"So Quinn…"

"Brodyyyy," Rachel groaned. "It's three in the morning now. How many more questions are you going to ask me?"

"Hey, Rach. You called me out on being intense. This is what you get."

"A full-fledged Quinn interrogation—lamp and all?" Rachel asked, clearly annoyed.

Brody couldn't resist. "Yup, a 'quinnterrogation.'"

"That's enough! Out. Of. My. Room," said Rachel through her teeth as she tried to push him off her bed.

"Alright alright, one more question and I'll leave."

"I've already told you all about our long and complicated Finn/Quinn/Rachel triangle. What other questions are there?"

"One more. You talked all about your past with her. But how about the present? Have you spoken to Quinn since she's been at Yale? What has she been up to?"

"I…I don't know."


"The Bard of Avon! Shit wow. Can you believe this, Sam? In just three months time, we'll be up on the Rep stage performing one of Shakespeare's greatest works. William. Shakespeare. The greatest writer the western world has ever seen."

"Quinn, I'm in just as much shock as you are. I'm only a sophomore. I didn't think I'd get a lead role until my junior year. And you're only a freshman—a fantastic actress—but still just a freshman."

"Fuck."

"What?"

"Sam, I'm only a freshman. Fuck. The rest of the cast, the entire theater department, every single theater major. Oh shit, they're all gonna hate me…"

"Quinn, calm down. No one could eve—"

"They'll all judge me and hate me. Why would Jeff cast me as Helena?" Quinn started nervously biting her nails. Sam thought it was one of her cutest habits. That and the lip biting. But she also knew it was a sure sign of Quinn's mind was running in circles.

"Sam, is this some kind of freshman hazing prank? What is it—cast the shittiest freshman in a lead role and watch them make a fool of themselves? Is that what this is?! Oh god I knew I was never cut out for Yale—"

"Fabray!"

"Huh?" Quinn stopped biting her nails, but looked away distractedly.

"Look at me," Sam said, grabbing Quinn's face between her hands. Quinn blushed. "That's better. Now listen to me. This isn't a prank. We would never do that, you should know that. Plus, Yale has some crazy anti-hazing rules in place, so that'd basically be impossible. Also, I would never let something like that happen to you," she brushed her thumbs across Quinn's cheekbones.

"You earned this role fair and square. You deserve this role. You're the best Helena there could be and you're the best freshman to walk through those theater doors in god knows how long. You've proven yourself. Don't worry about everybody else, because if anyone does doubt you, I'll kick their ass."

Quinn stood up from the theater steps and pulled Sam into a tight hug.

"Oh Hermia, it's too bad Helena doesn't get to fall for you," she whispered into Sam's ear. Then, Quinn pulled away and smirked, "then again Dr. Clark did make us read an essay on homoerotic subtext in A Midsummer Night's Dream and I do recall some mention of Helena and Hermia's relationship."

"You and your literature courses, Fabray," Sam laughed. "Come on, whose place tonight? Yours or mine?"

"It's Thursday, which means we're in luck and that Julia's gone home for the weekend. Plus, we've got some celebrating to do."

Quinn stopped suddenly and turned to Sam. She noticed the dark look in Quinn's hazel eyes, and leaned forward. Their lips met and both girls felt warm in the early November night air.

"Wow, Quinn they oughta give you lead roles more often. You never kiss in public."

"Well maybe if we were actually dating…" Quinn mumbled.

Sam chose to ignore it, "I can't stay late though. I've got work tomorrow morning."

"Yeah, I know," she said dismissively.

Quinn swiped the two of them into her dorm. Donnelly Hall was the same dorm Sam had lived in last year and coincidentally where Quinn and Sam first met.

Back in August, Sam had volunteered to help with Freshman Week. She was put on the move-in team for Donnelly. Carrying boxes up flights of stairs for seven consecutive hours on the hottest day in August and watching happy families say tearful goodbyes had made Sam annoyed and frustrated. She was thankful that the day was over and she could finally sit down and breathe. That lasted about thirty seconds. Sam couldn't help from wondering what idiotic freshman shows up for move-in at 4:15 when move-in was clearly scheduled for 8-4. She angrily grabbed a box marked Fabray 403 from the girl's trunk and carried it up to the room. She wanted to get this finished with as quickly as possible, and apparently so did all the other volunteers because by the time she got back down to the car for the second box, it turned out to be the last of the girl's possessions. Sam took her time carrying up this last box, but stopped suddenly outside 403. She heard yelling coming from within.

"Mom, listen I'm grateful for you driving me all the way from Ohio, but please can you just leave?!"

"Quinn, I will not be disrespected like that!"

Sam couldn't help from thinking what a cute name Quinn was for a girl. She had a friend back home with a brother named Quinn, but she'd never heard it used as a girls name. She liked it.

"Mom, I'm not disrespecting you! I just don't want to deal with one of your fake tearful goodbyes! I told you, I'm starting college anew. I want to be who I'm really meant to be! So, I don't need any fakeass—"

"Language, Quinn!"

"—Fabray tears here, Mom. So let's just go our separate ways. I'll check in every month or so, update you on classes and general school stuff. And that'll be that. Okay?"

"Then that's that."

The door opened suddenly and Sam was so startled that she dropped the box she'd been holding.

Mrs. Fabray shot her a look that could kill and simply muttered, "that god forsaken hotel better have a bar because I'm going to need a gin and tonic."

The older woman knelt down and picked up Quinn's sheets, which had fallen out of the box. She stood back up, carefully folding the sheets and handing them back to Sam, she said, "Make sure she makes her bed, will you?"

And with that, Mrs. Fabray turned on her heel and left.

Sam found herself feeling sorry and concerned for this Quinn Fabray. She too had her own complicated family history. So, she picked up the box, walked into 403 with a smile on her face and reached out her hand.

"Hi, I'm Sam McCullough. You're gonna love Donnelly. I lived here last year."

From that moment, Sam and Quinn became close friends. They grabbed lunch everyday. Sam told Quinn all the ins and outs of Yale. They started going to all the theater parties together. Sam could still remember the party when the two girls became more than friends.

They were getting ready together, as usual, and Sam suddenly decided that she could trust Quinn. She told her flat out that she was gay. Quinn blushed for a brief moment, but then replied with a smile, "that's cool, my best friend from home is gay too. She's dating my other best friend. It's actually really adorable."

They got to the party and Quinn seemed more physically relaxed around Sam. In fact, she was hanging all over Sam for the majority of the night. Anyone else in the room would've probably assumed they were dating. The party ended and as always, Sam walked Quinn back to Donnelly. She felt the need to thank Quinn for being such a good friend.

"Hey, Quinn. Before you go in, I just wanted to thank you for being so cool about before."

Quinn pulled her into an unexpected hug and whispered "of course." She pulled away and looked into Sam's brown eyes.

"You know I dated a Sam once." Sam couldn't hold back. There was something in the way Quinn said it. It lured her in. So she kissed her.

And that was that.

But here she was in Donnelly 403 once again, and suddenly Sam felt smothered. She was falling. She couldn't fall again. Not after last time. So, she decided to stop things before she fell too hard.

Quinn closed the door to her room and pulled Sam to her. She ran her fingers through Sam's short brown hair. Sam shivered. She had to do this right. She had to do it kindly. She pulled Quinn's arms around her neck.

"Quinn…" she said, looking seriously into those intoxicatingly hazel eyes.

"Sam, what's wrong?"

"Listen, I think we should slow things down…"

A million different emotions flashed across Quinn's face. It settled on anger.

"Slow things down? What the fuck is there to slow down, Sam? We're not even dating!"

"I'm not ready to—"

"And don't you dare pull that bullshit excuse of not being ready to date again! Fuck, are you ever going to get over your ex, Sam?!"

Sam felt a pang of hurt. "It's not her…"

"Then what is it?"

"It's just," Sam searched her mind for an excuse. She hated lying but she needed to do this for herself. And she figured it might help Quinn in some way. "Well, it's the show. I'm worried Quinn, about what you said earlier."

"What the fuck—"

"Just hear me out okay," she held Quinn's hands in hers. "People aren't going to hate you because you're going to blow them out of the water with your performance. I'm certain of that. I just think you need to be absolutely certain with your performance. You need to absolutely embody Helena."

"What are you even suggesting?"

"Well through out all of Midsummer, Helena is dealing with a crippling unrequited love for Demetrius…"

"I know Sam, I've read the fucking play," Quinn said, her eyes still swimming with anger.

"Well, I think you should get in touch with that emotion. To really understand Helena."

"So you're fucking 'slowing things down' so I can have a taste of unrequited love. Wow Sam, that's fucking presumptuous. Do you really think I'm in love with you?"

Sam felt her heart lurch.

"No…no I don't. I'm saying we should slow things down so you can meditate on that. A little bit of method acting, so to say. There must've been someone in your past, Quinn. A former crush? I know you mentioned, what was her name? Rachel."

Quinn's face flashed a million and one emotions, once again. Instead of settling on one in particular, she looked away and began biting her nails. Sam proceeded with caution; she knew she was treading on dangerous ground.

"Quinn, I'm not saying we end things all together. Let's just see where slowing things down takes us? Just watch, I'm one hundred percent sure you're Helena portrayal will be Oscar worthy. I'm gonna go, okay?"

Quinn didn't respond. Sam walked out of the room and closed the door behind her. She sighed and proceeded to make the long, cold walk back to her dorm.

Back in 403, Quinn methodically got ready for bed. She washed her face with ice-cold water, brushed her teeth and put on her pajamas. She tried reading but couldn't get through even a paragraph of her book. She tried writing in her journal but couldn't think of what to write. So, she just turned off the light and let her mind wander in the dark.

She knew she should be upset over Sam, upset over whatever the hell that semi-breakup was. But Sam wasn't the name that was circling in her head. The name that was, was Rachel. She kept seeing flashes of long brown hair, and then she'd suddenly think of hugging Rachel and burying her face in that long brown hair and being engulfed by the scent of sunshine and morning grass. Quinn was certain of one thing. Helena never knew unrequited love like Quinn did. She felt tears on her cheeks, but willed herself to sleep before she could cry.

Meanwhile, just eighty miles away, that very same Rachel typed out a facebook message and hit send.

"I'll show you, Brody," she muttered before turning off her light and going to bed.


A/N: First, thank you all so so much for the response to the first chapter! Secondly, sorry for the delay! Had to move back in to school, get used to classes, interviews, and all that jazz! Let me know what you all think about this chapter. It took a bit more thought and planning. I'll try to update weekly from here on out!