The football locker room was normally filled with noise – boyish brags and jeers, trash talking and boasting about sports team winnings or the latest acquisition of a new hot girl from two towns over. However, the so-called manly gossip always reached an all-time high whenever there was one of the notorious Cheerios sleepovers that night.

Of course the boys never actually attended. They couldn't. All they could do was smack talk in fabrications to one another about how many of the cheerleaders they'd gotten with (in actuality, very few of the boys have gotten with anything), and imagine to themselves what kind of kinky mischief would be happening that night. And with girls the likes of Santana and Brittany (especially Santana and Brittany together) on the legendary cheer team, why wouldn't they?

In reality the sleepovers were much more different than the boys imagined. Much… tamer, although that didn't go for saying that there wasn't a fair share of dirty looks and murmured gossip, especially after Santana and Quinn's catfight in the hallway. People were still talking about it, and tensions between the two hadn't alleviated much. And by much, that meant not at all.

Still, Coach Sylvester insisted on the sleepovers, to build Cheerio solidarity. Quinn sometimes thought that Coach Sylvester wanted them to live, breathe, and eat cheerleading. Which is why she wasn't surprised when Coach handed her a manila envelope and told her that as head cheerleader (Quinn couldn't help but feel a burst of pride when she heard her name attached to the position – it was like slipping into a brand new, yet perfect-fitting dress, it felt so comfortable and right, and just plain wonderful), it would be her job to present some new team rules that Coach Sylvester had decided to instate in order to keep her "ranks in top-notch caliber", as she obviously wouldn't be attending that night's, uh, festivities, if Quinn could call it that. Wrinkling her pert, perfect nose slightly and discreetly at Coach's military metaphor (although Quinn wasn't sure it was entirely a metaphor), she took the envelope and headed out of the office, uniform skirt swishing, said bye to Becky on her way out, and carried on her way to her locker. She had to stop by it on her way home.

As she walked down the hallway, Quinn began to make a list in her mind of all the things she had to do that afternoon: it was a Friday, so she had Big Brothers and Sisters, where she mentored a little girl, then homework, then cheerleading. There was a big game that night, and the girls would have to be in tip-top shape. Maybe I should call an extra, quick practice right before the game… the blonde idly thought as she passed column after column of lockers. Then of course, after the game was the Cheerios sleepover. Quinn wasn't looking forward to it, to be perfectly honest. At the thought of the sleepover, and manila envelope burned in Quinn's hand. She suddenly felt like she had to open, had to look at it. Coach Sylvester hadn't said she couldn't, right? The head cheerleader would have to eventually look at it to present it to the girls that night.

The hallway was mostly empty, and Quinn glanced quickly around before she twisted the metal clip and slipped out the pristine white sheet of paper. It read, in bold print, THE CHEERIOS RULES. Her hazel eyes scanned the page quickly.

Quinn had been working on her physics homework (a subject that frustrated her to no end) for what seemed like forever, when she glanced up at the clock and realized she should probably start getting ready for the big game tonight. Slipping into her Cheerios uniform and lacing her sneakers tightly, Quinn found her makeup bag and quickly reapplied some eyeliner and mascara, framing her deep hazel eyes with a tasteful coating of the ebony makeup. Gathering her hair up into a ponytail, Quinn carefully and slowly separated each section of the ponytail, clamping it into her curling iron, and releasing it, watching the perfect gleaming blonde spiral fall gracefully back into its rightful place.

Appearances were very important to her; ever since she had reclaimed her old reputation Quinn paid extra mind to being flawless. Or at least appearing flawless. Even though she was the head cheerleader, and by extension one of the most popular girls in school, again, things obviously had felt different since… Beth. She knew people still whispered about her behind her back, still made MILF jokes, insisting with their vicious gossip that no matter what Quinn Fabray did to be enviable and perfect again, the dark shadow of teenage pregnancy would still always follow her.

Because it's hard. It's really hard sometimes, always having to assure yourself that you're better than everyone else in order to make it through the day without breaking down in tears in the girls' bathroom about your ex boyfriends, and classmates, and fellow cheerleaders, and glee club, and parents, and religion, and work and work and work and baby.

Thinking about these sorts of things cause some sort of mechanism within Quinn to snap and she saw her own eyes become cold and unemotional in the mirror in front of her. It wasn't that she didn't care about Beth – she cared more than anyone would ever understand – it was that she had learned to put her feelings away when the whispering gossip machine started up every day. Even though she was a – gulp – mother, that didn't mean that Quinn shouldn't be able to live her life like a normal teenage girl. She was still a teenager; she was allowed to have fun without the constant reminders of her less-than-desirable past that her classmates so eagerly prompted.

That was one of the reasons she loved cheerleading. Even the word itself – cheerleading – well, it had "leading" in it. Quinn loved the leadership of it, the power that being head cheerleader gave her. It had allowed her to transition from misfit mother to at least something like her old life. Besides Santana, the girls at cheer practice didn't much taunt her about Beth: she was in charge of them; she was the best, the coolest, the most beautiful. So they obeyed her. It was a sublime slice of pre-baby life, almost better in a way, only because her lightening-quick return to the top of the pyramid (literally) reminded them that yeah, she was kicked off the squad and had a baby, but she had been reinstated faster than Brittany could spell "orange" so they'd better not challenge her. In short, nothing stopped Quinn Fabray from rising to the top.

The football game was mostly uneventful, as, unfortunately, most were. Finn was back as quarterback since the new kid, Sam Evans, had hurt his shoulder and was warming the bench. Quinn didn't pay much attention to either, Finn because she didn't care, but Sam more deliberately. The cute new blond boy had been glancing furtively at her during English class, glee club, and in the hallways, and that was too much for Quinn not to put her guard up.

She didn't like him.

At least, that's what she told herself. She didn't even know him. Yes, he was cute. Gorgeous, even, but that was beside the point.

I mean, it didn't even matter that when he looked at her it felt different from Finn's blank stares or Puck's lecherous glances. It wasn't like his eyes looked at hers with an honest intensity that made her scared that someone she barely knew could destroy everything she'd worked so hard for with a simple "hey". Not that Sam would ever say that to her. "Destroy your popularity", not "hey". In fact, she secretly hoped the "hey" would come soon because it was killing her seeing his I-can't-tell-if-they're-green-or-blue-or-a-new-shade-of-gorgeous eyes everyday and having to keep up the Ice Queen act.

It was mostly a question of power. Most of life at McKinley was, after all. Who had it, how they had gotten it, and how you could steal it from them. But Sam hadn't calculated a popularity takeover or anything. He'd just seen her in such an honest way that BAM. She had given him so much of her resolve without his even asking and wow did she feel stupid. Quinn told herself that she was the cheerleading queen, the top girl at school, and she didn't have silly little crushes like this. That was so… commonplace. She told herself that after Beth things would be about her. She would focus on herself again, on Cheerios and bullying those below her in the calculating, snippy, haughty way she had perfected. Once she had her power back, why would she not use it? And maybe she could even focus a little on getting some solos in glee club. She did love to sing.

But how had she so voluntarily given that power up? She hadn't, Quinn insisted to herself. It wasn't her fault that Sam Evans had something other boys didn't. She couldn't pinpoint it exactly, but something inside of her wanted it, against her better judgment.

He was nice. A boy in her high school was actually, genuinely nice to people. That made her feel inferior and silly, and Quinn hated that.

She may have gotten a little caught up in looking at him sitting there all cute and oblivious and injured on the bench and when she messed up a lift she blamed it on Santana.

When she pulled up to Brittany's house in her red VW beetle, Quinn didn't have the greatest feeling in her stomach. Still, she pushed the negative thoughts of out her mind, squared her shoulders and sharpened the look in her liquid gold hazel eyes, and grabbed her Cheerios overnight bag from the backseat. Walking up to the doorstep, she rang the doorbell to the Pierce's palatial home. When the oaken door opened, Brittany stood on the other side, wearing her red-and-white Cheerios pajamas and a bright smile. Seeing the ditzy blonde girl, Quinn smiled back. She liked Brittany. Sure, she could be stupid sometimes but she was nice. And she was loyal to Quinn as head cheerleader, even though everyone knew about her and Santana.

"Quinn! Come in, everyone's in the living room."

Quinn followed Brittany into her living room, which was filled with Cheerios in Cheerios pajamas unrolling their Cheerios sleeping bags. Essentially, a lot of red and white was happening. There was a plate of Coach Sylvester's soy protein carob cookies on the coffee table (they tasted vaguely like cardboard, and the girls were all very accustomed to them), and the girls were all sitting around, cross-legged, chatting. When Quinn walked in, they all greeted her.

"Hey, everyone."

"Oh, Quinn, we saved you a spot for your sleeping bag right in the middle!"

Quinn smiled and set her stuff down. Maybe the night wouldn't be that bad after all.

Later that night, Brittany had broken out the real junk food and the girls were arguing over whether they should watch Bring It On or Fired Up. With everyone gathered around, Quinn thought it would probably be a good time to unveil the new addition to the Cheerios rules. She stood slowly, and smoothed one hand over the top of her curly ponytail, and got the envelope out of her bag. When she stood, the girls quickly quieted down, sensing an announcement.

"Okay, Coach Sylvester just gave me some new rules this afternoon, and expect everyone to adhere to them, of course." Quinn opened the manila envelope and pulled out the crisp sheet of paper.

"Rule number one: wear the uniform everyday." This was met with nods from all the girls.

"Rule number two: no extra carbs." Natalie, whose hand had been reaching for the popcorn, blushed and tucked her hand behind her back as Quinn gave her a look.

"Rule number three: cheer practice before all else." More nods.

"Rule number four: we're cheerios. We own the school. Act like it, girls." Giggles.

"Rule number five," Quinn swallowed a little. "Glee club sucks." Quinn snuck a glance at Santana, who had crossed her arms and sharpened her facial expression, and at Brittany, who looked oblivious.

"Rule number six: what Coach Sylvester says goes." This was undeniable, of course.

"Rule number seven: no cheer sex." More giggles.

"What's cheer sex? Is that like sex with a cheerleader because if it is I think I broke that one." Brittany wondered.

"Brit, no. It's like in Bring It On. You know, when Torrence is flirting with Cliff while she's cheering?" Amanda said gently.

"Why would she be flirting with a cliff?" Brittany responded.

"Okay, I guess we're watching Bring It On, then." Santana rolled her eyes a little.

And so that was settled.

The next few weeks passed uneventfully. The new Cheerios rules had still nagged in the back of Quinn's mind, but she knew that Coach Sylvester had made an exception to the glee rule for her, Santana, and Brittany. They were her top three, after all.

And anyways, Quinn had other things to worry about.

Like Sam Evans.

Instead of a chance to lead the Cheerios and restate her dominance over the McKinley social scene, football games had become her own personal time to try to get Sam's attention without being too forward or other people noticing. She'd laugh a little louder at jokes when she and few other Cheerios were standing near the boys' benches. She'd smile brighter when one of the guys was talking to her, stand a little closer to them. She pulled her Cheerios skirt up a fraction higher. Made her hair shinier. Did her makeup better.

He just seemed to get less interested. How was that fair?

Maybe she was just overthinking things.

Quinn always did. Overthink things, I mean. Whenever she was in a relationship, or had a crush, she always wanted everything to be perfect. To be honest, she wanted every facet of her life to be perfect. But especially love, because ever since she was little, she'd wanted that perfect, happy love. She had tried so hard with Finn. She had even tried to make things work with Puck, even though they'd been wrong for each other, for the world, from the start. That was one of the things that had bothered her severely during the pregnancy. Of course, her parents throwing her out and the fact that she would been teenaged mother had been the most troublesome; they were the things that made her press her face into the pillow at night to muffle her sobs so that Puck's mom, and later Mercedes' mom, wouldn't hear. Still, the fact that she had tried to hard to make everything right, and the worst possible thing happened really got to her.

So she was confident that she was overanalyzing this thing with Sam. Or rather, this non-thing with Sam. Whenever she had a crush, Quinn's normal, bitchy resolve crumbled a little. As much as she resented that, she knew it was typical. That hurt a little, being so typical. But Quinn didn't care about being typical, if typical meant that she felt as good as she did when Sam smiled at her.

He made her feel like she was something real. Like they could be something real, together.

At the football game that next Friday night, things went a little differently. At least, Quinn thought they did. When the Cheerios thundered onto the field, skipping and flipping in their short red skirts, Sam cheered a little louder from his place on the bench. At their half time show, when Quinn took her familiar, much-loved spot at the top of the pyramid, Sam's twinkling smile met with her eyes, she couldn't help but grin back and feel a little funny thump in her heart and almost lose her balance. It was worth the possibility of Coach Sylvester yelling at her though. Because the look in his green-blue eyes said that "hey" that she had been waiting for.

And later? During the second half? The girls had filed into the area just in between the benches and the field, and were doing some cheers to get the crowd pumped - McKinley was winning, after all, for the first time in a while. Quinn took her place in the middle, grinning from ear to ear. She loved to cheer, honestly, she did. So with her gleaming blonde curls and her shining smile, she looked stunning under the bright lights of the football field, and that didn't go unnoticed by Sam Evans.

"Alright! Let's fight! Not gonna stop until we win tonight!" The girls clapped and cheered, doing their coordinated cheering moves. "Let's go Titans! Alright! Let's fight! Not gonna stop until we win tonight!"

Quinn's eyes didn't leave Sam's, and his didn't leave hers. "Let's fight!" She almost faltered in her perfectly memorizing dance moves. He was smiling. Right at her. And more than that, he was grinning that adorable little half grin. The one that melted her ice queen heart ever so slowly but surely. "Not gonna stop until we win tonight!"

Quinn wasn't going to stop. Not until they won, but rather because she was falling. Falling for real. It was terrifying but she was flying, and not just because she was at the top of the pyramid.

Later that night, Santana confronted her as the girls stretched in their locker room.

"Just because you're head cheerleader doesn't mean you're exempt from Coach's rules or anything," Santana had said snidely, still bitter because she had been knocked from position of head cheerleader after her, uh, summer surgery.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Quinn said, ignoring the other girl's gaze.

"Oh please. You were so having cheer sex with Sam like, the entire game tonight."

Quinn's eyes shot up and met Santana's. "I don't think you know what you're talking about, Santana. And I wouldn't suggest running to Coach or even telling the others about this because I wonder who they'll believe... their favourite head captain, or... you?" She was being bitchy but she didn't care.

She didn't care because she knew that in school on Monday she would smile back at Sam in English, and in the hallways, and in Glee she might even sit next to him for the first time ever. And maybe after next week's game they'd go for ice cream. Not that she'd eat any. Had to abide by Coach's rules, after all.

But she had that hope. And she knew he had it too. The hope for them to be something real, together.