Quinn Fabray. Captain of the school’s lacrosse team. Proud Christian. Family oriented. Little miss popular.
“Psst, can you pass me your test?”
“Brittany, for the last time, you have to do this test yourself”
Quinn Fabray. Doesn't like tests. At all. Or sitting here in this stuffy room that only had cheap fans that actually circled the hot air around the room instead of making it cool. And she hated it. Her uniform stuck to her like glue and sweat was beating down her forehead. She felt sick. And she was sick of this place.
“But I don’t know what’s going on…”
“I don’t care”
Quinn Fabray. Really and sick of tired of life. And being here. And being her.
“Miss?” she shot her arm into the air, feeling her blouse literally glue onto her arm. She cringed. “May I be excused to the bathroom?”
“Well you would have to hand in your exam,” she rose from her chair and neatly placed it down onto her desk. "You're not going to be able to do it again Miss Fabray."
“That’s alright Miss. Thank you.”
One positive about this school was the lack of hall passes. Because every girl is absolutely angelic and can be trusted. Until they break any rule. Then they’re screwed for the next few years.
But Quinn Fabray is not that girl. She is perfect. And she’s the poster child for what every parent wanted.
She lowered the toilet seat and sat down. At least it was cooler in here. It was cleaner than you’d expect. She attended a prestigious private school, which meant that they had cleaners that could actually do their jobs.
So this was going to be harder than anything she had ever done.
She clicked open the marker in her hand, hearing it echo slightly in her cubicle. And then she pressed her palm up against the smooth wall, feeling how cool it was.
Quinn Fabray. Secret rebel. A girl with regrets. Unintentionally sins. Probably, maybe closeted lesbian.
The letter I is feminine yet bold on the pure white walls. And that’s when she realised that she actually broke the rules for the first time in her life. But there was no going back now.
So she wrote along the back of the cubicle door, her words just messy enough to not look like her own writing. She proceeded to end it with a large exclamation point.
I’m fucking gay. Deal with it
And that was the first time Quinn Fabray ever came out.
“Gross. This uniform is freaking ugly, and I’m sick of wearing these colours,” Santana complains, her fingers picking at the fabric of the plaided skirt.
“Same. I just want to wear our lacrosse uniforms,” Brittany adds.
“But we need to follow the school rules, remember?” Quinn reminds, her voice sounding borderline patronising.
They’re at assembly, which happened exactly at 10:00AM every morning. It’s for morning readings of the bible, worship, prayers and the school choir to sing some biblical melody. Quinn’s anticipation soon grew thin for these morning routines. Mostly because the songs were boring and there was no way that she could get away with sleeping through it all.
The bible felt heavy on her lap. Carrying out that big ass book was getting tiring, but at least on the bright side it gave her muscular arms? Quinn was grasping at straws at this point. She flipped through the pages and followed the read out passages with her eyes, barely paying attention. She wondered when she grew tired of all of this. Of all the religion and all the praying.
And then she heard the usual death march fill the air. The piano started, a few keys too old, and the choir began to sing. She listened to all the newer students fall out of pitch, and she cringed at it.
And then there’s that one angelic voice.
Rachel Berry. Sadly a talented singer. Hated by lacrosse players. Probably going to be a 40 year old virgin.
Mostly because she can’t stop singing every single moment of the day. Mostly old musicals that Quinn hates. And she had this voice that makes her sound so perky but cocky and it got on her nerves.
She groaned into her hand when she started singing passionately. Like always. Closing her eyes and swinging into the melody like some idiot. She gestured wildly and looked like she's pleading.
Quinn heard Santana and Brittany crack up beside her. And they exchanged small mischievous grins with each other as they sat back and watched the song unfold.
God, there were some pluses from being at this school; it meant that Quinn could easily sit on top of the social hierarchy and get away with most things. Like making fun of people. She loved feeling like she was at the top. It meant something to her. More than it maybe should.
Quinn Fabray. Top bitch.
She grinned to herself. She could get away with anything.