A little more Faberry angst to get the plot going. So you'll find out more about the Berry's in this one as well as why they've been acting so strange. Also, there's a slight plot twist at the end. Hope you enjoy!
"Rachel? You got a letter." Leroy's voice fell up the stairs and right in Rachel's room, awakening her from a deep slumber. To her utmost panic the clock read that it was already 2pm. Not only had she completely missed her morning rehearsal with Quinn, but all reality seemed to hit you that much harder when you woke up later – or so Rachel thought. Every heavy thought that she'd gone to bed with was just that much heavier in the morning, as if sleep had only given it time to fester and grow unlike the promised saying 'just sleep on it'. She vowed to never sleep on it again, this time she only had more questions. Lethargically she yanked herself from her sheets and made the fateful journey down to the landing where she lazily took away the flapping white envelope that Hiram presented with almost mournful eyes. Perching on the stairs she waited for her dad to leave, which in hindsight was probably one of those reasons for their suspicion, and tore the envelope open in every way possible. Down the stairs floated a meek and scribbled on yellow post-it note. When Rachel got a closer look she realised there were only two words on it, two words scribbled in an unfamiliar scroll that read "Rehearsal's off."
The full stop tore into Rachel a little. She knew she should just shove the note into the bin along with the envelope but something made her slip it into her pyjama trouser pocket. She wondered when Quinn had delivered it, since timing was everything. Was it right in the morning to save Rachel the effort of getting up after yesterday's blow? This option was a little intimidating since that also meant Rachel had to presume that Quinn actually felt bad about yesterday – and even though every way that she had acted pointed to that conclusion, Rachel just wasn't ready to make the leap. The other one was that she dropped it over when she realized that logically there was no point to a rehearsal with only one hour or so to go. It was probably the second one, and the pressure applied to the full stop confirmed that to Rachel.
As Rachel trudged down the stairs with a deep sense of confusion she was met with two pairs of worried eyes that had manoeuvred themselves into casual positions by the kitchen. Leroy on the table with a book, and Hiram by the kettle. But there was nothing unsuspicious about them at all, and their expressions made Rachel sick to her stomach. Would it always be like this? Would she constantly have to smile so they didn't ask her about her medicine? And what if she smiled too much? She would be living a tight rope of keeping her parents happy just so she could live an ounce of a normal life. However, their expressions didn't alter too much when she arrived, making Rachel think that there was more to the story than just her. There was another problem.
"So...is the dinner still on?" Rachel asked before taking a chunk out of the apple she'd acquired from the fruit bowl. She already knew the answer, of course it was. The statement was just more of an ice breaker, something she'd never really had to do in her family before. Something that considering how already shattered they'd become, she wished she'd never have to do again either. The two dad's looked at each other apprehensively as to confirm before finally nodding.
"Yes, yes it is" Hiram began, pouring himself a cup of coffee before making his husband one too. As he gave Leroy the other cup he looked down at him as if to prompt him to say something.
"It's still on but there's going to be another guest, Rachel" Leroy confirmed in a practiced tone. Curiously Rachel positioned herself in the seat opposite them two at the breakfast table and put her apple down. Finishing her chew she decided there was no point hiding the confusion that plastered itself onto her face.
"Who?" She asked abruptly. Again the couple nervously looked at each other.
"Randy, you know Randy right?" Hiram continued after a nervous sip of coffee, but Rachel didn't care about their stance anymore – she was too shocked about the other guest. Randy had been an old family friend of theirs, but that didn't mean he was a friend at all. Actually, everyone in the Berry family sort of loathed him. He was one of those characters that they weren't really sure how they came to know, neither did they know how to get rid of him though. He was a little older than both the men, incredibly grumpy, and always had something negative to say about anything. Rachel couldn't bear the thought of Randy seeing her insight of recent events; she knew that he'd just tear her apart. Randy had a way of inviting himself over for not only dinners, but plenty of movie nights – and in a strange way the family grew closer to the old and lonely jerk. Rachel had picked up her own theory a few years ago after a marathon of Keeping Up With the Kardashians, Randy was about as straight as a rainbow. But he also pretended to be incredibly conservative. With his receding hairline, extensive collection of checked shirts and bow ties and honest tongue – it was more of a challenge saying no to him than it was to say yes. All things considered, she still didn't fully understand why he was coming over with what seemed like absolutely no protest from her father's. She waited for an explanation with widened eyes but both of them remained annoyingly sketchy. If their idea of fair was that they were allowed to keep secrets and Rachel wasn't, then Rachel could definitely get something out of this situation too – especially after all she'd sacrificed. She could feel the minute weight of the note in her pocket as an idea, a potentially fatal one, sprung into her mind.
"Fine." She said standing up. "Then I get to bring someone too." She didn't wait for an answer but simply exited the kitchen with as much stature as she could manage.
Inviting Quinn over was a deadly risk. Rachel remembered the last time they had dinner together at Santana's house and dreaded the possibility of that happening again. If Quinn's idea of small talk was chatting about antidepressants then Rachel would definitely not be seeing the light of day anytime soon. There were also plenty of other potentials problems linked with inviting Quinn, one of the more obvious ones being her dress sense. She couldn't imagine her fathers, and now Randy's, reaction to the seductive Grace Kelly that would stand at their door. Nevertheless, the only thing worse than inviting Quinn over for dinner was not having her there. Partially because Rachel didn't want to face her parents and Randy alone, but also because whenever Quinn was around there was a side to Rachel that came out to play. A side that she really hoped to be the real one. Selfishly, it wasn't just Quinn that Rachel had begun to like – it was what Quinn made her too. As soon as she started to think about that wild blonde hair and captivating smile she just knew that the only possible way that she would survive tonight's ordeal was by having her by her side. It was worth the risk to have her. Slowly Rachel retracted her phone from her bag and scrolled down to the numbers, eventually she was met with the simple letter "Q" which brought her back to a memory where the blonde refused to type unnecessary letters into the phone. Q was simple, and to the point. And considering Rachel only had three other numbers on there, it wasn't exactly hard to know what Q stood for. As the phone rang Rachel could feel her heart slowly creep its way up right to her throat.
"Hi" A snappy voice answered. Her snappy voice.
"Quinn it's Rachel."
"I know. I have caller ID." There was a pause. "So do you want something?"
"No." Rachel blurted out without a thought, a hastened breath filling her lungs as she retracted her comment. "I mean yes. What I mean is, what are you doing tonight?"
"Not having raisin bran at your dad's house that's for sure."
"Please come."
"I can't I'm busy."
"Doing what?"
"I'm just busy, Rachel. Just like you were this morning."
"I wanted to apologise for that" Rachel began hesitantly, waiting for Quinn to tell her whether she'd dropped it in the morning or in the afternoon. That was probably yet another mystery about Quinn Fabray that Rachel would just have to deal with, she didn't exactly have another option. "But please come to dinner" She added again, a little more persistently. Once more there was a silence on the other line, but not a complete one – she could still hear the faint sound of Quinn's breath. But as Rachel counted to five once more there was still no answer. "It starts at seven, if you want to come – you know where I live." She put the phone down without waiting for a reply, if Quinn wanted to act this way then Rachel could to. This way it still meant there was a possibility of her showing up. There was still hope. But Rachel's minute happiness was destroyed by the sound of her dad's arguing downstairs. Though the temptation to go downstairs and find out exactly what was happening presented itself, there was another option that seemed to be a lot more inviting. The softness of her duvet called to her, the comfort of her pillow teased her in, and the promise of drifting off until six pm with the last thing in her mind being Quinn's voice seemed like the best option there was. When she got downstairs Quinn would either be there, or she wouldn't. That was it. And living with the truth was just part of life. Dr Brown had tried to make Rachel realize that for a long time, but Quinn had cut to the chase in a two minute phone call. Expectations always exceeded reality. Quinn Fabray being the only exception to that.
The second time that Rachel woke up that day was different. For starters, it was completely dark outside and her clock read six thirty. And secondly, her mood was both different yet indescribable. Rachel had no idea how she was feeling. Every emotion in the human spectrum fought to conquer her expression but simply left Rachel with a blunt haze of confusion and an absent smile. She wasn't sure if it was possible to be sad and happy at the same time, but also knew that she didn't have much choice on the matter either. She nervously checked outside to see whether another car had pulled up to join her father's – hoping it was Quinn's and dreading it was Randy's, but Rachel was met with nothing. Quickly she got dressed in a plain sleeveless navy dress that stopped at her knees. She accompanied it simply with a white cardigan and decided that her slippers would do for shoes. The idea of dressing up just to go downstairs was a mountain that she had no desire to climb. She did however brush her hair into a smooth wave and apply a little makeup, just in case Quinn was coming. The blonde had seen her sweaty and tired a little too regularly that week, so Rachel thought a little blush and mascara wouldn't exactly hurt anyone. By the time the clock read five minutes to seven and Rachel heard voices she knew it was show time – metaphorically speaking.
Of course it was Randy. Rachel regretted ever hoping that Quinn would arrive five minutes early when she was met with the sight of a peculiarly happy looking man in a colour co-ordinated red suit, and of course, matching bow tie. Rachel wasn't sure what was more surprising, the fact that the old geezer who had a permanent smile was beaming, or the fact that her father's weren't even trying to pretend to be happy. Maybe whilst she was gone the relationship between the three of them changed, but that too was unlikely even if Rachel did feel like everything had changed. Once the group noticed Rachel's appearance her dad's stole the show from Randy's reaction. They looked at her like they used to before curtain call on opening night. It was the same gaze they had when they stood up for her standing ovations. It was the exact same expression that had made a permanent residence on their faces every time Rachel told them she got a solo or a leading role. They were proud. And all because of a little effort and on-time arrival.
"Hi Randy" Rachel democratically greeted him, deciding not to resist the strange action of him pulling her into a crushing hug. Luckily it wasn't too crushing since he wasn't an inch taller than herself, but it did make his signature smell of bourbon and honey roast ham just that little bit more pungent in her nose.
"You're looking great, Rachel!" The rather plump Jewish man exclaimed, his rosy cheeks still beaming. It was as if every smile sent Rachel's dad's into another sulk, and she was more than curious as to find out why. The questions would have to wait as they made their way into the decorated dining room. As always Leroy had done a great job with the presentations, and Rachel just hoped that Hiram's cooking was up to scratch for the guests. Those thoughts took second place to the two main ones that festered in Rachel's mind – the curious behaviour of a once grumpy man and the disappearance of an enigmatic blonde. It seemed like maybe Quinn wasn't coming after all, so Rachel decided to focus on the first problem at hand. Once they were all seated and munching over bread and canapés, Rachel took her lead.
"First off I'd like to clarify that I've got a problem and no filter" she bluntly said to Randy, causing Leroy to subtly face-palm next at the head of the table. Even Randy looked a little surprised, though it didn't stop him from enjoying his butter slathered bread. He chewed and shrugged perpetually.
"Well I always thought you were a little too uptight back then" he chuckled, to the judging eyes of Hiram next to him. "But continue, what's up short-stack?"
"Well" Rachel cleared her throat, addressing the entire table this time. She looked over to the empty seat next to her for support but of course Quinn wasn't there. "I deserve an explanation. What's going on? Why are you so happy?" She demanded from Randy before looking from one dad to the other "and why are you so, well, not?" Rachel was proud of her fairly well constructed sentence, but whatever reaction she had hoped for definitely didn't match to the reality of what was to come. Randy began belting out a deep and growling laugh, followed by both her dad's beginning to look shamefully regretful.
"They didn't tell you?!" Randy exclaimed, reclining on the wooden seat with force, still chuckling away to himself. Clearly the question was rhetorical as the rumble of a deep breath he took next hinted to Rachel she was about to find out. "Your fathers bet against me on the dancing with the stars finale. And yesterday, they lost!" another belting roar of laughter suffocated the small man but Rachel was too angry to care about his joy from winning. The show had always been a family thing to watch; in fact it was almost compulsory for Rachel to watch it with her dad's. They called her their good luck charm. Maybe it was superstition, but (Leroy especially) believed that with Rachel watching with them their favourite couple had to win. Of course perhaps they had reason for their confidence, it was miraculously true. Every time that Rachel had watched a finale with them the couple they wanted had won. She didn't realise that the finale was yesterday, nor did she register that it could have been the reason for her parent's behaviour. The fact was that Leroy had always been like this, he just called it his special habit. Whether it was collecting envelopes, making Rachel watch certain shows, or having the remote controls a certain way – Leroy believed in luck. When Rachel was ten the doctor declared it to be OCD, but he kept it under control mostly. She couldn't help but feel guilty at the possibility of her problem making it all worse. But now her dad's had gone and lost a bet for god knows how much money, and Randy was probably rolling in it. She wanted to scream at them and question them for being so stupid, but with her track record Rachel didn't really think that she was in the position to talk about practical decisions. It all made sense now.
"Please tell me you didn't?" Rachel asked still in shock, looking at both her dad's. It was clear by their expressions, as well as a very rich Randy's, that they had. Before Rachel could dare to ask how much there was a knock at the door. Quinn's timing was a disaster. Still fuming, Rachel slid from the table and marched to the front door where she opened it to find the familiar blonde. With her signature black trench she had an expression that matched Rachel's. From behind her Rachel could hear Randy and her dad's arguing yet again – the night was an inevitable disaster. It had supposedly began to prove that Rachel was okay but all it really had done was just highlight how crazy her family was. Rachel pressed herself to the open door and squeezed her eyes shut, taking in a shallow breath as she plucked up the stance to address Quinn.
"What do you want?" Rachel sharply asked as the complaints behind her grew louder.
"I'm here for dinner. What the hell's happening?" she demanded trying to see past Rachel at the chaos behind her.
"Well you can't, not anymore, Quinn could you please just leave?" this time Rachel had to raise her voice for it to over shadow the ones that grew behind her. Looking at Quinn she saw that same spark and knew there wasn't a chance in hell for the girl to say okay and turn back into the night.
"No. I'm coming in because unlike you when I make a serious commitment to someone I stick to it" the blonde barked back, matching Rachel's volume and tone. Something in the dining room calmed down as the conversation between the girls intensified.
"I told you I was sorry, okay?"
"Well sorry doesn't cut it, and I let you slack off this morning because of that stupid letter but now what? I'm not even allowed inside?" Quinn didn't wait for a reply as she barged through and Rachel flung her hands out in desperation, bluntly letting the door snap shut behind them. "You need to do some serious thinking about commitments Rachel, because you committed to me to get something in return so don't you dare think that you're getting out of tomorrow, got it?"
"Fine." Rachel snapped back as she fled to the dining room in attempt to refrain throwing a tantrum.
"Who the hell is this?" Randy asked, his beady eyes focusing on Quinn's with an expression of complete wonder. Leroy and Hiram looked just as taken back but the blonde didn't answer Randy, she just turned her attention right back to Rachel.
"Oh that's great, you didn't even tell them I was coming, did you?" she asked mockingly, her eyebrows prancing up to make her point.
"I said I was bringing a guest, they don't even know you!" Rachel came back at the same force before her parents decided to join in.
"That's right we don't even know her" Leroy mumbled after a sip of wine. Quinn swung around and looked at them all.
"I'm Quinn by the way" she mentioned briefly, instantaneously returning her attention back to her brunette after Randy gave a brief nod of acknowledgment combined with Leroy's one of acceptance, his expression indicating he was much too absorbed with the guilt of blowing the money than to fight. Hiram had another idea.
"What's all this craziness with Quinn Fabray?" Hiram questioned Rachel, standing up from his seat to look her in the eye. Of course Hiram had heard about Quinn, everyone in Lima had heard about Quinn. She wasn't only known for being Sammy's widow, but for also being downright crazy. Frustrated Rachel darted her attention from Quinn to her dad before reaching a breaking point.
"It's not craziness – we've just been dancing, that's our thing, we've been dancing okay?" Randy looked amused which was a sharp contrast to the angry Quinn which mirrored a fuming Hiram, all complemented by a very confused Leroy.
"Dancing? This is nuts, Rachel, you don't dance. It just all started falling apart when you started spending time with her" Hiram continued with all force, worry seeping into his every attempt to reason with his daughter. But Quinn Fabray had something else in mind.
"You think I fucked up all the dancing with the star's ju-ju don't you?" The blonde demanded, causing Leroy to sink lower in his seat from embarrassment. Randy's eyes widened with entertainment as if he was in a circus as they all wondered how Quinn knew about it. Especially Rachel. "Randy told my mom" Quinn briefly mentioned to Rachel who nodded. The blonde snapped her attention back at the standing man.
"It's just ever since, ever since she was with you –" Hiram shrugged as if it all made sense. Of course none of it didn't, the Berry family had fallen apart. Looking over to Leroy, the orchestrator of the bet who was attempting to concentrate on the canapés in front of him instead of at the fight surrounding him, Hiram shook his head disappointedly.
"You think that I'm the reason why this has all happened?" the blonde exclaimed to Hiram.
"That's right."
"I'm the reason?" Quinn repeated, leaving Rachel's side to come further towards the centre of the room. "Let's talk about that." The girl began, eccentric hand gestures soon coming into play once again. Rachel held her breath as she watched; even Leroy picked his head up from his gloom of shame. "Jess and Michael, that's your couple right?" the blonde questioned already knowing the answer, everyone in the room nodded. "The first night that Rachel and I met at my brothers, Jess and Michael perform the Argentina tango and get straight nines – sweeping the competition." As Quinn spoke with confidence there was no denying that everyone was clinging to her every word. She was right. Leroy nodded as he recalled the score himself and realised that Quinn was absolutely right. In fact, her recollection was perfect.
"The second time we met up we went for a run, Jess and Michael came second with the foxtrot but Louise and James forfeited for malpractice and they took the win." Hiram's eyes widened with astonishment as Randy whispered a few 'she's right' to himself as he enjoyed the salmon patties on offer.
"The third time we got together we had raisin bran at the diner, and the couple dominated the competition and once again got the highest scores." Quinn continued furiously.
"Wait let me think about that..."Leroy joined, counting on his fingers and confirming everything that the vivacious blonde had just said. Rachel watched in astonishment as Hiram pressed his lips together and solemnly nodded.
"Well then think about this, where do you think Rachel was when the extra footage of Jess and Michael perfecting the flying eagle reached the web and the judges gave a standing ovation just for the video?"
"She was with you?" Randy picked up, astonishment still stitched onto his face.
"Yes. And you know what, there haven't been anymore performances since Rachel and I've been together this week, but she left early yesterday during the airing of the finale – so maybe, just maybe if she was with me then your precious couple would have won."
"She makes sense, Hiram. She makes sense" Randy pointed out with a slow applause, but Quinn wasn't about to take a bow anytime soon.
"And it's not like I give a fuck about that stupid show, or your crazy superstition, but it if its me reading the signs then I really don't think you can blame this on Rachel and I spending time together. Okay?"
"Quinn...how did you know all that stuff?" Rachel asked meekly before Quinn picked up a glass of untouched wine from the table.
"I did my research." She declared with a gallant sip.
"I've got to say I'm impressed" Hiram said as Leroy set down and nodded in agreement. "I didn't like her before, but now I do."
A silence filled the room as the heat of the argument subsided. To everyone's surprise, Randy gave a familiar sigh that Rachel hadn't heard for much too long.
"Leroy, I feel terrible" the man began with a shrug "We made a bet, I won a lot of money – and now look, your whole family is in ruins." As Rachel listened to the man's words and looked around it was true. Her fathers had definitely lost the plot. Quinn and her were probably the most normal people in the room. Rachel was almost touched by Randy's comment, but the blonde next to her as per usual disagreed.
"Oh fuck off Randy, you love it, you live off this shit – you've been betting off my father for years."
"That's not true!" the plump man defended pretentiously.
"You're just twisting the knife, prove it then?" Quinn continued, pushing him further.
"That's not true" Randy retorted again, unwilling to do what the blonde was asking.
"Prove it!"
"How do you want me to prove it?" He asked in that familiar grumpy drawl, looking from Quinn to Rachel to the men flanking both sides of him. Quinn straightened up and stared straight at the man.
"By giving them the chance to win back everything. Double or nothing."
"No no no no no" Rachel blurted, her hands waving in disagreement to Quinn's propositions.
"Double or nothing on the next season of the Dancing with the stars, is that what you're saying?" Randy asked, motioning with his hands. Quinn took another sip of the dark red liquid and shook her head, placing it down and taking time to say the words on the tip of her tongue.
"No. The Benjamin Franklin Hotel free style pair dance competition."
"I do like the sound of that." Randy smirked. "Continue?" Rachel tried to stop it but her protests were useless and her father's were too busy concentrating on potentially regaining their life insurance to listen.
"Don't do it." Rachel begged her father's. "This is toxic, all this betting and superstition"
"Rachel, how do they score it? This dance thing?" Randy interrupted the brunette just fuelling her anger.
"I don't know how they score it! We're just participating, we're not a part of it – do not base the bet on this Randy, we're not professionals, we're-" Quinn stole Rachel's words as she informed the crowd of what they wanted to hear.
"They go by the Ohio state dance rules. Each dance pair are scored on a scale of one to ten, ten being the best. You have to average the four judges score's, it's just like your stupid show."
"Okay. A score of one to ten." Randy reasoned, furrowing his brows as he thought it all over. "And you guys are how good?"
"We suck" Rachel interjected honestly.
"We don't suck" Quinn defended, glaring at Rachel before looking back at Randy. "Rachel's a beginner, I'm okay – we're lucky just to be going there."
"And what about the people you're competing with?" Randy continued, growing more and more interested.
"They're good" The blonde explained plainly.
"Better than you?" Randy persisted again and Quinn didn't answer, but Rachel nodded silently causing the blonde to eye roll. "So if I were to say you only had to score five, that would be me being very very generous, right?" the balding man suggested.
"No! That would be amazing if we got five –" Rachel bargained in protest of the suggestion, only to be met with Quinn's roars of how they could definitely get that number and she should have a little more faith. Leroy ran a stressed hand through his hair whilst Hiram cleaned his steamed up glasses. Suddenly Leroy presented his hand to Randy to the disgust of Rachel and shook it.
"I'm shaking it on it" He said after the action, mostly to his husband who agreed with a solemn nod but also to confirm to everyone else. If Rachel and Quinn got a five or above, all their money would be returned. Slowly he looked over at Rachel with a sympathetic expression and a sigh "I got us into this mess, Rachel, I'm getting us out. I believe in you." Leroy held his gaze before adjusting it to the striking blonde next to his daughter "both of you".
"No" Rachel exclaimed, moving towards the door but still looking at all the messed up people in the room. "I'm not going to be a part of this. You're a sickness, Randy" she pointed at him with a finger before swinging her attention round to her father's where she just said nothing.
"Rachel? You can't quit?" Quinn reminded.
"I'm not doing the dance. I'm out." The brunette finished as she exited the room, but this time Quinn wasn't about to get left behind. Immediately she followed Rachel to the front door that the girl dared to open.
"Just calm down, Rachel" she reasoned, but Rachel glared at her and started to move away. "Rachel you are not being the girl you want to be! If it's me reading the signs-"
"You reading the signs?" She exclaimed, only to have Quinn repeat the same sentence louder. Rachel snapped the door closed behind her as she stepped out onto the night porch and was met with the hard and cold fresh air of Lima. It was exactly what she needed. All of it was too much back there, especially finding out about her dad's. They were meant to be normal, they were meant to be the sane and normal ones that didn't make impulsive bets. They were the ones that were meant to keep her safe and grounded and not put her into situations where she had so much pressure put on her. She didn't want to think of them as humans capable of mistakes. Rachel needed them to be invincible because she was broken.
Quinn returned to the dining room to find that Randy had left through the back door the bread basket with him. She wavered by the door frame as she listened to Hiram and Leroy talking. She heard Hiram telling Leroy that they pushed her too far and how if they'd only known all she was doing was dancing things were different. Leroy was nervous of her quitting not only because of the bet, but because of the progress that she'd made. Quinn knew there was a solution to it all. She saw the opportunity and she knew she had to take it. To both of their surprise she entered the room and their whispering ceased. Curiously they looked at the girl who now stood before them completely calm.
"There's only one way to get her to do the dance" Quinn declared quietly, immediately catching their attention.
"And what's that?" Hiram asked with anticipation.
"We have to tell her that Finn's going to be there"
"But he won't come?" Leroy admitted reluctantly.
"We have to tell her that he will" Hiram solemnly said catching on to Quinn's plan, only to have Leroy complain that would be a lie. "it's a white lie!" his husband reasoned and Quinn repeated the same sentence. Hiram continued with a deep breath "we have to leave a trail of bread crumbs so she can live her life without ruining it.."
"We're going to have to do it" Quinn confirmed to both Rachel's parents. "It's a lie. But it's for the best."
The plan was set. They'd tell Rachel that was Finn was going to be there even if he wasn't and then she had to come. The Berry's would win the money back. Quinn would get to do her dance. Everything would work out.
Outside on the porch Rachel felt more alone than ever as the rain trickled in the darkness in front of her. It was colder than the weather channel had promised, but then again, everything felt like a lie. Slowly she retracted the only thing that didn't from her cardigan pocket. She didn't even remember placing it in there; it was probably a subconscious action that stemmed from her desire to keep something of Finn's close to her. As the rain drizzled onto the black tarmac, Rachel unfolded the letter with gently trembling hands, her lips pressing tightly together to stop her from crying as she reread the words that Finn had written to her.
Until she got to one sentence in particular.
She was so thrown off by it that she read the sentence again and again to make sure she wasn't just seeing it. But there, in clear black typed writing, were the very words that she swore she'd heard before from someone else's lips.
"If it's me reading the signs..." Rachel quietly read out to herself before realizing the thing that now seemed so obvious. Lost for words and with no found desire to even think, she shoved the letter back into her cardigan pocket and darted out onto the streets in her slippers and began to run through the rain.
He didn't write the letter.
