Disclaimer: I do not own Glee. And blah, blah, blah.

Sort of AU.

Quinn is sort of the nerdy girl in the story and Puck's still the immature badass.

This is only my second year in McKinley and being slushied three times in the hallways between classes by the football team really does something to a person. I know that I'm at the bottom of the McKinley high social totem pole and it sucks. It really does. I'm not socially awkward, just socially invisible. People walk by me, people see through me. The only times I get noticed is when someone asks me to do their homework for them or when I get slushied in the halls. Even though I've only been here for two years, I knew that if you try to claw your way up to the top, you get shot down popular kids were horrible. Beautiful outside, cold like stone on the inside. I tried to tryout for the Cheerios but they narced my guts out before I could even get a chance. My BAOF (best and only friend if you didn't know) learned that the hard way. She's always been egging me on to take risks but I always decline. Rachel was incredibly talented but her talent didn't get her far. Her efforts were being wasted trying to impress these people.

"When we're famous and rich, these idiots will be our biggest fans." Rachel said, biting into her salad. I could only smile in agreement. "Those Cheerios," She said, nodding her head to the pretty girls in high ponies with non-trans-fat bodies. "Are going to be famous. Working the pole." Rachel said quite harshly.I laughed loudly and everyone's eyes turned to me for a brief moment and returned to their previously interrupted lunch. We didn't say anything for a few moments and then, "So you're going to Brown?" I nodded.

Brown's been by dream school since I was a kid and there was no changing that dream. "Yeah."

"Have you thought about it a lot?"

"Since I was a kid." I said, no shame.

Rachel just shook her head slightly. She still didn't like the idea that we wouldn't be in the same school together. Rachel received a full-ride scholarship to Juilliard and she was 89% sure. The other 11% was about me not going with her although we already talked about it.

"I've heard you sing Quinn. You're actually pretty good." That was Rachel speak for Please come with me to Juilliard. I knew Rachel was a million times better than me.

"Not good enough to get into Juilliard."

"You can go into acting! I mean, you've been in a few plays."

"In the community theatre playing 'townsperson #13." I said, rolling my eyes.

"And it was a non speaking part. Besides, Juilliard doesn't have acting. Do they?"

"I'm not talking about Juilliard." Rachel said, putting her elbows on the table.

"I'm talking about NYU."

"NYU has film?"

"No. I'm talking about you going to NYU."

"I don't want to go to NYU."

"Scratch NYU. I'm talking about New York!" Rachel said. Rachel's dream was to become a big Broadway star and New York was her ultimate playground. I know how badly she wants to go to New York but I was her BAOF. BAOF surpasses BFF by a million dimensions. We weren't sisters. No. We were a family of our own. As much as I wanted to be with my BAOF, I couldn't let my dreams to Brown go to waste. I've been planning to go there since I could breathe. Letting go of a dream is like passing out a chance to go to heaven or to an R.E.M reunion concert. "Rach, we talked about this. New York is your thing, not mine."

"But don't you want to see the top of the Empire State Building together? Or take a ferry down the Hudson River? Go on a shopping spree at Barney's? Or your number one stop, The Strand?" Rachel said with such relish that I could imagine myself doing all those things with my BAOF. It was very tempting. I sighed and instead of answering her directly, I took a bite out of the greasy cheese pizza and swallowed hard.

She was looking at me with puppy dog eyes. "Rachel, we talked about this."

"I know but I really want to do this with you. New York won't be as amazing as it is without you. I mean, sure it'll be just as amazing as I've always imagined but it would be more amazing if you were there. Who would be my shoulder to cry on if you're ten thousand miles away?"

"New York sounds amazing but I can't go with you."

"Please Quinn. Pretty please." Rachel said, oozing out puppy dog cuteness.

It took all my courage not to say yes. "Rachel…" In a way, she was right. We could grow apart. I would never want that to happen. There was Skype of course but we'd both be busy what with our fantastic new lives as adults. "I'll think about it." I mustered.

Rachel nodded. "Fair enough." Suddenly, a grape landed squarely on top of Rachel's head. Of course, the Cheerios equivalent to boys. The football jocks. They were the ones who did the slushie-ing in the halls. They were just as horrible and pathetic. I could imagine all of them as fat men, eating ice cream and watching Jersey Shore on their outdated cable TV. Rachel shot them a nasty glare but they just laughed like idiots as if it's the funniest thing in the world. "Animals."

Rachel huffed under her breath. "It's just a grape." I muttered but she didn't hear me."Don't mind them." I added for my sake.

"Someday, they're gonna work for me. They'll be my slaves." She shot another glance at them but this time it wasn't a glare. It was more of a look of longing admiration. She sighed.

"There's something about him." Rachel said longingly.

Of course, as usual, Finn Hudson, her long time crush. I smiled reluctantly. Finn was the school's most popular guy but he was dating Santana Lopez. Finn was better than the other football jocks. Unlike his best friend, Puck Puckerman. The "womanizer" of McKinley and all-around badass. He was usually the one who throws a slushie at me. He had a stupid Mohawk carved in his head and girls seemed to like him for that. But out of all that, he still somehow managed to be cute. I rolled my eyes at the thought.

"Finn Hudson. You can never get over the guy huh?" I said.

"What? What do you mean?"

"You're crazy in love with him. I can see it on your face."

"Well…we don't know that yet but I do have an intense infatuation for him."

Rachel admitted, finishing the last of her salad.

"Same thing." I sipped my Dr. Pepper. "But he has a girlfriend you know."

"I know that. I'm not stupid." Rachel stole another glance at Finn. "Someday; he's going to be mine. Just you wait." She shot a glare at Santana Lopez.

"You can't stop looking at him." I pointed out pointedly.

Rachel snorted. "You're just jealous."

"Of what?"

"That you don't have anyone to hold on to."

"I don't need anyone like that."

"Yes you do."

"I don't need anyone to drag me down. Brown is where I'm headed and no one's going to change that." I still stand by what I said.

"Say that you do have a special man in your life. Do you still want to go to Brown?"

"Of course."

"Easy for you to say. You've been single for more than two years."

"And it's gonna take someone amazing to change that status." Rachel just nodded and she studied my face then stole another glance at Finn.

Then as I was about to take a bite out of my Tater Tots, Rachel shot an excited look at me.

"What?"

"Puck's looking at you."

"Who?"

"Puck Puckerman."

"He's an asshole." I muttered and returned to my meal.

"And he's looking at you."

"Yeah and he's a total tool." I knew Puck's make. No way would he ever look at me aside from when he would throw a slushie in my face. Rachel was lying through her teeth. "Just look!" She said and reached across the table and slapped my hand. With an eye roll, I looked at their table but my eyes met his. He was cute but he was such an asshole. But I blushed furiously and he actually smiled. I looked away as quickly as possible. "See? You're already blushing."

"No I'm not." I lied. "Puck's an asshole." Rachel smiled knowingly. Like she knew that maybe we were gonna get married someday and have kids and maybe live in Philadelphia or maybe Boston. But we were polar opposites living in two entirely different worlds. If he wasn't such a jerk, I would definitely try and get his attention but that wasn't the case right now.

"But if he wasn't such a complete and utter asshole, would you date him?" Rachel wondered as if she read my mind. "I don't know." "Tell the truth. I know you're lying."

"Yes. Fine. I would but he would never notice me. You know, except when he'd throw a slushie at my face." I admitted with a slight frown.

So to avoid that topic of conversation, I wound right into something that Rachel would love to do. "Hey, I saw a flyer near the girls locker rooms that there's an open audition for Mamma Mia! tomorrow after school." "Yeah, I saw it too but I've got West Side Story in my pocket in the community theatre." Rachel said. "You should audition."

"No way. I'm not ready to delve in show business." I twirled my hair around my fingers. I've been into vintage actresses such as Audrey Hepburn and Grace Kelly but I knew show business wasn't for me. Maybe directing but not acting. "I can direct but I don't want to act in it."

"I guess. As your best friend, I gotta say, you're not the best actress around but you can direct. You've directed a few school films right?"

"Yep."

"You can definitely try your hand at directing a school musical." Rachel said and as the bell rang, we gathered our things. All the while, I couldn't help thinking about what Rachel said. New York would be great with her and all but Brown was my dream school. But even going to Brown and pursuing law wasn't my thing. I was into photography and directing and I could do all that in New York with my BAOF by my side.

But there was also a part of me that maybe could take a gap year off, move into a studio apartment where I could build my own dark room and maybe fall in love and maybe he could move in my apartment and maybe we could marry some day and have kids. The ultimate girl fantasy. But it was all too perfect and there was no such thing as perfect.

History ended and it was suddenly free period. I took out my Nikon camera and walked out into the football field and sat myself at the bleachers. The sun was hot overhead but the air was crisp and clear. It stung my cheeks and I wrapped my cardigan around me. The grass on the football field was newly mown and sprinkled with dew. The Cheerios were on the field, practicing their new routine while Coach Sylvester was yelling insults 'till she was red.

"Come on ladies! I've seen people with hepatitis dance better than that! That flip was sloppy Stephanie! Sloppy!" Along with the Cheerios were the football players who were doing drills. Coach Bieste was extra hard on them today since the homecoming game was coming up.

The team was doing exceptionally well ever since Coach Bieste took the stand last year. There were other students as well. Students in their McKinley High Athletics Department t-shirts that had to make up for passing up gym were flirting with the opposite sex and the Skanks who were smoking under the bleachers as usual. I sighed, breathing in that fresh air as if it would clear my mind.

I usually came here to take pictures and put them up my blog. Photography has been one of my main interests and it helped me calm my mind. I held the camera to my face and zoomed in on Coach Sylvester, shouting loudly at the Cheerios. Her face was red from all the shouting while the Cheerios were sweating heavily, executing the toughest cheerleading moves I've seen in a long time while keeping smiles on their faces.

I quickly snapped a picture and scanned the rest of the field. Coach Bieste and the football players were at the other end of the field. The coach was taking a long drink of water while the football guys were taking the opportunity to rest. Azimio, Karofsky and the rest of the neanderthal football players were laughing loudly like reptile brained idiots. I rolled my eyes and moved on.

I spotted Finn Hudson, about 6'3, the tallest guy in school. He was definitely cute but not hot. His hair was damp with sweat and there was a small smile on his face. He was passing a football to one of his players. At the other end was his best friend, Puck Puckerman. He was talking with Finn while passing the football back and forth. I rolled my eyes. I suddenly remembered that conversation with Rachel at lunch. I scanned the rest of the field but my eyes were magnetically attached to Puck and then I zoomed in. What was it about Puck anyway? Was I just attracted to him just because he was the bad boy type? That was so lame. But then he turned to me. His eyes pierced through the lens. He was looking right at me. I dropped my camera and let it hang around my neck. I blushed and sat down. This was the second time today. But why was I getting all hot and bothered just because he was looking at me? And now my heart was beating loudly in my chest.

I rolled my eyes for my sake. After a few minutes, the football players were doing drills again. I took out my camera and snapped some more pictures. After free period, I was headed toward my car, excited that I was gonna upload these on my blog. I had a big smile plastered on my face. I approached my locker and took out my things, the moment I turned around, an icy purple splash hit my face. I blinked hard, trying to process what happened. Down the hall was a roar of idiotic laughter.

Of course, the football jocks.

Good thing the halls were nearly empty. The slushie soaked through my cardigan and seeped into my shirt. The ice and slush hit my skin and shivered. Suddenly I was ushered into the girl's bathroom. It was quite blurry if you get hit by a slushie. The corn syrup burned my eyes. Someone was cleaning my face off with a towel and it was pretty hard to see. I was pretty immobile because of the cold. This was probably Rachel.

"Are you okay?" Definitely not Rachel's voice. I couldn't answer.

"Are you okay?" The guy repeated again.

As soon as my vision cleared, to my surprise, the one who was cleaning me off was Puck Puckerman.

I was speechless. Usually he was the one to throw a slushie in my face. "Um…" I said blankly. "You're Puck Puckerman." I stuttered awkwardly.

He was the last person I would think of to help me in a situation like this. "Yeah." He said.

My face was dry but my clothes were still soaking. "I was walking down the hall when I saw you get slushied." He explained as he put the towel in the sink.

"Why weren't you with the other football guys?"

He just shrugged. "I was just walking around." He looked at me for a few moments and then, "You're Quinn Fabray. The only girl in McKinley who's going to Brown."

I nodded lamely. "You shouldn't be talking to me." I didn't get accepted yet nor did I send an application but apparently everyone knew about my plans on going to Brown.

"What they don't know won't hurt them. So you're going to Brown." He leaned casually against the sinks.

"Yup." I said, popping the "p."

"Can't say I'm not impressed with that."

"You know you're not supposed to be here."

"Don't worry, I come here all the time to make out with hot girls." He said cockily. He crossed his arms across his buff chest. I couldn't help but stare at it because it was popping right out of his letterman jacket.

"Must be cool not to worry about your future. It's all laid out in front you and shit."

"It takes the stress away, that's for sure." I couldn't believe he was really talking to me. Like really talking to me like a real person. If we were seen talking in the halls, it would cause a social outbreak. I'd be far below the social totem pole. I would sink far lower than those glee kids. He smiled slightly. But what surprised me the most was that he was talking to me like I was a normal person and not just like a was a piece of dirty calzone dropped on the sidewalk. He was very easy to talk to and I was pleasantly surprised.

"I haven't gotten anywhere, yet."

"Oh."

"And that's why I want your help." He finally said. Oh…what an idiot of me to think for a second he was actually going to be my friend but it looked like he was being sincere about it. I blinked for a couple of seconds, trying to process what he was saying. "Look, my grades are slipping at an all time low and mom's pissed at me right now and if I can't pull my grades up I won't graduate. Look, I know I'm a football jock but I'm not into that."I raised my eyebrows but he continued. "Face it, I'm hot and I'm not gonna risk that playing football by getting tackled by other dudes. This face and body belongs on a Kelvin Klein underwear ad."

"You're saying you want to go into modeling?" I tried hard not to picture him in a photo shoot in only Kelvin Klein underwear.

"No. I was just talking about what could happen if the whole musician thing doesn't work out."

"You wanna be a musician?"

"Yeah. Like Neil Diamond and shit. But what I really want you to do for me is tutor me."

I had a hard time processing what he just said. "Are you saying I'm going to tutor you?"

"Yeah."

"Okay." I said awkwardly.

"So you'll do it?"

"I have to think about it."

"You'll think about it?"

"I'm very busy doing extra curricular activities and I don't think I'll be able to tutor you."

"How about after school?"

"I said I'll think about it."

"You gotta let me know tomorrow because Mr. Howard's gonna need my two thousand word essay on the Borgia family next week." He said almost desperately.

"Okay, fine."

"This only stays between us okay? You don't tell anybody."

"Of course." I said stiffly.

He smiled cockily as if he'd score front row tickets to a Green Day concert. "Cool."

"But first; I'll only tutor you if you don't give me a slushie facial. Ever."

"Fine, fine." He said quickly.

"I wanna hear it from you. Promise me." My hands were on my hips.

"Yes. I promise that I'll never hit you in the face with a slushie. Ever." He held out his pinkie. "Pinkie promise."

"What are we? Twelve?" I protested.

"Fine." He held out his hand and I shook it. His hand was warm and he had a firm grip. I shook it longer than I would expect to shake it.

"You can let go." Puck said and I immediately let go.

I blushed again. We locked eyes for a moment and then I shook my head, trying to snap out of his gaze.

"Are you okay? You look like you're about to have a seizure."

"I'm fine." I said quickly. "Yeah, okay. So…tomorrow at your house?"

"I'll text you my address."

He nodded and simply walked out the door. I splashed water on my face and headed out to my car.

I drove to my house, stepping hard on the gas. I really didn't know why I acted like an idiot in front of him. My heart was beating and all I could hear was the gravel under the tires of my car. One thing you should know about me: My family is rich. My parents were one of Lima's elite group of PTA parents. My parents actually support the arts programs at school. I tried to get them to open up to a photo journalism program but they didn't like the whole idea so instead they built a darkroom for me so they wouldn't have to go all that trouble. I sighed as I stopped in the driveway in front of our house. Our house was big like a miniature version of a Tudor mansion. It seemed big to me because it was only my mom, my dad and me living in it now. My older sister Caitlin was at Yale and living with her husband-for-three-years in their little apartment near the Ivy League university. Only Rachel knew how rich my family was.

At dinner I asked my parents if they would approve of my extra curricular plans. "Sure sweetie. You could be the musical director. I heard that spot's open." Mom said.

"So you approve?"

"Yes, of course Quinnie." Russell Fabray said.

"Besides, it wouldn't hurt to have a few extra things on your college application."

"How would you feel if I also took the time to tutor somebody?"

"Yes, that would be fine sweetie but are you sure you can balance all those things?"

"I'm pretty sure about that. I promised him that we could start tomorrow after school."

"Him?" Russell Fabray momentarily stopped eating. "This is a boy you're tutoring?" My dad had a thing with boys. He didn't like me dating especially because he's strict about me being celibate and being the perfect girl and abstaining from such an act of atrocity that if he ever found about me dating a guy he didn't approve; my body would be found outside McKinley's halls.

"He's alright dad. He's not dangerous."

"Just how is he not?"

"He's…he's actually auditioning for a role in Mamma Mia!" I lied. My dad wouldn't let Puck inside the house. He was more into artsy fartsy type guys.

"Oh…really?"

"Yes and he's actually also a football jock."

"Wow. A football jock auditioning for a role in the school musical. That's unlikely." Dad said, getting back to his meal."

"You're actually doing this for a good cause honey." Mom jumped in. "Not just you like this…jock?"

"No mom, he actually needs it. His grades are slipping."

"Well…is he paying you off?"

"Sort of." I admitted. After dinner, I raced up my room and connected my camera to my computer. I scanned through the photos and my eyes stopped on one. It was a picture that I didn't remember taking. It was of Puck. He was looking straight at me with his brown eyes, the corner of his lips threatening to twist into a sexy smirk. It was that moment when he looked at me. Beads of sweat were on his forehead and dripping down the side of his face. My heart thumped in my chest. My pulse raced. I swear that the Puck in the picture would wink at me.

While I was about to drift off, my phone buzzed on my nightstand. It was from an unknown number.

It said: Hey. This is Puck. So what's it gonna be? It almost sounded like he asked me out and he was waiting for my decision. I replied but before I could reply, he called.

"What?"

"So…what?"

"Yeah. My parents agreed but I told them you were auditioning for Mamma Mia!"

"What? That was not part of the deal. Not cool!"

"Look, my dad has this theory that all jocks are evil. My dad thinks they're only after one thing."

"What?"

"Sex."

"What's so wrong about that?"

"My dad's sort of approves with the whole "no sex before marriage" and he thinks those harmless arty guys are celibate and can't get some. Talk about stereotyping huh?"

"So I'm going to have to audition for Mamma Mia! Do you have any idea how shitty that is? My friends are going put my head in the dumpster all because of that."

"Look, don't worry ,just tell them your mom made you. Besides, all you Jewish boys are all mama's boys."

"Talk about stereotyping." He shot back. "I don't even know what that play's about. Is it about some dude getting laid with a bunch of chicks?"

"Not necessarily. You said you wanted to be a musician so this is your big debut.""Not in a freaking musical!" "Don't worry okay?I'm gonna be the musical director. That means I'm going to be the one who goes through all the songs and how they'll be managed."

"Like if you want me to make out with a hot girl during a musical number?"

"Choreography." I corrected him. Seriously, all he cares about was getting action on the set.

"Right." I could tell he was annoyed with the whole thing. "Whatever. I'll see you around." He clicked off. That night, I couldn't sleep. It was like I drank ten coffees. I turned and turned and turned but I couldn't get comfy enough in my bed. I didn't know what was wrong with me. I guess I was pretty excited that about the whole musical. I wasn't really going to let Puck get to me. He could turn back on our promise about the whole slushie thing. Maybe. A part of me said that he was just lying and maybe planning some sort of prank. I didn't know what it is but I vowed myself not to trust him. But another part of me couldn't help but buy his story. He seemed sincere about the whole thing. Either way, my walls will be up.

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