The last thing she wants to do after hanging up on her failed evening with Finn, is have a conversation with this girl.
She tries- she really tries to ignore Rachel entirely, the way she used to be able to in high school. But this girl discounts Quinn's tone and "fuck off" demeanor to an extent she'd never seen before. When Quinn wants to be left alone, she gets left alone. Her expressions have been known to make testicles shrivel on occasion.
"Uh huh."
"Rachel Berry? We didn't exactly run in the same circles, but my locker was just a few down from yours."
Of all people in the universe to be in this bar, why her? Someone must be out to get her, because Quinn doesn't deserve this. These aren't the high school memories she wanted to return to. "I remember who you are, RuPaul," she sneers as she takes another sip of the vodka tonic.
Rachel barely flinches, but it's there all the same, and Quinn decides to twist a little further. Her evening may have gone to hell, but it doesn't mean she can't still get something out of it. "That still gets at you, huh," she says, grinning.
Rachel stiffens. "I'm not sixteen anymore, Quinn, but the reminder was a little jarring." Rachel nibbles at a red pepper. "What brings you back to Lima? Last I heard, you were making it in Chicago."
She can't help the cross between disgust and curiosity that shows on her face. "How do you know what I'm doing."
Rachel shrugs. "In a post-Facebook age, it's not difficult to see where people have gone."
She pops the rest of the pepper into her mouth. "Also, Noah tends to fill in the gaps."
This time, Quinn can't help the genuine surprise from preventing eyebrows arching to her hairline. "Noah. Noah Puckerman? How the hell are you friends with him," she asks incredulously.
Rachel smiles sadly and for some reason it irritates Quinn more than anything. "That answers my other question."
"Which is?"
"You haven't changed one bit."