A/N: It's been a long week . . . I am counting down the days left until school is over! Only thirteen and a half for me! What about you guys? I auditioned for two solos in choir this week, which might contribute as to why this week has felt so dragged out, considering that I didn't get them. But it's fine, because I got one in the beginning of the year, so no worries. I've been missing Glee since the season finale, but I'm counting down the weeks until the season five premiere. Enjoy!

The key is to keep company only with people who uplift you, whose presence calls forth your best.

~Epictetus

Rachel kicked off the blanket that was uncomfortably twisted tightly around her body. Upon opening her eyes, she realized that she was lying across the couch, her head plopped majestically on two plush pillows. The first smell that caught her attention was the one of Finn; the distinct odor of his laundry detergent and body wash filled her nostrils. Was Finn here, or was last night just a figment of her imagination.

Turning left and right, examining the room for any other signs pointing to Finn's presence. Her eyes locked upon a sticky note sitting on the coffee table in front of the couch.

Thanks for letting me crash here last night. I had a nice time. Hope to see you again soon.

She read the note frantically, considering the thought of any hidden messages within the the short note. Did that mean he had actually enjoyed spending the night with her, or was he just saying that to be nice?

Last night had been . . . Wow. It was ineffable, unfathomable, and overall romantic. She had had the best night. The most exciting part being when their lips had met and created a fiery spark. The kiss had been more than magical.

But it was only a one night thing. It had to be a only one night thing. Rachel realized how she might have made a mistake inviting Finn to spend the night. They had slept side by side on her couch and had gotten very touchy feely last night. Although they had both pleaded curiosity, they both knew deep down that it had been more than curiosity. It had been a longing, a yearning.

How had he let a whole month pass since he had spent the night at Rachel's house? Right now, he would rather be anywhere but here. He was currently sitting at reserved Breadstix table with his second match. Of course, he had kept his promise with Tina, remembering to reject her and vice versa, but he made sure to keep her wise words in his mind.

The girl sitting in front of him was pretty, sure, but he felt that they had been matched due to their reputation and popularity at their respective schools.

"—prom queen this year," the blonde girl spoke confidently. "I'm sure I will win."

Each year, the boys' and girls' schools were integrated for the junior and senior prom. This was going to be his first year attending prom, because he was a junior. Quinn, the blonde girl in front of him, was also a junior attending the prom for the first time this year.

"Well, I think it's nice that you have so much confidence," Finn stated absentmindedly, "Not everyone has that kind of self-esteem."

Quinn completely ignored his words. "Do you have somewhere else to be?" she questioned with a look of annoyance covering her face. "You don't seem very eager to be here with me."

"Sorry," he apologized, not sure what he was being sorry for, "I'm just not really feeling well right now."

Lie. Lie. Lie. Finn was creating new lies as the conversation between him and Quinn progressed. Just being here with her didn't feel right, something was itching inside him. The thought of Rachel continuously pushed itself up to the front of his mind.

It had been a month since he had actually last seen her; maybe she was mad that he had left abruptly. All he knew was that he had been jerking off to that night with Rachel ever since it had happened. Now, here he sat, hiding himself completely in lies as he talked to this fake blonde.

Her large, round breasts were jiggling in her tight T-shirt, but Finn could care less. Sure, he enjoyed boobs, but fake, jelly-pumped ones? Not so much. Quinn's nose was slanted and angular, but it continued to annoy him. Everything about the girl in front of him screamed artificial and tons of expensive plastic surgeries.

The piercing emerald green eyes watched him carefully, observing every move as he chewed his penne pasta. "So . . . What are your plans for college? If you are looking to go." Finn decided talking about the future was a safe topic.

"I'm pretty sure that I will attend a local Ohio college, and then I will snatch a career as a real estate agent. Life in Lima is something realistic for me, although it has always been my dream to attend Yale . . ." Quinn spoke nostalgically, seeming to live in fear of her own future.

"That sounds reasonable," Finn responded, "I don't really have anything planned out yet, but I will probably start thinking about it more this summer."

Those earthy eyes weren't focused on him though, they were focused on another man who had just walked into Breadstix. His mohawk was styled precisely, and he was holding hands with a busty Latina. Finn was pretty sure her name was Santana.

"Take me home," Quinn demanded, "I can't be here when he is here."

Directing a glare in Puck's direction, Quinn got out of her seat and stormed out of the restaurant. Finn quickly paid the bill and followed, meeting her by his car.

"What happened in there?" Finn asked curiously.

"Puck was my secret boyfriend before we turned sixteen and were forced to begin the whole matchmaking process. We were in love, at least I was in love. Then on my sixteenth birthday, completely out of the blue, he broke up with me. Just like that." Quinn snapped her fingers together to complete the simile.

"Sounds tough," Finn spoke, confused as to what kind of response she was looking for.

"It still hurts to see him around though, considering we broke up less than six months ago. Especially when I have to see him being matched with the unpopular Man Hands. That just hurt me most. I've been crossing my fingers that we would be matched, but no. Instead he gets placed with that Dwarf."

Finn cringed at the insults that were being used to describe Rachel, but he wondered who Rachel was being paired with right now. Allowing Quinn to rant on and on about Puck and Rachel and all her never-ending pain, Finn drove her home. She barely thanked him, and instead just burst out of his car, slamming the door and leaving.

Slightly offended, Finn drove off, and thought about the fact that he would have to date this girl for a whole month. The thought honestly scared him.

"Finn, are you—" Quinn began.

"Yes! I got a strike! I did it!" Quinn and Finn both turned to the left of their alley, and stared over at the couple that was currently using the alley right next to them. The couple was exactly Rachel and another guy that Finn couldn't recognize from this distance.

His blood began to boil as the curly-haired guy bent down and placed a kiss upon Rachel's soft ones. Now wasn't the time to lash out though. Self control, Finn.

Locating his black ball, he picked it up and rolled it down the alley with the perfection that only he had. Not even watching as the pins fell, he walked back over to the pizza sitting at the table. He grumpily munched on a new piece.

Quinn's eyes were trained on that jackass and Rachel, specifically judging Rachel and her wardrobe. She turned around to look at Finn, notifying him with her eyes that Rachel was going to ruin their whole night. Finn pretended to not notice her, continuing to chew his pizza.

"Jesse!" Rachel squealed, "You look so funny!"

The curly-haired asshole was currently balancing greasy slices of pepperoni on his nose. And Rachel was finding it cute. Finn swore he was going to explode.

Rachel was clapping loudly at Jesse's balancing skills, when she suddenly caught sight of Finn. Her first instinctual thought was to wave, but she decided better of it, and brought her attention back to Jesse. She should have guessed; of course Quinn would have been matched with Finn. Popular people go with popular people. Why had she even hoped to be matched with him? Obviously he wasn't interested in her.

Jesse noticed that she didn't look entertained anymore. "Is there something wrong, my peach?"

Rachel truly admired Jesse. Like? Sure. Love? Not so sure. He had assigned her tons of odd pet names that were totally beginning to aggravate her. Was there something wrong with just calling her her regular name?

"I just—" Rachel paused to think of an excuse, "I just need to go, uh, freshen up."

Before Rachel could push open the door to the women's bathroom, a voice behind her made her freeze completely.

"Rachel."

A/N: Of course we all know who this mystery person is. Obviously it's Mr. Schue . . . I'm kidding! It's not, in case you guys can't read my sarcasm. I'm going to go enjoy my long weekend now! I hope you guys will too! I less than three you!