Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of their characters.
10 years. That's how long it's been since I last talked to the people I graduated with. 10 years since I had been back in these halls. 10 years since I had changed my number and deleted my accounts on sites like Facebook or Twitter. 10 years is a long time to be away from people who know the worst about you, who saw you at your worst. But strangely you're starting to think 10 years may have not been enough time. When your mother had forwarded you the invitation to your school reunion you almost laughed. It surprised you people actually tried to get you the message that there would actually be a reunion. Santana you're sure didn't receive one.
Santana is the reason for the 10 years you've separated yourself from a place you once called home. Granted you've been back a few times, but only your mom knew that. She had kept her promises of not letting anybody, but the Lopez's, know when and for how long you'd be back. You're surprised even 10 years later that for such a small town your secret visits have gone unnoticed by anybody but your family. That changes tonight though. Here you are back in the halls you once could part a crowd in with just a single look. The same halls where you fell in love for the first time, where by your locker you had your first heart break, where in the choir room you dealt with a teen pregnancy, the halls that lead to the court yard you once lit a piano on fire in, and briefly during senior year wheeled yourself down. Your location, the gym, is where you once won and gave up the title to prom queen, took you first steps, and spent endless hours perfecting routines for the only other person you ever kept contact with from the town besides the Lopez's, one Coach Sue Sylvester.
If you had told yourself 10 years ago that you would never talk to the people you once considered friends, that you happened to be married to someone you once considered an enemy, married to the first person to break your heart, that your crazy cheerleading coach would ever call you family, that the same coach would give you away at said wedding, and that coach's daughter would one day call you Auntie Quinn you probably would have laughed in your face and maybe slapped yourself. 10 years ago I saw myself becoming a housewife in a small town married to a man who's rich with 2.5 children on the way. I saw myself becoming Judy Fabray. Now I live in Boston because New York wasn't for me. I'm married to someone who has become fairly wealthy on their own, but traded the man for a woman. I'm not a housewife, but a writer who goes by Lucy, a name I once dreaded. I have a daughter that I never raised, but 10 years ago I never did think I'd be this happy. I come to a stop in front of table just outside the gym. I fiddle with the ring on my left finger as I say the name I haven't uttered since my wedding day 7 years ago, "Quinn Fabray." The man looks up at me. I don't recognize him from my days here at McKinley, and I can't help but feel strangely happy at that. I'm here, but that doesn't mean I'm ready to face my past. He looks at me and searches for a name tag and hands it over with shaky hands. I guess 10 years isn't enough time for my name to be forgotten. I smile as I take it and mutter a thanks before turning to head back in time.
The gym is decorated. Photos from our class yearbooks are being presented on a slide show. There's a bar in the back and I head straight towards it hoping not to be
recognized, at least not until Santana gets here. Santana had to help my mom set up her new TV, but somehow managed to talk me into arriving earlier than her. Something about not wanting me to have to deal with cable guy who of course would be late showing up and having my mother nag me into listening to Santana didn't help my case in wanting to wait. I scan the room after getting my drink. The gym is full of people I don't remember mingling awkwardly with each other. I spot a table in a back corner of the room nobody is occupying and instantly make my way towards it. I'm almost to my table pulling out my phone to let Santana know where to find me when she decides to show up when I get spotted. "Fabray!" I hear a voice boom behind me. I curse and take a deep breathe putting up a mask I haven't used in almost 10 years and slowly turn around. "Puckerman." I say with a forced smile.