Her preparation for her audition went by the wayside when she woke up Friday morning with a text message on her phone, from Finn.

Nd ur help.

Rachel groaned, rolled onto her back, and stared up at the ceiling of the apartment because this was too much déjà vu for her: Finn always seemed to know when she was consumed by thoughts of another guy, and always found a way to make his presence known. The fact that she was preoccupied with thoughts of Jesse St. James would have probably sounded like an alarm in Finn's head.

Jesse. She couldn't figure him out. He had responded to her initial invitation with curiosity, then promptly took control of their interactions by assigning himself as her mentor. Not a partner, not a peer, not anything that could allow her to undermine him: he was her mentor, and she was his student. And as if that wasn't startling enough, he approached teaching very differently from what she was used to, advising her more than simply telling her. He demanded perfection, but didn't berate her into doing what he wanted.

That was the other thing she couldn't figure out: she couldn't get a read on him on whether or not he was interested in her romantically. He made his displeasure known whenever she would bring up Finn, but she couldn't figure out if that was because of the past, or if he was still jealous of the former quarterback. Jesse also refused to remember Brody's name, but then he hadn't made much of an effort to learn the names of the New Directions when he had been in McKinley.

Not that she wanted him to be jealous. They were friends. Just friends. She had Brody now.

She wondered if she should tell Jesse that she and Brody were in an open relationship.

Or would that be crass?

She once more glanced at her phone and contemplated just ignoring the text message, but she had never been able to do that. She hadn't ignored any of the hundreds of times Cheerios would prank her by pretending to be friendly only to later respond with Why would I be friends with you, loser?. She hadn't been able to ignore the red herring that had been Jesse's invitation to meet him at the school parking lot so soon after that delightful Queen number.

But then again, she had a feeling she knew what Finn needed help on, considering it was mid-February and that meant Regionals was coming up. Finn's lie on making it to Regionals must be catching up with him.

Just when she had decided to text back and ask what Finn needed help on, just to assure him she wasn't completely ignoring him, the phone in their apartment rang.

"Berry! Up and about!" Santana yelled, interrupting Rachel's introspection.

For someone who did nothing the whole day, Santana Lopez woke up too damn early. Rachel suspected Santana got up early just so she can berate her and Kurt for taking so long in the shower and/or take long showers and keep her and Kurt waiting.

Cheap thrills, Rachel thought in amusement, remembering Jesse's turn of phrase.

Santana peered around the divider to Rachel's bed, took one look at her, and rolled her eyes. She spoke to the cordless receiver in her hand. "Sorry, Finnept, but Berry's still in La-la Land. Annoy someone else until a decent time, why don't you. And who even still uses a land line?" Pause. "Don't care. Go annoy someone else." She pressed a button, and turned back to Rachel, who was watching her. "You owe me, Berry."

"What for?" Rachel asked cluelessly.

Santana scrutinized her, and then rolled her eyes. "I don't even know why I try with you."

Rachel frowned.

"What's the jolly green doing calling you, anyway?" Santana asked curiously. "Aren't you with Magic Moves Ken Doll these days?"

"Finn is my friend, Santana." Rachel reminded.

Santana sneered. "Oh, I bet. Does Ken know you're still friendly with your ex-fiancé?"

Rachel rolled her eyes. "I don't need to defend my friendships to you, Santana."

"Yeah..." Santana drawled. "Bet you fifty you're gonna do the horizontal tango with Hudson. Because, you know, you're such good friends."

"You're crass."

"And you're an idiot." Santana retorted. "At least Ken Doll has abs."

Rachel shot her a confused look, but Santana ignored it. "Hummel made omelettes. I've eaten most of your share."

Rachel climbed out of her bed, and trailed Santana to the dining table. "Do you have any auditions today?"

Santana sighed. "Bouncers here are smarter about fake IDs."

Rachel looked confused.

"I need an ID to get into places and get hired, Berry." Santana reminded.

"Have you considered recording a demo?" Rachel asked.

"I'm not footing it around New York," Santana said quickly.

"MySpace?"

Santana snorted indelicately. "Who even still uses MySpace?"

Rachel pouted. "You need to get your talent out there, Santana."

"You're just saying that 'cause you want me paying rent."

"It would help us out a lot," Rachel admitted. "My dads are already making noise about me starting an expense report."

Santana laughed. "That's 'cause you keep wasting trips to Lima to see a tub of lard."

"Santana."

"Berry." Santana rejoined. "Look, I get it. I spent a lot of time checking in on Britts when I could have really been basking in the college experience. I'd probably still flunk out, but point is, no amount of Britt time kept us together. And now I'm here and she's happy with Trouty and maybe that's where we should be for now. You've been talking Broadway for fucking ever and you're here and why are we still talking about this and why are you smiling?"

Rachel smiled at her. "You care about me."

"What? No." Santana objected.

"You do." Rachel beamed. "You like me."

Santana rolled her eyes.

Rachel laughed softly. "OK, Santana. It'll be our secret."

She was able to avoid Finn's numerous text messages until lunch, when Kurt cornered her and forced her to stay still while he dialed Finn's phone and made the call himself. He forced his phone into Rachel's hand and, to his credit, stayed while Rachel took part in an awkward conversation. When she didn't seem like sharing after, Kurt left only with the reassurance that she would tell him later.

She took a seat in one of the window alcoves in the hallways of NYADA, this particular seat looking out to the street. She took out one of her text books to pretend to read while she contemplated on the situation.

Apparently Finn Hudson can ignore her text and calls for months without a problem, but she tried to do the same for a few hours and he played the stepbrother card.

Finn wanted her - no, to quote him, she needed to come to Lima and help him break the news to the New Directions that he had been wrong and they won't be making it to Regionals.

He wasn't asking, nor was it a request. She had an obligation to go to Lima for her to tell his students that he had made a mistake in building their hopes up.

On the heels of Santana's comment that morning at how much time, effort and money she was wasting on her trips to Lima, Rachel found that she was reluctant to continue the trend. But she also understood that Finn hadn't misled his team on purpose, he just hadn't understood the lengthy email the Show Choir Committee issued regarding the Warblers' disqualification. He would need someone to help break the news to the team.

Rachel picked up her phone, and dialled.

It rang once, twice. And then an automated message told her how to leave voice mail.

Rachel frowned, opting not to leave a message, and instead turned back to her book (History of Theater).

Two minutes later her phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Rachel." Jesse greeted. "You called?"

"That depends. Did you reject my call?" Rachel asked prissily.

"Rachel, it's scarcely been twenty-four hours since you last saw me. Could you really miss me so much already?"

Such. An. Ass. "I have a conundrum."

"Yes, Rachel, there is no winning a showdown between Bernadette Peters and Patti LuPone."

"Patti is an institution! Bernadette Peters is brilliant, but she is hardly an institution, Jesse." Rachel immediately argued.

"I swear, this is like the great Idina and Kristin debate of 2003." Jesse muttered. "You know there's no winning that. What's the problem, Rachel? The audition isn't very formal, you can sing whatever you want. Sing Katy Perry for all I care. I would suggest vehemently against it, but it's your self-respect."

"Jesse."

"Rachel."

"Why did you hang up on me?"

He chuckled. "Because contrary to popular belief - primarily yours - my life does not revolve around making yours miserable. I am in New York for a reason, Rachel. And before you ask, no, I'm not telling you what that reason is."

"You're going to tell me sometime."

"But not today."

Rachel grumbled.

"You called for a reason, I hope."

"Yes!" Rachel exclaimed, before subsequently hesitating.

"Rachel?"

"I need to go to Ohio."

"Is there something wrong?"

"Well..." Rachel hemmed. "Finn wants me there to tell the New Directions about Regionals."

Pause.

The silence on the other end of the line went on for so long that Rachel had to check that Jesse hadn't hung up on her. "Jesse?"

"You know I should be hanging up, right? That is clear to you?"

Rachel pouted. "Yes."

Jesse sighed. "We've been over this, Rachel. I refuse to talk about high school show choir in the present tense."

"Jesse..."

"Why are we still talking about the New Directions?" Jesse asked warily.

"It's just that Regionals is coming up, and..." Rachel sighed. "Finn asked me to be there and help him tell them that they're not in competition anymore."

He took another lengthy pause, enough to make Rachel nervous and bite her lip as she waited for him to give his opinion and tell her what to do. "Look. I can't tell you what to do, you're a grown woman. Or, you're supposed to be, anyway. You can make your own decisions."

"But I need to talk about this."

"Talk to Kurt or Santana. Or Benny."

"I can't talk to them about this!" Rachel protested. She already knew their reactions: Brody would be hurt that she was going to Ohio and see Finn again, Kurt would encourage her and maybe even come along so they can commiserate about the New Directions' loss, and Santana... well, if this morning was any indication, would just spill with colorful language.

"This is exactly why I told you that you needed more friends." Jesse grumbled. "You have to know I can't be objective about this. You must understand that."

"Jesse, please." Did her tone wobble slightly? Yes. She knew she was playing dirty, utilizing her talent at crying on demand, and even though she knew he knew that, she couldn't help but try to appeal to his sympathy. She had no choice; she needed Jesse to act as a sounding board about this.

And when he sighed in apparent defeat, she couldn't even relish the victory because she did know what it took for him just to even hear Finn's name. "Why do you need to go to Lima?"

Rachel glanced out the window. "Regionals is in two weeks and Finn needs to tell them they're not competing."

"And this has to do with you, how?" Jesse asked, his tone curious.

Rachel faltered. "I..."

"You're not co-captain. You're not the musical director. You told me that you weren't even in Lima for Sectionals. Why do you, quote, 'need' to go to Lima to talk to them?"

"But-"

"Do you even know the names of each member of the current group?" Jesse asked curiously. "Be honest, even if I'm telling you to be aware that if you do, I will scorn you for very obvious reasons."

Rachel paused. "I know most of their names."

"So are you going because you care about them, because you care about Finn, or because you want to bask in the glory of Rachel Berry coming back to her roots?"

"That's not fair." Rachel frowned.

"You wanted to talk about it." Jesse said plainly.

"Finn can't do it alone."

"He's old enough to decide he can get married, he's old enough to tell a bunch of kids they're not in competition." Jesse replied sharply. "Tell him he's old enough to admit he made a mistake."

"He needs the support because they'll be disappointed."

"Then he shouldn't have lied to them."

"He didn't know."

"How do you get disqualified and think you're still in the running?" Jesse retorted speculatively. "Nobody's that stupid."

"He didn't understand the email."

"Disqualified, Rachel. What's to misunderstand?"

"I can help him explain."

"It's not your job, Rachel!" Jesse berated. "You have nothing to do with the New Directions anymore. And more to the point, he's a big boy. He screwed up, he should be able to face that. He can apologize for getting their hopes up. That's not your problem anymore. He wants help explaining it? If those kids were stupid enough to believe him after they got disqualified, tell him to drag the guidance counselor in to talk to them. Or, better yet, tell him to tell the actual musical director to help him. It's Will Schuester's fault for putting him in charge, they should be the ones to face the consequences of their actions."

Rachel was quickly realizing she really did not like Jesse St. James lecturing her.

"I mean it, Rachel. Why are you even thinking about this? New Directions was your glee club, once. But they're not anymore. You owe them nothing. You don't owe anyone anything and you certainly don't owe them you skipping out on your life in New York to hold an overgrown baby's hand while he admits he can't read one stupid email. Grow up."

"Why are you being so mean?"

"Why should I be anything else? What, did you really expect me to be supportive of your indecision?"

"I only said Finn asked me to-"

"The fact that you had to call me to ask about something Finn Hudson wants is enough reason for me to roll my eyes and start to wonder if you're really capable of being this insipid." Jesse snapped. "My advice? Tell Hudson to man up and do it himself, since he did a pretty good job getting himself into this mess in the first place. You owe him nothing. You owe them nothing. You have your own life now. They screwed up. You don't have to."

"You're not being very fair." Rachel said quietly.

"Fair?" The scorn was palpable even through the electronic line. "Don't think I'm ignoring the fact that you actually considered skipping out to Lima the same weekend I have you scheduled to go to an audition. If you really believe these are your choices then you have a bigger problem than breathing techniques or your complacency with your talent and ability."

"What would you have me do, Jesse?" Rachel asked sharply. "It's so easy for you, isn't it, just moving on? It's not that easy and you shouldn't be forcing me to move on like that."

"You're unbelievable." Jesse shot back, exasperated. "Really, Rachel? You can say that to me?"

Rachel hesitated now, since she obviously had hit a nerve she hadn't expected. "I..."

"As if the fact that I still take your calls wasn't enough. That I even bothered to answer your text message is just..." Jesse sighed. "You know what? Do whatever you want. If you're not there tomorrow just forget about it. Don't call me about this again."

"Fine. You know what? Maybe I will." Rachel declared, and hung up. She took a deep breath, and took a moment to realize that her hands were shaking in what she could assume was anger. She dropped her phone into her bag, and clenched her hands into fists.

No, that wasn't a mentor berating his student. That was Jesse St. James revealing more than Rachel Berry could handle.