A/N: Okay, I realized that I should probably put a fore-warning here - things are going to begin to quickly spiral out of control in Lima (c.1994) and there are really some potential warnings for violence coming up, that remainin a part of the story, (if you've read the book and are familiar with the character of Henry Bowers, than you may understand where my influence came from for certain parallels with Glee characters) but nonetheless, I just wanted to give you all a heads up (also offensive language is heavily used by certain characters, strictly for characterization purposes)

That being said, I don't want you all to be totally turned off by this chapter...I think this will be mostly shocking for those of you who aren't familiar with the novel. For those of you who have read...there are some parallels for sure.

PART TWO: JUNE 1994

CHAPTER EIGHT:

FINN HUDSON TAKES A BEATING

1

Just cresting past 12:32am on American Airlines flight 261 to Dayton, Ohio, Mary Little – a portly thing of a stewardess – moves to check up on one of her passengers. He sits in a first class seat, although his attire differs substantially from the business class passengers surrounding him. His jeans are dirty and caked with mud – he smells like…manure for goodness sake. And the Cleveland Browns baseball cap he wears falls solemnly around his boyish face. The five o'clock shadow on his chin giving him an air of manly charm despite his appearance. He is everything if not handsome, she thinks as she approaches. She's watched him sit here for quite some time, eyes open but unseeing. She's been the one to charge his credit card for little miniature bottles of Whiskey and Gin – at least five of them litter his tray table. But he continues to sit, almost unblinking as the night eclipses him through the side window.

"Sir? Did you need anything else, tonight?" She watches warily as he turns his head. She can count the freckles gracing his cheeks, and she spots the beginnings of a sun burn along the tip of his nose. He smiles at her lazily, a slow thing, and she blushes under his glance.

"No, thank you ma'am. I think I'm all set." She nods, turning around. But not before chancing another backwards glance at him seated there. She watches his smile fall, and the blank expression return to his face. And all of a sudden he doesn't look quite so handsome anymore, she thinks. In fact – he looks all but haunted. And before she can dwell on the curiosities of the man sitting in 2B, a series of tilts and shifts rock her body around the aisle of the cabin. Captain Ford's voice eclipsing the sleeping passengers over the intercom…

"Looks like we've hit a pretty bad pocket just here over Gary, Indiana. Please remain in your seats, the seatbelt sign is coming on." Mary looks around and smiles at the flurry of unsteady glances thrown her way. She tries to quell them with a happy smile just as she feels the plane dip. She closes her eyes, knowing that this flight will no longer be an easy one. Somewhere nearby a toddler begins a steady wail, rhythmically exalting its cries as the plane dips and bends with turbulence. She moves unsteadily back to the front of the cabin, where first class is and takes a seat in the flight attendant seating, fastening her seatbelt. Sue sits next to her, popping a piece of mint gum around in her mouth.

"Looks like this just turned into a disaster." Mary nods her head before glancing back up at the man in 2B, a hollow smile twisting his lips. Yep, she's positive that he looks down right creepynow, sitting there like that.

"What do you think 's up with him, Sue?" She points to the baseball capped man with a steady frown on her face as the plane shudders in the night.

"Got me. He looks pretty fucked up though, doesn't he?" Mary nods, not quite sure if that's even the tip of the iceberg. "Yea Sue, perhaps."

Finn Hudson leans his head back in the dim lighting of the plane. He can feel the eyes of that inquisitive stewardess still following him, but he has no reason to care. He lets the idea of sleep entertain him despite its impossibility. And as the plane rockets and shudders around them, he hums his eyes to a close – envisioning his destination, and the inevitable end he is to find there. As his eyes close to the darkness, he lets the fear consume him – it's almost peaceful being this receptive to its advances. And his mind whirs as his eyes droop beneath his eyelids. He can hear the steady beeping of the engine lights outside on the wing tips, and he settles into that constant reassurance. His mind finally stops buzzing, as he is eclipsed within a haze. A dream perhaps…to finally quell his real-time horrors. And the beeping continues, steady and sure.

Beep.

Beeep.

Beeeep.

Turning into a steady ringing in his ears. And suddenly it's a bell – a steady, shrill thing, piercing his subconscious as he drifts off – a bell.

It's loud, almost too loud.

It rings with a familiar cacophony, and it reminds him of Lima.

Brrr-riiiiiiiiiingggg!

And school is,

Finally…

2

Out.

Brrrr-rinnnnnnngggg!

The bell is the signal for all things joyous at Lima Elementary. Signaling the end of another school year, another year gone by with not much to show for it so far. Lima Elementary School sits right on the main drag off of Ellswater, just in between Kroger and Lorraine Middle School off of Townley. Finn Patrick Hudson sits beside his wooden desk, staring at the crude drawings etched into the grain with pens, pencils – perhaps, sometimes knives. He smiles as the bell rings shrilly throughout Mrs. Geller's stuffy old classroom. He had been spending his last few minutes as a fifth grader, listening silently to a conversation being had by Amanda Keeler seated a seat over. Having been so engrossed in her conversation with Emma Hardwick, that she hadn't even realized his interest.

"I'm going with my parents to Hawaii this summer! What about you Ems?" Amanda is nothing if not conceited in her wealth. Her family owns the local chain of video rental stores, and she spares no moment without rubbing her wealth into the burning skin of her peers. Emma, in return smiles weakly, twirling a chewed up pencil around one of her fingers.

"Oh, I don't know Mandy, I think I'm just going to Charlotte to visit my granny and grandpa for the summer." Amanda nods knowingly, giving Emma a look of sheer ten-year old sympathy.

"Oh, well. I'll be sure to send a postcard from Honolulu." Emma smiles and nods excitedly, the two of them falling into more chatter. And it's at this moment that Finn notices Rachel Berry, sitting just out of earshot, drawing stars into her notebook at her desk. "What about you Rachel? Going anywhere this summer?" Finn watches Rachel look up, rather perplexed at the direct addressing to her person. She's a loner much like some of the other kids here at Lima Elementary – she's beautiful, yes – with flowing brown hair and pretty bows. She wears scuffed Mary-Jane's and knee-socks with a pair of jean shorts. A collared button down short sleeve shirt adorns her torso, tucked into her waist in place of her usual sweaters. The weather has changed though, and with the sun – comes the wardrobe change perhaps. Finn watches her with a faint blush as she raises her deep brown eyes to answer curiously.

"No." Emma gives Rachel a confusing glare. Amanda scrunches her eyebrows and her top lip into something far from aesthetically pleasing, Finn thinks.

"What do you mean? Everyone who's someone has plans for the summer, Berry." Amanda's words have an air of mocking to them; Emma Hardwick sinks into her seat. Rachel blinks owlishly and shrugs her shoulders, her pretty hair bow bobbing around her ponytail.

"My daddies don't typically have me visit our relatives because they don't really care for our current living situation. My daddies also work, so no…I don't have any plans. I rather like the idea of maybe going swimming this summer though out by the river, and practicing scales of course." By the time Rachel finishes, she has a wide smile on her face at the thought. It quickly falls, however once it's met with the mocking laugh of Amanda Keeler's shrill voice. And suddenly Finn knows, that Rachel is regretting ever even opening her mouth, a frown playing on her lips. He watches as she sinks back to her notebook – to the solace of her gold stars. Finn has always liked Rachel Berry more than anyone else in Mrs. Geller's class. She's smart, intelligent, kind - and once he caught her humming the tune to "Islands in the Stream" by Dolly Parton over by the portables during recess…and wow, has she got a voice. He thinks she's magical, really – and Finn stares after her longingly, as she pays him absolutely no mind. He'll never deserve anyone as wonderful as Rachel Berry, never in a million years.

And all to quickly just to Finn's left, a sudden hard elbow juts out and into his portly gut, knocking him out of is gaze – the baby fat still jiggling with the inertia and the pain of the sudden assault. He looks up to see the pimpled face of David Karofsky boring into him, and he shudders.

"Hey fuck-twat. Give me the rest of your lunch money, turd." Finn holds back a grimace as he feels the last of his lunch money jingling in his jean pocket. He'd been saving it all day for an end of the year treat over at Mickey's Ice Cream Parlor – a banana sundae with whipped cream, $2.00 for the kid special – but now as he stares into the hard eyes of David Karofsky, he isn't so sure that he'll be making it today. David Karofsky, is twelve, having flunked the fifth grade and fourth grade over the years, he's managed to tower over everyone on the playground during recess. His hard face and thin brown hair framing his maniacal face – he's turned into something far worse than a bully for the children here – he and his cronies have turned into renditions of hatred and evil so vile, that even adults fear to cross their paths. And all Finn Hudson can do is shake his head, lying to the wide boy sitting next to him. Hoping that David won't smell the deceit on his skin.

"You're lying lard-brain!"

"No, I swear – I spent all my money on fruit roll-ups at the hot lunch line." And like a reprieve, Mrs. Geller's voice rings out through the classroom just before the final bell. "Alright class, settle down – you too David." And the elbows stop, and Finn can breath easy for just a few seconds. He chances another glance at Amanda and Emma, the two of them having a debate over which color Skip-It's they have. And directly behind them, still sits Rachel Berry, when he looks over at her he realizes that she's staring at him right back. He startles, and tries a shy smile – and like a miracle, she smiles in return. And Finn Hudson's last day of fifth grade isn't quite so bad.

Brrr—riiinnnnng!

The bell is like the calling for a stampede, as book bags and pencils fly up in a flurry. Finn grabs his backpack and his bag of classwork, accumulated over the year. He waves back after Mrs. Geller as he runs out of his classroom, out into the sunny Lima afternoon. A parade of children surrounds him, all of them with beaming smiles and promises of a fortuitous summer. He sees Azimio Adams approaching from the opposite side of the expanse field, and he bolts around the building quickly, shouldering his belongings as he makes a speedy retreat toward the main sidewalk. He doesn't see any of his friends nearby, no Noah or Sam – and he's sure that they must be pre-occupied with finding their parents, he doesn't worry about it too much as he leaves Lima Elementary with a smile on his face. He turns quickly at the main gate, and there's Rachel Berry…

Standing there with a Strawberry Shortcake backpack shouldering her small arms, her bow blowing in the cool breeze. He stands next to her for a second in his studies, and to his surprise he watches as she turns to him with a short eyebrow raise – it reminds him of Quinn Fabray – that eyebrow…Quinn's in another class however, and he quickly shakes the memory. "Hi Rach." She smiles at him when she hears the short nickname, he thinks she must not hear it too often.

"Hi, Finn." He smiles widely in return now, the both of them standing along the sidewalk – out of the corner of his brown eyes he suddenly sees Azimio Adams and Rick "The Stick" Nelson approaching hotly on his heels. He knows they're on the hunt; he sputters as he stares wide-eyed and suddenly Rachel turns around. And just as she does, he watches as a dark hand reaches out, ripping out her beautiful bow and tearing it the ground, stomping on it with wide feet.

"Piece of shit, Berry." Azimio sneers, and there are a few tears welling up in those deep brown eyes – but she doesn't let them fall, instead she lifts her chin and clears her throat, picking up her ruined bow and making her way down the sidewalk to wait for her father, Finn supposes. And as she disappears, he's left standing in front of them – alone in his fear.

"Hey Dipshit, heard you owe us some money!" Finn shakes his head violently from left to right, and then out of the corner of an abandoned portable, strolls David Karofsky with a cigarette perched between his chapped lips. He has a sneer on his face, and when he approaches he lets the exhale of smoke engulf Finn into a disgusting haze.

"What did I tell you about playing by our rules? Huh, Hudson?" Finn shakes his head again just as a large meaty fist lunges and connects with his wide gut. He wheezes painfully as he crumples to the hard ground, a hand clenched tightly around his middle, the air in his lungs fighting to hold on. Empty tears leak from his eyes as he coughs and drools along the sidewalk – through the buzzing he can hear them all laughing. Laughing at him. That same meaty hand drags him by the ankle, and soon Azimio Adams, Rick, and David are pulling him up in a half upside-down nelson. They shake him left and right; the only sound the clattering of coins and Susan B. Anthonies falling down to the ground in a clutter.

"I always get what I want." David Karofsky's voice is snide as he squeezes him by the neck. They let him go and he falls back to the ground in a heap. With one last kick to his shin from Karofsky, he's left bent and scarred along the ground, angry streaks caking his red face, his pants ripped and torn. He turns around, staring at the empty parking lot of Lima Elementary, watching their band of minions depart in a haze of smoke and devilish intent. He needs to get as far away as possible, before either of them come back.

3

Across the parking lot, and through East Glendale Avenue, emerges Finn Hudson, winded and tired just off of the main drag of Eisenhower. He walks down the hot sidewalk, fumbling to straighten his wrinkled cuffed jeans and Hey Dude t-shirt. He finds his way walking toward McGovern Skate Park a few blocks away, his head bowed as he watches the fake grunge kids and skate-heads roll through ramps and speed-ways. He sits at a metal picnic table off to the side, and he can hear the faint screeching of Smashing Pumpkins blasting out of someone's boom box nearby. Finn however, takes this moment to settle his eyes on the sky overhead, images of bows and light freckles marring the imagery.

Rachel Berry.

He has the intent to sigh, but he covers it up with a weary smirk. She really is perfect he thinks…almost too perfect. Envisioning her soft voice and her warm smile he's brought back down to earth by the butterflies rumbling within his bruised stomach. Because, he knows – that guys like him, don't deserve girls like that. She makes the sun brighter, she makes everything brighter it seems. And he could really care less that she's a loser – he's not much higher on the totem pole, but he won't ever even dare tell Puckerman or Sam about this development. He'd never see the light of day…never again. And so instead, he fancies these thoughts alone, and lets them swirl around in his adolescent mind with images of other things he loves: X-Men comics, and Global Guts, Indians baseball and Blue Jackets hockey. A dopey grin frames his face, and he wishes more than ever that he still had his left over pocket money; a sundae would have been perfect right now.

He scrambles to his feet and fumbles his body down from the picnic table bench, shouldering his book bag with a grunt. He can already feel the bruises tickling his torso as he lumbers away, further down Eisenhower. He doesn't really pay attention to where he's going, but he smiles as he kicks a heavy rock too and fro, his Nike Mega Force's '94 heavy on his feet. He's so engrossed in his musings that he fails to see the three boys straight ahead, loitering just outside of Red's Sporting Goods, a pack of cigarettes shuffled between them and a heavy paper bag holding an Olde English 40 oz. He keeps walking, kicking rocks – he doesn't see them eye him from afar, tracing him with a target sign. A woman with a baby stroller walks by quickly, and Finn recognizes her from his mother's job at the plant, he looks up – waving happily.

"Hi Mrs. Rivetta."

"Oh, hi there, Finn! It's good to see you, tell your mother I say hello okay?" Finn nods with a polite smile, just as his mother Carol had taught him.

Mind your manners Finn Patrick!

"It's a good thing I've run into you – if you and Noah are looking for some pocket change this summer, Mr. Rivetta would be happy to have you guys work on our yard and pool again this summer." Finn smiles brightly, open to the opportunity, and just as he waves a polite 'goodbye' to Mrs. Rivetta and her young son Jason, he lets his eyes waver, and then he sees them…standing there, and he knows in that instant, that they've already scouted him. He's dead meat.

4

"Get that little fucker!" He hears David over the others and he breaks out into a sweat, turning on his heel and bolting down the alleyway between the Pawnshop and Rudy's Candy Store. He can hear them boring down on him from behind and he whimpers as his feet clang with a trashcan lid. People have probably wondered what it was that sent David Karofsky so far over evil's proverbial ledge. Finn's not the only one that the lumbering giant has it out for – no, sir. But Finn seems to be the only one who understands the capacity by which Karofsky will hunt. It happened almost a week ago – it was innocent really, a bathroom break in the middle of state capitals and seals. He couldn't help the fact that his shoelaces on his brand new Mega Force's came untied, scuffing in the dirt. He didn't anticipate having to bend down and re-tie them by the old water fountain near the fourth grade classrooms. He didn't mean to hear anything.

But he did.

A shudder, and a grunt. Something so feral and wrong…that he almost backed away. But his feet carried him to the edge of the far wall nonetheless; his muscles forcing the craning of his neck to the small alley behind the back of the main building. And there, huddled around dead leaves and shady weeds, stood David Karofsky huddled over an issue of Playgirl. Finn doesn't remember seeing much – but what he did see was enough. A sweating Karofsky, back facing him, with his pants sagging too low to be secured around his waist. And that's when Finn… knew.

David Karofsky has a few demons. And when Karofsky heard the crunch of a branch from Finn's traitorous Nike's, he turned his face around in a wild frenzy – and Finn had been sure that he was about to die.

So he ran, hard and fast back to class – forgetting that he had to go to the bathroom at all. And ever since that day, behind the main elementary building, Karofsky's had it out for his jugular – the only thing having stopped him perhaps – being his need to keep face.

But school is out now…and Finn runs with a vigor and a fear unrivalled as he weaves through alleyways, ending up at the dead end of the far bank of the St. Evan. The smell of the Lima dump rifles his nostrils as it wafts in the air from the day's heat and humidity. And when he turns around – there they are waiting for him, the devils minions and David Karofsky with the biggest devilish grin of them all. A switchblade hanging from his grimy hand…

"Looks like you're out of luck today, twat-face." Finn scrunches his eyes to a violent close as he feels four sets of hands grab him by the arms brusquely.

"Thanks for the money, but looks like it wasn't nearly enough for all three of us – so it's time for a lesson, kid." David's breath is thick and hot with the smell of old sweat and moldy hot dogs, his heavy frame bearing down on Finn with ease as an old switchblade glints in his hand. "What d'you say 'Zimio? Should we teach him a lesson?" Azimio Adams nods and laughs something dirty and hollow right into one of Finn's ears, and Finn wishes he where anywhere else but here.

"Nice sneaks, dipshit."

No, no…not my new Nike's. I just got those as a present – No!

They're yanked from his feet, and he sees Rick swap them for his own ratty old shoes. "'Ey these are pretty nice." He trills mockingly as he bounces his heels in them too and fro. Finn can feel the dirt and rocks digging into his socks now, his foot lands into a puddle of stagnant water and he flinches – he wishes he were back home playing his Super Nintendo with the boys – Twinkies and Jolt cola and popcorn in hand while they watch E.T., Alien, and Nightmare On Elm Street. Buried safely under covers with walkie-talkies and stolen issues of Penthouse from Puck's old man's stash. He wishes that he were anywhere else but here. His lips fall into a thin line as he tries to kick one of the bodies holding him, failing miserably.

"Look at faggot flinch." David sneers, his breath so close, that Finn wants to vomit. He feels the cool sting of the blade hitching up the front of his shirt slowly before it bears down into the fabric with a loud rip. The blade falls back – now on the cold flesh of his sternum. "Hey, fat boy. You can't run now."

And Finn bristles, he says a silent half-remembered prayer because he's sure he's about to die – until he hears the back door to Rudy's Candy Shop open in the back alley. The steady footfalls of Rudy Landry the owner – and Finn opens pleading eyes to the old man, desperate for an out.

"Hey get outta here! Get outta here you hoodlums!" Finn feels Karofsky's fingers clench tightly against the knife before dropping it away with a smirk on his face – Azimio and Rick follow suit. Finn watches them advance on old Rudy Landry coldly – and for a split second he sees a familiar fear pass over the old man's eyes.

"Get outta here Karofsky. You're not allowed around these shops anymore, kid. You're bad news." The old man scurries to take out the piles of trash that he's holding and Karofsky keeps smiling. It says a lot when a twelve year old can strike fear in a man quadruple his age – it says…things. And while the three of them are distracted, Finn takes off – missing shoes and torn open shirt, down the small ravine by the St. Evan – heading for the forestry just pass the fence, heading for salvation.

His feet pound into mud and thistles and stream water, and it splashes up onto his face, chest and clothes as he tries to hide, to get away. It doesn't take long before he hears the echoes of David and his cronies somewhere behind him – picking up on his scent. He weaves through trees and grass until he ends up on the forested side of Lima Township, stumbling through trees and trees and trees. He hears the hum of the river nearby, and he knows he's run far into the underbrush. Not far off the echoes of his evil captors can be heard ascending down onto him like a plague and he lumbers on, wheezing, and out of breath until he finds a secluded ravine behind a few bushes. He buries himself there and covers his eyes, hoping that perhaps today – God will save him. And that's when he hears it…when he hears them…familiarly soft voices clamoring away nearby, oblivious to the perils surrounding them.

5

"You can't be serious, Santana. The Red Ranger is the best one out of all of them." Finn knows that voice, it's husky in nature and completely feminine. A mask of long blonde hair and pretty baby doll dresses and sandals – he'd recognize that voice anywhere – everyone who's anyone at Lima Elementary knows about Quinn Fabray. They know about her sister too – that was a sad story if ever Finn heard one, and he shudders at the recollection. It's only been eight months, but the wounds still feel fresh – and he wonders sometimes, staring into the pristine face of Quinn Fabray from across the playfield during lunch – just how she's managed for so long. He wouldn't have been able to do it, not one bit. It's sad really, knowing that about someone – knowing that her parents have stopped attending Lima Episcopal. Knowing all of their secrets. But everyone's got skeletons Finn supposes, and he doesn't fault her for that. Finn burrows deeper under his hiding space, and he watches through gaps in the leaves as a flurry of blonde curls passes by in the near distance.

"Black Ranger owns, you're a pansy if you like the Red Ranger…Power Rangers is for pussies anyway, you might as well watch Barney." Finn knows that voice too, steely and vicious from years of malicious use. Santana Lopez is scary in ways that Karofsky and his cronies could never be.

"Whatever San."

"I'm serious, Power Rangers makes you a pussy."

"That's a bad word, I don't like it."

"Pussypussypussypussypussy." Finn can tell that the two girls are on the verge of more than innocent chitchat as the ire between them rises. And before he can hear Quinn Fabray's retort, he hears…them. Karofsky and troupe approaching, and he wheezes as his bones give a heady jolt.

"Look what we have here 'Zimio!" Karofsky's tone is deep in intent, and laced with all of the bad things that one could possibly point out in the world.

"A couple of carpet munchers."

"Fuck off fart-lickers." Finn notices that Santana is nothing if not brave, maybe even a little stupid for a comment like that.

"What's that?"

"You heard her…leave. We were here first; you can go somewhere else Karofsky. And take your dogs with you." Azimio lunges at the blonde girl before Karofsky stops him with a meaty hand to the chest; he laughs maliciously showing his pointed teeth.

"I like 'em sassy – all the more fun to beat it out of 'em later, Fabray…you seen Hudson around here?" Finn's breath catches as he stares through the gaps of foliage, his socks sticking wetly to the pruning skin of his feet.

"No… and if that's all you wanted you can leave now." Finn hears Karofsky laugh, and through the sunlight beaming in through the trees, his eyes catch the glint of shiny metal, brandished within a few inches of that familiar porcelain face.

"Fine, Fabray – but next time, we won't be so nice, you got that?" And with the flourish of the blade, Finn watches wide eyed as it comes down to scrape a thin line along one of those immaculate cheeks, ending in a bold red line through beautiful flesh. He watches her gasp and clutch at her tarnished skin, and sees with mild horror as the beast within Santana Lopez rises to the surface as she makes for a lunge straight to Karofsky's face. She's caught a second too soon by thin arms and blonde hair – lighter than Quinn's, held up in two identical pigtails. Brittany Pierce Finn thinks, he wonders where she crawled out from.

"That's right, listen to your little guard dog." Karofsky spits on the ground, and as Santana seethes with barely withheld anger, Finn Hudson watches as he walks away back from whence he came – his cronies in tow, all of them laughing with sinister intent. It takes a few moments for Finn to catch his breath, he sputters into the dirt around his cheeks and clutches at his beating chest – he doesn't realize the hold of thin fingers wrapping around his torn shirt from behind, or the way that he's lifted and spun around to stare down into the deep, livid dark brown eyes of Santana Lopez. "Hudson." She bites out, her eyes hold an odd ire, and he flinches within her clutch. He sees now as Quinn approaches to his side – her usual dress abandoned for a pair of jean short overalls and a dirty white t-shirt. Her hair, pulled back into a sloppy ponytail laced with small bits of gravel. Brittany isn't far behind, she comes sauntering up in a flourish, wearing ripped shorts and a green hoodie, smiling at him in that way that she usually does during recess. He thinks that he's always liked her.

"San, leave him alone… he didn't do anything." Finn sighs out a deep breath as he's dropped back down to the ground, he takes this moment to see the faint cut along Quinn's right cheek – the crimson line a stark contrast from the white of her skin.

"Does that hurt? I have a Band-Aid in my backpack." Quinn shakes her head with cold hazel eyes – her expression doesn't change, the only thing fluid about her being a fine blonde eyebrow that rises above her eye in silent curiosity.

"Why was Karof-sleeze following you?" Finn shrugs his shoulders.

"He just has it out for me, I guess." Quinn takes the moment to nod quietly, her expression still stony and extremely intimidating. Finn notices that she must be sizing him up – he realizes a moment too late that he's shoe-less and that his shirt is ripped open from hem to an inch or two below his collar, exposing his chest and gut. A tinge of red works up his cheeks as he lingers within the girls' gazes.

"I like you." Brittany chirps with a smile, and Finn looks at her curiously for a moment before smiling back nervously. "Thanks…you're Brittany, right?" She nods her head with a grin and Santana scowls. Finn doesn't ask for her name, but it's okay because Brittany does all of the introductions for him.

"This is Santana, she's my best friend. And that's Quinn, my other best friend. We were all in Mrs. Partridge's class so that's probably why we never talked to you or anything. But I don't think you're so bad, did you have Mrs. Geller?" Finn nods much more confidently now – he looks up to see that Quinn isn't paying much attention to him anymore, he watches her walk off and back around the bend of bushes from where they came.

"I like Mrs. Geller. She lets me pet the Guinea Pig in her room sometimes when I'm sad. Isn't Rachel Berry in your class?" Finn nods again, a faint blush creeping further up his cheeks as his mind drifts back to the object of his innocent affection. The image of wide smiles, and pretty bows settles him into a pleasant calm as he nods his head up and down.

"Ugh, she's so weird." He hears Santana whine as she gets bored and takes off from where he thinks Quinn left too. He follows her to retort, an ire rising in his chest for Rachel Berry, defending her coolly. "No she's not!"

"No she isn't!" The other sound causes him to stop, and he looks around to see Quinn Fabray around the bend, playing around a rickety fort made of sticks and branches and leaves, her cheeks pink from the unwanted admonition. Finn stares at her curiously for a moment and smiles – because she defended Rachel! Santana just shrugs her shoulders and walks over to join Quinn at their fort. "Whatever, you guys are all weird then." Quinn fixes her friend with a glare as Brittany bounds past him to join in the fort construction. He goes to turn around, having lost all of their attention. But before he can take more than a step away, he hears a clear voice call after him in the air.

"We could use some help, I think. Do you like forts?" And Finn smiles. Already knowing that it was Quinn who spoke out. He turns around slowly and walks steadily back to their trio, one foot falling in front of the other. A smile falling from his lips as he nods.

"Sure."