"Hey thanks for coming tonight!" I read the text from Reagan. I was back in the library with Quinn. Brittany waited around for Reagan, so we went back to our studies. I hastily replied back.

"Do I ever miss? :) Hahaha tough loss, but it's alright. We got some good chirps in at their disgusting fans."

"Haha yeahh we'll bounce back. Look I don't wanna be rude, but I'm supposed to tell you to stay away from Megan. She's still with her ex, so just cool it." I stared at the message with my jaw on the floor. Did she really just come straight out of nowhere and say that? And Megan? I've talked to the girl like three times and SHE came onto ME, for the record. I looked like I'd just seen a ghost.

"What?" Quinn asked, hitting me in the arm. "What?"

"Read it," I saw as a toss my phone on the table. Quinn reads, her face screwed up in confusion.

"Well that's some bullshit." She says, deadpanned.

"I literally cannot even believe this," I say as I type back to Reagan. "Anonymous message? Like kiss my ass."

I send back, "Didn't peg you to get involved with crap like this, but message received. You can tell the douche bag that put you up to it, that if I really wanted to steal her girl, she'd be mine right now."

Quinn reads it over, and approves. I eventually get Reagan to confess that it was Megan's ex, Melissa, who sent the message. I get back to my paper, fuming, and my phone rings again.

"For fuck's sake, what now?" I say as I open the message. It's from Bree.

"What up girrrrl, just wanted to let ya know that Santana's sleeping. She's not allowed to use her phone. Wicked concussion, but I think she would appreciate a visit later tonight maybe?"

I reply back "Hmmm, I'd be happy to oblige :)" Truth is, I'm just happy it's not another anonymous message.

"We're going to Bree's later, yes?" I say to Quinn. She rolls her eyes.

"Ah, I see. WE are going, eh?" she says smiling.

"Can it, Q. You're lucky I even talk to you...ow!" I exclaim as she punches me right in the side.

We carry on, doing our homework, until we finish it all up. Then we hit the cafe for some dinner, and head to Santana and Bree's. Julie opens the door, per usual.

"Ladies," Julie says, gesturing for us to enter. "Please enter. Can I offer you a drink or something to eat? Perhaps some Ramen and gatorade? Hahaha that's all we have." Ahh Jules, classic joker. We walk in to find Bree and Santana lounging on the couch, watching TV.

"Liv, my head is broken," Santana says, pouting. My heart does a flip, and I can't breathe for a second. Luckily Bree relieves me of my duty to actually speak.

"Oh shut up! You just bumped your head. You had a helmet, you're fine," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Oh yeah? I'm gonna slam your head into the boards and see how you like it!" Santana yells.

"Woah there, Rocky. Doc said to take it easy now," Bree shot back with. I guess I should add something to this conversation.

"Aw, you poor little bulldog," I say, feigning sympathy and walking over to sit next to Santana. "Let me fix it for you," I say as she lays her head in my lap, and I start running my fingers through her hair. Woah now, Livbug, making moves left and right. Santana smiles and continues watching TV as Quinn plops down next to Bree.

"Dude, Flyers suck. Rangers all the way," she says, cracking open a beer. Someone's certainly making themselves at home.

"Agreed. Giroux is a clown," Bree adds, opening one of her own. Technically softball and hockey have dry seasons, meaning they are not allowed to drink. But we're outlaws, so we bend the rules. Quinn and Bree cheers their beers together and watch the game. We watch for a while, and Quinn gets up after the game.

"Alright gals, this bulldog is so tired. I'm heading home," she says, as we all get up.

"You can stay a little longer, right?" Santana asks me. I nod, and somehow my mouth just can't seem to make words.

"Liv, Jules, Bree, San, keep it real. See you guys tomorrow," Quinn says as I hug her and walk her out.

"Get lucky tonight, eh Larson?"

"Oh...haha..yeah, no I'll try. Ya know, unless she's tired or feels icky or just doesn't want to. Ha..but yeah. Hopefully. Ya know, hopefully she'll wanna...you know,' I stutter embarrassingly.

"Really, Liv? You're lucky we're outside, because I don't think you made one coherent sentence," she laughs. "Goodnight, Romeo,"

I walk back in, and Bree stops me in the doorway.

"Look, right now Santana is in the bathroom. I'm going to give you time to prepare for what's about to happen, because you couldn't talk your way out of a paper bag when you're nervous, which you're about to be. Santana is going to come out of the bathroom, yawn, and say she's tired. You stand up and act like you're going to leave. She's going to ask you to stay. All you need to do is say yes. That's it. Stand up, say yes."

"O-okay. Stand up, say yes," I repeat, already flustered.

"Stand up. Say yes," Bree repeats as she leads me back to the couch.

Like clockwork, Santana struts out of the bathroom. She yawns and stretches.

"Wow am I tired," she says. Okay, this is where I say yes? No! No, stand up, right? Yeah, I stand up. Bree gives me a look, and I stand up and make for the door.

"Wait, Liv. Do you maybe want to stay over tonight? My roommate's out, so I have the room," she says, lowering her head and darkening her stare. Oh snap.