The Gleeful Return [Q. F.]

- 15 - Identity

Recap: After Sam sang "Lucky," Quinn cried in the bathroom with an unknown person comforting her. News spreads that Quinn and Sam broke up, and Juliet knows that she is back with Finn. Mr. Schuester introduces the theme for Regionals and mentions original songs. Rachel proposes that the Glee Club has a group hang out at her house. Everyone is looking for inspiration to write their own song. Juliet has her state gymnastics meet the day after Rachel's party. 

"When you get to school, go straight to Ms. Pillsbury's office."

"Fine, Mom."

"Have a good day!"

I scoffed. "I'll try."

Following my mom's orders, I went straight to the counseling office, but I wasn't expecting to see what I saw. "Quinn? What are you doing here?"

"Me? I should be asking you the same question."

"Girls, calm down. You're both supposed to be here," Ms. Pillsbury said.

"What?"

"Why?"

"Juliet, you need some assistance now, yes?"

"Uh, I, um..."

"Your Mom said you'll need help with your bags and books." I rolled my eyes.

"Why am I here?" Quinn asked.

"Oh, yes. Quinn, you'll be helping Juliet."

I went about my day as normal as I could until Glee rehearsal came around. Mr. Schuester gave me a smile as I walked through the door, but it wasn't enough to drown out the "what happened?" chorus.

I sighed knowing that it couldn't be avoided. "So, I had my gymnastics state meet on Saturday." Everyone nodded. They already knew that. "Um... when I was on bars, my grips snapped and I fell off the high bar." Eyes widened and I heard some gasps. "I was doing my giants, getting ready for my dismount when my hand just, snap! right off the bar and I landed on my leg with a pop." I frowned at the sound effects. "I tore my ACL."

"Oh my God."

"Are you okay?"

"How long will you be out?"

"Okay, okay. Yes, I'm fine. Well, as fine as I can be. ACL tears hurt a lot. I will have reconstruction surgery in a couple weeks and then I'll be out for the rest of the year. Actually, I'll probably be out for a year. ACL reconstructions take a lot of rest and recovery to get back to your previous level of activity. I won't be competing at Regionals, and if we make it to Nationals, which I hope we do, I won't be competing there either."

"Let's not dwell on this, right, Juliet?" I nodded. I didn't want any extra attention from this.

"But this is a huge setback!"

Mr. Schue started to reply, but I cut him off. "I appreciate that, Evan, but you all will be fine without me. It's not like I won't be there, I just won't be performing. We should get to work. We have a set list to finalize."

---

I was stuffing my belongings into my cheer bag when Santana came up to me. "Can I talk to you?"

"Of course. What's up?"

"Um, can we find a more private place?"

I wasn't expecting her to say that. "Yeah. Let's go outside by the bleachers." I left my bag on the bench and walked next to Santana as we made our way to the top of the bleachers.

"It really is a different view from up here."

I nodded. "Uh huh."

"Um," Santana started. "Is Brittany still dating Artie?"

"Yeah, I haven't heard anything different. Why?"

"I was just wondering."

"Why don't you ask her yourself?" Santana chewed her bottom lip. "You won't get the real answer unless you just ask her."

"I'm scared."

"Of what?"

"Being me." I cocked my head slightly but didn't say anything. Santana shook her head. "I don't know who I am."

"You're Santana Lopez from Lima Heights, a kickass cheerleader and Glee diva."

She shook her head again. "That's not me." I watched her chest rise as she took a deep breath. "I like Brittany. Like, like like her."

"Is that a problem?" I asked quietly.

"I don't want to be different."

"Oh, Santana. Everyone is unique in their own way. And that doesn't make you any different from the person you were a minute ago."

"That doesn't bother you?"

"No. Should it?"

"I don't know. I just figured since you're..."

"Christian?" She nodded. "And my dad?" She nodded again. "That's just my dad, the same dad that kicked me out of the house a year ago." I paused. "How long have you known?"

"About Brittany? God, forever? What does that make me?"

"I can't answer that, Santana."

"But I don't know the answer."

"Do you need to know? I mean, you like Brittany, right?" She nodded. "Then I think that's all the answer you need."

"But what does that make me?" she repeated. "Am I gay?"

"Does a label really matter? I don't think it's important what gender you're attracted to if you already love someone."

"Someone who's already dating someone else."

I sighed. "You should talk to her."

"I'm scared."

"I have your back, Santana. I'm always here for you."

---

"Has anyone come up with a good original song for Regionals?" Since I wouldn't have the chance to sing my potential song, I scanned the room instead of answering. There were headshakes but no nods. "We have the rest of this week and next week to get this set in stone and start rehearsing. We already have 'Don't Stop Believin'' mostly done since we already had that planned. We just need to revise it for this year's team and run through it again. If someone can come up with a good original song that could do well at Regionals, I'd like the other original to be a group composition."

"I have some ideas."

"Great, Rachel. Let's have everyone get together and really get to work on this. I want our two songs by the end of the week."

Considering it was already Tuesday, that seemed like a big ask. We had three days to work. Most of the team was quiet, but that was to be expected. But there were also people I figured would have been very vocal with their ideas, Mercedes, Santana, Finn, and Rachel, were unusually quiet.

"What's the point of us trying anyway?" Tina asked. "Everyone in this school thinks we're all losers. Winning Regionals won't change that."

Rachel stood up. "Wait," she started. "We're losers, right?" We stared blankly at her. "We're losers in a lot of people's eyes, so let's write about that."

"That doesn't sound like fun," Evan replied.

"Let's own up to it, you know? This is who we are. It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks of us because that won't change us."

"No, she's right," I chirped up. "We're supposed to sing anthems. We could write an anthem along those lines."

Mercedes agreed. "Okay, so where do we start?"

"Whenever I'm slushied, they always call me a loser," Rachel said sadly.

I twirled the thought around in my head. "A loser like me," I whispered. I repeated it again with enough volume for everyone to hear, "a loser like me."