"Quinn, would you stop fidgeting?" Santana said, glancing up from her magazine. "I'm trying to learn the top ten hair secrets every self-respecting Hispanic woman should know, and I keep reading the same damn sentence over and over."
"Sorry," Quinn said absently. "I'm just nervous." The two girls sat alone in the waiting room at a little hair salon down the street from their hotel in New York City.
"Why?" Santana asked, flipping the page of her magazine. "It's just a haircut."
"I don't know," Quinn said with a sigh. "I've had long hair for years, I'm so used to that. I don't think it's going to look good short."
"It'll grow back," Santana said simply. "And I'm pretty sure you could shave your head and still look hot." She smiled up at Quinn, who couldn't help but smile back. But a moment later, the smile faded and Santana could sense her uncertainty. "Ok, do you want to talk about what this is really about?" Santana asked as she closed her magazine and tossed it on the chair next to her.
"What do you mean?" Quinn asked, slightly alarmed. "I just like my hair how it is." She had to look away as Santana rolled her eyes.
"Quinn. Don't forget who you're talking to here. My BS detector is never wrong, and right now it's shrieking like a damn alarm clock." Quinn didn't speak, but she didn't have to. "Look, I get it."
"You do?" Quinn asked. Her gaze met Santana's.
"We used to friends, Q. I know you."
"Nobody really knows me," Quinn said quietly, looking down to the floor.
"Well, I know that it's not cutting your hair that scares you," Santana said with a shrug. "It's the idea of stepping out of your comfort zone. Finding a new identity. Finn may not have loved you, but at least he was something warm and fuzzy to hold on to. He made you feel safe, and now that feeling is gone. Just like your hair's about to be." All Quinn could do was gawk at Santana, who apparently had been living inside her head. "And you know what else?" Santana continued. "I bet that's not even the half of it." Quinn took a deep breath as tears began to form in the corners of her eyes.
"You're right," she said finally. "My life is nothing more than the empty lies I've been telling myself to make it through the day." She kept her gaze on the black and white tile floor. "At the beginning of the year, I really thought I had it all back. I had cheerleading, I had the football player...two football players... Anyway, after a while, everything started to slip away from me again. And now there's nothing left to hold on to, and I just can't fool myself into thinking i've got it all together. Not anymore." She took a deep breath. "So congratulations, you've got me figured out." A tear fell from her eye, and she didn't bother to brush it away.
"Hey, hey," Santana said softly. "I didn't bring all of this up just to shove it in your face, believe it or not." She hesitated. "I just wanted you to know that...I think I understand how you're feeling." Quinn turned her head towards Santana, and sensed the pain in her eyes. "I don't know if it helps, but just know that you're not alone." Slowly, she reached over and gently covered Quinn's hand with her own. Quinn offered her a sad smile.
"It helps," she said quietly. And she meant it.
They sat in silence for a few moments, until Santana spoke up again.
"I know this is just a haircut," she started. "But think of it as a chance to start over." Quinn looked at her skeptically. "Ok, I guess that sounded as stupid out loud as it did in my head," Santana admitted. "But I'm serious, Quinn. You've had a really tough couple of years. Probably tougher than everyone else in Glee club combined." Quinn swallowed hard as she tried to keep the tears from flowing. "But you can't keep holding on to all that pain. You can't keep everything inside forever. Sooner or later, you have to move on with your life."
"I wish it was that simple," Quinn said, letting out a sharp breath in frustration.
"Oh, did you think it was going to be easy?" Santana said, raising an eyebrow and smiling coyly. Quinn had to smile. She had always admired Santana's ability to speak her mind, no matter the circumstance. It was an old comfort. She wiped the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand, feeling a little bit better now.
"Look at us," Quinn said with a smile. "Last year the deepest conversations we had were about cheer pyramids, or shoes." She chuckled at the memories. "And now we're actually having a real heart to heart."
"We've both come a long way," Santana said with a nod. "Even since the beginning of this year. Remember that wicked catfight? We were so full of it." By now they were both laughing.
"Sorry I told coach Sylvestor about your boob job," Quinn said, a little more serious now.
"Sorry I called you a slut and slapped you in the face."
"I was selfish," Quinn said apologetically.
"I was just a bitch," Santana said simply. She shrugged. "Still am." Quinn chuckled.
"God, I haven't laughed like this in so long." She flashed Santana a grin. "I've missed you."
"You too, Q," Santana said sweetly, draping her arm around Quinn's shoulder.
After a moment, Quinn's happiness began to slip away, much like everything else in her life she held dear.
"You'll get through this," Santana said, as if on cue. "I'll help you. Me and Britt." She gave Quinn an encouraging smile and squeezed her a little bit tighter.
"Thanks Santana," Quinn said, returning her smile. For the first time in a long time she felt a glimmer of hope. Not that it didn't still feel like her world was crumbling around her. But now, it was like she had the tools to build it back up again. As she looked at Santana, she didn't feel quite so alone anymore.
"Quinn?"
Both girls started at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. It was one of the hair stylists, prepared to cut off Quinn's golden locks.
"Are you ready?"
With an encouraging nod from Santana, Quinn stood to her feet. She gave Santana a final glance and an unspoken "thank you."
"I'm ready."