I know that he did it to hurt me. He was mad at me for turning him down. He wanted to get my attention. What better way to get it than having sex with her? He knew I would pay attention after that and I hate to admit it, but he was right. The moment they strolled into glee club practice together I knew what had happened and it stung. I didn't want it to but it did. It cut me to the bone.

If only he knew how badly it had hurt me. I think he saw the look on my face, the look of longing toward the two of them as they came in and sat down next to each other. The way my brow curled together in a frown when I saw her hand rest against his knee. He was watching me watch them and he knew he had my attention.

If only he knew the truth.

I don't care about him. I like him well enough, he is a pretty good friend and a great leading man to compliment my lead vocals, but I don't want him the way he wants me. He had always had a weird crush on me I could tell by the way his voice got softer when he spoke to me. As flattering as it was I always knew I could never feel the same way about him. So the day he asked me out and I had to say no was one of the hardest things I had to do. When I had no reason to give him as to why I was saying no, he got upset. He accused me of leading him on. I would never do such a thing, I was simply being a nice person and a good co-captain but he didn't see it that way.

It's a funny thing when someone has a bruised ego. They don't very well like it and do whatever it takes to land an equally offending blow to the person who has bruised them. Apparently to him, sleeping with her was the best blow he could deliver. He wanted to look desirable. He wanted to prove that I was losing out. If only he knew how much impact his actions had on me.

It's painful to sit here across the choir room from them and watch them together. I've all but zoned out on whatever Mr. Schuester is saying. I don't register anyone else saying anything or even anybody looking at me, if they are. I don't know why they would be. No one ever notices me, at least not the ones I want to notice me. A heavy sigh leaves my lips at that thought. I will never be noticed by her.

But I notice her. I notice the way the room stares at her when she walks in. I notice the way she strolls down the hall with her head held high like no one can bring her down. I notice the way she applies a layer of lip gloss at her locker between every class. I notice the way her nose crinkles when she is laughing. Right now, I notice her hand on his leg.

Why did he have to sleep with her? I want to cry just thinking about it. It's not like she's a virgin, we all know that, but for some reason this time stings more than the fact that she has dated most of the guys one every sports team in the school. I even sat through an overly detailed account of the time she and Puck fooled around in the library against the books. Not even that bugged me as bad as this.

He did this on purpose. If I didn't know any better I would think he knew the reason I rejected him was because of her and he did this to prove a point. That I will never have her, that I am not cool enough for her, and that she will never notice my existence past this glee club.

I force myself to turn away and look at anything but them before I start to cry. Tears start to build but a deep inhale of air helps cool the sting a bit. I stare at my hands and pick at a loose string on my shirt, even smooth my skirt over my legs repeatedly just so I don't look up again. It's just too painful.

"Are you alright, Rachel?" Quinn asks me softly and when I look up I realize everyone is looking at me. I take a deep breath and hope the tears have subsided enough to not be noticed when I look around the room. Every single person is staring at me in shock. What did I miss? I hurry and think of something, anything, to say to excuse my mental absence but when my eyes fall on her staring at me curiously too my throat closes up. She actually seems to care. Either that or she is morbidly curious about why I was not chiming in on whatever I missed.

"Sorry, I…" My throat restricts as I stare into her eyes and no further noise can escape. I give up the fight and shake my head, stand from the chair I had been planted in, and run out of the room just before the tears spill over. I find the closest bathroom and press my back into the tiled wall just inside the door, sliding until I am sitting on the floor, and bury my face in my hands.

I am so mad at him. I will never be able to forgive him and never be able to explain why. He dealt me the fatal blow that stabbed me through the heart, I hope he is happy. I hope his revenge was sweet because at least one of us deserves to enjoy her.

What I wouldn't give to hear her say my name and not have it be followed by an insult. How I would love to sing a love song and watch her watching me. I will never get the luxury now because I will never be able to look at her the same way. He has tainted her for me.

My love for Santana Lopez will forever be tortured and unrequited.