Rachel is trying. She is smiling the demure grin that she's perfected over these past two years because today is the first day of school and she is starting it off with her beginning choir class. The room is bursting at the seams, the risers with only enough space for thirty students are protesting under the excitement of nearly forty five freshmen, all of whom are here to collect their mandatory arts credit for graduation.

The bell rings and some of the students at least pretend to settle down, some continue on chatting, blatantly ignoring the authority she's trying to project.

"Everyone take your seats please, and we'll begin."

"Hey Ms!" One tall boy in the back of the room yells, "There ain't enough seats for us all."

"Right." Rachel gives the boy an appraising look, in her first year of teaching, the comment would have had her completely knocked off track, now she just smiles, "Feel free to utilize the extensive floor space."

There is a murmur as the students settle in, "My name is Ms. Berry, I just have a few classroom rules to go over and then we'll get started!"

The rest of her morning passes in the usual flurry of activity, but she is soon able to escape quickly to the safety of the teacher's lounge for lunch. She slides into a seat at her typical table beside Kurt, a freshman english teacher.

She takes one glance at his vaguely annoyed expression and chuckles, "That bad, huh?"

"Worse." He replies, crunching harshly into his salad, "I swear they're teaching them less and less at that middle school each year."

Rachel hums in sympathy, their school was one of the lowest achieving in the district.

"Besides, the school board has had this genius idea that they want freshmen reading poetry. Do you know how much freshmen hate poetry?"

"How much?" Rachel asks with a smile.

"So much!" Kurt half whines, "Thank god for contemporary poets, there's this one lesbian poet whose work is absolutely amazing, god I might change teams for her."

Rachel laughs, "Wouldn't help, you still won't have a shot if she's a lesbian."

"A boy can dream." He is quiet for a moment while they both eat, "Maybe you could just marry her for me." He offers only half joking.

"I'll consider it. In the meantime, I've got to talk to principal Figgins and see if I can get more chairs for my room."

"You mean they gave you even more students than last year?"

Rachel nods gravely, "My intro choir class has hit a record high enrollment. I'd be excited if it wasn't just because they cut the art department budget so there aren't as many drawing courses and I'm taking the overflow."

"Take the wins where you get them." Kurt smiles.

Rachel's days bleed together. She teaches kids who don't want to be there anymore than she wants to force them to be there, she stays after school for glee club practices, and play rehearsals, she gets volunteered for fundraisers and extra detention shifts and the PTA because she is one of the newer teachers.

She goes home to her small apartment on the top floor of a dilapidated building. She cooks with fresh food that makes her apartment bright, and she does her laundry every Tuesday night. She is amazed that the machines in the basement haven't given out so far.

She isn't where she thought she would be, but she knows that what she's doing now is so important.

On Wednesday Quinn decides to surprise Jen at work because she was a monster for the past couple of weeks while her book underwent last minute change after last minute change. It's not the first time that she's stopped by the law firm where Jennifer works during the day, but normally the brunette knows that she's coming.

She adjusts the coffee cups and pushes the elevator button for the sixth floor, tapping her foot impatiently while the lift moves. When it stops she checks Jennifer's office and frowns upon finding that it's empty. She wanders down the hall a bit until she finds one of the interns she recognizes from the last office party that Jennifer had talked her into.

"Hey, Tim!" She says, making the law student jump, "Do you know where Jen is?"

"I think I saw her headed towards the copy room." He offers, "Down the hall past the bathrooms on the left."

"Thanks."

Quinn takes her time walking down the hall until she sees the door with a plaque which reads 'Copy Room'. She opens the door with her elbow and stops short.

Jennifer is inside, just like the intern had said she would be, but she's not alone. She's attached at the lips to a redhead Quinn vaguely recognizes as one of the lawyers in the firm. They spring apart when the door hits the opposite wall, both whipping towards the entryway.

Jen has the guiltiest expression on her face and for some reason it's weirdly satisfying to Quinn that at least she has the decency to look guilty, "I brought you a coffee, I just wanted to thank you for being such a great supportive girlfriend this past month." Quinn says venomously.

The redhead's expression grows incredulous, "Girlfriend? You told me you broke up with her!"

Jennifer stalls out for a moment, trying to find a reply, "I know, and it's just-"

"Save it." The redhead says, storming from the copy room.

Jennifer shoots a lingering look at Quinn before leaving the room too, "Monica, please let me explain."

Quinn is frozen for a minute. She has an urge to destroy something, she drops the two coffee she's holding in the trashcan beside the door and before she can think better of it, she pulls her right arm back and rockets it at the wall.

The drywall seems to laugh back at her while she cradles her newly aching hand and slinks from the office.

Carla calls her later to ask about inviting her old editor to the party, within the first thirty seconds of the phone call she knows that something is wrong.

"What's happened?" Carla demands.

"It's nothing."

"You're a terrible liar." Carla accuses, "I'm coming over."

"No, you don't have to bother."

"Too late, I'll be there in twenty minutes, make yourself decent."

Carla hangs up before Quinn can try to talk her out of coming. It takes barely over ten minutes for there to be a loud rap on her door. Quinn looks over her old sweats and t-shirt that she threw on after getting home from discovering Jennifer's infidelity and she decides that Carla's seen her in worse.

She opens the door to reveal her concerned agent, looking as put together as always despite it being nearly ten in the evening. Carla takes one look at Quinn and smiles, "You look like shit, Fabray."

"You always know what to say to make a girl feel special." The blonde sasses, standing aside so Carla can come into the apartment.

"So what's happened?" Carla asks, making her way through Quinn's apartment to the fridge. She pulls out a beer, "Want one?"

The blonde shakes her head at her agent, and goes back to her moping spot- the couch, "Make yourself at home."

Carla gets Quinn a beer anyway and drops beside her on the couch, "Now spill, what's wrong?"

"Jennifer cheated on me."

Carla takes the news in stride, "You can do much better than her. Just wait for your party this weekend, you'll have girls lining up out the door."

Quinn mopes, she knows that she's being insufferable but just for a little bit she doesn't want to have to be an adult, "I don't want a line of women. I just want one woman who's not going to screw half of New York while supposedly dating me."

"Oh honey." Carla sighs, patting Quinn's shoulder. She knows that being in two consecutive relationships that failed ultimately due to the lack of exclusivity from Quinn's partner must have really done a number to the girl, "On the bright side, your book is doing smashingly well."

Quinn manages a pathetic laugh and takes the extra beer that Carla had gotten from the fridge, "Well that's wonderful. Can we just call off the whole party thing? I'm not in the celebrating mood."

"Not a chance, kid." Carla smiles, standing from the couch. Having coaxed a laugh from Quinn, she knows that her work cheering the blonde up was successful, "Tell you what, I'll even bring the party to you. We can have it on the roof of your building, it'll be small and intimate, those literature buffs will eat that shit up."

"I don't know-"

"It'll be great." Carla interrupts with her usual confidence, "Assuming the whole building doesn't collapse." She adds, shooting a look at the exposed wiring in the living room, "I don't know why you insist on living in this pit, with what you made on this book alone you could afford a little brownstone in a better neighborhood."

Quinn smirks, glad for the distraction even if it's a conversation they've had before, "I've told you, I like the character of the building."

"Yeah, condemned trash pit is such a hot aesthetic these days."

"Get out of here, Weir." Quinn chuckles, shoving Carla towards the door.

"This party is happening whether you want it to or not, Fabray." She gives as a final warning before backing out of the apartment with a teasing grin in place.


A/N- Thanks for reading/ reviewing, more to come soon!