Content Warning: This fanfiction contains mentions, actions, and dialogue related to depression, suicide, suicide attempts, self-harm, self-worth/image issues, and behaviors of eating disorders. Reader discretion is advised.
Two weeks later...
Quinn, in Mr. DeMartino's class, rested her head meekly. She could care less for Mr. DeMartino's lessons, let alone school in general. She had eventually taken a longing kip. Though, she felt as if she didn't deserve it - if it faded all other distractions from her; the voices, self-harm, her friends and family, school... she didn't mind, actually.
Mr. DeMartino rose his voice in an abrupt manner pointedly, towards Quinn who had doze off gingerly. "Miss Morgendorffer would you be WILLING to tell me the answer!?"
Quinn's head remained in its same position, her chest rising up and down. She seemed unbothered, for a moment. The ear-splitting tone of Mr. DeMartino making Quinn's head sweep upwards. She hadn't heard a thing he had said, but whatever he said had her name in it. Her expression panicked, as if she had woken up on a train track.
"..Yes?" Quinn cheeped, uneasy. She looked around at her peers, some looked back nonchalantly, others like Sandi Griffin stared in disbelief; trying to hide their laughter.
"Forget it Quinn, it DOESN'T matter anymore. Since it seems that YOU have no AWARENESS of your own surroundings!" Mr. DeMartino yelled in response. He glanced around the room, his eyes spotting Sandi.
"Sandi, do YOU happen to know the answer?" Mr. DeMartino queried. He begged that she knew the answer, but unfortunately for him, she did not know. Sandi had been too focused on Quinn's embarrassment, as if she ever paid attention in class in general.
Wow, what a failure you are. Can't believe you didn't know the answer. Of course you didn't. You're so stupid. It's absolutely hysterical. I feel bad for Mr. DeMartino. How can a freshmen not know the answer to such a basic question? What a bitch-ass answer.
Sandi stared at Mr. DeMartino blankly. She blinked multiple times. Sandi eventually muttered, "Um..." glaring around her peers, hoping someone would answer for her. No one did. They all stared at her demandingly. Like she was supposed to know.
Quinn lowered her head once again. Her eyes barely open, she fell asleep. She really needed it after the events of last night, even if it was at the most an hour. As Tiffany looked at Quinn, her expression was the usual. She then looked up at Mr. DeMartino, blindly asking, "Teacher... does this hair clip make me look fat?"
"No, Tiffany! Why would you ask SUCH a dumb question!? For the 6th time THIS week, it does not! What you could do IS encourage your dear friend, Sandi Griffin!" Mr. DeMartino growled, pinching the bridge of his nose as he sighed. Why did he have such morons for students!? Excluding Daria Morgendorffer and Jodie Landon.
Class slowly came to an end. Though the occasional Quinn jerked her head up, thinking someone was talking to her that was it. Sandi stood up walking out, hissing sharply, "Tiffany, dear, come along." like Tiffany was a stray dog. Tiffany adjusted her new pink Hello KItty clip Stacy purchased for her at Cashman's, following along with Sandi's instructions faithfully, as she always did. No hesitancy, not even bothering to check if Quinn was awake. If Tiffany had something in that brain of hers besides her self-consciousness, she would have looked back to see if the two other less-confident members were walking behind them.
Stacy sat up, a chipper grin plastered. She glanced over to Quinn, tapping the redhead's shoulder. "Quinn?" Stacy asked, her inner eyebrows drew upwards as an apprehensive frown creased her plumpy lips. She only wanted the best for Quinn. Even if she was often jumpy and was always worried, she was probably the sweetest person Quinn Morgendorffer had known.
Quinn's head raised up, her eyes darting around the almost quiet room, facing Stacy. "Hm?" Quinn squeaked. She had no idea what was going on, but after a few glances around the room Quinn had already gotten the idea; class was over and the school hours had reached their end.
Quinn stumbled impulsively out of her seat, reaching for Stacy's hand like her life depended on it. "You looked zoned out, Quinn... Not that you did before - it's just I noticed it a bit!" Stacy hung her head low, clasping Quinn's cold hand in hers. The girls walked out of the room.
While they did, Mr. DeMartino watched. Something was off with Quinn, well there always was - whether one of her air-headed friends' had been wearing mismatching clothes or a bare strand of hair was sticking out. It was always something. But today in particular, she seemed off. Sleeping in class? Even Sandi didn't do that! OR Tiffany.
I can't believe you slept through the whole lesson. You have once again proven your shame upon Lawndale. Your friend was so kind to be concerned for you... she shouldn't have. She has no right to be. You're just a waste of space. Ruining everything. Making your 'cousin' and the rest of your family miserable. You are the only one to blame. Stop acting all innocently, looking around as if you didn't know your intentions. It doesn't take that long to realize fundamental facts, you moron.
Stacy and Quinn went off to Stacy's locker. Stacy began swiveling the knob of her locker. Once it opened after a few tries, she began storing her essential items for school in her locker, taking grasp of her backpack.
Quinn stared at Stacy intently, in a somewhat admiration. Stacy always did things right - after a try or two. She had no problems on her mind; besides her friends' problems... well at least Quinn thought. But really, Stacy worried about everything. How she actually was doing well on her assignments - though, she kept it a secret out of fear that Sandi would find out and verbally tyrannize the poor girl as she always did.
Like the past week when Sandi wasn't at school, because had to go on some trip, according to Sandi she was forced to go by her mother. By this happening, it gave Stacy a chance to prove her intelligence, despite it not being very well known. Everyone was shocked, especially Mr. O'Neill. Quinn had asked Stacy about it, but she simply brushed it off and pleaded that Quinn wouldn't tell Sandi.
Stacy flung her backpack over her shoulders, smiling at Quinn. The two stood there, Quinn's face expressionless. She had no reason to feel any happiness since the incident. Besides the existence of Stacy of course. That made her feel the slightest bit of happiness. Just to know that someone really cared for her made her want to attend school.
"You should probably get to your locker, Quinn," Stacy propounded, her eyes prancing around the building for Sandi and Tiffany. They had probably gone off to the bathroom. Just so Sandi could admonish Tiffany that she wouldn't look fat in anything or with anyone; for the sake of the Asian girl, she was perfect the way she was. Well… not perfect, not as outstanding as Sandi, at least in the eyes of the president of The Fashion Club's narcissistic mentality.
Quinn nodded swiftly, approaching her locker at a slow pace. Stacy followed behind submissively; similar to how Tiffany did with Sandi. Quinn, clearly unfocused, struggled to open her locker. It was just a stupid locker! Why couldn't she open it? Was it because of her sweaty palms? The ridiculous voice in her head disapproving of everything she did; who was probably doing that right now? Well, whatever it was Stacy had seen through it.
"Let me help, Quinn," Stacy urged to help her best friend, remembering Quinn's combination code. After opening the locker with ease, she stood promptly.
"Oh, Stacy, you didn't have to—" Quinn commenced prudently, grabbing her backpack and returning her binder in its original selection. She closed the locker, facing Stacy.
"Quinn! I'm sorry! I didn't know I wasn't supposed to—it just looked as if you were having a hard time! Please forgive me, Quinn!" Stacy's expression had shifted to immediate worry. She grasped Quinn's sweaty palms, her body fidgety.
"It's fine, don't worry…" Quinn spurned Stacy's anxiety nonchalantly. Quinn slided her backpack over both shoulders, Sandi and Tiffany striding up to them.
"Hello, Stacy and Quinn," Sandi accosted the girls. "It seems to be that you are discussing something—may I know, does it involve me at all?"
Stacy's hands removed themselves automatically from Quinn's when she heard Sandi's swagger intonation. Stacy stared at Sandi wide-eyed, returning to her silent yet obedient attitude towards Sandi; similar to how she behaved with Quinn, but instead Stacy was genuine towards Quinn, and faked her apologetic attitude with Sandi.
"Hi, Sandi," Stacy squeaked nervously, fidgeting with her hands.
"Well, Quinn, do you perhaps know the answer to the question? It seems you didn't last time," Sandi demeaned, mentioning the previous interaction with Mr. DeMartino specifically.
Quinn stood in silence, glaring at Sandi with absolutely no remorse. She had nothing to say. Quinn was fed up with this faux attitude she played whenever she was around Sandi. She felt bad when Stacy apologized over and over again, but that is just how Stacy was. She even had some contrition for Tiffany Blum-Deckler of all people.
"I guess I have my answer," Sandi promulgated candidly. "Anyway, we will ALL be meeting up at Cashman's during 4:00 P.M. No exceptions. Unless there is someone who would like to protest?"
"Okay," Quinn nodded solemnly.
"Good," Sandi smirked. She had directed her comment towards Quinn, who for the most part had been avoiding The Fashion Club, barely paying attention to anything, and overall was lacking her participation as the Vice President of The Fashion Club.
Stacy simply simpered, having nothing to say but still excited that she would get the possibility of hanging out with Quinn Morgendorffer after school. The thought just made the braided girl grin ingratiatingly.
"I… looove Cashman'sss…" Tiffany drawled. It was hard to tell if she was jubilant or just thinking of something out of the blue to please Sandi.
Sandi placed her hands on her hips proudly, walking off to the scorching heat of Lawndale. Tiffany tailed along behind Sandi, needing a ride home. Quinn and Stacy exchanged a quick embrace and both left for their homes.
You never fail to disappoint me. Once again ruining everything. Piece of shit. Piece of shit. Piece of shit.
Quinn saw Daria walking in front of her, but not even caring enough to scold her older sister for following her home. She faced the pavement, sweat dripping down her forehead. When she reached the Morgendorffer house, Daria glared at Quinn in curiosity.
"What? Don't tell me you've joined a gang," Daria deadpanned.
"Shut up, Daria…" Quinn purred despondently, her feet dreading their way into the house. Daria followed behind.
"Oh, I see, some guy rejected you and now you're getting all angsty? Way to go, Quinn," Daria quipped, trying to get Quinn to her limit as she always did.
Quinn's eyes bulged, turning her body to stare at Daria in disbelief.
"How do you know!?" Quinn screamed for the first time in two whole weeks.
Daria's eyes widened slightly behind her glasses, her usual deadpan expression faltering for a moment. She took a small step back, caught off guard by Quinn's abrupt outburst.
"Know what?" Daria asked, slight concern seeping through her typically monotone voice. She studied Quinn's face, trying to figure out what had prompted such an intense reaction from her usually fashion-obsessed sister.
Worry flashed through Daria's mind, imagining the worst. What ticked her off now?
Quinn proceeded to bolt up the stairs in fear. Who told Daria!? It was Sandi! That scrawny little—Oh forget it…
You aren't a victim. Your attempts at acting innocent are hilarious. That girl doesn't care about you. She probably cried the day you were born. You are overdramatic. What a drama queen.
Quinn blenched at the nasty comment the voice told her. It was no different than the previous. She slammed her door, trembling over towards her bed as she plopped down on the soft pillow face-first.
Daria stood at the bottom of the stairs, her mind racing. What did I say this time? She adjusted her glasses, a rare flicker of concern crossing her usually stoic face. Did I really push her that far?
Standing there for a moment, Daria decided to see what was wrong with her sister. She climbed the stairs reluctantly, each step feeling heavier than the last. When she reached the door of Quinn's unusually silent room, she hesitated before knocking.
"Quinn?" Daria called out, her voice softer than usual. "Can we talk?"
Inside, Quinn laid still, her face buried in the pillow. She didn't respond, hoping Daria would just go away. That is all she wanted. To push her loved ones away, but she still yearned for their attention. It was complicated. Daria, sensing something obviously off, opened the door a little and peered in.
"Quinn, I'm sorry if I said something that upset you," Daria said, her tone sincere. "I didn't mean to."
Quinn turned her head slightly, her eyes red and tumid from sobbing. "Just leave me alone, Daria," she muttered, her voice strained.
Daria stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. She sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to get too close. "Look, I know I can be a pain sometimes, but I'm here if you need to talk. Really."
Quinn sniffled, her tears gently drying up. "Why do you care?" she asked, her voice trembling. "Don't you have to like hang out with Jane or whatever?"
"Because you're my sister," Daria replied reassuringly. "And despite it all, I do care about you."
Quinn stared at Daria, her expression skeptical. "You do?"
"Yeah, I do," Daria responded, her deadpan expression not shifting in the slightest. "So, if you ever want to talk… you can."
For a moment, the room grew silent. Momentarily, Quinn nodded at a slow pace. "Thanks, Daria," she whispered.
Daria stood up, giving Quinn one last glimpse of hope, before heading towards the door. "Don't count on it," she teased, before quietly leaving the room. She smiled to herself gently, walking to her room.
The time had reached 4:00 P.M. The time she had been petrified of. She wanted to avoid it, but it was going to come sooner or later. Quinn heard the clamorous beep of no other than Sandi Griffin's car. Quinn sighed, walking slowly down the stairs.
Sandi reached the door walking along with Stacy and Tiffany as she knocked. Sandi's arrival had completely blighted Quinn's day; even if she already knew it was going to happen.
"I have to go, Eric, I don't know when I'll get back to you…" Helen spoke exasperatedly, hanging up as she heard the noisy beep of Sandi's car. She walked up to the door, Quinn also doing the same.
"Hi girls. What are you doing here?" Helen asked in the politest tone she could muster.
"Oh, we're waiting for—" Stacy began, but was cut off by Quinn's appearance.
"Bye, Mom," Quinn mumbled, beginning to follow her friends.
Helen grabbed Quinn's arm, staring her daughter down as she examined the scars, not being able to tell if they were self-implemented. "Quinn, what's all this?"
"None of your business!" Quinn roared, stomping off to follow her friends. Mom was only making things worse…
Helen closed the door, looking for someone or something to distract herself from the thought of Quinn getting into a fight.
Quinn entered the vehicle in reluctance. Why did she agree? This would be a complete nightmare… Ew!
"Alright girls. Let's get on the road," Sandi started up the car, and drove off to Cashman's.
At the mall…
The Fashion Club arrived at Cashmans', their favorite mall. It had everything. And also was the closest.
The girls entered, reaching the food court. The scent of greasy burgers and Ultra Cola filling the area. Stacy looked around in fascination.
"Over here," Sandi ordered, pointing towards a table that rested near a window. "That'll be the perfect area for us to sit so we can seen."
Quinn couldn't help but feel out of place. Ever since the rejection… Was she really the one to blame here? She already knew the answer.
As they settled into their seats, Quinn forced a smile. She fidgeted with her fingers anxiously. Tiffany looked at herself in her compact mirror in adoration. While Stacy and Sandi squinted, reading the options near the counter. The healthy picks at least. The breezy air cooled the girls while they sat.
"Doesss…myyy…jawww…lookkk… fat… in this… mirrorrr?" Tiffany asked Sandi in her slow tone.
"No, Tiffany. Can you quiet it down two notches so the rest of us can find out what we'd like to order?"
Tiffany nodded, growing quiet.
"I love their milkshakes! We should get the vanilla ones! I know you like those, Quinn," Stacy chirped to Quinn.
"Maybe," Quinn responded, looking back at Stacy.
"I think we should be focused… Stacy and Quinn!" Sandi interrupted abruptly. "Speaking of Quinn… you, Miss Morgendorffer have been very absent in anything Fashion Club related."
"I've been busy…" Quinn's stomach dropped, her voice hardly above a whisper.
"Or maybe you are just avoiding us to participate in certain activities that I am unaware of?" Sandi smirked.
Quinn's eyes widened. Does she really know!? Quinn took a quick glance towards Stacy, who looked worried but refused to speak up out of fear.
"Oww… the lighttt… it hurtsss…" Tiffany chimed in.
"Tiffany, we are trying to discuss something important regarding our Vice President," Sandi then faced Quinn. "You know, this whole avoiding us thing is most certainly not a good look as our Vice President."
Quinn nodded silently.
"Maybe we should start ordering…" Stacy finally spoke up.
"Stacy!" Sandi glared.
Stacy looked back cowardly. "Eep!"
While the conversation continued, Quinn's thoughts did as well but in a more dangerous direction. I can't keep on pretending everything is fine… They don't know what I'm going through. They just wouldn't understand, especially Sandi.
After a half hour the girls had ordered some time ago and a waiter came with their food. Stacy and Tiffany ate their food hesitantly. Not wanting to eat too much before Sandi had something to say.
As Sandi sipped her Diet Ultra Cola her eyes still on Quinn. Quinn forked at her small salad, the meal and others before looking so gross and unappetizing. Well, anything from fast-food chains always did, but now even healthy things like salad and diet soda did. She hadn't eaten any of her salad.
"Not hungry, Quinn?" Sandi quirked an eyebrow.
"...Nothing you need to worry about," Quinn looked up.
"Oh, what was that? Suit yourself, Quinn." Sandi shrugged nonchalantly. "But it would be appreciated if you could get your act together. No one wants a distracted Vice President."
Quinn continued to glare at the food menacingly, like it was some sick villain. She felt the dark voice grow louder. You are a failure. You don't belong here. Throw that out, you don't deserve it at all after everything you have done.
Quinn proceeded to push her chair in and stand up, a slight headache growing. "I'm gonna go…" Quinn shakily announced, running off.
"Wait, Quinn!" Stacy called out, dashing after Quinn.