𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲, quinn fabray.

004; dylan can play football?

Rachel Berry had just thrown a fit.

Tina had gotten the solo over her, and she made the outrageous decision that it was because of Mr. Schue's own personal vendetta against her. Luckily, the Spanish teacher hadn't caved, only told her that Tina was this weeks soloist, that was final.

"Hey. . .congrats on the solo," Dylan approached Tina at her locker, sending her an awkward, seemingly desperate smile. When Tina didn't say anything—Dylan didn't know if it was due to her being so shy or the fact that she just didn't want to talk to her—she sighed, "look, I know you think I'm a shitty person and all that. Maybe you have a point. But I thought we were actually getting along well."

"Y-You're a thief. You even admitted you're a b-bad person," Tina stuttered. Dylan had always noted in the back of her mind that the stutter didn't sound all that. . .real, so, being the blunt and relatively honest person she was, she glowered at Tina.

"Dude, that stutter's not real. Cut it out." Her words came out much harsher than she had anticipated them to be, but she couldn't take it back now. Tina's face twisted into panic, which made Dylan feel a rare feeling of sympathy. "Shit, sorry. Didn't mean to sound mean. My bad."

"Look, I'm not going to befriend someone who clearly doesn't care about the people she's hurting," Tina said, the tone she was using taking Dylan much by surprise. Disappointed in Tina's answer and in herself, she frowned, slowly nodding her head in understanding. "I've gotta go."

Dylan watched as Tina moved further away, until she was completely out of sight, disappearing into the sea of students. With her back against the row of lockers, she harshly threw her head back in frustration, rolling her eyes, "but I said "my bad"."

"Dylan! Dylan!"

Furrowing her eyebrows, growing confused at the sound of her name being yelled, she turned her head to the other end of the hall, her confused face turning to a much more irritated one as she watched Finn Hudson making his way towards her, clumsily ramming into multiple students as he did so.

"Ugh, you've gotta be kidding me," she mumbled, rolling her eyes. Deciding she wasn't in the mood to attempt to converse with Finn, she proceeded to walk off down the hallway, hoping the quarterback would get the hint and leave.

Finn was not as observant as she wished.

"Dyl-! Dylan!" He continued chasing after her, and she finally had enough.

Turning around, she looked up, ready to question Finn, only for him to knock right into her. He clearly wasn't planning for her to stop walking. "Ow- jeez dude. Do you have any control over your legs?"

"Uh, sorry. I need a favour," he nervously asked, bouncing his knees as he stood, waiting for an answer.

She groaned. Dylan wasn't good with anything that required any sort of commitment towards other people. She'd gotten used to doing things independently, and, when asked for favours or promises of any kind, she often fell back on her word. "For what?"

"Kurt. He's trying out for the football team, and. . .you're athletic, right?" Finn asked, tilting his head to the side ever so slightly as he waited for a reply.

"Moderately so," she answered, staring up at Finn, face blank. She had no idea what he wanted from her but she hoped it was something simple.

"Would you wanna. . .you know?" Finn trailed off, believing she could figure out the rest of his sentence on her own, and all Dylan did was raise her eyebrows at him. "Try out. Do you wanna try out?"

"Gross. Why?" She crossed her arms, her face turning to a look of disgust at the thought of sweaty, ignorant boys being within a 10 foot radius of her for longer than five minutes.