so i wasn't gonna update today because I want to try to get organised and whatnot, but Chapter 17... well, I'll tell you about it after you read this chapter. On with the story...

Turns out, more people dyed their hair than we thought. It's like we started a revolution or something. People came up to me and thanked me, apparently they'd wanted to do it for a while, but were afraid of getting slushied. And when Santana stood by me, hardly paying attention to the conversations, they whispered that they supported us. Santana pretended not to care, but I knew she did.

All was well until the news got around to the Puck Heads. We were walking with the Black Jacks. It must have looked amusing, me with my pink hair, uniform, and Santana's leather jacket. But their leader, Rick or something, approached us with a cocky smirk. He eyed me, and I couldn't help but squirm. Santana immediately sensed how uncomfortable I was and took a step forward so her shoulder would be in front of mine.

"Did you need something?" Santana asked in stoic tone. Her face read, 'I don't have time for you. At all.'

"Not you, don't think you have any hope," he said. His voice oozed cockiness. "But I might be able to straighten pinky out here out. Seeing as how Sammy boy was so lame, went and made you gay."

"First of all-"

"Who the fuck do you think you're talking to?" Noah interrupted. "You think that you'd have any sort of chance with either of these ladies. You think I wasn't a little butt hurt that Jewish Jesus made these two smokin hot girls, and gave them to each other? Suck it the fuck up."

Rick shifted uncomfortably. "I-I don't r-recall talking to you, Puckerman," he sputtered.

"Ha!" Noah boomed.

"Turn yourself around before I shove that stick of yours where the sun don't shine," Santana sneered. Rick's team muttered things to each other, but he gave them a look that silenced them.

"Whatever. You're not even that hot," he shrugged. I scoffed. Seriously? Typical. He went off, and I let out of a breath that I wasn't aware of holding.

"Think that's the worse?" I asked.

"Wasn't bad," Santana smiled. "Thank you, Noah," she said gratefully.

"I've got your back," he shrugged. Then he looked at me. "Your's too. Let me know if anyone bothers you."

"Holy shit," Santana said. We followed her line of sight, and our eyes widened in shock. Sam was walking by himself. Letterman jacket. Perfect hair. Red slushie, dripping down his face.

Holy shit.

"I'm gonna-"

"You don't have to," Santana assured me.

"He's still my friend," I said. She nodded in understanding, and pressed a quick kiss against my lips. I faced her friends (my friends too now, I suppose) "Thanks, Noah," I smiled. I nodded towards the rest of them, then went after Sam.

"This hasn't happened since freshman year," he hissed. "The rest of the guys weren't around. JBI wasn't there."

"Sam, I'm-"

"Sorry? I bet. Do you know how freaking embarrassing this is? Rick tossed a slushie at me. Rick. I'm going to kill him-"

"Sam! That isn't you," I furrowed my eyebrows.

"And what, this is you?" He lightly flicked the sleeve of Santana's jacket. "Everything is changing, Q. This is messing everything up." His voice was softer now.

"Maybe it's time," I shrugged.

"Who are you?" He asked. "Seriously, because the girl I know wouldn't do any of this. Her hair would be blonde, her jacket would say Cheerios, and she'd be my girl friend Now you're some dyke who's all buddy buddy with the Black Jacks."

"I'm not that girl anymore, Sam," I said calmly.

"Yeah," he scoffed, "I noticed." I reached out to touch his shoulder, to try to soothe him in some sort of platonic way, but he shrugged away from me. "Don't. Haven't you led me on enough?" He took my silence as an answer. "Thought so." He walked away, leaving me with the few other people who were in the hallway.

"Q," I heard Santana's voice. She was walking down the hallway. Immediately, her fingers laced with mine. "I wasn't listening in, I swear. He was walking away and I felt weird- people usually avoid eye contact, but they were all staring and-"

I cut her off with a lingering kiss. "It's okay," I said against her lips.

"Are you?" She asked. "Okay, I mean."

I took a breath and looked into her eyes, which were full of concern. I smiled. "Yeah. I'm fine."

She winced. "I hate that word."

"Fine?"

"Yeah."

"I love learning more things about you," I said, almost dreamily. The bell rang, interrupting our little moment. I didn't really mind though. I knew we'd have plenty more.

"Oceanography, here we come," she said. I don't think I've ever seen her happy about going to a class. I giggled a little when she let go of my hand, and linked our arms. Yeah, this place really needed this change.

I decided that it wouldn't be the best idea to sit in the cafeteria today. Santana's friends are pretty cool with everything. All this time, I thought they were just arrogant immature people. But now, I see that they're not. That's how I was acting. There's Noah, pretty much the leader of the group. Or, no, not leader, but he talks the most. Takes charge when it's necessary. There's Mike, who hardly speaks at all. His girl friend, Tina. Her hair has purple stripes in it, but I'm pretty sure those were there before mine. But then again, I've never really noticed her before. Bree, who now that I think about, might have been a Cheerio before. There's a few more people that respectfully nodded, but didn't bother introducing themselves.

"It's pretty cool. The whole out thing that you're doing," Tina said.

"Yeah, none of us thought you guys would do it," Mike added.

"Calling me a punk, boy Chang?" Santana half joked. I cuddled further into her. We're taking up the couch, while the others either stood, or sat on some broken bleachers that were tossed back here. It smells like smoke, but it's soothing in a way. Santana's scent takes over, so that makes it worth it.

"Never, Lopez," Mike gave her a smile, then Tina moved his chin and kissed him. The sight of them frenching kind of made me want to hurl, so I closed my eyes and focused on Santana.

"How do you guys ever leave this place? It's so peaceful. It's like we're not even at school," I said, my eyes still screwed shut.

"Some of us don't," Noah chuckled.

"That would be me," Zizes raised her hand, "most of my teachers are scared that if they fail me, I'll have to take their class again."

"Hey, where's Sebastian? Doesn't he usually hang out with you guys?" I asked curiously. They chuckled, so I opened my eyes. "What? What's funny?"

"Sebs doesn't go here, babe. He goes to some private school," Santana explained.

"Dick-Ton," Noah said. Santana scoffed.

"Dalton," she corrected.

"Then how do you know him?" I asked. Santana smiled and looked at Noah, who glanced nervously at Mike and Tina.

"Go on," Santana said. "Tell her."

"Do we have to?" Tina grumbled. I think Santana gave her a look, because Mike cleared his throat. He coughed and said something that I couldn't comprehend.

"What was that?" Santana asked with her teasing voice.

He coughed again.

"Didn't catch that," I said.

"We're in Glee Club! Okay? There," Tina said. I raised both eyebrows in surprise. "Sebs is in the Glee Club at his school, we met him at a hotel party for all the clubs to bond or something."

"You too?" I asked Noah. He shrugged. "Oh wow," I smiled. "Why?"

"Schuster caught us smoking back here, and said that if we join, he won't come back, and no one would find out," he mumbled.

"He's that desperate?" I chuckled.

"Hey, I'm a good singer. Plus I play guitar. I'm the total package," he smirked.

"Yeah, and the skunk on your head completes the deal," Santana taunted.

"Whatever," he waved her off, "we did what we had to do."

"Uh uh, not we. You three," Bree said. "The rest of us do it while classes are in session."

"Come on, Bree. It's not their fault they're…" Zizes crossed her arms, "stupid." She and Bree started laughing almost hysterically.

"They're a little high," Santana told me. I nodded. That explained it.

"So why don't you join?" I asked her. She looked at me like I was insane. I was joking, but I kept my expression serious.

"Are you fucking with me?" She asked.

"No," I pressed the joke further, "I find you insanely attractive," she smirked at that, "and you could only get hotter if you sung." Okay, so that part was true. But her voice is amazing when she talks- I've never heard her sing before.

"Not going to happen," she said. I gave her a little pout. "You're shitting me," she said. "Babe."

I cracked a smile, and she rolled her eyes. "Really, I want to hear you sing someday," I said honestly.

"I don't do showtunes."

"Neither do we," Noah perked up. "I stick to rock. The girls sing what they want too- last week was Mariah Carey week."

"I don't sing at all. I just dance, and make them seem better," Mike told me.

"They mostly just look constipated- but they can sing pretty well."

"Motta can't, but she's pretty hot," Noah shrugged.

"Pig," Bree muttered.

"Oink, baby," he winked. She scoffed. It almost surprised me, how normal they are. God, every time they speak, I'm reminded of how wrong I was about them.

"I'm not joining the stupid club," Santana said sternly.

"But, you'll be in the audience at Nationals," Noah smiled knowingly. She rolled her eyes.

"I wouldn't miss it, you ass," she chuckled. "And my girl will be joining me, isn't that right?" She moved her arm a little to shake me. I laughed and nodded. If she was there, I'd be there too. "Are you hungry? Lunch is almost over."

"Not really. I kind of don't want to move," I mumbled into the crook of her neck. She turned a little until her mouth was right next to my ear.

"If you keep breathing on my neck like that, our first time will be right in front of my friends," she whispered.

"Oh," my voice was lower than I intended, and I felt my cheeks flush.

"Secrets aren't fun unless they're shared with everyone," Noah teased. I swallowed and looked up at him.

"I think this ones just for me," I told him. He held his hands up in mock defense, so I chuckled. I couldn't get use to this.

"Noah, how would you feel about your little club performing at the winter formal?"

"A little Rock and Roll never hurt nobody," he shrugged. "Only if San performs with us."

"No way in Hell," she nearly spat. I kissed her neck, and felt her relax.

"We'll see," I answered for her. I closed my eyes again, and carefully avoided Santana's neck. I don't want our first time to be in front of a crowd.

"Well if it isn't the leather pop pixie princess," Kitty greeted.

"What does that even mean?" I asked as I walked to the sink next to her's. I came to touch up my makeup, and completely forgot that she usually goes at around the same time. Shows how much of a routine I had.

"What are you doing, Quinn?" She asked. "Just trying to shake things up before you graduate, so I can't be at the top?"

"Kitty-"

"That was a bitch move, Quinn."

I glared at her. "I'm still head Cheerio, don't forget that."

"But for how much longer?" She asked as she closed her lip gloss, and turned to look at me. "Sue doesn't care for the new 'do. Maybe you should have thought this through, instead of letting that lesbo brainwash you."

"I make my own decisions-"

"Since when, Q?" She asked. "Seriously, tell, when have you ever made one decision yourself?"

"I'm deciding not to be around you guys," I said sharply. My tone made her shoulder slump a little, but she didn't back down. Props to her. "Soon, you'll see it. Things just aren't right around here. high school shouldn't feel so toxic."

"Whatever, Quinn. Just let me know when you're over this weird leather fetish," she brushed by me.

My friends: 0

Santana's friends: 1000

How did it take me so long to see that.

During the drive home, I was on a happy buzz. I hummed along to the radio, and Santana smiled and drummed her fingers on the steering wheel.

"So, I was thinking…." she started slowly.

"Should I be worried?"

"Don't be a bitch," she chuckled.

"Sorry, go on," I smiled.

"I want to take you out," she said quickly. I held back a smile.

"But you have."

"What are you talking about?"

"Remember? That night when I did graffiti for the first time?" I teased. She rolled her eyes.

"No, seriously. Let's go out somewhere, anywhere."

"Alright. When?" I asked.

"Friday night. After Your mom and Rhys leave," she said. I nodded.

"Okay. Yes."

"Really?" Her eyes lit up.

"What, did you think I'd say no?" I laughed teasingly. The look on her face said it all. "San, I think today proved that I don't mind going public with you. I prefer it, actually."

"Still," she breathed.

"I adore you," I told her. And I meant it. "And I don't care who knows it, as long as you do, okay?"

"Okay," she smiled. "Just so you know, we're going to Christopher's."

"Is that the place with the breadsticks that are frozen and flown in from the Dominican republic?"

"That's a damn lie that some shit head from Olive Garden made up. Those Breadsticks are my heart and soul," she said defensively.

"Alright, alright," I giggled. "Breadsticks it is then." I've heard about those breadsticks, obviously. But it took me a while to figure out that the place was actually called Christopher's. I've never been there, because Sue strongly advised against it. And by strongly advised, I mean she told us that if we gained a fraction of a pound, we were off the squad. But, I'd risk a few carbs and extra laps for Santana any day.

Santana didn't ask questions when I told her I was going to Brittany's house. She knew that I always helped her with her English, and Britt helped me with math. It's how we've always been. I haven't done it lately, and I feel bad, she's still one of my best friends. I just hope she sees me the same way. If not, I hope she sees me in a better way.

She opened her front door with a mega watt smile, wearing her cheer sweats and a tank top like she usually did during our study time. "You came," she grinned.

"Here I am," I laughed softly with a shrug. She stepped aside and opened the door a little wider for me to step inside.

"My parentals took Stacey out, so it's just us and Tubbs today," she told me. I hummed. "So, does this mean we're going to talk about girls instead of boys now? Because I don't mind, we can totally talk about how awesome Angelina Jolie's cheekbones are."

I chuckled, "B, we don't have to talk about anything that makes you uncomfortable." We walked up the staircase, and followed the familiar path to her bedroom.

"It doesn't. I thought you would be before, but now that you're a lady lover, we can," she smiled.

"Wait, Britt, are you saying that you're… you're gay?"

"No, I like boys. Hot boys. And hot girls," she said as she plopped down on her bean bag. "I like hot people."

"So, you're bisexual?"

"Are you too?"

"U-um," I tentatively sat down on her bed and crossed one leg over the other, "I don't know? I mean, I," I lowered my voice a tad, but not on purpose, "I like Santana a lot. More than Sam, and Finn, and any guy I've been with really."

She rolled her eyes. "Obviously. Q, if you were having trouble figuring yourself out, you could have talked to me."

I smiled gently. "I'm just attracted to Santana. I haven't felt this way about another girl. I'm not confused."

"Still. I just wish I didn't have to find out at the same time as everyone else. You're my best friend, Q."

"And you're mine," I told her. "It won't happen again."

"Good," she stood up abruptly. "I say, we skip the homework for now, and we make some cookies."

"Britt-"

"Nope. You owe me. You're not supposed to keep secrets from your best friend," she pointed. I rolled my eyes playfully.

"Fine," I told her as I stood up. "But next time, we're working."

She did a little happy dance, and skipped towards the door. "Oh," she said as she turned to face me, "and don't worry. We can save some for your girlfriend."

My friends: 1

Santana's friends: 1000

I hope Santana likes sugar cookies.

"I'm back," I said as I hit the door with my hip to close it. I figured Mom and Maribel just parked in the garage like they usually would, but the living room was quiet. "Any body here?" I called. "I brought cookies!"

Nothing. I walked through the kitchen first, and put the container of cookies on the counter. The oven's clock read 8:10. Where is everyone? I pursed my lips and started upstairs, hoping that Santana was up there. Her room door was closed, per usual.

"San?" I knocked gently on the door. I let out a sigh of relief when her voice told me to come in. I put my hand on the door knob and pushed, "Britt and I made cookies, but I'm pretty sure they're purely sugar. She said it's her grandma reci-ci- San," I stuttered when I saw the way she was looking at me. A devious, amused smile rested on her lips. She uncrossed her legs and sauntered towards me, then tugged at my wrist until we were both sitting on her bed.

"What were you saying?" She asked.

"I-I can't concentrate when you look at me like that," I sputtered. She chuckled darkly. I can't concentrate when I can feel her eyes on me. Or when she's dressed like that- in a simple pink tank top and shorts that are way too short, but have adorable little dots on them.

"Sorry," she smiled, but she didn't look it. "They went out, by the way. To the movies."

"On a Wednesday?"

"Your mom's way of cheering Rhys up," she shrugged. "But, it was Leo's idea." She inched closer to me, and I let out a nervous breath. "Quinn." I hummed. "Look at me."

Slowly, my eyes met hers. "Yes?" I asked carefully. I didn't mean to whisper, but I couldn't find my voice. She cradled my cheek with her hand and pulled me a little closer, then pressed her lips against mine. I felt her tongue swipe my bottom lip, so I opened my mouth a little. Tonight. I can feel it. We scooted back in the bed, our movements in sync. When she hovered over me, I had no doubts.

So that's the thing! I wrote smut for this story, finally, because I wanna stop bein a little bitch and putting it off. So yeah. After 17 chapters, 5 months, and over 40k words, Quinntana will be doing the deed.

.

And, as always, thank you for your kind words and suggestions. Drop a review if you felt any feels when Quinn started getting along with Santana's friends, or when Noah totally stuck up for her. If not, maybe I'll get you next time. See ya soon