Room 317, Friday Afternoon
Quinn stopped by her room to change between leadership class and the student council meeting. She idly checked her messages as she did, realizing she had one from Sue Sylvester telling her to call. Now.
It had been a long time since Quinn was head cheerleader, but she still obeyed orders from Ms. Sylvester in an almost Pavlovian way. She hit redial.
"Let me cut to the chase," Sue said as soon as she picked up. "Q, what were you going to do with yourself this summer?"
"I hadn’t decided," Quinn said, wondering what this was leading up to. "I have my job at the hotel here, and there’s my boyfriend. But really I don’t need to be anyplace until the end of August."
Back in Ohio, Sue made a buzzing noise into the phone. "Interesting, but wrong. I need an assistant coach for the cheer camp for incoming freshmen this summer. You’re it."
"And if I don’t want to?" Quinn wondered, though she realized she was way, way too happy about it on the inside to end up saying no. "It’s been a really long time since I cheered. Get Santana Lopez or that Becky girl."
"You need someone you can trust when you have a bun in the oven," Sue said. "Yes, I’m working on the miracle of motherhood. I can’t have an assistant coach who would sell me out for a glass of kale juice and a new scrunchy, and either of those girls would. You, Quinn, are the kind of cheerleader a woman wants around when ---"
"Hold on," Quinn said, managing to stay classy enough not to ask whose uterus the coach was using. "You’re really pregnant?" Okay, so Brittany had mentioned it, but Brittany also swore she’d been elected class president because she made unicorn posters. Quinn regarded her as entertaining but not reliable.
"Surprised you hadn’t heard," the coach said. "I figured the world needed a mini-Sue in the next generation. Anyhow, I need an assistant coach to properly terrorize the fresh meat, I want you, will" - and here she named a totally ridiculous figure - "be enough to get your tush back to Lima after graduation?"
The thing was, Quinn did need the money. Her parents and a few student loans could cover Yale, but that didn’t mean the bank of mom and dad would hold out forever. And on top of that, this was likely her last chance to cheer as more than a hobby. She swallowed. "I think I can make it," she said coolly.
"Excellent. I never doubted it."
Quinn was going to be wondering what had just happened for a while after she hung up.
[OOC: Cracked door, open post!]
It had been a long time since Quinn was head cheerleader, but she still obeyed orders from Ms. Sylvester in an almost Pavlovian way. She hit redial.
"Let me cut to the chase," Sue said as soon as she picked up. "Q, what were you going to do with yourself this summer?"
"I hadn’t decided," Quinn said, wondering what this was leading up to. "I have my job at the hotel here, and there’s my boyfriend. But really I don’t need to be anyplace until the end of August."
Back in Ohio, Sue made a buzzing noise into the phone. "Interesting, but wrong. I need an assistant coach for the cheer camp for incoming freshmen this summer. You’re it."
"And if I don’t want to?" Quinn wondered, though she realized she was way, way too happy about it on the inside to end up saying no. "It’s been a really long time since I cheered. Get Santana Lopez or that Becky girl."
"You need someone you can trust when you have a bun in the oven," Sue said. "Yes, I’m working on the miracle of motherhood. I can’t have an assistant coach who would sell me out for a glass of kale juice and a new scrunchy, and either of those girls would. You, Quinn, are the kind of cheerleader a woman wants around when ---"
"Hold on," Quinn said, managing to stay classy enough not to ask whose uterus the coach was using. "You’re really pregnant?" Okay, so Brittany had mentioned it, but Brittany also swore she’d been elected class president because she made unicorn posters. Quinn regarded her as entertaining but not reliable.
"Surprised you hadn’t heard," the coach said. "I figured the world needed a mini-Sue in the next generation. Anyhow, I need an assistant coach to properly terrorize the fresh meat, I want you, will" - and here she named a totally ridiculous figure - "be enough to get your tush back to Lima after graduation?"
The thing was, Quinn did need the money. Her parents and a few student loans could cover Yale, but that didn’t mean the bank of mom and dad would hold out forever. And on top of that, this was likely her last chance to cheer as more than a hobby. She swallowed. "I think I can make it," she said coolly.
"Excellent. I never doubted it."
Quinn was going to be wondering what had just happened for a while after she hung up.
[OOC: Cracked door, open post!]