Somewhere along the way from junior high to high school came the girls. Not that they weren't already interested in him – trust me, they were. Since probably the fourth grade. But my Finny, he was a little oblivious. He remained a little slower on the receiving end of their attention for quite a while (and I was perfectly FINE with that, thank you very much).

My son, I am not at all ashamed to admit and at the risk of sounding like a braggart, is a real dreamboat. Sure, I may be a bit biased, but not that much.

He is the spitting image of his incredibly handsome father, and there are so many times when I look at Finn and see his father's gorgeous amber eyes looking back at me and I just want to cry. Then he smiles his granddad's sideways grin and flashes those trademark Hudson dimples and yes, I melt. (Believe me when I tell you, those dimples have allowed him to get away with A LOT over the years! But can you blame me?) We really can't figure out the birthmarks on his cheek though; I assume those come from my side of the family – he's got my nose and freckles too. Also my chin... but the rest of him is all HUDSON. And those Hudson men all have it going on... even Chris's brothers Carl and Collin Jr have the height, the charm, those arresting whiskey-colored eyes and their father's dimples. I'm well aware that I was quite a lucky lucky girl to snag Chris.

Not all girls consider themselves as fortunate as I felt I was. Some girls are simply attention seekers. Some girls like to play games. My son had already gone on a couple 'dates' with those sorts of prissy little things by the eighth grade (if bumming around the mall or hanging out at the bowling alley with groups of friends is still considered a date – but I've been accused of thinking like an OLD HEAD more than once, so I guess I can't be sure).

Fortunately, he wasn't all too focused on girls in general yet at that time (I honestly think it was mostly Noah's influence that forced him out of his shell sooner than he'd have preferred). Sure, he liked them well enough, but none that he especially fancied all that much or had any deep fondness for.

Finn was always a little shy and backward when it came to girls anyway... and I'm honestly not sure where that comes from. It might be partly due to the Hudson humbleness gene, but I suppose I'll take some credit too, because I certainly wasn't trying to teach him to become some casanova or big-time ladies' man!

Around seventh or eighth grade, there was one girl, I believe her name was Janie Lynn, who was in his science class, and he had sort of a crush on her I think – at least based on the number of times her name came up in random conversation. She'd even been the only girl by that point to ever be invited to our home for our Memorial Day cookout with the neighbors. But she moved away by the end of the school year. That was the last I heard about her – or any other girls for that matter – for quite a while.

That all changed after summer football training camp right before sophomore year started.

Quinn Fabray. That was the new name in our house that I decided I was going to be hearing A LOT about from the first time he mentioned her. I think I knew from the moment he spoke her name, that girl was gonna be trouble.

You see, I already knew the name Fabray from the nursing home scene, believe it or not. Her grandparents owned the facility I worked in for a little while, the one I moved to Lima for. Her grandmother Vivien was the Head RN, and in her late 60s showed no signs of retiring (she was also an incredible bitch of a woman if you ask me). Her husband Lionel owned Lima Lakes Retirement Village and Lima Sunrise Assisted Living, which is where I worked for four years until I transferred to Lima General Hospital for their nursing program to get my own RN training started.

Anyway, their only son Russell and his trophy wife Judy had come in on occasional Sundays to head up prayer groups. Judy in particular took pride in coordinating various events and activities – not that she or her snobby husband ever stuck around to interact with anyone or participate in those activities; they just enjoyed the photo ops for the monthly newsletter that went out to patient families.

Most of their feigned altruism appeared to be just for show, or maybe it was more out of obligation to participate in the family business. Russell also worked in insurance you see, operating his own agency, and was rather well-to-do in his own right, never mind the inheritance awaiting him from the nursing home empire his parents had built.

But I held my tongue and tried to reserve judgment on Quinn. I learned she was a devout Christian and I knew from Noah she was quite popular. Then of course, I could see for myself how extremely pretty she was, with her flawless alabaster complexion, long blonde hair, and eyes like emeralds (the kind of girl I would have been pea-green with envy over when I was in high school). On the surface, she seemed sweet and demure and I can see how she easily caught my son's attention – and probably that of everyone else's sons as well.

Apparently, she was also the head cheerleader. And the fact that she'd captured my Finny's heart was something that was – again, according to Noah – 'fated' since he was the quarterback. I told Noah it was only fated if they were true matches and soulmates. He simply scoffed at me and shoveled another fistful of dry Froot Loops straight from the box into his mouth, tacking on a "whatever you say, Ma. It's just high school, not a Disney movie."

Something about Noah's tone when discussing Finn and Quinn being together (and oh god, the rhyming thing was SO annoying!) didn't sit well in the pit of my stomach; if I didn't know better, I'd say he was jealous... but I'd never known Noah to be the romantic type or interested in settling down with any one girl for more than a few dates at a time (something he seemed to pride himself on – I'd made a mental note to speak to Norah about that).

. . . . .

Quinn's family lived on the wealthy side of town, naturally. I knew Russell and Judy belonged to the Lima Country Club, as did Russell's parents. I also knew that the same club hosted a debutante ball (like what are we, still living in the dark ages of feminism?) and that their two daughters were both 'introduced to society' by the age of fifteen.

These were the type of parents who used their children like accessories to be shown off. They were also well known for their ritzy parties, mostly business mingling with other well-to-do business owners in the community.

I had quite the sinking feeling the first time my son came home distraught, looking for an acceptable suit to wear to one of their hoity-toity parties.

"Finn, surely you're not required to wear a coat and tie to a house party?"

"Mom, all I know is Quinn says it's FORMAL. Which I guess means me in a penguin suit. And we both know how much I hate 'em and don't even own anything except that ugly gray tweed thing from Grandpa's funeral, but I outgrew it like two years and eight inches ago."

I sighed, resigning to the inarguable facts he was presenting. "Yes, you're right honey. I know you need some new formal wear added to your wardrobe. But I also know you hate shopping for simple jeans and hoodies and tee-shirts at American Eagle or Old Navy with me, so the odds of getting you into the Burlington Coat Factory or The Men's Wearhouse for anything more formal have been pretty slim and none up until now."

"Yeah I know, but I really need something now, Mom. This is important!"

"So you're telling me this girl is special enough to merit you going on a clothes shopping trip, for FORMAL WEAR no less?"

"Well... yeah, kinda, I guess. I mean, I like her. And I don't wanna let her down. And Quinn'll be pretty raw if I don't show up dressed right. She's already not too happy that I don't have my own fancy car to arrive there in style."

"Finn, sweetie, is this girl worth this much hassle? She seems to have certain... standards or expectations that I'm not sure fit with us very well. I just... I guess I'm just trying to say that if she doesn't like you for just being YOU, then maybe she isn't worth this much effort."

"No, I know what you're saying, but I think she does, she's just used to certain things, like nice cars and stuff. But Mom, I promise, Quinn's cool. I know she seems a little prissy or uptight or whatever, but it's just... that's how she was raised. She's not too happy with some of the crap her parents force her to do, like showing up for this stupid party for example, which is for her dad's job anyway. We could be going to Matt's backyard bonfire instead but they want her there. They like to parade her around like a show pony. So... now that we're officially dating, she expects her boyfriend to be there. In a freakin' penguin suit."

"Oh... I didn't realize it's OFFICIAL now. So, you asked her to go steady?"

"Moooom... nobody says go steady anymore. Geez, that's such an old-fashioned saying!" Well, pardon me for being so ANCIENT? "But uh, well, we're dating, so I guess by default that makes me her boyfriend. At least that's what she said."

"So you didn't ask her to be your girlfriend?"

"No... but I didn't need to, like I said. She just decided we're only dating each other, so yeah, she's my girlfriend. Are you gonna help me find a suit? Please? I still have some grass-cutting money saved that was gonna cover the cost of the new Madden release, but I don't even know how much a suit will cost. And it has to be nice enough to like, blend in at this thing. Also, I guess my tie needs to be purple since that's what color her dress will be. I don't know why that matters but it's what Quinn said."

"Okay, Finn. I will take you to find an affordable yet appropriate suit with a purple tie. Perhaps the lady expects a corsage for this affair as well? We'll stop at the florist on the way home, just to be safe. And I will cancel my salon appointment to pitch in and help you pay for it."

"No, Mom, I don't want you to give up something for yourself! You deserve to treat yourself, too. You work too hard and–"

"Stop it right now. I won't hear about it, Finn. My only son is going to his first formal affair with his first official girlfriend and her parents, and he needs a suit! That's far more important than trimming my split ends and covering my premature grays. I can always get some more Nice 'N Easy in a box at the supermarket and trim my own split ends for another month or two. Now, no more arguments on the subject. Go get yourself ready; I'll meet you in the 'old clunker' car."

The glorious smile he produced and the warm bear hug he wrapped me in after that were worth more than any amount of money or any day at the salon.

. . . . .

The next three months of Quinn Fabray had been really ...interesting? This girl had been to my home (at least while I was there to know about it) a grand total of three times in as many months. She was always uncomfortably quiet, at least in my presence. She'd been polite enough, said please and thank you and smiled, but she didn't speak to me unless spoken to, and even then it was a little like pulling teeth – unless we were talking about prom or cheerleading. Otherwise, she made me feel a little like we were attending a funeral and I needed to be on extra good behavior for some reason– IN MY OWN HOME.

I wanted to like Quinn, really I did. On the surface, there's no reason why I shouldn't. I certainly didn't want to judge her based on what I knew about her family... Still, call it mother's intuition, but I just didn't feel she and my Finny were very well-suited for one another.

Finn acted differently around her, too. Less relaxed, maybe even a bit frustrated? A little cockier than usual sometimes? I noticed a lot of changes in him once she came into the picture, and I was never sure how much of that change was football-related or high school-related – or how much was directly attributed to this girlfriend of his.

I also didn't like the way she seemed to expect him to jump higher and higher at her beck and call. If she were a different kind of girl, I'd be proud of him for treating her so well, but as it was, I couldn't see any balance in their relationship. I only took solace in knowing this was high school and they were young; these were his growing pains and this thing with this girl likely would not last very long. (I hoped.)

. . . . .

As I mentioned before, Finn was never very in tune with girls in general to begin with. It seemed like he was a little intimidated sometimes, and certainly confused by them more often than not. Dating Quinn only seemed to amplify his confusion, and there was a stretch of time when it felt like every day brought a new (and sometimes weirdly specific) set of questions my way... some of them I still to this day don't understand or know how to respond to...

"Mom, if a girl is yelling at you, and you apologize for whatever you did (or maybe really didn't) do wrong, then kisses you on the cheek and acts like everything's cool, but then gets mad again and won't talk to you because you smiled at her friend just to like, be nice and stuff... What does that mean? Did I – or the guy – screw up? Like, I thought girls liked it when you're nice to their friends."

"Mom, if you tell a girl you think running for prom queen is kinda lame or stupid, is it fair that the guy gets yelled at and called a clueless idiot? Don't girls like honesty and stuff?"

"Mom, why do girls complain about their bras so much? I mean, does it hurt that bad, really? At least they don't have to wear a cup... I think I'd be happier in a bra than a cup. Crap... Please don't ever tell Puck I said that."

"Mom, say a guy asks a girl to hang out and play video games and she says yes, but then when she gets there says she wants to watch a sappy chick movie instead, is it wrong if the guy rolls m– his eyes and tells her chick flicks are lame? And how does it make sense that when she says 'maybe you should just take me home', and then you do, she gets madder about it... like, does that mean she didn't really want to go home yet? Or does it maybe just mean she's having her um, monthly... y'know... thing."

"Mom, what's the best way to say you're sorry when you accidentally drop a girl's iPod in a toilet? Should the guy just buy her a new one, or does there have to be like, flowers and stuff involved?"

"Mom, if a girl says she really likes you, but then ignores you for three days when you make her spill ketchup on her favorite sweater at lunchtime in the courtyard at school – totally by accident and NOT because you were like throwing a football with your friends and not paying attention to where she was sitting – but then gets mad when the guy doesn't call or text her because she told him to leave her alone, does that mean she doesn't like him anymore? Or was I— I mean, was the guy supposed to call anyway?"

"Mom, how come girls don't wear knee socks or leg warmers anymore? Wasn't that like, your style back in the day? 'Cause I think they're kinda cool... and like, sometimes old stuff like that comes back in style, right?"

"Mom, why do girls say one thing when they really mean something else? Like, say a girl, I dunno, said she doesn't appreciate when you stare at her boobs – strictly as a hypodermical example – but then supposedly tells her friends she actually expects you to check her out so she wears like, really tight clothes hoping that you WILL... but then she gets mad because I– I mean THE GUY is checking out someone else's boobs totally by accident and only because he was checking out her really cool sweater with dancing bears on it – again, just an example. Is it fair for the guy to get yelled at in front of everyone and accused of cheating? I mean, was that really cheating?"

"Mom, what does it mean when a girl has like, crazy eyes when she looks at you and you're kinda freaked out by her, but yet, you can't stop thinking about her."

"Mom, if you go to Celibacy club and you have this goofy hugging exercise about holding a balloon between the two of you and the balloon pops does it really mean you made angels cry? And is it okay if the girl goes all chick-batty about it, even if it really was your zipper's fault and totally not because you were being some kinda perv?"

Based on the increasingly unusual context of some of his questions, I was already framing a clear picture of the nature of his relationship with Quinn. It had become quite clear to me that my mother's intuition was on the money and that this girl was exactly who I was afraid she was. Which meant she certainly wasn't right for my Finn.

Only, he seemed far too oblivious to realize it yet... although my curiosity was piqued over the questions involving legwarmers, knee socks and dancing bear sweaters – I can't say as I've ever seen Quinn dress like that. I started wondering if there was someone new on his radar. (I also tried very hard to keep my cool over the staring at boobs thing; I've worked so hard to teach him NOT to objectify women like that! But I realize he IS just a teenage boy after all... there's only so much guidance a mother can give before hormones trump everything else.)

. . . . .

I knew the boys were attending an awful lot of parties by the end of summer and certainly following game nights once the school year and football season were underway. I'm not so naive to believe he would never break curfew; especially on weekend nights when I worked late. There'd be those occasional times when I'd call the house phone to check on Finn and I'd get no answer. He'd try telling me he must've been in the bathroom or was too sound asleep to hear the phone ringing, but I just knew he was off running at all hours with Noah (and possibly with this little blonde primadonna of his) doing god knows what.

Well, I supposed as long as I didn't get called to bail him out of jail and Quinn wasn't turning up pregnant and it wasn't happening on a school night, it was mostly no harm no foul... I did trust my son to make good decisions, even if he was breaking curfew. A lot. You're only young once, right?

After close to four months of dating, Finn seemed mostly happy with Quinn – or content at least. But then, once the school year was in full swing, it felt like something was changing with him again. One day he'd be talking about nothing but Quinn, then other days, he was really withdrawn and quiet. He seemed like he was thinking intensely about something at times, and I tried on occasion to get him to open up, but he claimed everything was fine – even though I swear he was wearing his GUILTY face.

Then there were the nights I could hear yelling coming from his room, and I knew he was fighting with Quinn. I felt in my gut that things were anything BUT fine, but he wasn't ready to talk to me about it yet. Before girls, he used to talk to me about everything that was on his mind like an open book. But since girls and more especially, since Quinn, he was very cryptic and guarded most of the time, if he told me anything at all. A lot of what I eventually learned came from Noah (which usually meant taking at least half of that information as fallacy).

By the second month back to school, Finn was hiding in his room more and more frequently, and I swear he was playing that damn Grease soundtrack nonstop to the point I never wanted to hear it again! Something was definitely going on in his life, I just wished he'd talk to me about whatever it was.

One day Finn asked me out of the blue what's in a virgin Cosmo. I HOPED he was asking for some kind of an apology date (again) with Quinn, and that it was not a sign that he was drinking actual mixed drinks. (Again, the boys were going to a lot of parties, and I've watched enough John Hughes movies to know what goes on!) But I seriously didn't know Finn even knew what a Cosmopolitan was... then again, he has watched a few episodes of Sex in the City with me (the edited for TV reruns on Bravo channel, of course).

Well... whatever he felt the need to impress Quinn about with swanky mocktails, I hoped it was worth the effort. I may not approve of them as a couple, but I'd never try to dictate his love life (well, not too much anyway). As much as I didn't want to ever see him suffer, I knew he needed to make his own choices and, for better or worse, live and learn from them.

I just hoped this thing with Quinn – whatever was happening – didn't end up going the way of driving lessons; broken bones and cars can be fixed pretty easily. But a broken heart? Not so much.

Somehow I realized I probably didn't need to be too worried about Quinn Fabray for much longer. There was one other bizarre 'mom question' he'd hit me with before the real winds of change blew in... looking back on it now, I should've realized there was a hurricane coming. I just didn't know it yet.

"Mom. This is purely a what-if question... but, what if you think you kinda like a girl because all of a sudden you can't stop thinking about her and you wanna kiss her because she's like, sneaky hot, but your friends will think you're a loser for liking her... Do you think it might be worth losing some friends to be with a girl like that?"