They fell into a groove, the three of them, so much so that a part of Quinn wished she could never leave. And yet, another part of her was going to go willingly. Two weeks in and she could see that she wasn't meant to be a single mother at sixteen. So, though it was going to hurt her a lot to leave, she knew deep down that Beth was meant to be Shelby's.

And Shelby made that a little easier by being wonderful herself. She was cool, easy to talk to, and had fascinating stories about life in Manhattan and being on Broadway, making ends meet as a waitress at a place called the Spotlight Diner, where tons of aspiring Broadway stars worked.

She and Shelby spent their days focused completely on Beth. They went for walks in the park. They went to see Beth's pediatrician together. Plus, Shelby drove Quinn back to Lima the week after the birth, for her own follow-up visit. (She saw no one that day, though it had been tempting to call Mercedes. She didn't want to take any time away from herself with Beth, so they went straight back to Akron.)

Each day, Quinn felt like she did nothing but eat, pump, and watch TV around the clock. She tried to keep up with homework, mostly just because Artie had gone to the trouble to get it for her. It was probably wise not to put it off, though, since she was only going to have two weeks left in the school year upon her return.

Predictably, her Algebra teacher did not manage to figure out how to scan and email her assignments, but thankfully, Artie took care of that for her. She continued to receive them daily, from Artie's own email address instead.

Coach Tanaka had outright refused to send anything and maintained that Quinn could make up all the work when she returned. He was only going to give her a week to do it in, otherwise she'd forfeit the right to full credit. She was told in an email from that "her little friend in the wheelchair" argued until Coach Tanaka finally agreed not to mark off the late points automatically.

"He said I knew a lot about women's rights," Artie had reported proudly, over the phone, in one of his many calls to check up on her. "I told him that, as a disabled person, I just make it my business to know about human rights. I still don't think he'll think twice about denying me access to the basketballs in the gym, but at least I won this one."

"Artie, you never cease to amaze me," had been her almost tearful response. She was still a hormonal mess, plus she didn't get a lot of uninterrupted sleep these days. She was just glad he couldn't see that she was about to start crying.

"I also heard he's leaving next year," Artie had added, missing the emotion in her voice. "Good riddance. Maybe we'll get someone with an actual heart."

"For a football coach?" she'd laughed at that optimism. "Er, Artie, I doubt it. But dare to dream, right?"

She had the support of her friends back home, and she had Shelby. As for her family, she didn't care if she spoke to or even ever saw her father again. Her mother had sent a few texts. She replied to those, half-heartedly and always giving as little information as possible. She let her mother go on thinking she was still living with Mercedes, not wishing to explain the situation at hand.

And then there was Frannie. When Quinn refused to even text her back, Frannie had picked up the phone and called one day, while Quinn was in the middle of pumping.

The day she called also happened to be the day all her friends were on their way up to Akron, to collect her. It was Saturday, two weeks since she'd given birth, the day that she and Shelby had agreed upon as her last day, provided she could leave enough milk.

Quinn was an overproducer, she'd learned, which was great for someone who exclusively pumped. It also meant that she couldn't easily stop or slow down, even if she wanted to.

Since she wasn't doing anything other than scrolling Facebook, she'd relented and had answered Frannie's call casually, like nothing was wrong.

"Hello?"

"How are you?" asked the stilted voice on the other end.

Quinn paused. "I'm okay. I guess you heard I had the baby. She's fine. She's with her adoptive mother now."

It was true. She just left out the part about being there as well, for now. The less Frannie and her mother knew about it, the better.

"So, do you know where she went?"

"Yes." Quinn left it at that.

"So, that's that? You just gave your baby to a stranger? Do you even know if she's a Christian?"

"Actually, I think she's Jewish."

"Jewish?"

Quinn exhaled loudly. "I'm sorry, Frannie, did you need something?"

There was a long pause on the other end of the line then, and Quinn could tell that Frannie was at least trying to decide whether she really wanted to fight about this or not.

"I just called to tell you I'm pregnant."

Well, that was something she didn't expect to hear, but it was kind of a relief. Maybe, if Frannie had her own baby, she'd stop badgering Quinn about giving hers away and wouldn't care anymore. And it would give her mother something new to focus on.

"Well, that's great," Quinn said, genuinely. "I'm really happy for you. And now Mom can have a grandchild."

Pause, pause, pause. "My baby was supposed to have a cousin already, you know," Frannie nagged. "Now he or she will never know her."

"They might meet," Quinn said, casually. "My name's on the birth certificate. Beth can contact me if she wants to."

"Beth?"

Shit, shit, shit!

"Oh, yeah," Quinn went on, like she meant to do that. "That's her name. Beth. Pretty, isn't it? I liked it. When I heard."

Another long pause. "Well, being pregnant myself now, I still can't imagine how you had a baby and gave her to a stranger. But it's your choice, I suppose. Look, I just called to... to tell you my news. And clear the air."

Quinn swallowed hard. "Well... I'm willing to put that behind me," she said, slowly. "If you're willing not to bring it up anymore. It was hard enough, and I wish I had a family that supported me, but since I didn't, now I'll just settle for a family that will accept me."

Maybe it was Frannie's pregnancy hormones making her this way, but she seemed a little more understanding than that day that she'd ambushed Quinn at school. "I can do that."

"Thanks."

More awkward silence, then: "So, when are you moving back in with Mom?"

Quinn laughed bitterly at that one. "Did she ask you to ask? Right now, it's looking like never. If you want to relay that message back. Probably never. I have plenty of friends who want to help me out."

And they're on their way here now, she thought.

As she said her good-byes with Frannie, not knowing when the next time they would speak would be, she focused instead on the task of sealing up the two full bottles of milk that she was about to go add to the freezer stash now.

"Just bring one of those over, and we'll give her something fresh," Shelby said, as she sat next to Beth, who was not enjoying the "tummy time" by the window. They tried to give her plenty of sunlight and dressed her down to just a diaper, because these were things that the doctor said would prevent jaundice.

Like most newborns, Beth had lost a little weight at first but she was now gaining it back and then some, at a healthy rate. Quinn had to adjust her diet a few times, to make sure that there was nothing in her milk that Beth reacted to badly. For instance, since she'd eaten chicken tacos for lunch, she wrote that on the bag. She hoped she wouldn't have to cut anything more out of her diet. So far, she only avoided dairy, since Beth may have had a reaction to that, they weren't completely sure.

"Are your friends on their way?" Shelby asked, as Quinn watched her give the freshly pumped milk to the baby and smiled at the sight of Beth enjoying what her laborious efforts had produced.

"Yeah, Mercedes is bringing along Tina and Artie and... and Rachel." Quinn bit her lip, watching for Shelby's reaction to the news that her own biological daughter was with the group. "That okay?"

Shelby blinked quickly and gave a hard swallow. "Oh, wow, she is?" Shelby processed this, then began nodding and smiling. "Okay, well, that's wonderful. They're all welcome here. Um, but do you know if they'll want to stay for dinner?"

"I could ask," Quinn started to say, then she remembered something. "Oh, shoot, Artie. Artie's with them, that's the guy on our team in the wheelchair. He can't come up to your apartment, can he? It's on the second floor and you don't have an elevator."

"Oh, right." Shelby bit her lip, giving Quinn an apologetic look. "Nope, I don't, this is a walk-up apartment. I do plan to look for a house soon. Doesn't help us with this situation."

"Well, maybe we could just go out to the park instead," Quinn reasoned. There was a nice park nearby where they'd taken Beth a few times already.

"Good idea." Shelby returned back to her first point then. "I really do want a house for she and I to call our own someday. Something with a nice big backyard, maybe a swing-set for her to play on or a tree house. I just can't decide if Akron is where I want to raise her."

Quinn nodded. She wished she had a vote in this, but logically she knew she didn't. It would really simplify the whole thing if she and Beth could move to Lima, but that would be asking for too much. She only hoped Shelby didn't ever move too far away for her to see Beth periodically.

"At least you have a while before she needs a tree house," Quinn gently pointed out.

"So, how long until your friends are here?" Shelby wanted to know, and Quinn knew why. You had to plan every minute, when a baby was involved. And everything had to be timed perfectly to work with feeding and pumping schedules.

"Soon," Quinn answered. "So, I probably can't pump again before we leave, but since we're going to meet at the park, I'll bring the portable one and plan to pump in the car. I'd better go make sure I have all the parts."

Shelby nodded, as Quinn left to do just that. Once, when they'd been out, she'd left some parts in the dishwasher, which had resulted in them having to hurry home. Sure enough, what she needed was in the dishwasher, but she was wise enough to plan ahead now. As she was packing what she needed, her phone rang.

"I need the address to the apartment," Mercedes said. "We just got to Akron."

"Actually, change of plans," Quinn said. "I just remembered that Shelby's apartment doesn't have the elevator we'd need for Artie. Why don't you guys meet us at a park instead? I'll text you the address."

She could hear Artie's protest in the background. "What? No, don't change any plans for me! I'll wait in the car," he was saying.

"Tell Artie he will do no such thing," Quinn said, firmly. "Beth needs the sunlight to help with her jaundice anyway. And Shelby's place is messy."

"Hey!" That was Shelby, who could hear her from where she was currently occupying the living room with Beth. But she was smiling because it wasn't true at all. Shelby's place was neat as a pin, except for the copious (clean) baby bottles that now littered the area around the kitchen sink.

"I had to say something," Quinn explained to Shelby, when she got off the phone and came back into the living room. "Artie hates it when anyone has to work around his needs. Once, the school wouldn't provide us a handicap bus for Sectionals—"

"Isn't that grounds for a lawsuit?"

"Should be," Quinn affirmed, taking a seat near Beth and Shelby again and smiling as she watched her sleep. She held out a hand for the empty bottle and Shelby passed it to her. "Anyway, we had a bake sale to raise money for it. I know it made him uncomfortable."

"Well, I thought the inclusion of your friend, Artie, on the team was a breath of fresh air," Shelby asserted. "Vocal Adrenaline would never do such a thing." As Quinn opened her mouth to comment, Shelby quickly added, "And not because it's up to me, because it isn't!"

"But you're their coach," Quinn said, her brow furrowing in confusion.

"Of the Carmel High Vocal Adrenaline show choir machine, yes," she said. "But I don't have complete creative control and I don't decide who gets in. That belongs to Dustin Goolsby. He created Vocal Adrenaline before I came to coach. He currently runs a second, similar group called Throat Explosion. They won their Regionals, too, and are favorites for Nationals this year. Dustin may move on from them, if they don't beat us. Apparently, he just travels across the Midwest and creates show choir powerhouses. I'm surprised you haven't heard of him."

"Uh, Rachel's the one that reads those weird show choir blogs, not me," Quinn said, feeling instantly guilty for dissing them when clearly, show choir was life for some people. She excused herself to go wash the bottle.

"We should probably get going," Shelby said, as she lay Beth down on the carpet and began changing her diaper before their outing. "Do you have everything you need packed up?"

Quinn nodded solemnly. Her small suitcase was indeed packed, and when they left to visit with her friends, she would officially be moving out. Of course, she'd be back again soon or else Beth and Shelby would come to her, to get her milk. As long as she kept that going, she could keep seeing her baby.

Shelby's baby.

"I'm going to throw together a picnic for us," she said. "We just went shopping. I think we have plenty of stuff for sandwiches and we have sodas."

"Good idea," Shelby said. "I'll change Beth."

With Beth was changed and the picnic packed, they were ready to go. Shelby loaded Beth into the car seat. She was beginning to fill up more of the seat as she grew, so much that they'd recently removed the small insert headrest meant for newborns. Beth was starting to fill out, with rolls on her arms and legs now, rolls due entirely to Quinn's hard work and dedication.

They loaded up the car with Beth, Beth's diaper bag, the picnic basket, and Quinn's suitcase. In her athletic joggers and double tank tops, plus her nursing bra, Quinn felt like she looked more like her old self than ever. A vain part of her hoped her friends would notice.

And sure enough...

"Holy... crap!" Tina's face said it all, as she climbed out of Mercedes' SUV first. She stared Quinn up and down. "You look awesome. Nobody would ever know you just had a baby! Except for your boobs."

"Tina," Mercedes was the next out, shooting an intense look at the other girl. "Would you please grab Artie's chair out of the trunk? Hiii, Quinn, you do look amazing. Oh, my goodness, look at Beth, she's precious..."

"H-hi Shelby." That was Rachel. Shelby promptly handed the baby carrier to Quinn and went to hug her biological daughter. The pair couldn't have looked more similar, and Quinn found herself wondering if Beth would grow up to be her twin, too.

Artie took longer to get out, of course, but he beamed up at Quinn as he settled himself into his chair and motioned for her to set the baby carrier on his legs so he could look at her. As Quinn did so, Artie looked with interest from the small baby to Quinn's face. "She really does look like you," Artie said. "Lucky girl, she doesn't have a Mohawk afterall..."

"Artie!" Quinn exclaimed, but she laughed. Artie had a way of diffusing these moments.

Shelby set up the stroller then, which was really a fancy base for the car seat. This way, she was able to stroll the baby around without removing her from her seat and disturbing her slumber. As Shelby pushed Beth to a pavilion, Tina did the same thing with Artie's chair. Quinn caught Artie looking at Beth and Shelby, and she could practically read what he was thinking.

Well, if he doesn't like that, why doesn't he say something? she wondered, as she walked alongside Beth's stroller, linking arms with Mercedes as they went.

They enjoyed sandwiches in the sunlight, Rachel dominating the conversation with Shelby, taking advantage of another chance to get to know her mom. This time, Quinn couldn't find it in herself to be annoyed. She imagined Rachel as Beth and herself as Shelby. One day, they might be trying to catch up, too, and Beth might be soaking in every moment she had with her. On the other hand, Beth would grow up with a mom. She wouldn't feel that void, like Rachel had.

"You look like you're a million miles away," Artie commented to her, at one point.

Quinn snapped out of it. "I am," she admitted. Plus another thing, her boobs were beginning to ache. It had been a little more than two hours since her last pumping session. "Um, if you'll excuse me... I've got to take care of something in the car."

"What?" Artie asked.

"Mommy business." Quinn only had to say that, and when it dawned on Artie, he started to turn red and busied himself with eating his sandwich.

She retreated discreetly back to the car to pump, the realization beginning to set in that once she left the park with her friends, it would be at least a week before she'd see Beth again. She'd taken seeing her daily for granted. She fought the urge to cry, because she wasn't going to do that to Shelby. The other woman had done so much for her, and the last thing she wanted to do was saddle her with guilt.

This is a good thing. You're sixteen. You can't raise a baby. You have to go to school, get good grades, go to college. You can't raise a baby now.

It was her mantra as she finished pumping in record time. She hurried back to soak up the remaining time she had with Beth. At last, it was time to leave. There was nothing left to do, except plan the next time they'd meet. It seemed like Rachel had that covered.

"Could I come see your apartment sometime?" Rachel asked, as they packed up. "Maybe I could come one of the times Quinn visits to bring her milk?"

Shelby brightened at this idea. "How about next weekend?"

"Perfect," Rachel said, beaming at Quinn, who was imagining three hours, both ways, in the car with her and struggled to return the gesture.

So, with that settled, it was time to say their good-byes. Everyone else had held Beth briefly, while they'd been eating, but now it was Quinn's turn to hold her one last time, for the entire week. She soaked in the feel of her soft skin, her clean smell, everything. Everyone was staring at her, she knew it, but she closed her eyes and shut them out. She held onto the moment as long as she could.

And finally, it was time to go. It was time to leave Beth for a week, but move away for good and officially sign away those rights. This really felt like the moment when she gave her up.

She held it together until the car door closed. Of course, Rachel Berry was seated next to her, already stealing her thunder and weeping dramatically over Shelby. She cried much more quietly, looking out the opposite window, as Tina comforted Rachel.

"Quinn?" That was Artie, spying her in the rearview from where he sat up front, in the passenger seat. "Are you gonna be okay?"

Quinn just shrugged. "I have to be."