A/N: Eee, first and foremost thank you for the reviews and alerts and whatnot. I'm really glad you're liking this since Jesse and Rachel deserve to be liked. (Massively - but I think I'm a little biased.) I hope you enjoy this and as always, read, review and enjoy.

The next time she sees him, she's full of rage and hurt and anger. So she barges past him to let him know. She's not his for the taking, and now she never will be. He's walked away too many times, and that's why she won't let him in. Not now. She's never wanted to see Finn more but it's Puck who comes to her rescue, sweeping an arm around her shoulders and flicking a vulgar gesture in Jesse's direction.

"Think the punk might've got the message." Rachel hopes Puck is right.

Puck isn't right.

-StB-

He catches her as she walks home, spying her from across the street. It's almost stalking, how he always knows where'll she be. But she's just as guilty, because her mind is always wondering the same thing about him; she just doesn't have the guts to act upon it. And in some ways, she's thankful. "How are you?" It's a pleasant enough greeting, one that she still feels doesn't deserve an answer. Not after everything. She repeats her mantra over and over, I'm with Finn, I'm with Finn, I'm with Finn because when Jesse's around, time tends to lapse and she starts to remember what it was like being with him. And not Finn.

"I'm Finn - I mean fine, I'm fine." She clears her throat awkwardly and smoothes down non-existent creases in her blouse. "How are you?"

He doesn't answer, just offers her a glimpse of a smile. How can he answer, when he can't even concentrate without her name tarnishing his thoughts? He accidentally copies her and clears his own throat and she watches him warily, even more so as he reaches behind his back. If it's another egg, she swears this is the last time she trusts this anomaly in front of her (though she knows that's a lie – she'll trust him forever and that will always be her downfall.)

But she doesn't have to worry (yet), it's a letter, not an egg. He tries a smile again but it's so fleeting it's barely even there. He closes her fingers around it and then leaves. She watches after him wondering how he's managed to take her heart with him. Again.

-StB-

I'm writing this to you because I owe you that much.

She notices it's not addressed to her and instantly thinks this could have been written to anyone (that is until she skims down and sees her name in black and white. She imagines him chuckle as she pictures his raised eyebrow and that's when she knows she's still infatuated with him. Because he's not even there. She's just a cynic – with good reason - and he knows it.) The real reason however, is that he found 'Dear Rachel' too distant and a term of love or affection just didn't sit right on his tongue. So he went without. He was Jesse St James – he did what he liked.

If you're planning to screw this up, at least read it first. Because that way, it'll be like erasing the entire thing. Not reading this will only serve to play on your mind and then you'll never know what I had to say. The reason I so willingly hurt you was because I needed to feel hurt myself. Call it what you will but I had my reasons. But don't you see what that means? It just proves how much I'm into you, Rachel. You wounded my pride, something those boys who claim to love you don't know a thing about. Don't you see? What we have surpasses teenage crushes Rachel, what I feel for you is intense enough to make me write you this letter because I know you won't listen to me. And maybe I deserve that-

Screw you, St James, you definitely deserve it. But she reads on, like he knows she would.

But I would have loved for you to have placed at Regionals, Berry, I really would. Do you know why? Because then maybe people would have recognised you for what you are: a star. My star.

She's smart enough to know he's using his age to his advantage. Those extra years of studying, of writing, have given him a lyrical tilt which he puts to good use trying to woo her back. Try harder, Jesse is all she thinks, but she doesn't put the letter down, not once. (Not even after reading it seven more times.)

If you can't forgive me, please don't forget me. You'll only be hurting yourself if you do. And if you want to talk, well, you know where am I. And you know who I am, Rachel.

I'm yours.

It's so clichéd and so Jesse, and that's really her downfall. Because she was never really over him. Maybe she still isn't.