She woke up the next morning with the worst headache of her life. Her mouth felt dry like something had crawled in and died and when she tried to move the entire world spun.

And then she noticed the hand on her waist, the warm body pressing against her from behind. She fought to remember what had happened the night before, but everything was a bit fuzzy. She remembered taking shots with Noah and talking to Noah and dancing with Noah and…oh god, that, with Noah.

She doesn't remember what time they went to sleep or who fell asleep first, but she does remember everything else and wow, Noah Puckerman was as good as everyone was always saying he was. She suspected she would have a very difficult time walking for a few days.

He made a soft noise in his sleep and pulled her closer to him. She was hit with momentary panic. This was Noah. He had been with Quinn and Santana and countless other women. And now her. And she knew without a doubt that she was nowhere near as good as the others and she had no desire to hear him tell her that. She gently lifted his hand from her hip and slowly moved away from him. Her stomach rolled when she sat up and she knew without a doubt she'd be throwing up very soon, but her first task was getting the hell out of this room without waking him up.

She spotted her dress on the floor and slipped it over her head, not bothering to zip it all the way up. She crept out of the room, praying he didn't wake up. Her classmates were passed out all over the floor downstairs and she tiptoed past them, not noticing that one was awake and watching her. She grabbed her purse from the counter in the kitchen and made a mad dash toward her car, not even bothering to search for her shoes.

Puck knew before he even opened his eyes that he was going to have a killer hangover. His head ached, his mouth was dry, his entire body hurt. He opened his eyes gradually, praying the headache would hold off until he got some aspirin in him.

He was in a bedroom, alone. But the bed next to him was warm and he was pretty sure he hadn't slept here alone. He remembered brief flashes of the night before. Doing shots with Berry and the boys in the kitchen. Watching Brittany and Santana dance. Grinding on a hot little brunette in a sexy blue dress. Nothing about the sex, though he was sure he'd had some. His body had that nice relaxed feeling to it. He sat up, cringing at the pain that sliced through his head. The room was empty but the door was open and he was pretty sure someone had snuck out this morning, especially with the bed beside him still warm.

He climbed out of bed, put his clothes on and headed downstairs. Some people were still passed out on the floor but most of them were in various stages of waking up. He saw Quinn and Brittany in the kitchen. Quinn was making coffee and Brittany looked…about as bad as he felt.

"Morning," she grumbled, resting her head on the table.

He grunted back at her.

"Where did you end up last night?" Quinn asked.

"Bedroom upstairs," he grunted again. "Wash the sheets," he told Brittany. She just groaned again, covering her head with her arms.

"Who were you with?"

He shook his head. "Don't really remember. I had way more to drink than I fucking wanted to. It's all Berry's fault."

"Yeah, you guys were pretty trashed," Quinn said.

"Her too, huh? Where did she end up?"

"You don't remember her being drunk?"

"Fuck, no. I don't remember shit. Just a few things, but not much."

"You drank that much?"

"I have no idea," he admitted. "I had a few when I got here and then I was drinking with Berry and the guys and that's all I got. It's those fucking girly drinks, those stupid Kamikazes."

Brittany lifted her head from the counter. "You drank the Kamikazes?"

"Well, yeah, you said they weren't that strong so I figured it'd be ok for Berry to have a few. She's not much of a drinker."

Brittany groaned. "Puck, I didn't say they weren't that strong, I said they were too strong. That's why I hid them in the fridge. I didn't want anyone drinking them and throwing up all over the house."

"Christ, no wonder I feel like shit," he moaned.

"I wonder how Rachel is," Brittany mused, laying her head back down and closing her eyes.

"Did she stay here last night?" he asked Quinn. "I wonder how she got home."

"I think she got home ok," was all Quinn said.

He was about to respond when a few members of the hockey team filed into the kitchen to tell Britt goodbye and by the time they'd left his head hurt so bad he forgot what they were even talking about.

Rachel had been miserable all weekend. She'd had to pull the car over three times on the way home to throw up and, while she really wanted a shower, she was too weak to do anything but crawl into bed when she got home. She lounged around all weekend, feeling wretched and dreading going to school Monday, knowing someone would probably say something to her about her behavior.

As it turned out, no one did, expect Quinn and Noah. He was waiting at her locker Monday morning when she got there.

"Hey," he said, moving aside so she could enter her combination.

"Hey."

"Some party huh?"

"Yeah."

"Listen, I'm sorry," he said.

She looked up at him. "For what?"

He looked away, semi embarrassed. "I, uh…looks like I hooked up with some girl at the party and I feel like I should apologize to you. Did you get home ok?"

She looked at him with wide eyes.

"Berry? Are you ok? You got home ok, right? No one gave you a hard time or anything?"

She was still stunned that he didn't remember. He had no idea that he slept with her that night.

"Uh, yeah," she said, turning back to her locker, heart racing. "I got home fine."

"Ok. Cause I'd feel like a real jackass getting you drunk and then leaving you with some random guy while I was screwing around."

"It's fine, Noah," she said stiffly.

"Ok. Well, I think Santana's having a party soon, you should definitely go. Catch you later, Berry."

She leaned her forehead against her locker as he walked away. She didn't know what was worse, him remembering sleeping with her and her not being up to par, or his not remembering her at all.

Quinn cornered her in an empty girl's bathroom during lunch that afternoon. "You slept with Puck!"

"Keep your voice down," Rachel hissed.

"You slept with him!"

"Yeah, well, I was drunk."

Quinn smirked. "Yes, you definitely were."

Rachel cringed. "Don't remind me."

Quinn perched herself on one of the sinks. "So?"

Rachel looked at her. "So what?"

Quinn grinned. "Did he rock your world?"

"Quinn!"

The former Cheerio shrugged. "Hey, been there, done that, remember?"

Rachel wrinkled her nose. "Yes. And ew."

Quinn laughed again. "Seriously. But you two were hot last night. The dancing, the groping-"

"Stop!" Rachel held her hand up to silence the girl. "Let's just pretend that whole thing didn't happen."

"Why?"

"Because it didn't."

"But he said he had sex."

"Yeah, but did he say with who?"

Quinn frowned. "You guys didn't have sex?"

Rachel blushed. "Yes, but he doesn't remember it."

Quinn's jaw dropped. "Are you kidding me? I thought he was just being a smartass when he told me that!"

"Nope, he came up to me this morning and said he was sorry for ditching me to hook up and he hoped no one messed with me. Basically."

"Rachel, I'm sorry."

The starlet shrugged. "It's better this way. I'm so mortified and I really don't want to be another one of Noah Puckerman's conquests. Now I can just forget it ever happened."

And she had forgotten. Until she had that positive pregnancy test in her hand. Of course she would be one of those girls that got pregnant the first time they had sex. Yet another thing she and Quinn had in common now. She probably should have expected it with her luck, she wasn't on the pill and condoms are only 98% effective. If they even used one, which she can't remember and since he was so drunk he doesn't even remember it was her underneath him, she doubted he remembered the condom either.

She sat on her bed, the test in her lap, not quite knowing what to do. She could tell him, of course, that would be the responsible thing to do, as she had reminded Quinn after her baby reveal came out last year. Of course, everything was different now that it was her. She got it now. Check.

Puck had actually been pretty decent to her recently, talking to her in the hallways, sitting with the group and including her in glee club practice. He had mellowed way out since his slushie and dumpster throwing days and he got along with almost everyone now. She knew how hurt had been when Quinn had told everyone her baby was Finn's, and how he had struggled over the adoption, even though he agreed it was ultimately the right thing to do. She could tell him and it might be ok.

But then she was reminded that he didn't even remember sleeping with her and might not even believe her. Why should he? She could be any girl who made a mistake with any guy and went to the guy she knew would do the right thing, as he had tried to with Quinn. No, Noah Puckerman had no reason to believe she was carrying his child.

And her dads…they were going to be so disappointed. She hadn't told them about the party, obviously, or about the sex. She had tried really hard to forget about it, but when she'd heard two girls complaining in gym class about cramps, she realized she didn't have any. And when she'd looked at the calendar and realized she was almost two weeks late, she panicked. And the pregnancy test she'd driven 50 miles to buy, lest someone she knew see her and spread it all over town, said positive and she was freaking out.

She wasn't showing yet, not even close, judging by when Quinn had started showing, but summer was coming and she knew her baby bump would definitely be visible with her summer clothes and, even worse, when school started back up in August. She had seen Quinn, the looks and stares and whispers she attracted, walking down the hall, stomach protruding. And the bigger she got, the more attention she got. Rachel was pretty sure she couldn't handle that, especially if Noah was going to be one of those people talking and whispering, wondering what happened and with who.

Abortion was out of the question. Not a viable option. While she was firmly pro choice in her view on the subject, she knew in her heart that was not a choice she could ever make. She immediately rejected the idea of keeping the baby. She had secretly supported Quinn's adoption choice all along, no high school girl was really capable of providing a baby with a good home and a good life, not really. She knew already without even really thinking about it that adoption was going to be her choice also.

What she didn't know was how she was going to tell her fathers. Deal with school. The pressures and the whispers and rearranging the dancing in New Directions to accommodate a girl who couldn't move around much. Damn Noah and his potent sperm!

The tears welled in her eyes as she fought the feeling of desperation. She needed to focus. Reaching for a tissue, her eyes caught a piece of paper on her desk. It was to the New York Academy for the Performing Arts. They had accepted her for a summer program, she'd gotten the letter only yesterday. One more thing she'd have to give up.

She wiped her eyes and glanced at the paper again. Maybe…She shook her head, wiping the idea from her mind. She'd never pull it off.

But maybe…

It was an eight week program, most of the summer. She'd be showing by the end of it but maybe...she could go. Or kind of go. Head to New York under the pretense of attending the academy and stay there. She could make up some excuse when it was time to come back, she'd figure that out when she came to it. It could work, if she really went all the way with it. She was a born actress, after all, and she could cry on demand if she had to. Her fathers had been so excited about her acceptance, there was no way they'd hold her back from an opportunity like this. Maybe…