never knew that it could mean so much

by safeandsound13

So, they're lost in the woods, alone, and it's raining, and they're alone, and he's looking at her like she's the most amazing thing in this entire world, and did she mention they're alone? This is exactly why she hates camping. / Or, Glamping gets a whole new meaning when Finn's bright ideas and Ryder's stupid feelings are involved. Kitty/Ryder, headcanon imo, rated m for mentions

(a/n so i got a request from a lovely lady called sofia lamadrid here on fanfiction, and since i was just thinking about how much i miss seeing all my newbies, including these two cuties, i decided to take one on. i hope i did it justice.

the prompt: In a Glee camp, a rainy night Ryder and Kitty get lost in the woods, so magic happens xD

i see that xD there i know what it suggests haha

this takes place in headcanon IMO if finn had still been alive and he'd recruited the brandnewbies next to his own newbies and well, it's pretty self explanatory. it's mainly kyder but y'all know how i love to include everyone in everything. they are not yet together in this fic but there's a lot of UST bc we all love UST, it's like good chocolate dont deny

song is tennis court by lorde mainly because it's such a jam and also applicable lyrics

and song in the title is ellie goulding's love me like you do:))

.

baby be the class clown, i'll be the beauty queen in tears

it's a new art form showing people how little we care

.

"Isn't the point of a holiday that I don't have to see you losers everyday?"

"Come on, it'll be fun," Marley tries, her voice cheerful and nice and gross, and she has to bite down on her tongue, hard, to keep herself from saying something snarky, like you're only saying this because you've never been able to afford a vacation. (Just an example from the top of her head.) That would be considered mean, and Kitty Wilde has turned a new leave. A boring leave.

Now, she hasn't reached the Mary Sue All Around Vanilla stage yet, because she'd like some excitement in her life, but she has definitely tried to be more considerate of other people's—gag—feelings. She's still a little kicking and screaming strawberry shortcake.

Which, she wants to remind these imbeciles, is not something you can find lying around in the woods. Who the hell wants to voluntarily go to the woods except for like, serial killers and boy scouts?

Kitty crosses her arms over her chest, as everyone starts agreeing with their very own Marley Sue and she digs her nails into her thighs to remind herself to not lash out as she takes deep breaths. It's not worth wasting her carefully constructed insults on.

"Yeah, it'll be fun, Kitty."

That little piece of absolute and utter s—

It's then she catches Ryder's eye, or more like the challenging look he's sending her. She pretends to smile sweetly before pretending to put on lipstick with her middle finger, her face blank. He muffles a laugh by pretending he's coughing and she bites down on her lip to hide her own smile. They're friends, so what?

"Look, if we never try something new, we'll never know how much fun it is and we'll have missed out on a great opportunity." There comes Finn with his daily fortune cookie wisdom. She swears that annoying Berry person texts him a saying and a word to use everyday to 'broaden his intellect'. The worst part? He actually participates.

Or, worse case scenario, he actually googles the words inspirational; sayings; coaching. Maybe he found a 'friday night lights' quotes page or something.

She sighs deeply, resting her hand on her fist as she hears a chorus of yeah's and oh that's so true's, the incest twins even doing a little handshake as if everyone isn't already grossed out enough by them.

"My best friend actually came up with this, he says they do stuff like this all the time in the air force, to strengthen the team bond and everything, you guys remember Puck? He said—"

This time her mouth is moving before her brain can stop it. "That's the creepy one who knocked up Quinn Fabray and gained a few sympathy pregnancy pounds two years after she gave birth and has a thing for birds or like, waffles or something. You know, Jake's brother from a whiter mother."

"What? It's true," she sends him an incredulous look, all eyes on her as usual, as if they will never get used to her insults. Amateurs.

"In order to get this done before this Friday, I'll split you guys up in pairs to take care of some of the stuff that needs to be done—"

"Hold up, Finnster, pair up? What's this? First grade? Are we supposed to hold hands? Are you gonna count if we all make it back from the supply store?"

"Kitty, just shut up for ten frickin' seconds," Jake growls, getting elbowed (softly because imagine that brown haired angel actually hurting someone, oh no, all hope would be lost, people would be dying everywhere, oceans would dry up completely, the sun would burn out, the world would end blah blah blah she's bored) in the ribs by Marley.

That fake female Blane 2.0, that she just knows is going to screw them over one day in the future by joining the Warblers because they offer her flashy solos and free admittance to their preppy school for future closeted senators and all-around arrogant assholes, sends her an accompanying glare and who does she really think she is?

She feigns a gasps, putting a hand over her heart, "I'm sorry, I didn't know you could hear us through that Gigantic Birdsnest on your head? I would've been more sensitive."

She feels a fight about to break out and silently smirks. Chaos. Yes. This is what she thrives on. This is what drives musicians anyway, isn't it?

"Girllllllll, you better retract those claws," Unique starts and Kitty holds up her hands in defense, raising her eyebrows. She'll shut up, it's not like she actually has to go on this stupid trip. She'll just ask her doctor to write her another doctor's note in exchange for some dating advice and her mother's number. She's not going to lose her chill over something stupid like this. She'll save it for their inevitable loss at sectionals.

"Okay," Finn concludes when he figures it's safe to speak without being harassed, looking down at his clipboard, "Uhm, Jake and Marley, obviously," they smile at eachother and it's sorta weird Finn sees them as some sort of little prodigal son and daughter, "Unique and Jane," an uncalled for high five and chorus of yay's, "Let's see, the twins," their secret creepy handshake gets used way too much in here, wasn't the choir room supposed to be a safe haven?, "Spencer and Roderick," a role of the eyes on both sides, OUCH, "and… Kitty and Ryder."

Could've been worse. What if she was forced to spend an afternoon sowing together warm clothes for Marley because she couldn't afford new ones? What if she had to spend a night testing out which weave would be able to sustain the coldest temperature with Unique? Or sort through the least gay sweaters Spencer was gonna take with him because he's dead set on not being identified as gay when he checks out every male butt in a six mile radius? Or worse—listen to one of the incest twins whine about how they miss their significant soulmate for more than five minutes. No, Ryder definitely wasn't the worst option out there.

"I have to remind you guys that even though this isn't an official school trip, there will be no alcohol allowed and of course, no boys in the girls' tents and versa vice or whatever and …"

Blah blah BLAH, Finn, you go ahead and suck all the fun out of it. Okay, maybe she does need to go, in order to save all these people she has no feelings about whatsoever from a total midweek of boredom in the frickin' woods. It's for them, not for her. Definitely not.

They can thank her later.

.

Her and Ryder get assigned to get snacks and food, which isn't half bad, she realizes because food is very important and very easily screwed with. This is going to be so much fun.

"Hi Ken," she greets Ryder as she opens the door of his truck, and he snorts, "Do you wanna go for a ride?"

She fakes a gasps, slinging her bag into his car, "Sure, Ken."

"Jump in!"

She laughs wholeheartedly as she sits down, putting her bag between her legs, "Okay, that was totally above my cheesiness quota for the rest of my life."

"Hey, at least I didn't break out into song. I contained myself," he retorts, starting the car and driving towards the nearest Walmart.

"Oh, you were honestly gonna sing the words I'm a Barbie girl in a Barbie world next?"

He deadpans, "Yeah, because it's fantastic and all, life in plastic."

"Please stop or I'm going to have to get out of this car to throw up and preferably perform an exorcism on you to rid you of the ghost of Barbie for the rest of time."

"You can take the Barbie out of the Ken, but you can't take the Ken out of—oh wow. No. I'm going to shut up."

She bursts out in laughter despite of herself (she doesn't like to laugh in public because it shows weakness and she does not want him to get the wrong idea anyway, that he's funny or that she like, likes him because that's just disgusting) as she takes out her pink lip balm and starts applying it, turning up the volume of the radio.

(He almost runs into a lamp post in the process because he can't look away from her lips, but she doesn't need to know that.)

"I love this song!" She yells over the sound and he can't help but notice he likes it much more when her hair is down, in pretty blonde waves that kind of make him go dizzy if he looks too long.

"HERE WE GO AGAIN, I KINDA WANNA BE MORE THAN FRIENDS," she sings loudly, banging her head from side to side, not even realizing she's acting this way in front of Ryder, like she would only do around like, her parents, so it's a weird feeling.

He joins in because it's a cool song, whatever, and the lyrics don't apply to their situation at all or anything, "So take it easy on me, I'm—"

"AFRAID!"

"You're never sat-is—"

"FIEEEEEEED!"

They get to the store about halfway through the Oh OHhHhH's and they make their way to the snack aisle in record time after loading on a few loaves of bread, some cheese and chicken, nutella and peanut butter for the more edgier people in life, and a few dozen bottles of water.

"Oreos!" She points excitedly, although she promised herself she would not eat more than one oreo per twelve months. Gotta take care of the abs.

"Ohhhh, twizzlers."

"M&M's!"

"I need those kitkat bars. They're like my own personalized brand of candy."

"Potato chips, potato chips, potato chips—"

"Ryder, can you reach those marshmallows for me?"

He rolls his eyes as he reaches up, revealing the tiniest bit of stomach that sends a chill through her. What the hell? Her own body is betraying her. "This is going to cost Finn a crapload of money."

"Hey, he's making us camp out in the wild. He's gonna have to pay for it someway. Either literally, like this, or I stick his finger in a glass of water for five nights and shave half of his gigantic head. This way, he won't be embarrassed. I'm only looking out for him."

"Mother Theresa in the flesh! Oh my God! Can I have your autograph?" He retorts sarcastically and she shoves him, a smile forming on her lips anyway as she steals his cap, he's wearing backwards by the way, the idiot, and puts it on her own head. He tries to steal it back, cornering her against a stack of soup when she won't give in.

"You make such a cute couple," an older lady remarks, practically giggling obviously not having heard their exchange as she smiles over her basket filled with vegetables, milk to keep her hips from breaking and probably old people vitamins.

For some reasons, she stammers and isn't able to get out any words to slay Miss Betty White. It's his fault! Look at how close he is to her face! And sure he is pretty, but he isn't a Jake, he's more cute than sexy really, so there could obviously never be any sexual spark, and why is she even thinking about this?

She can't trust herself when he's all up in her personal space.

"We're not a couple," Ryder answers for her, surprised she hadn't attacked the woman with a can of soup yet as he sends her a knowing look, one of those 'why the hell does a random old lady even care about this sort of stuff about two random teenagers in a supermarket'. "We're just friends."

She smiles in response before disappearing around the corner, probably trying to find some more people to harass and question their life choices.

She's afraid to look at him, digging her nails into her forearm as she crosses them across her chest, because he might think of her temporary lack of snark as some kind of confession of undying love.

When she looks up he's just smiling at her though, and he steals his cap back, and the look on his face kind of distracts her temporarily because he doesn't look at her like the other's do.

"...sausage?"

"Excuse me? Do I need to get my rape whistle out?"

He raises his eyebrows, taking her hand and pulling her forwards and away from the cans of soup. "Sausages, hotdogs, you know, to grill? On a barbeque? Does that ring a bell?" He talks very slowly, like she is mentally disabled or something and she fakes a laugh.

"Ha-Ha. Let's just get the dumb wieners and get the hell out of here before that lady asks us for a picture to frame and hang above her fireplace because she doesn't have anyone else beside her three cats."

She's experiencing all these feelings, about Ryder, nonetheless. She knew she shouldn't spend time with these people outside of school. It messes with your brain. Before this, she strictly kept it to a max of two lunch periods per week, sitting next to each other in glee club when possible and helping him with his dance moves in return for free algebra tutor sessions, because unlike letters, numbers were kinda his thing. Those things were strictly platonic. Look what a damn grocery trip has caused! Is she supposed to spend five to six days around him? No way, Jose. Shit, she is in so much trouble.

And the stupid camping trip hasn't even started.

Putting on her sweet voice she adds, "Speaking of pussies, that reminds me, should we buy any condoms for the twins? If they're gonna do it, I want them to at least be safe about it."

.

They arrive at an completely empty camp site in the middle of frickin' Michigan (read: nowhere anyone has any desire to be) at 12 p.m. because Finn got lost about five times, even though he was using a GPS and that annoying piece of fruit that he called a girlfriend was airquote reading airquote a map. Idiots.

It's freezing (Ryder offers his sweater to her with that cute dumb goofy smile on his face and she refuses because boundaries and hello, Jane was like right there standing next to them, giving them an already skeptical look—she has to protect her stone cold rep) and it takes at least another two hours for them to set up the tents. She shares one with Marley Sue, which is definitely better than waking up covered in weave or having to listen to any more rants on feminism or god forbid, having to listen to Madison having sex dreams about her brother.

Anyway, she doesn't care until the princess starts talking.

"Can I ask your advice on something?"

"Are you sure you want my advice?" She asks groggily, hoping that reaction will scare her off enough. Her sleeping mask reading 'Bitch is sleeping' apparently wasn't enough of a warning.

"I got back together with Jake after the whole Bree thing last year and—"

"Yep, big mistake, you should break-up. Goodnight."

"No, it's not that," she says, hesitatingly and Kitty can practically hear her fidget with her jammies. Groaning, she sits up and shoves her mask on top of her head.

Marley smiles at her nervously as she wishes she could've just listened to Unique hum Beyoncé songs in her sleep. "Then what is it?" She asks semi-softly, because it's like 2:30 a.m. and she knows Marley needs to be handled with kid gloves.

"Ever since then he doesn't even touch me at all anymore, like he's afraid I'll freak out or something, and I don't want to send out mixed signals but I miss him and I don't know how—"

She lets out a loud, giddy laugh, sitting up, this is gold, "Oh my God, are you horny? For Jake?"

She blushes furiously, hiding under ten layers of hair and a hand as she looks down, "No!"

"Hmm," Kitty tames down her blatant cackling for just a second as Marley shakes her head. "I just.."

"You are forcing a previously sexually active, and with active I mean never not not active, teenager to be celibate. It messes with a guy's head."

"It's not intentional, I just, I'm not ready and I don't want to lead him on, but I, I love him," the brunette whispers lowly and Kitty rolls her eyes. God. Here comes the sap rant.

"Look, he loves you, okay? I don't know if you guys are meant to be, or some crap, or if you're going to even survive this year, let alone college, but you're together now, and you're not the kind of girl who's with a guy just to be with him, you're in it for the long haul. If you want it to work, you have to be honest, not only to him but also to yourself. He wants to have sex, everyone knows that, but right now he's trying to respect your unusually tight boundaries. Loosen them a little. Make a compromise."

Marley nods after a few minutes, contemplating her words as she looks up at Kitty, who decides she isn't done yet. This girl needs to be schooled hard.

"And listen to his version of the story too, because last time you drove him to cheat on you and I'm not saying that was Jake's best moment but we both know it wasn't all on him, you could've prevented that if you hadn't been so keen on keeping your facebook relationship status 'virgin being courted for the next twenty years'."

Marley cracks a smile, shaking her head lightly, "How is this all just so easy for you?"

"Believe me, I have the gauge my eyes out every time we talk but I'm able to repress it after months of hard training."

"No, I mean, this. You know, the whole dating and," she flushes red (oh god, how pathetic), "sex, thing."

"Practice."

She remains quiet for a few moments, like she isn't sure if she should say what she's about to say. God, this girl.

"Ryder must—"

"Hold up, sister. Me and Ryder are not together."

"I wasn't trying to imply anything, I just—I see the way you look at each other."

"With our eyes?" Kitty retorts sarcastically and she wishes she would've just bunked with that mini Blaine because this isn't going her way at all. Also, she wishes she hadn't thrown half of that bagel away earlier because she is hungry as hell.

"You know what I mean." Marley smiles lightheartedly like what she's saying isn't the single most worst thing she's ever said. Kitty's heart is skipping thirty beats per minute by now.

"He's my friend. We have stuff in common. You know, stuff that makes people friends. Just because he has a penis and I have a vagina doesn't mean we're in doomed inevitable romcom love."

She yawns, skeptically adding, "Whatever you say, Kitty."

"No, don't you dare go to sleep thinking I'm in love with that walking proof that wrestling guys half naked kills brain cells! Marley!" She whisper shouts, hissing as the brunette's eyes droop closed, "Marley!" That fricking annoying cupcake.

This is why she doesn't need friends.

.

"Do any of you have any reception?" She holds her sparkly pink iPhone up in the air in all sort of angles (she was vertically challenged, okay) before handing it to Jake and nudging for him to try. He rolls his eyes, sighing as he holds it up for her while he simultaneously pulls a sweater over his head.

"Nope," he smirks, lowering the phone and playing with it, "Why do you need reception anyway? Scared that someone is going to figure out you're not up to date on the latest episode of The Vampire Diaries?"

"No, to Google the most convenient ways to hide an octoroonian body in the woods," she fakes a sweet smile before yanking her phone out of his hand and glaring at him. He pushes her lightly and she shoves him back as they both crack the tiniest bit of smiles. They're cool.

As if on cue, Ryder and Marley come back from their 'hike' because apparently some people like to walk for fun at 6 a.m. in the morning, laughing and spreading their innocent nice people aura around like syphillis.

She grimaces as they peck lips like an elderly couple, or like Bleh-aine kisses that feminine fairy.

"You finally up?" Ryder smiles at her, one of those big, genuine ones that makes her toe curl and she hates him for it. She looks around to see if anyone is watching because she is paranoid like that. They'll all assume like they always do, like even our very own 'glangel' (glee and angel, see, she is participating with their dumb stuff) does and she doesn't want that. She doesn't want him, FYI.

She huffs, letting out a small groan that is supposed to depict some kind of gesture in lieu of the word 'yes'. He chuckles, saying something about morning people—she doesn't really know because he's taking off his jacket and his arms look really good in that shirt.

Shaking her head to physically take her mind off it, she mumbles some excuse about trying to find reception and he doesn't follow her as she disappears into the woods.

Good. She needs a moment to cool down anyway—uhm, to herself. Not to cool down, because his arms aren't that great. Nope.

She needs distance.

.

She participates in all the stupid stuff Finn came up with to 'strengthen their team bond' but to be fair, she never promised to shut her mouth while doing it. Counting down the days mentally was a new hobby of hers. Their first day here so just two more to go after this. Amazing.

First up, the great egg drop. Frankenmillennial gives them a bunch of stuff like tape and sticks and she's pretty sure he made this up about twenty minutes ago. Like basically everything that comes out of his poophead.

Basically, they have to pretend they're third graders who are interested in physics and build an egg package that could possibly sustain an eight foot drop. So much fun, Finn.

There's a 90 percent certainty he's only doing this so he and the Jewish diva can spend some time alone in his tent, because they disappear fairly soon after with a message of good luck and not to go anywhere. Whatever. It's better than him breathing down their necks and giving over-the-top words of encouragement every five seconds.

Instead of actually helping her team—that, funniest thing ever, actually consists of all the people she could care less about (birdsnest, fat boy, gay kid and the ugly twin) while her actual friends have fun laughing and joking—she decides it's her job to make the egg looks as pretty as possible before it drops down eight feet to it's imminent and inevitable dead. Famous last look and all.

She decorates it with that carry on bedazzler she stole from Unique's tent because she doesn't go anywhere without it, and draws on a face and a mustache. Decorating gender fluid eggs because she's that hellbent on not showing her friends, especially that idiot Ryder, she's jealous of the fun they're having without her. She's going crazy.

"...and then he just slammed into the floor and mumbled on about Quinn's ass for twenty minutes because he hit his head that hard." She overhears Jake, and, well, in the process hears Ryder's laugh, loud and bold and careless and her heart twinges a little. She wishes she could look over her shoulder and see him for just a second.

This whole ignoring thing was getting kind of hard when he was her only friend she wasn't embarrassed to be seen with in public. At least not until Marley Sue implied they were the modern day Romeo and Juliet.

Ugh. Screw this.

"Okay, lets wrap this up people," she claps her hands together, before handing over the egg to Alicia Keys and nudging her to put it inside of their package that they filled with feathers they found in the woods of Steve Irwin knows what kind of diseased infected animal so she ain't touching it, opposed to the other team who glued twenty layers of leaves on top of it.

"We still have another hour," Jake comments aggravatedly, looking at his watch and she sends him a Medusa worthy glare. Since when does he actually give a fart?

"Does it look like I care? I'm hungry." She doesn't wait for them to answer as she sees a few people shrug in what she assumes is agreement (or cowardice) while he walks over to Finn's tent and zips it open, "Chop chop, we're all done."

She ignores the serious sideboob she just saw as she shudders, trying to think of puppies and rainbows. Ten minutes later and she would've walked in on fifty shades of how does that even work because she's so tiny and you're so big and i haven't seen that tent move once; practice, sorcery, a lot of pain killers?

While Finn drops their eggs on the ground from his position in a tree—like they hadn't just spent three hours building something to protect them for it to be destructed within five seconds—Ryder comes to stand next to her and throws his arm around her shoulder and for all that is friendly, her arm really shouldn't feel like it's on fire and her brain should really just be able to command her other arm to push him away. He smiles at her, and starts talking about how he's proud of how awesome her egg looks and about the technique behind their package before bombarding her with a story about how he used to build stuff in his free time when he was little.

She thinks. She's only getting like half of it. (Because his hand is rubbing over her arm, probably as some lame attempt to warm her up, and she's hyper aware of everything right now. Like how Unique is whispering something in Marley's ear and how twincest is exchanging their special physic creepy thing and the raised eyebrow and pursed lips look I'm-Not-Gay-I'm-Homosexual is sending her. This is bad.)

Finally, she is able to force something out about changing and is able to escape his grip and disappear into her tent. Where she proceeds to stay to listen to Marilyn Manson on her phone to relax and not think about whoever she is not supposed to be thinking about until Jake comes to get her for dinner.

Or more like, he throws a rock against her side of the tent and tells her to get 'her ass' over to the picnic table if she 'doesn't want to starve'. Same difference.

Half raw hot dogs from a portable grill Finn probably hasn't cleaned since he bought it. Just what she needed.

After dinner Jake, Spencer and Ryder are in charge of making a campfire because Finn like sexism so she doesn't have to worry about running into him as she takes up Yentl on a short yoga lesson with the other girls and Mason to 'become one with nature' or as she likes to call it 'thirty minutes of kamasutra to get away from a friend everyone seems to think i'm into'.

"Okay, so the next thing we're going to do is," Finn says excitedly, look down at his flashcards as Ryder fakes a drumroll, "The Highlights Game." She took the wise decision of sitting across at him from the fire, on a hard log that was really starting to hurt her perfectly sculpted butt. Camping sucked.

"Are we going to discuss hairdos now? Because then I'd think we should start with Jane, because, honey, that tragedy you call—"

Jane is about to open her mouth before Unique nudges her. Smart girl.

"Kitty," Finn cuts her off with a stern look, or at least she thinks that's what it's supposed to be. It looks more like he's about to poop his pants. "It's a game in which everyone shares a highlight of their life."

"Sounds like a huge sob fest to me," Spencer cuts in and she's glad she's found an accomplice jerk in him.

"Lets just try guys," Madison offers sweetly and Kitty's mind zones off to warm beaches and sunny cities far, far away from here as they all start whining about their perfect little lives. She feels like she's in a bad made for tv movie about friendship and adventure.

When she hears her name, she finally snaps back into reality and puts on the most sarcastic voice she can muster without actually sounding sarcastic, "The highlight of my life was joining this amazing club," she puts her hand over her chest, sniffing lightly, "absolutely tarnishing my reputation in favor of singing songs about being gay and different while being forced to spend time with a bunch of moderately talented special snowflakes."

"We love you, too, Kitty," Finn smiles one of his goofy smiles, like he thinks he's better than her or something and knows she doesn't mean shit of anything she just said. "Thanks for that beautiful...that."

When she looks away from her kind-of-teacher as he goes on to the next person, she sees Ryder is staring at her with what she can't describe as anything else but wonder in his eyes, an amused smile playing on his lips. She scoffs, folding her arms over her chest as she picks up another marshmallow (and another) and stuffs it into her mouth as she tries to remember his highlight to use against him in the future, which she doesn't remember because she was thinking about Belize and the Bahamas and Ibiza. And now she is thinking about that stupid look on his face. Who the flying frick does he even think he is?

When they start singing an impromptu acoustic version of like Bastille songs or something hipster mushy like that, she decides it's time to quietly sneak off to her tent and leave them to their big love incest antics.

"Why are you trying so hard to ignore me?" It's him. Cue a roll of the eyes.

"Excuse you?" She says, without turning around as she tries to get their tent open, but of course, the zipper is stuck. Marley and her fricking poor girl tent, she knew she should've convinced her dad to let her take their motorhome.

"You don't want to talk to me, you act all weird when I talk to you and when you see me, you look the other way. I'm pretty sure that qualifies as ignoring," he continues as he leans down to help her with the zipper, unzipping it within seconds. Oh sure, you're good at everything, rub it in. Prime quality dating material. My eggs are actually smiling. Fantastic.

He continues, eyebrows raised as he holds the insect screen back. "And it kinda sucks when you're the only friend around here I have that isn't sucking face with my other friends or a freshman that I have no clue what to say to because all I can think about when I see their faces, is braces, acne and weirdly enough, mothers' making their lunch."

"You took a hike with Marley this morning," she states as they both get up, brushing the sand off her yoga pants and looking up at him.

"She's my friend, but," he pauses, licking his bottom lips as he flushes a little, "Not like we are."

She tilts her head, sending him a confused look and studying him for a moment before she sighs, "Look Ryder, I'm not going to deny that you're hot, and I'm obviously also very hot but—"

"What?" He chuckles, a smile spreading across his face. "I meant, like, that we understand each other. On a different level." Oh, he's talking about their sexual abuse and not their undeniable sexual chemistry. How romantic.

"Forget I said that," she says quickly but it's too late. His smile widens, "You think I'm hot?"

"Just shut up," she retorts, frowning as she shoves him playfully. "Well, if it makes you feel better about you just accidentally confessing your undying love to me," she shoves him again, and his eyes light up even more, "I think you're pretty hot, too, Kitty Wilde."

She tries to deny the feeling of elephants tramping around in her stomach and the fact her heart swells to ten times it's size because she's cool, she's chill, she does not have any feelings for Ryder Lynn whatsoever.

She wants to say something snarky, but finds herself with a loss of words, so she settles on a deadly toxic glare instead, muttering another shut up before disappearing into her tent.

"Goodnight, Kitty," he teases loudly, avoiding the shoe—she throws from inside her tent aiming at his head—just in time before she hears a faint laugh and the sound of his footsteps retreating into the distance.

She falls back onto her makeshift bed with an annoyed groan. Fricking Ryder Lynn.

Couldn't he at least have given her shoe back?

.

She isn't the genius here, Mr. Hudson, but playing 'capture the flag' before 10 am isn't really doing any good to their team spirit when people are half asleep, low on sugar and cranky.

Her and Ryder (who luckily for him hasn't tried mentioning the 'I think your hot part' of their convo last night) have been looking for team Schnoz's flag for forty-five minutes now, with no luck whatsoever, and to make it even better, she trips over a thick branch and hurts her ankle.

Of course it was Finn's bright idea to spit up in pairs to look for the flag ("it's super efficient guys" 10 bucks that was Rachel's word of the day) while he guarded theirs (read: to sit on his lazy ass, read a magazine and have another try at coffee without spitting it out) and to send her with Ryder.

She's pretty sure him and his crazy little lady friend are scheming to get them together because this morning she overheard them whispering and exchanging shady looks their way as Ryder offered her half of his sandwich when she mentioned she couldn't move her arms before 8 am. Hence the continuous pairing up of Kitty Wilde and Ryder Lynn.

(Or he was afraid of the wrath he had to face if he paired her up with Augustus, or Rick or whatever Smokey the Bear's name was.)

"I love my life," she groans as Ryder helps her sit down on a log as he takes a look at her ankle.

"Ah, it's not that bad. You get to spend so much quality time with me," he says, cynically and she huffs. "New Highlight alarm. Maybe we can share this story tonight."

"It doesn't look to bad, you probably just sprained it or something," he tells her as he carefully helps her up while she continues her complaining. What can she say? Once she gets going she's like an African kid stumbling upon a pond of fresh water, she can't stop.

"Seriously? Sharing life stories around the campfire? What's next? We're gonna sing kumbaya around the campfire?"

"No, worse they were singing Lady Gaga last night when I decided it was time to get the hell away from there," he answers, wrapping his arm around her waist to help her stand as she laughs at his comment. "The horror."

"Can you put some weight on it?"

She nods as she tries, but the grimace on her face gives it away as she digs her nails into his shoulder.

He bends down, his back facing her, "Come on, let's just go back to camp." It's then she realizes he's offering her a piggyback ride.

"Seriously? What am I? Five?"

He straightens his back a little, turning slightly to take a look at her, "You don't look five." Screw you, Ryder, screw you and your dumb cute words that make her head feel funny. Screw you. Literally. She is literally thinking about it. Shit.

She considers it for a moment, deciding the agonizing pain really wouldn't be worth her pride before muttering, "Fine."

"You're welcome," he says as he helps her onto his back, supporting her weight by grabbing onto the back of her thigh as she wraps her legs around his body and her arms around his neck. He smells really good. She doesn't skip a beat, "I hate you."

When they get back to camp she makes him take out the twizzlers and they eat a bunch of them instead of making lunch for the others, like he probably would've done if she wasn't such a shit influence on him, while they play a card game.

"Is my tongue red?" She tries to asks, sticking out her tongue, but instead it comes out as a bunch of 'is ayaj ehh hhh reyeyey'. He laughs and then she does, too and they look at each other for two seconds too long, energies exchanged like some bad Nicholas Sparks movie, before they hear some noise coming from the woods.

(It's Wadenique gassing everyone to death with her anti-bug spray.)

Finally, the prodigal losers return, apparently not even noticing they had disappeared (top notch teacher work!). Their team won, at least that what she takes from the fact Finn is kissing away Rachel's pout as they both laugh and look at each other with one of those sickenly sweet and cheesy 'our love is gonna last forever' glances.

She spits out the last part of her twizzler after almost choking on it, throwing it over her shoulder. That comes dangerously close to how her and Ryder were looking at eachother not even two minutes ago. She is in so much trouble.

After lunch they play some more games, like the adjective game in which there's a bunch of pieces of paper (ironic since they're in a forest) with adjectives on them and they have to assign them to each other. She ends up with 'uninterested' and 'sarcastic' and her friend comes to boast about the fact he got 'energetic' ("they mean your ADHD"), 'agreeable' ("code for boring") and 'charming' ("honey, can you even spell that").

Then there's the secondhand story game in which they tell a story from person to person and see how it ends up—apparently Finn is training to be a kindergarten teacher—and no one can blame her for changing a few words (like, fish into frick-frack, dog into Spencer and kids into Marley's boobs).

The grand finale is the human spring which comes down to pairing up, bending elbows and pressing palms to each other as you start to lean towards the other until you are eventually holding each other up. First she wants to opt out with the excuse that her ankle hurts because she doesn't feel like recreating the Ghost pot-claying scene with Ryder in the middle of the woods, but then he looks at her like he's some sort of puppy whose ball she just stole and her ankle doesn't hurt that bad anymore, so she joins in.

She wants to ask Stubbles why she keeps ending up with Ryder when these are supposed to be team building exercises and they're friends while she hates pretty much 7/10 people in this club, but why end up being trampled by Mason because he can't stop staring at Madison when she can just suck it up for two minutes and avoid eye contact with Ryder while they basically hold hands?

Apparently, you can't avoid eye contact while air-quote building trust air-quote so that's just amazing. Her hands start to feel kind of clammy with the looks he's giving her and it isn't until Finn tells them to stop that she notices they're pretty much the only ones left next to Jane and Jake, but to be fair that girl does have man hips.

If she'd been Marley she would've kicked Jane's feet from underneath her just to see her faceplant and then force her to watch her tongue go into Jake's mouth, but that's just her. (Maybe she can add 'jealousy' to her collection of adjectives. Maybe 'crazy, possessive, obsessive, bitchy' would fit in neatly there too.)

She shakes off the warm feeling in her chest as they break apart, Ryder flicking her ponytail as a joke as Finn tells them to move one place to the right. Okay, it isn't just the exercise because she doesn't feel anything when looking into Richard's eyes. Or Spencer's. Or Jane's. Or Marley's.

Dandy.

She is having a mental breakdown over here—dropping to the ground within five seconds of pressing her palms to Unique's, because she can't take her eyes off him—and existential crisis, and he just seems.. fine. Completely at ease. Laughing and joking and smiling and goofing around with Jake.

So not only does she maybe, possibly have feelings for him (which she doesn't by the way, she must be dehydrated or suffering from some crazy wood disease), he might not even reciprocate them.

She volunteers to make dinner with Jane, inevitably agreeing to listen to her rant about the freedom that is found in not shaving your armpits. Look, she is all about equal rights for women and being able to decide what you shave and what you don't shave, but she really doesn't need know about this when they're heating up quesadillas.

After dinner, when it's already dark outside, Finn gets the bright idea to show them the lake he stumbled onto earlier while 'looking for a place to pee'. This guy.

They're about halfway there when the bracelet Jake got her and Marley's wearing catches onto some sort of branch and it falls somewhere on the ground. In the dark. In the cold, dark, midnight air, while it's drizzling and she wants to go find it. Did she mention it was dark?

Basically every heterosexual penis in their presence rushes to her aid and of course that clown Finn doesn't even notice (two times in one day, where's his teacher of the year award?) so when princess' bracelet is found by Ron and they're ready to go, they're in the middle of the woods by themselves with no clue of where to go or which direction they came from.

"Where the hell are we, mini-Finn?"

"How am I supposed to know?"

"Guys, lets just calm down and—"

"Is that a chainsaw?" Ramon says out of nowhere and before she can answer that question with no, that is the sound of the wind rustling the leaves and brushing in between the trees because she is not a total idiot, everybody runs into opposite directions and they don't stop.

Luckily, Ryder pulls her along with him because she was totally not feeling being in the woods alone. He pulls her behind a tree, pushing her against it after they stop running and shields her with his arms, pulling her close.

"Ryder," she deadpans. He shushes her, his eyes wide and frantic.

"Cheese and rice, that was just the wind!" She mumbles against his chest before looking up at him, "There's no serial killer with a chainsaw trying to murder us."

"Oh," the realization seems to dawn in on him, letting out a deep breath as he blinks a few times. She proceeds, "Although your arms are very huge and comfy and I'm sure some very unlucky girl somewhere in the world would be ecstatic to be in them, I can't breathe."

"Right," he says curtly, stepping away from her and straightening his clothes as they look at each other, their chests still heaving somewhat irregularly from running.

"I'm a hundred percent sure I can smell Gay Spencer's obnoxious body spray in this area so we must be going into the right direction," she says finally, breaking the Capital V Very Awkward Silence. She's also fairly certain she can hear Rachel Berry blabbing on about herself somewhere in the far distance, but she's not sure where it's coming from. It's full on raining now and she's so frickin' cold and she hates Marley "O. M. G. This Ugly Ass Two Dollar Bracelet From Probably A Thrift Store Means So Much To Me" Rose with a passion—

Then there's a noise, and her heart's beating in her throat because this time it isn't the wind, and before she knows it she practically jumps into his arms, ramming them both back into the tree. The one he just pushed her against and in the process made her think about very dirty things, that are now also flashing in front of her eyes, next to her life because she's pretty sure they're about to die.

He snorts, his hands on her upper arms to steady himself, "So you're not afraid of a chainsaw, but you're afraid of what's probably a squirrel?"

She sound like a crazy person probably, "It was the wind, not a chainsaw. At least animals are unpredictable. What if it has rabies? Wind doesn't give you rabies. No one ever died of a little wind."

"Ever heard of a tornado?" He answers skeptically, "A hurricane? A—"

"I get it, shut up," she lets out a deep breath before she tenses up a little, "Are you sure it was a squirrel?"

He rolls his eyes and it's dark and their faces are very close and they're wet and she thought she was going to die. "Based on the fact I saw two tiny eyes reflect the light of my flashlight before you made me drop it, yes." He squeezes her arms as a reassurance.

"Sorry for jumping you, I just panicked and I guess I forgot about the ground rule of life."

"Which is…?" It's harder to hear him with the rain pouring down on the ground and trees around them, loudly.

"WWQFD," she answers matter-of-factly, edging on when he looks at her confused, her eyes just now adjusting a little better to the dark, "You know, what would Quinn Fabray do?"

"Why do you always do that?"

"What?" She scrunches up her nose and he smiles a little, "Say her name like that."

"Like what?"

"Like there's a church choir harmonizing along with you and the gates of heaven just opened with a personal invite from God."

"Because she is iconic," she replies honestly, "An iconic McKinley alumni who, despite of the poophole we live in and the major dicks we have to put up with daily, persevered. I mean, look at her now, she's amazing."

His hands move down her arms, and continue going down until they reach her sides. "I think you're pretty amazing, too."

She swallows hard as his hand reaches a patch of exposed skin, her sweater having ridden up somewhere in between having a near death experience and pushing him into a solid object. She can feel her heart beat in her throat as she looks up at him slowly.

"Ry—" not even the first syllable, okay, so he's really not joking around, his lips on hers in record time, pulling her closer, his hands framing her face. Before she can even process what is going on, her lips are already responding and she's pushing against him like a forty-five year old desperate housewife thirsty for her toyboy—their wet clothes sticking together like glue.

She highkey wants him. And normally she'd be lowkey about it but with her and Ryder there's so much—stuff and things and feelings.

Somewhere down the line he turned them around, hoisting her up to lift some strain off both of their necks—because her 5'3 has very little on his 6'1—and now there's hands everywhere, under her shirt, in his hair, on the back of her thigh, on the bare skin of his back, everywhere.

Her heart is whispering things into her useless brain, telling her not to overthink it, telling her this is good, this is warm, this is Ryder.

Then he pulls away, kissing her once more, and then again; soft and sweet, two things she hates.

"Kitty," he breathes against her mouth, his eyes closed, brows furrowed together and his forehead against hers. She wishes she had kept her eyes closed, because looking at him, still feeling his lips on hers like they were moments before, she feels so trapped by this thing they have, by him, that she feels like crying, and if she starts crying she won't be able to stop. It's like one of those sexist commercials about women with PMS.

He lowers her to the ground slowly as her chest heaves up and down, reminding her they need to get the hell away from here and from each other. His hands are burning her cold, wet skin.

"It's okay," she blurts out, straightening her sweater and wiping her lips, as she steps away from him, "We'll just blame it on PTSD and pretend like it never happened."

She digs her nails into her palms, trying to keep her hands to herself and reminding herself this isn't them. But she misses it already. What a pathetic display this is.

He seems confused, already opening his mouth to protest but then she picks up the flashlight and waves for him to follow her and she knows he's fearless (and brave and good), but he's not that fearless so he just obeys.

They finally reach the campsite after walking in silence for what seemed like forever, in which their hands and wrists brushed and their shoulders nudged together far too many times for her to be able to look at him right now. She goes into her tent without saying anything and so does he, because this isn't a movie or a fairytale and mr. charming doesn't really like her like that, he just thought he did because she's Kitty, easy and available and disposable.

She doesn't want to cry and she didn't think she was until Marley crawled into their tent—whispering something about a spider and a chainsaw before passing out, not even bothering to change—and she reaches up to feel her cheeks are wet.

He was supposed to be her friend. Her best friend. Why did he have to ruin it?

Why did she let him?

.

Just one more day, she reminds herself the next morning as she stares at the blue material of their tent. This time next morning they'll be packing up their stuff and they'll be home in a matter of hours and she won't have to see him that much, just the required glee club hours.

Marley Sue is already gone, probably on another hike, making everyone breakfast or out saving the world, who knows. She finally musters the strength to get up and gets dressed slowly, putting on a little mascara before throwing her hair into a bun and stepping into the bright, early sunlight.

She takes her tennis shoes into her hands and walks over to a picnic table, sitting down on it to put them on as she hears Unique and Jane discussing something, probably a suggestion from Unique's side that she starts wearing a weave next to their supposed-to-be-campfire.

Further away, next to the grill, she hears that Jewish platypus 'coaching' Marley out of the 'good' of her 'heart' by belting out a long note and forcing her to listen. Kitty is afraid she might actually attract bears or wolves with her annoying high pitched screech.

"Why is she even here?" She mutters to herself bitterly, looking away from the scene and pulling a little too hard on her shoelaces.

"I don't know, she doesn't even bother remembering our names. I mean, last night I was Rick and this morning she actually called me Raider."

"Ryder," she states, rubbing her lips together as she finishes tying her shoes, looking over at him. She had hoped he'd take some distance, but she should've known he never would.

"You okay?" He asks—a light tone to his voice and she thanks God for that reason alone—sitting down next to her on the table, his hand inches away from hers.

She doesn't pass up the opportunity he's offering her, the one where they just forget what happened and don't even mention it again.

"Yeah, when I get home I might have to take a five hour shower with Dettol because of all the bugs and dirt I've come into contact with, I haven't eaten anything with actual nutrients in it for the past three days and my back hurts from sleeping on what I like to call, practically the floor, but besides that? I'm awesome."

He laughs—that throaty loud laugh he uses way too much to be considered special, but it still is to her—and she can feel his hand itch closer, their little fingers barely touching. He doesn't move his hand any closer.

They sit in silence for a second, him leaning back on his palms and her resting her elbows on her knees. Distance.

"Do you think maybe we should save Marley?"

"Nah, I think she actually enjoys whatever that troll is trying to teach her." Is it a note she's trying to reach or a selfmade rape whistle using only her voice? Who knows.

Eventually, when they have established that they're still friends, and that nothing changed, without using any words, he sits up, resting his hand on her back for a few seconds before telling her he's going to look for some firewood with Spencer and Jake. Those three are like peanut butter and jelly (and dry bread)—she'd be jealous, if she had any right to be.

She nods, as she watches him leave, the imprint of his hand still burning on her back.

(Nothing had really changed, not for her. He might think that they're still friends, and she wants to be, but everytime she sees him now, she thinks about last night and how good it felt and how she'd like to do it again and again and again. And again.

When she sees him she thinks about how he'd always been so good to her, so honest and fair, because he always made it clear he was her friend, and he had her back but he wouldn't defend her actions if they were hurting other people even though he always tried to put her actions in perspective for everyone. And now she was hurting herself, and creating a really big chance that if she continued down this road, she'd hurt him, too, and then who would be there for her then?

She thinks about how he is so much better than her, and he deserves better than her. She's just a mean cheerleader; not really breaking the mold there, if she was being honest.)

Finn doesn't really try any more team building exercises after losing his students in the woods twice in one day, and she tries to act normal around him but she thinks she doesn't really remember what normal was like.

.

Okay, secretly she likes, fine, loves Marley and she wants her to be happy and she thinks Jake is good for her and she's good for Jake and blah blah blah all the romance slash friendship stuff no one actually cares about, but what she's asking of her right now—no can do.

It's their last night which means that in less than six hours they'll be on the road right back to civilization, a world with coffee, internet and the freedom to get the hell away whenever you want from whoever you want. It's their last night that Marley decides to take her stupid advice to heart.

"Just five to ten minutes, tops, I promise," Marley whispers pleadingly, her hand clutching her sleeping bag to her chest like a child would hold a stuffed animal.

"What exactly are you going to do? Lose your virginity in a fricking ratty ass tent in the middle of Michigan at 1 a.m. in the morning?"

"Compromise," she answers steadily, shaking the blonde's shoulder lightly and adding another 'please'.

"I know Jake, I don't trust him," she groans from under her blankets, pointedly keeping her back turned to her friend.

"I do," Marley answers, her voice sad and what Kitty would imagine a puppy would sound like if it could convey it's cuteness into words. "Besides, their tent is two tents over, if I need you—"

"You need Jesus."

"Kitty, please. I want to do this now," she fidges with her pj's audibly, her voice soft but pleading, "You know how my mother is, she would never let me be alone in a room with him without her open door policy and her constant unannounced barging in. Not after what happened."

She remains silent for a long moment, hoping Marley would just give in and stop whining and go to sleep, but she doesn't. "Fine," she mutters, throwing her blanket off of her and slipping into a pair of tennis shoes as she fixes her shorts.

One leg inside, one leg being frozen to death by the cold winter air; she adds, pointing her finger accusingly, "By the way, if I get caught sneaking into a guy's tent, I'm saying you've been drugging me since we met, Bob Marley."

She practically falls into Jake and Ryder's tent, slapping him awake. "Marley is half-naked and waiting for you." Only partly true, but it does the trick.

After she pushes him out of his comforter, she snuggles into it. The entire tent smells like Ryder's shampoo, boy sweat and Jake's axe body spray. Amazing.

"Kitty," he asks sleepily, rubbing his eyes as he watches Jake finish slipping into some shoes and leaving the tent. "What the… What time is it?

"Shhh, just shut up and go back to sleep," she answers groggily, trying not to think about the fact Jake is probably fondling her friend's breasts by now. Or, knowing Marley, they're just holding hands and gazing lovingly into each others' eyes. Gag.

She opens one eye after she hears him sigh deeply multiple times, turning and tossing. Tightening her jaw, suddenly not so sleepy anymore, she barks, "Spit it out."

"We're friends," he states, coming out nowhere, bouncing up and down nervously. She opens both eyes to study him. "Right?"

Reluctantly, she sighs, sitting up as she looks up at him, biting down on her lip, "Yes. I guess." Cold hearted bitch survival tip number 384: Always add 'I guess' so you can take it back later.

"We're friends," he repeats, like he's trying it out, and she is starting to get seriously annoyed here. What's his point? "And friendship means liking stuff about each other no one else likes."

For fuck's sake, Ryder.

"Yes, fine," she hisses, drunk on sleep, and she knows she'll regret this later, "I like you. Even the parts of you you don't like. Like the fact you're hyperactive no matter what time of the day, and that you talk a lot for a guy but you can't help it. I even like the part of you that doesn't understand what's wrong with him, that wants to accept Unique, but feels weird around her even though it doesn't want to feel weird around her, but that doesn't make you a bad guy. You just don't understand. I even like the parts I don't like. You're passionate and competitive to the point it's annoying and you know that, and you don't want to feel like you're bothering everyone, but it's in you, it's who you are," she pauses, brushing imaginary dirt of her lap, "I also like that weird Bieber cut of yours, even though I like to drag it on a daily basis."

"Kitty—"

"Shut up."

"Stop telling me to shut up," he hisses, running a hand through his hair before sighing. It's quiet for a moment in his dark tent. He looks like he's about to confess a murder, "I like you even when you're a bitch to other people, even when you're a bitch to yourself although I never agree with you when you are. I like that you know you're pretty, because you're so pretty I can't believe it sometimes, but you never make a big deal out of it. I like your toes, even though I know you hate them and that's why you never wear open shoes. I like your soft, caring side, the one you hate so much you deny it exists," he smiles a little, before it fades, "but I don't like you when you pretend that I'm nothing, that what we have—is nothing. I don't like it when you shut me out and make decisions that affect me, without me."

She takes in a sharp breath as she leans back onto her palms. Softly, surprising herself, "You're my best friend, Ryder, I—I could never pretend that what we have is nothing."

"So there's something? We have something?"

"Maybe. Yes. I don't know." Tears sting in her eyes, he can't be serious. She lays back down, staring at his face in the darkness when she gives up looking at the ceiling.

It's so quiet she starts counting their breaths. She's on 62 when he starts inching closer. He reaches out to hold her hand, like he's trying it out and she lets him. Eventually she pulls on his arm, trying to pull him closer until he's next to her, staring at each other as they lay on their sides. She can feel his chest expand and contract with every breath and her own chest tightening every time she does.

"You can't ever tell anyone about this," she presses, even though she knows he'll tell everyone the first chance he gets. When Ryder gets excited, he forgets about stuff like boundaries and, like dignity.

He shrugs (because he never makes promises he can't keep), playing with her fingers like it's something he does everyday, a habit. Part of her wants to scold him or say something bitter and mean, but instead she kisses him (because she wants to be, she wants to be a habit).

"So.." He drags out the word after they pull apart and she rolls her eyes. "You're not gonna sing me a song or something, are you?"

"No." He smiles, smiles, smiles.

"Good." She closes her eyes, repressing her own.

"Are we together?"

"Why?" She peeks through her eyes, raising an eyebrow.

"I just want to know if I should delete my eHarmony profile or not."

"Why are you internet dating when we both know you don't have the best of luck with internet. Did you forget what happened the last time?"

"Is that a yes?"

Instead of admitting the obvious she connects their lips again, burying her hands in his hair as she presses her chest against his chest. He notices. She was never really one for words.

She pulls on the collar of his shirt, at the base of his neck and happily attaches her mouth to his abs when he finally gets it off. Then he flips them over, him on top as re-connects their lips, his tongue making her feel very lightheaded.

She doesn't know if Ryder's a virgin, she doesn't think so, and God unfortunately knows she isn't either, so it shouldn't be special. Especially not when they're in a nauseatingly small tent, temperature below 32 and she just kissed him to dodge the almighty life defining 'are we together' question after a friendship of a year and a half.

His fingers find her ribcage and for a second she thinks he's going to reach higher, and build even more tension between her thighs, but then he starts tickling her. Yes, he starts tickling her. Tickling. This fricking—

"Say it," he demands, a cute smirk on his face as she tries to push him off, tears forming in her eyes from laughing.

"R-Ryd-Ryder!" She hiccups and he repeats himself, amused, "Say it."

"Y-Yes, fin-fine," she forces out and he finally stops, smiling satisfiedly as he leans down to kiss her neck, one forearm keeping him from squeezing her and his other hand trailing down her stomach, causing goosebumps all over her body.

"Just don't try and turn us in some sort of golden—golden couple, okay? I know I'm like the—oh, head cheerleader, and you're the—the quarterback but—oh God—we're not, not going to be a, a cliché, ok—okay?"

"Sure," he mutters casually against her collarbone, before kissing further down her chest and her eyes roll into the back of her head. His effect on her didn't used to be this big.

Finally she reaches down to pull her own flimsy t-shirt over her head and as she finishes, a nervous huff passes his lips. She reaches behind her to unclip her bra, smirking in satisfaction as she watches him, having him right where she wants him. He looks at her, eyes huge and excited and she nods, fumbling hands stumbling their way to her bra to cup her breast gently.

Suddenly the tent is magically unzipping out of nowhere, and she gasps, pulling Ryder on top of her as watches Jake head pop inside.

"Dude, you won't believe what just happ—Oh!"

"Get out!" They both say at the same time and Jake holds up his hands in defense, an amused smirk mocking her until her dying days, backing out of the tent.

"Be safe," she hears him add smugly, making her blood boil. Ryder laughs against her mouth as she aims a shoe at where she thinks Jake's voice is coming from, it doesn't take long until she's laughing too. That is until he cups her face, brushing her hair from her face in the process and giving her one of his looks. The kind of look that makes her toes tingle and the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and her stomach swirl. That look.

Like she said, they're screwed up and new at this and this is like a life altering, huge moment that's going to change their lives forever and it shouldn't be special. But the thing is—it is special. It feels special. Maybe it is better with feelings, real ones.

The next morning when they're all tired (especially Jake, who, out of revenge, she didn't wake up from his sleeping place at the picnic table at six a.m. when she absolutely had to go back to her own tent. He deserves a stiff neck) and in need of real showers and food, she finds herself not caring.

She doesn't care when Ryder kisses her good morning when she's in the middle of eating a sandwhich for the whole world to see like they're an old married couple who don't care they have food in their mouth when they kiss; she doesn't care when Spencer comments on her shirt being way too big for her posture with his annoying, stupid Gay voice (she liked him better when he only made fun of the people she made fun of); she doesn't care when Ryder tries to hold her hand in the bus; she doesn't care when he insists on bring her home after she realizes she never thought she could miss Ohio this much; she doesn't care when they start working out together in matching outfits like they're the incest twins (but his shoulders look so good she can't pass up any opportunity to gawk at them in public and he helps her reach the extra mile every time and she helps him by sitting on his back and reading Vogue while he does push-ups); doesn't care when he brings her hot chocolate every morning or when he sings her stupid love songs to her in glee club. It's all cheesy stuff, but, she might love it. Might.

It's good.

She also doesn't care why Finn was so hellbound on sharing his date night with the Schnoz with a bunch of teenagers in an abandoned forest in frickin' Michigan but it was kind of fun.

Kind of.

But do not tell anyone she said that, she will cut a bitch.

.

(a/n: HOPE YOU ENJOyED! ! ! pls review bc im probably only gonna get three reviews max since i think everyone forgot ryder existed! i love glee bye)