Sorry for any mistakes! This chapter isn't my best but will certainly improve as I carry on. Thank you for the reviews
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Quinn couldn't help smiling to herself as she emerged from the apartment building and started walking down Stratton Street. It was only ten o'clock in the morning, due to Bridget's morning wake up call, but the streets were already buzzing with tourists and families. The late august heat was laced with a cool breeze that made her shiver with anticipation. She couldn't wait to see the trees flanking the avenue's turn a brilliant orange, red and yellow. She couldn't wait to snuggle up in a cashmere Burberry coat and sip hot chocolate on one of the benches lining Hyde Park with Bridget in the thick of winter. But she was nervous about tomorrow, where she'd have to start at a brand new college with a group of elite girls who wore nothing but designer and only lived in penthouse's or giant mansions in Mayfair.
She turned onto New Bond Street, pausing at the large glass-plate windows of the Calvin-Klein boutique on the corner of Regent Street, noticing her reflection in the windows. With her mid-length brilliant gold hair framing her perfect face and a light pink Diane von Furstenberg sleeveless wrap dress hugging her petite frame, she looked like any other Upper West sider in London out for a stroll.
In Ohio, where designer clothes were a rarity and a party meant drinking a six-pack a some jock's house, Quinn had always wanted something different. Ohio was her home, but London was her life.
Finally she was right where she belonged and even the pain of having to leave Beth behind was slowly healing. It would never be completely healed, but she was going to prove that Beth had someone to be proud of and she'd never let her down. Not again.
Quinn tore herself away from the shop window and continued to walk down New Bond Street. Just pass the corner of Oxford Street she reached the door to Louis Vuitton and smiled shyly as the dapper, black-suited doorman held it open. She breathed in deeply as she entered, the aching scent of Creed Fleurissimo hitting her along with the AC. It had been her grandmother's favourite perfume, and Quinn could practically feel the elderly Fabray's presence guiding her towards the true designer purses.
Quinn walked through the luxury handbag department, reverently touching the crocodile skin and leathers. Her eyes stopped on a cognac coloured Vuitton satchel, and her stomach fluttered. Finally! She'd been looking for the perfect bag to carry her college work in all summer.
Its gold buckles reminded of the antique chest she'd left behind in Ohio. It had been left to her by her grandparent's and she'd treasured it ever since. All of Beth's belongings had been kept in their since she was born. Of course, when Quinn had left she took Beth's most vulnerable belongings with her, but some remained there, locked away safely in her treasure chest.
"Exquisite piece." Quinn heard a smooth voice over her shoulder. She turned around and took in the sales lady behind her. She was in her mid-forties, with grey-streaked hair pulled into a sleek bun.
"It's beautiful." Quinn agreed, wishing the saleslady would disappear. She had enough trouble getting saleswomen to leave her alone in Ohio, she didn't need it here. She wanted this moment to be pure; between her and the purse.
"Limited edition." The saleslady noted. Her name tag read NATALIE. "It was actually claimed but we never heard back from the buyer…would you be interested?" Natalie raised her perfectly plucked eyebrows.
Quinn nodded, transfixed. It reminded her of home and for the past three years she'd been pushing any memories of home away, but today she wanted a reminder. She felt ready to finally move on.
She glanced at the price tag – three thousand pounds. She narrowed her eyes in thought. She hadn't really brought much since she'd arrived in London, except helped pay rent even though Bridget had refused. She'd told Quinn to save her money instead. It was nice to have someone take such good care of her, not because Bridget had to, but because she genuinely wanted too. But Quinn still helped out when she could anyway. However, now she was earning £300 a night in tips when she worked so she could easily pay for the purse.
"I'll take it." She smiled, reaching out her newly painted nails to retrieve her new purchase.
"Oh, there you are!"
Quinn and Natalie both turned in unison to see a willowy girl with cascading strawberry blonde hair and a freckled complexion sweep across the marble floor. Quinn paused, confused. Even in a fluttering white Milly summer dress with enormous D&G sunglasses perched on her head, the girl looked exactly like a ballerina she'd seen in a famous painting.
"I came to pick up my bag. So sorry I didn't get your messages – I was in the Canaries." She sighed deeply, coming to a stand just in front of Quinn. "Thanks again for holding it." The girl went to grab it from Quinn's hands, but she moved backwards, completely in awe of the girl's demeanour. She held out her hands as if Quinn's job had been to hold it for her. Quinn arched her eyebrow as she stared at the girl.
"You must be Jayme Regan." Natalie pressed her lips into a tight line as she turned to the girl. "Unfortunately, because we do have a release policy and we have somebody interested, I'm afraid that we'll have to put you back on the waiting list.
Quinn tried to hide an amused smile, hoping she didn't look like as much of a bitch as this Jayme girl did. No one at West London High's college for girls could have this bag. It seemed all the more valuable now that Quinn saw how in demand it was. Jayme placed a dainty hand on the strap of the satchel.
"I can see why you need a new bag." Jayme glanced pointedly at Quinn's worn Louis Vuitton Speedy purse. It had been a present from her dad when she was twelve and it was well loved. Her, Santana and Brittany had shared it for years, loving that no one else had even touched a designer bag yet they had one of their own. "There are some outside you might be interested in."
Quinn narrowed her addictive hazel eyes at the girl and gripped the bag's shoulder strap tighter in her grasp.
Outside? As in, the tacky knockoffs hocked by vendors on the street? She was speechless.
"Now that that's settled," Jayme went on, tightening her grasp around the Louis Vuitton's satchel's strap. "Can we please take care of this?" she ordered Natalie haughtily, her green eyes flashing.
Natalie drew herself up to her full height of five foot one. She stood comically between the two girls who were each a few inches taller and faced each other eye to eye above her head. "That's the only one we have." She began authoritatively. "It's a limited edition and rather fragile, so I'm sure you will both be able to sort something out." She reached for Jayme's fingers, trying to pry them away from the leather.
"I don't think that will be necessary." Quinn assured her, giving the bag a soft but unexpected tug that took Jayme by surprise. She stumbled forward, losing her grip. Take that bitch, Quinn smirked. She was surprised by her own confidence, but something about that girl really got under her skin.
Before Jayme could regain her balance, Quinn strode quickly across the store towards the counter, Natalie right behind her as she clutched the purse protectively against her chest. Natalie ran quickly around to the other side of the counter as Quinn produced her credit card, handing it over before Jayme approached her.
The card swept like a dream and Quinn watched over her shoulder as Jayme caught up with her, staring her down with true hatred and impatience mixed with anger. Natalie professionally packaged the satchel handing it over to Quinn and signalling discreetly for her to escape before Jayme said anymore. She did as she was told, eagerly escaping the girls steely glare as she strode back through the door, shooting Jayme a too bad smile over her shoulder, leaving Natalie to deal with the aftermath.
As she crossed Oxford Street, a cute woman in a river island running outfit jogged by, smiling at her. Quinn smiled broadly back, the sunlight beating down on her through the trees and shop buildings. Tomorrow, she could begin a brand new chapter of her life and Jayme Regan would be nothing but a distant memory – some bitchy diva who had tried to steal her purse. Never to be heard of again.
Maybe. The thing is London is a very big city, but Mayfair is a very elite side of it.
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"Do I look okay? Are we doing okay for time?" Quinn asked. Bridget could sense the nerves behind Quinn's calm exterior as she sipped on her hot chocolate. They turned down Oxford Street, past all the boutiques and then walked towards the red brick building on Leighton Avenue that housed West London College.
"Yeah. You look gorgeous and we're perfectly okay for time." Bridget responded, trying to sound a little more annoyed than she really felt. She failed. Quinn had been the one freaking out that they were going to be late and made them leave the hotel at eight am even though classes didn't start until nine. "I don't think I'm going to stay too long anyway." Bridget shrugged mysteriously as she pulled her cascading tousled hair into a messy bun, slipping her D&G sunglasses on.
"Why are you wearing that sweatshirt again? I only washed it last night." Quinn glanced at the red jersey Bridget had refused to take off since Josh had left. Quinn loved that Bridget was romantic but why couldn't Josh leave her something like a tiffany necklace to remember him by? Quinn hated that every time she saw that jersey she was reminded that Bridget wasn't and probably never would be hers. Her heart belonged to someone entirely different and Quinn doubted Bridget was ready to move on from that.
Not that she'd ever tell Bridget that.
"Please can you take it off? All the other students will be walking round in Jersey's by tomorrow if they see you in one today." Quinn grinned, but Bridget shook her head stubbornly, smiling gently as Quinn bumped their hips together. "Please?" she tried again, more sweetly this time, seeing that Bridget had no intention of taking it off.
Bridget winked and poked her tongue out, teasing the blonde a little longer making her laugh, before giving in and pulling the jersey of over her head. "Only because you asked politely." She smiled, tapping Quinn on the nose before skipping off, carefree. She truly was beautiful, her smile was wide and sexy, her cheeks were naturally blushed and her Latin roots from her mother's side gave her a sexy tanned complexion that complimented her wavy brunette hair and light dusting of freckles across her nose. Her body was toned from years of street dancing and she'd grown to five foot six, three inches taller than Quinn. "And only because it's you." Bridget added, shouting back over her shoulder.
"There, that's so much better." Santana smiled contently, catching up with the brunette before they turned the corner together into the large private gate of the College. "Here we go," Quinn mumbled as they walked through the giant, royal blue, rotating doors into the college's foyer. She looked around nervously at the sea of students all waiting to receive their timetables or sign up for extra activities. Girls huddled in corners, gossiping and catching up and boys welcomed each other with high-fives, but they all turned and looked when they walked in through the doors. Bridget strode in confidently, not noticing the stares or admiring glances, she was used to it after all. Quinn on the other hand, felt a little less confident seeing quite how popular Bridget really was.
It was daunting to say the least.
Bridget led Quinn across the large foyer, still sipping casually on a warm hot chocolate. It may still have been summer, but the temperature in the morning was gradually declining. Girls smiled at her from every corner of the foyer and Bridget casually waved back, smiling. They headed towards one of the three lifts, straight away claiming one when a group of younger students stepped aside for them.
"Is there a bathroom near here?" Quinn asked, fiddling with the buttons on her button-down dress.
"Straight down there, right next to our French class." Bridget gestured towards a room with a neat sign above it reading ROOM 125. Just next to it were the girl's bathrooms.
"Thanks, I'll catch up with you in a sec." Quinn said distractedly as Bridget turned into their French class, eyeing her usual seat straight away.
Quinn stood in front of the mirror above the row of sinks and washed her hands even though she didn't need to. To the left and right of her were girls she guessed were her classmates. She eyed one girl in the mirror who was applying a little too much make up for her liking. The girl smiled at her briefly, eyeing her beneath her freshly cut fringe before returning to frown in the mirror.
Quinn quickly dried her hands with a paper towel, unsure whether the girl was being nice or had totally overlooked her.
As she emerged from the bathroom, she glanced down the hall hoping Bridget was waiting outside. She wasn't.
She walked in, passing Bridget who was purposely sat by the exit. The brunette winked at her as Quinn found the only spare seat in the class, front and centre. She noted Bridget was sat on a desk on her own, clearly separated by the teacher on purpose, most likely for talking Quinn guessed, smiling to herself.
"So, Jayme left the Canary islands early to spend time with her father?" The blonde heard as she sat down in her seat. She was sat next to a large chested girl who was pretty but didn't seem very interested in her presence.
"Yeah." The pretty girl next to her said in a bored voice as she played with two Hermes Enamel bracelets on her pale wrist. "I was only in the canaries for a few weeks but she left during her last week there."
Quinn smiled. She never been to the Canary Islands, yet it had been one of her options when she decided to leave home. But Jayme… wasn't that the name of that bitch she met the other day? Quinn calmly smoothed her shimmering blonde hair, limiting any fly always. Hopefully it was just a really popular West side name like Madison or Chloe.
Suddenly, the girl next to her whose books stated the name April Porter looked at her expectantly. Quinn frowned back at her in confusion.
"Steal any more bags yesterday?" she heard a voice behind her. As she turned around, she found herself face to face with her own reflection, looking back at her from the brass buckle of a Louis Vuitton satchel identical to hers. She slowly looked up. Standing there, smiling down at her, was Jayme Regan wearing beige Christian Louboutin pumps and a perfectly worn in pair of apple-bottom jeans, looking even taller and bitchier than she had yesterday.
"Um- no actually. Never have. Did you?" Quinn smirked pointedly looking at the bag before making direct eye contact to warn her to back off. Jayme clearly wasn't going to let the new girl win.
"Next time you might want to visit Target or another outlet from Ohio, you don't want to be out of your league here." Jayme announced, smiling at the two girls behind Quinn. "Also, you're going to have to move, because you're in my seat." Jayme unpacked a notebook and a sleek sliver Montblanc pen from her satchel and spread them territorially over the desk. "You can sit over by the door, in case you need to make a run for it." She suggested in a fake, syrupy voice. "After you steal Madame Kavanagh's purse or whatever."
Her eyes flashing, Quinn stood up and whispered "Fuck you." In Jayme's ear earning a shocked gasp as she shoved past her, signalling for Bridget to move over so she could join her. Bridget hadn't been paying attention, instead carving something into her desk, but her head whipped up immediately, eyeing Jayme dangerously. No one ever messed with anyone she talked too. That was common knowledge.
"I wouldn't bother sitting with Bridget. She's miles above you. Find a seat on your own" Jayme ordered, as if Quinn belonged to her. Bridget stood up angrily, her normal calmness had disappeared, something Quinn hadn't witnessed before. Neither had anyone else.
Jayme suddenly realized she'd made a big mistake. A massive one in fact. She swallowed loudly, stepping back slowly.
With her wrinkly navy fashion blazer, tousled hair and dark shades Bridget-Tate looked like Kate Moss in her rehab years as she approached Jayme, slowly dragging her pedicured nails across the smaller girl's desk, immediately intimating the freckled blonde. "Don't even think about it bitch. I would have thought that sort of behaviour was beneath you." Bridget smirked, her words fierce as Jayme stepped back in defeat. "Coward." Bridget laughed, taking Jayme's pen from her desk and turning on her heel. "Thanks for the pen babe. Needed one." She grinned as she slid back down next to Quinn, sharing a knowing wink.
Game On.
"What was that about?" Bridget asked, pushing her sunglasses of her face and onto her head so she could examine the strawberry blonde glaring at them. She smiled fakely at her and waved. The Upper West side was so full of bitches she thought to herself. "What's her problem anyway?" Bridget asked loudly, not caring who heard since she practically owned the room. Quinn could practically feel all eyes on the two of them.
"I don't know." She whispered back. She hadn't told Bridget about the Louis Vuitton debacle yesterday, knowing Bridget would never let her live it down. She'd simply crawled into B's bed instead, wanting to be with someone. Yesterday had reminded her that she was sometimes still very much alone, but Bridget cancelled out all those feelings.
She pulled her black TSE cashmere cardigan on and buttoned it. Madame Kavanagh walked in wearing an elegant black Tocca pantsuit. She was in her sixties, but had aged well like most of the women on this side of London. She put her books on her desk and surveyed the classroom of girls. Most of them were overachievers like Bridget who had been asked to join French for the second year simply because they had potential; some had actually chosen it the first year. Like Jayme.
"Welcome back girls." She said. "Jayme, as always, a delight to have you here." She added noting Jayme seated in the front. Bridget and Quinn each rolled their eyes. "Since we have some new girls here today, we will be introducing ourselves in French today. Jayme, can you take notes on the board please?"
Jayme stood up. "Of course. Is there any chalk I can steal?" she hissed in Quinn's direction as she swished gracefully to the front of the class, her highlighted hair swinging.
Madame Kavanagh spotted Quinn suddenly and clapped her hands together as if seeing her was the most exciting thing she'd ever seen. Quinn groaned in her seat. This was turning into her idea of hell.
"Our new student! Perhaps you'd like to introduce yourself?" She smiled, her eyes shining with enthusiasm.
"peut-être qu'elle aimerait nous parler de ses choix de mode intéressantes?" Jayme suggested innocently, before Quinn or Bridget could get a word out. Perhaps she'd like to tell us about her interesting fashion choices? She held the piece of chalk up to the board as if Quinn may not realise the sarcasm in her tone and might actually answer.
"Quelle Bitch!" Bridget burst out, making no effort to hide her outburst. Quinn's head whipped round to glare at Bridget, a slow smile gracing her lips which she tried and failed to disguise.
"Excusez-moi?" Madame Kavanagh's aristocratic face grew red.
"Excusez-moi" Bridget smiled.
Très Apologetic..
"Mais, comment dit-on bitch." Bridget continued, speaking in perfect French. "Parce que je pense que c'est le meilleur mot pour de'cerire cette fille." She pointed at Jayme.
Quinn quickly parsed the words as best as she could considering she only really knew Spanish. Bridget had spoken rapidly, like a true native speaker, which was impressive. Except that she'd just announced that Jayme Regan was a bitch.
Quinn hid her smile as she looked down, desperate to avoid Madame Kavanagh's glance. Bridget was still standing, not bothered as the other students watched her, desperate to hide their own smiles.
"Sortez!" Madame Kavanagh demanded. "Too Mrs Mclean's office, please." She added more softly, desperate to maintain some order within the class.
"Au revior." Bridget grinned, and collected her own cognac shoulder bag that she rested over one shoulder rather than across her body. It had be a one of design created by her mother during London's fashion week. "Come on Quinn." She said gently, waiting for the blonde to vacate her seat. Winking at Jayme over her shoulder, Bridget grabbed Quinn's hand and led her out the class, laughing her usual raspy laugh as her eyes twinkled brightly.
"Nice." Quinn grinned, following Bridget into the corridor.
Well…she could always learn French tomorrow.
