Chapter 1

I don't even recognize myself in the mirror. Lucy is gone and the only familiar feature are the sad hazel eyes staring back at me. My newly dyed blonde hair is pulled back into a tight ponytail and my eyes look brighter without clunky glasses covering them. Frannie helped me with my makeup although I don't understand why I need to wear it to a cheerleading tryout where I'm going to sweat it off anyway. But Frannie insisted and considering she was the captain of her own cheerleading squad in high school, I reluctantly agree.

Even my clothes have changed. There's no longer a need for baggy sweaters to cover my embarrassing rolls. I'm in a black sports bra and I can actually see my abs reflecting back in the mirror. Working out all summer has led up to this moment. Next week I'll start high school at McKinley as Quinn Fabray and I'm determined to enter those halls as a Cheerio.

I stand in the back of the crowd of girls on the middle of the football field. They all seem to know each other and I am the outcast. Fortunately, this isn't a new feeling for me because I've never quite fit in. But the looks I'm getting are much different than the ones I had gotten as Lucy. They take in my fit figure and even seem a little intimidated by my perfect posture and emotionless expression, another feature I mastered while being bullied for the last ten years of my life.

Sue Sylvester is a terrifying woman. The other girls seem familiar with her from their years as junior Cheerios and from watching their older sisters cheer. Coach was screaming into a megaphone even though we were only mere feet away from her and I willed myself to stand like a statue, refusing to wince away from her screams.

Most of the other girls winced and stumbled back away from her, but I was determined to not move. Coach Sylvester stared right into my eyes and I didn't break the gaze, even though I could feel the beads of sweat dripping down my face from the stress.

"What's your name, blondie?" she barked at me a few minutes later and I didn't hesitate in my response. It was the first time someone had asked me to introduce myself since I changed.

"I'm Quinn. Quinn Fabray."

"Well, Fabray, let's see what you've got." And then my career as a Cheerio began. If I had been paying more attention, I would have noticed the tan girl with long, dark hair standing to my right, looking furious and impressed all at once.

Tryouts were grueling. I came home every afternoon and forced myself to eat something and shower before I passed out across my bed. All of my focus was on becoming a Cheerio. Junior Varsity wasn't even an option. If I was going to reinvent myself, it was going to take more than a well-performed nose job, weight loss, and a pair of contact lenses. I needed instant popularity and that meant making the Varsity squad as a freshman.

On the fifth and final day of tryouts, I was the first person on the football field. I popped my headphones into my ears and let Florence and the Machine flow through me as I stretched my sore muscles. My eyes were closed as I reached for my toes and I jumped when someone pulled the ear bud from my ear.

"Good taste, Fabray." The voice was stiff, taunting. I felt my insecurities from being Lucy creep right back into me. I had to remind myself that I was no longer that scared, unpopular girl.

"And who are you to have any opinion anyway?" I replied snarkily. Years of being a Fabray was proving helpful, even though I had always tried to not succumb to intimidation like the rest of my family.

"Santana Lopez. Head junior Cheerio and top bitch of the freshman class."

"Well, enjoy it while it lasts because there's going to be a new person on top before you can even get your Cheerio uniform on." I was amazed by myself. Frannie's training obviously went deeper than my intense makeover.

"I was hoping you would say that," replied Santana with a sly grin. She walked back towards her duffel bag and sat down to tie her sneakers, sitting very close to a tall blonde girl that I knew was named Brittany. I was intrigued by this Santana girl. I wanted to know her.

My mom squealed with delight and grabbed her camera when I appeared at the bottom of the staircase on my first day of school. My hair was in a perfect high ponytail and I had curled it so that it bounced against my shoulder. The tight red polyester top of my Varsity Cheerio uniform hugged my new slim body and the short skirt flounced playfully on my thighs, the pleats leaving little to the imagination.

"Luc – I mean Quinnie, I'm so proud of you," she said, taking my picture as I propped my hands on my hips in a power stance. I bent down and tied my brand new white tennis shoes before grabbing the red and white backpack from the foyer and headed out to the bus stop.

There were only two other people at the stop: a tall, lanky boy that looked terrified and Santana Lopez, who was also wearing her Cheerio uniform. Only the two of us and Brittany had made Varsity from the freshman class.

"I didn't know you lived in this part of town, Fabray," she said conversationally, obviously interested since we lived in the nicest part of Lima and had only moved in at the beginning of the summer.

"Only moved here a few months ago, I lived a couple of towns over before." I was being nicer than I had been the other morning on the football field.

The bus pulled up and I let the boy and Santana get on first. I didn't know if I should try to sit with her. I had never had anybody to sit with on the bus before, so usually I sat by myself and read a book.

"Yo, Fabray! Back here!" Santana called from near the back of the bus. I smiled, but soon settled my face in indifference, pretending like I was used to being invited to hang out with the popular kids in the back of the bus.

Santana introduced me to half a dozen people, but I just characterized them by looks instead of names. There were three guys in letterman jackets: crew cut, mohawk, and baby face. Crew cut was sitting by himself in a seat. Mohawk and baby face were squished into a seat together, seemingly by Santana's demand. There were two girls I recognized from Cheerio tryouts. They were sophomore girls named Meredith and Stacy. Both wore permanent smirks, but nodded shortly in my direction in greeting before going back to whispering to one another.

The ride to McKinley was short and I couldn't remember anything that Santana had told me about McKinley. I just knew that I should stick close to her and everything would work out fine.

Eyes followed us as we walked down the hall and I gulped at all of the attention. I had made it a habit to avoid attracting any attention to myself for years, but I had to quickly remind myself that I was no longer Lucy.

Santana pointed at my locker and continued a few feet down the hallway to her own. I was grateful to have someone looking out for me because I was overwhelmed by all of the unfamiliar faces and the sheer size of the high school compared to my old tiny middle school. It took me three tries to get my combination right and have my locker pop open with a metallic click.

I unzipped my backpack and unloaded my supplies: a neat stack of color-coded notebooks and binders and a perfectly organized pencil case. Santana appeared next to my locker, her backpack slung over one shoulder and Brittany hovering excitedly by her side.

"Neat freak much, Q?" asked Santana playfully, looking at the contents of my locker. I blushed deeply at her judgment and at the nickname she had just given me.

I shrugged and closed the door, leaving just one all-purpose notebook and a pen in my backpack and clutched the card with my homeroom assignment printed on it.

Santana grabbed my card and looked at the room number before shoving it back into my palm.

"You're in the room right next to mine. C'mon we can walk together." I walked silently beside Santana, wondering if this girl was meant to be my new friend. She linked pinkies casually with Brittany as they walked.

She stopped abruptly a few doors early and turned to Brittany.

"I'll meet you here after homeroom, B. Wait for me, okay?" Santana said seriously to the blonde girl, talking to her in a soft voice that I hadn't heard come from Santana before.

I was intrigued by the interaction, but I averted my gaze to the passing crowds to act like I wasn't eavesdropping. I saw Brittany fling her arms around Santana's neck and hug her before skipping into classroom.

Santana walked back at me and continued down the hall with me in tow. She glared at kids that she obviously considered losers and I noticed how many people moved out of our way, seemingly just at the sight of our uniforms. Despite the crowds, it took mere seconds until I was standing at my classroom door.

"I'll see you later I guess," I said awkwardly, looking at the toes of my sneakers. Santana pushed a piece of paper into my palm.

"That's my number. Text me when you get your schedule so we can see if we have class together. If not, I'll see ya at lunch." With a little wave, she turned on her heel and walked to the next-door over and disappeared into it with a swish of her skirt. My eyes followed her until she was gone before I walked into my own classroom.

Boys were tossing a football between themselves across the room and girls gossiped, their heads bent close together. I picked a seat halfway towards the back near the windows and slid into it. My fingers itched to pull my copy of Pride and Prejudice out of my backpack, but I refrained, not wanting to look like a nerd. It wasn't something that Quinn would do.

The bell rang and the class settled into seats and the teacher walked into the room wearing a plaid shirt, gray tie, and matching gray vest over it. His hair was gelled back and his chiseled cheekbones were emphasized by his enormous, enthusiastic smile.

The teacher introduced himself as Mr. Schuster, but told us we could call him Mr. Schue. He seemed pretty cool and I waited patiently for him to reach my name as he passed out our schedules.

I raised my hand timidly when he called my name and I silently thanked my mom for remembering to register me as Quinn rather than Lucy so I wouldn't have to explain.

My schedule was all honors classes, which wasn't all surprising. Lucy had always had a lot of time to spend on schoolwork, so my grades were nearly perfect coming into McKinley.

I had never had friends to text during class, but I slipped my phone from my backpack and punched in Santana's number before sending her a copy of my schedule. I was surprised when she responded immediately that we had all of the same classes. Santana hadn't seemed like the honors student type, but I told myself that I shouldn't judge people by what they looked like. Quinn Fabray probably didn't look like an honors student either, but she really wasn't, Lucy was.

The bell rang to dismiss us from homeroom and Santana was already standing outside my classroom when I emerged.

"I need to walk Britt to class. She gets lost easily," said Santana simply in greeting and I just nodded as I followed her back to Brittany's classroom. The bubbly blonde was flitting near the door where Santana had left her and she immediately linked her pinky with Santana's as the Latina led the way to Brittany's next class.

I smiled at their backs. They were obviously the best of friends and it was everything I had ever hoped for in my own life. I hoped there was room for one more in their little union because I desperately wanted to be Santana Lopez's friend.

The day went by in a whirlwind. Classes were harder than they had been in middle school, but Santana passed me random notes when she would get bored and I could hardly contain my excitement at having someone to sit with. I stood by idly as she intimidated random other freshmen in the hallways that seemed to bother her and I trailed her as we picked up Brittany and dropped her at the next class before heading to our own.

Cheerio practice was right after school today and I walked to the locker room with Santana and Brittany. Santana told crude jokes that seemed to go over Brittany's head, but I laughed because I was being included, even though most of them actually grossed me out.

For the first time, I didn't sit silently by myself during water breaks. Santana and Brittany were always there, complaining about Sylvester or pointing out specific boys on the football team that were practicing nearby.

My mom was waiting in her Lexus SUV outside of the gym when I emerged and I hopped into the passenger seat with a bounce despite the grueling practice Coach Sylvester had just put us through.

"How was your first day?" she asked as we pulled away from the curb and headed in the direction of the expensive end of town where our small mansion sat.

"Amazing," I breathed and filled her in on most of the details. For the second time that day, my mom told me she was proud of me.

The rest of the week went basically the same way. I slowly learned the names of Santana's friends and the hierarchy of McKinley. Being a Cheerio put us near the top immediately, but Santana had already established a strong reputation through middle school and I was able to latch onto it with our new friendship.

Friday night was the first football game. I stood in the locker room, my uniform recently dry cleaned and pressed. The white ribbon in my hair was tied perfectly. But my nerves were out of control.

"You look like you're about to piss yourself, Q," teased Santana from behind me. I forced myself to stop my pacing and turn to face her, keeping myself as emotionless as possible.

"Just nervous you guys are going to drop me. I like how my face looks without it being broken."

"There's a party at one of the football guy's house after the game. B is going to sleepover afterwards and she made me promise to invite you too," Santana said, rolling her eyes. Quinn swallowed heavily.

"I don't have to come if you don't want me there," I said meekly, trying to keep my composure. I had thought that Santana wanted to be my friend, but she didn't seem excited by the idea of me staying at her house too.

"I don't deny B her wishes and she wants you to sleepover. Call your mom or whatever because I'm not going to let her down." Santana left the locker room and I stood there with my mouth agape.

I did as I was told and called my mother. She seemed excited that I had been invited to sleepover a friend's house and agreed immediately. I didn't tell her about the party.

My nerves grew throughout the game. It became obvious immediately that the fans had come to see the Cheerios because the football team was simply terrible. They got booed on almost every play and I could feel the eyes on me as I got thrown into the air over and over.

We all showered quickly in the locker room. I was still self-conscious about this ritual and I got it over with as fast as possible before changing into the clothes I had packed in my duffel bag.

I was sitting on the bench outside the locker room and Santana emerged with Brittany in tow half an hour later. Her mom greeted Brittany and Santana happily as they climbed into the car and turned to face me. I introduced myself in true Fabray fashion. Parents typically loved me immediately and Mrs. Lopez was no exception.

We swung by my house and I stuffed my toothbrush and my least embarrassing pajamas into a bag before yelling goodbye to my mom and running back to the idling car. She pulled into Santana's driveway mere minutes later at a house only two blocks away from my own.

Santana led the way to her bedroom through the impressive foyer and up the expansive extra-wide staircase. It was easily just as nice as my own house, although it felt more welcoming than mine did.

I was surprised by Santana's bedroom. She had tons of posters for various bands plastered onto her cream colored walls. Clothes littered the floor near her closet and hung from her laundry bin haphazardly. Her comforter was a deep maroon and contrasted nicely with the light walls and wooden floors.

She told me to drop my stuff wherever I wanted so I put it neatly into the corner next to her desk. Brittany immediately sprawled out across Santana's bed casually. She beckoned me over with a warm smile and I perched on the edge of the bed beside her. Santana was rifling through the bottom of her closet and gave a little grunt of triumph as she emerged with a half-full bottle of vodka in her hand.

My eyes went wide at the site of the liquor. I had never tasted the stuff before, but Frannie had told me plenty of stories from when she was in high school and during her freshman year of college. I tried to not look as scared as I felt.

"The guys are going to pick us up in an hour, so we have some time to warm up before we go," she said with a shrug, opening her desk drawer and pulling out three shot glasses. She lined them up on her desk and poured them before passing one to Brittany and I. My hands were shaking and I willed them to steady before I spilled the liquid onto my lap.

"To new friends!" exclaimed Brittany and raised her glass for Santana and I to clink ours against. We mumbled her toast before tipping the glass to our lips simultaneously and allowing the liquor to drain down our throats.

I coughed like the inexperienced drinker I was and my cheeks went red immediately.

"First shot, Q?" asked Santana with a smirk. I gave an embarrassed nod. She reached into her bag and tossed me a half-empty Diet Coke and I took a swig, appreciating the relief from the burning sensation that had taken over my throat.

"The first always burns the worst," said Brittany expertly. She reached over and squeezed my hand affectionately and I smiled at her. I was amazed that she and Santana were best friends because they were so drastically different.

We took two more shots before the boys pulled up. The room shook uncomfortably when I stood up and I swayed on my feet. Santana and Brittany each grasped one of my arms and led me down the stairs and quickly past Mrs. Lopez. The three of us climbed into the back seat of the junior boy's car. He introduced himself as Tim and I gave a little hello, trying to get control of my fuzzy head. The vodka had taken full effect by this point and I couldn't deny that I was most definitely drunk.

Brittany clung to my arm and led me into the house where loud music was playing. There were a ton of people milling around the main parts of the house and I recognized a couple faces from the hallways at school, but most of them were complete strangers. I was grateful for Brittany's tight grasp and Santana pulled us through the room, calling hellos to people as we passed.

Before I knew it, I was standing in the middle of the living room that was obviously being used as a makeshift dance floor. Brittany's hips were moving with the beat of the song and she forced me to move along with her. Santana settled in behind Brittany, her hands on the blonde's hips and moving easily along with her. I let myself get lost in the music as well, my eyes closing and my body moving. They only shot open when I felt somebody press against my back.

"Get lost, Puckerman!" said Santana seething and the mohawk boy from our bus backed away, his hands raised in defeat. I gave Santana a smile of appreciation and she winked at me. It gave me a funny butterfly feeling in my stomach.

I actually sobered up before we returned to Santana's house that night. After the vodka shots in her bedroom, I only had one mixed drink, but my head was pounding with a developing hangover.

We changed into our pajamas, Brittany pulling hers from the bottom drawer of Santana's dresser that obviously housed her own stash of extra clothes. Brittany laid in the middle of the king-sized bed and told me that I could have the right side because Santana always slept on the left.

The bed was plenty big enough, but I had only ever slept like this with my sister and I laid under the blanket trying to avoid touching Brittany. She pulled me closer until my hand was resting on her stomach. I could feel Santana's warm hand brush against mine and I shivered.

"You know, we're like the Trinity. Except we're totally Unholy," said Brittany, pulling us even closer.

"You're right, B. Welcome to the Unholy Trinity, Q." I knew then that this night was just the first of many.

The fall semester of freshman year flew by. By the time Thanksgiving break rolled around, I felt completely at home in the halls of McKinley. Santana and I easily ruled the freshman class and a good portion of the rest of the school as well. Brittany happily flounced along with us as students parted from us in the hallways, avoiding meeting the eyes of the two most intimidating girls at school.

At first, I felt guilty that I was acting like so many of my prior tormentors had. But it was hard to deny the rush that came from being on top. We never had to worry about getting the best table in the cafeteria and we were always invited to the hottest social events. Boys fawned over us and Santana and Brittany entertained them in strings throughout those first few months. I stayed out of it for the most part, still preferring a quiet night curled up with a book to the drunken nights of high school. I would never admit it and I tagged along to the frequent Friday night parties, allowing the upperclassmen boys to dance with me for a while before leaving them cold at the end of the night without so much as a goodnight kiss.

My reputation built quickly: Quinn Fabray was the icy freshman cheerleader that could hold her vodka but stuck hard to her good girl Christian ideals. I was a challenge, a prize to be won and nobody had even come close to being successful.

Wednesday was the last day of school before the break and I met Santana at the bus stop wearing my winter Cheerio coat and shivering in the frigid air. The lanky boy, a sophomore named Toby I came to find out later, kept his distance from us as usual. He had been Santana's next-door neighbor for years, but he was terrified to meet her eyes like most of the people at school.

"Party tonight at Tim's. You in, Q?" she asked me, scuffing her sneakers against the slushy snow on the curb.

"Yeah, definitely," I replied without hesitation.

I rarely said no, determined to keep my reputation up with frequent appearances. Plus, a party night meant a sleepover at either Santana's or Brittany's house. I loved their houses more than my own. They were welcoming and their parents treated me like I was one of their own. We rarely slept over my own house because I knew my parents wouldn't be okay with us going out to parties all over town and returning drunk, then collapsing in bed together. I had invited them over a couple of times, but it was blaringly obvious that the Fabray home wasn't one of love and we did our best to avoid it.

"We're sleeping at my place tonight. No Cheerios this afternoon because of break, so we can take the bus home and you can just walk over whenever you're ready."

The ugly yellow bus pulled up just then and I wrinkled my nose at it. I would get my license in the spring at the end of next year and knowing my family that meant I'd have a car at my disposal. It was the only thought that made riding the smelly bus every day bearable.

We hopped off the bus that afternoon, our bags heavy with homework. Santana was moaning about all of the work teachers gave us when we were supposed to be having a vacation and I couldn't help but agree. Brittany had taken the bus home with us and didn't even have a backpack with her. I was convinced Brittany didn't actually do any schoolwork; she was in almost all remedial classes as it was.

I waved goodbye and promised to be over as soon as I could escape. They understood, knowing how things could be at my house.

Luck was in my favor that night and my parents had a dinner thing with my dad's boss, so they were quick to give me permission to go to Santana's without even sitting down for dinner. I threw my typical supplies into my Cheerio bag and walked the couple of blocks up to the Lopez house.

I didn't bother knocking on Santana's door when I reached the top of the stairs. I pushed the door open about to announce my arrival, but instead I was rendered speechless. Brittany was straddling Santana's legs and their mouths were working against one another. I could see their tongues moving together and I heard Santana moan softly at something Brittany was obviously doing to her.

I let out a little squeak of surprise after a long, awkward moment of silence. Santana's eyes snapped open and she shoved Brittany off of her when she saw me standing in the doorway.

"Hey, Q! We didn't think you'd be over until after dinner!" said Brittany excitedly, bounding across the room and throwing her arms around my neck in a loose hug. I stood there, not sure what to say. What I had just witnessed went completely against everything I had ever heard during long Sundays spent in church. Yet it looked so natural. I had never even kissed a boy, but I felt a burning deep in my stomach at what I had just witnessed.

"It's not what it looked like," mumbled Santana, straightening her uniform and fixing her ponytail before marching into her private bathroom and slamming the door behind her.

"Don't worry about Sanny. She doesn't want anybody to know that she gives me sweet lady kisses sometimes, but I know you won't tell anybody, Q." I tried to give the innocent blonde a reassuringly smile, but it came out more as a forced grimace.

Santana emerged half an hour later, showered and wrapped only in a towel. I had seen her like that a million times after Cheerios practice, but it felt like everything was heightened between the three of us after what I had witnessed. I forced myself to look somewhere other than at Santana's tanned thighs that were peeking out from the bottom of her navy blue towel.

"Quinn knows that our sweet lady kisses are a secret. She promises not to tell anybody, San," said Brittany, the innocence dripping from her voice and I noticed the small smile that ghosted across Santana's lips at Brittany.

Santana responded by pulling a bottle of rum out from under her bed and thrusting it into my hands.

"I think this night needs to start with shots," she said simply and I opened the desk drawer and extracted the shot glasses. I agreed with her silently, but was too scared of Santana's wrath to speak aloud.

We were already drunk by the time Puck and his buddy picked us up. I clung to Brittany's arm as we piled into the SUV. Santana was even more drunk than me, which was a first. I was surprised when I felt her pinky link with mine like she always did with Brittany.

As soon as we got to the party, Santana disappeared into the crowd. I took my time walking in, saying hello to those considered on my level of popularity and basically ignoring everybody else. I let Puck mix me a drink and gave in when Brittany dragged me into the next room to dance. We were dancing together, closer than normal perhaps, but it felt nice. I could see Santana across the room with a senior boy's tongue down her throat. The sight made me scowl, but I wasn't sure why. I knew that it wasn't that she was cheating on Brittany because Brittany was now making out with a random guy too. It almost felt like jealousy. My friends were so relaxed and able to enjoy anything and anybody around them and I was uptight.

So when Tim, the host, came up behind me and started dancing, I didn't shrug him off. I spun around after a few minutes to face him and he gave me a goofy grin, slipping his arm around my waist and keeping me close. When he bent down and pushed his lips against mine, I didn't push him away. I let them brush roughly against mine for a few moments until he opened his mouth and I felt his tongue trying to push between my lips. Internally, I freaked out, but I let my lips part slightly, granting him access. It was wet and sloppy and not at all like the fairy tales I had read a million times.

"Get some, Q!" squealed Brittany from her perch on random guy's leg on the couch. My friend's voice pulled me out of the moment and I pulled away from Tim. He still was sporting that awful goofy grin and I felt disgusted. I glared at him and left the room.

Santana appeared right behind me when I slipped out the sliding glass door and stood alone on the back deck. She hugged my shoulders and held me as a couple of tears slid down my cheeks.

"What that your first kiss, Q?" she asked in the soft voice that usually was reserved for Britt. My silence answered her question clearly.

"Can we go home, San?" I whispered. Brittany appeared on the deck and a silent conversation between the two of them ended in me being led through the yard and into a car. I was in the middle of them and I didn't recognize the girl behind the wheel, but I didn't question it.

Before I could comprehend it, I was lying on my back in Santana's bed on the right side like always. My hand rested on Brittany's stomach and I could feel her steady breathing. Santana's fingers interlocked with me and it was comforting. I fell asleep feeling safe.

Frannie came home for Thanksgiving. She babbled on about her sophomore year at Stanford and my father acted like the golden child had made her return. Despite all of the changes since my Lucy days, Frannie would always be dad's favorite.

The Saturday after Thanksgiving, my parents went to visit some friends and I invited Santana and Brittany over. Brittany had family things, but Santana came over. We watched movie after movie in my family den, our feet tucked into one another and the bowl of popcorn balanced on my lap.

"What freaked you out so badly about kissing Tim?" she asked me, again in her gentle voice. We hadn't talked about that night at all.

"I don't know. It felt like the completely wrong way to have a first kiss. I guess I always thought it would be like they make it seem in movies and books."

Santana rubbed her feet against mine. They were freezing and I tossed a throw blanket over them. She smiled appreciatively.

"What was your first kiss like?" I asked. Santana never talked about feelings, so I knew I was pushing my luck. She stared at the TV for a few minutes and I figured she was just going to ignore my question.

"It was perfect. Soft and sensual and explosive all at the same time." She continued to stare off, but I could feel her embarrassment at this admission. "It was with Britt." My jaw dropped a little but I recovered quickly.

"I'm sorry that I didn't knock or whatever that night," I mumbled.

"It's no big deal. We just kind of fell into a routine after the first time. I don't think it means anything."

"Do you want it to?" I inquired.

"We're both girls in Lima, Q. Of course I don't want it to." I nodded in agreement.

"I wish my first kiss had been like that," I said quietly, playing with my own fingers. Santana moved closer to me and tipped my chin up so that I was looking into her deep chocolate eyes. They were softer than I was used to seeing them. My heart fluttered as her thumb stroked my cheek softly and started racing as her face slowly moved closer to mine. I let her come towards me and when her lips met mine, I felt everything she had described about her own first kiss.

It was short, but incredibly perfect. I could taste her lip-gloss on my own lips and her face was still close enough that I could feel her warmth breath against my face when we parted.

"Quinnie…" The voice of my sister rang out loud in the quiet room.