A/N: Thanks for the awesome reviews so far! Your feedback is great. Without further ado, I present Chapter 3: Attraction:

Rachel

Although I consider myself a staunch feminist, above subscribing to the foolish idea perpetuated by Hollywood that my knight in shining armor will serenade me and sweep me off my feet, I couldn't deny the fact that Finn Hudson was incredibly attractive. Of course, I'm not so shallow as to delude myself that I'm in love with Finn because he looks good. There are many, many more facets to a healthy relationship than just appearances, such as shared interests and astrological compatibility. Yet... every time I see him at Glee rehearsals or in Sex Ed., I can't help but experience mild heart palpitations when he walks by or gives a lazy smile.

As I take notes on Sister Hannigan's lecture on abstinence – her third nearly identical lecture, I might add, she could clearly wax poetic on the subject for hours on end – I can't help but peek over my shoulder where Finn sits in the back row. He's usually doing something unproductive, like drawing inappropriate sketches of Sister Hannigan with Puck or dozing off. No matter how gorgeous a guy's eyes are, I can't date someone who doesn't take his education seriously. According to a checklist I wrote last July while at theater camp, my future boyfriend must:

Hold at least a 3.75 GPA on a 4.0 scale and be a member of the National Honor Society.

Take personal hygiene very seriously, including but not limited to: showering daily, moisturizing twice a day, brushing his teeth after each meal, washing his hands at least five times a day, and wearing acceptably scented deodorant and cologne.

Have a competent understanding of nutrition and eat well. If he can't take care of himself, how could I ever trust him with our future children?

Of course, these are just the first three items on the list. Finn does not fit a single one of these requirements. I may or may not have looked up his schedule in the school directory and he is not taking a single honors or AP class. Judging from how seriously he takes Sex Ed., I doubt his GPA is anything above abysmal. At Glee last week, Kurt told me that Finn didn't know the difference between a facial cleanser and a facial moisturizer and – prepare yourself, I was shocked, too – didn't use either one. In the cafeteria yesterday, I made sure to walk by Finn's lunch table twice to ensure that he would notice me. Not only did he not look up from his conversation with Puck, but he was eating a cheeseburger from the school's kitchen. I doubt he even knows that our school cooks with trans fats. His understanding of even basic nutritional concepts is completely lacking; perhaps he doesn't even know what trans fat is.

I may think Finn is cute. I may think he has the most stunning eyes I've ever seen. I may even admire his vocal skills in Glee, although he has no sense of rhythm and can't dance. But I cannot – will not – like Finn Hudson. He's not gold star worthy.

Finn

I can't focus on Sex Ed. today. The whole thing is kind of creepy – a sixty-year-old, virgin nun preaching about the joys of abstinence. The more I think about it, the more uncomfortable it gets. So I just tune it out. It's not like any of this information will be useful to me. I'm basically forced into abstinence by Quinn, anyways. Even after she told me she loved me, she wasn't willing to go any further past the "under the shirt, over the bra" line.

We did make out in her hot tub one time, but that didn't go exactly the way I planned. She was just too much for me. She had a tiny pink bikini on and gave me a small smile as she stepped into the hot tub with me. Each boob was covered with a small pink triangle. I couldn't stop staring at them. They're round, tan, perky... and that night in the hot tub, they were pressed against my bare chest. She was sitting in my lap, legs wrapped around my waist. And the way she kissed – it was intense, man. Like she couldn't stop herself. She just sat in her hot tub, straddling me in that tiny bikini, making out like it was her damn job. I couldn't quite handle myself. It was a close call – I had to push Quinn off of me and think about the mailman. So even if it's not quite fair – I get to occasionally slip a hand up Quinn's Cheerio top while Puck bangs, like, eight girls a week – I figure I can practice staying in control of myself while Quinn works on losing the good Christian act. She can't seriously want to keep her virginity until marriage, right? She's religious – not insane.


Quinn

Sex Ed. Ugh. There are still twenty minutes left in class, but I can't handle the thought of listening to Sister Hannigan for another second. When Sister Hannigan comes by to check my homework, I ask for the nurse's pass and claim to have a pounding headache. She lets me go, and I head towards the nurse's office. I walk slowly down the hall, savoring my freedom from that awful class.

I walk into the nurse's office. Nurse Jansen greets me with a smile.

"Hi, Quinn. How can I help you?" she asks.

"I..." I can't make eye contact. I've known her since I broke my arm on the playground in Kindergarten. I suddenly feel small. Scared. "My friend needs help. She's pregnant."

Nurse Jansen's eyes narrow slightly. "Is she sure?"

I nod. "She told me she's taken three pregnancy tests and they're all positive."

"Do her parents know?"

"No," I say, a lump forming in my throat. "My friend doesn't want to tell them. They would be so, so angry."

"I see." Nurse Jansen leans forward on her elbows. "Quinn, you're a great kid. I'm sure your friend appreciates you coming in here and asking for help."

I swallow, nod, blink. I don't like the way Nurse Jansen's eyes roam over my face. She looks disappointed, sad.

Nurse Jansen continues. "Your friend has three choices – abortion, adoption, or to keep the baby. Each option has its pros and cons and she needs to think carefully about her decision." She stands up and reaches towards the assortment of pamphlets on the wall. Each is printed on brightly colored paper, with titles like, "Addiction: You CAN get help!" and "The Skinny on Eating Disorders." She grabs a sky blue pamphlet with "What to Expect When You're Expecting" splashed across the front in bold letters.

"Your friend might want to look this over," she says, offering the pamphlet.

I grab the pamphlet and blink down at it. The capital E of "Expecting" blurs and swims before my eyes. Furiously, I wipe away the tear, but not before it rolls off my cheek and lands on the pamphlet. We both stare at the small, wet spot for a split-second. The bell rings, signaling the end of the period. I turn slowly towards the door and walk away.

"Thanks for your help, Nurse Jansen. My friend will appreciate it," I say in a small voice.

"Any time, Quinn," she says with a sad smile. "Any time."

Puck

You'd think that I'd be able to get over Quinn Fabray. Thanks to my pool business, I've gotten laid twice since last Saturday and today is only Wednesday. I normally dig older chicks, but Linda and Susan just weren't as hot this week as they usually are. I'd find myself comparing them to Quinn at the weirdest moments. Like, in the middle of banging Susan on Monday afternoon, I couldn't stop thinking about how Quinn is absolutely goddamn beautiful. She has these ice blue eyes that make it so hard to look away and the softest lips I've ever seen. I mean, Susan's pretty smoking, but she's had one too many Botox shots. She makes this unintentionally hilarious face where she tries to raise one eyebrow and pucker up her lips like she's such a porn star or something, but her face gets stuck. She can't move it. It's the funniest damn thing. And Linda – I've never noticed until yesterday, but she has a flabby stomach, probably from getting knocked up three times and never losing the baby weight. I mean, I can't stick my dick up where babies have lived. It's so effed up. That's what I like about Quinn. Nothing about her is effed up at all – she's so clean and untouched. It's kind of thrilling being a girl's first. You know she'll never forget. (I mean, not that a girl could ever forget me. I'm Puck – I'm practically a legend.)

I can't even think straight anymore. I'm lusting after Quinn Fabray. I've never wanted a girl the way I want Quinn. Normally, all I need to do is snap my fingers and they fall all over me. With Quinn, it's different. She's been avoiding me since we fucked at Santana's party and it's driving me out of my fucking mind. I get hard just thinking about her, thinking about all the things I want to do to her. God, she looks incredible today. She's still wearing that tantalizingly short skirt.

I just need to get a grip. Quinn is off limits, period. She's Finn's girl. Finn's girl, I repeat to myself sternly. I look over at Finn. He's off in his own world, staring straight ahead at some weird girl who always sits in the front row and takes, like, ten pages of notes every class. He's got Quinn and he doesn't even realize how lucky he is.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Reviews are always welcome. :)