The Red Brick House

Quinn Fabray sat at her vanity, brushing her golden hair. She tilted her head to the left, admiring her profile in the mirror. A soft light shone through her window, glinting off her perfectly hazel eyes. They were just that. Perfectly hazel. She had a small, yet toned frame, and nearly flawless skin. Quinn arose from her chair, and headed out her door to the stairs. As she descended the spiral staircase, she could hear her parents arguing in the kitchen. The altercation was currently at a dull roar, but Quinn knew it would quickly escalate. That's all they ever did anymore was fight. Quinn turned on her heel and ascended back up the staircase.

It was a Saturday, and a lazy one at that. Quinn hadn't even changed out of her sweatpants. She walked back into her room and reached for a black rubber band, and pulled her hair back into a high ponytail, just like she did when she was a Cheerio. Quinn remembered this herself, and a slight frown was quickly painted across her face. Quinn was no longer a member of the Cheerios, and her self-esteem, as well as her popularity, dropped. She did her best to not dwell on the past, but it became overwhelming sometimes. Quinn sat down on her bed and picked up her phone. No messages. "What else is new?" This summer wasn't going quite as Quinn would have wanted it to, but then again, no other time of the year really had either. She was still trying to get used to this new house. Her parents uprooted their family from one side of Lima, Ohio to the other. It wasn't necessarily a big move, but everything felt different. This house has new sounds, new sights, and new things to get used to. Quinn looked over her shoulder at the unopened boxes in the corner. She hadn't bothered with unpacking them. Her parents fought so often now, she never knew when having packed boxes might come in handy.

For some reason, Quinn couldn't figure out what she liked the most about the new house. The wooden flooring in her room, the arched windows and doorways throughout, or maybe the granite countertops in the kitchen, she didn't know. Perhaps it was the way the sun barely peeked through the corner of her east-facing window in the mornings, as to rouse her from her sleep, but not rudely awaken. It was more than cozy, but less than fancy, yet also far more than a family of three needed. Quinn stood up and sauntered over to her door, tracing the wall as she walked.

The blonde was much more mature minded than most girl are at the young age of sixteen, and she knew it. Her mother had described it as having an "old soul." Quinn was soft spoken, gentle, and introverted. She spent most of her time writing in a journal or taking pictures of things that didn't necessarily interest others, but for some peculiar reason interested her. She hadn't yet made the move to digital photography, as she preferred to tote an old Polaroid around her neck. She picked up her camera from the shelf by the door, and walked back over to her bed. She stood at the foot of the bed, lifted the camera up to her eye, tilted slightly to the left, and took a picture of her unkempt bed. The photo came out of the end of the camera, and Quinn grabbed it a wagged it back and forth. It was blurry. It was in black and white. It was perfect. Quinn grabbed a thumbtack from a drawer in her desk, ran up on top of her bed and tacked it on the wall above her pillow. This was the first of many holes that would occupy that wall. She collapsed onto the bed, and scaled the wall with her eyes. Quinn couldn't wait to have that wall filled with photographs.

Her junior year at William McKinley High School was fast approaching, and the girl had no idea what to expect. She wasn't a cheerleader anymore. What would people think of her? Quinn basically lost everything her sophomore year. Her first boyfriend, her reputation, and almost all of her friends, gone. The first day back was a little more than two weeks away, and she was already picking out an outfit and figuring out a way to get back on the Cheerios. How was she going to convince her old coach, Sue Sylvester, to accept her again?

A buzz came from under a pillow on her bed. Quinn set her camera down, and reached for her phone. One unread message. Quinn didn't instantly recognize the number, and was hesitant to open it. She stared for a moment, trying to remember where she had seen it, but couldn't put a finger on it. She opened the message, now just too curious to leave it be. The glow lit up her perfectly sculpted face. Her high cheekbones, prominent jawline, and a smile that could make a whole room stop and stare. The curiosity and sense of wonder rapidly escaped her face as she read. "Hey Quinn…It's Finn. Sorry I haven't been a good friend to you since the break-up. Can we get together and talk about it? Miss you." Finn was literally the last person Quinn wanted to have any contact with. She promptly deleted the message and forcefully tossed her phone aside.

A long sigh escaped the blondes' lips, and a yawn followed soon after. The yelling coming from the kitchen had grown louder and, just as quickly as it came, subsided. Quinn arose from the bed, and again walked out the door and down the staircase. She held the black metal loosely as she made her way towards the living room. She was met at the foot of the stairs by her father, beer in hand, with a cocked eyebrow.

"Quinn."

"Hey, dad."

"You've been spending an awfully long time in that room of yours. Why don't you ever go out with your friends?"

"Not in the mood to, I suppose"

Her dad let out a soft hum, and scratched at his five o' clock shadow.

"Well, come out of your cave every once in a while and act like we're a family."

"I will once you start."

Russell had suddenly become speechless. He pressed his lips together and gave a slight nod in her direction. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He looked down at his beverage, took a drawn out sip, and walked away from his daughter. Quinn watched him walk up the stairs, secretly hoping he'd trip and spill his beer all over himself, and was slightly disappointed when he made it all the way up without a drop spilled. She walked into the kitchen, where her mom was slouched over, with her elbows on the counter, cradling a glass of wine in her palms.

"I'm sorry you had to hear that, Quinn."

"I tuned it out. I was more interested in thinking about school."

"You're going to go back, aren't you Quinnie?" Judy asked with a concerned look on her face.

"I'm not going to let some stupid boy or a fascist cheerleading coach keep me from getting an education. I want to get out of this town someday, you know." She cocked an eyebrow at her mother, who shot her an approving glance.

"I know you do sweetheart. Still aspiring for Yale?"

"Everyday." Quinn made her way to the pantry and grabbed a small bag of pretzels.

"Good. Don't ever give up on that."

"Thanks for the pep talk mom." Quinn dispensed the snack into her hands, threw the packaging away and headed back up into her room. "Thanks for everything."