Staring down at the slender plastic stick with disbelief, Quinn collapsed on the bathroom floor in tears. After crying herself out, Quinn shoved the stick back in the box and took it to her room. Realizing her super Catholic parents would disown her if they found out, she wrapped the box in an old T-shirt and stuffed it in the bottom of her backpack to throw away at school the next morning. While she was pacing, Quinn heard a knock at her door. As the door opened, it revealed Judy Fabray standing there as the picture perfect wife. Given her recent development, Quinn's guilt tripled. Stepping closer to her trembling daughter, Judy cupped Quinn's cheek and asked, "What's wrong, baby?"
Leaning into her mother's touch, tears spilled down her face. Biting her lip, Quinn shook her head, hoping her mother wouldn't make her confess. Noticing her daughter's struggle, Judy pulled her close. Quinn grabbed the back of her mother's blouse as she sobbed into her shoulder. Cradling her daughter, Judy reassured, "Shh, baby, everything is going to be okay. I love you."
Once she got Quinn to calm down, Judy led her daughter to her bed and tucked her in just like when Quinn was younger. Brushing the hair out of Quinn's face, she kissed her forehead and wished her goodnight. Though she still felt guilty, overwhelmed, and nauseous, Quinn fell asleep rather quickly.
Walking down the hallway the next day, Quinn's face didn't exude confidence and superiority like it usually did. Instead of staring down anyone in her way, Quinn held her binder tight to her chest and stared at her shoes. She was so lost in her head, she almost ran into Rachel when the brunette stepped into her path. Sighing heavily, Quinn asked, "What do you want, Rachel?"
If the uncertainty in the way she entered the school didn't tip her off that something was wrong with Quinn, the use of her first name from the normally icy blonde would have. Trying to keep the surprise off her face lest she anger the subdued blonde, Rachel answered, "I couldn't help but notice that you don't seem like your naturally confident self this morning, and I was wondering if I could do anything to help."
Staring into the face of the girl she had tormented for over a year with cruel words and endless slushies, Quinn wonders how this petite brunette can show her compassion, and she shatters. Before letting the blonde totally destroy her reputation, Rachel grabs her wrist and drags her into the nearly always abandoned bathroom that she uses to clean herself up from her showers of frozen corn syrup and food coloring. Once inside, Rachel shuts and locks the door before pulling Quinn into a firm, comforting embrace. While stroking her hair, Rachel asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"
Taking a few deep, calming breaths, Quinn stands up and unconsciously fiddles with her crucifix before admitting shakily, "I'm pregnant."
Once she pick her jaw off the floor, Rachel reached out to rub the scared blonde's arm and asked, "Are you sure? Many women mistake their symptoms for pregnancy and..."
"I'm sure, Rachel. I missed my period, so I took a test to confirm it. My parents are going to kill me!" Quinn sobbed.
Hugging her again, Rachel asked, "Does Finn know?"
Pulling away confused, Quinn asked, "Finn? Why would he know?"
"Isn't it his child? He should be informed, so the two of you can make and educa..."
"It's not Finn's. We've never had sex," Quinn whispered as she pulled away from the brunette and drew into herself. "It's Puck's, and before you ask, no, he doesn't know. I only found out myself last night. My life is over! My parents are going to hate me. Finn is going to hate me. Santana is going to hate me. I'll be kicked off the Cheerios. What am I going to do?"
"Slow down. Why don't you start from the beginning, and we'll work our way from there," Rachel suggested.
Letting out a deep breath, Quinn leaned against the wall and began, "I was having a bad day. I had gained two pounds, so Coach was on my back. You and Finn were getting closer, and he is always useless when it comes to comforting me, anyway. I was walking down the hall, when Puck gave me that look he does when he's really turned on. I felt fat, and he still thought I was attractive. Anyway, he invited me back to his place. We started with just making out. Honestly, it was innocent. Then, he tried to put his hand up my skirt, but I was uncomfortable, so I pushed him away. He pulled out some wine coolers to 'help me relax.' I had about four, and he had a couple of beers. Those feelings of being ugly and unwanted just kept getting worse. When he tried to pull my skirt off, I tried to tell him it was a bad idea. He handed me another wine cooler and told me to chill. I finally just gave up. It hurt, Rachel. He didn't even seem to notice."
Slowly stepping closer to the crying blonde while trying to keep her own tears at bay, Rachel lifted Quinn's chin, brushed her tears away, and whispered cautiously, "Quinn, it sounds like you were raped."
Eyes growing wide with fear, Quinn whispered back, "No no no. I...I can't. No. Please, Rachel tell me that's not true."
Still cradling the taller girl's face, she gently replied, "You were feeling vulnerable. You refused his advances at first. He plied you with alcohol until you did what he wanted. You had significantly more alcohol in your system than he did. He took advantage of you, Quinn. I'm so sorry."
At this, both girls let go and started sobbing. Quinn buried her face in Rachel's neck and held on tight. Still trying to offer some support, Rachel rubbed her hands up and down Quinn's back as she rested her head on top of the blonde's as she let her tears fall silently. After a half hour, the girls heard loud banging on the door. Quinn jumped and hid behind Rachel. Before either of them could utter a syllable, a familiar, stern voice was heard, "If you hormone filled bags of disappointment are doing what I think you're doing in there. I will personally call your parents to inform them you have been expelled."
Gathering whatever shreds of confidence she still had, Quinn unlocked and opened the door to reveal an angry Coach Sylvester.