Well hello! Happy August! I hope the rest of the summer is treating everyone well! I bet you're surprised to see me back so soon, huh? When the ideas hit you, the ideas hit you I guess. I'll keep writing Finchel as long as you guys keep reading it! This one is happier, I promise. No one is going to die. No one is getting abused. Maybe a wee bit of angst...but that's kind of expected, right? This new story is exciting because it's melding a topic I have been toying with for a very long time, plus kind of combines what I think a lot of people are interested in ;). It's also kind of bittersweet because it's the first fic I'm writing on my brand new computer! Old faithful had to be put to rest :( - yes, I'm sentimental - is everyone when they have to spend loads of money to replace something? ANNNYWAY. I hope you all enjoy this story. I'm going to try my hardest to update as regular as possible but please be patient - I'm a store manager now and life is kind of insane sometimes. But I will try to be as on the ball as possible!

Anyway, as usual I don't own Finn, Rachel or anyone who has in any way appeared on Glee. They all belong to FOX and RIB. I do, however, own any original characters, the plot etc. Artistic license has been taken so...be kind. :) Oh, and I don't own Yale. Cause I just don't.

What About Now

Chapter One

Harper Richards pushed open the heavy door of her home and shivered against the blustery wind that followed in behind her. It was a beautiful fall day, despite the wind that clapped against her already flushed cheeks. She enjoyed fall usually, loved the falling leaves and the crunch of them under her boots once they hit the ground. But the nip in the air this year had arrived quickly and without a lot of build. Her alabaster white skin didn't seem to appreciate it either, with her cheeks reddening against the weather. She tossed her house keys down on the bench beside the double front doors, and her ankle boots and sweater coat followed quickly afterwards. The house was cloaked in a silence that wasn't unfamiliar; at this stage it was mostly comforting to come home to an empty house. The telltale tap of her puppy Samson met her ears, and a gentle smile graced her lips as the old dog came up beside her.

"Hey pup," she smiled as she patted the tall golden retrievers head. The dog looked up at her with wide, brown eyes. "Have a good day?" she smiled. The dog wagged his tail from side to side and the smile that had graced Harper's face widened. "You just slept all day I bet," she sighed as she righted herself and headed for the kitchen. Samson, for his part followed behind her dutifully. "Guess you want a treat," she sighed. "But not before I get mine." She reached into the cupboard and grabbed a glass before maneuvering to the refrigerator. She unearthed the freshly made orange juice her and her parents had gotten at the farmers market this past weekend and poured herself a healthy glass while Samson stared. When she put her glass down he tilted his head to look at her.

"You really know how to lay on the guilt," she chuckled. Instead of reaching into the fridge to grab herself an apple, she walked a few more steps to the left and took her time opening the pantry. She could feel Samson's eyes on her, and felt the thump of his tail against the tile. She kept the suspense going for a few moments before she turned around with the milk bone in between her fingertips. "Sit boy," she laughed. Samson did as she directed. "Good boy," Harper grinned as she gave him the bone. She washed her hands before she got her apple, and took a bite while her companion finished the bone. "Alright buddy, let's get you outside…" she smiled as she nodded towards the door. Samson sneezed his agreement as Harper chuckled, before opening the back door and letting him gallop outside. She shook her head as she watched the old pup run around the fenced in in ground pool. He always got frisky when the cooler air got to him, a memory that always came to her when the weather turned cool.

Harper let him back in once he had come clomping back to the back door. He was frisky, and for a moment danced around her legs while she stumbled to toss her apple core in the composter. "We'll go for a walk later," she laughed as he followed her into the den. Samson for his part seemed to understand, and found his bed next to the fireplace. Harper found her usual spot on the plush leather couch and picked up the remote to flip on the television.

She wasn't able to relax long, before the rumbling of the garage door opener shocked her from her otherwise comfortable position on the couch. She placed her hand on her heart, to calm the racing beneath her skin. She must have fallen asleep in the few minutes she had been laying there and she rubbed her eyes as her mother walked through the door of the garage. Her arms were laden with bags from the grocery shop she must have done after her work day ended.

"Need help?" she asked as she stood up and stretched.

Her mother, Diane chuckled a bit when she looked at her. "No, I've got them all…" she smiled. Instead of heeding what her mother had told her, Harper followed the taller brunette back into the kitchen.

"I'll help you put it away at least," she smiled as she started ruffling through the bags. Her eyes lit up when her eyes and hands landed on the bag of two bite brownies. Her mother slapped her hand gently.

"Don't," Diane laughed. "Those are for dessert, dinner first," the older woman chuckled. "Have…."

"Don't say have an apple," Harper laughed. "I already have…" she rolled her eyes and her mother nudged her gently.

"Then you're going to have to wait," she added with a laugh. "How was your day?"

Harper sighed.

"Same as always?" Diane questioned as she walked over the pantry and started to put some of the non-perishables she had purchased, in their designated spots.

"You know," Harper sighed while she picked at her nails. "Blah blah this is your senior year, watch your grades, yada yada yada."

Diane raised an eyebrow as she turned to her only daughter. "Senior year is so important. You should listen to that yada yada," she chuckled as she stacked a few bags of dry pasta.

Harper rolled her eyes. "Don't stress me out more, Mother," she laughed softly. Diane swatted at her as she walked passed her to get to the rest of the groceries.

"What's stressing you?" she asked as she held out the bag of grapes she had bought. She shook them slightly to encourage Harper to grab some. She shook her head.

"What isn't stressing me?" Harper answered as she jumped up and sat on the counter. Diane eyed her, but Harper appreciated when she didn't say anything. She leaned over and grabbed a few grapes and tossed one into her mouth. "You know, they're all talking up our college applications and all of that…as if there is any other place for me to go, but Yale," she sighed. She popped another grape in her mouth and chewed.

"You know how Dad and I feel about that," Diane sighed.

"How do you and I feel about what?" Her dad, Scott's voice filled the space as he walked into the kitchen and put his briefcase down on the counter.

Harper smiled as she watched her mother drop what she was doing and go to greet him at the table.

"You're home early!" She exclaimed as she rushed over and fussed with his jacket for a moment. Harper rolled her eyes but allowed a smile to cover her lips.

Her parents had always been like this, touchy feely, always loving on each other. It was easily one of the things she loved most about them.

"Meeting ended early, partners and I decided to allow everyone to get a head start on their weekend," Scott winked as he looked over at Harper.

"Harp, enjoying the view?" he laughed a little; a running joke about her habit of sitting on the counter. He obviously had missed whatever memo her mother was following. She quickly jumped down from the counter, but plucked another grape from the bag on the counter.

"Well, how about we take this opportunity and the three of us can go out for dinner?" her dad offered.

Harper perked up. "Can we get Chinese?" she grinned.

"Didn't we have that last week?" Diane protested. "And I just went grocery shopping."

"Come on Diane, live a little," Scott laughed. "I'll go change."

"Me too!" Harper grinned.

"I guess I'll put the rest of the groceries away myself," she grumbled as she turned back to the fridge.

Harper sipped on the lemonade she had ordered off the menu as she looked through the menu. She had been out voted, and some how they had ended up at an Olive Garden that wasn't too far from their house. She wasn't sure what she wanted, and the restaurant them around them was noisy while their table was in the typical silence that usually came with meals at their house.

"What you thinking about there Harp?" She picked her head up from the menu and looked across at him. "You going to get the fettucine alfredo like you always do?" he smiled.

"Not sure, think I feel like trying something new…just don't know what," she sighed.

"Everything okay?" he asked as he folded his own menu. Her father was predictable. She could pretty much tell anyone at any given time or restaurant which dish he would order. Olive Garden was usually the eggplant parmesan.

"Yeah," she took another sip of her lemonade. "Just a little stressed…" she sighed. She saw her parents exchange a look. "You know, school…"

"Right, the blah blah blah and yada yada you were telling me about while not helping me put away the groceries," her mom laughed while she sipped her wine.

"What can we do to help with that?" Scott asked.

"I don't know," Harper sighed. Their waitress appeared and asked about their orders. She dropped her eyes to her menu. She decided in the last minute to just go with her old favourite – just as her dad ordered some cheese ravioli dish off the menu instead of his usual.

Once the waitress was gone, both her parents had eyes back on her.

"College admissions," Harper said softly. "It's all they can talk about. The semester has barely started and their ramming it down our throats about due dates and applications and essays and…it's frustrating because I know what I want. I want to go to Yale. I want to go there and study Psychology and that is that," she said with finality.

Both of her parents looked at each other, and then looked at her. Scott was the first to speak. "Yale. You're completely sold on Yale. In Connecticut," he said slowly. Harper looked directly at her father. "You're so certain. Do you have a back up?" he asked.

Her father was a planner. Always had been, it was the only way Harper knew him to be. He worked as a financial planner throughout her entire life.

She remembered with fondness how scheduled their few drives to Disney World had been when she was smaller. She knew she shouldn't be shocked that he was asking about a second plan. But Yale was the plan. Always had been since they visited the campus during a summer vacation to visit family in the state it resided. It was his fault really, he had bred the dream. She had jut run with it.

"It's what I've been working for all these years," she whispered. "I don't really need a back-up plan. Do I?" she turned to her mother.

"You should always have a plan b," her mother sighed. It was a phrase that often echoed through their home.

"But I don't have one," she blew out a breath.

"So we need to make one. But that doesn't mean we should give up on Yale. Yale is the Hail Mary," her dad winked. He took a sip of his own drink, an iced tea with extra lemon before he turned to her mother to inquire about something that had happened at the dentist office she worked at.

Harper dragged her feet as she followed her parents into the house. She felt so enormously full, and she was serious regretting her choice in dessert. Fudge stuffed brownie topped with vanilla ice cream. She loved sweets, but as she cradled her stomach and wished she had worn leggings or yoga pants to dinner, she tried to remember why.

"You going to make it, kid?" her Dad joked as she kicked off her shoes and they hung up their jackets, in scary tandem.

"Shouldn't have had dessert. Why did you let me have dessert?" she whined.

"Didn't you know that desserts are just the universal answer to all of life's stresses?" Scott smiled. "Stressed spelled backwards is…"

"….just desserts," Harper playfully rolled her eyes. "You need new material dad. Don't you have all that free time to come up with new jokes since you hired that guy who's young enough to be your son?" she mimicked a snippet of their dinner conversation. Her Dad gently tried to swat her with the closest item, some hanging decoration her mother had placed on the handle of the hallway closet. She jumped out of the way just in time.

"Don't you have homework to start?" he called as she started to walk away.

"It's Friday!" she called back as she made her way for the stairs and started to climb the long case.

Harper made her way up to her room and closed the door slowly once she reached it. The room was large, and instantly brought her a kind of comfort she had long associated with the room. It had been different colours over the years, a soft pastel pink through her toddlerhood, a lavender during her elementary school years and now the walls boasted a soft blue that she associated with a perfect spring day. Her parents had given her many freedoms over the years, repainting and rearranging for hours sometimes until she was happy. The room itself used to be two separate rooms, but upon learning they had been chosen as her parents, they had soon begun the process of renovating to make it into the room she has now.

She was adopted from birth. Actually, according to the stories her parents had told her over and over again from the time she could ask for them; they had actually begun the adoption process before her birth and was completed by the time she was three months old. She had never really given it much thought aside from the times she had asked about her birth and how she came to be with them. Being adopted, she felt, had never defined her as a person. She had love, support, a caring set of parents and an often rowdy extended family she didn't see often enough. Sure, she and her mother shared few similarities outside of the hair colour they shared, they both loved volleyball and basketball – sports her mom had loved when she was younger, and had passed to her. Her father was the anomaly, the planner – he had strawberry blond hair and fair skin, something she used to identify as their striking similarity. She also liked to think she learned her passion for music from him, he played in a band for years and had been the one to first put her beloved guitar in her hands. She couldn't dance and could carry just a bit of a tune.

After a reflective moment, Harper slid into the cushioned chair she used at her desk. Her trusty Mac laptop sat on the surface, taunting her for a few long moments before she lifted the lid. The screen came to life the moment it was upright; a collage of photos from the summer served as her screen paper. It never failed to bring a smile to her face, the pictures she had chosen. She had had a fun summer, despite the long hours she put in working at a 'only open in the summer time' drive-in theatre as a concession worker. Some of her friends had been friends since she was a baby, some from the neighbourhood and some from school. All of them knew her story, all of them knew she was adopted – but no one ever treated her differently. She was a little envious sometimes, because most of her friends had siblings. But she tried not to let it get her down, because her family was perfect in its own way.

She clicked to open the internet, and leaned forward once the screen loaded. Her conversation with her parents over dinner had gotten her mind rolling, and as much as she denied it – she really should have a back up plan for school. As much as it pained her to admit, despite the fact that she thought her grades and extra curriculars were good enough, there was still the chance that Yale might not think so. She had gone over and over the guidelines, had met with her guidance counselor a few times, and she knew her anxieties about her applications were well matched. In every appointment Mr. Harris had tried to gently persuade her to pick a second choice and it wasn't until now that she finally conceded.

Mr. Harris had given her the names of colleges to think over, and while she didn't like the idea of being too far away from her family she began her search at the top of the alternative list – starting with Ohio State University.

She had to admit the campus was beautiful. It wasn't large and surely didn't compare to Yale but it was pretty in its own right. The psychology program seemed strong, as she followed the links to find out more about the program. She felt like she had gone down a rabbit hole of information as she followed through. She went down the list of suggested schools until finally she went back to Yale. She knew the website and the Psychology pages like the back of her hand. She had spent hours pouring over the pages, cross referencing and making sure she had everything they needed. She knew applications opened in a few weeks, but she still took a big breath when she saw the list of topics for entrance essays had been posted. She had been preparing for this, stalking blogs and coming up with practice questions.

But what she wasn't expecting, was one of the choices she was faced with.

Yale prides itself on being a strong historical institution with extensive origins. Our roots go date back to the 1700's. Reflect on your own roots and origins and discuss how they have made you the person you are today and what makes you stand out.

Harper sat back in her chair and let out a long sigh. This was a new one, a different question. None of the spots online had listed anything that was similar. She chewed her lip, and she began to scroll through the other options on the site. But her eyes and fingers kept scrolling back to the option about roots and origins. She focused in on the option, and crossed her arms over her chest as she hid her hands in the sleeves of the sweater that she was wearing.

She quickly closed the lid of the computer and leaned back in the chair with her head resting on the top, where the cushioning was softest. Her mind was running with so many thoughts. She wanted to stand out at Yale. She wanted to stand out, she wanted more than anything to be accepted to her dream school.

A knock sounded at the door that brought her out of her thoughts, and she wiped at her eyes to wake herself up a little.

"Harp? We're going to watch a movie, want to join us?" her dads voice came through the wood of the door. She stood up and went to the door. "I've convinced your Mom to watch a super scary movie….you in?' he smiled. Harper laughed a little. He looked so proud of himself. Scary movies were something both she and her father shared, and her mother despised.

"Sure…" she smiled softly.

"If you're too tired you don't have to."

She shook her head. "No, I want to," she smiled. "Just found the essay topics were posted…"

Her father nodded with a knowing shrug. "Well, don't worry about it right now, let's go scare the pants off your Mother. She's even letting us have M&M's in our popcorn," he winked.

Harper chuckled. "Let me put my pajamas on."

Scott nodded and turned to leave the entrance to her room to go back downstairs. Harper turned back into her room and tried to push down the feeling that was bubbling in her stomach.