oh, she's gone country.
She gets tired of dinners at Breadstix after the second date. The first time was sort of sweet, because it hadn't exactly been an official date until he had pulled into the parking lot and they had walked inside. (The original plan had been to stop by the grocery store so that Rachel could buy more soy cheese in order to make vegan-friendly quesadillas before they studied for trigonometry.) She had been surprised, and just a little frustrated that he hadn't told her so that she could ensure she was dressed appropriately - not that she ever really dressed inappropriately, but she could have shined her shoes at the very least had she known it was a date.
The second time had been understandable, because there weren't many places open on a Sunday night and he did need to use that gift certificate. (She's still not sure how he got Quinn to agree to hand it over, though she has a suspicion that it might have had something to do with the fact that Noah was no longer hurting for money now that he had mastered the art of extortion.)
But they stop going to Breadstix after that, because there are really only so many times he can expect her to eat plain pasta with olive oil and garlic, and Rachel starts cooking on Friday nights and he learns not to question what's in the casseroles. If he's totally honest, anything is better than Easy Mac for dinner so he doesn't care what she serves.
By the time his birthday rolls around (April 24th), they've been together approximately six months. (He had grabbed her ass at Sectionals; it's a long story and she hates when he tells it because she says it makes her sound cheap.) She offers to cook him something special, even something vegetarian instead of vegan - because she just won't cook raw meat, no matter what the occasion - but he tells her no and bravely ignores the look of hurt in her eyes. He knows she's only trying to be nice, but he's got another idea and he really doesn't want to screw it up. He's really good at screwing up plans. But it's his birthday, so she doesn't complain too much, just asks him what he's planning and makes a face when he won't divulge.
They wind up taking a road trip in his truck, driving hours in the afternoon to make it to Columbus, and she has no idea what he has planned until they pull into the parking lot of the arena and the sudden surge of Wrangler jeans and cowboy hats sets off a light above her head.
"...really, Sam?"
He just gives her a lopsided grin, fishing a familiar set of cowboy hats out of his backseat and settling the smaller one on her head. "Yeah, really. It's my birthday."
She can't help but roll her eyes, laughing as he hands her a paper bag filled with peanut butter sandwiches and Juicy Juice juice boxes (in apple flavor, the only truly vegan option among the brand - she's impressed he remembered her rant about it), and they sit on the bed and eat while people swarm past them towards the door. When the strands of the opening act filter out into the chilly spring air, they make their way inside, finding their seats on the floor amongst the crowd.
Country music is not her forte, no matter how much Sam likes it, and so she feels decidedly out of place while the opening band sings about God and brimstone and fire and the smell of Midwestern fields. But he's grinning and singing along, so she leans up against him and smiles and lets the music wash over her. It's all she can really do. The fact that she recognizes the strains of the headliner's opening song catches her by surprise, though. The name hadn't done much for her, but she'd recognize the song anywhere after hearing Sam sing it any time they got in the car. He's singing at her, and she can't help but smile, so they harmonize over the ridiculously titled She Thinks My Tractor's Sexy until they're both laughing hard enough to make the people around them shoot dirty looks.
The concert goes on long past Rachel's usual school-night curfew, and when the lights go down after the final song, she's near pressed to leave. But Sam looks almost disappointed, and asks her to stay (for him, for his birthday) and she can't say no when he juts his lip out and widens his eyes. It's not fair of him to use that, but she agrees anyway, and they wait out the minutes until the lights come back up with a roar from the crowd and the strains of a song she decidedly doesn't recognize flood her ears. It doesn't help that Sam moves to stand in front of her, an earnest smile on his face as he sings along, sings to her.
Don't that make you want to fall in love,
Don't that look like a picture of us?
A match made in heaven if there ever was,
Don't that make you want to fall in love?
That just makes me want to give you my heart,
Ever forever needs a place to start.
Gotta be a sign from up above,
Don't that make you want to fall in love?
Rachel can't help but smile, soft and affectionate and completely charmed, and suddenly it all makes sense. She beams at him, stepping up on tiptoes to speak into his ear.
"I think I already did."
It's the very best birthday present she could have given him, and somehow, she thinks he planned it all. And she doesn't even mind.
The second time had been understandable, because there weren't many places open on a Sunday night and he did need to use that gift certificate. (She's still not sure how he got Quinn to agree to hand it over, though she has a suspicion that it might have had something to do with the fact that Noah was no longer hurting for money now that he had mastered the art of extortion.)
But they stop going to Breadstix after that, because there are really only so many times he can expect her to eat plain pasta with olive oil and garlic, and Rachel starts cooking on Friday nights and he learns not to question what's in the casseroles. If he's totally honest, anything is better than Easy Mac for dinner so he doesn't care what she serves.
By the time his birthday rolls around (April 24th), they've been together approximately six months. (He had grabbed her ass at Sectionals; it's a long story and she hates when he tells it because she says it makes her sound cheap.) She offers to cook him something special, even something vegetarian instead of vegan - because she just won't cook raw meat, no matter what the occasion - but he tells her no and bravely ignores the look of hurt in her eyes. He knows she's only trying to be nice, but he's got another idea and he really doesn't want to screw it up. He's really good at screwing up plans. But it's his birthday, so she doesn't complain too much, just asks him what he's planning and makes a face when he won't divulge.
They wind up taking a road trip in his truck, driving hours in the afternoon to make it to Columbus, and she has no idea what he has planned until they pull into the parking lot of the arena and the sudden surge of Wrangler jeans and cowboy hats sets off a light above her head.
"...really, Sam?"
He just gives her a lopsided grin, fishing a familiar set of cowboy hats out of his backseat and settling the smaller one on her head. "Yeah, really. It's my birthday."
She can't help but roll her eyes, laughing as he hands her a paper bag filled with peanut butter sandwiches and Juicy Juice juice boxes (in apple flavor, the only truly vegan option among the brand - she's impressed he remembered her rant about it), and they sit on the bed and eat while people swarm past them towards the door. When the strands of the opening act filter out into the chilly spring air, they make their way inside, finding their seats on the floor amongst the crowd.
Country music is not her forte, no matter how much Sam likes it, and so she feels decidedly out of place while the opening band sings about God and brimstone and fire and the smell of Midwestern fields. But he's grinning and singing along, so she leans up against him and smiles and lets the music wash over her. It's all she can really do. The fact that she recognizes the strains of the headliner's opening song catches her by surprise, though. The name hadn't done much for her, but she'd recognize the song anywhere after hearing Sam sing it any time they got in the car. He's singing at her, and she can't help but smile, so they harmonize over the ridiculously titled She Thinks My Tractor's Sexy until they're both laughing hard enough to make the people around them shoot dirty looks.
The concert goes on long past Rachel's usual school-night curfew, and when the lights go down after the final song, she's near pressed to leave. But Sam looks almost disappointed, and asks her to stay (for him, for his birthday) and she can't say no when he juts his lip out and widens his eyes. It's not fair of him to use that, but she agrees anyway, and they wait out the minutes until the lights come back up with a roar from the crowd and the strains of a song she decidedly doesn't recognize flood her ears. It doesn't help that Sam moves to stand in front of her, an earnest smile on his face as he sings along, sings to her.
Don't that make you want to fall in love,
Don't that look like a picture of us?
A match made in heaven if there ever was,
Don't that make you want to fall in love?
That just makes me want to give you my heart,
Ever forever needs a place to start.
Gotta be a sign from up above,
Don't that make you want to fall in love?
Rachel can't help but smile, soft and affectionate and completely charmed, and suddenly it all makes sense. She beams at him, stepping up on tiptoes to speak into his ear.
"I think I already did."
It's the very best birthday present she could have given him, and somehow, she thinks he planned it all. And she doesn't even mind.