I hated Jesse St. James. In fact, I owed him a good punch in the face.
I know I'm not the sharpest crayon in the box, and that it took me longer than it should have to realize I wanted to be with Rachel, but things would have been fine if not for St. Douchebag; if he hadn't serenaded her with a stupid Lionel Richie song and stolen her right from under my nose.
The second week he was in my life things got worse. He was the reason Rachel, my Rachel, lied to me. And he was the reason that I slept with Santana—I didn't even really like her. Me and Rachel's first time should have been with each other, and instead I slept with Santana and she slept with him. Rachel meant the world to me regardless: I could feel it when we sang that Madonna mash-up together, and for a moment I thought she felt it too when I told her how amazing I thought she was, and how I really liked her. But then there was Jesse again, and he ruined it, putting his slimy arm around her, telling me she was a keeper—as if I didn't know already.
I hated Jesse St. James so much. I owed him so much pain.
I thought I was getting a second chance during the week of the Glist, when Rachel wanted to work on her reputation by doing that lame video "Run Joey Run"—but that just turned into a big mess. My only consolation was that Jesse was just as humiliated as I was. Possibly more, since I don't think he'd ever known a girl as prone to dramatics as Rachel.
And when Rachel lost her voice, St. Douchebag was nowhere to be found—he'd run off to spend Spring Break with his friends from Vocal Adrenaline. He just left her hanging there. I told Rachel—I told her—that he wasn't good for her; that he didn't care for her like I did. I knew it so much I actually got up in front of the entire Glee club and sang "Jesse's Girl". It's not like me to do that, but what can I say? Rachel brings out the crazy in me.
And I introduced her to Sean. I tried to prove to her how special she was, voice or no voice. Sean is a great guy, and I could tell meeting him meant a lot to her. I bet the wonderful Jesse St. James could never have done that; he probably would've stopped talking to Rache if she'd lost her ability to sing.
God I hated Jesse St. James. I owed him a full-body cast.
I wanted Rachel to know I was into this whole theatricality thing, so even though I refused to do Lady GaGa, I suggested the awesome idea of doing KISS: even Mr. Schuester thought it was cool. And I knew there was trouble the instant we found out that Rachel's mom was the coach of Vocal Adrenaline. She seemed so lost; I bet it never occurred to her St. Douchebag knew. I guess it didn't occur to me at first either, but it makes a lot of sense really. Plus, where was he, like, that whole week?
Don't even get me started on the week of Carmel High's "Funkification". I could've torn him apart for what he did to us; for what he did to her. St. Douchebag betrayed us, running back to Carmel, basically dumping Rachel in front of everyone, performing in our auditorium, TP-ing our choir room. As much as Puck and I still weren't okay, we set aside our differences and got our short-lived revenge. Short-lived, because, as good as it felt listening to the hiss of those stupid Range Rovers' tires, it was honestly terrifying sitting in the principal's office the next day hearing the word "expulsion" get thrown around. Puck may have been able to blow it off, but I jumped on board paying them back instantly.
And then, as if that wasn't enough, they egged her. Rachel, my Rachel, whose vegan lifestyle made her unable to stand the thought of eating a hamburger, had a volley of eggs thrown at her by an ambush of those punks, led by none other than St. Douchebag. God, I was ready to go all Russell Crowe on his ass (I know I said Braveheart, but if it had just been me, I would've been Russell Crowe). Even when Mr. Schue came up with a pretty smart revenge tactic—smart considering that beating them musically seemed to hurt them so much more than physically—I was seething. I knew we had to win Regional's.
I hated Jesse St. James with ever part of me. I owed him a box and a six-foot hole.
Leaving us high and dry when Sue Sylvester is a judge? We were so screwed. I hated Jesse as much if not more than Rachel, and I was scared that he wasn't with us. The more people talked about the Glee club being done with, the more worried I got. I couldn't figure out anything to say to put us back on track. When Rachel finally spoke up, I just about let out a sigh of relief.
"Mr. Schuester?" she said in a small voice. I eagerly listened; whatever she had to say was bound to bring everyone back together, to push us toward the finish line. That was Rachel's thing.
Then I heard her sniffle as she dropped the bomb. "Do you think instead of nominating songs," she said, her voice breaking. "We can all just go around the room and talk about things that we loved about Glee club this year?" She hugged her pillow harder as a sob escaped her.
The next day I went searching. I'd thought about it most of the night, and I decided it was time I stepped up as co-captain. I found Rachel, and I told her—I told her we were going to figure this out, and I told her we were going to win at Regional's.
And then she kissed me: she kissed me like I'd wanted to kiss her every day since I lost her—possibly since before then.
I was on such a high when we got back to the choir room, that I thought I might have been dreaming when Mr. Schue told us we were doing a Journey Medley, when he gave me and Rachel the ballad. I thought it couldn't get any better than this: the team singing the song that brought us together in the first place, and us, me and Rachel, singing "Faithfully".
And then came Regional's. I was standing at the door waiting for our song, and I saw her: the way her hair fell down her shoulders; the way her brown eyes shone when they looked up at mine; the way her smile was shy and confident at the same time. She looked up at me and told me "break a leg".
I thought about everything since I met her, everything I was and she was and we were together. I replied with the only thing that could possibly explain all of that. "I love you."
We sang, and I don't think even Journey could have put in the emotion New Directions did. We didn't win, and that hurt, and for awhile we felt…well, awful didn't even cover it.
But sometimes really good, impossible things happen, and we had another year, another chance to place. Mr. Schuester began to sing "Somewhere Over the Rainbow", and I saw this team, my team smiling and together, and Rachel laid her head on my shoulder and I realized that I probably never would've gotten all of this if not for Jesse St. James.
I hated Jesse St. James. But I think I actually owed him a thank you.
