AN: I appreciate everyone who is still reading this story. I also welcome any and all reviews. To those of you reviewing every chapter, I thank you very much. I always smile when I read your reviews. I am aiming to get one more chapter posted before I go out of town late next week for a conference. Until then…

Quinn gave up on Rachel showing. It was four-fifteen. Rachel was punctual – it was a mark of professionalism, she'd said – and, anyway, she would've let her know if she was running late. She'd stood her up. It was that easy.

But Quinn couldn't seem to leave. She was back on the blanket again. She watched as the sun made its slow descent into dusk. What had she done wrong? She turned over onto her stomach and buried her face in the blanket to stifle a scream of frustration. What did Rachel want from her? She flipped around. It was becoming increasingly apparent that Rachel must not want anything from her at all. She sat up and flexed her fingers. Maybe they should've talked this morning. Quinn scolded herself for putting it off. She flopped back down on the blanket. This must be about Finn. He'd gotten to her. She rolled over onto her side. Or…Rachel had decided she wanted him instead of Quinn?

"Quinn!"

She jerked up and squinted her eyes against the sun. It was Rachel!

"Where the hell have you been?" Quinn wished she could keep the hurt and anger from seeping out through her words.

"I am so sorry, Quinn. I felt I needed to speak with Finn before seeing you. And…and the conversation took an unexpected turn to which I was less than prepared."

"And what kind of turn might that be?" She couldn't quite let go of her anger.

"Well, Kurt came up with the idea to have Finn serenade me." Rachel looked over at Quinn.

What was it about that stupid Glee club that had everybody thinking the only way they could truly express emotion was through song? It was ridiculous.

"Go on."

"And Kurt trapped me after class. Right after class, I swear! And Blaine blind-folded me!" Rachel paused. "Please stop looking at me like that, Quinn."

"I wasn't aware that looking at you was such a crime."

"I clearly meant the way you are looking at me."

Quinn shut her eyes. She had an awful feeling about where this was headed. Something about the sheepish way Rachel kept darting her eyes across Quinn's face, never quite daring to make direct eye contact, had Quinn rattled.

"Go on."

"So, they led me to the auditorium. And Finn was there."

"Of course Finn was there!" Quinn snapped. "Isn't that the whole point of your story?" She knew she shouldn't interrupt Rachel. She should stop looking for a fight. But she had her defenses up. And she felt like it was for good reason. Rachel just hadn't revealed the reason…yet.

"Go on."

"All the boys from Glee were there…and even some of the football players! I couldn't leave. I couldn't humiliate him like that. Not in front of everyone!" Rachel was practically whining.

"Oh, but it was okay for you to humiliate me? Oh my God, Rachel, do you hear yourself?"

"Quinn…this was…this was, I don't know, different! No one but us knew we were supposed to meet. I wasn't trying to humiliate you. I would've hurt Finn if I'd left! Don't make this about you."

"But it is about me!" Quinn pounded her chest. Rachel flinched. "What if I'd left, Rachel, what then?"

"I would've found you." Rachel took a step toward Quinn.

"Don't!" The word came out harsher than Quinn intended.

Rachel paused and took a step away from Quinn. She looked down at her feet. "I agreed to see him tomorrow night."

Quinn's heart slammed in her chest.

"I can't just end it with him. I've got to…I can't…" Rachel started crying.

Quinn felt painfully dizzy. She put her hands on her knees and took a deep breath.

"I'll end it, I promise, but not now. I can't…I'd hurt him."

Quinn lifted her head. "So…you don't want to hurt Finn. But it's okay to hurt me. Did I get that right, Rachel?"

"I don't want to hurt you. Please…" Rachel moved toward Quinn again. Quinn stepped back and shook her head violently. Rachel backed away for a second time.

"Quinn, I won't hurt you. I just need some time!"

"But you're already hurting me!" Quinn lashed out. "You're the one that made the stupid mistake of going back to him!"

Rachel bristled. "Oh, and your well-thought out plan to pull me out of my bed by my hair and bruise my wrists was, what, exactly? A genius decision?"

Quinn winced. She tried to catch Rachel's eye. Finally, she succeeded. She'd made mistakes. She'd overreacted. She'd delayed talking to Rachel because she could never seem to say the right thing. But maybe she could change that. Get Rachel to drop this foolish plan.

"I love you." It was the only thing she could say that she knew was true and real and right.

"It's too soon for you to say something like that. We never even talk! We just have sex!"

Quinn felt a cold numbness settle over her. She knew that Rachel couldn't crawl inside her mind and read her thoughts. Knew Rachel had no idea that it wasn't too soon to say she loved her because Quinn had loved her since she was fifteen. But they really hadn't talked. Not in years. They'd avoided each other. Or fought. Or, lately, had sex. Rachel couldn't know that sex was a way for Quinn to show Rachel how she felt. She'd never trusted herself to actually tell Rachel. And her instincts had been correct. Rachel wasn't interested in hearing how she felt.

She crouched down again. She was having trouble controlling her urge to run away. Rachel was placing more value on Finn's love – was he even in love with Rachel? – over Quinn's feelings for her. And she didn't even believe Quinn loved her! If her love wasn't enough for Rachel, there was nothing left for them. She reached for her bag and stalked past Rachel. She left the blanket behind. She figured she didn't need it anymore.

Rachel tried to stop her. She yelled at Quinn. She pleaded with her. She grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back. Quinn shrugged her off. Quinn ignored her. She dove in front of Quinn and blocked her from getting inside her car. Quinn walked around to the passenger side, unlocked the door, and crawled across the console. Rachel thumped her fists against Quinn's window. Quinn ignored her. When Quinn glanced in her rearview mirror after pulling out of her parking spot, Rachel was still beating the air with her fists.

(Break)

After Quinn had left her in the parking lot of McKinley, Rachel had retraced her steps and snatched up the blanket. Brittany's words had played over and over in her mind: "When we weren't together." She wasn't sure that having the blanket or, later, tracing the letters of Quinn's notes with the tips of her fingers was making her feel better. But she understood the deeper point behind Brittany's words: When you're not with the person you love, at least you can still have something of them with you.

Sleep proved a challenge. She tried counting backwards from 1,000. Took Tylenol PM. Listened to soothing music. Turned on her TV and found a really boring science program. But each time she'd drift off, she'd hear "I love you" and the vision of Quinn would ghost behind her eyelids. Quinn had said she loved her and Rachel had played it off. And they'd been in this very bed not two weeks ago when Rachel had tried to tell Quinn the same. But Rachel had been in love with Quinn since she was fifteen! Still, Rachel had no right to dictate Quinn's feelings. Quinn had reacted violently when Rachel had been about to declare her love, but her response to Quinn's confession was way too passive. She wondered which of them had handled the situation worse. In the end, she could see no real difference between the two.

She thought back to their conversation and realized those were the last words Quinn had said to her: I love you. Rachel threw the sheet from her body in frustration. But why say I love you and then leave? Where was the fight in Quinn? Rachel sat up and stretched. She wondered if Quinn meant it, or if those were words that she could say on a whim, to anyone. She rolled onto her stomach and exhaled loudly. Quinn exhausted her. Made her overthink. Made her lose sleep. It was too complex, too much! And, again, they weren't even talking! Just arguing. Or, lately, having sex. And Quinn wasn't likely to speak to her anytime soon, not after their encounter under the bleachers. Rachel needed to let it go, at least for now. At least so she could sleep.

And, finally, she did. In her dreams she found herself knocking on Quinn's bedroom door. Over and over. Each time, Quinn wouldn't let her come inside.

Rachel felt drained and empty the next day. She almost asked her fathers if she could stay home from school. But she decided against it. School was her best chance at being near Quinn. She'd briefly seen Quinn that morning at McKinley. The blonde had walked past her in the hallway, flanked by Santana and Brittany, and refused to meet her gaze. It was like sophomore year all over again. She half expected Quinn to be wearing a Cheerios uniform. Rachel had simply closed her eyes and tried to shake the nausea that had been plaguing her since the night before.

Rachel spent her lunch break under the bleachers. She'd told Finn she wasn't feeling well. He'd clumsily swiped a hand across her forehead in search of a fever. She convinced him it was probably something she ate that morning that wasn't settling well. And maybe it was best that she avoid the cafeteria; lest the smell of food cause a bad reaction. He'd gone to join Puck and she'd made her way outside.

She had hoped Quinn might be under the bleachers; drawn to the spot just like Rachel. But no such luck. Rachel spread out Quinn's blanket and turned onto her side. She dozed off under the warmth of the sun and the scent of Quinn that lingered on the blanket. She was back at Quinn's bedroom door in her dream. She knocked and knocked. And Quinn ignored and ignored.

Rachel awoke, groggy and disoriented, to the shriek of the bell. She wasn't surprised when Brittany turned her back on her when she entered the art room. Rachel collapsed into her chair and faced Brittany.

"Help me. Please." Rachel whispered.

Brittany's lower lip started to tremble. "Santana said I shouldn't talk to you."

"Fuck Santana!" Both girls were startled by Rachel's response. Rachel clamped her hand over her mouth and Brittany looked near tears. But Rachel had to keep going.

"Just…just help me!" Rachel grabbed Brittany's hands.

"But you hurt Quinn. You picked Finn." A lone tear trailed down Brittany's face. She swiped at it and tried to pull away. Rachel gripped the cheerleader's hands tighter.

"Ask her to talk to me."

"I tried. Yesterday. When she was at San's. But you hurt her. You picked Finn." Brittany repeated. The trembling of her bottom lip picked up speed. "I know what you're trying to do. I did it with Artie. Finn's a good guy, so is Artie. I didn't want to hurt him. I lost San for a while. And Quinn is way more stubborn than Santana."

Brittany paused and looked over at Rachel. Another tear trickled down her cheek. Rachel reached up and brushed it away. Brittany sighed. "I don't think she'll come back to you."

Coming from the always optimistic Brittany, those words felt like a punch to the stomach.

But just because she couldn't have Quinn, that didn't mean she wanted Finn. She was going to have to break it off with him. She should've done it yesterday, even if it had wounded his pride. She could've pulled him aside. Taken him to an empty classroom, for instance, and told him the truth. She thought delaying the inevitable would somehow make everything better. It would have given her more time to figure out how to let him down gently and salvage their friendship. But all she'd really done is push Quinn away when they were finally moving forward.

Tonight would be different. She'd tell him tonight. And maybe, just maybe, Quinn would forgive her. Rachel was determined to prove Brittany wrong: Quinn would come back.

(Break)

Quinn sat in her room that night and tried not to think of Rachel's date with Finn. For the most part, it was working. Because Quinn Fabray had made a decision about her life and all it was going to take to get her way was a conversation with her father.

When her parents had announced their divorce during the end of her sophomore year, Quinn took the news very well. She'd been too busy trying not to think about Beth. Or Rachel. She still wasn't on speaking terms with her father at the time, anyway, so his complete absence from her life made little difference.

He'd moved a few counties over from Lima. Quinn didn't see him for months. She thought it was for the best. He'd badly hurt her when he found out about her pregnancy. He'd abandoned her, actually. Kicked her out of her home. She had been secretly relieved when her mother finally wised up and left him when she learned of his affair.

Slowly – very slowly – her father tried to rebuild his relationship with Quinn. At first it was through money. Russell would send his daughter checks through the mail. And, when she turned seventeen, he got her a credit card with an unlimited balance. Such was the perks of being the daughter of a very wealthy man. Quinn knew he was trying to buy his way into her good graces. But the money always came in handy, so who was she to complain?

But then he started calling her. At first she let the calls go to voicemail. Each time he left her a message: I'm sorry. I love you. Can we make things better between us? One day, Quinn answered the phone. They'd had a brief but cordial conversation. She had agreed to meet him for dinner the following week. Now, they spoke every other day and she went to visit him at least once a month.

As Quinn grew closer to her father, she was also distancing herself from her mother. She wasn't playing sides. It was just that Judy Fabray's drinking was getting more and more out of control, and it scared Quinn. She would sometimes mention it to her father. And Russell would sometimes – but not every time he saw her, he didn't want to push - casually offer Quinn something she now found herself more than ready to accept.

He'd asked her to move in with him. He knew she probably didn't want to switch schools, especially since it was her senior year. But Quinn now found the idea very, very appealing.

She called her father. He was thrilled. He'd work out all the details and Quinn could move in over the weekend. She'd start at her new school the following Monday, assuming there were no issues with the transfer. Quinn didn't think there'd be any problems at all. And if there were, well, Russell Fabray was a very powerful and influential man. He'd sort it out. She ended the conversation and felt lighter, freer, better.

Only four more days, she thought. Four more days at McKinley. Four more days of having to glance down the hall during lunch break and see Finn reach out to touch Rachel. Rachel had said she wanted to end things with Finn, but they'd looked closer than ever. Four more days. Four more days and she'd be rid of Rachel Berry for good.