A/N: I'm sorry for leaving for such a long time again, but aah, such lovely reviews! Thanks so much for the gorgeous messages and all the people who have favourited/alerted this story. You're all so wonderful, thank you!
"Okay, can you please tell me why our English teacher is like… giving us the evil eye," Santana mutters, fingers rubbing her temple and elbow resting on the desk in front of her.
Quinn turns around from the conversation the two girls were having and sees that yes, Santana's right, their English teacher is indeed staring at them with narrowed eyes. "I guess he's just used to me sitting at the front and actually paying attention," Quinn replies.
"Okay, are you telling me you've built up such a good girl reputation that the minute you sit in the back of a classroom you're getting interrogated?" Santana's voice becoming slightly louder, her eyebrows rising in disbelief.
The blonde gives a small shrug. "I suppose so. Its high school, people are always gonna have these pre conceived ideas about someone. Who cares what they think?"
Santana's eyes go dark, "you're not gonna give me another speech again, are you? You gushed enough about glee earlier."
Shaking her head with a small laugh, Quinn replies. "Sorry about that. We've just been through a lot together, you know? And we all try to be so supportive with what we do and who we are, we're like a family. It's gonna be hard to say goodbye to them this year. I don't wanna let them go, I love them," she finished.
"Okay, relax, you have plenty of time to spend with them," Sanatan rolls her eyes. "You don't, however, have plenty of time to be young and free."
"Are you gonna give me a speech now?" Quinn smirks. "About how I should realise that we're only young once and that I should live my life to the fullest? Because I'm not that type of girl."
Santana playfully slaps her arm. "Please, every girl is that type of girl. You just need another girl to bring it out. What are you doing this Friday?"
Quinn bites her lip, thinking about whether or not her parents had already made plans for her. "Nothing yet," she confirms, "why?"
"You know that super muscly guy on the football team? Jake something…" She tries to remember. "He invited me to a party when I left your creepy little glee club."
Leaning forward in her chair, Quinn reaches out and grabs her hand in shock. She's both surprised and jealous that Santana's already managed to snag the attention of a popular boy. Jake was known to flirt with all the pretty girls to get into their pants, and some point he tried it on with her a few times, but never again since last Summer. She's annoyed but she hides it, trying to force a look of surprise rather than bitterness. "Wait, this is your first day and you've already got an invite."
Shrugging, Santana packs her books away when they hear the bell ring, announcing the end of their lesson. "Not just an invite, two invites. I asked if I could bring a friend along, you know, playing the coy little girl act that's scared of big parties to lure him in. You're coming."
Quinn stacks her text books on top of another before grabbing them and pressing them to her chest, "I am? What if he doesn't want me there?"
"Please, why won't he? Just wear a hot dress and some heels and he'll sad be that he didn't invite you himself in the first place," Santana smirks, and Quinn feels a sense of both resentment and assurance form Santana. She's proud and gorgeous and fierce, and Santana knows it. Quinn, however, has had doubts about her image – whether people liked her for the right reasons, whether they even liked her at all. So meeting Santana was making her question several things, and it almost felt like she had competition now.
"Thanks? I guess. If by dress you mean-"
"Ugh, it's party," Santana interrupts. "You can't wear your best Sunday school dress, darling. They'll kick you out the door. Come on, let's go see Jake. He said he could get the alcohol, he's gotta get my favourite," Santana says, but it's more like an order and Quinn's feeling… intimidated. She nods, allowing Santana to grip her hand and oull her forward through the crowded hallway until they spot the red and white varsity jackets sticking out of the mob of people. "Jake," she smiles slyly, letting go of Quinn's hand and placing it on his shoulder, rubbing up and down.
She's starting to have doubts now. Quinn wanted the popularity and the wild nights just a few hours ago… but standing here, a bunch of jocks surrounding her, all eyeing Santana up and down and thinking about doing God knows what to her is giving her nerves all over.
"This Quinn, by the way. Don't be rude, princess, come say hello," Santana turns her head to face her, and Quinn looks at the boys, all of them looking at her but not with the same glazed over stare they were giving Santana. She's a little girl compared to the Latina, a small child with her books pressed against her, holding onto them tightly in worry. A little girl with a cross on her neck and a dress past her knees – Santana is a woman, with curves and sex appeal and everything Quinn didn't have.
Clearing her throat, Quinn gives them a small wave. "Hi," she offers a friendly smile. Jake and the other boys nod at her, giving her some form of acknowledgement , and it feels really good. It feels good to have that sort of attention from the opposite sex, even if it only lasted for a second. She lets the feeling wash over: the sense of both independence and she's sort of border lining on racy, isn't she? Maybe if she drops the cardigan…
"Quinn's coming on Friday, aren't you, Q?" Santana brings her back to reality, her fingers snapping in front of her face. "She's a bit shy…"
"Um, yeah. I'll be there," Quinn tries to sound enthusiastic but it comes across as forced – though the boys probably don't notice, but Santana seems to, because she's giving her a small glare from the corner of her eyes.
"She's my ride, so she has no choice. Anyway, boys, have fun at practice this afternoon, you might see me at the sidelines one game," she winks, and all the males around her seems to falter, their eyes once again wandering up and down her body and she walks away just like that, clasping Quinn's hand once again and sauntering away.
"How do you do that?" Quinn whispers, staring at Santana with wide eyes. She hates that she sounds like a child at their knees to someone older, but Santana seems to have a whole load of wisdom that's Quinn never heard of. "How do you make them so… weak?"
"Are you kidding?" Santana laughs. "They're boys, it's easy. They fall for anything with a nice pair of legs. Speaking of," her tone suddenly changes, and it goes from friendly to intimidating when they stop at her locker and she puts her books away. "What was up with you zoning out like that? You wanna make boys weak, don't you? You might have been pulling that whole holier than thou thing back then, but it didn't work," Santana says, assessing Quinn's actions from earlier.
"Did you just, like, analyse everything that just happened?" Quinn raises an eyebrow.
"Didn't have to," she shrugs, pushing bits and pieces aside in her locker and grabbing her lip gloss, opening the small tube and applying a small coat to her lips. "It was obvious as hell. Don't you know how to flirt? You better learn by Friday," she smacks her lips together loudly, confidence just radiating from her. People must have already been intimidated by this girl and she's hardly left a mark at McKinley. She's fresh here but she's got people wrapped her little finger…
Quinn's not quite sure she's one of them or not.
Santana scoffs. That's it. That's the only noise she makes when Quinn comes over that Friday afternoon, both girls agreeing to get ready together, and lays out a few dresses she can't choose between to wear to the party. After a moment Quinn finally speaks up, pushing her nerves aside. "Are they… are they ugly or something?" Quinn whispers, looking down at the three dresses sitting on Santana's bed, then back at the dark haired girl.
"Um," Santana finally speaks. "I wouldn't say ugly. I mean I'd wear them once I hit thirty and had kids and was going to the mall to get groceries," she shakes her head. "You can't go like that. Hang on a sec, I'll find you a dress," she advises, moving to the other side of the room to go through her closet. Quinn sits on the bed, embarrassment washing over her as she realises this just might not be the night she'd been hoping for. "Red will look great on you," Santana says, walking over from the closet, hand stretching out, dress in hand.
Quinn grabs it and goes to the mirror, pressing it against her chest. "Hang on," she realises. "You wore this dress at the ball, didn't you?" She asks, meeting Santana's eyes in the mirror.
"I sure did," she smiles, leaning in close to Quinn's neck. "That hair clip makes you look like elf girl from glee. Take it out," Santana instructs, but before Quinn has a chance to brush her hair, Santana has her fingers on the clip, gently pulling it out and placing it on the dressing table. "Much better," she whispers, running her hands through a few strands of the blonde hair, pulling down the once clipped hair in an effort to make it straight. "You wanna look sexy, don't you? That work wasn't working. You look too… innocent," she continues.
She can't help blushing when Quinn feels the other girl's hot breath on her neck. "Um… thanks, Santana."
"My advice is always free, princess," she murmurs. "What's with the rosy cheeks?"
Immediately spinning around, Quinn shakes he head with a nervous laugh. "It's hot in here. I mean… it was hot outside. In my car. I didn't have the air conditioner on," Quin spurts out.
Santana doesn't look convinced at all, and it seems she's hiding a small smirk when she turns away. "Mhm," she says and walks away from the mirror. "Now put your dress on. Pick some heels from my closet. We look like we're the same size. We're gonna be late."
