Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.

Guys, we're so going to get there on time. I'll post the next chapter Saturday (or maybe Friday if I have time). Can I just go ahead and thank those who reviewed the last chapter? You guys are precious darlings that keep me motivated. For that, I cannot thank you enough. Much love to you guys! Don't forget to review and as always, enjoy! :)

Prom posters adorned the hallways all across the McKinley campus, so much that it was hard to talk about anything else.

"Do you want to go to prom?" Anne asked, looking at Sam across the table. They were currently studying in the library, quiet whispers and giggles in the background.

"Um," Sam started. "I don't think I can that weekend. I think I have to babysit."

There was a tinge of disappointment inside of Anne, but it wasn't like she could yell at him for it. She'd been distant the past couple of weeks, using all of her energy to focus on the set list for Nationals. She and Sam had barely talked outside of school lately; it was hard to tell if they really were still together. The only thing that seemed to physically remind her was the promise ring on her finger.

But even that seemed like a distant memory. She didn't want to face the fact that they were growing apart.

"Oh. Okay. That's fine, I guess. Maybe I could come over and we could all watch a movie?" she offered, her eyes watching as Sam fussed in his chair. Did she say something wrong?

"You okay?" she asked, frowning.

"It's just, I don't think I'm allowed to have anyone over, is all," Sam offered. He fidgeted with his book before shutting it. "Hey, I have to get to class, I'll see you at lunch, okay?"

Before she could respond, he got up and left her alone. She bit her lip, wondering what exactly had just happened. Perhaps Rachel could give her some advice.

"Maybe he's just shy about having girls over at his house," Rachel said, shutting her laptop. Her and Anne had video chatted with Jesse for a solid two hours before he'd had to leave for rehearsals.

"Maybe," Anne said, chewing her lip.

"How's your brother?" Rachel asked, crisscrossing her legs.

"Grant's fine. He said that the Dalton Warblers are preparing to sing at the mall again." Anne smiled. "He has a new boyfriend."

"Really? Tell me the details, please," Rachel said, laughing a bit.

"Apparently he's a redhead," Anne said, making a face. "But I haven't seen him officially so maybe he's actually kind of good looking."

"For Grant's standards? Of course," Rachel said. She remembered when she'd met Grant. It had been on one of those weekends when Jesse visited. They'd all met up for coffee and a movie. She found Jesse's little brother to be extremely insightful with a dry humor. But as far as she had experienced, he was fun to be around. He was also a closeted diva, according to Jesse.

"I just…I can't shake the feeling that Sam and I are growing apart. I kind of blame myself," Anne said after a moment.

Rachel gave her a sympathetic look. "I wish I could give you more insightful advice but to be honest, Jesse's my first real boyfriend. I can't really speak from experience."

Anne nodded. "I understand. I just wish I'd been more honest with him."

"What exactly aren't you telling him, Anne?"

The younger girl shrugged. "It's… It's complicated."

Rachel's lips turned down as she saw Anne's posture become rigid. The girl wrapped her arms around herself.

"Is everything okay? I mean you have been kind of distant lately and I know it isn't because of Jesse or Grant."

"Rachel," Anne whispered, her voice shaking a bit. "If I tell you, you have to promise not to say anything to anyone else."

Rachel became alarmed. "Um, sure?"

Anne looked at the pink rug, her eyes getting lost in the fuzziness.

"Just before Regionals, one of the guys…One of the guys on the football team…"

"What did they do to you?" Rachel asked, worried. She knew that they could be awful bullies when it came to outsiders—especially to the members in glee. But Anne was so quiet, so shy and reserved during school hours, despite how much she'd grown in the club. Why would anyone pick on her? What was the point?

Anne breathed deeply. "They harassed me."

Rachel's mouth fell open, a million thoughts processing in her head all at once. "Anne, that's serious. Why didn't you tell anyone about this? What happened?"

"He just said stuff and he, well, he kind of pinned me against the lockers. It's okay—It wasn't like I was forced into anything-"

"That's still serious!" Rachel exclaimed. "Harassment is serious, Anne. You can't just stay quiet about it!"

"I didn't want to say anything because I didn't want to be that freak again," Anne said, standing up. She grabbed her books. "I need to get home."

"Anne, you need to tell someone about this. What he did isn't right. It may not have been full on rape but it's still pretty close."

"This is why I didn't want to say anything!" Anne shouted. "I knew this would get blown out of proportion!"

"Hey!" Rachel said back. She got up quickly. "I'm just worried about you. I'm supposed to take care of you—to make sure you're okay."

"Rachel, I appreciate the sentiment but you're not my mother. You're not supposed to take care of me."

On that note, Anne shut Rachel's bedroom door behind her. Rachel ran a hand through her hair, debating on whether she should tell Jesse or not.

Uh, yes? This is serious stuff about HIS SISTER, one part of her argued.

Um, how about you stay out of her business? You promised you wouldn't say anything to anybody.

"I can't," she said after moments of debate. She knew that it was wrong to betray Anne like that, but if she didn't say anything to Jesse, that would make her more of a monster if things got worse.

Rachel bit her lip, taking her time to reach for her cellphone.

"Rachel?" Jesse asked from the other line, his voice tentative in the receiver. Rachel didn't know how to say it out loud…not to him. "Are you trying out another practical joke? What did we talk about last time-"

"This isn't a joke," she finally said, her courage peaking. "It's about Anne. Something's happened."

"What's wrong?" Jesse asked in sudden alarm.

She licked her lips, a habit she had adopted from her boyfriend over the course of their relationship—it was something he did when he got anxious or upset and right now Rachel was feeling a wanton of emotions.

"She just told me today that some freak on the football team…He harassed her. Sexually."

"Excuse me?!"

"Jesse-"

"Who was he? His name? I'll kill him!" he raged. There was a muffled shuffle from the other line and she furrowed her brows in confusion.

"Jesse?!"

"I'm flying over there now."

Rachel protested quickly. "You can't! She'll hate us more for knowing. She barely wanted to tell me Jesse and she begged me not to say anything—don't make this worse on her."

"Worse on her? Rachel, my little sister was harassed. This is no joke. This is no accident. This is serious and I'm going to kick the guy's ass!"

"I will help her," Rachel said stoutly. She ran her free hand through her hair. "I will find her help…in her own time, Jesse. You can't force her to talk. It's traumatizing as it is and for now, all I can do is watch out for her as I try to convince her she needs to talk to a professional about this—she needs help."

"How bad is it?" Jesse asked after a pause. His throat was scratchy from the impulsive yelling.

"She's acting different. More detached and distant. I can only imagine what she's feeling…"

"This isn't the first time," he said quietly. "Rach, you have to understand that Anne's always had a case of being depressed. She'll blame herself for everything and I'm stupid for being so far from her when she needs help."

"What happened to her? In the past, I mean," Rachel said.

There was a rustle in the other line. "She was bullied. People called her and Grant the bastard children—they were pretty much isolated before Grant was sent to Dalton and she was sent to a private school. Grant's fine, obviously. A little cynical but fine. Anne on the other hand…She's always been a silent brooder."

"What does that mean? Did she…Did she harm herself?" Rachel guessed.

"In a way, yes. She wouldn't eat or drink anything to the point of total starvation. One summer we almost lost her, Rach."

"Oh God," she said, covering her mouth. "Listen…I can watch out for her—make sure she doesn't harm herself—I can try to get her help, professional help."

"Are you sure it'll be worse if I fly down there?"

"You'll cause a scene and she may never forgive you, Jesse."

"God," he said.

"It's going to be okay. I know it is," Rachel said seconds later.

"When did you become an optimist?" he asked.

"When I realized that being negative wasn't getting me anywhere in life. I love you, you know."

"I know," he said tenderly. "What a mess this is, huh?"

"Life is messy, Jesse. That much I've learned through all this drama we've gone through. Luckily we've come back stronger."

"And we're never letting go," Jesse added. "I love you, you know," he said, mimicking her previous question. There was something oddly comforting in his gesture, something that made Rachel's chest ache for his physical presence. Talking over the phone wasn't the same—it just hadn't been.

"I know," she said soundly.

"What's this about?" Puck yelled as he stormed into the choir room. All heads turned to him quickly—usually Puck was the chill one. "What blonde teen mom is having a secret moonlight motel rendezvous with another big-lipped glee club blondie?"

"What?" Sam asked in confusion. "Where does it say that?"

"Second page of the school newspaper, Trouty Mouth!" Puck snapped, throwing the paper in Sam's face.

Quinn got up from her seat quickly and grabbed Puck's shoulder. "You don't seriously believe that, do you?"

"At this point I'm not sure what to believe—it was right about Santana!" he said, his voice shaking in anger.

The Latina in question yelled something back in Spanish, her own copy of the newspaper being crushed in her fist. "First of all, that's not true—second of all, Brittany, what the hell? You told the whole world that I played for the other team?!"

"You do… you were a cheerleader and now you're in glee club. You play for the other team, I don't get why you're mad…" Brittany justified.

Santana scoffed. "And you couldn't have said that another way?"

"You know, you've got a lot of nerve accusing me of this," Sam spoke up, his blue eyes offended.

"Trouty Mouth, I swear if you say one more thing—" Puck started before Finn intervened.

"Whoa, whoa, calm down Puck. Sam wouldn't do that and you know Quinn would never cheat on you!" Finn shouted, grabbing a hold of Puck's shoulders. Quinn had backed up and was looking extremely pissed as she read the paper.

"'Which glee club brunette has the hots for a tall Linebacker?! They were seen pretty close against the lockers'? What is this crap?" Quinn said, crumpling up the paper. "This is all a bunch of nonsense, Puck!"

"Not all of it," Kurt sidelined. "Apparently Mr. Sanders was sleeping with the school secretary in the janitors closet on Thursday afternoons."

"Kurt, not helping!" Quinn seethed, trying her best to calm Puck down. "Puck please! Between classes, cheerio and glee practice, and Beth, do you really think I'd have time to cheat on you? Or the energy for that matter?"

"How can I trust you, Quinn?" Puck asked angrily. He shook off Finn. "You lied your ass of last year to Finn, making him believe Beth was his. Tell me you aren't a great liar. Tell me."

Quinn's unwavering green eyes never left Puck's solid ones. When Mr. Schuester entered the room asking questions, Puck shook his head.

"Puck, where are you going?"

"I have something I need to do," Puck snapped, walking out.

Quinn stood there, her eyes watering as she tried to hold in her angry tears. She was not about to cry—she couldn't. Not in front of her team members.

"He's such an idiot," she cut in roughly, taking her seat again. "Sorry Mr. Schue. He'll be back later or tomorrow."

"Do you need to take a moment, Quinn?" the teacher asked warily. He'd had his fair share of teenage drama and yet he still wasn't accustomed to the angst it had.

"No, no. Let's move on, please," she said.

Everyone took their seats. Sam passed by her, whispering an apology and that he hadn't seen that coming but she shrugged it off.

The glee club was currently gathered around a library table, albeit Sam, Kurt, Anne and Puck.

"What do we really know about Sam anyway?" Tina asked. "What town is he from? What state? What's his old school like? Maybe he's a serial killer?"

"He's not a serial killer and I'm pretty sure Kurt wouldn't cheat on Blaine," Quinn said.

"Why are we talking about a rumor?" Finn asked. "Doesn't this seem kind of lame?"

"Finn's right," Rachel said as she put her phone away. Jesse had constantly been texting her since she'd told him about Anne because as luck would have it, Anne was ignoring Jesse and Rachel—Rachel's betrayal had really pissed her off. "We need more information."

"I don't want to get into it," Quinn said at last. "All I'm going to say is that Sam is not gay."

All members shared a look.

"Oh please. I don't mean to say it like I know personally, sheesh," Quinn added. "He has a girlfriend, remember?"

"Could just be a beard," Santana said. "Not that I would know anything about that."

Quinn sighed and shook her head, grabbing her purse and walking away from the table.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "I suggest we keep staking out. Maybe we'll find something."

"You are seriously running out of options, aren't you? Stop trying to snoop around, Rachel. Sleuth is not your color."

"Kurt! You know something—I know you do. Now, unless you've decided to cheat on Blaine-"

"Whoa there, let me stop you Berry," Kurt said, shutting his locker. "You may be one of my closest friends but you never seem to stop surprising me with how nosy you can be."

Rachel opened her mouth but Kurt held up a hand.

"Sam isn't gay and I'm not cheating on Blaine. Please, have you looked at Blaine?" Kurt shook his head. "Sorry, off topic. Anyway, there's nothing bad happening. Just…Leave it be, Rachel."

"What is with the secrets?" Rachel screeched, walking away after Kurt made a zip-my-mouth-shut-throw-away-the-key motion. Nobody was being honest and with the school newspaper only adding fuel to the rumor fire, matters were getting drastic. Was Quinn really cheating on Puck with Sam? And what about Anne? Was him cheating the reason why he didn't want Anne over at his house?

Rachel kept trying to deduce this all as Quinn sang 'Go Your Own Way' in order to get through to Puck. The only solution that kept coming back was that Quinn and Sam were having an affair, but Sam didn't look like the type of boy who would cheat.

Go your own way…

"What a load of bull!" Puck said.

Quinn narrowed her eyes and Mr. Schuester turned to look at him in pure disbelief.

"Puck, that was incredibly rude and uncalled for."

"She started it. Just admit that you're a cheater!" Puck accused, standing up.

Quinn shook her head. "For the last time I am not cheating!"

"Then what is going on?" Rachel questioned.

The blonde looked around the room, letting out a frustrated breath. "This is awful. Why can't you guys just trust me and see that nothing is happening?"

"Maybe because you've lied before?" Tina tried.

Santana shrugged. "And you manipulate people."

"It's not my place to say," Quinn said finally, her voice low. She fidgeted with her hands. "I can't say." She looked at Kurt, who looked like he was about ready to kill himself right there and then.

"She's right. It's not our place to say."

"Then how could I possibly believe you?" Puck asked again.

Quinn bit her lip and Kurt groaned.

"You realize that they are never going to let this go…they were bound to find out eventually, Quinn."

Quinn nodded. "Fine. But you all asked for it and I've tried my best to let it go but no one here is mature enough to handle that. Sam's homeless and I've only visited him at the motel because that's where he's currently living. I babysit his little siblings with Beth."

Kurt sighed. "I gave him clothes."

The air was heavy as the guilt seeped into them.

"I'm sorry I didn't believe you guys," Puck said at last.

Quinn crossed her arms and Mr. Schuester stood up. "Is that why he hasn't been to a lot of rehearsals lately?"

"He's out looking for an after-school job," Kurt said. "Aside from delivering pizzas, of course."

"Oh my God," Mr. Schuester said. He looked at Anne. "Did you know about this?"

Anne shook her head, shocked. There was relief in knowing that Sam hadn't cheated on her with Quinn, and there was also a blow from the fact that he'd hid such a big part of his life from her.

Isn't that what you're doing? Aren't you keeping secrets?

Anne sighed, clutching the sides of her chair as Mr. Schuester tried to wean more information out of Kurt and Quinn.

Karma sucks.

The air was surprisingly chilly as Anne made her way to the motel Rachel had told her. The older brunette had already visited Sam along with Finn—together they had talked to the younger boy and convinced him to stay in the club. Heck, they'd even gathered enough funds to buy back Sam's guitar from the pawnshop.

It had hurt her to know that he'd done such a thing—that he had pawned his beloved guitar because of how badly his family was struggling for money.

She reached room number eight, the red door seeming to grow bigger and bigger against her dainty hand. She knocked twice before a little girl answered the door.

"Oh, hi. Is Sam in here?"

"Sammy!" the little girl called. Sam appeared and the second he realized it was Anne, he looked down, telling his little sister to go watch some television.

"Stacy, can I speak with my friend for a moment?" he asked kindly. The little smiled and went away and Sam stepped out, shutting the door gently behind him.

"Did Rachel tell you?"

"Sort of, I guess," she said. "Can we sit and talk?"

Sam nodded. "Of course," he said, motioning to the wooden steps.

"Why didn't you just tell me, Sam?" she asked tenderly.

He shrugged. "You see how information flies around McKinley. Do you think anybody would have believed the truth? Do you think the guys on the football team would ever let me live this down? I'd be more of a freak that I already am."

"You're not a freak," she defied. "I'm sorry about your parents."

"It happens. The economy goes to crap and the last ones hired are the first ones out. That's just how jobs work. It's not like I can go back to Tennessee. We sold our home there to come over here."

He placed his face in his hands, rubbing forcefully as if he were trying to wake himself from a dream. A shitty dream, at that.

"I didn't want you to know because I didn't want you thinking about how much trash I am now."

"Hey," Anne protested, shaking her head. Her grey eyes were stormy. He wouldn't look at her.

"I could never think that," Anne said softly. Her small hand touched his cheek, pulling him ever so slightly in her direction. "You're so kind, Sam. You're considerate. You're never afraid to tell me when I'm being a complete weirdo, and you're so special," she swallowed thickly. "You commit so wholeheartedly. That's something I couldn't do for the longest time, you know."

Sam blinked rapidly, trying his hardest not to cry. He didn't want to cry—he'd already let out tears when Rachel and Finn had visited and he'd had his share of vulnerable moments.

"I've never been so sure of anything. My brother and I were the product of an affair—for the longest time I thought that I didn't deserve to exist, that I was a mistake. And ever since I was little, it seemed to me that mistakes never deserved to be happy—to be safe, secure, and home. But with you," she said with a strange certainty that warmed Sam's heart. "With you I'm home. And that's all life is about. Finding a place—a safe haven where you are loved. A home."

"Don't," he whispered.

"Don't what?" she insisted.

Sam breathed out. "Don't make it seem like this doesn't make you want to pull away from me—like this doesn't make you want to leave and find somebody better."

"It doesn't matter if you live in a motel or in a mansion, you are my home and I am yours, and I love you," she finalized, her eyes determined to get her point across. In one swift movement, she leaned in and placed her lips to his in a solid kiss.

When it seemed like it wasn't enough, she leaned against him, feeling the warmth from his body and wishing she could just make him see exactly what she meant.

Deepening the kiss, she thought back to her guilt—to her secret that haunted her every night and made her feel dirty and cheap. It was something that racked her every moment she was alone, something that propelled her into a darkness she couldn't escape from on her own. But being with him right now gave her hope. Being with Sam gave her a sense of light in that darkness, made it a bit more manageable.

He broke the kiss, holding her close.

"You're sure you want to stick around?"

She nodded. "Always."

Giselle's high heels clicked against the floors of McKinley High. There was a smirk plastered on her face as she pushed open the office doors, her hand doing a small wave as the administrators came into her line of vision.

You're a bad bitch, you know, she thought smugly, laughing at some idle joke the Indian principal made. They were idiots and it would be easy to get the job of show choir consultant—after all, one of Giselle's many remarkable traits was the fact that she could charm herself into anything she wanted.

And what she wanted was to bring down New Directions. But most importantly, she wanted to destroy everything Rachel Berry was. Call it a personal vendetta or that she was practically hired by Jesse's mother, she was enjoying it.

After Nationals last year, Jesse had basically outed Chris' age to the judges, costing Chris the MVP award for choreography. Chris had angrily dumped her and dropped out of school just shy of graduating (idiot). This made her bitter—but not at the oaf that had broken up with her so easily, no, she'd gotten him fired from his dancing job many months ago. The whole affair made her bitter because she hated seeing other people, namely Jesse who didn't deserve it, get a happy ending. Not to mention, with Shelby's resignation from Vocal Adrenaline two weeks before graduation, Giselle had lost her one connection to the dance school she'd wanted to get into. Now she had been forced to take regular community college classes.

The Lopez girl had done her part, although it seemed like Jesse and Rachel were stronger than ever.

No biggie, Giselle thought as she signed papers. Getting them to stop trusting each other will be easy—Jesse is paranoid and Berry is insecure.

"Welcome aboard the McKinley High train," the head administrator said.

Giselle smiled like the Cheshire Cat. "Fantastic."