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A/N: How was your day?

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"Give me a fucking break, you fucking cunt."

Muttering quietly under her breath, Grace almost spun right around when she noticed Rochelle by Santana's car during lunch at school the following afternoon.

"Get the hell off my girlfriend's car." Grace hissed, hitting the lock button so the horn would get Rochelle's attention. "Are you stalking me? This is stalking. It's creepy as fuck!"

"What? No!" Rochelle shook her head quickly. She sighed and stepped a few feet away so the woman had some room to breathe. "I thought a lot about Tuesday and realized I came off wrong. I put a lot of pressure on you when that was not my intentions and I'm really sorry. I just panicked and you're here and family has been scarce to me over the years, so...so this was important to me."

"Mhm." Grace hummed, searching through the truck for the Cheerios clipboard Santana always seems to forget. She tucked her girlfriend's favorite pen behind her ear for safekeeping and tucked the board under her arm, closing the trunk.

"I'd like the chance to get to know you and your family. My kids and yours. Without the stress or pressure of all that." Rochelle stood by the trunk and sighed when Grace narrowed her eyes. "I'm sorry."

"You can't just walk up in my life and dropped a fucking 'hey I'm gonna die unless you risk your pregnancy to help me'." Grace spat, stepping around Rochelle and marching toward the school. "I have a lot going on in my life and now may not be a good time for my children to meet other people."

"Then let me get to know you!" Rochelle pleaded, rushing behind Grace. "Everything I said was true. I found out you were my sister a few years back and it's taken me a while to get here but I...I have good intentions."

"You want me to give you false hope." Grace shook her head. "I can't have pressure on me of being a donor for you. I can't risk my children and my own health."

"Okay. That's heard. I won't bring it up again." Rochelle stated, quickly cutting Grace off before she could rush across the parking lot. "Grace, please. Give me a chance to be something to you. You're my little sister."

"Don't call me that." Grace muttered, looking away. "I barely know you and Will and I are not on good terms."

"But I don't know him! I-I do, but he's not the one I'm here to know. It's you!" Rochelle laughed lightly. "I'm Colombian, but I was born in Akron, Ohio. My mother went to school at Carmel High. I'm three-ish-four years older than you. I'm a Chef. I have kids. There...There has to be something we have in common and maybe I'm being too pushy, but...Grace, I don't have family. I could really use some family and I want to know my sister. I want to know you."

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