The dorm party was loud and crowded and Quinn Fabray did not know a single person there. She crisscrossed between drunken fights, rowdy shouting and couples kissing as she made her way down the hallway towards the exit. She had been stupid to come here on her own. She should have stayed in her own dorm room and watched the Say Yes to the Dress-marathon with her utterly boring roommate Tina instead. This had been a mistake. She should go home and call Finn and take back everything she had said and…

She carefully stepped over a guy passed out on the linoleum floor and doing so, bumped into someone also trying to evade the unconscious teenager. The guy she bumped into was holding a drink and as they collided, it spilled all over her overly ironed dress and stained it light yellow. She jumped back in shock and looked down at chest. It was the dress her mother for her for her graduation party.

"Shit", the guy said. "I'm sorry."

She didn't look up to face him, didn't want to show him the tears in her eyes.

"It's just beer", he went on. "It'll wash out, I promise. Don't cry."

She wiped her face with the back of her hand, still trying to hide the fact that fat tears were building in her eyes and just waiting for her permission to drop down her cheeks.

"It's fine", she mumbled. "It was my fault."

"Just take it off and let it soak for a little while", he went on, as if he hadn't heard her. "Here, take this."

A white napkin appeared in front of her eyes that were still staring at the floor. She took it and pressed the starched paper to her face. The white turned black and orange by the touch. She crumbled the napkin up and held in her closed fist, not wanting to show him how much makeup she was wearing.

"I really am sorry", he said again and this time she looked up.

He was a guy. Brown hair. Tanned skin. Wearing a green t-shirt and jeans. Holding an empty beer bottle.

"It's fine", she repeated.

It was fine. It wasn't like she was crying about a stain. It might be her graduation dress but it had been dumb of her to wear it to a college party. She looked like she had stepped out of a Macy's catalogue while everyone else was in sweats.

"Is it your favorite dress?" he asked.

"No", she replied. "It has just been a really bad week."
"Ah," he smiled. "Freshman orientation, huh?"

"I guess."

"I hear that it's tough."

He tilted his head and looked more carefully at her. She looked down again, imagining make up smeared across her entire face.

"Should I get you another beer?" she asked. "To replace the one I made you spill?"
"No, it's fine", he replied. "I was just leaving. Good thing you made me spill it or I wouldn't be fit to drive."

"Oh", she mumbled. "Good, I guess."

"Do you need a drive home?"

"I live just across campus."

The guy on the floor, the one who had caused all this, suddenly shifted and threw up on the floor, inches from Quinn new shoes.

"I'll drive you", the guy said. "I need some good karma after tonight."

"Okay", she said stupidly, desperately wanting to get away from this party and these people and the mess on the floor.

"I parked just outside, come on."

He drove a pickup truck. Like it was the fifties. Or the south. It wasn't. It was 2015 in Ohio. At least it looked clean. Quinn hated riding in dirty cars.

"Where to?" he asked.

"Miller House", she said. "Do you know it?"
"Yeah", he said, clenching his jaw. "I do. We will have you home in no time."

He drove slowly on the narrow campus roads and stopped completely when a gang of drunken girls stumbled on the sidewalk outside one of the fraternity houses. He patiently waited until they all had made it across the street while his fingers tapped a rhythm on the steering wheel.

"What's been so tough about the first week?" he asked.

"Just… stuff", she replied.

"Not what you expected? College, I mean?"

"I don't know. I just… thought it would be more fun."

He laughed at that.

"When is school ever fun?"

His tone was kind but she felt humiliated anyway. Like a naïve, little freshman. He was probably a junior or a senior. Blasé about the college life. Laughed at girls like her.

"Not school", she said and tried again. "I guess I just had bad luck with my roommate."

"Oh, that's bad."

"I'm sure it will be fine."

"What is she like? Mean? Old? Kleptomaniac?"

"She's just… boring. Very religious. Very dedicated to her studies. Only wears grey."

He laughed again. This time she smiled too. It was the first time all week. It was nice to hear another person laugh at something she had said."Here we are", he said, pulling over outside Miller House. "You have your keycard and everything?"
"Yes", she replied. "Thank you."

"Sure."

She unbelted her seatbelt and slipped out through the car door and down onto the ground.

"Thank you again", she said and he waved at her.

"I hope it gets better", he told her.

"Me too."

It wasn't until she was punching in her code and unlocking the door that she realized that she had forgotten to ask for his name.

She was still thinking of him as she walked up the stairs and almost, again, tripped over someone on the floor. This time it was a girl. A crying girl. No, a weeping girl. She was tiny with long, blackish hair and was wearing a red dress. Quinn wanted to step over her, just like she had the guy at the party, but she couldn't. It wouldn't have been right.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

The girl looked up at her and the sadness in eyes was replaced by anger.

"Leave me alone", she growled.

"You shouldn't sit on the cold floor", Quinn said.

"Thanks for the tip."

But the anger was giving away for sadness again and the girl sobbed into her bare hands. Quinn crouched down next to her. The stone stair was ice cold and almost burned against her bare thighs.

"Are you okay?" she asked, because what else was there to ask?

"No", the girl whispered. "No."

"Are you homesick?"
Tina was homesick all the time. Quinn was too, even if she wasn't as vocal about it.

"No", the girl replied. "I wish."

Quinn didn't know what else to ask. She carefully reached out and patted the girl's arm. The girl squirmed away, as if Quinn was contagious. She sighed. If the girl didn't want help… She stood up again and examined the beer stain on her chest in the bright staircase light. It would probably need a good soak.

"My boyfriend broke up with me", the girl mumbled.

"Tonight? I'm so sorry."

"No, not tonight. But… it's a long story. I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay", Quinn said. "But you shouldn't stay here. You'll get a urinary infection."

"My roommate is crazy."

"So is mine but I think she's still up watching TLC."

"Okay", the girl said. "I don't want to be alone anyway."

Quinn extended her hand again and the girl let her pull her to her feet. She looked utterly disheveled.

"I'm Quinn", Quinn said, not wanting to forget to tell a second person that tonight.

"I'm Santana", the girl said. "And I'm not usually this way.

No, Santana was usually not that way. After crying her way all the way through Masterchef Australia, she blew her nose and began to talk. And never stopped. She talked about everything. Her psychotic roommate, all the classes she hated, the movies she loved and the books she hadn't bought yet for classes she already hated. Quinn loved it. She loved being talked at. Tina put headphones in and ignored them. They stayed up late, on the floor of Tina and Quinn's dorm room and talked. Quinn felt like she had been silent for decades. She had so much she needed to stay, to vent, for someone to hear.

"You're the first normal person I have met here", Santana said around 3 am.

"You're the second sane person I met", Quinn said.

"Who was the first one?"

"The guy who spilled beer on me."

"Sounds like a stellar guy."

"Do you want to talk about your boyfriend?" Quinn asked.

"No", Santana said.

"You can, you know.

"I don't want to."

"Okay."

They fell asleep around four in the morning, Quinn in her bed and Santana on the soft rug on the floor. Tina got up at six to study and woke them up.

"Who gets up at six on a Sunday?" Santana snarled.

"I need to leave for church at eight", Tina snapped back.

Quinn rolled over in her bed and went back to sleep. For the first time in a week, she didn't dare waking up again.

Santana woke up hesitant and distant and Quinn could tell. They ate breakfast together in silence, staring down in their bowls of cereal and chewing on fresh fruit. It felt like a morning after. As if everything they had done last night had been a mistake.

"I'm not usually like that", Santana finally said, again.

"Okay", Quinn replied.

"I'm not the kind of girl to cry over a guy."

"Oh. Okay."

"Are you?"

The question sounded mildly accusatory. Quinn felt herself scowl. She hadn't scowled at anyone in a week. She had in pleasant-mood ever since her mother dropped her off on campus.

"What if I am?" she retorted.

Santana raised her perfectly plucked eyebrows at the tone of Quinn's voice.

"You can be anyone you want."

"Wow, thank you."

Santana finally smiled. Her eyes twinkled the cold and bright lighting of the cafeteria. She raised her cup of coffee and clinked it against Quinn's.

"You're not very nice, are you?" she asked.

"Why would you say that?"

Santana kept smiling. She seemed to finally let her shoulders drop and exhale. Quinn kept on scowling. It felt nice not being polite for a minute.

"I was afraid you might be a nice girl", Santana said. "Nice girls bore me."
"I am a nice person", Quinn argued.

"You might be nice in a 'is good to your mom' and 'goes to church' kind of way", Santana went on. "But you're a heartbreaker, aren't you?"

"I have a boyfriend", she said, as if that answered the question.

She sipped her coffee in silence without breaking eye contact with the girl on the other side of the table.

"I'm not the kind of girl who gets heartbroken either", Santana said. "Well, not before now."

"Why did you break up with him?"

"I don't want to talk about him", Santana said. "Never again. I'm going to forget him. I'm going to find somebody else. No, five somebody elses. At least."

"Fine", Quinn said.

She thought of Finn. Back in Lima, Ohio. What was he doing? Did he miss her?

"If I wasn't good enough for him, I'm too good for him", Santana said, sounding like Cosmo.

Quinn made a mental note to call Finn when she was done with classes for the day.

He sounded just like he always did. Happy. Steady. He asked about classes. About her roommate. About the party. ("That was the dress your mother bought you for graduation"). About Santana. She told him. He laughed at all the right places. He asked for more details. When she was all out of words, he sighed in longing.

"I can't believe you're not coming home until November."

"I know."

"I miss you."

"I miss you too."

"Maybe I can come up and visit you?"
"Yes", she said. "Please do."

But he never would. It was a four-hour drive. He worked Monday through Friday at the auto shop and took weekend classes at the community college. He didn't have the time or money to drive to see her. And where would he sleep? You weren't allowed to host guests overnight, definitely not male ones.

"The guys say hi", he said.

"Say hi back", she said back.

"I'm sure it will work out, with your roommate and the dress and all."

"Yes", she said and has to remind herself to ask him questions back. "I hope so. What's going on back home?"

"Nothing, really", he replied and she believed him.

"How are classes?"
"Slow", he said. "In this pace, I'll have a degree in fifty years."

"You're saving up for school", she argued. "This is just for the meantime. Getting some credits."

"Sure."

For the first time, he sounded unhappy. She hated that. It made her feel guilty. For leaving him behind. For actually enjoying college. It had been easier that first week when they had both been unhappy.

"I'm counting down the days to Thanksgiving", she said, not knowing if it was true or not.

"Me too", he said, and she could hear the honesty in his voice. "I love you."

"Love you too."

They hung up. Quinn looked around her tiny dorm room. Tina was watching Sister Wives. She could join her. Or…

"I'm going over to Santana's", she announced.

Tina didn't look away from the TV.

"Okay."

Quinn didn't even reach Santana's door before she saw her. She was coming towards her in the hallway, holding her purse.

"I'm going over to Connor House", she called. "Wanna come?"
"Now? It's nine already?"

"Luca says that he can sneak us in."

Quinn hesitated. She didn't want to get into trouble. But she didn't want to watch yet another TLC show with Tina.

"Okay", she said. "Let me grab my keycard."

Quinn wasn't used to having a friend. No, that wasn't true. She had loads of friends back home; girls that she had grown up next to, literally, with their backyards facing each other. She had been a cheerleader, a ballet dancer, and a part of Christian congregation. But now, it felt like it, perhaps, she had never really liked any of them. Rachel only spoke about things Quinn didn't care about and always fought her Finn. Brittany was sweet but dumb and uninteresting. And Kitty had always wanted to be Quinn, rather than be her friend.

It was different with Santana. They almost never agreed about anything but Quinn had never felt so similar to another person before. Over the next couple of weeks, they spent more time together than Quinn ever had with a friend. They ate every meal together, studied next to each other in library and Santana even changed some of her classes to match Quinn's schedule. They were constantly either bickering or quiet. And for the first time, Quinn felt like she didn't have all the power in a relationship and it was oddly thrilling. Kitty had never stood up to her. No one had. Not even Finn. Santana did nothing but stand up to her.

"Why are you fighting me over this?" Quinn asked her one night when Santana was insisting that Ryan Gosling was ugly. "Everyone knows that you are wrong."

"I'm fighting you, Quinn Fabray", Santana said. "Because I can tell that no one ever has before."

"That's not true", Quinn argued.

"You're too pretty and too spoiled for your own good."

"You're full of yourself."
They finished watching Crazy, Stupid Love in silence. When the credits began to roll, Santana playfully punched Quinn's shoulder.

"At least you and I will never fight over a guy."

"I have a boyfriend"
"You're a Gosling kind of girl. And I'm… more of a Pablo Escobar kind of girl."
"Who is that?"
Santana snickered.

"Look him up."

Quinn did later. He was a Colombian drug dealer. And not that handsome. She never figured out if Santana was fucking with her or not.

"Why do you spend time with Santana?" Quinn's roommate Tina asked one night. "All you do is fight."

"It's not all we do", Quinn protested.

"You don't even seem to like each other."

"It's… just the way we talk."

Tina didn't understand. She hated Santana and everything she stood for. Quinn couldn't exactly blame her; Santana wasn't very kind to the timid Tina. Santana would tease her about her clothes, her faith and her complete lack of friends. Quinn didn't really like Tina either but had defended her more times than she could remember by now. And it was only October.

"Does she always have to come here?" Tina asked. "Why can't she watch a movie in her own room?"

"Her roommate is crazy."

Tina looked suspicious.

"Crazy, how?"

Quinn shrugged. She didn't now. Santana only ever said that Myra, her roommate, was "crazy". No details. Quinn had never asked.

"I'm having a study session tonight", Tina went on. "Could you and Santana not be here then?"
Quinn nodded.

"We're going out anyway."

"And please don't turn on the lights when you get home."

"That's not me, it's…"

"Santana, I know. I'm just saying."

Quinn smiled apologetically.

As they were on their way to the frat party that Santana had invited them to, Quinn brought it up again.

"Do you have to be so mean to Tina?"

"I'm not mean to her", Santana retorted.

"You are."

"I'm just telling her the hard truths."

"Whatever. Just be nicer, okay?"
Santana rolled her eyes but didn't argue. She was only wearing a mini dress with spaghetti straps, despite the cold weather. At least Quinn was wearing a coat over her clothes.

"Who did you dress up for tonight?" Quinn asked.

Santana had forced her to change out of one of her skater dresses and into a tight skirt and top. She didn't feel like herself at all. The top kept riding up and she kept fighting to keep it down. She had to unbutton the coat to pull on it after every step.

"No one", Santana replied, stopping to fix Quinn's top for the eighth or ninth time. "Stop fidgeting with it."

"It keeps riding up."
"Who cares? What's so wrong about showing a little skin?"

"I'm pale."
"So what? No guy cares about your skin tone."

"Easy for you to say."

Santana's golden skin seemed to keep its glow all through autumn while Quinn felt almost see-through by now. She felt more secure in the cute dresses her mother had bought her at Anthropology.

"Who is the guy?" Quinn asked again.

"Julian", Santana replied. "He's in our Biology class. Dark hair? Tall? Sits in the back?"

Quinn tried to remember if she had ever noticed a dark haired Julian sitting behind her as she were dissecting frogs. No. No recollection.

"When did you talk to him?"
"After class. You went to the bathroom, remember? His friend, Kyle, went too. Julian and I were left outside. Kyle's going to b there too. He's kinda cute too. Blonde, more your type."

"I have a boyfriend."

"Whatever."

"My boyfriend's not blonde."

"Whatever."

"No, not whatever."

Santana ignored her.

"What happened to Luca?" Quinn asked.

"What do you mean?"
"Weren't you seeing him?"

"We weren't married, Q."

"No, I know but…"

"I'm having fun. You should try it."

It was Quinn's time to ignore her.

Julian looked exactly like Santana's type. He smoked a joint and played the guitar at the same time. Santana sang along with the song. Quinn would have never had dared to sing in front of thirty frat guys in their twenties. She sat on the couch, stiff as a board, drinking beer through a straw. Kyle, who apparently was also in her Biology class even though she could swear on the fact that she hdn never seen him before, tried to hit on her.

"So, where are you from?" he asked for the third time.

(He was very drunk.)

"Ohio", she said. "And you're from Tulsa."

"How did you know?" he giggled.

He wasn't her type. Quinn had showed Santana pictures of Finn and Kyle looked like his complete opposite. Short, blonde and wiry. Not that she cared what he looked like. She had already had her Finn.

"You told me. Three times."
He draped her arm around her and she swiftly moved away. His arm fell limply against the backrest of the sofa. She deeply wanted to enjoy herself, to be more like Santana, but she couldn't. She hated the lull of stoned guys talking about "deep" things. She hated the crappy rap metal that was playing in the background. She hated feeling out of place when Santana could fit in anywhere.

"Santana told me that you like me", Kyle suddenly said with the kind of candor that only self-entitled guys could muster.

"Well, I have a boyfriend."

"Is he here?"
"No."

"Where is he?"
"Ohio."

"Then I don't think he would know if you let me kiss you…"

She got to her feet. Santana was half-draped over Luca's chest as they kissed slowly, both completely stoned. Quinn sighed, texted Santana that she was leaving and headed for the door. She thought of the night, mere weeks ago, when someone had spilled beer on her shirt and then driven her home. She wouldn't mind if someone spilled something on this horrible top. And she would really like a ride home. She called Finn, just to have someone to talk to as she walked across campus alone. He didn't pick up. He was probably already asleep. Quinn hoped that Santana would get over her ex soon. She was sick of leaving parties alone.

When she arrived back at their building, a figure was leaning against the main door. It was a big figure, muscular and male and Quinn back up before he could see her. In the light from the cigarette he was smoking, she could see that he had headphones in. She hovered a few feet away from him, in the darkness, for a few minutes, hoping that he would go away. He didn't. She was freezing cold and that damn top of hers wasn't exactly doing anything to keep her warm. Finally, she was sick of it, reached for her keys and the small canister of pepper spray that her mother had given her.

"Excuse me", she said loudly as she approached the man.

He didn't hear her and leaned heavily against the door she wanted to open.

"Excuse me", she repeated, almost yelling now.

The man straightened up and pulled out the headphones.

"Sorry", he said. "I didn't hear you."
Standing right in front of him, she recognized him vaguely. Strong jaw. Shortly cropped hair. Wide shoulders. Maybe he was boyfriend to one of the girls in the dorms. She might have seen him in a photo.

"I can't let you in", she said. "It's against policy."

"Don't you remember me?"

"Sorry?"

She didn't even pretend to sound polite. She had heard the pickup line too many times to fall for it yet another time.

"I drove you here. First week of classes. After that terrible party, do you remember?"

She studied his face closer. Yes. It was him. She could tell now.

"You spilled beer on me", she said.

"Hope the dress recovered."

"It did."

"Good."

"I still can't let you in."

He pretended to slump his shoulders in disappointment.

"I promise I'm not a psycho killer. I just want to see my friend. She called me earlier but now she won't answer her phone."

"You're friend might be asleep already."
"Maybe. I just want to see if she's okay."

He seemed like a nice guy. He had driven her home that one time, without even flirting with her. And he didn't seem like a liar.

"Please", he begged. "I've been waiting for an hour."
She caved. It was something about his face.

"Okay", she said and unlocked the door with her keycard.

They walked up the stairs together. He had to stop at every floor to check the names of the people living there. He clearly hadn't been here before.

"Are you going to find your way?" she asked.

"Yeah, sure. Just haven't been here in awhile. Can't remember what floor."

"Okay, let me help you."
"No", he said, giving her a half-smile. "You've done enough. Thank you. I am eternally grateful."

"No problem."
He held out his hand her. It looked big and gruff in the pale light from the staircase lights. She shook it.

"I'm Puck", he said. "You can call me Puck."

"I'm Quinn", she said.

"Nice to meet you again, Quinn."

That could have been it but minutes later, when Quinn was emerging from the bathroom with her toilet bag in her arms, she saw him again. He was sitting outside her room, listening to music again. She wondered if she was to be afraid of him now. He could probably wrestle her to the floor without straining a muscle.

"Hello", she said uncertainly, missing her pepper spray just a little bit.

He looked up at her. Light eyes. No, dark eyes. No, something in between.

"Hi", he said. "Sorry. She wasn't here. I think she's out."

"Okay", she replied slowly.

"I'll just wait for her inside, if that's okay."

"Inside my room?"

"Inside the building."
"Oh, that's fine."

He stayed on the floor and she stayed standing, watching him. The building was so quiet. Everyone was asleep or out getting laid like Santana. It seemed like they were the only ones there. Except Quinn knew that Tina was asleep on the other side of that door.

"You're not waiting for Tina, are you?"
"Tina?"
"She's my roommate."
"No, I'm not looking for Tina", he said. "I just wanted to tell you that I am waiting inside."
"The building?"

"Yeah."
"Okay."

She contemplated stepping over him, going into her room and just sleeping. He was not her problem. He was someone's problem all right with that face and those clothes and the cigarette he had smoked outside. But not hers.

"You can't wait here", she sighed. "Someone's going to see you and report it. You'll get me in trouble."

"Oh. Right."

"My roommate is asleep so you can't hide in my room."
"I get it. I'm an inconvenience."

She sighed again, heavily and he looked guilty for the first time. He stood up and pulled his leatherjacket closed over his chest. Puppy dog eyes. Yes, clearly, he had the potential of being many girls' problem.

"I'll just wait outside."
"Can't you just go home? She'll call you in the morning."

"She won't. And she was crying…"

"Okay. Let's wait then. I'll stay. If someone finds up, we'll come up with something. Just let me get some blankets."

She sneaked inside to get a blanket and her own duvet from her bed. She gave Puck the blanket and watched him pull it closely around him. He was a handsome guy. Not in her type. Too bad boy. Too much of muscle and black clothing and piercing eyes. For the first time, she felt unconscious about the fact that she had already washed all her makeup off and was wearing sweats. Not that it mattered. He was here to see someone else. And she had Finn.

"Thanks", he said.

"Sure."

They had nothing to talk about and still the hours seemed to pass so quickly. They were the same age (she never would have guessed), he worked in construction and played the guitar. He lent her one of his headphones and played her all kinds of music she had never heard before.

"Bob Dylan is the ultimate musician", he said.

"I believe you", she replied, because it was now four in the morning and she was somewhat delirious.

Sometimes she nodded off and woke up at few minutes later with him sitting quietly next to her. Sometimes, often when they were listening to long, slow songs, he just his eyes too. They were terrible at watching out for someone who might report them.

"What's your major, Quinn?" he asked around five.

"Undecided."
"Huh."

"What's wrong with that?"
"Nothing. I just pegged for the pre-law kind of person."
"Why?" she asked.

"Something about the hair and the dress", he said, which explained nothing.

"I'm not even wearing a dress."

"No, that white dress. High necked and below the knee and almost ruined by beer."
She frowned at him. He was making fun of her. She hated being made fun of.

"Don't get mad", he pleaded. "I'm sure you got an impression of me. Let me guess? Delinquent? James Dean complex? Daddy issues."

She had to laugh at it.

"What about you says 'daddy issues'?"

"Maybe just my behavior."
"I don't know you well enough for that yet."

"I guess not."
"So, what was it? What did you think of me?"

"I think I was too caught up with my own drama to even notice you much", she said, kind of honestly.

"Ouch."
She was so tired now. Sleepy. And his shoulder was broad and it would be so nice to lean her head against it. Just for a little while. Because he was evidently a nice guy and belonged to one of the other girls and she had Finn.

"You're falling asleep", he noted. "I'm sorry I kept you up."

"It's fine", she mumbled.

"I should go. She's clearly not coming back tonight."
"Sorry."
"No", he said, half-smiling. "It's not like that. I'm not upset."

He helped her to her feet and handed her the blanket. His body heat had warmed it up and she held up against her face to feel it.

"Thank you", he said. "For letting me in."

"Sure."

She wondered if he was going to hug. Maybe even try to kiss her. Ask for her number? She didn't want to end their night like that. She didn't want him to be another Kyle.

"Good night", he just said.

"Good night", she said back.
She watched him leave before going into her room and collapsing on her bed.

"Where you all night?" Tina accusingly asked her from the other side of the room. "I was worried."

"I was just right outside the door."

"What?"
"Good night, Tina."