Chapter 4: Quinn

It's nothing new being in the principal's office. I just didn't expect to be there on the first day. I heard Sylvester was hired because she had a hard ass personality. Someone must've pegged me as the leader, cause it's me sitting here instead of another Cheerio.

So here I am, pulled out of English so Sylvester can ramble about the school rules. I detect her feeling me out, gauging my reactions, as she threatens, "…and just because I'm new here doesn't mean I don't know all the tricks in the book, I'll be watching you Lucy."

Her eyes focus on me, trying to intimidate. Yeah, right. She stands "I promised the school board that I'd personally be responsible for rooting out the bullying and violence that has plagued this school for years. I won't hesitate to suspend anyone who ignores the rules."

I haven't done anything today besides have a little fun with the diva and this lady is already talking suspension. She must've heard about my suspension from last year. That little incident got me kicked out for three days. It wasn't even my fault… entirely. Santana had mentioned to me that slushy doesn't come out of Louis Vuitton jackets. I was arguing with her at Kurt's locker, while she set up the trap. It would've worked too, but we were caught.

I had nothing to do with it but I got blamed. Santana attempted to tell the truth, but the principal at the time didn't care.

It's obvious Rachel Berry is the reason why I'm here. You think she'd ever be called into the office? No way. She walks around here trying to be perfect, going to class early, getting straight A's, and throwing diva fits.

One of these days…

I look up at Sylvester, "I'm not bullying anyone."

"That's good, but I heard you were harassing a student in the parking lot today."

Oh, so almost getting hit by Rachel Berry is my fault? For the past three years I've managed to avoid the princess bitch. Except for a few slushies…

"Care to share your side of the story?"

Not even worth it. I learned long ago that my side doesn't matter. I learned that best through my parents. "It was nothing, just a misunderstanding."

"Let's not make misunderstandings a habit around here, okay, Lucy?"

"Quinn."

"What?"

"I go by Quinn," I say. There's literally a file on the desk with notes about me, what an ass.

I get up to go. Forgetting completely where I need to be, I pull out my schedule out of my backpack, Chemistry with Mr. Schuester. Great, another hard- ass to deal with.