Summary: Quinn Fabray and Santana Lopez have grown up together and have always been the best of friends. That is, until Santana realizes something that perhaps she has always known- her feelings for Quinn aren't exactly just friendly ones. When Quinn can't handle it anymore, their conflicted relationship is destroyed, and they go nearly two years without speaking to one another, during which Quinn's life is completely turned on its head. Now, with both of them newly graduated from McKinley High, they're forced to face one another again when they're paired together for the Glee Senior Trip. Can two weeks at a romantic beach resort living together in a lavish room complete with an infuriatingly creaky bed pass without conflict, or will tensions rise until someone finally snaps?

Rating: Very much M for Mature.

A/N: This is obviously a Quinntana story. There's also some Brittana, Faberry, Pezberry, Quitt and Unholy Trinity friendship centers, and there are a couple chapters in which Quick is mentioned (though trust me, this is NOT going to have a lot of Quick in it. It is, however, unfortunately necessary for the plot).

Anyways, this is my first fanfiction and some feedback would be amazing, so let me know what you think!

Thank you, and I hope you enjoy!

Chapter I:
Prologue

Quinn's POV

It was a Friday night when it happened.

I was out, doing something I shouldn't have been doing. My parents were both home, watching the Presidential election. My older sister was cheering at a football game. I was in the backseat of Noah Puckerman's truck, parked behind an old bowling alley.
This wasn't something I normally did, I can assure you that. Currently, I was straddling Puck, arching my body pliantly into his while he held me tightly by my hair, kissing his way down my neck and onto my chest. I was seventeen years old, and ordinarily I would spend my time at home, doing homework or practicing my cheer routines. I was rarely out with someone, no matter how often I intended to be. I spoke to many boys in my class, but it was mostly all talk and no action, which was all on my behalf.
I could hear distant cheering, which meant the football game was nearly over. I wondered how the halftime show went. My sister was the captain of the Cheerios squad. And the basketball team. And the softball team, and even the soccer team, plus she was the president of student council, in the national honor society, and ran many other clubs as the leader. She was the pride and joy of my family, the golden daughter constantly put on the top pedestal, and I could hardly blame her for being so. I was proud of her. She was a good person, not like every other girl on the squad who went and got trashed every weekend. She was a straight-A student who got along with everyone, and she was a senior who had just signed a cheerleading scholarship to attend Ohio University. She told me yesterday that she might even try out for the basketball team once football season was over.

"Let's take this off," murmured Puck, and I felt his fingertips brushing the skin of my stomach just under the bottom hem of my shirt. Although it was essentially pointless, as I was far from into this, I allowed him to lift my shirt and push my bra up with it. As he lowered his head to bring flesh into his mouth, I raised my gaze to look at the moon through the truck's back window. Like usual, I was completely and utterly bored.

All my friends in school would be jealous of where I was right now. Many of them would leap at the chance to be with Puckerman, and to be honest, many of them had been. I don't know why – he wasn't the most attractive person I'd ever seen. He was all right, in my opinion.

He whispered my name into my ear before nibbling my ear lobe. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and sigh as I stared out the window.

I strained my ears, listening for sounds of the football game as Puck kissed my chest with the finesse of an orangutan. I could hear nothing, which meant my sister would be heading home about now. Normally, she and my parents and I would be going to eat dinner at the local restaurant in town, but since the presidential election was on, my parents hadn't gone to the game. And since I wanted to give another try at feeling attraction, and my parents would never know the difference, I hadn't gone either.
Puck's hand drifted toward the fork between my legs, and I slapped it away. "Why?" he muttered, half a smile on his face. He took my hand instead and led it to his jeans.

I made up an excuse rather than telling him I just didn't want him touching me. "I don't put out on the first date."
He went to put my hand under his jeans, and I felt a sense of repulsion. I yanked my hand back to rest over his jeans. I would do this over his clothes, and that was all he was getting.

He made a noise and settled back, closing his eyes as I moved my hand. I stopped, jolting guiltily, when my phone vibrated from in the cup holder in the front of the truck. Puck tried to tug me back as I crawled off him, reached to get my phone. It was a text message from my sister.

Hey girlie, where are you? We won the game! :)

"Who is it?" asked Puck from behind me.

"Frannie." I quickly replied congratulations to her, avoiding answering her question, and her next text made me relieved.

Meet me at Breadstix to celebrate!

"Hey, we need to go." I said, swiveling around to face Puck. "Frannie texted and said to meet her at Breadstix."

"Seriously?" Puck groaned, and pointedly looked down at the part of his body I was trying to avoid.

"Yes, seriously. Let's go." I pulled my bra and shirt back down before I climbed into the passenger seat and buckled up.

Puck gave a huff of breath, following after and climbing into the driver's seat. He started the car before leaning toward me andbreathing into my ear, "But I thought we were going to…"

"I actually feel a little sick," I calmly lied. Irritation was spewing in my stomach. This was the latest in several attempts to be with a guy and not succeeding due to my own inhibitions. "I might just be hungry. So let's go."

"I have something you could eat." Puck grinned, but put the truck into gear and pulled out onto the road.

The drive to Breadstix was short and silent. When we arrived, I kissed Puck's cheeks and thanked him for the evening, and he gave me a curt but fairly civilized reply before we both got out of the truck. I knew we probably wouldn't mention this night again. I had probably hurt his ego. I allowed myself to feel a small ounce of guilt before I entered Breadstix.

It was packed, as it usually was after a football game. The entire team tended to celebrate with a million buckets of breadsticks. I spotted my sister when she rose to greet me, a big grin stretching ear to ear on her pretty face. I beamed at her as we hugged. She was so beautiful; I knew that it wouldn't be long into college that she'd be bringing me home a sister-in-law.

"What was the score?" I asked when we pulled back.

"42-7. It was a good game though; they were up until the third quarter."

"Frannie!" We both turned when Puck waved at us. "Pizza's here!"

I followed Frannie to the table and sat next to Puck. He nudged a piece of Canadian bacon pizza at me and gestured for me to eat. I took it and nibbled on the tip as my sister spoke to me.

"Have you talked to Mom and Dad yet tonight?" When I shook my head, she went on. "They said they think Obama's going to win."
"Good," said Puck from beside me. "I don't want Clinton in office. Last thing our country needs is a woman in charge," he said, winking at me. I rolled my eyes.

"I don't care who wins, really."

"What about your parents?" asked Puck, his mouth full of pizza. He paused for a moment, giving me a nasty view of half-chewed pizza when he opened his mouth to cool off the too-hot pizza he'd shoved into his mouth. He swallowed hard after a second. "Mine hate Obama, but that's probably because they're racist assholes."

"They want Clinton, even though our dad hates that she's a woman. Our mom, however, loves that fact."

"Women." Puck snorted derisively, shaking his head. When I glared at him, he winked again. "Only kidding."

"And this is why you're single." I said, dropping the crust of pizza on his plate.

"Hey," he said, picking up the crust and popping the entire thing into his mouth. "I'm not a one-girl kind of guy, alright?" He grinned, flashing chewed pizza at me again. "I'm single as a dollar and not looking to change."

I rolled my eyes. "You kill me."

Frannie gave me her typical bright smile and leaned over the table toward me, lifting a hand. "You know, you aren't exactly the best person to make single jokes, Quinnie," she said, and flicked me in the forehead.

"Ouch." I said, rubbing the spot where her forefinger had smacked me. "I'm single by choice, thank you, unlike this pig."

Puck snorted again, and I couldn't help but to smile. He might be an idiot and clueless when it came to girls, but he was a good guy at heart.

Frannie glanced at the time on her cell phone before looking up at Puck. "Are you coming?"

Puck stuffed the last bit of pizza into his mouth and stood up. "Duh."

"Okay, well, we need to go now, then. Or we're going to be late."

"Where are you going?" I asked, standing to let Puck out of the booth.

"To celebrate." Puck grinned. He rolled his hips in a crude suggestion and Frannie punched him in the arm. "Damn," said Puck, laughing and rubbing his arm. "Just being truthful."

"I don't think my sister wants to hear that," chuckled Frannie, opening her arms.

"Yeah, I don't." I moved into them and hugged her, quickly as it was obvious that she and Puck needed to be on their way. I wondered if Frannie would ask him why he and I had came into Breadstix together, and if she would guess we had fooled around tonight. Frannie and Puck were actually friends, a common scandal at Mckinley High. Frannie, the leader of the celibacy club with a perfect 4.0 GPA and a smile as sweet and innocent as her baby-fine blonde hair and cute flowing sundresses she wore, hanging out with Puckerman, typical school bad-boy, kicked off the football team as a freshman, getting held back a year, constantly partying and selling weed and sleeping with so many girls it was a wonder he hadn't knocked any of them up yet. It would cause an uproar at school if people knew I'd made out with him tonight, and I was sure it would probably annoy Frannie. Not because she was jealous or anything; no, Frannie only saw Puck as an endearing albeit pain-in-the-ass little brother, despite the fact that he'd tried to get in her pants on more than one occasion. Frannie had her eyes on someone else, someone that only I knew about, and that would greatly upset Puck if he knew. It was a secret that Frannie made me swear never to tell, and one I would take to the grave.
"Where are you going, exactly?"

"It's a party out in the city." I raised my eyebrows, surprised, and Frannie smiled, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. "I know, I don't usually do this. Not my type of thing. But, well, it was playoffs today, and we won, and I'm a senior so this is probably my only chance to do this. We'll probably be back pretty late tonight. Cover for me?" When I nodded, Frannie gave me that typical Frannie Fabray smile, full of sweetness, with a type of coy slyness behind it. Then she waved, and I watched as she, Puck, and a few other girls and boys from the Cheerio's and the football team walked out the door. And that was the last time I would ever see my sister.

I left Breadstix and walked home to sit in the kitchen and listen to my mother fume over Obama's impending victory as she vigorously stirred cake mix while my Dad raged from the living room as he watched all the blue appearing on the television screen. Later, after licking clean the bowl of white cake mix since I wasn't allowed to eat the cake until Frannie was home due to it being made to celebrate the football victory, I headed to my room.

I lay in my bed and absently flicked through the text messages on my phone, wondering whether or not Frannie would drink at the party. I wondered if Santana Lopez was also at the party. My heart shuddered, and I felt as though it had been stabbed at the mere fleeting thought of her. I had not spoken to my best friend in three months. Santana and I had known each other since primary school, and yet two years and three weeks into high school and several boyfriends in between caused a rift between us that both perplexed and infuriated me.

No, don't lie to yourself.

I wasn't totally clueless when it came to our rift. I helped cause it. I was forced to. Who knew what the consequences could have been otherwise…

I set my phone on the nightstand, cleared my throat uncomfortably, squeezed my eyes shut and rolled over in bed, curling into a ball and clutching my stuffed cheetah tightly to my chest. I didn't want to think about what happened three months ago between Santana and I. I didn't want to think about the way her dark eyes flitted over to me every time she and Brittany walked past me in the hallway with their pinky fingers interlocked. I didn't want to think about the ache I felt inside when I watched her cheering on the varsity team while I just sat there wrapping my ankle hating how much I missed her. I didn't want to think about the fact that I regretted what happened between us every second of the day. And I sure as hell didn't want to think about how alone and empty I felt without her anymore. I didn't want to think about anything. Especially Santana.

Slowly, I began to drift into sleep. I was almost satisfied with who I was as my mind clouded over and a drowsy slumber overtook me. I was the first freshman to make captain of the Cheerios, until my injury forced me to revert to the junior varsity squad while I healed. I was the sister of Frannie Fabray, practically the queen of Mckinley High. I was the daughter of Russell Fabray, the most prominent lawyer in Lima Heights and a state official, and Judy Fabray, head of the church committee. I was someone who could walk down the hallways at school and have people part for me like the red sea. I was Quinn Fabray. I may not be the happiest person, in fact I definitely wasn't, but life was okay, and I was okay with that fact.

At a quarter past three in the morning, I was roused from my bed from the sound of loud, keening sobs so filled with anguish that I immediately fled downstairs, my heart sunk to my feet, to find my mother limp in my father's arms and the phone clattering to the floor. My father's face was stark - white, his eyes huge and wide-open, and my mother's face was a sight too painful to even behold. It was at that moment that numbness settled into me, so swiftly and easily that I think that in all the years of my life, it had just been waiting to enter me, to poison me into the sweet oblivion of no sensation.

Slowly, I turned to face the open doorway that stood near the hallway, between the kitchen and living room. The horrified feeling rooted in my brain, my heart, was confirmed; my sister's bed was empty.