"Ordinarily, there is zero tolerance for vandalism at Sybil Ludington Academy. Students have been expelled for similar offenses. However, the poem you painted in the teacher's lounge seems more conducive to weekly guidance counselor appointments and a couple weeks of suspension. I've already spoken to your mother, and she has agreed to pay for the room to be repainted."
"Yes, Ms. Callahan."
Quinn forced a penitent expression. Her mother already paid for her weekly therapy sessions, but she would jump through whatever hoops Ms. Callahan set up for her. Vandalizing the teacher's lounge wasn't the most mature idea she ever had, but the plain white walls reminded her of her father's house, and she had the irresistible urge to mar the pristine walls.
"This will appear on your permanent record, and may have an impact on your application to Yale. However, a repentant essay and your participation in the Glee club, as well as your excellent grades, may make up for it. You are dismissed, Quinn."
Quinn left the principal's office and trudged back to her dorm. She was just down the hall from her room when Rachel Berry's voice interrupted her self-recriminating thoughts.
"Quinn, we should talk about Nationals. I know we're singing 'Luck Be a Lady,' but I was thinking about a duet. I think our voices would blend well together."
"I just got suspended, Rachel. I don't want to talk about Nationals right now."
"I'm sorry to hear that. I know we haven't spoken much outside of congratulating each other when Melodious Mayhem won Regionals, but if you need to talk, I'm willing to listen."
"Thanks Rach, but I don't believe in spilling to anyone but a licensed professional."
"Therapy is fabulous. My dads sent me after I met my birth mother, and the emotional breakthroughs gave a delightful new nuance to my singing. It seems like you could use a friend, though."
Quinn couldn't help grinning slightly at Rachel's obsession with tying everything to her singing.
"Ms. Callahan said I'm only allowed visitors during the suspension if they're helping me study, but I suspect we could sneak some rehearsal in between the irregular verbs."
"Excellent."
Quinn glanced at the back of Rachel's legs as she departed. Her thighs were slim but muscular, and her plaid skirt was very becoming. If only she hadn't ruined the effect by wearing a bright yellow sweater with giraffes on it.
Quinn tried on five different clothing combinations before her study session with Rachel. She was interrupted by a phone call from her mother.
"Lucy, you have such potential. Why squander it painting frivolity on school property? I hope some boy didn't put you up to it."
"I told you, I haven't been seeing anyone since I gave Beth up and broke up with Puck. Don't call me Lucy."
"You haven't exactly been a paragon of honesty in the past."
"Mom, I have a friend coming over to study. I can't have this conversation right now."
Quinn hung up the phone, settling on a light blue sweater and a black miniskirt. She listened to half a Billie Holiday CD and reread the first sixteen pages of The Age of Innocence before Rachel knocked on her dorm room door.
"I hope I haven't interrupted a fascinating passage in your book. Daddy loves Edith Wharton, but I haven't read anything by her yet."
"The book was written in 1920. It features a doomed romance between two married people. I'm rereading it. Ellen Olenska has just met Archer for the first time since childhood. She says she imagines everybody at the opera in 'knickerbockers and pantalettes' and he's appalled."
"What are pantalettes?" Rachel smiled inadvertently at Quinn's jubilant expression.
"Old fashioned underwear."
Rachel chortled.
"I don't approve of married people straying in real life, but there's something intriguing about it in fiction. Doomed romances in general. I adore West Side Story."
Quinn hummed 'I Feel Pretty' in her head, but was determined to mention something less frivolous after her mother's accusation.
"Anita is my favorite character in that musical, but 'Cool' is my favorite song."
"I enjoy the melody and the choreography, but I'm not keen on emotional self-restraint."
"I gathered as much from your performances. That's your strength. I'm not usually like that, I'm afraid."
"We should really study for the exam, Quinn. I can never remember which genes are recessive."
"Wilson's disease, anemia, Tay-Sachs, Cystic fibrosis, hemochromatosis. I use the acronym WATCH. There are other diseases involving recessive genes, but I think we only need to know five for the test."
"Why do you seldom raise your hand in class?"
"I was a bully at my old school. I don't mistreat people that way anymore, but I do have sudden flashes of anger, so I try to keep silent if I feel like I might unleash on someone. When Mr. Brakebills talked about Watson and Crick, I could barely stop myself from yelling about Rosalind Franklin."
"My dads always encouraged my feminism, but I haven't heard of Ms. Franklin. I assume Watson and Crick took credit for some of her achievements? I can't imagine you as a bully, Quinn. Students say harsh things to me here, and I can't imagine you being insecure enough to tear someone down that way."
"You have no idea. I forgot I have to call my mother tonight. Can we study tomorrow night instead?"
"The exam is Friday. Do you really think one night is enough? I have ballet Thursday night."
"Rachel, I'm sorry, but I need you to leave."
