Never asked to feel your halo (Faberry)

37: Just 'Cause I Said It.

Rachel was aware that every eye in the room was on her right now but she didn't acknowledge any of them. Her heart was breaking and they didn't know or care so they could kiss her behind.

Despite her best intentions she caught Mr.. Schuester's eye as he moved towards her and he managed to look both sympathetic and condemning.

"Rachel, maybe you should take a minute in my office."

"I'm fine right here," she said through gritted teeth. "Please just continue the lesson."

"I think the lesson should be about how you don't force your tongue down someone's . . ."

"Santana, that's enough!" Mr. Schuester snapped. "Rachel, I'm not asking, wait in my office."

She huffed but did as she told. As she went through the door she heard him say,

"The rest of you take your seats and stay in them until I get back. Anyone who doesn't will be out of the club and I'm not kidding about that."

The door closed behind her, cutting off any remarks her fellow Glee-clubber's might have made to his threat. She didn't want to hear them anyway. She sank into the chair opposite his desk and put her head in her hands.

How had everything gone from so right just a few hours ago to . . . this? She'd really thought Quinn liked her! She'd seemed so sincere and they'd gotten on so well last night and this morning. Had it really been a lie? Had Quinn really just been using her again?

Her turning up last night had been out of the blue, and Quinn had ended up sniffing her t-shirt. And again this morning Quinn had had her face buried in her neck pretty quickly. But it was more than that, surely? They'd talked and danced and today they'd even kissed, a little. Had Quinn really only done all of that because she wanted to keep stringing her along for her fabric softener? It felt inconceivable. And yet likely. Because in what known universe would Quinn Fabray have genuine feelings for Rachel Berry?

Of course it was true.

Unable to help herself, she started crying into her hands.

"Quinn, wait a minute!"

She groaned when she heard Mr.. Schuester call to her. She just wanted to get away and pretend none of that had happened! Why did he have to go and follow her? She experienced a split-second of anxiety about Rachel being left alone in the room with everyone else, but she shook it off. She was feeling guilty but she was also still angry, and sympathy for Berry – who if she'd just kept her freaking mouth shut could have avoided all of this – was hard to find right now.

She turned where the corridors met in a wide crossroad, tennis shoes squeaking against the linoleum and her right hand landing defensively on her hip. "What?"

He'd run after her and took a second to smooth down his tie as he steadily looked her in the eye. "I know you just want to go home right now, Quinn, but I think it might be a good idea if I schedule you an appointment with Miss Pillsbury. How does tomorrow sound? I think what happened with Rachel is something you need to talk about . . . with a professional."

"I'm not interested in talking about it."

"Clearly it is something you need to talk about or else you wouldn't have sent that text to your friends."

She rolled her eyes. "I didn't send that text, Mr.. Schue. Santana did. She stole my phone because she was mad at me for lying to her about something and . . . she's just messing with Rachel because that's what we do."

"Well, it was thoughtless of her to spread it around like that, but she did right by bringing it to my attention. I'll have a word with Rachel, make sure she's knows to respect your personal boundaries . . ."