So Rachel feels slightly overwhelmed. No big deal, right?

She stops by her locker just to take a breather for once. What with Glee club, her new boyfriend (well, not exactly new, but it's a fresh start!) and assignments being thrown at her left and right, she's finding it hard to balance it all. She leans against her locker and looks up at the ceiling. She finds it particularly impressive that the students at McKinley High find ways to get gum stuck everywhere, even the ceilings. She admires their determination, however misguided it may be.

And it's completely misguided.

She sighs, and looks back down. She watches as Puck sweet talks some girl across the hall. He's making his signature raised-eyebrow-suggestive-look. All the girls fall for it. She would know.

He makes the girl laugh at something, which Rachel no doubt knows it's incredibly lewd and disgusting. He then pulls out a folded paper from his pocket. Homework, Rachel concluded. It's not like Puck to carry a book bag or even a binder for that matter. It was senior year, and he got lazier as the years went by. The girl simply nods and takes it from him, still smiling.

And that's when it hits her.

"Finn, I'm not saying you have to do all of my assignments, I'm just proposing a business deal."

"That requires me to do your homework for you?" Finn asked, straightening out some sheet music. He had been assigned to give it out for this class, as Rachel substituted for Mr. Schue. Of course when Rachel subbed, it meant that it was a free period. The rest of the Glee club were on their phones, and talking quite loudly to each other.

"No, don't be ridiculous. I'd never let you write a paper for me. Not to say that you're not capable of writing an articulate essay, you're just not capable of writing one up to my standards."

"Thanks." He smiled, but his it soon disappeared. "Wait, what?"

"Look, Finn, I just need you to do this for me, okay? I don't ask much of you." She stood directly in front of him. "These end of the week Economic papers are becoming a nuisance. I don't have time to write that, as well as give out my surveys on the effects of music on the teenage brain at the mall. Not to mention that we need to practice for our upcoming duet. And we haven't exactly been spending a lot of time together…"

Finn made that scrunched up face that meant that he was thinking too hard. Rachel found it endearing.

"I'd give you outlines on what the paper would consist of, and all you have to do is type it up for me. Simple as that."

"Rachel, I've never been good with computers. I still hand in all my drafts written and wait for the teacher to tell me that it needs to be typed up. The only year I handed in all my papers correctly was when… well…"

"When?"

"When I dated Quinn. She used to do them for me."

"Quinn…" Rachel accidently said out loud. She looked over to where the blonde would be, if she were still in Glee club… and still blonde for that matter.

"I'm sorry, Rachel." Finn said, sounding slightly disappointed. "I'd do it if I could, but-"

"No need to apologize, dear. You've actually given me a brilliant idea."

"Let me get this straight; I do your homework, and you pay me?"

Rachel found Quinn at her new hangout; the dirty old couch under the bleachers. She held a cigarette between her fingers, and her now bright pink hair was unkempt. Rachel was sure Quinn didn't even try to style it. She must've woken up, put on some clothes and left.

The skanks were nowhere to be found, and Rachel wasn't going to ask where they were. She was happy to talk to Quinn without their sarcastic comments on the side. Maybe Rachel could get through to Quinn without them nearby.

Quinn sat with her legs against her chest, shoeless, and comfortable it looked like; her big combat boots resting on the floor beside the couch. She didn't look in Rachel's direction. She never did nowadays. All the times Rachel had come to convince her to come back to the Glee club, Quinn never once looked Rachel in the eye. Rachel knew that Quinn didn't go for small talk anymore. She had to get to the point or get out.

"Yes." Rachel said. She was doing her best not to talk too much. She knew it annoyed Quinn, now more than ever.

"How much?" Quinn asked.

"I'm willing to negotiate the price." Rachel said, trying to sound unafraid. Quinn could be quite intimidating, even before she had her whole punk makeover, and especially now that she did.

"Twenty-five."

"Per essay?"

"Yes."

"Bibliography included?"

"That would cost you an extra two."

"So twenty-seven for a full paper?"

"Twenty-five for three pages." Quinn said, matter-of-factly. "Which is the standard length for an essay."

"And if I needed more than three pages?"

"Five per page."

"Three pages for twenty-five, and five extra for any additional pages. Bibliography for two… cover page?"

"Do you want pictures on it?"

"Yes."

"Another two. Just one without the pictures."

"So, I need a four page essay by tomorrow…" She dug into her purse. "Thirty-four?"

Quinn stood up and walked over to her. It was the first time Rachel got to see Quinn, like really see her. It wasn't at all like how she remembered her. There wasn't any type of emotion in her eyes, not even anger, or confusion, which was the two things Rachel was used to seeing.

Before Rachel could make any other types of actual observations, Quinn grabbed the money, and walked back to the couch.

"Sounds good." She said, plopping herself back onto the couch.

"Good. Great. This is great. I'll text you the outline, assuming you haven't changed your phone number? It's fine. I can e-mail it to you and text you, just to make sure. I'm glad we've come to an agreement, Quinn. I've also made this contract you need to sign, just to avoid any unnecessary-"

"We're done, Berry."

"But the contract-"

"Goodbye, Berry."

"Okay. Leaving."

Quinn didn't get home until about 1:50 AM. She normally got home around this time, and if she was lucky, much later. Her mother was in her third dream already, she was sure, so she could slip in her room without being asked a ridiculous amount of questions. She breathed a sigh of relief.

She felt her way around in the dark, doing her best to be quiet as possible as she stepped up the stairs. When she reached the top, she saw her mother leaning against Quinn's bedroom door.

"Where have you been?" Judy Fabray certainly didn't sound it, but she was drunk. Quinn noted the strong smell of liquor emanating from her mother.

"Nowhere."

"Quinn, is something wrong? You can tell me, you know. You can trust me. I'm not like your father. You've… changed so much, and I-"

"Nothing's wrong. I'm fine."

"Quinnie, you can't lie to your mother. I always know."

"Is that so?" Quinn asked, annoyed. "So I don't have to tell you, then. Move out of the way."

Quinn walked up to her. Judy put her hands on her daughter's shoulders and looked right into her eyes. She furrowed her brows in frustration. She was frustrated that she couldn't understand because Quinn wouldn't let her understand. She was trying to be a better mother. She was.

"Please, I just-"

"Now." Quinn said, shaking her mother off her.

Judy took a deep breath, and stepped away from the door. Quinn stepped in, and locked it behind her.

She threw herself on her bed. That was the first time she had said more than two words to her mother in over three months. Judy finally kicked Russell out, thinking it would somehow magically change their relationship and they would be best friends and Quinn would go back to church and meet a nice boy and fall in love and they would get married, and she would be so proud. Quinn felt sick just thinking about it. Sometimes it really looked like her mother didn't understand her at all. Growing up, everyone always said that nobody is ever really alone. There's always someone. For most people, it's their mothers, and for those unfortunate few who have no parents, it was always someone else. Be it a teacher, or a friend, or a lover, everyone always found somebody. Quinn soon learned that she was one of those poor people that truly were alone, in every sense of the word.

But she didn't want to be anymore.

She dug her fingers into her sheets. It didn't feel like her bed. It didn't feel like her room. Part of her knew that's why she didn't spend so much time here. It just didn't feel like home.

She didn't feel like herself, but how could she? She didn't know who she was.

She rolled over to her side to see her phone just laying there. That's right, she thought. She had forgotten it today.

She flipped it open and saw about thirty-four text messages and three missed calls. Three of the texts were from her mother; "honey, where are you?", an hour later, "your father and i are worried. he says he can't reach you either, and you're supposed to go with him to church this week", immediately followed by "please text back".

The other thirty-one were from Rachel Berry. The very last one read; "Quinn, I hope everything is okay with you. Would you please text me back? Please? I'm getting worried." A majority of them were like that. As Quinn scrolled through them all, she noticed only a few were asking about the paper she was supposed to write; "Property loans, investments, and the steps to buying a house. That's what Ms. Smith wants for the paper. I was thinking that you could start out with a metaphor. Introductions are supposed to attract the reader, and reel them in, so they want to read the whole thing, somewhat similar to a good song. Afterwards you could state the thesis; I was thinking 'With this economy, real estate agents are losing money with each sold house instead of gaining it.' What do you think?"

Quinn smiled at the fact that even Berry's text messages were as articulate as she was. Not to mention long and quite annoying.

She rolled onto her back, and held the phone above herself. Quickly hitting reply; "your probably sleeping, but i'm writing the paper now. metaphor sounds good. i'll begin it like that then get into the thesis"

Send.

She sat back up and dragged her laptop from under her bed. She decided she would write it now, but would have to wait to print it in the morning. The printer was in her father's study which was locked. He still hadn't moved completely out of the house yet. He would be here by morning though to grab whatever was in there, and she could do it then.

It was fine, she thought; She wasn't planning on sleeping anyways.

Quinn had a lot of trouble sleeping lately. It seemed like she got rid of all the things that kept her up at night, but that didn't stop them from keeping her up at night.

She stared at the loading screen, as the computer booted up.

Bzzzt. Bzzzt. She looked toward her phone. Aw crap, she thought. I woke her up… aw crap… I don't want to have a conversation with Berry at 2:00 AM…

But she picked up her phone, anyway: one new text message; "So you're okay?I was worried."

Quinn quickly answered; "o rlly? i couldnt tell from the 31 txt messages you sent me"

Send.

It was an asshole thing to do, but that was Quinn lately, wasn't it?

It wasn't long before Berry responded; "Sorry. That was a bit abrasive, now that I think about it. But you are okay, right?"

Quinn wasn't in the mood for this. "look, anything else you want in the paper?"

"No, no. You'll do fine, I'm sure. You're very eloquent."

"so i'll get started then"

"Ok. Goodnight, and good luck, Quinn. And thanks."

And with that Quinn began typing away.

Rachel slipped her fingers between Finn's as she caught him in the hallway. The exchanged a smile before entering the choir room.

Artie gave them a small wave, as he wheeled himself over to the guitar stand. Tina and Mike were too busy staring at each other to notice their entrance. Brittany sat alone at the top row, looking like a sad, lost puppy. She twiddled her thumbs and didn't look up at anyone. Rachel and Brittany were never really friends, but she couldn't help but feel sorry for the girl. With Santana out, it seemed like Brittany was alone most of the time at rehearsal.

Kurt and Blaine were on vacation. Kurt asked his dad if he could go to Disneyworld, and take Blaine with him for the week of his birthday, and of course good ol' Burt agreed. He had been saving up for exactly that sort of occasion. The glee club knew everything was going well between them, as both their statuses on Facebook were "Eloping in Disneyworld. Cinderalla = Maid of Honor material."

Mercedes was standing by the piano with Puck, as he lazily strummed his guitar. When Rachel and Finn passed them, they heard the words "she was hot BEFORE she got her ass enlarged", with Brad nodding in agreement in the background. Rachel immediately knew that it wasn't a conversation she wanted to be a part of.

Finn and Rachel took their usual seats at the edge of the first row.

"So Mr. Schue's absent again." Puck said, when he saw everyone was situated. "He's out of state."

"Doing what?" Artie asked.

"Who knows with that guy." Puck shrugged. "But look, that duet thing Finchel are doing is coming up, so why don't you two practice that while we throw fruit at you so you'll be ready?"

There were snickers amongst the group, but Rachel stood up, unfazed. "Thank you, Noah."

"Would you stop calling me that? It's Puck. Or Pucksaurus, the Puckster, or Pucky Puck, Puckzilla, Puckerone, and I'll even accept Big Daddy from you, princess."

Finn shot an angry look at him. Puck shrugged.

"We haven't exactly performed it fully yet," Rachel said, ignoring the boys. "So practicing is a great idea. Finn?"

Quinn waited outside the choir room. She heard Rachel and Finn performing some kind of love song, so she didn't want to interrupt. Well, she did, but she figured she could skip her art class if she took her sweet time.

She checked each ends of the hallways before she took out her last cigarette and lit up. So what if she got suspended? It was like she was already considering the truancy and constant lateness.

This was the only thing she really liked about the "new her". Sure the hair was cool, and so were the clothes, hell, even the skanks had their moments; but the one thing she loved the most was the smoking. She loved smoking. She never thought she would, but she did. It gave her a sense of relief, it calmed her down, it let her think about nothing for a little while. It was a pass-time activity. It was a cancer in a stick, but she didn't mind it.

The singing died down, and she heard scattered applause. She took it as an invitation.

She swung open the door, and stepped in, cigarette hanging from her mouth, and Berry's paper in her hands.

"Glee club." She said, simply, stopping in the middle of the room.

Rachel and Finn turned around. The group looked from each other to Quinn. Most of them were surprised to see her within ten feet of the choir room, much less inside it.

"It's good to see you, Quinn." Artie was the first to speak.

"What's goin' on, girl?" Puck said with a smile.

"Q, we've missed you. Santana too." Brittany said.

"I'm here to give something to Berry, so save it." Quinn said. She really didn't want to start going around the room and have people list of the reasons why she should come back. She wasn't going back. Ever.

Rachel stepped forward, as everyone silently watched on.

"Three pages, one thousand-one-hundred and one words. Six works cited. Three from the internet two from a book and one from the newspaper. Cover page, MLA format." Quinn handed the paper to her. "Everything in order?"

Rachel flipped through the essay. There was just a look of wide-eyed surprised.

"What?" Quinn asked.

"It's… perfect. How did you… I mean, when I asked you to do this, I didn't think it was a good idea, to be honest. Someone do my work for me?" Rachel quickly skimmed the paper. "No, they could never live up to a Rachel Berry thesis paper, but this…"

Quinn smiled, an honest smile. She knew if she had made Berry even partially speechless, she had done something right.

"You even put a star next to my name." She said, flipping to the cover page.

"Yeah, well…" Quinn rubbed the back of her head. "That's what you do, isn't it?"

"Thank you, Quinn." Rachel said, sincerely.

"Whatever." Quinn shrugged.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Puck said. "You did Rachel's homework?"

"She paid me."

"So if I paid you, would you-"

"No."

"But you-"

"No."

"I don't under-"

"No." Quinn said, withdrawing the cigarette from her mouth and breathing out smoke, cool as can be. "See you guys around."

"That was really nice of Quinn." Finn said, watching Rachel scribble things into her notebook. It was lunch time, and as per usual they sat together in the middle of the lunchroom, a table all to themselves. "I wouldn't have ever thought she'd say yes."

"Quinn can be nice when she wants to." Rachel said, not looking up from her notebook. "Which is more often than you'd think."

"But still… I thought she hated you."

Rachel stopped writing, abruptly, and looked up. "Why would she hate me?"

"All those mean things she said about you, and… well, you know. Me. And Puck. And you told me she slapped you at prom."

"Well, that was- well, I seem to recall- I seem to recall that I slapped you, Finn. Or have you forgotten? Besides, Quinn and I have put that far behind us. It's all in the past. 'Beaucoup d'eau a coulé sous les ponts.'"

Finn looked confused out of his mind.

"That's French for 'it's water under the bridge'."

Finn still looked like he didn't understand.

Rachel sighed. "It's an idiom. It means it isn't important anymore. What's done is done. Let bygones be bygones, I say."

"Bygones? Is that French, too?"

"It means we're friends now, Finn." Rachel smiled. "I think, anyways." She added, quietly.

"That's cool." Finn nodded. "Puck and I are getting to be buddies again, too. Like old times. Bygones be bygones or whatever."

"That's wonderful, Finn. I'm proud of you."

"Thanks. So… would you like some of my fries?"

"Yes, actually. Thank you."

Quinn sat on the bleachers today for a change of pace. She watched Santana take her spot at the top of the pyramid. The first time she saw it, it affected her. It did. It was the moment she knew that she was never going to be that girl again. But this time around a smile curled her lips, because she knew she was never going to be that girl again.

It was so liberating.

People might not have understood it, but she was happy like this. Not as happy as she could be, of course, but she was happier than before. Which, to be honest, wasn't saying that much, but she would take it where she could get it. Bits of happiness here and there, and she was set.

She could hear the skanks below her talking about a new record/thrift store/bar that opened up downtown. She knew they were going to ask her to go. She didn't feel like it, but she needed something to do other than go home. So she would probably say yes. If only for the drinks.

Before Quinn knew it, cheerleader practice was over, and she saw Santana and Brittany making their way over to her.

"Skank." Santana greeted with a smirk.

"Hey, Q." Brittany smiled.

She seemed a lot more cheerful than she was earlier, Quinn noticed. Probably because Santana was here this time around. She realized the two girls were always better when together.

"Cheerios." Quinn smirked.

"You can't say you don't miss it." Santana said.

"Oh, I totally can."

"Sometimes I get tired of wearing this all the time, too, but then I remember I can do this…" Brittany quickly spun around and her skirt twirled. "and then I like it again."

"So," Santana said, looking back at Quinn. "there's a party, Fabray."

"Is there?"

"Yes, and I'm inviting you. Maybe you can recover whatever dignity you have left by attending."

"Not interested."

"You can't be serious. Everyone is going. It's the biggest party of the year! Even the loser dwarf and her loser dinosaur are gonna be there. If you don't go to that party, and they do, I'm sorry, I just can't be seen within a mile radius of you."

Quinn laughed at that.

"Just come by, Q. We haven't all been together in so long. We could catch up, make fun of Berry's ridiculously puke-worthy sweaters, and I can fix that lion's mane of yours, because girl, I love you, but you have gotto do something with that hair." Santana pursed her lips. "The Unholy Trinity, remember? Just hang out for a while. I'll text you the address when we get there."

Brittany did an anxious little jump. "Say you'll come. Please?"

Quinn sighed. "No promises."

Quinn roamed aimlessly. She wished she had her car right about now. Her father took it away from her during the summer because she got into illegal street racing and was almost arrested. Luckily for her, the cop went to the same church her family did. Yeah. Right. 'Lucky'.

She didn't have any money on her, either. She needed a new pack of cigarettes. She took out her phone to check the time; 9:31 PM. Still early, she thought.

So keep walking, Fabray.

She reached a park on top of a hill she used to play in when she was little. She sat down on an empty bench. There were kids with their parents playing in the sandbox and the monkey bars. She remembered that her mom would sit on this very bench and just watch her. She never played with her. Maybe that's what's wrong with her. She never got enough love when she was a little girl.

How typical, she scoffed.

She couldn't help but think of her then. Almost everything reminded her of… her. She did the right thing. She had to keep telling herself that. She did the right thing. She did it because she loved her. Shelby is a good person. She'll be fine. I mean, look at Berry. Berry's talented, and smart, and she can be anything she wants to be- hell, Berry will be anything she wants to be. Berry will have all her dreams come true, and she will have done it all without Shelby.

Beth will be fine without me. Better without me.

I did the right thing.

It had been about an hour since Quinn left the park. She waited until all the parents and their children had left before she started crying. She had gotten better at not crying all the time, but sometimes she just couldn't help it. Knowing she did the right thing didn't stop her from missing her. Beth was the one person who could give her the only thing she'd ever wanted.

Berry once told her that crying isn't anything to be ashamed of. She told her that since the very second we're born, crying is the only thing that tells us we're alive.

Sometimes, Quinn thought, just sometimes, Berry isn't that bad. Sure, she's annoying, and her fashion sense is just terrible, and she's always so damned determined, but she knew how to be a friend, something Quinn was trying to be better at.

Berry knew how to be a friend to people who didn't deserve it, because Quinn sure as hell knew she didn't.

She was walking in the direction of her house now, when she felt the bzzt of her phone.

"q, ii hve sumethn too tellll uuuuu i am sooo gay for briney like u hav no clue so so so so gay" from: Santana. 10:51 PM.

Quinn stared at the message for a little while. She leaned back onto the closed gate of a nearby store. She smiled and shook her head.

She hit reply: "youre drunk."

"yesssssssss and gay. sosososo gay. im a lebian, q. ur the fisr persun ive told but im gonna tell erryone. ERRYONE. dnt u seeee im npt lebansee im lsbiiann im on the rjght track bb i wuz born this waaaaaay"

It wasn't like Quinn didn't know. She wasn't blind. All the touching, the sneaking off; Brittany didn't look at Santana like that because they were friends. Santana didn't sing "Landslide" to Brittany because they were friends. Quinn knew. Matter of fact, she was sure that the whole glee club knew. Well maybe everyone except Finn. He's not… that perceptive.

Actually, it was so obvious that even Finn must've known.

"that's great santana." Quinn sent. Because it was. It was great. It was a brave thing Santana was doing, and she couldn't help but feel proud of her.

"u dnt hate me?"

Quinn was confused. "why would i?"

"dnno juss thght maybe or sommthin… look grll i luv u too, q. you've been so sad latlry nd i jus wan a says i luv u. and that im gay. so gay. don't forget. im gay."

Quinn laughed, but she could also feel tears welling up in her eyes. She wasn't going to cry again, though. Not twice in one night. She's moved passed that.

"thanks, s. i love you too"

"even tho im GAY? like reaaly gay? not gayer than hummel but like blaine gay, u kno, like i can pass 4 str8 nd errythin but im sooooo gay"

"yes. of course i love you, even if you're blaine gay" She chuckled as she typed out the response.

Quinn pushed herself off the gate, and looked up at the night sky. She was always disappointed that they could never really see the stars from this part of town. Sure, a few scattered here in there, but she wanted to see them all. She wanted to look up for once and see the sky FULL of stars. Another bzzt shook her from her thoughts.

"Hello, Quinn." Immediately, Quinn could tell that it wasn't Santana this time around. "I was just wondering if perhaps yu were busy, because if you are, I totally undrstndand I can stop texting you at this very moment, well, nt this very moment, but directly after the mment you send me a reply stating in whch you are busy." From: Berry. 10:55 PM.

"so you're drunk, too?" Quinn replied.

"Maybe a little. So… you aren't busy, then?"

"not particularly."

"I just wanted to thank you again for teh paper. We got an A+, if you were wondering. Well, you got A+, techncally. And you didn't have to do it, and I just want you to kno I relly apreciate... aprecciate… appreciate it? Is that how you speld that? Spell. I meant spell. And I'm glad we're talking again too. My delete butttn seems to be broken…"

"your welcome. again. and yes, "appreciate". it was your idea, so the grade's not all mines. and maybe something is stuck in between the buttons…?"

"That's kind of you to say, but we both know you're lying. Which is odd. You wouldn't normally lie for my benefit. And yes, something was stuck, but I'm not entirely sure what it was, though it smelled of chocolate."

"shouldn't you be having fun at this "party of the year"?"

It took Rachel a minute or two to reply. Quinn was sure she was reading over the text so everything was spelled right, and made sense. Even whilst drunk, Rachel Berry aimed for perfection. You had to admire the girl.

"If I could be quite honest, I'm not entirely enjoying myself. Finn and I got into a fight and he's… somewhere, and again, if I could be honest, I really don't care where he's gone because he can be such an idiot sometimes. And I'm sorry, you probably don't want to hear me complain about Finn but I just needed someone to talk to since everyone else seems to be having fun and I really didn't want to impose upon them, but I'm imposing upon you, now, aren't I? I should stop. I'll stop."

"it's fine, berry. finn is an idiot, theres no doubt about that. but you'll both get over it, like you always do. that's the difference, you know. love conquers all, so they say."

And then Quinn paused for a moment to ask herself if she was really having a heart to heart while standing in the middle of the street, alone, with drunk Rachel via text message who was at a giant party with Finn. Because she was. And if you would have said three years ago that this would be her reality now, she would've laughed in your face.

"Thanks, Quinn. I must admit I do prefer this pink-haired, non-shower-taking nice, though-at-times-slightly-sarcastic version of you to the name-calling, confusing, cheerleader type Quinn."

"hey fyi, i took a shower today" Quinn replied because she knew it would make Rachel laugh, and she knew that that's what Rachel needed right now. Being drunk should be something that's fun. Sometimes being drunk forced you to cry about all the things going wrong in your life, and have sex with people you really shouldn't, which ended in accidental pregnancies that leads to downward spirals of dying your hair and hanging out with skanks, but for the most part, it should be fun.

"gurrrrl berry is texting you i can seeeee her laughing to hrself in the corner. she not wearin nothign ugly 2day. lyk I can look at her without wanntng to throw up. u wann come to party itz fun so much fun brinnay is here shes so prettayy and she sys hiiii nd she wants u 2 come to"

Quinn looked up at the sky again. Still no stars. She shrugged.

"sure. send me the address."