How did this happen?
When did her life go spiraling out of control?
When did it start to fall apart?
When did things just soar past her reach, so far that there was no chance of catching it?
Was it the first day she met Finn, freshman year?
She remembers. A junior had been bothering her at a party, a party she was only at because Santana dragged her there.
After Santana had gone off to god-knows-where, she'd been alone at first. But then a drunk junior (who even knows what his name was?) had made his way over, stumbling and slurring his words.
"Hey, baby..."
He'd smelled of alcohol, and Quinn had been disgusted.
"What're you doing all alone here?"
She remembers, clear as day, that he had reached out to her bare arm. She's felt his rough hand on her soft skin.
"Wouldn't want you to be lonely..."
His hand on her waist, her trying to twist away. His grip tightening on her arm, and his hand trailing down her abdomen.
Then a tall boy appeared out of nowhere, her night in shining armor.
He steps between them, as if he hadn't noticed the wasted guy trying to feel her up.
Looking at Quinn, he'd placed a red cup in her hand. "Hey baby, I got your drink." A glance at the junior with his eyes half closed. "Hey, man, you don't mind if I take my girlfriend away?"
He'd grabbed her hand and led her away, without another look.
Once they were far enough away, he'd let go.
Quinn looked at him, grateful. "Thanks."
"No problem." She remembers his goofy grin. "Guy's a creep."
"Yeah, no kidding. I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't of showed up."
"I'm Finn....Hudson."
"Quinn-"
"Quinn Fabray. I know."
He'd smiled at her. Before making his way back to his group of friends, he had looked at her nervously. "Um, can I have the drink back though? It took me like twenty minutes to get the nerve to pour myself alcohol."
She'd laughed. "Of course." And handed him the cup.
~*~*
Or was it when she first met Puck, also freshman year?
When one of the hockey players, something Jackson, had been harassing her in the hallway after school, before cheerleading practice.
"Gonna let me hit that, Fabray? Hm?"
She'd tried to ignore him.
"Come on, baby, the connections undeniable."
He was getting too close.
"Let's go, Quinn, the locker rooms right there."
He had a smirk on his face, like it was all a joke to him.
"Leave me the hell alone."
"Ohh, little Quinnys got bite, huh?"
A mohawked guy had been walking down the hallway.
"Leave her alone, Jackson."
He hadn't even looked over at them, but he'd understood what was going on. He didn't stop walking, just casually said it as he'd been walking by.
"Gotta problem, Puckerman? Want her for yourself?"
The mohawked guy barely looked back. "Back off, man."
Whatever Jackson stepped closer to Quinn. "Mind your own business. We've got no problem here." With that, he'd smacked Quinn lightly on her backside.
That seemed to do it.
Her mohawked savior took a few steps and his fist collided with Jackson's jaw.
"God, why are you such a creep?" He gave Quinn a nod, and walked off without another word.
As the years went on, she'd wonder why the Puck she'd met that day was so different from the Puck she knew now.
~*~*~*
Was it when she first started dating Finn?
Was it when she'd let Puck flirt with her that first day?
Was it when she began to flirt back?
When was it that things had unraveled so badly?
Maybe when she flirted with Puck behind Finns back on more then one occasion.
Possibly when she got drunk and turned to him.
Most likely, when she went all the way with him.
It could've been when she'd gone crying to Finn about being pregnant, feeding him some hot tub story.
Or it might've been the months she'd kept her lie going.
Whatever, whenever it was, it had happened.
It had gone so far out of her control. So far that it looked as if there was no chance in putting things back together again.
Her life had tumbled to the ground, because she could no longer hold it together.
There was no one to catch it, because she had driven the only people strong enough to manage, she had driven away.
She was just a kid, really.
She couldn't handle this.
It had all come shooting at her, and the worst part is that it's all her fault.
There was just so much coming at her, and at other people, just because of those mistakes she'd made.
The truth was, it didn't really matter when all this had started.
What matters is what she can do to fix it.