She took a deep breath, preparing herself for her own possible destruction before looking at the stupid plastic stick that held her fate. Maybe this whole thing would blow over, maybe she'd made a huge deal out of nothing and everything would go straight back to normal. Maybe she could put this insanity behind her, get back on track for Broadway. Maybe her and Finn could stay together after all and become the perfect soul mates. Maybe Quinn would stop looking at her with that terrible, condescending pity and Santana would start picking on her again instead of giving her some space. Maybe this could all be resolved and she could leave Noah Puckerman and the night she made the biggest mistake of her life in the dust. But that's the funny thing about mistakes; they always seem to come back to bite you in the butt even if you try your very hardest, pray your very hardest, and dream your very hardest that they disappear.
As she sat on the edge of her bathtub waiting for the timer she'd set on her cell to go off announcing that she could be handed her destiny from a stupid piece of pharmacy plastic, she thought back to the night that ruined everything. She'd been at a party, which was quite out of character for her, however Britney had insisted that Lord Tubbington had requested she be invited and she knew how rude it would be to pass up the first form of social acceptance to ever be handed to her. Finn hadn't been able to join her. They'd been swamped with homework lately and on top of football and glee he'd been having a difficult time keeping up. She'd been disappointed but she knew he was being responsible and doing the right thing. Unfortunately, she'd had all her assignments finished ages ago and couldn't truthfully use the same excuse. Knowing the embarrassment of showing up to the party solo and spending the entire night in a lonely corner was out of the question, she'd decided to put in a call to one of the few Glee members that could actually stand to be around her.
Just as she'd though, Puck was of course going to Britney's. He'd announced that, "it's not a party until the Puckerone shows up!" to which she rolled her eyes and asked if he'd mind picking her up. After he got over the shock of her actually attending a social gathering, he'd enthusiastically agreed, quoting it as, "a chance to get Berry thoroughly fucked up!" He'd also grilled her on why her "boytoy" wasn't escorting her. Obviously she'd explained in full detail that she and Finn were still very much in love and just because he couldn't join her didn't mean that Noah got to take advantage of her solitude. It was then his turn to roll his eyes and say, "Sheesh Berry, chill out. There's gonna be tons of hot chicks who want a piece of Puckasaurus. I'll pick you up at nine."
That night had been the best and worst time of her life. Either through Puck or Britney, Santana had found out that she'd be attending and had inflicted a mandatory makeover stating that, "there is no way Man Hands is getting into the same party as me dressed as both the world's tallest toddler and shortest grandma." She'd been terrified at first, but after much bickering and threatening, Santana had done an amazing job. She'd walked out of the bathroom self-consciously, but as soon as Santana and Britney's jaws hit the floor her confidence sky rocketed. They'd outfitted her in a pair of black short shorts and an adorable blue lacy tank top. After adding waves to her hair and letting Britney do her makeup, she looked like an entirely different girl. "Damn Berry," Santana had whistled, "Good luck even getting to the party tonight. When Puck sees you wearing that he's going to pull you straight back to this house and ravage you senseless."
"Santana!" she'd cried, an embarrassing blush creeping up her neck and face. "Finn and I are very much in love and I am hardly Noah's type. Thank you for the compliment and for letting me borrow these beautiful clothes, but I really do have some history homework that I must finish before tonight." With that Santana and Britney had left after they'd made her promise she'd reapply her stupid mascara before she came.
Much to her displeasure, Santana had been quite right about Noah's reaction. After saying good bye to her fathers and promising to drink responsibly and be careful, she'd left her house and walked down the driveway to Noah's truck. By the time she'd opened the door and began to climb in he'd realized exactly how attractive she looked and was turning on the charm. Suddenly he was behind her helping her into the seat and closing the door for her. "Here let me help you with that," he purred as he leaned over her to fasten her seatbelt, not even attempting to hide the fact that he was ogling her chest.
"Thanks but no thanks, Noah. I'm perfectly able to do up my own seatbelt. And please keep your eyes on the road. I'd rather not die tonight."
"I hope you know how to drive a stick shift Berry," he'd replied seductively, "because someone's going to have to take the wheel while I help you out of those clothes."
"Noah! If you insist on being inappropriate I'm going to have to ask you to pull over and let me out right this instant because I am in a loving relationship and I do not enjoy the fact that you are trying to get me to be one of your little sluts!"
"Jesus, Berry," he'd exclaimed, "Take a compliment." She'd huffed at his supposed compliment and turned to look out the window for the rest of the drive. As soon as they'd reached Britney's house she'd quickly thanked him for the ride and hurried inside, attempting to put as much distance between them as possible. Unfortunately that hadn't lasted long…
The beeping of the alarm on her phone jostled her from her memories and reminded her that her fate awaited her. She took another deep breath as she reached out for the test. She breathed out heavily as her eyes filled with tears. Her life was over.