The best part about continuing a story is that I get to reread myself. And cringe on occasion. Ah well.


Having finished the five chapters with more than half of the class left, Rachel closed her copy of the book and stared at the cover. The mystery of the paper finding its way into her book still bothered her and she found herself glaring at the cover unconsciously.

She huffed. She had never been a fan of not being in 'the know.' It was as if someone was messing with her, but they were certainly being a bit too nice if they were trying to hurt her. Maybe this first note was to get her hopes up and the second one would dash them.

She wanted to know what this was: was it a joke or was it serious? She wanted that second note now and, as she stared at the book cover, an idea hit her. She turned the book so that the binding faced the ceiling and the edges of the pages faced down. Flapping the pages by brushing her thumb over them, she hoped in vain for another note to fall out.

When none did, she sighed. She should have figured it wouldn't be that easy. Maybe if she asked whoever had passed out the books…

She froze in thought. Who had passed out the books?

She looked around to those she recognized in the room. Noah was in the corner throwing paper airplanes at Mike and Mike was swatting the air assault down with the swing of his own novel. She smiled lightly at their antics but moved on, knowing the teacher would've never asked either of them. Well, not Noah anyway. Maybe Mike. But she couldn't picture Mike as having anything to do with the note.

Then again, he had asked her to homecoming last year…

But they were just really good friends now and she was pretty sure Mike had a thing for Tina anyway.

Moving on again, she quickly passed over the group of Cheerios and realized that she didn't really talk to anyone else in the class besides Noah and Mike. Well, there was Santana, but the Latina wasn't really her friend per se. It was more like the Cheerio only tolerated her because of Quinn. Not that she was rude to Rachel, but she definitely kept her distance.

The girl in question was sitting with the rest of the Cheerios, but she wasn't saying a thing. She was just spinning her finger over her book and looked absolutely bored.

Rachel bit her lip. Maybe whoever had placed the note had just gotten lucky and had placed it there before class. But she couldn't believe that seeing as it was too much of a risk.

The bell rang and Rachel jumped, completely unaware that she had spent over half the class thinking about her, well, she guessed she could call it her secret admirer. The name made her feel self-conscious, though, as if she thought she was worth such a thing. And it wasn't that she didn't think she was, she was just…

Old habits died hard, she guessed.


Nothing else happened in the rest of her classes, and Rachel was eventually able to put the whole ordeal in the back of her mind. In fact, by the time she headed over to Glee, she had almost completely forgotten about it.

It wasn't until she saw Quinn sitting in her usual seat that Rachel was reminded about the note. The wash of guilt wiped away any beginnings of a smile she had aimed at her friend and she kept her head down as she sat next to the blonde.

If Quinn had noticed, she didn't acknowledge Rachel's odd behavior.

"So, anything new with the note?" she heard whispered in her ear. The singer jumped a little bit for the second time that day, not expecting Quinn to have leaned in so close.

She swallowed and looked to her right. "Still in the dark," she replied, managing a small smile she knew wouldn't reach her eyes.

Quinn shrugged. "Maybe it was a mistake or something. Want me to ask around?"

"No!" Rachel half-yelled. Her eyes widened as she felt surprised at her own reaction. She wasn't exactly sure why she didn't want Quinn involved. Part of her was embarrassed, but part of her also liked the fact that someone was going out of their way to do…whatever it was they were doing.

She was also afraid it was all a prank and didn't want to get excited over nothing.

"No, but thanks," she reaffirmed, getting a handle over her emotions. "That won't be necessary, Quinn. I'm sure someone was just trying to get a laugh or something."

The blonde raised her eyebrow and Rachel knew that Quinn didn't completely trust what Rachel was saying, but she didn't verbally question it either. Rachel just smiled genuinely this time and turned to the front of the room as their teacher walked in.

"Okay, guys," Mr. Shuester started. "This week's theme is going to be…"

Rachel relaxed in her chair, happy to zone out the rest of the world in favor of music.


After Glee let out, Rachel headed to her car with a smile planted firmly on her face. Mr. Shuester had assigned partners to sing songs about the weather—a point to which she wasn't too happy about, but her appeal had been shot down. Shockingly. What had her happy was having Noah as a partner for the first time that year. It didn't happen often that they were paired but, when it did, they sounded amazing.

She really couldn't blame Mr. Shue for not pairing them more often, however, as Jesse was a more than adequate lead. In fact, Rachel could admit that he was likely her male equivalent. It didn't help that he was a senior, however.

Then again, that just meant more duets with Noah, so Rachel couldn't be too broken up about it.

It was a well-known fact that Rachel and Noah had been friends since childhood, though he would never admit aloud the details of their friendship. They'd also had a brief more-than-friendship fling last year, but it had only lasted a week and they both agreed being friends was more important. Not that it stopped him from trying to hook up with her at parties.

Quinn, on the other hand, proved a pretty decent buzzkill for Noah's feisty moods. The boy had spent forever trying to get the blonde to give him a chance, but time and time again she turned him down.

Speaking of the blonde, Rachel felt bad for her friend. Quinn had been assigned Tina as a partner and, while they both had rather nice voices, they were both so quiet and soft. Quinn was the type of singer who worked well with someone with a more prominent voice. Not unlike Rachel herself, actually.

But the brunette was sure that, whatever song they chose, Quinn would be as amazing as ever. And Tina, too, but Tina wasn't her best friend so she wasn't mandated to be her number one fan.

As she buckled her seatbelt, she noticed that the sun was awkwardly angled to hit her right in the face. She squinted and reached up to pull down the visor, eyes immediately relieved in the shade.

Now that she could see again, she didn't miss the light glinting off of something that seemed to have fallen from her visor. She couldn't recall having placed anything in that particular part of her car, so she was confused when she looked down to her lap and saw a familiar piece of paper.

She almost didn't want to read it, but she knew there was no possible way she could actually avoid doing so. Curiosity killed the cat and yada yada.

The piece of paper was approximately the same size as the previous one, so she picked it up and took a breath before flipping it over.

#2 Her eyes.


Rachel was lying on her bed as she thought the day over. She had counted the stars on her ceiling more times than she could say, but that didn't stop her from doing it over and over again.

She thought about the original piece of paper that was in the envelope and then the two cut-out pieces of paper she'd received since then. The original paper was clearly computer paper as the words had been typed on a computer. The cut-outs, though, the cut-outs were cut from lined paper and were handwritten. Rachel wondered if that meant anything. Why type the one and write the others?

Frustrated, she rubbed her hands over her face. Her fathers would be home any minute and Noah was due to come over in a few hours, so she didn't have time to think about these things. Yet, it was almost impossible not to.

Someone out there had written those notes and Rachel wanted to know who. As of that morning, it could have been anyone. Anyone could have taped the envelope to her locker, just as anyone could have hidden the paper in her book. The car part was what stuck to her.

After reading the note, she had been slightly creeped out that someone had been in her car. Fearing some horror movie moment, she quickly checked her backseat and trunk, only to find nothing out of place. She wished she had locked the doors that morning, but she had been distracted by the sky. She wondered if whoever wrote the notes would've been able to get in regardless, of if he had just been lucky.

The most disconcerting thing was that the notes really could have been anyone. They were not anything specific about her personality. Anyone walking down the hallways could notice her smile and her eyes. Not that Rachel genuinely believed someone had written the notes about her. Not yet.

It wasn't that she thought she was unattractive, not really. Noah and Quinn had made sure of that much once they'd both solidified their friendship. It was just hard to feel like she was desirable sometimes, especially when her two best friends were easily the most attractive people she had ever met in her entire life. And then Quinn was on the Cheerios so most of her other friends were relatively attractive as well.

So why her? What was so special about her that had someone doing something so…elaborate?

Quinn certainly hadn't ever had anything similar done for her, and Rachel thought the blonde was much more deserving of the attention. Then again, her friend was quick to tear people down with her gaze alone, so maybe no one tried out of fear.

Or maybe it really was a joke.

But what if it was serious and someone really was in love with her? Ugh, the suspense was killing her.

"Rachel!" She heard her dad call from downstairs. She sighed, deciding to be honest with her father. She wouldn't be able to function if she kept it a secret from everyone.


"So, some boy is leaving notes around school for you to find?" Her father looked at her skeptically from across the table. He sipped from his cup of hot cider as he watched his daughter shift in her seat.

"Yes, I suppose so." She looked down to fingernails and suddenly noticed that her cuticles could use a good pushing back. "I've only received three so far, so I can't say that they are solely to be found on the school premises." She neglected to mention that she'd found the latest one in her car—there was no need to worry her father unnecessarily.

Her dad rubbed his chin and hummed. He looked thoughtful for a moment before smiling. "Well, if he ever shows himself, I'd like to meet him."

"Me, too." Rachel placed her chin on her arms, which were folded over the tabletop.

Her father laughed, standing up to ruffle his daughter's hair.

"Be impressed, kiddo. Not many boys have the maturity to show their feelings in such a manner at this age." He paused. "Or any age for that matter."

"I know, Dad," she muttered, pouting as she heard her dad greet her daddy in the hallway.

"Hey, Hir, you'll never guess what Rachel just told me."


It took her less than eleven seconds—she timed herself—to run to the front door to let Noah inside.

"Noah," she greeted with a smile, arm still hanging onto the door.

"Fellow Jew." He smiled back and lifted her into a hug. "How're the Berry's Mister?"

She stopped her eyes from rolling mid-hug. His greeting hadn't changed in over five years and she doubted it ever would.

"They're as good as ever, Noah. And yourself?" It was more of a ritual for them than formality.

"Better now that I'm here with you." He smirked, giving her a wink as he let her down gently. She giggled, as she always did, before telling him it was time to get down to business. His following innuendo was not unexpected.


"Rachel, we are not singing "It's Raining Men."

"But—"

"No buts, unless it's yours and I get to cop a feel."

"But—"

"No."

"Fine." She really thought the Rachel Berry pout would work.


It didn't take them long to settle on a song. Well, not once Rachel finally gave up on The Weather Girls, anyway.

It was fortunate that Noah had been her friend for years, because her taste in music had been pretty narrow before he insisted that she'd need a broad range if she ever wanted to make it in an industry revolving around all types of music.

Okay, so he'd worded it a little differently, but the point got across.

"Here Comes the Sun" by the Beatles suited their voices quite nicely and—after an hour and a half of fine-tuning—Rachel was placated.

They were talking about the upcoming game this week when Rachel considered confiding in her friend about the notes. She watched as Noah's features lit up as he went on about how he was pretty sure they were going to win again, which meant they were in good standing for play-offs.

"Noah," she interrupted his tirade about how he hoped the cheerleaders would give him a little something special if he scored the winning touchdown.

He looked up, noticing the distracted look in her eyes. Placing his guitar down, as he had been perfecting the tune throughout their conversation, he gave her his full attention. "Yeah, babe?"

She felt the corner of her lip lift at the term that, used on anyone else, would mean he was trying to flirt. "Do you think I'm…" she trailed off, not sure how to phrase her question. Noah wasn't one for heart to hearts, usually. He didn't really like talking about feelings. But, for her, she knew he usually made exceptions.

"As a teenage boy similar to most of your peers, do you think I'm worth dating?"

He blinked, clearly confused. "What do you mean?"

"I mean…" she trailed off again, suddenly self-conscious. She knew Noah wouldn't lie to her, but she was also unsure if she wanted to know the answer to her question. "If we weren't friends and I was just another girl to you, would you chase after me like you do every other girl? Or would I be off-limits because I'm Rachel Berry?"

Puck's forehead scrunched as his confusion doubled. "Well, that depends on what you mean by being 'Rachel Berry,'" he answered. "If you mean incredibly talented and, well, caring and stuff, then I guess I'd feel like a dick for chasing you when you're clearly the kind of girl with standards."

"That's not what I meant," she sighed. She knew this would be difficult. "I mean Rachel Berry, the annoying girl with the big mouth. The one who was bullied all throughout freshman year and whose best friend is singlehandedly the most popular girl in school."

"Well." He gave her a look. "If I noticed you had a big mouth, it wouldn't be because I was fantasizing about you talking with it." He waggled his eyebrows.

"Noah!" She smacked his arm. "You know what I meant."

"Rach, if we weren't friends I'd have won you over years ago," he laughed. "You know my mom has a soft spot for you." He watched as the smile that had blossomed faded away. "What's this about, really?"

She looked away from him and bit her lip. Her insecurities were getting the best of her again and she felt like she needed some reassurance that she wasn't losing it. "I received an anonymous letter today upon entering the school and it's affecting me more than I care to admit."

Her friend's features darkened as he took in her words. "What kind of note?" he questioned.

"Oh!" She took note of the change in his demeanor. "Nothing bad, technically. It was just a… well, take a look for yourself."

She pulled her bookbag over and grabbed all three notes from the front pocket. She handed them over and watched Puck's face as surprise took over.

"Someone's writing you love notes." He framed it as a question, yet his tone made it more of a statement.

Rachel wrung her hands together. "I…yes."

"And you think they're fake because you don't think anyone could find you attractive?"

She made no movement at first, but her mohawked friend refused to look away from her. Nodding mutely, she watched as he sighed.

"Rachel, I'm only gonna say this once because I don't do this type of shit. But you're hot, okay? Totally tapable and, if I were that kind of guy, datable. I don't know any guys who would do something like this, but I doubt it's a joke. Me and Quinn made it pretty clear that messing with you is messing with us."

"Quinn and I," she corrected automatically, playing with her smile.

"Oh, hush up, short stuff," he groaned as he wrapped his arms around her and mussed up her hair. There really was nothing like a Rachel Berry screech.

"Noah!"