"It's like Groundhog's Day with you, Rachel. How many times is it going to take for you to realize that it's not going to work out?"

When Quinn first utters the words, they're Rachel's incessant pursuit of Finn and the girl's shortsightedness when it comes to her priorities.

Now, though. She isn't so sure.

This whole thing begins as something simple, something standard. Quinn wants Prom Queen, she's going to get Prom Queen, she just needs to exercise the perfect plan. To do that, she needs to get closer to Rachel.

It's not even difficult because Rachel actually pitched a good idea when she suggests original songs for Regionals, so it's easy to jump on board and offer a friendly allegiance in the name of Glee Club victory.

Except it all unravels over a single stupid conversation about Finn and she's left at the piano in the auditorium while Rachel exits in a manner unusually quiet compared to her regular diva stormouts.

Quinn knows she's hurt her, but she figures it's not her place to fix it.

When she wakes up to The Supremes singing Someday We'll Be Together, she thinks it's a little weird, because she's pretty sure that's the same song she woke up to yesterday, but sometimes her iPod doesn't really shuffle very well and repeats aren't that uncommon. She forces herself out of bed, not at all missing the mornings when she did this a full hour earlier for Cheerios.

Everything's business as usual until she grabs the conditioner bottle and it's way too light to be the same bottle she's sure she replaced with a full one after yesterday's shower. Though, it's still early and she's still waking up, so it's possible she had one of those dreams about doing totally mundane stuff. There's barely enough left to properly condition her hair and she absently contemplates how much she'd save on hair products if she just cut off half of it. But she might look weird. Or it could be totally cute. Maybe if she and Santana are actually talking this week, she'll get an opinion.

With her towel wrapped tightly around her, she checks under the sink and finds an unopened bottle of Paul Mitchell Color Protect conditioner, then places it on the shower shelf. The empty bottle clatters in the trash can and she's positive she's awake, this time.

Breakfast is eerily like the day before, in that her mother's already left for work, and it's just cereal unless Quinn feels like cooking something else, which she doesn't. She works through a bowl of Special K while the Keurig brews her regular Donut Shop blend morning coffee into her Cheerios travel mug (even though the team isn't a part of her life, Coach special ordered the cups from Europe and they keep things ridiculously hot for so long, she's pretty sure witchcraft is involved).

On the drive to school, she sees Mr. Ryerson out walking a cat on a leash, which was weird enough yesterday, so twice in a row is doubly strange. Especially when he waves at her and calls out something about her cheekbones, again.

When she finally finds a parking spot (she definitely misses the days when she freely parked in the designated Cheerio row, right next to the gym), she only has ten minutes before class. Finn's waiting, as usual, by her locker and the first thing she notices about him is that he's wearing the same shirt two days in a row.

"I know guys don't usually care, but try and mix it up a little?" she says, as she tugs on the front of the polo.

"Huh?" It looks good on him, though.

"Nothing, just wear something else tomorrow, okay?" She spins her locker combination and finds the books she needs to start the day.

"Is there something special going on?"



"Not as far as I know."

They walk together without any PDA, because they're still not officially on the radar, but that doesn't stop her from fixing his collar before she ducks into her first period class. Finn has this confused look on his face, but he looks like that a lot, so she just lightly pats his chest and says she'll see him at lunch.

Except she seeks him out during the break between second and third period.

"What's going on?" she asks.

"I... have no idea. Are you okay? You look weird. I mean, not your face or anything, but you seem like you're upset."

"Today's Thursday, right?"

"Um." Finn fishes his phone out of his pocket and looks at the date. "No. Wednesday."

"It doesn't make any sense."

"What doesn't?"

"Everything. I don't know. It's probably just nothing."

He looks up and down the hall, then gently takes her by the arm and guides her off to the side. "You're not... you know... pregnant, again, are you?"

She yanks her arm away and glares at him. "Why would you even ask that? You know we haven't done anything."

"Yeah, I know. And... I kind of learned a lot last week with Miss Holliday. But you're acting kind of confused and stuff and I remember when you were going to have the baby, you kept forgetting where you left your keys."

As much as Finn's oblivious to a lot of things, he can be attentive. "When I woke up this morning, I was pretty positive it was Thursday."

"Oh, I do that kind of stuff all the time. Earlier this year I woke up at three in the morning and started getting ready for school until Kurt found me and told me to stop making so much noise because it was cutting into his beauty rest regiment."



"One's an army thing, the other's, like, a treatment."

"Oh. I wonder which one he meant."

"The second one."

"How do-"

"-Finn!" She feels her voice go to a place she hates to hear, so she sucks in a breath and tries to get him back on track. "Focus. Please."

"Right. Uh, so..." His forehead creases as he tries to remember what they were talking about. "Oh. So, you thought it was Thursday. I'm pretty sure that without Coach Sylvester breathing down your neck all the time, you probably just aren't used to a regular schedule or something."

He has a point. "Yeah. That's... probably it." She smiles at him, because as ridiculous as he is about a lot of things, sometimes his simple approach to things makes it all feel a little less intense. "Thanks."

That's not it, though.

When lunchtime rolls around, she already knows Finn's going to be late because he didn't turn in his history assignment on time and has to stay after class. She knows there's an open seat next to Mike and Tina, who aren't her first choice for lunchtime buddies, but sitting with a make-out couple is still a step up from sitting alone.

She wonders if she's psychic.

The question resurfaces as she sits at the piano in the auditorium. Up until now, the day's played out like an all-to-real dream, but it's been tolerable. Like super intense deja-vu.

But when Rachel walks in, ten minutes after their determined meeting time, Quinn knows what she's about to say.

Still, she speaks first. "You're late."

Rachel doesn't even acknowledge that, but that's what Quinn expects. "We're friends, right?"

"I guess so." She mentally braces herself, because if Rachel goes off on the tangent she thinks is coming, she's just going to cut her off.

"I mean, like, everything happened last year. You gave your baby to my mom. We kind of-"

"Bonded over it. What's your point?"

"My point is…Is that I know we haven't spent a lot of time together this year, but I thought that we were close enough to be honest with each other." There's no way this is happening, because as predictable as Rachel it, it's like Quinn's physically heard the words before.

"Go ahead. Ask me."

"Fine. Are you and Finn together?"

"Yes. It's been a couple of weeks." She wants to say more, but she feels sick. This is too weird, too unsettling. Whatever resolve she had going into this is lost.

"Thank you for being honest with me, Quinn, and… And I'm happy for you and Finn, but don't go and try to rewrite history, okay? It was real between us. He chose me over you." The words are an echo in her head and she tries to ground herself by gripping the bench underneath her, but something isn't right.

She looks up to see Rachel still on the other side of the piano, but she falls out of focus and then Quinn hits the floor.

"Quinn?!" Someone's shaking her shoulder. "Quinn, can you hear me?"

Her head hurts and that just compounds exponentially when she forces her eyes open to see Rachel Berry leaning over her.

"Oh, good." Rachel exhales in relief and assists Quinn in sitting up. "I was about to run for the nurse, but I was worried about leaving you alone. It was a bit of a dilemma."

"How long was I..."

"A few seconds. You just passed out."

Quinn rubs both her hands over her face. "I should probably go to the nurse."

"I'll walk with you."

She wants to say no, but there's really no other option. "Fine."

"I feel I may have overwhelmed you with my statements about Finn. While I stand by them, perhaps I could have worded my feelings differently."

Quinn hates that she needs to lean against Rachel in order to stay upright, because the girl is driving her absolutely insane. "Why do you even care so much about him?"

"Why do you?" Rachel asks, keeping a steady arm around Quinn's back as they descend the stage steps.

"That's different."

"Because you're popular?"

"Because you don't need him."

"And you do?"

She feels the anger welling back up inside her. "You don't understand it because you're so caught up in this fairytale idea of romance. It's not like that."

"How is it, then?" They've stopped walking.

The words just come to her, not so much because of the repetitiveness of the day, but because she's thought about this on more than one occasion. "I get Finn, you get heartbroken. He and I stay here and start a family. I'll become a successful real estate agent and he'll take over Kurt's dad's tire shop." She pulls away from Rachel, but moves a little too quickly and has to catch her balance one of the auditorium seats. "You don't belong here, Rachel. You can't hate me for trying to get you out of here."

"No. I'm not giving up on him, it's not over between us."

"Yes, it is!" Quinn's close to tears and she really doesn't want to break down, even though she's already fainted in front of Rachel. "You're... so frustrating. This is exactly why you can't write anything that means something. You don't see past this stupid schoolgirl fantasy life."

Rachel's arms are crossed over her chest. "I'm walking you to the hall, then you can find someone else to walk with you to the nurse. I don't... feel very comfortable around you, right now."

"Whatever, I'll walk myself."

Brittany drives her home with a plan to pick her up the next morning, since her car's still in the school parking lot.

"Tomorrow will be better. Lord Tubbington says Thursdays are the best days. Other than Caturday."

Quinn looks into the face of the other girl and wonders why they don't hang out more, lately. "I'll take your word for it."

"Not mine. Lord Tubbington's."

"See you in the morning, Britt."

The nurse said she'd be fine, that she just needed to hydrate and rest. This was after Quinn glared at her for asking if there was any possibility she might be pregnant.

She downs a vitamin water and rummages though the fridge for leftovers. After she eats, she changes into her pajamas, even though it's still early. It's been a long day and she just wants to veg out.

She's sound asleep before ten o'clock.

As comforting as it is to hear Diana Ross three mornings in a row, she's convinced something's up with her iPod dock and makes a mental note to check the settings.

It isn't until she's in the middle of her shower and realizes the conditioner bottle is way too light that she considers her problem might be a lot deeper than she originally thought.