Written for a prompt at the glee_angst_meme on LiveJournal-

"2010-11 Junior Year; Thunderclap
Berry, Rachel: Not Pictured.
It's funny how four words can hurt like a knife to the chest."

Summary: Rachel always intended to become a star and forget her horrible years in Lima. Until she realizes that maybe Lima wants to forget her, too.

Spoilers: Through 2x01, to be safe.

Warnings: Language.

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, or any music from Moulin Rouge or by Sarah McLachlan.

Author's Notes: See first chapter =)

Rachel was so focused on appearing focused that she not only failed to actually continue working on her homework, but also to take note of the way Quinn was staring at her with an indiscernible expression on her face. Rachel may not have been aware of her, but Quinn was suddenly acutely mindful of the lack of bite in Rachel's reaction to Santana's personalized insult, a response that seemed purposely crafted to get the other kids to ignore her and move on to targeting someone else in their game.

Rachel Berry, Not Pictured.

Quinn never realized four simple, completely innocuous words could produce such a throbbing ache in her chest.

She wasn't expecting it - not the caption that accompanied the blank space where Rachel's picture perfect grin should have been, nor the way reading it slashed at her insides like a dull blade - but in retrospect, perhaps she should have anticipated both.

It had been an accident.

Santana and Brittany were messing around with the paint for their banners, goofing off and pretending they were going to attack each other with brushes, when Quinn got annoyed and lunged at both of them to snatch the paintbrushes from their hands. She didn't look up until she'd already started to move, so she wasn't prepared for Brittany to stand, miming as if she was going to pour the bucket over her best friend's head.

Quinn knocked against Brittany's knees, throwing her just off balance enough to drench Rachel's outfits in the red liquid. Santana barely managed to stifle a laugh, Brittany looked slightly mortified, and Quinn just sat there, shock mingling with her prior annoyance.

They cleaned up the proof of the disaster easily enough. The paint had been a last minute switch from markers, so everyone else was already in home room when they brought it in. And they'd laid a tarp down on the floor, so Rachel's clothes truly were the only victims of the spill, at least as far as they could see.

Brittany wanted to tell Rachel, but Quinn and Santana talked her out of it. Quinn knew there was no way Rachel would believe it had been an innocent mistake. Especially considering Quinn herself had been the direct cause of Rachel's need for a backup wardrobe on at least two previous picture days. No, it was better for everyone if they just kept this secret to themselves.

Quinn's memories were interrupted as Mr. Schue finally arrived to the choir room for rehearsal. Apparently the other kids had just finished writing in the communal yearbook, as Finn presented it to Will upon his entrance.

"We all pitched in and bought a copy to keep for future Glee clubs," he told their teacher. "You know, so it won't get messed up like the ones in the library."

Will smiled brightly at all his students. "That's a really great idea, you guys, thanks. Now just make sure all of you sign it before you leave."

"Oh we have," said Mercedes. A few kids snickered, and they all smiled. Except, Quinn noticed, for Rachel. She had put away her textbook, but remained more quiet than she usually was. Quinn also knew Rachel was the only one who hadn't written anything in the yearbook. Understandable, she reasoned, since she wasn't in it, yet it somehow felt wrong that the brunette - who really was more or less the front woman of their club - wouldn't have her memory preserved alongside the rest of them in the 2010-2011 Thunderclap.

And it felt wrong that nobody else even seemed to care. That couldn't be true. Could it?

"So," Will addressed the club once again. "In the spirit of yearbook day, I hope some of you came prepared with songs reflecting on what the past year meant to you. Who would like to go first?"

Kurt's raised his hand with a flourish and walked to the front of the room as Will called his name. Quinn once again shot a furtive glance over to Rachel, who hadn't even made a move to be the first to sing. It wasn't like her. None of this was like her.

Quinn could be cruel, she was all too aware of it, particularly after joining Glee and being on the other end of the social ladder for a short time. And though sometimes she wished she were a kinder person, it wasn't often that she made any attempts to change her behavior, or filter her scathing words before they leapt out of her mouth and crawled under someone else's unwitting skin. But even Quinn couldn't help but wince as she recalled the last time she saw Rachel acting this out of character. She'd willfully pushed the memory aside for so long, in an attempt to assuage her own guilt, but it was still there, tucked away in the back of her mind.

When she realized she must have accidentally left her history binder in the choir room earlier that morning, Quinn apprehensively made her way back to the rehearsal space after agreeing to meet Brittany and Santana in the cafeteria in five minutes.

"Quinn," Mr. Schuester called out from across the hall.

Quinn froze.

Mr. Schue was just leaving the choir room, and if he was coming from the choir room, he had to have seen the paint. She cursed herself mentally for leaving her binder behind. She undoubtedly would have already been high on the list of suspects of the crime, even without absentmindedly leaving evidence of her presence.

"You did a really good job on the song we rehearsed yesterday," he praised her. "I may have to give you another solo coming up." Quinn let out an internal sigh, relaxing enough to smile back at her teacher.

"Thanks, Mr. Schue," she said. "As a matter of fact, I'm on my way to practice for a bit during lunch." It was a great opportunity for a cover, she reasoned to herself, at least until Will's expression darkened slightly.

"Actually, Rachel's already there."

Of course she was. Quinn wasn't surprised, but she wasn't pleased either. She wished futilely that she didn't have to turn in her paper on the Roman Empire next period, so she could just wait until the end of the school day to retrieve her notes and avoid the undoubtedly furious diva's inquisition into the injustice that had been delivered to her possessions.

"I should tell you not to go in there," Will interrupted her train of thought. "But..." He contemplated his next sentence. "You and Rachel haven't been at each other's throats quite as much lately, and even though I know the two of you aren't exactly friends, I think she could use one right now."

Quinn's apprehension quickly melted into surprise at her teacher's words. Not only did he appear to know that something had happened to Rachel's clothes and not suspect her, but he actually wanted her to comfort the brunette? This was not at all what she had expected.

"Of course," Quinn smiled weakly, hoping he didn't notice that her response was equally as out of place. Sure enough, he smiled back like nothing was wrong, and walked past her towards the teacher's lounge.

"Quinn," Will called back suddenly, causing her to twirl around and face him. "You've really come a long way since you joined Glee. I'm proud of you."

She held her smile as firmly in place as she could until he had turned away from her and around the corner. Why did he have to say that? Quinn hated feeling guilty. She hadn't even done anything wrong - not really anyway. Granted, she hadn't admitted to being the one responsible for ruining Rachel's excess wardrobe, but it's not like she'd done it on purpose.

And besides, she'd had Santana and Brittany help her spread the word that anyone who slushied Rachel Berry that day would have their own avalanche of fruity deliciousness when they'd least expect it. If Rachel managed to get through picture day with her appearance unscathed, she'd be less likely to call for an investigation to uncover the perpetrator of the choir room paint scandal. At least that's why Quinn told herself she had broadcast the warning. And besides, there'd be less drama to deal with during Glee club later that afternoon. Rachel was always the drama queen, and having her picture messed up definitely qualified for one of her tirades.

Quinn was suddenly reminded why she was standing in the hallway during lunch to begin with as a pitch-perfect melody reached her ears.

"...leave all this to yesterday."

Of course she would know Rachel's voice anywhere. It was a breathtaking sound - an opinion Quinn was positively loathe to admit she held - and she couldn't help but lean her head back against the wall next to the door and just listen to a few bars.

If Rachel was singing instead of barging through the doors in search of retribution, everything was probably alright. Quinn wasn't entirely sure how, as she knew the girl couldn't have miraculously overlooked the wreck. Then again, maybe she was just singing through her feelings, and would go on her witch hunt as soon as she'd finished. Quinn wouldn't put it past her.

Rachel's voice cut out, though the blonde knew the song wasn't quite finished yet. She peered through the tiny window pane on the door and saw the diva clearly lost in her own world, spinning around with her eyes shut and internalizing the orchestral rhythms that would eventually give way to the remainder of the piece.

Quinn spotted her missing binder lying next to the wall on the floor. It was close enough to her current spot; if she was careful, she could be in and out of the room without Rachel taking note of her company. She eased the door open gently, slipping in without a sound. Her eyes darted back and forth between Rachel and her binder, so she wasn't startled when the lyrics spilled from the other girl's mouth once again. Quinn took advantage of the sound to cover the slight scratching of her binder against the carpet as she gathered it up and turned back to her exit. Her hand grasped the edge of door, preparing for her escape, when something rather peculiar happened.

Rachel stopped singing.

Quinn knew this song. It was from Moulin Rouge!, one of her favorite musicals. She knew there was no break in between those words. And if there was one thing she knew about Rachel, it was that she didn't break anywhere but in the absolutely appropriate spots. Had she seen her? Would she demand to know what Quinn had been doing in between the time Rachel left the Glee room that morning and the time the vandalism had been discovered?

Rachel's voice picked up once more and Quinn let out the small breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She should have kept moving, taken the two simple steps required to be completely out of this bizarre danger zone. But instead, for reasons she couldn't explain, she risked a glance over to the small brunette.

The girl was fixated on her mutilated belongings, which Quinn had purposely ignored during her quick foray into the room. Quinn blinked as Rachel's voice broke again. Was she...shaking?

Before the Cheerio could even consider considering approaching the singer, Rachel's knees buckled, beckoning her to the floor, her song completely disregarded as she fought for air.

Quinn froze, at a total loss as to what was playing out in front of her. Rachel's head burrowed into the skirt she'd taken down with her, pushing against the knees she'd pressed closely against her body. As her shoulders trembled fiercely, Quinn realized she was crying.

Part of her breathed a sigh of relief for herself that the girl was physically okay and Quinn wouldn't be morally obligated to intervene, but she couldn't stop the uneasiness she felt at the sight of the normally spirited junior collapsed in a sobbing mess on the floor.

Though she wanted to believe there was something else going on, another excuse for Rachel's current distress, Quinn knew there was only one possible cause. Any sliver of doubt would be immediately contradicted by the paint-splattered skirt clutched in Rachel's hands.

At last, Quinn's instinct to flee kicked into full gear. She took the last few steps out of the room and shut the door without making any unnecessary sound. She sprinted halfway down the hallway before she stopped to make sure she hadn't been followed. If Rachel caught her, she'd know she was the one who had been behind the assault on her belongings, and then Mr. Schuester would find out, and he'd seemed so pleased with her earlier, and then everyone else in Glee would...

Her thoughts came to an abrupt halt. Where exactly was she going with this? Yes, she could admit, at least to herself, that she cared a little bit about what the rest of Glee and Mr. Schue thought of her. Things were going fairly well, why rock the boat? But that's just it- things were going well. She was getting along with most of them, and they with her. They wouldn't just jump to the conclusion that she'd committed such an act, even if Rachel accused her. And why would Rachel accuse her? Just because she'd been in the room? No, she and Santana and Brittany had covered their tracks. This couldn't, and wouldn't, be pinned on any of them.

Then why had Quinn's brain shrieked at her to run?

And why was her heart suddenly burning in such a strange, unpleasant way?

She didn't want to think about these things. Not about how maybe she should have just been honest about what happened. And definitely not about how maybe she should go back and try to, what? Comfort the girl? No, Quinn didn't want to think about these things at all.

And as it turned out, she didn't have to. Quinn watched as a much more composed Rachel Berry strutted down the hall past her, looking for all appearances back to her normal self. The principal's officedidn't even appear to be on Rachel's radar as she passed it by and headed straight for the room where the photos were taken.

Quinn had made up for her mistake, keeping the slushies away from the diva for the day, and thus allowing Rachel to make it to her picture just as poised and well-prepared as she had wanted to be. Quinn had done her part, so she knew she could stop feeling so damn guilty.

Being the HBIC she knew she was, the blonde cheerleader shoved all those terrible, annoying feelings into a tiny corner of her heart, convincing herself that's where they belonged. Not front and center in her mind, making her actually question herself and think about things. And certainly not tumbling out of her mouth, apologizing to Rachel and telling her the truth about what had happened.

No, locked away where she'd never reach it again was exactly where that aching pain belonged.

Quinn managed to pull herself back into reality just as Tina and Artie finished the duet they had prepared:

"If you're lost, you can look,
And you will find me,
Time after time.
Time after time."

Their music faded out and the rest of the club applauded with smiles. The couple had happily gotten back together, and it seemed like a great song to celebrate the journey they'd gone through that year.

"Who wants to go next?" Will asked for the fourth time that afternoon. No one raised a hand. "I know school's almost out, but we're still a glee club, and you were all supposed to come with a song today."

Still no responses. Quinn noticed a couple other eyes, including Mr. Schue's, dart questioningly to Rachel, who seemed unprecedentedly interested in prodding a discarded water bottle cap on the floor with her flip-flop.

"Rachel?" the teacher prompted. Caught off guard, the brunette kicked the bottle cap a little too hard, sending it out of reach and forcing her to join the conversation.

"Sorry, Mr. Schue." A simple, three word response. And there was that dejected tone again. Quinn found herself wishing it would just disappear, be replaced by the girl's usual perkiness and cheer. But there it was.

"Wow, Miss Broadway herself doesn't have a song?" Kurt feigned shock, cocking his head to one side as he paused. "Yes, that was in fact the sound of a pig taking to the sky with his shiny new set of wings."

Santana mumbled something as she pulled a gleeful Brittany back down into her chair before she could run outside to look for this magical flying pig.

"Sorry to disappoint," Rachel apologized for the second time in less than a minute.

"Well I wouldn't go that far," said Mercedes. She and Kurt smirked at each other as Rachel's eyes slid back down to her feet. Quinn frowned involuntarily. Why was she the only one who noticed something was so off about the girl today? It was so painfully obvious. She didn't understand why none of the girl's friends would wake up and do something about it.

What friends? a voice in her head rang out.

Oh.

"Alright, well if no one else bothered to prepare a song, I guess we'll have to end Glee early today," Will looked disappointed in his kids as he opened his mouth to proceed.

"I'll go."

Quinn recognized the sound of her own voice before she was able to stop the words from escaping past her lips.

"Thank you Quinn," he beamed at her, and motioned for her to take the front of the room. She uncrossed her legs as she willed her brain to catch up to her actions. Quinn had in fact prepared a song to sing today, just as Mr. Schuester had requested of them. What song was it? She couldn't remember now. Did she bring music? What song was she supposed to sing? Her memory was a fog, too focused on trying to tell her something else to bother providing her with the information she was requesting.

"I don't have any sheet music," she whispered to Brad as she approached the piano. He smiled at her and asked what song she wanted to sing. Quinn's nostrils flared as she rummaged around for an answer. But she hadn't needed to worry, as her mouth was once again a step ahead of her brain. She uttered a quiet response to their pianist and moved to stand in front of her friends. Quinn looked around the room, blinking, before remembering to nod at Brad that she was ready to begin. The first few notes trickled out of the piano, and as they came together to form the first chord, Quinn's voice rang out with the opening lyrics.

"I will remember you.
Will you remember me?"

She had barely adjusted to the idea that this was the song her brain had been nagging her to sing before she also remembered how much she hated this song as a kid. Her mother had gone through a phase for several months where she would play it on repeat every time something was happening that she didn't want to deal with. Quinn remembered hearing the tune wafting through the corridors of her home after her parents had a big argument, or while her father was punishing her elementary school self for mediocre grades or unfinished chores. She intuitively turned it off any time she heard it come on the radio, or left if it started playing in a store. It reminded her too much of how her mother wasn't emotionally present for a large portion of her life, deferring all household decisions to Quinn's father and leaving her daughter alone to fend for herself as she grew up and learned how to deal with the obstacles she was faced with on her own.

"Don't let your life pass you by,
Weep not for the memories."

She noticed Rachel look up at her briefly, probably trying to determine if Quinn was singing about her ex-boyfriend, or her ex-one night stand, or someone else entirely. They did tend to share the same interest in boys, and Quinn didn't know if Rachel was currently pursuing either of them, if she was attempting to gage whether or not Quinn would prove to be a threat in her advances.

"I'm so afraid to love you, but more afraid to lose,
Clinging to a past that doesn't let me choose."

And really, Quinn couldn't figure out why she was singing this song. This was supposed to be a song reflecting back on her year. Why did her instincts insist she sing this? What was she singing about? More specifically, who was she singing about? Certainly not her mother, or her family. She couldn't figure out the riddle her subconscious was throwing at her, let alone its answer.

"Once there was a darkness, deep and endless night,
You gave me everything you had, oh you gave me light."

Rachel saw Quinn glance back at her and only held her gaze for a moment before bowing her head awkwardly. She didn't even make any attempt to give the impression that something else had caught her eye, Quinn realized. She just didn't want to look at Quinn. As with many of her thoughts that day, this discovery flustered the blonde, but didn't entirely phase her. After all, she guessed she kind of deserved it.

"And I will remember you,
Will you remember me?"

She had recognized the skirt. The one Rachel clung to for dear life that day in the choir room. She wasn't sure how, exactly - she'd only ever paid enough attention to Rachel's style decisions long enough to mock them properly - but the scene had popped into her head the second Rachel had latched onto the garment.

"Don't let your life pass you by,
Weep not for the memories."

Rachel had confronted her in the hallway last year about missing Glee. The less popular girl had actually complimented Quinn's singing, saying they could use her voice in the club, and letting her know that when the rest of the school found out about her unbefitting pregnancy and kicked her to the curb, she and the rest of the Glee kids would still be there for her.

"Remember the good times that we had?
I let them slip away from us when things got bad."

It had been an olive branch after years of Quinn actively spearheading the unofficial campaign to make Rachel's life absolute hell. Even though it was a year later, standing in the choir room, watching the scene play out in front of her, with Rachel whimpering piteously into that same yellow skirt, letting her tears fall on Quinn's paint without actually being able to intermingle with it, it suddenly felt like she had unintentionally thrown that same metaphorical branch directly back in the other girl's face.

"It's funny how we feel so much, but we cannot say a word.
We are screaming inside, but we can't be heard."

Quinn wondered if she would have done something differently if she'd known the girl hadn't gone to get her picture taken that day, hadn't rebounded back to her typical bubbly self as it had appeared. But she had known, hadn't she? She just didn't want to deal with it. She had willfully chosen to ignore the brunette's palpable suffering. She could tell herself it was okay, that she wasn't the one throwing slushies anymore, that even if she had been responsible for the paint, it hadn't been deliberate, but she knew, not-so-deep down, that still didn't make it okay. Even if she wasn't perpetuating the problem, she certainly wasn't helping. And after all Quinn had been through the previous two years, she should have known better. She did know better.

"But I will remember you,
Will you remember me?"

But more than that, more than just feeling a troubling sense of responsibility, Quinn realized she actually cared. That was what startled her the most. The idea that the pint-sized diva would be left out of the yearbook - school edition, Glee edition, her edition - felt wrong on so many levels. Not just because she was Rachel Berry, Glee superstar, and needed her memory preserved for future generations and biographers. But because she was just Rachel Berry, and Quinn kind of liked that. She was different, and a little strange, but she had stood by her when Quinn needed friends, and stood by the rest of the Glee kids in many of their times of heartache too. Why couldn't Quinn stand by Rachel during hers, too?

"Don't let your life pass you by,
Weep not for the memories."

It had never really been about the picture, had it? It was about someone wanting to hurt her, devastate her confidence, victimize her. Quinn knew that hadn't been her intention, but Rachel didn't. Hell, Rachel didn't know she had anything to do with it at all. All she had seen was the aftermath, because that's all there had been to see. No explanations, no apologies, just the bloody remains of a vicious attack.

"And I will remember you,
Will you remember me?"

She realized she was staring directly at Rachel now. The other girl didn't seem to have noticed, but Quinn knew the rest of the Glee club probably had. It was Rachel she was singing this song for, after all. She knew it, had known it since before the title had spilled out of her mouth as a request for musical accompaniment. It was just a foreign notion to embrace, that she was singing a sappy song about holding on to the good times and happy memories to Rachel Berry of all people. A song she herself hated, at that.

"Don't let your life pass you by,
Weep not for the memories."

But maybe that was the point, after all. Maybe in her own, messed up way, this song had been her mother's form of apologizing to Quinn for all she had been unable to do for her. Maybe this was the best way for her to apologize to Rachel for all the things she had been unable to say and do back in the fall. If she suddenly felt the need to try to make things right between them, even if Rachel didn't exactly know things were wrong, maybe this was the way.

"Weep not for the memories."

But if it was, then why did Quinn's heart still ache in that sad, strange little way?

The sound of applause penetrated the silence Quinn's voice had left in its wake, signaling to the absent-minded girl that her song was finished, and she could sit down.

"That was fantastic Quinn, thank you," Mr. Schue congratulated her. "And for everyone who didn't sing today, you still need to come up with a song for next week, so get to work."

The teenagers gathered up their belongings and started filing out of the classroom, the conversation turning from yearbook signings to what kind of class pranks they could pull at the end of the year.

Quinn was the last to exit, taking her time to gather up her things. Mr. Schuester locked up behind her and offered a jovial goodbye as they parted ways. The cheerleader ambled down the familiar hallway, perturbed that the feeling of melancholy still hadn't quite left her. She spotted Rachel at her locker, dropping off her textbook and collecting a few more items to take home.

Before she knew what she was doing, as had become almost habitual that afternoon, Quinn approached the other singer.

"Hi," Rachel seemed startled to see Quinn standing so close to her, but still managed to offer the first greeting when Quinn failed to speak.

"Hi."

"Did you want something, Quinn?" Rachel prodded as the silence continued.

"Yeah. I, um," Quinn stuttered. What did she want? Then she knew. "I was wondering if you'd sign my yearbook."

The look of puzzlement that crossed Rachel's face at this unprecedented request would have made Quinn laugh in any other situation.

"In all the years we've gone to school together, you've never asked me to sign your yearbook," Rachel pointed out. "I'm not particularly sure what you're getting at with this, but-"

"I'm the one that wrecked your clothes on picture day."

The words flew out of Quinn's mouth before she could think twice about the ramifications. But as the seconds ticked by, the potential consequences were all that sped through her brain, waiting for Rachel to yell at her, or demand payment for the damages, or just...something- anything but this overwhelming hush that had overtaken the already restrained girl.

"I know." The words Rachel finally chose to follow Quinn's admission of guilt were nothing if not bewildering, to say the least.

"You knew?"

"I saw you in the hallway between morning classes. You had flecks of paint on your cheek. I didn't think anything of it at the time, but after..." she trailed off, both girls fully aware of what she would have said.

"Why didn't you tell anyone?" Quinn wanted to know.

"It wouldn't have changed anything," came the girl's subdued reply. There were many times when Quinn couldn't tell if Rachel was acting a certain way because she actually felt it, or if it was just for the sake of dramatics. The fact that Rachel still wouldn't look her in the eye confirmed what Quinn already knew. This was not one of those times.

"It was an accident," Quinn told her with equal tenderness. Rachel met her eyes then, and the emotions she saw flash across her face in that short time were hard to take in. Confusion was primary, followed by hope, dashed by betrayal, and topped of with disbelief.

"I appreciate your admittance, Quinn," Rachel began. "But I can promise you I have no intention of attempting to get you in trouble, especially not after all this time has passed. What's done is done." Rachel shut her locker and shifted in preparation to take her leave of the conversation when Quinn's hand darted out and wrapped its way around the brunette's wrist.

"Rachel," Quinn hated the way her voice almost sounded as if she was pleading. "It was an accident." She could see the emotions pare down to hope and disbelief, but there was still conflict, so she kept on. "We were goofing around and the paint spilled. I didn't think you'd believe me, so I didn't tell anyone." Hope, disbelief, hope, disbelief...

"I'm sorry, Rachel."

In the moment she saw the girl's eyes flicker back to hope, and stay there, Quinn came to an important realization. If her mother had thought she was sending Quinn a message by playing that stupid song over and over again while their lives fell apart, she had been wrong. The best apology wasn't temporary slushy relief, or a selfishly turned eye, or even a song. The best apology was an apology, with an unspoken but genuine promise of change. That was the most important thing she could give Rachel, and that's what she wanted to give her.

"Thank you, Quinn."

The ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of Rachel's lips. But more than that, she could feel a spark that had been missing inside of her for the past few months strike back up. Whatever had happened, whatever Quinn had done, it hadn't been on purpose. Rachel knew it wasn't hopeful naivety that was causing her to believe the other girl - she could see that Quinn was telling the truth. She recognized a sincerity in the blonde's eyes that she'd seen in her bedroom mirror every time she tried to sing away everything that was hurting her. Not even Quinn could fake that emotion. It was an accident, and she was sorry. For some reason, she wanted Rachel to know that. It didn't make everything better, but it was certainly a start, and Rachel couldn't expect any more than just that.

Again Rachel turned to leave, poised to go home and rethink her strategies for explaining away the lack of yearbook to her fathers.

"Wait!" Quinn called. Rachel pivoted on her heel, not missing a beat, returning the exclamation with a quizzical look.

"You didn't answer my question," she continued. "Would um, would you sign my yearbook?"

Rachel put on her best reassuring smile as she answered. "I appreciate the gesture, but your apology was quite sufficient. I hold no ill will towards you."

"It's not a gesture," came Quinn's earnest reply. "I want you to sign my yearbook, Rachel."

"Oh," the quietness was back in Rachel's voice now, even if it wasn't the same as before. She suddenly felt silly, faced with the realization that she had sabotaged her own yearbook photo after all, if not by ink stain, then by jumping to an unwarranted conclusion about the disarray of her clothing. Really she knew it had been warranted, but it was difficult not to feel at least a little awkward in her present situation.

"I'm not in the yearbook," she finally told the girl.

"I know," Quinn's answer was instantaneous, as if it had been the motivation of their entire conversation from the very beginning. "But I'd really like it if you were in mine."

And with those words, Rachel Berry came to her own realization. She couldn't change what had happened yesterday, nor could she truly predict where tomorrow would go. But today seemed like the start of something truly different, and that...

That made today worth remembering.