Finn had dropped her off at Santana's apartment, letting Rachel knock on the door and have Santana answer it herself. Rachel didn't exactly hear his excuse as to why he had left so quickly, but she had managed to pick something out that sounded like Kurt or his parents were going to be home soon, and he wasn't supposed to be out, so he had to go home.

Rachel stands in front of the door to Santana's apartment, ringing her hands like she had been earlier, when she was standing above Finn in his bed and trying to explain her being in his life for a matter of time that she doesn't even know about. It's just as sudden for her as it's been for him. Rachel doesn't know why she had been plucked from obscurity and transported to the future and has met this boy – this very nice boy, who wants to take care of her.

She knows why she's here, but she doesn't. There's only been one other person she's known personally to make the leap, and he's told her that everyone goes for a specific purpose. Once you've found that purpose and accomplished whatever you're supposed to accomplish, you go back. She's frightened, though. If she goes back, won't she just be dead again? And if she doesn't go back, will she die again at such a young age? She's noticed that since she's been with Finn Hudson, she's back to her favorite age; eighteen. She smiles a bit as she thinks about when she was eighteen, and all of the excitement and success that happened to her then – will it happen to her again now? She wants someone to come and explain things to her, because she isn't sure how she's supposed to go home if she ultimately wants to. There has to be someone that knows. Someone else that's made the journey and is still here, in the future.

The present day, she corrects herself in her head with a small eye roll. Finn's told her already that she needs to stop calling it the future.

Rachel gives the front door to Santana's apartment a few gentle knocks, hearing someone mutter something behind the door in Spanish, she thinks. She never took the classes at the community center when they were offered, mainly because her mother said that they wouldn't have been necessary for a young woman. The same with driving. Her mother had always said that a lady will always have a man to drive her places, so Rachel never learned. She wants to, though, especially seeing Finn drive. She wants her own hands on the steering wheel and she wants to drive for what seems like forever. It's a ticket to freedom, being able to drive a car.

The door swings open and Rachel is greeted by a taller, slimmer girl than herself, dressed in a tight dress that ends just above her knee. Rachel compares it to her own dress and doesn't know if it's simply a fashion statement for the time that she's been in or if Santana's trying to dress like one of the street walkers that live in Hollywood. Rachel had been asked to play a street walker in a film once and she declined, knowing it would reflect badly on her character.

The girl with raven hair narrows her eyes as she looks Rachel up and down, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms over her chest. "So you must be Rachel, hmm?" Her voice is cutting; Rachel looking down at her shoes as she speaks. Santana chuckles to herself dishearteningly. "Hudson's secret snatch. Who would have thought."

"I'm sorry," Rachel pipes from the stance in front of Santana. "I can go, if you'd like, but I can assure you, I'm not pinned to Finn."

Santana looks at Rachel like she's got lobsters crawling out of her ears. She's never heard anyone with such an extensive vocabulary, or that dresses the way she does, for that matter. This Rachel Spielberg girl looks like she could have been plucked from the cast of West Side Story herself. Better for Quinn not to see her, she thinks to herself. She looks like she could be in a musical… or a movie, even. She doesn't look like a real person – at least not a real person from this decade.

"…Pinned?"

Rachel blinks at Santana, feeling her heart swell a bit. She knows she's not supposed to use terms from her time, but she doesn't know any better. They don't seem like terms to her, just regular colloquialisms that she uses. She's still unable to understand why Finn calls that small telephone with the television attached to it a cell phone, but yet at the same time Santana's unable to understand what 'pinned' means…? Her nerves begin to fray and her temper boils. It's just too bad that she doesn't understand how Santana's temper can out-boil hers any day.

"We aren't seeing one another. I'm just visiting his family for the summer." Santana keeps her eyes narrow and she refuses to let Rachel enter her home. Rachel looks at Santana with a small frown, shocked slightly. "I'm not from here, of course."

Santana looks at her and rolls her eyes, smiling a bit. She treats this like a game, and Rachel doesn't like it. "You're from Carmel, right?"

"…Right," Rachel eventually says, having to think about what Finn had told her in the car. She's really going to have to work on this whole 'blending in' concept. Maybe she can find an encyclopedia at the library and research the current time she's been placed in. That is, if libraries even exist anymore. Maybe they don't and everyone just manages to research everything they need to know in some other way, she thinks – although she can't begin to think about how they could possibly manage.

Santana slowly lets Rachel walk into her apartment and out of the hallway, Rachel's eyes wandering the room as she drinks it in. "It's not much," Santana says dishearteningly, closing the door and walking in behind Rachel. "And my parents aren't home yet, so it's not like I live here all alone." She pauses for a moment, running a hand through her hair. "That'll be fun when they get back. Explaining to them why I have a random girl living with us for the next four weeks." Rachel continues to walk into the small living room and Santana stops her, grabbing her by the shoulder and turning her to face her. Rachel looks at her and is surprised, spinning around with her hands resting against her lap, her eyes wide and face flushed.

"You don't have any bags with you?" Santana walks up to her so that she nearly corners her between the wall and the couch, hovering over her like some kind of domineering authority figure. Rachel knows that she's not supposed to be intimidated by anything Santana does, but she can't help it. This girl is strikingly beautiful, and looks like she can do some kind of damage to her if she wants to. Rachel racks her brain for some kind of answer as to why she doesn't have any baggage with her. She and Finn had never gone over that, and now she's seriously regretting it.

"Oh, mm-my parents are missionaries," she says quickly, almost forgetting what missionaries do for a living. "We don't b-believe in having that many worldly possessions, so I just m-move from town to town with what I have." Santana looks at her with skewed eyes, Rachel looking at her and selling her the lie as best she can. She can already tell that Santana's a smart girl. Lying to her seems like it might result in a punishment that will follow her around forever.

"Missionaries? So why aren't they with you?"

"I'm originally from Carmel," Rachel says, her mind refreshing. This is back to the track she and Finn had created together, and she's no longer nervous about her web of lies that she has to weave for this girl. "My parents, however, they're over in China. I didn't have anyone to stay with for the summer, and I certainly didn't want to go to China, so I was supposed to stay with your friend, Finn Hudson, but-"

"Wait," Santana interrupts, holding a hand up in front of Rachel's face. She seems somewhat less domineering than before, but Rachel still feels her heart race each time she cranes her neck up to take in a full view of the girl. "Hudson pawned you off to stay with me this entire summer?" She sighs deeply and Rachel can hear the resentment in her voice.

"Oh, don't worry about me. I'm a wonderful houseguest. You won't even know I'm here, I promise. " Rachel begins to think of all of the things she can offer to Santana that will make her like her more. "I could clean your house, and I know how to make a casserole that makes the ladies at my mother's socials absolutely wild, and-"

Santana looks at her again, furrowing her brow on her face. She takes in her outfit and the way she speaks and just shakes her head. Only Hudson would find some girl this prudish attractive, she tells herself, not taking her eyes off of Rachel. The smaller girl just looks up at Santana, not knowing whether to be terrified or excited.

"Well, if you're staying with me, I only have a few demands I want to have met," she says, tapping a finger against her lips. Rachel stands up at attention, puffing her chest out slightly to seem more confident. It only takes her one glance at Santana's chest to know that she's not exactly as well-equipped as the prettier girl is.

"First off, we're going to have to take you shopping, I guess. It's not like you can live in that homemaker's dress all summer. I'm surprised Kurt didn't attack you earlier."

Rachel makes a face at Santana. "Who is Kurt?"

"Finn's brother…? You might not have met him. The fruitiest fruit in all of fruit town. I swear, if you licked him, he would taste like a bowl of Fruity Pebbles. Anyway, I'll have to take you shopping." She pauses for a moment, realizing that she might be paying for this. "Did you bring any money with you?"

Rachel shakes her head from side to side. She doesn't understand why she needs so much money; she can just buy a few dresses. "I don't see how we're going to get so many. Aren't there any rations set on how many I can buy?"

Santana looks at her like she's crazy, and Rachel realizes she's made a mistake. There aren't rations here, she thinks to herself. Just looking around the room for a quick moment makes her realize that.

"I, I m-mean, don't you have a budget you need to follow?"

"No," Santana says off-handedly. "I'll just charge it. You owe me, though." Rachel nods her head nervously and looks at the other girl. She seems like she's got such a rough skin about her, like the girls Rachel normally doesn't spend time around. She can think of what her parents call the girls like Santana, but she doesn't want to say it aloud, because she knows that it would probably make her heart ache – not hers, but Santana's.

"That, and we're going to get your hair cut," she tells Rachel, noting her permed curls pressed into her hair. "You look like some advertisement for a record player."

"Oh, do you have a record player?" Rachel perks up the moment she hears something she recognizes. Yes, a record player! She should have known that if there was one thing that translated through the years she had left from, music would be the one thing that remained a constant. Santana looks at her again, a bit confused.

"I have a CD player," she corrects her quickly, looking at the stereo system in the corner of the living room. "And my iPod, but no… I don't have a record player." Rachel looks at her, confused. She bites her tongue, knowing that she's not supposed to ask questions. The only person she can ask questions to about why things exist and what they are is Finn, because he's told her that. He doesn't want her asking Santana the wrong thing and having Santana think that she's crazy. It doesn't take much for anyone to make Santana think they're crazy, but Rachel's chances are increased by a million just because of where she's from.

"Oh," Rachel says plainly. "Your hair looks so… flat," she tells Santana. "How do you get it to be so straight?"

"Chemicals," Santana states, grabbing for her purse and car keys on the kitchen counter. "Chemicals, and flat irons, and… most of it isn't even mine. Quinn and I get our hair done together."

Rachel furrows her eyebrows and looks at Santana with a smile. She notes the keys in her hand and realizes that girls can drive here, too. Maybe Santana can teach her how to drive if she ever feels so inclined to do so. "Who's Quinn?"

Santana stifles a laugh and crosses her arms over her chest. "Finn's girlfriend. What, you didn't know who she was?"

"No," Rachel says, thinking back to how she had first met Finn. "But she has a beautiful name."

"Yeah, well she's pretty beautiful, too. I wouldn't get too attached to Finn if I were you."

"I wasn't going to," Rachel says back to Santana, almost in an argumentative tone. "He's pinned himself to Quinn, and I'm happy for him." She feels her stomach kick itself and her mouth dries, tasting bitter. She certainly isn't going to say anything to Santana about Finn. They aren't close like how she is with her friends. How she was with her friends. If she were with her friends back home, she would tell everyone about how she had met the most chivalrous boy in the world when she got here. How he tried to make sure she was comfortable in everything she did so far and how sweet his smile was, and how she felt each time he walked close to her.

"Well, we should get going," Santana says to Rachel, turning the lights off behind her as she swings the front door open. "I want my parents to meet you looking like a normal person."

:.:.:

Finn arrives home just in time to see Kurt's car pull into the driveway. He feels his nerves escape him as Kurt walks into the house with his script in hand, setting it down on the kitchen counter. He makes a face at Finn upon coming into the house, looking at him nervously.

"You alright, Finn? You look a little nervous." Finn shrugs it off and pretends to act like he's fine.

"I'm fine, man, just… I'm just tired, that's all." He feigns a yawn and Kurt walks into the living room, flipping the television set on. Say Yes to the Dress is on, and he sits down and begins watching.

"Really?" Kurt's tone changes and Finn looks at him nervously. He's looking at his phone, and he becomes worried. "Because I just got a text from Santana telling me about some girl you just dropped off at her house?"

Finn feels like he's been hit by a truck. How could Kurt already know about Rachel and how she was here? He feels his stomach churn and he really begins to worry, because he knows that Santana of all people isn't going to hold back when it comes to what she tells Kurt, or anyone for that matter. All of a sudden, it hits him that she may be telling Quinn about all of this. He doesn't want Quinn to know. She'll just think things are different than they are and blow everything out of proportion, and he doesn't need that. Summer is days away, and he doesn't need Quinn taking things the wrong way and feel bad about something that just isn't true.

It isn't true, isn't it?

"Oh, yeah, um, I'm with this shadowing program at school. There's, um, this girl, from Carmel, whose parents are missionaries, so she's staying here. I just didn't want her staying with us, because, um, I figured that it would be weird, you know. With us and everything."

Kurt looks up at Finn from the couch, crossing his legs and giving him a glare. "Well, she could have roomed with me downstairs, or she could have even stayed with Quinn, Finn. Why you chose Santana, of all people-"

"Santana had a spare room," Finn blurts, lying. "Besides, I just figured that Quinn would feel weird, that's all." Finn rubs the back of his neck nervously, desperately wanting to change the subject. "So, um, speaking of Quinn, how did your guys' rehearsal go?"

"Fine," Kurt says, turning the volume down on the TV. "I'm worried for Quinn, though. She's beginning to doubt herself, and, quite frankly, she's right. There's no way she can carry the weight of a show like West Side Story on her shoulders with her airy voice and less than energetic delivery of the role." He sighs deeply and rolls his eyes. "There's only so much I can tell her that's lies, Finn. Quinn will be a lovely chorus girl, but that's all she'll be."

Finn doesn't know what to tell Kurt. He knows just how badly Quinn wants to play the lead in the musical – she wants what every other girl wants that's an actress. She wants her chance to show everyone how great she is, and I think she deserves it, don't you?"

Kurt sighs, looking over at Finn disdainfully. They both know how Kurt and the rest of the student body perceives Quinn Fabray. She's not a nice girl, but it doesn't help that her moments of kindness are only shown in secret to Finn and Kurt on occasion. Not even Santana has shown a liking to her lately, which is upsetting considering the girls have been close since elementary school. Finn knows that he's supposed to support her and everything, but it doesn't help when she's known as some kind of Dragon Lady throughout the school.

"The way I see it, if she gets what she wants, she's out of everyone's hair," Finn tells Kurt quietly. Kurt responds with an eye roll, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I don't want to tell her she can't do it, Finn. I don't want to turn into the way Santana is for her." He sighs and mumbles something to himself incoherently, looking at the television screen and making a face at the chartreuse bridesmaid dress one of the girls has picked out for the lineup. "She just needs your support right now, okay? And I don't think spending time around this girl from Carmel is going to make Quinn any happier."

Finn shoves his hands in his pockets and looks at Kurt, sitting on the couch with is eyes trained on the television set. He knows that he's right. Kurt's always the voice of reason, whether he likes it or not. Maybe spending all of his time around Rachel isn't the greatest idea. He knows that if he does so much as dare talk about the brown-eyed girl that he's grown more fond of as the hours pass in front of Quinn, she'll kill him. She hates it when he talks about movie stars he finds attractive, let alone girls that actually exist to him.

Maybe Rachel's whole existence will have to be a secret. Maybe he can just pretend that he doesn't know about her being harbored at Santana's for the summer – or whenever she plans on leaving.