I was never so naive as to think I could stop loving Quinn, not entirely, but I thought I could push it down. I thought that after everything she'd done, I could at least protect myself from her.

Tonight on that stage though, it became clear, I can't control how I feel about her. I can't keep it from my voice, my eyes, my every cell. All she had to do was get me in a position where I couldn't look away, where I couldn't fake my way through it and all my armor was lost.

Everyone beelines for the refreshments in the lobby like they haven't been fed before and I see my opportunity to slip out. I make my way to the choir room to get my coat and purse and as I'm turning with them in hand, she comes through the door.

"Did you think no one would notice?"

"Of course I thought they'd notice. I'm me. But cookies and government-issue Tang aren't my thing."

"People want to congratulate you. Your mom was looking for you."

"I texted her."

Quinn takes a deep breath.

"I was looking for you."

"And you found me." I start walking towards the door. "Now if you'll excuse me."

She blocks my path. "Why are you running away?"

"I just said I'm not interested in the cheap after-par-"

"I've seen you drink gallons of that Tang in the past four years and the only person who likes to bask in compliments more than you is Rachel. So, again, why are you running?"

"It's none of your business what I'm doing. Maybe I've got a date."

Her eyes brighten. "You don't."

"Either way, I'm leaving." I try to walk past her and she blocks me again.

"You felt it. That's why you're running."

"Felt what? You crowding me? Because yes, it was noticeable that you weren't planning on sharing centerstage."

Her voice is soft, earnest. "Those songs were meant to be sung to one person, Santana, not a crowd. That's what made them work tonight." She pauses, waiting for me to catch her eye. "That, and the fact that I love you and you love me."

I laugh rudely to break up whatever emotions are playing on my face. "Are we back on this again? Who cares?"

I've said it with all the venom I can muster, but she just looks at me. She just stares at me.

I would expect disappointment or anger, but all I see is this steady patience. It stretches out, and I shift my things from one arm to the other, trying to avoid her eyes. Praying she will bite back. That we can make this into a fight and not what has become a quiet descent into the truth. I'm drowning in it.

I try to take a deep breath, but the air feels too thick and my lungs press it back out. I return my eyes to her's for the briefest of seconds, but my face is crumbling and I move past her as she tries to reach out for me.

I rush out the door.

QSQSQSQSQSQSQS

I get texts and calls every few minutes for about an hour - Puck was apparently throwing a party to celebrate.

I climb under the covers after a hot shower and I'm just about to turn out the lamp when my mom comes in. She smoothes out my comforter before sitting on top of it with a plate of molasses cookies, then caresses my face, waiting for my eyes to meet hers.

"You forgave her?"

I nod despondently.

"You sounded beautiful up there."

"Thank you, mommy."

She takes one of the cookies from the plate and rises to leave, pausing at the door.

"You have to learn to trust your heart, Santana."

I smile weakly, but I don't want to believe her. The fear is too strong.

QSQSQSQSQSQSQSQS

I decide to quit Glee. It doesn't feel like I have any other option.

This is of course met with resistance.

"You can't do this, Santana! I know that things with Glee have been tough this year, but we're on the verge of something spectacular! We've never been this close before! We need you! Please! I'm begging! I'll give up a solo. You can close the show!"

It should appeal to me more to hear Rachel Berry beg me in a crowded hallway to do anything, much less sing her solos, but nothing can sway me, not even this.

"It's not for me anymore, Berry."

Each of them have come, one by one.

Schue even went so far as to pull me out of class.

"Santana, I don't know what's gone wrong. We've made it through some very troubling times and I just don't understand why you're deciding to leave now?"

"I need to focus on my studies, Mr. Schue. High School is almost over and I want to be prepared for what's next."

Mr. Schue just stares at me like an alien has taken over my body.

I stand. "May I be excused?"

"Santana, if you're doing this for any other reason besides academics, I'd really like you to reconsider. These are your last few months with your dearest friends and then you'll all go your separate ways. I would hate for you to regret not using your time wisely."

"All the more reason to start planning for the future the way I see it, Mr. Schue." He's clearly disappointed by my response, but I don't stay long enough for him to offer more advice.

What he said swirls in my head all day though and as I see Puck, Artie and Sugar funnel into the choir room later on, I wonder if I'm not making a terrible mistake.

I wonder. But it doesn't stop me from walking past the familiar room and out the exit doors.

QSQSQSQSQSQSQS

The next few weeks go okay. As usual, preparing for Nationals is all anyone can talk about and somehow over my time at McKinley I've limited my friend group to just glee club members. It's a little startling when I realize it.

I sit beside Shannon Walker at lunch just to avoid hearing one more argument over sequins or feathers. Shannon is equal parts excited and nervous at my arrival and quickly knocks over her milk. I grab her some napkins and you'd think they were made of gold when I return to hand them to her.

The conversation at the Cheerio table is less than stimulating, but at least it doesn't make me feel like I'm missing out. I decide to sit there everyday.

Brittany comes to tap me on the shoulder the fourth day and I glance back at her.

"Hey"

"Can I talk to you?" She gestures to the hall and I try not to roll my eyes. It is Brittany after all.

I get up and follow her out the door. I can feel the glee club's eyes on us as we leave.

The sound of a thousand conversations dims as the door swings shut. I cross my arms.

"If this is about rejoining Glee again, I'm n-"

"You're really hurting my feelings."

I stop my mini tirade and look more closely at Brittany. Her face is drawn.

"First it was just Glee club and I didn't like it, but I could understand. But now, you don't say hi in the halls, you never return texts and you won't even sit with us at lunch."

"I just need some time to myself, Britt."

"No, you're being selfish." The accusation is crisp.

I open my mouth, then close it. It's true after all.

"You need to get over yourself."

QSQSQSQSQSQS

Sue leans back in her chair when I walk in, stretching as though she expected me.

"Do you think I'm wrong?"

"For quitting glee club? No. Never. That club is a drain on society. You kids in there singing pop songs like it's going to get you anywhere other than your local karaoke bar every Thursday as one of those weird regulars who is just good enough to have a following of 4 or 5 people, 3 of those being hardened alcoholics." She nods, then shakes her head. "No, quitting was the best thing for you."

"Is this one of those reverse psychology things?"

"Why would I bother with such trickery to convince you of something you already know? That group is a waste of time and your friendships are all nearing their expiration date. Why even bother? Go home and watch 16 & Pregnant. Keep tabs on the mailman. No one remembers a National Championship."

Our most recent trophy gleams in a case behind her along side a framed photo of all of us together holding it. She sees my gaze rest on it.

"You said we couldn't win it without Quinn. I've heard the same said about you."

I shrug.

She presses her lips into a line – as sympathetic as Coach gets.

"Yes, Santana, you're wrong. And not just about glee."

My face falls further if possible. Even though all her actions had been in support, even malicious support of our relationship, I thought her cyncism might prevail. I thought there was a chance that someone could be on my side. It was a silly hope when my own heart wasn't on my side.

"So what should I do?"

"I think you already know." She swivels her chair to look at the trophy. "Schue isn't smart enough to get a tiger."

QSQSQSQSQSQS

The group is arguing back and forth when I hover in the doorway. Rachel is the first to see me and her excited gasp quiets the room and turns heads in an instant.

"I hope you can forgive me for my absence." It sounded so much better when I said it in the bathroom mirror, regal even. In front of them all, I couldn't keep the sincerity I actually felt and it came out sounding less than contrite – more, for lack of a better word, Santana-ish.

They're smiling like I could have flicked them off as long as I was coming back in the room to sing. Mr. Schue's mind is blown. I can see he is completely rethinking our performance. Tina rolls her eyes as she sees the same thing.

I walk all the way in and Rachel races up to hug me like she can't contain it. I pat her on the back and break free after a few too many seconds, taking a seat by Mercedes, who squeezes my hand briefly.

Mr. Schue starts talking excitedly.

The weight of her stare causes me to turn my head and she doesn't shrink away. Just levels me with a look that's curious, hopeful.