Alter The Ending (Dashboard Confessional)

JUNE

QUINN'S POV

...ONE CAFFEINE-FUELED WEEK INTO SUMMER...

I woke up to a dark living room with soaked panties after having the wildest sex dream about Santana.

It'd been months since I'd been on top of her, and it was starting to manifest in my dreams.

My neck ached as I sat up on the couch and tried to focus my eyes in the dark room. The street lights streamed through the blinds, allowing me to see across the room to the clock.

It was just past ten, and the apparent reason that I was awakened became clearer.

There was a loud knock on the door and then sniffling.

"Quinn?" The voice called out to me, knocking me from my stupor.

"Yea..." I called out, my voice hoarse from the amount of yelling I'd been doing over the last few days.

That Ferris Wheel had dredged up a lot of gunk that I had been suppressing, and Maribel, not too surprisingly, had suggested Primal Therapy, which is usually used in childhood trauma but recently has been used in PTSD sufferers.

It's been helping me unleash a lot of the pain that I've been holding in for so many years.

Which is something I've desperately needed.

The knocking continued right up until I pulled the door open.

I'd expected any number of people, but none of them was my old roommate, Vanessa.

"V?" I said, still feeling disoriented.

"Did I wake you?" She asked in a small voice as she looked me over.

"Yea but it's fine, I didn't even know I was sleeping."

"Oh...can I come in?" She said, her voice remaining small. I reached next to the door and flipped on the light switch before stepping back and opening the door wider.

Vanessa looked around my living room and then plopped down into the recliner...otherwise known as the very seat I had just vacated.

"Can I get you anything? Water? Wine?"

She looked skittish but then said confidently.

"Wine."

"You got it, kid!"

Without Beth around, I've been completely thrown into my work and summer classes. I've spent approximately zero hours doing anything for myself, so it felt pretty good to have a friend here.

I didn't want to think that she was here only because she wanted something from me, even though logically, she hadn't really spoken to me since I graduated a year ago...so there was no way that this was a social call, but I wasn't going to interrogate her.

Not yet, anyway.

I handed her a glass of wine and then proceeded to clean the piles of paperwork and books off the couch so that I could sit and shoot the shit with her.

Because I wanted there, for once in my fucking life, to be someone who sought me out just to hang out without sex or drama being involved.

If only.

Once I was finally sitting, my wine glass dangling in my fingers as I crossed my legs and waited for whatever it was she needed to tell me, she finally seemed ready to open up.

"I graduated."

"Yes! How did you do?"

"Magna Cum Laude." She said a look of pride on her face. "I got into John Hopkins'." She said, the smile dropping from her face for a moment before she smiled again.

"That's your dream school, V, why aren't you more excited?"

"I'm pregnant." She said before tipping up her glass and guzzling down what was left of her wine.

"Wait..." I said, doom creeping into all of the cracked parts of my soul. "Why are you drinking? Are you getting rid of it? I thought you were waiting for marriage? Does Scotti know?"

It was like word vomit, the way that I hit her with question after question.

She put her hands against her flat stomach and then looked at me, tears sliding past the perfect, red-lipped smile she still had posted on her face.

"I can't keep it, Quinn. It was a stupid drunken mistake and even if I WAS speaking to that lying, cheating, dog." She growled, her face turning into an ugly mask of itself for a split second before turning back to the crying smile a moment later. "It wouldn't matter because this baby isn't his anyway."

"Whoa wait...you guys got engaged a month ago didn't you, I remember because about six of the girls called me screaming in ungodly pitches about it."

"Yea well, that's gone to shit. Engagement is off and after I get the procedure, I'm swearing off sex for life!"

"No you're not."

"I am, it's bad enough I lost my virginity in some frat house but now I'm stuck with having to spend my hard earned money to dispose of it."

Her disdain for her unborn child floored me.

For me, abortion was NEVER an option, and I'm not sure what she THOUGHT I'd say to her, but it wasn't going to be anything she wanted to hear, that's for sure.

"The father isn't going to help you?"

"You tell me...do YOU think that Biff is going to help?"

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath...and then another...and another before opening them again, trying my best not to slap her.

"You slept with Biff?"

"Yes."

"And Scotti knows?"

"He practically forced my hand. He cheated and so I retaliated...then we reconciled and got back together. We got engaged...then I found him getting a fucking blow job at our engagement party last week."

"One that I wasn't invited to, obviously."

"There were no kids and since you have one...whatever, It doesn't matter anyway, Quinn...you've got a life, and I was leaving you to it."

"So if you've made your mind up, why are you here?" I snarled because fuck her for not even inviting me.

"I don't know...to appease my guilt, maybe? I was raised a Jehovah's Witness...I was raised with Bible thumping and while I've already made up my mind...I guess a part of me needed your approval."

I couldn't believe her.

How could she even ask me that?

There was no way she could even think I'd approve.

"I'm not comfortable telling you that getting an abortion is okay with me. It's your body, it's your choice but don't ask me to go along with it because, I can't do that, Vanessa."

"Okay...that's okay...I get it...I think...I needed to hear that." She said as she stared blankly at her empty wine glass. "I think I needed to hear that I have a choice in all of this...please don't hate me if I decide to do it, Q."

"I won't hate you...I...it will be hard to look at you for a bit, but I'll never hate you, V. You're the little sister I never had...we're family. I've got your back no matter what."

"Oh God." She dropped her head into her hands and began sobbing. "Thank you." She whined.

It seemed that for once...I had said the right thing.

SANTANA'S POV

...TRY TO MAKE ME GO TO REHAB...

I felt sadness pooling in my soul as I thought of the haunting look that Quinn had fought to hide on Beth's birthday.

She'd been through so much more than just a divorce...she was so strong, and anyone who was with her needed to be equally strong.

And I wanted to be THAT person, and so after one week at home, one week spent commiserating over all the shit I had lost since graduation day, each day blending into the next until once again, I was craving a fix.

But Lima is not New York or Philly. Cocaine isn't as easy to come by or as easy to find in this stupid town.

And so, instead, I decided to go to the hospital...

Hoping to steal my father's prescription pad only...something else got my attention before I could.

"Brittany?"

I was in my own world, stalking Quinn on IG, as I made my way to my father's office but then I stumbled into a lump of rags in a wheelchair outside his doorway.

My ex-wife sat there crumpled up in her chair, sobbing, which could only mean one thing.

Ding Dong, the witch, finally died.

She looked up at me with the saddest eyes that I had ever seen in my life, and I felt nothing.

"She's...I'm an orphan..." She said to me, with more tears and more sobbing interspersed between breaths.

"You still have Pierce."

"He's not my father."

"Okay, sure. He only raised you but whatever. Why are you sitting here, B?" I asked, without even a trace of empathy.

"I needed comfort."

"Again, you have Pierce."

She looked at me in shock, her mouth was open as if she was trying her best to say something, but no words came.

"Don't be mean. Besides, your dad isn't here, anyway."

"Luckily, I have the key."

I said, turning my back on her and unlocking my way into my father's office.

I made it all the way to the pharmacy and back to my mother's house without a single roadblock.

Like providence was shining on me.

Everything was lining up for me to be completely numb.

Even if I had gone two months without any controlled substances other than alcohol and marijuana, now I was about to enter the deep abyss that was prescription pills.

And something about that gave me pause.

Which gave fate enough time to catch up with me.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and while the number was unknown, I answered it.

Because a part of me really didn't want to be a junkie...this was not how I would get Quinn back.

I needed divine intervention, and it seemed that God was on my side because when I heard that little voice...those pills in my palm ceased to exist.

"Santana?" The voice said, and I had to check my phone just to make sure it wasn't all in my head and that I was, in fact, on the phone.

"Beth?"

"Yes! Hi. I got your number from Mama's phone before she went home. Are you busy?"

I looked down at the bottle of pills and hesitated for only a moment before putting them down on my desk and turning away from them.

"No kiddo, I'm not busy. What's up?"

"I'm mad at you."

"Is that right?" I said, slumping down onto my window seat and looking out onto Sooner Street...where Quinn had lived almost all of her high school life.

And now her kid was about to lecture me.

It's crazy how life goes.

"You promised to take care of her. When we were on the beach. You promised me. Remember?"

My hands were shaking as I glanced back at that orange pill bottle.

What a disappointment I had become.

"I do, kiddo. I'm sorry for that."

"Do you love her still?"

"Of course I do. So, so much."

"Then fix what you did."

"What I did?"

"Yes, she won't say what it is, but I know she's mad at you. You made her sad. She cried a lot, I wasn't supposed to hear but I did."

"You heard her crying?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry, Beth."

"Just fix it. She loves you. Promise me you will make it right?"

"Bunny, who are you talking to?" I heard her uncle ask.

"Promise me?" She whispered.

"I promise, Beth."

"Good." and then the phone cut out.

I spent the next three hours looking up short-term rehab centers before popping up at Papi's house, where he and Mami were having one of their dinners, despite him having a new girlfriend and despite me being in town to have dinner WITH them.

They both looked surprised to see me and Papi had a certain look in his eye...like he knew about the prescription pad.

And I wouldn't doubt it...he knows every medical professional from here to Cincinnati.

The odds of someone calling him were very high.

But before they could say anything...I walked to the table without a word and put the papers down in front of them.

"I need help that you can't give me." I said.

Mami looked at me in disbelief. It was like her perfect therapist facade wasn't functional due to my sneak attack because she looked at me with so much hurt in her eyes.

A look that was a close second to Quinn's face just before she threatened my life.

Both looks cut me deep, and I deserved them.

Papi, though, the usual worry wart, was all business and playing the sympathetic father.

"Are you sure about this, Tata? Rehab?"

"Yes."

"Then, I'm proud of you for coming to the decision on your own."

Mami seemed to get her shit together pretty quickly after she saw Papi out-parenting her.

Sore loser.

I nearly rolled my eyes at her, but this was too serious of a situation.

"I hope you make it through." Mami huffed.

"Gee, thanks, Mami. Your support is unmatched."

"What she means to say is that she hopes that this helps you, right Mari?"

Mami snatched the papers from him and began to look at them, her face a mask of uncertainty.

But I looked at Papi and tried my best to ignore Mami's doubts about my ability to actually make it through rehab.

"Will you take me, I could use you both there." I glanced back at Mami, and she looked at me, her calm therapist facade in place.

"What was your tipping point?" She asked.

I took a deep breath, pulled the bottle of pills and the prescription pad out of my pocket, and put them down in front of my father.

There was no shock on either of their faces...which meant that they both knew already.

I was ashamed but there was no way that I was going to stop my forward momentum.

"I am tired of running. I ran from Brittany, from Louisville, from Lima, Broadway, Quinn, I even tried to leave Drexel...you two are both finishers but you raised a daughter that's always ready to run when the going gets tough. I'm not the fighter that I think I am, but I want to be."

"And you think 28 days is going to fix years of lies and cowardice?" Mami spat, and Papi slapped his hand down on the table, jarring her out of her attack.

She looked at him with a glare of steel, but he didn't back down.

"She is all we have, Mari. Stop punishing her for not being Anthony. Our daughter, our baby is hurting, and we need to support her. You need to give Santana the same love and encouragement that you would give to any of your patients, especially Quinn."

"Antonio, I...it's not like I don't love her."

"Well maybe what you've been giving her is not enough."

"Excuse me?"

"What more do you want from her, Maribel?"

Mami had tears in her eyes...the first I had ever seen from her that didn't involve my ghost of a brother.

She stood from her chair and came over to me, her head just barely making it past my shoulder, but her presence was bigger than life.

Her hand rested on my cheek, cool and reassuring, smelling of cinnamon and Chanel No. 5.

"Mamita, I believe in you. I always have and I know that it's hard to admit you have a problem. I am sorry if anything I've said has made you feel neglected or unsupported. I've let my own pride cloud my judgment. If you do this, just promise me that you'll give it every piece of you...don't be stubborn like me or my mother. Entiendes?"

"I will, Mami. I need the help. I want to be better...I want to be strong...like you."

"Oh, Nanita," she said, dropping her cold façade for once, "you already are."

JULY

QUINN'S POV

...ONE MONTH AFTER VANESSA DROPS THE BIFF BABY BOMB...

I came home after an exhausting day, and there she was, in my coveted recliner, eating chocolate with her feet on my coffee table and watching trashy television.

Oh, how I missed my alone time.

Back when I was with Santana, we had begun to make plans for our first summer together, great, AMAZING, and sexy plans none of which included Vanessa squatting in my apartment indefinitely.

I opened my mouth to say something when my phone rang.

Yelling at Vanessa would have to wait.

When Vince and Lydia call...I never let it go to voicemail.

"Yeah?" I sighed, storming through the living room and into my bedroom, swinging my door closed a little too loud to show my frustration. I know that it was passive-aggressive, but fuck it.

She was still pregnant at my urging...the least I could do was not make her go into one of those hormonal swan dives that involved lots of tears and blubbering.

"Well hello to you too, sunshine."

"Don't be patronizing. I'm not in the mood for it today." I sighed.

"I can see that. I'm guessing you still have a house guest?" Vince asked, sounding unruffled by my frustration.

"What gave it away, the door slamming or the sighing?"

"I'll take all of the above and throw in that happy greeting when you answered."

"She's taking over my apartment...I don't know how anyone dealt with me through my pregnancy."

"Oh, Lydia didn't share that tidbit...you picked up a baby mama, trying to be like me?"

"Is there something you wanted? Does Beth need something? I just sent her package two days ago...tell her the Tastykake's are on the way."

"It is about Beth but not necessarily something she needs...more of, the activities she's been up to."

"Like what?"

"I've caught her on the phone more than once...thank God for caller id...she's been calling a New York cell number, I thought at first that she was calling Rachel but after talking to her, apparently the number belongs to Santana."

"Oh..." I said, suddenly way more interested in Vince's call. "How many times?"

"Six or seven. The first time, she was clearly talking to her but the last few times, it seems she's just talking to her voicemail because she is always asking to be called back. Did you know about this?"

"This is the first I'm hearing about it."

"Is she going to be okay talking to her? Should I tell her not to?"

"What you really mean to ask is if Santana will talk to her while she's high...honestly, I don't think so. I think she won't answer the call if she's not in a place where she can talk to Beth. I don't want to tell Beth that she can't talk to Santana because she looks up to her and I don't want to wreck that."

"Well, for Beth's sake, I hope you're right."

"Is she around? Can I talk to her?"

"Are you going to find out what they're talking about or tell her to stop calling?"

"Let me talk to her and then we can go from there."

"Hi Mama!" Beth shouted into the phone, nearly deafening me.

"Hey Sweets. How's vacation?"

"Boring. Alex went to summer camp!" She grumbled.

"Well that sucks, but at least you have your new cousin, right?"

"Yes! Vinny is the cutest, Mama."

"I know, those dimples stole my heart right out of my chest!"

"That's not true!"

"Okay, okay, hyperbole. You remember that word, right?"

"Yes, exaggerating. Which is what you meant, right?"

"Exactly...so can I ask you something, Sweets?"

"Okay?"

"Did you take Santana's number from my phone?"

She got quiet, and I knew right away that she had.

"I'm sorry." She whispered.

"Why didn't you just ask me for it?"

"Because you're mad at her and I didn't want you to be mad at me too."

"Oh Sweets, I know how much she means to you. I wouldn't be mad that you wanted to talk to her."

"No?"

"Nope, in fact, I'm curious about why you needed to talk to her, so bad that you would take her number without permission and be secretive about it."

"Honest?"

"Yes, Sweets."

"I want her to marry you, so we can be a real family and so we can get a baby."

"Oh...um...is that what this is about? You want a baby brother or sister?"

"Yes."

"And you think that can only happen if I get married to Santana?"

"Yes."

"Oh, Sweets...did you tell Santana this?"

"No. I told her to fix whatever made you mad."

"You did?" I chuckled because, my God, this kid is amazing.

"Yes and she promised she would but now she won't answer my calls."

"Maybe she's too busy trying to fix things and doesn't want to talk until she does."

"OH! That makes sense."

"So how about, you enjoy your summer break, enjoy Vinny and when you come home we can talk more about this whole baby thing, how's that sound?"

"Do you mean it?" Up until this point...I hadn't even thought about any more children but shit, maybe...I have one year of grad school left, so why not?

"I do, so let Santana be the one to call you and just be a kid, let me worry about the big stuff. Okay?"

"Okay, Mama."

SANTANA'S POV

...5 DAYS OUT OF REHAB...

"Play that back for me."

I sat in the dark studio with Sam, trying my best to get the verse right.

But it wasn't working.

At least not the way that I wanted it to be.

We listened to the playback, and Sam looked really into it, but I wasn't feeling it. Nothing about it had the sound that I was going for.

"No...stop the playback." I yelled and waited for the music to fade before turning on my stool towards Sam. "I know what you're going to say but it was shit."

"You've been working on this since you got home, my callouses have callouses, San. It's perfect."

"No. I need to mix it myself. We've got your guitar recording so if you're in that much pain, you can go."

He shook his head. "I'll use a pic if it gets too bad but maybe it's time for you to get another opinion. I've always loved your voice, so I think I'm biased. You need someone that's going to tell you like you need to hear it."

"Like who?"

"Mercedes."

"Yeah?"

"Definitely, she owes you one...you helped her when she needed it." He pulled out his phone and held it out to me. "Call her."

"I don't know, Sam."

"What are you afraid of?"

"That she's going to think it's shit too. In fact, I'm SURE she's going to think it's shit."

"Only one way to find out."

"Can you play the chorus one more time?" Mercedes said over the speaker. I closed my eyes as I listened to the chorus again, for the trillionth time. Once it was over, she got silent.

Sam looked at the phone that was resting on the music stand nervously and looked back at me with a reassuring smile, but with the look of uncertainty he suddenly had, he might be hearing what I'd been hearing all this time.

"Okay...say something, Cedes...she looks like she's going to piss herself."

I couldn't help but smile when her infectious laugh came over the speaker loud and clear.

Even if I was a nervous wreck about this song coming out perfectly, the sound of her laughter seemed to relax me a bit.

"Okay, Sam, I get what you meant the sound is good. The music is good...Santana's voice is the problem." She said slowly.

"What?!" I snapped at her. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Wheezy?"

"Okay, stop, your voice is beautiful as always...stop defaulting to the negative, what I mean is that there is no emotion in your voice. You have a voice built for soul, for R & B...heck, for country even but rock isn't your thing. Maybe if you slowed down the chorus and upped the bass, sang it like it's the last song you'll ever sing."

"Umm...okay?" I said, not quite sure how to do that.

"Oh, I got it. Remember that Adele performance we did the day Finn outed you?"

"Yes." I rolled my eyes.

"And remember how you were when Amy Winehouse died?"

"God, yes...I was a wreck."

"This song is about having a facade and being so overcome by emotion that you can't hold it up anymore. It could have been written BY YOU...that's what you need to put in this song, Santana."

I closed my eyes and pictured the way that I needed to sing it...she was right.

"She's got her eyes closed, 'Cedes and is smiling like a lunatic."

"Then she's in the zone...Santana, record it...then call me back. I've got to meet my agent. Good luck and Sam...I'll call you tonight."

I shot him a look, and he began to blush.

It made my heart happy to see them picking up their relationship again, they were my favorite of the Glee couples. They reminded me of the ease my parents have with each other.

I aspire to have that magnetism with someone again.

Preferably her.

My stomach sank as I thought of her expression from that night.

It's always replaying in my mind...I had lost my mind that night, and she had every right to throw me out.

What was worse is that even if she didn't know what was going on, Beth saw me like that, and I don't think I'll ever forgive myself for letting that happen.

I picked up my headphones and looked towards the sound booth.

"Slow down the tempo...beef up the bass. Run it back?"

I looked over at Sam, who was slipping his phone back into his pocket.

"Play the end of the intro, let's lay down the chorus first, okay?"

"Got it."

He played back the slower beat and the louder bass, and then Sam began to play.

I closed my eyes and put on my headphones, thinking about that look on Quinn's face...

And then the feel of her against me on that Ferris Wheel, I got a chill and sang from my heart.

My voice broke in some places, but I didn't stop until I had sung the chorus twice.

I let out a breath at the end of it, ready to stop, but just as I took off the headphones...Sam shook his head and continued to play.

"You're in the zone...keep going."

And I did.

I sat cross-legged on her bed, watching her sit in that chair, looking as pale and sickly as Whitney before her death.

Our divorce had finally been finalized without any major blips...she had lost all of her fights once her mother wasn't backing her.

And because I am a softy in all things Brittany, I asked Papi to help me sign off for 10 grand from my trust to go to her.

Only, I hadn't told her yet...that was why I was here but seeing her like this had me feeling like I needed to do more.

She has absolutely been the devil incarnate, but at the end of the day...she has been my best friend my entire life.

We shared so many firsts and so I felt I owed her something more than money.

"Britt...look at me, please?"

"Why? So you can tell me that this is all karma?" She said, turning her cold expression towards me, bitterness seeping deep into her tone.

"No, I don't believe that. I think shit happens. I think she was going to die regardless of the fucked up shit that you did. I just needed you to look at me when I told you that you are still one of the most important people in my life."

She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"I don't want your pity. It won't bring her back."

"I know, B."

"I'm not who I was before I was in this stupid chair." She said through gritted teeth as she looked at the chair as if it had betrayed her in some way.

"In more ways than one. I know."

"Quinn won't ever forgive me, and she doesn't have to, but I'll never go near her or hurt her like I did. I deserve this chair...I deserve this punishment...I just wish I was smart enough to kill myself right."

"Don't say that, B."

"Why not?! I'm sure you've thought about it. I turned you into a drug addict."

"No...I did that on my own."

"I drove you to it."

"I don't blame you for my decisions, B. The only thing I blame you for aside from that stuff...is not having the balls to fight harder to walk again."

"You don't think I'm trying?"

"No. Sorry, B. I don't. If you wanted to walk, they've told you...if you work at it and get that surgery then in five years...maybe sooner, that you'll be able to walk."

"I can't afford that...and it's mean for you to throw it in my face."

"Well, now you can." I said, handing her the envelope with the check. "We may never be friends like we were, Britt, but I love you enough to tell you that I believe in you. I know you can walk again...I know you will find love again, and I know that you will find some way to forgive yourself for everything you've done."

"Have you?"

"Have I what?"

"Forgiven me for all the bad things I've done?"

"Not quite, but I am damn sure trying to."

"Do you really think I can walk again?"

"It doesn't matter what I think, Britt. It matters that you believe you can do it. Just know that even though I'm going to be away at school...I'm still here for you."

AUGUST

QUINN'S POV

...ONE MONTH AFTER BETH DECIDED THE FAMILY NEEDED EXPANDING...

I was sitting outside on my stoop between Vanessa's knees as she braided the sides of my hair.

Her growing stomach sat behind my head...present...and safe.

"I'm glad you decided to keep the baby." I whispered to her as she hummed to herself.

"Yeah...I guess."

"What's wrong?"

"I just don't see how giving up the kid for adoption will be easier than getting an abortion. I mean...how will I survive knowing there is a kid out there with my DNA and I'm selfishly living my own life."

"Ow!" I groaned when her impassioned statement involved yanking my hair.

"Shit...sorry. It's just terrifying. I'm going to get to school, and everyone is going to look at me like I'm nuts. Thankfully, the due date is during winter break, or I'd miss a whole month of school."

"Tell them you're a surrogate."

"Yea, right, tell potential nurses I'm going to be a surrogate...they aren't disinterested Math majors...they are medical geeks. They will want to know all the details, and you know that I'm a fucking terrible liar."

"Don't I know it...you would have never gotten through rush week if I wasn't your Big sister."

"See, that's exactly what I mean...there is no way that lie will last more than a week."

"Then tell them you're having the baby for me...that you're my surrogate."

"That's still a lie, Q."

"Not if I plan to adopt the baby."

"Wait...what?"

"Ow! Shit...okay...stop." I said, throwing my hands up.

She let go of my hair and dropped her hands onto her thighs with a loud slap.

"Are you serious, Q? You want to adopt my baby? Wait...you realize it's going to be a half-black kid, right? It's not going to be pasty white...are you sure you want to take that on?"

"I'd be honored."

"What about Beth? She won't be jealous?"

"It was practically her idea...she just doesn't know it yet."

For two months, Vanessa had been moping around the apartment, lamenting over being pregnant, even though she was barely showing, but once I voiced what I had been thinking since I talked to Beth, she was up every morning, nagging me into going for a walk.

"You want a healthy baby, don't you?"

And how can I argue with that?

But the walks always yielded talks that we otherwise seemed to avoid.

And even after a month, her doubts were still very much lingering.

"Are you sure you want this baby, Q?"

"If you're willing to give it to me, then yes."

"Can I...will I be allowed to visit?"

"Of course, V...the kid is going to know you."

"I'm just so afraid to get attached, you know?"

"I do and honestly, there is no getting around that. You are sharing your body with another human being. No matter what, you are going to feel attached."

"You're right."

"I know."

"So, have you told Beth yet?"

"I haven't, but I will once she gets home next week."

"I'm excited to meet her. She sounds amazing."

"She is."

"I think you have a bias...I'll see for myself." She said, scrunching up her face and sticking her tongue out at me before bursting into laughter.

"Important question...will you tell Biff about the baby?"

"He knows, wrote me the check for the abortion...gave me way more than I needed."

"How much?"

"A grand...so now your baby will have the beginning of a college fund."

"Nice! Biff would be pissed."

"Like I give a shit. Fuck him."

"We both did...remember?"

"Ugh...gross." She said, looking like she'd sucked on a lemon.

"Did you tell your parents?"

"God, Q, no...but when I do, you will sure be there. They do NOT need to know that I got pregnant on my own. We can keep up the whole surrogate thing forever."

"What happened to not being able to lie?"

"Girl, to strangers...but to my overly religious parents, I learned to lie by the time I could walk. It became very necessary."

"Don't I know it."

I started to look forward to our daily walks even though I usually sweat through my clothes and feel gross after, but not once did I complain.

It was one walk in particular...one that we did through campus because I needed to pick up some paperwork, where I saw the one person that I had managed to put out of my mind...(or so I thought)...

She was walking out onto Market Street, excitedly talking into her cell phone...looking even happier than when I had last seen her in June.

And I stopped walking, throwing an arm out to Vanessa to make her stop too.

"What?"

I nodded my head towards the woman standing just ahead of us.

"Is that Santana?"

"It is."

"Well...are you going to talk to her?"

"What? Why?" I whispered as if Santana could hear us from 20 feet away. She was making her way to a food truck, the phone still to her ear as she rocked an epic pair of heels.

How she does it, I'll never know but my eyes are very much appreciative of her legs in that skirt.

"Because you are looking at her like a piece of meat...my God, Quinn, how did I never know you were this gay?"

"Fuck you."

"Um...no thanks...but she will." Vanessa said with a sly grin.

"Don't you dare, V..." I began to say but Vanessa very much didn't care.

"SANTANA?!"