A/N: So, this was a drabble request I got from somebody. They wanted a Finchel fic about pudding. Alrighty?
Obviously, I don't own Glee. I wish I did, psh.
Finn had been sitting staring at his lunch tray for the past five minutes, a frown etched upon his face as he glared down at his pudding cup. He didn't how the hell she'd done, but Rachel had managed to stick a tiny little note inside of his cup of pudding. He'd blinked in confusion at first upon opening the pudding cup and seeing a folded up piece of paper shoved inside, but the confusion quickly turned to aggravation as he'd unfolded it and seen Rachel's loopy scrawl across the lines.
He'd read it over three times exactly now. 'Finn, we need to talk. Since you refuse to speak to me face to face, this was my last resort. I'm tired of you ignoring me. I know you aren't ready to give me another chance, but I at least want to talk about this.' The note had ended with a little gold star sticker stuck in the corner, followed by Rachel's signature that was now splotched with a stain of vanilla pudding.
Finn knew he probably should've talked to her. He'd been giving her the silent treatment for a while now, and even he was starting to get sick of it. But he was stubborn, and still holding what Rachel had done to him against her. Besides, now he was starting to get some progress with Quinn. He wanted back what he had with her last year. ...Kind of. Before Quinn turned into a raging hormonal pregnant woman that snapped his head off every two minutes. But he wouldn't have to deal with that part anymore, considering she wasn't with child - as far as Finn knew.
"Finn?"
Finn jumped, looking over to his side to see that Rachel had slid into the seat next to him. He frowned, looking back down at his pudding cup.
"Oh. Hey, Rachel."
Rachel chewed on her lower lip, wasting no time in getting to the point.
"Did you get my note?"
Finn didn't answer for a few moments. "Yeah," he said finally. "How did you manage to stick it into my pudding without the lunch lady noticing, anyway?"
Rachel sighed. "Long story. I offered to helped the lunch ladies this morning in making the pudding cups and vegetable trays. Which was quite a task in itself, considering my hand was still cramped from writing all those notes." Finn stared blankly at her. "It would've made life a lot easier for me if I'd have known which cup you were going to take."
Finn blinked. "...You put a note in all of them?" he asked.
Rachel nodded, looking down at her lap.
Finn sighed heavily, shaking his head and looking back to his tray. He stabbed a baby carrot with his fork.
Rachel bit her lip, staring down at her pleated skirt. "I should go. I only wanted to make sure you got the note." She paused briefly. "Do you think maybe we could talk... after school?"
The walls Finn had put up to keep Rachel out were wavering. He kind of missed her. Correction: he missed her a lot. And he wanted to trust her. His mom had said before to him, something about trust only being able to be regained by compromise, or some shit. He couldn't remember. He never could remember those stupid little phrases you got in fortune cookies.
"I guess," he muttered.
Rachel's face brightened immediately. "Great. I'll be out at the track, then. I'll see you." She stood up, leaned over, and pecked his cheek quickly. Maybe it was a little too much, but she didn't care. At least they were getting somewhere now.
As Rachel trotted off, her curls bouncing against her shoulders, Finn watched her, not even able to control the small smile that crept onto his face.