There is something she's forgotten. Something… It's not work-related. It's not school-related. Not exactly. There is something pricking at the back of her mind.
Rachel checks the to-do list on her phone. She has answered all pertinent emails, messages, texts. She has returned all voice mails. She has finished homework for the night. She has learned the choreography, the lines, and the lyrics.
And yet there's something she's omitting. A tickle in her mind. She looks through the things on her desktop. She looks through the things on her desk. She checks the drawers. Something's going to tell her what it is.
She throws herself on the bed and scrolls through her phone again. Talked with both dads recently. Okay. Check the old emails. Bingo. She starts humming A-Train without thinking about it.
The thing is—and she couldn't possibly expect someone in a regular drama program to understand—is that she has professional auditions, and callbacks, and voice, and dance, all in addition to her regular drama program and her core studies. Rachel's time is utterly and completely spoken for by NYADA. And when you add in the demands of rather demanding housemates—yes, housemates plural, thank you very much—boy trouble, and the weather for heaven's sake, how could anybody imagine she'd be able to take a weekend off?
The train pass tacked to the bulletin board comes into focus. She takes it down and examines it. It expires at the end of the month.
Really, she never should have accepted it. It was too much, too soon. She has to admit, though, that it was very attractive that Quinn Fabray, of all people, wanted—for that moment at least—to spend time with her, to be her friend (kind of).
But then Quinn never came to New York.
If she returns it now, maybe Quinn can get some money back from it.
That would be the right thing. Right?
She slides the pass into an envelope. She addresses it.
She sticks the stamp on.
She enters an item in her to-do list and checks it off.
Done.