I didn't join Brittany and everyone at our lunch table. Instead, I decided to sit on the bleachers. Surprisingly, no one is practicing, so it's pretty much just me out here. And the few people who're jogging, but they haven't noticed my presence. It's nice.

"You didn't come to History," familiar voice said. Santana. I shrugged.

"I lost track of time," I mumbled.

"What're you doing out here?" She asked as she sat next to me.

"Thinking."

"About?"

"Everything," I sighed.

"I'm I included in that?" She asked. I chuckled.

"If you must know, yes. I'm thinking about you too."

"Good things, right?"

"Somewhat," I shrugged. She frowned.

"What did I do?" She asked innocently. I chuckled dryly. "I guess that wasn't the best question."

"No," I giggled, "it wasn't." Then, we were quiet. Both of us just sitting, and staring out at the field. It occurred to me, that even that grassy field was an example how how we were so different. I've been to every single football game, and cheered in a uniform with the school's colors on it. The same one that I'm wearing now. Santana, on the other hand, hasn't been to a single game.

"This is nice," she said after a while.

"Santana, can I ask you something?" I asked.

"Sure."

"If things were different, do you think we would work?" I asked. I saw her look at me from the corner of my eye, but I continued to face forward.

"I think things could work just the way things are," she said. I scoffed.

"Sure."

"I do."

I rolled my eyes and turned to face her. "You're telling me, that you'd come out as a lesbian, and kiss me in front of the whole school?" I asked. She looked down slowly, so I nodded. "That's exactly what I thought."

"Like you'd do that," she spat.

"I don't have much to lose."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Those guys aren't my friends. They probably don't care to find out where I am right now. Sam probably just wants a future trophy wife. My mother won't be proud of me, ever."

"That's not-"

"Santana, I could get into Yale, and she'd throw a fit because it isn't Harvard. I'm pretty much through with trying to satisfy her. What's she going to do, kick me out?"

She pursed her lips. "What about the slushies?"

"I doubt anyone would try. Sue would kill them for getting the syrup on my uniform."

"Any if you lost that too?"

"I'm her best cheerleader-"

"And this is Ohio. Quinn, you have a lot to lose. Okay? And I'm sorry, but I'm not going to bring you down with me just because you're having a particularly bad day."

I clenched my teeth. "It isn't up to you, Santana. I just want out of this stupid music box."

"Music bo-?"

"Yes. Over and over, the past few years, it's been the same thing. I'm sick of it."

"Q, you're a smart girl. But sometimes, it's better to keep your secrets, and sing the same tune that everyone else is."

"No." I said, and closed my eye. "I'm done." She was about to say something, but the school bell rung. I didn't move.

"Are you going to your next class?"

"Yes."

"Can I walk you?"

"Why, to make sure I go?" I asked sarcastically.

"Alright, grouch. Let's get to class."

Part of me wants to be alone. Just, for one day, I don't want the stares, the people parting in the halls to let me through. I just want to be by myself. Another part of me wants Santana to kiss me. Another part of me is screaming, 'Make up your mind, Lucy! You either want to be with her, or you don't!'

I have it good here, I know. I shouldn't be complaining. I mean, look at my problems. Sam, the quarterback of our champion football team wants to take me to the school dance which I am putting together. With a side sapphic secret love story- no, not a love story. Love isn't supposed to hurt you. I look to my side at Santana and glare at her. She messed everything up.

She makes me think it'll be alright to lose everything and still have her. That's crazy. And stupid. Oh god. She looked at me and gave a small, hardly noticeable smile. I'm in love with Santana Lopez. I stopped walking, so did she. She wasn't supposed to do that. She was supposed to keep going, just like the J's and C's had.

"You okay?" She whispered. I nodded. "Liar," she squinted at me. These halls don't know me. The people here don't know me. Out of everyone on this planet, Santana just has to be the one person who knows me. "You're not going to hurl, are you?" I shook my head. "Are you not talking to me again? Because that's getting old real quick."

"No," I said, but it was hardly audible.

"Okay," she eyed me odly. "Do you need to go to the nurse?"

"I'm fine," but my voice shook. "I just- I can't be around you right now." I hurried past her. She didn't call my name. I listened. I didn't turn back to look at her, but I would have gone all the way back if she'd asked.

Study hall is okay. If you have homework, you get it done there. If you dont, you have an hour or so to relax. But when you're anxious and bored and your skin feels like it's on fire, relaxing gets a little complicated. My cheer skirt is itchy, and someone in this room won't stop tapping their feet. I found myself shoving all of my books into my bag, and staring at the clock. There's still forty minutes left in class.

I scoffed silently, and pulled my phone out.

(To) Marie

What class are you in rn?

I waited a few seconds for a reply, then regretted sending the message at all. What was I planning to do?

(From) Marie

Oceanography. Whats up

I took my bottom lip between my teeth. I really don't want to be around Santana. But at the same time, she's the only person I want to be around. What can I say, I'm indecisive. It's a gift.

(To) Marie

Can you get me out of SH?

Several minutes went by, so I rolled my eyes and grumpily put away my phone, and dropped my bag down on the floor. I looked at the clock. Thirty-five minutes left. I raised my hand, "Could I go to the bathroom?"

"Someones out," my teacher responded. I groaned silently, and crossed my arms over the desk. I layed my head down, and willed myself to fall asleep.

"Excuse me, Mr. Benitez?" Someone said. I looked up and saw a long legged gawky boy walking to Mr. Benitez's desk. He handed him a small yellow paper.

"Let's see, who's this?" Mr. B put on his reading glasses. "Quinn Fabray. Take your things, they want you in the nursing office," he said. I eyed him oddly, but grabbed my bag and stood. The boy and I walked out together.

"Hi, I'm-" The boy started when we were out of the class.

"Not interested," I mumbled.

"Well that was rude," someone said. I recognized the voice immediately. "Thank you James," she nodded to the boy. "You're dismissed."

I rolled my eyes and continued to walk to the nurse's office.

"Um, where do you think you're going?" She asked me.

"The nurse."

She arched an eyebrow. "Really, moody?"

It took me a second, but I caught on. She's the nurse. "Oh my god, Santana," I chuckled.

"Finally, a smile," she said. I pursed my lips to try to bit back my grin, but it didn't really help. "I got you out. What's next?"

I linked my finger with my hair tie, then smoothly pulled down my high pony. "Anything. I just really don't want to be here."

"Thought you didn't want to be around me," she pointed as we walked.

"Oh, I don't," I assured her, "but you're the only one who can get me out of here with getting me marked absent."

"So, you're using me?" She was exaggerating, so I couldn't help but laugh again.

"Not exactly," I said through my chuckles.

"What do I get as a thanks?" She asked teasingly.

"Thank you," I nodded. She clicked her tongue.

"I don't think that'll cut it."

I looked around. We're alone. "I hate you, you know?" She raised an eyebrow, but didn't do anything. I wrapped my arms around her neck.

"Anyone can come out right now," she said.

"I don't care."

"Q-"

I inched closer to her face. "Do you really want me to stop?"

"Yes." But she tilted her chin upward, her lips ghosted over mine. Slowly, I put my arms down. Then I took a step back.

"Let's get out of here," I said after I took a breath.

"I just want something different," I explained. We're sitting in the living room, the house is empty. Bar us, of course. As soon as we got here, I ran upstairs and ripped off my uniform. Now, I'm wearing a pair of sweats and a tank top.

"Elaborate," she said without looking at me. She's watching some movie, but I'm not paying attention to it. I'm too busy having my midlife crisis at the tender age of seventeen.

"I don't know," I groaned. "I just- with the uniforms, and the same people, and the same fights-"

"So basically, you're bored?" She asked with a half smile.

"And I don't want this," I said, gesturing between the two of us. "There's way too much confusion that I can live without." She frowned. "But, I tried cutting you off. But I live with you, and you're stubborn."

"Damn straight," she said.

"I just want a little bit of change."

"Don't run for ice queen at the winter formal. That'll shake things up," she shrugged.

"You and I both know that people will write my name in. I'll win, even if I don't show up."

"Well aren't you humble."

"Santana, I'm serious. If I keep living like this, I'm going to go insane."

Finally, she looked at me. "Then lets get you a puppy."

"Are you kidding me?"

"No, you want something new, we're going to get you a dog. It'll keep your mind off yourself."

"You want to give me even more responsibility? San, I can hardly take care of myself, let alone another life."

"You take care of Rhys."

"That's different. I didn't get Rhys from Petco."

"Fine, we won't get you a dog," she chuckled. After a few seconds, she asked, "Is it yourself that you want to change, or the things around you?"

"Both."

"What if I told you I knew a way you could do both, with only a little bit of consequence?"

"I'd tell you that I'm interested."

At that, she smiled. "You've gotta trust me."

I scrunched up my eyebrows. As much as I can't stand it, I trust her more than I trust myself. "I trust you."

When we walked through the Beauty Supply store's door, there were a few chimes. "What are we doing here?" I asked her. She kept walking.

"Just picking up a few things." She told me. I followed her. When she stopped abruptly, I bumped into her. "Watch where you're going," she said as she turned down the aisle. I scoffed and followed. When she stopped again, I was prepared. "Here we are," she stated. I looked at was she was talking about, and my jaw dropped. Hair dye.

"Santana-"

"Dying your hair is one of the best subtle signs of rebellion there is," she explained. "You act the same way, but people will look at you differently because of… well, your hair."

"I don't know… I don't think Sue would let me," I said.

She rolled her eyes. "Just tell her you'll dye it back in time for that competition."

"You know about that?" I asked.

"Sure I do. Now," she turned to face all the colors, "pick your poison."

"Have you ever done this?" I asked nervously.

"Once when I was fourteen. My hair was blonde for about a week," she admitted.

I tried to hold back my laughter, I really did. "I'm sorry I just… I can't see it."

"Please, I looked hot," she said confidently.

"Then why'd you change it back?" I asked.

"My dad hated it. You're stalling."

I shrugged. "'I'm nervous." We heard someone come in downstairs, then Rhys's and Leos voices. Maribel must have picked them up today. "I've never gotten more than a trim."

"Look, you don't have to do this. But, you won't regret it," she said. Then she gave me that cute little smile that said 'You know you'll do this just because I asked you to,'. I gave in.

"Let's do this," I said.

Within minutes, I was leaning over the sink as Santana worked her fingers through my hair. "I can't believe you're actually going through with this," she told me.

"I can't either," but my voice was muffled. She turned off the water. When I stood straight up, she wrapped my hair in a towel.

"When the timer goes off, we're supposed to rinse out the dye," she told me. Then, she took my hand and guided me to her room. I didn't protest. Then we sat on her bed. My shirt was basically soaked, but I don't mind. Honestly, I kind of like it. It's cooling. "Why are we so complicated?" She blurted.

"Hm?" I hummed.

"I'm sorry, Quinn," she said.

"Santana, what are you-"

"You're already going through a lot. And here I am, practically screaming at you to be my secret. I called you selfish, but it's really me. Your house burned down, your mom told me that you guys are super low on cash, and I'm complicating your life even more."

"San-"

"But I don't want to stop," she ignored me. "I just want to keep doing this, because it seems like you only ever talk to me when I'm bugging you, and you only touch me when you want to kiss me."

"I-"

"If I were a boy, would you be with me?" She asked. At that, I scoffed.

"If that was the case, I'd be with Noah right now."

She scrunched up her nose. "I don't want you to be with him."

"And I don't want to be with him. Or Sam. I want to be with you-"

"You hate me," she reminded me.

"But I also lo- like you," I caught myself. "You make me mad, and calm, and you make my skin feel really hot, but cold at the same time. I don't know why.. I just really like being around you."

She smiled. "I think you're some sort of masochist," she said.

I shook my head and hit her arm softly. "Thats exactly what I wanted to hear," I said sarcastically.

"So, we like eachother. What's next?" She asked. The timer dinged.

"Next, we rinse."

We were quiet. The only sound that could be heard as we ate dinner, was the clinking of forks against plates. With my newly pink hair, I felt a different kind of confidence. Not the kind that wearing a uniform gave me, but a personal confidence. Santana likes it.

"Is someone going to tell me why Quinn's hair looks like cotton candy?" Leo blurted. Santana choked on her water, I smiled, and my mom dropped her fork. Maybe she thought it was all in her head, and that my hair was still blonde.

"I did it," Santana admitted. Maribel gave her a look, but Santana shrugged it off. Momma kept eating.

"I like it," Rhys smiled. "Can I do that?" He asked.

"Maybe-"

"Absolutely not," Momma said. I refrained from rolling my eyes. "And you're fixing it."

"Fixing what?" I asked as I gently placed my fork down.

"That," she sighed. "It isn't acceptable. You've never done anything like this before-"

"Momma, I like my hair the way it is," I explained delicately. We stared at each other, the others watched.

"If it interferes with your cheerleading, it has to go," she said finally.

This is as close to winning as I'll get. "Yes Momma."

"Quinn!" Santana came through my door without knocking. I'd just put on my shirt, and was about to brush my teeth. "Q, we have a problem." I looked at her. Her eyes were glossed, like she was about to cry, and her cheeks were flushed.

"Santana, what's wrong?" I asked carefully.

"Fucking JBI saw us. In the hallways he saw us," she practically tossed her backpack onto my bed. "It's on his stupid blog."

I looked at the website. I have to admit, it's a nice photo of us. I have my arms around her neck, and her lips are close to mine. With my cheerio uniform, and her leather jacket, we look like the perfect star crossed couple. "I'm sorry Santana," I said softly.

"Everyone is going to know now. Everyone is going to know, because of you!" She yelled.

"Santana, calm down." She's pacing my room.

"It was just posted- we can get him to take it down-"

"The whole school reads that stupid blog!" She ignored me. She stopped pacing and approached me. "And you don't even care."

"No, I-"

"I saw you smile. You planned this!"

"Don't assume things-"

"You know that I don't want to be out, so you're trying to force me. Fuck that, and fuck you."

"Santana, please, just-" What happened next, I don't think either of us expected. I tried to grab her wrist, but she shoved me away. Hard. I looked up at her from the floor, she had her hand over her mouth. Without another word, she turned and walked out of my room.

It wasn't difficult to get Jacob to remove the picture. I just went to his 'Contact me' page,sent him an eMail that promised three interviews next week, and voila. It was down in fifteen minutes. Now, it's a little after eleven, and I don't want to sleep. I slid out of my bed, and walked down the hallway towards Santana's room. She didn't respond when I knocked.

"Santana?" I said softly. No reply. "San, the picture is down." Nada. "Please let me in," I said a little louder. I expected the door to be locked, but it opened easily. Just as I was about to step in-

"What are you doing?" Her voice startled me.

"Oh, you're out here," I'm thankful for the dim lighting. Otherwise, my red cheeks would be evident.

"Yeah, I am. Why are you going in my room?"

"I wanted to talk to you-"

"It's late. I'm tired."

"The pictures are gone, San. I didn't plan anything, I thought we were alone."

"Bullshit, we're never really alone in the middle of a hallway."

I sighed. "I know. I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry for pushing you," she mumbled.

"It was a heated moment. But now, we get to make up," I smiled hopefully. I finally broke her indifferent expression, she gave me a smile.

"And what kind of makeup are we talking about here?" She asked teasingly.

"A little some'n some'n," I said, just as teasingly.

"Oh yeah?"

I giggled. "Yes." I opened her door all the way and pulled her inside.

"Q, are we… are we having sex?" She blurted. I bit my lip and shook my head.

"Get your mind out of the gutter. I'm in the celibacy club."

Her smile dropped. "Are you kidding me?"

"I'm in it," I shrugged. "So you'll just have to wait." I wonder how long I can keep this up without laughing.

"Quinn, I'm not going to ask you to marry me," she deadpanned. "We're in high school! And I know that it's legal in all states, but that's still pretty fresh and if anything we should wait until it's a little more… you know?"

"Are you planning to marry me just so you can get into my pants?" I asked, with one eyebrow arched. She sputtered a little, so I finally broke character.

"Oh, you bitch," she pouted.

"I'm in the club, it's true. But I'm waiting until I'm ready, so maybe not until marriage. Or in this case, until we're ready. Let's face it San, we're a mess."

She linked our fingers. "I like our mess."

"Please, we can't go a day without fighting."

"Maybe it's all that pent up sexual frustration," she shrugged. Then she yawned.

"Come on, you dork. Tonight, let's just sleep. We both know that sex would just complicate things even more."

"But promise me one thing," she said sleepily as we laid down.

"Hm?"

"If you won't be my secret yet-"

"Santana-"

"Let me be your first time. Okay?"

After a few seconds of silence, I nodded. "Okay."

We didn't kiss that night, let alone have sex. But her leg was over mine, and her face was only a few inches away. I like this. I like being here with her, being connected like this. And I like my pink hair, consequences be damned.

I opened my eyes and blinked. I forgot where I fell asleep last night. Santana's legs are both on me, but her upper body is almost off of the bed.

"San," I said. "San," I nudged her a little. She squinted as she pushed herself up, then smiled lazily at me. Then, her eyes were closed and she was laying on my shoulder. "Santana," I giggled.

"Ten more minutes," she mumbled. I chuckled. We're probably already late, so whats another ten minutes. Soon, I felt myself start to drift off. "Mmm, Quinn," I heard Santana mumble. I jerked awake.

"Um, San…"

"Yes… right there, right there, Quinn," she whined. Oh god. She's- no. My face went beet red in a matter of seconds.

"Santana, it's time to wake up," I started to move.

"Ohhh, I'm- I'm- I," then her eyes opened, and she grinned mischievously. "I gotcha." I gasped and pushed her off of me, she went tumbling off the bed in laughter.

"That's not funny!"

"You should've seen your face!" She laughed. "Quinn," she climbed back up on the bed, "you're s-so red," oh she thinks she's funny.

"Aren't you just a comedian," I grumbled.

"Are you mad?" She asked. I looked at her and rolled my eyes.

"No."

"You sound mad."

I smiled. "I'm not mad," I assured her. "A little flustered though."

She hummed, then rolled over to check the time. "It's almost eleven," she said. My eyes widened.

"I didn't know we slept in that much," I quickly got out of her bed. When I turned around, there was a mirror on her wall. I'd forgotten about my hair. "Oh shit," I ran my fingers through it.

"You know, if you wanna rebel any more, we can get you a pixie cut," Santana said suggestively.

I shook my head. "I think this is enough for now." She got up and stood beside me, then wrapped her arms around my waist.

"It does make a statement," she said. "I like it."

"I'm glad," I smiled.

"Looks like cotton candy," she mused. I laughed softly.

"We should get ready to go," I said. She nodded, but neither of us moved. "San."

"People are going to assume things," she said. "If we're both late, and your hair is pink… I think I'll just stay home today."

"San, I got the picture down."

"I know," she sighed and stepped back. Now, she's sitting on her bed looking up at me. "Still. Maybe someone else just so happened to look at his page last night."

"How about," I sat next to her, "we come out as friends."

She looked at me. "Because the J's and C's would totally be cool with that."

"I don't care."

"Santana, last time there were rumors about our friends being friends, do you remember what happened?"

"Well, yeah, but-"

"And you want that to happen all over again, just so that we can be friends? When we're not even that?"

I saw down next to her. "Santana, I think it's time to stop saying that. We're friends. Friends who-"

"Have sex dreams about each other?"

"I was going to say kiss each other. But whatever happens after this is for us to worry about later. Look, I'm not going to be your secret. You can't to come out yet, I get that. I wont try to kiss you in the hall. But I'm going to say hi, and I'm going to talk to you in AP US."

"And what if I just tell everyone that you're insane?"

I shrugged. "That's your choice."

"You're being pushy again," she grumbled.

"I'm the only one who'll push you."

We drove separately. Baby steps, I suppose. Santana must have taken a detour, because I beat her here.

"W-wow," Sam saw me first. My pink hair was pulled into a high pony, as if it'd always been that way.

"Do you like it?" I smiled charmingly. His eyes were wide. In fact, everyone's were. They were gawking as if I'd shaved my head, and I loved it.

"It-it's different," he managed.

"I, for one, think it looks delicious," Brittany said as she linked her arm through mine. "Like cotton candy."

"Thank you, Britt," I smiled.

"It looks.. pink?" Blaine tried. I chuckled and rolled my eyes.

"Well, that was the idea."

"And who's idea was it?" Sam asked curiously.

"Mine," I lied. When we walked through the halls, I ignored the stares. My attention was elsewhere, searching for the familiar brown eyes that I haven't seen all morning. Before I knew it, a microphone was shoved in my face.

"Quinn Fabray! Any comment on the new hair?" Jacob squealed.

"I wanted something new," I said easily. "Sometimes I forget that I'm in high school, and I need to figure myself out."

"You heard it here first folks," Jacob said as he turned to face the camera, "the rumors are false, this was not a prank!" Then, he was off. I chuckled softly to myself.

"Quinn," the next voice was the one of my Spanish teacher. "I noticed the new hair, and that's usually a sign of trying to find your place. I just wanted you to know, everyone has a place in Glee Club. You're always welcome," he said. I scrunched up her eyebrows.

"Since when does dying my hair mean that I want to join your club?" I asked. "Thanks, but I'll pass."

"Did you want attention?" Sam whispered into my ear. I rolled my eyes.

"Sam, I wanted my hair to be pink, okay?" I hissed. He put the hand that wasn't holding mine up in defense. "In a little while, it'll be old news."

"Then what, you'll dye it purple?" He mumbled.

"If I want to, then yes." I can tell he hadn't intended for me to hear him, but I replied anyway. It's my hair. My choice. I looked forward again, and caught sight of exactly who I'd been looking for.

"Fabray," Santana greeted confidently. She held out a cup for me. It looked like a Lima Bean coffee cup.

"Lopez," I smirked as I took it. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

Our friends eyed us uneasily. They probably expected me to toss it at her. Instead, I brought it to my lips. After our little staring contest, we went our own ways.

"Okay, what the hell was that?" Kitty, a fellow cheerio, asked. I hardly spoke to her out of practice.

"It was me getting coffee," I said, as if it was obvious.

"What if she poisoned it?" Another one asked.

"Or drank from it? I heard she has the herps," Kitty stated. I scoffed.

"That's a stupid rumor."

"Since when are you cool with her?" Sam asked me.

"Since I realized that this whole thing is stupid, and we're graduating this year. This kind of thing won't happen in college." I explained.

Slowly, he nodded. "So, what are you saying?"

"I'm saying, we need to stop acting mature."

"So...we just, become friends with the Black Jacks?" Blaine asked. I nodded. "And what if this is just their attempt at being at the top of the food chain?"

"They don't care about the food chain," I said, "they don't care about being popular. That's why they've been so good at getting under our skin. We care, and they don't. We made rules that they don't give a crap about."

"So you want us to stop caring?" Sam asked. It felt nice to take charge. To have the loudest voice.

"We're big fish here, Sam. But out there, we're tiny. None of this really matters."

"You sound like one of them," Blaine pointed.

"Exactly," I smiled. "Just trust me on this."

"Q, if this backfires-" Sam started. I leaned up to kiss his cheek.

"It won't."

I couldn't help but wonder what Santana's friends thought of the whole thing. I'll just have to ask her later.

"Well if it isn't McKinley's golden girl gone bad," someone said. "Or should I say, pink?" I smiled t my reflection. Kitty eyes Santana uneasily. "Get out, Wilde."

"It's the ladies bathroom. Are you sure you should be in here?" Kitty bit. I closed my lip gloss. Santana can handle this. Plus, I know she won't take well to me defending her.

"I thought I said to beat it," Santana approached her. Kitty's hands rested on her hips, while Santana's arms were crossed. Although she wasn't very tall (I'm a bit taller), she was intimidating all the same. "Or does the school need to find out about a certain cheerleader hooking up with a boy with a mohawk?"

"I was drunk," Kitty hissed.

"I couldn't care less."

Kitty looked at me for defense, but I only shrugged. "You're lucky Quinn likes you for some reason," she grumbled as she left the bathroom. Santana held up a ring of keys.

"Is it just you in here?" She asked. I nodded. I leaned against the sink as she locked the door.

"Kitty hooked up with Noah?" I asked.

"Apparently," she chuckled. "I was bluffing."

"So, what're you doing in here?" I asked.

"So just because I'm here, I have an agenda?" She joked. I smiled.

"Well, can you blame me for being curious after you locked the door?"

"Yes, actually. This is all your fault," she said through chuckles. "I've been teased relentlessly by the guys this morning."

"Oh?"

She hummed and walked towards me. "Apparently, I'm hot for you," she said.

"Apparently?" She stood in front of me.

"Mhm. And apparently, I'm going soft for you."

"Oh, now that one just can't be true."

"Needless to say, today's been pretty rough." Her arms wrapped around my waist. My elbows rested on her shoulders, and my fingers linked behind her head. "How did golden boy like your hair?"

"He thinks it's a cry for attention," I shrugged.

"Is it?"

I eyed her for a second, then shook my head. "I think I have all the attention I want." She smiled when she realised what I meant.

"I like this," she said as she softly brushed her nose against mine.

"Can we keep this?" I asked. Our foreheads were pressed together, our arms wrapped around each other.

"Sure," she chuckled. I made the first move by pressing my lips against hers.

"Can I keep you?"

She was hesitant. I didn't give her time to answer before I closed the space between us. For once, I know exactly what I want. All of these epiphanies are kind of giving me whiplash, but I like this one the best. I can have Santana. I can have the good grades, and I can have college, and whatever comes after. It's not choosing between the two, it's choosing both. I just hope that she chooses me too.

"Quinn! Quinn! Everybody saw this morning, when Black Jack, Santana Lopez, gave you coffee. Are the rumors true? Will there be a truce taking place in Mckinley High?" JBI asked. I took a breath. Every word I say counts.

"I can't speak for everybody," okay, nice start Quinn, "but I know that personally, I'm tired of this rivalry. There are more important things to focus on." Like Santana. "Like Cheer nationals, and the Winter Formal."

"And rumors of romance?" He asked, his shaky hand pushed the mike closer to me. I rolled my eyes.

"If Quinn was into girls, she wouldn't be with Hopez," Kitty stated sharply. I gave her a quick stern look, before looking directly at the camera.

"We're working on being civil," I said.

"On the record, there is nothing between you and Ms. Lopez?"

I clenched my jaw, and smiled tightly. He's pushing it. "I already said what I have to say," I told him, "no further comments."

I can't out myself without outing Santana too. And as much as I want us to be together, she's right. I'm a little pushy.

Today was going moderately okay until this happened. Now, Sam is staring at me with his blue puppy dog eyes, with this hopeful dopey smile on his face. The cafeteria is looking at me like this is what they've been waiting for. And all I want to do it eat my brownie in peace.

I should have known something was up when Kitty and Brittany had this anxious look they were both sporting, and when they immediately looped their arms in mine. Red flags were all around when I noticed Sam was the only one who wasn't at our table.

"What's going on?" I'd asked carefully. They just smiled, and told me to wait. Then, there was a strum of a guitar, and the cafeteria was silent. When I saw that it was Sam, I had to refrain from groaning. He's so sweet. If he'd done this about a month ago, I'd have swooned. But there he was, singing to me and walking towards me. I could hear a few people harmonizing- that's when I noticed that he got the Glee club involved. The song was I'm Your's, so there was just enough cliche mixed in to make my stomach turn.

"Q," he said, once he was in front of me, "I don't really get what you're doing, but I'm trying. I'm going to back you up- see, that's why I went to Rachel. If you want all of us to be friends by graduation, I will help. I support you, and I really like you. A lot," he grinned. I smiled softly in return, but said nothing. He cleared his throat. "Quinn, will you be my girlfriend?"

I know what I'm supposed to say. I'm supposed to say yes. If I do that, then there's no questions. But if I don't, then there's too many, and JBI still have one interview left with me. I looked at him, and took my bottom lip between my teeth. This is for Santana.

I hadn't planned on that happening, but honestly, I don't even know what she's going to say. This chapter wrote itself.

But, I'd just like to point out that instead of smoking under the bleachers, Santana is getting Quinn to go to class. Mostly.

I like how they're both changing, and taking character traits from each other. It's like they're molding into who they are. Anyway, I'll see you guys soon. Also, The Fame Killer was fantastic. I also read 'As If We Never Said Goodbye' (Catty Jay). I hope that I can be as talented as hose writers, and I recommend reading those. They're both complete. Okay. Bye guys (:

(please lemme know what you think maybe? I'm not even sure about how I feel about this one.)