Chapter Two

The final round in the battle for Head Student is the internal debate. It's always been a big event in the Dalton Academy calendar, but the school is especially buzzing with anticipation for this particular one, owing to the behind-the-scenes drama surrounding Quinn and her campaign manager that is no more.

In the buildup to the debate, Quinn doesn't say or do anything to fuel rumours about her ire. She still greets students when they arrive at the dining hall, but it's obvious to anyone who's paying attention that she's grown sullen. There's only so much pretending a girl can do, and she's already used up enough energy getting through the day without actually throwing herself out of her own window.

As expected, Quinn avoids social interaction with Santana or Rachel. Instead, she focuses on her own campaign while maintaining her grades and ensuring she doesn't fall apart. There are only a few weeks left of school, and then she can return to the house in Hartford and attempt to recover from this year.

To her credit, Rachel feels supremely uncomfortable with the circumstances that led to Santana, essentially, joining her campaign, though she's been unwilling to apologise to Quinn or even accept any responsibility for the role she or Brittany may or may not have played in the... end of their friendship. At least, she hopes it's not actually an end, because that would just be sad.

Quinn always looks like she could use a friend.

The debate is held in the Great Hall after classes let out on a Friday afternoon, with the voting scheduled for the following Monday. It's the most well-attended function of the year, and Quinn does her best not to let it affect her. It's just like every other day. She's good at this kind of thing. Even though her parents are... lacking; she's well-versed in what it means to be a Fabray.

She knows how to play the role of politician.

Quinn doesn't enter the Hall until Miss Pillsbury, the teacher responsible for overseeing the event, calls the Hall to attention and introduces the two candidates. Both girls look their best in their uniforms and, even though the general getup is unflattering to their respective figures; it's obvious to all those in attendance that both Quinn and Rachel are dangerously attractive.

The students, however, are here to witness a bloodbath, though Quinn vows to do all she can to avoid it. She can't have it getting back to her parents that she engaged in a verbal battle with a fellow student.

Not that she thinks they'll care.

The debate starts off steadily enough, with both candidates making their opening statements. Rachel wins the coin toss and elects to go first, which Quinn accepts a little too eagerly. Miss Pillsbury, as demure as she is, manages to keep the afternoon rolling smoothly, posing questions to both candidates and allowing them both to explain their plans for the school should they be elected.

It's when she opens the floor to questions that things take a turn. Quinn expects the questions, of course, but she just doesn't expect them to come from Santana.

"Why did you decide to run for Head Student in the first place?"

Quinn stares at her for the longest time, but the Latina remains expressionless. Sensing the consequences of being caught in a lie, Quinn straightens her spine and opens her mouth. "I'll be the first to admit that I didn't initially intend on running at all," she says, her voice even and commanding. "Because Head Student wasn't exactly on my list of things to accomplish this year, for a number of reasons relating to time-management and overextending myself. Regardless of my stance, however, my best friend at the time entered me into the race and managed to convince me I could do this.

"Now, though, I can honestly stand up here and say I'm grateful to her for allowing me this opportunity. I've learned a great deal about myself and many others in this school, and I intend to use how I've grown to make any kind of difference I can, because the games' room definitely needs a new vending machine."

There's a brief moment of silence before the audience both laughs and applauds. There's just something about Quinn - an air of confidence and regality - that gives people pause. It's almost as if she's not made for this Earth, dangerously eloquent and confident that even Rachel is almost sold.

Almost.

The brunette has had a lot of time to evaluate just how she sees Quinn Fabray, and yet the girl still manages to surprise her. She seems like the type to hide herself behind a carefully constructed mask, but Rachel acknowledges that Quinn has a tendency to unleash bursts of uncapped emotion.

The questions go on, allowing each candidate to respond accordingly. Unfortunately for Quinn - or, fortunately, for everyone else - Santana is called upon again, and she just has to ask about the Azimio Adams scandal. Quinn notes that it's almost as if she doesn't want to, but somebody was going to do so eventually.

Like before, Quinn is adamant about telling the truth. As carefully as she can, she sheds light on the entire matter without going into too much detail, assuring the students that she would have done the same thing if she were to have a do-over. It helps assuage her own role in the eventual suspension of Azimio, because several of his friends are convinced it was a witch hunt.

Honestly, they're all neanderthals.

"Look," she says, sounding oddly defeated. "I'm not going to pretend as if I thought Azimio Adams would be the right Head Student for Dalton, but it was never my intention to have it come down to something like this. All I know is I don't want somebody capable of hurting another student that way to have any sort of leadership position in our school. If I wanted to save face myself, then, yes, it may have affected my decision-making, as you've so nicely pointed out, Miss Lopez."

Quinn purses her lips in thought, deciding to keep going. If she shoots herself in the foot; so be it. "I'll also willingly admit that I didn't want to be held responsible for something I surely did not do. I don't think that's out of the realm of what it means to be human. And, whether or not that other student was my opponent or not should not have mattered either, which it surely didn't. What sort of Head Student would I be intending to be if I were to discriminate that way?"

If it's Santana's intention to shine a bad light on Quinn; she's failing miserably.

Once Miss Pillsbury ends the question session, she invites the candidates to make their closing remarks. Rachel's is short and to the point, touching on female empowerment and her intention to focus on the Arts, while Quinn's is a little more vague. She attempts to be non-biased and open, touching on her determination to make school life as easy as she possibly can for each and every student.

It's when she's wrapping up that she flashes a smile for the first time, bringing out what she knows is a weapon. She's Quinn Fabray, future Head Student of Dalton Academy, and she knows how to work it.

Boys will fall at her feet and girls will... be confused.

It's good enough.

She'll take it.

"I'm not going to subject you to some lame, painful and cheesy slogan," she says pointedly, resisting the urge to roll her eyes at Rachel's Everyone Loves a Berry; "so, I'll leave you with this: my name is Quinn Fabray, and I'm running for Head Student. Please vote for me."

The resulting applause is borderline deafening, and Quinn just smiles that smile. Even if nobody is brave enough to call it; they all know. It might be a close race, but there's going to be only one winner.

At the end of proceedings, Quinn descends the stage and walks into a crowd of students. Rachel remains at her podium, pondering the events of the afternoon. She's unsure what she's supposed to feel because there's a part of her that's... drawn to Quinn, even if her latent fight-or-flight senses ping whenever the girl is around.

Rachel's attention turns towards Brittany, who's bouncing towards her, tugging Santana behind her. Their facial expressions are vastly different, and Rachel imagines hers is the perfect blend of Brittany's happy smile and Santana's confused fury.

"That was great," Brittany says, wrapping Rachel in a hug.

Rachel breathes into her shoulder. "Was it?" she grumbles.

"Of course," Brittany says.

Rachel looks over her shoulder at Santana. "Tell me the truth."

Santana shrugs. "Quinn is going to win."

Rachel sighs, pulling herself out of Brittany's embrace. "Britt, do you think you could please grab my back from backstage?"

"Sure," Brittany says, and the bounces away, giving Rachel the opportunity to address Santana without the blonde within hearing range.

"What were you trying to do?" Rachel asks carefully, frowning slightly. "Were you trying to help me or her with your questions?"

Santana stares at her for a moment. "I just asked questions," she innocently says. "How Quinn answered them was up to her."

Rachel presses her lips together. "I don't get you, Santana," she says, shaking her head. "I mean, she's your best friend - maybe even your only friend - and you just... left her, even though nobody even knows why. I mean, did you fight? Did Quinn do something so terrible that makes you think she's unworthy of being Head Student? Is that what this is about? Because, you know, the way you asked those questions; it was as if you knew she would knock them out of the park, which just means that you were trying to help her shine, which is just con - "

"Berry," Santana interrupts. "Jesus Christ, woman, take a breath, would you?"

Despite her indignation, Rachel blushes because, yes, it's been some time since she's rambled for so long. "I know I said I wouldn't ask, but I think I deserve to know why you torpedoed your own friendship to join my campaign."

Santana raises her eyebrows. "Easy there, ego-maniac, this has nothing to do with you... or Quinn, for that matter."

It's when Brittany returns with Rachel's bag that she finally clicks. "Oh," she says, absently taking the bag from the blonde. "Oh."

Brittany doesn't latch onto the conversation, instead moving towards the podium and pretending to give a speech of her own.

Santana just watches Rachel's face, trying to gauge her response. It isn't exactly something she tells everyone. It's still pretty new to her, but she's not going to deny what's right in front of her anymore. If Rachel is going to be the first person to know, then so be it.

Rachel surprises them both by smiling widely. "Oh, that's wonderful," she exclaims.

Santana sputters, clearly surprised. "It is?"

Rachel nods. "Well, of course," she says. "It makes so much more sense now. It's a relief to know you're not just heartless."

Santana feels a pang in her chest, and her eyes automatically seek out a mop of blonde hair in the crowd.

Rachel watches the action curiously, and sighs when realisation hits her. "Quinn doesn't know, does she?" she asks knowingly.

Santana sighs. "No, she doesn't," she confesses, feeling both lighter and uncomfortable with talking to anyone about this. "I'm not entirely sure how I'm supposed to tell her."

"Do you think she won't respond well?" she asks seriously, secretly hoping that Santana answers in a very specific way.

"Honestly, I don't know," she says. "Quinn is... special. It's difficult to gauge anything about her, and I'm the one person she's let in the most."

Rachel nods in understanding. She's got that vibe from the blonde. "Maybe she'll surprise you," she offers gently.

"Oh, I'm sure Quinn Fabray is full of surprises."

Rachel isn't sure what that's supposed to mean, but the two of them both end up searching the crowd for a specific blonde head and, as if she can feel their eyes on her, Quinn turns her head. She furrows her brow when she sees them staring at her.

And then she smiles.

Once the votes are cast, Quinn all but disappears into her bedroom under a mountain of books. She needs to ace all her exams because she acknowledges that getting into a good college isn't going to be a walk in the park.

Of course, also, her parents would never accept anything less than excellent, and Quinn uses that pressure and expectation to keep her going.

Something has to.

Quinn is mainly seen only during class and meal times, greeting every student she comes into contact with - save for a few - with easy smiles and good spirit. Sometimes, she has to force herself, but other times are considerably easier. It helps that she has ways of dealing.

Because, when she's not studying, eating or sleeping, Quinn is either running or cycling. With all the sport seasons having come to an end, she has to find other ways to keep herself occupied, and one of her favourite things about Dalton is the landscape, sporting an abundance of uneven terrain and endless trails. There's even an entire forest on the grounds, though it's considered forbidden. Without supervision, that is, because the cross country route runs right through it.

Once exams begin, finding Quinn on one of those trails is a daily occurrence. It's the only indulgence she allows herself during the two week period. So, while other students relax after a tough exam with a swim or a nap; Quinn changes into her workout clothes and heads out into the wilderness.

On this particular day, after she's just completed her second Biology exam, Quinn decides on a cycle. Part of her believes it's a bit more of a workout, given the almost-interval training involved... particularly when she braves the rocky terrain. She suits up, opting against taking her iPod, and fetches her bicycle from the shed behind the Science Block. She slips on her gloves, clasps her helmet and sets off at a blistering pace, disappearing out of sight.

It's on this trail that she meets Rachel Berry on a run of her own. Everything in Quinn is screaming for her to acknowledge the girl with a nod, and then take off without engaging.

But, alas, Rachel takes that option away from her by speeding up slightly and forcing Quinn to slow until they're moving at the same speed.

Between heavy breaths, Rachel is the first one to speak. "Hey," she says, stumbling over her feet.

"Hey," Quinn returns, slowing even more. She presses her lips together, suddenly thoughtful. Rachel sounds as if she's literally dying. "Have you been running for long?" she finds herself asking.

"Way too long," she answers, and then almost collapses in relief when Quinn actually comes to a stop. Rachel steps back slightly to allow the blonde some space to dismount, her eyes desperately wanting to drop down to the strong, pale thighs on display. She forces her gaze to remain skyward as she catches her breath, hands on her hips.

"Hey, Supergirl," Quinn says, smirking slightly at Rachel's pose. "You okay there?"

Rachel chuckles lightly as she finally looks at Quinn's face. "No," she says seriously. "I haven't really been out running in a while, and I am so unfit."

Quinn just smiles as she retrieves her water bottle from its holder on the bicycle. "Here you go," she says, handing it to Rachel. "Drink up before you pass out."

Rachel shoots her a pretend glare, and then unashamedly downs about half the bottle. "Thank you," she says, handing it back.

Quinn does a quick check of her new supply, grins knowingly, and then returns the bottle to its position. She removes her helmet, absently flattening her hair with her one hand, and hangs it off the handlebars. "You okay to walk?" she asks.

"Sure."

Without prompting, they fall into step beside each other, the bicycle between them. Somehow, Quinn feels more settled with an object between them... because Rachel's running outfit is leaving very little to the imagination, and Quinn is both intrigued by and uncomfortable with her spiralling thoughts.

"I haven't really seen you around lately," Rachel says, breaking their silence.

Quinn glances at her, trying to determine how serious she's being. When her expression is open, Quinn feels herself settle slightly. "Exam time is crazy time," she says. "It's imperative I perform well."

Rachel raises her eyebrows at her phrasing. "Why?"

Quinn makes sure not to look at her. What can she say, anyway? How does one explain the pressures of being a Fabray? "College," she eventually answers, which is at least part of the truth. "It's a very competitive market."

"I don't know much, but I think you're a shoe-in anywhere you choose," she says. "You're a very talented individual, Quinn, and you'll probably end up being Head Student."

There's a sincerity to Rachel's tone that catches Quinn off guard, but she manages to recover quickly. "I think you'll win," she says, wondering how truthful she's being. "I voted for you."

Rachel snorts in disbelief, and then sobers at the look on Quinn's face. She's being serious. "Uh, would you believe me if I told you I voted for you too?"

Quinn chuckles lightly. "No, I really wouldn't."

"Good," she says; "because I kind of voted for me too."

Quinn offers her a small, genuine smile that makes her stomach twist into a knot. She doesn't know if what she's feeling is guilt or something else entirely, but she just knows she won't be able to leave their... relationship where it is without broaching the topic of... Santana.

"I'm sorry," Rachel suddenly says, and Quinn flinches. "I'm sorry about everything that happened with Santana. I didn't mean to - "

"Berry," Quinn says, cutting her off. Her face has lost all its softness, replaced by something cold, and Rachel almost regrets bringing it up at all. "Don't worry about it," she says carefully. "I'm used to it, okay, so I really don't need you to apologise to me. None of this is on you, anyway. It's definitely not your fault the one person who was supposed to have my back ended up stabbing me in it."

Rachel's mouth snaps shut in surprise. There is no hint of bitterness or anger in her tone, which throws her. It's almost as if she's accepted what she believes was inevitable, and Rachel's heart hurts.

"No," Rachel finds herself saying.

Quinn arches an eyebrow, and curse her if Rachel doesn't find that insanely appealing. "No?"

"You're going to let me apologise," she says, surprising herself with how serious she sounds. "It's not supposed to be this way, you know? Everyone is supposed to have someone they can count on, Quinn."

Quinn resists the urge to laugh humourlessly. She's been counting on herself her entire life. "And, who is it that you count on, Miss Berry?" she asks, her tone bordering on salacious.

Rachel takes a moment to compose herself. "Well, here, I suppose I have Brittany, mainly," she says. "I'm still trying to figure out this whole making new friends thing."

"Oh?"

Rachel traps her bottom lip between her teeth. "I'm not very good at it, you see, and all the stuff that happened to get me here definitely hasn't helped."

Quinn nods in understanding, though she says nothing. If she can help it; the two of them will never discuss the contents of those stupid yellow flyers. Ever.

"I also have my family," Rachel says. "They're very involved in my life," she adds with a roll of her eyes, and Quinn feels a pang in her chest. She can only wish her parents paid enough attention to her to know what her favourite colour is.

Clearing her throat, Quinn steers them in a different direction. "So, before you got to Dalton; did you used to run a lot?"

Rachel's eyes darken slightly, but she shakes it off. "Sort of," she admits. "Usually, only if I was stressed, lazy or had too big a lunch. Just, whenever, really. I didn't have a set schedule for my runs."

Quinn glances at her, noting that she added the 'for my runs' for a specific reason, though Quinn isn't going to question her about it. It helps that Rachel freely gives extra information.

"While I was still living at home, I used to spend an hour on my elliptical every morning," she says. "I can't exactly do that here."

"Have you found it difficult to get used to boarding school?" Quinn asks, oddly curious. It was interesting for her when she first arrived, watching as other students suffered from homesickness. She never felt any of that, which was possibly owed to the fact that she's been in boarding school since she was seven years old.

Dalton Academy is just another stop on the Quinn Fabray school tour.

"Sort of," Rachel admits. "I mean, I miss my family and I miss my bed, but things were rather awful near the end there. I had to leave, and I guess this place isn't so bad."

"No, I suppose it's not," Quinn agrees. There are worse places to be. Clearing her throat again, she switches topics once more. "I don't particularly enjoy running this trail," she says. "It's more fun to ride it."

Rachel looks at her, clearly skeptical.

"Have you ever tried it?" she asks.

"With what bike, exactly?" Rachel questions, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

Quinn ignores her, and immediately stops walking. "You haven't lived, Rachel Berry."

She rolls her eyes.

Quinn isn't perturbed. "Tell you what," she says; "you're going to ride back down to school. How does that sound?"

"Are you serious?"

"Deathly," she says. "When I say you haven't lived, I mean it." Without prompting, Quinn lowers the seat on the bicycle, carefully adjusts the gears and holds out the helmet for her.

"Quinn," she says, shaking her head; "I don't think this is a good idea."

"Why now?"

"It's bound to end terribly."

Quinn just grins at her, oddly excited about being able to share this experience with her. "That's all part of the adventure," she says, handing her the helmet again. "Just try it, okay? You can tell me how much fun you didn't have when we get back to school."

Grumbling under her breath, Rachel takes the helmet but doesn't put it on.

Quinn arches that same, dangerous eyebrow. "You know how the trail goes, right?" At her nod, Quinn feels obligated to ask: "you do know how to ride a bike, right?"

Rachel shoots her a heated look, and Quinn laughs gloriously. It's probably the first time Rachel has heard her laugh like that and, coupled with that spark in her hazel eyes; she's probably the prettiest girl the brunette has ever met. It's what prompts her to slip on the helmet, clipping it in place.

Quinn's smile practically grows at the sight. "You look ridiculous," she says. "I wish I had my phone to snap a picture."

Rachel's brow furrows. "You don't have your phone?"

Quinn shakes her head no. "Is that a problem?"

Rachel nods vigorously. "Gosh, Quinn, what if something were to happen to you out here? How would you call for help, and how would we even find you?"

Again with that eyebrow. "I'm a very careful person, Berry," she says. "And, what are you going to be doing looking for me?"

Rachel does her best not to blush, even though she swears there's a flirtatious lilt to Quinn's tone. "Careful, you say?" she says instead. "Where does downhill domination fall under 'careful?'" she asks, gesturing at the downslope before them.

Quinn merely shrugs. "You'll thank me later," she says. "Hop on."

Rachel sucks in one last deep breath before mounting the bicycle, Quinn's one hand on her back to help keep her steady, even though she's perfectly capable of balancing herself.

"I'll run just behind you," Quinn says. "And, you know, be careful, okay? I don't want people to think I tried to eliminate more of the competition."

Rachel laughs out loud, her eyes meeting Quinn's. It's just for a moment, but it's enough for her to know she's in so much trouble.

"If you feel as if you're going to tumble, just shout," Quinn says.

"Wait. What? What would you even do?"

"Stop you," she answers, as if it's the simplest thing imaginable.

Rachel chooses not to dwell on it, rather opting for some banter. "You reckon you can keep up with me?"

Quinn chuckles lowly. "Oh, dear, I would smoke you if this were a competition."

There's something about the term of endearment that catches Rachel off guard, and her face splits into a wide smile. "One day, then."

"Sure," Quinn answers easily, as she steps back and bends to retie the laces on her left shoe. It offers Rachel a view for which she's entirely not prepared, and she forces herself to look away, in case she ends up making a sound she'll regret or, worse, passing out.

It also doesn't help any when Quinn straightens and stretches her arms in the air, revealing a sliver of skin at her midriff.

Jesus.

Quinn pats the top of the helmet. "There's a pretty nasty curve near the end of the trail," she casually says; "so, you're going to have to come to stop before then, or you're probably going to end up in a ditch."

"That easy, huh?"

"It's all part of the fun."

Rachel rolls her eyes once more, and then begins to pedal. It's a relatively slow start but, once she gets the hang of it, she barely has to use her legs at all. Quinn recognises the moment she starts to enjoy it from the excited shriek she lets out when she gets a little airborne. It's actually rather spectacular for her to witness the unbridled glee on Rachel's face with every second of their descent... which, she realises belatedly, is too fast.

Rachel realises it too, and the end of the trail is quickly approaching.

Cue the panic.

"Quinn!" Rachel screeches. "Quinn!"

"It's okay," Quinn says, as calm as ever as she too speeds up to run beside the racing bicycle. "Just stay calm, all right? You have to squeeze the brakes steadily, so you slow down gradually." She's forced to leap over a log, and she stumbles slightly. "Easy!" she yells. "Don't brake too hard!" The last thing either of them want is Rachel flying through the air.

"Quinn!"

Sensing panic of epic proportions, Quinn starts running faster, in order to move into Rachel's line of sight. "Listen to me," she says; "you have to be the one to brake. I can't do it for you without messing with your equilibrium." It would probably result in both of them ending up with broken bones, for all she knows.

But.

"Brake, Rachel," she shouts. "You have to slow down! You're going too fast! Rachel! Dammit, brake!"

Making the decision - which, in hindsight, was completely stupid - Quinn sprints to the end of the trail, at the sharp turn, and stops running. She spins to face Rachel, the deep ditch just behind her, and just stands there.

Rachel realises she's going to ride straight into her far too late. "Quinn!" she shrieks. "Get out of the way!"

There's a moment of absolute stillness, during which their gazes meet. There's determination in Quinn's eyes, and terror in Rachel's, but the brunette has never felt so... safe in her entire life. Quinn is safety. She won't let Rachel get hurt, and the absurdity of that sudden realisation isn't lost on Rachel.

When the world comes rushing back, Rachel screams. Quinn holds out her arms as if she can somehow telepathically stop the bicycle, which is just ridiculous. "Quinn, no," Rachel yells, squeezing her eyes tightly shut, and doing the same with the brakes.

She squeezes as hard as she possibly can and, as predicted, the brakes engage the front wheel only, and Rachel goes flying forwards, slamming right into Quinn and sending them both tumbling down the deep ditch.

It's a while before Quinn's world stops spinning.

Her chest is on fire, but she's reasonably sure nothing is actually broken because she knows what that feels like.

Rachel also comes to the conclusion that she's still - relatively - whole, and forces herself to sit up and remove the helmet. She's covered in dirt, scrapes and bruises but, other than that, she's fine. One look to her right at Quinn's still body has her scrambling across the dirt towards the other girl.

"Quinn," she says, touching her arm and moving into her line of sight. "Hey, Quinn, open your eyes."

Quinn does as instructed, squinting into the sunlight. Her eyes focus on Rachel's face... and then on her hair. "You look terrible," she says.

"Oh, my God," Rachel huffs, rolling away and collapsing onto her back. The two of them just lie there, looking up at the clouds in the blue sky.

Slowly, they both begin to laugh, uncontrollably and hysterically.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Rachel finally asks between giggles.

"Woman, why couldn't you just brake?" Quinn counters, her knees in the air.

They both laugh until they can't anymore, and Quinn is the first to rise to her feet, absently dusting off her body and clothing. Without prompting, she holds out her hands to help Rachel get up as well, and the contact is almost too much for either of them to bear. What is happening?

Rachel manages to recover first. "They're going to think we really did battle out here," she says, unable to resist smirking.

"From the look of things, I definitely won," Quinn returns with a grin of her own. "But, I can honestly say I feel much worse than you do." With that, she clambers up the side of the ditch, doing her best to ignore the ache in her body. She supposes having an entire human girl slam into you at that speed is bound to leave a lasting impression. She just hopes she doesn't end up bruising in visible places.

Quinn recovers the bicycle, checking it for damage, while Rachel makes the ascent herself, huffing as she removes fallen leaves from her hair. It's ridiculously adorable.

When they're both on solid ground, they begin the painful walk back to school.

"Are you going to go to the Nurse?" Rachel asks.

"Probably not," Quinn answers with a shrug. "It'll take too long."

She frowns in response.

"I have a Calculus exam tomorrow," Quinn explains. "I can't afford to waste time."

Every molecule in her body is screaming for Rachel to say something about that, but she just manages to hold her tongue. She doesn't have the right to question Quinn and makes demands of her. "Okay," she relents; "but, if you're feeling terrible later; please get checked out. I won't be held responsible for any internal injuries you may or may not suffer."

"So noted," Quinn says with a nod. Then: "You should probably head there yourself, though. That looks like a pretty nasty cut on your arm."

Rachel glances down at said cut and grimaces. "Well... this'll be a story to tell."

They exchange a significant and telling look.

"You're right," Rachel says after their silent conversation. "Let's never speak of this again."

"Deal."

When they're near the dormitory building, Quinn slows her pace considerably. "I have to return to bike to the shed," she says. "I'll see you later."

Rachel waits only a beat before she calls her back. "Quinn?"

"Yeah?"

"Umm, I just - uh - I wanted to say thank you for, umm, basically saving me from possible broken bones."

Quinn chuckles lightly, choosing not to comment on how awkward the other girl is acting. "It was exhilarating, wasn't it?"

"Oh, gosh, you have no idea."

Quinn's returning smile says that she really does.

The two candidates don't come into contact again as the exams proceed. It's expected that the entire campus turns into a ghost town, with all the students cooped up in their bedrooms in an attempt to cram their work as best they can.

Rachel's last exam is World Geography, and the amount she has to memorise almost drives her to drink. It helps that her roommate is also in that class, and the two of them end up turning their shared room into practically a shrine to the planet Earth.

Quinn's final exam is her second paper for World History, which is probably her most hated exam. It isn't that she doesn't find the subject interesting or highly enriching; it's that she's never really been able to gauge how well she's done just from writing the exam. It's similar to English that way, as it leaves things open to interpretation.

While every other student celebrates the end of exams, Quinn doesn't. She's almost sad the year is over, which means they're three days away from summer and three days away from going home.

Well, she wouldn't go so far as to call it home. It's just a house in which she lives for a select few months of the year. She's sure that, if it were allowed, Quinn would actually spend the entire year away at boarding school.

Her parents would probably love the opportunity to pretend they have any offspring all year round.

Quinn suspects she's probably the only person at Dalton Academy who isn't remotely excited about the upcoming summer vacation... except for Jacob Ben Israel, probably, who is supposed to spend the next few months looking after his sickly grandmother in Ohio.

Still, Quinn thinks she would prefer that, because at least she would be wanted somewhere. That way, she wouldn't have to face the heartache of what is, essentially, physical resentment. It's self-diagnosed, of course, because she doesn't really have anyone to talk to about it. She doesn't trust anyone enough to let them in that far and, after her experience with Santana, she's definitely not going to make that mistake again.

It's okay.

She's okay.

At some point, she's going to have to stop pretending, but today isn't that day.

But, gosh, Quinn can even feel it in her bones... even from so far away.

She feels it everywhere.

On the last day of school, hours before the school's final assembly, Quinn is still packing. She's really extending her stance on not-wanting-to-leave to its very limit. She's contemplated weaselling some way to stay behind, but even she knows that's futile. The grownup in her acknowledges how ridiculous she's acting, but the little kid deep inside is refusing to give up on hope.

Eventually, with time running out, Quinn has to concede to the inevitable and sets her mind to completing the painful task of packing up her entire room. She'll be moving into a new one when she returns in the Fall, as all the seniors live on the fourth floor of the residential building, each of them in his or her own room.

Quinn packs two boxes of items she isn't taking home and will be staying in one of the school's storage rooms. Everything else of hers fits into two suitcases, a tog bag and a backpack. That's the entirety of her life, and it's actually rather sad if she allows herself to think about it, so she doesn't.

By the time she's finished, her room looks empty and devoid of life, which does wonders for her spiralling mood. Breathing a sigh, she leaves the room and goes walkabout. She's never been very friendly with the other students in her year, but the campaign has really helped her build bridges. As a result, she waves into numerous open doors, casually converses with some students about their summer plans and even helps zip up some suitcases.

She climbs to the fourth floor to bid farewell to some of the older students she's come to know. Today is their last day at Dalton, and Quinn can't figure out if she envies or pities them. It's probably a bit of both. Some of the girls are deeply emotional and Quinn offers up her shoulder for a good sob to a few of them. She can't help thinking what it's going to be like for her one year from now. She can't imagine there will be tears.

Well, really, she's more concerned with actually surviving until then.

Despite her slow start, Quinn's morning flies past. All around her, the corridors grow more chaotic as students rush through finalising their packing. They're all expected in their homerooms at ten thirty, where they'll be led to the Great Hall by this year's batch of prefects for the last time. Come the new year, an entire new set of prefects will be ruling the school... of which Quinn is already a part.

It's generally expected that the new Head Student is pulled from the group of incoming prefects, though Rachel isn't actually a prefect. If she were to be elected, no new prefect would have to be chosen. But, if Quinn were elected as Head Student, another prefect would be appointed to fill her vacated space in the ranks.

Essentially, regardless of which way the election goes, Quinn is probably going to end up working with Rachel Berry in some capacity.

At exactly eleven o'clock, Quinn finds herself being led into the Great Hall for the final time of the school year. She's apprehensive and nervous, a little antsy and fidgety. She knows this final assembly is going to last at least two hours, and she can't decide whether she wants it to go slowly or fly past.

"Quinn?"

The blonde spins on the spot to spy Rachel standing just behind her, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth. "Hey," Quinn says, burying her hands in the pockets of her grey blazer. If the assembly goes the way she expects it to, Quinn will be sporting a blue Academic blazer in the new school year.

"I just wanted to wish you luck," Rachel says, smiling softly.

Quinn can't help her smile. "Do you think I'll need it?"

"Everybody needs a little luck once in a while," she says, sounding more serious than Quinn's teasing requires.

The smile slips off Quinn's face. "I suppose they do," she agrees. "Thank you, Berry, and good luck to you too."

"Oh, I definitely don't need it."

Quinn just chuckles, absently shaking her head. "You're a special one, aren't you?"

Rachel eyes her for the longest time, scrutinising in an endearing way. "You don't know anything about me, do you?" she eventually asks, her tone conversational.

Quinn quirks her eyebrow. "No, I don't suppose I do," she says. "Is there anything particularly pressing I need to know?"

"Oh, there's plenty."

Before Quinn can even read into that, Mr Schuester is calling for their attention and both girls shuffle along to their seats. Once they're all settled, Mr Schuester invites them to sing the national anthem before he dives into the financial report.

Definitely fly past.

Definitely.

Next, they move onto the farewells to departing staff, and Quinn tries to pay attention. It's just that she can feel eyes on her and it's deeply unsettling.

When the awards begin - academic, sport and cultural - Quinn almost wishes the ground could open and swallow her up whole. As the leading student in all subjects in the junior year, Quinn ends up making an endless number of trips to the stage to receive her certificates and trophies. She's almost embarrassed by the number of times Mr Schuester has to say the name Quinn Fabray, though she hopes he'll be saying one more, very important time.

Rachel's eyes rarely drift away from Quinn as the assembly progresses. As much as she tries to pay attention to their Headmaster, she can't help it when her gaze flicks back to the blonde every few minutes - or seconds? Even before the awards begin, there's something deeply melancholy about Quinn that Rachel can't seem to put her finger on.

It only gets worse every time Quinn has to make her way to the stage. Rachel doesn't understand it. The girl should be proud of her accomplishments. Anyone would. Her family has to be delighted. Quinn practically wipes the floor with their entire grade, raking in every academic award on offer.

After, there's another round of pointless speeches before Mr Schuester calls the year's current Head Student, Jamie Rodgers, to join him up front. It's a Dalton tradition for the leaving Head Student to pass on the distinguished badge to the Headmaster, who then does the honours of clipping it onto the lapel of the incoming Head Student's blazer. It's a little corny, but Dalton Academy is all about tradition.

When Mr Schuester removes an envelope from a folder on the podium, Quinn involuntarily holds her breath and Rachel squeezes the life out of Brittany's hand.

"And, now, the moment I'm sure you've all been waiting for," Mr Schuester says, smirking slightly. "This has been one of the closest elections we've had in recent years, and I am now pleased to inform you that the new Head Student of Dalton Academy is..."

He pauses for dramatic effect, and Rachel contemplates whether the man would appreciate having a shoe thrown at him.

"Quinn Fabray."