Rachel fiddles with the straw, twisting the plastic between her fingers. She's reluctant to take a sip of the soda in front of her, unsure as to why it is there to begin with. Normally, she abhors the taste of soda, the strength of the carbohydrates burning against her throat. Still, the drink is here in front of her, the presence taunting. She continues to press against the plastic, biting it within her fingers.

"I didn't think that you were the type to drink soda," says Jesse, sliding into the booth across from her, surprising her with his presence. He wrinkles his nose at the beverage, and Rachel suddenly feels the urge to discard the beverage into the nearest bin. Instead, she pushes it away guiltily, resolving to stick with the water on the other side.

"I'm not, I just felt like a change. That's not a crime, is it?"

There is an air of defensiveness in her tone, and Rachel rationalizes herself to calm down, to not pick a scene. It's just a beverage, she reassures herself. Beverages are not a reflection of the type of person she is, and perhaps he hadn't meant anything by the comment. Jesse stares at her, and she finds herself staring back; her body warmed by his eyes on her.

"That's good, I suppose. Sometimes change can be beneficial, even more so depending on which way it comes."

Rachel nods, the tightening in her throat deepening. She thinks that there is a deeper meaning that could be found within the weight of his words, but her head is too tired do decipher.

"What would you like to talk about?" She asks, changing the subject to neutral territories. "You did invite me here for a reason, and I'd like to get to the heart of the matter. I'd rather not waste my evening discussing my beverage choices. There are things that I need to finish."

Jesse smirks, unsurprised that a small comment would get to her. It's a trying time for her, easy enough to set her off.

"Maybe I did, maybe I didn't. I wasn't aware that I needed a reason to break bread with a fellow peer."

Rolling her eyes, Rachel searches for a calming remark in response. She vows to keep her composure, it's the strongest part of her.

"In case you haven't noticed, we're peers but not classmates. You are the competition, the competition I intend to ensure we steamroll come Spring. The only reason we need to be within the same vicinity of each other is if you're toasting to our win."

"Touche, Rachel. Touche."

An awkward silence settles over the table as the pair allows the waitress to take the order. Jesse observes Rachel answering, her voice calm and collected as she instructs the waitress to take care with the littlest details. Mildly impressed, he allows his mind to wander to recent events that have transpired within her life that past several days. He had heard of the break-up between her and the Puckerman boy, but the news had not caught him by surprise. He anticipated an end to the relationship, the couple was in possession of several vast differences. He frowns at the memories. Still, he had expected the break-up to be on the part of Rachel, not infidelity.

Jolted out of his thoughts, Jesse brings his thoughts back to the present moment when he hears Rachel's fingers snapping in front of his face.

"Earth to St. Jesse, come down to earth."

He chuckles in amusement, despite himself.

"While we wait for the food to arrive, perhaps you should discuss the real reasons you asked me to come here, to meet and talk with you."

"I meant what I said earlier, Rachel. I wasn't aware we needed a reason to break bread."

"That's not what you implied in the auditorium earlier, Jesse. You implied as though there were things that needed to be discussed, important things dealing with me. Here I am, I came, and I have no idea why I came but I'm here, and you won't even tell me why we have to talk."

"I wasn't aware there was an implication in my voice, that there was something hidden within my tone."

He pauses for a moment, and she leans in a little, expecting him to tell her why he's asked her here. She tries to downplay the eagerness in her eyes as she waits for him to fill her in with why he asked her to come.

"How are you taking the break-up?"

Rachel opens and closes her mouth, momentarily stunned by the change in the subject. Leaning back, she debates on asking him how he's learned this information.

"I'm not sure what relevance this topic plays within this meeting. My personal life is of no concern to you. The relationship has drawn to a close, and even that has nothing to do with you. Besides, since when does news of my personal life run rampant at Caramel?"

Jesse holds up his hands in a mock peace gesture, shrugging.

"It's of no concern to me, I'm merely inquiring what effects it would have on your team. You know, seeing as how both of you occupy the same team and everybody knows you shouldn't mix business with pleasure."

He takes a sip of water, the beats of silence skipping between them.

"Well, I suppose I shouldn't say that," he said, staring at her pointedly. "You did."

Rachel blinks furiously, an upset feeling forming at the bottom of her stomach. She doesn't see why this topic would be of any of his business, nor as to why he would bring it up to begin with.

"I'd rather not discuss this matter with others, especially a significant matter with yourself."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry, or overstep my boundaries."

Rachel shrugs, her gaze looking away from him. She taps her foot nervously against the tiled floor, the tightening feeling within her throat having returned. Her stare travels around the restaurant, she wishes that the food would arrive at a quicker pace so she can leave.

She's surprised when his hand covers her tapping fingers, even more so when he flips her hand to trace the pulse at her wrist. She knows that she should press his hand away, grab control of the situation but she finds herself immobile by the touch, paralyzed to move.

"I know what it's like to watch a relationship disintegrate because of outside priorities, to watch things fall apart beyond your control. If you need to talk, I'd be happy to provide a shoulder to cry on. Perhaps talking would take your mind off the issue, and move back where it belongs; the competition, of course."

Rachel jerks her hand away at the words, disbelief multiplying against his touch. She should have known better, and known that he would be focused on the main goal at hand. There is always an ulterior motive to being nice, and he's the competition no less.

"No, thank you."

"Uh, I'm sorry, I guess. I thought we were having a moment."

"No," Rachel said abruptly, coughing. "No moment. You misinterpreted things. Since when do you care about my feelings, anyway? I'm a member of the opposing team, in the event you've forgotten."

Jesse doesn't have a chance to reply, the waitress drops the food between them, diverting their thoughts to the dinner in front of them. Hungry before, Rachel finds a lost appetite, picking at her food for several minutes while Jesse devours his food.

Wiping his mouth with the napkin, he stares at her. He never would have taken her for a finicky eater.

"I didn't know you ate like a bird, Rachel. Not quite the turn-on you would think. I prefer girls with a little meat on their bones."

"It's not a turn-on, Jesse. I don't have any reasons to impress you, and I wouldn't care if I did. For your information, not that it's relevant, I've lost my appetite."

"I don't believe you. Take a couple of bites, I'm sure you're hungrier than you assume yourself to be."

"I'm not taking orders from you. I fail to believe you actually care about my health."

"It's not an order, really. I think you're reading too much into things. I would hate for you to faint in the middle of your loss because you've decided to transform your dietary habits to resemble that of a baby bird."

A small smile circles the corners of her mouth, a twinge of delight at his concern. He's oddly nurturing, in a discrete type of way. She didn't expect that of him, expecting someone with ice in his veins instead. Reluctantly, she takes a bite of her food, if only to distract him from continuing to stare at her.

"I don't see why you would care, anyway. A loss is a loss, whichever way it comes."

"That's not true. I would rather you lost the competition because of a poor performance, not as a result of the leading singer fainting halfway."

"We're not going to lose. No matter how many times you say it, we're not going to lose."

He walks her to her car afterwards, watches as she leans against the door frame, hand brushing strands from her eyes.

"Here," Jesse said, his hand pushing aside a strand she missed. "You missed one."

Her brows crease in confusion, her heart surprised by the feelings sprouting at his touch.

"I have to go," she said awkwardly.

"I know."

She fidgets, unsure how to say good-bye. She settles for a handshake, a quick one before she can feel the warmth of his fingers seep onto her hands.

"You didn't tell me what the reason for this meeting was," she shouted suddenly, her voice carrying through the window.

He turns to look at her, a smirk on the corners of his mouth. She begins to feel sick, staring at him as the lights of the evening sky beam across his face. She catches her breath watching him, terrified at how suddenly he looks like someone she could love with. He doesn't answer her, waving as he drives away.

Rachel crawls into her bed after, her eyes directed upwards at the imprints in the ceiling. She sighs heavily, turning to fluff the pillow. There are a lot of things that weigh heavy on her mind, preventing her from sleep. It's going to be a long night.