Episode 15, Chapter 3:

At some point in the night Quinn remembered that Kurt hadn't come to her SAT get-together. That is why she hadn't dug up any dirt–she was missing her best sleuth!

Quinn texted him four messages in quick succession telling him to get his fashionably late butt over there. She expected he would come over after he finished lip-locking his boyfriend, shopping, or whatever else he was doing. When it was going on 9pm, she gave up studying and called for all lights out and total silence in the apartment not including Santana and Brittany who were expected to keep working because they hadn't found anything. She was definitely running out of time.

Quinn fell asleep easily enough, but, at some ungodly hour in the morning, she awoke. She removed her face mask and saw even the girls were asleep. Where was Kurt?

She knew she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep as long as she felt completely unsettled like this. Quinn did something she never did then. She called his apartment. Carole slept like a log so she wouldn't wake up for a phone, but Kurt would.

When the phone was answered, she immediately began talking, "Why didn't you answer my texts or at least call to say you weren't coming? You know how rude it is to leave someone hanging like that."

"Do you know what time it is?" Puck smirked over the phone. Quinn could tell.

"Puck? What are you doing there? Where's Kurt?"

"He's indisposed at the moment. Remember April 20th last year…"

"No! Kurt would never. Tomorrow is the SAT!" she yelled a little too loud.

"Hey! Quiet down. It's four in the morning. I was waiting up for him. He got home thirty minutes ago. Do you have any clue who he was with?"

"No idea. Anyone but his prudish boyfriend, I guess," she answered.

"Quinn, I'm pretty sure you were once a prude too. Don't go throwing that word around my future stepbrother."

"Oh please, Puck! No one from school would be hanging out right now besides you. They care about their future too much to do something stupid the night before the test."

"Why do you talk about it so preachfully?"

"'Preachfully' is not a word. I speak of it 'reverently' You, obviously, wouldn't understand as you aren't taking the test, but it will determine my future."

"Noah Puckerman will be taking the test tomorrow."

"I know it won't be the real you. Santana already told me. Look, I don't have to speak to you. Please just look out for Kurt. I'm going back to bed."

Wouldn't I like to join you, he mumbled just out of the phone. He banged his hand on the wall.

"Alright bye," he responded and hung up. "Good luck tomorrow,"he said out loud when he knew she couldn't hear him.

Quinn felt even more annoyed after he hung up on her. She reapplied her eye mask and flipped over in bed.


Blaine waited around for Kurt in front of the building. He wore a Brooks Brothers Zig-Zag Tipped v-veck sweater, Sperry Top-Sider Men's Authentic Original boat shoe, and a Rag & Bone Straw Oval Porkpie hat to boost his confidence. [Last Friday Night] In just a couple minutes, he would see his doom or do really well, it was hard to say. Both were viable options. Except, now his stomach turned not from his fear, but his concern for Kurt, who hadn't answered any of his calls all morning or replied to his 'Goodnight' and 'Good Luck' texts from last night. He was desperate enough to ask Quinn about him. She stopped to talk him too because she hadn't heard from Kurt all morning.

"Do you know if he's okay?" Blaine asked her.

"He went drinking last night. Let's leave it at that," she said bluntly and made to leave. He rested a hand on her arm to hopefully get her to stay. She shook her head, "I have no idea what's going on with him. Maybe you can get something out of him. I doubt he's coming today," she said and adjusted her Vintage Courreges Orange Vinyl Coat. She was wearing a blue motif Anthropologie Mompos dress and Anthropologie City Spectator wedges with tights. [New York]

Blaine shook his head not wanting to believe it, but the testing room was already open. Kurt wasn't coming. There wasn't much else to believe. His stomach wasn't soothed at all by the news. He'd need it turned off while he took the test.


Quinn had woken up in the morning and gotten to the testing building with calm and collected confidence. She didn't think could be shaken before she sat down to take her test. However, she was mistaken.

Zizes had done her research and found pictures of what Quinn looked like before she went to the William McKinley School, and they could be totally different people. The school pictures of Lucy Q. Fabray were supposed to have been incinerated as well as all the proof of her existence. It turned out that one survived, and Zizes had it. She stepped in her path before Quinn could sign her name in to take the test.

"What were you doing last night?" Zizes asked her.

"Relaxing a bit," Quinn lied. "Not all of us have to worry about passing the SAT, some of us just are born ready to take it," she shrugged. Her attempt to make Zizes jealous did not make Quinn look any smarter. In fact, it would only make Zizes' sweet revenge more delicious.

"You think I was asking about your study habits? I took the SAT a year ago and got a 2300. I think I'll be fine at getting into any school I want. I was talking about your goons digging into any possibly embarrassing facts that you could find to destroy me."

"Why on Earth would I want to do that? I'm actually a nice person," Quinn's effortlessly light voice covering up her blatant lie.

"No, you're not, and that's okay," Zizes pouted sarcastically. "Because in one minute, you'll be much nicer," she continued with a sigh. In a moment it changed as she smiled devilishly, "Lucy."

That one word made Q tremble even when she told herself the name had no control over her anymore.

Suddenly, she heard the most terrifying sound. Her specific ringtone for when a Gossip Girl blast came out. It was followed by a hundred other blips around the big entryway where her class was waiting to be allowed upstairs. She panicked. If people knew her name, they could dig, but she solaced herself by knowing they wouldn't discover anything. She opened it and to horror found something worse than just her name. Her third-grade photo of a brown-haired, chubby girl with bangs, glasses and braces. She was nothing like the girl standing before them today who declared herself a Queen of the Upper East Side.

Zizes plan worked. Utterly humiliated, Quinn ran out of the lobby.

Santana and Brittany who were sitting out front snickered as she ran past them.

Puck was too far away to offer any support, not that he could have given her much. She looked kind of cute in her younger picture, not his type exactly, but he cared more about the finished product anyway.


The closest friend she had, even though she didn't know it yet, was Finn. He'd woken up early that morning for football practice. He decided to pass by to say good luck to his older friends on the team who were taking the test. He didn't get Gossip Girl blasts so he didn't know why Quinn was running down the block trying to get away.

"Quinn! Hey, wait up!" he yelled. She didn't stop because she couldn't hear him. He chased her because he had nothing better to do and she looked pretty upset. She stopped once she came to a corner and couldn't cross the street. She fell apart then, crying next to the crosswalk sign. "Quinn, what's going on with you? I've never seen you like this."

"Finn, please just go away. I don't want you to see me like this," she said throwing up her hands.

"I've seen you a bunch of ways—I mean, sorry. It's just that I've grown up with you. You're practically family. You can trust me."

"I can't, not right now. I have to be ready for the test in ten minutes, but I don't think I can go back in there. I'm too humiliated," she said wiping the tears from her eyes.

"I don't understand how you do it every day," Finn sat down beside her.

"Do what?" Quinn asked looking up from her hands. Her eyes were still wet, and her face was tinted pink.

"Live in your world? Live on a social throne that other people constantly kick out from under you, but you still fight to stay on top. I don't mean it in a bad way. I know I wouldn't have the strength that you have Quinn."

"I'm not that strong…" she said pathetically, "but thank you for thinking I am."

He hugged her gently. They sat like that for a few moments until Finn lifted his head. Quinn looked at him. For a minute, they forgot themselves and kissed.

Neither noticed the pair of feet that had stopped in front of them. The little squeak she made was enough to pull him out of it.

"Rachel!" he called.

The moment after they'd made eye contact, she ran away. Now, he had someone else to chase. He rushed away from Quinn not looking back.

The blonde paused to look at herself. She threw her head in her hands in shame.

After a moment, surprisingly, she could feel her confidence building up. She would be better. Lifting herself off the ground, she wiped away her tears and marched back.


"Rachel!" He cornered the brunette, wearing a bright green Marc by Marc Jacobs Scribble Houndstooth skirt and black turtleneck, when she made a turn into an alleyway. [1x01] "I don't know why I'm even chasing you," he said aloud to himself.

"I don't know why either." she responded. "You obviously already moved on to Quinn of all people, the one person who truly hates me," she said sorry for herself.

"That wasn't what—it's not what it looked like! I don't like Quinn that way. She just looked really sad, and I wanted to help."

"Is kissing girls always how you make them feel better?" Rachel questioned him. Finn knew her cries after months together. She was clearly devastated and angry.

"You have no right to be mad at me."

"No? You broke things off with me, I can barely think straight, and now I see you with her of all people! You can never understand how that makes me feel," she wept.

"I could, actually. It's the way I feel when I see you with all of them. It hurts when someone doesn't want to pick you."

"Is that why you kissed her?" Rachel asked perplexed.

"No! Will you listen to what I'm trying to say? You want to see something that's not there. Rachel, I'm still getting over you!"

"Oh…how's that going?" Rachel shot back. Finn thought for a beat.

"It's pretty slow. I can't get you out of my head."

"Me either…"

"I'm not the bad one here. I hope we are clear on that. You told me how you really felt about us—" Finn explained.

"I say crazy things all the time," she interrupted him. "That doesn't mean that I mean them. When I said those things, I wasn't thinking straight. You can say I never think before I speak. You can call me a terrible person. You can say I take you for granted. I do! I do all the time and that is the worst part. I should tell you 'I love you' every time I see you because it is always true and always will be true! I hate not being with you."

"Rachel… I love you too. I missed talking to you, but you hurt me," he gently said inching closer to her.

"This week has been hell. I'd rather drive myself insane than give myself a moment to think about you because if I did, I know I wouldn't stop crying. I'm so sorry about what I said. Can you please forgive me?"

"I forgive you, Rachel," he said.

She threw her arms around him.

"Let's try again, but slower this time," he added quickly.

"Okay," she agreed, kissing him passionately. He easily reciprocated, remembering how small she was in his arms.

Looks like our queen wannabe found her perfect king. We hear he's a unity man. Guess big brother's been teaching little sis how to snag the ones with a trust fund.


Blaine left the test shaking his head and scratching the back of his neck. He thought it went well, but he wouldn't know for a while. His eyes spotted Kurt once they were in the open air. Kurt always looked beautiful, but Blaine could tell this morning that Kurt had tried extra hard to look good. He wore his must-have Kristin Lora Mounted Hippopotamus brooch, HUGO by Hugo Boss Everso derby shoes, HUGO by Hugo Boss Contrast Lapel 'Aleso' blazer and Paul Smith Shark Tooth print trouser. [Vogue interview]

Blaine could tell Kurt was playing off a headache. He went straight to Kurt's side after the test hoping he'd get an honest response out of him if they were face to face. He was sadly disappointed.

When he asked him what had happened, Kurt said he had a migraine. He didn't mention the drinking, or other bad decisions. He was lying.

"That's weird because I already talked to Quinn, and she said you went "partying" last night," Blaine couldn't help but get a bit flustered.

"That's not true. She's wrong," Kurt replied as seriously as he could muster but he also looked flustered. Blaine cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. He couldn't believe it.

"Kurt..." he said and paused. "I know what you look like hungover. I've seen you at school like this before, 2 years ago. I know you did something. You don't have to lie to me."

"I'm not lying. I'm fine, perfectly fine," Kurt chipperly smiled. Blaine cracked.

"Why are you pretending right now? Who do you think it helps? Can you just—will you please just talk to me?"

"What is there to talk about?"

"You quit the party game a long time ago. Your eyes are still red. You starting up the night before the SAT? It can't be a coincidence."

"I don't want to talk about it. Can we not talk about this anymore?"

"There can't be 'we' when you keep lying to me, Kurt!" Blaine snapped at him. Kurt winced at the sound covering both his ears. In the months, since he'd cut back, he'd become more of a lightweight. "Talk to me," Blaine said at an even tone.

"I can't give you what you want. I'm sorry." Kurt spoke sadly.

"Really? Well, call me when you can…" Blaine carped.

Kurt called after him, but Blaine wouldn't stop.


Kurt did not realize until he got home that Dave had used last night as a giant trick. In their old games, he would usually retaliate, but these were new games one year in the making.

The coincidental timing had to be more than just coincidence. Dave would not have predicted Kurt would agree to drinks by chance. Unless he did, in fact, because he did know Kurt better than the boy knew himself. When his walls were lowered, there was no saying what he would agree to. Dave could have easily taken advantage of his newfound trust in him.

He had to see if he was right. Confirming his own fears would mean he was in deep crap because one, the games weren't over, and two, he was woefully underprepared.

The smile on his face when Dave opened the door was all he needed. The night hadn't been two friends coming together: It had been the start of the next round.


Blaine never went to bars even when he was upset and lonely. He usually brooded in the comfort of his bedroom, but just this once, he needed a drink. Something was seriously going on with Kurt, and he wouldn't tell him anything. Blaine found an empty bar seat and tried to be invisible.

Surprisingly, the next act of the night in this particular gay bar was line dancing—of all nights he decided to go! He watched mostly unimpressed when one of the guys winked at him from the stage. After the dance, he came towards him. The bartender called him Dave, but he told Blaine his name was Kary.

"Nice to meet you, Kary."


~A.N. Blaine has no idea what's going on and I do feel very sorry for him. You'll have to wait a bit longer to see if he gets an answers for what the heck is going on with Kurt! And Finchel is back together (for now), but what is up with that Finn and Quinn kiss? Any fans of Fuinn out there?