Her life is a jigsaw. The picture of her future is laid out for her, and all she has to do is piece it together.
On her first day of high school, she wakes up early, the sun that's streaming through the crack in her curtains casting a spotlight over her slender form. She sits up, feeling confident and tentative and excited all at the same time. Brushes her teeth. Splashes her face with cold, refreshing water. Dusts her cheeks with blush and painstakingly applies eyeliner and mascara and her favourite shade of lipgloss. Then she surveys her reflection carefully, making sure every last hair is perfectly in place.
She's ready.
…
There it is. Looming above her, the building where she'll spend the next four years of her life. Taking a deep breath, she pushes open the door. It's time for McKinley High School to meet its new head bitch.
She enters the school for the first time with her head held high, sauntering along the hallway as if she owns the place. She will, soon enough. Their eyes are on her, she can feel them, the appreciative stares of every male in the building, the envious glares from the girls. As she glances to her left, she catches the eye of a tall, gangly boy, about her age from the looks of it. He's kind of cute, she thinks. After all, if she's going to be the queen around here, she'll need a king.
The bell rings then, shattering her moment of glory, but she knows that McKinley is all but under her rule already. Allowing herself a small, indulgent smile, she makes her way to class.
Her first day is a huge success; her peers flock to her, and she's asked to lunch by about twelve different people. She sits with the popular kids, of course. Her teachers love her too- it's clear right away that she shines academically. She even talks to Principal Figgins about starting a celibacy club. Her daddy would be proud.
…
It's her third day at the school when she's called to Coach Sylvester's office. Curiously, she makes her way there, revelling in the way the students grow hushed and move aside as she passes.
"You wanted to see me?"
"Ah, yes, Quinn. Take a seat." She obeys, smoothing down the creases in her dress.
"So, peroxide Barbie, from what I can see in your files, you have quite the aptitude for gymnastics and dance. And you're a straight A student, your punctuality and attendance are impeccable…not to mention you already seem to have an extremely high social standing." This earns a smirk from Quinn.
Coach Sylvester continues, "How would you like to join my Cheerios?"
Her heart skips a beat, and she sits up straighter. This is everything she's ever wanted, the chance to be part of the most exclusive and popular club at McKinley. "I'd love to ," is her breathless reply.
"Of course you would. Now get out of here."
She exits, feeling giddy.
…
Her first cheerleading practice falls on the following Monday, and she arrives at the gym ten minutes early, hoping to make a good impression. There are a few other girls already milling around. Her eyes scan the room, searching for a familiar face. She recognises a few of the girls from her lunch table, Stephanie, she thinks that brunette's name is, and-
"Brittany!" She half-runs towards the bubbly, slightly ditzy girl from her dance class.
"Hey Quinn! You got into the Cheerios too?"
"Yep." The girl standing next to Brittany catches her eye then.
"Oh, Quinn, this is Santana. She's my best friend in the whole world."
"Nice to meet you."
"Yeah, yeah." The atmosphere suddenly feels exceedingly tense, and Quinn gets the feeling Santana is challenging her with her gaze. She stares straight back, unyielding.
Brittany either doesn't notice this abrupt change in mood, or chooses to ignore it. "So aren't you guys, like, super excited to join the Cheerios? I bet it's gonna be so much fun!" Her ponytail swishes as she gestures animatedly.
"Yeah," Santana agrees.
"I'm going to be head cheerio by the end of this year, just you wait," adds Quinn hurriedly, asserting her authority. She looks daggers at Santana, daring her to argue. For a moment it looks as though she's going to, but then the moment passes and she nods curtly.
…
At lunch the next day, they're joined by a handful of the new football players, including the tall boy she noticed on her first day, as well as his friend, a mohawked boy who winks at her as she sits down. She rolls her eyes.
"Hey guys," greets the tall boy, sitting down next to her. This is her chance. She shuffles closer to him, and he turns to look at her.
"I'm Quinn." She smiles her most charming smile, the one she uses on her daddy when she wants something, the one nobody could resist if they tried.
"Finn," he replies, the corner of his mouth tugging into a little half-smile.
Leaning closer, she rests her chin on her hand and bats her long, thick eyelashes at him. He looks positively gobsmacked.
Her life is a jigsaw, and she's slowly slotting the pieces into place.
