I was never into the aspect of romance. Sure I would watch Nicholas sparks movies with my friends and listen to them gush about how sweet the main character was, but I never really felt what they felt. Yet, I would always go along with what they said and did. But tonight when Rachel invited me out to a party, I really didn't want to go.

"Come on Quinn don't be a downer, "my other best friend Santana said.

"Yea Quinnie, you HAVE to come! What if Mr. Right is there," Rachel giggled.

Like I said I really didn't want to go. I could care less about Mr. Right at this point. It wasn't that I couldn't get a guy I mean people always tell me I'm pretty, it's just I don't want a relationship. All I wanted to do tonight was lay on my couch cuddling with the one and only man in my life, my dog Arthur. But when you have best friends as persistent as mine, Friday nights at home alone rarely ever happen.

After an hour of Rachel and Santana poking, plucking, pinching, and painting my face, we left for the club. While Rachel and Santana chose the oh so classy "I'm single and I'll do anything to get a boyfriend" mini dress and 10 inch heels, I stuck with a strapless dress, cardigan, and wedges. Just because I was being dragged to a club doesn't mean I have to dress for the occasion.

The club was packed with people. To them it was a great time with drinks and dancing and people of the opposite gender. To me, it was a glorified meat market. I could just smell the stench of desperation along with sweat and too much perfume or cologne. Rachel and Santana quickly found dance partners while I worked my way to the bar. I was designated driver… again. It's not that I minded driving; really it made me feel safer. It's just for once I'd actually like to drink at the bar; I mean that is what they're for. But tonight I, Quinn Fabray, would stick to my usual Shirley temple.

Santana and Rachel have dragged me to the same bar at least twenty times. The bartender and I are now on a first name basis.

"Hey Q, the usual?" the bartender asked.

"Yea thanks Finn," I responded.

Finn was a good guy. He really wasn't like the usual bartenders. He never flirted with any girl, he didn't make rude comments, and he could actually hold a conversation.

"So, is tonight a special occasion," Finn asked

"Nope, it's just another Thursday," I replied.

Finn laughed and stared out onto the dance floor.

"You know, I've never formally met your infamous friends, Rachel and Santana," Finn said, still staring at something.

I turned to see who or what it was.

"Well, the girl you're drooling over is Rachel, and Santana is over there in the corner."

"Awesome…. I am not drooling"

"Oh Finny Bear I know you all too well, no need to lie."

Just then, Rachel decided to grace us with her presence.

I was just about to introduce her to Finn, but they were already talking. They seemed to hit it off right away. I might have just found Rachel a new boyfriend. I think all the desperation and love was getting to me, I needed some air. I was making my way through the crowd with I walked into something hard.

"Watch where you're…" I looked up.

"Sorry darling, but you're the one who walked into me," the guy smirked

He was about 6'1 and had a Mohawk, which I would usually walk away from, but something stopped me. I realized I was still leaning on him. I quickly backed off and ran my fingers through my hair. He laughed, I liked his laugh.

"I'm Puck," he stuck his hand out.

"Your name is Puck," I asked, shaking his hand.

"Well it's more of a nickname," he smirked.

He had a habit of smirking. I could tell he was one of those cocky player types. I would usually shake these guys off, but once again something stopped me.

"Um aren't you gonna tell me your name," Puck questioned.

"Oh yea sorry…"

I was just going to answer when I see Santana smack her on again/off again boyfriend Matt. This is not good.

"I uh gotta go," I said turning back to Puck.

He looked disappointed for a second then put his bad boy wall up again

"Ok maybe I'll see you around…"

"Quinn."

He smiles "Ok Quinnie check you later." And with that he walks away.

He thinks he's so cool, I roll my eyes.

By the time I make my way to Santana, she's hysterical crying. She's drunk, I figured that be the case. I drag her out of the club and on my way I snag Rachel away from Finn. I get them in the car and we're on our way home. Santana's drunk off her rocker and Rachel's drunk but not that bad.

"Q," Rachel calls.

"Yea, Rach."

"Who was the cutie with the Mohawk you were talking to?"

It figures with my luck she'd see me talking to Puck for all of 5 minutes and think something was up.

"No one Rachel, just some guy I bumped into."

"Quinn before Rachel said you were gonna meet Mr. Right tonight, that guy was him," Santana shouted.

"No defiantly not, he was one of those cocky self centered guys."

"Whatever you say Q," Rachel said. She and Santana smiled at each other.

They were drunk; they had no idea what the heck they were saying. Normally I would brush off what they said, but this time it stayed in the back off my head. Shake it off Quinn you're never gonna see him again. That's what I thought.