Chapter 1.8 - Secrets (Part 1)

The Hearst students were well in to their second and final year of school. Although Quinn and Kaz were still making sure to maintain their grade point average, they had mutually come to the conclusion that they were going to fry their brains if they didn't give themselves some time off to crash random parties, watch movies or simply sit around and relax.

It was late Sunday afternoon and Kaz was absorbed in an assignment on her laptop. The loud clacking of the keys had been disrupting Quinn's train of thought for almost an hour and she was about to throttle Kaz. As if her friend had read her mind, Kaz stood up and walked over to join Quinn on her bed.

"Oh my God! I was about to come over there and tie your wrists together! Clickity-fucking-clack!" Quinn rolled her eyes with exasperation. 

"You know I could have kept on typing with both hands behind my back anyway, right?" replied Kaz, ignoring Quinn's annoyance and giving her a wink. "I'm tricky like that."

Quinn expertly scrutinized her friend before deciding that it was now or never. "So listen..." she paused until she had Kaz's full attention. "I've been wanting to ask you something for a while now and I figured you'd tell me yourself...but you haven't. So I'm just going to ask." Kaz gave her a funny look but didn't say anything. Quinn decided to push forward despite the fact that Kaz remained abnormally silent. She had rehearsed this speech in her head about three dozen times but had yet to find the courage to say anything about it. 

"So one day I overheard a phone conversation between you and...well, that's just it. I don't know. But you sounded pretty pissed off and I -" Quinn felt all of her carefully planned words fail her as she fumbled to express herself. On the one hand, she didn't want to pry, but on the other hand, she felt like she and Kaz were close enough to be sharing stuff like angry, whispered phone calls with mysterious strangers. Or at least I think we are..." Quinn thought with a hint of doubt.

Sometimes Quinn wished it was as easy to express her feelings as it was to take a photo that represented those same emotions. She was slowly learning from Kaz how to be more open, however if given the choice at this moment, Quinn would have preferred to shove a stackful of photos at Kaz and let her friend figure out what they meant on her own.

"So..." she paused again before letting loose a barrage of questions. "Who was it? What was it about? Why were you so angry? And why didn't you tell me about it when you were so clearly upset?"  

Kaz's lips curved in such a way as to convey both amusement and a tinge of regret. "You're right Quinn. I probably should have explained it at the time but I was so angry that I guess I've just needed to process it." Kaz paused and gnawed on her lower lip.

"Okay," she said finally. "The short version is that I was talking to my parents. Well, specifically my father, but really, he was speaking for both of them."

Apparently, neither of Kaz's parents had supported her desire to go to university to become an artist. They felt it was a waste of their hard-earned money and considered painting to be a hobby and not professional career path. By the time Kaz was fourteen, she had realized that her parents had no intention of helping her financially if she were to apply to a college art program. Kaz, therefore, had spent the bulk of her teen years working a part time job at a spa so that she could afford to come to Hearst, just in case her parents never changed their minds, which they had not.

"It's my dream!" she said fervently. "How can they tell me that I should be working nine-to-five in some soul-sucking office job when I would rather die than give up painting!" Quinn noticed that Kaz's eyes were shiny with unshed tears and so she grabbed at her friend's hand and clutched it firmly between her own. Kaz squeezed back and continued. "My family...well...we have money. And my parents expect me to do their bidding or else..." And here Kaz paused again but this time pulled her hand from Quinn and rested her arms in a protective gesture across her chest, as though she were giving herself a hug. 

"Or else...?" Quinn asked softly.

"Or else I'm cut off." Kaz replied flatly. "Which, apparently, I am." She sighed and waved a wisp of blue hair away from her tear-stung eyes. "It's not even about the money," she continued. "It's about the complete and utter lack of respect and support. It's not like I'll have nowhere to go when I move back to St. Claire" she said, not noticing Quinn's brief wince. "I can live with my friend Zara. It just feels like shit, like I've been abandoned."

Quinn, who understood exactly what it felt like to be abandoned cringed inwardly while simultaneously feeling feeling a swell of compassion for Kaz.

Kaz looked over at Quinn at the same time as Quinn looked over at her and they both smiled at each other as a wayward tear finally escaped from Kaz's left eye. Quinn felt a surge of pain grasp at her heart when she saw how vulnerable Kaz looked as the solitary tear made its way down her cheek. Quinn could suddenly imagine her friend as a little girl, having not yet mastered the art of controlling her every facial gesture.

"So I'm fine, really," Kaz insisted. "I'm just angry. And hurt. And," she whispered confessionally, "to be honest, I'm a little bit shocked. I truly thought that once they saw how much I love painting and how good I am that they would get behind me. Maybe even help to invest in my first gallery..." She trailed off for a moment and absently picked at a fingernail. "Okay, so maybe it's a little bit about the money too. But maybe that's just me being a spoiled brat!" she said laughingly, as she wiped at her cheek. The old Kaz, both tearless and in control was present once more.

Quinn's mind was whirling in a dozen different directions. As she folded her own arms over her chest she allowed herself to really think about what she would do at the end of the term when they had both graduated. On the one hand, she could not imagine moving to a Kaz-free city. Their relationship was the first one Quinn had ever experienced where she felt that she not only had a voice but was constantly being challenged to both find it and use it. Plus Kaz was intelligent, fun, creative and had a way with people that not only inspired Quinn but made her consider her own life differently. On the whole, if destiny had not thrown the girls together, Quinn wondered if she might not have have spent the last one and a half years simply camped out alone with her face in her books.

She leaned over and hugged Kaz after they both realized that it was well past eleven o' clock. "Thanks for sharing all of that with me" Quinn said. "For what it's worth, I know that whether your parents come around or not, you're going to be a super successful painter. It's totally obvious!" 

Kaz's cheeks turned slightly pink and she smiled lopsidedly at Quinn. "Goodnight Q." And after a brief pause, "Thanks for listening."

"Goodnight Kaz. Anytime."

Half an hour later Quinn tried to burrow deeper in to the comforter, as if the name of the object itself would somehow manage to relive her of the guilt and worry that had been semi-consciously nagging at her all evening.

As usual, she could hear Kaz's soft snoring from across the room, even though the light was still on and Quinn was restlessly tossing and turning. She knew she would have to eventually tell Kaz about her fear of moving to St. Claire. And why. After all, her best friend had trusted her with a secret, even if it had been somewhat drawn out of her. Quinn, however, had very little doubt that Kaz would have shared her story about her parents sooner or later.

As she flopped back over to her left side and somewhat viciously punched at her pillow to fluff it up, Quinn wondered just how big a deal her secret really was... It had been years since she had even had any contact with her cousin. And certainly those years had treated them differently, she thought with a touch of bitterness. But it wasn't the difference in their circumstances that upset Quinn so much, but more specifically the fact that her cousin had allowed so much time to pass without even a phone call.

And then there was the anger and the betrayal. Not to mention the sting of abandonment. Quinn clenched her fists when she thought about that. 

St. Claire might be a big city, but Quinn wasn't altogether positive that it was big enough for the both of them.

She sighed as she gave up twisting in her sheets. It was going to be a long night.