I am venturing off from my Brittana pairings, to write a new pairing that I am growing to love-Quintana!

Quinn strolled through the Lima Park, on a lazy August evening, listening to classical music on her IPod. Most people would laugh if they knew she was listening to classical. The truth was that she found it soothing and found it a perfect soundtrack to the serene setting of nature.

As the trail turned towards the pond, she froze as she recognized very familiar long, dark hair and a slim tan figure sitting on a blanket by the pond. Santana appeared to be writing and drinking Perrier water. s This all seemed very strange to Quinn.

Quinn hesitated and then decided to greet her old friend. She walked up and said softly, "Hey."

Santana snapped her head around, but her face softened when she saw who it was.

"Hey Quinn," she smiled and patted the blanket next to her.

Quinn sat down, as Santana finished a sentence she was writing. She put her pen and her notebook down and looked over at Quinn.

"Want some water," she asked. Quinn nodded, as Santana fished out a plastic cup from her bag.

As they sipped their water, they sat in silence. The silence was not weird, what was weird is that it wasn't uncomfortable.

"How is your summer," Santana asked.

"Quiet," Quinn said softly. "Yours?"

"Lonely. I'm not exactly everyone's favorite person."

"Me either."

The girls sat in a comfortable silence a little longer, until Quinn couldn't hold her curiosity in, any longer.

"Do you still write poetry," Quinn asked.

"Still?"

"Well, I remember in elementary and middle school you wrote beautiful poems."

"You remember that," Santana said scrunching up her forehead. "I didn't think anyone remembered.

"How could I forget, they were amazing," Quinn said softly.

"To answer your question, yes. Although, I am not sure if they are any good at all."

Quinn swatted Santana's arm playfully at the self-doubt.

After a few more minutes of gazing at the pond, Santana opened her notebook. Quinn thought she was returning to writing, until Santana softly began reading.

The Pond by S. Lopez

The waters are murky,

The depth, undiscovered.

My legs grow tired of treading,

I am sinking, into the depths of despair.

"That is all I have so far," Santana said closing her notebook.

Quinn tried to catch her breath, "Brilliant, simply brilliant." Santana blushed.

The two girls sat in silence as the sun set. Santana began to pack up her things. She paused and looked at Quinn.

"Same time, tomorrow?"

Quinn nodded.

As the girls walked their separate ways, each of them felt a feeling they had not felt over most of the summer…..hope.

I hope you liked this first installment. Your feedback would be greatly appreciated.