A/N: This is working off of the idea that classes begin on August 29th. Btw, past tense/present tense, whatevs. I always seem to have trouble with it. Blame it on the fact that English isn't my only language. I love commas as well (obviously). This friendship/relationship that Quinn has going on with Santana, I actually have, so I hope it seems believable (because it actually has happened, haha).
A/N 2: this is short, I know, but it's because big things are coming! I hope you all enjoy it. I certainly enjoyed writing it. Please read and review!
Dedication: Oh, and because I can't dedicate this to my 100th follower (I tried to figure it out but there's no real way to tell who it is) this is for Bluemaria34 who wrote my 100th review! Thank you and enjoy!
I Wanna Start A Fight
(Na Na Na Na Na Na Na)
Quinn sighed and hit replay on her computer. She ignored the groan of protest that came from across the room and turned the volume up, her eyes trained on the television episode that was playing through her computer screen. She was carefully settled on her bed and Sadie was lying carelessly on hers and they were doing what Sadie called "bonding". Really, Quinn just calls it being bored.
It's Friday and for once Quinn and Sadie both don't have anything to do. So they're both confined to their dorm room until something better came along. Sadie had taken to groaning every few moments as if that would solve all of her problems. Quinn had decided to use her free time to watch something on her computer.
Quinn pretended not to mouth the words as the episode continued, but gave in when she heard the song that gave her chills every time. Quinn pretends like she isn't close to tears, her voice raising an octave as it cracked.
You're a true friend
You're here till the end
You pull me aside
When something ain't right
Talk with me now and into the night
'Til it's alright again
You're a true friend
She's halfway through the second verse when Sadie's hand appears out of nowhere and slams her computer shut. Quinn blinked away tears and does her best to look intimidating. It's a little hard considering her current position.
Sadie seems to agree because she doesn't budge. Instead she narrows her eyes and places her hands on her hips, her stance completely ready for a battle. "I swear to God, if you watch that Hannah Montana episode one more time I'm going to kill you." Sadie clenches and unclenches her hand as if it proves her point.
Quinn tries not to laugh because Sadie obviously doesn't know the real meaning of intimidation. Intimidation is a cheerleading coach in Lima that once held a mandatory cheerleading practice in Canada (while providing transportation, of course, but still). Intimidation is a Cheerio Co-Captain that set Noah Puckerman's football uniform on fire in front of the whole school and still managed to convince Principal Figgin's that she was home sick that day.
Intimidation isn't (nor does Quinn think it ever could be) Sadie's thing, so Quinn doesn't buy into it. Instead she raises her eyebrows and waits for Sadie to continue. It works and Sadie huffs in response. "Quinn, you've watched that episode sixty-two times in the past two weeks." Sadie held up her hand before Quinn could object. "Before you pick a fight, I know because I counted."
"It's a motivational episode." Quinn defends, trying not to sound desperate even though it's clear that she is.
"It's Hannah Montana." Sadie emphasizes, as if her stating the name out loud changed everything. Sadie's features soften after a beat (like they often have since Quinn's breakdown in the bathroom) and she drops her arms. "Why don't you just call her? It's been two weeks, Quinn. Halloween is tomorrow and I don't think I could welcome such a monumentally great holiday with this hanging over our head."
"Hanging over our head?" Quinn repeated, confused. "Halloween is a monumentally great holiday?"
Sadie nods as if it's obvious. "Halloween builds bridges and creates families."
Quinn laughed. Her shoulders shaking with each laugh she projected. She stretched out her legs on her bed and ignored how hew yoga pants slid up. She was wearing an oversized sweatshirt because it was exceptionally cold these days. Quinn continued to laugh while Sadie looked stricken.
"This is no laughing matter, Quinn! Halloween is a very important and serious day. Do you really want to go into it depressed?"
Quinn grabbed her pillow and threw it at Sadie, grimacing when the girl ducked. For a girl who was far too co-dependent on alcohol, Sadie had awfully quick reflexes. "I am not depressed!"
Sadie stood tall, her hands up in surrender and her Yale t-shirt rising up. "All I'm saying, Quinn, is that you obviously want to talk to her. So call her. You guys are friends, aren't you?"
Quinn didn't want to answer because she honestly didn't know. All she had these days was the mess that used to be her life, a mess that she created. She can't admit something like that out loud because even though she likes Sadie, she honestly doesn't really trust her. The last person she trusted was Santana and that relationship was basically ruining her. Quinn wasn't ready to go down that route again. Not now.
Instead of opening herself up, Quinn felt herself resort to her old tendencies. She resorted to the girl she used to be when she was trying to hide Lucy. She resorted to the girl who was all brass and harsh edges.
"Why the fuck do you care?" Quinn snapped before she could regret it. "Why don't you get a life of your own instead of constantly prying into mine?"
Sadie's demeanor changed and if Quinn had ever been a good judge of anything she would have acknowledged that she had made a mistake. Sadie turned around and shoved her hand in her drawer, pulling out a portable margarita—which, really? Where was she getting those things from?—and pointing it towards Quinn. "You know what, Quinn? Fuck you. Two months we've been living here, huh? Can you even name one fact about me?"
Quinn froze in fear, her hands curling into her bedspread. Sadie looked put out and just nodded her head as if she expected it. "Yeah," Sadie said sadly. "That's what I thought."
Without another word Sadie headed towards their door and pulled it open, her body hesitating for only a brief moment before pushing through the doorway and exiting the room completely. Quinn looked on in disbelief because Sadie was wearing a t-shirt, short shorts and flip flops. Obviously she wasn't dressed to impress, she couldn't get that far.
Quinn licked her lips. Sadie must have been pretty pissed off to leave like that. In the two months that Quinn had lived with her, Sadie had never left in the middle of an argument. And that's saying something because they had once had the debate of Justin Bieber vs. Taylor Swift.
Quinn plopped backwards on her bed and closed her eyes. She was certainly screwing up everything these days.
Two weeks earlier
"I don't know how to do this anymore."
"Do what?"
"Pretend like I'm okay." Quinn sobbed, the tears falling faster now. She leaned against the wall, every part of her defeated as she sank to the floor. She couldn't do this, not anymore. She could barely breathe without Santana, how was she going to survive without her?
She felt like such a sad sack of shit for needing someone like this, for falling so low. She felt so much unlike a Fabray in this moment, and it made her cry harder.
"Oh, sweetie."
"I think I'm broken." Quinn cried.
Quinn heard Rachel take a sharp intake of breath before she answered. Quinn wasn't sure, but it sounded like Rachel was crying. "Quinn, you're not broken."
"Prove it."
"Sweetie," Rachel said quietly. "It's not something you prove, it's something you feel."
Quinn closed her eyes in frustration, her mind fighting everything and anything. "I feel broken."
"Where?"
"Everywhere," Quinn answered honestly.
"No, where?" Rachel prodded.
Quinn took a lungful of air, as if the truth required more breath. "My heart." Quinn placed a hand over her heart. "My head. My body."
"Quinn…" Rachel trailed off, her voice sad and the conversation oddly defining. "Does this have something to do with Santana?"
Quinn nodded her head 'yes' even though Rachel couldn't see her. She brought her knees up to her chest and laid her chin on them. "Yes."
Rachel inhaled sharply. "I had an idea but I didn't want to assume…Quinn?"
"Yes?" Quinn answered, the tears slowing down now.
"Tell me something, okay? Anything at all. Just… don't hang up."
"Do you remember when you said that being a part of something special makes you special?" Quinn asks, remembering a day years ago when Rachel had spent a week repeating that phrase over and over again to the glee kids.
Rachel laughed and Quinn didn't understand why, because that statement had fueled her for four years. Rachel chuckled, her breaths light. "Yes."
"I just want to be special." Quinn admits. Ignoring the sharp stab in her heart at the realization that she isn't special and she probably won't ever be. "I just want to matter to someone. I just want to feel important and grand and needed. I…want to stop feeling lonely."
"Oh Quinn," Rachel said. It must have been the biggest and scariest truth that Quinn has ever shared with her. "Being lonely isn't the same thing as being alone."
"Maybe," Quinn agrees. The alcohol was starting to make her head pound. "I'm not sure. I'm not really sure of anything anymore."
"That can't be true!" Rachel tries to object and it's clear in her words that she's the sober one in this conversation. Rachel's trying to act rationally but rationality doesn't bode well with intoxication. "You must be sure of something."
"I used to be sure of Santana." Quinn answers. "But I'm not sure of her anymore. She'll leave me just like everybody else. She'll realize the same thing that my parents did, that Charlotte did, that everyone who's ever really known me did. She'll realize that I'm not worth it."
It's hard to say out loud because it's her biggest fear. She's co-dependent on somebody in the only way she ever could be, in the worst way. It's ruining her, piece by piece because now she has expectations and there's absolutely no way that Santana could meet them. Not now. Not when they're this young.
"Quinn," Rachel tried gently. "Can I tell you something?"
"Sure."
Rachel sighed. "The surest thing in life is that the sun will rise every morning and the sun will set every night. Regardless of the things you want Quinn, change will happen because life goes on.Whether it goes on with or without you is entirely up to you."
Quinn is about to answer when she hears commotion thru the phone.
"No, I will not give you the phone!" Quinn hears Rachel exclaim followed by some shuffling.
"Oh, Jesus, you little smurf. Get your grubby little hands off of me." Quinn hears Santana say. Quinn panics as she hears a scuffle. Not really certain what to do or what's the best decision. So she stays on the line because really, Quinn's always been a masochist at heart.
She hears Rachel cry out in pain before a heavier breathing takes over the phone. "Hello?" Santana says winded. "Quinn?"
Quinn weighs her options twice-over before deciding to screw them all by just saying, "yeah."
"I miss you. Can we please talk about this?"
Quinn rubbed her eyes in irritation. "No, Santana. We can't."
"Don't you miss me?"
"Of course I do." Quinn answered honestly. She might as well go the full hundred. "Santana…there's something wrong with our relationship."
"Did Berry tell you that?" Santana demanded. "Because let me tell you something, that girl didn't have a friend until she was eighteen. Obviously her viewpoint is pretty jaded."
"Santana," Quinn warns, not willing to sidetrack this conversation. It makes sense that when Quinn is feeling most vulnerable is when she decides to be the most honest. Something wasn't right between her and Santana and that's why things were failing. They were friends, sure, but there was also something else. They were treading lines, crossing boundaries, and sneaking past enemy lines. It wasn't normal and it wasn't healthy and if Quinn really wanted a true shot at happiness, she'd have to change that. "Our friendship started off because we needed each other."
"Nothing has changed." Santana answered immediately.
Quinn smiled fondly, sadly, and everything else in between. "That's the problem."
"What are you saying?"
Quinn shook her head, not really certain. "I don't know...Santana?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you remember that first day we met?"
Santana sighed, as if acting nostalgic made her exhausted. "When you looked whack as hell? Of course, I remember."
Quinn rolled her eyes. Of course Santana would try and sidetrack this moment with insults and pointed opinions. It's as if Santana could sense where this conversation was going too. "Why did you come up to me that day?"
"Quinn," Santana warned. "You don't want me to answer that."
Quinn released a breathe. "No, I do."
"I thought..." Santana trailed off, her voice barely a whisper. "I thought that befriending you would be awfully convenient for me."
Quinn inhaled sharply. She had had her suspicions for awhile. Ever since this thing with Santana had taken on a life of it's own Quinn had grown more and more curious about that day. It's hard not to. It's hard to see your life changing and winding down a path you had never acknowledged before and not think about the day that started it all. It was hard not to pay attention to the thing that was possibly leading towards her 'Great Perhaps'.
Still. Even though Quinn had had her ideas about Santana's reasons for approaching her that day, it didn't make Santana's admittance hurt any less. The truth has the benefit of honesty, but that doesn't make everything sting any less.
"That sounds like you." Quinn said, not knowing what else to say. Nothing else made sense.
Santana's voice quivered. "Do you regret befriending me?"
"Sometimes."
"Do you wish that you weren't my friend anymore?" Santana questioned, her voice cracking on her last word. She cleared her throat and Quinn could almost picture Santana acting nonchalant.
"No." Quinn said because it was true. Even if she did occasionally regret befriending Santana (this only happened whenever Quinn was mad at herself for letting herself get pulled so far into everything) that didn't mean that she regretted Santana and what she gave Quinn. She hesitated before feeling relief flood through her veins. Perhaps this was the moment in life that everyone talked about. The moment where you made a decision that you knew would change your life from that moment on. There's no going back from a moment like this. Maybe this is what Rachel was trying to prevent, Quinn thinks. Maybe Rachel was trying to help Quinn work on herself first, because how could she work on anything else when she couldn't even work on herself?
"No." Quinn repeats. Her voice is firm and strong, and it's funny that her Fabray 'cool-under-pressure' genes have picked this moment to show up. Perhaps this moment mattered more than Quinn would ever know. Perhaps she was just really drunk. "I wish that I could keep you to myself for forever and a half."
