’re feeling cocky”
For an instant Rachel let the childish thought of staying in bed all day linger in her mind - it would never happen, of course, but it was nice enough to imagine. Tentatively, she peered out from underneath her covers and glanced at the clock beside her bed; it read 6:01am. Unwilling to waste any more of her precious minutes - good time management is a must - Rachel reluctantly threw down the covers. The longer she continued to push the actual facts away, the harsher the truth remained when it continues to mockingly slap her in the face with its unrelenting presence.
“You look at me and you see your past
Is that the reason why you’re runnin’ so fast?
And she said”
Getting up, the girl shuffled off to begin the day with her usual morning habits. Hopefully that one wasted minute wouldn’t prove to be disastrous enough to throw her off her routine too badly. Moving towards the bathroom, Rachel let herself get influenced by the upbeat tune of the song, softly singing along as she prepared for the day.
“Ain’t nothin’ gonna break my stride
Nobody’s gonna slow me down, oh no!
I got to keep on movin’”
Besides, today couldn’t possibly be any worse.
Famous last words.
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“Put your backs into it! No slacking!! An extra ten miles for you, Freckles!”
Lowering her bullhorn, Sue Sylvester frowned. The performance today had been dismal at best; worse than yesterday, if that was even at all possible. Naturally, as punishment, Sue had the girls running to her little heart’s content - or, at least, until their hearts gave out; whichever came first. Eyeing the unacceptable amount lagging at the back of the pack, Sue speculated whether or not to keep this up for another half hour.
Sure it may eat up into the first hour of their other, more irrelevant classes but lowly subjects such as teenagers needed to be ruled - not just taught - with an iron fist. And the first order of business dictates that sloppiness will never be accepted, not now and definitely not ever.
An unfortunate Cheerio trips, effectively causing Sue’s eyes to narrow all the more. The bullhorn swiftly reapproaching her lips, the imposing woman let loose another string of encouragement. “Pick up the pace you maggots unless you want to become the next Stacy₁!”
The runs begin to pick up speed and Sue mentally congratulated herself on a job well done. It’ll only be a matter of time before they began dropping like flies. That should teach them to not mess up the cheer routine.
Satisfied, Sue let her eyes wander to her newest Cheerio. Surprisingly, the vertically-challenged girl had managed to position herself in the middle of the pack, neither leading nor lagging. No matter, Sue was determined - and most definitely willing - to mold Berry into an excellent addition to her squad of Cheerios.
Unfortunately (or luckily), her concentration on the girl is marred by the sounds of a beeping watch. And, looking down at her wrist, the towering woman noticed it was time for her daily dose of horse estrogen₂.
After a few more minutes of watching the Cheerios literally drowning in their own sweat and tears, Sue decided to cut the torment.
“Pack it up! I don’t want to see your pitiful faces anymore!” Sue bellowed into her bullhorn before strutting off.
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Rachel gritted her teeth as she carefully walked - not limp - to the girls’ locker room. Ignoring the not-so-muted groans permeating the air, she tried not to hobble over to her designated ‘Cheerios Only’ locker. At this moment, walking into the girls’ locker room was the equivalent to walking into a lion’s den while the owners were still inside. It was best not to show any weakness. She doubted the other Cheerios would hesitate to pounce at the first hint; Sue probably trained them for it.
Suppressing another wince, Rachel opened her locker and promptly took out the duffel bag stuffed inside. Normally she’d opt for a quick shower but under these circumstances - she eyed the nearby grumbling Cheerios warily - Rachel thought it best to forgo that option.
The brunette may have been optimistic about most things, but even she had the most common of senses to hightail it out of there as soon as possible. And although there was a Sue-issued proclamation for her to be treated accordingly, Rachel doubted her usual tormentors - particularly two Cheerios - would stop cold turkey. She could only hope that some embarrassing hazing ritual doesn’t occur with the flimsy excuse of promoting camaraderie within the squad. Rachel had most definitely seen those horrifying documentaries on hazings gone wrong. Plus, she saw Carrie - she doubted anyone hasn’t.
Besides, she could always freshen up at one of the many restrooms that McKinley had. From her numerous occasions of being slushied, Rachel had, as a practicality, memorized the location of each and every facility available on school grounds.
Taking a few subtle glances here and there, the girl noted the surrounding preoccupied Cheerios and made her move. Holding the duffel bag close, she swiftly walked towards the nearest available exit. The brunette took special caution to avoid any contact - especially eye contact - and prayed for a quick, clean escape.
Unfortunately not all prayers are immediately answered. And Rachel happened to make the mistake of looking back, failing to notice the girl just around the corner behind some rows of lockers. It wasn’t long before the scurrying diva felt her body collide with that of an unsuspecting Cheerio.
Stumbling backwards, Rachel mentally chided herself for the unexpected incident; there goes the possibility of escaping confrontation or, at least, postponing it for a later date - say, after she’d taken some self-defense classes.
Regaining her footing, Rachel immediately began delivering her apology at the accident all the while moving quickly to help the unintentionally downed girl. Her fast movements only attested to the fact that her earlier pains - both from Sue’s brutal workout and this most recent accident - had already begun dissipating. “I’m truly sorry. It was all… my… fault,” Rachel slowly trailed off once she glanced up at the other individual involved.
Quinn Fabray. Fantastic.
Rachel felt her heart drop in dread at the thought of the other girl’s possible, numerous reactions. First and foremost, however, Rachel expected the customary (and childish) name-calling followed by an insult on her personal self. When Quinn’s eyes narrowed in sight of her, Rachel reflexively steeled herself for the impending backlash and berating.
Besides the prompt retracting of the blonde’s hand from hers, the Cheerio-clad diva was left surprisingly unscathed.
“Watch it,” Quinn hissed before walking past.
For a moment, Rachel thought her mind had momentarily lapsed and was playing tricks once again. But, after blinking a few times in suspended thought, she realizes that Quinn had indeed left it at that.
Tilting her head slightly, Rachel tried to rationalize the recent encounter. Absolutely nothing had prepared her for this; it was a bit anticlimactic actually.
And, in unlike Rachel Berry fashion, the petite brunette could only dumbly stare after Quinn, still in slight awe at the outcome of the situation. “I’m sorry?” she lamely apologized a few seconds later before mentally berating herself at the pathetic-ness of her actions.
Quinn was already too far off to have heard her attempted apology, or much less cared.
Recomposing herself, Rachel ended her blatant gawking of Quinn’s departing form. She could analyze this strange occurrence later, preferably in a safer environment. Ignoring the terribly hidden stares and whispers, Rachel griped the strap on her duffel bag tighter before turning to continue on her original path. She would have been well on her way if it wasn’t for the sudden push that resulted with her being shoved to the side.
Stumbling sideways, Rachel braced herself against some nearby lockers to keep from falling onto the locker room floors. Wincing from the impact, she didn’t hesitate to guess on the identity of her aggressor.
“Move it twerp,” a recognizable Latina remarked before following the same path Quinn had taken earlier.
Rachel’s eyes didn’t linger on the other girl’s form long before she headed towards the double doors that was her salvation. At least Santana’s actions still remained the same. Rachel supposes she could be slightly grateful for that fact.
Once again, the diva ignored the barely disguised whispers of disdain and wonderment as she exited.
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“How is she still standing?” one Cheerio questioned out loud.
A couple of grunts and pained groans were granted as answers.
Not long afterwards, however, a string of chatter had fallen over the girls’ locker room; the initial question breaking out following other curious inquiries.
Nevertheless, Quinn simply ignored the noisy babble in the background. She refused to play part in fueling the completely ridiculous gossips surrounding Rachel. There were only two questions that Quinn cared about: How was Rachel Berry a Cheerio and why would Coach Sylvester ever agree to let that… thing become one? Nothing but the truth will distract her from her cause.
Of course, the stray thought that Rachel had surprisingly soft hands did float into her conscious before she quickly stomped on and lit fire to that ridiculous notion.
Pulling out a few essentials from her gym locker, Quinn mused over the recent circumstance that had befallen the Cheerios. Getting Rachel to either quit or kicked out of cheerleading wasn’t going to be easy, especially if their coach seemed eager on fully integrating the annoying pipsqueak into the squad. Still, a few ideas entered her mind as she began to undress.
Unexpectedly though, a loud bang interrupts Quinn from her thoughts. Looking to her left, the Cheerio captain noticed Santana standing there with her own locker door wide open and right arm slightly outstretched, signaling that the Latina had just haphazardly thrown something in.
“So that’s your plan? Don’t insult her?” the Latina casually questions, eyes never once focused on Quinn. Santana seemed quite content with going about with her own business, taking out a towel and other few personal effects.
“Shut up,” Quinn retorts before stripping off the last of her uniform and tossing it into her locker. With a towel wrapped around her own body, she quickly slams her locker door shut in a huff. The blonde automatically regrets the move as she winced from the additional strain put on her already aching muscles. Having Sue’s crazed fury enacted upon them had definitely made every Cheerio regret underperforming to the woman’s expectations.
Walking at a moderate pace towards the locker room showers, Quinn briefly wondered about how Rachel seemed to handle Coach Sylvester’s workouts with relative ease for a newbie.
An onlooking Santana only shakes her head at Quinn’s actions before returning to her own. Of course, she paused once more when another familiar blonde entered her sights.
“Where’s Rachel?” Brittany innocently questioned before approaching her own locker besides Santana’s. “Coach called me into her office earlier,” the tall blonde further explained yet still remaining vague on the details.
“Anywhere but here,” Santana only muttered, not noticing the slight frown that marred her companion’s face at the answer.
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Turning off the hair dryer, Rachel wrapped up the electrical cord before grabbing her duffel bag and heading towards the bathroom stalls. Picking the closest available one, she routinely entered and locked the compartment door.
Once inside, Rachel let her posture slump slightly before releasing a deep sigh. Regularly changing outfits in one of McKinley’s many restrooms had become a norm for her, but still doing so after becoming a Cheerio set about a somewhat depressing mood. She may have been hasty with her acceptance of a position into the Cheerios, but Rachel still wasn’t delusional enough to believe that a cordial relationship would immediately be established with her (forced) new team mates.
The diva still thanked the Almighty Streisand that she hadn’t been outright slaughtered the first time she appeared Cheerio dressed. However, Rachel knew it’d only be a matter of time before her luck ran out. And she absolutely wasn’t going to push it by actively provoking these girls with her (soon-to-be-constant) presence.
So it’d be best to stay out of their way - out of harm’s way. At least until the emitting danger dissipated from her sixth sense.
Hearing nothing but the usual ambient noises, Rachel forced her mind to clear before refocusing on the task at hand. Hanging her duffel bag on the hook inside the stall, she unzipped the top and placed her hair dryer inside before staring at the set of clothing neatly folded within.
It was quite amazing what Sue Sylvester could accomplish to fulfill her wants and the wants of her Cheerios. But seriously, what kind of cheerleader needs at least five sets of basically the same uniform. The amount was preposterous really even if Sue argued that her Cheerios required a clean uniform for each of the school day in the week.
Rachel briefly wondered about the enormity of the Cheerios’ budgets - as opposed to Glee Club’s allotted minuscule spending - for Sue to so outrageously afford the required extra uniforms for each member in her squad.
Letting out a tired breath, Rachel moved to change out of her used uniform, wiping off any sweat along the way with a clean packed towel. She kept her actions meticulous, never wasting a move - years of preparing for life on a Broadway stage does that. But then again, being slushied every now and then did give her great practice as well.
She timed at five minutes. Well, a little over five but she can work on that.
Zipping up the back of her red skirt, Rachel straightened her posture and smoothed out any possible imperfections on the new Cheerio uniform she currently donned. Grabbing her duffel bag off the hook, she stepped out the stall and moved towards an available mirror by the sinks.
Perhaps by chance, at that exact moment, the door to the girls’ restroom opened causing Rachel to momentarily freeze in her tracks at the unexpected entrance. A flash of blonde hair only spiked her adrenaline levels, preparing herself for a fight-or-flight response.
“Did someone slushie you, Rachel?”
Hearing the concern in the voice, the newly dressed girl pushed away the small instance of terror and turned to face the identity of her intruder.
Brittany simply stood by the entryway, a slight frown marring the dancer’s usual cheerful nature.
Visibly relaxing, Rachel became relieved at the (other) blonde’s appearance, though she was somewhat curious to Brittany’s unusual deviating of typical high-spiritedness. A question of her own at the tip of her tongue, Rachel hesitated with her curious inquiry once she remembered the manners Dad and Daddy taught her.
“Oh,” the brunette muttered, mainly to herself, as the earlier question entered her mind. “No,” Rachel continued before looking down at herself and up. “I’m actually slushie-free (for once),” she finishes, though the latter two words were spoken more softly.
For a split second, Brittany’s frown seemed to have deepened before evaporating into a smile. “Good,” she answers before skipping over. The blonde didn’t hesitate to unexpectedly pull Rachel into a hug, startling the shorter girl once more with her touchy-feely acts. “But why were you changing in here then?” Brittany questions further as she peered down at the petite brunette currently wrapped up in her arms.
Having stiffened at the first touch, Rachel struggled with looking everywhere but straight forward; there was the delicate matter of a certain someone’s chest being right there. Her attempts proved feeble, however, as Brittany seemed quite content with firmly holding onto Rachel, ultimately preventing the brunette from repositioning herself.
With that rather prominent distraction, it was quite understandable that Rachel’s mind had spiraled into nothingness. Fortunately, after some time, the blonde’s second question finally registered within her mind and only another needed minute was required for her to formulate an answer.
Brittany, nonetheless, didn’t seem to mind the stretching silence.
“I,” Rachel starts before pausing to recollect herself, “I just feel more comfortable changing in here. I know that the other Cheerios haven’t really accepted me, only just tolerating me to - at the very least - avoid Sue’s wrath.”
The answer was a somber one but Brittany didn’t hesitate with her response to Rachel’s explanation. “I accept you,” she admits as she tightened the hug.
Rachel’s pulse only rose at the close proximity becoming even closer. And, although the brunette could feel her face heating up at the physical contact, she felt a certain amount of sadness creep into her heart from Brittany’s naiveté.
“I appreciate it Brittany,” Rachel manages to reply before slowly hugging the girl back. The diva briefly wondered whether her life would be as simple (and normal) as the dancer before her believed it to be.
Her thoughts are shaken when the hug suddenly ends and Brittany begins turning her around, facing her towards the sinks. “Let me help,” the girl spoke excitedly as she began fussing over Rachel’s hair. And with a quick fix, the diva’s transformation was completed with the custom ponytail trademark of all cheerleaders.
“Perfect,” Brittany exclaims before looping arms with the brunette and strolling off. Luckily, Rachel managed to grab her duffel bag off the floor - having fallen previous to the first hug - before they exited arm-in-arm.
The future starlet tried hard to keep up, both in strides and the conversation, as the blonde rambled off the randomn-est of discussions.
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Meanwhile, taking place in a nearby office, an argument was begging to erupt. And, as usual, Sue Sylvester and William Schuester were present; both stood at opposite sides of the room while Figgins sat at his desk.
“What is it this time?” Figgins questioned, effectively starting the dispute.
“She is deliberately trying to steal Rachel from the Glee Club!” Will proclaimed with an outstretched finger.
Sue straightened, pushing off the bookshelf Figgins kept in his office, before slowly approaching her curly-haired nemesis.
“First off,” Sue began before slapping the accusing finger away, “Don’t point fingers unless you’re willing to lose them.”
Will only narrowed his eyes in response.
“And second, I’m not surprised you would reference a girl as some property you can steal.” Sue turned to look at Figgins. “That’s sexism right there. I suggest you report him right away or I will.” Turning back to face Will, Sue crossed her arms before staring staunchly at her unworthy opponent. “Lastly, I don’t need to steal anything of yours, not that you own my new flyer.”
“Oh, your new flyer?” Will retorts with emphasizes on the word ‘your’.
Sue doesn’t hesitate with her response. “All my Cheerios sign a basic contact allowing me full command of their lives - within certain means, of course. So essentially, yes, I do own the Cheerios,” she stops momentarily to smile at her unrelenting nuisance, “Don’t worry William. This is only to ensure that the girls will be topnotch in their performances.”
“Contracts?” Will questions as his face scrunched up in slight disgust. Shaking his head, he continued on with his remarks. “You can’t be serious.”
“I’m always serious William,” Sue answers before straightening her tracksuit and strutting off towards the bookshelf she had left earlier. Picking up the folder resting on the cabinet top the bookshelves were situated on, Sue proceeded with pulling out two copies of papers neatly stapled. “And, to show you how serious I am, I brought you each a copy of Rachel Berry’s contract,” the woman proclaims as she produced said items.
Will was the first to grab the papers right away as Sue drops the other copy on top of Figgins’s desk. Skimming the first few pages, Will soon flipped to the end to see a bona fide signature of Rachel’s, complete with a gold star sticker, effectively sealing the agreement.
“I can’t believe it,” Will mutters.
Shaking himself out of the slight funk, Will continued in his protest. “Rachel would never voluntarily join the Cheerios. You must have coerced her somehow,” the man reasoned.
“Or maybe you just don’t know your students as well as you thought.”
Will didn’t let Sue’s retort - although it struck a chord - deter him. Turning towards Figgins, he tried addressing the situation to the supposed higher authority.
“Principal Figgins, you cannot let this farce continue on. It’s obvious that Sue,” once again he pointed an accusing finger, “Is only trying to monopolize Rachel’s time. Or, at the very least, demoralize the girl using the other Cheerios. Why else would she want Rachel on her team?”
Figgins only wordlessly shrugged - he had been busily reading Sue’s contract - not quite sure how to handle Will’s protests.
Off to the side, Sue only rolled her eyes; it seemed like SpongeHair SquareChin would never learn. Leaning against the bookshelf once more, and crossing her arms, the track-suited woman began her defending arguments.
“Tsk tsk William,” she starts. “You make it seem like the girl’s a one-trick pony.” Again Sue smiled that devious smile, the one where she obviously knew something that no one else did.
Will hated that smile.
“Did you know the little monkey actually has some skills that extend over to dance, gymnastics, and other aspects that make her a perfect candidate for being a Cheerio? If you don’t believe me, then maybe her plethora of awards and first place trophies would convince you.”
Will only looked shocked that Rachel was (or is) a gymnast. He knew the girl took dance - ballet, obviously - but Rachel always seemed so focused on singing and Broadway. Will never thought that Rachel would strive to excel in any other areas.
And so he could only stutter and fumble over his next choice of words. His attempts were proving to become rather pathetic - and deliciously fantastic Sue thought.
The Cheerios’ coach didn’t hesitate to take the reins of continuing what was starting to become a one-sided conversation.
“And if you’d bother reading the contract in full,” Sue unfolded her arms, “Then you’d see that an extra clause was made in regards to your precious Glee Club.” Pausing in her speech, the woman took out a small pair of reading glasses she kept in the pockets of her track suit. Sue blinked a couple of times for clarity before producing her own copy of Rachel’s contract from the folder she carried. Flipping to the near end, the woman began reading.
“No known attempts will be made to ensure any Cheerio activities within Miss Sylvester’s control would overlap with Glee Club’s scheduled activities.” Taking off her glasses, Sue faced Will once more. “I’d like you to notice the emphasis on the word ‘known’ William. I just can’t always have my Cheerios work according to your schedule. I need some leeway as well.”
“This doesn’t disprove the fact that you’re still planning something Sue,” Will argues.
“Squawk, squawk, squawk.” Sue gestures with one hand, motioning it in representation of Will’s attempted henpecking. “Try pestering someone else about your disillusionment of misgivings,” she continues before turning towards the other room’s quite silent occupant, “Figgins!”
“Actually Will,” the principal immediately jumps in, “Contracts are a good thing. See here, Sue also included this clause: ‘Any injuries, both physical and/or mental, sustained are of the recipient’s responsibility themselves. Miss Sylvester cannot be blamed for the Cheerio’s own mistakes.’ Now the school doesn’t need to worry about any lawsuits coming from the cheerleaders.”
Will only shook his head at Figgins’s entire focus surrounded on concerns for the school instead of a student’s current (and possibly dire) situation.
Sue only smirked as she put away her glasses and closed the folder in her hands. Satisfaction was a feeling that she’d always got used to easily. But feeling satisfied was never enough for Sue Sylvester; the woman needed to see her opponents crumble and burned for their audacity to butt heads with her.
Coincidentally, the appearance of a certain student just outside the principal’s office was exactly what Sue had in mind. Strolling across the office, Sue ignored what other spew Will was attempting to feed Figgins to take Rachel off the Cheerios.
“Just last week Sue had been turning a blind eye towards Rachel’s presence. And now she’s acknowledging the girl as her newest Cheerio? Doesn’t that seem odd to you?” Will complained, quite persistent in his cause.
Approaching the office doors, Sue turned to face the other two occupants of the room. “How about we just ask the girl in question, herself, how she feels about this?” And with swift movements, Sue had all the doors - both Figgins’s and Donna’s₃ - open and promptly called out to a nearby Cheerio.
“Berry! Come on in here for a moment,” the coach ordered.
Figgins and Will watched as Rachel - in all her Cheerio galore - spoke a few words with Brittany before approaching the principal’s office. Her eyebrows scrunched up slightly in confusion, obviously wondering about her requested presence. No matter, the girl didn’t hesitate in her steps; seemingly positive on her later deductions of the situation.
“What do you think about the Cheerios, Berry?” Sue asked, straight to the point.
Rachel was quiet for a split second in thought before answering. “They aren’t all quite what I’ve expected.”
“See! My Cheerios are getting along just fine,” Sue proclaims before shooing Rachel back out the office. The girl didn’t protest and quickly followed orders, rejoining Brittany who stood outside waiting.
“Rachel wai-” Will began, moving towards the door, only for Sue to cut him off both mid-sentence and in his path.
“William!” Sue admonishes in a slight reprimanding tone. Still blocking Will’s pathway to the door, Sue crosses her arms as she remained there. “The girl’s obviously trying to get to class. And, if I had to theorized, you’re the only person around that’s trying to monopolize Berry’s time.”
“Me?!” Will literally squawked in surprise as he backed up some. He should have known Sue was going to try to turn everything around on him.
Uncrossing her arms, Sue stood to her full height - the differences in stature between Sue and Will seemingly magnifying. The towering woman started her march forward, forcing Will to stumble back to avoid getting pushed over - or worse, trampled on.
“You can’t handle the fact what talent your little Glee Club has is deciding to do a little outside performing on the side,” Sue pauses to look at Figgins, “Personally, I say he’s just jealous that his little star might end up leaving his sorry pathetic a-”
“Sue! That’s enough!” Figgins immediately interjects before Sue could finish the sentence, otherwise known as an insult.
“And Will, unless you can legitimately show that Miss Sylvester here coerced Rachel into joining the Cheerios, you cannot be throwing wild accusations around,” Figgins concluded before the arguments could start all over again. He swears the two are like children when one another are involved, always bickering to no end.
Sue smiled that awful smile once again. “That’s right William. Just because you don’t have much of one doesn’t mean you can go off willy-nilly and try to ruin my reputation,” she explains before leaving the office.
“Out of my way!” she suddenly shouts before pushing some students off her taken path and into the walls.
“I can’t believe this,” Will remarks before exiting the office as well.
Figgins only hoped they didn’t darken his office with their presence again. Or, at least, any time soon. He then popped in two pills of Advil from the bottle he always kept in his drawer for situations like these.
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First period classes had only just ended and already Rachel found herself being confronted by Jacob Ben Israel while on her way to her next class.
“So Rachel, everyone wants to know what brought about the recent changes?” the bespectacled boy asked before pressing forward the digital tape recorder he recently brought.
Rachel only shoved the intruding object away from her face before turning a corner. “Leave me alone Jacob,” she demanded.
As usual, the boy proved persistent and continued on with his already aggravating interview of the recently made Cheerio. “And how exactly did you get Sue Sylvester to agree to bring you on as one of her Cheerios?”
The silence stretched unanimously as only the shuffling of passersby permeated the air. Again Jacob tried to get an answer with another question.
“Brittany seems to have taken an instant liking to you. Care to comment on that rather fast relationship between the two of you?” Jacob offered with the wagging of his eyebrows.
Rachel merely rolls her eyes at the obvious suggestion being made before continuing with her disregard of the hormonal pervert. Fortunately, a view of her next class appeared and the brunette was prompt to speed up her entrance into the room. Taking a seat, the brunette remained at the edge of the chair, ready to move should Jacob have followed her inside. Luckily, after an absence of afros and constant questioning, Rachel let herself relax slightly. Even though the hounding wouldn’t cease any time soon, Jacob - at the very least - couldn’t pester her during class time. Of course, after that thought, a shout was given and heard by all nearby.
“The truth will be known, Rachel!”
The sole Cheerio in the classroom could only groan.
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Chp 3b
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A/N: Continued in part B.
₁ Stacy’s the name of the girl whom Rachel replaced as a Cheerio.
₂ Not sure if Sue does actually take horse estrogen. Will does mentions it once as a rumor.
₃ Donna’s the name of Principal Figgins’s secretary.