Chapter 1

My name is Santana Lopez, age 16.

I'm in my second last year of school, here we call it the "Sixth Form", but it's more commonly known as Year 12. The good thing about being in your final years of school is that you can choose four of your favourite subjects to study and drop the rest. It works out in my favour because I'm quite specialised – I'm an aspiring medic so I do Maths, Chemistry, and Biology. And I also do Economics because it sounds interesting and I want to try it out, although I might drop it in the future.

Anyway, phrasing it in the least narcissistic way, I'm really good at what I do. I score consistently high in my tests and I'm usually at the top of my class. I'm not so sure about economics, however. I'll have to check it out, and if I don't like it, I can drop it and no harm is done.

"What's your next class?" My best friend and ally dork Sam Evans asks as I get some books out of my locker.

"Double econ, then maths," I reply. "What about you?" Sam's smile widens.

"Philosophy," he replies and I roll my eyes. Of course, he would choose that. Sam was always one to come up with the worst jokes and impressions, always laughing at the wrong time, and I'm pretty sure he chose philosophy so he can get all philosophical and make even worse jokes. Well, the joke's on him, nobody's laughing with him, that's for sure.

"Of course. Well, meet you here for lunch?"

"Of course," Sam grins. "And tell me how it goes! And make a few friends while you're there. But no bestie. I'm your bestie."

"Your bestie position is safe," I laugh. "Anyway, see you later."

Sam salutes and he's gone, and I'm heading up the stairs for my first econ class of the year. I'm not sure who's going to be in my class, really, I haven't asked around. Although I know there will be some new faces because people commonly transfer in Lower Sixth, or Year 12, so to speak.

Mr Schuester allocates me to sit in the front of the class for the seating plan, and as I'm one of the first there the classroom is quite empty. And since I'm already sitting comfortably, I take my chance to scrutinise the people in my class.

There are some familiar faces – Blaine is in my class, for example. And Mike, who sits near the back of the classroom. Damn, I wish I was next to him, Mike is also one of my friends because he's also super clever. He's more on the engineering side while I'm more on the medic side however, so I doubt we'll share many classes, which is a shame.

And then a new girl walks in with mid-length blonde hair and I'm pretty sure my heart stops when she looks in my direction, shouldering her cute, pink bag.

Her hazel eyes are one of the prettiest I've ever seen, and I find myself staring as she takes her seat beside Mike at the back. She makes eye contact with me and I quickly avert my gaze, feeling my cheeks flush.

Damn it.

In a quick round of introductions Mr Schuester makes us do, I find her name's Quinn Fabray. She went to a state school last year and enjoys playing hockey and tennis.

I make a mental note to buy a tennis racket. I'm not going to buy a hockey stick, however, the sport scares me. By her angelic voice, I can tell she's more the cute type, but since she looks really sporty, I'm scared she'll associate herself with the sporty gang who think they're so cool.

Anyway, the class goes and I find economics surprisingly easy, despite it being surprisingly humanity-like and not mathematical at all, the latter being what I hoped. I frequently cast a look back at Quinn, who looks a little helpless and flustered as Mike helps her with some of the work. She seems to be struggling a bit.

Damn, I wish I was in Mike's position right now. It should be me who's helping her!

"Any pretty girls catch your eye?" Sam grins when we meet for lunch after the lesson has ended.

Well, yes, a very pretty one in fact.

"Nope," I pop the end of the word, shrugging with a small smile.

Sam says something like "That's too bad" and keeps babbling, but I lose focus on what he's saying as my eyes drift past his shoulder and I see Quinn speaking to Finn and Noah, and some of the other sporty gang.

Oh, fuck me. She's getting corrupted already.

If I was in a position to do anything, I would. But whatever.

"Plenty of fish in the sea," Sam finishes whatever he was saying with a wink, and I guess I agree.

This goes on for a few months, me sometimes catching sight of Quinn who seems to be smart enough to dodge Finn and Noah and is in her own friend group with the girls' hockey team, like Brittany and the other blonde girls. Well, maybe I should've bought a hockey stick, because I may actually get to talk to her. Don't get me wrong, we've spoken a few times. But it's only a greeting, at most. And the one time I mustered the courage to call her as she passed me to start a conversation, one of her friends approached her and I lost my confidence.

Anyway, all is fun and games until a pandemic known as COVID struck and we were all forced into lockdown. Virtual learning, so fun.

Also, I can't see Quinn in person anymore, double fun.

"I'm going to put you all in breakout rooms now," Mr Schuester is saying in an insignificant virtual economics class through Microsoft Teams. "You'll be working in pairs, just working through the Price Elasticity worksheet. Any questions?"

Nobody raised their virtual hand.

I've had this with other classes already, and the most fun thing about breakout rooms is the 10-second anticipation when you're thrown out of the main room, waiting for who you are put in a room with. I've been put with Mike in Maths already, and this is my first economics breakout room.

Please be someone good.

My screen transitions as I leave the main room and I'm put in the breakout room. And I wait in anticipation for the initials of my partner.

And when they appear, my breath hitches.

A large circle with the letters QF inside it appears on my screen.

QF.

Quinn Fabray.