Author's Note: If anyone asks, I totally did not write this at work. I couldn't help it. I was dying to seeing to see where it was going to go. Crazy, right? It's my story, you would think I'd know what was going to happen next. I had no idea when I started writing this that it would take me 14 chapters just to get to the first kiss. Thanks again for the continued support.

Rachel's dads had been surprised and then pleased when she'd told them she was going to the football game. They'd even offered to let her drive herself. She'd declined, and they had protested, expressing their concern about her walking home alone so late at night. She assured them a friend would drive her home, and promised to call for a ride if anything changed.

She had her hand on the front door handle when she thought of the little pink box. She walked back into living and took a breath to steady herself.

"Tina Cheng mentioned she be might having a sleepover tonight. Would it be alright if I went?"

The delight on their faces made her cringe inside. "Of course, of course," they'd chorused. She knew they worried about her seeming lack of friends, and she hated lying to them.

She hurried outside into the cool night air and walked quickly down the street. Her mind was racing, trying to decide if she was making the right decision. Initially she been hurt by his response to her question, but after considerable reflection she realized he had actually been completely honest with her. No doubt he could have lied, she was sure that he'd done it before when sex was on the line. But he'd answered her honestly, and that had to count for something, right? He'd asked her to come to his game, and to meet him after. That seemed significant given their history.

She didn't have unrealistic expectations. She knew he wasn't going to fall in love with her, and they weren't going to live happily ever after. She was however, fairly confident that they could become friends, and friends were nice, right?

It had taken her almost an hour to recover from their encounter, and still, if she closed her eyes, she could feel where his body had touched hers. It made her lightheaded. Hormones, she told herself, this was all just a chemical reaction gone madly astray. She worried that if she didn't do something about this, she'd spend the rest of her life unable to concentrate on anything but that moment.

She had to get him out of her system. She accepted the fact that she wanted what he was offering her. She was a practical woman, and she knew that sex wasn't always about love. He was experienced, obviously. She believed what he'd said to her earlier that morning. "You wouldn't know what hit you, but you'd love every minute of it." Yes, she was quite certain she would.

He was cocky, true, but she'd seen that he had a kinder side, small as it may be. He'd be gentle with her, she reasoned, though she had no specific evidence to justify that conclusion.

She wanted to be friends with him. She wanted to help him see what an amazing talent he had. That would never happen unless she could look to him without wanting to rip his clothes off. It had to be done.

Turning at the road to the school, she crossed the street and pushed the door open to the convenience store they had stopped at last night. She quickly scanned the patrons in the brightly lit shop, and was relieved not to see anyone she knew. She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and walked up to the middle aged woman at the counter.

"I'd like a box of condoms, please," she said in the most adult voice she could muster.

The sales clerk didn't even look up at her. "What kind?"

Rachel flinched. There were options? Why didn't they tell her that in Sex Education?

"What do you recommend?" she asked, hoping she didn't sound foolish.

The lady paused, and peered over the top of her bifocals at Rachel. She could feel her cheeks burning red with embarrassment. Without saying a word, the clerk plucked a box off the wall behind her and placed it on the counter.

"That'll be $3.49."

Rachel plucked the necessary bills out of her wallet and laid them on the counter. The woman gave her the appropriate change, and slid the box into a small brown paper bag. Rachel carefully tucked the bag into her coat pocket and turned to exit the store. Once outside, she had a brief moment of panic. What was she doing? This was crazy. She took several deep, cleansing breaths and tried to settle herself. "Relax," she thought, "you haven't made the actual decision yet, you're just being responsible." What was that thing the boy scouts said? Be prepared.

She could see the stadium lights from here, and she heard the roar of the crowd. She slowly walked the last three blocks to the school. A wave of nerves hit her as she neared the admission booth. Pausing several yards, she sat on a bench and opened her purse. She pulled out the neatly folded Wikipedia article on American Football that she printed out before she left home. Reading carefully through the pages, she realized that this was a complicated sport, but she thought she had the basics down. Tucking the pages back into her bag, she stood and continued to the gate. She purchased her ticket, and walked inside the stadium, surprised by how many people seemed to be there. She eyed the scoreboard and saw that she had arrived with four minutes left in the third quarter and the score was tied 7-7.

Looking up at the bleachers, she froze in alarm. Where was she supposed to sit? Everyone was there with friends or family, and they were packed tightly onto the narrow metal rows. Scanning the crowd, she spotted three girls she had met during her brief stint with "Cabaret" roughly half way up the stands and off to the right. She was fairly certain they were freshman. She climbed the stairs and walked towards them. With a bright, albeit fake, smile, she asked if she could sit with them. They stopped talking and stared at her. One of the girls finally muttered, "Sure" and they slid closer together so that she could sit on the end. Once she was settled, the girls quickly turned back to whispered and talking amongst themselves, ignoring Rachel completely.

She barely noticed. She watched the field in amazement. She quickly picked out both Finn and Puck on the sidelines. Finn was easy to spot due to his height, and Puck… well it wasn't hard to catch a glimpse of the Mohawk, she thought, smiling to herself. She'd never really paid attention to football before, but after spending several moments enjoying the sight of both boys in those tight pants, she thought maybe she'd been missing out.

The game was fascinating. She knew Finn was the quarterback, and she quickly determined that Puck was an offensive player as well. The descriptions of positions she had read earlier were slightly confusing, but she thought maybe Puck was a running back. When they took the field together, she was struck by their differences. Finn was tall and agile, and he possessed a certain grace that he certainly didn't display while dancing.

Puck however, while not short, was obviously not as tall as Finn but slightly more muscular. He was fast and fierce. She watched him block players that obviously outweighed him by a significant amount. He didn't give an inch as the crashed into him. When he ran, he was amazing. He cut and turned so quickly that she had trouble following him. He flung players off his back as they tried to bring him to the ground. She was enthralled.

The game went by quickly, and she watched with relief as the opposing team missed their field goal attempt. She glanced at the sideline and saw that Puck had turned toward her for the first time since she'd arrived. Her heart flipped when she realized he'd spotted her. She smiled and waved excitedly.

Next to her, the freshmen girls were whispering furiously.

"Puck…"

"Finn…"

"Parking lot… fighting about her"

She knew he had seen her. His teammate had spotted her as well, and she watched him say something and punch Puck in the arm. She waited for what seemed like an eternity. Nothing. With one last look at her he slammed his helmet on his head and ran onto the field.

The girls were silent for a moment, obviously watching Rachel for a reaction.

She was stunned. She felt has though someone had kicked her in the stomach. She was an idiot. What had she been thinking? Reality crashed down on her, and she realized that whatever had happened earlier that day was a fluke. She'd been a fool to think they could ever be friends. Guys like Puck were jerks, and you couldn't change that. They were on very different levels in the hierarchy that defined the high school social status, and they always would be. Why had he asked here? No matter what happened between them, it would never be enough for him to risk his precious reputation by even acknowledging her outside of Glee.

"Guess not…"

"Stupid anyway, he's way too hot…"

"Who is she kidding, he'd never…"

She jumped out of her seat and ran down the bleachers. She heard the crowd cheer loudly just as she descended the final stair. Looking up she saw him in the end zone clutching the ball, and watched him raise it high in the air. Looking down at the ground she tried to hold back the tears that threatened to spill forth. Unbeknownst to her, had she watched him a split second longer she would have seen him look for her in the crowd.

She had meant to go home. She didn't want to see him, didn't want to let him know she'd cried over him too. But then the tears turned to rage. Who did he think he was, anyway? Sure, he was a big fish in a little pond, but high school would end and she'd get out of this town. He might have talent, but he didn't have the guts to anything about it. He'd end up like most guys in this town, stuck working some menial job, and spending his free time trying to recapture the glory days of his youth. He'd be a Lima Loser.

She contemplated waiting down by the field house, but she was scared he'd just ignore her and she'd lose the courage to tell him exactly what she thought of him. So she found his truck, tucked in a back corner of the student parking lot. Leaning against it, she waited in the shadows. It seemed like forever, but she spent the time formulating her speech in her head.

Suddenly her purse vibrated, and she heard the muffled strains of Celine Dion. Thrusting her hand in the bag she extracted her phone and almost had a heart attack when she saw his name flashing on the screen. She had, of course, diligently entered all of the numbers on the phone roster Mr. Schuester had provided them earlier in the week. Angrily she flipped the phone open, ready to give him a piece of her mind, but the line was dead.

Fuming she shoved the small pink rectangle back her purse and when she looked up, he was walking toward her with a dopey grin on his face. God, she wanted to hit him. She opened her mouth, prepared to deliver the discourse she'd worked so hard on, when all of the sudden, the world screeched to a halt.

Her brain felt like cotton candy and she slowly became aware that his lips were pressed softly against hers. His hand burned on her neck, and she felt the arm slide around her waist and pull her smoothly forward. Every nerve in her body was on fire as she melted into him. Instinctively, she slid her arms around his neck and pulled his mouth closer as his lips moved against hers with increasing urgency. She could think of nothing else. Who was she kidding? She couldn't even think. She could feel the warmth ooze through her body, and she sensed a smoldering inferno building inside her. His tongue gently touched her lips, teasing them open. She parted them ever so slightly, and she knew she was done for. Up until that moment, she'd thought Finn's kiss had been monumental, but she realized now that if that kiss was monumental, this one was earth shattering. She let go of everything, and he consumed her. She couldn't tell anymore where she stopped and he began. Time lost all meaning, and she was vaguely surprised to see it was still dark outside when they slowly broke apart.

Warning bells were going off in her head as the evening's events flooded back to her. Slowly she slid her hands down and pressed them against his chest as rage seeped into every pore. She forced herself to look at him as she shoved herself backwards. Without even thinking she pulled her arm back. As her hand was flying through air, she saw the look in his eyes and the smile on his face, but it was too late. She slapped him. Hard.