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This chapter is not as exciting as the last one, but it sets a lot of things in motion. I can't decide whether it's filler or the calm before the storm.
I.
He misses Rachel.
With the show over and Finn gone, everything feels like it should be normal between the two of them again. Sometimes, he can't even remember why he had been so eager to push her away in the first place.
He realizes now just how much time they used to spend together. Now he has nothing but time to concentrate on finals and making up the shifts he missed for rehearsal; endless hours to dwell on the fact that, beneath all the anger, he's still hopelessly in love with her.
He doesn't even notice he hasn't seen Autumn since the show ended until she starts texting him about random things – she happens to see Colin Firth walking in Soho (it's New York, honey, get used to it), or she watches a movie that she thinks he "absolutely" shouldn't miss.
His former costar is careful about never crossing the friendship line, but it's obvious that she's thinking about him when he's not thinking about her.
(Word to the wise, ladies: kiss of death.)
What he does notice is that it's been five days, and he hasn't so much as laid eyes on Rachel. He doesn't quite know what to do about that.
Correction, he does know, but he can't bring himself to face her inevitable rejection.
On the sixth day, he's practically jumping every time the door to Starbucks opens, because he needs her to walk through that door.
Just walk through the door, Rachel.
Please.
No dice. What he does get is a bubbly, demanding Brooklyn broad (he's been in Manhattan long enough that his distaste is almost automatic) who is way too much to deal with at six in the morning.
But she's kind of a sweetheart, babbling on about writing some how-to guide on rediscovering love after a failed marriage that had cost her most of her youth. Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.
He's so far gone that even the way this woman draws him into a conversation he doesn't really want to have reminds him of Rachel and how he finds her well-intentioned intensity endearing.
When he preps her order (skinny vanilla latte with cinnamon and a "dollop" of whipped crème, for the record) she takes a sip, sighs, and asks him, "Now what can I help you with? Is there a woman in your life?"
Now he's praying that anyone walks through the door. He has never been one for talking about his feelings, and, seriously, he'd take another go with Finn over talking about Rachel with this woman.
He feels crappy enough about that situation as it is.
But he's stuck. In some absurd twist of fate, everyone's skipping his or her daily caffeine fix this morning. Plus, this woman has this way of looking him in the eye that he would almost say was flirtatious, had she not been quite obviously in her forties and sporting a rock the size of Jupiter.
"I'm seeing someone," he mumbles noncommittally, reminding himself that he has no more 'get out of jail free' cards with his manager after dousing Finn with syrup and milk.
(Still completely worth it, by the way.)
"And?" the woman prompts, taking a sip of her drink.
"And … it's complicated," Jesse says, running a hand through his hair.
The woman rolls her eyes, but smiles at him. "I'm not going to get anything out of you, am I?"
Jesse laughs and shakes his head.
"Sorry. She and I … we sort of defy explanation."
"But she's worth it, I assume…?"
Jesse is silent for a long time. "You know, I used to think so. Today, I'm not so sure."
He pauses once more and looks at the woman. "That can't be good, can it?"
"No," she empathizes, shaking her head and looking down. "It's not."
II.
After almost a week of thinking over her breakup strategy, Rachel asks Jesse to meet her at a tiny Italian place not far from campus.
The maître d' seats her in the heated garden while she waits for Jesse, and Rachel chides herself for unknowingly picking such a romantic spot for this particular conversation.
But, after a week of Jesse not coming around the dorm and Rachel not gushing over their relationship, all the girls were starting to get suspicious. Consequently, the conversation to set their breakup in action is doubling as date night.
Sigh. How she got herself into this situation she will never know.
Always ahead of schedule, Rachel is fiddling with the ends of the pretty tablecloth when Jesse walks in right on time.
He is carrying a bottle of wine since the restaurant is BYOB, and it makes her smile. He's not legal as yet, of course, but he can accomplish a great many things thanks to his questionable fake ID and, moreover, that infamous St. James smile.
Her dads had allowed her to drink wine at home with them once she became a teenager, and it was one of the things that she and Jesse had bonded over this year. Tunnel, a hole in the wall and relatively inexpensive liquor store near his neighborhood, had become one of their routine spots.
The attentive waitress immediately uncorks their bottle and pours each of them a glass, which distracts for a while from the unease of beginning their first exchange since he left her in his bed almost a week ago.
"Hey," she starts clumsily. "Thanks for bringing wine."
He shrugs, masking the importance of his next words. "I know it's your favorite."
See? These are the things that make her remember why she loves him. Bringing her favorite wine? That right there is the Jesse St. James version of an apology for being a complete dick to her at the cast wrap party.
It doesn't solve any of their more major problems, but it's nice to know that he realizes he had been in the wrong, too. It will make the next few days that much more manageable.
"I've been thinking a lot about our breakup," she tells him as the waitress leaves the table. Rachel takes a deep, calming breath. "And I've decided that an epic, stressful breakup isn't what either of us need right now. We have finals coming up, my first finals ever in college, and I want to be as focused as possible on my work. I just think it would be best if we hold out until the end of the semester, and officially go our separate ways during the holiday break. We'll figure out what to tell people, but I'm sure they will accept that we grew apart or that our star-crossed love story was just too good to be true."
As she waits for his answer, she contemplates some of her more selfish reasons for keeping him on as her boyfriend, and not allowing them to break up just yet. Obviously, she doesn't want to be distracted by a breakup during finals, but she also doesn't want to be alone for her birthday. This way they can celebrate together, even if it is all a pretense, and she can live out fantasies she has had since she first met him at fifteen. Her plan also works because it gives her all three weeks of Christmas break to cry over him, and then ultimately get over him and design a show face for all the girls come January.
"Okay," he finally says, interrupting her thoughts.
She can't help a hopeful smile. "Really?"
The need to clarify something momentarily mars her happiness. "And you can … hold out until then?"
She silently prays he gets her meaning, because she can't bring herself to ask him directly if he can stay away from Autumn until the end of the semester.
He nods, but she's not sure he is aware of the point behind her question. "Your reasoning makes sense, and I'm sure I can survive being with you for another week."
He says "survive" jokingly, seemingly trying to be ironic, but it makes her heart plummet.
The waitress comes to take their orders just as Rachel surreptitiously slides checks for the last two weeks across the table to him.
It may be overly dramatic, but she really hopes that she can survive without him when the time comes.
III.
Weirdly enough, things go almost completely back to normal between them over the next couple of days.
They're not doing anything remotely sexual, but they regress into their (other) old habits of studying at his place, cracking each other up, and feeding themselves with whatever concoction manages to come out of his crockpot.
What's more, she hasn't heard him mention Autumn at all. It's almost as if Rachel can forget the other girl even existed.
All this means that Rachel is feeling pretty good about their relationship, you know, except for the fact that it's a ticking time bomb. Thankfully, the craziness of finals distracts her enough from that reality, until Anna makes a point to remind her of it.
After her first couple of finals, Rachel makes use of the four-day gap before her next one to go pay her therapist a visit.
She should have known that Anna's sole goal would be to burst her bubble.
Rachel explains the agreement that she and Jesse have come to about their breakup timeline, and Anna is oddly quiet as she listens.
"So," Anna broaches carefully, "Do you think that you achieved what you set out to? Has this relationship with Jesse made you more popular, more accepted, at NYU?"
Rachel twirls the ends of her ponytail around her finger, thinking about all the new girlfriends she has in her dorm, and about the fact that Sawyer Paul now sends her funny, flirtatious text messages everyday.
"I think so," Rachel states carefully, because she knows that Anna is going somewhere with this line of questioning.
"So, come January, when you no longer have Jesse in your life, having friends and finding another boyfriend will be a piece of cake?"
Rachel shrugs. "I haven't given much thought to January as yet," she answers delicately. "I have all break to think about that, and I'm just glad that Jesse and I are in a good place right now."
"Why does that matter?' Anna asks harshly, surprising Rachel with her brashness. "In about a week, your relationship will be nonexistent."
Rachel tries to swallow the lump in her throat before answering, but the lump refuses to budge.
"Rachel," Anna chides, sounding almost loving, in stark contrast to the tone she had used just a moment ago. "You can't still be hoping that he will somehow change his mind and want to be with you when this ends."
Rachel looks away from Anna, still unable to say anything. Somehow, Anna pitying her and consoling her is far worse than the normally commanding and always-right tone she usually employs, and that Rachel has come to rely on.
"I went to see him," Anna confesses out of nowhere. "Maybe I shouldn't have, and it was probably wrong of me, but I wanted coffee, and I decided to go to his Starbucks… half an hour out of my way."
Anna watches Rachel's reaction as she continues speaking. "I didn't tell him who I was, of course, and I didn't say anything about you, but I asked him about the girl in his life…"
"What did he say?" Rachel interrupts eagerly, thankfully sounding curious instead of upset.
Anna hesitates and Rachel rolls her eyes. "You can't spring this on me and then not tell me what he said, Anna."
Her therapist waivers, tapping her pen idly against the notepad she holds in her hand.
"He wouldn't tell me much because, apparently, he's harder to crack than you," Anna attempts to joke, "But he did say that things were complicated."
Rachel folds her arms. "That's it? You're a crummy detective, Anna. No offense."
Rachel laughs a little, but she realizes that Anna hasn't joined in on the joke.
"That's not it. Is it? He said something else? Something bad? About me? About us?"
Anna hates herself for having to bring Rachel back down to Earth, but she feels that she would be doing an even greater injustice if she doesn't caution Rachel before the young girl gets her hopes up too high.
"I asked him if you were worth it," Anna says after a while, "If your relationship was worth all the complication."
"And?" Rachel says, obviously dreading the answer.
"And," Anna presses on, "He said he used to think so, but he doesn't anymore."
Rachel brushes away a tear.
"I'm sorry, honey," Anna consoles. "But I think you have to face reality."
IV.
She doesn't know at what point between leaving Anna's office and arriving at home that she decides to fight for him, just that by the time she arrives at her dorm her mind is made up.
She had spent a whole week thinking about it, and she refuses to accept that them finding each other again is mere coincidence, even if Anna now seems thoroughly convinced.
She had missed him. That was the reason behind her inviting him back into her life again. They were in New York, the place where Rachel had always envisioned them together, and they could do everything they had always dreamed of back when they used to give impromptu concerts in the music store back in Ohio.
She is going to show him that she is still worth it; that all that they are and all they will become will forever be worth it.
V.
Something's up with Rachel.
She has been extra touchy-feely lately, even when no one is around, and he has to restrain himself from touching her in a way that leaves no room for interpretation, or blurting out that she's making it really hard for him to pretend to not be in love with her.
Things have been going really well between them lately, and he doesn't want to think that, in a couple of days, it will all be over.
What's worse is that her birthday is coming up – she's going to be eighteen - and he can't help but think that it merits an epic celebration.
But what do you get your fake girlfriend for her birthday when her birthday is one of the last days that you will be a couple?
Yeah, he's pretty sure there's no Hallmark card for that.
In his head, he also knows that her birthday would also be the opportune time to declare his feelings for her.
He also knows that, if she was into him, that would be the perfect present for her. She always did like those classic, blockbuster-movie declarations of love.
She comes over on Tuesday night to study for her last final, armed with her usual backpack and lunch-bag, plus a large shopping bag with a fancy wrapped present inside it.
He opens the door for her and peeks inside the shopping bag as she shrugs off her coat, scarf, and earmuffs.
"Early birthday present?" he pries, knowing that she's so particular about what she wants that she's not above buying it for herself.
She shakes her head. "Wedding present for Finn and Quinn," she informs him. "They didn't register so I have no idea what they need, but I found these vintage floral placemats that I think Quinn will like."
He shouldn't be as surprised as he is. He had read the email inviting her to the bridal shower and rehearsal dinner over her shoulder one night, but the determination with which she had scanned the email and then closed it had convinced him that the concept of a Finn/Quinn wedding upset her greatly.
That she would so calmly buy the happy couple a present and consider attending the wedding is not something he would have expected.
"You got them a present?" he asks stupidly, looking into the bag again as if the contents of the gift would magically reveal itself.
"I haven't read any of the etiquette books on the subject," Rachel states playfully, "But I'm pretty sure you bring gifts to a wedding."
"I didn't realize you were going," Jesse says while plugging in the electric kettle to make their first cups of coffee for the night. "I guess I just thought…"
He trails off, not exactly sure how to finish his sentence. "Never mind."
Rachel shrugs. "Finn could have handled things better, but he just accelerated something that would have happened eventually. If I were still with him, there is no way that I would have made it to NYU. No way that I would be here."
They don't talk about it any more than that, but, for the rest of the night, Jesse can't help but wonder if she meant here as in New York, or here as in here with him.
VI.
"Wake up," Rachel whispers, gently shaking him awake.
He opens his eyes to see that Rachel is kneeling by his yoga mat, fully dressed.
"What's going on? What time is it?"
"Almost three," Rachel tells him, throwing him his jeans and a shirt. "We have to get going. Put on as many layers as you can."
"Where are we going?" he asks her groggily. "We both have finals tomorrow." And, even though it makes no sense, he adds, "And tomorrow is your birthday!"
She chuckles, obviously much more awake than he is. "I'll explain on the way. Get up!"
They make their way to midtown and to the Gershwin theater, which, for two weeks, is reuniting almost the entire Wicked OBC.
It's an opportunity that she hadn't wanted them to miss, and only the start of the perfect New York day she has planned for them.
Even at three am, there is a formidable number of people attempting the seven-hour wait until the box office opens, despite the fact that the temperature is in the teens.
They join the back of the line and a still-sleepy Jesse immediately sits down on the ground, his head leaning back against the wall, only nodding in response when Rachel promises to return with coffee and food.
When she returns with Trenta-sized lattes and an arsenal of baked goods, the girl behind Jesse goes into full-on bitch mode when Rachel attempts to join the line behind Jesse.
"He was obviously keeping my space while I went to get us nourishment," Rachel attempts to explain, much more short-tempered than her normal self at three in the morning.
"Well, he should have done a better job," the girl quips in a faux-sweet voice. "No cuts in line." Behind the girl, Rachel hears muttered agreement.
"I wasn't trying to save her a space," Jesse speaks up, causing both Rachel and the bitch to shoot him an incredulous look.
Carefully, he reaches for the drink holder and bag Rachel is carrying and lowers them to the ground, then he grabs her arm and navigates her so that she is sitting between his spread legs, her tiny frame taking up no more space than he had previously occupied.
'There," he says with a possessive throw of his arm over her, which causes Rachel to blush and the girl to fume.
They enjoy their breakfast as they snuggle closer together for warmth. Rushing a show in thirteen-degree weather is no joke.
After his coffee, Jesse is much more awake than he was before. "This was a great idea," he tells her, speaking directly into her ear since they are still so close together. "Except I'm really missing that Snuggie of yours right now. I'm freezing my balls off."
Rachel signals to the bag she is carrying with a smile.
"You didn't," Jesse states disbelievingly, as he opens the bag and retrieves the blanket.
"I plan for everything," she assures him, "And I could not forget the Elphaba Snuggie on the day we see Idina in Wicked. I think I'm going to ask her to autograph it!"
"You are amazing," he tells her as he ensures that the Snuggie covers them both, the need for warmth outweighing the embarrassment he would normally profess at being seen with the thing.
"You know," the girl behind them starts up again, "That kind of thing is illegal in public. Don't make me call the cops."
"Is that a threat?" Jesse challenges, making a show of trailing his hand alongside Rachel's cheek, then down her covered neck, then slowly into the no man's land covered by the Snuggie.
The girl can't see what he is doing under the blanket, so there is no reason to go as far as he does, grazing his thumb across Rachel's nipple until he can feel it protrude through the layers of wool she is wearing.
He takes great pleasure in the gasp that Rachel tries hard to mask as he starts a flicking motion, and decides to save her from further embarrassment by covering his mouth with hers.
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you kill seven hours in line while rushing a show.
VII.
After they get tickets to Wicked, Rachel drags him to the skating rink in Bryant Park because they have a few hours before the show starts.
He hates ice-skating, and lobbies for them to do something indoors, but anything indoors would probably mean that they have to talk about whatever it is that they're doing today, and he's pretty sure that neither of them is ready for that step.
Avoidance gets him to this point – gripping tightly to the edge of the rink while Rachel attempts to persuade him to join her on the ice.
Here's the thing: he doesn't trust these skates. He's a born dancer and he can admire the grace and athleticism it takes to do this, but he doesn't understand the logic, or the physics, behind balancing yourself while standing on two thin blades of steel that are sharp enough to sever, well, pretty much anything.
One wrong fall, and he could chop himself in the leg (or worse). Someone could come over and skate right over his fingers. It just doesn't seem like a good idea. Okay?
"Come on," Rachel urges him. "Don't be a baby." She's laughing, and she looks happier than he has seen her in a long time.
She, of course, has been doing this since she could walk, and he's not exactly looking forward to showing her how much this kind of terrifies him.
She skates over to him and grasps him around the waist, holding tight. "Trust me," she says so that no one else can hear her. "I've got you."
She's looking at him in this way that makes his insides flip-flop. She's not making fun of him as he thought she would.
"Fine," he says, trying to make it sound like it's not a big deal, but he reaches instinctively for her waist as he detaches himself from the wall.
"Don't. Look. Down," Rachel commands. "Just look at me."
He does. Maybe his dance training has served him well, but they're moving together in short bursts alongside the edge of the rink. Rachel, ever a great teacher, is not moving him too far from his comfort zone of the wall.
They do one entire lap, and when they get back to where they started, Rachel claps her hands, as do some little girls that have likely been watching them the whole time.
"See?" she says, "We made it."
She lifts her arms from his waist to around his neck and moves to kiss him, but she second-guesses herself at the last second, lowering her forehead to his chest.
"I think we disappointed our audience by not kissing," he whispers in her ear, waving at the little girls that are still watching them. "Mind if I rectify that?"
Her smile is big and goofy as she nods, and there is no way in hell that she's faking it.
Right?
VIII.
The show and its five encores are all amazing, but, by the end of it, they've been awake for so long that they pick up dinner and head back to his place for an early night. Both of them have finals the following afternoon.
They are recapping the show and eating slices of cheese pizza on his bed, when he pointedly grabs the almost empty box and moves it to the kitchen counter.
She is biting her lip as he walks back towards the bed.
"We should probably … talk," Jesse starts, uncharacteristically nervous.
Rachel nods as he sits back down next to her on the bed.
Neither of them knows exactly how it happens, but, soon after, she's on her back and under him, her hands adamant in their efforts to get his shirt off.
"Rach," he says at some point later, when his hands are threading through her hair.
She shakes her head at him. She doesn't want to talk.
"Please touch me," she pleads, kissing, then sucking, on his Adam's apple - his weak spot, she knows - until he does exactly what she wants.
IX.
Once again, she wakes up in his bed as he's getting dressed to leave.
Seeing that she is awake, he comes over to her and kisses her on the cheek.
"Happy Birthday," he says in a soft voice. "I have to go. My final is in an hour."
"Will I see you later?" she asks, sitting up in bed, "I should be done with my final at around four, and then I'll be free."
She can see the moment he hesitates, and it absolutely kills her.
"I have to work tonight until closing," he informs her. "I'm sorry."
She's expecting him to follow up with maybe seeing her tomorrow, or apologizing for not spending time with her on her birthday, but those are things only a real boyfriend would do.
He leaves, and she collapses back onto the bed, wondering how she's going to get a few final hours of studying in when she feels as if he just crushed her heart in his fist.
From out of nowhere, there are two successive beeps, and she realizes that he had left his phone still plugged in by the bed in his rush to get out the door.
She picks up the phone in case he returns for it, and doesn't think twice about reading the text message the screen proclaims just arrived from Autumn.
Hey! We still on for tonight? Can't wait ;-)
Her tears burn as they fall. How could she have done this again? She realizes she and Jesse have nothing left to say to each other.
Autumn has said all there is to be said.