Chapter Twenty-One: The One With Plane Tickets

XXI: What would you do if my heart was torn in two? More than words to show me how you feel, that your love for me is real.

Quinn inhales deeply, preparing herself mentally for the battle she's about to endure. She tries to force the anger and despair away, tries to forget how Jesse obliterated everything she had been working up to. She had wanted to tell Sam about her and Puck later on, when they had a quiet moment and it felt right. She was waiting for the right moment.

The problem is, what she had been beginning to realise, is that perhaps there isn't a right moment. Maybe there are no alarm bells, no serene sign or quiet moment. Maybe there would have never been a time to tell Sam, and it would have always been a disaster that fumbled its way out of her hands.

If only she hadn't lied when he had asked about Beth's father. Why did she lie? The question comes back to haunt her, and because she likes to avoid problems, she's ignored it till now. Why did she bother lying to Sam, and about such an incredibly important part of her life? She told him she dated Puck, why hadn't she just explained the extent of it?

She wonders if it's because she was afraid of losing him. The problem is – she's not sure which 'him' she means by that.

"Quinn, I'm sorry about Jesse," Rachel puts a hand on her arm, startling Quinn from her thoughts. She appears genuinely apologetic, and a little embarrassed, by the whole situation. Quinn knows her friend, and she knows such a blunder is mortifying for the woman.

She shakes her head, "It's not your fault. Don't worry about it," Quinn sighs, eyes falling on the door handle to her room. "It would have come about eventually."

"Yeah, but this was, like, the worst way…" Rachel says, eyes whipping around the room to prove her point.

"I know that. Believe me, I know that, you don't have to tell me."

"Sorry. Just be honest with him, okay? He's good to you, Quinn. Maybe you should listen to what he has to say." She turns to leave, but is clearly hesitating to say something. Quinn thinks wryly that it must be a first. Rachel opens her mouth, begins with a number of words, and then finally settles on, "If you're not 100% in, Quinn, it's not fair to keep dragging Sam along. He's one of the good ones, and he doesn't deserve 50% of you, when someone else is getting the other 50."

She leaves before Quinn can tell her where to shove her advice. Who does Rachel Berry, of all people, think she is to give Quinn that advice? She's kidding herself if she thinks Jesse is long-term, the man can only think outside himself for seven seconds at a time. Quinn bets he's even selfish in the sack.

What does Rachel even know of her and Sam's relationship? They love each other. Yes, love, and if she can't understand it – well… Well, she'll just have to deal with that.

Quinn opens the door abruptly then, pressing it closed quickly behind her. She leans against it, observing Sam for a minute. He knows she's in the room, but hasn't acknowledged her presence. He's looking at the various pictures on her wall and one in particular. It's the one of her, Beth and Puck.

Quinn knows she should say something had this point. She should offer some sort of apology or explanation – but what on earth can she say?

"You know, I should have seen it. I looked at this photo and thought 'wow, Puck is such a great guy – not many other 16 year old males would stay with a girl pregnant. A girl pregnant with another man's child, at that.' What an idiot. God, I'm an idiot." He curses softly, his head hanging. The room is silent. Her head is spinning. Words still won't come to her, and she knows this moment is important. This is the one moment she'll look back on and say – that's the moment everything began. That's the moment everything ended.

What she says here is so important – so why can't she say anything?

He stands, and Quinn flinches back a little at the devastation in his expression, "I just don't see why you'd lie to me Quinn, unless there's a reason. I thought you were distant because you're a reserved person, but no.." He laughs, and it scares her, because it's nothing like his warm timbre. It's harsh. It's mocking. It's not Sam. "You're in love with him, aren't you?"

Quinn blinks, having not expected that. Where are her words?

"You can't even answer me, can you? I'm so stupid.. I can't believe I thought… I actually thought you.. ." He lets out a strangled, frustrated noise.

"I'm sorry." The words finally come to her in a soft whisper. He barely glances at her. "But that's not true. I gave you everything I had. I had let you in… I—I was myself, and all of myself, with you. I don't do that with anyone!" More lies. It's not a great pattern she's creating.

Sam shakes his head, "How am I supposed to believe anything you say? I want to believe you, Quinn, I really do." He comes up to her, grabbing her hands, "Please, make me believe you. I love you. I love you from the tips of your toes, to your pretty head. Can you please just tell me the truth? Just tell me the truth."

She looks into his eyes. They're blue. So unlike what she's used to, but so sincere in their plain and beautiful colour. Unlike most people, Sam Evans has no flecks of darker colours, no bits of green; his eyes are a perfect shade of light blue. He's so sincere. He's so good.

Tears pooling in her eyes, Quinn tries to verbalise. "I… I'm not an emotional person."

"I know that." He responds, seeming a little crestfallen. "I just want the truth, Quinn."

Her eyes flicker away from his, then back again, "You're all I've ever wanted in a partner, without even knowing it."

The grasp on her hands is tighter then. Quinn knows what he's waiting for, the words that have been threatening to spill over her lips for a few weeks now, the feelings that creep up on her at the oddest moments. When he winks at her; the way he always holds her jacket out for her when they go somewhere; how he sings so completely genuinely; when he tells her she's beautiful.

"Sam, I love you."

It's seems the breath leaves both their lungs at that moment. In a matter of seconds, Sam pulls her into her arms. As he holds her tightly, she breathes in his scent.

She feels safe. It's nice.

The cold turkey Christmas leaves you with is never fun – and he doesn't just mean literally. The high that the holiday gives you; people constantly around, presents and food everywhere, drinks and songs all the time, how could someone not miss that? The leftover food is, actually, quite nice.

Finn is struggling particularly badly when it's back to school time. The return to grading homework, bickering teenagers and rebellious students isn't exactly a nice welcome. He sits today after school in their regular coffee shop, sipping slowly on a hot coffee. Brittany finishes a customer order and comes to sit across from him.

"Don't look so down Finn, it's time to get your resolutions in order!" Her cheerfulness is contagious, and Finn feels himself return her smile.

"Well, I haven't really got one at the moment." He wants to say that he resolves to get Rachel back; to break up her dreadful relationship; to expose Jesse as an annoying fraud.

"You should resolve to get Rachel back," Brittany replies coyly, taking a sip of her coffee. He splutters a little, and she laughs. "I knew it was true."

"It's not. What about you? Are you off the market now? Santana got her claws in?"

Brittany shrugs a shoulder, "It's kind of undefined. But Santana's like my lobster."

There's a small pause. "I'm sorry, she's your what?"

"Lobster," Brittany replies, as if that's the most obvious answer in the world. She shakes her head at Finn, "Sometimes, I wonder how you even teach, Finn."

"I teach English."

"Yo, Brit, can I have a coffee please? I'd get it myself, but I'm beat," Puck says, collapsing onto the sofa. "I just got off a 12 hour shift from work. Dying for sleep."

"Why aren't you at home then?" Finn asks, restraining himself from saying that Pucks job is easy. He always does this, waltzes in at the same time as Finn, proclaims about his exhaustion, but Finn thinks he has it handy. He works in a bar. Finn has seen the clientele there – Puck is in his element.

"Excuse me for being sociable. So, what's up?"

Finn smiles, "Well, Brittany was just telling me about how Santana is her lobster. Whatever the hell that means."

Puck furrows his brows in confusion, "Her what?"

"Exactly my response." He looks to Brittany, who is still retrieving Puck's coffee, and shrugs. It's sometimes better not to ask these things. After so many years around Brittany, you learn when to ask and when not to.

"Well, she did reject that Artie guy for a date. Must be semi-serious. "

"Or, you know, she likes girls," Finn says, rolling his eyes at Puck. All of them don't really question Brittany and Santana on their bewildering relationship, friendship, whatever it is. It hurts Finn's head to think about, and is just another argument waiting to happen, so he stays out. He's much more preoccupied with Rachel. He knows he loves her – he's at least come to terms with that.

Coming to terms with the fact that he might never be able to tell her is taking a little longer.

It's not like he can talk to anyone about it. He tells Kurt and it goes straight to Quinn. Puck would never understand. The girls would definitely, unquestionably mention it to Rachel, or try to force something.

He thought they were Ross and Rachel.

It seems like he was wrong, but nothing is right anymore. Everything he predicted and planned has fallen sideways, and he's not sure that it's for the best. He's biased in that he'll never think Jesse is the best for Rachel. How could he understand that she doesn't sip honey and tea before a show for the effects on her throat, but because she loves honey, and it's the only time she can drink a jar and not feel guilty. How could he understand that she isn't hard as nails, that she is innocent and fragile, that she's fun and controlling all at once – how could he understand her like Finn?

"Finn?" Brittany waves her hand in his face. "Come back to us."

He smiles sheepishly, about to reply, when Kurt breezes into the café. Throwing his bag carelessly beside Finn, he smiles widely, "I got class rep! I'll be the class rep for the next year!" He eagerly shoves the flyer in his hands that officially announces it, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Finn hasn't seen him so elated in such a long time.

Lately, since the accident, Kurt's been rather down. The guilt eats at him, knowing the accident must be the cause – it has to be Finn's fault. What other reason would there be? He tries to compensate, tries to make up for the pain he caused his brother, but Kurt is so unresponsive to it. Seeing him this happy is a relief to Finn.

"That's great, Kurt!" He replies, genuinely meaning it.

Puck nods, "Good job, man."

Brittany jumps up and hugs him, throwing her arms around him haphazardly. They both jump around then, causing quite the scene. Brittany's manager approaches then. "Um, Brittany, if you don't mind, could you please stop that? We don't want another scene on our hands."

He is, of course, referring to the time that Puck bet Brittany she couldn't dance on the table as well as she could dance on the floor. He lost.

Although, it's quite difficult to tell who really lost that bet.

They all settle down, Kurt quite sheepish, and Brittany rushes off to take some more orders. When she leaves, Puck grimaces, "This is tea. How hard is it to get a cup of coffee?"

Kurt plucks the cup from his hands, "Stop being such a moaner. I'll take it, I love tea."

"You would."

"What does that even mean?" Kurt asks, throwing his friend an exasperated glance. "Anyway, so I had lunch with Santana today, she is so not happy about Artie asking Brittany out. It was so weird – she didn't freak out or anything, because that would be, quite frankly, ridiculous. At the same time though, she didn't laugh it off like a normal person, she got all quiet, you know? Which is so unusual for Santana. I'm not sure what was running throu—"

"Kelly, let me stop you right there. Look around. No one here cares."

Finn looks at Puck warningly, who barely acknowledges it, and says delicately, "Maybe Quinn would better for this."

Kurt huffs, leaning back in his chair, "You pair are useless. Speaking of, I'm moving out of the apartment at the end of the month."

At this, Finn chokes on his coffee, not for the first time today. He grabs a tissue and cleans himself up a bit, conscious of Puck patting his back harshly. He glares at him. Puck holds his hands up in defence, and then turns to Kurt.

"What do you mean you're moving out?"

"I'm moving in with some college friends, I want to be closer to campus."

"You are close to campus!" Finn replies, worried about why this has transpired. Has Kurt got that much harboured resentment for Finn?

The other boy sighs, appearing apologetic and regretful. "It's nothing to do with you guys. You're great roommates. I just… I need some independence. I've been living with you since I arrived in New York, Finn. All my friends were yours originally. I need you make my own space, you know?"

Strangely enough, he does know. He understands where Kurt is coming from, and that's why he purses his lips for a moment, and congratulates him, "I guess a party is in order! We're gonna miss you, bro."

Puck pouts, "I never agreed to this. How on earth will we find another roomie?"

"I'm sorry about that, too, but I'll help you find someone else if you like?"

Reluctantly, Noah Puckerman relents, "Fine. But we better get invited to plenty of college parties in return. Your new pad is gonna be our new hangout."

Kurt snorts, "Yeah, right. As if I'm letting you near any of my college friends."

"Any more." Puck amends, a satisfied grin on his face. He is way too proud of his conquests, Finn thinks.

At Pucks insistent stare, Kurt finally agrees, "Fine, any more. You manwhore."

As January comes to a close, and her bank accounts emptiness comes to an end, Rachel can't help but feel upbeat. January is always the worst month of the year. The lack of money, the lack of spirit, the forced – and ultimately failed – resolutions, they all make January so bleak.

This year, for the first time in so many, she at least has a boyfriend to lean on throughout it. She smiles at that thought alone, and skips along to where she's meeting Jesse for dinner. With their paychecks finally in their respective accounts, they decided to treat themselves. They're going to properly wine and dine tonight.

She had insisted they meet at the restaurant, choosing to avoid all that awkward chatter between her roommates and her boyfriend. It's fair to say that none of them look at him too kindly anymore. She defends his actions on New Years in so far as he was drunk, lost control of his tongue and did something stupid. They shouldn't judge him forever on it. Rachel knows she wouldn't write off one of their partners for a stupid blunder.

Okay, so that isn't entirely true, and hasn't been entirely true in the past, but whatever. She can think how she likes.

Rachel would be lying if she said that things weren't a little wobbly though. She's not sure why, but the words he spoke at New Years still stick with her. As much as she berates her roommates for it, she hangs onto the harshness of that night, too. She can't reconcile the person she knows, the person he has come to be with her, with the callous man speaking to Santana.

She's going to forget about it tonight anyway. Tonight is about her enjoying herself, finally getting pampered and treated how she has always wanted.

He may not be as attentive, caring and affectionate as previous partners – nor as thoughtful or loving – but he's still her boyfriend. He has other attributes that make him wonderful. He does.

Rachel swears that he does.

She spots him immediately, the tall, skinny man with a mop curls. He drops a kiss to her forehead and gestures for her to go in, and he follows behind.

"You look ravishing," He whispers in her ear, smooth as silk. She's never been with someone like that before.

"Thank you. You look pretty dashing yourself." Rachel can't help but smile as she sits down, appreciating the compliments.

As she's about to look at her menu, Jesse grabs her hand, "Before we go any further, I have a surprise for you. You might have noticed that Valentines Day is coming up.." Duh. It's only been on Rachel's calendar since last Valentines. "And I got us an early present. Things will be so expensive at Valentines, I thought we could go a little earlier."

"Go?" Rachel can't help the bubble of excitement erupt within her. She makes a bigger deal out of holidays than she should. She can't help it. She expects to receive presents, to go for a nice dinner – and she treats her partner the same. Valentines Day is about appreciating each other. Sometimes, life gets hectic and doing that every day can be hard.

Jesse smirks, and slides a card across the table to her. She opens it, and two plane tickets slide out. Shocked, she gasps and looks at him. The smug look on his face is amusing to her. She glances at the destination.

Las Vegas.

A little confused, Rachel raises an eyebrow, and he rushes on, "C'mon, the glamour is something that appeals to both of us. Don't lie and say you're not dying to try and get tickets to see Britney."

She concedes and lets out a giggle of delight, "Oh my god, Vegas! I can't believe it! You really shouldn't have… wow… This must have cost a fortune?"

"Nothing's too expensive. Our first Valentine's together, you know. We'll be staying in an okay hotel though, not the best, not the worst."

"It sounds wonderful." She leans across the table and kisses him lightly on the lips. Rachel picks up the card.

She tries. She tries with all her might not to be disappointed with the message. Rachel beats down that feeling of annoyance and frustration at Jesse's inscription in the Valentines card. It's no secret that Rachel is a sentimental, dramatic soul. She enjoys big shows and dramatic flair; it's just who she is.

Romantic declarations, extravagant proposals and sappy love sonnets are all right up her alley.

Pushing this to the back of her mind, Rachel puts down the card, and turns back to her boyfriend. "You're wonderful."

He smirks, "I know."

Rachel,

I hope you like the present. I have a feeling you will. Happy Early Valentines.

Love,

Jesse.

A/N: So the chapter of today, as promised. Thank you for the reviews received last chapter :)

I'll either update again tomorrow or Thursday, I haven't decided yet. The end is approaching though, woooo. I also do not own "More Than Words" Or Glee.

Thanks for reading,

CN.