She notices her straight away, one, because the only dresses allowed inside this hall were ones past the knee, and her one was a little north of what was required, and two, her ridiculously cocky smirk that she wore like a medal made her stand out completely. Quinn Fabray was used to humble and shy girls inside these walls, but this one was not like the others.

"Do you know her?" Quinn hears her mother whisper behind her.

Eyes darting from the stranger to her mother, she shakes her head. "No, of course not."

Judy Fabray shakes her head furiously. "I don't understand why girls think it's attractive to show off what should be hidden. Quinnie, you know better, don't you?"

"Mm, of course."

"Look at all these people just ogling at her," she mumbles. "This is exactly why your father and I refuse to have you on that cheerleading team. That skirt is far too short for a Fabray, for a girl with class."

Holding in sigh, Quinn turns around with a soft smile. "Thank you, mum, you're right." She doesn't really mean it though, because Quinn really wanted to be on the Cheerios. However when she came home one day, excited as she'd ever been, screaming about how she was offered a place on the team, all she received was a roll of the eyes and a "Quinn Fabray, have you seen those uniforms? Your father would rather sell the house and everything in it before we let you join."

The stranger has not been approached yet, rather she's gotten several glares that are supposed to imply that she needs to get out, right now and for her to not look back at all, and Quinn hates that these people are too afraid to approach someone who even looks slightly different to them. The outsider is definitely not the typical skinny white girl Quinn's so used to seeing every Sunday. She's got curves and dark skin, and she's totally exotic and new to her. The blonde narrows her eyes when she sees the function runner – a frequent visitor at Quinn's church, a one Miss Daisy Mills – who was giving the younger a female a more than obvious glare while she whispers something in her ear. The girl in the red dress smiles what is definitely a fake smile, before she flips her hair, gives Miss Daisy Mills the finger and leaves, black heels clicking on the tiles of the hall.

Judy gasps, "The nerve of that girl." Quinn side eyes her mother, yes, it was totally, totally, inappropriate and unnecessary for her to give that gesture, but… it was kind of interesting, and these events are always so repetitive…

But Quinn knows better than speak out against her mother, so she just nods instead.

She sometimes likes being at events like this, because the people around her are quiet and sweet, and when you're stuck at school with the loud, rude and obnoxious ones, it's nice to have a change. But sometimes (most of the time) she just wants to run free. She's a Fabray and she should know better, after all Fabray women are classy and never step a toe out of line, but the girl wants to experience things greater than what's in the four church walls she's trapped in every Sunday. She wants to get out and live: London, Paris, New York, please. Her parents already have their eye set on her husband – yes, the Fabray parents feel it is necessary to pick the man who will defile their daughter – as well as college, career ("be a teacher before you start a family, Quinn!") and wedding venue. So Quinn leaves quickly, just for a moment, and walks to the bathroom as fast as her legs will take her. It's overwhelming, the people and the stares, so getting out is a mission that needs to be completed.

Quinn enters the bathroom, resting her hands on the sink as she stares into the mirror. She knows she's pretty and that she catches eyes, but she catches them for the wrong reason: she's the sweet, innocent, wide eyed little girl, which was fine she was four, but not now, not when she's had the good label stuck to her since birth. She washes her hands, careful to avoid wetting her dress, when she hears that familiar sound of heels on tiles once again. A cubicle door opens and oh my gosh, she's here, in the bathroom, a meter away from Quinn and its genuinely scary. The stranger washes her hands, and Quinn really tries not to look at her, but she can't help it and crap, she notices straight away.

"Yes?" The darker girl asks, raising one neat eyebrow, and there's a certain tone in her voice that's intimidating.

Quickly shaking her head, Quinn speaks. "Nothing, nothing."

"You were staring at me," she replies, turning the tap off.

"I wasn't."

"I'm not into girl on girl action, princess of the Celibacy ball, so don't bother," she says with a smirk.

Quinn tries not to pout. "I wasn't…" But she has nothing else to say.

But she cuts Quinn off. "Never mind, can you get me some food?"

"… Excuse me?"

Groaning, the stranger rolls her yes. "I only snuck into this thing for a free feed. You think I want to celebrate the Lord and Jesus and whoever else in the Bible?" She must sense that Quinn is a little offended so she sighs, looking down at the sink before letting her murky eyes meet the lighter ones. "My parents were fighting, okay? And as soon as one word leaves their mouths that indicate World War Three, I leave. I didn't get to eat. I walked and found this place and saw the sign outside and I have no money, so… Get me some grub, girl."

"Like, in here? You're gonna eat in the bathroom?" Quinn whispers.

"Well where else can I go?" The brunette asks. "You think your little God Squad will let me eat a three course meal out there with them? No."

"Maybe if you dressed a little more appropriately," Quinn mutters.

"Don't mock my dress, princess; have you taken a look at yours?" She snaps back. There's a silence between the two, Quinn looking down at her dress while the other female stares at the figure before her. "Look, I'm sorry. I get cranky when I'm hungry. Could you just… get me a bread roll or something?"

Looking back up to meet her face, Quinn sort of feels bad. She knows what its like to have parents fight, and while she's never left the house hungry while doing so, she understands how it hurts to hear your parents throw insults at one another. "Wait here," she sighs, "I'll get what I can. Hide in a cubicle in case someone comes in." With one last look at the girl, Quinn pushes the door open and makes a straight line towards the catering table where she grabs a paper plate. Putting what she can on it before it overflows, Quinn grabs a can of soft drink and a few napkins before turning around to get to her destination.

"Quinn, are you eating all of that?"

The tall blonde turns around to see her dad. "Daddy," she smiles. "I'm hungry, I haven't had lunch."

"Your mother won't approve, darling," he smiles. Not a dad to daughter smile, its one of those familiar I'm better than you 'cause I'm your dad and you're my daughter smile.

"She knows I haven't eaten since breakfast," Quinn lies, "you don't want me starve, do you?"

Her dad rolls her eyes despite the silly situation. "Go, go eat."

And with that, Quinn goes back to meet the girl in the bathroom.

"Well shit, I was expecting a biscuit or two, not the whole McDonalds menu," is the first thing she hears when she goes back inside.

Quinn shrugs. "I figured you were hungry and needed more than a slice of bread. Hope its okay."

The girl looks up. "… Thanks. I'm Santana," she says with a change of tone. It's got the potential to from code green to sarcastic bitch in a second, but it's calm and soft, and the recognition sounded genuine.

"Quinn."

"So… do you go to these things a lot?" Santana asks, holding the paper plate with one hand while attempting to dip a bread roll into a small packet of whipped butter. "You seem like the type."

Rolling her eyes, she nods. "Why does everyone say that?"

"What?"

"That I seem like the type. I mean… I can be bad," Quinn says not so confidently.

It's then Santana chokes on the bread. "Oh, you were being serious," she says after calming down and seeing the look on Quinn's face. "Totally, I believe you."

"No, you don't," Quinn retorts. "Am I seriously that predictable? You don't even know me and you already know that these sorts of things are a usual Friday for me."

The dark haired girl shrugs. "Whatever, doesn't mean you have to be a sweet little angel all the type. Go out, party, lose your virginity." Quinn looks up at that last part with a small glare. "Mm, sorry," Santana says, a small laugh falling from her red lips. "Don't be so serious, I was joking."

But Quinn doesn't reply for a while. "Are you new here?"

"Fresh from Texas," Santana says. "We live a few blocks away, near some restaurant dedicated to breadsticks or something."

"That's near McKinley," Quinn perks up. "Are you going there?"

Santana nods. "Senior year, baby," she says sarcastically, eating her fries. "Your last year too?"

She nods before she realizes how long she's been in the bathroom. "Yeah, but I've gotta go. You need to leave too. If someone else comes in here they'll destroy you-"

"I'm not sacred of your priest-"

"You're trespassing, technically," Quinn keeps going. "So you could get into trouble. Eat your food and leave out the window, okay?"

Santana downs the last bits of liquid before nodding. "Hang out with me on Monday."

"At school?"

"Duh," Santana rolls her eyes. "I'm new and you're hot so your probably have a bunch of friends," she says, opening the window and pushing her body up until she's close enough to get out. "I've never been the new girl, so you gotta show me the ropes, okay princess? Be nice to me."

"Um… okay," Quinn says as Santana jumps out the window, feeling like she didn't really have a choice.