Chapter Sixty-Three

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Quinn

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I will be lost and unlost, over and over again, relax love.
You were meant to be this glorious.
Epic. Story.

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There are no actual words to explain how it feels as if graduation is suddenly just upon us. Basically showing up out of nowhere, catching us all off guard and demanding some kind of action.

Well, it feels that way, at least to me.

The entire year feels as if it's gone so slowly, but it's also just flown by - disappeared in the blink of an eye. If I were ever to take the time to put into words exactly what we've been through - collectively and just individually - just this year, it would probably be pages and pages long. Chapters. It'll probably end up as its own series, for all I know. But a story to be told, nonetheless, words and words poured out onto pages and pages.

Still, given all that, I've had to put the last four years of high school into a single, condensed speech to give in front of all of our teachers, classmates and their families. We've reached the end, and, if you blink, you might just miss it. I can't quite explain the feeling that settles over me as I step up to the podium in our auditorium and look out into a sea of faces, some familiar and a lot not.

We've come so far.

I've come so far.

How to put that into words, I don't know, but I do clear my throat, stand straighter and say, "Good morning, fellow students, parents and teachers. As Principal Figgins introduced me, my name is Quinn Fabray, and I've been tasked with addressing you all on this very auspicious occasion." The words flow out of my mouth entirely too easily. I have practiced a number of times, because it really wouldn't do to embarrass myself after working so damn hard to get here.

Rachel shoots me a quick thumbs-up from her seat in the first row, and I relax even further.

"They trick you into thinking you've earned something special, but I'm guessing there are a few people who don't envy me," I continue. "Because, while the rest of you have been enjoying these last few days since the end of Finals, I've been scrambling to put together a halfway decent speech that doesn't make me sound entirely pretentious."

I use the bout of laughter to settle some more of my nerves, purely because I'm about to say words I never dreamed of saying before. I discussed it endlessly with Rachel, and decided, ultimately, that this wasn't a 'coming out' moment. It isn't even a moment about me, as much as people like to believe it is.

It is rather an 'us' moment.

No.

A bigger than 'us.'

"I remember walking into the school corridors as a freshman, feeling terrified," I say, and I try not to take in the curious looks I receive, because the Quinn Fabray of old would never have admitted something like that. "I'm sure none of you could tell, because I've perfected the art of passivity in my years, and I know a lot of you won't believe it, but I've been some level of afraid every single day of my life." I smile a little, lifting a shoulder and dropping it. "I've worked very hard to portray the perfect image. For years. And, well, today, I'm here to tell you all that we're all remarkably more alike than I could have ever admitted to before today."

It's odd for me, as I talk about how anxious high school has made me; how paralysing the idea of applying and going to college is; how overwhelming it is falling in love and doing everything you can to hold onto that relationship; how lonely it can be when friends and enemies alike turn their backs on you when you need them most; how scary it can be identifying something that makes you so different from everyone else, but so similar to many others; how liberating it can be accepting your quirks and unique mannerisms; and how perfect it is to know you're walking out of this place exactly who you're supposed to be, even if it's taken four long, troubling years to get here, because people seem to be nodding and following.

I see Azimio nudge his friend and whisper something, both of them nodding. Becky. Even a few teachers. Finn, as well, who slumps a little in his seat when I reach a particular part that has to involve him. My cheerleaders, who I've shown the most to. The New Directions, who have seen other, maybe more important, parts of me. Santana and Brittany, Kurt and Blaine. My sweet, adorable Rachel Berry. All the parents in attendance. Hiram and LeRoy somewhere in the audience, here for more than just Rachel.

All of these people, who are just now learning that Quinn Fabray is more than the facade she's spent years and years holding up to protect her true self from the dangerous, demanding world.

Well.

I'm ready, now.

The world better watch out.

My smile is unshakeable as I round off my speech by mentioning how ever struggle has been worth it, to get me to this point. "It hasn't been easy, and it's not as if the world suddenly gets easier after high school, but we managed to survive this, so I'm sure we'll be able to survive anything and everything else." I finish by thanking our school and teachers and parents and classmates, before wishing the graduating class well and asking them to go out into the world and be better. "Be better than I've been, and you've been. Be smarter and kinder and be more." My smile grows impossibly wider, and I wink into the crowd - though, it's really directed at Rachel. I raise a fist in the air. "To the Class of 2012!" I shout into the microphone.

"To the Class of 2012!" they echo right back, and yeah, it's finally over.

"Thank you," I say, and then step away.

Finally.

Just, finally.

The live band playing at the restaurant is a lot louder than I expect. It doesn't really help that our private room is right next to the little stage and we can't exactly keep the sliding door closed when servers are moving in and out with drinks and appetisers.

Still, there's very little I would change about this moment, because, dammit, we made it. I made it, to graduation, alive and as whole as I could ever dream of being. Rachel sitting beside me, laughing happily at something Blaine is telling her, with her one hand holding her glass of champagne and the other casually resting on my bare thigh under the table.

I knew I wouldn't go wrong with this cocktail dress.

Access is important.

It's after our main meals that LeRoy gets to his feet and makes a show of clinking his glass with his fork to get everyone's attention. He's already grinning, which basically spells some kind of trouble. I'm also quite certain he's just left side of tipsy, which means this is going to be interesting for all of us. Based on the way Rachel's hand tightens on my leg; I'm not the only one who thinks so.

LeRoy clears his throat. "I'm not sure how many of you know this," he starts, and I hold my breath, just waiting; "but Rachel is adopted."

There's a beat of surprised silence, and then the whole room bursts into laughter. It's the greatest sound, truly, and I want to hold onto this moment for as long as I can. For forever. Rachel's fingers slip through the spaces in mine, and it feels as if we're tethering each other to this very slice of time and space; keeping each other grounded and fully present.

LeRoy says a lot of other words, mentioning how proud he is of Rachel - and me - and how he's conflicted about his feelings towards having an empty nest come the Fall. He winks at me when he says it and adds an I'm sure they'll take good care of each other that has me blushing to the roots of my hair. He's not wrong, though, because I've already dedicated my life to making sure and keeping Rachel happy and loved. There's really no other way.

Hiram says a few words next, listing a few of our accomplishments for the year with the kind of pride in his voice that was us all emotional. He even mentions Flo, who has made such stark improvements in her classes, and I have to duck my head when he says, I knew you were the right person for the job, with all the confidence he's always had in me.

Burt stands next, stoically gushing over his sons, before Carole just waves away the opportunity to speak because she's too teary to form words. Dr Lopez, of course, has much to say, and Santana continually rolls her eyes when he's not looking. The man is obviously proud of her, and so am I. Seriously. Look at how far we've all come.

Brittany and Blaine aren't graduating with us, but I'm still so glad they're here, even if their families aren't. This is still a moment we'll look back on with significance, and I'm relieved we get to have them in the pictures Hiram eventually asks for. It's all a little over the top, but I wouldn't have it any other way. Somehow, this is the family I've been able to find, crazy and loud and embarrassing as they are.

After we've indulged in cake and dessert, we sing along to the band far too loudly, pouring onto the dance floor with little care for appearances. I can feel the music in my bones; the happiness and thrill of being this person in this moment practically swimming in my veins. Rachel is always at my side, and I feel her even when we're not touching.

But, when we are, it's as if everything has led up to this very moment.

Nothing can touch it.

Nothing can touch us.

A Santana Lopez party is different to a Noah Puckerman party, though I'll never truly be able to explain exactly why. Maybe they're just not as wild or crazy, but there's something memorable about them regardless, and this particular one is no different.

It's probably our last high school party - it's finally graduation, baby! - and I can feel the truth of it with every sip I take of some concoction Puck put together for us. It's sweet and strong and I've got a pleasant buzz going. Still, I can't help thinking, from this moment on, things are going to be different. I spoke the reality of it just this morning, and now I'm living it. It's a little terrifying knowing there's a certain ease to life we'll be leaving behind, but I'm all for experiencing whatever the future has in store for us.

It definitely helps when Rachel slides an arm around my waist, drawing me close to her side and says, "I am so proud of you," in a way that means everything.

When it is all over, this'll be the one thing I remember. When the haze of the alcohol and the cloud of relief and excitement has all faded; I will recall this feeling right here, with Rachel's eyes focused on my face, and that smile directed solely at me.

Everything else pales in comparison.

"Hey," Rachel says, sliding into bed beside me and catching my attention from the novel in my lap.

I smile at her, immediately closing my book and setting it aside. "Hey," I say right back, watching as she gets settled and comfortable. She lifts my left arm to shift in as close as possible, snuggling into my side and wrapping my arm around her. "Everything okay?" I ask, only a little worried.

"Everything is perfect," Rachel assures me, but she has a slight crease in her brow, which is particularly telling. "I just - I guess I've been thinking about... the future."

"That's dangerous," I comment lightly, and she smiles a little knowingly. "Anything in particular you've been thinking about?"

"Lots," she murmurs, burying her face in my shoulder. "But, mainly, I've been thinking about what to get you for a graduation present."

I blink. "Oh?" And here I was thinking it was something more serious. "Baby, you know that's unnecessary, right?" I tell her, because it's true. "You are all I'll ever need."

"I know," she agrees, and I'm relieved she doesn't fight me on it. "Which is what I intend to give you."

I can't help my frown, clearly not following.

Rachel shifts back slightly to bring her arms in front of her, her hands in the space between us. She uncurls her left hand to reveal a ring. A very familiar ring. My ring. "I hope you don't mind," she says, blushing. "I snuck into your jewellery box to retrieve it."

I stare at the promise ring in her palm as if I've never seen it before.

"Quinn," she breathes, forcing my eyes to her face. "I realise a lot of some... crazy things have happened this year, and a lot of it has been overwhelming." She pauses at my involuntary flinch at the sound of that word, but eventually keeps going. "We've gone through a lot of change this year," she says. "I mean, if I look at the people we were at the start of the year to the people we are right now... wow." She grins a little knowingly. "I'm gay, for starters."

I can't help my laugh. "Baby, you are so gay."

Her smile grows. "I'm also very, very happy, Quinn," she says. "I - I thought I would be content to see out my high school career with... little fanfare. I thought I would just get through these four years, as strange as they've been, and then I would be on my way to New York to start my life; to fulfil all my goals and dreams; and to put all my plans into motion. I had it all figured out, and then..." she trails off.

"And then I showed up in front of your house, teary and emotional and - "

"So beautiful," she interrupts.

"But a complete mess," I argue.

"A beautiful mess," she agrees quietly. "I did not see you coming, at all. Even now, I look at you, and I can't believe this is my life. You are my life, and you have made every plan I've ever made for myself invalid."

I blink. "I can't be sure that's actually a good thing."

"It is the best thing," Rachel tells me, adamant. "Before you, I wasn't even living, Quinn. I was just existing, waiting for the day I could finally leave this place, and who's to say what I would have been like when I got to the next phase of my life? Before you, I didn't know this kind of love could even exist. I didn't know I could be this happy... or this gay!"

"Baby," I laugh, unable to stop myself. "You're crazy."

"I am," she conforms. "About you."

I roll my eyes. "That was awful."

Rachel ignores me as she shifts again, adjusting the ring in her hand and reaching for my right one. "I love you, Lucy Quinn Fabray," she says, sounding so steady and certain that it makes the amusement fade from the conversation in a heartbeat. "I am in love with you," she adds, carefully lining the ring up with my fourth finger. "I intend to spend the rest of my once-dull life with you, facing everything it has to throw at us with you by my side. It's you and me versus the world, the two of us strong and together and forever. I know, whatever happens, that I have you, and you will always come through for me, and for us. I want to be with you, marry you, make you feel as loved as you deserve. I want to live with you and grow with you and start a family with you. All four, maybe, five, children are going to know our love. They're going to know how wonderful it is to be loved by you; to be adored and cherished the way you are with me every moment we're together. I want every single day with you; to touch and be touched by you; to kiss and hold and make love to you, for forever and ever. I want this, and I want you, and this is my promise to you and the Universe that whatever plans I thought I had all now and will always include you."

It feels as if the entire great big world has faded to nothing when she finally - finally - slides the ring onto my finger, breathes deeply and essentially seals our fates. She lifts my hand up to kiss the band she's just placed, and I can't even imagine this moment being any more perfect.

Which is why she has to ruin it.

"Now," she murmurs, lifting herself up and rolling onto me, carefully straddling my thighs. "Tell me how you made it to Chicago."

I laugh, because I can't help it. "God, you're still stuck on that."

"I want to know," she whines, rolling her hips in a way that leaves very little in question about her intent. "Please tell me."

"Nope."

"Please, Quinn."

"Not going to happen."

She places her hands on either side of my head and leans forward until her mouth is a breath away from mine. "I'm sure I could get it out of you," she whispers, a slight purr to her voice that manages to elicit a deep flush on my skin.

"Oh?" I breathe, already embarrassingly turned on.

"Uh huh."

I can't stop my grin. "Well, I'd like to see you try."

She is only marginally successful.

On the last day of school, I wake earlier than the entire household and go for a drive. I'm better at it now, sitting behind the wheel and feeling the power of the engine beneath my palms. I'm still overly careful, making sure to come to complete standstills at stop signs and checking every direction before I hit the gas again.

Rachel appreciates it, though Santana has absolutely no patience for it.

Lima is... Lima. Nothing much has really changed in all the time I've lived here. Of course, it's been only four years, but I've changed a lot in those four years. Then again, those changes aren't particularly visible to the naked eye, either, so who am I to judge?

There's something about this day, though.

I can feel it in my bones - and my muscles, tendons and ligaments.

Today is the day.

Today, the changes are going to be shining bright, for all the world to see.

"Are we really doing this?" I ask Rachel, just needing her to be absolutely sure. We've discussed it endlessly, both of us turning the implications over and over, together and apart. I like to think I'm ready, but that could all change once we're in the moment.

"Are you having second thoughts?" Rachel asks, her eyes taking in my every feature. "It's okay if you are."

"It's just a song," I say.

"We're not actually confirming anything."

"We're just singing a duet."

"Finally."

I grin. "Didn't even have to beat me at Scrabble to get it," I tease. "I told you all you had to do was ask."

Rachel rolls her eyes, stepping a little further into my space as we wait in the Choir Room for our last ever lesson of Glee to begin. Mr Schuester isn't here yet, which is totally on brand, but neither is anyone else. The corridors have gone a little crazy with excitement. We're getting out of here. We survived the entire four years - somewhat unscathed - and now we have the rest of the world to face.

"Hey," Rachel murmurs, getting my attention. "What are you thinking about?"

"I just - I guess I'm happy we get to leave this place together."

Her features soften. "Me too, Quinn," she says, reaching up and kissing my cheek. "I'm just so happy. Period."

My smile is dopey, and I don't even care. "I love you."

She has just enough time to return the sentiment before several members of the Club come through the doors, loud and boisterous and clearly enjoying life as National Champions. I almost expect them to break into song all over again. I swear We Are the Champions is still ringing in my ears even now.

This is it.

It's the last one.

High school is over, just like that. Hah.

Rachel moves away from me when Kurt calls her over, and I watch the two of them discuss something with Sam and Brittany for a moment, before my attention is stolen by a presence at my side. I already know who it is without having to look, and I just manage to hold in my sigh.

Finn says, "I finally figured it out."

I don't move.

"It took me a while, I know," he says, and there's something defeated in his tone. "It's never been about me, has it? It's about you."

My brow furrows. Wait, what?

"When we broke up, it was... selfish," he says. "I was - I hurt you in one way, so I wouldn't hurt you in another, and then I did - I just did everything wrong. You already know what I did, and I could never own up to it, so I put all the blame on you, and that wasn't fair of me. I just - " he stops and sighs. "It hurts to see you be happier without me; to see you freer and just smiling more. I don't - I don't think I've seen you smile so much, and it stings that I have nothing to do with it."

"You broke up with me, Finn."

"I know," he sighs. "And I'm just now coming to realise it's the best thing I could have ever done for you."

Well. Okay.

"Because, it is about you," he says, turning his body to face her. "You are very special, Quinn Fabray, and I am so glad that I even get to know you. I - I don't know what happens now, after we walk out those doors today, but I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry, I'll probably always love you, and you are magic."

"Finn," I breathe.

"I know," he says, smiling sheepishly as he rubs a hand at the back of his neck. "I know," he repeats.

I take a deep breath and release it slowly. "Thank you, Finn," I manage to say. "For this. I - I think I needed to hear you admit it."

He nods, solemn.

"This isn't some kind of forever goodbye," I tell him, because it's really not. "I know it feels like this monumental end, and, yeah, in some ways, it is, but, you and me, whatever happens, we're always going to have Beth."

Finn grins at her. "The best part of us, huh?"

"She's the magic."

"I think I'm ready."

Rachel looks away from where Mr Schuester is waxing poetic about the end of an era and smiles softly. "You think?"

I roll my eyes. "I'm ready," I confirm. "It's time. I - I kind of want them to know me. To know us. To know that I've managed to find myself, and you, and the kind of happiness that we can only dream of."

"And you reckon we can convey all of that with a single song?"

"With a voice like yours, baby, we could tell the world anything we wanted."

Rachel squeezes my knee for a beat, and then she's raising her hand to get Mr Schuester's attention. The man acknowledges her with a small smile, and then finishes whatever he was saying before calling on her again. Rachel jumps to her feet immediately, and moves to stand in front of their amassed Club.

"I know this'll come as a shock to you all, but I don't have all that much to say," she says with a little grin, and I'm not the only person who laughs. "Just, I wanted to thank you all, for the years in this Club. I know it's been rocky, a lot, but I probably wouldn't change anything, because what I've got out of it far exceeds anything else." Her eyes flick my way, and the meaning isn't lost on me. "As a farewell, I have finally managed to convince Quinn to sing a duet with me, so, Miss Fabray, if you'd be so kind as to join me up here, please?"

My heart stutters a little as I get to my feet, feeling a blush sneak up my neck.

"Uh, and how exactly did you manage to convince her?" Santana asks, her voice dripping with suggestion.

Rachel's smile is all innocence when she answers, "I just asked really, really nicely."

Santana lets out a snort of disbelief, but makes no further comment.

Rachel guides me into position, her hands lingering on my upper arms for just a little too long. She takes a step away from me - just a tiny one - and then says, "This is The Rest of Our Life by Tim McGraw and Faith Hill." She pauses, visibly taking a moment. "It's - it's an important song for the two of us, right now, at this point in our lives, and it's something we wanted to share with you all." She nods at herself, seemingly satisfied. "We hope you enjoy."

I smile to myself as the music starts, my heart beating steadily. We've practiced a handful of times, but this is the moment I truly feel it. The words of this song, the way I'm truly asking Rachel about the rest of her life.

So, where Tim McGraw normally comes in, I do, instead, and it is beautiful.

"Sitting with you in a dark room, warmed by a fireplace. You know there's just something about you; you brighten my day. I got something to run past you; I just hope I say it right. So, I take your hand and ask you, have you made plans for the rest of your life?"

Rachel smiles at me, so softly that it breaks my heart. Her hand is right there, so I reach for it and link our fingers, my pulse picking up.

I almost don't want to keep singing, just to hear her, but the next lines are meant to be the both of us, and I'll never deny her anything ever again. "There's one thing I should be killing off and giving up now, and that's worryin' about life. Oh, I'll be fine if one gray hair shows, I'll be fine if my waistline grows, I'll be fine, even if time takes its toll. We'll stay young for the rest of our lives."

Rachel sings next, her voice easily surpassing that of Faith Hill. "I've been making plans for children, since I've been looking in your eyes. I even have names picked out for them: daughter'd be Rose, son; it'd be Ryan."

"There's one thing I should be killing off and giving up now, and that's worrying about life," we sing together. "Oh, I'll be fine if one gray hair shows, I'll be fine if my waistline grows, I'll be fine, even if time takes its toll. We'll stay young for the rest of our lives." Her fingers squeeze mine, her eyes solely for me. "I don't really care about those storm clouds brewing. Oh, as long as you're here by my side. Oh, we'll be young, oh we'll be young. Oh, we'll be young, when we're old.

"Oh, I'll be fine if one gray hair shows, I'll be fine if my waistline grows, I'll be fine, even if time takes its toll. We'll stay young for the rest of our lives.

"With you, I'll stay young for the rest of my life. With you, we'll stay young for the rest of our life."

I barely notice when the song ends. There must be applause, but I don't register anything beyond the girl standing right in front of me, beaming a smile at me that is reflected in her bright, shining eyes. The rest of the world doesn't even exist in this moment, and it is everything and nothing all at the same time.

But.

There's just one voice.

"Wait, so you're really not in love with Blaine?" Finn asks, and then squawks when Santana throws her stress ball at him.

I can't help my laugh, and Rachel even draws me into a long hug, and then a brief kiss that is just a press of lips.

Effectively leaving nothing to the imagination.

After Glee lets out, I have a few other things to take care of, carefully making my way through the corridors in search of all the appropriate people. I have friends, who aren't friends, and I spend the next hour or so bidding farewell to the people I've worked with in my various committees, wishing the new presidents luck and signing far too many yearbooks that I'm convinced my hand is going to cramp.

Wouldn't be the first time.

Hah.

I pay a quick visit to Coach Sylvester, and I can't help revealing that I'm going to miss her, which, in all honesty, surprises us both. We even share a hug, which is even more weird, but I feel oddly settled when I finally leave her office, just sure I've closed a particular chapter in my life.

There is one specific person I know I need to find before we can finally blow this joint, and I wait until I've successfully done the rounds to make my way towards where the freshman lockers are lined. It's just a corridor filled with people, but I spot him quickly enough, and then make my way towards him, only vaguely aware of the way the crowd practically parts for me.

I'll probably miss that the most when we leave.

"Hey, Murray," I call out, and the freshman boy spins around, his eyes wide in panic, before he registers it's just me and it switches to something else. Hah. "Can I sign your yearbook?" I ask, and he looks like he's about to pass out. And I thought I was pale.

He glances nervously at his friends and takes in their stunned expressions. They all look a little shellshocked, really, and it's deathly amusing. "Uh, sure, Quinn," he says slowly, and I immediately grab for his yearbook. I page through until I find the spread on the Valentine's Day initiatives we ran earlier this year, where there's a picture of a group of us stringing up hearts. Murray and I are both present.

"Is this spot okay?" I ask, pointing at the page, and Murray's eyes bug out of his head. The friend next to him looks like he's just seen a ghost. Seriously. I'm desperately trying not to burst out laughing. This has been an amazingly wonderful day.

"It's perfect," Murray forces out.

I shoot him a smile before I'm writing on the page with my Sharpie. The message is a little long - probably the longest I've written for anyone not from Glee or the Squad - but he doesn't seem to mind. When I hand it back, I drop the volume of my voice. "Listen to me," I say, and he gives me his full attention, his friends almost knowing to back away at this point. "It's always going to be difficult. There will always be people who won't understand, but believe me when I tell you that living for myself is the greatest decision I've ever made. I'm going to sing it from the rooftops."

He blinks. "It'd be a beautiful sound," he says.

I shake my head. "Come now, don't go soft on me."

His smile spreads. "I'm sorry. I'm just a little overwhelmed."

I resist the urge to cringe. I really hate that word. "It's been known to happen," I mutter. Then: "I put my number in there, if you ever need anything." His eyes widen. "But, I swear to God, Murray, if I get any prank calls from you or your little friends, I will murder you in your sleep."

He nods vigorously. "Got it."

"Take care of yourself, okay?" I say; "and just be you."

"I don't know how to be anybody else."

"I hope you never lose that," I say, putting a hand on his shoulder. "This school, life, in general, can be cruel."

"I know," he says, and it sounds as if he truly does know. I won't ask because I don't really want him to tell me. I've done what I can to run this school and, now that I'm leaving, I won't have any more control.

Well, Brittany will, and she's going to be the best successor for Head Cheerleader I could ever ask for. I suppose that's one of the only silver linings to come out of her not graduating with us. She'll look after all the rainbow unicorns in this school.

"Quinn," he says, and I snap to attention. "Thank you, you know?"

"For what?"

He glances over his shoulder for a moment, reaches for the arm of another boy, and then brings him closer, huddling so the three of us can have a private conversation. "Uh, Quinn, this is Tyler," he says, his hand resting on the boy's forearm. "He's, um, the boy we talked about, but didn't really."

I nod in understanding, smiling widely. "So, you thought about it, then?"

"Endlessly."

I turn to Tyler, taking in his strong features and almost bronze hair. He looks distinctly older than a freshman, but I don't say anything about that. "It's nice to meet you, Tyler," I say politely. "Take care of my Murray, will you?"

"I will," he says, blushing.

I kiss both of their cheeks, and they grow even redder. It's cute. We're in public and I'm putting on a show. Seriously, these miscreants haven't seen anything yet.

"I hear you're going to Yale," Tyler says, somewhat bravely.

I smile at him. "And where did you hear that?"

He sputters.

I laugh lightly. "I am going to Yale, yes," I say, placing a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to ease the obvious tension in his body. I don't get it. I'm just a person. "I'm finally getting out of this place."

"What are you going to study?"

I can't help my grin. "English," I say. "I intend to be a writer."

"We'll be on the lookout for your books," Murray says, his smile so bright. I shake my head, amused. "It might be a while, yet."

"Changes nothing," Murray says. "I can't wait to tell people I once knew you when you're famous and successful."

I cock my head to the side. "I don't know," I say; "Between you and me, I think Rachel Berry's going to end up the famous and successful one, and I'm just going to be riding on her coattails."

Murray looks as if he wants to argue some more, but there must be something in my eyes he sees that makes him stop. "Oh," he whispers, and I realise he gets it. Of course, he does, because I intended him to.

"Remember what I told you," I say.

"Won't ever forget."

"Good man," I say. "Tyler, it was nice to meet you. Both of you, take care and enjoy your summer."

They echo my sentiments, and then I'm on my way, my final destination already in mind. School is out, and I'm as free as I'll ever be. There's really only one person I want to see right now, and forever.

Rachel is exactly where I know she'll be, standing perfectly straight in front of her open locker. The corridors are slowly emptying of students as they finish clearing out their own lockers, but Rachel has a bit of a mammoth task ahead of her.

"Hey, little star," I say, and Rachel spins to look at me, abandoning the painstaking work of dismantling my Valentine's Day masterpiece that is her pimped-out locker.

She beams at me. "Hello, you," she says brightly.

"Are you almost done?" I ask, my fingers twitching in anticipation of what I have planned.

"Almost is a generous word," she informs me. "Are you here to help?"

"I could," I purr; "but I'd much rather watch you, if that's all right."

She blushes, and it amazes me that she can still blush when I've literally watched her come... at my hand... and my mouth. "Your girlfriend status is currently questionable," she says.

"You love me," I say.

"I do," she says, practically breathless. "I really, really do."

We stare at each other for the longest moment, and I'm so unafraid of people reading it the wrong way, because this is the girl I love and I want everyone to know.

Everyone.

She looks away first. "Quinn, are you okay?"

"I'm perfect."

Her brow furrows. "You're acting weird."

"I am?"

"Little bit."

"Hmm."

She shakes her head, gives me one last look, and then proceeds to finish up packing up her locker into a cloth bag. Mine is already done and my box is in the car. From here, I'm going to walk out of this Godforsaken place with my girlfriend and I'm never going to look back. It's really as simple as that.

The problem is Rachel takes forever.

And I'm impatient.

What's worse is that Rachel recognises it, and I'm convinced she's taking her sweet, sweet time on purpose. It's okay. I'm stubborn. I can handle the wait.

Well, I try, at least, but I have to give in to my near-desperate urge to help her. She tries to deflect my hands when I just start reaching for things, and we end up in a tangle of limbs, both of us giggling like the silly high school graduates we are.

We're finally done with this place.

"Done," Rachel eventually declares, what feels like a hundred years later. She closes her locker gently, and then spins around to face me, cloth bag settled at her feet. "This is it, isn't it?"

I nod, but I can't bring myself to say anything yet. I have a plan, you see, and this is the moment I set it into motion.

She must recognise something in my features, because her own brow creases. "Quinn?"

"I need to talk to you about something."

She visibly stiffens at the sound of those words, but it's a necessary evil at this point, and I honestly can't resist.

"We decided, right?" I question. "This is it? We're done with this place, and we're going to step out into the world together and face it all as it comes?"

"That was always the plan," she assures me, looking a little unsure as to which direction I'm taking this. "Are you having second thoughts?"

"Never," I tell her, and then step right into her personal space. "I told you," I say; "I was going to do this one day."

Her brow furrows. "Do what?"

"I was always going to kiss you in this corridor."

And, it happens exactly the way I imagined it would... the fantasy coming to life right in front of me. I'm here, right in front of her, teasing her and making her laugh as we stand at her locker.

She's giving me a look, almost daring me.

I return that look, accepting, because how could I ever deny her?

My hand slides over the skin of her cheek until it comes to rest at the back of her neck.

We breathe in each other.

I lean in, uncaring and decidedly happy.

We kiss.

Right here.

For everyone to see.

They all know Rachel Berry is mine, and I'm hers.

For forever.

It happens exactly like that, and it is everything.

Her smile is blinding when we break apart, and I'm sure mine matches. I have eyes for only her, though I'm vaguely aware of how quiet the corridor has suddenly gone.

"I was sure it would never happen," Rachel breathes, a bit of awe in her voice.

"I told you to wait," I remind her. "I love you."

She reaches up to kiss the corner of my mouth. "I love you, too," she says, as easily as breathing.

I slip my hand into hers. "So... ready to get out of here?"

"So ready."

And, as Rachel Berry and I walk out of McKinley for - hopefully - the last time, we're trailed by one common sentiment. It's whispered through the corridors, murmured in the halls and shouted from the rooftops.

Did you hear?

Did you see that?

Oh, my God.

But one thing remains, and I take hold of Rachel's hand as we exit the doors, intertwining our fingers.

She glances at me, suddenly shy. "Quinn?"

"Rachel."

"I love you."

"I love you too," I say, offering her the small smile I've always only smiled at her. "Do you hear that?"

"What?"

I grin, my entire body vibrating with life and love and endless possibilities. "They're all so surprised."

She giggles softly. "It does seem like a shock to them," she says.

"It was a shock to you, too," I point out.

She flushes instantly, and we take our first steps into the real world together. There was never going to be another way. "It's a bit of a relief, really," she eventually says. "I mean, I feel as if I'm the only one who was blindsided by it all in the beginning. You were... fine, for the most part. My dads too. San and Britt. Even Blaine and Kurt, really. So, this is kind of nice."

"What?"

She tugs on my hand, bringing me closer, and kisses my cheek. A happy smile blooms across her perfect, beautiful face, and my breath catches. "I suppose it's just reassuring to know I'm not the only one who didn't see it coming."

Fin

AN: That's it. It's finally finished. Thank you, everybody, for giving this story a chance. I hope you enjoyed it. I have a sequel coming together slowly in my mind, but it may be a while before it ever sees the light of day. Like, a long while. Like, maybe even forever.

But, thank you all for reading, commenting and liking this story. I know it's been a long one, and I just wanted to say I definitely appreciate it. Please take care.