Author's note: I originally intended for this fic to be a long one-shot, but I didn't finish the whole thing in time for Faberry Week. So I am posting a good chunk of what I do have written, and the rest of the story will be posted after I have time to complete it. This is now going to be a two-part fic.

Thanks to chelseablu44 for helping me with legal research and to poetzproblem for being a fabulous beta. :)

Never Go Hungry Again - Part 1

It takes less than one week for Rachel's idyllic imaginings of New York City to be tarnished.

It happens on her first day of classes at NYU—an absolutely gorgeous September morning free from the threat of rain—with Rachel feeling like the world is her oyster. After four years of hard work, she's finally made it, and she just knows that today is going to be the start of something wonderful. Her body thrums with excitement, and she practically bounces in her steps as she walks down East 10th Street. But as she turns the corner onto University Place, she's broken from her revelry.

Sitting mere feet away on what looks like an old, winter coat is a young woman with short, messy, pink hair, wearing dark jeans, a threadbare, black t-shirt, and worn-out sneakers. She's holding a beat-up paper cup and asking passersby for money, and Rachel's first thought is that she's too thin, too unclean, and entirely too beautiful to be living on the street.

What's worse is that most people ignore her completely, and Rachel's heart goes out to her.

She hesitates then, her stomach twisting with uncertainty. Her dads and her RA warned her not to talk to strangers on the street, but Rachel feels like she should give this girl something. Unexpectedly, the girl looks up at Rachel, and she sucks in a breath when their gazes lock. She is struck by the girl's eyes—stunning hazel that shine with sadness and a bit of hopefulness—and Rachel swears she can feel those emotions to her very core.

A light, unexpected hipcheck breaks the moment, and Rachel turns to see one of the girls from her floor smiling at her. "Hey, you."

"Hi, Tina," she replies, mentally shaking her head and coming back to herself.

"I was just heading to Weinstein to get some breakfast. Wanna join me?"

"That's where I was planning on going, so sure, I'd love to join you," Rachel replies happily, glad that this whole making friends process is much easier here than it ever was in high school.

They head off to the dining hall together then. Tina doesn't seem to even notice the girl begging on the street, but Rachel can't help but cast a glance at her as they pass by. Their eyes don't meet this time, but there's a sinking feeling of guilt as she walks away.

Breakfast is eaten relatively quickly, but Rachel enjoys the opportunity to get to know Tina a little bit better. Still, the thought of the homeless girl on the corner isn't far from Rachel's mind, and regret lingers for having not given her something.

To ease her conscience, Rachel decides that she will give the girl a dollar when she goes back to her dorm after her morning classes are finished.

But to Rachel's disappointment, the girl is long gone by the time she returns.

It's dark when Rachel arrives in her dorm room, fresh off a late evening choir rehearsal.

All in all, it's been a good day. She's met like-minded people who she thinks she has a chance at becoming real friends with, and she really enjoyed her classes. But her mind keeps wandering to the homeless girl she saw on the street this morning. Rachel doesn't know why she keeps thinking about her, but the girl definitely left an impression on her—the mere memory of her sitting on the sidewalk with a mostly empty cup in such a haggard state tugging at Rachel's heart strings.

Of course she has always known, even if only in an abstract sort of way, that homelessness exists. But she always pictured it a certain way—older men who aren't all there upstairs—and this girl certainly doesn't fit that mental image at all. How could someone so young and so beautiful end up like that?

Strains of "Defying Gravity" sound out, interrupting her musings, and Rachel's lips automatically curve up into a smile at the sound of her best friend's ringtone. She quickly answers her phone and brings it to her ear. "Hello?"

"Tell me about your day," Kurt says excitedly through the phone. "How were your classes? Any cute boys? Or girls?"

Rachel laughs lightly as she plops down on her bed. "I see where your priorities lie."

"You can't blame me though. You haven't dated anyone since you and Jesse broke up, and that was over a year ago!" he exclaims. "I just want to see if there are any potential prospects."

She rolls her eyes even though she knows he can't see it. "Well, I did meet this guy, Elliot, in my Music Theatre Workshop, but he definitely plays for your team. He's also in my Aural Comp and Music Theory classes. But we really hit it off." She lets out a happy sigh. "I really love it here, Kurt. I know it's still early, but I like my classes so far, and I'm meeting so many wonderful people. It's nothing like high school."

"I'm glad," he says softly and sincerely. "And I feel the same way about FIT. I'm so glad we got out of that closed-minded town."

They talk a little while longer about school and then the topic shifts to Bring It On: The Musical and wondering if it's worth spending the money to see such a show. During their conversation, her roommate returns home, offering Rachel a smile and a wave hello before picking up her guitar and lightly playing it at her desk.

"Ugh, I hate to do this, but I have to go and finish writing a paper," Kurt says.

"Okay," she replies. "We're still on for dinner on Thursday, right?"

"I wouldn't miss it," he promises. "I'll see you then. Goodnight, Rachel."

"Night, Kurt," she says before hanging up her phone and immediately turning to face her roommate. "How was your day?"

"It was alright," Dani replies, placing her guitar back on its stand. "Although, I can already tell that my math class is going to give me hell. I seriously don't understand why I have to take two semesters of it when I'm going to spend rest of my life working with the written word."

"I'm sure I'll know your pain next year. Although, I'm not exactly looking forward to my writing class tomorrow."

Dani shakes her head with a slight quirk of her lips. "You know I'm more than happy to help you out with that if you need it."

Rachel smiles gratefully. "Thanks."

"Sorry I missed breakfast, by the way. I don't know why I thought I'd be able to will myself out of bed, but sleep trumps food."

"It's alright. I ended up getting breakfast with Tina." The mention of breakfast, however, has Rachel thinking of this morning, and, once again, her mind immediately returns to the girl she saw on the street. "Although, I saw something that just broke my heart."

"What?" Dani asks curiously.

"There was this girl on University. I can't imagine she's too much older than we are. But she was obviously homeless and asking for money, and so many people walked past her as if she wasn't even there." Rachel worries her lower lip. "But I saw her, and… and I didn't give her any money, and I wish that I had."

"Don't feel bad about not giving her anything, Rachel," her roommate assures her. "In fact, it's better not to encourage people who beg on the street or on the subways. Besides, you don't even know what they'll spend the money on. It could be for drugs or something."

"I hadn't thought of that," she replies, frowning. "But it might not be for anything bad. It could be for food."

Dani shrugs. "Well, whatever. I just don't think you should feel bad over it."

A part of Rachel thinks Dani is right, but it doesn't do much to shake her feelings of sympathy and regret over not doing something.

The next day turns out to be just as gorgeous as the one before it.

Rachel once again has an early class, but it's one that she's especially looking forward to—Vocal Performance Workshop. Elliot is in this class too, and she hopes that they'll get a chance to sing together at some point this semester.

In fact, she's supposed to meet up with him before class to grab breakfast at Weinstein, which is the dorm that Elliot lives in, and Rachel knows her path will once again take her down University Place. She wonders if the homeless girl from yesterday will be in the same spot today.

When Rachel turns the corner and sees a familiar pink head of hair and worn clothing, she doesn't know whether to be relieved or not. It would be better if this girl wasn't in the position where she had to resort to begging for money on the street, but at least now Rachel has the chance to make up for yesterday.

Determined, Rachel gets out a dollar, and, as she approaches, the girl looks up at her. Hazel eyes shine with gratitude when she notices the money in her hand, and Rachel wonders if she remembers her from yesterday, or if she sees so many people every day that it's impossible to remember.

"I'm only going to give you this if you promise to use it on food," Rachel says, remembering Dani's words from last night.

"I promise," she replies. Her voice is low and husky and not at all what Rachel expected, and it sends an odd shiver through her. And while Rachel knows the girl could very well be lying, she feels better at least making sure on her end. She hands over the dollar, and the girl smiles as she takes it. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Rachel replies softly, and immediately, she knows she's done the right thing.

It continues like for the next two weeks. Each morning, Rachel sees the girl in what she now thinks of as "her spot" on University and gives her a dollar, and, in return, the girl always offers her a quiet thank you, a grateful smile, and a look that Rachel can only describe as relief. It never fails to send a feeling of satisfaction through Rachel.

Of course, she feels like she's making a difference in the world, and that can't possibly be a bad thing. But there's something about this that runs a little deeper, albeit subtly. Rachel feels like she's made something of a connection with this girl, and she feels genuine concern for her wellbeing.

But Tina, for one, doesn't understand why Rachel keeps giving her money, and after a few mornings of silently watching Rachel do so, she finally says something about it. "You realize you're not actually helping her by doing that," she says as they continue walking down University and away from the homeless girl.

"That's not true," Rachel argues. "Everyone needs to eat, and I help her do that."

"That's not what I meant," Tina explains. "She needs to get an actual job."

"You say that like it's so easy. The economy isn't exactly booming."

"I guess you're right, but I still think you're wasting your money."

Rachel feels her irritation grow, but she tries to clamp down on it, not wanting to say something that might harm her newly-forming friendship with Tina. "Well, I don't," she finally says. "I don't have it in me to do nothing, and this is what I can do."

"Suit yourself," Tina replies with a shrug, holding the door to Weinstein open for Rachel.

She silently walks through it, relieved that Tina seems to be done discussing her decision to help the homeless girl the only way she knows how.

It's not until Rachel actually sees the girl take her money and walk over to the food cart that Dani affectionately refers to as "the man in the box" and buy herself a coffee and a bagel, that it hits Rachel that she could be doing more for her.

So the next morning, freshly showered after her usual workout at Palladium Hall, Rachel makes a quick pit stop at one of the corner delis that accepts Campus Cash and picks up a few things. Granted, her dads loaded up her NYU card with funds for the purpose of buying books and the occasional meal for herself, but she decides this is a worthwhile use of the money they've given her.

Satisfied with her purchase, Rachel once again makes her way toward the Weinstein dining hall as she has so many mornings before. As she turns onto University, the girl notices her approach, and her pink head lifts, lips curving up at the sight of Rachel. "Hey."

"Good morning," Rachel replies with a smile of her own before holding out a paper bag containing a bagel, an apple, and a banana, loving the way those hazel eyes light up. "I figured it made more sense to give you breakfast instead."

"You didn't have to do that," the girl says with a shake of her head, but she takes the bag anyway, never breaking eye contact. "Thank you so much."

"You're welcome," she replies, taking a moment to watch delicate hands carefully open the bag and awed eyes take in its contents, feeling warmth bloom in her chest at being responsible for that look. "I hope you have a good day," she says before resuming her journey toward the dining hall, pleased with herself.

"Wait," the girl calls out after her, and Rachel pauses, turning back to face her and gazing at her questioningly. "What's your name?"

Rachel hesitates, unsure of whether she should divulge such information.

The other girl's lips curve up into a knowing smiling. "That's alright, you don't have to tell me. Thanks again for the food."

She shifts on her feet, the girl's question having piqued her own curiosity. "Will you tell me your name?" Rachel asks instead.

Hazel eyes seem to twinkle a little at the question. "Quinn."

Rachel nods softly, thinking that the name suits her. "I'll see you tomorrow, Quinn."

"Tomorrow then."

"Rachel," she says, handing Quinn a bag containing her breakfast, just as she's done the last four days.

Quinn's brow furrows in confusion, and Rachel has to suppress her own smile.

"My name is Rachel," she explains. "I figured I owed you it since you told me your name."

Quinn smiles ruefully and shakes her head. "You don't owe me anything, Rachel. You've been a godsend. I can't thank you enough."

"I wish I could do more," she says honestly, and Quinn seems taken aback by her words.

She glances away briefly, and Rachel notices how her hands fidget with the bag in her lap. Something about the sight just makes Rachel's heart break for her all over again.

"You go to NYU, right?" Quinn asks then, meeting Rachel's eyes once more, and Rachel nods, earning her a bit of a wistful smile in return. "What do you study?"

"I'm majoring in music theater," she replies with a hint of pride.

"Ah, so you're a performer."

"I am," Rachel confirms, lips curving up as she clasps her hands behind her back and rocks up onto the balls of her feet. "What about you? Do you sing or play anything?"

Hazel eyes flash with what Rachel thinks might be regret. "I used to play piano," Quinn says after a beat, "but that was a long time ago."

Rachel wonders just how long it's been, and she feels a touch of sadness over the fact that Quinn no longer plays. Not for the first time, she wonders just how Quinn ended up this way, but she can't bring herself to ask for fear of disrupting the easy routine they've fallen into.

"I'm sorry," is the only thing she can think to say.

Quinn shrugs and says it's okay. Rachel can tell it isn't, but, to her chagrin, there isn't really anything she can do about that. Music is a lifeline for her, and she can't imagine what she would do if she lost it.

As the calendar flips to October, the temperature begins to dip, and Rachel notices Quinn favoring a tattered, black and white striped sweater to ward off the chill.

"Can I ask you something?" Rachel asks one morning as she gives Quinn what has now become her usual breakfast.

Quinn nods. "Sure."

Rachel is tempted for a moment to ask deeply personal questions, but instead opts to go with something else that's been on her mind for awhile now. "I see you here on my way to class almost every morning, but when I come back this way in the afternoon, you're gone. Where do you disappear to?"

"If the weather's nice, I'll go to the park."

"And if it's not?"

"Subway."

Rachel glances up at the sky then, trying to determine whether or not the weather will continue to cooperate. Judging from the looks of things, she's fairly certain it will. "What's your favorite kind of food?" she asks, turning her attention back on to the homeless girl.

Quinn looks at her in confusion before her expression morphs into one of curiosity, and there's a glimmer of tempered hopefulness in her eyes. "I like turkey sandwiches," she says. White teeth press into her lower lip as she hesitates for a moment before admitting, "Any kind of sandwich is good. They fill me up longer."

Rachel's heart breaks a little at the thought of Quinn not having enough to eat, and considering just how thin Quinn is, she suspects it happens way too frequently. She wonders how many times she's gone to sleep hungry or cold or both, and she feels almost helpless in her inability to really help this girl. But she'll be damned if she isn't going to do everything she can.

"Meet me in the park at 1:00, okay?"

Quinn's look of curiosity only grows, but she agrees. "I'll be by the fountain."

Rachel takes the plate offered to her by the sandwich maker in the dining hall and gives her a thank you before turning to face her dining companion.

"I thought you were a vegetarian," Elliot says staring at Rachel in mild confusion as they wait for his sandwich to be made.

"Vegan," she corrects. "And yes, I am."

"You know, last time I checked, ham and turkey aren't even remotely vegan. In fact, I'm pretty sure that's dead animal that's been loaded up on your sandwich."

Her stomach churns a bit at the thought, but she's willing to put aside her own ethics for the sake of Quinn's health. "You're absolutely right," she says as Elliot's sandwich is handed to him. "But this is about the greater good."

Elliot eyes her strangely as he follows her to an empty table. "Are you, like, one of those people who binges on burgers when no one is looking?"

Rachel blanches. "No, never," she denies, settling down into her seat. She opens up her backpack and pulls out a ziplock bag. "This isn't for me," she clarifies as she puts the sandwich into the bag. "There's this homeless girl that I've struck up a bit of an acquaintanceship with, and I'm making sure she doesn't go hungry."

"That's sweet of you," Elliot replies with a smile.

"Finally, someone who understands," Rachel says, feeling a measure of relief.

Elliot looks at her questioningly.

"Dani and Tina think I'm wasting my money on her and that I'm not helping her," she explains. She doesn't mention the fact that she hasn't told Kurt about Quinn for fear of his disapproval as well.

"Well, I don't agree," he says with a shake of his head. "I think what you're doing is great."

When Rachel finds Quinn in Washington Square Park a half hour later and gives her the sandwich—the way Quinn almost looks at her like she might cry as she takes it with a grateful smile—she knows Elliot was right.

Rachel sometimes wonders if Quinn is lonely.

She decides that Quinn must be. After all, she is always alone whenever Rachel sees her, which is now twice a day—once to give her breakfast on the sidewalk of University Place in the mornings and once to give her lunch in Washington Square Park each afternoon—weather permitting, that is. (Rachel has come to loathe the rain because it means she won't get to see Quinn—won't get to make sure she's being taken care of in some way.)

There's something about Quinn that tugs at her heartstrings and refuses to let go, and with every passing day, it seems to get stronger. She's not sure what gets to her more—the sight of Quinn sitting on the sidewalk begging for money or the sight of her sitting at the edge of the fountain getting lost in the words of a beaten-up, yellowed paperback book.

Rachel remembers what it was like in high school, before she met Kurt and Mercedes. She remembers what it was like to be alone, to have no one to sit with in the cafeteria, to be ignored. She hates the thought of Quinn having to go through the same thing.

And as her fingers press down on the black and white keys of an electric keyboard, demonstrating how well Rachel can play her scales for her midterm exam, her mind automatically goes to Quinn and how sad she looked when telling Rachel that she no longer played piano.

After acing her midterm, Rachel is dismissed early, and it's with determined steps she begins her march up University Place, hoping to find Quinn in her usual morning spot. Her lips involuntarily curve up into a smile when she catches sight of tufts of pink hair, and she quickens her pace.

"Hi again," Rachel says a little breathlessly as she comes to a stop next to Quinn.

"Hi," Quinn replies, looking up at her with pleasant surprise from her seat on the sidewalk. "What are you doing here? Don't you usually have class right now?"

"Yes, but I got out of my Keyboard class early today," she explains, shifting on her feet a bit and growing uncharacteristically nervous, "and I was wondering… would you like to join me for lunch?"

Quinn looks at her, surprised. "Sure, but, uh…" her gaze shifts down to the cup in her hands. "I don't really have much cash, so…"

"No, my treat," Rachel clarifies, and Quinn's head shoots up, eyes wide, causing Rachel to smile.

"I…"

"Come on, I'm hungry, and I have class in less than two hours."

"Okay," Quinn agrees with a small smile, before getting up from the sidewalk and gathering her things. Rachel watches Quinn as she carefully folds up her coat and tucks it between the straps of her black backpack before slinging the bag over her back and slipping her arms through it.

They then make the short walk to Eva's, a cozy restaurant just around the corner that conveniently accepts Campus Cash. So, okay, technically, it will be Rachel's dads' treat, but Quinn doesn't need to know that. As they walk, Rachel occasionally chances a glance at her companion, feeling strangely excited by the prospect of getting to actually spend time with her. She's still so curious about Quinn.

The host seats them, and Rachel doesn't miss the distasteful look he gives Quinn, who levels him with a glare so fierce that Rachel hopes she's never on the receiving end of it.

Fortunately, their waitress is much more pleasant, and she patiently waits for them to make a decision on what they'd like. Rachel orders the Vegetarian Combination Super Salad. She tells Quinn to order whatever she wants, but she still hems and haws over it, obviously not wanting to get something too pricey. Finally, after some more insistence from Rachel, Quinn settles on the sirloin burger.

"I seriously can't thank you enough for this," Quinn says after the waitress takes their menus, her hazel eyes shining with awed disbelief.

"It's really no problem," Rachel replies with a smile, taking a moment to observe Quinn. She wonders if she's imagining it, but she thinks Quinn maybe has gained a bit of weight in the last month. However, she's still way too thin, in Rachel's opinion.

Quinn fidgets under Rachel's scrutinizing gaze, and heat flushes tanned cheeks as she realizes she's been staring longer than is appropriate. She clears her throat and looks away for moment, taking a sip of her water before looking back across the table.

"So, what made you decide on pink hair?" Rachel asks as they continue to wait for their food, figuring it to be a safe topic.

"It's better than being blonde. Draws too much unwanted attention from guys. It doesn't matter that I'm… well, you know, homeless," she says, looking a little embarrassed as she gestures down at her clothing. "Blonde hair is a beacon for douchebags."

Rachel frowns at the thought of Quinn being harassed. "Is blonde your natural color?"

Quinn nods. "Yeah, but I prefer this. Good thing the stuff I use is cheap and easy to apply," she adds with a wry grin.

Rachel can't help a smile of her own. "I prefer it too. It suits you."

"Thanks," she replies almost bashfully, her cheeks matching her hair as she rubs the back of her neck. She gazes thoughtfully at Rachel then. "Have you ever thought about dying your hair? I think you'd look good with blue streaks."

Rachel laughs a little and shakes her head. "No, I haven't. My best friend, Kurt, keeps insisting that I try the ombre look, but I don't know."

Quinn's eyes narrow in thought, as if she's trying to picture Rachel with said hairstyle. "You could probably pull it off. But I like you with dark hair."

Their waitress returns then with their food, placing Rachel's salad and Quinn's burger on the table before asking them if there's anything else they need. Rachel tells her that they're good, and once again they're left alone.

"I hope you don't mind, but I'd like to ask you a personal question," Rachel says, unable to rein in her curiosity any longer.

Quinn tenses slightly, but she agrees. "You can, but I hope you understand that I might not want to answer it."

"Where's your family? Your parents?"

Hazel eyes briefly flash with what Rachel can only describe as anger. "Ohio, probably," she says. "I don't know though. I haven't seen them in almost five years."

"Oh," Rachel replies lamely and frowns, not sure what to say as she watches Quinn start to eat her burger and decides that she should do the same with her own meal.

She thinks it's incredibly sad that Quinn doesn't see her family anymore, and she wonders what happened. Still, she can tell that whatever it was isn't good, and that Quinn probably doesn't want to talk about it—even though she's dying to know.

But after a few moments of eating her salad, it hits Rachel that Quinn hasn't seen her family in five years. "How old are you, Quinn?"

"Twenty-two," she replies after she finishes swallowing, taking Rachel by surprise. She hadn't thought Quinn was that much older than her. "You?"

"Seventeen."

Quinn's brow furrows slightly as she looks at Rachel, clearly puzzled. "I thought you were eighteen."

"I will be soon. December 18th to be exact. I'm just really young for my class, but my dads felt I could handle it and didn't want to me hold me back another year."

"Wait, dads? As in more than one?"

Instinctively, Rachel feels her defenses rise a bit, even though there's nothing in Quinn's tone or expression that indicates fear or disgust. But she's proud of her family, and she's always quick to defend it. "Yes, I have two gay dads, and I was born out of love."

"That's cool," Quinn says, holding her hands up in surrender. "Believe me, I have no problem with that. At all. It would be a little hypocritical of me if I did."

The pieces suddenly click into place. "So you're…" she trails off, not wanting to assume a label.

"Gay," Quinn finishes with a quirk of her lips, before taking another bite of her burger.

Rachel doesn't know why that revelation causes an excited fluttering in her belly, but she tries to ignore it, instead opting to prod Quinn for more information about herself.

"Where do you sleep at night? Are you staying at a shelter?"

"No, I don't like shelters," Quinn explains with a shake of her head, her entire demeanor shifting and becoming more guarded. "I have my spots," is all she offers. "But enough about me," she says with a dismissive wave of her hand before smiling again at Rachel. "I wanna know more about you. Tell me about your classes, where you're from, all that good stuff."

Rachel can't help but worry a little about Quinn's response, but she lets it go for now, figuring it's only fair to share something about herself. She spends the rest of her meal telling Quinn about how she's been training for the stage all her life, but that even though she loves musical theater, she does listen to things besides show tunes. Quinn listens attentively, and Rachel is surprised by her genuine interest.

After paying for the check with her NYU card, Rachel leads Quinn back outside, feeling a little bummed that their time together has come to an end. Quinn fiddles with the straps of her backpack as she gazes appreciatively at Rachel, once again thanking her for lunch.

"Thank you for joining me," Rachel counters. "I liked getting to spend some time with you. I hope we can do it again."

Quinn just looks at her in amazement. "I don't know what to do with you, but again, thank you."

Rachel finds comfort in routines, and she likes to think that her daily visits with Quinn offer a modicum of comfort to her as well, despite the fact that living on the street is far from comfortable.

Unfortunately, Rachel's schedule over the next week only allows her to take Quinn out for lunch one more time. This time they go to Cosi, which isn't far from Quinn's spot on University. Rachel orders a hummus and veggie sandwich for herself and a turkey and brie sandwich for Quinn, who has commandeered a table for them in the corner of the restaurant.

As Rachel makes her way over to their table with a tray of food, she doesn't miss the judgmental and pitying looks shot in Quinn's direction by some of the patrons. Although, if Rachel's being honest, despite Quinn's rundown appearance, when not begging on the street, she looks like she could just be a student who isn't overly fond of showering.

Dozens of questions flood Rachel's mind then—most involving wondering how Quinn takes care of her daily needs. It's obvious that she does maintain some degree of hygiene, however limited.

"You have that look on your face," Quinn says with a touch of amusement as Rachel takes her seat.

"What look?" Rachel asks, handing Quinn her plate.

"The one that says you want to ask me something," she explains. "So go ahead, you can ask me whatever you want. Considering all you've done for me, sating your curiosity is the least I can do."

Rachel blushes a little at how obvious she is. "Okay then. Take me through a day in your life."

Quinn raises an eyebrow in response, but she does as Rachel asks. "I wake up, find a bathroom if possible… if not," she looks away momentarily, rubbing the back of her neck in a gesture Rachel is growing familiar with, and Rachel almost feels bad for asking. "I try to freshen up as much as I can. I have a small supply of toiletries in my bag. Then, well, you see me most mornings. I try to gather enough money to get me through the day."

"What do you spend your money on—besides food, that is?" Rachel asks.

"Toiletries, laundry, subway fares, clothes. But mostly it's food, which lately hasn't been as much of a stressor thanks to you," Quinn replies, gazing at Rachel gratefully. "And, well, you know I like to read. So if I have any money leftover, I'll buy myself a used book. Or sometimes, I can trade one in for another."

Rachel doesn't know how she does it. She doesn't know what she would do in Quinn's position. She still doesn't even really know how she got to be in this position.

"You said your family's probably in Ohio," she says, her food totally forgotten as she shifts forward in her seat. "Is that where you're from, or did you grow up here and they left you behind?"

"I'm from Ohio," Quinn clarifies. "I first came to New York when I was seventeen. Things weren't good at home," she confesses, lowering her voice and averting her gaze, and Rachel doesn't miss how her right hand fists into her napkin. "So I ran. New York felt like it was far enough away that my father couldn't find me, but it also seemed like the perfect place to start over. No one knew me, and I could be anything I wanted to be." She lets out a small, bitter laugh before looking back up at Rachel. "At least, that's what I thought. It was a stupid, romantic notion," she says with a slight roll of her eyes. "The reality was that I couldn't afford to live here, and even if I could, I was a kid on the run, so I had to lay low. I couldn't do anything that involved paperwork, you know?"

All Rachel can do is nod, feeling her heart break all over again for Quinn.

"I burned through my money really fast, and that fall and winter was a crash course in living on the street. It sucked—it still sucks—but I wasn't going back. I couldn't."

Rachel's heart pangs in sympathy. "You would rather have been cold and hungry than live under your parents' roof?"

Quinn smiles bitterly. "Yeah, that about sums it up. I know it probably sounds weird, but at least I felt like I had some control over my life and what happened to me," she explains before finally digging into her meal.

Rachel wants to ask more about her family, about her father, if she left any friends behind, but she can't bring herself to do it, not wanting to dredge up what would obviously be painful memories. So instead she asks, "So you've been living on the street for the last five years?"

Quinn shakes her head as she finishes chewing and swallowing, but there's a flash of resentment in her eyes. "Not the entire time," she replies. "I used to go to parties with kids I met in the parks, and I would often crash wherever it was being hosted. I became kind of friendly with a couple of people. But they weren't exactly good people, if you know what I mean," she continues, not bothering to hide her animosity. "But I had a roof over my head for awhile. I even had a job waitressing at a diner. And then everything went straight to hell," she finishes before taking another bite of her sandwich.

"I'm sorry," Rachel says.

Quinn shrugs, but there's a look of defeat in her eyes, and Rachel hates if she's somehow inadvertently put it there by asking Quinn about her past. For the millionth time, she wishes there was more she could do to help.

The end of October brings some sobering news. A hurricane is bearing down on the northeast, and warnings have been put in place throughout New York City. Rachel doesn't know what to expect—hurricanes aren't exactly common occurrences in Michigan—but she's a little nervous.

"It's just a bunch of hype," Dani says reassuringly from her seat on the bed as they watch the Weather Channel. Rachel is situated on her own bed, while Tina has occupied one of the desk chairs. "You know, people panic and buy up all the milk and bread and eggs at the store."

"Seriously, what is up with that?" Tina asks. "Is everyone making French Toast or something?"

Rachel and Dani laugh in response, before Dani continues. "Nothing's going to happen. Just like nothing happened when Irene hit last year."

"I think there are some people in New Jersey and Vermont who would disagree with you," Tina argues, grabbing her bag and placing it on Dani's desk. "But you're probably right that nothing will happen here. Still, it gives us an excuse to have a hurricane party," she finishes, pulling out a bottle of Boones and handing it to Rachel.

"I hope you guys are right," she says as she takes the wine, watching the wind pick up on her television screen as the clouds outside grow darker and rain starts to pelt against their windows.

Truthfully, she is more nervous about Quinn than she is about herself. Rachel hasn't seen her in a few days, and she has no idea where she's going to be during this storm. When the weather is lousy, she knows that Quinn often hops on a subway, but mass transit has been shutdown in preparation of the hurricane. Rachel prays that Quinn is someplace safe and not sleeping on a sidewalk as the wind outside begins to howl.