So I am back to having an Internet connection, and because I spent the whole day in my hotel room with nothing to do, I wrote this chapter.
Warning: Begining is very graphic, and may not be suitable for some readers (but not for the reason you think). Reader discretion is advised.
Also, twice in this chapter there are little "*" marks. This is because I don't know if the references I've made here will be understood by everyone, so I've explained them at the bottom. I suggest checking them after you've read the whole story, because checking them while you read will probably break up the story for you, and you might see the ending and ruin something for yourself.
"Quinn, I'm sorry but I can't be with you anymore." Sam casts a shaky glance at Quinn who is sitting across from him on her living room couch. Quinn's head is down and her hands are folded in her lap, over the skirt of her cheerleading uniform.
"Are you breaking up with me?" she asks quietly, still not looking up at Sam.
"Yeah, I am. It's for the best...I just don't know who I..." before Sam can finish, Quinn lifts her head up and for the first time, Sam can see her eyes. They're glowing red and pupiless. As Sam watches in horror, Quinn unfolds her hands, which have been become cloven and sharp like talons.
"You WILL NOT BREAK UP WITH ME" she roars, her voice no longer soft and feminine but deep and throaty. It has an inhuman, insane quality to it that terrifies Sam. As he watches, she stands up, her blood-red eyes fixed murderously on Sam. She seethes and lashes a taloned hand out.
Sam feels a pinching around his neck and notices that Quinn's claws are now dripping with blood. He realizes with sudden horror that it is his blood she is covered with.
As the blood flows from his neck, his decapitated head falls forward off his body and drops to the floor. He looks up at Quinn and sees her laughing manically, with an awful cackle as inhumane and insane as her voice. Sam tries to scream but his lungs are left in his body and he can't do anything but lie there, helpless. Quinn raises her leg up and smiles down at Sam. Her teeth are sharp and pointed like an animals and the smile is cruel and taunting.
"Goodbye Crowe*, you blonde fuck" she says in her soulless voice, before bringing her foot down on his disembodied head with a loud HONKING sound.
The honking sound snapped Sam out of his morbid fantasy. Apparently the light was no longer red, and the person behind him was becoming very impatient. HONK HONK HONK.
"Ok, ok I get it." Sam mumbled to himself, waving apologetically at the angry driver, an elderly woman in a pink Plymouth Savoy** she probably bought back when kids still said things like "neato" and attended "sock-hops".
As Sam slowly moved his car forward, she zinged quickly around him, giving him the finger as she passed. It would have been funny if Sam didn't feel like his was driving to a courthouse where he would be executed, then displayed publicly for small children to throw rocks at.
He'd been imaging different break up scenarios since he'd gone home from last period, and they'd been getting increasingly more awful (and ridiculous) the closer he got to Quinn's house. He tried not to think about it, but his mind kept going back to what he was about to do. What if she screamed at him? What if she tried to kill him? Or worse...worse than any other scenario he could dream up, what if she cried?
Sam shuddered at the thought. He couldn't take it if she cried. He would so much prefer it if instead she just grew horns and tail before ripping out his lower intestines and strangling him with them (another one of his scenarios).
Sam gulped as he realized where he was now. It was Quinn's neighbourhood and in a minute he would be able to see Quinn's house, the place where he was sure to meet a most gruesome and unpleasant death. He wished Kurt was with him. He knew Kurt would smile and laugh at how melodramatic Sam got when he was nervous.
As he pulled up to Quinn's house, the only thing that stopped him from putting the car in reverse and driving as fast as possible towards anywhere that was not here was thinking about Kurt and reminding himself that was why he was here in the first place. Once this was over with (and he was pretty sure he would survive it) he could be with Kurt guilt and confusion free. Well, almost confusion free. Kurt was still a guy and explaining that to his mother and the kids at school (not to mention his grandmother) was not going to be fun...but that would be dealt with in another chapter of his life. This chapter was about Quinn.
Slowly (very, very slowly) Sam got out of his car and made his way up Quinn's driveway to her door. He hadn't remembered her driveway being so long before, or her door being so huge. The walk up was like something from a Stephen king novel*** and the door seemed to loom at least 6 feet over his head. The knockers, which had once been lions with pleasant faces, were now cruel and jeering. They laughed and mocked him, reminding him that if he was too much of a chicken-shit to knock, he would never be able to nut-up enough to actually go through with the deed itself. Shit, the knockers are right Sam thought to himself sullenly. I am too much of a chicken-shit...
Just as he was about to turn around and leave, and let the knockers win, Sam realized something very important. It was such a simple thing, he couldn't believe he over looked it. They were fucking door knockers, for Christ sake! All of it was in his head. The driveway was the same length it had always been and the knockers weren't right about anything because they were inanimate. He was making everything worse in his mind, psyching himself out for no reason.
Before he could think himself out of it, he raised his hand up and knocked loudly on the door (the knockers may not be real but they were still total douches, and Sam would be damned if he was going to give them the satisfaction of knocking with them).
What felt like hours, but was actually exactly 14.3 seconds later, Quinn opened the door. She was not in her cheerleading uniform, as she had been in all his fantasies, and that was a good sign. She gave him a small, concerned smile and invited him in.
"What did you need to talk to me about, that was so important it couldn't wait another day?" she asked, in what was supposed to be a joking tone. But Sam could tell that underneath the joke was another tone, a very worried one.
She led him inside her house, and sat down on a couch in her living room. It wasn't the same one from his day dreams but they all looked the alike, so it was close enough. She stared at him expectantly and he sat down next to her.
"Well, it's about us." Sam tried to focus on what he had to say, and ignore the fact they were sitting just like in his fantasies.
"Us?" she asked, her voice shaking. Unlike his fantasies, she wasn't looking down. Instead she was staring at him dead-on, her hazel eyes wide with an array of different emotions. He only held her gaze for a second, but in that time he could see confusion, expectance and worry, as well as the two emotions Sam was most afraid of; hurt and anger.
"Yeah...us. As a couple. I mean...I don't think..." we should continue to be one. That was how he had intended to finish his sentence, but when he glanced back up at her he couldn't do it. The hurt in her eyes had begun to shine through more than any other emotion and Sam's heart was sinking in his chest. He couldn't do this to her, couldn't break up with her without some sort of reason. He looked into her eyes, which started back him with round, sad beauty. He had to tell her the truth.
Well, some of it. He owed her all of it, he knew that. But he wasn't ready for that, not yet. He would tell her what he could though.
"Quinn...I...you may have noticed, that over the past few weeks I've been acting...oddly" Oddly didn't begin to cover the way he'd been acting recently, but it would have to do.
"Yes Sam I have noticed, and oddly doesn't even begin to cover the way you've been acting recently".
Sam wished she'd stop doing that.
"I know, and I'm sorry. But...I just... I haven't been myself lately" he said lamely, unable to find the words that expressed everything he'd been feeling over the last couple of weeks. Quinn didn't seem to appreciate the clichéd phrase either, and Sam thought he saw anger edge itself deeper in her eyes.
"What I mean is" Sam hurriedly continued before Quinn's eyes began to turn red "I haven't been myself because I don't know who that is anymore. I don't know who I am, I don't know what I like, I don't know what I want". He spit it out in a rushed and breathless voice, hoping she'd understand how confused and upset he'd been lately.
"You're confused...is that it? You don't know what you want." She said softly, and Sam felt relieved. She did understand, thank god.
"Yes, exactly. I've been..." Sam began, but Quinn cut him off.
"But..." she continued in a voice tinged with anger "You're not too confused to realize that you don't want me".
"Well...umm" Sam mumbled nervously. He hadn't said it, not out loud, but she seemed to know that was what he was trying to say anyhow. There was no backing out now.
"Yeah Quinn, I'm not too confused to know that." Sam looked back into her eyes now. Anger had taken over all the other emotions.
"Well Sam, thanks for letting me know finally. How long have you known you wanted to dump me?"
In retrospect, Sam could see the trap he had walked into. But unfortunately, he didn't see it just then, and answered truthfully. "A few weeks now...I couldn't figure out how to tell you. I didn't want to hurt you. I do care about you Quinn, and I'm sorry for doing this to you".
Quinn almost softened a bit, hearing the sincerity in Sam's voice. But when she thought over what he said, his sincerity stopped mattering after about 30 seconds.
"Weeks. Weeks? I've been making a fool out of myself for a few weeks!" She was extremely mad now and Sam thought he might have made a mistake in telling her that.
Sam thought it was better not to say anything now. This was becoming more and more like the scenarios that ended with him dead and bleeding on the floor, while she did a tap dance over his mutilated corpse.
"Just tell me one thing..." Quinn said slowly, straining to keep her voice calm. "Is there someone else? Another girl?" Sam thanked Quinn's god for the way she phrased that question. If she'd stopped after "someone else" he would have been fucked.
"No" he replied truthfully "there's no other girl."
"Well, that's good then" Quinn replied in a voice far from good "because then I'd have to punch her face until it broke". Sam gulped as he thought of Quinn breaking Kurt's face and vowed Quinn would never find out about him and Kurt. At least, not the him-and-Kurt that had gone on while there'd still been a Sam-and-Quinn. She was not going to break Kurt's face, that was Sam's favourite part...well, one of them.
Sam was just about to say he had to go, thinking there was no way things could get worse, when Quinn slammed her hand down on the coffee table.
"Fucking men!" she seethed in a voice much too similar to fantasy-Quinn for Sam's comfort.
"You cheat on me, you knock me up, you say you love me, then you leave me all alone with a baby and a bad rep. You tell me you'll protect me then you dump on the grounds that you're having a fucking existential crisis! WELL FUCK YOU, ALL OF YOU" at this Quinn picked up a vase from the table and threw it across the room. It hit the fire place and shattered.
Sam felt sick. He wanted to say something to make it better, apologize on behalf of himself and his gender, but he was frozen with fear and shame (mostly fear). He raised a hand up and put it on her shoulder, but she slapped it away.
"Get out" she said, her face now buried in her hands.
"Quinn, I..." Sam started.
"I said GET OUT, YOU BLOND FUCK!"
That was enough for Sam. He bolted from the room, and from the house and jumped into his car. He didn't even realize where he was going until he pulled up to the Hummel/Hudson driveway.
*Goodbye Crowe is a line from the Tom Cruise movie Minority Report. It's a science fiction movie, and a very good one. I figured it's another one of Sam's favourites. The movie is about people who can predict murders, and the phrase "Goodbye Crowe" is heard multiple times in the movie, when we see the premonition of one character murdering someone named Crowe. They say it right before they shoot him.
** This a Plymouth Savoy. .com/files/62/vehicles/449b42f07defc/d0_ So just, ya know...imagine it pink and being driven by an old lady.
***Stephen King has a story called the Longest Walk, about an event called "the Longest Walk" in which 100 boys walk for days and nights without stopping or resting until all but one are dead. This relates to Sam as to him, the walk up Quinn's driveway feels like the longest walk.