AN: First and forthmost this will have nothing in common with the Disney classic "Beauty and the Beast" at all. Second, I'll be mostly focusing my attention on "Puppy Love" so don't expect frequent updates. Third, this is just something I started writing during a bit of writer's block a while back and decided to put some more work into it. Fourth it's it second person POV. Fifth it's going to be interactive (for more information read the bottom AN) and Sixth my 'Q' key is kinda stuck so if anything is missing a 'Q' I apologize and I'll fix it when I can.


Chapter 1

It's the second week of school and you're running late. Late! You can't be late cause you love school (well aside from the people there, yeah you love school) but as it stands you, Lucy Quinn Fabray are going to be late. Well nowadays you just go by Quinn, but that doesn't seem to matter much. Most people at school refer to you as prude, Jesus Freak, or your personal favorite Celibate Queen; it's not as insulting as the others as you are the president of the Celibacy Club and frankly you find no reason to ashamed of the fact that you're still a virgin.

You take pride in the fact that you're not as loose as some of your classmates and you're kinda saving yourself for that special someone. And no, that's not just some excuse you use to explain why you've never been on a date before. There's a reason for that… besides the fact that no one has ever asked you out. Cause well… you've already kind of found that special someone.

But you can't dwell on that now because you're late. You enter the school to find the halls emptying out. You'd like to think that you're safe, but experience tells you that the popular kids like to wait until the last minute to go to class. They could be lurking just around the corner so you get to your locker as soon as you can.

Once there, you shuffle through your locker, occasionally looking left or right to check if the coast is clear. You grab the books for your next three classes; it's best not to make frequent trips to your locker, and a few other books to read once you finish your work. It's quite heavy for someone with your slim frame, but you've carried about the same weight daily during your freshman year so your arms have grown accustomed to the load.

You smile happily when you're done and close your locker. You look to have a clear path to your next class, but you've never proved to be that lucky. Halfway through your first step you already feel the leg trying to trip you. You try to pull back, but it's already too late. You let out a shriek as you come crashing down to the floor, your books scattering throughout the hall, and your glasses falling off your face.

"Stop picking on her Santana!" you hear someone call from behind you. Your spirits lift, hearing someone defend you, but right now you have other things to worry about.

You get to your her knees and quickly scramble to retrieve your books before some reckless student steps on them. You reach out for your copy of Mockingjay and your pale hand bumps into a tan one. You pull back in shock, which allows the other person to get your book. She hands it to you, along with a few of your other belongings.

You shift to turn towards your mystery savior. You're smiling fondly, your hazel eyes glued downward. The girl sitting on the floor across from you has very nice legs, and a… Cheerios skirt? You know that your vision is bad, but it's good enough so you identify that red pleated skirt even without your glasses. Your livelihood does depend on being able to notice that thing from a mile away.

Curiosity piqued, you bring your head up as you take back your things. You blink a few times when you finally see her face. Your eyes must be deceiving you, either that or your vision is worse than you thought. But it all fits; the brown hair, the chocolate colored eyes, the tan skin, the slightly large but still adorable nose.

Rachel Berry.

Head Cheerio Rachel Berry, most popular girl in school. McKinley High's most prized possession. Actually screw that, Rachel Berry is Lima's most prized possession, maybe even Ohio's. And of course the girl that you've had a crush on since the beginning of freshman year. That Rachel Berry is helping you pick up your books. You feel lightheaded as you mutter out a soft "Thanks," and hug your books close to your chest; for fear that your heart would leap out otherwise.

You feel butterflies in your stomach, and your legs have grown weak. You're thankful that you're already on the ground; else your body would have definitely given out. And the last thing you need is to give Santana Lopez more ammunition against you. Luckily the Latina is long gone, and so she couldn't possibly see the blush that you are certain is showing on your cheeks.

You're about to get up when you remember that something's missing. Rachel must have sensed your panic as she reaches for your shoulder before you can freak out. You can feel your heart trying to break out of your ribcage. "I've got them," she says as she extends her other hand which holds your glasses. You make to retrieve them, but the brunette is already unfolding them and placing them back on your face. "There."

"Thanks, Rachel." Your voice is a bit louder than before, but still barely audible. The brown eyed girl probably wouldn't have even heard you if the halls weren't so empty. It's then that you realize that you're probably late or soon to be late, but the giddiness that you feel right now overrides the fear of ruining your perfect attendance record.

"No problem. And I'm sorry about that, um…"

"Quinn," you remind her.

"I'm sorry about that, Quinn. Santana's not like that all the time; she's actually really nice when you get to know her." You have to fight the urge to roll your eyes. If you weren't a good Christian you'd gladly refer to Santana as Satan. You nod your head silently instead. It's the best alternative to saying mean things about Rachel's best friend. "I'll tell her to stop picking on you." Your heart swells, your smile widens, but you don't say a word. "Okay," Rachel breaks the awkward silence. "I should get to class, bye."

You watch as the brunette skips off, the pleats of her skirt flying about, giving you a good look at her spanks. You have the decency to blush as you stare at her ass. You're still there on the floor, staring off dreamily down the hall until Rachel rounds a corner. The brunette would have English next which was also… Damnit, that's your next class too.

You groan as you get up, darting off in the same direction as the Head Cheerio. Maybe if you run fast enough you'd be able to catch up with her. But with the extra weight you have to carry, you have no such luck. You arrive just before the tardy bell rings. At least your attendance record is still intact.

You go to take your seat, which ironically is right behind the brunette cheerleader. Rachel looks surprised upon seeing you, but also lights up with a beaming smile. You try to smile back but before you do Santana smacks Rachel on the arm, drawing her attention away. The raven haired girl shakes her head disapprovingly at her actions. The pint sized cheerleader huffs in annoyance, but does ignore your existence for the remainder of class.

Your mood should be dampened, but you're still on a Rachel Berry high. When you sit down you have an almost laughable smile on your face. In fact, you're certain that if Santana chose to turn around right now that she would in fact laugh at you. But you've learned by now that you're mostly clear from the Cheerios' torment during class.

Absentmindedly, your pen starts jotting something on your notebook. You prop your arm on the table to support you head, which is now tilted to the side as you stare lovingly at the back of Rachel's head. You should be concerned that someone will notice that lovey-dovey look on your face, but you aren't. No one ever notices you; a perk to being invisible.

Mr. Hendricks places a book on your desk, knocking you out of your daze, if only momentarily. You look down at it, or past it. Only now do you see the multitude of hearts that you had doodled with 'Q+R' in the middle of some. You're somewhat pleased that your penmanship is perfect despite not having paid any attention to your hand, but at the same time horrified.

The lack of a last initial would make things easier on you if someone saw. But the first person that you can think of whose name starts with an R is Rick. And Rick is… Rick's a douche, and not at all attractive. Even if you were straight you wouldn't even dream of liking the hockey player. At that thought you decide that it would better if someone instantly thought that the R meant Rachel. That way it would at least show that you had taste and dreamt high. Much like Rachel, you think.

You then bring your attention to the book on your table. As expected, it's something that you've already read. It's sometimes annoying to be ahead of the class. You open it and pretend to read. You know it well enough to do ace any potential projects or tests that you might be given. And if need be you could easily reread it in a day or two.

You flip your notebook to a clean page and pretend to take notes. Sure no one ever takes notes on a book, unless they're told to. And you surely don't; it breaks the experience. But no one will question it. Really you're just trying to distract yourself from the gorgeous brunette sitting in front of you.

The bell rings before you're even aware that the class is over, and when you get up you find that you have a spring in your step. You haven't felt this good in you don't know how long, and nothing can bring you down. Not even when Dave and his stupid jock friends start throwing things at back of your head during second period or when a group of Cheerios loudly gossip about you during third. None of them seem to notice that you're currently invulnerable to their antics as they continue to tease and bully at you.

During the first half of school you're invincible, that is until Finn Hudson snatches your stuffed lamb, 'Lamby' (you were a four when you named her) out of your backpack and darts out of fourth period. You chase after him, not wanting Lamby to get hurt. You know that it's childish to carry around a stuffed animal at school, but she's been your longest friend and you can't go a day without her.

In the hall you see him holding her high above his head. You panic. You jump up frantically, trying to reach her all the while screaming, "Hey! Give her back!" People start to laugh, but you don't care. You need your lamb back. But it's useless. Finn's a giant and you'll never be able to get her back from him so long as he holds his arm straight up.

You try again, and just barely graze one of her legs with your fingers. It's obvious that you can't reach her so you stop jumping and resort to begging instead. "Please just give her back," you plead. Finn lowers his hand, presently Lamby to you and you foolishly think that he's just going to give her back. You reach out, but her pulls her back and tosses her over you.

Your heart stops; Finn may be the quarterback but his aim sucks. You turn around, fully expecting Lamby to be damaged but instead find that Finn had made a successful pass to Azimio. You go after him, but he tosses to Dave and then back to Finn. The three boys are making you run back and forth between them, and you're helpless to do anything.

You know that they'll grow tired of this game before long, but for some reason you feel that they'll refuse to give her back. Instead you can't help but think that they'll tear her apart just to see you cry. Tears start forming in your eyes at the mere thought, but before they can spill you hear a familiar voice ringing through the hall.

"Hey! Leave her alone!"

The boys stop abruptly, with Lamby being loosely held by Finn. You take the opportunity to take her back from his grasp and hug her close to your chest. The students part as Rachel approaches. Finn looks terrified and while you can't see them, you're sure that Dave and Azimio have similar looks on their faces. Normally you'd find it funny how someone as small as Rachel can exhibit such fear in people twice or even three times her size, but right now you're on the brink of tears.

She yells at them, and you cower away slowly. You've never seen Rachel yell before. It's so unlike her. She's kind and sweet and always gentle. The idea that this side comes out of her because she's defending you kind of makes you fall in love with her just a little bit more. But it scares you a bit too.

The football players, as well as the others who had just stood by and watched, bow their heads in shame. You know better. None of them feel shame for what they did to you; they just feel bad that they got caught and scolded at.

You're still standing there when they leave with your back pressed against a locker while you gently stroke the little stuffed lamb in your arms. She's unharmed despite what she's been through so you're glad. But you're crying and Rachel's coming up to you. You can only image how pathetic you look; puffy red eyes, sobbing over a childhood toy that you're clutching onto desperately. You hate that you look so weak in front of her.

You cry harder and she places her arms around you, guiding you to a bench where you two sit. She takes your glasses off and brings your face to her shoulder while she runs soothing circles on your back. You're ruining her uniform with tears and you hate that too. "It's okay," she whispers. "It's okay." She uses one hand to fix up your hair while the other continues its ministrations on your back.

She hums a familiar tune in your ear as she hugs you, still running one hand through your hair almost as though she's playing with it, particularly your side braid. You're full-on sobs have subsided into tiny whimpers so she pulls back to make sure you're okay. You know you look terrible and she offers you a weak smile. "Better?"

You nod, not trusting your voice. She gets your glasses and places them back on your face. "Thanks," and just as you expect your words come out in a squeak. "You're the best." Her smile falters slightly. If you weren't sitting so close to her you wouldn't have noticed, but you are and so you do.

She shakes her head, "No, I'm not," she admits. You think it's just modesty and you want to say it but your voice is still unsteady, so instead she continues on, "I saw how they treat you, and your friends, and anyone else that they thought was a loser." She pauses seemingly ashamed with herself. "But I didn't do anything about it. Not a thing. I should have known better."

"No," you interrupt, your voice cracking. "It's not your fault. I don't blame-"

"I should have known better, Quinn." Her tone has such finality in it that you decide not to argue. "I have two gay dads." You nod, this not being new information. "And I know what they had to go through growing up. They taught me not to bully, so I didn't. But I let others do so." She lets out a deep breath. "But not anymore. I promise you Quinn, I going to make a change in this school."

Your face must light up at her words because now she's smiling at you. God, she's got a beautiful smile. And you know that you'd do just about anything to keep her smiling at you like that. She gets up; you're sure that she's about to leave and you suddenly feel alone. But she doesn't and extends her hand for you. At first you just stare at it with doe eyes and then up at her. "You're hungry aren't you? I've got some food in my locker. You can have some if you want."

You tentatively reach out. Seeing your hesitance, she grasps onto your hand, interlocking your fingers and drags you off. You feel like you're flying and all the pain and sorrow that you felt from before has been replaced with warmth and joy. And then you let yourself start to think that maybe, just maybe, this year won't be as bad as you thought after all.


AN: All right, so down to the interactive part. Since this is 2nd Person POV, it's pretty much your story and I want to write it as such. And although I'd love to write multiple paths where you all get to chose what to do at key moments and such and such... that would be way too much work and I'd burn myself out. So instead (if you'd like to leave a review or just see this continued) I'd appreciate if you vote one of the 2 or more choices that I will have at the end of each chapter. Some will be actually choices while others will be more along the lines of how you react and sometimes I'll have both...

So...

Choice:

A) Do you invite Rachel to have lunch with your friends, in the cafeteria where everyone can see you

or

B) Do you have a private lunch with Rachel in the halls

And I'd also love suggestion if you have any.