Rachel opened Tinder for what was probably the first time in weeks.

After a long day of rehearsals, the last thing she needed was to mindlessly scroll through a dating app, and, yet, here she was. She'd exhausted her Instagram feed, her Twitter feed, and had Grease playing on her TV when she remembered that Jesse had made her download Tinder a few months ago.

"You need someone to occupy your time when I'm not around." Jesse had told her.

Rachel had scoffed. "You do know that you are not my entire world, right?"

"Aren't I, though?"

He kind of was. She had a few friends from college that she kept in touch with, and she was growing closer and closer to her castmates, but Jesse was her only true friend in the city. Rachel had run into him at an open call for an off-off-Broadway show during her sophomore year at NYADA, and they had grabbed lunch afterwards. He had matured a lot, as had she, and they had been close friends ever since, to the point where they had gotten an apartment together after she graduated last spring.

Close enough that he was concerned about her dating life, apparently. Jesse had a boyfriend, which had been almost no surprise to Rachel, but hearing about her own bisexuality had been quite the surprise to him. In the end, it had only brought them closer. And led him to downloading Tinder on her phone and setting up a profile for her.

Rachel wasn't lonely. Really. She had a few boyfriends on-and-off in college, a couple hookups–drunk and sober–but she had come to appreciate being single after her boy-crazy years of high school. But Jesse, in his blissful, love-induced state, insisted Rachel needed to get a boyfriend. Or girlfriend. Or someone .

So here she was, opening Tinder. Jesse was out, and she was bored but not tired enough to go to sleep, so why not?

The first person she saw was some man named Mark. He was fairly attractive, attended NYU, and he was twenty-four. But the name Mark reminded her of Rent , and Rachel didn't think he would make a good Mark. She swiped left.

The next guy was named Devon. His anthem was an R. Kelly song. She swiped left instantly.

The next guy was named Jacob. He was a bartender, twenty-three, and he was very handsome. Rachel swiped right.

She kept going. Liam, left. Oscar, left. Rafael, right. Adam, Nathan, Spencer, left, left, left. Tyler, right.

"It's a match!" lit up on Rachel's screen. She kept scrolling.

The next person was the first woman that she had seen yet. Selene, twenty-two, a senior at the City College of New York. She was gorgeous. Rachel swiped right.

She continued for a while, swiping left and right on all different types of people. She swiped left on a guy named Noah just because of his name. She found Brody, one of her short-lived flings during her freshman year at NYADA; she reported him. At one point she stopped looking at names and other details and just swiped right on anyone that caught her attention.

After about five minutes, a pretty blonde came up. Not just pretty, but gorgeous. She looked familiar, but Rachel couldn't exactly pinpoint it. She swiped right.

It's a match! You and Quinn have liked each other.

Rachel dropped her phone in shock. There's no way she read that correctly. There was no way. Quinn? As in, Quinn Fabray?

Rachel picked up her phone and hesitantly turned it over to look at her screen.

It's a match! You and Quinn have liked each other.

Rachel clicked on her profile.

Quinn, 22. Columbia University Graduate School. on instagram. 2 miles away.

She looked through her pictures. She had matured in the four years since Rachel had last seen her, but it was definitely her. In one of her pictures, Quinn was sitting on a bed, bed sheet wrapped around her, and she had taken a selfie where she was looking away from the camera. Rachel's insides flipped all around.

She couldn't believe it. Quinn Fabray. Her high school bully turned kind-of friend. In New York. On Tinder. Liked girls. Liked Rachel.

Surely, this was a mistake. A catfish, maybe? Jesse pulling some sort of elaborate prank on her after she (drunkenly) admitted to him that she may have had a slight crush on her back in high school?

Rachel read her bio. Recovering Catholic. Current lesbian. "I think of love, and you, and my heart grows full and warm, and my breath stands still."

Rachel googled the quote. It was Emily Dickinson.

She saw Quinn's anthem: It's a Man's Man's Man's World by Jurnee Smollett-Bell.

It was definitely Quinn.

Rachel made it to Quinn's final picture, which was another Dickinson quote.

"I need her — I must have her, Oh give her to me!" -Emily Dickinson, or me desperately looking for a girlfriend.

Rachel laughed, despite herself. Her mind was racing with so many conflicting thoughts.

Quinn Fabray was in New York City. Quinn Fabray went to grad school just minutes away. Quinn Fabray wasn't straight. Quinn Fabray was a lesbian. Quinn Fabray had seen Rachel Berry on Tinder and had liked her!

What the hell?

Maybe she just wanted to catch up. That's probably all it was. She had seen Rachel, had a laugh to herself, and swiped right just to see if Rachel would swipe back and message her.

Rachel stared at her profile and saw her instagram handle again. She looked up her instagram because, well, of course she did. Quinn's bio read " Yale '16, Columbia '18, This is my letter to the world that never wrote to me."

Rachel googled the quote. Also Emily Dickinson.

Well.

What the hell was she supposed to do now? Message her? What if it had been a mistake? What if it really was a catfish? What if this was all a figment of her imagination, and she was actually dreaming right now?

No , Rachel thought. I can do this. I can message Quinn. Sure, it's been four years, but she did swipe right on me. She could've ignored me altogether. She probably just wants to catch up. That's all.

Rachel went to send her a message. What should she say?

Quinn?

Hello, Quinn, it's Rachel.

Are you a catfish?

Did you know I had a minor (read: major) crush on you in high school and now we're both out and sapphically inclined?

Hey.

Hi.

Quinn?

Rachel sent it. It seemed like a reasonable first message. Just a question, her name. Simple. Easy. Light.

Her phone made a noise, and Quinn had responded.

Hey.

Sweet Barbra. All those eloquent Dickinson quotes and that was what Quinn said?

Is that really you? Rachel had to ask.

I'm pretty sure I'm Quinn, yeah. The blonde responded.

Rachel was quick to reply. Wow, it's been a while. How are you? How have you been? How was Yale? When did you move to the city? How is Columbia?

Since when have you been gay? Rachel stopped herself from adding onto the end of her slew of questions.

The response was prompt. Yeah, it has been a while. I'm good. I've been good. Yale was great. I moved here this past summer. Columbia is going really well. How are you?

Well, if that wasn't a loaded question. I'm… a bit surprised. I certainly was not expecting to see you on here.

Ditto, Quinn replied, Although I can't say I was disappointed.

Rachel was intrigued. And what exactly does that mean?

Just that I was glad to see your face after so many years and how I've missed you.

Rachel's heart fluttered. Quinn missed her? And was glad to see her face? In a friendly way, of course, because they had been kind-of friends before they went their separate ways.

And, if Rachel was being honest, not keeping in touch with Quinn had been one of her biggest regrets since she left Lima. Her friendship with Quinn truly had been one of her greatest accomplishments in high school. When Quinn had purchased those train passes, Rachel had been sure that they would have been well-used. Except they weren't.

(At some point over the past four years, Rachel had looked up the price of a single Metro North Pass and almost fainted. Quinn had bought those for both of them, and they were never used!)

Rachel had attempted to keep talking to Quinn past graduation, but beyond sporadic texts over the summer and a "Good luck at NYADA!" email she had received from the blonde during her first week on campus, she hadn't heard anything else from her. And she had tried. Rachel texted her, emailed her, Facebook messaged her. (Facebook!) But after a few months of silence, Rachel had given up. And she regretted it to this day.

But no longer.

I've missed you, too, Rachel replied, But I can't say I'm not still frustrated with you for essentially ghosting me after we graduated.

Would it make you feel better if I told you it wasn't only you? Quinn responded.

A little.

Well, there you go.

Rachel huffed. Got an explanation for me?

Not one that can be explained over Tinder. Quinn reasoned. Would you want to grab coffee sometime?

Rachel almost squealed. Meeting for coffee? Already? They had just started talking.

This isn't just some random person, Rachel had to remind herself. This is Quinn Fabray, the girl you knew for four years.

Coffee won't really work for me with my rehearsals during the day. Rachel just had to throw in that she had rehearsals, implying that she was, in fact, employed. Something about Quinn being enrolled in graduate school intimidated her. Well, really, everything about Quinn intimidated her. How about dinner instead?

Dinner's perfect. How's Friday? At seven?

Sounds great. Rachel confirmed.

Wait. Today was Thursday. Tomorrow was Friday. She was going to see Quinn for the first time in over four years tomorrow .

Great, I'll text you the address. Here's my number in case of anything.

And now she had Quinn's number. Which, funnily enough, had not changed since high school. Which Rachel only knew because she still had Quinn as a contact in her phone. And, yes, she was pathetic.

Rachel threw her phone next to her and actually squealed. She was seeing Quinn tomorrow.

She couldn't wait.

"Are you sure this is safe? " Jesse asked her over the phone the next day as Rachel sat in an Uber, heading to the address that Quinn had texted her. "I mean, are you really sure this is really her? "

"Yes, I'm sure." Rachel told him, rolling her eyes even though he couldn't see.

"Okay, Rach. Have fun. But not too much fun. And text me if you're not coming back tonight. "

"Why would I not be coming back ton–oh my god, Jesse!" Rachel exclaimed, face flushing deeply. "This isn't a date. This is two friends catching up after not seeing each other for four years. God, I can't believe I ever told you that I used to have feelings for her."

"Rachel, you guys are getting dinner because you found each other on Tinder. All I'm saying is to be safe and to tell me everything that happens, whether that is later tonight or tomorrow morning. " Jesse rationalized.

"Fine. I'm here. I'll text you later to let you know when I am on my way home." Rachel stressed the latter half of that sentence.

"Or not! " He teased. "Anyway, enjoy yourself. Tell Quinn I think she's still a bitch!"

Dial tone. Rachel loved him, but, man, if he wasn't extremely irritating at times.

She took a deep breath, fixed her hair one last time, paid and thanked the driver, and stepped out into the warm, late-August air. She adjusted her skirt and headed into the restaurant. Suddenly, Rachel was glad she decided to wear her nicer sandals instead of her regular flip-flops because this restaurant was a bit fancier than she had anticipated. It wasn't the most upscale place, but it definitely was not flip-flop-appropriate. She approached the front desk and gave Quinn's name for the reservation.

"I don't believe she's been seated yet." The hostess said. "She must be—"

"Right here."

Rachel froze at the familiar voice. She turned around, and her jaw dropped.

There she was. Quinn Fabray. Alive and in the flesh, after over four years.

She was taller than Rachel remembered. Rachel's eyes shot down to her Doc Martens which Rachel assumed had to be giving her an extra inch or two. She wore fitted dark gray pants with a black belt and a tight, sleeveless, white blouse tucked into the pants. She carried a light gray sports jacket at her side, and her hair was short, slightly tousled and falling just past her chin.

It certainly wasn't the Quinn Fabray she remembered, and, yet, it was. Gone were the babydoll and Anthropologie dresses of the past, and here, in front of her, was this grown-up, mature version of Quinn; Rachel liked it.

She really, really liked it. Quinn was absolutely gorgeous, and Rachel didn't know what to do. Or how to act. Or speak, apparently.

"Quinn, hi." Rachel said softly.

"Hi, Rachel." Quinn smiled gently, gesturing toward the hostess. "Shall we?"

Rachel turned slightly and followed the hostess, glancing back at Quinn every now and then. To make sure she was still there. That this was real. That Rachel was really getting dinner with Quinn, right here, right now, after so many years.

They arrived at the table, and Rachel sat down and watched Quinn place her jacket over her chair and sit across from her.

"Hi," Rachel breathed out, watching Quinn curiously.

The blonde chuckled. "Hi, again. How are you? How was your day?"

"I'm… really good. Great, even. Just had a long day of rehearsals today."

"For Jane Austen Sings , right?" Quinn asked.

Rachel gasped. "You know?"

"Well, I am an English major living in New York, Rachel." Quinn teased.

"Of course, that makes sense." Rachel replied. Of course Quinn didn't know because of her. It was because she was a book nerd. Of course.

"But, if I'm being honest, I have seen you in a magazine or two, but I never figured we'd run into each other. I… actually already bought tickets to the show. Opening night." Quinn admitted, cheeks flushed.

Rachel was speechless.

"Anyway," Quinn brushed it off, opening up the menu, "I am craving some good food right now, and this place has some of the best."

Rachel followed suit, opening up her menu. She frowned, not immediately seeing anything marked vegan and accepting the fact that she would probably be eating a salad tonight.

"Oh, there's a whole vegan section in the back," Quinn said, flipping to it in her own menu and showing Rachel. "That is, assuming you are still vegan?"

Rachel's heart flipped. "I am, yes, thank you."

They quickly ordered their drinks and food, and silence fell upon them.

Rachel's mind was racing with a million questions, and she didn't know where she should start. Or where she even could start.

"I can see the wheels in your mind spinning." Quinn grinned. "Go ahead, you can ask me anything."

"Are you sure?"

"I am."

Rachel took a deep breath. "What brought you to the city?"

"That's where we're starting? Whew, okay, not bad." Quinn joked. "I knew that I wanted to get my Master's, and I had been looking at schools in New York since my sophomore year at Yale. I actually applied to NYU in high school because the city fascinated me, surely a lot of which was due to you. When I got into Columbia's program, I didn't look back.."

"You applied to NYU in high school?" Rachel couldn't believe it. Quinn could have gone to college in the same city as Rachel. How might things be different?

"I did, yeah. I never knew if I got accepted, because I had to withdraw my application once I accepted my spot at Yale."

"Did you apply to Yale's graduate school?"

Quinn sighed. "Yes, I did, and I got accepted there too, but I was already set on Columbia at that point. I love New Haven, don't get me wrong, but I needed a change of scenery, and I've wanted to live in New York since we came here with Glee. Besides, my ex got into Yale's grad school, in the same program that I would have been in, and I did not need to see any more of her."

All of that information Quinn had just divulged left Rachel's mind when she heard that last word. Her.

"Now's about the time you ask me, right?" Quinn said.

"I can't not, I guess." Rachel admitted. "I–How did you–When did you–No, I'll let you talk. You can tell me as much or as little as you want."

"I appreciate that." Quinn stated tremulously, hand nervously tapping on the table.

Without thinking, Rachel reached out her hand to cover Quinn's, hoping to calm her a little bit. Quinn smiled graciously, flipped her hand over, and grabbed Rachel's. She squeezed it lightly and took a deep breath.

"Throughout high school, I was extremely bitter. I think that's an apt word. I was repressed, in every sense of the word, I was scared, I was angry, I was sad, and all of this culminated into a general sense of bitterness at the world and the situation I was born into. And I took that out on you, and many others, which was so wrong of me. And I'm so sorry for that. I really am."

Quinn paused, looking into Rachel's eyes, hoping to convey how truly regretful she was. Rachel squeezed her hand and nodded for her to continue.

"I was dealing with my parents' expectations, general expectations of being a teenage girl, of being head cheerleader, of being popular, and, in addition, I was dealing with all of these… feelings that I didn't know what to do with. After I had Beth, I really took that summer to try to figure out what I wanted, but I ended up falling into a lot of my old habits because they were what I was used to. By the time senior year came around, well, you know how that went. It was just kind of non-stop for me. I was a Skank, and then I wasn't and I went crazy trying to sabotage Shelby, and then everything was okay for a little bit. Things were cooling off and I was thinking, okay, maybe now I can finally deal with these feelings that I can't keep ignoring anymore. And then, well, you know, I got hit by a fucking truck."

Rachel gasped at her bluntness. "Quinn!"

"It's true!" Quinn laughed.

"This is no laughing matter!" Rachel was appalled. The countless hours of sleep she lost after finding out about Quinn's accident on the way to her (dumb) wedding were not something to laugh at. Not at all.

"Rachel, it's been over four years. I'm good. I'm almost completely recovered, and I need to joke about it."

"Fine." Rachel huffed. "I apologize for interrupting. Please, continue."

"So, anyway, I got hit by a fucking truck." Quinn paused for comedic effect, but Rachel just rolled her eyes and gestured for her to continue. "That kind of threw a wrench in my plans. So instead of figuring out what these feelings meant, I learned to walk again. By the time of graduation, when I was almost fully recovered, I knew I needed to separate myself from my environment if I wanted to make any progress on myself. So that's what I did. I told you that it wasn't just you, and I wasn't lying. It was everyone. Santana. Brittany. Mercedes. Artie. Kurt. Everyone."

"If you knew you were gonna cut us all off, why did you buy those train tickets?" Rachel couldn't stop herself from asking. Those damn train tickets haunted her to this day, especially since she now knew how much they had cost.

Quinn sighed heavily. She shook her head a little, seemingly at herself. "I guess I was hoping that something would change. In my mind, that is. Hoping when I got to Yale I would have that option if I truly lost myself and needed a reminder of who I was before."

"So I was your back-up plan?"

"No! No, it was more like you were my safety net." Quinn explained. "I was planning on isolating myself from everyone and everything. In hindsight, not my best idea, but it seemed like the right move at the time. It could have gone bad very easily, and I knew that if I got those train tickets, something physical and concrete that tied me to my past, I would have a reminder of who I was if I happened to lose myself along the way. And I knew that you would be there to help me remind myself of the person I once was. That probably doesn't make a lot of sense, but—"

"It makes perfect sense." Rachel reassured her.

"So, anyway, um, that summer I really did a lot of self-exploring and learned so much about myself that explained so many of my choices in high school that I didn't understand when I was making them, especially my choices regarding friendships and relationships. And, with this newfound knowledge of myself and my sexuality, I started Yale in the fall and subsequently stopped talking to everyone from high school. And I felt terrible about it. But it was something I really needed at the time."

"It was lonely, at first, but it was good for me. I joined some clubs, bonded with my roommate and the other freshmen in my residential college, and, over time, it became a little less lonely. And then, second semester of my freshman year, I met this girl in my poetry class, Emily, who I could not stand at first. She hated Emily Dickinson, despite her name, and insisted that her favorite poet was T.S. Eliot."

"Cats!" Rachel blurted out, then slapped a hand over her mouth in embarrassment.

Quinn just laughed. "Exactly, Rachel. Cats. As in, the musical. Her favorite poet was a man who wrote an entire book of nonsense about cats and how they get their names and about different types of cats. I hated her."

"I'll have you know that Cats was an extremely successful show and was the longest running show in Broadway history until Phantom of the Opera surpassed it—"

"Rachel," Quinn interrupted, "I know. I was the one that had to tell you that Cats closed when we came here for Nationals, remember?"

Rachel remembered being surprised that Quinn had known that Cats had closed, not to mention the exact year, but it makes sense now, with her being an English nerd and all.

"Anyway, I grew to hate her less as we grew closer over the course of the semester. Around spring break, I realized I was getting feelings for her, and I ended up asking her out at the end of the semester, just for her to tell me that she had a boyfriend back home in Florida. It sucked, especially considering that she was the first girl I'd had feelings for that I knew could possibly return them, but I got over it over the summer. When we came back from break, she was newly single and asked me if I was still interested. We were together for just over two years, and I'll spare you the details because I have been rambling for a while now."

"Have you seen anyone since her?" Rachel couldn't stop herself from asking, hoping her curiosity wasn't too noticeable.

"I certainly haven't been a prude, if that's what you're asking." Quinn winked, and Rachel's cheeks turned bright red. "I've had a few flings and hookups with some girls since we broke up, but nothing has lasted longer than a few weeks at most. But it has been enough to confirm that I am definitely not interested in men, and I really never was."

Rachel giggled. "It's crazy to think about how much time we spent fighting over boys in high school."

Quinn just hummed, not saying anything more. And, almost like it was planned, their food arrived at just that moment.

At the first touch of the food to her tongue, Quinn released a quiet moan, and Rachel nearly dropped her fork at the sound. She recovered quickly, shoveling her own food into her mouth before Quinn could notice her reaction.

"So," Quinn started after her first bite. "Now I'm gonna turn the question on you because I can't say it wasn't surprising to see your face pop up on lady-loving Tinder."

"Oh, well, I've known about my sexuality since high school." Rachel admitted.

"I guess that shouldn't surprise me considering your parents." Quinn said. "Not that they made you gay or anything! But—"

"But I didn't grow up with conservative, Catholic parents." Rachel finished. Quinn simply nodded for Rachel to continue. "I told my dads about my girl crushes just as I did about my boy crushes, and they were a little concerned for me at first because of all of the bullying I was already getting, but I told them that unless I started dating a girl, which was highly unlikely, that I wasn't going to make any sort of announcement about my sexuality, which seemed to quell their fears."

"Rachel Berry had girl crushes during high school?" Quinn teased.

Rachel smiled. "Of course I did, just as I'm sure you did as well, whether or not they were on your radar at the time." She bit her tongue to keep herself from telling Quinn that she had a crush on her, actually.

"And is it safe to assume that you are also enjoying single life, based on the fact that you are on Tinder?"

"That is correct." Rachel confirmed. "Although Jesse was the one to set up my profile, not me."

"St. James?"

"The one and only."

Quinn's jaw dropped. "You're still friends with him?"

"Friends, roommates, all of it."

"And is he still as much of an egotistical jackass as he was back then?"

"He still has a very healthy ego, but he is much more tolerable now that he has a successful career and isn't living in Ohio." Rachel explained.

"Sounds like someone else I know."

Rachel gasped. "I resent that!"

The remainder of the night flew by as Rachel learned more about this new Quinn and told Quinn about her own life. Before she knew it, their plates had been taken away, Quinn had paid the bill and was walking with Rachel outside. They shared an Uber, going to Rachel's place first, and Quinn asked the driver to wait for a moment and stepped out of the car with Rachel.

"This was… a lot of fun." Rachel told the blonde, truthfully.

"Yeah, it was. I know I'll be at your opening night next month, but I hope we can see each other before then?" Quinn asked, her hands fiddling together nervously in front of her.

"I would like that." Rachel replied.

A bright smile lit up Quinn's face, and Rachel's stomach turned over at the sight. She was still so pretty, especially when she smiled like that.

Suddenly, Rachel pulled Quinn into a hug, wrapping her arms around her shoulders. Quinn, in turn, wrapped her arms around Rachel's back, pulling her closer, and Rachel sunk into the embrace. Just like all of those years ago, they still fit so well together.

"I'll see you soon, yeah?" Quinn said softly.

"Yeah."

Quinn let go and got back in the car, and Rachel just heard her tell the driver "Morningside Heights" before the car pulled away.

Morningside Heights was in the complete opposite direction of where she lived. But they had still shared an Uber. Huh.

Rachel's opening night of Jane Austen Sings had been months in the making, and now that it was here, she was ecstatic. But the idea of Quinn being in the audience terrified her.

They had gotten dinner twice and coffee once in the past couple weeks, and they had been texting almost daily. Each time she saw Quinn, Rachel was reminded of her former crush on the blonde. Not only was she gorgeous, but new Quinn was also funny, sensitive, charming, empathetic, kind; Rachel could go on and on. And she wasn't dumb. She knew she was developing feelings for her again. But she also wasn't about to trick herself into thinking Quinn could reciprocate.

They were just friends, first and foremost, catching up after a long period of separation, and Rachel didn't want to ruin that. Besides, Quinn probably had plenty of women seeking her out on a daily basis. Why would she want to be with Rachel Berry?

Can't wait to see you tonight. I know you're gonna be amazing.

Rachel blushed at the text from Quinn as she was doing her final touches on her stage makeup. She truly was and had always been so supportive of her, even in high school.

Thank you :), Rachel replied. Where are you sitting?

Orchestra, stage right, towards the front.

Rachel made a mental note to find her once she got on stage. I'll see you later! Duty calls. And don't forget to come back stage after the show! I made sure to put your name on the list.

The response came quickly. Like I would miss the opportunity to see you. Break a leg, Rach 3

The heart. What did that mean? Rachel's heart sped up at the sight of it. And the idea that Quinn wanted to see her after the show. The only other person she had in the audience tonight was Jesse. Her dads had work conflicts they couldn't get out of, so they were flying out this weekend, and her friends from college had all either seen the preview shows or were coming at some point in the next month. So it was just Jesse at her off-Broadway debut. And Quinn.

When Rachel took her place on stage, she immediately tried to seek out Quinn in the crowd, but couldn't find her. Regardless, the first act went flawlessly, and Rachel rushed backstage to her dressing room during intermission to check her phone for messages. She had two new texts.

From Jesse: It's going so well! Keep it up Superstar.

And from Quinn: You're incredible. I'm so proud of you.

Rachel squealed and quickly shot back two "thank you" texts. Adrenaline was pumping through her veins after the first act had gone so well, and she couldn't wait to get back out there and do it again.

Her phone buzzed with another text. From Jesse: You gonna tell me why I just saw Quinn Fabray here?

Oh, right. She may have forgotten to tell Jesse that Quinn was coming tonight. Whoops.

She ignored his text and walked out of her dressing room to spend time with her castmates before they were called for the second act. And before she knew it, she was on stage, and then the show was over. The audience roared with applause and with cheers, and Rachel took her bow in front of the sold out theatre, catching the flowers that Jesse tossed to her from the front row, tears filling her eyes. Her first official off-Broadway show had been a success.

And all she wanted to do was talk to Quinn about it.

She walked off stage after bows, hugging all of her castmates and congratulating them on a fantastic show. There were already rumors flying around about taking the show to Broadway sooner rather than later, and Rachel pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind.

Rachel felt arms wrap around her from behind and a messy kiss placed on her cheek, and she squealed, "Jesse!"

She turned around, and Jesse wrapped her in a hug, lifting her off the ground and spinning her around once. Rachel laughed giddily and turned to her castmates.

"Everyone, this is Jesse. Jesse, this is everyone."

Jesse congratulated the whole cast on a great show and pulled Rachel aside. "Did you know Quinn was coming tonight?"

Rachel blushed. "I—yes, I did. She had already gotten tickets before this whole thing even happened, and I must have forgotten to mention it to you."

"Who's Quinn?" Her castmate, Luis, asked.

"Oh, she's, um…" Rachel stuttered, not realizing others had been listening to their conversation. "She's a… friend from high school. We found each other on Tinder by accident last month, and we've gone out for dinner and coffee a few times. She was in the audience tonight."

Rachel pulled out her phone to show her castmates the recent texts from Quinn and her contact picture in her phone.

"Damn, Rachel, she's really pretty." Her other castmate, Juliana, commented. "Have you made it official yet?"

"Made what official?" Rachel asked, looking at her castmates in confusion. She looked to Jesse, who was whistling and looking anywhere but at Rachel.

Luis laughed. "Have you asked her to be your girlfriend yet?"

Rachel gasped. "Huh? My what?"

"Your girlfriend?" Juliana said. "Honey, she clearly likes you."

"What are you even talking about? We are friends!" Rachel insisted, her mind spinning. They must have figured out that she liked Quinn and were just teasing her. They must have.

"Rachel, you found her on Tinder. Which means she must have liked you. On Tinder. And you've been on several dates." Luis explained.

Dates? "Those weren't dates!" Rachel exclaimed. "We were just catching up!"

Even if Rachel wanted them to be dates.

"Did she pay?" Juliana inquired.

Rachel thought for a moment. "Not for all of them. I paid for one. After she refused to let me."

Oh, shit. Well.

Were those dates? Quinn did pay for the first dinner, and the second. And Rachel refused to let her pay for the third; it's not like they split the bill. And they shared an Uber getting back to Rachel's place even though Quinn lived on the complete opposite side of New York. And they texted nearly every day. But that's what friends did! Right?

Rachel's breath caught in her throat. How was she supposed to know these things? Were they dating? Did Quinn think they were dating? Why would Quinn want to date her?

"Rachel?"

The soft voice instantly caught her attention, and Rachel looked up to see Quinn and… Sam Evans?

Noticing her confusion, Quinn just said, "I guess we are both roommates with our ex-boyfriends," with a smile before pulling out a bouquet of flowers from behind her and handing them to Rachel. Rachel gasped and accepted the flowers, which she then noticed were gardenias, and she gasped again.

Did Quinn know?

"You were amazing, Rach." Quinn said almost reverently, eyes shining with mirth and sincerity.

"Yeah, really." Sam agreed. "You stole the show. Quinn couldn't take her eyes off of you the whole time. Congrats!"

Rachel's heart sped up at the thought and laughed when Quinn's cheeks turned red, and she elbowed Sam in the side. "Thank you, both of you. It really means a lot that you came."

Rachel handed her flowers to Jesse, who had the widest grin on his face. She hugged Sam, briefly, before she moved to hug Quinn. Yet again, they fit perfectly together, and Rachel couldn't help but linger in the embrace for a few seconds longer than necessary. Sue her.

"Oh, right!" Rachel suddenly remembered her manners, releasing Quinn, but leaving an arm wrapped around the blonde's back. "Quinn, Sam, you know Jesse, and these are two of my castmates, Luis and Juliana. Guys, this is Sam, and this is—"

"Quinn." Luis cut her off, reaching his hand out to shake theirs. "Pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise." Quinn eyed Rachel curiously before shaking his hand and exchanging pleasantries with Juliana.

"You guys are joining us for drinks, right?" Juliana offered.

Rachel jumped in, "Oh, no, I'm sure they're busy, and it's been a long night."

"I'm in!" Sam looked to Quinn. "If you are, that is."

"I'd love to, if that's okay with everyone." Quinn looked to Rachel, clearly seeking her approval. Rachel simply nodded. Guess she was dealing with this tonight.

Later, at the bar, Quinn and Rachel were sitting side by side at a table in the corner, engrossed in conversation. Rachel learned that she and Sam had reconnected during her junior year at Yale, and Sam had moved to New York with Quinn this past summer for modelling. Quinn then ensured Rachel that she truly wasn't in contact with anyone else from high school besides him. And Rachel, of course.

"So, I have a question." Rachel said nervously. She looked around to see where everyone else was, and they all seemed otherwise occupied. Her castmates were dispersed across the dance floor and at the bar, and Jesse and Sam were trying to convince the DJ to let them do karaoke. Perfect timing.

"Mhmm?" Quinn hummed, sipping on her cocktail.

Rachel faced Quinn directly and lost her breath. Her hazel eyes bore directly into Rachel's, her hair fell in loose waves around her face, and she was absolutely gorgeous. She couldn't take it anymore.

"What are we?" The brunette blurted out.

Quinn just cocked an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Rachel shook her head, throwing all caution to the wind. "I thought we were just friends catching up, but my castmates thought we were dating, and that we had been on several dates, which in hindsight I guess they could have been dates, but I just was not sure because I'd never imagined that you could see me that way, and now I just do not know what is happening anymore and—"

Rachel cut herself off when Quinn just started laughing to herself. This wasn't funny! Why was she laughing?

"Why are you laughing?" Rachel pouted.

"Because you're adorable when you're flustered." Quinn answered, making Rachel blush even more. "Rachel, I found you and liked you on Tinder. A dating app. I then asked you out for dinner. And paid for it. I thought I was making my intentions fairly clear, but I guess not. If you don't want this, that's totally okay. I'm cool with just being friends."

"No! No, I…" Rachel trailed off. "I really like you. I don't want to be just friends. I just never thought you would be interested in me."

"Rachel, I've been interested in you since high school. I fought over boys with you because I was repressed and jealous of them, and I figured if I couldn't have you, I'd make sure they couldn't either."

Rachel was speechless. Since high school. "Wait, really? I liked you in high school."

Quinn laughed. "Of course you did. That's just how this is gonna work, isn't it?"

Rachel just hummed and leaned in closer to Quinn, not quite connecting their lips yet. She wanted Quinn to do it. She wanted Quinn to take the chance, admit her feelings, and—

"Kiss me." Rachel whispered.

And Quinn did. She moved those last few inches and kissed Rachel, sliding a hand into her hair to bring her even closer. Rachel twisted her body further, her legs tangling together with Quinn's under the table, as she cupped Quinn's and kissed her back. And it was everything.

Rachel's insides ignited at the feeling of Quinn's lips sliding against hers, Quinn's hand tugging at her hair, Quinn's other hand sliding up and down her back, before settling at her hip and tugging their bodies even closer together. The blonde pulled back, breathing heavily, and grinned shyly.

"God, you're incredible." Quinn whispered between breaths before leaning in to kiss Rachel again. She squealed, smiling into the kiss, and moved her hands back around Quinn's neck.

"This one is for Quinn and Rachel who are making out in the back corner!" Sam shouted into the microphone, which—where had he gotten that from?

They stopped kissing and watched all eyes turn towards them as all of Rachel's cast and crew cheered and whistled suggestively at them. Rachel blushed deeply, and Quinn just shrugged and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

Jesse shouted into another mic. "True love can be found on Tinder, folks!"

True love? Rachel thought, Who said anything about true love?

But when Quinn turned Rachel's face towards hers, captured her lips, and slipped her tongue inside, Rachel knew he couldn't be too far off.