A/N: First glee fic ever and of course it's Quinntana. Just thought of it and it sounded good in my head, sooo... Here it goes. It's really AU and it probably won't be too long. I'm basically just borrowing the characters and adding a completely irrelevant plot.

Disclaimer: I sadly don't own Glee. Or Quinn. Or Santanna. Although I really wish I did own Santanna. Just borrowing them for this story.

Enjoy.

November 27th

Dear, dear diary, I want to tell my secrets, 'cause you're the only one that I know who'll keep them. Dear, dear diary, I want to tell my secrets... I've been a bad, bad girl.

That's from a P!NK song. It's called Dear Diary or something.

It's accurate enough.

Well, anyway...

I could tell you that I hate her.

I could try to convince myself that I hate her.

I could also tell you that the sky is purple and the grass is pink and waste my time by trying to convince you that fairytales are real. But of course, all of that would be stupid bullshit.

Just because somebody says something, doesn't make it true.

Why would I even bother annoying her if I didn't even like her?

I guess It was kind of like a game at first.

A game to see how uncomfortable I could make her until she snapped at me.

To be honest, it never took long to piss that girl off.

Just a few innocent could-be-taken-as-being-sexual comments, and she looked like she was ready to pounce on me. And not the good, I-wanna-fuck-you pounce. I'm talking about the say-one-more-word-and-I'll-stick-a-spoon-in-your-eye type of pounce.

I don't exactly know why I started screwing with her though.

Sure, it was an amusing to pass the time, but that isn't really a good excuse.

Oh, this is besides the point, but the only reason I started this stupid journal was because I needed a place to keep my thoughts. Lately, my mind was overflowing with them.

I'm just not the girl you'd usually see scribbling away in a leather bound journal on a park bench. And yet, here I am.

Well, another reason is, my anger management counselor thinks it'll "help." Apparently whenever I feel angry, I'm suppose to write about the "experience."

What the hell is there to write about? You don't write anger, you just feel it.

I'm not angry now though or whatever. I'm just bored.

And, I'm really hoping the counselor dude won't try to read this. Things'll get awkward.

But, whatever. I'll go along with it.

Anyway, I don't usually keep diaries, but I guess now's a good a time as any to start. I don't get how girls can to this every day though. It's stupid. I mean, in a few years, I'll probably read this over and realize that I just sound like an idiot.

No, screw that. I'll probably end up losing it before I get all old. So, never mind. Maybe it actually is a good idea. It's a good place to write things I wouldn't tell anyone. Plus, it keeps me partially entertained when blondie isn't around.

Oh, right, I was gonna write about her. Just in case I do actually save this 'til I'm all old and crusty, I wanna have some memories of when I could move around without a walker.

We were been friends for a damn long time. Since we were babies up until the start of ninth grade. We used to live next to each other until my parents got divorced and I moved in with my mama on the opposite side of town.

When we got to high school, we drifted apart. Even when we were on the Cheerios together, we pretty much avoided each other.

It was like that for two years.

But now, we're over a quarter into our junior year and to tell you the truth, I miss her. I'd never admit it out loud though, of course.

So, maybe I started annoying her because I thought it was a quick and easy way to sneak back into her life. In my defense, it worked pretty well.

See, I always had some sort of mission set up for myself. It keeps things interesting and I don't get bored as often 'cause a plan's always floating around my brain.

I mean, since I quit the Cheerios, I needed something else to do with my time. So I set up mini goals for myself.

Well, whatever the reason, we were almost kind of friends again.

Shit, gotta go. The blonde's walking in my direction.

I'll write more later or something.

A/N: I'm only continuing this if you guys like the idea. If you do, chapters will obviously contain multiple diary entries and will be longer. This was sort of like a prologue. With that being said, review maybe? :3