“QT, Hello?!” Natalie waved her pudgy hand feverishly in QT’s face, QT snapping out of her daze and knocking over her empty carton of fruit punch. “Have you been listening to a word I’ve said?” Natalie asked her brusquely, tucking her black chin-length hair behind her small ears, her brown eyes gazing annoyed at Quinn’s lack of attention when she was pouring out her heart about the new senior in her Calculus class. Natalie could just talk on and on about absolutely nothing; sometimes, Quinn just tuned her out all together.
“I’m sorry, Lee,” Quinn apologiesed quietly, poking uninterestingly at her mashed potatoes, La Plata’s high school cafeteria buzzing about with the latest gossip this 6th period, sun slicing onto the gloom of high school life in the suburbia. Quinn tried not to breath in too deeply, her ribs aching and painted like a color-by-number from her run-in with Matt the night before, hoping her gray Aeropostale sweatshirt made it less obvious.
“Are you OK, Quinn?” Brittany asked concerned, leaning forward and touching Quinn’s cold hand, Brittany’s wavy blonde hair expanding over the white table top, her light blue eyes narrowed down in concern.
Quinn didn’t know how much they knew about her and Matt’s volatile relationship, but she was sure they weren’t that blind to see they had their troubles. Quinn gave the girls a meek smile, taking her hand back and placing it in the lap of her faded denim jeans. “Yeah,” Quinn responded confidently, leaning forward on her elbows and letting out a deep sigh, her ribs stabbing her with the force of a thousand pins, Quinn wincing slightly. Quinn wished that his abuse would be second-nature by now, like learning how to ride a bike or live with a disability, so she could focus on trying to make their relationship work. “Matt and I had a fight last night.”
“Again?” Natalie asked exasperated, her small brown eyes wide as she slurped at her Snapple Iced Tea through a straw.
“Well,” Brittany responded, wiggling her eyebrows and sitting up straight as she saw Matt sweep into the lunch room, carrying a bouquet of white rose in tow, Matt’s radar zoning in on Quinn sulking at her table in the corner of the room as his bright smile widened. “I think Mr. Whitman is trying to make it up to you.”
Confused, QT felt his hard hand on her shoulder, QT slowly revolving her head to meet with his as he leaned down, brushing the soft petals against her lips before he gently kissed her, like there was nothing to be scared of in the world. Quinn’s expression didn’t change as Matt said ‘hi’ to Natalie and Brittany, Natalie giving him a cheap smile and Brittany a cute little giggle in return.
“Don’t you have Government now?” Quinn asked him cautiously, Matt only shaking his head at her as he pressed his lips against her forehead, his meaty arm wrapping around her neck, Quinn frightened for a split second.
“Mr. Bryan is the JV Football coach, QT Pie,” Matt reminded her, grazing his finger across her chin, Quinn smiling shyly. He always knew where to touch her. “I could leave school and he wouldn’t care. Listen…” Matt sat down in a blue chair next to her, his Curve cologne making her close her eyes and relive their most intimate moments, Matt taking her hand and rubbing his large thumbs in circles around it, “You know I’m over-the-top in love with you. I was a bit…pushy last night about why you couldn’t go to the game this weekend. I know you’re so stressed with work and your photography and your family and everything, and I just wanted to remind you…” His thumb tapped against her engagement ring, a smile hooking against his full lips, his deep, dark blue eyes shining like a champion’s, “That ring is how much I love you…and even more.” That’s it, it was hook-line-and sinker for Quinn, Quinn tilting her head to the side and smiling goofily. “That’s my girl,” Matt gloated, raising her hand and kissing it like Prince Charming, “You, me, tonight at my house after practice. We’ll…watch a movie. What do you say?”
“Sounds like a date,” QT responded, Matt’s strong hands releasing hers as he passionately kissed her goodbye, waving bye to her friends, and slipping out of the cafeteria.
“How could you guys fight?” Brittany asked, in awe of Quinn and Matt’s relationship, Quinn’s high crashing down like the stock market, Natalie rolling her eyes as Natalie tapped her fingernails against the sides of her chair, wondering why Brittany made everything seem like some fairy tale.
“He just wants to have sex tonight,” Quinn responded, feeling guilty for making Matt seem like some criminal. “Whenever he suggests to watch a movie at his place, we just make our own personal porno on his basement couch.”
Quinn’s brashness about her and Matt’s relationship grabbed Natalie and Brittany’s attentions, Natalie’s pudgy face nearly choking on a chicken nugget. “You better spill, girl,” Natalie told her, opening her canned peaches and grabbing her spoon, “Everything. This is your fiancé we’re talking about.”
Quinn was in shock, such shock of being put on the spot her heart began to pulsate like she was sprinting a marathon, her olive skin becoming slick with sweat. “It’s…just…” Quinn tried to explain, wringing her hands together as her hazel eyes tried to dart away from her friends’ watchful glares, “We fight…a lot. And it hurts, sometimes. Hurts inside. Hurts…I love him with all my being, but I don’t think I can take all the fighting, the yelling, the…all of it.”
Brittany didn’t know how to respond, Brittany pretty virginal to serious relationships, but Natalie did. “You’re young, QT,” Natalie told her gently, trying not to preach like some overbearing mother, spooning some peaches into her small mouth, “Maybe you’re not ready for such a commitment. I mean, marriage? That’s like a foreign language to most 17 year olds. You don’t know what will happen in college, in the spring, hell, even tomorrow. Besides, if Matt is so horrible towards you, as I have suspected by all you guys’ tiffs, he’s no good for you.”
“No good for her?!” Brittany asked incredulously, throwing her hands in the air, then pressing her palms into the table, “He’s the Linebacker for Varsity. He’s Senior Class President. He like volunteers and prays for God’s sake. He’s the guy every guy wants to be, every girl wants to do.”
“Including you?” Natalie asked smugly, raising her eyebrows stealthily, Quinn staring surprised at Natalie’s accusations.
“No,” Brittany said unconvincingly, waving Natalie off as she leaned in close to Quinn, “Listen…He’s made you popular. Doesn’t that mean anything to you? He got you that job at the movie theatre. He got you that extension on your US History term paper last year. He got you an invite to the hottest parties all year. Are you really willing to give that all up?”
Their two views clashed so much, Quinn excused herself and sprinted towards the bathroom, literally sick over the toilet about her situation…
~*~
“Paul, give in a fucking rest!” Benji yelled at him, it being 4 AM as they flew overseas to meet with some record execs and do a few shows to promote the album coming out in a few weeks, Benji not a morning person nor a plane person, Paul badgering the twins once again about Quinn, “Why are you so anal about this?”
“OK, Benj,” Joel interceding and taking Paul to the back of the record company’s jet where they could talk, Billy zonked out after 5 minutes on the plane and 5 minutes of AFI on his CD player, a strand of drool ready to topple over onto his chin. “I’ll take Pauly for a walk.”
“Walk him off the damn plane,” Benji mumbled before snuggling down in his tan seat onto his Smurfs pillow, wrapping his faded Pooh bear underneath his bare arms.
“What is up, man?” Joel asked quietly, both of them plopping on the couch in the back of the plane, Paul leaning forward and rubbing his hands through his droopy spikes, “Are you really that twitchy for my cousin?”
Paul gazed up at him funnily, leaning back against the couch, swaying his legs back and forth, “I don’t even know what you’re talking about, but if you’re referring that I want to bone her or something, you’re wrong.”
“Just though I’d get it out of the way,” Joel smiled with relief, reaching forward for a Poland Springs bottle, the whole plane dimly lit in respect for those who want to sleep, the night a misty gray.
“Doesn’t it strike you as strange that she didn’t mention Mike until I saw her ring?” Paul asked.
“Maybe she forgot to?” Joel questioned unpersuasively, Paul grining a little as he punched Joel’s shoulder.
“It just doesn’t seem right,” Paul continued, drumming his fingers on his knees, his cut off black jeans dancing along with his fingers, “Her tone, her resistance about Mike. Do you think something’s wrong?”
“What the hell do I know anymore,” Joel sighed, gulping down the water, “Maybe she’s just looking for attention. Her dad left her, her mom and her bro after her bro was born, you know.”
“Really?” Paul asked morosely, thinking this was another casualty of the Madden family curse.
“Well…he divorced Aunt Sara, I mean,” Joel clarified, “Moved up to DC and got a job as a governmental security guard. Barely sees Quinn and Chris. The last time was maybe…4 years ago. I don’t know what the deal is. It’s just fucking wrong.” Joel silenced his growing fury with water before he said something he’d regret.
“Got that right,” Paul agreed, crossing his arms over his black and white striped T-Shirt, feeling almost guilty for having such a blissful childhood and family.
“Maybe you could talk to her,” Joel suggested, turning towards Paul and leaning forward. “See what’s going on with Mike, what’s going on with Uncle Frank, since you’re so interested. She likes you.”
A smile suddenly jumped on Paul’s face. “Really?” he asked giddily, never imagining someone has pretty and…preppy as Quinn finding anything likable in a punk like him, “How can you tell?”
“She introduced herself as Quinn,” Joel pointed out matter-of-factly, tapping his finger on his opposite palm as if strictly scolding his son, “She always introduces herself as QT to new people. It’s sort of her pet name. There must be some reason se introduced herself as Quinn to you instead of QT, maybe she feels comfortable with you, so comfortable she doesn’t have to use that ‘QT’ facade.”
“You’re pretty smart, you know that, Joel?” Paul congratulated Joel, patting Joel’s shoulder firmly.
“Hey,” Joel began confidently, tugging at the collar of his black button-down dress shirt, “I didn’t gradate 290 out of 293 for nothing!”
Paul felt like he was high (like he didn’t know that feeling lol) with this new “mission” of his life. Paul wasn’t quite sure why he was so concerned, maybe it was her manner, her innocence, his instincts to protect, to be everyone’s shoulder to cry on, that drove Quinn into his brain. He had her number, all he had to do was call…