I'm so sorry for the lateness of this post. I've been dealing with some serious health issues and I've just been too exhausted to write. I hope that you enjoy this chapter. Please review.

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.

Friday Morning Puck's POV

Now that Ms. Pillsbury is the principal I wonder how things are gonna be. She's kind of a fruitcake. We'll probably be going home with weekly pamphlets about whatever cockamamie "issues" that we're supposed to be going through as "confused hormonal teenagers that don't know who we are." It's great that the bullying will probably stop now; cause like the glee club could really use that, but now I'll actually have to go to class. Even worse. Now I'll actually have to pay attention. How am I supposed to keep up with sports, glee club and schoolwork while still getting my Puckerone on? Groaning I bang my head into my locker.

"I'd be careful if I were you. You can't really afford to lose any of the few brain cells that you do have." A voice startles me from my thoughts. Rolling my head slowly across the lockers I look at Quinn. She is one fine lady. Great butt, blonde, kissable lips. Her boobs aren't as big as Santana's, but they're a decent size. And man! That cheerios' uniform emphasizes all the right places. Oh, wait what was she saying?

"Are you even listening to me?" She growls. Sighing I turn to face her fully.

"Dude. It's like seven in the morning. I can't even see straight and you expect me to have a full blown conversation with you." She sends me a deadly glare.

"Why are you so tired? Did Yentl keep you up all night?" She snaps mockingly. Shaking my head I begin to walk away.

"I don't know how many times I have to tell you, we're not dating. Sure Rachel's Jewish and hot in a kinda sneaky nerdy way, but I'm just not into her like that." Spinning to look at her directly I continue, "And why don't you lay off her? She hasn't done anything to you and all you've been is a huge jerk to her. You have no idea the things that she's had to endure in her life. The things that she's still going through." I pause to stare her down. "Just show some respect. Okay?" I say before wandering to first period.

Shelby's POV

Coffee. Is there such a thing as a coffee addiction? If there is then I'm definitely an addict. I could never make it through a day without at least two cups. I sincerely believe that I suffer from withdrawals when I'm deprived. Headaches, fatigue, dizziness, angry outbursts. Taking a huge gulp of the coffee from the teacher's lounge I cringe at the abysmal flavor. The school's coffee may taste dreadful, but there was no way that I was going to stand in line for thirty minutes waiting for my order this morning. I really need to go shopping tonight for a new coffee maker. I wonder how much a Keurig costs?

Glancing up I see 3M sitting by herself skimming through a newspaper. Something still rubs me the wrong way when it comes to her. She's courteous and cordial during conversations, but she's never willing to be the person to start one. She also rarely talks about her personal life. In fact, I've only ever heard her speak of Rachel. Never herself. Never their parents. Never her past. Only Rachel. Her strange behavior makes me wonder what she's hiding. Making up my mind, I stride over and take a seat.

"Good morning. How was your evening?" I greet friendly. She looks up from her paper and smiles.

"Good morning to you as well." She sets her paper aside. "My evening was…loud. I received a fair amount of scolding from Rachel last night, before I was finally able to distract her with a Streisand marathon." I find myself smiling at that.

"She's quite the firecracker, isn't she."

"By nature Rachel is fiercely loyal to those that she cares for. She was most angry over the possibility that you and Mr. Shuester would lose your jobs. Her concern was not direct toward any of the other teachers here." Observing me carefully she takes a sip of her coffee. "She thinks very highly of you as a coach, as an educator, and as a person." I shift uncomfortably in my seat. For some reason that statement feels odd coming from her. "She was quite excited this morning about your planned lesson after school." I smile widely at the thought of working with the talented young girl.

"I'm glad to hear that. I try my hardest to be a good role model for these kids." Before she can respond her phone buzzes with an incoming call.

"Excuse me." She says retrieving the phone. Glancing down at the screen to identify the caller she stands and leaves presumably to have the conversation in private. Sighing I watch her retreating form. Again our discussion revolved solely around Rachel.

"Hey Cockroach. I got you something." Rolling my eyes I turn to Sue as she takes 3M vacated seat.

"Oh? And what would that be?" She gives me a smirk then slides a packet of dog treats and a squirt bottle across the table. Hesitantly I pick up the offered gift. "Um…thank you? I think." She waves her hand in a gesture of indifference.

"Oh, don't thank me. I'm just trying to help you keep your pet in line. She's such a cute thing, but she has a bit of an attitude problem. I thought that you could try using some positive and negative association behavioral training on her."

"Um. I don't own a dog." I reply in confusion.

"Yes you do." She points behind me. "See here comes Wilma right now." Hopping up abruptly she exits the lounge. "Wilma", actually Will, approaches and places a hand on my back taking Sue's seat. That is one popular chair today.

"What did Sue want?" He asks. I sigh and hand him the treats and bottle.

"She was just insulting you as usual." He stares at the items in his hands.

"What do Beggin' Strips and a spray bottle have to do with me?"

"She called you my pet. To be specific, my female dog." I respond.

"What?!" He screeches moving to stand. Grabbing his hand I rub my thumb over the top to relax him.

"Ignore her. Her statements mean nothing. She's just trying to get a rise out of you. If you react it gives her ammo against the club. You also don't want to go around making any scenes with the investigators searching for people to fire." Grasping my hand tightly he breathes deeply to calm himself.

"You're right. I can't keep letting her comments get to me. I just get annoyed sometimes, and with the bombshell that was dropped on the school yesterday I can't help it that I'm a little stressed and on edge." He says.

"You have nothing to worry about. You're a good teacher, a great man, and you really care about these students. The investigators will surely see that. I mean, all they have to do is take a look at the glee club to know that you don't favor bullying. Those kids are like target number one." I reassure him. Flashing me a grateful smile he clasps my hands between both of his.

"You always know what to say to get me out of one of my moods. I'm the luckiest guy on the planet to have you in my life." He squeezes my hands before he stands, gives me a kiss on the cheek and leaves for his first period of the day. Shaking my head in disagreement I too rise and start toward my classroom. Will is not the luckiest guy on the planet. I'm the luckiest girl. He's sweet, considerate, doting, and talented. He's every woman's fantasy. Prince charming. I'm just a mess that has an obsession with all things Streisand and Broadway. I gave up my own daughter to follow a stupid dream that I completely failed at. I then wasted years working with a bunch of ungrateful snot nosed teenagers from six in the morning to twelve at night all for the gain of four trophies. Four lousy trophies is all that I have to my name. I wonder what Rachel will think of that when we finally meet.

Rachel's POV

I slam my locker closed and head toward math. Why did I have to have math first period? It's my worst subject. At least I have my vocal lesson today after school. I'm really excited to see what I'll be learning. It's been years since my last formal vocal lesson, and I know that there is so much that I can learn from my mom. I hope that I can persuade her into singing something for me. I've only heard her sing scales so far and I'm dying to hear her belt out a Broadway classic. Maybe I'll even be able to convince her to sing something with me. Glancing up I notice Quinn standing in my path just in time to weave out of the way.

"Quinn! I'm so sorry. I wasn't paying attention." I apologize to the blonde cheerleader. Today I'm in no mood to have a face off. All I want to do is endure through my school day, so that I can spend some quality time with my mother. And I really don't want to have to do that covered in dye and sugar.

"Whatever. Look, as much as I don't want to do the assignment for glee, I really, really don't want to piss Ms. Corcoran off any more than she already is. So we will be meeting tomorrow at my house to work on it." She says.

"Oh. Um…okay." I stutter out. She thrusts a small piece of paper into my hands.

"Here's my address. Two o'clock work for you?"

"Yeah. Um…that'll work." We stand awkwardly in the sparsely populated hallway for several seconds. "I'll…I'll see you then."

"Yeah." She replies then brushes past me and struts her way down the hall. Weird. She was civil. Not nice. But civil. Why? What's her angle? The bell chimes rousing me from my thoughts informing me that I have five minutes to get to class. I can think about Quinn's attitude change later.

Thankfully the day goes by quickly despite my anxiousness for it to end. Walking into the auditorium I see my mom already there setting up music on the piano.

"How was your day?" She asks with a smile once I've made it on stage. Smiling back I place my bag on the ground near the piano.

"It was good. A little strange. My history teacher, Mr. Gore, was fired this morning, so we had this really young upbeat and hyper substitute that was kind of insane." I say. She chuckles a little.

"Let me guess. Tall, blonde, too enthusiastic, likes to wear costumes and sing." I nod yes. "Holly Holiday. She's insane, but a great teacher."

"I'm sorry that Mr. Gore lost his job, but he did deserve it. And I actually like Ms. Holiday. I hope she stays." I say.

"With everything that's going on and what's going to happen, she'll probably stay for a while, but knowing her this won't be a permanent arrangement." She takes a seat at the piano. "How about we get you warmed up and run some scales to start off with?"

"Sure." We do the vocal exercises and go through the scales quickly before moving onto some songs. She's picked several that she claims will allow her to evaluate my breath control, my diction, and my vocal range. Most are from Broadway though there are a few pop songs. As we go through each one she gives me hints and tips whenever they're needed.

"You really are a very talented singer Rachel. You have a few minor problems with your breath control, but with some coaching and some cardio workouts that will go away. I also believe that we can improve your vocal range. I want you to work on Take a Bow so that we can go over it at our next lesson." My mom compliments and instructs.

"Thank you." I reply shyly. She smiles at me again.

"Did your parents sing?" She asks.

"They couldn't sing a lick. They loved music but they couldn't make it themselves." I answer; which is true. They weren't known for they singing ability, and I know from what 3M's told me about her parents that they couldn't sing either.

"Does your sister sing at all?"

"Yeah. But she's more into classic rock than show tunes."

"I guess it just skipped a generation or two. Your grandparents were most likely terrific singers," She says. I just nod my head. That may be true for 3M, but I know exactly where I got my talent from, and it didn't skip a generation. I just didn't get from my dad.

"So 3M is into classic rock." She says drawing out our conversation. It's almost as though she isn't ready to end the lesson. Maybe she isn't. Maybe this means that she likes me.

"Yeah. The only thing I ever hear at my house is CCR, Bruce Springsteen, and Van Halen. Not that there's anything wrong with those bands; they have some really great songs. It's just that I prefer Broadway and modern pop." I tell her.

"You and your sister are quite different. She has a quieter personality than you. More reserved, laidback. You guys also look nothing alike." Oh no. Does she suspect? Does she know? Calm down Rachel. If she knew she'd have said something by now.

"I take after my mom." I say simply. Not a lie either. As far as I can see, I'm like a mini me of Shelby. She smiles again.

"I know how that goes. My sister is very similar to how our father was. I on the other hand am a carbon copy of my mother."

"You have a sister?" I have an aunt? Cool. If everything goes okay, I hope that I get to meet her.

"Yeah. She's the only family I have. She lives down in Florida with her husband Josh." As she says this I can't help but notice that she seems rather sad. Maybe she does want a family. Maybe she will want me. Staring at each other in awkward contemplation a thought reenters my mind. I still haven't heard her sing.

"Do you think that maybe…" I hesitate unsure of myself.

"Do I think that maybe what?" My mom coaxes.

"Well, it's just that all the kids in glee say you have an amazing voice, and I haven't heard you sing anything other than scales." I say. She smiles understandingly.

"I'll sing, under one condition." She answers.

"What condition?"

"That you sing with me." I grin widely.

"Sure. I'd like that." She searches through her sheet music for a second before coming across something she deems worthy.

"How about a little West Side Story?" She hands me a copy of Somewhere. How fitting. When the music begins, she gestures for me to start.

There's a place for us

Somewhere, a place for us

Peace and quiet and open air

Wait for us

Somewhere

My mom jumps in making my heart nearly leap from my rib cage.

There's a time for us

Someday, a time for us

Time together with time to spare

Time to learn, time to care

Someday

I take over.

Somewhere

We'll find a new way of living

Maybe this song wasn't the best choice.

Oh, we'll find a way of forgiving

Somewhere

Don't cry. Don't cry.

Somewhere

We both sing the final verse.

There's a place for us

A time and place for us

Hold my hand, and we're halfway there

Hold my hand, and I'll take you there

Somehow

Someday

Somewhere

This is too much. She's too much. I need to get out of here before I break down. Clearing her throat my mom breaks the uncomfortable stillness that's fallen over the room.

"So. What's the verdict?" She asks. Taking as deep a breath as I can manage, I attempt to control my emotions.

"It was great. You were great." My voice sounds shaky even to my ears. Bending quickly I scope up my bag. "Um…I need to go. 3M's waiting for me." I flee hastily leaving a confused Shelby behind.

Shelby's POV

Tossing my keys on the end table in my entryway I slip off my shoes and jacket. I can smell something delectable wafting from the kitchen. Having a man that can cook real meals, not just Stouffer's frozen dinners, is amazing. Now when I work late I can still eat a home cooked meal, instead of the takeout I usually have. Will's just setting the table when I wander into the dining room.

"Hey. How was your lesson with Rachel?" He asks serving us both a glass of Merlot. I peck his check in greeting before sitting down.

"It was…interesting." I answer.

"How so?"

"Well. It started out wonderfully. Picking songs for her was easier than most students since she actually enjoys all of my favorite music; so I didn't have to search through unfamiliar genres for decent songs. And her singing is phenomenal. We also had a nice conversation afterward." I say.

"It sounds like you had a pleasant time."

"I did. But then she asked me to sing a song. I told her that I would if she sung with me."

"What happened then?" He asks taking a sip of his wine.

"We sang Somewhere and it was energizing to sing with her, but when the song finished she looked as though she was going to cry. She mumbled some excuse and fled before I could ask her what was wrong."

"Odd." He remarks. I exhale loudly.

"There's just something strange about her and her sister. 3M's so closed off. She never speaks of her past. And Rachel is always so jumpy around me."

"Maybe you intimidate her." He supplies.

"But she admires me." I counter. Shrugging his shoulders he grabs a piece of bread.

"So. Sometimes that can make a person even more intimidating; if you're afraid of embarrassing yourself in front of the person you look up to." Stabbing a carrot I think over what he's said. It makes sense. If I were ever to meet Barbra, I'd probably be worse.

"But that doesn't explain her sister's behavior. I feel like whenever I'm around her she's analyzing me. Like she knows something that I don't, like she's hiding something." Sighing he places his fork on the table.

"I think that you're freaking out about finding your daughter, so in order to distract yourself, your mind is making you read into things. Besides, some people tend to be more reserved than others." He stands up taking our empty plates into the kitchen. Several seconds later he returns with a large box covered in wrapping paper and a bow.

"I picked this up on my way over here." He says handing me the present.

"What is it?" I ask curiously.

"Open it and find out." Eying him I tear off the black paper covered in gold stars to discover…a Keurig. Is it possible to love this man any more than I already do? I shift my gaze up to his smiling face.

"I knew that you'd be at the school for a while and that you wouldn't get a chance to buy a new one tonight. I thought that it'd be something nice that I could do for you since you've been dealing with so much stress lately." Standing up I situate myself on his lap and curl my arms behind his head.

"You are the best boyfriend a girl could ever ask for." I tell him before bringing our lips together for a gentle kiss. Reluctantly I pull away and begin to drag my hands through his hair.

"Is that so?" He teasingly remarks. Taking one of my hands from his hair I run it up and down his chest.

"Yes. But you know what would make you an even better one?" I whisper seductively.

"What?" He questions; his hands sliding lower on my back.

"If you'd help me set it up." His smile falters slightly as I let out a hearty laugh.

Saturday Rachel's POV

Currently I'm standing before my bed with several outfit strewn upon it. It's not that I'm trying to impress Quinn; because I could honestly care less what the cheerleader thinks of me. I just want to receive the minimal number of insults as possible, if I'm going to be spending hours with her. I don't want to end up in a fight. Despite the fact that I've always been a good kid I'm still an orphan that has spent six years in the system. I've been in my fair share of battles, many of which I caused. For my small size I'm actually a decent fighter. I never really won any of the fights, but then again most of the kids I was going up against were in gangs. Sighing I throw my puppy sweater and my penguin sweater into the no pile. Quinn's made it very clear on many occasions that she finds the animal sweaters horrendous.

"Need some help?" A voice startles me from the doorway.

"You should really walk louder or something. One of these days you're going to give me a heart attack." Chuckling with her ever present smirk 3M wanders her way into my room and takes a seat on my bed with a quirk of her brow.

"I'm trying to find something to wear that she won't criticize the entire time we're working on our song." I say once it's clear that she won't be speaking. She considers me for a moment before grabbing a knee length black skirt and a red plain long sleeve top from the heap of clothes on my bed. Rising she snatches a red headband from the dresser and tosses it to me.

"It is still your style, but relatively neutral. There should not be too much complaint." Looking down at the outfit I decide that it'll work. I need to leave soon anyways.

"Have you decided when you will tell her?" 3M asks again.

"Nothing's changed since you asked me last night." I respond curtly escaping to the bathroom to change.

The drive over to Quinn's is awkward at best. No singing. No music. No conversation. 3M's been pressuring me more and more lately to expose my true identity. That the longer I wait the harder it'll be. The longer I wait the more stressed I'll become. But the thing is, I'm just not ready. I know now that she's a good person, and that I wouldn't have too many problems living with her, but I still have no clue if she wants me. Coming to a stop in front of a huge white house with a beautiful lawn, I breathe deeply and turn to 3M.

"I'll call you when we're done." She nods her head in reply then faces the road waiting for me to depart from her truck. Marching up to the door I ring the bell and wait with baited breath. I'm about to ring again when the door swings open to reveal an older blonde woman, that I assume is Quinn's mom, greeting me with a kind smile.

"Hi. You must be Rachel. Quinny said that you'd be by today." She offers me her hand to shake.

"Yes I am. And thank you Mrs. Fabray for opening your home to me.

"Please, call me Judy." She says as she directs me into the luxurious home. "Quinn's room is right up stairs. Let me show you the way." We climb up a grand staircase and down the hallway stopping at the fifth door. Softly knocking on the cream door she calls out to her daughter.

"Quinn! Your friend is here."

"One second!" Judy looks at me.

"If you need anything don't hesitate to ask." She then turns and heads back downstairs. The door opens as I'm watching Judy leave. Moving my gaze back to the room I see Quinn standing there. I'm surprised that she's wearing normal clothes and not her Cheerios' uniform.

"Hello." I say.

"Hey." We stare at each other in uncomfortable silence.

"Um…come on in." She invites after a moment. Observing her room as I walk in I find it to be an average teenage girl's bedroom. Schoolbooks scattered about, posters of various pop bands hanging on the walls, clothes laying on a chair in the corner.

"Nice room."

"Thanks." Again we fall into an uneasy staring match. "So…Um…Broadway is really not my thing. I hope you have a song in mind cause I'm lost when it comes to show tunes." She breaks the match. Nodding my head I place my bag on the ground and riffle through it for my i-Pod, courtesy of 3M, and the sheet music of the different songs I have in mind.

"Well, I brought a number of songs that I really love. Though, I'm not entirely sure what your vocal range is." I spread the music out on her bed for her to browse through.

"How about this one?" She asks holding up a paper. A wide smile spreads across my face at the choice.

"It's perfect."

We practice for about two hours on the song, before calling it good saying that we'll go over it once more before we perform.

"You know Mauer, you're not as bad as I thought. And I'm sorry about hounding you on the whole Puck thing." She says as I'm packing up.

"I can understand how one would come to the conclusion that we're a couple. We do have a strangely close relationship, but I view him as a brother. Not a potential boyfriend." Hesitating for fear of her reaction I cautiously say my next words. "And I know that you're interested in him, but I really do think that you could do better." Sighing she sits down on her bed.

"I know. It's just that since I've joined glee my popularity status has dropped a lot. I know that that seems really shallow, but it's all I have. I recently found out that my dad's been cheating on my mom for years. And she knows, she just pretends it's not happening. All this family ever does is pretend nothing's happening. If we sweep it under the rug then nothing is wrong. If we can't see it there's no problem. I guess I just thought that if I was dating the second most popular guy in the school that I'd get my popularity back. That could have that one constant in my life again." Unsure of myself I slowly place a hand on her shoulder.

"You know, you say your popularity is everything, but do any of those people actually care about you? If you were in trouble, would you trust them to help you? In a couple of years those superficial friendships won't matter. I think that you need to focus on developing friendships with people that ten years from now you'll still be talking to." She gives me a small smile.

"You're probably right." She fidgets with her hands for a while thinking over what I've just said.

"I can't help but ask, why the second most popular and not the first?" She laughs.

"Finn is the most popular, and let's just say I've been there, done that and never want to again." She pauses a moment then looks at me with a curious expression. "I was talking to Puck earlier and he said that you're going through some things. Is there anything that I can do to help?" I sigh and look away.

"Not really."

"Oh." Glancing back at her I decide to tell her a little of my story; obviously leaving out the part where Shelby's my mom.

"My parents died when I was eight. I was in foster care until recently when 3M stepped in. She been living off and on in Africa doing humanitarian work for the last couple of years."

"Oh…I'm…I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's not your fault." And queue the awkward silence.

"Um…did…did you want to stay for dinner?" I smile at her.

"Sure. I'd like that."

Thank you for reading. Please tell me what you thought.