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May - Senior Year

Can We Stop? I Have to Pee.

After duvets, laundry baskets, bathroom fixtures, an area rug, sheets, and towels, Quinn figured she and Rachel would have a pretty clear idea of where they were heading. But no, somehow it was even greyer.

Something inside her felt free and joyful. Watching Rachel laugh, bantering with her, teasing her, remembering them together, it made Quinn light on her feet. She wanted it every day and every minute of every day.

But then that feeling of merriment rolled over itself and churned in her stomach. Thoughts flooded her, thoughts of the six months she was attempting to forget. She cringed while thinking about the most recent holidays and their demise. It all got so messy and so quick. She could barely look at Rachel then for fear of what she'd see.

Slowly they were trying to unravel this mess, but how do eighteen and almost-eighteen even begin to unravel something so large? Quinn had no idea. Every day over the past six months she'd felt lost. And if she was being honest, it started even before that. It started in September when they visited Juilliard.

Quinn shook her head at the memory. That trip wrecked her, wrecked her good. She should've expected it, right? At least she felt like she should've expected it. Somehow thinking she should've seen it coming made her feel more justified.

It didn't work. She still felt miserable at how she'd acted and what she'd done and not done. The feelings spread over her and her chin threatened to set loose yet again. When would it stop quivering out of the blue?

Control, Quinn, she had to have it.

One step at a time they would figure this out. They would figure it out together and everything would be okay. Everything would be okay.

"Q?" she heard. She turned to her bedroom door as it creaked open and a blonde head popped inside.

"Hey Britt," she smiled and shifted over on the bed. "Come on in."

Brittany grinned that beaming, innocent smile and pranced into the room before flopping herself on Quinn's bed. She sprawled back, stretched out in her Cheerios' sweats, and took a relaxing breath.

"How was practice?"

"Coach Sylvester is trying to kill us," Brittany muttered, "and on the weekend! Surely, that's illegal in Ohio."

"She wouldn't actually hurt you guys. You're her bread and butter."

"She doesn't want to eat us, she wants to kill us. She put me in a human sling shot and the only reason she didn't release me was because Santana hid her cut-the-rope, launching ax."

"Oh."

"Yeah! So instead, she made us run the track and told us we couldn't stop until we got to the end. I passed out before I made it. I never pass out!"

"Wait, the end of what?"

"The track."

"That track is a circle," Quinn said and watched the slow, slow wheels turning behind those bright blue eyes and blonde bangs. After some long, curious seconds, the light flashed behind them.

"You are so right."

"Mhm. Sorry, B. She got you."

"I'm so tired of getting got. It's exhausting," she moaned and curled her head into the crook of Quinn's outstretched arm. Cradling it, Quinn ran her fingers over her best friend's bangs, shuffling a few strands every which direction. She and Brittany became inseparable when everything went down last winter. She was the one glee club member to reach out to Quinn.

But Quinn never expected anything less; Brittany reached out senior year just like she'd reached out in fifth grade during gymnastics. Quinn swirled around the high bar, lost her grip and landed horizontal on the mats below. She hit it, hard, like a pancake to the pan, and after rolling over, she looked up to the bright fluorescent ceiling while groaning and landed on brilliant eyes and an even bigger smile.

"You sound like my uncle Ned after Thanksgiving," were the first words out of Brittany's mouth. Quinn managed to control her groaning and release a giggle. It kicked things off beautifully for them. Brittany's innocence was intoxicating. It fit perfectly with Quinn's zest for life at the time and their athleticism bonded keep them hip to hip for years to come.

The day it ended with Rachel, officially, Brittany showed up and Quinn knew she'd be the one friend from high school who she'd keep with her always. It was as simple as that. There were no games with Brittany. What you see is what you get. Quinn loved never having to doubt, to question, to ponder, to find implications in her actions. There was never a hidden level to analyze.

Brittany gave good love; it was a clear as that. And, frankly, it's all Quinn ever wanted from anyone: good love. So with Britt, she found it very, very easy to return. Their friendship took flight and never faltered, even on days when Sue did everything in her power to break the girl's spirit.

"Look Britt, how about on Friday we steal her Coach of the Year trophy and jello it? We can leave it on her desk Monday morning. How's that sound?"

"What's 'jello it' mean?" Brittany asked.

"We make a big bowl of jello and place the trophy right in the middle before it solidifies."

"Solidifies."

"Turns hard and wiggly. And after, we take the big mold of jiggles, trophy inside, and we set it on her desk," Quinn grinned and Brittany beamed.

"That sounds perfect. I'm game," she smirked, snuggled closer, and let her eyes wander over Quinn's bed. Magazines were strewn about between books, a journal, and piles of clothes. "What exactly are you doing?"

"Absolutely nothing."

"Your 'absolutely nothing' looks a lot different than mine."

"I'm supposed to be picking paint colors for my dorm."

"Hold up, we haven't even graduated yet, Q," she scorned. "Why are you planning for college? It's three months away. Can't we just enjoy the rest of high school, please?"

"Two. It's two months away and because my mom is making me. She thinks it's therapeutic to keep looking forward. They're trying to make me excited about going."

"Still not thrilled about it?"

"Not thrilled about anything, really," she muttered.

"Mhm, that's a lie," Brittany giggled and wriggled her eyebrows. "How did shopping go last weekend with… with Rachel?" Brittany added with hesitation, hoping the old trigger button was finally done. There were so many moments over the past six months where she'd said the girl's name and her friend broke down on the spot. She was never sure what was okay when mentioning "the girl" to Quinn, but the enthusiastic phone call Brittany received the second after Rachel stepped foot out of the VW told her this topic might just be getting a little less touchy feely.

And boy was she happy about that.

She hugged Quinn more in the past, how many days was six months? Six times thirty, sometimes thirty one, carry the zero… No, leave the zero. Carry the one instead and then, wait the zero. Wait, where was she?

Anyway, she hugged Quinn more in the past lot of days than their entire lives. She found her in bathrooms. She found her under the bleachers. She caught her crying in the middle of the night during sleepovers. She even walked in on her in her bathroom once and was more shocked by the fact that she was crying while sitting on the toilet than the fact that she was… sitting on the toilet.

Each time broke her heart a little bit more. It was like watching baby penguins lose their mothers when they migrained across the Antarctica.

Migrained?

Hmm… penguins. They're so cute.

"It was really, really good some moments and really hard others," Quinn finally answered and Brittany nodded in understanding, not really sure what they were talking about originally.

"That's how I feel watching Saved by the Bell," Brittany stated. Quinn stumbled over her thoughts.

"Saved by the Bell?"

"Yeah. Like, it's really good when they do the obstacle course for ROTC week and it's really, really bad when Zach and Kelly break up at prom. It's heart-breaking," she whimpered. Quinn only shook her head.

"Right. Rachel and I are exactly like that."

"She is so Kelly in that relationship," Brittany chuckled.

"That makes me Zach Morris!" Quinn huffed.

"Yeah?"

"I am not Zach Morris."

"You're blonde, snarky, the head haunch, and you could manipulate a piece of dirt if you wanted to! Not to mention your perfect hair. You are so Zach Morris."

Quinn had no words, none.

None, whatsoever.

She rolled her eyes playfully and tightened her grip around the side of the girl's head. She loved the pure comfort her almost-twin gave her. She could stay like that forever. In fact, they spent many nights over the past six months doing just that.

They had lain in Quinn's backyard, in Brittany's driveway, on Coach Sylvester's 50 yard line. Stretched out and scared of the world for two very different reasons, they talked endlessly. They counted stars, they renamed constellations because Quinn couldn't remember them and Brittany didn't understand them. It was as if they took themselves out of the world.

Quinn certainly needed it. And Brittany fluttered wherever she did.

She didn't mind if Quinn took her to the clouds with her, as long as she was with Quinn. In fact, if Quinn was being honest, Brittany was probably the only reason she avoided the mental breakdown post-Rachel. There were so many moments when she almost sank into one, but there was Brittany, ready to shine her innocence and joyful love over Quinn.

Brittany saved her from herself, time and time again. Their friendship was her happy place. And today, on their Saturday afternoon, Quinn couldn't think of anything better.

Well, until the door creaked open and Rachel Berry's head appeared.

That was better.

"Rach!" Brittany squealed. She rolled off the bed, wrapped the brunette in a twirling hug, Rachel squealing as she did so, and then plopped her down.

"Brittany," she mumbled, shyness taking her over with each tuck of a stray hair. "Wow, it's good to hear you, see you, all that stuff."

"You see me in glee all the time!"

"Britt," Quinn warned. She knew glee wasn't the same. Rachel sat in the back, hardly spoke, and tried not to matter. It wasn't the same, not at all.

"No, she's right. You're right. I'm just happy to see you here is all. It's nice," Rachel smiled and walked a bit further into the room she hadn't seen in six months. Every bit of it reminded her of them. She could feel the air escaping her lungs already.

Enter suffocation.

Her eyes caught Quinn's for a tight, heavy second and then found the messy bed.

"Wow! Explosion. What in the world are you doing?"

"She's doing absolutely nothing. Is that what your absolutely nothing looks like?" Brittany questioned. Rachel brought her eyes up to Quinn and watched her shrug with a small smile.

"No, Britt. Mine doesn't look like this. What's going on?"

"Dorm planning."

"So you're going?"Rachel spouted, too quickly and too desperately.

"Who knows?" Quinn muttered and Brittany laughed.

"You should know. It's your college, your decision. Why would someone else know?" she chirped. Rachel smirked; couldn't really argue with Britt on that one.

Quinn failed to respond and the silence brought tension over the room. Rachel sat a stray thigh on the edge of the bed and let her eyes fall safely on a few magazine fronts. Otherwise, she'd look around and see picture frames of them, so many godforsaken picture frames. She'd see given presents, notes, Polaroids, and her old clothes.

Magazines were safe, very safe.

Quinn drank her in, eyeing her up and down unabashedly. She was trying so hard not to remember them when everything in the room screamed them. Quinn wanted to grab the racy Polaroid of them kissing off her bulletin board and shove it Rachel's face. Say, "Look what we are! This is what we are! Remember us!"

Brittany perched from her stance about five feet away, watching Rachel trying not to look at Quinn and Quinn unable to avoid looking at Rachel. When were these two going to realize they were each other's lobsters?

God, this was even more exhausting than Coach Syl. Forget it.

"I'm gonna go," she called out.

Both heads whipped her direction. That got their attention!

"Britt, no. You don't have to leave. It's Saturday," Quinn reminded.

"Yeah, but…" she smirked, gesturing slightly to Rachel. The brunette caught the meaning and averted her eyes. She should leave, she knew. She was imposing on their day that used to be her day. She should definitely leave.

So why wasn't she leaving?

Her eyes found the magazines again.

Quinn watched the entire thought process happen across her guilty, but unapologetic face. The blonde wanted to hug that unapologetic face for being unapologetic. That was Quinn's girl. She knew what she wanted and she didn't budge.

Quinn darted her gaze to Britt's and apologized with a look. Brittany rolled her eyes playfully, blew her friend a kiss and winked at Rachel.

"You two have fun. Please," she added as she bounced out.

"Thanks, Briiiitt," Quinn called as the door shut her words off.

And again, here they were.

The silence of the empty room settled over them again. Rachel met Quinn's eyes, smiled slightly and then picked up a magazine. It would've been comfortable if not for the extreme awkward elephant in the corner of the room… crying… while touching itself… and singing "Killing Me Softly".

That was an awkward elephant!

They needed normality to be okay.

And they would be okay, Quinn reminded herself. They could do this.

"Hey Rach?"

"Yeah?" she asked and raised her head to Quinn's.

"Wanna take a walk?" Quinn asked, cocking one shoulder up shyly. She had no other ideas or suggestions and they both knew this. Rachel beamed and tossed the magazine down.

"I would love a walk."

When they made it to the park, their park, they fell into their much needed routine: a light stride to the right down the path through the trees to the pond. It's where they always went. Well, it's where they always used to go.

"I haven't been here since last fall when we had that flag football game with the rents," Rachel admitted. "I still hate that game. It ruined my bedazzled flag."

Quinn nodded, holding back the smirk deep inside.

"I, um, came on Thanksgiving."

"Ah."

"Yeah," Quinn muttered.

Geez, could they dance around their issues any more deliberately? It vice gripped her heart and they strolled through the trees, haphazardly kicking up stray leaves and rocks as they went. Rachel's arms crossed over her chest and Quinn's draped at either side. They twitched towards her pockets, craving the comfortable hideout. A bird darted past and landed in the pine tree above.

Rachel's eyes wandered up to it and then fluttered back to the path.

They walked towards the familiar picnic bench and set of wooden swings. They'd spent so many days on those swings. Quinn remembered the summer before junior year when their dating shifted gears into high, way high. They groped each other like the teenagers they were when on that swing. Something about the semi-public spot, the scenery, and the movement of the swing turned them on beyond belief.

Quinn chuckled remembering an elderly woman who walked by one day and caught them. Her eyebrows went RuPaul high and she swiped her little poodle up from the path and stormed off to the parking lot. Quinn freaked out, initially, and began squirming away, but Rachel followed it with, "If you take your hand off my breast you will never put it back," and Quinn forgot all about the woman.

She forgot about a lot of things when it came to Rachel's proximity and her breasts, if she's being honest.

"Do you think we need to talk about stuff?" Rachel asked, interrupting Quinn's beautiful, beautiful thoughts, and meandered her way off the path to sit at the picnic table. Quinn stuffed her hands in her pockets and shrugged. She never knew what to say.

"Like what stuff?"

"I mean, I feel like there has to be a book long list of stuff we need to talk about," Rachel groaned with an exaggerated wave of her arm.

Quinn sat down across the table from her and the fact that she sat down across from Racheland not beside Rachel shined a bright, abrasive light on what they were now as opposed to what they used to be.

Neither girl liked it. Did anyone ever like huge, abrasive lights?

"I don't want to make things worse," Quinn confessed. She reached down and picked at a stray piece of wood in the table top. The trees swayed around their little clearing and Quinn gulped down the refreshing air.

"Can we make a pact?" Rachel blurted and then clasped her hands in her lap. They lasted only a few seconds before they were plastering themselves back on the table top.

"Depends," Quinn replied.

"On?"

"…the terms of the pact?"

"Oh, right. How about we pact not to get upset at anything the other says," Rachel spelled out.

"I think that's really easy to say and really hard to execute."

"You're probably right. I just… Quinn, I miss talking. I miss thinking I can tell you anything. I miss rambling and not being afraid. I feel like I'm constantly running thoughts over my tongue before releasing them because I'm scared of how they'll fall on your ears. I don't want to feel like that anymore. How can I fix that? Tell me how to fix that."

Quinn gulped down her pain, swiped at a threatening tear and stretched her shy hand across the table to Rachel's. The girl immediately jerked back and Quinn grabbed those eyes with hers. Not this time, Rach. Not this time.

Rachel felt the anchor instantly.

Her hands slid forward and Quinn took hold.

"I know there's a lot to talk about. Anything you want to say, just say it when you feel it, okay? I don't want you to think you're going to hurt my feelings. We've broken each other to the bone and we both know this. Let's not pretend we haven't been to the bottom of the well and back, okay? So if you want to say stuff, say it. But I'll tell you now, I haven't been happier in the past six months than when I was shopping for sheets with you. It was us and it was fun."

Rachel nodded and Quinn continued with a light squeeze to her hands.

"That's what I want. Let's just be. And we'll talk about things as we go, if that's okay with you?"

"That's okay with me," Rachel smiled. Quinn grinned, gave one last clench to the hands she adored, and then reluctantly released them. The second Rachel's heat vanished Quinn yearned for its return. She gulped it down and away.

"How about you tell me about your speech?" she redirected.

"I'm struggling, actually. I snagged that titled before, well before all this went down, and now I-"

"You feel like a different person."

"Yes!"

"Me too."

"What about your speech?" Rachel countered.

"Written," Quinn stated and bounced her eyebrows once to rub it in.

"How did I know you'd already have yours written?"

"Maybe it's a sign," Quinn chirped and tossed a few stray leaves off the table.

"A sign of what?"

"That I should have been Valedictorian and you should have been Salutatorian," Quinn mocked. Rachel guffawed and smacked the table.

"You have lost your mind! My extra-curricular activities alone blow yours out of the water!"

"It's based on GPA, Short Stack," Quinn taunted with purpose. She needed to push the familiarity no matter how hard it might be in the beginning. It's what would push them back to normal and the only thing that would give them a fighting chance for more.

Thankfully, it worked. For the first time in six months, the nickname felt like warmth over Rachel and not an anvil.

"Well, Book Worm," the brunette started with a smile, "if it's based on GPA then you are definitely only Salutatorian material."

"I could've had Valey. And I thought we had graduated Book Worm to Bee for overall cool point-ologies?"

"In your dreams, you nerd- to both counts," Rachel scoffed. "Valedictorian was mine the second I stepped foot in that high school."

Quinn knew she was also Rachel's the second the girl stepped foot into that high school. But that, that was the kind of thing they were not saying out loud. Maybe later? Deathbed material?

"Tell me about your speech," Rachel pushed.

"So you can steal my ideas?"

"Um, you're going first; it would be stupid of me to steal your ideas. It would be blatantly obvious that I stole them. This lack of mental awareness is what landed you at Salutatorian in the first place."

Quinn's jaw hit the deck and her grin broke out.

No, what really landed her in second place was her undying love for one Rachel Berry and needing nothing but that beaming smile to breathe. If Rachel was smiling, Quinn was living. Ergo, Quinn let Rachel have Valedictorian.

Rachel shook her head.

"I see what you're doing in your head right now," she spouted. "I see it. I see you justifying this like you gave it to me. Don't even!"

Quinn erupted in laughter, leaning back, setting it free, and grasping her shaking abs. God, she missed this girl.

"See? I knew it," Rachel groaned. "Let's walk. Can we walk? You're too annoying to look at," she smirked and tossed a leaf at Quinn. The blonde stood, rolled her eyes once, and followed Rachel down their regular path.

"Look, I don't want to ruin my speech for you," Quinn answered. "It's an empowering moment and will be big, for both of us, you as a listener and me as a speecher. I don't want to take away from your experience at graduation. Just like I don't want to know what you're going to say before you say it."

"Speecher is not a word, Salutatorian," she quipped with a jab to Quinn's side. The innocent, playful action forced a steam roller over Quinn's heart.

But she gulped that down, too. When would her stomach get full?

She sighed, caught back up to Rachel walking on, and noticed a slight frown spread over that adorable face.

"What is it?"

"It's nothing."

"Speak, woman," Quinn demanded.

"It's just, I was afraid I was going to spend graduation giving a speech to a crowd full of people with not one person among them who cared about me."

Quinn stopped. When Rachel didn't, she reached out, gripped her wrist and pulled her to a stop as well. Electricity stormed through the touch.

"Wait, e-e-explain that." She could ignore the heat, she could.

"I mean, you know. I haven't spoken to anyone but Puck over the past six months. And he's Puck," Rachel added and Quinn cringed against her will. She still cringed. "I was worried I'd be like the ghost of McKinnely giving a speech up there. People would turn and whisper, 'That's the girl who used to sing.' None of them actually know me or care. And you just recently came around. That's why I thought-"

"Wait, I came around? Rach, I have not once stopped caring about you."

"Sorry. I didn't mean, I, this is prime example of what I was talking about earlier," she frowned and shyly wriggled free of Quinn's grasp. She needed that hand off her wrist and now. She needed the tingling to stop. "Sorry. I didn't mean it."

"No, I'm sorry," Quinn sighed. "I said to say what you feel. And you did. So!" she gasped in a breath and ran a hand through her hair before craning her head around to find Rachel's eyes. "I will simply say this to that: you'll never give a speech to an auditorium full of people and not have at least one of them care."

"How you figure?"

"Because I will always be there, front and center." Rachel's eyes shot to her anchors, her beautiful bright hazel anchors. "And I imagine you'll be giving a lot of them over your lifetime. I will be there."

How did Rachel think she would be able to move on from this girl and stop loving her? She was deeply naïve.

And before she knew it, she was stepping forward and taking Quinn in her arms. She needed it. She needed it for more reasons that she would ever admit to herself.

"Thank you," Rachel whispered and blinked away the moisture. Both girls twitched awkwardly before Quinn let Rachel fully drape her arms around her. The awkwardness fell away with their inhibitions and Rachel pulled tight, rested her chin on Quinn's shoulder and clung for dear life. "Thank you," she muttered again. "For so many things."

Quinn couldn't believe it; Rachel was wrapped around her and thanking her. Six months ago she was wishing her dead. Now she was thanking her.

All those gulps forced themselves up and she wanted to jerk Rachel in the air, twirl her around, and shout with joy before laying her down, kissing her silly, and reminding her of how they used to love each other.

But no, she should stay calm. She should. Baby steps were the key. She could do this. They could do this.

They could hug. She knew how to hug.

She let her arms wrap around Rachel's waist. Her shoulders rolled in closer. Her head lolled down into Rachel's hair. And last, all her muscles clenched tighter until they were gripping each other for all the reasons built into their DNA.

Rachel breathed her in. If this was what friendship between she and Quinn would be, she had no arguments. She turned her head, buried her face in the familiar neck and gripped firm. She felt Quinn all around her and she never wanted to let her go again. She couldn't handle another six months without these arms as her safety net, without those eyes as her anchors, and without that wit as her levity.

She craved every bit of her. And she knew Quinn craved her, too. She saw it in her eyes. She saw it in the buried reflexes. She saw it in the way those hands twitched into Quinn's pockets just to keep from touching her. Rachel definitely saw it.

And she knew friendship would only last so long. They would either implode for good or find their way home. But this friendship, right here gripped like a heavy sack of potatoes in Quinn's arm, it would suffice for now.

"I'm sorry," Quinn mumbled into her. "I'm so sorry."

"Me too, Bee. Me too."