love like fools ➙ glee

twenty-six ; losing my religion.

trigger warning(s): discussions of religion, brief references of homophobia.

. . . 

Alicia was bound to slip up eventually. She knew this.

She just hadn't expected it today.

It had already been a long day. Kurt wasn't answering her calls or texts and Finn was busy with Rachel, meaning she had to walk home. Which wouldn't have been unbearable, if the weather wasn't above average. Even in her Cheerios outfit, she was sweltering, eventually shrugging off her leather jacket once it began sticking to her skin.

She wished she could've called her mother for a ride. Too bad she was working late again.

Except, she wasn't.

As soon as Alicia stepped into her house that afternoon, she knew she was in trouble.

Arabella's gaze had been soft and excited when she first heard Alicia's footsteps, but when she recognized her costume, that gentleness evaporated. She set her jaw. Silence dragged, the door left ajar from where Alicia, frozen, abandoned it.

"Mom--"

"What in the world are you wearing?"

Alicia shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She fiddled with her fingers. She glanced towards the forgotten door. No, there was no escape from this, no permanent solution. She'd always known this would come back to bite her.

She just hadn't expected it so soon.

Dozens of lies already began to form. Santana thought it would be funny if I borrowed her outfit was the most realistic, with the others going significantly downhill. None would work. She was disappointed in herself for considering them in the first place, especially so instinctively. How had she come to this? Was lying a reflex of hers now? Her stomach twisted.

"Alicia." It was obvious Arabella was struggling to maintain her calm. "Please tell me you did not join the cheerleading squad."

She wanted to tell her that. Not because she wished she hadn't, but because it was, indeed, a reflex. Disgust nearly swallowed her whole. Desperate to rebel against it, desperate to prove she wasn't a horrible person, Alicia shook her head. "I can't tell you that."

I can't tell you I'm not best friends with the quarterback you hate. I can't tell you I haven't fallen in love with him; I can't tell him that, either, or his girlfriend, who's supposed to be my friend. I can't tell you I've tried to reconcile with Tina and failed. 

I can't tell you I don't feel like I'm losing myself.

Her words caught in her throat.

She wasn't surprised. They always did.

Arabella exhaled sharply. She took a seat at the counter, dropping her face in her hands. This was the reaction Alicia had been both expecting and dreading. Silently, she shut and locked the door before joining her mother. Not that she dared to sit down. That implied a casualness they lacked.

Why did her mother choose today to come home early? What was so special about today?

"One month before you started high school last year, you and I had a conversation." Alicia tensed. She knew where this was going. "I encouraged you to join any extracurricular of your choosing in the hopes of getting you to branch out after what happened in middle school. But there was one exception. Do you remember that exception?"

She didn't answer.

"Cheerleading," said Arabella. She met Alicia's eyes, a noticeable crease in her forehead. "You told me that was more than fine with you. You never liked cheerleaders."