Quinn stared dumbly at Rachel, utter bafflement written across her features.
"Excuse me?" she ground out. She clenched her teeth together, unconsciously counted to ten, and did her best to reign in the hormonal surge prompting her to stride across the room and shove her elbow into Rachel Berry's face. She'd had a bad enough day as it was, and the last thing she wanted to deal with was a self-important American Idol contestant yammering at her.
"Glinda and Elphaba," Rachel repeated. "You and I are like Glinda and Elphaba."
Hands on her hips, Quinn felt her pregnancy-driven anger subside slightly, giving way to an annoyingly persistent feeling of intrigue. She cocked her head to one side, continuing to stare at Rachel thoughtfully, as if surveying the question in her mind.
"I know you aren't saying that I'm the green one," she said after a long few seconds. Momentarily, she wished for her Cheerios uniform and cheerleading ponytail back, just for courage's sake; she missed the empowerment.
"Hardly," Rachel half-said, half-snorted. Quinn fought the urge to roll her eyes at the entirely unladlylike sound. "Your voice isn't remotely suited for Elphaba's part. You'd need years more training, and anyways, your voice has that same fragile quality to it that—"
"Hey, man-hands," Quinn interjected. "There's a difference between a character and the songs they sing." She gave in and rolled her eyes, crossing her arms across her chest. "I mean, have you even read the book? You're way more Glinda than I am, with all the primping and the chatter and complete obsession with appearances."
"You've read it?" Rachel said disbelievingly.
"Oh, don't even," Quinn snapped. "Just because I am—was a cheerleader." She winced momentarily, recovering so quickly that Rachel didn't even seem to notice, before continuing on. "Doesn't mean that I don't read. I'm third in our class. Way, way ahead of you, for the record."
"But you've read Wicked?" Rachel said excitedly. "That's just… wow. And when did you find the time?"
Quinn shrugged. "I like to read. It's relaxing. Good way to calm down after a long day."
"Oh, I know," Rachel said. "It's so relaxing. I love crawling into bed with a book and listening to a specific playlist of soothing music and reading until I fall asleep; it's the most wonderful—"
"See?" Quinn said. "That, right there, Glinda. Always talking."
Rachel crossed her arms. "You know, if I'm Glinda, that makes you Elphaba. And she's green."
"So not," Quinn retorted. "You're the only one going on about some personality parallel there. I'm only Elphaba if your analogy works, and it doesn't even come close."
"And why not?" Rachel said. Quinn felt a creeping sense of doom; she knew she should never have gotten into this conversation. Rachel never could seem to back down from a challenge. "We don't get along because of petty social rules at a petty school, we're polar opposite personalities but still good-hearted women at the core. Unusual circumstances have pushed us together socially. And our vocal styles even line up! You've got the same delicacy to your voice that Kristin Cheno—"
"You do realize that she went nuts at the end, right?" Quinn interrupted, desperate to shut her up. Her back was starting to ache from a long day of pretending she wasn't pregnant, and her feet were sore; she wanted nothing more than a bed to lie on and someone to rub the stiffness out of her muscles. The thought of going home to Finn's house was as unappetizing as staying at school and listening to Rachel Berry prattle on about Wicked.
"And even if you look at the musical, she was just a bitch. I mean, letting your best friend go on for the rest of her life thinking you and the man she loved are both dead because of her? What the hell kind of person does that?"
"She didn't have a choice!" Rachel protested. "And let's face it, it's not like Glinda was totally innocent, either."
"Glinda was a dumbass," Quinn said flippantly. "Most of the things she did weren't malicious or intentional, just kind of stupid. She wasn't exactly a Rhodes scholar. But Elphaba was supposed to be all kinds of brainy, and she still made ridiculous mistakes."
"Everyone makes mistakes," Rachel said. Quinn rolled her eyes.
"There are mistakes, and there are mistakes," she said with a tone of finality. "Choosing to break your best friend's heart and leaving her to live the rest of her life out alone? That's not something that real friends do."
"And I suppose you know all about that, don't you? What with the long line of friends you had lining up to jump in front of a slushie for you," Rachel said.
Both of them froze at her words. Rachel looked like she couldn't believe the thought had actually escaped her lips. Quinn felt a hollow pit expanding in her stomach, into her chest and up her throat. Neither spoke for a painfully long time.
"Rest assured, Berry," Quinn said finally. She laughed humorlessly. "If you were my best friend, I'd never break your heart like she broke Glinda's."
Moving slowly, one hand resting unconsciously on her stomach in a protective manner, Quinn hefted her bag and walked past Rachel to the door. Unconsciously, both of them shifted to the side, assuring spare inches of space between them as Quinn passed.