One of the shorter chapters, but trust me, it's worth it. : )

I have no idea where I am or where I'm going. When I got into Shannon's car, my vision was blurred with angry tears, and in my haste to leave the girl who had just ripped out my still-beating heart, I hadn't paid any attention to which direction I'd taken off in, or how fast I was driving. Now, as I look down at the speedometer and notice I'm going twenty miles over the speed limit, I finally slow down and ease into the parking lot of a gas station that's clearly seen its fairer times.

After the car glides to a halt, I rip the keys from the ignition and pull my knees up to my chest in an attempt to hold myself together. Sobs tear through my lungs, my heart shattering all over again as I remember Sylvester's cruel words.

"Love her and leave her, just like the rest," she'd snorted. "We've done this before. It's a run-of-the-mill job."

Liquid tendrils of emotion trek their way down my cheeks as I remember the way Rachel's deafening silence had spoken volumes, as if she was actually contemplating her sadistic coach's logic. That's what had hurt the most… The way she hadn't stood up and fought for what we had. Or, at least, what I'd thought we had. I slam my fist against the dashboard, smashing the brand new XM Satellite Radio receiver Shannon bought with her cut of the purse winnings from my last victory. She'll be pissed when she finds out I broke her new toy, but right now, I honestly don't give a damn. My soul is breaking, and there's no price tag on that. Although, for Rachel and Sue, the price must be five thousand dollars, a blue ribbon, and a grainy picture in the local paper.

In the midst of my self-pity party, my cell phone vibrates in the cupholder next to me. I paw at the tears beneath my eyes and pick it up to look at the ID on the text message.

Rachel. Of course.

I consider turning the phone off and going back to wallowing in the cruel ways of the world, but a small nagging part of me flashes back to the way she'd grinned at me after our first kiss, or the way she'd let me hold her as we danced under the glow of the moon. Before I can talk myself out of it, I tap the screen and open the message.

Quinn,

I called Shannon, and she said you hadn't come home, so rather than wait, I'll simply type what I need to say.

I don't expect you to forgive me for what Sue and I planned to do to you. If the situation were reversed, I wouldn't even consider it. But there is one thing you need to know.

It was real. The laughter, the affection, the kisses, the plans for a future with you… It was all real. I stopped playing Sue's ridiculous game the minute I sang to you in Rosalita's that night. I fell hard for you… And when you saw me today, I was about to tell Sylvester to shove it. I don't want to win if I can't have you, Quinn.

There's no way I can express all that I feel in a text message… So I'd like to let you hear me say it. Meet me at Breadsticks in an hour… if there's any chance at fixing this.

Rachel

A watery smile spreads across my lips as I read the message a second time, and a third. The anger and pain that had stabbed at my chest only moments ago is gone… And the butterflies I've had for Rachel since my hazel eyes met hers fall back into the pit of my stomach. There is, however, a piece of me that does not trust her, and I know deep down that it will take time for her to earn my confidence again. But as someone who's lived her life based on the opportunity of a second chance, I'm more than willing to let her try. I place the key back into the ignition to send the car roaring to life again. Pulling out of the parking lot and onto the highway, I push the gas pedal to the floor and head for Breadsticks at breakneck speed. I don't realize I haven't replied until I'm about ten minutes into my drive, and I pick up my RAZR Maxx to tap out a fast and short reply.

I don't notice the red traffic light up ahead. And I don't notice the eighteen wheel tractor-trailer roaring toward the intersection I'm about to speed through.

Just as my thumb hovers above the send button, a bright light floods the car, and the sound of the MACK truck's horn nearly pops my eardrums. I hurriedly tap the screen and grip the wheel with both hands in an attempt to avoid collision. But when I turn my head and stare out of the driver's side window, I know it is too late. Staring into the face of certain death itself, all the sound in my world gives way to the beep of my cell phone that signifies my sent text message.

on my way


on my way

Rachel shifts in her seat in an effort to escape the air vent that blows right on her head. Closing the text message from Quinn, she keeps her red and puffy eyes trained on the front door, hoping that a cowboy hat covering a small shock of blonde hair will dip into the restaurant. The crowd at Breadsticks is starting to thin out, and after the fourth time the elderly waitress asks her if she's ready to order, she shakes her head, rises from the booth, and heads for the exit.

As she pushes her way outside into the warm dusk air, the iPhone in the kangaroo pouch of her hoodie vibrates once more. Wiping her eyes with the sleeve of the sweatshirt, Rachel fumbles for her phone. She is puzzled when she recognizes Shannon Beiste's caller ID. She slides the icon across the screen to answer, her eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

"Hello?"

Rachel Berry's world falls out from under her as Shannon's hoarse, pain-stricken voice comes through her phone's speaker.

"Rachel… There's been an accident."