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I've never loved Valentine's Day. It always felt forced and awkward, like you had to hang out with your boyfriend for social purposes even if you didn't want to. If that was one of my biggest concerns at the time than I had really nothing to complain about. I could have been dealing with far bigger issues than whether or not I wanted to have a free dinner and get chocolates.

The elephant in the room was getting larger and larger and pretty soon it was unavoidable. It was only a matter of time before Rachel was able to find a suitable opening to throw the issue out there.

"So, what are you and Sam doing for Valentine's Day?" Rachel asked me from her spot on the carpet. She was working on a presentation for French and needed the floor space.

"Don't," I warned her lightly.

I could tell that it had been on the tip of her tongue numerous times. Each and every time I'd somehow find a way to change the subject before she could question my plans for the D-day. I was too busy working on my math problems on top of her bed to see that she had her contemplative look on.

"I'm just making conversation," she replied, trying all too hard to sound less curious than she really was.

I was also dying to know what Finn had planned for her but I bit my tongue whenever the question was threatening to roll out of my mouth. We didn't need the complexity. It was already too much that we'd been spending more time with each other than our actual boyfriends, ditching them the second a better offer came along, and that was just about every time Rachel would text me. We had a system and it kind of worked. It was simple, we just didn't bring up the boys.

I never expected to find myself jealous over the silly little things. The sight of them singing a duet together boiled my blood, seeing his arm around her in the hallway made me turn and walk the other way, and even his dumb goofy smirk made me cringe because Rachel was making him look like that. How did I go from being his girl, to being jealous of Rachel, to being jealous of Finn? It didn't make sense on any level.

I constantly worried if Rachel was feeling the same way when she'd see me and Sam act in a similar manner. It was actually on my mind more than I cared to admit. Was she jealous too? Did I even have a reason to be jealous? The indecisiveness surrounding us was exhausting. I'd love to have firm answers, I just wasn't ready for the rejection I would feel if things didn't go my way.

Because the truth was, I liked Rachel. I liked her a lot. I liked her so much that I would rather just be her friend than put myself out there only to be shot down. As infuriating as Santana was, she made some valid points. Rachel was never going to leave Finn, no matter how unhappy she was in their relationship. Finn provided her with security and protection that I couldn't always offer her.

"Then let's talk about the weather," I told her from my laying position before going back to my text book. I'd been reading the same problem for maybe twenty minutes. I was retaining none of it.

"It's raining," she deadpanned, "I just wanted to see if Sam had anything special planned, that's all," she shrugged.

She had this way about her to make her seem so innocent, that would make me feel guilty for being the way I was, even if she was the one breaking our silent agreement.

"Fine," I huffed and closed my text book as if it was killing me that my studying was being interrupted, "Sam is taking me out for a nice romantic evening, dinner and a movie."

"You don't sound too particularly thrilled about it."

I wasn't. I hated Valentine's Day. It may have been a real holiday but it still felt overrated. It was predictable and borderline boring. I wanted some kind of spontaneity not forced romanticism. I wanted to receive flowers from someone because it was a nice gesture, I wanted a teddy bear that was won at a carnival after the person blew $20 trying to win it for me, I wanted chocolates and secret love letters just because. To me, the best dates were ones that were unplanned, they were the random nights that turned into something special, something more.

I sighed, "Rachel, don't do this."

"I'm not sure what you believe I'm doing, Quinn. I'm simply making—"

"Making conversation, I get it. I don't want to talk about it."

"Why?" she asked, once again too innocent for the tone of this conversation.

Couldn't she see that it was killing me inside?

"Because I really don't care about the predictably boring date Finn has planned for you."

Her face scrunched up into a scowl and she straightened her shoulders, "I wasn't going to tell you anyway."

She sounded entirely ridiculous, like a toddler that was talking back to their teacher when they didn't get their way.

"Why not?"

Okay, so I shouldn't have fed into her childish behavior but why wouldn't she want to tell me after I'd just told her?

"You don't deserve to know," She replied with a hmphh.

"And why's that?"

"Because," she paused and her eyes met mine, "Because you're being a Quinch," She told me decidedly.

"What the hell is a Quinch?"

"It's a cross between Quinn and Grinch, I'm not going to tell you what Finn has planned because you're being sour about the entire holiday. Valentine's Day is magical and filled with such potential Quinn, anything can happen on Valentine's day."

"Valentine's Day sucks, Rachel." I understood that I was being a little harsh, but the sooner she realized it, the better off she was, "It's all about hollow gestures and doing something because society expects it of you."

I knew that at the time because I saw my parents do the same thing for fifteen years.

"Well excuse me for being excited!"

"Excited? Please. What could possibly be exciting about a cramped restaurant and a pound of chocolate?"

I'm sure Lauren Zizes probably found excitement in such a holiday but not me.

"Maybe because this is the first Valentine's Day I get to spend with my boyfriend, or any boyfriend for that matter."

I recoiled for a few reasons. I'd completely forgotten that entire aspect. I knew that it shouldn't have bothered me that she was excited to spend the day with her boyfriend, but it did regardless. And it also bothered me that she only used the word boyfriend. Instead, I focused on the main point of her statement; this was her first Valentine's Day, period. My heart went out to her poor disillusioned soul.

But I couldn't let her get her hopes up. I'd had a Valentine's Day with Finn once upon a time, and it was nothing special.

"Let me guess, he'll pick you up at 6 and you'll have to wait for at least an hour because he's going to forget to make reservations at Breadstix—I'm sure he'll use a coupon—you'll split a dessert and then he'll tell you that he has a surprise for you. He'll take you to a park, or someplace with absolutely no meaning to your relationship, where he'll serenade you with a song that probably isn't entirely appropriate."

Rachel huffed again and crossed her arms, her project entirely forgotten on the floor in front of her.

"And you think that Sam is going to treat you any better?" she challenged.

She had a point.

"See? This is why I didn't want to bring them up."

"Well, why not? They're our boyfriends, Quinn."

We'd been doing a good job of avoiding the entire situation between us, and I didn't understand why we couldn't just continue avoiding it.

"You don't need to remind me," I grumbled.

"If you think your life is so bad than why are you even dating him?"

"Because I love him."

It was such a horrendous attempt at a lie and we both knew it. Even I couldn't convince myself anymore. How my mother did it for so many years, I'll never know.

"We both know that you're a horrible liar."

But the fact that she could see right through me and my boyfriend had no idea made me angry. Rachel shouldn't have been the one to know everything about me, she shouldn't have been the one I called when I had good news, or when I was having a bad day. Sure we were friends, but I should have at least been telling my boyfriend some of those things.

"You don't know the first thing about me," I fumed.

She recoiled a bit, obviously figuring out that she hit a nerve. Surprise, surprise…Rachel Berry once again knowing how affected I was about something.

"Maybe you're right," she replied softly, "but I know more about you than Sam does."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Instead of backing down at my sneer, she only gained more confidence. Maybe it was the reaction she'd been hoping to get out of me, for me to press the issue so that she could get what she wanted out of it.

"I think it's pretty clear what it's supposed to mean," she got off the carpet and loomed over the bed, "You may think that I'm stupid for being excited about a holiday that I've never gotten the chance to celebrate before but I think you're pretty stupid to go on a date with someone that you don't care about."

"I care about him."

"Okay," she replied lightly.

She knew exactly what she was doing. Rachel Berry has always been a skilled artist with words and tones.

"Don't do that!"

"Do what?" she shrugged.

"That! Act indifferent, like what you're saying isn't affecting me. Like you're being completely innocent and not telling me that I'm a horrible person."

"I never said that," she replied easily.

She may not have outright said that I was a horrible person, but she had me thinking it, I knew she was thinking it too, "You're thinking it."

"Well, you are the one that kissed me on New Years," she pointed out unnecessarily.

Sometimes I wondered if she planned things like this, as if we were just playing a huge game of Chess. Her strategies were bulletproof and infuriating.

"I was doing you a favor," I argued back weakly. It was all I had.

"I don't recall asking you for any favors."

She was doing it to get a rise out of me and I wasn't going to sit around and wait for her to win, "Fine."

I grabbed my school bag from the edge of the bed and began throwing my text book and notebooks in it, not caring that I was bending pages.

"Where are you going?"

I ignored her until everything I had with me was back in its place and then stepped down from her bed, "I think I need to leave, this friendship was a stupid idea."

I don't know why I said it, I did think that the friendship was a bad idea because I didn't know how much longer I could take it being just a friendship, but she was supposed to react. She was supposed to scream at me, or at least tell me to take it back. Even crying would suit me temporarily.

She shrugged again and turned to tend to something else, "If that's how you feel."

I threw the bag back down on the bed, "It's not how I feel! And it's driving me crazy that you don't feel the same way!"

She turned back around and peered up at me, "I don't feel that this friendship was a stupid idea."

She was unbelievable and I should have been out of that bedroom the second she opened her mouth to talk about Valentine's Day. Why hadn't I just left? Was I that desperate to make Rachel realize everything? Why did I put myself through such torture? Would I rather fight with Rachel than be apart from her?

"That's not what I was referring to."

She chuckled softly to herself, "Then what were you referring to?"

She was challenging me again, her eyes were penetrating me and I almost didn't feel the need to tell her what I was referring to because it felt like she was already in my mind and reading my thoughts. How could she claim to know when I was lying but unable to realize how I felt about her?

We stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. Silently praying that the other one would break.

"Forget it," I finally told her and grabbed my bag off the bed once again.

I began walking for the door and I almost got there but Rachel finally decided to react.

"When it comes down to it, Quinn, you're just as scared of being alone as I am," she said to my back, to her credit it made me turn around to give her my undivided attention, "No one is forcing you to go out with Sam tomorrow night just like no one is forcing me to go out with Finn. But unlike you, I'm not scared to admit that I would jump at the chance if there was a better offer. You keep avoiding the subject and hiding behind your distaste for the holiday but I think that if you spent it with someone you actually wanted to spend it with, you'd find that your opinion would entirely change."

Her words were hitting me like bricks, she was absolutely right and it was killing me that I still couldn't act.

"You're right," she continued once my silence was evident, "I didn't bring this up just to start a conversation, I brought it up so that you would get your head out of your ass and ask me on an actual date."

I felt like a literal fish out of water, my mouth opening and closing as if words would come out without having to make the effort to actually speak them. It was out there, the encouragement that I've been waiting for was finally there for the taking. The indecision I'd been fighting with for the past two months, maybe longer, was finally giving me a decision. Why couldn't I act?

I was still making excuses.

"You're dating Finn and I'm dating Sam, that's not going to change. What we have works because—"

"What we have works because we walk on eggshells around each other. We avoid everything that we're both feeling, we hold hands when no one is looking and refuse to talk about what it means. You think I don't know why you throw a silent hissy fit every once in a while? Tell me why you ditch Sam every time I tell Finn I can't hang out because I have a family game night…No, you know what? Tell me why I even lie to Finn in the first place."

I finally had what I was craving and now that it was within reach, I was too chicken to do something about it. Truth is, I never expected to ever have that conversation with Rachel anyway.

"I like hanging out with you—"

"Oh, save your bullshit excuses, Quinn."

I was panicking at what it all meant. It was easy when I had a cover because it meant I didn't have to be the person that I knew deep down I was.

"I'm not that person. I can't be that person."

Whether I was trying to convince myself or Rachel, I don't think either worked.

"You were the one that kissed me!" she argued, "Your eyes were on me all night, Quinn!"

I knew those decisions would come back to haunt me, and it was only a matter of time before she'd bring the kiss up again. She should have known that it was pretty much all I thought about.

"It was a mistake, Rachel. I felt bad for you because Finn treats you like shit."

"Leave."

Her demand threw me, "What?"

"Get out of my house."

"You're kicking me out?"

"You were on your way out anyway," she answered with a cross of her arms.

"Why are you kicking me out?"

"Because I can't talk to you when you're being this stubborn."

"How am I being stubborn? I don't even understand why you're getting mad at me, or why we're having this conversation in the first place. You're still going to go on your date tomorrow night, you're still going to sing with him in glee, you're still going to wear that dumb necklace,and he'll always be your first choice."

Her jaw dropped momentarily and the hurt on her face made my skin crawl, "If you think that then you're not who I thought you were."

"Wait, I didn't mean that," I tried, running a hand over tired eyes, this was going so bad.

Rachel spoke up before I could offer an explanation, "He may not be the best boyfriend, or entirely there all the time, but he's trying again."

I couldn't prevent the scoff from leaving my mouth, "The only reason he's trying is because he probably feels threatened by me."

It was entirely self-centered of me.

"He does feel threatened by you."

I laughed and rolled my eyes, "Oh, did he tell you that?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. He has brought it up multiple times. He's not being the least bit childish about it and he's been nothing but honest with me."

I laughed harder and it was incredibly belittling, "Honest? You've got to be kidding me. He slept with Santana and lied to you about it for months," I reminded her.

"And you had a child with his best friend, everyone makes mistakes."

The thought of Beth ignited something within me, "That had nothing to do with you."

"And my relationship with Finn now has nothing to do with you," she stated, "If there's nothing else you'd like to say to me then I think it's best you leave now, Quinn."

I thought about telling her how sorry I was, how childish I was being, and how I didn't mean the hurtful things I had said. For a second, I thought I saw her hoping that I'd do just that, but I couldn't. I was too stubborn and immature to let her win, to give her what she wanted. What we both wanted. I adjusted the strap on my bag and held my chin up, I could break down when I wasn't under her disappointed gaze.

I ignored the quiver of Rachel's lower lip, "I hope you have a really nice time on your date."

I know Rachel winced as the door shut behind me because even I flinched at the force I used. Both Berry men were sitting in the den near the front door, one father perched at his desk while the other sat quietly in one of the chairs.

"Everything all right, Quinn?" Rachel's father, Michael, asked as he peered up from the book he was reading.

I wouldn't dare alarm the Berry men that everything was absolutely not all right; I wouldn't want to worry them. I also wouldn't want them to look poorly on me, I wouldn't want them to see how selfish I actually was.

I faked a smile as I made my way to the door, "Yup, I've just got to get home. I'll see you later."

I didn't wait to see if they'd call out to me, and I didn't really want to stick around to learn that Rachel wasn't going to come after me. I just wanted to get to my car and get out of there. It took me at least another hour to get home, and when I did eventually walk through the door, my mother smiled at me, asked me if I had a nice time, and turned her attention back to the reality dating show she was watching. It was normal and it was what she did every Sunday night. I normally went up to my room, got ready for the following day, and texted Rachel to see if anything had changed since I'd left her house.

That night, however, I turned my phone off and fell onto the couch next to my mother. Her acceptance of me joining her came in the form of passing me the heart shaped box of Russell Stovers, and handing me one of the couch pillows to snuggle with. It was oddly comforting to know that I could count on my mother in the most bizarre of times and she was dependable enough to not ask questions.

The next day at school, Rachel and I avoided each other. Not one text message was received, and my battery was nearly dead by the end of the day from checking my phone so much. Not one Facebook message received during study hall, not one inspirational note in my locker, and not one Valentine's Day eCard in my mailbox. Her eyes never looked in my direction once, I was invisible to her.

I'm not sure when, but it was sometime between watching how desperate the women were on the television show, having Rachel ignore me, and hearing Finn sing some stupid song from Hairspray—honestly, how conceited could he be that he'd think Ladies' Choice was a suitable song to sing to his girlfriend on Valentine's Day—that I realized my fight with Rachel was over nothing.

I missed her. I missed her so much. Too much to be considered normal.

Why should I hold back from something I wanted? I never had before, and I wouldn't start then. The only problem was that Rachel seriously wasn't talking to me.

I stared at the clock on my wall as the seconds ticked into minutes, until the hour Sam was supposed to pick me up arrived. It took me a little longer to work up the courage to call him, I had twenty minutes to spare and he wasn't too happy but he understood. No one could foresee Judy falling down outside her office and twisting her ankle, landing me in the waiting area of the emergency room all day while I waited to take my mother home. I really never expected him to fall for it either, but I digress.

I was out of my house before I could think about what I was about to do, my mother waving effortlessly from her spot on the couch, nuzzled up with a nice bottle of wine, some fine chocolates, and a DVR filled with unwatched talk show episodes. She was set and I had begging to do.

I could hear the doorbell chime throughout the house as I stood on the front porch, I had no idea what I was doing there but I needed to do something. I needed to apologize, plead for forgiveness, but most of all, I needed Rachel.

"Is Rachel here?" I rushed out once the door was opened, I hadn't even been able to see which parent it was.

"I'm sorry Quinn, she's out," Mr. Berry took in my surely frantic breathing and disheveled appearance, and who knows, maybe he felt bad for me, "You're welcomed to come in and wait for her," he gestured.

I swallowed some air as I attempted to regulate my breathing, and took a step through the threshold of their home.

"Thank you."

He eyed me curiously, probably wondering why I wasn't out carrying on with my own Valentine's Day plans. That's where his daughter was, after all. The thought made my stomach turn violently.

Come to think of it, why weren't the men out?

"Can I ask you something?" I asked unnecessarily as I sat on one of the couches.

"Of course."

"Why aren't you out tonight?"

He chuckled to himself and ran a hand through his brown hair before scratching his neck.

"I'm in the dog house."

My eyes doubled in size, "You are in the dog house?"

"Believe it or not, yes."

I played with the bottom of my jacket nervously, "Can I ask why?"

He leaned back into the couch and put his arm over the back of it, "My husband's desk was the only one that didn't have flowers or chocolate on it."

I nodded thoughtfully before coming to an obvious conclusion, "You forgot to send him something?"

"I didn't think I needed to make a big display. I'm not exactly a big fan of this holiday."

That time I nodded understandingly, "Tell me about it, I hate this day."

His amused grin lit his eyes, "You're a little young to feel that strongly, don't you think?"

I shrugged, "At least I'm not setting myself up for disappointment in the long run."

"That's one way to look at it," he mused, "There isn't someone you want to spend it with, though?"

"There is, but I guess the expectations were too great."

"I see," he nodded, "I don't think you need to be scared of things like that, you're young and you learn from experience," He added thoughtfully.

Rachel got her way of words from that man and her stubbornness from her other father.

"So why didn't you send him flowers if you knew it would upset him?" I finally asked.

He sighed, maybe not realizing that was a question he should have asked himself sooner, "I know that I love him, and I know that he loves me," he paused, "I guess I forget that sometimes it's okay to show the world."

"Were you embarrassed?"

He chuckled softly, "Never," he ran a hand through his hair again, "I just didn't realize that it was that big of a deal to him, I should have known better."

"I think it just means that he wants everyone else to know that he has a guy like you to go home to," I told him, earning me a hearty laugh and he even seemed to blush a bit.

"I'm assuming that you're here because you've learned that lesson recently?"

"Something like that."

He patted his thighs and stood up from the couch, "Well, you're more than welcomed to stay as long as you'd like."

"Where are you going?"

He smiled, "To spend Valentine's Day with my husband."

"You know where he is?" I called out to him.

He laughed as he shouldered on his black pea coat, "Of course, I've known him for twenty years."

I smiled warmly at the man and he gave me a wide grin and a thumbs up.

"Wish me luck."

"I don't think you'll need it," I replied, he definitely didn't need any luck.

"I don't think you'll need it either," he winked.

I wanted to question him but he was out the front door before the words could leave my lips. I heaved a sigh and stood from the couch in order to trek up the stairs to Rachel's room. It was a walk I'd made numerous times, but I took my time getting up to her room. A strange weight surrounded me as I opened the door and saw her French assignment still in the same place as it was the night before, probably untouched since then.

Her laptop was opened on her desk and the screen saver was on, my fingers delicately moved across the sensitive touchpad and I expected to find a Microsoft Word Document opened with a checklist of the perfect Valentine's Day for her and Finn. It was so her. Instead, I found that her internet browser was opened to my Facebook profile. It made me feel guilty and all kinds of things were happening inside my body. I couldn't describe it, just like I couldn't describe my attraction to her on New Years.

I walked around her room before lying on her bed and staring up at the ceiling. It was peaceful being the only one in her home, it gave me a chance to appreciate her room and all the times we'd spent in it the past two months or so. I honestly had it in my mind that the night before would have been the last time I was welcomed back in her room, and I wasn't really sure what she'd say when she found me waiting there for her when she got back from her date.

What if Finn was with her? What if she wanted to get back at me and decided to invite Finn up to her bedroom? That was entirely selfish, if she wanted to have sex with Finn Hudson then it would be because she wanted to, not because she was trying to make me jealous. It would make me jealous but that wasn't the point. I was there to apologize, not to get in the way of her and Finn.

God, what if he did come up? How would I explain myself?

I leaped off the bed and began making my way towards the door, already nervous that I would get caught red handed in her home without her permission. What was I thinking when I decided to come here?

My phone vibrated in my coat pocket and my heart nearly dropped into my stomach when I saw the caller idea.

Rachel.

She knew. She found out that I was in her room and she was calling to yell at me. I looked around the room frantically, I wouldn't have put it past her to have hidden cameras all over the place. I could just ignore the call and continue on with leaving, maybe she'd find it in her heart to ignore it and we'd go on with our lives. But a tiny part of me wanted to know why she was calling, needed to know what she had to say. I really just needed to hear her voice. With another deep breath, I answered the call.

"Hello?"

"Oh, I thought I would have gotten your voicemail. Hang up and I'll just call back so I can leave a message," she spoke.

"No, Rach—"

"It's quite alright, Quinn. I didn't mean to disrupt your date with Sam. I'll just speak with you tomorrow."

I panicked, "Wait!"

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry," I breathed out.

"For what?" she pressed.

"Everything," It was too general but I was honestly sorry for everything, "Being a brat yesterday, ignoring you today, just…everything."

There was silence between us and I was afraid that she'd already hung up, not accepting my apology.

"Did it take a lot for you to do that?" she finally asked lightly.

The sigh of relief I let out was huge, "More than you know."

"Your voice does have a bit of an edge to it," she mused.

I probably could have laughed to let her know that she was right but I needed her to understand so many things. I turned away from her door and began to walk back towards her bed, I needed to lie down.

"I was wrong, you know so much about me."

"I know I do," she replied.

Words were popping into my head and I couldn't seem to find my Fabray Filter that tended to keep my feelings hidden.

"And it wasn't a mistake. The kiss, it wasn't a mistake, I wanted to kiss you."

"I could tell."

"And you were right, I'm scared of being alone."

She sighed, "That wasn't necessarily fair of me, I think everyone's scared of being alone."

Everyone should be afraid of being alone, it's terrifying but it was no excuse. I turned onto my side and stared at her night stand, reaching over to pick up a picture of her and her dads from the summer.

"I'm scared that you're too good for me and soon you're going to realize it," I confessed further.

"Now you're not necessarily being fair, I'm not like that," she argued.

I studied the picture and found myself smiling; the laughter in her brown eyes, the sun-kissed skin that looked so warm, and the smile too bright to be fully appreciated just one dimensional.

Before I could tell myself not to, I blurted it out, "I like you, Rachel."

"I like you too," came almost immediately, "even when you're being a Quinch."

I laughed, the insulting nickname was almost comforting now, "You deserve flowers, and chocolates, and mix tapes, and someone to serenade you with a butchered version of your favorite love song," I told her, holding the picture to my chest as I turned to look back at the ceiling.

She cut in, "I doubt you'd butcher it."

I continued, "But you don't just deserve them on Valentine's Day, you deserve them every day. And Finn can give you that."

The words were breaking my heart. I knew they were true, we both knew they were true. Finn could give her everything. I could give her headaches and the occasional sentimental moment when we were alone.

"Finn isn't the one that I want those things from, not anymore."

I wanted to believe her so badly, her words were so easy to latch onto for dear life, but things didn't always play out the way we wanted them to. I knew that, I would have been a fool to think that just because someone said something, meant it was true.

"But you should, that's who you should want to be with," my voice cracked in a moment of raw emotion, I wasn't expecting to get so choked up when I gave away something I never had.

She paused for a moment, "Why do you want me to be with someone that yesterday you said didn't deserve me?"

It was a fair question, I didn't think that Finn deserved Rachel, but I also didn't think I deserved Rachel either. At least Finn could offer her some kind of security in high school, he seemed adamant on not messing up the third time around. God, three times he'd had her and I was still telling her to stay with him.

"Because I'm terrified that I'm going to mess it up."

I'd be stupid to not believe that. Insecure or not, my family was never the best with relationships or emotions. My parents were separated, my sister was in a loveless marriage, and I was moving in on someone else's girl. And the fact that the girl of it all was the least of my worries.

"Technically there is nothing to mess up yet."

I gave the picture I was holding one more glance before I put it next to me on the bed, "Would you like there to be something?"

I shouldn't have been giving myself hope, I should have gotten out before I got in over my head but Rachel was enticing and something new. She was something I'd never experienced before. And we both knew damn well that if she wanted me to, I'd selfishly take her and never give her up.

"I'd like at least another blindsiding and passionate kiss from you."

My face was rushed with heat and I thanked the high heavens that Rachel was not in the same room as me, "And then?"

She chuckled, "We'll see how well you can kiss when you're sober."

Rachel's confession of what she wanted gave me sudden confidence.

"I like holding your hand and sharing blankets with you."

"And I like that you get upset when you don't get to do those things."

"Why would you like that?" I asked.

"Because it means that I'm not the only one who wants it."

I sighed out, my defenses were weakening quickly and she could tell, "I'm incredibly stubborn."

She laughed, not like she wasn't just as stubborn, "And I have no problem calling you on it."

She really didn't have a problem calling me out on just about everything I did.

"I kick in my sleep," I offered, but she already knew that.

"And I sleep sing."

I already knew that as well.

"I—"

"Nothing is going to change my mind, Quinn. So stop trying." There wasn't irritation in her voice, just determination that I envied.

Could I let go and see where it took me? Could I just throw caution into the wind and let Rachel take care of me? It was scary and frightening and exhilarating at the same time, I wanted her here with me but the thought terrified me.

"I can't give you a lot of the stuff someone like Finn can give you," I reminded her.

She laughed almost silently, "Who knows, maybe you'll give me more."

She truly did have a way with words that set my body on fire.

"You have an answer for everything."

"Rachel? Did I lose you?" I called into the silence of the receiver.

Lima didn't have the best reception, maybe she lost her signal. Or maybe she hung up.

Her cackling laughter into the phone had me sighing in relief, "I wanted to prove that I didn't have an answer for everything."

"Very funny," I rolled my eyes, my chest calming down as I heard that she hadn't gone anywhere.

"I scared you, didn't I?"

"No," I replied firmly.

"It's okay to be honest sometimes, Quinn. You don't need to have your guard up all the time."

And just like that, she made me feel safe enough to trust her.

"Yes, I was scared."

"You don't need to be scared anymore, and we can keep hanging out like we have been. There's no pressure."

"Thank you."

"You're most welcomed," She giggled, "I'll let you get back to your date with Sam now."

"I never went," I told her, "I told him my mom broke her ankle."

"Quinn Fabray! God forbid!" she shrieked.

"I'm not the nicest person, Rachel, you should know this."

"Don't say that, I think you've always had good intentions."

She couldn't possibly know about the few times that I put glee before myself because I did it behind everyone's back.

"How do you figure?"

"I know things about you Quinn, I see the good you have in your heart."

"You been stalking me, Berry?"

"It's hard not to notice you," Rachel replied and I found myself blushing once again, "So if you're not on your date…where are you?"

I cleared my throat, "At my house, I'm doing homework in my room," I lied. It was way less embarrassing than admitting that I was at her house at that moment being a creep.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, actually come to think of it, where is Finn?"

Rachel somehow managed to get me on the phone and allow me to completely forget that she was supposed to be at dinner by now with her boyfriend.

"Well I assume he went back to his house after I asked him to drop me off at the Fabray residence."

My eyes widened, "You're at my house?"

"And it's funny, I see no blonde girl doing homework in this cute little room, unless you've turned invisible of course."

"Why are you in my bedroom?

She laughed, "It's a good story actually, Finn still hasn't been able to figure out how to turn the speaker phone off on his phone, so when Sam called to tell him that you were tending to your hurt mother and had to cancel your date, I considered it a sign."

"My mother really could have twisted her ankle, she's always been clumsy."

"Maybe…regardless I wasn't ready to let you spend Valentine's Day with your drugged up mother. You could imagine my shock when I arrived at your house to find your mother throwing a box of chocolates at the TV during one of Maury's cheating lovers episodes, completely unharmed."

The image certainly did sound right.

"Finn didn't give you a hard time?"

"Oh he did, but I told him that you needed me. And he really couldn't say anything after I yelled at him for forgetting to make the reservations in the first place."

I hid the laugh to the best of my ability because I could tell that she was still not amused, whether in his incompetence or in the fact that I was right.

"You didn't have to do that, you know, leave your date. You didn't even know if it was the truth or not."

"It was a risk that I was willing to take, and yet, you're not here so I guess it backfired."

"So you called me, knowing that I wasn't out with Sam?"

"mmHmm," Rachel replied playfully, "So are you going to tell me where you are?"

I ducked my head unnecessarily, "I'm at your house."

"I can't say that I'm entirely shocked, you're kind of predictable in that way."

I scoffed, "I am not."

Rachel laughed, "So this certainly wasn't how I was hoping tonight would go."

"But I'm glad it turned out this way," I finished for her.

"Yeah, me too. So I'm kind of stranded here, do you want to come home?"

"Not yet, can we just talk for a bit?"

"Of course," she answered and I could almost hear her getting more comfortable on my bed, "any reason?"

I closed my eyes as I imagined her in my room, with her eyes closed, hopefully imagining me in her own room. It was comforting.

It felt right and exactly the perfect way to spend the rest of my night. Whether it was our first Valentine's Day together or if it would be our first and last, I really couldn't imagine doing anything else but spending it with her. Maybe we would start a tradition or maybe I'd get too antsy within minutes and rush home to see her, maybe give her that blindsiding kiss that she asked for. It's exactly what happened. But it further confirmed my theory that the best dates were unplanned, they were the random nights that turned into something special.

"No reason," I smiled to myself, "Tell me about your day."

That first Valentine's Day together was special because it started something more.