Author's Note: For those of you who are reading this now, I have recently removed all 26 chapters of this story. Currently, I am re-writing every single chapter. That is all.
It was cloudy the day Rachel put her hand on Puck's shoulder and suggested a friendship of sorts. She's unsure why she suggested friendship as a peace offering, an olive branch. They weren't friends before, and they weren't going to be friends after. They haven't been friends in the longest time, not since prior to their arrival at high school. He shrugs off her hand, and admits it as such, there will be no friendship, walking off the bleachers, as she watches him go for the second time that day. He slushies her for years without a second thought, and he cost Rachel a fortune in dry cleaning bills. He likes to make fun of her knee socks, and the compulsion she has with Kit Kat bars, and she's still am at a loss for words for the fact they were dating, or dated. She has to learn to stop using the current tense, They're in the past tense now, They're over over over. Regretfully, she thinks, over much like they were before.
Rachel cradles her head in her hands and waited for the hurt to subside, and she must have waited long enough, because it was dark when she looked up and Finn was sitting in the open seat next to her. They didn't say anything, even though she felt the wheels in his head turn, and he was trying to think.
Come on, he said. I'll give you a ride home.
Wordlessly, she stands, ignoring her wobbly knees and grabs his hand for something to hold on to. He traces the inside of her palm in circular motions with his fingers but she doesn't feel anything at all. She had wanted Finn for so long, and now here he appears, playing the lead in her life again, but she doesn't, she doesn't feel anything at all. Rachel ignores the curious glances out of the corner of his eye, and they don't talk on the drive home, not until she offers words of thanks, and leaves the vehicle, stumbling home and leaning against the front door.
Her dads are out of town for the weekend, so she's in no rush to move from the floor. The tiles feel cool against her bare legs and she's cold, but it's less from the house than from inside her heart. She begins to convince herself Noah and her would have broken up, anyway. With or without Finn breaking up with Quinn when it turned out she wasn't pregnant anymore.
One thing had nothing to do with the other. Her and Noah were too different, they were incompatible on every level. He hadn't been to a math class in two years, and she found safety in numbers, knowing the end result would always be the same, there would be no surprises. He joined Glee for the cougars, she joined because she had finally found a place to fit in. She had five and ten and twenty year plans, outlining her life and she doesn't think he knows what he's doing tomorrow, much less in five years. Rachel needed someone with plans and outlines, and he wasn't even on her list.
She would sit there all night and make excuses for why Noah and her shouldn't be together, but it didn't help to change anything. They had only been dating a week, and he knew how she enjoyed her coffee. Milk and four sugars, nor was she a fan of breakfast. He knew 'Wicked' was her favorite musical, and that she would turn a lesbian for Megan Fox. He knew more things, and she doesn't even know how he knew anything. They had been together a week.
(Their prior time spent together was of no relevance)
It was only when she made her move off the floor when she realized she was still wearing his oversized sweater, the one he gave this morning when he saw her flimsy attire and mocked her for not checking the weather. He was the one who tugged it over her small body, watching it cover her shirt and skirt, smirked and said she should wear his clothes, and nothing else, more often. It was her and his sweater, and the knee socks. He planted a kiss on Rachel's lips, like they've been doing this all along, and she watched him saunter off, not realizing it'd be their last kiss.
It was only then Rachel began to cry.