If anyone asked me why I joined the Jazz Band, I'd say, "Because I love music."

But if my best friend asked me, I'd be honest and say, "Because I love Quinn Fabray."

Okay, sure, she's had her ups and downs and done a few questionable things, but isn't that what high school's all about? I can't find fault with the way she handled it, either (pink hair is hot). Plus, she's looking back-to-normal again, and what's the best result of all this drama?

She's single.

And I have been there through it all, waiting in the wings while she moved from Finn to Puck to Sam, and then back to Finn. Then she tried to get back with Puck. Mostly I just played stuff. And drooled a little bit.

Which is exactly how I find myself now, right before Sectionals, figuring out the bass line to "ABC" while trying to keep myself from tackling the prodigal son, Sam-freakin'-Evans (way to go, Finn and Rachel). He's back, with his lips and his hair and his six-pack abs, the former Ken to Quinn's beautiful, brainy Barbie.

"Sorry, man," my friend, Drew, says, patting me on the back as I watch Quinn ogle Male Lisa Rinna. I never thought I'd find myself wishing for a gigantic mouth, but if it would help tear her away from that guy, I'd let Puckerman test out his tennis ball theory on me. But alas, I have a normal-sized kisser, the round stomach of a chubby nine-year-old, and a face that will probably look perpetually sixteen.

*le sigh*

Of course, even with Evans and his stripper bod, New Directions is still a few members short, and everyone's brainstorming ways to fill space.

"Are the any kids who sing at Mass?" Rory asks.

Quinn sighs, and even from across the room, I feel a little warm. "That would be us," she answers.

"Any Cheerios?"

"Troubletones."

"Drama Club?"

"Troubletones."

"Dance Team?"

"And...Troubletones," Puck finishes. "Got any more bright ideas, Irish?"

"Lay off Rory," Finn scolds, patting the new guy on the back. Poor kid was just trying to help.

I go back to playing. All this drama makes me wonder why I stay. Quinn wanders around the room, humming a tune (is that "Hot for Teacher"?) to herself.

Oh, right.

I make a few changes to my sheet music so Quinn won't notice me staring. Not that that's ever been a problem before. I tune out every noise in the Choir Room and get through the bridge of "ABC." I only tune back in to whats going on around me when I hear Drew say this: "I'll do it."

Everyone turns to stare at him. "What?" Tina asks.

"Who even is he?" someone else mutters.

"I'll do it," Drew says again. "I'll join New Directions temporarily and fill space."

What? Drew, sing and dance? The guy went through middle school without speaking to more than five people. What could possibly possess him to join Glee Club, attention capital of Ohio?

And then a miracle happens. Quinn Fabray speaks to me. "What about you?"

What about you? What about you? Brittany's pink fluffy unicorns dancing in clover patches of sugar, spice, and cathartic chick flick kisses in the rain – WHAT ABOUT YOU?

Let me join New Directions, Quinn Fabray. Your blonde hair and red lips are the inspiration for my bass line. I will back you up as you sing about control, even though I will have none when I take you in my arms after the performance and kiss you with all the power of a thousand suns! Your angelic voice will keep me in tune, and though I cannot dance, my two left feet will twist and turn in order to be in time with you.

"Sure, why not?"