Fallout

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I walked out of the cafeteria smugly, my two best friends at my sides. Suddenly, I hear, "Quinn!"

 I turn around and see Sam running towards me. "What the hell was that?"

 "Watch it, Trouty Mouth --" Santana begins, stepping forward.

 I stop her, and motion for her and Brittany to leave. Reluctantly, they walk down the hallway. "Exactly what's your problem?"

 Sam stares at me incredulously. "You just embarrassed your best friend in front of the entire school and sent her out crying. What happened to the Quinn I met just last week?"

 "She got noticed!" I snapped. "She finally had more than one friend! People smiled and whistled at her instead of calling her a loser!"

 "Yeah. And your 15 minutes of fame changed everything I liked about you. Oh and, I specifically liked the part where you kissed Finn Hudson."

 "Oh, puh-lease. We were never official, Sam. Just a few flirty comments and longing glances. Besides, I'm not the one who stood you up."

 "My dog died on Friday. Maybe that doesn't seem important, but I've had her for a long time. It was rough for me. I was going to tell you this morning in English, but you gave me the cold shoulder."

"Sam, I--"

"Don't bother. I can't even recognize you anymore. When I met you, I thought you were the kindest, cutest girl I'd met. Now you're just like Santana."

"Yeah? Well, maybe I like it that way."

 "Yeah, well, I'm glad I didn't go on Friday. 'Cause now I don't have to deal with this."

 I could feel my chest closing up, but my walls were going up. "I don't want you anyways. Head Cheerleader goes with the Quarter Back. You failed at that, so..."

 Sam shook his head. "Have a nice life, Q."

 He walked away, and I swallowed, forcing the tears down. Two in one. I'd lost my best friend and the boy I liked in less than an hour.

Have a nice life, Q.

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