Had myself a lover who was finer than gold
But I've broken up and busted up since
And love don't play any games with me
Anymore like she did before
-New York, New York
Quinn was warming down after 20 minutes of running. She's getting better, but her mind had been somewhere else for the past few days that she knew she overdid it; because the more she thought of Rachel, the faster she ran. The blonde took one final sprint towards a huge tree at Bronx Park and held on to its trunk while reaching for her water bottle hooked on her belt. Okay, so she's ready to pass out. Taking one deep breath, she pressed her forehead against the trunk and calmed her body.
"Are you alright?"
Quinn turned to face her left and saw a fellow runner, probably about her age, looking deeply concerned.
The blonde smiled and nodded. "Yes, thank you. I just need a few minutes."
"Hey, you're Quinn Fabray, aren't you?"
Quinn sat down under the tree and gulped down some water while nodding. "Yeah, how did you—"
"Fordham", the girl smiled widely. "I saw you in the recent Student Colloquium. Your paper on Social Exclusion was brilliant and thought-provoking."
Quinn hunched over and smiled. "Thanks. Uhm, I didn't catch your name…"
"Andrea Bergmann. I'm an Economics major but I'm secretly into anthropology and sociology."
"Oh. You're not one of them.", Quinn chuckled.
"Which?", the other girl answered. "Those who think Economics is the answer to everything?"
Quinn laughed. "I didn't say that. You did."
"Well, don't worry about it. I'm not hardcore.", Andrea smirked and stepped forward. "Do you run here every day?"
"Yeah, almost every late afternoon. You?"
"My first time, actually. I run on the south side, since it's closer to my apartment. But I think I might be venturing out here more often from now on. Scenery's a lot…prettier."
Quinn looked up and saw Andrea's gaze focused on her. The former HBIC pressed her lips together and smiled while nodding her head, fully comprehending what the other girl meant.
"I'll see you, then, Quinn Fabray", the other girl said as she started to jog away.
Quinn's smile broke widely then shook her head as she stood up and headed towards the opposite direction. Another brunette. That wasn't the first time something similar happened. She's in fact, getting used to it. Of course when men are the ones who try to chat her up, she had the decency to come clean about her sexuality right away. She had never really given it much thought before because she felt it didn't matter. She had Rachel and she only dealt with Rachel. But these days, she had been forced to reckon with her sexuality in a more definite manner. She's lesbian. Not bisexual, or any other forms of categories. She likes women, and has a full appreciation of the female body. Nothing turns her on more than a woman's ass. And legs that go for miles; full lips and brown eyes. And yeah, she's describing Rachel Berry. Nothing turned her on like Rachel did.
Certainly not the two girls she's dated so far. She wasn't exactly Don Juan de Marco and she wasn't being careless. One of them was also from Fordham –and an acquaintance— and the other one she met in the Youth Center. Point is, she wasn't a "Puck in the making" as Santana pointed out. Two in three months, for crying out loud. That didn't qualify her as a player.
More like a serial monogamist.
What Quinn had been trying to ignore in those moments, but never fail to slap her in the face every time the passion had cooled down, is the fact that those women were mere substitutes. She had even admitted to herself that she didn't have an iota of an idea why she slept with them. And so Andrea, should you pursue Quinn Fabray later on, you would be receiving an apology from her and a generic statement of she's not ready for a serious relationship. But if you're willing to stick around for something non-committal, then Quinn would just be a phone call away.
It's nothing personal, Ms. Bergmann.
It's just you're not Rachel Berry.
As months passed by, the sharp pain in her heart almost every minute became duller though it never went away. It simply became more bearable and morphed into something that was part of Quinn's everyday life. So when she received the voicemail from Rachel asking her to go watch the play, she was half-disappointed that she didn't break down. A huge part of her didn't want to get over Rachel. The fewer twinges she felt, the more she grieved over the impending death of her love for the small brunette. While it may seem counter-intuitive, for Quinn, it was consistent to human nature. We all want to get over the pain, but not the feeling of being in love. We cling on to the feeling, the same way we desperately hang on to memories that fade quickly over time.
It's been more than a year since she first walked out of Rachel's life. She had come full circle as she felt the cold autumn breeze hit her face once again on the way back to her apartment. She hadn't heard from Rachel since the play. The brunette had not contacted her again despite having her number. Finn was there, and the blonde understood what it may have meant. She didn't want to know anymore. She was oddly at peace with believing that she had let go of Rachel in order for the brunette to be happy.
She knew the answer all along because she had given up the one thing she was always proud of—Beth. But she refused to do the same for Rachel. She instead held on to the brunette out of fear and selfishness. Their relationship was like a bird slowly being gripped to death by a hand that refused to let it fly.
She finally understood what it meant to love.
To let go is to love. To love is to let go.
Well, now, Quinn Fabray is learning how to fly. She had abandoned certain unwanted load along the way. She went home to Lima unannounced before the end of summer and spent a week in Columbus with her mom. They spoke about their relationship and her sexuality. Judy cried over the demise of her fantasy world. But more than that, she agonized over Quinn's heartache over her failed relationship with Rachel. Judy vowed to talk to Rachel and give her a good tongue-lashing for hurting her baby. Quinn admonished her mother about not putting tongue and lesbian relationships together in one sentence. It took awhile, but her mother finally understood then squealed in embarrassment.
She's back in Riverdale, a place she now considered her home. A quaint apartment overlooking Hudson River. Yeah. Hilarious. She was on her third year in Fordham and took a job as research assistant to one of her professors. She was slowly becoming financially independent from her father. Russel still pays the rent, but with the relatively cheaper cost of living in Bronx as opposed to where she used to be, a significant percentage of her monthly budgets and her had been wisely transferred to savings while her life-savings were distributed to small investments with the help of Emily's financial adviser.
And speaking of Emily, the woman had (expectedly) come back from Ireland for her second year in NYU master's program. She had the graciousness, though unnecessary, to ask Quinn if she was alright with the older woman seeing someone else. It was a weird feeling, seeing Emily with someone else. It was weirder because Emily had actually been tamed.
Oh, and Santana was in love. Though she's adamantly denying it. She's in like. Don't ever say she's head over heels in love with Emily. But whatever.
It all started when Santana asked Quinn for Emily's number because the Latina said she wanted to speak to the older woman about possible sponsorships. Given the British woman's connection, it was a natural thing for the Latina to have done what any student leader would have done.
Santana and Emily began corresponding while the older woman was still in Ireland. Quinn initially thought nothing of it as the Latina was all business-like and very upbeat about Emily's willingness to help out Santana's organization. Both were in NYU and it was a natural alliance of sorts. Then the blonde noticed subtle changes in her best friend's behavior. For one, she didn't carry her usual skepticism towards Emily like before. Two, as if Quinn would never notice, Santana had a hard time answering text messages those days without a smile that she tried hard to suppress. And third, the dark clouds that normally trail above the Latina's head all dissipated. But the blonde failed to see the connection between her two friends right away. She was, after all, a bit self-absorbed over the last few months.
Santana cleared her throat for what seemed to have been the nth time that night but the blonde was too oblivious and immersed in working on her materials for the youth center.
"Quinn", Santana finally said.
"Hmm"
"We need to talk"
Quinn turned around and had a bemused expression. "Please don't tell me you're also breaking up with me."
"Funny ha ha", Santana retorted without bite.
Quinn glanced at her watch. "What are you still doing here, anyway? Are you planning to sleep here?"
"I could…"
Quinn chuckled. Well, Santana had very much taken over her bed, with her arms and legs stretched in four corners and stared at the ceiling.
"Fine by me. I've got extra toiletries in the bathroom cabinet and just grab anything you want from my closet."
"I missed this, you know?", Santana blurted out.
"What? Being annoyed by me?"
"Yep, and also…just hanging out with you."
"We see each other often"
"Not as often since you moved here"
Santana squirmed under Quinn's scrutinizing gaze. Busted.
The blonde smirked. "What's really bothering you, S?"
"Nothing", the Latina frowned.
"You're being extremely sentimental. That means, you're either hormonal or guilty of something that you fear I will get stark raving mad at you."
"Fuck you", Santana growled but was followed by a guilty expression.
"You've softened up through the years, S", Quinn laughed then sat next to the brunette. "Come on, what's wrong?"
Santana sighed loudly then sat up and tucked her knees. "Q, I need to level with you on something. And I don't really know how you'll take it."
Quinn aped her friend's actions until they sat face to face. "Okay", she nodded.
"How we are these past few years were, like, very different from how we were in McKinley, right? We're not just frenemies or competition. We're—"
"S", Quinn smiled and placed her hand on Santana's knee in a reassuring manner. "We've grown up, okay? If we weren't so clear about where our friendship was heading back then, I'm pretty sure we know by now we've got a strong one."
"Right", Santana nodded then breathed deeply. "Okay, so…", she looked at Quinn then quirked her eyebrows, "so I think I may be attracted to someone."
"Aww, S. You know I think you're also attractive", Quinn sniggered.
"Shut up", Santana pouted.
"Okay, just kidding." Quinn straightened up and put her serious face on. "You like someone. How's this related to me?"
"Be…cause you sorta liked this person before?", Santana said timidly with one of her eyes closed and slowly leaning backwards as if preparing herself to dodge Quinn's punch.
Quinn looked to her right and furrowed her brows before realization kicked in. "Holy crap", she mumbled with her eyes as huge as saucer plates. "You like Emily", she breathed out.
"I swear, I never meant for that to happen, Q"
Quinn scratched her neck and still could not react as she slowly processed the information. She slowly returned her attention at a very nervous Latina in front of her. "How and when?"
"I don't know when exactly", the Latina admitted with her shoulders slumped. "I just know I do."
"And…and she likes you back?"
Santana slumped further. "I don't know. I haven't told her."
"Because of me?"
"Yeah…pretty much. And well, I don't know how she, you know. I mean, she didn't want to have a committed relationship with you, right?"
"Oh, well, ours was a complicated story. She read me like a book and knew I wasn't ready to jump back in something like that."
"Well, I think you're getting too comfortable being a social butterfly these days."
"Are we talking about my life right now…?"
The Latina rolled her eyes and huffed. "We'll eventually have to talk about that, too, you know?"
"Yeah, but not right now."
"Yeah, okay. So anyway, those two pretty much make up the reasons why I haven't turned on my irresistibly Latin-hot charms at her."
"I can't really say much about your chances with Em. But you've got nothing to worry about me. Not in relation to that, anyway"
Santana visibly relaxed but still looked doubtful. "You sure? Because I can back off, you know."
Quinn chuckled and shook her head. "No need to back off, S. I promise. Had you told me this a few months back, I probably would have felt…slightly offended? But I can honestly say I don't feel anything towards her that way anymore."
"How do you feel about this, though?"
"A little weirded out", Quinn laughed. "But mostly fascinated. I mean..", she shrugged, "I didn't see this coming. At all."
"Why's that?", the Latina frowned.
"Well, first, physically, she isn't your type. And well, she's not…Britt."
"Santana chuckled. "Britt's special to me. She'll always be. But she's moved on. She has a good life in California and a boyfriend who loves and respects her very much. In the end, that's all I ever wanted for her. A good life and someone who could take her of her as good as I had, or better."
"So, you've decided to move on."
"Not consciously. I don't compare Britt to Emily simply because they can't be compared. Brittany holds a special place in my heart because she made me feel invincible at a time when I felt so vulnerable."
"And Em? How does she make you feel?"
Santana pressed her lips and smiled as she bobbed her head several times. "Like a woman? You know?"
"No, actually, I don't. Because she always treated me as a child."
"Oh", the Latina looked at her with sympathetic gaze.
"She makes you feel that and yet you haven't gone out yet?"
"Yeah, bitch makes me talk so much without trying."
"She's in Ireland"
"Video chat", Santana mumbled in one breath.
Quinn bit her inner cheek and fought the urge to laugh. "You're turning into a sap"
"I know" Santana laid down on her back and sighed dramatically. "The darkness of my solitude is done. She—my rising sun"
Quinn's mouth gaped. "Did you just quote a poem?"
"Yeah, what? I'm smart."
"You're also gross."
So the first thing Santana did once Emily got back to New York is to ask her out.
And Quinn found herself in the same situation with Emily as with Santana—asking permission.
Quinn felt like the godfather in a Chinese mafia with all the kowtowing she received in order to receive her approval. It was funny but heartwarming at the same time. Other people may have had issues with this, but come on, Quinn and Santana shared boys in the past. And they were just boys. We're talking about Santana falling in love, here. Emily and Santana were kind of cute together. They curb each other's crazy. It's early days, but somehow, the steadiness that runs between her two friends make Quinn believe that they could be in for the long haul. How can Quinn really have an issue with it?
She was back to square one by taking Andrea out to dinner. Quinn was getting bored. She knew how this will end tonight, and how she will end it completely. She's going for it anyway. It was a Friday night and everyone's out. The last thing she wanted to be was the third wheel in Emily and Santana's date (though the two insisted on taking her).
She thought of Rachel. She never got bored of the diva.
But Andrea isn't Rachel.
And the blonde is getting tired of talking about the social sciences.
"Wanna go back to my place?", Quinn finally said.
"I—yeah, sure", Andrea smiled and nodded eagerly.
Quinn knew what it meant to love. She just wasn't ready for it again. So, she led Andrea in and made coffee that she was sure will turn cold and untouched.
Making out on the couch wasn't really a bad way of spending Friday nights.
It's just. It's not enough.
A/N: I'd have to ask forgiveness for the length of this chapter(considering how long the others had been). Simply put, it's a transitional section, so yay that we're about to end angst :-) (Well, maybe not absolutely)