"I can only imagine what it will be like when I walk by Your side."

When the sun breaks through the stained glass window painted to look like the Virgin Mary, my shoulders shudder and the chills race all through my body. I feel tingly inside, like between these four walls and standing on this floor all lined with pews is exactly where I'm supposed to be. Dad used to tell me that when you get the chills, it's God wrapping his arms around you. I think I believe him now.

"I can only imagine what my eyes will see when Your face is before me… I can only imagine."

Church is the fullest it's ever been on this fine Sunday morning. There isn't one single pew that isn't completely filled, and everyone sits with their knees touching. Some people hold hands, others sway from side to side with their eyes closed. I don't know about anybody else in my family, but I've always really loved it when the choir sings "I Can Only Imagine." It's my favorite gospel song by far.

"Surrounded by Your glory, what will my heart feel? Will I dance for you, Jesus, or in awe of You be still?"

It's not unusual for a few people to cry when the choir sings. Hell, sometimes I cry when the choir sings too. And nobody ever judges, by the way. A box of tissues makes its way around and snakes through the pews and everyone wipes their eyes and nobody makes anyone feel weird about crying, and I think that's beautiful. People cry in church all the time.

But nobody ever cries the way everyone in church seems to be crying today…

"Will I stand in Your presence? Or to my knees, will I fall? Will I sing hallelujah? Will I be able to speak at all?"

Wait, something about today's morning mass is a little bit off; I'm only just now starting to notice.

Everyone is wearing yellow. Various shades of yellow, too. Canary yellow, flaxen yellow, corn yellow, bumblebee yellow, butter yellow, Amber, cream, mustard, saffron… why is everybody wearing yellow?

"I can only imagine… I can only imagine."

And those voices… those two, sweet, beautiful, mellifluous voices, singing together in perfect harmony. Two entirely different voices — voices of opposite spectrums — but when they come together, something magical happens. I know those two voices, I've heard them a million times. I can recognize their perfect pitch anywhere…

"I can only imagine when that day comes, and I find myself standing in the sun."

Why are Rachel and Shelby singing in my church today? Why are Rachel and Shelby even IN my church today?

And wait, why is everyone in Glee Club here? There's Santana and Brittany and Blaine and Kurt and Sam and Sugar and Mr. Schue and everybody else and they all seem sad… they're all so sad… everyone is so sad… even Russel and Judy, who sit so close to each other that it looks like they're connected...

Mercedes is sitting in the front pew and she's next to mom and dad… and then there's Mykel and Frannie and… and Beth?!

"I can only imagine when all I will do is forever… forever worship You..."

Rachel's sad too! What's wrong with her?! Why is she crying? She can't even sing anymore, she's just shaking her head and crying and she can't even stand up and then I didn't even know that her dads are here too but apparently they are because they both just come up to where she's standing and they both have to hold her and carry her away and she's crying so hard and so loud that she sounds like a baby animal being ripped away from its mother and I don't like hearing her cry like that…

Hold on… what about me? Where am I at in all of this?

"Surrounded by Your glory, what will my heart feel? Will I dance for You, Jesus, or in all of You be still? Will I stand in Your presence? Or to my knees will I fall? Will I sing hallelujah? Will I be able to speak at all?"

Shelby keeps singing even when Rachel's gone and that's when I see it. That's when I see me.

There's a casket at the end of the aisle. A pretty, yellow, shiny, sparkly casket. And when I get closer to it, I can't deny that it's me inside. I'm all done up in pretty makeup and my hair is curly. I'm washed and dressed in my favorite white dress. The necklace Rachel gave me with the "R" on it is around my neck. And the bracelet Mom and Dad gave me for my birthday is around my wrist. I look like I'm sleeping… except my chest isn't moving…

I'm… dead? Is this… my funeral…?

One look to my right and I have my answer. There's a picture propped up on something that looks like a giant easel. It's me and I'm smiling and I look really pretty in my Cheerios uniform. My hair is all long and flowing down my back with bouncy curls and I look like a model. I've seen this picture of me at least a dozen times in the yearbook. But it's the only time I've seen this picture have the year I was born and the year it currently is right now, written in black numbers across the bottom.

I don't want to be dead! I can't be dead! I don't want to be dead!

I look away from that stupid picture and then back into the casket at my body, and what I see next makes me want to jump out of my skin!

Suddenly, Shelby stops singing and everybody is dead silent and standing up! They're all staring at me and looking at me and I'm looking at me too, because I was clean a second ago! A second ago, I was clean and washed up and in this casket looking pretty but now there's blood all over me! There's so much blood and it's coming from my nose and my mouth and it's so thick and runny that the casket isn't even yellow anymore…

"Quinn!" I scream at myself, then put my hands on my shoulders and shake hard. "Quinn! Quinn!"

Everyone in the church starts screaming my name too, so loud that my ears hurt, but I'm still not responding. I'm still dead..

"Quinn!"

"Quinn!"

"Quinn!"

When I wake up, it's only because my body is being shaken just as violently as I was shaking myself at my funeral. My shoulders go down, my head jerks up, and I'm thrust from sleep to full consciousness in a matter of seconds. I'd usually be annoyed if I was woken up in such a violent manner, but today I'm willing to make an exception. That dream was plain awful.

"Wake up, Quinn. Come on, wake up." Mom's voice doesn't match the way she was shaking me. Her voice is low and smooth and her movements are harsh and intense. "Wake up, kiddo."

My eyes snap open and start to water as they adjust to the sudden light, and I feel a headache forming behind my eyes. I don't know how Mom knew that I needed to be woken up, but I'm starting to think that she has original senses inside of her body that tell her when I need her the most. I know I would have woken up eventually, but it was better to wake up from a dream like that sooner instead of later.

"You okay?" She asks as she sits down on the edge of my bed and pulls my blanket back away from my face. I don't know what time it is and I'm not quite sure how long I had been asleep, but she still has a satin wrap on her head, so it must be kind of early in the morning. She wears that wrap to bed and it's usually off by the time me and Mercedes wake up in the morning.

I only remember that my throat hurts when I swallow. The burning sensation gets better and better every day, but I think I still have a long way to go before it doesn't burn at all. I start to sit up slowly and that's when I see that Mom has my medicine bag with her. It has to be around 9:00 and it has to be the next morning. I didn't think I slept that long, but apparently I did.

When I got back from Baskin-Robbins with Rachel, I sat down and ate dinner and everyone wanted to ask me how things with Rachel went, but nobody really did. I don't think anybody thought it was their business to ask. I would have told them, though. If they had asked, I would have told them that Rachel and I are fine. I don't know if we're dating again and I wouldn't exactly call her my girlfriend, but I know that I'm not single and free to do as I please and neither is she. We're working it out one step at a time.

I went to bed soon after we ate dinner because my throat was hurting and I took some of the pain medicine I have. The pain medicine always makes me sleepy, so I laid down and fell asleep and it couldn't have been any later than 7:30 when I went to bed for the night. I slept for a long time, I guess. I slept since 7:30 last night. And I feel great, I feel like I slept that long. I wonder if Santana ever ended up coming over…

"You have a bad dream?" Mom opens up my medicine bag and starts with the big bottle of my antibiotic. "I heard you cryin' all the way in the hall."

"Hmm?" I moan because moaning is easier and less painful than talking.

"I heard you crying in the hallway," she sticks the syringe in the bottle and draws up the thick white liquid. "Sounded like a bad dream."

"Yeah," I whisper. I find that the first words of the day hurt the worst and according to the doctor, that's normal. It's normal to be in excruciating pain first thing in the morning after my throat has rested while I was asleep. "Bad dream."

"Yeah? S'all right, baby," she taps the syringe on the side of the bottle so excess liquid doesn't drip on my bed. "Here, first one."

I open my mouth and tilt my head back slightly because I know the drill. I tried to give myself my medicine when I first came home, because I'm seventeen and I'm not a baby and I know how to suck up stuff into a syringe and squirt it out. But Mom insists that she's the one who gives me my medicine and I guess I'm okay with that. I think it's just one more of the things I stole from her when I did what I did. I made it hard for her to trust me and that trust bleeds over into something as simple as taking medicine.

Either that, or Mom just really likes to take care of me.

I make a little noise and wince when she squirts the first round of medicine down my throat because it burns, but I know I have to swallow it. So I close my lips and even though I want to cry because it hurts so bad, I don't. I just close my lips, let the medicine trickle down the back of my throat, and try my hardest to bear with the pain.

"Good girl," Mom mumbles and uses her thumb to wipe the medicine that dribbled down my chin. "Three more, okay?" She uses the same syringe and draws up the second antibiotic. I clench my eyelids closed really tight and nervously anticipate the second round with an open mouth.

"I hate the way this one tastes," I stick my tongue out after I swallow the second one and wrinkle my nose. "It tastes like earwax."

"And how would you know what earwax taste like, girl?" Mom laughs as the screws the cap off my heart medicine next. "You been munchin' on some earwax or something?"

"Maybe," I shrug with a playful grin. "I just wish all my medicine can taste like bubblegum." I tilt my head back again and let her give me the heart medicine. "I don't need any pain medicine."

"You sure?" She pauses on taking the cap off my pain medicine. "You not in any pain?"

"No, I'm okay." I wipe my lips with the back of my hand. "I'm hungry."

"I know you are," she stands up and starts stuffing all my medicine back into the bag. "There's some oatmeal and apple juice downstairs on the table I made for you. I want you to go eat it 'fore them antibiotics mess your stomach up. You hear?"

"Yes ma'am."

"And I just got off the phone with that nutritionist. You got an appointment at the end of the month, alright? You make sure you tell your mama to take you when you go back there. Promise me you gonna go."

"I promise," I look down when I say that, not because I intend on breaking my promise but because it's too hard to look her in the eye.

It hasn't fully set in for me yet. I know I'm going back to my old house by next Monday, and I know these are my last days with the Joneses, but it hasn't fully registered with me yet. It hasn't hit me that by this time next month, I'll be back under the same roof as Judy and Russel and I'll be back in the same deep end of the ocean without a paddle or a lifesaver to grab onto. I try not to think about it too much because it makes me sad, but maybe it's time that I do start thinking about it… maybe it's time to prepare myself.

"...Do I have to go?" I finally look up at Mom, and the look on her face breaks my heart. "Isn't there something you can do?"

"Hey listen," she sighs and sits back down on my bed. She pulls me closer to her and wraps her arms around my body and I've seen her do this to Mercedes sometimes. She makes her lay on her chest and she rubs her cheek with her fingers and it really calms Mercedes down when she's having a rough time. It's calming me down too. "I don't want you to worry about it, mmkay? There ain't nothing anyone can do about it. You gots to stay with your mama and that's that. But I don't want you to worry about it. Where you live… it don't make you any more or less my daughter. You can still come over here and stay the night on the weekends, I'll keep your room set up. It's gonna be okay."

"Is it?" I ask because she says that it's going to be okay but it doesn't sound like she believes it. "I wanna stay here with you…"

"I know, sweetie. I know… I want you here, too. But things are the way they are for a reason, you know? Sometimes things don't work out… and maybe… maybe it's for the better."

"What if I run away? What if I run away and just come here? Or I can beg the judge… I can beg him to let me stay and tell him that I deserve a choice and… and I can tell him about my dad. I can tell him that my dad is abusive and he —"

"Quinn, listen." She picks my head up off her chest and forces me to look her in her eyes, and our eyes kind of match each other's. I don't mean that in the sense that they look alike or anything because obviously they don't. Her eyes are dark brown and mine are green. But they both have pain behind them. Pain, mixed with unshed tears. "If you take anything away from being here with me, I want you to take away this. You listenin' to me?"

"I'm listening, Mommy."

"You be a kid. Stop worrying about things you ain't got no business worrying about. Me and Jared… we always gonna be here for you. When you need a place to lay your head or need someone to talk to or a safe place to be yourself? You come here. But all this talk about begging a judge and telling about your dad and all that…" she sighs. "That's not for you to worry about. That's for me and Jared to take care of. You just… be a seventeen-year-old little girl. Promise me you will be."

"I promise."

She lets me lay my head back down on her chest and we both just sit here for a while in silence, taking each other in. She rubs my back in gentle circles and I listen to the steady "lub-dub" of her heartbeat.

I know she wants me to be a kid, that's always been her biggest issue with me. When I first came here while I was pregnant, she always told me not to worry about the money and how I was going to buy the things my baby needed because that wasn't what I should be worried about at fifteen-going-on-sixteen. She says she wants me to be a kid and to stop worrying about things that adults should worry about but in all honesty… I don't know how that's possible.

How does she expect me not to worry about the fact that I have to go home? I do feel a little bit stronger and a little bit wiser now that I've been here and I know what a good family is supposed to be like and what love is supposed to feel like, but I'm not ready. I'm not ready to go back home. I'm not ready to leave them. How can I go anywhere but here when I know this is where I'm meant to be? I know she wants me to be a kid… but I can't when I'm not where I'm supposed to be.

"Alright, kiddo," she taps her hand on my butt twice as if she's evicting me from her lap. When I sit up, she gets off my bed and heads for the door again. "Go 'head and get yourself together. I'm gonna go heat up your food in case it's cold. I'll meet ya downstairs."

"Okay."

She closes my door behind her and as soon as she leaves, I hear the doorbell ring and Whitney and Bobby start barking like crazy. It's probably just Dad coming home. He didn't work today because he's still on family leave with my emergency and stuff, but he left out to grab a few groceries and soft foods that I can eat. He doesn't take his key when he leaves and he knows someone is home, but it really sucks sometimes because he makes the dogs bark when he has to ring the doorbell.

As I rummage through my drawers in search of a decent pair of pajama pants, I'm beginning to wonder if maybe Mom is just trying to act brave for me. In a way, it seems like she's not really bothered by the fact that I have to go back to Judy and Russel. She's comforting me and telling me to act like a kid and telling me that "this is the way it has to be", and I think maybe she's just putting up a front so she doesn't upset me.

I heard her crying the other night. It was while I was still in the hospital, and it was the same day the social worker came to us and told us that the judge plans on sending me back to my parents. She didn't cry at the time, she mostly just yelled about how unfair it was. But then when she saw me peeking around the corner eavesdropping, she put on a smile and acted like everything was okay. I heard her crying that night. She and Dad were outside my room talking about just taking me and moving the whole family to another state. She was crying a lot and that's when I realized how serious this is.

I think she tries to be brave so that she doesn't upset me, but I'm already upset. If I go back to Russel and Judy, I think I'm going to be upset for the rest of my life.

I tie the drawstrings around my waist when I put on my favorite pair of blue fuzzy pants and put a plain white t-shirt over the tank top I slept in. Part of the beauty of cutting my hair short like I did is not having to worry about what it looks like in the mornings. Sometimes it's messy and sticking up all over the place, but all I usually have to do is run my fingers through it and it falls just fine. One look in my mirror and I run my fingers through my hair and I'm all set for the day.

Rachel will probably come over later. She says she wants to avoid being home as much as possible because it's depressing not having both her dads under the same roof anymore, so I told her she could come over after school if she wanted to. I can't wait to go back to school. I can't wait to be back in Glee club.

I slide my feet into my slippers and head for the steps. And I'm thinking that I'm just going to sit at the table and have breakfast with Mom and Dad, because we're the only ones home since Mercedes is at school. I'm thinking that this is going to be the same day as yesterday with me just lounging around on the couch, watching TV and taking multiple naps with Dad. I think that this is just going to be another boring day.

But when I reach the landing of the steps, I'm face to face with someone who is the furthest thing from normal. I'm face to face with someone I never thought I'd see again. I'm face to face with someone who makes my stomach drop down to my kneecaps.

...I never expected to see Bailey standing in the hallway.


When a light gust of wind blows, I watch the delicate white petals sway gently and a few little tufts of soft dirt blow over the rim of the purple pot. I stroke my fingers along the petals and touch the bumpy yellow center. I've never been given a plant before, but this one is awfully pretty. I don't know the first thing about taking care of a plant, but I think it was really thoughtful for her to bring me a gift, so I'll try to keep it alive for that reason. I'll leave it on the windowsill so it can get some light, and I'll water it at the same time every single day,

It's a nice day outside for it to be the middle of winter in Lima, Ohio. The sun is shining and the wind is blowing, but there's not really a chill in the air. And it's really quiet since the birds all flew south for the winter. We're both being really quiet too, by the way. I don't think either one of us knows what to say.

She wanted to know if there was a place where we could talk and be alone. I started to take her up to my bedroom but given what happened the last time we were together, I didn't think that being in a bedroom alone with her was a good idea. So I grabbed my coat and stepped out onto the porch. Now I'm sitting on the creaky old bench that swings from the ceiling, and she's standing right across from me with her back against one of the pillars.

She drives a nice car. It's silver and it's a Volkswagen and I'm not sure what year it is, but it looks pretty modern and recent. It's not exactly the kind of car I pictured her driving, but it suits her now that I look at it. And I know it's hers, because there's a decal on the back window that has two hockey sticks crossing and white cursive letters that say "Quinn."

"...They're daisies," she drums her fingers along the white railing that wraps around the porch.

"Huh?" I raise one eyebrow as I finally look at her.

She changed her hair and that's the first thing I noticed when I saw her in the hallway a few minutes ago. It's really dark now, but it's purple with a reddish tinge to it. She's wearing it pin straight and down, but she has a dark yellow knit beanie hat on her head. Her eye makeup is really dramatic and pretty. It's white with black winged eyeliner and applied nearly perfect. I like her jeans. They're black with rips in the legs and stuffed into white Doc Martens. I also like the way her yellow plaid flannel matches her beanie hat. Her hair isn't the only thing that's different since the last time I saw her. She's also sporting a silver hoop in her left nostril.

"The flowers," she shifts her weight onto her back leg and raises her eyebrows at me. "They're daisies. I asked the guy at the flower shop what kinda flowers are good for like… meaning rebirth and new beginnings — you know, shit like that — and he told me daisies. So they're daisies."

"Oh…" I nod my head slowly and put the plant down on the bench next to me. "Pretty. Thanks."

"Look, Quinn. It doesn't have to be awkward… you know." She looks down at the porch and even though she just said that it doesn't have to be awkward, it seems pretty awkward to me. "I came here to see how you were doing… and to apologize, I guess."

"I'm doing okay." I bite the inside of my lip. I don't know if she's still my therapist or not, so I don't know how much is okay to tell her. I mean, I feel like she's still my therapist. Even though things are awkward between us, I still feel like I need to spill my guts whenever I look at her. There's just so many things I have to tell her… "I'm better. And you don't have to apologize. I'd just… rather not… you know, talk about it."

"Yeah, well I think you know that we have to talk about it." She looks off into the distance and I've never seen Bailey act more nervous in my life. "I'm sorry, okay?"

"Bailey, please, I don't —"

"No, you need to hear this. You need to hear me apologize." She shuts me up with a very firm, authoritative tone of her voice. "I failed you, you know. I did all that talking to you during our sessions about how every adult in your life has failed you in some way or another, and look at me… adding myself to the list."

"I don't think you failed me…"

"But I did. I'm the adult in the situation, I'm the one who —"

"I'm not a child, though. I may not be an adult legally, but I'm not a baby who didn't know what she was doing. You're trying to take all the blame here, but I'm not going to let you. It was something we —"

"Yeah, but see, the thing is Quinn, you ARE a child." She sounds like she's mad at me when she says that or something and again, it shuts me up. "In the eyes of the law and as far as I'm concerned, you're a child. And what happened between us should have NEVER happened. Period. I failed as a therapist that day, I acted unprofessionally, and it is my responsibility as the adult in this situation to apologize and let you know that it cannot and will not EVER happen again. I let things get out of control. I let the lines become blurred. I got wrapped up in my feelings. It's on me."

Things are silent between us again and I think it's because we're both thinking. Well, at least I'm thinking, anyway. I know that what happened was bad. I know that it's against so many laws and it's super unethical, and it was really wrong, but… I don't know, I thought it could have been something special, I guess. She's making it seem like it was something that was just strictly wrong and not something that could have ever been right and I don't see it that way. I don't think it's black and white. I think there's gray in there somewhere. I needed someone in that moment and she was there. We both liked each other… it's not something that we should be angry about or ashamed of. I know it can't happen again and I don't want it to happen again. But it did happen and I don't think it was strictly bad. It wasn't good. But it wasn't horrible…

"...I told Rachel." I stop moving the swing so it doesn't creak anymore after I say that. "That we kissed."

Bailey closes her eyes as if she's embarrassed about it. She was probably hoping that I didn't tell anyone and I didn't, aside from Rachel. Nobody else knows and Rachel isn't going to tell anybody. Our secret has never been safer.

"It's okay," I stand up from the swing, but I don't walk over to her. I realize that I was about to go over and put my hand on her shoulder to comfort her and while that is something I would have done before we kissed, it's not something I think I can do anymore. I think this is what she meant when she said the lines were blurred between us. "Rachel's not gonna tell anyone, she wouldn't. I just… I had to tell her so we could… move on, or whatever. She won't tell. I know she won't."

Bailey takes a deep breath then looks up at me again. "...So what'd she say? She mad at you?"

"No," I shake my head. "She was hurt, but. She liked the fact that I was honest. I think we're going to start over, me and her. Things are okay now."

"Are you okay?" She asks that question like she genuinely cares. She's not asking as my therapist, I can tell. She's asking as the woman who kissed me back, the woman who can't deny that something was there between us when our lips met.

"I think I will be." The wind blows again so I put my hands in my coat pocket. "I feel like I'm okay… and I feel like even if there are days when I'm not okay, I will be eventually. I feel okay."

"I'm glad to hear that, Quinn. Really, I am. I'm just happy that you're okay." She half-smiles at me, then looks out into the street at her car. "I'd better go. I just came over to see how you were doing and drop off the plant, so. Yeah."

"I really do like the flowers." I half-smile back. "I think they're perfect."

"I thought you would," she grins one more time and pulls her car keys from her back pocket.

"Wait, Bailey," I tuck my hair behind my ears and bite my lip as I try to work up the nerve to ask her what I want to ask her. I think it's important for me to know. It'll help with my sanity to know… "...Did you like it?"

Her head drops again like she's embarrassed.

"I just…" I nervously hesitate so I can choose my words carefully. "...I'm starting to feel crazy thinking that maybe I just dreamt the whole thing up, you know? Thinking that it was just some… childish fantasy of mine, that I was just crazy and it was all one sided and I dreamt up the way I thought we felt about each other." I hesitate again. "...Am I crazy?"

"No," she shakes her head. "I...I wanted to kiss you too, Quinn. I wanted to kiss you… really bad." She takes one more step toward her car and her face falls because she knows what can't be between us. She knows what we cannot be. "But I did some soul searching and I've decided that your health is more important than anything I'm feeling. So that's a boundary that we can't cross. Ever again."

"...So can I still see you?" She wanted it too… I'm not crazy… there was something electric between us. I know that we can't be together and to be honest, I think I want Bailey as my therapist more than I want her as anything else. And even though it still hurts… I only want Rachel. "I think I still need you. I wanna still see you… if I can."

"...Tuesday. 5:00 at my office. Don't be late."


New Text Message

Wednesday, December 18

4:25 p.m.

SHELBY: Hey you. Feeling any better?

4:28 p.m.

ME: hey! :) yes, feeling much better. still have a sore throat but that's the extent of it. how are you? how's munchkin? i was going to call you sometime this weekend.

4:30 p.m.

SHELBY: Glad to hear it. So happy you are ok. Beth is fine. Two new teeth that are cutting through. Was wondering if you feel ok enough to watch her for a few hrs. If your parents say yes. Have to run a few errands. Will be easier if Beth is not with me.

ME: omg of course! yes yes yes yes!

SHELBY: Ok! Will bring her in about 1 hr? Ok?

ME: yes!

I put my phone down just as Rachel comes back from the bathroom, and I can't contain the smile on my face. I get to see Beth! I get to see my baby! I missed her so much! I was going to ask Shelby if I could have her for a few hours this weekend because I really haven't had the energy to keep up with her lately, but I miss her too much to tell Shelby that, so I'll have her today! And Rachel will be here and so will Mom and Dad and Mercedes if Beth gets to be too much. They'll take her off my hands for a few moments if I need to rest. I get to see Beth!

"So it took me like five years to figure out where you guys keep the extra toilet paper," Rachel says as she plops back down on my bed. "I used the last little bit and I didn't want to be rude by not replacing it so I went on a search in every cabinet."

"You could've just asked," I giggle and fold my legs at the knee so she has her place to sit down. "I could've just told you."

"Yeah, but I didn't want to run the risk of leaving to ask and having someone walk in to no toilet paper. That's so rude." She picks up the same straw we've been working with for the last half hour and spreads the little pieces of paper out on my quilt. "Okay, you ready to go again?"

I take the straw from her hand and sigh. "Are you sure you don't wanna watch a movie or something? I'll order a cheese pizza and Diet Coke and one of those chocolate lava cakes from Pizza Hut and we can just sit here and get fat and stuff."

"You can't even eat pizza, Diet Coke and lava cake." She rolls her eyes. "I'm fine, we need to keep going."

"Yeah, but Rachel…" I sigh again because I feel so horrible. She's been sitting here on my bed with me, doing the swallowing exercises that the doctor told me to do. I just feel like we should be doing more. She seems so content to sit here and watch me suck up pieces of paper with a straw and drop them into a plastic cup. "This isn't the way you should spend your birthday. You shouldn't have to spend it looking after me."

"Quinn, it's a Wednesday and it's a school night," she spreads the pieces of papers out in an even layer. "We can do something this weekend. And besides," she musters up a smile. "This is exactly how I want to spend my birthday. All I wanted for my birthday was for you to forgive me, and look. Forgiveness."

"I couldn't even run out and get you a cake," I mumble. "Some girlfriend I am."

"Oh, so you're my girlfriend again?!" She smiles so big that it's hard for me not to smile too. "This really is my birthday!"

"Don't push it," I nudge her with my foot and laugh. "Shelby's bringing Beth over in a little while."

"Aww, Bethie! I haven't seen her in a while, Shelby's been super busy. I mean, I saw her in passing for like two seconds yesterday, but —"

"In passing?"

"Yeah," she nods. "She dropped my birthday gift off at school because she didn't think she'd have time to give it to me today. She wanted to do it in person and see my face when I opened it and stuff."

"What'd she get you?"

"Broadway tickets. Second row from the stage, Hamilton."

"Hamilton?!"

"Hamilton."

"Second row from the stage?!"

"So close that the actresses will SPIT on me when they sing."

"She has to have paid like a thousand dollars! Do you know how expensive second row Hamilton tickets are?! Believe me, I know! I checked! I was gonna buy them for you for Christmas but I took one look at the prices and thought, 'better luck next time'!" My jaw can't stop dropping. Seriously… Shelby got her Hamilton tickets… that is CRAZY…

"Quinn, I know. I opened the envelope and I almost cried. I told her that I couldn't accept it… those tickets they're… crazy!" She shakes her head like she still can't believe it. "...She got me two of them. And I think she bought them with the idea that I'd take you or Kurt with me, but… I dunno, I kinda want to go with her. This whole thing with my dads, it's… it's kinda making me wish I had a mom. Is that weird?"

"No," I shake my head and put my hand on her kneecap. "You should. Take Shelby, I mean. You should go with her." I didn't consider how much her birthday this year probably sucks, with her dads being separated and all. Damn it, I really wish I would have done something for her. I'm gonna plan something big for this weekend. Something spectacular. She deserves it. "...Any word on when your dad's gonna move back in?"

"Nope," she signs. "I asked my dad last night if they're going to get a divorce and he didn't give me a straight answer. I kinda feel like they are."

"You know it's not your fault, right?" I squeeze her kneecap and make her look at me. She has tears lining the rims of her beautiful brown eyes, but she doesn't let them fall. "When me and Frannie first found out that my dad was cheating on my mom, my first thought was that he didn't love us, you know? I just thought that like… like if me and Frannie were better daughters and my mom was a better wife, he wouldn't want to go out there and find someone else."

"It kinda feels like my fault," she mumbles. "I don't know why, it just does."

"I know the feeling," I comb my fingers through her silky brown hair. "But it's not. They love you, Rach. Adults… they mess their shit up and drag us into it all the time, but. I guess the thing you gotta try and hold onto is that they love you. And your dads do. They love you so much, I've seen it."

"They forgot my birthday…" she whispers. "I'm not that sad about it because I know they're going through something, but…" she sniffs. "Every year on my birthday, my dad makes me pancakes with whipped cream and sprinkles on top for breakfast… he didn't make them this year." She sighs hard and rolls her eyes. "I dunno, I'm probably just being a baby."

"I'll make you pancakes," I put my head on her shoulder and wrap my arm around her waist. "All the pancakes in the world, I'll make them."

She smiles softly. "Extra butter?"

"Yep. The real butter, too. None of that low-fat margarine spread type of shit."

She laughs really hard and really genuine and I forgot that her laugh is my favorite sound in the world. She turns her head slightly to the side so she can press her lips to my temple and I close my eyes to take in the moment. God, I missed this. I missed it just being her and me and feeling like nothing else in the world matters.

"...I really am sorry, Quinn. I can't imagine how it must have felt when you walked in and saw us." She laces her fingers inside mine and interlocks our hands. "You didn't deserve that."

"I forgive you," I squeeze her hand, then bring it up to my mouth for a kiss. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when you were going through this crap with dads."

"You know, I just…" Her voice trails off like she's lost in thought. "I felt like if I loved you the way my dads loved each other, then I could understand it if I kissed someone else too. But the truth is…" she exhales. "The truth is that I try to wreck our relationship because I'm so afraid of loving you all the time. I'm so afraid of loving you and… being gay and… everything. But then you're laying in that hospital bed and I see you dying and… and I'm not afraid anymore. Suddenly, the only thing that scares me is losing you."

"Really?"

"You know my dads came to the hospital?" She says. No… I didn't know that… I must've been unconscious… "The day after you got admitted to Dayton, they came. And they tried to take me home. They barged in there and told me that they knew i was scared and I was worried, but I was grounded for leaving the house and taking the car. They tried to take me home. I screamed. I screamed and I yelled and I kicked and I punched… it felt like they were trying to take me away from you."

.Wow. I didn't know that…

"Eventually Shelby told them that she was staying for a while and that she'd look after me…" she continues. "Shelby even tried to get me to change my clothes, but I wouldn't. I just remember thinking that what I had on was the last thing you touched… when you woke up for a minute and I saw you, before me and Mercedes fought? I touched you. You were on my shirt and on my pants and I couldn't take it off, I couldn't. That was the last thing you touched."

"Rachel…"

"I know we're only seventeen, Quinn. I know. But I really, really, really do love you…"

As soon as I blink, tears come rushing down my cheeks and I have to take a deep breath so that I don't start sobbing hard enough to make my heart work overtime. But I can't help it. She really does love me… she loves me… and I love her too and I know what she means when she says she's scared to love me because I'm scared to love her too and loving her feels wrong because she's a girl but I do love her and while I'm here I can love her as freely as I want to but I won't be here anymore after the court hearing and everything is going to change and all I want to do is love her…

"I'm sorry," I hold her hands and look her deep in the eyes. "For everything, for scaring you, but really… I'm sorry for the way things were. I'm sorry for how I treated you and for the things I did to you… I don't deserve you loving me. Not after the way I treated you. But you love me anyway and I just… am so sorry. I wanna take it all back. You are… the most special person in my world and it makes me sick, okay? It makes me sick to think about the way I treated you. I treated you so bad and now look at my life… you love me and I don't deserve it because I treated you bad and now my life is a wreck and I… I used to think that if I was a better person, all this bad stuff would stop happening to me, but now I'm trying really hard to be a good person and this bad stuff keeps happening to me. It's like it finds me. I'm prone to it. I don't deserve you…"

"Quinn, stop…" She puts her hand over my mouth to shut me up. "I know… okay? Trust me, I know. I… I feel that way too. About not deserving you. And… yeah, you were mean, but it's fine now. I worked through it. It took a lot, but I worked through it and… yeah. Yeah I was afraid to fall for you for a while and yeah, it has a lot to do with why I kept wrecking our relationship, but it's over now. Everything between us… everything that happened prior to this moment? It's over."

"We're starting over?" I sniffle.

"We're starting over." She wipes my tears with her thumb and smiles. "Hi, I'm Rachel Berry." She makes me smile so wide when she says that and holds out her hand for me to shake.

Through my tears and shaking my head at her, I take her hand inside mine and shake it.

"Quinn Fabray," I say. "Nice to meet you."