Getting It Right – Old Faces And New Allies
Jesse did a double take so sharply that his foot slipped on the accelerator, forcing him to wrench the wheel into an awkward angle and hit the brakes in order to avoid denting his fender on some wretched little rust bucket just in front of him. Cursing under his breath, he quickly resumed control and returned his attention to the sun drenched blacktop just outside the school, hoping that no-one had witnessed his momentary falter of concentration as he proceeded to slide the purring Porsche gracefully into a vacant space and cut the engine.
Taking a deep breath he wasn't even conscious of, his eyes immediately found their way back to the vehicle that sat just a few spaces away, quiet and empty and yet so very familiar it made his throat tighten and stomach knot up uncomfortably. He studied it in silence, gaze narrowed in scrutiny, trying to talk his rational mind out of a conclusion it really didn't want to accept. He knew it was a long shot; that it could just be a fluke – but Jesse had never believed in coincidences and the feeling in his gut only served to confirm his instinct.
He knew that car. It was the same car he had seen in Carmel's parking lot for the better part of four years. The same car he had slipped into on a rain soaked and fateful night so many moons ago. It was her car.
Tapping his thumb against the steering wheel, Jesse let his mind turn over this surprising new development for a few more minutes, his emotions caught up in a wary turmoil he hadn't experienced in a very long time. This was something he had not expected or prepared for, and he allowed himself a moment to contemplate all the potential fallout this little visit could unleash. Still, that wasn't about to stop him or change his mind. Nothing like a blast from the past to stir up trouble, he thought with a grim smile. Finally, he set his jaw, straightened up and stepped out of the cool air-conditioning of his car and into the glaring sun of bright afternoon.
He was a born player first and foremost and Jesse wasn't about to walk away from the game this time. It was now or never.
/o/
She found him first, just like he knew she would.
The auditorium was quiet and still, yet ever thrumming softly with anticipation – the constant promise of explosive drama and soaring song that echoed within its walls even now. It was nowhere near as impressive as the stage in Carmel or UCLA, but he had to admit, it did have a certain quirky charm. It would suffice anyway.
Crossing his arms, he leant back against the row of seats and regarded the open stage before him with a critical eye. The auditions were only scheduled to start tomorrow but already his astute mind and perfectionist nature had turned towards the task of envisaging how to bring her adopted show to the stage in the best possible way. West Side Story. He shrugged slightly to himself. Not one of his favourites but he could appreciate why she'd chosen it – and she would be the perfect Maria. A small smirk passed over his face. He would make sure of that.
His magnanimous agreement to help out with the musical had been an easy call to make. Unsurprisingly and to his mild amusement, the obvious decision had drawn some blundery objections from Finn, but as Jesse had smugly pointed out – he had more musical theatre experience than all of them put together and they would be frankly idiots to overlook it. Finn's sulking had only increased when Rachel had also duly voiced her support for his appointment– 'for the good of the show, of course' – and the discussion was quickly settled and moved on to the next order of business. True, Jesse was less than thrilled about being assigned to work with Artie, the school's football coach and Schuester's OCD girlfriend for the project – but it was nothing he couldn't handle. They may not like it but they knew they needed him and unlike Schuester, he was more than capable of multi-tasking his extensive skill set effectively between this and winning Nationals. Besides, he smiled to himself – it was an opportunity he just couldn't pass up.
Jesse suddenly stiffened, a splinter of tension wracking his muscles invisibly as he was drawn from his reverie by a silent interruption he knew all too well.
She'd always had an inimitable presence, unmistakable even after all this time. He didn't move an inch from his position, no flicker on his expression to betray him even as he heard her speak up at last; the cool silk of her tone raking through his body in a shiver of déjà vu as she made her way down towards where he stood at the front of the auditorium.
"I heard you'd dropped out of college."
It was a statement, not a question of interest or even a subject of conversation. The assumption in her voice and confidence in her steps were just as assured as he remembered, and he wasn't at all surprised with her tactical choice of approach. He could smell the familiar whisper of her perfume as she came to a stop just a few seats away from him, close enough to just barely invade his personal space but still far enough to establish the boundaries of status.
She always set the stage on her own terms.
A tight smile curved his mouth for the briefest moment. It was nice to know that some things didn't ever change. She would always be the teacher, the mentor, the authority he both admired and resented – the connection that had ultimately driven them apart in a void of unspoken betrayal. Just like he would forever be the apprentice under her shadow in some way, her influence over him too great to ever fully negate. Whatever else might change between them, she would always retain that pull of superiority, that edge of control.
He was aware that their dynamic had always been an odd one, more intense than mere coach and student but perhaps never quite enough to forgive and forget. Such a conflicted history was not one easily smoothed over, despite the hollow sense of comfort to be gleaned from the familiarity of old ties. Even after all that had passed and divided their lives, Jesse could still feel the sense of mutual understanding and established respect that had lingered unbroken between them. Whether he had any semblance left of the privileged role of favour he had once held in her eyes, remained to be seen. He suspected not, but Shelby always played a cagey hand.
"Still keeping tabs on us?" he remarked with a hint of a smile, not taking his eyes from the stage in front of him, unwilling to meet her face just yet.
"Call it a vested professional interest," she replied evasively with a slight shrug. Her tone was calm and level and hard to read, guarded in a way she had rarely been with him when they had been alone, back in their old lives – back before it had all gone to hell. He thought he detected an air of judgement and disappointment in her voice, tinged with the accusation of wariness and suspicion. Jesse dipped his head in acknowledgment but said nothing, in no real rush to assuage her uneasiness.
"Though I have to say," she went on carefully, words heavily pointed despite the deceptive lightness in her voice. "I never expected to find you back here."
"I could say the same for you." He finally glanced over to her, taking in the mask of her features and set of her stance in the blink of an eye, the way the lines of her strategically placed dress clung to her figure as she laid one elegant hand against her hip. "I take it you're not here as the reluctant saviour of a woefully ailing Vocal Adrenaline."
"No," she confirmed, a faint smile touching her lips. "Not that they didn't try. And after that dismal performance at Nationals, who would blame them."
Jesse nodded in agreement, stubbornly shoving aside the unpleasant memories evoked by that particular last trip of his to New York. "Can't say I'm surprised that they no longer have what it takes," he said, allowing himself a thin smirk as he caught her gaze for a moment. "Goolsby never did have your imagination."
"I'm flattered," she murmured dryly, though the corner of her lips tilted in the promise of a smile.
Jesse turned his attention away again, a frown crossing his brow even as he lifted his shoulders indifferently. "I am surprised, though, that you ever agreed to leave New York. I thought you finally had everything you wanted." He heard the bitterness creeping into his voice and quickly buried it once more. "Wasn't that the whole point?"
Shelby sighed, curbing the defensiveness in her own tone with far greater success. "I was offered a job and I took it."
Jesse couldn't help the scoff that escaped him as he arched an incredulous eyebrow in her direction. "Coaching that tone-deaf rich brat? Please." He studied her closely, eyes sharp and knowing. "You never wanted to be stuck in Lima anymore than I did."
"Perhaps," she admitted with a soft breath, lowering her head an inch as if in weary resignation, but Jesse knew better than to take her at appearances. "But it's here that I made my mistakes and it's here that I have to try and put them right."
"For them or for you?"
She hesitated a moment before replying, voice low but firm. "Hopefully for all of us."
Jesse shook his head and glanced away, eyes narrowed in thought. "You know it doesn't work that way. Someone always loses."
There was silence for long moment.
"You're right," she said at last, a quiet force and determination in her voice that made him clench his jaw painfully in anticipation. She turned towards him, a challenge in her eyes which he met just as evenly, both aware of the battle line drawn up through her next words. She almost seemed to exhale the question in an impatient sigh. "What are you doing here, Jesse?"
He almost smiled at that, undecided about whether to indulge her. Of course she knew. He held her gaze for a dramatic pause before breaking away and looking out over the stage again. "You're not the only one with unfinished business."
He felt her eyes sweeping over him, shrewd and calculating in assessment, trying to break through the implacable show face that she herself had so rigorously instilled in him all those years ago. Shelby stood up straight and rigid as she regarded her former student and once willing ally, arms locked over her chest and gaze just as hard as her voice.
"I won't let you hurt her."
Jesse chuckled darkly. "Little late for all that, isn't it?" he pointed out, turning to confront his old coach in almost bored accusation. "You're just as guilty in this as I am."
Shelby didn't even flinch. "I never told you to publically humiliate her," she countered firmly, only an echo of retrained anger in her tone.
"No," he agreed sarcastically with a mirthless smile. "You taught us to succeed, to win, no matter what the cost." The air in the auditorium was frosty with simmering resentment, the tension as brittle as glass, and yet neither looked away nor made any indication of backing down. "You were never one to split hairs over methods before," Jesse argued coolly. "Results were what mattered, right? When did you ever care what happened to her heart?"
Shelby visibly stiffened but quickly gathered herself. "I'm still her mother –"
"Don't," Jesse snapped suddenly, pushing off from the row of seats to face her directly, voice rising vehemently. "Don't for one second pretend that you're here for Rachel."
If Shelby was shocked at all by his abrupt outburst, she didn't show it. "And I suppose you have nothing but her best interests at heart?" she demanded mockingly.
"You're hardly one to question my motives," he shot back, eyes dark with anger. "You don't know anything about me anymore." He knew it was an immature thing to say, but he found that he didn't care. Jesse studied the impassive face of his former coach, trying to calm the tense flow of oxygen that rose and fell through his chest. He shook his head slowly in soft curiosity. "You have no idea what you did, do you?"
Shelby frowned in disapproval, though her control remained carefully intact. "Don't lecture me, Jesse," she ordered dangerously. "Don't stand there as if you have any claim to the moral high ground – not after the things you did."
"I know what I did," he uttered through gritted teeth. "I live with it every day." He held her gaze for a few moments more before finally moving to stride past her, suddenly wanting nothing else than to get the hell out of here and find the chance to get his head together. "Why don't you just make your amends and I'll make mine," he muttered over his shoulder.
"Jesse –"
He heard her voice call out in command and reluctantly paused despite himself, stilling on the steps that led out of the auditorium and back into the rest of the school. Old habits die hard, he thought bitterly. He felt her take a step towards him but didn't turn around, tension knotted tight throughout his body as he waited to hear her parting words.
"I'm not here to cause trouble," she said at last. There was a hesitation, during which he suspected she was debating how to best phrase her next words. Her voice was low and calm and full of familiar authority when she spoke again, a thinly veiled warning that seemed to pound in his ears. "But if you do anything to try and come between me and my daughter – everything changes."
Jesse tilted his head and spared her one last glance, catching her eyes with equal distrust, before he turned on his heel and left the room in silence.
/o/
Rachel pressed her palms flat against the table and let her head drop, a long and deep sigh leaving her lips. She was pretty sure she couldn't feel like a worse friend right now. Sure, she had debated texting him to see if he was okay, if he would let her talk to him, but her cell phone was in her bag which was currently dumped with the rest of her day clothes in a stall in the girls' bathrooms. A place she should really be heading back to in order to change out her intricate but rather inconvenient period costume and back into 21st century attire. She still had classes to get to after all. School didn't stop and math class wouldn't wait – not even for Shakespeare.
Feeling the heat of the mirror's bulbs upon her neck, she wearily raised her head and glanced up again, and promptly frowned in surprise at the reflection she found over her shoulder.
"You really need to stop sneaking up on me," she muttered.
She saw a smirk tug his lips, as unapologetic as ever, taking a moment to let his eyes glide down her heavy velvet gown in soft amusement. Rachel was suddenly acutely aware of just how warm the layers of the thick costume were against her skin.
"I thought Romeo and Juliet was our thing," he teased reprovingly, a mischievous twinkle in his gaze that made her roll her eyes. Jesse tilted his head in something like curious approval. "I have to admit though, I never thought you could make one of the most famous tragedies of the literary world into a comedy. Impressive."
Rachel frowned as she caught his eyes in the mirror again. "You shouldn't have laughed."
The smile widened. "I wasn't the only one, if you recall."
She winced guiltily and looked down. "I can't believe I did that. I feel just awful, how could I do that to him? He was counting on me and I let him down."
Jesse waved away her concerns with a dismissive shrug. "People get typecast. It happens to every actor and it's just something you have to accept. Besides, Kurt isn't right for Tony. You know that."
She shook her head, objecting despite herself. "We shouldn't deny him the chance –"
"The arts are all about doing what's best for the greater good," he interrupted firmly. "Not for personal egos or friendships. Tough decisions are made all the time and it's always for the benefit of the performance. The show always comes first. You can't compromise quality for hurt feelings."
Rachel sighed, unable to refute the truth of his words, but feeling terrible all the same. "Do you think he could ever pass as straight?"
Jesse was thoughtful for a moment. He doubted it, but then again, people had been known to surprise him. Rarely, but it happened. "I don't know. You'd be amazed how convincingly some actors can play against type," he offered instead.
She found his reflection once more, a playful arch to her brows. "Could you?"
He only smiled that infuriating grin of his. One that told her she would have to discover the answer for herself one day.
Rolling her eyes, she lowered her gaze back to the table and bit her lip worriedly as her thoughts turned back to her humiliated friend. "I don't know if he'll forgive me."
"Of course he will," Jesse assured softly, the conviction of his voice causing her to meet his eyes again. "He's crazy about you."
Rachel felt her heart expand and then constrict painfully in the same breath. Unable to speak, she gave a shy smile before quickly looking away once more.
Turning her attention to the myriad of pins that adorned her hair, she sighed and reluctantly began the excruciating task of retrieving each tiny black grip that had been twisted into her scalp in an attempt to keep her unruly waves in place. Jesse had moved to her side and was now slouched against the edge of the dressing table, idly fingering the array of hair products scattered there with a look that was a mixture somewhere between disgust and intrigue. Rachel spared him a quick frown, feeling like she should tell him to go already and leave her alone but finding she really couldn't be bothered. He could hang around for a few more minutes if he wanted, as long as he wasn't too much of a nuisance.
A condition that Jesse was apparently unprepared to agree to.
"So where's your boyfriend," he inquired suddenly. He didn't sound the least bit interested in hearing her response and she was certain she didn't imagine the sarcastic inflection of distain that coated the word.
"Getting ready for the boot camp," she said after a brief hesitation. "Mr. Schue finally decided to step up our game and address some of our more notable weaknesses. It's good to see everyone taking our chances seriously at last." Her eyes travelled to her left, to his averted face and the small thoughtful crease that marred his brow as he turned a pair of hair straighteners over in his hands distractedly. "Your idea?"
A knowing smirk curved his lips as he lifted his head to meet her face. "I might have had a few choice words," he conceded.
Rachel nodded, suspecting as much. It made sense after all. If anyone was in a position to point out and truly understand the lethal power of VA's physical co-ordination – it was their former leading star. The fact that it inevitably occupied Finn for a few hours every afternoon was no doubt an added bonus that Jesse was enjoying immensely. Suddenly uncomfortable, Rachel hastily drew her gaze back to the mirror and raised her fingers to her hair once more.
"He's not auditioning?"
She felt the heat of his gaze lingering on her but resolutely ignored it, not deceived at all by the casually innocent pitch of his voice.
"No," she replied defensively, aware that he knew full well Finn's name was not on the audition sign up sheet. "He has a lot on his plate right now, what with Nationals and working at the garage to save up for college and stuff. It's not a big deal," she went on, unsure who she was actually trying to convince more.
The truth was that it bothered her more than she would admit. She loved Finn with all her heart and she wanted him to be happy, and yet she was finding it harder and harder to dismiss the growing fear in her mind. Not that Finn wasn't prepared to follow his dreams with the same passion she did – but that he actually was. And the fact was that their dreams and worlds simply didn't coincide.
No. Rachel shook her head to herself as she quickly forced aside the painful doubt. She would find a way to make Finn see that he was better than an ordinary life in an ordinary town, that he could make it to the bright lights by her side.
"Good to know he has his priorities sorted out."
She cast a scowl in Jesse's direction, picking up on the underhanded tone of the pointed comment. "Did you come here just to annoy me?" she demanded, returning her attention to the task of freeing her long hair from the tight braid of ribbons that currently bound it.
"No," he replied smugly, pushing away from the table to move behind her once more. Rachel trembled, trying in vain to suppress the shiver that ghosted over her skin as his hands came up to rest upon the plait that ran down her back. She felt his fingers sliding slowly through her hair, gently working the ebony tresses loose from the shimmering golden lace with such infinite care that she found she could raise no voice in objection, falling uncharacteristically quiet under his touch as she acquiesced to his assistance.
"I came to tell you that you have nothing to worry about." He saw her raise her eyes in confusion and smiled. "Your audition was absolutely stunning. You totally nailed it."
Rachel felt herself beaming, helpless to curb the silly grin that broke across her face. "Really?"
Jesse nearly laughed at her adorably excitable enthusiasm. "Really."
He held her gaze for an almost unbearably warm moment, before dutifully lowering his attention to the threads in his hands once more. Rachel averted her gaze also, the bubble of elation slowly deflating under the pressure of the memories that rose to the surface of her mind. She said it would be the perfect song…
Rachel took a deep breath, the thought leaving her almost without permission.
"Did you know she was coming back?"
Jesse stilled at her quiet question, fingertips gripping into her hair unconsciously as he found himself battling with a fresh wave of unsettled emotion, the same storm cloud of conflict that had been haunting him ever since he had walked out of the auditorium the other day. He felt the tension that stiffened the planes of Rachel's back under his hands at his silence, and mentally cursed himself. Her voice sounded so childlike in that one moment, almost lost and so heartbreakingly unsure. He had known this was coming, it was part of the reason he had sought her out – to make sure she was okay, to check that she was coping, more or less, with the recent turn of events. But now he suddenly found himself lacking the strength to have this conversation.
"No," he said softly.
Rachel nodded jerkily and he had to restrain himself from winding his hands tight into the silken locks under his fingers – anything to help ground himself to the solace of her warmth and presence, the only thing he could see clearly anymore in the ever-shifting haze of uncertainty.
"You did it for her. All of it."
"Rachel…"
His throat felt dry and his voice seemed to crack on the word, falling away under the weight of everything he couldn't say.
She shook her head, absently brushing aside the sentence he couldn't finish. "She came to see me," she went on instead, still staring down at her hands as she pressed her fingertips into the surface of the table. A weak smile trembled on her lips at the bittersweet memory. "The song – it was her suggestion. We sang it together actually…" She trailed off, her brow furrowing as she attempted to make sense of her own thoughts. The duet with Shelby had been beautiful and perfect and when she took her hand in hers, for one moment, Rachel had felt like everything would somehow work out for them. But then the music had ended, their hands had fallen and Shelby had smiled at her through the untouched pools of sadness in her eyes. A sadness and regret that would always be there. A path of lost opportunities they could never revisit together, no matter how much either wished it otherwise.
Jesse's gaze was torn as he watched Rachel's face through the mirror, a wretched pain building in his chest that threatened to tear him apart at the seams. He could say nothing as he watched her silently gather herself, blinking hard and quick as she drew a deep breath and set her expression once more. She was clearly still bitterly confused and conflicted over her feelings about this whole mess, unsure of where she stood or how to take the next step. A lot of that going around, he thought wryly.
She was still intently studying her hands on the table below her, twisting her fingers together in that nervous habit of hers. Suddenly suffocated by the silence, Jesse broke the quiet with the only thing he could think of.
"So she didn't try to make you switch teams then?" he asked as lightly as he could.
Rachel's lips tugged in a ghost of a smile. "Not yet. It's a ludicrous idea in the first place, but I made it very clear where my loyalty lies anyway." She hesitated, her voice lowering with doubt. "I'm not sure what she wants actually…If anything…" She glanced up and caught his eyes before quickly looking down again, features tightening almost in a wince of pain.
Jesse's hands gently dropped away from her hair, glancing over her back before abandoning contact completely, and Rachel shivered again as she felt the cool air that much more acutely in the sudden lack of warmth. She dug her teeth into her bottom lip to stop herself from protesting the inevitable withdrawal. She wouldn't ask him for anything or ever admit how much she enjoyed the forbidden grace of his touch. Even to herself.
"You should get to class," he murmured quietly without meeting her gaze.
Rachel studied him for a moment in the glass, looking like she wanted to speak. She opened her mouth and then closed it again, pressing her lips tight together.
"Yeah," she mumbled at last. Without another look or word, she picked up the heavy folds of her dress and walked away as gracefully as she could in the cumbersome garment, heading back in the direction of the girls' bathroom.
/o/
He found her sitting hunched up on the steps, a half-forgotten cigarette poised in her hand as she gazed out into the late afternoon sunlight with a dark frown – if possible, even more tragic looking than usual. He dropped himself down onto the step next to her in silence. Quinn stiffened but didn't verbally object to her uninvited company, neither sparing so much as a glance at each other in acknowledgment. Jesse didn't even pause to bother asking permission as he pulled a cigarette from the open pack that rested between them, cupping his hands around the small flame as he lit it up in his mouth.
She slid him a sideways look. "Since when do you smoke?"
He snapped the lighter shut and caught the cigarette between his fingers with a casual ease that suggested this certainly wasn't his first time. "I do have some vices, you know," he remarked dryly.
She sent him an impatient scowl and his mouth softened in a hint of a smile. "For a while when I was fifteen," he elaborated.
"Falling back into bad habits?"
He shrugged tiredly. "Rough week."
A bitter smile curled her lips as she returned her gaze outwards again. "I take it you're as thrilled with your dear mentor's return as the rest of us," she confirmed, sounding somewhat satisfied and utterly unsurprised at the fact.
"One big happy fucking family," he muttered. Jesse bent his head and tugged a restless hand through his mess of curls with a heavy sigh.
"And what would she say if she saw you hanging around with the delinquent and damaged teenage train wreck who isn't even fit to see her own child?" Quinn demanded almost idly, her nonchalant tone betrayed only by the clench of her knuckles and crashing waves of tormented anger in her eyes.
Jesse swept a glance over the profile of the girl beside him, pulling the cigarette back to his mouth as he contemplated his answer. "She'd kill me for smoking for a start," he said at last.
"But that's why you do it, isn't it?" Quinn challenged as she turned to face him, her eyes narrowing at him from under her black hat that she had yanked down low over her electric pink bangs. "Any opportunity to get one over on authority, right?"
Jesse only smiled. "Look at you," he drawled, voice softly mocking. "Getting all Little Miss Psychoanalysis."
Quinn eyed him sullenly, as if studying him properly for the first time. "You're not as hard to read as you think you are, you know."
"What am I then?"
She shrugged, flicking ash to the ground. "You're just selfish."
Jesse laughed but it was without much humour. "Everyone's selfish," he replied easily. "It's the only way to survive. At least I'm honest about it." He cast a look in her direction which Quinn refused to meet, turning her head away to examine the cigarette between her fingers.
He merely watched her for a moment, quietly turning over his own thoughts. She looked as fucked up as he felt, and the concept was hardly comforting. He knew what she was doing – turning her back on the world that she was convinced had screwed her over, lashing out at anyone and everything, desperately angry and lonely and set on self destruct. Jesse had witnessed for himself the latest victim of the skanks' bathroom ambushes earlier that day – hair dripping wet and wracked with hiccupping sobs, the girl had nearly crashed into him as she ran past in her haste to get away. The decent into violent bullying was not surprising, but it was a little disconcerting. Jesse drew the smoke into his lungs until it was painful, as if he could somehow burn away all the unwanted memories he had accrued during his short life. He'd been there before. And it was a path she didn't want to go down.
It was obvious that she was less than enthralled with Shelby's return, if possible even more so than him, and it wasn't hard to see why. A frown settled between his brows as he let his gaze wander over her face.
"Do you regret it?"
Quinn stiffened and took another drag, stubbornly holding her silence. He expected as much. He knew it was unfair. It was an impossible question.
"Do you?" she asked abruptly, firing the question back on him with a sharp glare.
Jesse raised an eyebrow, curious as to which dubious decision she was referring to. Coming back to Ohio; leaving it behind for the prize of a future he had then turned away from; ever agreeing to go along with Shelby's plan to infiltrate Rachel's life in the first place… It was a long list.
"I regret walking away from her," he said finally after a long and thoughtful pause. He bent his head and let his eyes unfocus on the haze of smoke that curled around his hand. A weary smile crossed his lips fleetingly. "Every day."
Quinn didn't reply, returning to her silence. She raised a hand to finger the silver necklace at her throat as she stared into nothing; her gaze lost somewhere he couldn't see.
"How much do you want to get her back?"
She started at the question, jerking back to him with suspicious eyes. Jesse held her stare calmly, watching as the resolve battled in her gaze, conflicting instincts warring against each other. Quinn swallowed hard, lowering her eyes to the stone step under them. "She's mine," she muttered thickly, almost too soft to hear.
Jesse gave an infinitesimal nod of understanding at her words, lifting his shoulders in a shrug. "Then the only question is, how far are you prepared to go to get what you want."
Quinn frowned as she eyed him in silence for a long moment, studying his closed expression as he gazed out across the quad. She knew that look, that frustration and pain of a heartache you could never heal on your own. She had just never expected to see it on him.
"You're still in love with her," she said quietly.
Jesse said nothing to her statement, his gaze dropping as he took a long drag and exhaled it almost in a sigh. After a moment of mutual quiet and reluctant understanding, he turned his head towards her.
"Do you still love him?"
She thought for a minute. "No…actually," she finally replied, surprised at her own answer. True, she would probably always love Finn in some way – he had been her first real relationship after all and first love was special. But she didn't love him anymore, though she had never fully realised it until this moment. And the acceptance of the end of that part of her life felt like a great relief somehow.
Jesse smiled in approval. "Knew you were smarter than you look."
Quinn rolled her eyes.
He stood up then, making to leave and crushing the burning cigarette out beneath his boot. It wasn't even half smoked.
"That's a waste of a good cigarette," she pointed out reprovingly, though she couldn't quite bring herself to inject the usual coolness into it.
He caught her eyes with a smirk. "I wouldn't say that."
/o/
Jesse winced as he passed the glitter strewn campaign posters that had sprung up to adorn the halls of McKinley over the last few days. It was like some kind of strange hallucinogenic trip, and it hurt to look at it for too long. Kurt really had no idea what he was getting into with student politics, none of them did. They lacked the necessary skills of manipulation, spin and charisma to play the popularity polls and climb the ladder. The 'quirky outsider' novelty would only get them so far. Frankly, if he didn't see another cotton pink candy rainbow or sparkling unicorn horn for the rest of the school year he would leave Lima happy.
Still, watching Kurt face off against Brittany in a debate for student president – he wouldn't miss that for the world.
Distracted by the sudden buzz of his cell phone, he dug it out and dutifully scrolled down to read the new message, unable not to smile as he saw the name that accompanied it.
Have you still not posted that damn cast list yet? It's not official until it's official, you know! Sigh. You're still coming to rehearsal, right? Oh and did you hear – Quinn is apparently back in the glee club. Good news for Nationals…I guess.
Jesse smirked to himself and slid the phone back into his pocket.
~o~
AN I'm aware that Shelby is OOC here, but I figure it's my Season AU so I'm allowed to take some creative license to suit my own evil ends. Mwhaha! Anyway, this episode turned out waaaay longer than I expected - I think because there was so much emotion to work through with Shelby's return just with Rachel and Quinn alone - so then also throwing Jesse into the mix was only ever going to lead to more angst! I'm exhausted now though, it's some ungodly hour of the morning over here so I'm off to fall into bed. I think I'll leave it a few days before watching the next episode - my poor muse needs some down time!
Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed. Thanks also so much to everyone who has reviewed and faved/alerted this fic so far. I love hearing what you guys think :) Until next time!
