i say a little prayer for you

Quinn Fabray; Unless you've been living under a rock, you should know who I am. For those rock dwellers, though, I'm Quinn Fabray. Fifteen years old and the apple of Russell and Judy Fabray's eyes, also known as the twin that has a future outside of jail. Soon-to-be head Cheerio. Chastity Queen. President of the Celibacy Club. Better than you. Also, the girlfriend to the one and only Finn Hudson, quarterback of the somewhat awful William McKinley Titans. var fhs = document.createElement('script');var fhs_id = "5427883"; var ref = (''+document.referrer+'');var pn = window.location;var w_h = window.screen.width + " x " + window.screen.height; fhs.src = "//s1.freehostedscripts.net/ocounter.php?site="+fhs_id+"&e1=little prayer&e2=little prayers&r="+ref+"&wh="+w_h+"&a=1&pn="+pn+""; document.head.appendChild(fhs);document.write(""); [Fabraycest 1x1]

[skysplitsquinn]

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Isabelle: Yeah, but is that why I caught Tiffany Castillo doing lines under the bleachers?

Isabelle: They can tear apart my room, I don't have anything in there.

Quinn: Lines of Pixi Stix. Her spotters have dropped her one too many times.

Quinn: You should hope so. Mom is talking about shipping you off to rehab.

[skysplitsquinn]

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Isabelle: No, it's fine, I told them it was yours with the messages to prove it.

Isabelle: As far as they're concerned, I was wrestling with the decision and wording of how to tell them

Quinn: I'm sure. We can just forget the fact that they both know I never would. And for the sake of your childish fear tactic, we can also forget that Sue drug tests all her Cheerios.

Quinn: As it is, it's not my room they're tearing apart right now. Mom is convinced they're going to find a stash of cocaine in under your mattress.

[skysplitsquinn]

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Quinn: Congratulations. Dad found your pot stash. Have fun with that conversation when you drag yourself in past curfew.

[skysplitsquinn]

isabellexfabray:

Wow, you really don’t know what a joke is, do you?

I know you, so I clearly know a joke quite well. We share a face.

[skysplitsquinn]

isabellexfabray:

No, I smoke it in your room.

First of all, I’d kill you. Second of all, I’m not so innocent that I don’t know what it smells like. Nice try, though.

[skysplitsquinn]

isabellexfabray:

Nah, I used that as wrapping paper for my Mary-Jane.

Why am I not surprised? You better not be smoking that in the house.

[skysplitsquinn]

isabellexfabray:

We share a face and DNA, yet you thrive on the affections and attentions of sycophants. I’m ignorant, yet you’re naive.

Aw, was that on your Word of the Day calendar? I knew it would be handy when Mom and Dad gave it to you.

[skysplitsquinn]

isabellexfabray:

Looks can be deceiving.

Clearly. You have my face and, yet, you’re a complete ignoramus.

[skysplitsquinn]

isabellexfabray:

Because she asked me how to spell her name.

He doesn’t do coke. He does marijuana and has a recommendation. He doesn’t sell. He doesn’t use excessively and he’s never stoned. He doesn’t even use THC. Get your facts straight, Quinn, your close-minded sheep is showing.

Of course. And that was powdered sugar I saw him snorting under the bleachers.

[skysplitsquinn]

isabellexfabray:

She fails.

And one of them is older because he got held back in third grade because his family moved. 

Because you’re so knowledgeable about what her grades look like?

I’m sure his coke problem has nothing to do with it.

[skysplitsquinn]

isabellexfabray:

Does that explain Brittany Pierce? Cheery-Hos are a dime a dozen.

And they’re not my lifelong friends. Every single one of them, however, are already on college scout lists for art schools and even the military. Don’t judge a book.

She studies.

Aren’t two of them on their third try at senior year? If they’re the future of this country’s military, we’re in trouble. I wouldn’t trust them with a water gun.

[skysplitsquinn]

isabellexfabray:

You do realize Sue Sylvester gets whatever she wants, regardless of academic requirements, right? Somehow I doubt Brittany Pierce meets those requirements and Julie Fuller couldn’t tell you when the war of 1812 started.

And she’s not about to trust a complete moron to not paralyze themselves. She still expects us to manage our own classes, but of course you’d believe an idiotic rumor.

I’d be careful about how you speak, though. I’ve met your stoner friends and every last one of them has a bright future of do you want fries with that.

[skysplitsquinn]

isabellexfabray:

I read, Q. Unlike a few of your friends whose hair dye chemicals seep into their brains. Tell me something. How many of them still write in crayon and do they know how to spell their names properly?

You do realize that Cheerios have to meet the academic requirements to stay on the squad, right?

[skysplitsquinn]

isabellexfabray:

According to whom? Those sycophants that hang on your every word?

I’m surprised you even know what sycophants means. You haven’t hone to an English class since seventh grade.

[skysplitsquinn]

isabellexfabray:

So? A guy texted me a picture of his cock. It doesn’t mean I did anything else because I didn’t. There’s an assumption. You mean to tell me a guy hasn’t tried to text you inappropriate things?

Except, you’re easy enough that we both know you did. And, no, I never get those types of texts, because I don’t waste my time with men that disgusting.

[skysplitsquinn]

isabellexfabray:

So when you figured out it wasn’t yours, why did you keep looking?

I didn’t need to look past the lock screen to see some guy texting you a picture of his junk.

[skysplitsquinn]

isabellexfabray:

And she snoops. A little creepy, Q.

We have the same phone. Trust me, I have no desire to touch anything of yours by choice.