To northstar61, who inspired the parts she will recognize.
I.
Rachel leaves Professor Flavia's Biology exam with a sense of dread, praying to whoever will listen not to punish her twice.
Playing hooky from studying yesterday shouldn't cost her both Jesse and her future at NYU.
Life can't be that cruel.
She visibly startles when someone comes up behind her and covers both her eyes with their hands. Hope flutters within her – Jesse? – but the difference in height and smell alerts her sooner rather than later that it's Sawyer who is behind her.
She can't even pretend to be shocked.
"Surprise!" he says excitedly, finally dropping his hands and coming around to face her. "Wasn't that exam a bitch?"
She nods sadly, but he doesn't seem to notice, or care about, her diminished spirit.
"So, birthday girl, where are we going to celebrate?"
She tries to get out of it, but her excuses fall on his intentionally deaf ears. It's her 18th birthday, all her finals are over, her "boyfriend" is at work, and it's Sawyer's birthday, too. Really, what excuse does she have?
A 'Shroom burger and a Fair Shake are enough in line with her initial plans to drown her sorrows in junk food that she goes along with Sawyer's Shake Shack suggestion, agreeing without too much protest to allow him to pay for her food, too.
When there are no empty tables, he makes the predictable suggestion of heading back to his penthouse apartment around the block to continue the afternoon with a movie. She knows it's a bad idea, especially when one of his selling points is a brand new cappuccino machine his parents have gifted him for his birthday, but, again, it's her birthday, her "boyfriend" is ignoring her and sleeping with someone else, and, given the craziness of her life, she just wants to have a little fun.
And it is fun. Sawyer is blessed with the natural gift of superficiality – he can talk to anyone about anything. Seriously, they manage to talk for twenty minutes about Professor Flavia's pseudo-European accent, and he tells her about going to dance camp when he was eight when she mentions that she is going to be on Broadway someday. In his defense, it is sort of related.
Once the movie starts and they're sitting on the couch, she can tell that he's contemplating exactly how to make his move. He finally decides on allowing the arm around her shoulders to fall to her hip, and allowing his knuckles to graze her sides every four seconds.
She can practically hear him counting.
When she turns to him to at last acknowledge what he's doing, he swallows guiltily. "I really like you, and I won't tell anyone."
Those words surprise her more than anything else that's happening right now. She's been so much in her own head; she has forgotten what this must look like from his point of view.
That's the danger of a charade – sometimes it works.
But, technically, she's unattached, a free agent, and Anna's words are echoing in her head. What will she do after Jesse is no longer in her life? She refuses to go back to being the social pariah she was before, and having Sawyer Paul as a boyfriend will help things in that department considerably.
Plus, she almost wants to do this. She wants to prove to herself that getting over Jesse is possible. She wants to prove that she doesn't have to pay someone to pay attention to her.
She can do this.
She can.
He starts thrusting his tongue into her mouth almost immediately, and if he weren't such a bad kisser, she thinks regretfully, things might have actually gone somewhere between them.
She's actually sad when she unconsciously, but determinedly, pulls away, because she realizes it's going to be a long time before she gets over Jesse enough to be willing to let someone else into her life.
She furtively wipes his spit from the side of her jaw and then onto her jeans, not meeting his eyes.
"I'm really sorry," she apologizes, "I want to … it's just…"
She trails off because anything she says now will be a lie. She does want to - in the logical, practical sense – but in the emotional sense everything is too raw, too new, too hurt.
He kisses her again, and there's less of his tongue this time. Better, but still not what, not who, she wants.
"Call me when you're free of him," he tells her as she gathers her stuff and rushes to the door.
She nods at him as they face each other at his door.
Then the door closes, and she can finally breathe.
II.
She feels numb as she gets into the elevator and leaves Sawyer's building, almost jumps out of her skin when his doorman wishes her a "Good day."
She can't tell whether it's the guilt or the greasy burger still sitting heavy in her stomach that is making her feel nauseous, but she ignores her symptoms and heads to the gym anyway.
It vaguely occurs to her that she's punishing herself when she refuses to allow herself to stop running at full speed, though her calves are screaming for mercy by her tenth minute on the treadmill
The pain works really well at drowning out the thoughts in her head.
Because what is she supposed to do now? Come tomorrow, she and Jesse are over, and she has no idea how she is going to fill the void.
He doesn't think she's worth it anymore.
That's the thought that is playing on endless loop in her head right now. He's the one – her perfect ten – he knows everything about her, and she always thought that he would love all of the parts she hated most about herself. And he had. She is convinced he had appreciated her drive, her underhandedness when it came to show choir and competition, but somehow during this experiment he had seen a part of her he didn't like.
Somewhere along the way, she had lost him, and she doesn't know how to get him back.
She breathes a sigh of relief when the girls' locker rooms are empty, because she doesn't want to deal with anyone right now.
She takes a long shower, contemplates whether if she goes to bed now she can forget the fact that her 18th birthday ever existed.
Clad only in her towel, she makes her way back to her locker to find that her peace and solitude have been disturbed by none other than Autumn, who is in the locker room getting changed into her workout clothes.
Maybe life really is that cruel.
"Rachel!" the other girl states nervously. "What are you doing here?"
"It's a gym," Rachel states in a mean-sounding tone, "I went running, I showered, now I'm getting dressed."
"Right," Autumn concurs, "I just thought you would have plans tonight. Jesse told me it was your birthday. Happy birthday, by the way," the redhead finishes meekly.
"You talked to Jesse today?" Rachel questions, sounding suspicious.
Autumn blanches, starts crossing her arms and shuffling her feet. "Yes … no …, not really I guess. I invited all the Romeo & Juliet cast over to my dorm because BBC is marathoning the miniseries tonight, but no one was really interested. Most people didn't respond to my invite," she continues self-deprecatingly, "But Jesse texted me and said he was working tonight, plus it was your birthday. I just figured you guys would have plans…."
Autumn seems oblivious to Rachel's lack of response, or the confusion her words have caused. She continues her nervous monologue. "I thought I would come watch it on the television here so at least I wouldn't be by myself, but it doesn't seem like anyone is here, either. I guess everyone else has a life…"
Standing in front of her, hearing this self-conscious rant, Rachel is now able to recognize the insecurity in Autumn she hadn't been able to see before, through the lens of her jealousy about Jesse. It's the same type of insecurity or desperation that had urged her to pay Jesse to be her boyfriend.
If that is so, it dawns on Rachel, then it's quite possible that Jesse has never touched Autumn. The girl obviously hadn't had the benefit of being the focus of Jesse St. James' attention.
Rachel dresses quickly, and leaves the locker room without saying too much to the other girl, even after Autumn wishes her good luck with exams and tells her to say "hi" to Jesse for her.
If she were a bigger person, Rachel thinks, she would assure Autumn that she was pretty, that she was talented, that college girls sucked and everyone felt alone at some time or another.
What had Jesse told her that first night? The night she had first asked him to be her boyfriend?
"It will get better, Rach. Everyone sets out to prove themself in New York so they act like assholes. Just give it time and remember that you're still better than them."
But she doesn't say any of this to Autumn. She does fight tears on the way home, hating herself for jumping to conclusions, and for jumping into things with Sawyer.
Yet, even if she was wrong about Jesse and Autumn, that means that Jesse has no excuses for not wanting to be with her. She has no excuses to explain why he doesn't want to be with her.
He just doesn't think she's worth it, doesn't want her, doesn't want to be with her.
If possible, as she leaves the gym, Rachel feels even worse than she did before.
III.
To top off her amazing day, Mitra is home.
Rachel doesn't want to explain why it's her birthday, finals are over, and she's not off celebrating with her boyfriend, so she says nothing to her roommate as she toes off her boots and falls face-first onto her bed, her freshly-washed hair on its way to drying into unkempt blobs.
The sharp corner of a parchment envelope resting on her pillow jabs her in the nose on the way down.
The envelope has her name on it, written in beautiful calligraphy.
She turns over and addresses her roommate. "Did you leave this here?"
Mitra shakes her head, pointing to her 'Happy Birthday' message to Rachel on the whiteboard they share, which had been the only acknowledgement she had made of Rachel's birthday thus far.
This time, it is Jesse.
Letter of Resignation
Dear Rachel,
I write to inform you that I am resigning from my current position, effective immediately.
Thank you for the opportunities and experiences you have provided me during the last few months. I have enjoyed my tenure with you, so much so that I realize that this could never be a simple acting exercise for me.
I want you, Rachel, and I must have the real thing.
This may be quite surprising to you, but I know in my heart this is the only right decision, and I can only pray that you feel the same way.
I have loved every moment of being with you, and I do hope our paths cross again in the near future.
Forever yours,
Jesse St. James
P.S. Starbucks closes at 10pm tonight.
She reads the letter twice in disbelief, to ensure that she's not seeing things, and to convince herself that it doesn't end at the first paragraph, which had caused her heart to stop when she had read it the first time.
She looks at the clock by her bedside, 9:50pm, and immediately jumps out of bed.
IV.
With everyone out celebrating the end of finals or studying for finals yet to come, Jesse's Starbucks is a dead zone. By 10:20, he's already stacked the chairs, swept the floors, and even reorganized the spice rack. He can think of no more tasks with which to distract himself from the fact that Rachel hasn't come.
He knows for a fact that she had gotten his message – he had had Mitra text him to let him know that Rachel had seen the letter before the girl had headed to the library to study for her final exam.
He can't bring himself to call her and confirm that she's not coming, so as he closes the shutters on all but one window, he decides to give her until 10:30 before he heads home.
He's leaning against the doorway, ready to leave in his coat and scarf, cursing the plan that had seemed so brilliant and ingenious when he had come up with it this afternoon, when he hears what sounds like high heels sprinting down the sidewalk.
Rachel is a mid-December contradiction in a pea coat, strappy sandals and bare legs, no hat, no scarf, hands bare, and curls flying.
It doesn't seem to matter when she runs straight into his arms.
"I'm so glad you're still here!" she states anxiously. "I didn't want you to think that I wasn't coming!"
"Could you blame me? It's almost 10:30, Rach," he chides her gently, kissing the top of her head. "And Rachel Berry is never late."
"I know," she states glumly, "But you have no idea how long this dress takes to button up, my hair was an absolute disaster, and my curling iron takes 15 minutes to heat up to its optimum temperature."
"I got here as soon as I could," she states so solemnly that it makes him laugh.
"I would have taken you in whatever state you were in," he tells her. "Way to make a guy sweat after bearing his soul to you."
She pushes out of his embrace, peers up at him with bright eyes. "I wanted tonight to be perfect. Because this is it. Right? I read your letter correctly? I'm not making this up? You want to be with me just as badly as I want to be with you? For real?"
He nods at her line of questions, leans down to brush his nose against hers. "Yes. Thank God you feel the same way."
She slaps him on the arm as he snakes it around her waist again. "Could I have been any more obvious?" she asks exasperatedly.
"Okay, okay," he states with a laugh, "Looking back, maybe there were some obvious moments, but there was Finn and then that Sawyer guy was obviously after you, and I didn't want to go through all that drama again, but, after last night, I needed to know."
At the mention of Sawyer's name, Rachel stiffens, though Jesse doesn't seem to notice. In all the excitement of Jesse's letter and getting dressed to meet him, she had completely forgotten about how she had spent her afternoon.
She covers his lips with two of her fingers, silencing him. "I don't want to talk about the past anymore. I'm freezing, and I want to go back to your place so that I can show you how I've felt for the past two months."
"A tempting offer," he teases her, "And one that I will definitely take you up on, but you need to remember one thing, Rach. You're not the boss of me anymore. I'm pretty sure that I resigned today, effectively immediately."
The smile that escapes her is huge. "Okay," she agrees. "What do you have planned?"
He pulls her by the arm back into the coffeeshop and flips the light switch so that she can see the table he has laid out for them, complete with cupcakes and a sparkly gift bag.
"Happy Birthday," he whispers directly into her ear. "And don't worry, we'll still explore your penchant for bossing me around, only we'll do it in the bedroom."
He leaves her side to light the sparkler candles that outfit the cupcakes, and everything is so perfect she starts to tear up.
"Make a wish," he instructs her, blowing out the match.
Instead of closing her eyes as he expects, she turns to him. "I don't need a wish," she states seriously. "I just…"
He's looking at her expectantly, and it isn't until she reaches up to run her fingers through his hair that he realizes that despite everything that's happened tonight, he still hasn't kissed her yet.
Duh.
They've kissed in the last few months, obviously, but not when they were both on the same page about being completely in love with each other.
Come to think of it, he hasn't said that, either.
Rachel Berry deserves epic romance.
He steps towards her, and, for some reason, it feels like his first kiss all over again.
It's chaste at first, but he gently eases his tongue into her mouth, which he knows she appreciates, and is rewarded by that little moan she makes that never fails to get his blood flowing southward.
"I love you," she whispers as they break the kiss, and he thinks he loves her even more for being the first one to say it, for not leaving it all up to him.
"I love you too," he repeats, feeling slightly panicked until he reminds himself that she's already said it, and he can now put his doubts of the last few months to rest.
It still feels like a dream. She loves him too, and there are no more secrets between them.
"Now can we go back to your place?" she jokes, reaching over to blow out the candles without much fanfare, swiping her finger through some of the icing.
"There's still more," he tells her, feeling almost reluctant as she makes an obvious show of licking the icing off of her pinky.
Tease.
"There can't possibly be more," she tells him, and he grins at the obvious happiness and contentment in her voice.
He reaches for the shopping bag and loops it around her wrist. "I hope you like it. Happy Birthday!"
She gasps when she sees the distinctive blue box, but that's nothing compared to her reaction when she opens it and sees the bracelet for the first time.
"Wow," she says breathlessly, before she looks up at him, confused. "Are these real? But Jesse, how can you afford this? This must have cost …"
"Around $1200 dollars? Just about. Since you were paying for something you already had, I figured this would be a much better investment."
She's still staring in amazement at the bracelet when he frees it from the box and fastens it around her wrist.
"Gorgeous," he compliments her, interlocking her fingers with his, and kissing her on the lips. "I've always wanted to buy you your first diamonds. Technically, you paid for them, but one day I will remedy that, I promise."
He stands and grabs the box of cupcakes. "Now we can go."
V.
They hail a cab so that they don't have to wait for the bus, and so they can make out in the back seat.
When they finally make it inside his apartment, they stare at each other for a long time.
"This shouldn't feel as different as it does," she babbles. "We've done this so many times. I mean, okay, technically we haven't done it, but it feels … different."
She's talking to him as she unbuttons her coat, and he doesn't seem to realize that she's expecting a response.
"Earth to Jesse!"
He literally shakes his head to clear his thoughts, and then grins lecherously at her. "Sorry – but I don't think you realize how captivating you are in that dress."
She smiles. "I was thinking about you when I chose it," she confesses in a sexy voice, turning her back to him. "It has all these buttons down the back. I thought you would have fun with them." She punctuates her sentence with a wiggle of her butt, which draws his attention to where the buttons end.
She giggles as he grabs her around the waist and pulls her down into his lap as he's sitting on the bed, grinding himself into her back. "Now I can't decide whether I want you to keep the dress on."
"Hmm," she mock sighs, trailing her fingertips up his arm as he holds her. "Part of the reason I was late was that it took me such a long time to figure out what to wear for you under the dress." She tilts her head. "But whatever you want…"
She smirks to herself as she feels him start prying at the buttons, cursing as each one doesn't give way as readily as he wants it to.
"This dress is going to be the death of me," he complains, resting his forehead against the back of her neck as he trails his fingertips and then his lips tantalizingly across the bits of her spine that become exposed.
When he's through with the last button, she stands up and shimmies out of the dress, leaving her in a black lace strapless bra and matching thong.
She looks over her shoulder to see exactly the expression of dazed wonder that she had been going for.
"I didn't even know you owned a thong," he tells her, reaching to unclasp the bra, flinging it uncaringly across the room so that her breasts are exposed to his greedy hands.
"They're not very comfortable," she admits, "But I didn't think that I would be wearing this one for very long."
He growls and spins her around so that she is facing him, and one of his hands leaves her breasts to caress her exposed butt, so that it doesn't want for attention though it's now hidden from his sight.
"It's different," he tells her, picking up the thread of their conversation from earlier, "Because I'm not holding back anymore. There were things I wouldn't do because I thought they would be too obvious. But, after tonight, you will have no doubt how I feel about you."
The gravity with which he says it leaves no uncertainly in her mind she's in for one of the best nights of her life.
He starts by kissing the spot just under the waistband of her panties while he rolls them down her legs. Then he moves lower, kissing down to right above where she needs him, gripping her butt in a way that makes her gasp.
He's not going straight for her clit as he normally would. He's taking his time, being much more intimate in touching every inch of her, in a way that he hadn't allowed himself to before.
He was right; she has no doubt how he feels about her now.
She stands waiting patiently, completely lost in heightened sensation, as he undresses himself, and goes willingly once he leads her to lie down on the bed.
It feels amazing, she thinks as he makes himself comfortable next to her, to finally give up even the semblance of being in control.
She wants to show him how she feels, too, so she reaches down to grasp him firmly in her hand, stroking him lightly as he inches his fingers towards the sweet spot between her legs.
He delves inside and she instinctively grips him harder, which causes him to swear.
So much for taking it slow.
She feels him pull his hand away, so she does too, opening her eyes, trusting implicitly, and awaiting direction.
He sits up in the bed, draws her into his lap so that she is sitting facing him, eye to eye. His arms are around her back and her knees are snug against his shoulder blades.
She didn't think it was possible to be this close to another person.
He reaches up and tangles his hands in her hair; kissing every part of her he can reach. "Is this okay?" he asks softly, "I want you like this."
She nods, understanding instinctively that he wants them closer, in every sense of the word: looking at each other, feeling each other, taking care of each other.
For the past two months, they've been physically together but still emotionally separate. Now he's leaving no room for doubt that they're irrevocably joined.
Literally.
She wouldn't have it any other way.
The position takes some getting used to, but she really likes everything about it once they get going. She likes that she feels safe and cocooned in his arms, but that she can call the shots; that they can kiss and talk and still be having sex all at the same time.
As he runs his finger under the bracelet she still has on, she decides to herself that this might just be the best birthday ever.
VI.
The next afternoon, he has to go back to work, but they take the long way, walking hand in hand, with him kissing her goodbye on the steps of her dorm, just like she had charted out in what now seems like a lifetime ago.
She smiles to herself as she watches him walk away. It's all perfect, and all 100% true. No need for charades anymore.
Mitra is in their room with a group of her, and now Rachel's, girlfriends, all excitedly pouring over something on the computer.
Mitra smiles at Rachel as she walks in.
"Hey girls, make way for my slut of a roommate."
For those wondering, there should be 2 chapters left in this story.