Faberry Week. Day 3. Drunk!
"QUIIIIIIINNIEEE!"
"Shh! Stop screaming, Berry. You'll wake everyone up."
"NOOOOOO! WHY ARE YOU CALLING ME THAT, QUIIIIINNIEEEEE?"
"Shh! It's your name. And you're still screaming. Can you please stop screaming?"
"Ok, ok! But don't call me Berry. I mean, I know I'm sssuper sssweet, but it makes me go like thisss."
"Stop making that face, you look ridiculous. You're calling me Quinnie. No one is allowed to do that. Therefore I can call you Berry if I want to."
"Not even your moooom, Quiiinnieee?"
"RACHEL! Sorry. Rachel, please, no more calling me Quinnie. My mom can call me Quinnie because she's my mom. She can call me whatever she wants. She's allowed. Okay?"
"Even Luuuuucy?"
"Yes, Rachel, if she wants, she can call me Lucy."
"Can I?"
"Absolutely not."
"I'll call you Lucy and you can call me Raquel! Because Then I can be Mexican and drink more tequila!"
"No more tequila for you, Raquel. And no calling me Lucy. Ever."
"You're grumpy, Quinnie. Quinn. Why are you sooooo gruuuumpy?"
"I'm not grumpy, Rachel. I'm just sober."
"But whyyyyyy?"
"Because last time I drank it was disastrous."
"No, it wasn't, Quinn! We just went to karaoke and I sang and everyone was in aaawe!"
"That was the last time I drank with you. Last time I drank was horrible."
"Did you pass out? Throw up? Did you make out with a stranger?"
"Yes. Yes. Yes, more than one. I also tried to take my clothes off and then I cried for a bit and then threw up a bit more. "
"Oh."
"Yeah, oh."
Silence.
"Why did you cry?"
"No reason."
"Quinn."
"Rachel."
"Why?"
"No reason."
"Is it a girl? Have I met her? Who, Quinn?"
"Ugh."
"Show me! On Facebook! Pretty please with a Berry, who is me, on top?"
"No. Come on, walk faster. It's cold. How are you still drunk. Too cold for drunk."
"Quiiiiiiiiinnnn."
"Come on, Rach."
"Can't go faster. Piggy back?"
"Ugh, ok"
"SO WHIPPED, FABRAY!"
"Why can that girl scream and I can't? HELLO FRIEND OF QUINN'S!"
"Don't scream, Rachel."
"Wait, why is she saying you're whipped? Is that some sort of Yale slang I don't know, Quinn?"
"Why aren't you saying anything Quinn?"
"Quinn?"
"QUIIIIIINNNN?"
"You. Heavy. Can't. Talk."
"Put me down, tell me, teeeeell meee."
"How do you not know what 'whipped' means, Rachel?"
"I don't go out much, Quinn. I need to focus on my career, and my studies and that leaves little time to fraternize and acquire that sort of knowledge."
"Are you suddenly sober?"
"No I am not. I am still very drunk, Quinn. My vocabulary is not affected by my state of inebriation."
"Rachel, you're freaking me out a bit."
"What does whipped mean? And who is this mystery woman you cried over?"
"I won't tell."
"I won't remember any of this tomorrow. Tequila works in my brain like that MIB device."
"How do you even know that, but you don't know whipped?"
"You made me watch those films with you."
"Didn't think you'd remember."
"I do. I talk a lot but I also pay attention, Quinn."
"I know."
"So tell me."
"No."
"Please?"
"No."
"I will not remember. I swear."
"That's exactly why I can't tell."
"You're awful."
"And you love me."
"That I do, and you love me too because in the garden that is your life, I am the greatest Berry."
"Wow, Rachel."
"Ooooor I'm the brightest star in the sky of you."
"What are you even saying?"
"Ooooor-"
"Let's walk in silence."
"But-"
"No."
"Qu-"
"Shh."
"Okay, but what if-"
"Rachel! Shh."
"I love you."
"I know."