This is just a small little something I thought up. I'm so happy that Quinn got into Yale, and she's on the independent path. She deserves to be happy. I know New Haven is actually pretty sketchy, but I wanted to make it sound nice.
Home
She watches the snow fall outside, a cup of hot chocolate rests on the table before her. The chair opposite her is empty, and she prefers it that way. She's gone on a few dates the past semester, but never anything serious. She considers them to be merely friendly outings. She's focusing on herself, not the pretty boys who hit on her oh so confidently. She's young. Right now, she's going to be selfish with herself and her education. Plus, if she were on a date, there's no way she'd be enjoying herself this much over a simple hot chocolate. She resolved the minute she arrived to not to take life so seriously, and to roll with the punches.
She watches people walk by, clad in coats, cozy scarfs, and woolly hats. Fairy lights are wrapped around light posts and hang from shop windows. It's truly a winter wonderland this evening as the sun sets.
She can't help but smile. She turns her attention back to the hot chocolate and book in front of her. She hasn't felt this content in a long time. New Haven has been good for her. College has been good for her. She's let go of the petty high school drama, and can finally be herself, and enjoy life. She takes a sip of the chocolate and picks up her book. A postcard slips out of it, and she grins at the sight.
Shelby had been thoughtful enough to send her a Christmas card, with Beth dressed in a frilly white and red dress. She'll be in Lima soon, back home to see everyone. Most importantly, she'll get to see her daughter. She figures getting into Yale and doing relatively well in the drama department proved to Shelby that she's on the right track and not the unhinged psycho she was just a year ago.
Most importantly, though, she had to prove it to herself. And she did. Lima is where she made the best and worst mistakes of her life, and she's ready to move past that and look to the future. Leaving is the best thing she could have ever done. Only she can decide her future, and she wouldn't be held back by her past.
She tucks the card towards the end of the book, as she'll use it as a bookmark later. The barista, a friend from her literature class walks by.
"Hey Quinn, need anything else?" she asks conversationally.
"I'm fine, thanks," she offers a small smile.
The girl leaves and Quinn is left to her book. This is exactly what she needed, what she needs. A town where no one knows her. A university that seems larger than Lima itself. She's surrounded by bright, intelligent, hard working people, and it's enough to make her want to do better. Schoolwork, volunteering, being a member of as many clubs as she can, she'll do it all. She wants to make the best of the next four years.
She was wrong when she wanted to remember the last few months of high school as the best times of her life. No, she wants to remember college as the best times of her life. She's finally able to grow up. She catches the time on her wristwatch and closes the book, not that she was paying much attention anyway. She shoves it into her book bag and tosses on her dark green coat. She slips a gray hat atop her short blonde hair before buttoning the coat and slinging the strap of the bag over her shoulder. She takes the small rolling suitcase by her chair, picking it up.
She moves towards the door, looking over her shoulder to bid farewell.
"Merry Christmas," the barista says.
"Merry Christmas," Quinn smiles. She leaves the coffee shop, stepping into the winter wonderland. Her boots click against the pavement, and she's careful not to trip on the fresh snow. She sticks her arm out, hailing a taxi.
She loves her new life, but as much as she'd love to spend Christmas in New Haven with her new friends in her new town, Quinn Fabray has a flight to catch.
She's going home.
Hopefully this was enjoyable to read. I know it's late (early?) for Christmas, but I just thought it'd be fitting. Please review.