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Breathe, Quinn, she thought to herself. Don't get your hopes up. This was a daily routine: telling herself to breathe. She didn't know what Rachel would decide, but man, did she hope. What she prayed for every night; in those moments that God seemed so real, when their hands brushed past one another, when she caught Rachel staring at her from across the room. It had to be real. She couldn't have imagined it. She'll be here. I know she will. Quinn thought about the possibility of being stood up but she pushed it aside. She was clear in the letter she stuffed into Rachel's locker.

A car pulled into the abandoned lot and slid beside Quinn's car. She gripped the steering wheel tightly as the door on the passenger's side opened and someone stepped into her car. The blonde turned her head as a tear rolled down her cheek.

"She' not coming…is she?" asked Quinn.

"No. I'm sorry, baby," whispered Mercedes as she placed her hand on Quinn's hand. She was holding onto the steering wheel for dear life.

Silence filled the Volkswagen Beetle. Mercedes didn't have to say anything. She knew her words were superfluous. Instead, she pulled a distraught Quinn into her embrace. Quinn couldn't cry anymore. She just simply let Mercedes hold her and stroke her hair. The only thing that would have been better was Rachel's embrace. But she knew she wasn't going to get that satisfaction. Not tonight, anyway.