A/N: death of an original character, so don't worry, FaBerry, Britt, Santana - they're all alive. It's not even detailed, I didn't write a scene for it in this chapter. It's just talked about. It's nothing too traumatizing, I don't think.

Keeping this story going only for my wifey. ;)

Chapter 4 - Thinkin Bout You (Frank Ocean)

Being at home has been good for me. It's given me other things to worry about besides Rachel or cheerleading. Mom thinks it's a good idea that I find another summer job, one that is better for my career than waitressing. Or at least something that will jump out on my resume. So I do the whole job hunting thing and in all of the interviews I go to, I let them know about attending Hopkins at the end of last summer and interning for a year at a major corporation in NY.

I get a job at a local non-governmental agency. It doesn't pay a lot, but it does offer to teach me a lot about working in applied anthropology and it gives me experience.

The job is a 9-5 thing so I only have time to think about other things after five in the afternoon on the drive home, when traffic is heavy and I tend to space out.

This Tuesday I have been thinking a lot about Britt. I miss her when I'm not in New York. She's my best friend and although we talk, we don't text that much because most of the times I get lost. I love her to death but still sometimes I can't understand what she's trying to convey via message. I make a mental note to Skype her as soon as I get home.

Mom is in the kitchen, as always, when I come in through the garage. She looks up from the eggplant she's chopping into cubes and smiles, "Hey, honey. How was the second day on the job?"

"It was just as you'd expect a second day to be," I reply before kissing her hello on the cheek. "'S Dad home yet?"

"No, he's stopping by the grocery store for me."

I tell her as I spy around the counter to see if I want to snack on something, "You could've asked me. I would've gone for you." I grab a cucumber from a bowl and stick it in my mouth.

The corners of her lips pull up in a small, proud smile, "I know, but it's on his way home. It's not a big deal."

"Okay, if you say so. I'm gonna go upstairs and change. Maybe I'll Skype Britt tonight."

"Hey, if you do, tell her I said hello. And that girlfriend of hers too. Rachel's best friend - what's her name?" She stops chopping for a second, puts her hands on her hips and tilts her head upward to think. "Santiago... Samantha? No, definitely not that."

"Santana, Mom." I remind her. "Santana." And she had to bring up Rachel's name. She's so not as sleek as she thinks she is. Dropping her name her and there as if I could forget.

My mom slaps my hand away when I go for another cucumber, muttering something about manners, but then she grabs one anyway and hands it to me. "That's her. How's Rachel these days?"

Smooth segue way. "I think she's fine, Mother." I roll my eyes and grab my bag again to go to my room. "You know that we barely talk so."

She 'hms' and then shrugs. "Okay."

Suspicious. "Okay what?" I narrow my eyes at the back of her head.

"Nothing," she says quickly and finishes chopping the last eggplant. She scoops all of the cubes and throws them onto a sheet tray. "Just - what happened to you guys again?"

"I swear that we already had this conversation since I've been home. And like, three times since Rachel and I broke up."

"Since you broke up with her," She corrects me.

"Yeah, whatever, same thing." I cross my arms. "Are we done?"

"No." She says. "I think that whatever it is that Rachel did that upset you so much could be forgiven and you guys could deal with it and get back together. I just want you to be happy." She wipes her hand on the apron around her waist and then pats me on the cheek with it. "She made you so happy."

I step away from her touch and pity look and tell her with a raised eyebrow, "I am still happy, Mom. I don't need someone to make me happy."

"No, you're definitely right." She tells me, all serious. "But even you with your feminist side must admit that she made you happiest."

"Okay. I'm going up. Call me when dinner's ready." I don't let her say anything else that might bring up any more thoughts of Rachel before I'm ditching the kitchen. I make my way upstairs quickly, making an effort to try to forget the last thing she said. "...she made you happiest."

My blouse is off first, to give me room to breathe. I need to breathe. Why is it that when I think about Rachel I start feeling panicky? Did I miss my chance at all? Did I make a mistake? Am I still making a mistake in not being with her?

And then there's Sarah. I genuinely like her. She makes me feel an electricity I haven't felt in a long time with Rachel. Maybe she and I got too comfortable in our relationship, but is comfortable ever bad? Sarah is different, she's fresh. And right now she is drama-free. And many miles away.

As is Rachel.

This is confusing. I stand in the middle of my room in my black bra and jeans, chest working up and down. My hands are on my hips, staring at the ceiling, and mouth hanging open to keep the tears at bay. This shouldn't still be this fucking hard. I decide that I really just need to talk to Britt to see if she has anything reassuring to tell me.

On the way to my bed where the laptop is, I pick up a white cotton shirt and put it on. It's comfortable. I work myself down to a more calm state and think of good, happy things, like puppies and ice cream. I run a hand over my new hair cut. I had it cut on Saturday to welcome summer.

It doesn't take long after I call for her to pick up. Maybe a minute, but then the connection is made and I see her smile at me. "Hey, Britt!" I wave and then kiss the palm of my hand and blow it at her.

"Hey, Q! How've you been?"

I try to come off as relaxed as I can, "Good, good. You?" I finally notice that she's not alone when I see movement behind her but I can't really see even as I try to take a peek behind her. I laugh, "who else is there, Britt? Is that S?"

Britt ducks, suddenly, and I am surprised to see Rachel standing behind Britt, and looking straight into my eyes. The intensity is too much, and I feel my cheeks warm up. "Hello, Quinn. You look -" she stops and I assume it's because she's getting awkward around our friends. It comes out softly, "Beautiful, I guess."

The way the word hits my ears brings about a familiar feeling and one that makes me dizzy. I look down and let my bangs hide my face, at least partially. "Thank you."

Kurt speaks up next, and he looks mildly embarrassed for Rachel. "Hey, Quinn."

"Hola, Bitch." Santana says from somewhere in the back. I can only make out that she's reading something but not what.

I roll my eyes, "Hello Kurt and the other one. What are you guys doing?"

"We were playing Uno but Kurt threw a fit and gave up." Rachel says and moves toward the window. "Quitter," she adds and shoots him an annoyed look. I'm watching her when she glances at me and it's awkward.

He jumps off his seat and picks up a finger, "no. I am not a quitter."

"Well," Santana says and flips a page. "You totally quit."

It must be the way Santana doesn't even look up or Kurt's face when she reminds him that, but I start laughing. I feel Rachel's eyes on me because there is never a moment when she's looking at me that I can't tell. I find her eyes and see her visibly get shy. "Well, Kurt," I say and turn to him again, "You should play me. I'm really bad at Uno so you'd win."

Rachel immediately pipes in, "That's true." She shakes her head at herself and sits next to Santana.

Kurt seems excited about the idea, "yes! We'll play when you come back for next semester."

"Sounds like a plan, Kurt." I tell him, but I'm really interested in talking to Britt who's been kind of quietly observing the conversation taking place. "What about you? What are you doing?"

"I am going to Lima with Santana tomorrow. We're driving like when you and Rache-" Sometimes Britt has no filter and I don't hate her for it. But the memory of the trip pains my heart because Rachel and I were fighting then, but we made up and we still managed to make it a good one. I bite my lower lip and Britt apologizes to Rachel on the other side of the screen.

Rachel exhales, "I - it's fine."

"Quinn, maybe we'll come visit you sometime this month." Santana says, barely looking up from her magazine. She's trying to change subjects and I appreciate it because the air in the room is starting to feel heavy. And I'm not even there.

"Sounds good," I say.

Suddenly, Rachel gets up and leaves saying something about buying eggs for Mike so he can bake a cake. I barely am able to say good bye before she's gone and we are left staring at one another in her absence.

Kurt says, "don't mind her, Quinn. She's -"

"Hey." Santana warns him, "let's just let Rachel be, okay?" The look she gives him is enough to shut him up from whatever comment he was going to make. I actually love Santana for that because I don't want to hear Rachel's friends talking about her. We all know Kurt loves her but he loves gossip and he wouldn't be above talking about her to make me feel better just because it's me who stayed and she left. I'm sure he would make a comment about me if I had ditched.

I mumble, "anyway," and wait until their attentions are back on me. "Britt, tell me about that dance recital you had yesterday."

And she doesn't stop talking for a good thirty minutes, and that is the way I like it.

The Skype call gets interrupted by a phone call. I check my phone and it makes me smile because Sarah's calling. She had mentioned earlier while we were texting that she would call at night but I forgot about it and was actually surprised by it.

"Hey, there," I greet her while still on Skype with Britt and Santana. Kurt left about ten minutes ago when he realized Britt wouldn't stop talking about her cat's marriage proposal.

I can practically hear Sarah smirk on the other side, "hey, gorgeous. Are you busy right now?"

"I'm on Skype with friends from there but they don't mind." I ask them with my eyes if I can call back later and Santana rolls her eyes really hard before slamming on some key. The call disconnects. "Anyway," I drag. "Tell me about your week."

"Everything okay with your friends?" She picks up on the tone of my voice.

"No, yeah," I say. "They'll get over it. I will call them back tonight still or tomorrow if it's too late when we hang up."

She chuckles, her voice is already raspy by nature and when she chuckles like that it makes me feel all warm. "If you say so."

"Your week?" I ask again.

She says, "right. Well, I had that film to finish that I told you about. It went okay, I think. Besides that, nothing much happened. I mean, I went fishing over the weekend and let's just say I should never do that again."

I laugh out loud, trying to picture a girl like Sarah with her cutoff tank and a backwards hat fishing. "Oh, that mental image is hilarious."

"I don't know how people do it, Q. Who willingly just sits there for hours, quietly, waiting... did I mention quietly?!"

"I wouldn't have the patience for it, I feel ya. But, like, don't Texans fish a lot? For some reason I just thought all of you were raised fishing..." I joke and wait for her predictable reaction.

She drags, "Here we go again with the stereotyping! The first time I ever saw a longhorn, I was 18, Quinn! Three years ago before I came to school in New York!" She laughs, exaggerating on the Texan accent.

"Good grief," I say. "Never speak with a Texan accent again. It's just - odd."

"I told you," she says back in her normal voice. "I think that I was born in the wrong state. I seriously despise country music. I am a disgrace to my people."

Country music is not really my favorite either. I tell her, "I think people either really love or really hate country. There's no in-between."

Talking to Sarah is easy because she makes everything interesting. Her loud personality is enough to keep us on the phone for the next two hours, talking about dumb things like whether or not Patrick and Spongebob are gay for each other or just really good friends. I insist they are but she has a theory that Spongebob is gay for Squidward, which... just no.

I move from my laptop to a chair and eventually change into pajamas and get into bed. Her company is nice, even if it's over the phone. Talking to her is so different than talking to Rachel that it makes me miss my ex less. I silently cuss myself for comparing the two and then focus on just paying attention to Sarah because she deserves my undivided attention.

I end up laughing so hard right before we say goodbye that I have to race to the bathroom and leave the phone on my bed. I don't want to take her to the bathroom with me to hear me potty, so I warn her that I'm leaving but will be back soon. When I come back she is laughing still, "I swear I thought you were gonna pee yourself before you made it to the bathroom."

"I am a very fast runner, Sarah," I inform her as serious as I can manage, even though we're both still cracking up.

"Honey!" My mother calls for me. "You have guests!"

I get up from the floor reluctantly. I put down the pictures I had been looking at of Rachel and I at our camping trip and stretch as I walk down my hallway. There are voices coming from the foyer, getting more recognizable by the minute. "Is it possible?" I mutter to myself right as the wall disappears and I am granted a view of Santana and Brittany standing there, smiling.

"OH MY GOD! HI!" I scream and open my arms. I run toward them and pull them both into my arms. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"We wanted to surprise you!" Britt says, excited.

"Which we clearly did," Santana comments with a proud smirk on her face.

"Yes, you did. Were you in on this?" I turn toward my mom who is smiling too.

She nods and simply says, "I know everything," before going down the hallway to her room.

"You guys - I'm so excited you're here. Let's go do something." Britt is going to be staying at home. Even though her parents are really cool about her being bisexual, they still want to set up boundaries so they asked if Santana could stay with me. We do have a spare room. I help them with Santana's bags upstairs and show her the rest of the second floor. They tell me about their trip and how Santana pretty much slept through the whole of it. Santana denies it but Britt gives her one adorable look that has her agreeing immediately and admitting that she was "tired."

Santana wants to take a shower so Britt and I hang out in my room while we wait. "So, how are things?" She asks as she settles on my bed with me. She automatically curls into me.

I tell her, "things are okay. It's good being home."

"Good," she says. "That's really great. Heard from Rach lately?" She asks with a mischievous look in her eyes, flipping through the pictures I had been looking at earlier.

"Uh," I think about the last time we talked. If I'm not mistaken it was that awkward Skype call that happened after I called her to apologize. "No. I mean, she - well, I. No." I stand, take the pictures from her and throw them inside a random drawer.

"She's coming down to Lima tomorrow!" She informs me.

"That's great, Britt," I try to sound casual and like that information doesn't do anything for me. It does, though, because when Rachel and I talked on the phone I said I'd visit. I wonder if she remembers that, or if she cares. I wonder if she will make me go through with it. I want to, but at the same time, it scares me. "But tell me about what's going with you."

Britt looks at me with those bright blue eyes and shakes her head before saying, "I got an audition callback for a musical to be part of the troupe."

Now that's good news! "Hey!" I pull her in and hug her tight, "congratulations. I'm so proud of you."

"Thank you," she says. "It's a good production. Kurt thinks that they'd be crazy to go with someone else."

I'm about to agree when a phone starts ringing. I check and it's not mine and when I look at Britt to confirm, it's not hers either. She stands and looks for Santana's phone until she finds it under piles of her clothes. "It's Rachel."

"Pick up," I say and try not to listen.

"Hello?" Britt's face goes from bright to sullen in a minute. "Calm down, Rachel. Slow down - what happened?"

At Britt's questions and tone of voice I sit up as fast as I can. I wanna listen but can't hear so I just count to ten and hope it's not as bad as it sounds.

Britt tries to calm Rachel down, "hey, babe. Okay. I know you're scared. I know - she's about to come out of the shower but right now you're all I have so. Yes, I know." She gives me a sideways look and then turns around. I think it's so I don't freak out anymore than I am but it doesn't help. I get up and come close to her.

"What happened?" I whisper. I wanna know so badly. "Britt." I hiss.

She lifts up a finger and continues, "okay. That's good. Yes. Breathe in, breathe out."

"Britt! Tell me if she's alright at least."

"She's okay," Britt mouths and then takes a few steps away from me. "Okay, Rach, honey. Listen to me. You're okay. You're alive." She goes quiet for a second. "Yes, I know. But just try to focus on the positive."

Santana walks in at this moment, already looking suspicious as if she heard some of what Britt was saying. She rolls up her towel further and questions it, "is everything okay?"

Britt tells Rachel, "I'm going to hand Santana the phone, alright? Okay. Love you. Remember to breathe."

Carefully she moves the phone off her ear and mutes it with her shoulder. She looks at the both of us with an expression that I have never seen on her face before. "I, well. Rachel needs you," she tells Santana but then looks at me. "Um. Her, uh, friend... Hey or Hayley... or something like that. She uh, was in an accident. She is -" she stops her sentence and hands the phone over. "I think Rachel was with her when it happened."

In a hurry, Santana grabs the phone and says, "Rach? Are you okay?" Her tone is concerned.

For a split second I wish that Rachel had called me but I know that's not something that I can claim. I want to do something for her. I know that Hey is some girl that she was sleeping with and although it gives me a pang (I know, how fucking disgusting of me right now) of jealousy, I know that witnessing something like that can be traumatizing.

"What happened?" Santana asks. Then follows with, "where's Kurt? Blaine? What about Jesse? Or Mike and Tee, Mercedes or Sam? Go be with someone, please. Until you come to Lima tomorrow." She's quiet then, "oh, right. Well, we'll see you here after the funeral?"

I'm trying really hard to keep myself from pulling the phone away from Santana. I just hate knowing that Rachel is not okay. "Okay, sweetie." Santana says. "Yes, of course. Do you want me to -" Santana is cut off then, "Yes. I can put us on speakerphone and you just talk to the three of us until you get home. You promise Mike is at home with Tina right?"

Rachel asks something. To which Santana responds, "oh yeah. Um, Britt, me and Quinn... Yes. We're actually at her - oh. Okay." Santana looks at me and offers me the phone, "she wants to talk to you."

I hesitate for only one second before grabbing the phone.

"I'm sorry," she says on the other side. "I'm so -so sorry I, I, I asked to talk to you. I know," sniffle - "I can't ask this of you because we're not together but just - hearing your voice relaxes me."

I look at Santana and Britt. They look hopeful, as if her talking to me on the phone will fix all of the mess that I've caused; fix our hearts; our relationship. And fix the fact that her friend is dead. I walk out of the room and sit out on the hallway, my back against the wall, right under a family portrait.

"Hey," I use my soothing voice. "It's okay. I'm glad I could be of any assistance.

"I'm su-sure you had better things to do," she sobs on the other side.

"I have nowhere else to be other than right here, right now, with you," I assure her and mean it.