The exterior of Belville Elementary School was transformed into a dazzling spectacle of festive motifs. The façade was adorned with an enchanting display of twinkling lights, their colorful glow dancing against the backdrop of the snow-covered ground. Giant candy canes stood proudly along the hallways, adding a whimsical touch to the winter landscape, while oversized snowflakes gently swayed from the eaves, catching the soft glow of the holiday lights.
"I can't believe we're back here."
"It's like stepping back in time."
"Well, I'm going to give Sabrina the grand tour," Mason declared, intertwining his fingers with his wife's, "What about you guys?"
"Ace, Ellie, and I are heading to the ice hockey rink. Dad, you coming?" Jayden chimed in eagerly, leaping onto his best friend's back, eliciting laughter from Gabrielle as the two boys toppled to the ground.
"And what do you fancy doing?" Alec asked his wife, though the sparkle in his eyes betrayed his eagerness to join their son and his godson."The lady calls the shots."
"I suppose we could join them at the ice rink for a bit. I know it's something you've been looking forward to," Bailey replied with a warm smile, her fingers tracing the contours of her husband's face affectionately. "Gaby and I will make ourselves scarce—far away from your antics."
"And you, Ash? Any plans?" Sabrina directed her attention to her son.
"I think I'll wander around indoors for a bit," he responded thoughtfully, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. "I might as well snap some photos of all the embarrassing moments I can find of you lot."
The fluorescent lights above cast a sterile glow, illuminating the rows of lockers adorned with colorful drawings and stickers as Asher navigated through the quiet corridors, his footsteps echoed softly against the linoleum scanned the rows of class photos, each frame held a snapshot of past years' students frozen in time, capturing moments of innocence and camaraderie. And then, there it was – the one he had been seeking.
As he lowered his phone after snapping a photo, his brown eyes fell upon the neatly arranged row of names beneath the photograph. His gaze trailed along the list until one name stood – "Lucy Q. Fabray."
His brows furrowed in disbelief as he read the name again. He lifted his gaze back to the photograph, studying the chubby, green-eyed girl with brown-reddish hair who leaned affectionately towards a younger version of Isaac. In that moment, a surge of realization washed over him, and a swear word escaped his lips before he could stop it. The pieces of the puzzle clicked into place as he looked at his brother and the girl in the photograph, the truth staring back at him, plain as day.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me."
Santana was nosy, she liked to meddle in other people's affairs and make other people's business her business. Blaming her alter ego, Snixx, had become a common excuse whenever her nosiness led to trouble.
Today, she found herself in Quinn's room, hoping to uncover something new amidst the familiar surroundings. As she prowled, her hand inadvertently brushed against a book, sending it tumbling to the floor. A muttered curse escaped her lips before she stooped to retrieve it. But as she did, her gaze was snagged by something far more intriguing—a box nestled beneath the bed.
Bingo, she thought, mentally patting herself on the no regard for the fallen book, she made sure her friend was nowhere in sight. Settling onto the bed, she eagerly lifted the lid, anticipation tingling through her veins.
Inside lay an assortment of curiosities—a neatly folded navy-blue hockey jersey, a delicate crystal gardenia, and a stack of photographs featuring a boy and a girl. With a conspiratorial glance over her shoulder, ensuring her clandestine operation remained undetected, she liberated the contents from their cardboard confines, splaying them out on the bed.
The jersey was child-sized. Strange, she thought. It had a bulldog emblazoned upon its front but it was the name emblazoned on the back in vivid yellow—'Hargrave'—accompanied by the number 7, that sent her mind reeling.
"What the fuck," she muttered incredulously, her fingers tracing the embroidered letters.
Next, her attention turned to the crystal gardenia, reminiscent of the enchanted rose from "Beauty and the Beast." Santana was struck by its ethereal beauty, encased protectively within a transparent bell and as she examined it closer, her breath hitched at the sight of an inscription nestled at the base:
"I will always come back to you," signed 'I. Hargrave.'
The shock nearly caused her to fumble the delicate flower. "What the hell is all this?" she exclaimed, her voice betraying a mix of confusion and disbelief.
Carefully setting the gardenia aside, she seized upon the photographs, her brow furrowing in concentration. The boy in the images was unmistakably Isaac, his features younger and more innocent than she was accustomed to. However, it was the unidentified girl with brown-reddish hair who puzzled her.
"So, Hargrave, you're not as innocent as you appear," she jeered, her fingers deftly capturing the damning evidence with her cell phone. "No girlfriend, my ass."
But one detail seized her attention—the girl's were a vibrant shade of green she knew all too well.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Santana chuckled in disbelief, the pieces of the puzzle suddenly falling into place with a resounding click. "This is priceless."
"Santana, can I know what the fuck is taking you so—" Quinn's enraged voice sliced through the air, growing louder with each step as she approached her room.
As the doorknob turned, Santana braced herself for the inevitable confrontation, a smirk dancing upon her lips. With a forceful push, her blonde best friend burst into the room, her green eyes ablaze with fury as they locked onto her. But her rage faltered, replaced by a stark pallor as her gaze shifted to the scattered objects across her bed.
"Quinn Fabray," Santana drawled, elongating each syllable with a hint of malice relishing on the fear that flickered in her best friend's face, "or should I say Quinn Hargrave?"
A pregnant pause enveloped the room, broken only by the sound of Quinn's shaky breaths. Her brown eyes gleamed with satisfaction, reveling in the discomfort she had caused.
"You have a lot of explaining to do."
"Okay, I think I speak for everyone when I say that we all want to know what's the deal with the skunk," Asher declared, his tone laced with anticipation as he finished the last bite of his pizza, his eyes twinkling with curiosity.
Alec straightened up in his seat, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he prepared to regale them with the tale. "First and foremost, show some respect – the skunk had a name. Bernie, we called him," he declared, his tone one of mock solemnity, though a grin threatened to break through his facade.
"Wait, hold up. That thing had a name?" Sabrina interjected, her expression a mixture of disbelief and amusement as she regarded her friend incredulously. "Are you serious?"
"Absolutely. Jacob and I christened him before you and Soph kicked him out."
"That apartment smelled like shit, Alexander '' she countered, shaking her head. "Alright, listen up, because Alec here is probably going to twist the truth. The skunk did a number on his brain," she quipped with a smirk.
"Back in the day, Sophia and I were living with Bailey in New York City, and your parents were holding down the fort in Newark," she began, casting her mind back to the fateful day. "Jacob and Alec were in the midst of a full-blown prank war, and one of Alec's bright ideas was to unleash Bernie into their apartment."
"The nerve!" Bailey chimed in, shaking her head in mock disapproval as she shot her husband a playful glare.
"So, picture this: Sophia and I come back from a day of shopping, all excited to relax, and what do we find? A skunk – right there in their living room. We screamed bloody murder, and that fucking skunk farted right in our faces."
As Sabrina recounted the absurdity of the situation, a hush fell over the room, each person hanging on her every word. Alec struggled to contain his laughter, his hand pressed firmly over his mouth in a futile attempt to stifle the mirth bubbling within him. Bailey wore a hint of a smile, while Mason fought valiantly to maintain his composure, his eyes darting between his wife and his best friend as he tried not to crack.
Meanwhile, the younger members couldn't contain their laughter. Jayden buried his face in his girlfriend's neck, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter, while Gabrielle looked on, her attempts to suppress her own amusement failing miserably. Asher mirrored his twin's reaction, hiding his face in his hands as he struggled to contain his laughter, while Isaac's shoulders trembled with suppressed mirth.
"Mason Elijah Taylor, don't you dare laugh," Sabrina warned, shooting her husband a stern look, "or you'll be sleeping on the street tonight."
"M' not laughing," Mason protested weakly, though the telltale sparkle in his eyes betrayed him as he finally succumbed to laughter, his boisterous chuckles filling the room. Rising from his seat, he moved to embrace his wife, only to be met with a playful swat.
"Don't be mad, babe. You have to admit, it was funny."
"Your faces were priceless," Alec chimed in, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes, "I wish I had a camera to capture the moment."
"Well, before we all head off to bed, we stumbled upon some rather intriguing home tapes that I think you'd all enjoy watching. Especially you, Isaac. They were recorded by your parents."
Mason approached the television, his fingers deftly navigating the buttons until the screen flickered to life, revealing the grainy footage of the home video.
"Welcome to the Hargraves' first Christmas in Fairbrook," A cheerful voice echoed from the speakers, reminiscent of a television host as the image on the screen showcased a grand Christmas tree adorned with twinkling lights and shimmering ornaments. The camera then panned to reveal Jacob himself, a broad grin adorning his face. "This was all Sophia's idea. She thought it would be fun for us to document our first holiday here for posterity."
"Honey, where are you?" Sophia's voice called out from somewhere within the house.
The sound of their friend's voices, filled with warmth and laughter, brought tears to the eyes of the adults in the room. How long had it been since they had heard their voice?
"I'm recording, my love." The camera now captured Jacob's journey through the house until he reached the kitchen, where his wife stood wearing an apron, her hands busy with holiday preparations. "Say hello to the camera. Introduce yourself or something."
Sophia's smile lit up the screen as she turned her attention to the camera, her eyes shining with affection. "My name is Sophia, and I'm 25. I enjoy singing, and I have a very handsome son named Isaac."
"Hey, what about me?"
She rolled her eyes affectionately, "And the goofball behind the camera is my husband."
"Damn right I am," Jacob's voice rang out, the camera now propped up on a nearby surface as he stepped into the frame, planting a tender kiss on his wife's cheek. "I married the most beautiful woman in the world."
Isaac couldn't help but laugh at the sight of his father's outfit on the screen, "What the hell is my dad wearing?"
"I gave him that," Alec explained, giving his godson's shoulder a gentle squeeze, a nostalgic smile tugging at his lips. "We used to call him Wolf because of how much time he spent at the ice rink, so I thought it would be funny to get him a wolf onesie."
"Where's your son?" Sophia inquired, arching an eyebrow at her husband, a playful glint in her eyes.
"Why is he my son?" Jacob retorted with a snort, his tone laced with amusement. "You always pull out the 'he's your son' card when he gets into trouble. But when you catch him playing Romeo with Lucy, suddenly he's your son. I see how it is, Collins."
Isaac and Asher, who had been quietly watching the footage unfold, gasped at the name. The black-haired boy could sense the wheels turning in his brother's mind, his brow furrowed in concentration. Did he know who Lucy really was?
"But I believe he's out in the street with her."
The scene shifted, and the view changed to focus on a quaint street adorned with festive decorations. Two figures came into view—a boy with brown hair and a girl with reddish-brown locks, both sporting winter attire and roller skates.
"Hey there, buddy, how are those skating lessons going?"
"I'm teaching Luce how to skate, Dad," the younger version of Isaac responded proudly, his voice tinged with excitement holding hands with the girl beside him.
Jacob chuckled warmly, turning the camera to focus on himself. "Lucy is Isaac's best friend," he declared, before lowering his voice conspiratorially, "mark my words, these two will end up getting married."
Redirecting the camera, he posed another question. "Is he a good teacher, Lucy? You can be honest with me," he teased.
The girl's cheeks flushed pink as she glanced at her friend beside her, a shy smile gracing her lips. "The best," she replied softly, her words filled with warmth and admiration, causing Isaac's blush to deepen.
"You're blushing," Jayden teased, poking his best friend gently on the cheek as they watched the scene unfold on the television. His blue eyes sparkled mischievously. "Look at you, blushing like a schoolgirl. Bet you had half of Bellville Elementary swooning over you back then."
Isaac's cheeks flushed even deeper at the teasing, a shy smile tugging at his lips as he tried to deflect the attention. "Stop it."
"Isaac and Lucy, sitting in a tree, comes love, then comes marriage..."
Sabrina intervened, her tone firm as she silenced her son and nephew with a swift smack on the arm. "Enough. Behave yourselves and pay attention to the screen, or it's off to bed."
In the video, a five-year-old Isaac beamed at the camera with a megawatt smile, his eyes shining with youthful enthusiasm as he hugged Lucy. "I would never let you fall, Luce," he declared earnestly, his voice filled with unwavering confidence. "And you're doing great. When we go back to school, you can come ice skating with me."
"That's the spirit, son," Jacob chimed in, affectionately tousling his son's hair, "And when you're all tired out, your mother's got two cups of hot chocolate waiting for you inside."
Isaac and Lucy exchanged excited glances, their eyes alight with anticipation at the mention of hot chocolate. With a shared grin, they quickly removed their skates and dashed off towards the house.
As the video came to an end, Jacob's voice filled the room once more. "And that's all for today, folks. Merry Christmas," he announced warmly before the screen faded to black.
"You told Britt before me?" Santana shot an accusatory glare at her girlfriend. "Unfuckingbelievable."
"She figured it out herself," Quinn replied wearily, her voice tinged with exhaustion. "What do you want me to say, Santana? It's not something I'm proud of, okay?"
"So you're telling me that you've known Isaac since you were five years old, you were best friends, and you expect me to what? Throw a freaking party?"
The Latina's voice rose with indignation as she paced back and forth across the room, her footsteps echoing softly against the floor. "Does he know?" she inquired, gesturing towards the cardboard box that had sparked the conversation.
"He doesn't know yet. I still need to talk to him."
"He's in Fairbrook, Quinn. It's where you grew up. There must be pictures of you two somewhere in that fucking town. It won't take long for him to connect the dots."
"I changed my name, and my physical appearance changed too. He's not going to recognize me. We were just kids when he had the accident."
"Are you being serious right now?" Santana's disbelief was evident as she looked at her friend. "It didn't take me that long to figure out it was you. How long do you think it's going to take him? You have to tell him."
"And what do you want me to do?" she retorted bitterly, her voice laced with sarcasm. "Knock on his door and have his mother, who hates me, open it and say, 'Hey, Isaac, turns out I've been lying to you all this time. We used to be best friends when we were kids. Oh, and by the way, I've been in love with you all my life but haven't told you because I'm too scared to let anyone know who Lucy is.' Is that what you want me to do ?"
"What happened?" the dark-haired voice softened as she observed her best friend's defeated demeanor, "What happened to Lucy that made you become Quinn?"
"I met Isaac when he punched a boy for taking my that moment on, we were inseparable. But as you've seen, my physical appearance made me an easy target for ridicule and insults. They called me 'Lucy Caboosey,' especially the girls from Bellville. Isaac, on the other hand, was the popular kid—friends with everyone. I was lucky to be his best friend."
"They avoided insulting me when he wasn't around, but behind his back, they told me that I was a burden to him. They said if we stayed friends, I would only drag him down the social hierarchy," Quinn recounted, her voice wavering with emotion. "One day after gym class..." She paused, swallowing hard, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "The girls in my class, knowing Isaac was at the ice rink, waited for me to come out of the shower. They threw slushies at me, covering me from head to toe and leaving me completely humiliated."
"Oh, Quinn," Brittany embraced her friend tightly, her own eyes welling up with tears. "I'm so so sorry."
"I never told Isaac," he confessed, her fingers absently tracing the gold cross pendant hanging from her necklace. "This cross, the jersey, the gardenia—Isaac gave them to me the summer of the accident. It wasn't until two days later that I heard what had happened."
"You were just a little girl. None of it was your fault."
"I was angry, you know?" Quinn chuckled ruefully through her tears. "I thought he'd come back to Fairbrook, but when he didn't, I was angry with him. I felt like he'd broken his promise to return. What I didn't know was that he'd lost his memory. That same summer, my father got a job offer in Lima. I saw it as a chance to escape from everything. I asked my parents to call me Quinn, dyed my hair blonde, lost weight, got a nose job... and here I am."
"If those slushies hurt you so much, why... why do you do it too?" Santana's voice was gentle yet probing, her dark eyes searching her friend's troubled gaze. "I'm not judging you—I've done it too, and I'm not proud of it. I'm just trying to understand you."
"I know it sounds like a cheap excuse, but I promised myself I would never be weak again. I asked Frannie to help me lose weight. She had been a cheerleader, and I'd always admired her for it. I became obsessed with popularity, and I decided not to stop until I reached the top. When Coach Sylvester offered me the position of Head Cheerleader, I accepted without hesitation," she confessed, a self-deprecating smile gracing her lips. "I had achieved everything I'd ever wanted. Then Finn arrived, star quarterback and Head Cheerleader. Just like in the movies."
"It wasn't your brightest idea," Brittany chimed in softly, her blue eyes twinkling with a mixture of amusement and understanding.
"No, it wasn't. But it was what everyone expected. Seeing Isaac in that game made my world turn upside down. Even though I knew I had changed, I hoped he would at least recognize me,"
"Hang on, wasn't that the night you slept with Puck?"
Quinn's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she nodded. "Yes," she admitted guiltily. "I'm not proud of it. And I would have done it again if Isaac hadn't intervened."
"So, what are you going to do now?"
"What do you mean?"
"What do you mean 'what do I mean?" Brittany mimicked her tone. "At the wedding, you told me that you liked him. You said that if the thing that was holding you back didn't exist right now, you would be happily dating Isaac."
"But Lucy exists," Quinn insisted, furrowing her brow. "Isaac is in love with Quinn, not Lucy. It's not the same, Britt."
"I can't believe I'm saying this," Santana interjected, rolling her eyes dramatically, "but Britt's got a point. You've gotta do something, Quinn. For crying out loud, don't give me that look. That boy gave you a gardenia when he was 12. Now he's 16, and he was close to buying you the rose version of the gardenia," she pointed out. "Hate to admit it, but that boy would jump through hoops if you asked him to. And as much as I enjoy the whole bitchy, backstabbing version of you that would throw me under the bus at any given opportunity, I liked you better when Isaac came into your life."
Brittany nodded in agreement at her girlfriend's words.
"You became... I don't know, more human. More open, more tolerant. Brit and I are your best friends, and half the time, we don't even know what's going on in that head of yours. Isaac brought out a side of you that we hadn't seen before. Even the Glee Club noticed the change. You smiled more, and you weren't as quick to throw slushies. I want that Quinn back. And I think I speak for Britt and myself when I say you need to do something about it before some other girl swoops in and steals him away from you."
"Oh, Santana, I knew deep down you loved me," Without hesitation, Quinn threw herself into hugging her, who squirmed in her embrace, attempting to wriggle free.
"Fabray, let me go, or I swear I'll slap you," Santana threatened, her voice half muffled by the embrace. "Seriously, let me go, bitch."
Lying in his childhood bed, Isaac gazed intently at the photo Grace had given him, the soft glow from the moon filtering through the curtains casting a gentle light on his features. Who was that girl in the photo, and why did she seem so familiar?
Lost in contemplation, he was jolted from his reverie by the familiar sound of a notification, signaling the arrival of a message on his phone. Sitting up slightly, he glanced at the nightstand to check the time.
3:30 am.
Curiosity piqued, he reached for his phone, which lay charging beside him, wondering who could possibly be sending him a message at such an ungodly hour. Unlocking it, his brows furrowing as he scanned the sender's name.
"We need to talk."
Isaac couldn't help but chuckle softly. "Fabray, it's 3:30 am. What are you doing up?" he replied, his fingers tapping out the words on the screen.
"You're awake too," came her accusing response.
"I'm not in Columbus, I'm in Fairbrook," he confessed, adding a sad face emoji to convey his feelings.
As he waited for Quinn's response, his thoughts drifted back to the gradual rekindling of their friendship. Their communication had started tentatively, with brief exchanges of "good morning" and "good night," but over time, they had gradually slipped back into their old dynamic. It was a comforting feeling, one that filled his chest with warmth and nostalgia. He missed talking to her, missed the easy banter they once shared.
Another notification chime. With a quick swipe, he opened the app and read her message.
"When are you coming back?"
"Why? Missing me?" With a mischievous smirk, he added a wink emoji, waiting to see how she would react.
"I have to talk to you and it's important, I would prefer to do it in person," Quinn's message came through, her words carrying a weight that made Isaac sit up straighter in bed.
"I'll be back the day after tomorrow."
"Can we meet then? Preferably somewhere other than Lima or Columbus, your mother hates me and she won't be happy to see you with me."
"My mother doesn't hate you."
"She does.I promised you a date and then I broke your heart on the same day and threw a slushie at you."
Isaac let out a frustrated sigh, his eyes narrowing as he read her message. Quinn's tendency to view things in extremes often grated on his nerves "You're being dramatic." he shot back.
They had argued when Kurt had revealed the truth behind the slushie incident, their words laced with hurt and frustration, and in the aftermath, a silence had settled between. For two weeks, they hadn't spoken—a mix of anger and disappointment on his part and guilt on hers.
After a long conversation with his Aunt Sue, during which she offered some sage advice and perhaps a bit of meddling, the slushie machine had mysteriously disappeared from the school cafeteria.
"Better safe than sorry. Do you know any place where we can meet without anyone suspecting anything?"
"Is this your way of asking me out on a date, Fabray? Am I being courted?" he typed, a grin spreading across his face as he sent the message.
Quinn's response came swiftly, devoid of any hint of humor. "Isaac, focus," she wrote, punctuating her words with two eye-rolling emojis.
"I'll ask Charlotte if she knows anywhere near Carmel and I'll text you the address."
Time to test if you're jealous, Miss Fabray, he mused. He chuckled as he observed the momentary offline status that appeared below Quinn's contact, followed by the brisk 'ok' that popped up on his screen.
"Don't be jealous, Fabray. She's just a friend."
"Isn't it a little early for your ego to make an appearance, Hargrave?"
"Admit it, you like it," he teased, a mischievous grin forming on his lips as he awaited her reply but she didn't take the bait.
"So, see you the day after tomorrow?"
"Yes," he confirmed, a sense of anticipation building within him. "And, Fabray…it's a date."
With a satisfied smile, Isaac closed his phone, feeling a warmth spreading through him as he drifted off to sleep, thoughts of Quinn swirling in his mind.