Thank you so much to everyone who has continued to read and review this story (especially those of you who are reviewing anonymously/as guests, who I can't message directly). There are about four chapters left, counting this one, and they're mostly written, so no more month-long waits, I promise!


Shoshandra has wanted to be a professional dancer since she was little, and her answer to everything is dance. So the girls spend the day locked in the basement, pushing the couch and the game table against the walls and stretching out in the middle. Mindful of Rachel in the middle of the group, they stay away from current routines and songs, instead improvising things Claire remembers from Sectionals freshman year or things Shoshandra learned in private lessons in Akron.

The group is missing Katy, as well as Giselle - who is conspicuously absent after all the fireworks instead of going in for the kill. Andrea went looking for them earlier, and behind the closed door of one of the upstairs bedrooms, she hears Giselle's raised voice, followed by Katy's soothing tone. She lingers in the hall for a moment before turning away, deciding to leave well enough alone. There's a pang of hurt for her friend, mixed with guilt, but - she's supposed to be the team leader. She's supposed to keep the fireworks under control. And they are, for now. At least Giselle isn't alone, and Katy is too smart to take sides or make the situation worse.

She can hear the sound of Ben swearing and Jesse yelling at him drifting up from the back of the house. They all just need to get this out of their systems before anyone confronts anyone.

From where she's standing next to the speakers in the basement, music vibrating through her as Shoshandra tries to yell over it, Rachel can't hear them. It feels good to move, to work the tension out, after all the thinking and all the talking. Music, dancing has always been the best catharsis she can think of.

The mix CD they're playing is driving, varied, but keeps coming back to a lot of classic rock. When it cycles back around to Journey again, it makes her think of Kurt, of Mr. Schue, of their first month with New Directions and things being a lot simpler than this. Last fall, she was just the girl who wanted to be great at something, to be part of something special so she'd stop getting slushied every day - or at the very least, to be part of something special enough that all the trouble is worth it.

She feels included here, she thinks, laughing as Claire literally tries to bend over backwards to touch the ground in a gymnastic move and can't quite. She's never felt like she belongs at McKinley. There's never been anywhere she can just relax and be herself. Even within the confines of the choir room, the group is fractured - the football players, the three Cheerios, Artie and Tina coupled up, even Kurt and Mercedes whispering together in the corner. She'd always been the odd one out - at least until Jesse had shown up, slinging an arm over her shoulders and talking about accessible music and the relatability of Sondheim until Mr. Schue showed up to start rehearsal. Before that, it had been her trying to act as though she were unperturbed by being excluded, listening to all the conversations taking place in hushed tones and wondering which ones were about her.

It doesn't feel good to be the one who's not in on the secret. And It's safe to say that the secret Jesse was keeping from her was one of the bigger ones he could have.

But he did it without malicious intent. He's not some football player who threw a slushy on her for the hell of it, or Santana, who cruelly belittles other people to make herself feel better. And he didn't do it for his own personal gain - like Finn manipulating her feelings to bring her back to the club, or the group keeping the secret of Quinn's baby's paternity from her so the drama wouldn't lose them Sectionals.

She has a feeling this isn't the last or only time either of them will mess up. But it can be the last secret either of them keeps.

He wasn't trying to hurt her, and that makes him worth the trouble.


As luck would have it, it starts raining hard that afternoon. There's no scattering down the beach, no groups outside on the deck. They're all in the house, which suddenly feels too small for all of them, close and tight.

When Jesse straightens up from grabbing a drink out of the fridge, Andrea is there, leaning against the doorjamb. Her hair is tied back from her flushed face, like she's been through a long, punishing rehearsal. She crosses to grab her own bottle of water out of the fridge, kicks the door shut, and stares at him evenly.

"So," she starts.

"So."

It's all right there, but she lets him have it anyway.

"You really fucked this one up, St. James."

"So I've heard."

Andrea shakes her head. "If this was just some recon mission and you'd fallen for her - she'd have gotten that, because she's just as crazy and competitive as you are. But for you to know something like that about her and hide it?"

"Since when do you care?"

"Day one. What was the first rule?"

Their first day of rehearsal, freshman year at Carmel, Shelby had slammed them all into the seats in the auditorium, demanded silence, then laid out the cardinal rules, the ones that carried the threat of expulsion from the team. He's heard the speech four times.

"The show must go on." Whatever drama is going on in your personal life, whatever is happening off the stage - don't let it affect your performance.

"Rule two."

"When you're giving it your all - give more."

"And the big one - rule three."

"Protect your own."

They're competitive, but they're a team. They function as a unit. They have each other's backs.

"Rachel's part of the group now in almost every way that counts. She's just as driven and competitive as any of us. She's just as dedicated, just as passionate. She belongs with us. I know we're dramatic people, but it wouldn't be dramatic to say it's even her birthright. Fate dumped her in another school district, and if loyalty is keeping her there, that's her decision to make. But it doesn't mean we don't get her. I sort of want to kick your ass on her behalf right now - and Giselle's, too - but that's not my place."

He can't help smiling a little. "You know what the sick thing is? Before all of this, before whatever scheming went on ... I was actually thinking you'd like each other if things were different."

"She's something else," Andrea agrees. "She's the best thing that ever happened to you."


Later, when her legs are sore, and she can't find it in her to be angry anymore, having burned off all the hurt pride and confusion, she goes looking for him.

It doesn't take long. When she doesn't find him with the rest of the boys on the back deck, she sticks her head into the bedroom to find Jesse lying flat on his back, listening to the rain in the gathering darkness outside. He starts a little when the door opens.

"Hello."

He smiles cautiously at her greeting, and she feels a little flutter of gratitude - that he's been patient enough to wait for her to want to talk. "Hi."

He sits up, and she clambers onto the bed to sit cross-legged, facing him. They look at each other for a long moment.

"Am I anything like her, Jesse?" she finally asks.

He tips his head and studies her for a long moment, carefully considering. She does her best to stand up under his scrutiny, not blinking away.

"Yes and no," he says finally. "You're talented, you're disciplined. Organized. You're so driven, and you're not afraid to push others around you, to hold them to those standards. There's so much of her in you, enough that it almost didn't surprise me when she told me the truth. But it's ... tempered, in you. You care so much about other people and what they're thinking or feeling - maybe too much, sometimes. You have a big heart. Not that she doesn't," he hastens to add. "She's still my teacher. I'm sure there are things even I don't know."

"Why do you think she did it?"

"Beyond what I told you before?" He shakes his head. "I honestly don't know. You'd have to ask her."

"You'll go with me?"

He nods. "Of course. If you want me to."

She takes a deep breath, knowing exactly what she's really saying. "I want you to."

She still has so many questions - about her mother, about the future, about everything. But she's going to be brave enough to look for the answers. And he'll be there, whether those answers are good or bad. And for now, that's enough.

"Why?" he wants to know.

"I've always had a hard time making friends. You know how I am. People don't like it." He opens his mouth to protest, and she shushes him with a finger against his lips. "I've never had that person I could trust with everything. Who I knew I didn't have to have any secrets with." She looks at him meaningfully and he nods seriously, getting it. "You're the only person who hasn't ever judged me. Who has gotten the best and the worst of me and who hasn't walked away from either."

"I won't walk away," he swears quietly. "Not as long as you'll have me. You'll make mistakes, and so will I, and I can't promise you we'll never fight - and knowing us, it'll be dramatic - but it'll never be enough to make me walk away. And I'll always be honest with you. I don't regret wanting to help Shelby, but I do regret lying to you, and I'm sorry."

She thinks about it for a second, then smiles a little. "I think ... maybe this happened the way it was supposed to. But I'll always be honest with you, too, because I'm not afraid of doing that anymore. I'm not scared that you'll hurt me with what you know, or that you'll walk away with it. I've never been able to trust anyone our age like that before - not Kurt, not Noah, not Claire or anyone here. We'll both make mistakes, but I think ... you're my first real best friend. And I couldn't have found a better person."

She doesn't realize there are tears in her eyes until Jesse - his own eyes suspiciously bright - cups her face in his hands, brushing one off her cheek. When he kisses her, it's like she's something precious. Something special. She knows without thinking about it how to kiss him back the same way.

"You're the only person who's ever really known me," he whispers. "You're the best friend I've ever had. I love you so much."

She kisses him back, wanting to get just a little bit closer - to know just a little bit more of him.

It's just him, she thinks, when she loses her balance, taking him down with her against the bed. She can feel who he is in the way he touches her. His hands, as they skim down her sides, are confident. Arrogant, even. They demand all her attention. But they're also warm, and kind, and loving - with a gentleness he only lets her see. And yeah, it's new and a little scary when he pulls her closer, letting her feel just how much he wants her - but it's still just Jesse.

"Rachel," he grits out, and buries his face in her neck. It's a warning, she knows. He's putting her in the driver's seat, and it's - exhilarating. Powerful. If she says no, it's the end of the discussion. Instead, she turns her head to kiss him again and slips her hand under the back of his shirt, pushing the material up, giving him tacit permission to continue.

They have learned so much about each other this week. She wants to find out even more about him. That freckle on his collarbone, and the shudder that goes through him when she kisses it. The noise he makes when she hooks a leg over his waist to get closer - and how that makes her feel.

There's still so much to learn about the world - about her life. She wants him there with her to figure it all out. They'll start here.


Jesse has always hated cliches. But sometimes he has to admit when they're applicable - after all, some phrases stand the test of time for a reason.

He's had sex with other girls before. But to Rachel Berry, he makes love. And it's his first time at that as much as it is hers.

He might be more nervous than she is.

He's always hated that expression, afterglow, too. But there's no other word for what he's feeling right now, cuddled together under the blankets with her listening to the rain that continues to fall, muffling the rest of the noise and making him feel as though they're alone in the house. For a second, he offers up a brief thanks that no one has come looking for them, his teammates smart enough for once to mind their own business.

"Jesse?"

"Hm?" He strokes her cheek when she props herself up a little against his chest to look at him. She turns her head to kiss his palm and he melts, feeling utterly content for the first time in his life.

"At the risk of sounding banal, what happens now?"

"Now," he says, "we enjoy our last couple of days of break, we go back to godforsaken Ohio, we try to win a National title together, and then we take Broadway by storm."

"You're coming back to McKinley," she whispers

"Yeah. I guess I am." He hadn't been entirely sure about it until he'd talked to Andrea before. Protect your own. Rachel is one of a kind, and he's not losing her for the sake of a National title. His scholarship, his future, is already secured, wherever he finishes senior year. His only concern is Shelby - and if she attempts to threaten him back into line, he's not above playing dirty. Convincing a student to help her exploit a legal loophole and breach a contract? That surely wouldn't sit well with anyone who knew.

"I just thought ... " Rachel bites her lip. "I know neither one of us is exactly thrilled to be at McKinley."

He makes a face, making her laugh, before he finds her hand under the covers and squeezes it, the mood sobering again. "I don't want to leave you," he admits quietly.

"You'll have to," she says, and he looks at her quizzically. "College. Remember? You're moving back here in six months. We're going to be apart for at least two years, longer if I get into a New York school the way I've always planned, although UCLA is on my list of backups, and with all the time we'll both be spending at auditions and rehearsals - "

He chooses his favorite method of de-railing her panic, kissing her soundly enough to elicit a squeak.

"Do you trust me?" he asks when they pull back.

Her eyes soften. "Yeah. I do."

"Then trust me when I say we're going to figure it out together." And they will. This isn't the first or last hurdle they'll face by far - but this, her learning the truth, feels like the biggest one.

"Besides," he teases gently, "after that, you're never getting rid of me."

She flushes. "No notes?"

He laughs, wrapping his arms around her to snuggle together more closely under the blankets. "Flawless."

He sleeps more soundly than he has the entire week, and it's not just because she's next to him, it's not just because he's physically and emotionally spent.

This time, he's not waiting for it to be over.