A/N: I feel bad that I haven't updated in awhile but writing my S3 rewrite made me think of Quinn again and since I have nothing to do this summer, be prepared for more updates!

"I'm bored," whined Quinn on Sheila's bed as she flipped through an ancient Seventeen magazine.

"So what do you want to do?" asked Ronnie as The Mack painted her toenails.

"Something…daring," decided Quinn.

"What the hell does that mean?" asked Sheila as she took a sip from her Coke. Quinn rolled over onto her stomach to face her friends.

"You know, something unexpected. Something that when people look at you, they'll like, realize that they never knew you."

"You're getting way too deep for me," snorted The Mack. "Are you smoking weed with Frankie now?"

They all laughed but it wasn't a cruel joke. Quinn admitted that she had been seeing a lot of Frankie and everyone knew that he was a stoner although he promised not to smoke before he hung out with Quinn. Quinn was delighted that she didn't even have to be passive aggressive about it.

"So what are you thinking?" asked Sheila. "What's 'daring' in Quinn Fabray's book?"

"A new look."

"We already went shopping though," pointed out Ronnie. "I thought you liked the stuff you got."

"No, I mean—" Quinn looked at the magazine in her hands which was flipped open to an article about dyeing your own hair. "How do you guys think I'd look like with a different hair color?"

"Like not you," said Sheila.

Quinn smiled. "Perfect. Let's go to Sally Beauty supply."

"So I thought blondes had more fun," quipped The Mack. "Why do you want to be a brunette?"

"I never said I wanted to be a brunette," corrected Quinn. "Besides, that's too typical. I want something crazy."

"Like red hair?" suggested Sheila as she held up a package of Neutral Auburn #45. Quinn wrinkled her nose as The Mack jumped in.

"Nah, fake redheads are too obvious. How about jet black?"

Quinn was about to reply when Ronnie interrupted. "Hey check this out!" she called, gesturing for the others to come see. She gestured to a series of highlighting wands that were available for testing. Ronnie picked the blonde one and ran it through her hair.

"How does it look?" she asked. "Awesome," chorused the girls. Ronnie went over a picked up the purple wand and started to run it through her tips. "You know, I always thought the crazy colors for you know, crazy people, but this is kind of cute. Plus it's temporary."

Quinn selected the hot pink one and started to run it through her hair. "That one looks pretty good," approved Sheila. Quinn looked at her reflection in the mirror. "I wonder how it would look all pink?" she mused aloud.

The other girls exchanged looks. "You can't be serious," scoffed Ronnie. "You're going to regret it. Just get the highlighting wand and then if it looks like crap, it'll wash out," suggested The Mack but Quinn shook her head.

"No," said Quinn. "This is what I want. Will you guys help me? I've never dyed my hair before."

Sheila shrugged. "Okay, but just to be safe, we should get some peroxide too."

They did it at Sheila's apartment and carefully spread copious amounts of Vaseline around Quinn's hairline and the nape of her neck so the dye wouldn't stain her skin. Quinn was wrapped in a towel, waiting the color to set before she washed it.

"You're lucky you're already blonde," said The Mack as she read the instructions on the box. "Otherwise you're supposed to like, strip your hair white so it'll take easier."

"I think you can dye your hair with Kool Aid but I heard it doesn't look as good," said Ronnie as she walked in, munching on potato chips.

"When you go to bed, sleep in your crappiest sheets because the dye can stain your pillows and whatever," warned Sheila. Quinn resisted the urge to scratch her head.

"You know a lot about this stuff."

"My cousin dyed her hair red. And when she went to bed, the dye stained everything. They had to throw her sheets out because they couldn't get it out. My aunt was pissed. It was like nice stuff too. Egyptian cotton or some shit."

"Okay, wash your hair now," said The Mack. Gratefully, Quinn lowered her head into the bathtub and rinsed her hair with cold water. "Oh this feels so good," she said as the soothing cold water ran through her hair.

"That's what she said," quipped Ronnie and they all cracked up.

"Don't make me laugh!" cried Quinn. "Water just went up my nose."

Still giggling, she turned off the tap and dried her hair with the ratty old towel Sheila gave her. She turned to her friends and said, "Well, what do you think?"

Sheila nodded. "Looks good."

"Take a picture now because it'll never look this good again," advised Ronnie.

"What's your mom going to say?" asked The Mack.

Quinn shrugged.

"What on earth did you do to your hair?" cried Judy when she saw Quinn walk in through the door.

"Don't worry Mom," said Quinn. "It's semi-permanent. It'll go back to normal in like a month."

Quinn was bluffing; she didn't really remember what the box said but she hoped some of what she said was true. Pink hair was cool but she didn't want to have it when she was like, 30.

"Quinn, I don't understand what's gotten into you. You stop hanging out with your old friends—"

"Those people were never my friends, Mom, okay?" snapped Quinn. "One of those girls stole my boyfriend."

"But what about Santana and Brittany? You've been friends with them for so long—"

"Well, maybe I'm tired of hanging out with them. I'm tired of the same old things. I want to be different!"

Judy shook her head. "If you want to try a new look, Quinn that's fine. But you should have told me. We could have gone to beauty parlor and they would have done a nice job."

"Whatever. I like it," announced Quinn. Judy frowned at her.

"Did your new friend Sheila put you up to this? Honey, you shouldn't listen to that girl. Have you seen her hair? She's not a good influence—"

"God, Mom it's not like that! I did it because I wanted to. You don't get it!"

"Don't take that tone with me, young lady! You are grounded this weekend."

"For what?"

"For dyeing your hair pink without asking! I don't know what you think you're doing Quinn but you look starting to look like a cheap hussy. What's next, a tattoo? A piercing? Do you know how girls who dress like that look like? Do you want to look like that?"

Quinn just scoffed at her mother, tempted to shout out, "Maybe!" but she thought the better of it and just went to her room. She was already going to miss a party that weekend and she didn't want to miss another.

Carefully, Quinn lay down a ratty bath towel on her pillow before she collapsed on her bed and went to sleep. She put her iPod ear buds into her ears and put her songs on shuffle. Joan Jett's Bad Reputation started playing.

I don't give a damn about my bad reputation!

You're living in the past, it's a new generation!

I'm gonna do what I wamma do

And that's what I'm gonna do

I don't give a damn about by bad reputation!

A tattoo? She had never thought about it before.