The Transfer: A Glee Fanfiction

Chapter 22

****Sorry it's been so long! Please forgive me!! School keeps me utterly drowning in work. So given the amount of time it's been since I uploaded Chapter 20, I'm gonna upload two chapters tonight. This one's pretty short, but I hope you like it anyway.

I live off your comments, so don't forget to tell me what you think!****

An hour later, Rachel's house was packed with the entirety of both her former and current glee club, as well as a handful of Warblers whom Kurt had dragged along. Some people were dancing (somewhat sloppily, due to the alcohol) in her living room to music that reverberated loudly through the house, and others were sitting around in groups, laughing and playing drinking games. Everyone was having a good time, except maybe Rachel, who was hiding in her kitchen, pretending to drink the vodka something or other Nicky had made her, and trying not to watch Finn in the other room as he mingled uncomfortably with some of the guys from Vocal Adrenaline.

Rachel sighed and slumped against the fridge door. She wanted nothing more than to be in her pajamas, asleep in bed. She glanced at the clock on the microwave. A little after ten. How long did these things usually last? Rachel was contemplating whether anyone would notice if she slipped upstairs to take a nap when she heard the doorbell. Nicky had her tongue down some guys throat in what looked like a game of spin the bottle, so Rachel reluctantly left her brooding position to answer the door.

Jesse stood on her porch, his hands stuffed casually in his pockets. He looked surprisingly boyish in jeans and a black zip-up hoodie over a white t-shirt, and for a ridiculous instant, Rachel felt overdressed. A dimpled grin spread on his face when he saw Rachel in the doorway. A moment passed in silence as he stood just outside her door.

"Well," she said, irritated. "Are you just gonna stand there or are you coming in?"

"Someone's cranky," he said as he stepped inside, the smile never leaving his face. She closed the door behind him.

"Yeah, well, if you had a bunch of practically-strangers grinding to ear-splitting music in your house, you'd be cranky, too." Rachel immediately resumed her position against the fridge, and he followed her.

"Not having fun at your own party?" He pouted his bottom lip, barely concealing a knowing smile. "Don't worry, I'll fix it."

"You can get these people out of my house?" she said, boredom laced in every word.

"No," he said, moving to the other side of the room. "But I can mix you a drink to take the edge off."

"Nicky already tried," Rachel said as she set her untouched red solo cup on the counter next to him. "Everything she made tasted like poison."

"Of course it did," he said, unsurprised. "She doesn't know what you would like."

"And you do?" Rachel raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. "That's rather presumptuous, don't you think?"

All she got in response was a confident smirk as he went to work. He poured the contents of several bottles Rachel didn't recognize into a cup over some ice and orange juice. He swirled the cup around to mix the ingredients before handing it to her.

"Apparently, all it takes is a semester at college to turn you into a professional mixologist," Rachel said as she hesitantly took the cup from him and sniffed the drink. It didn't smell like poison, at least.

Jesse rolled his eyes. "My uncle owns a bar in Akron. He taught me a few tricks."

"He taught a nineteen-year-old how to mix drinks? Sounds responsible." Rachel was reluctant to drink whatever it was he had made. She could hear her parents lecturing her about underaged drinking in the back of her mind, and she didn't like the thought of disappointing them. But she also wanted to relax and enjoy the party she was throwing, just like any other seventeen-year-old would. She took an uncertain sip, and was surprised to find that it was actually good.

"What is this?" She asked, taking another small sip.

"It's like Sex on the Beach, but a little sweeter," he said, and Rachel hoped the dimmed lighting concealed the blush that came to her cheeks. "I figured you'd like a drink where you can't actually taste the alcohol."

"Mmhmm," was all she replied, her lips returning the cup as she tried to ignore Jesse's triumphant smile. God, could he cool it with the smiling? It was getting on her nerves.

Rachel felt a new warmth coursing through her veins, making her relax a bit.

"How was your date?" Jesse asked, trying too hard to sound casual, and Rachel could tell it'd been on his mind since he arrived.

"Oh, just peachy," she said sarcastically. "At least I got a free plate of spaghetti out of the deal."

He chuckled. "That bad?"

Rachel held up her right hand to show off the bruises that were beginning to blossom on her knuckles. Immediately, his eyes widened and he reached out to examine the injury.

"What the hell happened?"

"I punched him!" Rachel said, full of pride. "In the face! And it felt amazing! I never thought I would enjoy hitting somebody, but it was so exhilarating, I-"

"Alright there, Rocky, take it down a notch," he said, cradling her bruised hand delicately in both of his. "Why did you hit him?"

"Because I wanted to," she replied. He raised an eyebrow at her. "Look, it's none of your business. Now can you let go of my hand and tell me I'm a badass?"

He smiled, gently letting go of her hand. "You're a badass."

"Thank you, thank you" she said, laughing as she pretended to curtsy to an audience. Suddenly, she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Hey Rach," Finn said as she immediately straightened up, craning her neck to look at him. He was smiling, but she could see the thinly veiled hostility in his eyes when he glanced at Jesse. His voice was sharp and unforgiving when he greeted the other boy. "Jesse."

"Finn," he replied, with an equal amount of ice in his voice. His eyes looked over Finn condescendingly, and though he was a good five inches shorter than him, Jesse looked at Finn like he was a little boy throwing a fit. "Long time, no see."

"Really? 'Cause I think it hasn't been long enough."

"Anyway," Rachel quickly interrupted before things got ugly. "This has been fun, but I think I hear Kurt calling my name, so I'm gonna..." She tried to escape, but Jesse stopped her.

"No, don't go," he said to her, but his eyes never broke from the angry, testosterone-fueled staring contest he was having with Finn. "I think we can all be civil here, don't you, Finn?"

"Sure," Finn replied with faux-sweetness. "I think we can all be great friends."

Rachel's face burned with embarrassment, and all she wanted was for the floor to open up and swallow her. Well, that, and a refill. She gave the empty cup to Jesse with an expectant look, and he smirked smugly before mixing her another drink. Finn's jaw tightened, and he gave Rachel a disappointed look, which pissed her off a bit. But before she could call him out, he spoke in a falsely cheery tone. "Rach, everyone's been looking for you. You should come out and say hi."

I doubt that, she thought. Still, she felt like a bad host, hiding away in the kitchen. She didn't even know half of her guests. She took the cup from Jesse and looked up at Finn. "Lead the way."