Disclaimer: We Are Not Associated with Glee or Fox, nor do we profit from it.

They dated for four months. He convinced himself that he loved her.

Despite what Quinn often expressed, he wasn't stupid. He knew they were never in love. He was smart enough to know that there was a difference between loving and being in love.

They were never even close to being in love. Love was complicated. It had to be. They were easy. They were Finn and Quinn - mirrors of each other in every way, from the popularity to the purity rings.

The mirror shattered the day she dumped him for Sam Evans. "I have more in common with Sam," she claimed. It had to be his hair. Sam's hair was sunshine yellow just like hers. Quinn was probably already imagining their big lipped, blonde babies.

She wanted a guy just like her. She wanted to date herself and perpetuate her perfect image into future generations until every person in the world was Quinn. Quinn. Quinn.

He hated her. He hated that she made out with Sam in the hallway before classes like he wasn't even there. He hated how heavy the purity ring she'd put on his finger felt.

He didn't even believe in it. All the bullshit about staying pure until marriage and serving God and being a vessel for his holy spirit – he was glad to be done with it.

Still, he didn't take the ring off. He liked that he had a choice of when to remove it. The ring couldn't break up with him.

It didn't take long after the break-up for him to realize how alone he was. He didn't have a girlfriend. He didn't have any real friends. All the jerks he used to hang out with followed dutifully after their new king and queen. They tossed him aside like an old, dirty gym sock no one wanted to claim.

He couldn't wait for Quinn to find new arm candy. Being left in the dirt would wipe the smirk off Sam's fat lips.

Since he had no one to spend time with besides his mom (and he wasn't that fucking pathetic), he stayed late after football practice. Maybe he could learn how to throw a perfect spiral. He'd throw the ball and win the game in the final few seconds. He could be a hero again. Quinn would want him back.

And he'd tell her no.

It was all he wanted – to reject her, to make her feel as worthless and replaceable as she made him. He had to find a way.

He dropped the pigskin and headed to the bleachers to brainstorm over a cold bottle of Gatorade. A bit of blue liquid dripped down his chin when he noticed that the seats were occupied by a single body.

Rachel Berry. He knew her as Noah Puckerman's girlfriend. He had a class with her once. She was loud and arrogant about the fact that she could sing well. That, combined with the fact that she was attracted to a guy as slimy as Puck, didn't leave a good impression.

She was hot though - in a sneaky way. And she was crying.

He was a sucker for crying girls. He blamed his mom. She cried too fucking much during his childhood. It made him a pussy.

He climbed the metal stairs until he was in hearing distance. Twisting the cap on his bottle, he spoke, "Hey, uh, are you okay?"

Her head snapped to attention. He winced at the dark tear tracks staining her cheeks. All that makeup made her look ugly. She breathed back her tears to answer him. "Obviously not."

Without thinking, he replied, "Sorry." See? Pussy.

"Why? You didn't do anything," she scowled in disgust, "unlike my piece of shit boyfriend who dumped me again."

He never heard her cuss before. She didn't look like the type of girl who knew how. Stealing a seat on the bleacher below her, he sighed pitifully. "I know the feeling."

"Quinn really dumped you?"

He squinted from the sunlight and turned his head away from her. "Yeah."

"I thought it was just a rumor."

"You didn't see her making out with her new boyfriend?"

"I don't really pay attention to her. All that bubbly fakeness and blonde hair - she's an eyesore." That made him smirk. "What happened between the two of you?"

He wasn't surprised by her question. He knew she didn't have a filter or any tact for avoiding personal issues. "Nothing. I thought we were fine. Apparently we weren't."

She wrapped her arms around her bare knees. He didn't notice how short her skirt was earlier. "Did she cheat on you?"

"No." He considered it. He felt stupid for not considering it earlier. "Maybe. I don't know. Why? Did Puck cheat on you?"

She shrugged. "Probably."

"That doesn't bother you?"

"Of course it does, but I can't change Noah. He's a teenage boy. He has urges. I refuse to satisfy them, so it makes sense that he'd get someone else to." She pointed to his hand with her foot. "Not everyone can be as pure as you."

He ignored her jab about his ring. "But everyone thinks you and Puck…"

"Have sex?" She finished unashamed of the word. "I don't care what everyone thinks. You should try it."

He stared at football field. The fresh green grass wasn't inviting. "Easier said than done."

She was quiet for a while. He could feel her staring at him. He didn't know what she found so interesting about the back of his head, but he wasn't going to ask. Eventually, she leaned closer until her voice was loud in his ear. "You need something in your life besides what happens in the hallway."

She's right. "Like what?"

"I don't want to talk anymore." She pushed herself off the bleachers. "Are you busy right now?"

He motioned to the empty field. "Obviously not."

She rolled her eyes at his sarcasm and grabbed his hand. "Come on."

She led him to the parking space his green truck occupied. He didn't have a moment to ask how she knew that it belonged to him because she pushed him against the passenger door, pressed her tiny, soft body against his, leaned up on her tip toes, and kissed him.

His eyes widen in surprise. He stared at her closed lids while she moved her lips against his. The prettiest smile he'd ever seen was painted across her mouth when she pulled back. "W-why did you do that?"

"You're going to make me feel better."

"Why should I?"

"Because I'll make you feel better, too."

He stared into her dark brown eyes. They were shining in the sunlight. They made him think of smooth melted chocolate bubbling in a hot pan. He didn't take another moment to think. He pulled out his keys and opened the door.

Rachel fused her mouth to his and they crawled into the truck without breaking the lip lock. Inwardly, he was panicking. He didn't know what he was doing. Was he supposed to feel her teeth? She kissed him hard and her tongue slid over his lips. He opened them because he thought that's what he was supposed to do. A happy noise came from the back of her throat, and she rubbed her tongue against his. He felt his dick stiffen in his jeans. Quinn never used tongue when they kissed, and from the way Rachel was kissing him, he had a feeling she wanted to do a lot more than kiss.

He was assured that she wanted more when she broke their kiss and sat up with her knees straddling his hips. Her hands went for his jeans. She slid the button through its hole and yanked the zipper down.

"Holy shit," he breathed once realizing what she wanted. "You want to…"

"Fuck," she answered clearly before bending at the waist to kiss him again.

He must have fell on the bleachers and hit his head. He was having some weird hallucination or coma dream or something. This wasn't happening.

Her hand slid into the seam of his boxers and wrapped around him. He felt her smirk against his lips.

Holy shit. It was happening.

"We can go back to my house."

"I want you now."

She grabbed his hand and moved it between her legs as if she didn't even hear him. She put an inch of space between their mouths to give him instructions. "You need to touch me. I want this to be good, but you're going to come really fast, so I need a head start."

Then his fingers were pushed past a cotton barrier and thrust against the softest, silkiest skin he'd ever felt. She moaned a little and moved his hand up and down a few times. "Just keep doing that until I tell you something different." She nuzzled her face against his neck and sucked on the skin under his jaw while he continued to stroke her.

His nerves were on fire. Nothing he fantasized about could have prepared him for this.

He did everything she asked. He pushed his fingers in when she demanded it and circled her most sensitive place when she gasped for him to give it attention. She rocked her hips against his hand and whispered in his ear, "You think I'm hot?"

His answered spilled off his lips before he had to think about it. "You're so hot."

"You want to fuck me, Finn?"

He almost came when she used his name. "Please."

It happened quickly. She rid herself of her underwear, and he pushed his jeans down. She made him swear that he was a virgin, and then he was inside of her. Everything after that was a blur. It was rushed and hot. His clothes felt sticky. There wasn't enough room. Rachel barely looked at him, but he couldn't see straight if he tried. Nothing in his life would ever feel better than that moment. He came as fast as she said he would, but she came tumbling after muttering a simple phrase over and over.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Finn strode into school the next day feeling untouchable. There were clouds under his feet. He'd ascended away from the gutter that was McKinley high.

He came crashing back down to earth when he turned the corner of the science hall and found Rachel pushed against a wall, arms wrapped around Puck, accepting his kiss.

He was frozen in place as he watched the girl he'd lost his virginity to 18 hours ago make out with her (ex?) boyfriend. Anger bubbled low in his gut. Did she lie? Was it all an act? Was she going to tell everyone? The silver ring on his finger felt suffocating. She was going to tell everyone. She seduced him – dumb Finn Hudson fell for her tricks. She probably went to Puck after she drove out of the parking lot. They probably had a good laugh at his expense.

His fist shot out against the locker to his left. The noise radiated through the corridor, but Rachel didn't move an inch. She tilted her head and opened her mouth wider.

Bitch.

He saw her again after school. She was sitting on the tailgate of his truck like she had the right. A dull white cigarette was perched between her index and middle finger. He approached her in the middle of a drag. He threw his book bag in the back of the truck and muttered, "Those things can kill you."

"So can random sex with a stranger," she mocked, hopping off the truck and stubbing the cigarette out under her shoe. "I could have given you aids or something."

"Like you'd care," he spit back walking around to the driver side.

She seemed satisfied with his response. Smiling, she grabbed her purse off his vehicle. "I just wanted to make sure you knew." He craned his neck in her direction. They locked eyes. The sweet chocolate hue was replaced by a murky shade of black. "I don't care."

He spent the next week watching her follow Puck. They argued. She snapped at him. He talked trash in the locker room. He caged her in between classes and tried kissing their problems away. She snuck off before last period and hopped into his car. He wondered how many front seats Rachel had been in.

It was disgusting.

He'd rather Quinn flutter around school with Sam.