So excited about this chapter! It is incredibly long (like over 12,000 words long) and a lot is covered so hopefully you all keep up and enjoy it. I've been writing it in every spare moment I've had for the past week for you all so I really hope you like it and don't want to kill me after...


8 – CRACKS IN OUR FOUNDATIONS

Holidays.

Beca's never been much of a fan.

(And that's despite Jesse's constant efforts to show her the 'amazingness' of every single one. Like all of them. She's pretty sure half of them don't even exist anywhere but inside his head. For instance, Ferris Wheel Day? There's no way that's a legitimately celebrated occasion, no matter how much he insists he once saw a Hallmark card for it.)

So a week after the riff off, when Halloween rolls around and he turns up at her door holding up a scarily accurate replica of the dress worn by Emily in The Corpse Bride to match his own costume for Victor Van Dort (because, as if it's not enough torture to be in love with your best friend, he has to insist on couple's costumes that really just rub salt in the wound) she thinks she might have the perfect night to get away with murder because there is isn't a cat in hell's chance she's parading around in that thing, with him, in front of the entire campus.

"No."

"But Bee –"

"Not a chance."

His brown eyes are pleading with her and she can feel her resolve melting away by the second, but she stands firm, her arms crossed over his old tatty shirt that she's wearing and her eyes narrowed at him. No, she will not back down this time. No way is he getting away with this again.

Two hours later, she's glaring again but this time at her own reflection, staring back at her with faded blue skin, protruding scars and wispy tattered hair. Jesse's standing behind her shoulder, grinning widely at her awkwardly adjusting the corset of the dress and playing with the fabric of the skirt, trying to stop the ridiculously high slit showing off quite so much of her legs (that she's also had to paint, much to her annoyance, due to his insistence that they be "truly authentic").

"I hate you," she insists for what must be the hundredth time, looking at his deliberately paled face in the mirror as he doesn't even blink, just dusts off his suit a little. How does he always look so good in his costumes when she always looks so… Blah? And why are his outfits always far less intricate?

"No you don't."

"I loathe you."

"Liar."

"I intensely despise you."

"Again, you're lying." Jesse just shakes his head with an amused smile, reaching up to fiddle with the fake dead flowers woven into her hair as she checks the tattoo on her shoulder (that's still glaringly obvious through the face paint) and gingerly smudges at the eyeliner around her eyes. His own are lined – don't worry, she made sure to 'accidently' slip and poke him in the eye as a small form of payback for the undoubted humiliation of the evening – and she just huffs, wishing she could actually hate him just for a moment, because damnit these bandages are itchy

"Beca, would you stop fussing? You look great!" he tells her, giving her a dashing smile and holding his hands back from her costume, his eyes raking down her form. "Seriously, Bee, you look amazing."

Beca rolls her eyes and continues to smooth down the rough fabric of the dress. "How do you talk me into these things?"

"It's a gift."

"Yeah, well, it's a gift that's going to ruin my street cred and probably get me kicked out of the Bella's." Glancing up, she sees his reflection's smile fade, worry passing over his expression.

"That seems a little extreme." But his words come out too much like a question and too little like a teasing remark, because she's told him the stories and he knows full well the general attitude the Bella's hold against the Treble's - he's experienced Aubrey's death glares and sharp words more than a few times.

"Are you serious, Jesse? I'm a Bella, turning up at a Halloween party in a… Couple's costume thing" – she hesitates for just a second, her eyes darting away at the mention of 'couples' – "With a Treble! It's like I'm trying to get myself killed."

The worry in his eyes is there for just a second more before he just shrugs, pulling his phone out of his pocket and busying himself with doing something on it. "Well, at least I win the bet that way," he dismisses.

If it wasn't for the fact that he's talked her into matching costumes in the past, she'd believe he did this all on purpose as some elaborate scheme to get her kicked out of the Bella's and therefore have to have the stupid tattoo done. But this is Jesse, so she knows that he genuinely hadn't thought of this and that he's now actually feeling bad. Good, she thinks, he deserves to suffer after what he's making her wear tonight.

After he snaps a picture of them – because he insists "such brilliance must be posted for the world to see" – and uploads it to Facebook and, for good measure, messages to Freddy and the gang and no doubt his parents (hell, she wouldn't be surprised if he sent to her mother too), Jesse takes their keys and puts them in one pocket and their money in another and they leave her dorm together, arm in arm, as he reminisces giddily.

"Remember our first Halloween last year? I turned up at your house to take you to Brad's party and you tried to go as – what was it again?"

Sighing, she wobbles a little in the uncomfortable white heels as she monotonously replies, "Dead girl listening to music."

Jesse chuckles. "That was the worst attempt at a costume I've ever seen. You didn't even look that different to your normal self!"

"Because dressing up is stupid –"

"And I told you that simply wouldn't do and we had to go to Jenny's for a last minute costume change. Wasn't it cool she had that leather suit lying around? You made an great Black Widow."

"Jesse, I looked terrible! And it was Jenny's – we had no idea where that thing had been. You only insisted on it because it matched your costume." The cold air as they exit the building hits every inch of her bare blue skin harshly and she shivers a little, clinging to him a little tighter. "Trust me, you and I remember last Halloween very differently."

He laughed loudly. "I think you just adapted my line there, Natasha. And hey, it wasn't just because you matched my Hawkeye outfit, though admit it; we looked pretty damn awesome, especially after Jenny dyed your hair."

Beca grimaces at the thought of how much hair stripper it had taken to take out the red Jenny had had lying around for her own hair. "Really struggling to remember why I keep you around right now…"

"Okay, okay," he says as he laughs at her expense. "I'll drop it. Though you know you had a good time at that party; Brad always throws amazing parties."

"His parents sure don't think that." Beca looks around at the various people walking through the campus, taking in the crazy costumes and the severely lack on clothing on a lot of them (both boys and girls – seriously, she thinks she just saw someone in only the gold hot pants of a certain Rocky) and half of her is actually kind of glad he's dragged her out. Last year, they really had enjoyed themselves, and maybe, once the Bella's get over her traitorous costume choice, she can actually have fun, plus Jesse had promised that their roles could be reversed tonight…

The party, as it turns out, is actually pretty decent. When they arrive there's a bit of a hullabaloo over their costumes (she's amazed that Aubrey only sends one seething remark in her direction and then lets it go, though judging by the look Chloe gives her when she does, Beca thinks the redhead might have had a word about Aubrey's attitude) and then a bit of a fan fair in return - Amy is wearing a very large amount of yellow in a... Unique interpretation of Winnie the Pooh; Stacie is barely contained inside the PVC confinements of her nurses costume; Aubrey looks like a zombified version of Britney Spears at the beginning of that music video with the pink scrunchies and tarty school girl uniform; Lily… Well, Beca's not sure what Lily is supposed to be dressed as, she just knows she's going to have legitimate nightmares over the… Whatever she is.

As promised Jesse is the designated 'walker' and he keeps his alcohol intake to a minimum, while she allows herself to take advantage of the rare occasion of not having to look after him and instead, get a little loose. So Beca drinks and she dances and leaves blue smudges everywhere she goes and she surprisingly loves every second, even if the music does suck a little and she's trapped in this ridiculous wedding dress that makes her itch and sweat and struggle to breathe a little in the intense heat of the Treble house.

It is on one such occasion that Jesse notices her discomfort and takes her outside, that something first strikes her as odd.

"You okay there, Bee?" he says in a soothing voice, his palm on her back as he leads her a little ways from the house, away from the people and the noise.

"Fantastic!" she slurs a little, grinning up at him. "How you doing?" And she snorts, repeating the question in a funny accent which makes Jesse laugh along with her.

"That is a terrible Joey impression!" he says once he's stopped laughing. "And you must be really out of it if you're doing impersonations."

She shrugs, stumbling a little as her bare feet come into contact with a sharp rock (she can't remember where her shoes went, but they aren't there anymore and she's glad they decided to leave her). "I'm totally fine. Not even tipsy."

It's his turn to snort, giving her a disbelieving smirk and wrapping his arm around her waist to keep her upright. "Sure you aren't."

"Seriously, I'm totally fine. Remember, I can hold my liquor." She hiccups and leans further into him, looking out into the darkness spread before them. Sleepiness washes over her a little and her weight rests heavily into him, his arms the only thing really keeping her upright.

"You okay? You wanna go home?"

"No." There's a long pause, during which she shivers and he takes off his blue-stained blazer to drape over her shoulders. It smells of him and she holds the collar closer to her nose, not really caring that he can see her doing it. "Jesse?"

"Yes, Beca?"

"Thank you. For… For being you."

Beca's not really sure where the sentimentality comes from or why she feels the need to thank him, but with her head against his chest and his arm holding her close, she has the overwhelming urge to tell him, once and for all, just how important he is to her, to tell him how much of an effect he has over her just by being her friend. She wants him to know that she's selfish, because being his friend isn't enough for her anymore and even though she doesn't deserve him, in any way shape or form, she doesn't care. All she cares about is him.

But Jesse doesn't know that. Not properly - not until she finds the courage to actually say all of that out loud. So he laughs at her and hugs her closer. "Oh dear, you really are drunk."

"I'm serious!" she insists in a voice that's a little too whiney. She pulls away to see him better, trying to convey her sincerity. "I know I don't tell you very often but I do appreciate you, you know that right? I – I love you, Jesse, you mean the world to me."

The smile slowly fades from his face and the amusement in his eyes is replaced with some strange, so quick she can't register it properly before he's smiling again, pulling her tight against him in a hug. "I choose my best friend's very carefully, Bee. There's a reason I picked you."

"My amazing taste in music?" she mumbles into his chest, her eyes fluttering closed. His laughter rumbles in his chest.

"That's a factor, I suppose. But the main reason is your passion. If you love something, if it inspires you and captures you, you cling onto it, you fight for your dream, for your love of it." He drops a kiss to her forehead. "You're fiercely loyal to anything you hold dear and I love you for everything you are. You, Miss Mitchell, are my rock, so thank you for everything, too."

Tears stick to her thick eyelashes and she nuzzles her nose into him, determined not to let him see her tears because he doesn't get it, she knows he doesn't. His expression of love is for a best friend, for someone who is always by his side.

But hers? Hers is an expression of love. Because she doesn't want to be by his side; she wants to be a part of him, to be with him as more than just a friend. And she feels stupid and over emotional and too girly but she can't help it, because the alcohol is making her more prone to what she normally keeps tucked away and suddenly the weight of her realisation over summer is hitting her square in the gut, forcing her to accept the never ending agony that accompanies unrequited love.

The force turns her stomach and she's pushing him harshly away, stumbling across the grass to the tree nearby as her insides twist sharply. The contents of her stomach spill onto the exposed roots and she gags against the burn in her throat, barely registering Jesse's fingers rubbing up her spine or his other hand holding her hair and train back. Her palms scratch against the bark of the tree and a gag turns into a sob, one hand letting go to wipe against her mouth and try to somehow stop him hearing as she begins to cry.

At some point he turns her, her cheek pressing into his chest and her legs tucked up as he rocks her gently in his lap, hidden by the low branches of the tree to the rest of the party. Beca presses her hand into his neck, holding onto him as the weight of her situation hits her like a ton of bricks. How did she get here? How is she this hysterical mess of an eighteen year old, trapped in this university by her abandoning, unsupportive father with her best friend that she's head over heels for and a crazy group of girls that she sometimes thinks shouldn't be allowed out in public?

How did she get here?

She wants to blame her father. If he hadn't upped and left she never would have met Jesse in the first place, and then none of this would have happened. Though maybe that also makes it Jesse's fault. But then she hates herself, because all Jesse has done is be so amazing to her and she's returning the favour by blaming him for all her problems?

It's not his fault that she had to go and fall for him. It's not his fault that her father left. It's not his fault that she's being forced to be here, or that she's surrounded by Aubrey and her craziness too often to be mentally healthy (okay, so that one is totally his fault, but that's not the point).

It's her own fault, but she hasn't got a clue how to fix this all.

Well, maybe if she weren't so drunk…

"I'm sorry," she mutters a few moments later after she's calmed down to just occasional hitches in breath and her eyes are a little drier. "I don't know why I cried."

"It's fine." He strokes her matted hair, kissing her forehead again as he continues to rock them. "I know you've needed that for a while."

She snivels. "I did?"

"This has all been a big adjustment for you, and you don't deal well with change or unfamiliar settings or pretty much anything" – she can feel his smile, can hear the teasing in his tone – "And sometimes we all need a bit of a cry to help get through it."

Beca scrubs at her eyes, not caring about her make up anymore. "When did you get so wise?"

Jesse chuckles again, shrugging gently enough so as not to bustle her. "I have my moments."

"Can we go home please?" she pleads, and he nods, raising both of them to an upright position. Looking down at her tear-smudged face, he gives her a soft smile as he runs his fingers under her eyes to try and fix her eyeliner a little better before straightening her flower tiara. She laughs as she rubs helplessly at one of the many blue face paint transfers on his white shirt, seeing in the dim lighting how her skin is almost clean from the make up from the hours of brushing past people and spilled drinks and sweaty dancing.

"Come on, Bee, I'll give you a lift." He hunches down in front of her, his back facing her, and she seperates her skirts at the slit so she can jump up and wrap her legs around his waist. He grips the back of her knees, her arms around his neck as he begins to walk them back towards the dorms.

"So what about Amy's costume?"

Beca chuckles a little at the disbelief in his voice, resting her cheek against the crown of his head. "I thought it was… Original."

"That's one word for it…"

"Jesse!" a voice squeals, and he turns them in alarm to see none other than her roommate, Iris, giggling away with some of her sorority sisters as she waves drunkenly at him. "Hey Jesse! Any chance I can get a ride too?"

The girls burst into further hysterics, all of them in matching bunny costumes – which are really no more than black hotpants, a tight corset and fluffy bunny ears clipped neatly into their perfect hair – and Jesse hesitates beneath her.

"Just ignore them, they'll go away in a minute," she says in his ear, shifting a little to get more comfortable.

"Pretty please?" Iris calls, turning to shake her white fluffy bunny tail at him. "You can't resist a cute little bunny rabbit, can you?"

Beca thinks she's just about ready to puke again when Jesse speaks. "Only room for one today, I'm afraid. Perhaps another time."

The girls are close enough now that Beca can see the smile falter on Iris's face as the blonde glances at her clinging to his back. "Oh! Beca, didn't see you there. That costume is uh… It's interesting."

"At least its not a slutty–"

"Well we have to go, sorry girls," Jesse hastily cuts in, trying to save her from letting her sharp tongue get her into trouble (again). "See you around."

Jesse turns around, again heading back to the dorms, and she can feel the tension in his shoulders as the sorority girls call after him suggestively, Iris cackling away at their helm, and Beca tightens her grip around his waist, causing him to twist his head to try and see her.

"They're only sorority girls, they're not going to kill you, you know," she jokes, trying to ease the tension radiating from him, but he falters a second too long before relaxing.

"Yeah, well, tell that to Mrs Slater," he says dryly, and she shivers a little at the memory of watching The House on Sorority Row with him late one night. She really does not like slasher movies.

"Why would you remind me of that?" she complains, and he just laughs, hitching her a little higher over his hip bones.

"It's alright, you can come sleep with me; I'll keep the nightmares away," he teases, and she rests her check against her own arm as it grips the buttons of his shirt to keep her balanced, letting her distress from before just drift away. All she wants to do for now is sleep.


"Happy Peanut Butter Fudge Day!" Jesse bursts into her room at ten in the morning towards the end of November, ignoring her groan of frustration as she rolls over in bed and pulls the covers over her head to hide from the light flooding in from the hallway. She hears Jesse pulls on her blinds to draw them up and the warm sunshine hits the top of her head, still peeking out from the duvet.

"Come on, Bee, rise and shine! It's a big day today!"

"Fuck off," comes her muffled reply as she tries to settle back to sleep.

"Nope." The duvet is ripped cruelly from her grasp and Beca is left to face the slight chill of the room in just an old shirt and cotton shorts. "Get your lazy butt out of bed."

"Jesse," she fumes, "I will snap every single one of your DVDs if you do return my duvet and shut those fucking blinds."

"How can you be so grumpy when it's Peanut Butter Fudge Day?" he asks with an exasperated sigh, ignoring her threat and instead starting up her computer.

"You're the only person in the world who actually gives a shit about that."

"Tell that to peanut butter fudge makers."

"I swear to God…"

But Jesse is at her side again, putting pressure on her hip to roll her over and suddenly she's looking up at the grinning face of the boy is definitely not her best friend anymore after pulling this stunt. Her eyes narrow and his grin grows impossibly wider, and yep, she's going to kill him.

"Beca, you need to get up."

Her hand darts out to slap him around the head and she manages it, seconds before he grips her wrist and then the other one as it rises for the defence, and he pins them above her head, pressing a knee down on her thighs to stop her kicking up at him.

And really, this is probably the most compromising position they've actually been involved in, and it is typical that a certain redhead walks by the still-open door at that exact moment.

"Beca?" Chloe just stares at them as Jesse recoils quickly, letting Beca go and straightening up with a self-conscious clearing of the throat as he smiles awkwardly at their intruder. Chloe is dressed in her costume for the Thanksgiving 'aca-grams' and Beca would make a joke about it if it weren't for how her eyes are darting between Beca and Jesse at a ridiculous speed.

"Chloe, hey." Beca sits up properly and starts tying her messy hair back into a precarious ponytail. "What's up?"

"I was…" Chloe shakes her head a little and then her usual friendly smile settles back into place. "I was just starting my rounds for the day, you know, before people start disappearing." She holds up a handful of little envelopes with a large calligraphy B along the front. "I was only passing by…"

Jesse, back into his usual laidback attitude, smiles at the redhead. "Happy Peanut Butter Fudge Day, Chloe."

"Ooh! Yum!" Chloe's bright blue eyes light up eagerly. "I love peanut butter fudge!"

"See?" Jesse gestures to Chloe as he turns to Beca with a slight pout. "Why can't you react more like that?"

Beca rolls her eyes, swinging her legs out of the bed and grabbing his hoody from the back of her desk chair that he left a few days ago. "Because I'm not a weirdo?" she says dryly as she stretches her arms through the mass of material, zipping it up to stop the cold getting in.

"Don't be so mean to poor Chloe," he admonishes, but Chloe just laughs lightly in the doorway.

"Oh it's fine, she's probably right." She waves the envelopes awkwardly. "So I should…"

"Yeah, sure." Beca smiles tightly at her.

"But I'll see you at rehearsal tonight?"

"Yup."

"Okay, good." Chloe's smile grows and she waves at them both. "Bye guys."

Once she's left, Beca quickly shuts the door and pulls at the stretchy hem at the bottom of the hoody. It finishes below the line of her shorts so it's probably not the best thing to be wearing, and it smells of Jesse in a way that she probably shouldn't love so much, which just makes her feel very awkward and determined to avoid his inquisitive gaze.

"You okay?" he asks quietly after a few moments of strangely tense silence.

"Fine." Beca opens her wardrobe and starts to leaf through her clothes to put her focus somewhere other than him. Honestly, she's mad at him, because this is the first time he's stopped by for about two days and it annoys her that he's falling back into this new pattern of going missing for days at a time, giving short answers to her texts and sometimes failing to return her phone calls. But she doesn't know how to tell him, not without broaching some loaded topics, and she's rather him keep whatever his little secret is than have to explain why she is so possessive.

"No you're not – are – are you mad at me?"

"Nope," she says more to her collection of jeans than him. He sounds confused, and a little hurt, and a part of her flares up in anger at the fact he thinks he has a right to be hurt.

"No you – Beca you're totally mad at me!" Jesse's hands are gentle on the tops of her arms as he tries to turn her around and face him, but she resists, firmly standing her ground when he increases the force. "Shit, Bee, I'm sorry."

"Would you stop –" She yanks her arms free and walks away from him, instead sitting in her desk chair and clicking on things on her computer just to appear busy.

"Beca, come on, don't be like this." Jesse stands helplessly where she left him, and she tries not to notice the slump of his shoulders or the way his lips are parted in defeated confusion.

"Be like what? I'm fine. Not doing anything differently."

"You're being – "Jesse steps towards her as she turns her chair so her back is to him, running her fingers lazily over the electronic keyboard. "You're being off with me, you never do that."

"Jesse, would you just let it go?" She sighs, then yelps a little in surprise when he pushes on the back of her chair to spin her back around, leaning into it around her body as his eyes suddenly meet hers and he squints, searching for something.

"What did I do?"

"Nothing."

"What did I do?"

"It's nothing, Je –"

"What did I do?"

"Oh my God, Jesse would you just back off?" Her hands collide with his shoulders as she pushes him forcibly away, and a stunned look crosses his features before it melts into hurt, taking in her pursed lips and narrowed eyes.

"Beca…"

"Jesse, just – Just drop it okay?" And she stands up, unzipping his hoodie and handing it back to him, hating how empty she feels in this moment, like one of the many ties that hold them together has just snapped, falling lifelessly away.

"Fine." He holds his hands up, backing away towards her door. "Sorry, I'll go."

She sighs his name, because as angry as she is, she can't bear the sight of him walking away.

"Don't worry about it." His head drops and he grips the maroon hoodie tighter. "I'll call you."

And then he's gone, and Beca's left to figure out how exactly things got this way.


The next few days pass slowly.

Very, very slowly.

And sitting at the dinner table with her father and the step monster, toying with her turkey meat, she can feel every second of the awkward silence. Beca is not exactly happy about her position, but it was Thanksgiving or Christmas with her father and there's no way she's spending the end of the year in Georgia.

So she sits, bored, trying not to think about the glances between the couple from either end of the table, or the unusually silent phone beside her plate, or the fact her best friend has been going MIA again over the past few weeks and he seems to be keeping a secret from her, something she's sure he's never done in all the years she's known him. She tries not to think about the last time she saw him, walking away from her in resignation.

Not that she's thinking about Jesse.

Nope.

Because she's sworn to stop doing that.

And she's obviously doing really well at that.

Jesse (yes, so she's obviously not doing well, but she's trying to convince herself it's because he's not here and that its weird, not having him within the state) is probably eating a wonderful dinner - which Sheila's attempt is definitely not - with all of his family, laughing and joking and being the perfect cookie cutter, movie worthy scene that she's grown to love being a part of. Betty, his mother, is not fond of phones at the table, and she knows rationally that that is why Jesse has not responded to her messages throughout the day.

But she's irrational, the nagging in her gut whispering thoughts she's not ready to face because she can't lose him, and she won't. Jesse loves her; he said so himself. And yes, it might not be the love she feels for him but he still cares for her, she knows that without a doubt, and just because he's yet to call as he promised or even just text her back... That doesn't mean a thing. Not at all. Yes, it's been all day. But he's busy. Right?

"Can I be excused?"

"What? No, Beca –"

But she's already gone, her appetite diminished, and she knows its Thanksgiving and that this is important to her father but what's the point in it all? She doesn't have that much to be thankful for this year.


At midnight, as Beca lies in her bed and meaninglessly plays around with the wire of her headphones, her phone finally buzzes beside her. She is not expecting it and it makes her jump a little on the springs of her mattress, and she snatches it up greedily, delight curling in her gut as she reads the message on the lock screen.

From: Weirdo 12:01am
You're welcome.

Beca hasn't heard from him since yesterday, and things have been tense since the debacle in her dorm that resulted in him walking away and leaving the state for the holiday. Their strange exchange yesterday had been a little awkward, something she had initiated and that he seemed to take part in more because he felt he had to than actually wanting to, but she thinks they might be a little closer to being back to normal? Maybe. She's not sure anymore.

To: Weirdo 12:03am
For what?

From: Weirdo 12:04am
I know you gave thanks for little old me today.

She's surprised at the speed of his reply, and takes this as a good sign that maybe he's starting to forgive and forget her behaviour two days ago. Hesitating, she tries to figure out what to say. Normally she would be teasing, would have no issue in it, but now she's not so sure. Are they there yet? Will he take her reply as it's intended? A joke?

To: Weirdo 12:07am
Nope.

Pressing send, she closes her eyes and waits.

And waits, and waits, and waits.

From: Weirdo 12:16am
Don't lie, I felt it. And it's Your Welcomegiving Day so you're the first on my list.

She exhales in relief and smiles a little to herself in the darkness, her thumbs dancing over the buttons as she tries to think of what to say back. Before she can though, her phone buzzes again.

From: Weirdo 12:23am
Sorry I didn't call. Forgive me?

To: Weirdo 12:26am
Didn't remember you were supposed to.

Thinking that brushing it off will help, she stares at her phone screen, impatient for his reply.

From: Weirdo 12:27am
Are you mad again?

She sighs. It didn't help.

To: Weirdo 12:30am
I'm not mad.

From: Weirdo 12:31am
When will you learn how terrible a liar you are?

Beca is aware that she shouldn't take her words back. Jesse should know that his continuing absences are upsetting her, and that the way he doesn't even notice the changes between them is hurting her, but she's too ready for this awkwardness to be over with already, and she just wants to forget it ever happened and go back to how things were.

To: Weirdo 12:35am
I'm not mad, okay? The other day was just… I was Mrs Grumpus. I didn't mean to snap.

It is a long time before he replies again, so long that she's on the edge of sleep when the vibration through the springs and the lighting up of her phone and just barely pulls her back to reality. She reaches blindly for her phone on her bedside table, opening the message with a yawn.

From: Weirdo 1:12am
Friends again?

She smiles and settles further into her pillow, typing out her reply with one hand as her eyes grow heavy again.

To: Weirdo 1:14am
I suppose…

From: Weirdo 1:15am
Goodnight, Bee.

To: Weirdo 1:16am
Goodnight, Ducky.


"Now, are you sure you've got everything? You're not leaving anything important behind? Toothbrush? Mixing board? Your dignity?"

Beca rolls her eyes as she hauls her suitcase off her bed, ignoring Jesse as he throws popcorn at her head from her desk chair. She blows at the hair that falls in her face, spinning to glare at her best friend as a pellet hits her temple. Dropping the suitcase, she aims a slap to his arm his way, but he deflects it easily and instead uses his grip on her wrist to pull her towards him, the force spinning the chair as she lands heavily in his lap.

"My dignity is just fine thanks," she huffs, stealing a handful of his popcorn, much to his annoyance.

"After that performance? I doubt it."

Okay, so yes, tripping over during the choreography of the Bella's set at the holiday gala is probably just about the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to her, and yes, the fact it already has a few thousand views online is also fairly damaging to her dignity, but she isn't about to let him know that.

So instead, she chucks another handful of popcorn over her shoulder where she knows his face is, and uses his temporary loss of function due to shock to worn her way out of his grip, busying herself with anything that doesn't involve looking or being near him.

Beca's actually really looking forward to going home for Christmas. She's missed their friends and surprisingly, her mother; has missed the safety of North Carolina and the comfort it brings her; has missed the life she has – had – there that she feels that maybe, just maybe, once they go back, will be easy enough to fall back into, and the growing gap between her and Jesse will magically fill again and they'll be back to how they were before… Whatever it is that seems to be pulling him away.

Glancing up at him as she checks her backpack for everything she'll need for the drive back, she sees how he stares off into the distance, how there's a crease between his brow he only ever gets when he's trying to decide something important, how he taps nervously on his knee, popcorn still clinging to the folds in his shirt as he slouches back. Yes, she can feel the black hole in the space between them; how it's slowly sucking everything in around them. She worries that one day, the power of it will become strong enough to suck up their friendship, and she's not sure how she'll manage without that.

Jesse pulls his phone out of his pocket, tapping furiously at the screen, and she sighs to herself. No, she needs to get a grip; stop thinking about him and start thinking about… College? What she's going to be going back to at home? The Bella's?

"Hey Beca," Iris calls as she walks through the door, her long legs bare in just a tiny pair of shorts and a bright pink t shirt with her sorority's name printed across the front. Iris smiles at her, one full of force and lacking in sincerity, as she hitches her thumb over her shoulder. "One of your pals is here."

Beca straights up and frowns, partly at the fact she has a visitor just before she leaves and partly due to the strange atmosphere that envelopes the room. Her eyes dart between Jesse and Iris, taking in how he very obviously avoids looking towards her roommate and how she puts too much effort into dumping her keys and putting on a slouchy black cardigan, her back to the rest of the room. Shaking it off, she walks to the door, chuckling as she finds Stacie grinning wickedly at her in a sexy Mrs Claus outfit, a pole holding mistletoe in one hand and a small envelope in the other.

"Hey Beca!" Stacie greets cheerfully, shaking the mistletoe above them. "Ooh, looks like someone owes me a kiss!"

Rolling her eyes, Beca reaches forward to kiss the taller brunette on the cheek, Stacie returning the favour as she laughs lightly. "Have you finished the 'acagrams'?" Beca asks, making quotation marks with her fingers as she cringes a little at what Aubrey had chosen to call the apparent chosen method for fundraising this year. Luckily, Beca is yet to be enforced into such horrors, but she knows her time is looming and she's pretty sure it'll quickly take over as the embarrassing moment of her life.

"You're my last one!" Stacie clears her throat, before settling into a shortened rendition of Jingle Bell Rocks complete with the choreography from Mean Girls (the fact she knows this is more than a little frustrating) and handing over the envelope. Beca opens it, rolling her eyes at the message inside. Of course her father would try and win her over by hiring her own group to send her off for the holidays.

"Thanks Stacie," she laughs as she brings it to a close, shimmying her hips and winking at Beca.

"You all ready to return home?" she asks, her eyes wide with interest.

"Yeah, we'll probably be leaving in a few minutes."

"Oh, 'we', huh?" Stacie's eyes sparkle with a suggestive amusement, and they both look over her shoulder to see Jesse talking to Iris in hushed tones. "Ah, the boy toy is accompanying you."

Beca shakes her head tiredly. "Jesse's just a friend, but we live a fifteen minute drive from each other so it makes sense to go home together."

"Oh, really?" Stacie pouts. "Only a friend? That sucks, you guys are kinda perfect."

"It's not like that." But Beca can feel herself flushing involuntarily as she waves Stacie off, something the girl does not fail to notice as she gasps loudly.

"Oh my God!" she squeaks. "Do you –"

Beca covers her mouth quickly with her hand as she rushes to close the door behind her, eyes frantic. "Stacie, please, shut up!"

"You totally have a toner for him!" she whisper-yells, a delighted grin passing over her expression. "I totally called this! Lily so owes me ten bucks."

"Wait, you guys have been betting – Never mind, look, I do not have a toner for him, and how do you even know what that is?"

Stacie just shrugs. "Aubrey had a word after the riff off, thinks I have the hots for Donald but he really isn't my type."

"I thought all guys were your type," Beca doubts, thinking back to a conversation she'd unwillingly been involved in just last week. Stacie shakes her head with a sly smile.

"Yes, but I like a man who will just take me you know, he's got to be out there and confident and demanding and – you little bitch, you totally switched topics!" Stacie shoves Beca's shoulder lightly at her realisation. "The point of the matter is, Little Miss Beca, that you fancy your best friend!"

"I don't fancy him," Beca defends weakly, her blush full on tomato red now as she looks down at her shoes.

"No – Oh my – Holy shit Beca, are you in love with him?"

"No!" she protests immediately, looking up at Stacie in alarm. "That's ridiculous; why would you even say that?" But Stacie can see right through her, she knows it by the raised eyebrow and crossed arms Stacie is sporting, and she slumps against her door, groaning quietly. "Is it that obvious?"

"Fuck, I can't believe this! What are you going to do?"

"Continue not telling him?" she tries feebly, because her mind is far too preoccupied by the matter of how she has just admitted, out loud, her feelings for Jesse. Not another soul ever knew; she'd never told anyone, until now, and she's amazed at the giant weight off her chest, how she feels she can breathe so much better now that there's someone in the world who knows her constant battle inside her head, and she can't help the smile that spreads as she realises just how good this all feels.

"You can't – That's not – I mean, isn't this killing you?" Stacie questions in disbelief, a concerned furrow between her perfectly shaped eyebrows.

"Yes," Beca sighs heavily, "But what can I do? He's my best friend, and I can't lose him. I'd rather that pain than the pain of losing him."

"What if you don't lose him? What if he feels the same?"

Beca refuses to let Stacie's word get her hopes up, because she knows all too well that Jesse doesn't hold any romantic feelings for her. "No, he doesn't, trust me."

"How can you know that for sure? What if he thinks the same thing you do and is –"

"Woah!" The door behind Beca opens and her weight, being too dependent on, stumbles back, a strong pair of arms catching her. Jesse rights her and Beca turns in astonishment, praying that Jesse hasn't heard any of their conversation.

"Hey, Stace," he says easily, smiling at her, before his eyes flicker back to Beca, full of an eager determination. "My mom is parked up and ready for us, if you're…"

"Oh! Yeah, no, totally, I was just saying goodbye." Stacie grins at him, her eyes never leaving Beca's panicked expression. The brunette pulls her close for a hug, whispering into her ear. "I'll call you tomorrow."

Beca pats her back awkwardly, previously unaware they were at that stage of their friendship, and Stacie pulls back with a happy exhale, holding onto her shoulders, the pole digging into Beca's arm.

"I will see you in a few weeks! Have a great Christmas and New Year; don't do anything I wouldn't." Stacie winks and bids them a breezy goodbye, walking away with a sway to her hips in her costume, and leaves Jesse and Beca standing in the corridor, staring after her.

"So… You wanna go?" Jesse asks awkwardly.

"Oh! Yeah, no I'm ready." Beca brushes past him, avoiding his gaze as she slings her backpack onto her back and grabs the handle of her suitcase. Iris is sitting on her bed, staring out of the window with glassy eyes, and Beca frowns a little as she turns to Jesse, still in the doorway, looking at the old gala poster on the wall of the hallway.

"Goodbye, Beca," Iris calls before Beca closes the door, and yep, this is definitely the weirdest day of her life because what?


"I swear to God, I've watched the video about a hundred times!"

"It just gets better every time!"

"Dude and her face as she falls, the horror –"

"And those girls are just staring at her!"

"And she's just lying there –"

"Okay, enough!" Beca slams her hand on the table of the diner in an extra effort to grab her friends' attention, who are sitting around her laughing at her expense. A surprisingly snowy Christmas Eve has crept up on them quicker than any of them thought possible and they're not enjoying their own version of Christmas together before the group head off in different directions for New Year – Damien and Phillipa to his grandparents up state, and Freddy Brad to New York City with his big brother, Jenny to her dad's in Florida, and Jesse and Beca to his family's house in Canada. "So what, I fell, big deal. Can we all please stop laughing at that and maybe instead focus on the more important issue at hand?"

"What's that?" Jenny asks from beside her, her bright red hair glowing in the bright lights.

"The fact," Beca says slowly to emphasise her point, "that we've been together for the past four days and no one is yet to mention Brad's fake eyebrow!"

The table bursts into excitement and hilarity at Brad's expense, who glares at her before launching into an explanation as to why he's had to draw one in (something about the guys at the mechanics he works at downtown getting revenge on him for falling asleep after a night out), and Beca sits back into the booth stool, satisfied with her work. Well, all except for the fact that Jesse seems to have completely zoned out of the conversation, his attention far too wrapped up in his phone – a habit she's noticed him doing more and more often recently.

"Who the hell could you possibly be texting?" she asks him, also noticing how his arm is no longer slung behind her as it had been five minutes ago – and always is, because it's just the natural way they sit together. "All of your friends are here!"

Jesse doesn't even look up at her, his thumbs moving quickly over the touch screen. "Uh, Benji, something about magic, I don't know."

Beca scowls, nudging him in the ribs. "Well you've been texting him a lot these past couple of days, maybe you can come back to the present for a moment to actually pay attention to everyone else? None of us have been together for four months, the least you could do is have the courtesy to pay them a bit of attention."

She hadn't noticed that the table had gone quiet so by the time she's finished her biting remark (that she's not really sure why she said, it just came out and she doesn't know why she sounded so mad) she only just notices how five pairs of eyes are staring at her, incredulous, as Jesse's own brown eyes watch her cautiously.

"Uh, okay, I'm sorry." Jesse slides his phone into his jeans pocket, never looking away from her.

"Dude, what did you do?" Brad tries to joke, and Jesse glances at him before looking back to Beca, who is staring down at her lap, angry with herself for snapping at him once again.

"I don't…" Jesse falters. "Wow, that eyebrow is really bad."

And the table settles again into a buzz of teasing conversation, this time however, there is a new tension to the air around them, which only increases once Jesse slips his hand into hers and pulls her away from the booth and towards the counter.

"Okay, this has to stop," he starts when they sit in the stools. "We're having this out, right now."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she lies, looking instead at a coffee stain on the edge of the counter top.

"Yes, you do. You've been off with me for months, and I know you keep insisting you're not mad at me but you're lying because this isn't getting better and I'm tired of it. So tell me what your problem is."

Jesse's so utterly clueless as to how he's behaving that it sparks something, something she hadn't known she'd been suppressing until that second when suddenly there's a fire in her belly and all her anger and hurt towards him comes flooding to the surface. "You want to know what my problem is?"

"Yes, I really do."

"My problem," she hisses, trying not to let her voice raise and bring attention to them. "Is that you've been a complete douchebag to me since we got to Barden. You go missing for days, don't reply to my messages or return my phone calls, you skip work at the station and you cancel our plans." Her hand slams down on the counter of its own accord because she's so mad at him. "The question is not what my problem is, Jesse, but what yours is."

Jesse's eyes are wide and he seems a little taken aback by her sudden rush of accusations. "I – Beca, I don't have a problem. I didn't…"

"You didn't what?" she scoffs. "You didn't realise how you've been pushing me to the sidelines for months now? You didn't notice how much of a tool you've been acting since joining the Treble's? You didn't notice how you barely see me anymore?"

"Beca…" He tries helplessly, but she's beyond caring how he feels because damnit, her feelings matter too.

"You know," She laughs humourlessly, hopping down from the stool, "I stupidly thought that if there was one person who wouldn't treat me shit and just leave me behind, that it was you." Shaking her head, she sighs sadly. "I should've known better."

Beca walks away, from him and the rest of her friends, not wanting to be around anyone in her foul mood. She can't be around them, a reminder in itself of Jesse because they were his friends first. Her thoughts snowball as she forcibly pushes the door open and faces the winter chill settling over the town. What if her and Jesse don't get past this? stills he still have them? Or will they stick with their original friend, sidelining the invader Jesse encouraged them to accept?

Jesse, who does not follow her. Who does not stop her from walking away.

But Phillipa does, her blonde hair whipping around in the cold snowy wind as she follows Beca to the parking lot. "Beca, wait up!"

She does not have time to wipe away her tears before Phillipa reaches her, wrapping her arms around the brunette as she tries not to degenerate into full blown hysterics a la Halloween. The arms are comforting, but not in the right way, yet she appreciates them all the same, because it means she's not alone, not really. Jesse may be leaving her behind, but that doesn't mean everyone else is.

"Come on," Phillipa says after a few minutes, "Let's get you home."

Phillipa drives Beca home in an easy silence, knowing not to press too hard or say anything until Beca is ready, and they arrive at Beca's house quicker than she expects (though that may be because she spends most of the ride lost inside her own head, replaying the very one-sided fight over and over).

"Do you want to talk about it?" Phillipa breaches once they are in her room, her perched on the edge of the bed and Beca lying back in her giant bean bag, looking up helplessly at the ceiling. How did this even happen? Why did she feel the need to suddenly call him out on his behaviour?

"I don't know."

"He deserved it, you know. Freddy and Damien have been telling me how distant he's been with them recently. I can only imagine how bad it is for you, actually being with him every day."

Beca sighs, Phillipa's attempt at comforting her making her feel more tired than anything. "He's keeping something from me, Fifi, and I'm scared over what it is."

"I'm sure he'll tell you in time."

"It's been months."

"You know, Beca, I know that your friendship with Jesse is special to you. It's unique and you treasure it with all of your heart." Phillipa looks away, staring into space. "But maybe… Maybe he's moving on. Maybe it's time to let go. People… People start to fall apart, they lose touch. It's natural to have people you love fade in and out of your life. You just have to know when to set them free."

Beca sits up, leaning back on her arms, frowning a little at Phillipa. "Why do I get the feeling we're not talking about Jesse and I anymore?"

"No, no, we are."

"Fifi," Beca broaches cautiously, "What's happened?"

Beca spends the rest of the afternoon soothing her friend the best she can over her disintegrating relationship with Damien, stroking her hair and digging out the emergency ice cream from the back of the freezer, and it's comforting in a way, to share this almost-matching problem with someone. They talk and Phillipa cries and Beca does her best not to, and it's oddly therapeutic, so she lets herself get lost inside a Ben and Jerry's tub, crammed full of cookie dough goodness.


The snow outside her window is a few inches thick, something she's never seen in all her years in North Carolina. She admires how it glistens in the street light, how it's untouched and untainted, a pure brilliant white that gently blankets everything in sight. Flecks are still falling, sparkling as they pass any beams of light still breaking up the night. Beca feels a little like a child, because it's the early hours of Christmas Day and it has actually snowed, and she thinks it might just be the best thing ever.

Beca sits contently on her window seat, looking out at the postcard worthy scene as Christmas music flows quietly through her headphones. She feels calmer now, after her mope with Phillipa and her peaceful evening eating Chinese with her mother and finishing the last mix for her mother's Christmas present. She's almost forgotten the fight with Jesse earlier in the diner, until of course, her phone vibrates in her lap.

From: Weirdo 2:28am
I know you're still up; I can see you sitting in your window. So layer up and get down here. We're going out.

To her great surprise, when she looks up she sees Jesse standing behind the fence that seperates her house from the road, and he waves at her in a thick parka coat and black gloves. His heavy boots have left large footprints in her perfect scenery, and as he waves her down, she feels all the feelings from before rush right back.

So she picks up her phone and texts him back.

To: Weirdo 2:30am
Dude no!

Beca watches him pull his phone out of his pocket, using his teeth to pull off one glove and be able to use his phone. Soon, his reply lights up her screen, and he looks back up at her again expectantly.

From: Weirdo 2:32am
I did not walk all the way from across town on Christmas morning to be turned down now. Hurry up!

She gets the feeling this is not something she is going to get away with, so she stares down at him a moment longer before sighing heavily and throwing the blanket off her legs, quickly searching through her wardrobe for anything suitable (which, considering snow is not exactly a normal occurrence for either state she presides in, dwindles her options significantly).

Dressed in her biker boots and a parka coat tied over her woolliest jumper, she treads lightly across the hallway and down the stairs, easing open the front door as quietly as she can. Jesse is now standing on her porch, his nose and cheeks red and his teeth chattering.

"Are you fucking insane?" she says quietly, angrily, as she takes in just how cold he looks.

"Yes." His eyes bore into her and it makes her feel uncomfortable. "I'm insane because my best friend is mad at me and it just had to be the first real snowfall of her life on the same night, and I made her a promise some time ago to be with her when it happens, so I'm hoping that she'll put our fight to the side for a few hours so I can fulfil my promise and also tell her how much of a dick I am for how I've been the last few months."

Beca crosses her arms tightly against the cold. She's already feeling the chill in her bones; she hates to think how bad it is for Jesse. "Come inside, you look hypothermic."

"No, I promised –"

"Jesse, you just walked all the way from the other side of town for me and I'm not letting that be the thing that kills you, Betty I will never forgive me," she argues, holding open the front door. "Get inside and let me make you some hot chocolate."

Beca, who knows Jesse has a thing for her hot coco, is unsurprised when he eagerly dives into the warm house, rubbing his hands together and stomping his feet as quietly as he can on the welcome mat to get the snow off his boots. Beca helps him pull them off and peel off his hat and coat, running into the living room to grab the blanket thrown over the back of the couch to wrap around him. She takes off her own coat and toes off her boots, leaving her in the slouchy jumper she thinks might actually be Jesse's and a thick pair of leggings.

They stay quiet, too many yet unspoken words hanging heavily between them, and she leads him into the kitchen and gets him settled into a breakfast stool before busying herself with grabbing a pan and all the ingredients from the cupboard.

"You know, this was a really stupid move," she finally says as she pours enough milk out for two.

"I promised you," he replies with a shrug, his teeth still chattering around his words.

"You're an idiot." But there's a small smile across her face at how sweet the whole thing is; that he trekked across town to see her, to try and resolve their fight before it got too out of hand, to fulfil a promise she'd forgotten he made. It really is a stupid idea, but at the same time, she's thrilled he did it. Maybe he really does care after all.

"Only for you."

As she turns on the hob and begins the process of heating the milk, she keeps her back to him, trying not to let him see the inner struggle as she fights the part of her that's already forgiven him. Because he's in the wrong, and she deserves better than the way he's been treating her, but the other side of her is arguing that this is Jesse, that he'd never intentionally hurt her and that despite the change in him recently, he's still the same guy who's stood faithfully at her side for the past two years; the same guy she fell in love with (no matter how much she wishes otherwise).

"I'm sorry, Beca. I didn't realise how much I was leaving you behind." She can hear the sorrow in his voice, the true regret at his actions, and it's enough that the struggle in her weakens a little more.

"Yeah, well." Not knowing how to finish her sentence, she leaves it open.

"I never meant to hurt you, and the fact I have… You know I'd never want that. I hate that I did."

"I just... I miss you, is all," she confesses, finding it easier to say while she's facing away from him, slowly stirring the peanut butter into the milk the way he likes it.

"I'm sorry."

Beca glances over her shoulder to watch him pulling the blanket tighter around him, his nose still a fierce shade of red to rival a certain seasonally-appropriate reindeer. Jesse's dark eyes are trained on her and she flushes a little, quickly refocusing her attention back on the pan.

But then unexpectedly, his frame is pressed behind her and she's engulfed in the fluffy brown blanket too, his arms around her and his cold cheek against her neck that makes her hiss a little at the sharp change of temperature. "Jesse, what are you –"

"I'm initiating Code Honey Bee," he mumbles into her skin, and the breathless laugh escapes her before she can think to stop it because seriously?

"Jesse," she scolds, trying really hard to sound serious, "You are nineteen years of age, grow up already."

"Never!" he cries loudly, tightening his grip around the tops of her arms, and she laughs a little as she hushes him, cautiously of her sleeping mother upstairs. "Not until you forgive me."

"That hardly seems fair."

"Last Christmas, I gave you my heart, but the very next day, you gave it away!" he belts, until she has managed to twist in his arms and slap her hand over his mouth, her lips twitching in a smile despite herself.

"Jesse, you are such a pain in the butt, would you please shut up?"

"Only if you forgive me," comes his muffled response through her fingers, and he ends it by poking his tongue out and licking her palm until she pulls it away in disgust, wiping it down his jumper and turning back to the pan because she's pretty sure she's about to burn the milk.

"I don't want a lot for Christmas, there is just one thing I need-"

"Jesse I need to get the cocoa powder, let me go."

He shuffles towards the pot with her instead, continuing to sing but quieter this time, just loud enough that the words tickle her ear. "I don't care about the presents underneath the Christmas tree…"

"Well that's not true, you love presents," she argues as she piles generous amounts of powder into the pan.

"I just want you for my own, more than you will ever know –"

"Okay, stop, I can't take all this Mariah Carey!" She bats his face away with her free hand as he chuckles, his chest heaving against her back.

"So does that mean you forgive me?" he asks cheekily; she can hear the smug grin in his voice already and it's enough to make her consider letting him carry on with his toneless renditions (that he's doing deliberately, because he obviously has a great voice but he seems to have decided tonight he can't sing a note).

"It's the only way to make you stop singing," she says sadly, "So I guess…"

Jesse is squishing her arms into her ribs as he excitedly lifts her up, and she squeals in surprise as she's ripped away from the pan. Back on solid ground a moment later, she detaches herself from him, ordering him back to the breakfast bar so she can pour their drinks into mugs. She pulls out her favourite and the one he always insists on having – an old, white mug with Beca's handprint from her two year old self printed on the side, the design wearing away a little.

"There's a giant flaw in this plan of yours, you know," she says a few minutes later when they're sipping their drinks and she's sure Jesse is warming up at a suitable rate.

"What's that?"

"It's Christmas day and you have no way of getting home to your family."

Jesse pales a little at the realisation and Beca laughs into her mug, patting his hand sympathetically. "It's okay, mom always makes too much food anyway, and I suppose there's no use letting it go to waste."

His wicked grin almost blinds her and he fumbles underneath the blanket until he's pulled a small package out of his jeans pocket. "Good thing I bought your present then."

Beca bites her lip at the neatly wrapped box shape. She knows what it is without having to open it, and it makes a strange surge of emotion rise up her throat. Looking up at him with glistening eyes, she smiles softly.

"Merry Christmas, Bee," he says quietly.

"Happy Christmas, weirdo."


The cold Canadian air stings in her lungs as she breathes heavily, pushing her back into the tree in a desperate attempt to hide. A Swanson children tradition, the competitive sport of Hide and Seek had come easily to her last year when she first came to be included in the family-wide affair, and it comes easily again, because she's yet to be found within the ten minute time limit that each seeker gets to scour the grounds of the estate (and surviving five rounds without a fault? It's practically unheard of throughout the history of the game).

The ten minutes passes quickly as she focuses her attention on listening for any movement in the orchard around her. The claxon blows, signalling them to return to base, and Beca can't help the little skip in her step as she celebrates her supreme hiding skills.

"Beca!" A shrill voice squeals, and Beca turns to see Cassie – Jesse's little sister – barrelling out of the trees too, aiming right at her as Beca swoops her up in her arms, the breath in her lungs huffing out quickly because wow, the seven year old has definitely gotten heavier since Beca left for college.

"Oh my god you survived too?! High five!" Beca says enthusiastically, slapping her palm against Cassie's who giggles and asks for a piggy back. They walk back across the giant lawn at the back of the house, aiming towards the fountain where Jesse is already sitting with a load of his cousins, one of them – William – celebrating his record of five finds within the time limit.

"There you are!" Jesse calls as Beca and Cassie jog the last stretch. "Let me guess; orchard?"

"Yeah, and Beca didn't even know I was there!" Cassie says excitedly, bouncing a little on Beca's hips. She lets the younger girl down who runs straight to Jesse, starting to babble about her hiding place as Jesse nods, pretending to pay attention as he does a head count.

"Okay, everyone is back!" Jesse announces once Cassie has reached the end of her rant. "And I think I heard Grandma say something about cookies…"

The children shriek and begin running in the direction of the large white tent, leaving Jesse and Beca to laugh as they go. He slings an arm around her shoulders and they begin the walk back slowly. It's close to midnight, to the end of another year, and she can't help peaking at him as he goes quiet. She knows he enjoys the moments like this, just before the countdown, when he can reflect back on his year and look at all the things that have happened to him.

"Big year, huh," she says quietly when a furrow appears between his eyebrows. "We did a lot this year."

"Yeah." He sighs, and she wraps her arm around his ribs. "We grew up."

"Nah." She shakes her head with a small smile. "We only went to college. That's hardly growing up. If anything, we grew down."

He snorts at her pitiful attempt of a joke and finally looks at her, and she's surprised at the hesitance there. He gets it a lot, and she thinks it might be linked to the thing he's keeping from her for whatever reason. She hopes it really isn't that serious, because the longer he keeps it from her, the more she worries, the more extravagant her possibilities get. Is he sick? Is something wrong with his parents? Cassie? Has he learnt something fatal about someone close to them?

Beca plays with her Christmas present from him; a silver necklace with a gentle music note, something he's been promising to buy her for almost as long as she's known him. She hates how much it must have cost him, but the significance of it all is not lost on her. Knowing it's there, that he put that much effort into it to make her happy, makes her hopeful that they'll get through this tense patch.

As they enter the tent, she smiles at Betty who looks up upon their arrival from her conversation. Beca is surprised to see that it is only a few minutes before the countdown begins, and that a hushed excitement is beginning to spread over the tent as the kids run around, weaving between the adults who are laughing and enjoying themselves. Jesse hangs back, and her arm around him causes her to stop too, and she watches him as he takes a few calculating breaths.

"Beca," he begins, and she knows he's being serious by the use of her actual name. "I… I'm glad we went to Barden together."

"Thanks?" she says as more of a question, not really knowing where this is going.

"And you know how sorry I am for how I've been acting recently, right?"

Rolling her eyes, she just nods her head.

"You're my best friend, Bee, you know you mean the world to me."

Tightening her grip around him just a little to make him look at her, she swallows back the quips and instead nods again. "Hey, the feeling's mutual okay, so whatever it is you're freaking out over; stop. I'm not going anywhere."

Jesse just watches her for a moment longer before looking back to the tent, and Beca rests her head on his shoulder, content to spend this last minute of the year with him.

"Well, looks like we're the only lonely hearts left," she jokes, and Jesse laughs uneasily, her eyes darting around the crowded structure as people bunch together in the brisk night air, waiting eagerly for the countdown. His mum and dad, aunts and uncles, his grandparents and his older cousins, all pairing off with their other halves as they listen out for the beginning of the last ten seconds of the year.

"I have to tell you something!" Jesse blurts suddenly, his fingers digging into the skin of her arms as he twists her to look at him. Something coils in her gut; suddenly she doesn't want to know his secret.

"10! 9!" People begin to chant.

"Now?!"

"It's important, you have to know before -"

"8! 7! 6!"

"Jesse -"

"I can't let this year go without telling you."

"5! 4!"

"Jesse –"

"Please, Beca."

"Okay, fine, just tell me."

"3! 2! 1!"

"I'm dating Iris!"

As the stroke of midnight hits, and people cheer happily around them, it's like time slows and the noises are muffled out as they both stand there in their own little bubble. I'm dating Iris. The words reverberate around her, inside her, cracking everything it hits. Beca can do nothing but stare up in horror at her best friend, her heart shattering with the turn of the year.


So some notes:

Peanut Butter Fudge Day does exist(November 20th), as does Ferris Wheel Day (February 14th) and Your Welcomegiving Day (the day after Thanksgiving). I did my research on those ones.

There are a lot of references in this one, including Foundations - Kate Nash (chapter title), The Avengers (2012), The House on Sorority Row (1985), Corpse Bride (2005), The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975), Mean Girls (2004), Community (2009 - Present), Winnie the Pooh - A. A. Milne (First appearance 1924), Oops I Did It Again - Britney Spears, Last Christmas - Wham, All I Want For Christmas Is You - Mariah Carey... and maybe some more that I didn't notice upon my idiot check. I don't reference a lot so I'm going to try and do better.