Chapter 3:
Speeding into the parking lot, Quinn skidded to a halt into a parking spot. She slid out of the bucket seats and adjusted the hem to her dress. No longer required to wear the requisite Cheerios ponytail, her long blonde hair swayed as she walked into the school. Her presence no longer commanded the fear it once had, but students still scurried out of her way. The cocked eyebrow and sneer had long been replaced with an apathetic calm over her face.
She approached her locker which neighbored those of her best friends. Santana and Brittany had become best friends again, based on appearances and linked pinkies. Quinn knew otherwise. She had spent many a night consoling the Latina over her lost love. Brittany and Artie remained together and appeared to be a force that was untouchable. So Quinn did what any best friend would do: provide a shoulder and a Fort Knox approach towards their secret sob sessions. Santana reciprocated, though she was never sure what it was, exactly, that had left Quinn so sad.
A brief nod acknowledged the pair.
"Hey Q. We were just discussing the merit of this shindig Berry is throwing," Santana said.
"I don't understand what this has to do with badges and Girl Scouts."
Santana smiled at Brittany. The girl amazed her. She could be so perceptive of the minutiae of everyday life and relationships but be confused so easily.
"No not the Girl Scouts, B. Just trying to decide if we should go tonight to Berry's house."
Quinn had already made up her mind but she didn't want to let on her eagerness. "I guess I'm in. Could be fun to see what kind of damage can happen this time around at a Berry party." She was glad she had her locker door open as it shielded the view of the smile that stretched across her face at the thought of the party.
"Artie wants to go, so I'll be there." Brittany added.
Santana regarded this statement. She hated Artie. Downright abhorred the boy. If Brittany was involved, she was there though. "I guess I'm in. As long as I can gets me some drinks, it'll be worth it."
"Want me to pick you up?" Quinn offered.
Brittany declined. "No, Artie is driving his van."
"How romantic," Santana deadpanned. "Q, you can pick me up. How about at 9? Fashionably late as usual?"
"Sounds perfect. I better get to history. The joy of Mr. Thompson and the Magna Carta await." Quinn flashed a sarcastic grin at her friends, closed her locker, and made her way down the hallway. She loved her friends, she really did, but they needed to get over this schism and move on or get back at it. This pining and rejecting had to stop.
She had just become lost in her thoughts as she rounded the hallway corridor approaching her classroom. She entered the room and noticed the dozen or so classmates that were already there. It was a small class as most McKinley students saw no point in AP World History. Quinn was undoubtedly enthralled with it. She loved the stories that were told, the feats of greatness, and the outright risks others had taken. She daydreamed about taking those kinds of risks and achieving greatness herself someday. Going past the contrived front that she put forth. Accepting and projecting what actually lurked underneath. McKinley just wasn't the right time for that, whatever it was, she convinced herself. The right day would come and she would let her guard down but for now she continued on with her air of indifference.
Walking to her usual seat, she scanned the room and saw that most of the heads were down, undoubtedly close to sleep. First period classes had that effect. One head stood out though. Perched upon perfect posture, the head of Rachel Berry was alert and, as usual, smiling brightly. Quinn wanted to hate the girl and her bubbliness but just couldn't. Especially not today. No, she looked forward to the party that evening to be unhappy with the girl.
As if on cue, Rachel turned around, catching Quinn analyzing her from behind as she sat down. She considered her for a moment before flashing the biggest of smiles and greeting her.
"Good morning Quinn. I appreciate you accepting my invitation to my soiree this evening. You did it promptly as well! Facebook does make things easier, don't you think? I truly believe it shall be an excellent event and a great chance for us to bond before this fantastic opportunity. New York City has been a dream of mine and…"
"Berry!" Quinn cut her off, shaking her head and smiling. "No need for paragraphs. Bullet points, please."
"Oh, well then. Just thank you is in order. I look forward to your presence this evening."
Quinn tried to maintain her indifference but couldn't deny the effervescent brunette. "Yea, I'm actually really looking forward to it. I think it's a great idea for some bonding before we take nationals." She nodded enthusiastically.
Rachel appeared dazed. Perhaps she hadn't expected Quinn's response, but the blonde also noticed a slow blush creep up the diva's face. She tried to glance away but was mesmerized, noticing the blush emanated from lower. Following the trail lower, a trail of red went lower down below her oxford shirt. Quinn just could not bring herself to look away from the girl.
"I'm glad you'll be there," Rachel mumbled. At this, Quinn felt her own blush begin to come through.
A cough interrupted their moment.
"Alright class, the last lesson left us discussing the House of Plantagenet and House of Valois. Who can tell me about the Hundred Years' War?"
Mr. Thompson had arrived and was ready to begin the class. At this, Rachel gave Quinn a shy smile before turning around in her seat and facing forward. Quinn brought her hand to her cheek and could feel the warmth radiating from her blushing. Why was she so warm? Why was she now, more than ever, looking forward to the party tonight? Particularly for spending time with the brunette who sat ahead of her?
Unbeknownst to Quinn, Rachel was left pondering along the same line but instead thinking of a certain blonde behind her.