Chapter Four – I Am Not a Robot

I would have been lying if I'd said the rest of my day wasn't all that great. I was fully aware that there were some things to be happy about and life wasn't always out to get me. It wasn't like there was a string of unfortunate events following what had happened between Jesse and me in the hallway. After he'd left, Mr Mickens informed us that we would be watching a video in English, which was always a good chance to catch up the sleep I normally lacked. Afterwards, I'd found out that I'd gotten A's in both my US History and AP Math tests, and Mr Cohen, our Geography teacher, was out sick. I managed to eat lunch outside under the sun on the bleachers by the sports track, and hence went unnoticed by the majority of the student body that loved to taunt me so ("Are you trying to gain more weight?" Cue condescending laughter). These things added up would have made a relatively good day in the life of a reformed, pregnant Quinn Fabray but in reality, today, I just had a sick feeling in my gut throughout, disabling me from enjoying these little motions. There was the imminent dread that washed over me the closer it got to my final activity for the day – Glee. Too many things went wrong with that group, and I was feeling the brunt of it.

Mr Schuester must have been getting plenty of heat over the Glist because instead of normal Glee Club today, he lined us all up outside his office for "questioning" – in his words. He was dramatising everything to scare us of course, but it was clear that he was anything but fooling around. I could see the dark circles under his eyes, and his hair was messier than usual – like he had been running his fingers through the strands several times in frustration. He, in all honesty, appeared scarier than ever, without the added drama. I wasn't a complete idiot though – it was pretty obvious that the Glist wasn't the only thing on his mind. Nevertheless, it was the most pressing issue at hand, which made all the difference I guess. Maybe he felt it was easiest to solve too.

One by one, Glee Clubbers entered Mr Schue's office, starting with Mercedes. When she emerged, she appeared crankier than she normally did, although the same could not be said for everyone. Tina came out close to tears and Artie looked flabbergasted as he wheeled himself away. The boys generally had more subdued reactions than the girls (for instance, Santana looked about ready to rip someone's throat out as opposed to Mike Chang's cool composure). The number of kids waiting diminished slowly as each of them trickled out after being questioned. Soon I was left with Rachel and Jesse and I didn't think I could have been any tenser. My muscles bunched up as I fought to sit still and calmly, all the while enduring Jesse's ignorance of me, and Rachel's dagger-sharp glares. The silence the three of us shared was the worst of it all.

"Jesse," Mr Schuester finally called from inside his office as Puck trudged out. "How many people are out there?"

"Three," Jesse responded monotonously. Anybody who'd even heard of Jesse St. James would know that nothing merited a dull response with him. There was always something to be cheerful about, something to brag about. So they'd automatically figure that a bored Jesse was an upset Jesse. I felt my chest tighten uncomfortably and looked away.

I could hear Mr Schue's sigh of relief that his work was almost done. "All right, come on in now." The door clicked shut a few seconds later.

Great, now I was left alone with Barbra Streisand. If the world turned my way, Rachel's mouth would've been sewn shut.

"What were you doing talking to Jesse?" she wanted to know.

Nobody had it that good.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know people weren't allowed to even make contact with your property," I sneered, rolling my eyes, not even bothering to glance her way. Truth be told, my intuition was telling me that if I looked at anybody directly at this point, I would give myself away. My guilt over the situation had reached the precipice and very soon, I would fall over.

"Very funny, Quinn, but you know what I mean!" Rachel snapped, prodding me hard in the arm. I winced more from the hurt in her voice than any physical contact. "We may be fighting at the moment, but Jesse is still my boyfriend."

"So he is. What does this have to do with me?" I demanded, glaring at her. I was pleased to see her falter slightly under my gaze. At least I hadn't lost it completely.

"I don't trust you," Rachel huffed. "You're angry with me because everything you've ever had was stripped from you, admittedly because of me – but whatever I revealed was only the truth! Of course, it wouldn't stop you from trying to ruin my life and what better way to do it than go after my boyfriend!"

"God, don't you ever shut up?" I replied in a snarky tone. "I do not have to explain myself to you of all people, RuPaul. I can't believe you even have the guts to talk about what you've stolen from me with such relish. I don't expect you to feel sorry for me, but get off my back. I'm not doing anything wrong."

"You-"

Just then, Mr Schue's office door cracked open a few inches. Jesse's head popped out from the crevice.

"Your turn, Quinn."

The thing was, Jesse didn't leave the room once I'd stepped in. He simply closed the door behind me and returned to his seat. Mr Schue had clearly perched himself away from the light, hiding his expression. There was an empty chair next to Jesse's and I settled myself cautiously into it. The room itself was darkened, with the blinds drawn shut a la Buffy – letting only slits of light into the room – and only a low-lit table lamp was switched on. It cast elongated shadows over the walls which would have been creepy if they weren't sort of cheesy. But it was apparent that Mr Schue wanted to prove a point so I kept quiet. He wouldn't be in the mood for such quips anyway.

"That's not fair," I spoke up. I had to keep my cool in order to keep from spilling the beans on myself. I had to turn on my defence mechanism – my ability to gripe about anything and everything.

"What isn't?" Mr Schue murmured from his corner.

"Why's he here with me?" I asked. "I don't recall the others getting the same treatment."

"So now you're saying it's unfair to you? Or to them?"

"What?" I was confused now. "You lost me. Mr Schue, you're not making any sense-"

"While we're on the issue of fairness," he cut me off, "do you think it was fair that you made that Glist?"

"I don't believe this!" I exclaimed. "You're not even asking me questions, you're just accusing me!"

"You're right, I'm not bothering to hear your end of the story," Mr Schuester rounded on me, appearing from the shadows. He looked angry. Two could play that game. I made sure I looked the most defiant I could.

"You're wrong about this."

"Why'd you do it, Quinn?" he asked in a low voice. He wasn't going to let me go without a fight. That was plain as day.

"I can't believe you're going to pin this on me," I muttered, shaking my head. "I didn't do it!"

"You know, I've heard all those other kids sing that same song and let me tell you, I'm tired of it," Mr Schue retorted.

"You're basically saying you're going to implicate me just because you're exhausted from all the questioning!" I cried. "That's hardly any grounds to-"

"I wasn't finished," Mr Schue interrupted. "Quinn, I have to say I hadn't suspected any of your fellow Glee Clubbers previously. I was just pulling up all the stops with this questioning routine – making sure that if it really was one of them that they wouldn't get away with it. But I haven't been able to pin motive on them just yet. You, on the other hand, I've realised have any reason to make such a list."

"Solid theory, if it had any substance backing it up," I said.

"It does," Mr Schue laughed humourlessly. "It makes perfect sense. Jesse even contributed his own theories."

My head whipped around to stare at Jesse. He wasn't look up at all, just at his hands.

"As if he knows anything!" I exclaimed, turning back to stare at Mr Schue. "It could have been Santana or Puck who made that list! They fit the profile to a T. Go after them! I mean sure, attack the pregnant cheerleader. That's the way to go since I've already messed up other aspects of my life, right?"

"You leave me no choice, Quinn. I wouldn't even attack you in the first place if I didn't have ammunition. What would Santana's or Puck's motive be, considering they put you at the top of the Glist?" Mr Schue challenged. "If in some way, shape or form they decided to boost their own statuses and reputations through this list, wouldn't they put themselves at number one?"

"They're probably clever enough not to because they knew the school would try to put the blame on the person who put themselves first! It's common sense!" I replied angrily. Yes, I was degrading myself. Big deal. It could work here.

I could feel tears well up in my eyes but hell would freeze over before they would fall in this room under these circumstances.

"That isn't the principle of it. If either of them had written the list, they would've done it earlier. This all seems too abrupt," Jesse finally opened his mouth and spoke up, turning his gaze from the floor tiles to me. "Someone would have to be really desperate to make this list for a quick boost up the popularity ladder. It's a poor way to do it, but it works, I have to admit. They must have been feeling pretty down and out over recent occurrences."

"Jesse makes a decent point there, and I put two and two together when I'd had to walk in your shoes this week, Quinn," Mr Schue added, slightly less critically as he remembered the problems he'd been facing himself. "To have your good streak stripped from you by a single bad decision that you only realise in hindsight when what you once had is gone. That's enough fuel to make something as demeaning as the Glist."

I couldn't believe it. Mr Schue had said it all. It was like he had been inside my head, interpreting all my thoughts from way back when, since I'd gotten knocked up. I had the right mind to go against him some more, be difficult and push everything away yet again – maybe even towards Rachel – but I understood that he would never buy it. If he could understand my predicament this well, he already had all the answers. I should just shut up and face the music.

"I- I never meant to hurt anybody," I confessed. "Not you, nor other members of the club. I really didn't think it was that big a deal. I just wanted some kind of reputation back. That's all."

I hated how vulnerable I sounded at that moment. My voice was crackling and thickening as I fought the urge to sob my heart out. Hell was having a pretty cold day.

"I know, Quinn," Mr Schue said softly, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. I felt a bit better with the warmth. "High school may seem like the world right now, but eventually you're going to start a new life after it. After the baby's adopted. There's so much more to look forward to."

Jesse was still abnormally quiet, although he'd stretched an arm out towards me with that dratted handkerchief, nudging me with it. I wasn't so reluctant to accept his kindness this time around.

Suddenly, there came a quick rap on the door and before we knew it, Principal Figgins was standing in the doorway. I hastily dabbed at my eyes, hoping I didn't look as wrecked as I was feeling.

"Schue, time's up!" Figgins announced. "Have you caught the creator of the Glist, or haven't you?"

"Uh, why don't you guys take off?" Mr Schuester suggested to Jesse and me. "Let Principal Figgins and I have a little privacy to discuss things."

"Sure," Jesse nodded. "See you tomorrow, Mr Schuester."

"See you," I squeaked as I was literally pushed out the door.

"What happened?" Rachel demanded as we stepped out. "You guys were in there an really long time-"

"You can leave," I snapped, not really crazy about speaking to her. "Mr Schue's done for the day."

Rachel looked concerned for me for a split second, although I simply didn't stick around to assess that. I had to get out of there. I stalked past her without a word, praying silently that I could be left alone the rest of the day. At least now I could go home, even though I was left dangling about what my fate was like at McKinley. If Mr Schue told on me, I would be expelled for sure.

Just considering that possibility brought me close to tears again and I stopped at the end of the hallway, leaning against a row of lockers and squeezing my eyes shut. I wished for nothing more than to dissolve into the cold metal behind me. My legs felt like jelly and I slowly sunk onto the linoleum floor. I had to suppress my desire to vomit and I pressed Jesse's handkerchief against my eyes. I hadn't realised I didn't give it back. It had been a really long time since I had cried this badly. It wasn't merely a few sobs and a sniffle here and there – it was full-on, sob-wracked body with the uncontrollable wailing. As soon as I tried to contain it I felt nauseous and it was simply better to let it all out. Thank God nobody was around to witness it. Or so I thought.

His arms were around me before I could protest. His hand rubbed my back and it felt too nice to be embraced like that – I hadn't really hugged a person in a long time too – so I didn't bother fighting. It wasn't as if I had the energy to at this point anyway. I could do nothing else but sit there and cry my heart out into his fleece shirt.

Jesse stayed with me until all my crying had dwindled to soft hiccoughs. By then I'd sat upright and wiped my smeared mascara from my cheeks, although he kept his hand on my back consistently. Despite this veil of niceties, there was still a burning question. I turned to look at Jesse only to find him staring right back expectantly. He knew what I was going to ask.

"How did you know it was me?"

"It's simple," he replied. "I would've done the same thing."

A/N: Hello! Firstly, I'd like to apologise for keeping all of you waiting - I only recently discovered I don't have my St. Fabray documents on my laptop (they're all on my PC in a whole other country...) and I had to rewrite this chapter from memory. It's not as good as how I had it initially, I feel, but I got some more dialogue I think! Do tell me how you found it :)

Another thing is that updates are bound to be a lot slower now that school has started, and I basically have to work from scratch + bits of memory, so I ask that you all be a bit more patient in between chapters. I'll try not to let you all down, but it's hard to estimate for the moment! Thank you all for all the story alerts, and all the lovely reviews, even - God forbid - favouriting this! :) It's all so appreciated.