A/N: First chapter was pretty short so I promise this one will be longer! My main inspirations for this story are One Day by David Nicholls which I've been reading recently, some old school Dawson's Creek, real life events – they say write about what you know – and of course, Glee, just in case you were interested. Keep R&R-ing guys, enjoy.

The second Rachel walked into the party she knew it was a bad idea. Her tight black dress felt too short and her hair was already messy from the windy walk over. As they walked into the packed house throbbing with music, Sam gently grabbed her hand and squeezed it. She looked up at him as his large mouth spread into an excited smile. He seemed to be in his element. But she certainly wasn't. When she was performing; singing, acting or dancing she was completely comfortable in the spotlight, being the centre of attention. But she had to admit, she wasn't a very sociable person, no one other than Sam seemed to like her. So parties weren't really her place.

They pushed past stumbling bodies and walked into the dining room, the table was pushed up against the wall and everyone was dancing in the centre of the room. Puck was grinding on Santana and Rachel turned away in disgust and quickly looked back up at Sam. "Sam, do I look ok?" she half-shouted over the music. "Not too tight or short or anything?"

He spun her out delicately and looked her up and down, "miss Rachel Berry you look beautiful! Care for a dance?"

"It would be an honor!" She laughed as they shimmy-ed into the centre of the dance floor. "But, um we're not even freshmen, don't they all hate us?" Rachel watched the juniors pass drinks and eye them up suspiciously.

"They won't care in twenty minutes," Sam gestured to the large amounts of alcohol piling up on the table pushed towards the wall. "Let's get Puck he scored us some wine coolers!"

Two hours later and Sam had had more than wine coolers. He was stood on the snacks table brandishing a can of some kind of "special brew" Puck's friend of a friend had brought over from England or something and shouting about spin the bottle. A woozy Rachel helped him down and gently guided him out to the front yard and they leaned against the brick wall and watched the passers-by stare in disgust at the trashed house crawling with rowdy, drunken teenagers. He kept hold of her hand while they sat then began to twist a lock of her dark hair in his hand, and give her a strange, heavy-lidded look. "I love you Rachel," he murmured and grinned sleepily.

"Love you too Sam," she laughed giddily letting go of his hand and let her fingers slowly trail the rim of her glass. "Are you having a good night?"

"Yes, yes I am," he twisted himself round awkwardly to face her and she mimicked him, so they were so close their noses were touching. "Are you?"

"Yes I am," Rachel responded lightly, feeling a tight knot of excitement in her stomach. It felt like his eyes were bearing into her and she had to look away. "But, it, um could be better." She looked back up at him from under her dark, thick eyelashes and smiled. He smiled back.

"I might be able to help with that," he murmured leaning in even further and gently cupping her face. The next few seconds felt like hours as Rachel tightly closed her eyes and gently rubbed her lips together. Just as their lips were lightly touching Sam began to whisper and Rachel felt the vibrations of his words on her own lips. "Um, Rach.. I think I'm gonna…" He pulled away, Rachel felt a distinct splat hit her shoes; she opened eyes and was met by the horrible stench of alcohol-induced vomit making all her sinuses sting.

Sam turned around and continued to the throw up in the nearby bushes, mumbling to himself in Na'vi. Two senior girls trotted out to the front garden, saw Sam and Rachel and walked back inside laughing and promising to bring them some water. Rachel stumbled over to Sam and patted him gently on the back and gave him a small, one shoulder massage until the senior girls returned, pint glasses of water in hand.

After glugging down half a pint, Sam wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and whispered, "thanks for staying with me Rach, can you go get Puck and we can head home?"

"Sure," Rachel grinned unconvincingly and headed back into the party, feeling suddenly jealous as the senior girls coo-ed over Sam. She didn't know if it was the absence of Sam, the impossible task of finding Noah or the alcohol wearing off but once again she felt rather uncomfortable and out of place. She scoured all the downstairs rooms, searching for a glimpse of that vile Mohawk. Begrudgingly she tried the three upstairs bedrooms but they were all in use by couples she didn't know. Bored of searching she found the small, seashore themed upstairs bathroom, ran in and locked the door behind her. Turning around she slumped against the door only to find Puck, sat wearily on the edge of the bathtub watching her.

"All right Berry?"

"Sam threw up on my shoes," she whined, examining the remnants of his last meal on her penny loafers.

"Santana dumped me," he offered and she gave him an apologetic smile. "I win."

"I'm so sorry, Noah," she stood up and joined him on the edge of the bathtub, putting a comforting arm around his broad shoulders.

"Why do you care?" He mumbled defensively, turning away and taking a sip from his can.

"Because Noah, surprisingly enough, I don't actually hate you. No matter what horrible things you say or how you treat me. You are like the only person I care about – apart from Sam – and I don't know, I maybe thought you cared too." Her words seemed to be falling out of her mouth, not really making sense, and she decided that maybe the alcohol hadn't quite worn off just.

"Can you just leave me alone?" Puck whispered, still not turning to face her.

"Hey, don't be like that, let's just head back to Sam's and we can all talk about Santana and I promise you'll feel better."

Puck finally turned to her, angry now. "Don't you get it? I don't want to talk to you! Go away, Berry," he spat out his words maliciously, not really sure if he meant them or not.

"Well," Rachel stood up, brushing down her dress. "Don't say I didn't try." And she was gone.

Puck steadied himself on the edge of the bath, chucked the now empty can into the sink and slowly slumped down with his head in his hands.