Author's Notes: Thanks go to Mike Ownby for going through the drafts, making sure the American things are truly American, and for helping me figure out which things are in the fic, and not in my head. The extended notes can be found on my Tumblr yumi-michiyo as usual.

A few months back, when Quinn and Santana were planning out their road trip, Quinn found that Louisville was mentioned on a number of tourist guides as being a nice place for sightseeing. Subsequently, she had no trouble adding it to their itinerary, especially after casually mentioning the number of breweries in the town.

Despite all that, Quinn has yet to actually see the sights.

It's really all her fault; she'd chosen to wear her new shirt today, and was rewarded with a slow appreciative glance that Marley didn't bother to hide. Which Quinn liked; it had been too long since someone had looked at her that way. But it's been at least an hour since she'd gotten dressed, and they have yet to check out of their motel room.

"Marley," she starts, and then doesn't finish the thought, because Marley is kissing her again. Quinn can feel the other girl smile into her skin.

"Hmmm?"

"We should… we need to go." She forgets why, exactly, when Marley's fingers curl around the back of her neck and scratch lightly, sending shivers down her spine.

"And we will, once I'm done here," promises Marley. "Did I mention that your shirt looks really, really good on you?"

"Yes. About a hundred times so far, and counting." Quinn knows it came out sounding a lot more petulant that she'd intended, but Marley just laughs at her.

"See? It's all your fault." Marley's breath patters on Quinn's skin, and makes it very hard for Quinn to focus.

"Okay, we've established that you're useless, but how is this my fault?" Quinn asks indignantly.

"Because I have no self-control?" Marley drops a soft kiss on Quinn's cheek; it's the most innocent out of all the ones they've shared this morning, and yet it's the one that takes Quinn's breath away. "Okay, yes. You're right; we should go."

"Finally," Quinn mutters. She doesn't bother hiding her disappointment because she knows it'll get a smile out of Marley. Which, frankly, is pointless, because the other girl has yet to stop smiling.

Over the past few days, Quinn's had plenty of time to notice that Marley's driving is completely different from her own.

When Quinn drives, it's about getting from Point A to Point B with the most direct route according to the navigation app on her phone.

But when Marley drives, she doesn't look at her phone at all; there have even been a few times when Marley drives in the opposite direction of the GPS's instructions. Quinn used to think it was because Marley was terrible at directions and/or driving, but now…

Now that she's not in a hurry for this trip to end, Quinn finds herself starting to appreciate Marley's approach to traveling. How she depends on local signage to find her way around. How she's prone to pulling over in a small town because she sees something interesting and wants to get a closer look.

Now would be a prime example; currently, they're parked outside a diner in Elizabethtown, because Marley proclaimed her love for the movie of the same name while on the highway, and proceeded to take the next exit for the town.

"Orlando Bloom, Quinn! And Kirsten Dunst!"

She shakes her head. "Never heard of it."

"An outrage. We're watching it tonight," mumbles Marley. She has her camera out as she marches up and down the main street, occasionally squinting through the camera viewfinder to check the angle.

"Fine." To Quinn, Elizabethtown looks like any other small and unremarkable Midwestern town, so she watches Marley instead. The other girl has her brow furrowed as she inspects the picture she's just taken. Quinn's noticed that she'll chew on her lower lip if the picture isn't to her liking; she'll smile if it is.

Marley squints at her camera, smiles smugly, and returns to Quinn.

"What movies do you watch?"

"What?" She's distracted, and waits for Marley to repeat the question.

"Frankly, I'm amazed I haven't asked you this earlier. We've talked about everything else; favorite ice cream flavor, favorite color…"

"Out of curiosity, what is my favorite color?" Quinn honestly doesn't remember telling Marley that, but to be fair, the past week-and-a-half has been rather eventful.

"Periwinkle blue. Even though a lot of people think it's meant for babies." There's a hot blush starting up Marley's neck for some reason.

"Hmm." Quinn nods, impressed.

"Stop changing the subject. So, what's your favorite movie?"

"Uh…" Quinn frowns. "I don't really have one. Most musicals are okay, as long as they're not too Broadway. I've probably seen every Disney film ever made 'cause that's the only thing everyone can agree on for movie night."

Marley puts her hands on her hips. "That was specific."

Quinn laughs. "I just prefer reading. Why is it so important for me to have favorite movies?"

"Honestly? I was half-expecting you'd declare your passion for grainy old black and white films, or foreign movies with subtitles, or… Citizen Kane."

"I'm not that much of a nerd," Quinn protests, outraged. "So this is what you think of me? I'm hurt, Rose."

"I never said you were a nerd; you said it yourself," says Marley. She puts her camera back in her pocket. "Me, I love romantic comedies. The cheesier, the better. You know, A Walk to Remember and stuff like that."

"It's really obvious."

Marley grins lazily at her, completely unbothered. "What's the last movie you watched? That you picked?" she quickly adds.

Quinn, who was about to answer the first question, has to pause to think. ""I watched… Inception, because I wanted to see what the hype was about."

Marley raises an eyebrow. "So much for not being a nerd."

"I resent that," says Quinn. "And… O Brother, Where Art Thou?" She'd seen a film review on the classical allusions in the movie, and had been curious enough about how the Odyssey meshed with rural America to rent the DVD.

"Hmm. Very interesting." Marley mimes stroking an imaginary beard, squinting at Quinn. "Very, very interesting."

Quinn rolls her eyes. "What's the verdict, Carl Jung?"

A loud laugh bubbles out of Marley. "You're either a robot, or you think your favorite movie is too embarrassing to share with me. Which is baffling. Like, my favorite movie of all time is Enchanted; it's hard to name a guiltier pleasure than that."

"No judgement," says Quinn. "I love Enchanted too."

"But it's not your favorite movie?"

"I told you, I don't really have a favorite movie." Quinn scoffs. "You're making me sound like such a snob."

"I bet you this bag of gummy bears that you have a favorite movie, and I'll find out sooner or later," Marley informs her, smiling. "You can't hide the truth from me, Quinn; I'm like a Canadian Mountie."

"Those are my gummy bears. You ate all of yours yesterday." Quinn rolls her eyes. "Okay, I watched Once last week with Rachel. I guess that's my current favorite movie."

Marley's face lights up. "I love that movie, but it's so sad. But really beautiful," Marley sighs happily, sounding completely oblivious to Quinn's sarcasm. "It really got me into songwriting."

"You write songs?" She has a flashback to the song she and Rachel wrote (it totally counted if she inspired Rachel to write it) for Regionals. "Are they any good?" she asks, half-joking.

"Probably not," replies Marley in that same light tone. "I thought they were pretty good at the time, though; even sent some off to songwriting competitions, but didn't hear back, of course."

"You could major in songwriting in college. Doesn't NYU have that famous music school? You could be the next Sia," says Quinn.

Much to her surprise, red creeps up Marley's neck: a surefire sign she's uncomfortable. "I guess. Oh! Are you hungry? We could grab some food for the road." Marley nods at the diner. "Since we're already parked here and all. It's not very nice of us to be using their parking spots for nothing."

Quinn, herself a master of evasion and deflecting, knows what Marley's doing. But she recognizes this isn't the right time and place for this conversation, so she plays dumb and doesn't pry further.

They stop at a gas station to switch over. "Let's take a break," says Marley, stretching her arms over her head.

Quinn looks away before Marley can catch her staring. "Sure."

"I could go for a drink," Marley continues, glancing over at the convenience store. "What about you?"

"No, thank you."

"You sure? It's still a little way longer to Nashville." Marley pulls out her phone to check her map. "We're about an hour out."

"We just had breakfast. Not everyone is a black hole like you."

She shrugs and walks off, returning shortly afterwards with her arms full of colorful bags. "So, I know we're headed for Nashville…" says Marley, opening a bottle of soda.

"Yes…?" Quinn arches an eyebrow at her.

"There were a whole bunch of flyers inside advertising local tourist stuff." Marley reaches into the heap of junk food and pulls out a flyer that says Mammoth Cave in Jurassic Park-styled font.

"Mammoth Cave?" Quinn asks, warily. "This isn't like the Bell Witch cave thing that Santana tried to sucker me into putting on the plan, is it?"

"What? God, no." Marley holds up the brochure to show Quinn. "It's the longest cave system in the world. Most importantly, there's a Dinosaur World!"

"Right, you and your dinosaurs." It's hard to forget how excited Marley was to meet Sue in Chicago. Quinn squints at the brochure, and the photos of people posing with dinosaur models. It looks unabashedly tacky; the exact sort of thing she knows Marley loves. "So, you wanna go?"

"It's on the way to Nashville," wheedles Marley. "They have over 150 lifesize dinosaur replicas," she says, flipping the brochure over. "And real fossils, look!"

"We have plenty of fossils in the staff room at McKinley," says Quinn, just to annoy Marley.

Marley snorts with laughter. "God, your sense of humor is ridiculous. It's hard to believe that you used to be the most terrifying person in school."

"I still am, because I sic Rachel and Santana on anyone who says otherwise."

Her friend's eyes go wide. "Quinn!"

Quinn smirks. "That was a joke."

"I know it is," says Marley, "but I can totally imagine you unleashing them on people. They're really scary when competitions are coming up." She shudders and helps herself to a handful of gummy bears from her stash. "So… is that a yes? For the record, I think you're the funniest person in the galaxy," she adds, waggling her eyebrows exaggeratedly.

Of course, Quinn can't say no; especially not when Marley is being this ridiculous. "Give me a bag of your snacks and you've got yourself a deal," she says.

"Really?" Marley squeals. She hands her opened bag of gummy bears to Quinn, who wrinkles her nose.

"Yes, but I really don't understand you," Quinn says. She accepts the bag nonetheless.

Marley shakes her head. She reaches into the bag Quinn is now holding, helping herself to more candy. "What's there to understand? I'm a girl, Quinn; not a Mensa puzzle."

"I thought you were pretty cool in the beginning," says Quinn. "It was honestly such a relief when you said you were okay with most of the original itinerary. Then as this trip progresses, suddenly you wanna switch out the places we agreed on earlier for the weirdest tourist traps. I'm not complaining or anything, I'm just… dinosaurs? Really? Not to mention the world's largest ball of paint that we skipped yesterday…"

Marley grins sheepishly. "You're pretty cool yourself, for letting me put in all these weird places."

"Flattery will get you nowhere." She reaches into the bag she's holding, and gasps in outrage when she finds it empty. "My gummies!"

"They were good," says Marley sheepishly. She gasps in outrage too, when Quinn lobs the balled-up bag at her. "Quinn!"

"I cannot believe you. You literally just gave me that bag," says Quinn mournfully.

"I'll replace it, you goober." Marley is clearly fighting back laughter; Quinn briefly smiles in amusement before she purses her lips back into a pout.

"You're going back to the store now?"

"I'll have to, I only bought one bag of gummy bears." Marley pokes through her haul disconsolately.

Quinn narrows her eyes. "You owe me two bags now, 'cause I'm gonna hide one where it'll be safe from you."

Marley makes a face at her. "No, you're gonna hide it somewhere and then forget about it. It'll end up being a melted mess that you'll discover after this trip is over. Give me a call when you find it then; I'll come over just to laugh at you." She grabs her purse and starts walking towards the convenience store.

"Don't be ridiculous. My car's a Mini; no way something can go missing in it," Quinn calls after her.

Marley twists around, sticks her tongue out at Quinn, and continues walking; all without breaking her stride.

Quinn chuckles to herself.

Marley returns shortly after with the promised gummy bears. Quinn makes a show of tucking one bag into the side compartment of the passenger seat.

Marley snorts. "You know I'll just help myself when we switch over later, right?"

"I'm not keeping them here forever, I'll hide them later."

Marley shakes her head. "Figures. Oh, and Quinn?"

"Yeah?"

"To answer your question earlier, I wasn't sure if you were cool with all my weird tourist trap things." Marley looks a little uncomfortable. "I was still a little scared of you, to be perfectly honest."

"Oh."

"But," she continues, "the more I got to know you, the more comfortable I got being myself around you."

Quinn frowns. The logic makes sense, apart from one niggling detail. "But if you were scared of me, why did you agree to take a chance on this road trip in the first place?"

Much to Quinn's surprise, Marley's cheeks turn pink and she doesn't answer. "We should get going or we won't have time to cram everything in today," says Marley, turning the key in the ignition.

It's the second time Marley has dodged a question, and it really isn't like her. Yet, coaxing people into talking isn't exactly Quinn's forte.

Tonight, she tells herself. If it happens again, Quinn'll ask about it tonight. It's the least she can do for this strange and wonderful girl.

"We're finally here." It had been a close thing; Marley had wanted to stay at Dinosaur World for the rest of the day. In the end, Quinn had prevailed, and they'd arrived in Nashville before long.

Marley practically skips down the street, gawking up at the Grand Ole Opry. "This is amazing."

"It really is, but honestly? I'm getting a little tired of big fancy buildings, we've been seeing plenty of them over the past few days."

Marley stops dead to gawk at her. "Quinn!" she exclaims, offended as though Quinn has uttered something blasphemous.

"You and your obsession with big houses." Quinn says fondly.

"Can you blame me, Quinn? Look at it." She flails at the building. "Oh, mah deah!" Marley says in an exaggerated Southern accent.

"No."

"Yeah!"

Quinn squints at her. Marley is excitable, that's for sure, but she seems a little more hyped up than usual. "How much sugar did you eat in the car?"

"Dunno. Not yours, though," says Marley defensively. "See, this is what happens when I don't drive. I end up snacking."

"Figures," says Quinn with a sigh. "I'm road-tripping with a sugar-crazed child."

"But you like me," Marley counters. The impish smile she wears tells Quinn she's well aware of the double meaning.

The warm summer air turns oppressive. Quinn realizes – just in time – that her answer here is important. "Sometimes, I wonder why I even like you," she begins cautiously. "You're absolutely ridiculous."

Marley brightens; Quinn breathes a soft sigh of relief. "I don't blame you; who wouldn't get up on all this?" Marley asks in a fake gangsta accent, gesturing at herself.

"Most sane people," remarks Quinn, earning herself a dirty look.

"Which you are not? Though you're the prettiest girl ever to fall for my charms."

"Like you had your share of pretty girls chasing after you."

"I wouldn't know," Marley admits shyly. "I never imagined someone like you ever liking someone like me."

"I would've never imagined me being okay with liking girls at all."

It's the first time they've talked about Quinn being gay since… Chicago. Sometimes, Quinn feels like one of the sexual predators her dad used to warn her gay people were; lying in wait to corrupt innocent, naive people, teaching them their wicked ways. After all, Marley isn't gay, but they're… more than friends. Quinn won't say they're together, because all this will have to come to an end in less than a week.

After a brief pause to marshal all these thoughts into coherent sentences, Quinn says so, and is mildly offended when Marley doubles up in helpless laughter.

"God, you…" She dissolves into more laughter. "Quinn, I…"

"Just finish laughing before you give yourself an aneurysm," says Quinn snippily. It only sets Marley off all over again.

Marley tips her head back, sucking in loud lungfuls of air. "Okay, I'm calm," she says. Her head rolls to the side, forehead coming to rest against Quinn's shoulder. "I promise I won't laugh now."

"Thank you," says Quinn dryly.

"You're not a gay predator, Quinn," Marley says, her mouth twitching. "You didn't turn me gay, I swear. No offense, but your dad is a little… well. I'm not his biggest fan."

"The less said about him, the better," says Quinn. It's silly, but hearing Marley lay it out eases a load off Quinn's mind.

"My mom raised me to believe that love is love. It must have been hard, growing up the way you did." She reaches for Quinn's hand.

"That's nice. My parents don't know I am," says Quinn. "Gay, that is."

"Do you ever think you'll tell them?"

"No." Quinn presses her lips into a flat line. "My dad couldn't even handle me being pregnant. He doesn't deserve to be kept updated about what's happening in my life. And my mom… she tries, but I think it might be too much for her. Anyway, I don't need approval from them, not anymore."

"Mmhmm."

"I'm actually looking forward to college. Not just because of the whole fresh start, but also to find out who I'm supposed to be without any crazy expectations put on me, or feel like I'm constantly working for parental approval. Just… time and space to adjust."

Marley squeezes her hand. "I think that sounds wonderful."

Quinn can't hold in her excitement. The Parthenon stands before her, the next best thing to flying to Greece.

"Well, I declare! Mercy me! I reckon this is the biggest, fanciest, mansion of them all," says Marley in her hideous Southern accent.

"Shut up," she says, shoving at a grinning Marley. "Classics don't count."

"Bless your heart."

"I just know you probably insulted me in some obscure Southern way, but I'm gonna ignore you for now."

"You can't ignore me forever!"

Being the massive Motown fan that she is, Quinn is thrilled to see the United Record Pressing building. "Imagine all the vinyls being produced here," says Quinn, eyes shining with excitement. "And all the stars who stayed in the Motown Suite."

"Are you a vinyl fan?"

Quinn blushes. "It's too expensive a hobby right now. But my dad has an excellent collection. Lucky for me, he left it behind when he moved out." Quinn occasionally feels a little guilty that if she had to choose between the two of them, she'd pick the vinyls over her father.

"When we get back, I insist on seeing them," says Marley. "And listening to them."

She hasn't touched them since she moved back in. But all Quinn can think of, when she sees Marley's excitement, is of the good memories; Sunday afternoons dancing with her father to Benny Goodman. "I think I'd like that," says Quinn.

They're both just as excited for Hatch Show Print. "I have to buy a souvenir for Sam, he'd sulk if I didn't. He was pretty bummed that he couldn't come on this trip." Quinn looks over at Marley, and can't resist a jab at her expense: "But please don't try to buy something for yourself; we'll still be stuck here when college starts."

Marley scowls. "Hardy har har."

It's getting late, but Quinn isn't ready for this day to come to an end.

Evidently, Marley feels the same way, because she keeps stubbornly walking around town, leaning into Quinn's side. "Hey, look."

"A bar?"

"Not that. They're having a karaoke competition, Quinn, and it's open to all. Look, the first prize's two hundred bucks."

Quinn frowns. "You want to take part in that?"

Marley's mouth scrunches up to the side. "I could use the money. But… performing in front of everyone on my own isn't that great. I mean, Glee's okay, because it's just us in the choir room, and everyone's onstage together for competitions, but…" She sighs. "Yeah, never mind."

"I could perform with you if you want," Quinn finds herself saying.

Marley turns to Quinn, eyes shining. "You would?"

Quinn tries very hard not to blush. "It's two hundred dollars, right? It wouldn't hurt to try, since we've got an unfair advantage over everyone else." She's just glad that Rachel isn't here; Rachel would probably be onstage all night, and Quinn would have to make a scene prying her fingers off the mike at closing time. They'd probably win, but they'd probably also be banned from the place for life.

A quick kiss is pressed to Quinn's cheek, and then she's being dragged inside. Luckily for them, they don't need to use their fake IDs (though they do have to get an underage wristband each). Marley does all the talking, and within fifteen minutes they're waiting for their turn to perform.

Quinn doesn't know what hit her, until she realizes something important. "Oh, shit."

"What?"

"We haven't picked a song."

Marley smiles. "I've got it all planned out," she says, handing Quinn her phone. "We're doing this one."

Her eyes widen when she sees the song playing. "Really? This one?"

"Unless you've got a better idea," says Marley. "Besides, I thought you'd be jumping at the chance to perform a song from your current favorite movie."

"It's a little last-minute, but I've had years of experience with Mr Schue and his last-minute setlists," Quinn jokes.

Marley laughs easily.

When they're called up, Marley's hand finds hers as they walk towards the stage. Her hand is a little cold, and it shakes. Quinn's thumb rubs the inside of Marley's wrist soothingly.

They've agreed that Marley will take the male part as she has the larger range and lower vocal register. When she starts to sing, there's no tremble in her voice.

I don't know you
But I want you
All the more for that

Quinn's breath catches in her throat. The look in Marley's eyes reminds her of a conversation they've had, something about duets and singing for someone else…

She joins in on the next verse; Marley smiles at her briefly, before turning her attention back to the lyrics.

Words fall through me
And always fool me
And I can't react

Once was a compromise between her and Rachel for movie night, because Rachel wanted a musical and Quinn didn't want another Broadway show. She'd ended up liking the movie (much to Rachel's unending smugness) because it had struck a chord within her, this movie about two lovers who weren't in love.

Falling slowly, eyes that know me
And I can't go back
And moods that take me and erase me
And I'm painted black

Marley sings the next verse solo, not looking away from Quinn as she sings.

Well, you have suffered enough
And warred with yourself
It's time that you won

Quinn blushes; it feels as though the lyrics are written for her.

Take this sinking boat and point it home
We've still got time
Raise your hopeful voice, you have a choice
You'll make it now

How ironic. It's all wrong; Quinn's already in too deep, they haven't got any time left… and the choice has already been made for them.

Thunderous applause sounds when the song ends. "Well, that wasn't so bad," says Quinn as she leaves the stage. She gets no response, and pauses. "Marley?" She turns around; no Marley.

"Good evenin', y'all!" says a male voice into the PA. "I'm Matt, and I'm glad to announce that since y'all loved that performance so much, here's Marley again!"

Quinn's mouth goes dry. Marley didn't tell her she was pulling this stunt, which means…

… she'll get to hear Marley sing. She'll get an opportunity to watch Marley perform. Which is baffling, considering the only reason she'd performed was because Marley was uncomfortable singing alone.

But yet Marley is there, standing alone in front of everyone, and she's singing.

Holding my breath
Last one I've got left
Till I see you

Quinn forgets to breathe when Marley croons the words into the mike. The audience is equally spellbound, it seems, judging from the hush that falls over the venue.

Sweet sun
Send me the moon
Empty the skies out
Bringing me one step closer to you

She can't believe that the woman standing on stage is Marley Rose, overgrown kid. Marley's stage presence is something else altogether, turning the melancholy ballad into something secret and restrained. Longing.

Unrequited love.

But that doesn't make sense.

Inches away from you
Scared what I'll take from you, darling
I can live with your ghost
If you say that's the most I'll get
Darkness to light
Moved from day into night to be near you
Still here I stand

Marley hasn't looked at Quinn at all as she sings; in contrast, Quinn hasn't taken her eyes off Marley since she started singing.

I am sinking like sand in your sea, sings Marley, as she turns her head and meets Quinn's eyes.

I will breathe in, breathe out
Till you come in and out
Of view

Time stops.

The expression on Marley's face is impossible to read. Then it's gone when she looks away; Quinn blinks, her mouth gone dry.

Marley smiles bashfully when the music stops. "Thank you," she says into the mike, and hops off-stage quickly as applause breaks out. She has no shortage of admirers and praise as she makes her way back to their table, judging by how much she's smiling, and all the "thank you"s she mouths.

"Wow," says Quinn faintly. "That was… you're an amazing performer. Your voice is amazing."

"Thanks," says Marley, ducking her head, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"You didn't tell me you were gonna do that. I thought you didn't like singing alone."

"Surprise?" says Marley, smiling sheepishly. "It was kinda a spur-of-the-moment thing, to double our chances of winning. Hey, sorry, but I'm gonna get a soda, do you want one?"

The abrupt change of subject is Marley's third strike. Quinn forces herself to smile. "Sure."

They don't win.

But they don't lose, either.

"Second place," says Quinn, shaking her head in amazement. She knew there was no way they could've won when the guy after them performed Burning Love in full Elvis regalia, but second place was more than she was expecting.

"That's still a cool fifty bucks each," Marley points out.

"Why are you sharing your prize money with me? You won it."

"We're equal partners on this road trip enterprise. You let me visit my weird tourist traps, I win us some extra prize money to keep us rolling in gummy bears. Also, you're watching Elizabethtown with me, so it all works out." Marley sets up her laptop (a battered thing that Quinn is certain is from the 80s) and boots up the movie.

"I'm sure the second place in a karaoke competition part outweighs everything else. God, Marley; you're so…" Quinn searches for the words. "You're so talented."

"Thank you." She blushes scarlet. "It means a lot to me that you think so."

Quinn remembers, then, the conversation they had earlier that day. "... Marley, do you actually want to major in business?"

Marley stiffens; her teeth show as she presses them into her lower lip. "I… yes, of course; it's a stable line, with plenty of job prospects," she says.

"It is," agrees Quinn, a little unwillingly. Her father had turned up his nose at her prospective majors; he'd only agreed to finance her degree after much persuasion from Judy because he strongly hinted he was expecting her to go to law school afterwards. "But I find it hard to believe you can't be successful in the music industry when you sing like that."

"I love music," says Marley softly. "But my mom and I… we haven't got anything. I'm already straining her resources to breaking point just to pay for college living expenses, even with the full scholarship. I can't possibly risk being penniless and starving, trying to make money from music. That would be selfish of me."

Quinn's mouth twists. She understands, she really does; not everyone can be Rachel Berry, with two loving dads who are comfortably well-off enough to pay for all of Rachel's Broadway dreams; from vocal lessons and music camps as a child, to a fully-financed college degree in musical theater in the most expensive city.

Her own family isn't exactly hurting for money either; Russell not paying her tuition wasn't a matter of his not being able to afford it. The rest of her friends aren't as lucky. Quinn knows that Finn's mom was never around because she worked long hours to keep herself and Finn, before she married Burt. Puck's mom works two jobs to provide for Puck's younger sister (Puck supported himself, no one asked for details).

"I understand," she says very quietly. Marley lifts her head. "This is gonna sound really bad, but I didn't know what true poverty looked like until I dated Sam. I have to admit that I don't know anything about being poor, and it would be really crass of me if I acted like I did, just because I couldn't afford to go to Yale without asking my dad for help. It's not the same thing."

"Quinn, no one's expecting you to know," says Marley. "You have your own problems to be dealing with."

She gives a bitter laugh. "Yeah, my problems, because nobody else was dumb enough to get pregnant. Up until I was sixteen, my life was all planned out: Head Cheerio and Prom Queen, dating the quarterback of the football team. We'd get married after high school and settle down in a nice house. I'd be a real estate agent or something equally respectable until we started a family, then I'd quit to stay home and raise the kids." Quinn's lips curl into a sneer. "And then I got pregnant way too early, by the wrong guy, and I ruined everything."

"It turned out for the best, though," Marley observes quietly. "That wasn't what you wanted."

"Oh, I know. I used to pray to God to make it all go away. I promised Him everything I could think of. My pastor always used to say that everything turns out for the best even when it doesn't look like it 'cause that's just God's plan, but when you're sixteen and alone, living with the guy who knocked you up…" She tips back her head, lets out a soft sigh. "He wasn't even my boyfriend. Never was. God, that's fucked up."

Marley doesn't say or do anything. She watches Quinn with those intense blue eyes. The movie plays, unwatched, in the background.

"I think that was part of the reason I kissed Rachel, actually," Quinn says without opening her eyes.

"Wait, what?"

Quinn laughs. "I'd had the baby and I'd given her up for adoption; I didn't know it was Shelby Corcoran who'd adopted her until much later. You know, she came to talk to me just after I'd given birth, and I thought she was a good person. God, I was so dumb. She wasn't actually concerned for me; she just saw the baby and decided she was her fresh start after she'd failed with Rachel."

"So I was pretty mad at everyone and everything. Rachel got mad too, when she found out what Shelby had done. We kinda bonded over that. And when I started having feelings for Rachel, I decided… well, God isn't listening to me anyway, so fuck it."

Marley shakes her head. "I never thought there would come a day I'd hear religious blasphemy used as a reason for both coming out, and an act of rebellion."

"Yeah, it would've been pretty ironic and messed up if Rachel and I had ended up together," says Quinn. "Thank God we didn't. She's a great friend, but she's kind of intense. And I'm not exactly very easy-going myself. We'd probably have murdered each other within a week."

"I like you just the way you are," says Marley loyally.

"Whatever you say." Quinn pauses and frowns. "Hey, I didn't mean to make this about me. I'm sorry."

"No, it's fine. It's tough sometimes, talking about me. I don't want anybody pitying me, you know?" Marley draws her knees up to her chin.

"I know exactly what you mean."

Marley smiles at her, rubbing the side of her neck. "I knew you'd understand."

Quinn rests her hand over Marley's. "Talk to me."

"Growing up, I can't remember the number of times I saw my mom crying because she couldn't afford to get me things. I had to learn not to want stuff. But then it got worse when I found out my mom wasn't crying because she couldn't spoil me, but because we didn't have enough to make ends meet. There was even one time we lost our house."

Quinn's eyes widen.

"Before Wichita Falls, we lived in this small town in Texas, where I was born. We were struggling real hard after my dad died but I was too young to remember any of it. I do remember, though, Mom crying hard and begging this guy not to throw us out of our home."

Her eyes are turning glassy. Quinn quickly scoots closer and wraps an arm around Marley's shoulder; she promptly rests her head on Quinn.

"Mom told me years later that my dad owed some people a lot of money, but we didn't find out until they came to the funeral to collect. Mom had to sell almost everything we owned to pay it off, and she couldn't make our rent on time. I don't remember much else after that except being hungry a whole lot."

Quinn presses her lips together as she tries not to cry. This simple thing explains so much about Marley; the reason why Marley loves food so much. Why she never turns anything down, for the fear it may not be there later when she needs it. Why she loves big and beautiful mansions, and dreams big yet practical dreams.

"Things started looking up when my mom got offered a job in Wichita Falls. We had to move, but she was so eager to get out of that town and make a fresh start. We didn't have much to pack anyway."

"I'm sorry."

Marley smiles weakly. "So… you see how it is. I love music, but I'm not willing to make a big gamble like that. I have responsibilities."

Quinn gives a wet chuckle. "You make me feel like a sheltered, spoiled brat. I'm not saying that's a bad thing," she interjects before Marley can say anything. "That's a very good thing."

"You don't need to know what it's like. You're going to Yale, for goodness' sake."

"No, that's just… you're so politically incorrect," says Quinn, exasperated.

Marley grins at her, then sticks her tongue out. "You know I'm right."

"I planned this road trip 'cause I wanted more interesting stories about my life. Stories that I could tell people and not feel them judge me.'" Quinn looks down at her hands. "So I could make a fresh start someplace."

"I wanted the same thing when I moved to Lima," says Marley, surprising Quinn. "I didn't wanna be the poor lunchlady kid all over again. You know, when I started high school, my mom sewed designer labels into my clothes so I wouldn't be picked on like in middle school. For my birthday, I'd pick something from a fashion magazine and she'd replicate it."

"That's really sweet." Quinn tries to remember an instance when her mom was doing something motherly – and didn't have a glass in her hand. "My mom and I used to do beauty pageants and debutante balls. We have a display case in the house full of tiaras."

"And that's… totally not weird at all."

Quinn laughs, a full belly laugh. "It really is."

"If you say so," responds Marley, shrugging exaggeratedly, grinning.

Quinn shakes her head. "My dad wants me to go to law school," she blurts out. Quinn wonders what it is about Marley Rose that makes Quinn want to open up. "It was part of the reason he let my mom talk him into paying my college tuition."

Marley regards her carefully. "Do you wanna go to law school?"

"I don't know. I meant what I said the last time, when we were talking about majors; I do wanna major in English or literature, or something along those lines."

"But your dad might not continue paying your college tuition if you defy him," observes Marley.

Quinn nods. "I know I should do what I want. But I'm worried; what if he turns out to be right? What if I don't make it to grad school? What if I do get into grad school, but I can't afford to pay for it? What if I end up jobless with a useless degree?"

From the way Marley's brow furrows, Quinn knows she appreciates how complex this dilemma is; something endlessly hopeful Rachel Berry could never do. "That's kinda the same reason I'm gonna major in business at NYU, not music."

"Yeah." A smile flickers over Quinn's face. "At least he can't kick me out a second time," she jokes weakly.

Marley shakes her head. "That's not funny." She turns her face, hiding it from view in Quinn's shoulder.

"Sorry. You're right. It's not funny." Her fingers find the end of Marley's braid and start twisting the ends around her fingers.

"I believe in you, Quinn. I know we've only barely started to get to know one another, but I don't see you failing to do anything you set your mind to." Marley sits up so she can look Quinn in the eye. "We're gonna be just fine, both of us."

"You're so ridiculously optimistic." But it's said with a smile.

"Hey, if you're down, there's nowhere else to go but up, right?" Marley pokes Quinn's cheek softly. "Enough serious talk for tonight, okay?" She leans over to restart the movie. "We're gonna watch Elizabethtown, and maybe later when I've lulled you into a false sense of security, you'll tell me your favorite movie."

"You wish," says Quinn, smiling. In spite of everything, some of her anxiety does ebb away… save for the strange certainty she feels whenever she thinks about Marley, and the future.

In the past, whenever she pictured her future self, she's content, living in a vaguely nice home with some faceless person. That's never worried Quinn before; dating hasn't been a major part of her life recently, because her chances of finding someone in Lima are virtually non-existent.

But the past few days have been full of Marley, and she's made herself a part of Quinn's life so seamlessly. Now, when Quinn tries to imagine her future, it's much more tangible; visiting New York, Marley waiting for her at Grand Central. Walking in the lush Yale campus, showing Marley around. She even sees them spending the rest of the summer together in Lima. And all of this doesn't scare Quinn at all.

It's alarming, how Marley's gone from an acquaintance to a part of everything within such a short span of time. And Quinn thinks…

… this crush she has? May not be just a crush anymore.

The realization is staggering.

She's never felt like this before. She never thought she could feel like this before, with someone who sees Quinn for who she is; no more, no less. The one who challenges her, pushes her out of her comfort zone with a smile. The one who seems to always understand and tolerate all her flaws, and to make her want to be better.

Quinn can see herself falling in love with a girl like Marley.

And the worst part?

She probably already has.

End Notes: The songs used in this chapter are Falling Slowly by Glen Hansard and Markéta Irglová from the movie Once, and Send Me the Moon by Sara Bareilles.