Chapter Thirty-Two
"Is that Rachel again?"
Kurt looks up from his phone when Quinn approaches, her expression only slightly amused behind her slight apprehension. She's wrapped up quite tightly, a woollen beanie on her head, and, if Kurt didn't know she was Quinn, he probably wouldn't recognise her.
Which is the whole point, he supposes.
"I swear she's texted fifteen times, and we've been here for only half an hour," Kurt tells her. "I mean, I understand, but this is a little excessive, isn't it?"
Quinn doesn't agree, nor does she dispute his observation. "I'm going to pick up a new phone today," she says. "Hopefully, having direct contact with me will help."
"Is that a good idea?" Kurt asks, his own anxiety flaring.
Quinn glances at him, a slight crease in her brow. "I have to get a phone at some point, Kurt," she says. "I may as well get it now."
"But - "
"I'll get a different number," she assures him. "And, only the very, very important people in my life will get it."
Kurt doesn't move, hands frozen in front of him. "Am I one of those people?" he asks.
This time, Quinn full-on frowns. "Of course, Kurt," she says, meeting his gaze. "You're my closest friend."
"Am I?"
Quinn hesitates. "I mean, yes," she says. "Rachel is - well, she's my girlfriend, and I know people claim the best relationships are built on friendships, but I don't think she and I were ever that good at it."
"This isn't about Rachel," Kurt says, and he still hasn't moved.
Quinn's body turns to face him properly, hearing something very specific in his tone. "Then, what is it about?"
Kurt opens his mouth, but immediately closes it again. He looks uncertain, and Quinn realises this probably isn't the time and place for whatever conversation they need to have.
"Hold onto that, then," Quinn tells him. "Let's finish up here, and then we can talk, okay?"
Kurt just nods, and then follows Quinn through the mall, closely watching her every movement. He can't keep his eyes off her: her mouth as she speaks, her fingers as she points, and her restless eyebrows as she peruses all the various flowers on offer.
He watches as she doesn't pick any of the predicted flowers, choosing rather to splurge as she's wont to do when it comes to Rachel Berry. There are a lot of gardenias, and quite a few tiger lilies, and he imagines those both mean something specific for the two girls. Seeing it all, he has to admit to himself there's a part of him that envies what they share.
Before, he never could quite figure out why Quinn wanted him to take a chance on Blaine when she didn't seem to be pursuing anything romantic herself. Then she told him about their relationship, and so many things started to make sense.
Now, though, it feels as if nothing makes sense.
Including the reason Quinn could possibly need that many candles. She just grins at him when he asks, and then moves on to find the most expensive chocolates she could possibly find. His own eyes bug out of his head at the price, but Quinn barely blinks, and he can't quite figure what's happened to this person who's supposed to be his best friend.
It's after they've completed everything on her list and picked up the few things he needs for when he works up the courage to talk to Blaine about, well, his feelings - good God - that they step into a small cafe to get some coffee. Kurt treats himself to a brownie, and Quinn doesn't.
They find a table in the corner, settle into their seats, and promptly let things get awkward. Quinn isn't blind to the way Kurt struggles to look at her, but she's also aware enough to know a lot of his emotions on the subject are directed at himself, and not her.
Quinn clears her throat and asks, "Have you decided how you're going to tell Blaine?"
Kurt blinks, and then asks, "Did I not do enough?"
"What?"
"When you told me," he says; "did I not assure you enough I was here for you, and that everything would be okay?"
Quinn just stares at him. "That's not - " she starts, and then stops. "That's - Kurt."
He's aware he looks as helpless as she does, but he's powerless in this moment. "Quinn."
She takes a deep, steadying breath. "I don't know what you need to hear," she says.
"I don't know what I need to hear, either," he returns. "Just tell me something."
Quinn should be prepared. She asked Kurt to accompany her, knowing they would need to talk about this, but she doesn't seem to have the right words. "I wasn't thinking about you," Quinn eventually says. "I wasn't even thinking about Rachel. I was thinking about nothing, because I couldn't think about anything." She shakes her head. "I didn't wake up that morning knowing what was going to happen; I didn't know what I was going to do until I just did."
"Then, why did you?"
Isn't that the question? If she can't even explain it to Rachel or Dr Holliday; how is she supposed to explain it to Kurt?
"We're here," Kurt says. "I'm here. I just - I want to understand. I want to know what more I can do."
Quinn closes her eyes, her heart breaking and not for the first time in as many days - weeks, months, years. "It is not your fault," she says slowly. "You are in no way responsible for what I did."
"Then, who is?" he presses, and Quinn can't answer that either.
The only person she could blame is herself, because she's just created more hurt and chaos, all in a selfish attempt to end her own pain. The sudden, inexplicable, blinding pain of hearing -
"Quinn?"
She meets his gaze. "You should just tell him," she says. "Blaine. You should just sit him down, look right into his eyes, and tell him. Because, if there's anything I've learned from this whole thing, it's that life is short, and you have to love the people you want to; and love them the way you'd want to be loved." She looks away for a moment. "Take it from me, who almost lost everything, Kurt. I'm not going to be making that mistake again. I'm planning on staying, no matter what else the world sends my way."
"How can you say that and mean it?" he asks, and he sounds desperate for an answer.
"Because, of all the terrible, awful things to happen to me in my short life," Quinn says; "I can't think of anything that could be worse."
Kurt's expression falters. "Quinn," he says, and he sounds almost morbidly amused. "I know I said I didn't know what I wanted to hear, but that definitely isn't it."
Quinn risks a smile. "It's done, Kurt," she says. "They can't hurt me anymore."
Kurt isn't sure even she believes her own words.
Rachel can hold onto her rage for only so long. What's worse is that it isn't even rage. It's anxiety and worry and a crippling fear that she's just never going to see Quinn again.
It helps very little that Kurt texts her every few minutes with an update on Quinn. Sometimes, he just sends a quick snapshot of the blonde, and Rachel wants it to be enough, but her hands twitch with her desire to lay her hands on her girlfriend.
It makes for a very tense session with Holly.
Rachel won't admit to feeling slightly betrayed by the older woman. She wasn't given any warning or any time to prepare for this afternoon's absence of Quinn. It makes her skin crawl, and the absolute last thing she wants to do is talk about it.
Hence, the tension.
Rachel keeps her gaze locked on her phone, refusing to engage in any kind of conversation. If she's being honest, she didn't expect it to hit her this hard, being so far away from Quinn. And they aren't even that far right now. Not like they're going to be after graduation. Quinn is just in the city, probably already on her way back, and Rachel hates how much she hates it.
"Rachel," Holly tries. "This is necessary."
"Doesn't mean I have to like it," she says, curt.
"She's with Kurt," Holly points out. "I think the two of them needed some space to talk."
"Are you saying I don't give her space?" Rachel suddenly asks.
Holly doesn't even bother to respond, because they both already know the answer to that question.
Rachel sighs heavily. "I can't seem to relax," she admits. "She has something planned for tonight, apparently, and I - I almost wanted to say no when she told me to be ready at seven."
"Why?"
"Because I'm still kind of mad at her, and I don't want her to romance me with all her sappy declarations and pretty eyes." She shakes her head. "And I definitely don't need to hear her say words she thinks I need to hear."
"Don't you need to hear them?"
"Not when she doesn't mean them."
"What makes you think she wouldn't mean them?"
Rachel opens her mouth to respond, and then promptly snaps it shut.
Holly waits, thankful for her ever-enduring patience.
"Quinn does this thing," Rachel eventually says; "when she's talking about things that she forces not to affect her. The topics I know should be more difficult to talk about, if she saw them that way. This is one of those things."
"What do you mean?"
Rachel clears her throat. "When we first discussed her journey to realising her sexuality, she talked about it as if it happened to someone else. Same with the abuse, you know? Like, it wasn't her, and I - the same thing happens when I bring up the suicide attempt." She blinks. "She's good at this type of dissociative compartmentalisation, and it is terrifying."
"And, you think the way she's responding to you is something like that?"
Here, Rachel shrugs. "I guess we'll see what happens tonight."
As requested, Rachel is ready to go at exactly seven o'clock. Brittany comes to her room to help her - also called forcing her to - get her act together and put on something decent.
Decent is a long, deep red dress that she's worn only once before. If she's honest, she's not even sure why she has it here, at Dalton, but she's relieved to find it in the back of her closet. Brittany does her hair for her, something of an intricate braid that she quietly hopes Quinn will release from its confines by the end of the night.
It's the only wish she has for the evening, but even she should know Quinn has always been about exceeding all expectations.
There's a knock on her door at exactly seven o'clock, and Rachel opens the door to find Quinn Fabray, looking deliciously handsome in a women's suit Rachel has never seen before.
Her jaw doesn't drop, but it does come close.
"Good evening," Quinn says, a tinge of nervousness in her voice, and Rachel melts a little. She doesn't want to be angry at Quinn - especially not tonight - so she forces that all aside and pulls Quinn into a hug that lasts long enough that Rachel's sure she could just fall asleep standing here.
But, then, Quinn releases her and says, "We have places to be, my love," and then they're on their way.
Quinn's hand is warm in hers as they walk, passing by other couples and various younger students who look a little in awe at the two head students both dressed to the nines. Quinn waves at times, but her attention is focused mainly on Rachel, who is trying in vain to get Quinn to tell her where they're going.
Quinn remains evasive, but Rachel figures out they're going to the Great Hall eventually, and her mind swirls with all the possibilities. And relief, if she's being honest, because she definitely didn't want to leave campus tonight.
When they're close enough to the Hall, Quinn says, "I had to call in quite a few favours to get this all done in time," as her left hand releases Rachel's. She moves ahead, her hands reaching up to push open the double-doors of the Great Hall to reveal what she's spent all afternoon working on.
Now, Rachel has been on some truly magical dates - all of them with Quinn - but nothing could quite prepare her for the sight before.
It is magic.
"Quinn," she whispers in disbelief.
Quinn is smiling at her, watching her facial expressions as she shuffles through all the motions possible. She expects tears, and she's not surprised when Rachel's eyes fill from the strength of her feelings in this moment.
The Great Hall's floor is cleared of all furniture except for a single round table and two chairs, set for dinner, right in the centre of the room. Just that would be enough, really, if the floor wasn't littered with almost a hundred candles, burning within brown paper bags, and bouquets of flowers dotting the area. There's a clear passage leading directly to the table lined with rose petals, the overhead lights dimmed to nearly nothing, and the softest music playing in the background.
It's perfect.
Quinn nibbles on her bottom lip. "Do you like it?" she asks, because she needs to know.
Rachel glances at her. "That's a silly question, Quinn," she says.
"Answer it anyway."
"I love it," she confirms, and Quinn breathes a sigh of relief as if she were actually worried. Such a silly, silly girl. "You've spoilt me way too much," she says. "I don't deserve all of this."
Quinn moves towards her immediately, standing close enough to touch. "Baby, no," she says, and her hands reach up to hold Rachel's face in her hands. "You, out of everyone, deserve the world, and I would give it to you if I could." She breathes out. "But I'm just a girl, who's in love with another girl, and all I want to do is let you know that you mean everything to me, and I'm not going anywhere, okay? I'm staying right here, with you, for forever."
Rachel had something of a handle on her tears right until this moment, but now they erupt without her consent as she throws her arms around Quinn's neck and holds her tight enough that she's sure it hurts. Her crying turns into laughter, which turns into more crying, but Quinn just holds her and lets it all come out until - she hopes, at least - she's all cried out.
"Okay?" Quinn asks when she pulls back. "We're supposed to be enjoying this evening."
"Oh, didn't you know I enjoy a good cry once in a while?"
"I've taken note of it," Quinn humours her, sliding both her hands into Rachel's and leading her into the Hall. "We're going to indulge in some good food, and then you can pick some sappy romantic movie if you want, or we can talk and maybe dance, but we're definitely snuggling.
Rachel squeezes her fingers, heart warming in her chest. "That sounds perfect."
And, for the most part, it is.
Quinn has always been an attentive date, and tonight is no different. There are a few instances of awkwardness as they stray too close to things they haven't really been able to talk about, but they're okay.
They're going to be okay.
And Rachel merely proves it when she opts out of a romantic movie and rather goes for something of a horror called Stay Alive. It was an option on Quinn's list of movies, and she's keen for something that's not going to make her start crying again.
"Oh, I get it now," Rachel says, barely a few minutes into the movie. She has Quinn's arms wrapped around her as they lie together on a blanket on the Hall's stage, the large projector displaying the movie on the white wall behind the back curtain. "Why you have this movie, I mean, when you obviously don't even enjoy horror movies."
Quinn laughs, breath warm against Rachel's neck. "Why, then?"
"Two words, Quinn," Rachel says. "Sophia. Bush."
Quinn laughs as if it catches her by surprise, the sound music to Rachel's ears. "Well," she says with a hum, nuzzling against Rachel's cheek. "I do have a thing for brunettes, don't I?"
Rachel traces her fingers over the bones of Quinn's hand wrapped around her waist. "Does this mean I have to worry about you and Marley?" she questions, only slightly serious.
Quinn just laughs again, eyes bright. "She just wants some advice," she says. "She's planning on running for Head Student."
Rachel exaggerates a gasp. "Why didn't she come to me?"
"Baby, I don't know if you forgot this, but you actually lost," Quinn points out.
Rachel turns her body enough to look right into Quinn's eyes. "Then, why do I feel as if I won?"
Quinn's smile is gentle and blinding, and Rachel loves her more than the Earth itself. "I love you," she says, and it feels as if these words, said this way and at this time, mean something.
"I love you, too," Rachel says, because she does.
She really, really does.
The last thing Rachel expected when she came to Dalton was to find her forever love. She definitely didn't expect that person to be a girl, or even for said girl to reciprocate her feelings. In so many ways, they've been lucky, but so unlucky in many others. She's not deluded enough to think they've overcome all the world has thrown at them - they're not even close - but they have this moment and they have each other, and Rachel would answer yes to any question Quinn asked.
Quinn breathes out slowly, and then says, "I'm sorry." It's for a lot of things, but she needs Rachel to hear the words. "I - I know I've hurt you."
"Quinn - "
"No, please let me say this," Quinn interrupts. "Just, I need to get this out, and then we can make out."
Rachel chuckles, but she nods in acceptance.
"I hurt you," Quinn says. "It was - what I did, it was selfish." She closes her eyes. "I wasn't thinking about anything but my pain and making it end, and I'm sorry. I made a promise to you that we would face everything together, and I broke it, and I'm so sorry. I'm sorry, Rachel."
Rachel moves so she's facing her properly, holding her hands to Quinn's face.
"I'm here," Quinn says; "and I'm staying." Her bottom lip trembles. "I - I wish you wouldn't worry so much, but I don't know how to alleviate that without making more impossible promises. Just, I want you to hear me when I say I am in love with you, and I now know how it feels to be without you, and I never want to experience anything like that again." Her jaw clenches. "Some very grown-up things have happened to us, but we're still here, and I believe it's all for a very important reason."
Rachel listens in silence, her heart simultaneously breaking and healing.
"Do you remember our last night in Wallingford over Thanksgiving?" Quinn asks, prompting a memory. "After that disastrous dinner, and I kind of disappeared for a few hours, do you remember?"
Rachel nods, because she doubts she could forget the night she realised she was in love with this gorgeous, broken human being.
"I walked around for hours, feeling lost and untethered, and I remember telling myself that if I could just see you; if I could just get back to you, everything would be better." Quinn pauses, swallowing. "I - I felt the same thing in that bathroom. After." Her eyes fill with tears. "I could hear your voice in my bedroom, and I half-thought I was imagining it, but I knew that if - if I could just see you, it wouldn't hurt anymore. It's all I was thinking.
"If I could just see you and feel you… and then you were there, and - and I was so relieved and scared and you saved me, Rachel. You saved me, because everything is better when I'm with you, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry I messed everything up, but I know now, okay? You make everything better. You make me better, and I'm sorry if I'm just piling all this pressure on you, but I love you, and I'm here, and I'm staying by your side for as long you want me."
Rachel just stares at her, unable to formulate any reasonable words. Her mind is blank, which is a feat all in itself, because Rachel Berry is rarely rendered speechless.
"Quinn," she breathes, and Quinn is there. She's real, solid and warm under Rachel's fingertips.
"Rachel," Quinn echoes, barely a whisper.
"I want forever with you," Rachel tells her.
Quinn nods. "Okay," she says. "Forever I can do."
It's not an explicit promise, but it feels like one, and Rachel will take it. She'll take everything and anything, as long as Quinn is with her.
And then, as planned, they make out.
Finally.
Who needs Sophia Bush when she has Rachel Berry?
The next day, Holly has an easier time getting words out of Quinn, and she has to resist the urge to tease the teenager about the hickey on her neck she's tried and failed to hide.
"How has your day been?" she starts instead.
Quinn's smile is genuine when she answers, "It's actually been okay." She's a little surprised herself. "I think the other students are past the initial shock of everything, and they don't look at me as much as they used to. I even had a freshman come up to me today, to tell me she's glad I didn't die. Which, you know, I'm kind of glad about, too, so, yeah."
Holly blinks. "Only 'kind of.'"
Quinn's good mood evaporates to nothing. "I guess," she starts, clears her throat; "it's just another thing I failed at."
Holly has known, from the beginning, that this assignment was going to be like no other, and she suspects it's all to do with Quinn Fabray. "What are the other things you believe you've failed at?" she asks.
Quinn drops her gaze to her hands in her lap. "I - I failed at saving Frannie," she says, and Holly has to bite the inside her left cheek not to argue immediately. "I failed at getting Mary to stay. I failed at keeping Tori from misery. I failed at holding onto Santana. I - I failed at making my parents proud. I failed at keeping Rachel happy. I - I just keep failing, and I'm still here, somehow."
There's a lot there Holly has to tackle, and she doesn't know where to start. Quinn has introduced new people into the equation, and it's a wonder Quinn has managed to hold on for so long while harbouring all these thoughts.
Before Holly can even begin to question her, Quinn says, "My mother called me today," and all the words Holly was going to say fade away.
"What?"
Quinn clears her throat. "I don't even know how she got my new number," she says. "But, yeah, she called."
"Did you talk to her?"
"No."
"Did you want to?"
Here, Quinn hesitates. "I don't think so," she says. "I just let the phone ring. She didn't call a second time, but she did leave a voicemail."
Holly, once again, isn't prepared, because she's profiled the situation in such a way that all contact was severed. It's unexpected that either of Quinn's parents would reach out. "Have you listened to it?" she asks.
Quinn shakes her head. "I don't think I want to," she says. "I mean, what could she possibly say to me?"
"What do you want her to say to you?"
Quinn doesn't immediately reply, and Holly imagines she's giving it some serious thought. "I - I guess I'd want her to tell me about Frannie," she says, too quiet. "I just - I've always wanted to know about her, you know? This entire sibling that I didn't even know existed until I was already practically the age she died."
"They never talked about her?" Holly asks, frowning.
"Never," she says. "Not in front of me, at least. Maybe with each other, but all I learnt about her was from Mary, and even that was limited." She sighs. "I've always been curious, but never quite brave enough to do anything about it."
"Would you like me to look and see what I can find?" Holly offers, because she thinks this closure is something Quinn needs.
"Would you?" Quinn says, and her voice is so hopeful.
"Of course," she says, and makes a note on her notepad. "Frannie Fabray."
"Frances, as mush as I'm aware," Quinn clarifies. "Born in 1987."
Holly makes another note. She's not sure what she'll find, if anything, but she's definitely going to look. At this point, she's sure she'll do just about anything to make all of this better.
Quinn allows them to sit in silence for a long minute before she clears her throat. "There is actually something else I wanted to ask you," she says, and if she sounds nervous; Holly is trying not to worry too much.
"What is it?"
Quinn steels herself. "You're not going to like it," she says. "Neither is Rachel."
Holly shifts in her seat, preparing herself. "I'm listening."
During Rachel's session, Holly sits back and listens as Rachel spends the first half of their session gushing about her Valentine's date with Quinn. There's something lighter about the teenager, as if she's overcome one of her own demons in relation to Quinn, and Holly is worried and relieved but also a lot proud.
Of Rachel, Quinn, and herself.
They're getting somewhere.
Rachel must realise it too, because it catches Rachel unawares when Holly says, "Tell me about your life before Dalton." Which is just a kind way of asking about her life before Quinn.
"Oh."
Holly smiles easily. "I'm just curious," she offers. "It's just that Quinn has mentioned that you've both been through a lot, and I thought there were other things I could help with."
Rachel shifts in her seat. "I have a therapist, you know," she says. "I actually have two of them. One in New York, and another in Wallingford."
Holly shrugs. "Humour me."
"Umm," Rachel hesitates, unsure where she's supposed to start. "I mean, before Dalton, I lived with my parents, and I guess my grandparents as well, in Wallingford, and I went to school there. Sometimes, I helped with the vineyard, but I was more focused on my singing lessons, if I'm honest."
"You sing?"
Rachel nods. "I do," she says. "I intend to pursue a degree in musical theatre in the Fall."
Holly smiles genuinely. "That's amazing, Rachel," she says. "Is that why you moved to Dalton? To help reach that dream?"
Here, Rachel hesitates again. She wasn't under the illusion she wouldn't have to divulge parts of her past, but she really, really doesn't want to. "I - um, something happened," she says carefully. "Something terrible."
Holly keeps her gaze on Rachel's face, seeing something specific and dark in her expression. "You don't have to tell me," she offers.
Rachel breathes deeply. "I think it says a lot about the state of my relationship with Quinn that Googling either one of our names would produce articles on things considered a scandal," she says, a little self-deprecatingly.
"Does that mean Quinn knows?" Holly asks, deciding not to pry.
Rachel nods. "She found out before I could actually tell her," she explains; "but she was really good about it when I was finally able to talk to her about it properly." Her smile is soft, a little sad. "It still amazes me that she even wants me, after everything she knows."
"She loves you."
"I know," Rachel says, because she does know. "I just wish it were enough."
Holly hums in something like agreement, because that's a reality they're all too aware of. "So, how did you pick Dalton, then?"
Inexplicably, Rachel actually flushes. "Believe it or not, Quinn actually had something to do with it," she reveals. "I don't know if I really believe in fate and destiny, but there's always been something inevitable about me and Quinn." If possible, her blush gets deeper. "Is that silly? Gosh, that sounds so silly."
"No, it doesn't," Holly assures her. "There are loves like that."
Rachel stills. "Have - have you had one like that?" she asks, and then immediately regrets it when Holly's facial expression falls. "Sorry," she immediately says. "I didn't mean - that's too personal, right?"
Holly clears her throat. "It's okay," she says. "I - yes, I suppose I have." For a moment, she considers leaving it at that, but her mouth opens again. "I lost him, though. He's the reason I pursued this as a career."
Rachel hears what she's not saying loud and clear. There have have been moments when Rachel has considered how her life would be if Quinn had succeeded. If Quinn was gone forever, where would Rachel be? How would a loss like that alter her life? Would she even survive such a thing?
"I - I guess the people we love change us in ways we can never expect," Rachel finds herself saying.
Holly is relieved Rachel doesn't question her more or offer platitudes. "In what ways do you think Quinn has changed you?" she asks.
"I stopped singing," she starts. "After the terrible thing that happened. Singing, it's like - it's such a part of me, you know, and I lost it for a while. I lost all sorts of things about myself, and the person who came to Dalton was such a pale imitation of the person I was before. And then I made the crazy decision to run for Head Student, throwing myself right into Quinn's orbit, and that - she challenged me, and woke up whatever I allowed to go dormant."
"And, what do you think you've changed in Quinn?" Holly asks.
Rachel spends a moment thinking about it. "I can't be too sure, given I didn't know her before I met her," she says with a tiny grin. "But, what I've learned is that she was a lot more guarded before the race for Head Student. Santana told me Quinn wasn't initially going to run, but Santana roped her into it, and Quinn kind of took it by the horns and ended up winning."
"Oh?"
"She wasn't as social before," Rachel says. "The only friend she really had was Santana, and then her teammates, but she's really opened up to a lot more people since then." Her smile is proud. "Quinn didn't think she could do it, whether she didn't want to stretch herself too thin or she was too focused on her academics." She clears her throat. "But, then, you know, nobody wanted Azimio Adams to win."
Holly recognises the name from Rachel's file, but chooses not to pursue that line of conversation. "I assume losing the election was a bitter pill to swallow?"
Rachel chuckles. "It kind of was," she admits. "I put a lot of time and effort and… desire into it, you know? Like, I really wanted it, and I hadn't felt that way in a while. So, yes, it sucked, but Quinn was a worthy winner, and she's more than proved it during her tenure."
"But it hasn't always been smooth sailing, has it?"
Rachel feels a blush creep up her neck. "Well, I mean, yes," she says. "We clashed a lot. Quinn kind of asked me to… keep her in check, as it were, which basically gave me license to contradict nearly every decision she wanted to make."
"Which you did?"
"In my defence," Rachel says, smiling just a little; "she's insanely hot when she gets all worked up." She chuckles to herself. "And, I wasn't really aware of what I was doing until I was aware, you know?"
"Is that something we can talk about?" Holly asks. "Your getting together."
Rachel nods slowly. "I mean, I was in love with her long before we started dating," she says. "And, I was convinced she would turn me down if ever I worked up the courage to tell her."
"That isn't what happened, though?"
"She kissed me while I was letting myself down for her," Rachel says, chuckling softly. "It was unexpected." Her smile turns softer. "It was… everything, really. I never quite allowed myself to imagine what it would be like to be with her, and then I was, and it's been - it's been amazing." Her smile slips. "For the most part, at least."
"It hasn't been easy?"
"No, that's not it," Rachel says with a shake of her head. "I mean, relationships aren't always easy, but I've always been certain of her love. I don't know what it is about her, or us, but it's something of which I've always been so sure. Like, between the two of us, if we had it our way, I know we would be together forever."
"But?"
"But the world just doesn't seem to want to let us," she says. "Everything working against us is some kind of external factor. People putting things in our heads, creating conflict and all those horrible things that test relationships. And, you know, we get through it all, somehow. Together. Just - "
"This time, she tried to do it alone," Holly finishes.
"Well, she's kind of an idiot, so I'm trying not to hold it against her too much," she confesses. "I'm a work in progress as much as she is."
"I'm glad you realise that."
Rachel shrugs, and Holly deems that topic of discussion closed. For now, at least.
Next, just because she's curious, Holly asks, "What are you considering for after graduation?"
Rachel lets out a long breath. "It's like it's so far away, but it's just around the corner, isn't it?" she muses. "I mean, personally, I'm going to try to get into some Summer Programs while I'm in New York. After I spend a few weeks in Wallingford, of course." Her face pinches, and Holly suspects it's to do with certain members of her family she might encounter while she's there. "The plan is New York, though. For both of us. I'm sure Quinn has some soccer thing going on with Owen, and, as far as I know, Princeton starts training early."
"Are you saying you're going to be spending parts of the summer apart?" Holly asks, a slight crease to her brow.
Rachel feels something unpleasant bubble in the bottom of her stomach. "I am," she confirms. "We are."
"And, how are you feeling about that?"
Rachel audibly swallows. "Not so good, to be honest," she says. "I've been working on it; I really have, but I can't help the anxiety I feel at the mere thought of being so far away from her."
"And how's your anxiety right now?"
Rachel sighs. "It helps that I know she's with her teammates playing soccer right now," she confesses. "I try not to think about what I would be feeling if she were somewhere on her own."
"That day is going to come sooner than you think," Holly says, and it sounds as if she knows something Rachel doesn't.
"I know," Rachel says, but even she doesn't even know just how soon.
Rachel knows it's childish, but there's only one way she knows how to react when Quinn says, "I'm still going to the training camp."
She hasn't said a word to the blonde for thirty-two hours.
It's a complicated situation, she knows, and she hates the way she's reacting to the sheer idea of Quinn being out of her presence for any stretch of time, but there's really nothing else to be done. Quinn is still going, even if it's obvious to nearly everyone that it's the last thing Rachel wants.
"Doesn't she know what she means to me?" Rachel asks - well, rants at - Holly during her Friday afternoon session. Quinn is already gone, having taken some drugs and boarded a plane accompanied by Owen, and now Rachel is tense and angry and so, so scared that the last thing she could have said to Quinn could have been something so awful.
Though, despite Rachel's own radio silence, Quinn has been very good about keeping in contact. She sends updates via text, and, while Rachel doesn't reply, she reads them all, taking it all in with a sense of relief and building anxiety.
"Why would you even let her go?" Rachel asks Holly, stopping her pacing and glaring at the woman.
Holly gives her a curious look. "She asked," she says simply, as if that should be enough. "I wasn't going to deny her something she asked for; something she's decided she wants, Rachel. How - how do you think it would make her feel if both of us were against her going? Because you know what this looks like to her, right?"
Rachel clenches her jaw almost as tightly as her fists. "It looks like I don't trust her," she says, deflating at the sound of her own words. "And I don't."
Holly leans forward. "You don't?"
"I don't," Rachel confirms, and she knows it's not fair. They're supposed to be past this; they're supposed to have overcome this, after Valentine's Day. But, god, she can't help it. "Do you - do you know she stares out her window a lot? And that she doesn't even carry her inhaler anymore?" She shakes her head. "And, now, you've just let her... leave the State, to go into a high-pressure environment where - "
"Where she wants to be," Holly interrupts. "She wants to be there, Rachel, and that is the difference. She doesn't ask for anything, but she did this, and I - " she stops. "Is it that the thing she wants is away from here?" she asks. "Away from you?"
Rachel flinches at the accusation. That's - that's not what this is about. It's not. It can't be. She's not that selfish that she would -
"What - what does that say about me?" Rachel whimpers, sudden and a little desperate.
Holly doesn't immediately respond, waiting for Rachel's breath to grow steady. "I think it says that you want to be the one to save her, when we both know she's the only one who can." She smiles gently, showing she understands something of what Rachel is going through. "I think it says that you love her and want to protect her from the world, but it isn't a realistic endeavour, and I know you know that."
"Aren't you even a little worried?" Rachel questions, moving to sit in her seat.
"Of course," Holly says. "But, she's been good at keeping me informed of her whereabouts, and I know she's done the same for you. I realise it's probably soon for this kind of separation, but this camp wasn't something she could skip if she wants a chance at going to the tournament."
"Is that how she sold it to you?" Rachel asks, only a little amused, now that her rage has dissipated.
"Actually, that was Owen," Holly says, and her tone of voice goes soft in a way it hasn't in so long.
Rachel hears it, because her eyebrows rise.
Holly shakes her head, forcing herself not to blush. "Don't you say anything."
Rachel exaggerates the mime of zipping shut her lips, and they deftly move on to talk about Rachel's upcoming Regionals' completion with the ConChords.
Quinn, admittedly, isn't sure what to expect.
Owen tries to prepare her on the way to the airport in the city, but she's only half paying attention. She can't decide if it's a good idea to take her anxiety medication, because the last thing she wants is to be groggy when she arrives in Florida, but she also doesn't want to arrive as an emotional wreck.
Hah.
So she takes her pills, boards the plane and kind of hopes for the best.
The flight is longer than she thought it would be, but she's blissfully anonymous beyond the handful of officials doing a double-take at the name on her boarding pass. As far as she's aware, she's still part of the news cycle in Connecticut, but she's oddly looking forward to possibly being just another soccer player on a pitch that's far away from the pity and the stares.
She just wants to play soccer.
Just for a little while, she wants to forget the rest of the world exists beyond the ball at her feet.
There are other girls at the airport in Miami when she lands, and they send a van to collect them to take them to the hotel where they'll be staying. Quinn is polite with her introductions, meeting a Maya, Faye and Mikaila. She can't even contain her relief when they don't seem to know whom she is.
It's much warmer in Miami than in Connecticut, which is always fun. She shoots a text to Rachel that she's arrived safely, even though she's sure she won't be getting a reply any time soon. It's disappointing, but she intends to keep trying. She doesn't think she handled the situation well - neither did Rachel - but she's trying not to blame anyone in something that is and will probably continue to be a delicate situation.
This isn't Quinn's first time in Florida. She came, once, to Orlando, with her freshman class on a school trip to DisneyWorld. It was what it was. She doesn't know if she was capable of actually having fun back then. In fact, she's not sure she's capable of it right now.
Well.
She's about to learn.
They're met by one of the team advisors when they arrive at the hotel. A Dustin Warner gets them checked in, and then sends them up to their randomly-assigned rooms, reminding them of their first team dinner and meeting that evening in Conference Room 3 in a couple of hours.
"God, I'm exhausted," Mikaila complains as she leans against the railing in the elevator. "I'm totally catching a nap."
Maya rolls her eyes. "Only you would pass up the opportunity to explore to catch a nap," she deadpans.
"I don't know, Maya," Faye murmurs, stifling a yawn. "I think I'm with Mik there. I just got in from Seattle. That's an actual change in time zone, you know."
Maya scoffs, and then looks at Quinn. "What about you? Nap or explore?"
Quinn shrugs. "Both," she offers with an innocent smile.
Maya just laughs. "New Kid's playing it safe, I see," she teases. "Whatever. You're all so fucking lame."
The elevator doors open to the seventh floor a beat later, and the four of them step out with their own luggage.
"I'm this way," Faye says, pointing to the right.
"We're this way," Mikaila says, letting out a yawn.
"Later, bitches," Faye says, and then starts down the corridor. Quinn checks her own key again, and then follows after her, waving at the other two girls. They seem nice, if a little abrupt. It's obvious they all know one another, so they're comfortable in one another's presence, which is why Quinn appreciates that her newness wasn't made an actual topic of conversation.
Nope.
That's reserved for later.
Quinn meets her roommate just a half hour before they're scheduled to meet with the entire team for dinner. It's clear, when Quinn actually gets to the room, that the other girl has already arrived, but Quinn still spends the next few hours napping, unpacking and talking to Kurt, Owen and then Holly. She tries Rachel, of course, but her girlfriend is still being stubborn, so she settles for a text.
When her roommate arrives, she's not alone. She's with two other girls, and they stop speaking as soon as the door opens to find Quinn sitting on her bed with the journal Holly insists she use in her lap.
"Hey," one of the girls says, recovering from the slightly awkward moment. "You must be Quinn," she says. "I'm Morgan." The roommate. "This is Jae, and Katy."
Quinn forces her voice to sound normal when she says, "Hey," back. "Nice to meet you."
"I'm just grabbing my jacket," Morgan says. "We're about to head down. Do you want to join us?"
Quinn waits a beat to register the words, and then nods, already starting to get up and grab her shoes. She's aware of eyes on her as Morgan moves towards her suitcase while Jae and Katy start murmuring to each other by the door.
She catches did you hear that Hanna didn't even get on the roster? and I don't know what Coach is thinking and she doesn't even look as good as they say and I'll throw a fit if she gets a starting spot.
Quinn's jaw clenches as she ties her laces, head bent. As if they're unaware she can hear them. She sneaks a look at Morgan, whose own face is flushed with embarrassment and mild anger. When she notices Quinn looking, she mouths the word sorry, which shouldn't be enough, but it is a little, in the moment.
Morgan clears her throat loudly, making the two girls stop speaking. "We're ready," she says, voice just a little high, and both girls give her a curious look. Morgan just ushers them out of the room, Quinn hesitating for a moment, before following behind the tall brunette.
Quinn fiddles with her phone in her hand as Morgan closes the door and offers her another smile. "Sorry about them," she says, louder this time, seeing as Katy and Jae have already gone on without them.
Quinn doesn't say it's okay, because it isn't.
"I'm sure I could come up with some plausible reason for their behaviour, but they're really just sour their friend, Hanna, isn't here," Morgan explains.
Quinn sighs. "I'm guessing I took her spot?"
"Kind of," Morgan says with a shrug. "But, if you ask me, Hanna hasn't really been performing this cycle, so she probably wouldn't have made the final list, anyway."
Quinn winces.
"They're pretty cutthroat here," Morgan says. "What position do you play?"
"Forward," Quinn tells her. "A number nine, or even a number ten."
"No wing play?"
"From the left, if it's really necessary," Quinn admits. "I prefer the middle, but I can do it." They approach the elevators where Jae and Katy have already pressed the button. "What about you?"
"Midfield," Morgan answers. "Probably more defence than offence." She gestures at Katy. "Leftback, there, and Tay is definitely a winger. She can dribble you straight into the ground, if you're not careful."
Quinn manages a smile, even when the other two girls don't visibly react to their arrival. It doesn't really affect her, given everything she's been through in her life, but she was kind of looking forward to some respite.
They don't even know her surname and they already hate her.
Why can't just one thing be easy?
Well. Quinn wasn't lying when she told Kurt she's convinced she's survived the worst the world could possibly do to her.
She'll survive this.