I don't speak with Rachel for the next five days.

Friday was a blur and Rachel seemed to be on some sort of dire mission everywhere she went, so I purposefully avoided speaking with her to not have to listen to her game-plan concerning Finn. The weekend was normal, staying home until Santana and Brittany dragged me out of my room to go show the world just how popular and social we really are, even with the setback of glee club. What can I say? when you're hot it doesn't really matter that you like to sing and dance on a stage. In fact, when you add alcohol, it's pretty encouraged. On Monday Rachel was missing from both school and glee, and when I saw Finn he was unusually withdrawn, making me question the situation further. I spoke to no one about my concerns, figuring that I could try to find Rachel the next day. When Tuesday came and went with no sign of Rachel except for glee, and then her basically sprinting out of the choir room after, I knew something had to be done.

Although my first thought is to run after Rachel's trail of dust, I calmly stand and follow the rest of the crowd out of the room. Then watching to make sure no one notices I start to speed walk in the direction of the bus station that Rachel always takes after school. Unfortunately for me, the bus has finally managed to come on time after glee and Rachel is already boarding by the time I reach the stop. Quickly I make a beeline for my car, swing the door open, and jam my key in the ignition.

Vaguely it crosses my mind that it seems a bit creepy to be following Rachel like this, but I need to talk to her. Furthermore, she's not gonna answer if I call or text her so this really is the best option.

At least, that's what I'll tell myself for now.

When she gets off at the bus stop just outside of Lima Community College I'm curious, but not exactly surprised. Taking extra classes at community wouldn't be much of a stretch for the overachiever, and as she enters a building with Fine Arts plastered on its red bricks I have to resist the urge to roll my eyes. Of course this is where she goes after we just spent hours singing.

A small smile tugs at my lips because honestly, her determination is adorable, but I force it down as I pay for parking and leave the permit in my car. Never having been in Lima Community College, I know I feel out of place, the roads are too wide for comfortable crossing, the students too spread out for a feeling of belonging, Even within the Fine Arts building the ceiling is too high and the hallways too empty; definitely too open of a place for me. As I roam blindly in the hall I hear the distinct echo of Rachel's booming voice.

"Hello, my name is Rachel Berry, and I would like to occupy one of your piano rooms for the next hour." she recites in her typical "professional" manner, devoid of any distress that she was showing in the choir room before. I follow the echo.

"We've gone over this, kid, you don't need to announce yourself, literally no one would notice if you just walked into one of the rooms and started playing. No one cares where you are." a monotonous voice drawls out in response, and as I turn the corner a bearded man with thick rimmed glasses stares blankly at Rachel from a worn seat at a desk.

Rachel pauses in a weird way, and seems to shake it off before replying, "Yes, well, nonetheless, it would be rude to assume. No matter how many times you have informed me of my capability to ignore common procedures."

Thick rimmed glasses stare through.

"I will be going now." she departs with her hair swishing past his beard as she continues down the floor. When she's fully inside one of the rooms down the hallway I notice I've been waiting behind this corner the entire time, and I quickly step out to feel mildly less creepy.

"May I help you?" the glasses are now turned at me with only slightly more interest placed in their scrutinization than for Rachel.

"No, thank you." I answer politely, then proceed down to the entrance I saw Rachel disappear behind. Through a glass panel in the door I see her staring down, her eyes glazed over as she has lightly placed her hand atop the piano's keys. She seems frozen.

Just as I'm about to reach for the handle and enter, I change my mind. This is definitely crazy now that I think of it, I've gone way past I need to speak with her and have fully gone into watching her like a crazy stalker. I rush to turn my back against the same wall as the door and slide down it with a sigh. Once again, when it comes to Rachel, I'm not even sure what to say. If I ask her what happened, am I just being nosy? If I tell her Finn's a jerk, and he doesn't deserve her will it just backfire in my face? If I tell her I'm here for her will she even let me listen? Before I can run over each bad scenario in my head I get a heart attack as the door swings open.

"Quinn? What are you doing here?" Rachel questions readjusting her bag on her shoulder, a slightly accusing tone slipping into her words.

"I followed you here." Great. I'm a creep. "I mean, only because I needed to talk to you. When I get caught up in an idea, I tend to stop thinking about how crazy it is."

She seems surprised for a moment then laughs, "I mean, I've always known so, but I never thought you'd admit how crazy you can get."

"I said how crazy the idea is, not me." I glare, but a hint of a smile peeks through, and I know she can see it.

Her eyes light up as she grins at me, and I almost forget that she's definitely upset about something, "My mistake. Miss Lucy Quinn Fabray could never possibly be crazy."

My body heats at my full name with Rachel's voice as the source and the adrenaline causes a slip in my thoughts, "Crazy for something, maybe."

Once again I see a spark of something in Rachel's brown orbs as she stares down at me, but before I can start to overanalyze I spring up from my seat on the floor, grab her hand, and lead her away from the prying glasses now staring at us from down the hall. I lead us back into the music room, which I realize is only about the size of a walk-in closet, and shut the door behind me.

Rachel looks a bit too shocked for the situation, evidenced by her dropping her bag, and attempts to speak, her words jumbling out, "Um, Quinn, I-I really want to-"

"What happened with Finn? He's so clueless a majority of the time, I wouldn't be surprised if he spewed some baseless nonsense. I promise I will listen to whatever you have to say about it, Rachel, and try to keep my excruciatingly low opinions about him to myself." In my desperation to avoid what just happened, I spill out all of my bad questions at once.

"Oh." she breathes out for a moment then seems to laugh a bit to herself. Weird. "Is that all this is about?"

My head tilts involuntarily and my eyebrow shoots up, "Is that all? Rachel you haven't spoken to anyone besides Finn in days, which has to be a record for you. Finn clams up whenever anyone asks about you, or even mentions your name, and you actually missed school yesterday, when you're annoyingly obsessive about perfect attendance. There has to be more to it than 'Is that all'."

She stares blankly in my direction, seemingly delving deeper and deeper into my eyes. Then she blinks and comes back to my prying questions in this cramped piano room. Her back against a wall, albeit comfortably, she pushes herself off of it and closer to me. There's a gentle smile coupled with sad eyes, and although my instinct is to look away, I'm mesmerized.

"You've been thinking about me a lot lately."

My heart starts beating a mile a minute. It's a simple observation, and an obvious one considering I'm here, but those eyes, and that tone, and her words shake me. Defensive remarks sit at the tip of my tongue, but I swallow down the toxic bile. Her smile remains unwavering but her eyes blend from caring to analytical to understanding. She rests back on the far wall.

"Thank you, Quinn. You've done more than you could ever know just by showing me you care." My eyes droop, but not before I notice a solemnity cross her features. "Finn won't consider alternatives. He said he has to at least try to really know if what he wants is wrong. I'm not going to pretend that I'm not upset, but I understand where he's coming from." Again she lifts from the wall and approaches me, her hand running through her hair as she rests the other on the piano. "Once we graduate we'll get our first real taste of freedom. I wouldn't want to take that away from him by guilting him into coming to New York with me." she takes a deep breathe that seems to solidify her peace with the matter. Then acknowledges my presence with a firm look into my eyes as she finishes her monologue. "Maybe we just have different dreams."

She's confident and assured, her voice steady in its sad message. She glows with an understanding and maturity that I could only hope to fake in my past eighteen years. For all my poise, acceptance of matters beyond my control has never sat well with me. Yet here she effortlessly masters a trait I've been striving toward since I gave Beth away.

She is a dream in herself, and I know I've fallen deeper in love.

My voice scratches at my throat as I force it out, "That's very admirable of you, Rachel."

She shines just as she did in Shoreland her sadness taking a backseat only moments after the solemn time. Bright, even as she is shrouded by an aura of dark. Gold stars really do suit her, "Although, I'm not sure my every action will match my words. I like to think I've matured from the sophomore who did anything to get to the quarterback."

I can't help but laugh at that, "I like to think I have too."

For a moment, we are laughing together and I get a familiar warmth in my chest that only happens around Rachel. Her hand has moved from the piano to my bicep and I think vaguely to myself that Rachel really likes touching the people she's around. It probably connects her more easily to them than she has had luck with before. Naturally, I lift my hand to the forearm attached to my left. She takes it as a sign to let go, but I squeeze her to let her know it's okay. That I'm trying to connect back.

"I should let you get back to your practice. Wouldn't want to go completely crazy and end up marveling in your majestic voice, now would I?" my tone is playful, but a private session in this closet doesn't sound too bad.

Tch, closet…

She licks her lips, and instead of my heart speeding it brakes from full throttle because she has a glint in her eye that I'm beginning to recognize as a clear sign of her flirting, or at least I really hope that's what it is, "You're allowed to marvel whenever you like, Quinn."

Okay, definitely flirting.

Before I can respond she's picking up her bag from where it fell earlier, "However, I was planning on leaving anyway. Would you mind giving me a ride, please?" She smiles at me as she opens the door, as if she already knows I'm going to give her a ride.

She walks out before me, and I stand frozen for a second. Like staring at a star. I'm struck by the implications of this final minute, and quiet my head before it can start overthinking. I follow her out, but in a word I feel it: blinded.

The drive to Rachel's is pleasant from an outsider's point of view. We're laughing about insignificant matters we won't remember by the time I'm in bed, the radio repeats overplayed pop songs in the background, and the road is clear of most other cars in our path. Though in my mind, I've already screeched my tires along Rachel's driveway, forced her door open, pushed her out mid-drift while bouncing off the curb, and burned rubber toward my own home. I just don't know right now.

Rachel was flirting, right? That was flirting without a doubt…right? Usually, I can tell if someone wants something from me-and exactly what it is they want-if they so much as glance in my direction. Boys, girls, it never mattered, I knew I could have Finn wrapped around my finger in a second, I knew Santana was gay in the very minute that we met, but this was different, this was Rachel. I didn't anticipate Rachel ever liking me back. Not once in all of my fantasies did she ever want to be more than platonic friends, even in those make-believe dreams I never allowed myself to indulge in the idea that I hadn't already fucked that up royally through all of our drama in the past years. There was nothing that could have prepared me for Rachel even jokingly flirting with me like this. So yeah, maybe I was overreacting, but I'm not used to being caught off guard.

I collect myself enough by the time I actually do pull into her driveway to think about my next moves. Do I walk her to her door? Should I casually let her out, say something witty and then speed away? Oh God, what if she invites me inside?

She turns to me after unbuckling her seatbelt, "Thank you, Quinn. Although I was shocked to see you had followed me after glee, I'm really glad you did."

She smiles and my heart settles, finally knowing what I want to do. I unbuckle my own seatbelt and lean forward toward her pink lips. I hear a light gasp escape them as they part quickly to snap back shut. Slowly, I smirk to myself and reach my hand over to her side, grasping the handle behind her and pushing the door open. The cold air shocks her into the moment.

"You're welcome, Rachel. I'll see you tomorrow." A satisfied grin is on my face that I can't help but let show, she looks so cute when she's surprised.

She licks her lips quickly, glances down at the console, then softly breathes out, "Okay. Tomorrow then."

She leaves the car in a hurry, but not before I see a light pink blush covering her cheeks. I bite my lip to contain a rushing surge of giddiness running through my body. As my fingers grip the steering wheel tighter, I recall that when I was leaning into Rachel's space, she didn't back away.

This time, a week and a half goes by without any significant contact with Rachel. We say hi and make small talk a handful of times but nothing that makes my heart go insane like it did in the piano room. With four days until I have to send in the acceptance to Yale or Columbia I've given up on it, yet my armor has all but deteriorated in desperation despite my resolution. Not to mention, I know for a fact that Santana has noticed.

It's after glee when she finally confronts me about it in her typical fashion, which is basically just being the caring bitch she is.

"So when are you finally going to tell me? It's almost pathetic watching you scramble like this, Q." I guess I can take it as a blessing that we're alone right now.

"What has your overactive imagination come up with now, Santana?"

Her eyes narrow and I realize I've made a mistake, she knows I get defensive when I'm hiding something. Another sign that I'm slipping, "I know, Quinn. Like, I really know, and I've tried giving you time to ask for my advice, but now I'm impatient."

My heart beats faster because I've never said it out loud, but my lips are sealed.

"You're gonna make me say it?" She stares for a moment more, "Fine, you like the dwarf, I don't know for how long, but apparently a while cuz you followed her to that community college just to talk to her, and I know you wouldn't do that just for a friend."

I stare her down for awhile, but her face is stoic and sure.

"How the hell do you know I followed her?"

"Cuz I followed you, duh." She shrugs as if it's obvious, and I have vague flashbacks of the first time she was left alone in my room and I came back to misplaced clothes, makeup, and trash strewn all over the floor. This crazy, nosy bitch.

"What the fuck, Santana?!"

"I pry. It's what I do, Quinn, you've known this for years so let's get over that and move on to the real issue: your gay love for a New York-bound Rachel Berry."

I want to tell her to shut up, to hit her, or do something that will just make her pause for a moment, but I'm at a loss because someone else finally knows. Someone else knows and it just feels so…good. It feels like letting go of a ten ton weight I've been carrying for years, like a cool breeze in summer, I finally feel free.

I feel so free in fact, that my eyes begin to water, and I curse that more than anything.

As she usually does when Britt or I start crying, Santana panics for a moment before pulling a 180, "Woah, Quinn, look, I'm sorry. I'll just pretend I don't know anything. It'll be easy, I'll just blank it out of my memory like I did sex with Puck...or Finn...or Sam, or any guy for that matter."

I laugh at that and shake my head, "It's not that," I take a deep breathe, "I just didn't know it would feel this good to have someone know about it."

She's silent, and my head is down so I can't tell what she's thinking, but I feel a soft hand on my shoulder before I hear her reply, "You're such a sap... but yeah, I know what you mean."

I tell her almost everything because I've given up on hiding it. I love Rachel, and the last two weeks has been so much, so fast, but I know that it's going to end in four days. It'll all be pointless if I don't say something soon, a fact I still hide from Santana because that's how sure I am that I've taken this as far as it will go. Telling her would just get me a tongue-lashing about how if I don't do anything I'll never know, but I already know that. I already know, and I still haven't tried. I'm going to New Haven and Rachel's going to New York. These last moments were just a happy occurrence that I'll look back on when I'm in college for a few years like 'yes, I remember those crazy high school days,' and that's that.

I'm free now because at least someone knows, even if it's not the exact person I wanted it to be.

Tomorrow I have to confirm my acceptance, but today, Rachel hits me with a curveball.

"…what did you say?" I breathe out.

She's nervous, balling her hands into fists at her side as she repeats herself, "I think you're amazing, Quinn. You're kind, beautiful, intelligent, clever, funny. I've always known so, but in the past few weeks I think I've really let myself see it. You're the whole package, really. I know you're going to excel in anything you put your mind to." She pauses and bores into my stunned gaze, "I know you're going to do great at Yale."

There's a stall in her speech that cries for unspoken words, she's not saying something that I know she wants to, but I have no idea what it is. I'm speechless because we're in the middle of an empty hallway, and my hopes are too high for them to be dashed and me to remain stable.

She approaches me with a determined stride, and everything happens too quickly for it to register in my frazzled mind before she's already walked out the double doors at the end of the hall.

She hugged me, tight, trying to tell me something that I can't imagine without letting my hopes get in the way of my rationality. More than that though, she kissed my cheek. Lingering as if she didn't want to go. I'm hyperaware of the skin she kissed, and I turn to the doors to find she's long gone, and I'm here alone.

Now what?

The next day I make my decision.

Rachel doesn't acknowledge my existence. Not a glance, not a word.

Santana asks a million questions, and I just shake my head.

Exactly at midnight, I receive a text from Rachel., 'Where are you going to college?'

My eyebrows furrow at the message, and suddenly everything is pieced together. Someway, somehow, Rachel knows about Columbia, she's known since she approached me in the hallway two days ago, that must explain the abrupt confession and the restraint she was so desperately showing.

I reply immediately, 'How did you know'

A text comes within the minute, 'Ive been spending a lot of time w Ms Pillsbury since me and Finn broke up. She didn't know no one else knew about it'

I'm still confused at the message so I type out my thoughts hurriedly, 'That doesn't explain why my college apps came up'

This time the reply is much slower, enough to make me sit up in my bed and take deep breaths to exercise my patience. I'm not sure what to expect when my phone chimes.

'I talked about you a lot'

My heart skips a beat and my hands shake as I reply, 'Why'

The chime comes faster this time, 'Because I thought about you a lot'

I'm getting furiously impatient now, knowing that I need a clear cut answer to accept what Rachel is spelling out to me.

'Why'

Her answer is slow and as I read it I can hear her voice, just as slow and deliberate, 'Where are you going to college, Quinn?'

As I begin to unlock my locker in the morning, a presence looms behind me that I can't ignore. When I've gotten my books for my first class and pack it away, simultaneously shutting my locker, the presence barrels into me nearly slamming me against the locker.

It's the first time we've been in this hallway with so many people around, and this hug feels just as intimate as the last we shared just two days ago. She embraces me tighter and buries her head into my neck with a closeness that's making me dizzy. So I gulp, and after properly holding her back I lightly push her away my hands remaining on her shoulders.

She looks up at me with big brown eyes and instantly starts rambling, "I didn't want to do anything before because I was a mess, and honestly, I'm still a mess, and I don't know anything for sure besides the fact that I feel something here that I never expected to before, and I couldn't let you just go without at least getting it off my chest. So here it is, Quinn, I don't know what it means, and I hate that I didn't have the time to properly work my way through it, but I need you to know."

I stare down at her as she takes shallow breaths toward the ground then returns those frantic eyes back at me, "I feel something for you, Quinn. And I don't want to rush into anything, because I'm still working through the Finn thing, but I won't deny that I do."

I smile gently down at her, and for some reason I find it extremely hard to care that anyone could have heard Rachel's confession, and could be spreading the news as I think. I embrace her again, just as I did when I first found her looking so defeated in front of her locker three weeks ago, my lips brushing lightly against her ear.

"It's a good thing you've got four years to figure it out then, right?"

Her smile crinkles into my shoulder and I can't help but return it into the now nearly empty hallway. As she lets go and turns that blinding smile toward mine, I notice a shift in my body. It's light, a relaxation settling as the last bell rings to get to class.

The sensation is warm, and as I watch Rachel rush to pull herself together, I think I recognize the feeling as something brand new, something that feels a lot like letting go.

END