[inspired by this post]
She’s arguing with Randy Jackson—because, honestly, that Jessica Phillips was not sharp, and Rachel would know because there’s this insufferable girl in her Musical Theatre class who can’t hit a high re to save her life, even though she for some reason thinks she can—when there’s a knock on the door.
Rachel stands up instinctively but freezes when she’s on her feet, glancing over her shoulder at the window, which is slick and shimmering with pouring rain. She knows it’s not Kurt, because he has this phobia of getting his hair wet, and besides, he has a few more college applications to get through for spring enrollment. It’s not Santana, because she’s come down with the flu and isn’t in any condition to come over.
And she knows for sure that it’s not Quinn.