Dear Mr. And Mrs. Fabray,

We are pleased to inform that your daughter, Lucy Fabray, has been accepted entry to the Holy Trinity Boarding Academy for Young Ladies for the academic year of 2011-12. Enclosed in this letter is a student identification card to be given to your daughter.

In order to attend Holy Trinity Boarding Academy, a set of rules and guidelines are in place to assure your daughter receives a fruitful educational experience during her stay.

Your daughter will be forced to discontinue her stay at the academy if:

She fails in the same class for two consecutive years.

She is disobedient and/or disrespectful towards staff members.

She is a dubious moral character.

Irregular attendance.

She distributes harmful, obscene literature.

She leaves the school without the expressed permission of the headmistress.

Habitual late payments by parents.

She damages school property.

Pupils must leave and return to the academy at the stipulated dates during school holidays.

The dress code for the alumni are as follows, except on special occasions:

Black school blazer with the appropriate monogram.

Gray pleated skirt, two inches below the knee.

White collar blouse.

Navy sweater vest and/or cardigan with the appropriate monogram.

Black penny loafers.

Black school tie.

Only navy, white, black or grey hair ribbons, hair ties and hair bands are permitted.

For physical education classes, the uniform is as follows:

White collared t-shirt with appropriate monogram.

Navy Adidas tracksuit.

White canvas shoes. Sneakers are not permitted.

We look forward to your daughter's attendance given she respects the rules and guidelines of this prestigious academy.

Regards,

Headmistress,

Sue Sylvester

Quinn blinked around at her room, knowing one day she would come to think of it as her cell. It's what she did with every room she'd ever lived in. Her quiet, polished bedroom in her parents' house had become a prison where her mistakes bounced off the walls. As much as she tried to make it her own during the summer, she couldn't, and just left her belongings to sit in their suitcases. Unpacking only seemed pointless, knowing she would be forced out again once the summer ended.

Puck's bedroom had definitely been a prison, with walls of dirty laundry and strewn garbage keeping her captive and his mother pacing outside the door like a warden.

Nothing much compared to this, though. This cell was the size of her mother's walk-in closet, with twin beds parallel each other, gray bedspreads tucked tightly into the sides.

Quinn was trying to take a new direction in life, and the first stop was to end her shallow ways, but she couldn't break out of the notion that you could learn a lot about a person by their belongings, and Quinn figured that her room-mate must either be a lunatic or a five year old, by the looks of it. A Hello Kitty pillow was thrown on the bed, with her desk rife with sticky spots where jolly ranchers had melted and latched themselves into the wooden cracks.

Quinn could hardly imagine bunking with someone so ... sticky. The only time she ever shared a bedroom with anyone were those long few weeks last year, in Puckerman's house, and even though she wrinkled her nose at the sight of dirty underwear hanging on the corner of his TV screen and Cheetoh dust in the crevices of his carpet, she kind of missed the memory of him curling over her in the big spoon position with his chin tucked over her shoulder and his warm hands over her big round stomach.

She shook as she realized she was standing in her dimly lit dorm room, staring into space. She couldn't let sweet memories engulf her like that. She made a promise to herself she would keep moving forward. It made no sense to want to get stuck in a past that caused so much pain.

Quinn turned, hearing three light-knuckled knocks on her door. She opened it and glanced down at a shorter girl with a beaming smile, and a head of copper brown hair held back by a thick grey headband.

"You must be Lucy Fabray," beamed the girl, her brown eyes wide and emphatic.

"Quinn," she corrected, "You can call me Quinn."

With the smile still plastered on her optimistic face, the girl just beyond the threshold of Quinn's bedroom door raised a confused eyebrow.

"Okay, Quinn it is, then. My name is Rachel Berry," Rachel leaned forward and held out her hand, saying her name with such enunciation that she must have thought Quinn had hearing problems, "I'm a core member of the student council and president of the welcoming committee, and I've been assigned to be your guide during these understandably hectic first few weeks at the academy."

Quinn eyed Rachel Berry up and down. Although most students she'd seen had hitched their skirts up until they were minis, Rachel Berry had hers down at the regulated two inches below the knee. Her grey cable knit socks met the hem of the skirt so that not one fraction of the girl's legs were on display. Quinn noted that this girl was the model Holy Trinity student - literally. She remembered her picture in the brochure - a wide-eyed girl sitting at the edge of a monstrous water fountain in the courtyard, smiling at the camera. Quinn could recognize that nose anywhere.

"You're the girl from the brochure," Quinn mumbled without thinking.

Rachel smiled and sighed, with amused exhaustion, as if she was recognized everywhere she went for being the face of an obscure Catholic boarding school for girls in Ohio.

"That I am," nodded Rachel, shrugging her shoulders under her heavy black blazer, "The brochures were redone last year for the first time since 1975 because the headmistress thought the Farrah Fawcett hair style was off putting. And who better to model for the brochure than the prefect with this best meret track?"

"They give merets here?"

Rache frowned, and shook her head. "Not exactly. Headmistress Sylvester doesn't believe in praise - only punishment. But I've never recieved a demerit in the two years I've attended Holy Trinity, and that's a lot to say for some people here. Speaking of Headmistress Sylvester, as well as welcoming you to the academy, I was also told to escort you to the headmistress's office."

"Did I do something?" asked Quinn, pulling at the sleeve of her navy cardigan.

"Oh, no," Rachel laughed, "Ms. Sylvester just wants to welcome you to our school."

Sue Sylvester had a strange way of welcoming people.

Quinn fidgeted in the polyester seat as Sue sat opposite her, glaring in her direction.

"Um, did I ... do something?" asked Quinn, because she didn't imagine the welcoming process involved staring down a person in complete silence.

But the staring continued. Quinn's eyes swivelled around the room, because the tension between her and Ms. Sylvester's intense glare was unbearable. Quinn noted the odd things in Ms. Sylvester's office. A stuffed bear loomed over them from the corner, and most of the shelf space was taken up with first place trophies. Of what, Quinn couldn't tell. She began to grow bored of Ms. Sylvester's silent staring, and stared back at the tall woman, until they'd been staring into each other's unflinching eyes for nearly a minute.

"You've got chops, kid," Ms. Sylvester finally said, startling Quinn as the silence was broken.

"Excuse me?"

"Adolf Hitler would stand in at least three minutes of utter silence before giving a speech. It gave room for anticipation to grow, and soiled the underpants of his flabbergasted enemies. He would much rather be feared than respected, and I, Sue Sylvester, yearn for the same."

Quinn blinked. Was her headmistress comparing herself to Hitler?

"So, Lucy Fabray," sighed Sue Sylvester, flipping through the thick pages of a bulky roll book, "I had a meeting with your parents not long ago. Odd pair; smelt like almonds. So far what I know about your horrid back story is that your uppety God-fearing parents have decided to dump you here, in my reknowned academy, because of the disappointment you caused them after getting knocked up by a mohawked grease monkey. Is it true the baby was born part lizard?"

Quinn opened her mouth and closed it again, unsure of how to respond.

"Of course not," Sue Sylvester answered herself, "Worse. It was born part Jewish. I also noted that your parents kept calling you Quinn. Care to explain?"

"I told them to call me Quinn," she shrugged, "Everyone calls me Quinn. I just ... prefer it."

Sue nodded. "I like that, Q. May I call you, Q? Scratch that, I don't care. I always believed that a person should name themselves instead of sticking with the name a couple of religious nuts gave you when you barely even a person. As soon as I could I had my name legally changed to Sue Sylvester from Sharon Stone, and I never looked back."

Quinn blinked at the headmistress. She figured it was better not to talk and let the woman spew her nonsense.

"I want you to know, Q, that I'll be keeping a watchful eye on you. As fascinating a mess as I find you, I'll have no problem kicking your now much less firm behind back to Podunk, Ohio, if I see that you step out of line. There are rules upon rules that I expect you to know like the stretch marks that envelope your body, but as long as you keep up with the key three - no booze, no boys, no pheasant blouses - you're most likely good to go. Now scram, I've got my journal entries to fill out."

Quinn blinked and rose from her seat, slightly disoriented after that whirl of a welcome speech. She didn't even notice Rachel waiting outside the door as she left in a daze.

"How did it go?" Rachel smiled as she hopped up to the taller girl's side, smiling with every fraction of her face.

"Um, Ms. Sylvester is nice ... and strange. And a little anti-Semetic."

Rachel frowned. "Well, she does have a tendency to be a little eccentric, but some say that aides her in maintaining rule of a school with as little experience as she has when it comes to education management."

"What was she doing before she became a principal?" asked Quinn as Rachel led her back down the path to her dorm room.

"She coached cheerleading at a local public school, but since she started running Holy Trinity Academy, she coaches the fencing team here. I'm surprised she ever took this job in the first place, though. She's not even Catholic. Then again, neither am I."

Quinn nodded along, pleased to see the door to her bedroom, because this conversation was utterly boring.

"Would you like me to take you to procure your textbooks from the library?" Rachel asked eagerly.

Quinn smiled and shook her head. "No, thanks, Rachel. I'm just going to settle down in my room and get unpacked."

Rachel nodded with slight disappointment and watched Quinn disappear into her dorm room. Quinn sighed with her back against the closed door, hoping that not everyone here was a Rachel Berry-alike. There was only so much in the world of the bizarre that Quinn could take. That is, until she looked up and saw a unicorn on her room-mate's bed. Quinn blinked and shook her her head. It was a gigantic stuffed unicorn, with rounded purple hooves and a silly expression. The stuffed animal was being hugged tight by a girl on the bed, with long blond hair held up tight in a brushed back ponytail.

"You must be Brittany," said Quinn, remembering the name of her room-mate printed on one of the sheets she'd received from the school; Brittany Susan Pierce.

"I am Brittany!" exclaimed the girl, pleasantly surprised to be known.

Brittany hopped up off of her bed, her ponytail bouncing, as Quinn looked her up and down. Her white socks sunk down her ankles and her skirt was hitched up so high, Quinn was afraid there was going to be some unwanted flashes of underwear.

Brittany held out her hand, her nails painted the colours of the rainbow, as a necklace fell out from under her shirt collar. It was half a sterling silver heart that said 'Friends' on it, and Quinn wondered who had the other half. Probably the unicorn.

"Nice to meet you," Quinn muttered, shaking her new roommate's firm hand.

"I'm nice to meet," smiled Brittany, "Do you want some candy?"

Brittany fished a sticky red Twizzler out from her pillow case, fabric fibers stuck to the stick of licorice.

"No, thanks," Quinn wrinkled her nose and took a seat at the edge of her bed, looking down at the luggage she'd left on the floor.

"Do you want help unpacking?" asked Brittany, stuffing the licorice back into her Hello Kitty pillow.

"No, I'll just leave it for later. Thanks," said Quinn.

"I love unpacking. It's like unwrapping presents."

Quinn pursed her lips, and nodded distantly. "Presents you already own..."

Brittany fell back onto her bed with a coy smile. "You're really pretty," she smiled, propping her head on her hand and staring at Quinn, "Like school girl Barbie."

"Thank you," Quinn said quietly, stroking the ends of her blond hair absent mindedly, "So what do you do here, when you're not in class?"

Brittany twirled the ends of her ponytail around her finger and lay down on her stomach, her legs waggling in the air behind her as she thought.

"Well... There are clubs and stuff. Like, I'm on the fencing team. And the lacrosse team, and soccer."

"So you're really into sports?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Brittany sighed, "Mostly, I just hang out with my best friend."

"Oh," Quinn said, looking down at her immaculate nails, "That's nice."

Brittany jumped up on her knees on the bed, her sea blue eyes widening with excitement.

"Let me show you to her!"

"To, who?"

"To Santana! She's my best friend! Oh, I'm so excited!"

Brittany leaped up and clutched Quinn's arm, pulling her off the bed and dragging her out of their room. Quinn frowned as she truly did begin to feel like School Girl Barbie, her room-mate's latest toy.

xxx

Santana breathed in the bitter smoke of her cigarette, and sighed like she was shedding a mound of relief. With her back against the stony wall of the academy, she felt grateful for the pack she'd secured earlier this month, praying she could make it last until she got more. Very few things kept her sane in this hell hole, and smoking was one of them. Another, was escaping every once in a while. She could only stare at the same four walls for so long before she felt the urge to blow her brains out. So far this September, the only times she's been out of this dump was during the weekend when they were allowed to take the bus into the sorry excuse for a town twenty minutes away. Thankfully, her bros at the boys' academy had been able to secure some booze. Ah, that's another thing that kept her sane. Alcohol. She yearned for the bitter taste of tequila the more she thought about it.

As she heard the crunch of gravel under someone's footsteps approaching her hideaway behind the school building, she hurriedly blew smoke out of her mouth and squished her cigarette butt under her foot.

"Santana!" called Brittany with a wide smile on her innocent face.

Santana smiled as her best friend toted another girl along with her. The fresh faced blond had her hair down around her shoulders, with a tight-lipped frown imprinted on her face. Just as Santana suspected, Brittany had dragged along another new kid to play Show and Tell with. Santana just shook her head and smiled, genuinely happy to see the girl, because Brittany was another thing that kept her sane. She was perhaps the most effective thing.

"Who's this?" asked Santana, crossing her arms over her black leather jacket - because that school blazer was so unflattering.

"This is my room-mate, um, uh..."

"Quinn," said the modest blond.

Santana grimaced. The new chick had a nasally voice and a pretentious frown. That wasn't a good sign.

"What are you in for?" asked Santana, staring down Quinn who was still being gripped tightly by Brittany.

Quinn's frown deepened as she glanced at the gravelly ground.

"My parents are hard core Catholics, so..."

Santana smirked. She knew when a person lied to her, but she shrugged and accepted the lame excuse.

"Sure. Whatever," she grinned subtly.

"Doesn't she look like a Barbie, Santana?" asked Brittany, obviously excited by her new life sized toy.

"What about you?" asked Quinn, tugging her sleeve away from Brittany's grip, "What are you in for?"

Santana blinked. "Same as you. My 'rents are major Jesus freaks."

"Sure. Whatever," Quinn frowned.

A smile rose from ear to ear on Santana's face. She couldn't say she liked Quinn, but she had to respect the newbie at least a little. And if she didn't, she was at least excited by what could come out of a new arrival in this abysmal penitentiary.

"Alright," Santana shrugged, "If you really want to know, my parents only turn to God when it's convenient for them. For example, to pray for their deluded lesbian daughter. I guess God's method for curing my gay was to send me to a prison full of chicks. Ironic, huh?"

Quinn shifted on her feet, looking uncomfortable. "Not what ironic means, but whatever," she mumbled.

Santana rolled her eyes. "Sounds like we've got another Berry on our hands," she sighed to Brittany.

"No, you don't!" Quinn snapped, glaring at Santana.

The Latina was stunned a moment. Firstly, because no one snapped at Santana Lopez. Secondly, because it was a little unexpected that that troll Rachel Berry had already sunk her teeth into the new girl and repulsed her to the point of being offended by being compared to her. Or maybe it was just common knowledge that no one wanted to be a Rachel Berry. An overachieving, over eager, grammar Nazi with a Jew nose and hideous penny loafers.

"Alright. Prove it," smirked Santana.

Quinn furrowed her brow. "Prove what?"

"That you're not another holier than thou teacher's pet. Tell me what you really got sent here for."

Quinn glanced at Brittany and shook her head. "I don't have anything to prove to you," she said to the floor and stalked off tensely, her head down.

"San, you scared away my new friend," Brittany pouted as they watched Quinn walk back into the school from the back entrance.

"It's okay, Britt," Santana smiled, sliding her arms around her friend in a loose hug, "You have me. Latin Barbie."

Brittany smiled, her blue eyes sparkling.

xxx

Quinn was beginning to feel her face flush, her cheeks getting pink with embarrassment as she stormed through the hallways of the academy, unsure of where she was headed. She found herself surprised by what a short amount of time it took for her to wish she was anywhere but here. When she was a little girl, she used to think boarding school sounded amazing. A big, fancy establishment where she could have a slumber party with her friends every night and only had to visit her judgemental parents on the holidays. She never imagined she would be sent here against her will, and with no friends at all. She felt like she had fallen down the rabbit hole, and now everything in this place was bizarre. Her headmistress spoke in riddles, her roommate had the mind of a toddler and the only other people she'd met were the over eager hobbit and the skinny Latin chick who thought she was so much more badass than she really was. Quinn hated being the new girl. Back at her old school, she was the queen, but now she had to rebuild her reputation from scratch.

She shook the bad thoughts out of her head and decided to head to the library. As well as collecting her textbooks for the semester, she could probably find some solace in a quiet room full of books. She found her way quickly past her schoolmates and headed into the completely empty library. A shiver ran down her back as she stepped in, her soft heels thudding against the dark hardwood floor. Bookcases rose all the way up to the top of the high ceiling, the shelves caked with dust. Beside a section of computers was the librarian's desk, but there was no one behind it save for a slightly ajar door.

Quinn tapped the bell on the desk and like clockwork, a boy appeared from the door. Quinn blinked in surprise. She was expecting a spidery ancient old woman to be the librarian of this old academy, but there he was, an unexpectedly handsome boy with wavy black hair, gray eyes and a trace of a subtle smirk on his thin lips.

"May I help you?" he asked, his voice smooth and solid.

"Y-Yes. I'm new, and I'm here to pick up my textbooks," Quinn forced out of her mouth, trying not to let her surprise make her look like a stammering idiot.

"What's your name?" he said, turning to the outdated white computer on his desk.

"Quinn Fabray. Lucy, Quinn Fabray," said Quinn, as the boy entered her name in the database. She wondered how much older he was than her.

"Pretty name, Quinn," he said, looking back up with his piercing gray eyes, "I'm Jesse."

"Nice to meet you," she mumbled as he hunkered down to lift a pile of textbooks under the desk, and slide them towards her on the surface.

"Thank you," she said quietly, and collected the pile in her arms.

"No problem, Quinn," he smiled, watching her balance the books in her hold.

Quinn glanced at collection of computer desks to their side. "Do you mind if I...?" she nodded to them.

"Go right ahead," he gestured, and turned back to his computer, a sly smile on his lips the whole time.

Her hope pricked up just a little as she took a seat at the computer, silence engulfing the library accept for the hum of the PCs. Even if the rest of this academy was like a bizarrely boring Wonderland, perhaps gawking at Jesse the Librarian would be an escape.

Quinn didn't let her hands stay idle and quickly checked her e-mail. Her disappointment that neither of her parents had checked up on her was quickly washed away by the clenching feeling her stomach at the amount of e-mails sent by Puck.

Curiousity got the best of her and she ended up reading all of them. Most of them just inquiring where she'd been all summer and where she was now, and some exclaiming his love for the girl. She loathed herself for being so sentimental and saving some of the more touching ones. The last one she read over at least five times, blinking vacantly at the computer screen.

Q,

Don't be mad.

I went to your folks place to see where you were. I knew if your dad was there he would have killed me with whatever snuffed that stuffed deer's head in your living room, but since it's just your mom, she let me in. She didn't look too cool about seeing me, but whatever. I needed to know where you were. She told me about the boarding school. Man, that sucks. Why didn't you tell me? The last time we talked was when Beth was born and I told you that I loved you. Why won't you answer my e-mails? If it's because you don't love me back, tell me, but if it's because you think we can't work, then let me prove that we can. I'll drive down to Warsaw this weekend so we can talk. Please say you'll meet me somewhere. I need to see you. Quinn, I love you.

Puck.

Quinn bit the inside of her cheek and read it over and over. Every 'I love you' healed just a little bit of her wounds, but wasn't enough to glue her heart back together. Nothing was.

Quinn realized that while her eyes had been glued to the monitor, Rachel Berry had entered and was chatting to Jesse the Librarian with ease, as if the two had known each other for some time. She gestured emphatically with her hands as he leaned against his desk, listening intently, as if he wasn't a faculty member and rather another school boy with a crush. Quinn wondered how they knew each other, and what Jesse saw in Rachel, because he obviously saw something. Not that Rachel was a completely undesirable girl, but as Quinn had suspected, she was obliviously unpopular with her classmates. No one wanted to be Rachel Berry, or be seen with her.

"Oh, hello, Quinn," Rachel smiled as she looked the girl's way.

Quinn flipped off the monitor, embarassed to be caught staring.

"Hi," she mumbled, and collected her books.

"How have you been finding the school?" Rachel asked enthusiastically, "Would you like me to escort you anywhere?"

"No, thank you," said Quinn, and hurried out of the library.

She didn't like that she was trapped in Holy Trinity Academy, but she was going to make the best of it, and she would start by not walking head first into a life of loserdom. Yes, thought Quinn, What am I if not a leader? The only way to get through these next two years is to reclaim my rightful status as Head Bitch in Charge. A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.

But where did one start when it came to becoming Head Bitch? She thought back to the start of her glory days at McKinley High back in Lima, and decided she had to get organized. She needed to make a list. Quinn let a smile escape her lips as she entered her dorm room with her textbooks in her arms. Quinn loved making lists.

Quinn set her textbooks down on her desk as she glanced at Brittany, pulling accessories out of the suitcase under her bed.

"What are you doing Brittany?" Quinn asked cautiously.

Brittany turned and smirked at her room-mate. The oblivious blond wasn't in her regulated school uniform, but an oversized t-shirt with one sleeve pulled over her slender shoulder, a pair of black pinstripe shorts with matching suspenders. The girl's hair was crimped into wild beach curls that cascaded around her shoulders.

"I'm going to a party," smiled Brittany, bringing one finger to her lips, "Shhh."

Quinn grinned. "You're sneaking out tonight."

"You can't tell on us."

"Of course I won't," smiled Quinn.

"Do you want to come with us?"

"No, thank you," said Quinn as she pulled a legal pad and a ballpoint pen out of one of her rucksacks.

"Okey dokey," Brittany shrugged, and pushed open their bedroom window.

"Are your sure you should do that?" asked Quinn, nervously eyeing the window that her roommate was about to crawl out of.

"Don't worry. I'm, like, an expert," Brittany smiled, winked, and boosted herself out, lowering herself down the drain.

Quinn shook her head and sat back on her bed with her pen at the ready. One thing she wasn't going to do was sneak out like her mischievous peers. School wasn't as important to her as it used to be, but she resolved she would achieve perfect grades and be on her best behaviour if she wanted the chance for her mother to let her come home early. Aside from that, she needed to do what she could to become Queen Bee once more.

1. Looks.

She wrote on her notepad, and nodded as if in agreement with herself. Even in a girls' school, her looks were one of the most important steps to becoming popular. They were the first step to making her peers feel inadequate in comparison. She couldn't just rely on what Dr. Wolowitz blessed her with. She had to make a serious effort.

2. Attitude.

No taking any crap from the Santana Lopezes of the world. She'd have to lean on her wit to quickly nip any cattiness in the bud. HBICs don't take shit from nobody.

3. Rep.

Reputation was unbelievably important. No one was just going to hand Quinn the crown of Miss Popularity without knowing anything about her past. Then and there, she vowed to tell no one about the two girls she'd buried so far back into her mind; Beth and Lucy. And that wasn't a compromise. No one wants to hand the reigns to a teen mom or a former fatty.

4. Followers.

She had to get at least someone to like her, and she could start by broadening her horizons. She decided that tomorrow she would sign up for a few extra curricular activities. One sports activity, one academic activity and one purely for fun.

5. Boys.

Quinn bit her lip at this one. Her mind wandered to Noah Puckerman, but she quickly banished that from her mind. No one was going to be impressed by the fact that she had some long distance boyfriend in Lima. She had to grab hold of someone that at least the majority of these school girls knew. The more unattainable, the better. Quinn smirked knowingly. Jesse.

xxx

The hushed bustling of their night time gathering always excited Brittany, making tadpoles swim around in her belly. Of course, this small open space in the woods surrounding the academy wasn't as sweet and comfy as she and Santana's secret hideaway, but it was still nice to lean back on a log on the ground with Santana by her side, their faces orange from the glare of a camp fire as tall, bulky boys from their brother school hung around them, refreshed and excited by the coveted presence of girls.

She liked to see Santana smile so smugly. She knew that San loved this kind of undivided attention from boys, despite claiming to have no interest them at all.

Santana smirked as Dave Karofsky handed her a lighted cigarette. Dave was probably the only boy who didn't fawn over Santana and Brittany, but he still appreciated them being there and shared the booze and smokes he scored during the weekends from looking so much older than he was.

Even though there was merriment in the air at their success in escaping tonight and holding a mini party in the woods, Santana's mind was elsewhere as she brought a bottle of vodka to her lips. It was stuck on Quinn Fabray, that angelic new girl Brittany was now so fond of. She claimed she was no Rachel Berry, and yet she'd rejected Brittany's invitation to their party tonight. However, she got the impression that was Quinn wasn't as angelic as she looked, and she was harboring a secret. And there was nothing Santana Lopez liked more than a mystery.

"Lopez!" shouted one of the guys.

Santana's attention snapped back to the party and she realized they were playing an impromptu game of Spin the Bottle with an empty vodka bottle.

"You got to kiss Brittany," leered one of the guys with a big grin on his face.

The guys started chanting 'kiss her', pounding their fists on their laps. Santana rolled her eyes with a smile and obliged, gladly, turning her head and frenching her best friend, sending the school boys into riotous cheers. Correction; there was one thing Santana Lopez liked more than a mystery. And that was Brittany Pierce.

Santana wrinkled her brow and pulled away from her friend.

"Did you hear something?" Brittany asked.

"Shut up!" Santana shouted at the cheering boys, and they did, listening intently.

Their stomachs collectively dropped and their smiles fell as they heard the sound of a dog barking in the distance of the woods.

"Oh, shit," said Santana, pulling Brittany up off the ground.

With the rest of the school boys, they attempted to scurry away, but Britt's shoe snagged on a broken tree branch among the leafy ground and she fell, scuffing her knees on the dirt. Santana turned back and helped her friend up, wrapping a protective arm around Brittany's waist, as the rest of the boys disappeared into the woods.

"Well, what do you know? If it isn't Tweedle-Dum and Tweedle-Fake-Boobs."

Santana winced, and the pair turned to face their sneering headmistress, Sue Sylvester, holding a leash that was attached to a snarling guard dog. Santana wasn't usually afraid of getting caught, but when it came to Headmistress Sylvester, she was in for a cruel and unusual punishment.