A week ago, back when Quinn and Darcy were reading Karl's journal, Quinn had stumbled across a very disturbing part. It was just after the entry during which Karl sees Darcy for the first time. In the entry just following it, Karl says something that, to say the very least, made Quinn really uncomfortable:

"I saw her again today. Yeah. I really want to talk to her. I found her profile on the internet. She's a huge fan of detective stories. She's probably single, seeing that she's the nerdy type. I should go for it. It should be easy to get her to like me."

During that time, Quinn was already feeling quite unsettled, though he kept the reason to himself. Darcy had then told him to just skip the part he had read and move to the next. That was not something he could read out loud to her. The last sentence would definitely hurt her. Quinn looked further down the page.

"She's always wearing a hoodie and bagged jeans. Makes it kind of hard for me to see what her body looks like. I can tell she's pretty skinny, which is already surprising. Most nerds are fat as fuck. Maybe she's the suicidal type of nerd, the type that cuts and shit. Would be cool to see what she'd wear in the summer, then I could see if she had those scars on her arms. But then again maybe she's the type to cut in her inner thighs. That'd also be an interesting sight."

At that point, Quinn was utterly outraged at his friend. How could he think like that about someone? Let alone someone he seemed to like, someone who blushed at the mere mention of Karl's name? It was then that Darcy asked him if he was okay, and that they could continue some other time. Evidently, he took her up on her offer and rushed out of the room. Once he returned to his place, he continued reading the journal, ignoring all his friends who were asking him for this favor or that, or telling him to join in on something.

"Today I told Quinn about Darcy. He seemed surprised that she was my type. I mean, it is pretty surprising, isn't it? Who would like a girl like that? But then again I couldn't help it. Something about her is attracting me like crazy... It's not necessarily romantic, more like the kind of attraction a scientist would have towards a test subject, you know? Like I wanna dissect her, and see what's inside. Well, I wouldn't mind going inside either, haha. She'd probably be easy to please in bed. She screams 'virgin' just by breathing. I haven't fucked in a while either, so I am more horny lately."

Quinn slammed the journal shut, furious. Who was this person? Was this truly Karl? Because if they are the same person, Quinn thought, then he probably didn't know Karl at all. How could he think like that about her? A girl so pure and already so hurt? Anyone could tell that she was already a damaged person. Quinn had had a hunch from the very first time he talked to her, and grew certain after the incident that followed right after. He guessed she had been bullied pretty bad at some point, and had grown to be the kind of person who hid underneath a shell of self-hatred. Her words about herself only confirmed this further. 'I mean, how else could you see me? There is nothing good about me, anyway,' she had said. Quinn thought it utterly tragic. Reading this, he regretted not correcting her perception of herself. He should have told her how interesting of a person he thought she was, how much prettier she would actually be if she only took the time to occasionally brush her hair, and how much he would like to touch her....? Quinn was surprised at his own thoughts. Deciding to ignore it, he reopened the journal and continued reading:

"I found out what room she lives in. it's room 50. In the shitty section of the girls' dorm, obviously. Her life must really suck to be thrown in room 50. I found a cool location where I can see her window without her seeing me. I caught a glimpse of her changing once! Even though I was pretty far I could still see that she had an amazing rack. Would love to fon_"

Again, Quinn slammed it shut. He placed his hands on his forehead, his beige hair strands curtailing his slim fingers. Karl is a perverted cunt, Quinn was now certain. How he had managed to hide it from him all this time, he did not know. Even when he talked to him about Darcy, he always described her in such pure terms, so much so that you'd almost think his attraction towards her was platonic. But this.... this was fucked up. Quinn did not know what to do. Reading this, he almost didn't feel like finding Karl anymore. He almost wished him to be actually dead in a ditch somewhere. This sudden hatred he felt unsettled him. While he resented Karl for thinking in such a manner about Darcy, he was still his friend. It did not make any of the moments the two shared any less genuine. So how could wish his friend to be dead just because he was jealous? Jealous? I am jealous? Quinn was again taken by surprise by his own feelings. No, no, it couldn't be. Not only did he suddenly resent his closest friend because he was a little fucked up, (well, really fucked up,) but he also liked the same girl that same friend had been crushing on for ages? Nah, hell no. Quinn threw the journal away from him. There was no way that was happening. He was just a little confused because of his sympathy towards Darcy, and had somehow mistaken it for jealously. He wasn't jealous. He wasn't jealous when she seemed so happy to know that Karl had written about her in his journal. He wasn't jealous when she told him that she had stayed up all night reading Karl's works. Why would he be? He barely knew her in the first place. Yes, Quinn thought while finally getting up; that was impossible. He put on his leather jacket and called Adam.

"Yo. You guys still there? ... yeah, cool I am on my way."

That night, Quinn had gotten so drunk he forgot all about Karl, and all about Darcy. When he woke up, he was naked, and there was a girl getting dressed next to him. He had no idea who she was, or where he was. They did not talk, either. They just glanced at each other, like two strangers accidentally making eye contact in the street before each goes on their way. Starting that day, Quinn started avoiding Darcy. He never asked himself why he did, because he hated to hear the answer. So he simply chose not to ask anything at all. In fact, it was not only Darcy that he began avoiding, but himself as well. He tried everything he could to have no time alone with himself, or with her. Karl can suck my dick. He wasn't going to think about anything or anyone. For that week, he would get wasted every night, would pick up the girls that looked the least like Darcy, would immediately change any topic that remotely related to her or to Karl. One of those nights, he got so drunk, that he urinated on Karl's Journal. The following morning, he cussed at himself for it. With gloves on, he put it on the window pane to dry under the sun, and then cleaned the spot at least ten times. During another night, he had been in the pool as usual, both drunk and high, and could not even see straight. One of his friends, who had been sober, told him in the following day that he had started crying out of nowhere and saying he hated himself. The strangest part was that a lot of people started crying too, his friend added. It was an overall really strange night. He too, although sober, began crying. Quinn had decided to pretend that night never happened.

The hangovers were quite annoying. They made the weight of existence even heavier each morning, and the image of Darcy more vivid. His head was throbbing terribly when he spotted Darcy looking at him from afar. He instantly turned away, heart racing. She was probably really angry at him, but, what could he do? One girl in the group made a comment about a movie that he happened to have seen, and he instantly jumped at the chance to talk about it. And then the incident happened, and Darcy came and sat next to him. She was visibly agitated. She seemed terrified of something, and kept looking behind her. He asked her what was wrong but she didn't seem to hear him at all. She then wrote him the message saying that she was being followed, and Quinn immediately assumed the worst. That's when he decided to take her back to her place, but she fainted halfway, so he took her to his room instead. He could have placed her on Karl's bed, which was conveniently tidy, but he decided to rest her on his, just out of spite. He placed a chair in front of her, and watched her mumble incomprehensible words until she woke up, frightened. Still half-conscious, she got up and walked to the couch and sat there. Quinn did not waste any time to place his blanket on her back. He also poured her some water and offered her the cup. She stared at it blankly, and he had to fix her hands around the cup himself. Her hands were strikingly cold, which made him all the more worried. He left her to go make some hot chocolate, before he heard her stirring. He instantly came back, and she had looked at him.