"Alright boys and girls," Mr. Schue says, as he walks into the choir room, "We have only one more week until Regionals. We have to get ready and prepare. So, I want everyone to use this time to practice. I manage to get a hold of the auditorium for an hour. That's how long Sue has her cheerios doing extreme exercising. So let's head down there now."

Everyone gets up and walks out to the hallway. I rush out of my seat and run towards Santana. I yell out her name, she pretends she doesn't hear until I grab her shoulder and turn her around, jerking her body to where she was facing me. Santana pushes me before I start to open my mouth. I see Britney pull Santana back a few paces away from me. The other glee members turn and look at us.

"What is your problem, Fabray?" Santana yells at me. Mr. Schue comes running at us.

"What is going on here?" He asks, stepping in between me and Santana.

"Ask her," Santana says pointing at me, "She is the one who tried to push me."

"I didn't try to push you, I just wanted to talk." I say.

"No, you grab my arm and yanked me around." Santana says.

"Look, I have had enough of this," Mr. Schue says, "Britney, Mike, Puck, and Finn; I want you all to sit re-arrange yourselves between Quinn and Santana." He looks at me and Santana, "You two ladies, this is your last warning. If I see you fighting or arguing again, anytime this week before Regionals. Then I am afraid, I will have to kick you both out of glee."

"But Mr. Schue," Britney starts, "If you kick both Quinn and Santana out, we won't have enough people to compete, will we?"

"Don't worry Britney," Mr. Schue says, "We will have enough people to compete, trust me."

I look over at Santana, who just keeps looking at Mr. Schue.

"Now, do you ladies understand me?" He says, Santana and I both nod our heads. Everyone else start to walk away. I stand there once I knew they were all out of ear shot.

"Listen Santana," I start.

"No you listen Fabray," She says, "I don't want to get kicked out of glee club because of you. So I just want you to stay out of my way. Don't bother me, don't talk to me, don't even look at me." Santana walks off. I stand there feeling stupid and sad. Not the best idea, you had Quinn, I think to myself. I felt that if I can't talk to Santana face to face, then I will just have to record everything I want to say to her and give it to her that way.

I went straight to the auditorium and Mr. Schue directed me to my new spot in the routine. He told us all the new changes he made to keep Santana and me apart. Everyone keeps giving me dirty, unhappy looks.

"Mr. Schue," Sam says, "There isn't a way for all of us to remember these changes by next week."

"I know Sam, but I'm trying to keep the changes to a minimal." The entire time during practice people kept looking at me like I was a rabid dog that just bit a baby and killed it. I kept my distance away from everyone else as much as possible. Practice seemed to last hours before Sue and her cheerios bust through the doors and took over the entire auditorium. Mr. Schue and Sue began arguing about giving them a few extra minutes while everyone were getting off the stage to leave, assuming that Coach Sue will win this argument.

I catch a glimpse of Santana and I walk over to her, taking each step with caution so I will not do anything stupid this time. I get stop by Puck and Blaine. I look at them.

"Excuse me," I say to them.

"No," Puck says, "I'm not going to let you go over to Santana and pick a fight with her."

"I'm not going to pick a fight with Santana."

"Listen Quinn," Blaine starts to say, "We all want both you and Santana to go to Regionals with us. So we are going to do everything we can to prevent you two from fighting."

"Yes, if you want to beat up Santana. Then do it at home, not at school." Puck says to me.

"I'm not going to beat up Santana." I say to Puck, giving him an unimpressed look.

"Well, that's true. It's most likely that she will beat you up. But I didn't want to discourage you. Glad you came to your senses on your own."

I roll my eyes, then attempt to make my way around Puck and Blaine. I head over, in the opposite direction of Santana, to the stairs. Blaine follows me.

"You don't have to follow me Blaine," I say to him. "I'm not going to talk to Santana, alright."

"Quinn," Blaine calls out to me. He moves closer to me until there were not any space left between us. "Is everything ok? With you?" He asks.

"Yes," I shrug.

"No trouble at home, with your grades, nothing?" He says as he kept looking at me. It was like he was trying to read my mind to see what I was thinking, to understand me.

"No Blaine, nothing is happening with me at all. I'm fine. My parents are fine. Everything is fine." I could feel tears welling up in my eyes as I walk off, faster than I wanted. Which must have alerted Blaine that something was, indeed, wrong with me. That something was troubling me.

I couldn't help but think of my family when Blaine asked if there was trouble at home. My family, ultra-conservative, ultra-christian, conformist family is how you would describe my family. I remember back to the other night when we went to church and the sermon that night was homosexuality: how it hurts everyone not just God.

My parents were driving home that night talking about how homosexuality wasn't just a sin but disrespectful and wrong.

"How could people think that it's alright." My dad said, "I mean before you know it, people would want to marry their dogs and pets."

"I know honey," my mom said, "And the worst part is that the gays try to make it seem like it's just a christian problem. Like we are the only ones who hate them."

HATE them. I thought to myself.

"When in fact," my mom said, "It's not just a christian problem. It's a society problem. I mean what if pedophiles said that they can't help how they feel towards children. Would that make it make it alright for them to date them?"

I tune them out as I try to listen to the song on the radio. Forcing my mind to focus on anything other than my parents rambling.

I don't pay any attention to what's going on around until I notice that I was out of it and trip bumping right into Britney with both of us falling to the floor.

I look into Britney's eyes as I notice I was lying on top of her. I get up off of her until I feel someone pushing me back down to the ground.

"What do you think, you're doing?" Santana says, standing over me while I lay on the floor. I bring myself up right when I see Mr. Schue running over to us.

"Mr. Schue," I begin to say.

"I don't want to hear it," He says, "I warned you both about what would happen and not even an hour later you two are fighting again."

"But she pushed Britney and knock her to the floor," says Santana.

"It's True, she did." I hear Tina say.

"I saw it as well," says Sugar.

"It doesn't matter, the fact is I warned you both and you ignored me. I'm sorry but I don't think you two would be going to Regionals with us this year."

"But Mr. Schue," Britney says, "If you kick them both off we won't have enough people to compete."

"Don't worry Britney," Mr. Schue says, "We will have enough." Britney starts to open her mouth again but Mr. Schue stops her. "I know what you are doing Britney. You want Santana to go and don't think it's fair for me to kick both Quinn and Santana off. But I warned them and Santana was standing over Quinn. So I have no choice." He says, frowning. "I'm sorry girls." Mr. Schue walks away as does the rest of the glee club. I look around and see the cheerios standing, staring at me. I take off to the hallway. I see Santana standing there, looking me into my eyes.

"Santana," I say.

"No, don't say anything Quinn." Santana begins stepping closer to me. "Listen, I'm about sick and tired of you and your holier than thou ways. I'm tired of you trying to act like you are Miss Perfect Morals when you are just as bad as everyone else. I don't care what you think about me and Britney or our relationship but you need to grow up and get over yourself."

"Santana," I start, "I'm sorry."

"No, I should be the one saying sorry. Sorry for telling you that I was gay, sorry for telling you that I had feelings for Britney, sorry for thinking you were my best friend and that you would understand. Sorry for thinking you wouldn't judge me. I'm sorry, Quinn. I'm so very, very sorry."

"Santana, I…I'm"

"And thanks for ruining the last thing I had in my life where I felt safe and happy. You know what, Quinn, I'm done. I.." I see tears welling up in her eyes, before she could say anything else. She walks away.

"Bye, Fabray." The last thing she says over her shoulder. I turn and watch her. I feel my eyes getting hot as I begin to cry too.

Why couldn't I just tell Santana how I felt about her.? Why did I have to take out my anger on her, on Britney? Why did I have to be jealous? Why? Why did I have to have these feelings? Why did I have to like girls? Why did I have to like, love Santana?