Chapter 4

Quinn's POV

It's crazy how one person's comments can change how you feel about yourself. It can infect your brain like a virus and alter everything you thought you were so sure of. It can lower your self-esteem and break you down until you feel like nothing. It can replay in your mind thousands of times every day, while you start to convince yourself that it may be true.

"Nice try Quinn," Megan smirked as she walked by my room. "What?" I spat back. "Nice try looking good in that dress. It doesn't work for you. Sorry," she said, almost matter-of-factly, as she tossed her hair back and sauntered away. My heart sank as I stared at myself in the mirror. Mere seconds ago, I thought I looked perfect for Brittany's party. My hair was the perfect amount of wavy, and the dark blue dress I was wearing seemed to hug my curves in all the right ways. I had put on a tiny bit of lipstick to make my lips pop and a hint of eyeliner to bring out the green in my eyes. A few seconds ago I thought I looked perfect, and now all I saw in the mirror was something hideous.

My hair is too frizzy and this lipstick makes me look like my mom. Is that a zit I see on my forehead? I think I put too much eyeliner on. This dress makes me look like a whale. The thoughts raced through my mind as my mom popped her head in my room and asked why I didn't eat dinner. "I'm just not hungry mom," I said as she sighed and closed the door. I didn't eat much today, only a granola bar and a few crackers. But I never really eat much because I just feel so…fat. I grabbed the skin under my arm and just felt disgusted with myself. Tears formed in my eyes as my phone buzzed and I noticed that I had a text from Santana.

Get your fat ass out here, time to partyyyyy! ;)

Santana and I always had that type of friendship where we jokingly make fun of each other, but tonight it just further affirmed what I was already thinking. I sulkily walked out to her car and hopped into the passenger seat. "Why are you frowning? There's no time for frowning on a night like tonight? What's wrong hun?" she said. "Nothing, I'm fine…I just…" I tried to think of a suitable lie to cover up my hurt. "I just think I lost my favorite beanie. The one I got in New York last year," I said. "Oh. That sucks." The concern that Santana expresses for people is sometimes so fleeting.

We pulled into Brittany's driveway and the bass from a David Guetta song was radiating off her walls. Brittany's house was further back off the main road towards the woods, so she was able to have outrageously loud parties without getting noise complaints. We walked down her long driveway and toward the front door. From behind me, I could hear a whistle, and when I turned around, it was a drunk Puck, eyeing me like I was a piece of juicy steak. He grabbed my hand and pulled me close to him before I could step into the house, and his friends chuckled as he licked his lips and whispered in my ear, "You look sexy, and I can't wait to see you out of that dress." He was such a pig, but I couldn't let him, or anyone else know that. I looked to my right and Santana was smirking at me as she waited for me to join her. The look in her eyes said, lucky you, about to get laid tonight. I faked a smile at Puck and gently removed his hands off of me even though I wanted nothing more than to slap him. But I guess I put myself in this position. He was using me for the same reason I used him. For a hookup. But our intentions beneath that reason were completely different.

I walked into the room and Brittany stumbled over to me with two drinks in her hand. She was clearly wasted, her eyes were bloodshot and glazed over. "Quinn!" she yelled, draping her arms over me as the drinks in her hand spilled behind me. "So glad you're here! Here's some Jungle Juice. Kitty made it, so drink with caution. Actually, forget that, drink up!" She said shoving the drink in my face and tilting the lid to my mouth. I grabbed the cup before Kitty's concoction hit my lips. "Thanks Brittany," I said absentmindedly as I scanned the room. I was hoping to see Rachel but all I saw were drunk bodies falling all over each other.

I continued to gaze around the room until I noticed that Kitty had kind of snuck up on me. "What you don't like my drink," she asked with stern face. "No, no, it's great Kitty," I said taking a sip. It tasted absolutely awful, like rubbing alcohol mixed with fruit punch, and I hoped that Kitty would never become a bartender. I spent the next few seconds trying to control the muscles in my face so that they didn't reveal my lie. "If you like it as much as you say you do, you should drink more," she said, with an "I call bullshit, and you needed to be drunk like five minutes ago" type of face. I sighed and chugged the rest of my drink, wondering how quickly it would hit me since there was probably eight different kinds of alcohol in it and I had barely eaten today. "We're playing Never Have I Ever in the kitchen, c'mon," she said, grabbing my hair and walking me over to the island in the kitchen.

I hated this game because it was a game where all I did was tell lies. "Never have I ever had sex, " Sugar said, as the majority of us put one of our fingers down, indicating that we had. I thought back to that night with Puck and almost vomited the little liquor I had in me. "Never have I ever kissed a girl!" our friend, Lauren, yelled from across the island. Kitty smirked at me as we, along with Santana and Brittany, put our fingers down. Kitty shrugged, "Hey what happens at parties, stays at parties, right?" The girls laughed and nodded in agreement, while my face remained neutral. Rachel still wasn't here and I was starting to lose faith that she would come. But then, everything hit at once. My vision started the blur as Kitty began to slur, "Never have I ever had a crush on a girl." And right on cue, the front door opened and Rachel hesitantly walked in. She was wearing the same tight, black dress she wore last week, and I started to assume that was the only party dress she owned. But it didn't matter, it still had the same effect on me tonight as it did last Saturday. I absentmindedly put one of my fingers down and Santana giggled, "Wow Quinn, I always knew you liked me." "What?" I stammered as I noticed one of my fingers was down. "Oh no, sorry, I didn't hear what you said," I lied, as I continued to stare at Rachel.

Each of the girls' eyes slowly turned to who I was staring at. "Who the hell invited her?" Santana said as she grabbed a drink and walked over to Rachel. "Rachel, what the fuck are you doing here, nobody invited you so leave." "I-I…Quinn…" she said weakly, looking over at me with hopeful eyes. I started walking over, unsure of what I was going to do, but before I could reach her, Santana threw the drink all over her black dress. Rachel stood there, with a shocked look on her face, and then turned quickly and ran out of the house as Kitty started cracking up behind us. "Good riddance," Santana said as she walked back to the island and resumed Never Have I Ever. "Quinn, get over here!" She yelled to me. "I have to pee," I said quickly and started walking toward the front door. "Quinn, the bathroom is THAT way!" Brittany yelled behind me as I ran out to find Rachel.

I saw her running down the street and I made my way toward her. "Rach—" I said before I felt my arm being grabbed. "Ready to show me what you got, Fabray?" Quin smirked. I jerked my hand away from him and started running after Rachel.

Rachel's POV

My eyes stung, as I tried to blink out the little bit of alcohol that splashed up into my face from Santana's drink. How could she be so cruel? And why did I even decide to come to this party, thinking that Quinn wanted to see me. I started sobbing, feeling regretful and embarrassed about what just happened, when I felt a hand softly grab my wrist. She turned me around and I looked right into her glossy, green eyes. "Rachel…" she whispered, pulling me behind one of the parked cars that would keep us hidden from anyone walking down the road. "Rachel, I'm so sorry," she slurred and her hand fumbled with my dress, trying to wipe off the alcohol that had already sunk into the fabric. "Quinn, I shouldn't have come here…" I trailed off as her lips pressed against mine. I was completely sober, but this kiss gave me the same feelings that I had last Saturday. The butterflies came rushing in, as she deepened the kiss and held both sides of my face. I felt my body grow weak as she moved her hands to the small of my back and pulled me closer. It was the taste of alcohol on her tongue that brought me back to reality, as I pushed her off and yelled, "Quinn, you don't even know what you're doing right now!" "I want you, Rachel," she whispered. "No you don't. You're drunk and you want…you want…a plaything! You can't just go around making out with someone at parties and then treating them like crap when you're around your friends!"

We both knew that I struck a nerve. "Rachel, you don't understand," she said weakly, as tears formed in her eyes. "I want you," she repeated, but more timidly this time. "Quinn, you're drunk," I replied. "I have to be, Rachel." "Why?" "Because, I can't go around kissing girls sober. That's not who I am. That's not who I want to be." I suddenly felt bad for her. She was clearly battling something bigger than this drunken situation. "Quinn, I came to this party hoping to talk to you about last Saturday. We can't talk about this now, this needs to happen when you're sober," I paused. "I'll be home all day tomorrow. I live at 21 Eastbrook Road…come over. We can talk then." She nodded her head and murmured "okay" before slowly started walking. I was nervous to hear what she had to say, but I think I was more nervous at the fact that this is the first person that I have ever invited over to my house. The hell-hole. I just hoped my parents would find a way to get along for the day.