She sees him standing there, in front of her locker, and stops short. He leans back against the metal doors, slouching slightly with his hands in his pockets. Rachel could feel the rush of blood flowing through her veins, the increase of her heart beats that comes with the realization that this is really happening. This isn't a dream.

Together. They're together. At least, that was what he said.

She hasn't seen him since that night when he had told her he loves her and catapulted her world into a frenzy of heightened senses. Rachel could still remember every single touch, every single glance that he had sent her way. Even during the times she had determinedly ignored him, she could still feel the intensity of his stare drilling a hole in the back of her head. She had held on to those words like a lifeline, the memory of those precious seconds they shared the only beacon of light in all the darkness that surrounded her. It was the only thing that kept her from crumpling to the floor in a broken heap because someone loves her. Not just someone, but Finn. Finn loves her.

Somehow, in those minutes between his promise to come back and the text he had sent, the moment had been maginifed in her mind. And she had been certain, absolutely convinced that it had been too good to be true. Because spontaneous confessions of love just didn't happen to someone like Rachel Berry. Not unless it was followed by another confession that was sure to break her heart. It was a constant pattern in her life.

She was the girl who was slushied. The piece of gum stuck at the bottom of a shoe. The bottom of the lowest rung in the social ladder. That was her E! True Hollywood story. The girl who overcame the challenges of social stigma to rise as the brightest star of her generation. She had spent the first fifteen years of her life firmly holding on to that belief, ignoring every jab and every twist of the imaginary sword that came her way. She learned to turn every insult into a stepping stone. After all, it was always the underdog who wins the heart of the audience. If she was lonely, well who needs friends when you're a star?

It was only a matter of time before she broke.

Because he kissed her, and he ran. Told her he wanted to spend more time with her, and Quinn was pregnant. Kissed her and made it official, and told her he didn't want to be her boyfriend. And then there was Jesse, who told her he was crazy about her, who changed schools for her and made her believe that it was all real. And that had ended with her alone in the school parking lot, the slight throb on her forehead and the stench that surrounded her mocking her for being so delusional as to believe that anybody could ever love her. She found her mother. And then lost her again.

If I were your parents, I'd ask for my money back. That was a comment that popped up on her MySpace once. A cheerio, of course. Probably Quinn. And oddly, it was the only thing that kept repeating through her brain as she sat alone in their dressing room. They can't, she thought cynically. Because apparently she was a non-refundable good. The truth was, she was the girl who got slushied. And sometimes when no one was around, Rachel truly did believe that she was as unlovable as they claimed.

And because she was the kind of person who clung stubbornly to routine, she turned away from him that night. Ran the oposite way from his confession and his promise. She ignored his texts and phone calls, and she ran towards her mother instead. Because that heartbreak was expected, that heartbreak was inevitable (Though it didnt hurt an less when it actually happened).

It took only one look at his face for her to regret everything.

She avoided him like the plague when he came back, always turning the other way when he tried to catch her eye and dragged a confused Mercedes away as she blathered on and on about God knows what.

She stood on that stage with the three people responsible for the mess in her head. On the one side stood Jesse and her mother, the dynamic duo. The dream team for the operation Crush Rachel Berry. And on the other was him. The first boy she had ever truly, desperately wanted. The first person who ever made her feel welcomed, her first real friend. The first person to ever truly made her feel unlovable. The first person who ever told her he loves her. He was the only person she knew well, but could never, ever figure out. All these thoughts stifled her and she almost suffocated, right there on that stage.

It was as she was walking down the stage, after the final disaster to end her perfect night, that she caught the droop of his shoulders. He walked forlornly beside their teacher. His steps were heavy and his feet dragged against the linoleum. She wondered if she was responsible for any of the weight that seemed to wear him down. Their gazes had finally met when he had turned at the same time she was staring at the back of his head. He had looked surprised for a second before his expression changed into one that dropped her heart to the bottom of her feet and froze her. The hurt on his face was palpable, like an actual physical blow. He had turned away immediately and she knew she made a mistake. She was trying to protect her heart, but she had only hurt his instead.

She tried to talk to him on the way to the bus and he shrugged her off without a glance, his eyes focused firmly straight ahead. He sat at the back of the bus alone, and it was only after the vehicle began to move, did she gather enough courage to go to him. It took just one heartfelt apology for him to forgive her and she knew then that he meant those words. The realization was like a bulldozer to the walls she had put up around her. Her carefully pieced together self finally crumbled into a blubbering mess in his arms.

She cried the whole way back.

He never let go once.

And now there he is, leaning against her locker, waiting for her as if he's done it his whole life. She takes a deep breath and steps closer. He turns his head at the right moment and the boredom on his face gives way to the brightest smile anyone has ever given her.

"Rach!" he yells, all six feet away as he picks up his backpack off the floor and amble towards her. Out of the corner of her eye she could see some residents of McKinley turn at his call, some with confusion in their eyes. He stops right in front of where she's still frozen and towers over her with that grin still in place.

"Hi," she says breathlessly once she's found her voice. This is the first time they've seen each other since the night they came together. Officially. To be honest, she doesn't really know what to expect. Half of her still expects to see him walk around the halls like Saturday night had never happened, like everything is just in her head.

"Hi," he answers exuberantly.

And he takes her hand.

Like it was the most natural thing in his world. Like they've been holding hands forever. She couldn't help that little flutter in her chest once his big palm closes in on hers and envelopes it completely. She stares at their intertwined hands as he pulls her along. He's telling her something, but all Rachel could pay attention to is at the feel of his warm fingers against her skin. Holding her breath, she slowly threads her fingers between his. He grips the back of her hand like it was reflex. The smile on her face totally gives her away to anyone who's willing to look.

"So, Kurt and I've got a plan," he finishes excitedly and she feels guilty for not listening to anything that he's been saying.

"A plan?" she asks, trying to piece together what he means.

"Yeah. Well, I told him about how bummed I was and how I wished we could show Mr Schue how much Glee meant to us, what with it being canned and all, and he said there's this song that he thinks would do the job. So we're trying to gather everyone up and kind of do a tribute to him, you know?"

"You're really stepping into the shoes of a leader Finn," she comments, proud of his efforts. He looks down at her and smiled bashfully.

"It's what co-captains do, right?"

"Right," she agrees.

"So we're trying to get everyone to come to our place after school to talk about it. Can you come?"

"Yes," she answers without missing a beat. "Definitely."

"Awesome. So you have English now, right?"

"Yes," she answers, slightly surprised and highly flattered that he seems to remember her schedule.

"Yeah," he says at the look on her face. "I used to see St. Jackass walk you to class. I got Bio down the hall."

"Oh."

"So I'll see you later?" he asks casually, as if confessing to her that he watches her in school was just something he does everyday. She nods her head and smiles. He releases their hands.

He kisses her cheek.

"You look really pretty today," he whispers in her ear before straightening up and walking away. She could see the red tinging the back his neck. The shade probably matches her face. Rachel watches as he slips into class, turning around at the door to wave at her, before she skips into her own.

xxx

He holds her hand in the car. All the way. From the moment they pull out of the parking lot to the moment they reach the Hummels. She starts to get the feeling that maybe this boy is going to be the death of her, if the dangerous skips her heart has been doing is anything to go by.

He's happy.

He talks on and on and on about his plan with Kurt and the football season and how much harder he needs to work from now on. She doesnt think she's ever heard him talk this much before. It's like they've switched places, because she's still rendered almost speechless at the casualness of them being together.

They are the last to arrive, walking behind Mercedes and Tina on the front lawn. Kurt has been waiting patiently in the living room, his lap top perched on his lap. She takes a sit on the couch and Finn plops down next to her, their sides molding into one another. She seriously needs to stop being so hyper-aware of their physical proximity because it has been messing with her brain the whole day. She catches Mercedes looking with an almost smirk on her face.

Kurt calls the meeting to order and plays the song for all of them to hear. It truly is perfect. She doesn't admit this, but she had been doubting their abilities to find the right song. Clearly, she underestimated them because To Sir With Love is one of the most beautiful tributes in the English language and she hadn't even thought about it. She hadn't really been thinking about Mr Schue in the first place. Rachel just has a lot on her plate.

Tina suggests that they all sit in a semi-circle in the auditorium and take turns telling Mr Schue how Glee club changed their life. Puck rolls his eyes and asks her if maybe after that they can go paint their nails together. But he doesn't exactly reject the idea, so they're sticking with it. She wonders if they have always been this creative, if maybe all those times she took the reigns because nobody else would, was just because she never gave them the chance to prove themselves. It's really too bad. She thinks that if they still had Glee, she'll give them that chance willingly.

Artie says they should make it more heartfelt, tell Mr Schue what their lives were really like before Glee in one dramatic statement. Kurt brings out the sheet music and she looks at it in bewilderment to find her name on most of the verses. Finn smiles at her disbelief and Kurt refuses to meet her wondering gaze when he says "Your voice fits the song best."

"Thanks," she says softly, touched by the gesture, even if it really isn't all that personal. But this is Kurt, who has never not gone out of his way to make sure she gets the short end of the stick. Glee really has changed them all. They rehearse for hours because they have only two days to get this done. Wednesday is going to be their last day as Glee clubbers before their classroom will be given away to the Mock U.N.. Mike asks if Quinn will be there and Puck tells them he'll make sure of it.

It feels just like another assignment and for a while she thinks they all forget that it isn't. That this is goodbye. The room becomes much quieter towards the end and their last run-through isn't filled with as much gusto as the first ten times (If she had her way, they wouldn't leave until they've done at least fifteen. But everybody else preferred to have dinner instead of perfection).

"Hey," he calls out as he holds on to her arm. They are at the door of her car. She's the last to leave. She turns her face up towards him expectantly. He looks at her solemnly and she thinks it's the first time since this morning that something like anxiety is gracing his features.

"What is it?" she asks when he still hasn't spoken.

"What are you doing tomorrow? After school, I mean."

"Nothing. I mean I have ballet. But the class has been canceled."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"So do you want to work on that statement thing Artie was talking about?"

"Together?" she asks. He shrugs, embarrassed.

"Yeah." Rachel beams up at him and takes his hand.

"My parents won't be home until dinner," she says "They have a late meeting tomorrow." His face breaks out into that beautiful smile she is starting to get used to.

"Cool. So I'll wait for you by your locker?"

"Three fifteen. I need to see Miss Shaw about my last History assignment. My grade was unsatisfactory."

"Right. So it's a date?" She feels herself start to blush as she squeezes his hand.

"It's a date."

xxx

She couldn't sleep. She has been tossing and turning for the past hour in the dark because her mind just wouldn't cooperate with her wish to rest. All she wants is to get out of this limbo she's been in. Everything that has happened is making her lose her focus, and nothing could be a better proof of that then the day's events. A few months ago, she would be the one with all the ideas. She would be the first to think of a way to forever memorialize Glee in all their hearts. But now, now she's just too wrapped up in all these... calamities that has entered her life.

They're supposed to make a statement. They're supposed to tell Mr Schue what their lives were like before Glee. It's supposed to show how much better their lives have turned out because of him and because of the club. And she knows this. She knows that this club has given her so much, has changed her in some way, made her better. But everytime she tries to think of something, the only things she could think of are the past few months.

And it infuriates her but she just can't help it. Rachel just can't help equating Glee with Vocal Adrenaline. And by extension, with Jesse St. James. And by extension, Shelby Corcoran. Before Glee, she was the girl who got slushied every other day. If it hadn't been for her obvious and superior talents, her life pretty much sucked. But although those cold bursts of surprise she received every morning had wounded her pride, it had never wounded her heart.

She groans in frustration and turns to her side, hugging a pillow tightly against her chest. Why couldn't she think of a single thing to say? There's barely two days left and she's supposed to have the right words. Rachel Berry must never be caught unprepared. What is she going to tell Finn tomorrow? He's planning to work on this together and that means she needs to know what she wants to say. Now.

Rachel wishes she could just get all this negativity out of her system. She's never been this kind of girl, never been the type of person wallow in a pool of loathing and despair. She bounces back. It's part of her high maintainence quality. And it's part of the reason why she hates Jesse St. James with a zealous passion. But what scares her the most, the part that she hates the most, is that simmering anger that's burning just below her skin every single time she thinks about her mother. Because it's the thing that has been messing with her mind the most. It's what has been keeping her awake at night even when she tries her best to push it away.

She sighs in resignation, knowing full well that there is no possible way for her to suddenly be struck with brilliance. Once again, this foreign, bitter part inside of her wins and she loses. Because she just can't think of a single word to say. It's almost midnight and she tries her best to go to sleep. But that burning feeling in her chest just wouldn't go away. She reaches out to her left, her hand gliding along the space next to her head as she searches for her phone. Her fingers find the small object and grabs it. The light it emits blinds her a little, but her eyes adjusts to it until she can see the words on the screen clearly.

(Nite Rach. Can't wait for tomorrow :). Sweet dreams.)

She feels the familiar smile tug against her lips as she places her phone against her chest. It helps. A little.

xxx

Their walk up the steps to her front door is filled with silence and she wonders if the time would ever come when just holding his hand wouldn't make her heart go off into a giddy frenzy. She leads him to the kitchen and leaves him standing awkwardly next to the table top as she rummages through the pantry and comes out with two granola bars. He holds up the one she gives him and stares at it doubtfully. She insists that it's healthy and that it tastes good and he shrugs his shoulders, popping the wrapper open and inhaling the whole thing in two large bites.

"Not bad," he said through a mouth full of grain. She snorts and tells him to chew properly before he chokes. They make their way to the living room and he plops himself on to the edge of the couch in front of her television. She places herself primly next to him.

"So, " he says once she's settled. "Figured out what you're gonna say yet?" Rachel shakes her head and looks down at her lap, embarrassed by her incompetence. He nudges her with his shoulder.

"Hey it's cool," he says, flashing her a crooked grin when she looks up. "I got nothing either. I mean, I guess that's no surprise since I've always sucked with words and all. You know how I always say the wrong thing." She nods. She knows. She definitely knows. "Yeah. That's why I figure we could do it together. I mean you could totally help me out with the words and I could- well I could just be around."

"You being around is nice," she murmurs shyly. He flashes her another grin. Rachel clears her throat and tries to be serious. "Well what do you want to say? How do you feel?" He looks thoughtfully at somewhere behind her and she inches just a little bit closer towards him until their thighs touch. It's still weird how this is allowed now. Still weird that there's nothing in the way between the two of them anymore.

"I just-" he begins and shakes his head. "Glee is awesome, you know? I've never really had anything that made me like, happy until I joined Glee. And Mr Schue is like, he's kind of like a role model, you know?"

"The two of you seem really close," she says softly.

"Totally. He helped me out a lot with everything. With the baby, and Quinn. And with you. Okay, so that one was kind of shot to hell but Mr Schue is cool, you know? I never had anyone like him around to kind of show me the ropes."

"So he's like a father figure."

"Yeah. That. I just, I've always kind of coasted with my life, you know? No one's ever really pushed me for anything so I never really had to work all that hard. But then Mr Schue got me to join Glee and that changed. Cause Glee is something I keep having to fight for and Mr Schue is always just pushing me to be better. And you too. And yeah at first it was kind of annoying having to work so much for something, but then it just pays off in the end, you know? And-" He stops talking and turns to look at her, chuckling a little in embarrassment. "Told you I was bad with this."

"It's pretty good so far."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Cool. I'll try to work on it some more. How about you? What're you planning to say?" Rachel sighs and leans her head on his shoulder. She still doesn't know. It's starting to get annoying. She hears him laugh and looks up. "Rach, relax. It's not like we're getting graded for this or anything."

"Yes but I want my words to be perfect," she argues, pouting.

"Whatever you say, it's gonna be. Cause it like, comes from the heart or whatever, right?" She refrains from mentioning that her heart is just a dark, dark place at the moment and just sighs again and drops her head back on his shoulder. She feels his arm come around her as he hugs her from the side and bites back a smile.

"You're way too stressed out for this," he says seriously. She can't tell whether or not that twinkle she thought she saw in his eyes were really there. "We need a break!"

"But it has only been ten minutes," she protested.

"Yeah but you're kind of being all intense right now, you totally need to calm down. Watch a little tv or something."

"Really?" she asks doubtfully. She doesn't really watch television during the day.

"Definitely. It's very relaxing." He nods his head vigorously and smiles. She returns it automatically.

"'Kay." She reaches out for the remote on the coffee table and turns on the television. Fifteen minutes later, he's still channel surfing and she really can't see how this is supposed to be relaxing. Except maybe the part where she's lying on top of him a little, and he has his arm aound her. That part is very relaxing. But as for the watching itself, it seems to be having the opposite effect on her. Because they don't stay on one show for longer than two minutes and so she has no clue what is going on on any of them and that is just giving her more room to think. She could already feel that simmering burn making its way below her skin again.

Rachel can't really tell how they got to the position they're currently in. One minute they were just leaning against each other on the couch, and suddenly he says he needs to stretch his feet. One thing led to another and it ends with him pulling her flush against his body and tucking her head below his chin. She's never been this close to him before. When they were together the first time, everything was just so painfully awkward. They held hands and they kissed once in the span of two weeks. Okay so she held his hand, but that just made everything sound so much worse. He really didn't want to be with her then.

This time it's different. This time is so much better. Because this time he loves her. She smiles against his chest and tightens her hold around him. The simmer pushes closer and closer to the surface the longer they stay silent and the words just tumble out of her mouth before she could think.

"My mother wants a family." She could feel the confusion coming off him and when he asks whether that's a good thing, she feels her heart constrict.

"She doesn't want me," she whispers, the words coming out of her like jagged glasses grazing against her throat. He almost suffocates her with his hold. This isn't supposed to happen, she thinks. This isn't what they're supposed to be doing. They're supposed to be relaxing. This is not relaxing. Because she's trying her best not to cry and he's probably more than a little freaked out. Not that she blames him. His words wash over her and she wonders at the guilt he laces them with.

"You're better than all of us," he says into her hair. "Fuck us all. I'm sorry Rachel."

Something in her snaps. And she's outright sobbing against his shirt. She just can't understand why. That's the problem. She tells him this, her voice shaky and broken. Why doesn't her mother want her?

"She doesn't deserve you," he says, almost angrily, and she wonders if that's true. Because really, her life is made up of a long list of rejections. So if she thinks about it for too long, sometimes it just feels like it's the other way around. He forces her to look at him and she has never seen him looking so serious before. He tells her she doesn't need her mother. But she does. She has a shoebox full of proof that she does. She furiously wipes her tears away because this is supposed to be a date. Dates are supposed to be fun. And she just ruined everything.

"Maybe she's just a bitch," he says and she looks up at him in surprise. Did he just call her mother a bitch? "Am I wrong?" he asks, looking at her intently when she attempted to chastise him. The burn seeps out from under her skin just a little and the venom in her voice surprises her.

"Probably not." He stares at her, the same intensity still permeating his gaze. He's looking at her as if he's contemplating something and she tries not to look away.

"Say it," he says quietly.

"What?" There's a half smile on his face as he sits up and retrun the both of them to a more appropriate position on the couch.

"Shelby Corcoran's a bitch!" She gasps and refuses immediately. She would never be so uncouth as to resort to degrading slurs. It's just not a healthy form of expression. She tells him this in a prim manner as he wheedles on persistently. He argues that it is healthy because it expressed his emotions perfectly and she couldn't help the giggle that escapes.

"Please?" he begs. "For me?" She doesn't really see the point of this or why he's so hell-bent on getting her to say it. But he's breaking out those puppy dog eyes and she really does have enough rage in her for this to be an exception.

The first time comes out as a whisper. He goads her to say them louder. He starts chanting her name and she feels the excitement growing inside her. She jumps to her feet and rises to his challenge, her eyes flashing as they bore into his. The second time comes out in a clear, even tone.

"Are you kidding me? With your set of lungs? C 'mon Rachel!" She shouts them out, and that burning feeling consumes her entirely. One more, he tells her and Rachel yells the words at the top of her lungs as the last of the burn under her skin pushes its way out of her body. Who knew swearing could be so exhilarating? He jumps up from the couch and catches her waist before he twirls her around. She laughs in delight at the rush she feels and and beams up at him when he puts her down.

"That was awesome!," she squeals.

"You're awesome," he says and the beam on her face grows into unreal proportions. Her lips are taking up half her face with the way its stretching out. He thinks she's awesome. Her. He sits back down and pats the empty seat next to him. She smiles and and follows suit, placing her head on his chest as he leans back into the couch. He continues with the channel surfing and she fiddles idly with the zipper of his hoodie. The simmering burn is gone, along with the rest of her anger. But it seemed to have paved the way for the sadness that's settling in.

She sniffles and his arms around her tighten. She feels the his lips against her temple. The slow circles he's making on her back comforts her as she let her tears fall in silence.

xxx

Everybody is already at the auditorium at three o'clock sharp. Nobody's late, not even Matt. She sees the downcast expression that's plastered on each of their faces and knows she's sporting the same look. In half an hour, Glee will be over. For good. The slight swell around Finn's eyes makes her think of what he told her the day before and she leans up to place a gentle kiss on his cheek. He smiles down at her a little half-heartedly.

Shelby's taking Beth home. Kurt tells them this as they wait for Mr Schue to finish his last class for the day. She feels him grip her hand just a little tighter and grips back to tell him that she's fine. She sees Quinn sitting on the other side of the room and wonders how it happened. She remembers her conversation with her mother and the look on Shelby's face when Rachel informed her that a new beautiful baby girl has arrived. She should have known this will happen. Shelby wants a family after all, she wants a daughter. She just doesn't want hers. It angers Rachel just a little to realize that she's the intermediary that made all this possible.

She feels the burn in the back of her eyes and excuses herself. She'll go see if Mr Schue is done, she tells them. Rachel could feel his worried gaze stay on her until she slips out the door.

xxx

They sit in a semi-circle on the stools they have dragged on to the stage. Mr Schue is looking at them as he takes a sit behind his customary table, his expression perplexed.

"We have something we want to say to you," she begins before she takes her seat next to Finn. Her hands grip the edges of her skirt and he reaches out to briefly touch one of them. She turns to look at him, but his attention is already on their teacher.

One by one they go down the line, each member sharing in a simple statement about what their life were like before this club. She feels her anxiety growing as her turn comes nearer. This club gave her friends. It gave her Finn. And Mr Shue, although he has never fully appreciated the extent of her talents, gave her the chance to be special. She was the girl who was slushied, just another loser to walk down the halls of McKinley. Now she's Rachel Berry. Now she's so much more than that. When her turn comes, she knows what to say.

"I was getting sushied."