Quinn has always known she's a good actress; she's performed in plays since she could walk, since she could memorize the lines. She may have never gotten the lead—you were too fat, too ugly, that's why—but she's confident in her ability to act like someone she's not, to be someone she's not.

It's how she can strut down these hallways like she owns them even though she's cowering on the inside. How she can force herself to wear this too-short skirt even though her mind is screaming that her thighs are huge. How she can walk up to the newest football team recruit and introduce herself.

Quinn knows the plastic surgery has done its job well when he stares at her dumbly for a second. Quinn's not vain of her new beauty—okay, she might be, whatever, she deserves it after all this time—but she admits that she can go toe-to-toe with the other Cheerios in the beauty department.

"Hey, Finn right?" Quinn smiles and tilts her head to the side like she sees all the pretty girls do.

There's a long pause as he takes her in. "Ugh—yeah, Finn. I'm Finn. Hudson. Finn Hudson."

There's something oddly adorable about this bumbling boy in front of her and Quinn feels her smile grow a bit wider. "It's nice to meet you, Finn Hudson. I'm Quinn Fabray."

"It's nice to meet you too." There's a long pause and she can tell he's searching for something to say. Finally, he blurts out, "We match."

Of all things he could have said, this is certainly the most confusing. "Like… clothes-wise? Are you color blind?"

There's a furrow between his eyebrows and Quinn shouldn't find his confusion so… cute, but she can't deny that she does. "Um. Not that I know of. I could be, though, I've never really thought about it... I can't tell the difference between black and navy sometimes. Is that color blind? Or just… a guy thing?"

"I think it's more of a… guy thing," Quinn replies, smile brilliant and tongue shyly peeking out between her perfect, white teeth. "So it wasn't about the clothes?"

"Oh. No. Our names, is what I meant." Finn smiles at her. "They match."

"They do, don't they?" Quinn bites her bottom lip in the most disarming way she can manage. "So my friends and I—you know Santana and Brittany, right?—we're going to Breadstix tonight and I was wondering if you'd like to come with us?"

"Just us four?" Finn's smile twitches suddenly into a frown.

"You can bring a friend, if you want," Quinn allows and she wonders if all boys are this easy to enrapture. Maybe it's just a Finn thing. She dislikes the thought of just any girl being able to make him act this way, though, so she amends it into a Finn and Quinn thing. She admits that she could get used to the joining of their names.

"How about… two?" he asks, trying to play it cool, which is hopelessly un-cool but oh so charming.

Quinn smirks at him. "Are you trying to turn this harmless get-together of friends into a triple date, Finn? How cunning of you."

He just stares at her. She sighs at his fish-out-of-water appearance.

"Now that I think about it, though, a triple date is acceptable." Quinn's smirk only grows cockier. "As long as we are paired up, of course. Our names do match, after all."

Finn sputters. "Um. Yeah, that'd be great—."

"See you later, Hudson." Quinn smiles at him over her shoulder for just a moment before looking forward again, walking confidently away. "Be there at eight sharp! I don't accept tardiness from my dates."

She doesn't look back but she's almost positive that he's frozen to the spot.