TurnTable

Baby Mama Drama

Challenge

Prelude

In her mind, she could push the situation under a slew of musical remembrances and pretend that it didn't happen, but she wasn't the querulous, procrastinating type of girl to do such a thing -and if she was honest with herself, she never expected to do this type of thing with him but what's done is done- and she certainly wouldn't turn into one. She faced every scenario head on whether it was gliding on High C or performing a passé.

She remembered asking Mercedes if she could borrow that Alicia Keys CD she was playing a few minutes before Glee ended. Perhaps a bit more gospel and contemporary for her tastes, but she couldn't help herself. This only held significance because of one particular song that held so much depth and truth to it. She lightly tapped the keys to the piano in the choir room and began to sing under her breath.

"Sometimes I feel
Like I don't belong anywhere
And it's gonna take so long
For me to get somewhere…"

"Sometimes I feel
So heavy hearted…
But I can't explain
'Cause I'm so guarded."

"But that's a lonely road to travel
And a heavy load to bare
And it's a long, long way to heaven
But I gotta get there…"

She could deal with this, even if she was blinking her glassy brown eyes over a toilet bowl, heaving chest and all. She could wipe off the vomit from her lips, dust off her precisely starched plaid skirt, and proceed out of the girl's bathroom seemingly unscathed but for how long. How long until the impending public humiliation? How long did she have as an upcoming starlet? She was already a statistic -a pregnant teen. How long before she had to face him? And what would she say? "Hello, I'm sorry to take time away from your day, but I just wanted to let you know that I am pregnant. And that it's yours. Please, you can proceed slushing me now."

How sad, how juvenile, and...

"How pathetic, Berry. I mean seriously."

She's back in that place where he's shaking his head at her, loosely holding a beer in his hands. She's out of her element and she wonders why she's even here in the first place.

Oh, right. He had made some asinine bet that he could still be considered a stud and have Rachel 'I'm a star' Berry as a date in supposedly normal high school surroundings. Or this is what she thinks. She really doesn't care the reason because she has ulterior motives for even being there.

This all began with an E! Entertainment biography marathon. She sat dutifully in front of her television, mentally taking notes. Each starlet, every possible actress, dancer, and singer all seemed to fall under the influence. A scandal would usually ensue afterward, and their careers: obliterated. Now, of course, she never planned on drinking, but she did have the idea that if she engaged in the act this early in her life, maybe she wouldn't do so later in life when she surely would be successful. Of course the idea truly cemented in her mind when Kurt readily reminded her that the occasionally sparkling wine on Sabbath was hardly counted as alcohol. No, she needed something strong, at least to imbibe her and get her over this mental hurdle. Since her fathers were only occasional drinkers, alcohol wasn't a staple in the Berry household so she would have to find somewhere that she could obtain it. And what was better than an unsupervised high school party?

"I'd like to consider it inspired, Noah." She said with a falsely cheerful smile. Inwardly, she was cringing at the place she put herself in and tried to stay as alert as possible with liquor running through her bloodstream. Just a couple of hours more, she decided. She would leave.

It was just a shame she didn't have the same thought in mind two hours later.

She was under him, in his arms as he murmured sweet nothings in her ear. That's all they were, she persuaded herself. Sweet nothings. She recalled the earlier conversation as she thoughtlessly divulged everything. Her goals, her feelings for Finn, her nonchalance about the constant bullying. Even how her day begun.

"A banana smoothie every morning for potassium and energy at 6 a.m. Then, from 6:10 to 6:45, five laps on my elliptical. By 8:30, I'm already in my first period, ready to take notes. By 1:30, I'm sitting in the cafeteria eating lunch. Afterward I go to my last period and on Thursdays and Tuesdays, Glee after school. Mondays and Wednesdays, I'm in the ballet studio at the Academy and Fridays are my acting lessons at the college."

When Puck raises his eyebrow, she babbles on, "Oh, I have to drive about an hour and a half to go there, since there are no colleges in Lima." As if she had to explain that. She's surprised at how easily the words come out, no slurs. She's aware of what she is saying and whom she is saying it to, and she can't help but smugly think that this is a slice of superstardom pie. How those impressionable starlets got themselves in such incidents was beyond her. She's giggling and Puck is rolling his eyes and that's when things become a little foggy.

"Is that all?" Puck inquired dryly, carrying her up to her room.

"Yes, maybe, possibly..." She's murmuring under her breathy laugh and reddening face. Holding her arms around his neck, she tightens her hold and buries her head in the crook of his neck, breathing in his earthy musk. She giggles some more and she can't help but note that this must be an effect of the alcohol. Somehow she manages to stop talking, especially since she knows that he simply can't be paying attention, and loses herself in his calming, manly musk as they ascend the stairs. The only sounds in the dark that could be heard were the shuffling of his feet in the dark house and their breathing. Her fathers had gone on their annual cruise and though Rachel had gone every year, she told them to go alone in hopes of this chance. The night had seemingly gone well, but as he opened her bedroom door, it was clear to her that the night wasn't over yet.

"Are..." She breathed, and then paused to try again when it sounded too slurred, too weak, too unlike her. She cleared her dry throat, "Are you leaving?"

He laid her down on her bedspread and grunted in affirmation.

"You don't...have to. You can stay. I mean, you've drunken a fair amount as I have and you shouldn't have to risk driving again in this weather." It began raining after the party and to more support her words, lightening lit the room for one moment, and the thunderous boom followed suit. "I-I know we're not friends, though I would like to be, but you seem to be a good listener, even if you weren't even listening and I appreciate that. I mean, I know that you don't like me when I speak so much, but it just seems like I can't stop talking around you because I think that you actually DO listen to me, and-"

Those were the last words she could say, before his lips crushed hers, silencing whatever she was about to say next. For some reason, she had the feeling she was treading dangerous territory, so, she could be grateful for him stopping her. On the other hand, once he started with her, nibbling her bottom lip, pressing his body on top of hers and fisting his hands in her silky brown hair, she couldn't stop.

She wished to God she stopped. But she didn't, and he didn't, thus her current predicament.

So as she wiped her vomit coated lips on the back of her hand, stood on wobbly legs, and washed her hands with sterilized foam, she doesn't really have to wonder how she got herself in the once almost impossible situation. She knows. And she's accepted it. The details may be sketchy, but one thing is not. It's been two months since her last period, and she's finding it harder to explain why she's so tired lately. Even Mr. Schuster has taken notice and told her to rest until next week's practice. And even though this didn't bode well with her, she didn't have a choice in the decision because whatever entity blossoming in her uterus wanted her to run -quickly- to the bathroom and throw up until her throat grew raw from the bile.

She grabs the door handle and opens the door with a flourish, still a bit woozy from her spell in the bathroom. What she doesn't expect is to see the formidable figure of Noah Puckerman, leaning casually against the row of lockers. She could feel her knees lock up upon sight and she swears she would've fallen over if not for her grip on the bathroom door. Her knuckles grow white as her grip tightens on the cold metal handle and her breath is caught at the back of her throat. Suddenly, she's afraid and trapped like a rat in a cage. This isn't Rachel Berry and in her mind, she reprimands herself. Stands up stock straight and squares her shoulders.

Looking into his dark olive eyes, there was only one logical thing to do:

Abortion.

First Glee fic. Gee, this turned out angstier than I thought. Dx Will be a multi-chapter since it wouldn't be right leaving it as a oneshot. Featured the song Prelude to a Kiss by Alicia Keys.

DAC