"I knew as soon as I got there that going without Finn was a bad idea. Every single frickin' person at that party asked where he was. I wasn't about to tell them "dreaming of Rachel Berry" so I just told them that he wasn't feeling well and he was getting some rest. That excuse seemed good enough for everyone. Well, everyone but Puck. He wouldn't leave it alone, taking every opportunity he could to tell me how much better it would be if I was with him."

'Babe, I'd never let you out of my sight. I don't care if I had pneumonia or somethin' I'd still be all up on that,' he'd said as he eyed her lasciviously.

'Thanks, Puck that's so charming of you,' she'd replied the sarcasm nearly tangible. 'But I don't really need to rehash all the reasons we would never work do I?'

"I don't know what I was expecting to accomplish going to the party. You see, Puck did throw "those kinds of parties". The kind I prayed I wouldn't get caught at. In my defense I never drank at any that I went to. Despite my parents being full blown lushes, I actually have quite a low tolerance. Everyone else was too preoccupied with getting drunk and being stupid to carry on an intelligent conversation with. Normally I would have had Finn to talk to, but…

"I made small talk mostly with other Cheerios and some jocks, amidst Puck's constant flirtations with me. I was mostly waiting on Brittany to say she was ready to leave, but I knew that probably wouldn't be until at least two a.m. and I didn't really trust anyone else at the party enough to take me home, except Santana, but let's face it, I figured she was going to be pulling her own kind of all-nighter at Pucks house.

"At about one-thirty, after spectating the tenth or so round of beer pong, I decided to go outside and just be alone. I just kept thinking about how to fix everything. I knew if I could destroy Glee club it might break Rachel's hold on Finn and we could get our status back. I mean, I was still okay, but Finn's rep was going down big time. Mercedes, I cannot even begin to tell you how much I hated that he was in Glee. You have no idea what it's like being the 'it' couple one day and then the next having all the other popular kids coming up to you informing you that your boyfriend's a 'fag'. And that was one of the nicest ways they put it." Quinn hated the word, and hoped Mercedes knew she wasn't using it flippantly. That was just what they had said.

"Yeah, I just know what it's like having two of my friends come up to me and telling me that the guy I thought was my boyfriend was, how did they put it? Lady-fabulous? " Mercedes laughed.

"Yeeaah, I'm getting to that part later. That was kinda my fault. Anyway, back to the party. I just thought that if I could get Finn back…maybe I could like myself again. Because at that point, I didn't, I mean I really didn't. I felt absolutely worthless. I was the girl every guy in school wanted and the only guy I wanted, my boyfriend, was hung up on Rachel Freakin' Berry, the Slushie Queen! I was no longer in Sue's good graces now that I was becoming a fatty, I was barely maintaining my "A" average, Celibacy Club was falling through because I was practically the only member who, up until that point, was still following the 'rules'. I was tired and aggravated all the time, so my parents were once again telling me to basically suck it up. They thought it was just all the responsibilities I was having to juggle, so when I tried to even broach the subject of a deeper problem, do you think they wanted to hear it or offer any kind of advice? Oh, no."

Problem solving and dealing with problem-people is just a skill you have to hone to become successful. You've got to put your foot down and move that mountain yourself!

"I just knew if there wasn't any Glee or Rachel to distract Finn that everything would start falling back into place. Puck must have realized this was his cue to come out and talk to me. It was getting close to three am and I had heard people leaving for a while, but I didn't want to go back in. It was a warm night and I was just out there on the deck with my shoes off and my feet in the pool.

"He came out there with a four pack of wine coolers; I didn't even think really, I just took one. He asked me if I was okay. There was so much sincerity in his voice and in his eyes, it made me forget the man-whore Puck and made me remember the Puck that made me feel beautiful," Quinn's voice caught on the last word as a tear slipped down her cheek. "It made me remember that under all of the Mohawk and muscles, the bad-attitude and big-talk was a guy who really did care about me. So I told him everything. About Rachel and Finn, the Cheerios, the weigh-in and how fat I felt. I just unloaded everything on him, and he took it. Not as much as I've unloaded on you, just the past couple months' worth.

"But he listened. He just looked at me so intently while I talked, like I was the most important thing in the world. He didn't offer any advice, I didn't expect him to, but he did try to make me feel better about myself."

'Are you kidding? You're anything but fat.' His eyes raked over her. 'You are absolutely smokin'. Do you think I'd be wastin' my time out here with a girl I didn't find totally tap-able?'

Quinn rolled her eyes. 'If you were looking for a way to kill the moment, that was it.'

'Q, I'm sorry.' He cupped her face, and leaned in close. She could smell the alcohol on his breath, but she knew he was far from drunk. Beyond the stale drink, she could smell the intoxicating scent that was just him, and she felt herself being pulled in again. His eyes were sincere, yet smoldering with a desire she was afraid was reflecting in her own eyes, when he said to her, 'you're not fat. You're beautiful. I don't think you have any idea how breathtaking you are.' The last word landed as a warm whispering breath against the corner of her mouth and she soon felt the faint brush of his lips hovering over hers.

Quinn sucked in a sharp breath before placing both hands on his chest and gently pushing him away. Noting the hurt look on his face, she said softly, 'I'm sorry. I can't. I just can't do this with you again.' And then she said the words she should have never said. 'I don't know if I can trust myself with you.'

"I couldn't let him kiss me, not with as vulnerable as I felt. He just always made me feel so good even though I knew being with him was utterly wrong."

'Fine,' he said, but gently, not rudely as he stood up. Probably reveling in the fact that she had just practically admitted to him that she didn't think she could control herself if they started kissing. 'At least let me take you home,' he said helping her up.

"To which I replied…"

'Oh I rode with Brittany.'

'Brittany's been gone, baby. She left with Santana about an hour ago.'

"Brittany probably forgot that I had ridden with her, typical. So I agreed to let him take me. We went back in the house so he could get his keys. There were still a few party-ers but they were pretty much passed out on the living room floor. Puck made a mental note of who each one was so that if anything came up missing while he was gone, he knew who to shake down.

"He brought the wine coolers with us and I drank another on the way home. We didn't talk much during the ride, he knew the way, he had cleaned my hot tub a few times over the summer. We went inside, my parents weren't home, thank God since it was close to four by then. They were at some kind of Christian marriage strengthening weekend retreat or something.

Puck whistled as they entered the front door into the grand foyer. He had never really been in Quinn's house before, only the kitchen which was accessible from the hot tub via a sliding glass door, to get a drink while he was working. 'Someday I'm gonna have me a house like this.'

'Not cleaning pools you won't,' Quinn laughed. 'You'd better start charging those lonely old ladies extra for the additional services you offer.'

Puck placed a hand theatrically on his hip. 'If you were looking for a way to kill the moment, that was it,' he said, mocking her. 'I'm trying to carry on a nice platonic conversation and you go and insult my clientele,' he said, smiling.

Quinn sighed, then said (seriously against her better judgment), 'Fine, I'll give you the tour.'