He felt too old to be seen at Colombia. Too old to be student and too young to be a professor. Too stupid, too tan, wearing too faded jeans. When he spotted Henry's office at the end of a corridor, he was close to turning and walking back home. Puck was especially in comparison to Henry all those things, too old and young and stupid and tan and dressed too informally. How could Quinn ever have loved both of them? He didn't understand it.

"Hello?" Henry asked softly. "Can I help you?"
If Henry hadn't been sitting in the office with his name on the door, Puck would have walked past him. He didn't look cruel. Or cold. Or the kind the guy that stalked his girlfriend by phone. Puck actually didn't even recognize him. The image he had created in his mind of the older man resembled Count Dracula more than this actual person.

"Hi" Puck said.

"Come in" Henry urged. "Is this about the fall or summer term?"

"It's…" Puck hesitated. "It's about Quinn."
Henry raised his eyebrow but kept the tentative smile on his face.

"Then I guess you're Noah Puckerman?"
"Yes."

"Come in" Henry said again and this time Puck stepped in.

The office was tiny and crowded. There were books everywhere. In English and French and something that might be German. Puck had always been bad at foreign languages. And he couldn't remember when he last read a book. He felt his courage melt away.

"Sit down" Henry said.

Puck did. He was sweating now. This was a bad idea. He could have spent the morning with her instead of sitting in this office with her former boyfriend. He was wasting time.

"It's about Quinn?" Henry asked.

"Stop calling her" Puck spat out.

He realized that he sounded like a child. Was it because Henry was so much older than him or because he was a teacher? Puck had always had trouble with authority figures.

"Noah… Can I call you that?"

"Sure."

"Noah, does Quinn know you came here?"
"No."

"Why did you come then?"

Puck swallowed. It would have been easier if Henry had acted mad or frustrated or anything. His pleasant smile made Puck uncomfortable. They weren't friends.

"If she wanted to talk to you, she would have answered the thousand first times you called" he said.

Henry tilted his head to one side and inspected Puck's face closely. Puck looked away, out the tiny opened window. He didn't feel like getting a psych evaluation.

"Are you together now?" Henry asked.

"No, we're just friends."

"But you love her?"

"No. Not like that."
Henry smiled again.

"I wouldn't have called if I had known that was with you now" he said.

"She's not. Not really."

"Do you know that we slept together? Not long ago?"

"Yes."

"You do?"

"Yes."

They were quiet for a few seconds. A clock on the wall ticked loudly. Puck was still sweating.

"You know, Noah," Henry sighed. "We are different, aren't we?"

"Obviously" Puck replied tersely.

Maybe it was because he was acting like one, but Henry was clearly talking to him as if he was a child now.

"For a long time, I benefitted from being your opposite" Henry said. "You hurt her so bad and I supported her and dried her tears and listened to her talk about you. About the fight. About the baby. She knew that I would never make her feel that miserable."

Puck said nothing. He was still looking away from Henry, avoiding eye contact. He spotted a photograph of Quinn on one of the crowded shelves. She looked young. Her hair was short and her smile wide. He had missed so much of her life. Ten years. Jesus. They really had been idiots.

"But then" Henry went on. "But then…. Or actually, after your high school reunion, it changed. Suddenly, I was too different from you. I didn't make her feel the right things. Or not enough. Or something."

"I don't know what you want me to say" Puck said, still eyeing her picture.

"You don't have to say anything" Henry sighed.

He turned around to see what Puck was looking at and smiled faintly.

"I guess I forgot to take that picture down" he said.

"Forgot, huh?"
"It's a nice picture, right?"

"Do people ask you if she's your daughter?"
Henry smiled at this, like it was a joke, like he was used to those kinds of jokes. He had been eight years with her, more or less. Puck forgot that sometimes.

"I took it the summer after we got together. She stayed at Yale and took some summer courses so that we could spend some quality time together. The campus was almost empty in the beginning of august. We could walk together without getting suspicious glances."

"I don't want to know" Puck said.

"I won't call her again" Henry said.

"Really?"

"I promise."
"Thanks."
Puck stood up. He wanted to walk over and turn the photograph over. He didn't though. It was just a picture. It was all that Henry had. Puck, on the other hand, was going to call her right now and meet her for lunch.

"Take good care of her" Henry said.

"She takes care of herself" Puck responded.

…

"I have to tell you something" they said in unison.

She laughed.

"You can go first" she offered.

"No, you go."

"Okay."
She stole one of his fries before taking a deep breath. She tried to smile some more. She was delivering good news after all. It was just inside her that it felt bad.

"I went to see the producers of Wicked today with Rachel to negotiate her contract" she began. "And I got you a job. If you want it."
He looked hesitant.

"As what?"

"They needed someone handy to work on the props and stage. Someone who understands how engines work and can build stuff and I immediately thought of you. What do you think?"
"It sounds great" he said and smiled and she smiled back.

"There's a backside to it though" she admitted.

"What? It doesn't pay? I have to work in the middle of the night? I have to move to Idaho?"

She laughed.

"No. It starts this Monday."
"This Monday?"

"Yes."
"In four days?"
"Apparently the guy they had hired backed out."

"Well, it's still sounds great" he said.

"Yes. I got you the number."

She dug up the business card she had received from the man that Puck should call to confirm. He took it from her. Four days. They had so much left to see of this city. Four days weren't enough.

"What's your news?" she asked, to distract herself.

"Well, it's also good and bad, I guess. No, actually it's good but I'm worried that you might be pissed at me."
"I won't" she replied too quickly.

"Keep that thought in mind" he grinned. "I went to see Henry today."

"Henry? My Henry?"
"Well, I hope that you don't consider him to be yours anymore 'cause I told him to leave you alone."
"You did what?"
"I told him to stop calling you."
"Why?"
"You said that you wouldn't be angry at me" he reminded her and smiled nervously. "You want my fries?"

"I was handling that" Quinn said.

"No, not really" he said.

"I'm not some little girl" she said. "I don't need my two ex-boyfriends deciding who is allowed to call me and not."

"I know, I know."

He was still holding out his basket with fries to her. She took one. He took as a peace offering and smiled. She didn't smile back.

"I'm serious, Puck" she said. "Don't do stuff like that."
He hung his head. Like a dog. Like a boy. Like the boy she had fallen in love with in High School.

"I'm sorry" he said. "I just hated it when he called. It reminded me of him and him and you and…"
He trailed off. Quinn said nothing but she kept eating his fries until they were all gone. He was clearly waiting for her to speak next.

"What else did he say?" she asked.

"Henry?"
"Yeah."

"Why?"

"I don't know. What else did you discuss? My weight? My personal hygiene?"
Puck grinned again.

"Just a little bit. He said that I should make sure that you shower ever so often."

She rolled her eyes at him.

"Go call that number" she said. "Do something right today."

…

She made a schedule. She was that kind of person. She had always been that kind of person, she had just been distracted this summer.

"I want to make sure that we fit everything in" she said.

That afternoon they rode one of those busses where you sit on top and listen to guide talking in your headphone about the famous sights around them. After a while, Quinn took her earbuds out and just watched the streets instead.

"I thought you loved guided things" Puck said, removing his too.

"I thought so" she said.

They got off the bus after an hour at Battery Park and walked around in the midst of business men and Japanese tourists.

"I can't believe we only have four days" he kept saying.

"I can't believe I have to get a job now" she groaned.

They ate dinner at a touristy place with plastic cloths on the table. She ate terrible lasagna and he a terrible steak. They shared a wonderful dessert.

"I feel stressed out" she admitted. "We won't have enough time."

"It's not like we're moving away" he consoled her. "The city will still be here."
"Yeah, but not like this" she said. "We will never have an endless amount of time to discover it again."
"No" he agreed. "I guess not."

She paid for them both. To celebrate his new job. He countered to say that he should pay to celebrate that he had gotten Henry off her back but she just rolled her eyes at that.

"Why does the thought of me and Henry bother you so much?" she asked as they walked to the nearest subway.

"He didn't treat you right."

"He kind of did. I mean, he didn't mistreat me" she said. "He just didn't love me enough. Not his fault, really. I did the same, to be honest."

"Sounds like a healthy relationship" he noted.

"No, it wasn't" she said. "That's why I'm not with him anymore."

"That's good" he said. "If you still would have been with him, I would have had to pay for that steak."

"No" she corrected him. "Without me, you would be sitting home in the apartment waiting for Santana to come back."
"True" he admitted. "True."
"And I would be… working" she said. "Of course."
"Life is better like this" he said.

"Yes" she agreed.

And she took his hand. Just like that. Like it was nothing and maybe it was. He didn't pull his arm and neither of them tried anything else. They just walked like that. Hand in hand.

…

The next day, she woke him at seven. He groaned so loudly that his own newly woken ears hurt. They ate breakfast on the go and arrived at Coney Island at nine. The beach was almost empty and they lay down on the cool sand. She brought a book but he just watched her. As the sun rose, they removed more and more layers of clothing. Around midday, they took their first dip in the ocean.

"I haven't been swimming since I injured my shoulder" he said.

"No water fights" she reminded him.

"You don't want to sit on my shoulders?" he teased.

"No."

He caught her around the waist and tried to lift her. She squirmed and screamed and laughed. He dropped her and she plummeted below the surface.

"I'm just trying to save you some pain" she told him, spluttering salt water out of her mouth.

"Don't you want to live a little dangerous?" he asked.

"No, last time I did that, I got pregnant."
"Good times."
"Shut up."

He caught her again but she was wet now and glided out of his arms. He just wanted to touch her. Every part of her. Every part that was now visible in her bikini. Her stomach and legs and chest and shoulders and…

"Stop looking at my boobs" she told him.

"I wasn't."
She crossed her arms but it was all a joke. Everything was a joke, it seemed. Today, nothing could go wrong.

"We should go back to our towels" she said. "Someone might steal our stuff."
"Just a little bit longer."
"I'm not living dangerously" she reminded him. "You can stay. I'll wave from the beach."

"Nah" he said. "I don't want to be in all alone. It's no fun without you."

They walked up the sandy bank and dried themselves in the sandy towels. When she asked him to cover her in sunscreen he was finally allowed to touch her. At least the parts she wasn't able to reach. She did his back. He felt every movement of every finger as she rubbed his skin. Maybe he needed another swim to cool off.

"We should have spent more time here" she said.

"Nah, today's perfect."
She lay down her head on his thigh and went back to her book. Her cheek against his bare thigh. He didn't know what to do with his hands. After a while he just let them settle in her tangled and tousled hair. She didn't protest. He began to untangle it, piece by piece, strand by strand. He focused on her blonde locks and nothing else in order to stop thinking of her being so close to him. After a while, he realized that she wasn't reading anymore. She had closed her eyes.

"You look like a cat" he said.

"I feel like one. I've always loved people touching my hair."
I have always loved you, he thought.

…

They stayed on the beach until the sun was setting. It was the best day of the summer. Just sitting there with her head on his leg. His hands on her hair. She fell asleep and didn't wake up until Puck gently shook her. He didn't say so but she could see that his leg was cramping.

"One last dip?" he asked.

She agreed. She stood in the ocean and let the waves hit her stomach with all their force. None of them could make her fall. She stood soundly on the ocean floor.

"What are you doing?" he asked, laughing.

"Proving that I am stronger than the waves" she said.

"Not stronger than me" he said, pushing her over.

"Not again" she said when she reached the surface. "Not twice in one day."

"Don't seek revenge" he smiled. "Think of the shoulder."

"Your shoulder looks fine" she scoffed and jumped at him, attempting to knock him over.

He weighed more than her and stood his ground. She tried to trip him, drag him, push him and even punch him. He just laughed.

"How are you doing, Q?" he taunted her.

Her last attempt was successful. She stood on tiptoe and kissed him. It surprised him enough to give her an opportunity to push him over. She screamed out her victory when he came back to surface.

"I win" she said.

"You don't fight fair" he said.

"Everything's fair in love and war."
"Is it?"
He kissed her this time. But when he pulled away, he didn't try to knock her over. He just stared at her and she stared back. Terrified.

"I'm hungry" she said. "Let's eat."

…

They ate in silence. He regretted everything. But then again, she had been the one to kiss him first. She was the one who had taken his hand, who had put her head in his lap. She wasn't innocent. Right? Right?

"Did we ruin it?" he asked.

"Maybe" she said.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be" she said and smiled. "We both ruined it."
"It was just a kiss" he said.

"It's not really just a kiss, is it?"
He exhaled. Her hair was still tousled. She had sand in her eyebrows. Half an hour ago he had kissed her and now it felt like they were breaking up.

"No" he said. "It's never just a kiss with you."
He felt brave and scared at the same time. Was it because time was running out anyway? Their perfect summer was ending. Everything was about to change again.

"If it had been Sam or Mike or… anyone, it wouldn't have mattered. But you and I… We can never be both. We can't be friends and kiss. We just can't."

"You're not eating" he said.

"I'm not hungry anymore."

She looked like she was about to cry.

"It's not the end of the world" he said. "You're still you. I'm still me."

"I'm losing you again" she said. "We did so well. All summer. Keeping everything at bay. Being friends and now…"

"If it makes you feel better" he said. "I've been terrible at keeping things at bay."

She chortled.

"It doesn't help, actually."
"I know" he said. "I just wanted to say it. Now that everything is ruined anyway."
The waiter refilled their glasses of water. He looked quizzically at them but said nothing.

"I'm sorry" Puck said. "No, I'm not, but okay. I love you. Have always loved you. Will always love you. And it's okay that you don't feel the same. We had this summer. You and me. It's been great. The best summer ever. That won't change."

"How can you love me after all we've been through?" she asked, almost accusatorily. "We've broken each other's hearts so many times that I have a hard time keeping track."

He just shrugged.

"Can't help it" he smiled.

She smiled, despite the tears in her eyes.

"So you were really looking at my boobs?"
He grinned.

"Probably."

She took a fork of food. He thought that that counted as a good sign. Their last meal. God, this was too depressing.

"At least I know that this time you're not going back to some guy" he said. "It's oddly comforting."

"You'd rather me be alone and miserable than happy with another guy?" she asked.

"Right now? Yes."
She smiled. He smiled back. He wanted to ask her things. Question her. Did she really feel nothing for him? Nothing? The reason they had parted ways after the reunion had been because of Henry, who was now out of the picture. She had said that she loved him then. Had that changed? Had it been the wrong kind of love? He wanted to ask her so many things but he didn't because he knew that it would do no good. She was too upset, too scared. And he just wanted to keep her a few more minutes.

"Can we go home?" she asked.

He nodded. This time he paid even though they weren't celebrating anything. The subway was crowded and they stood pressed together in a way that was very uncomfortable right now. He could smell her breath and her sweat and he had to restrain himself from kissing her again. When they got off the train to exchange to another line, it felt easier to breathe.

"Are you coming back with me?" he asked. "Or going home?"
"I should go home" she said.

"Okay."

"But I don't want to be alone."

"Okay."

They took the train to Brooklyn. This one had more space and they could sit side by side. They didn't talk. He hardly breathed. Then she took his hand. Just like yesterday. Just the hand. Just his palm against hers. They got off the train at his stop and walked the streets of Brooklyn in silence.

"What will happen now?" she asked.

"You're holding my hand" he said.

"I know."

"What does that mean?"

"I don't know."

They held hands until he had to rummage through his bag to find the key. She stood close to him as he unlocked the door. And he had no idea what was happening.

…