A/N: Hello! This update is REALLY long. I'm not sure, but I think it's the longest chapter I've ever written. It took forever, sorry. But I wanted to make sure it was really good (: You guys better review to tell me what you think, because I worked my butt off for this (;

Disclaimer: I do NOT own Glee! But I do own this fanfiction, yay (:

PLEASE enjoy, favorite, follow, and REVIEW! It really helps!


Chapter Three-Memorable Events

Two weeks from Thursday, a day before the first cheerleading party, was an easy day. Quinn didn't have any classes, besides cheerleading, on Thursdays, so she was planning on studying all day, which was better than walking around campus.

So when she woke up Thursday morning she was ready to have a boring day. Her eyes opened slowly and she groaned at the fact that she was now awake. Then she heard something, and her eyes squeezed shut again in fear.

Santana's not here. She has class this morning. Who was there? "Quinn? Are you awake?" It was Santana, but why was she here? Quinn forced her eyes open, letting out a breath that she hadn't know she was holding.

"Yeah. What're you doing here?" Quinn asked, sitting up slowly before stretching her arms.

"Class was canceled today," Santana answered, coming out of the bathroom. Quinn nodded that she understood. "So, today I'm taking you off campus."

In the over two weeks they'd been here, Quinn had not left campus. Santana had left a couple times, but Quinn insisted that she needed to study, or she had class, during those times.

"Where?" Quinn asked, standing up and trudging over to the bathroom.

"Times Square," Santana answered with a smile. "And then Central Park."

Quinn just nodded. She didn't feel like arguing, and she honestly did really want to leave campus. On Thursdays, they had cheer practice at five o'clock, and it was nine in the morning right now. So they had about eight hours to do whatever they wanted before they had to be at cheer.

Quinn got ready quickly and then Santana dragged her out of their dorm, smiling. "Santana, I can walk by myself," Quinn said, chuckling. Santana rolled her eyes and let go of Quinn's arm as they came to the elevators. The Latina clicked the down button, and they heard the elevator moving behind the doors.

"I can't wait!" Santana exclaimed.

"Haven't you been there already?" Quinn asked, laughing at the girls enthusiasm.

"Yeah, but you haven't, and I'm going to be the first one to take you there," Santana pointed out, sounding proud of herself. Quinn rolled her eyes and the elevator door opened. Kurt stood inside of it, and the two girls stepped in next to him.

"Hey, lady face!" Santana greeted him. Kurt nodded to Santana, and then he eyed Quinn. He had been trying to convince the blonde that Santana was not a good person to hang out with, because she was such a bitch, but Quinn didn't see anything wrong with Santana. She always told Kurt, politely, "It's fine", but lately, he'd been really annoying her.

"Where are you ladies off to?" Kurt finally asked, looking away from Quinn and back at Santana.

"Times Square and Central Park, because blondie here hasn't been to either of them," the Latina exclaimed. Kurt gaped at Quinn.

"How have you been living?" Kurt demanded. Quinn raised her hands in defense. The elevator doors opened and they all stepped out and left the building. Kurt headed towards the bus stop, but Santana pulled Quinn towards the parking lot.

"Where are we going?" Quinn demanded to know. Santana didn't say anything. "S! Santana!"

"Just calm your tits, Q," Santana commanded. The blonde rolled her eyes as Santana led her to a blue sports car parked in the parking lot. She reached into her purse and produced a set of car keys.

"Santana, you don't have a car." Quinn raised an eyebrow at the Latina.

"Now I do," Santana answered with a shrug.

Quinn gaped at her. "You can't steal cars, Santana!"

"You seriously think I stole this?" Santana demanded, rolling her eyes. "My mom gave me the money for it. It's mine."

"Okay, sorry," Quinn said, raising her hands up in defense. Santana unlocked the doors and both girls climbed in. Santana started the car and turned on the radio. As the song started playing quietly, and Santana started driving off campus, Quinn cranked up the volume so that it was blaring loud enough for people to hear it outside of the car.

They were both singing, and Quinn noticed that Santana had a really awesome singing voice, and at some point, she stopped singing to listen to Santana sing along to the radio. She only heard a few lines before Santana noticed and stopped singing.

The Latina smirked at Quinn. "I'm better than you, huh?"

"Are you kidding me?" Quinn demanded. "I'm way better than you!"

"Oh sure you are," Santana agreed sarcastically. She suddenly turned off the radio. "Sing something. Right now, a capella." Quinn searched her mind for a second to think of a good song to sing, and then she began to sing.

"No matter what you say about love,

I keep coming back for more,

Keep my hand in the fire, sooner or later,

I get what I'm asking for!

No matter what you say about life,

I learn every time I bleed,

The truth is a stranger, soul is in danger,

I gotta let my spirit be free!

To admit that I'm wrong,

And then change my mind,

Sorry but I have to move on,

And leave you behind!"

Quinn sang confidently, and she was proud of the way she was sounding.

"I can't waste time so give a moment,

I realize, nothing's broken!

No need to worry about everything I've done,

Live every second like it was my last one!

Don't look back, got a new direction!

I loved you once, needed protection!

You're still a part of everything I do!

You're on my heart, just like a tattoo...

Just like a tattoo,

I'll always have you."

Quinn gave Santana a challenging look, and the Latina glanced away from the road to look at the blonde. "Impressive."

"Better than you," Quinn insisted. Santana shrugged, and Quinn smiled to herself, proud. Soon, Santana parallel parked her car along a sidewalk and climbed out of the car. Quinn followed out the passengers side and they hurried down the sidewalk to Times Square. Quinn gaped at the tall buildings all around her. "Whoa..."

"Amazing, right?" Santana asked. Quinn just nodded.

"I can't believe I haven't been here before. This is my kind of place," Quinn muttered, nodding. Santana smirked.

"I told you," she said, grabbing Quinn's wrist. "Come on, we're going to the gift shop."

They couldn't just go to the gift shop. They went into a bunch of random buildings, stopped to look at signs, and basically ran all over Times Square before they finally got to their desired destination.

Quinn found herself in a shop full of NYC T-shirts, Times Square T-shirt, Times Square snow globes, posters, too many things for Quinn to take in at once. Santana started looking around at stuff, and Quinn did so as well.

The blonde finally found a blue shirt labeled "NYC" in big letters, and she smiled, picturing it on herself. Then she checked the price and sighed. It was thirty dollars, and she didn't feel like spending that much money on a souvenir from Times Square when she lived ten minutes away from it.

"Are you going to buy that?" Santana asked, joining her by the stack of T-shirts. Quinn shook her head.

"It's thirty dollars, and I'm saving for more important things than T-shirts," Quinn muttered.

"Q, don't you have like a... super rich mom?" the Latina demanded. "How do you need to save up for anything?"

"My mom paid for the plane ride here, and the tuition that I hadn't gotten a scholarship for. She gave me money besides that, which she specifically told is me is for food. The money we're earning at the coffee shop is going towards things like a car," Quinn explained. Santana waved her hand like it didn't matter.

"Fine. I'll pay for the shirt," she said.

"What?" Quinn asked. "No! Santana you don't need to buy me anything. I'll just come back when I have money to spend. I mean, we live ten minutes away."

"But it's your first time here! You need a souvenir!" Santana exclaimed, snatching the shirt from Quinn and turning towards the checkout counter.

"No! S! Santana!" Quinn called after her, following her quickly. Quinn was practically chasing her after a few seconds, but Santana was at the counter too fast, paying for the shirt.

"Thank you for coming to Times Square!" said the plump cashier, handing the blue shirt back to Santana, who nodded and turned to face Quinn proudly. Quinn stood with her hands on hips, giving Santana her bitchiest look.

"Whoa, no need to get mad," Santana joked. "All I did was buy you a shirt!"

"A shirt I didn't need!" Quinn exclaimed. "I barely even wanted it, and I didn't want you to pay for it!"

"Well, what if I wanted to pay for it for you?" Santana asked. Neither of them said anything for a moment, and Santana handed the shirt to Quinn, her face a little red, and turned towards the exit. "Well, I already paid for it, so don't try to return it. Let's go, you still have to see Central Park."

Quinn ignored the awkward situation and followed Santana out of the gift shop, looking around at the buildings once again. "Hey, S!"

Santana turned around, back to her normal color. "Yeah?"

"I want a picture of us in Times Square," Quinn decided, pulling out her phone. Santana huffed.

"Why?"

"So I can send it to my friends in Ohio," Quinn said, as if was obvious. Santana nodded, not saying anything, and went to stand by Quinn, who held out her phone to take the picture. Both girls gave their best smile as Quinn snapped the photo. "Okay, we can go now."

They came to Santana's car and climbed once again. They didn't play any music during the fifteen minute drive to Central Park. They were silent as well, and Santana didn't look as happy as she had been before. Quinn eyed the Latina carefully, trying to figure out what was up with her.

Quinn had never been good at helping people. She had been a stuck-up bitch in Ohio, but she seemed to be changing in New York. Quieter, nicer. But she was still a bitch—and she was proud of it. She just wasn't so stuck-up, once she saw all the other people who had more stuff than her.

Even in her nicer state, she still couldn't figure out what was up with Santana, so she just let them sit in silence. As soon as they came to Central Park, Santana drove them down the road to a large meadow area, where people were sitting and hanging out in the grass. The Latina parked the car along the side of the road, her smile back once again.

They left the car, and Santana pointed across the meadow, next to a small clump of trees. "We're going to eat lunch over there."

"We don't have any food," Quinn said to the Latina, raising an eyebrow.

Santana rolled her eyes. "Look, I didn't completely wing what we were going to do today," the brunette huffed out, sounding offended. Quinn laughed, and Santana hinted a smile. She went to the trunk of her car and popped it open, retrieving a picnic basket from it.

"What's that?" Quinn asked.

"Lunch."

They walked across the large meadow, passing groups of families, friends, and kids, to reach the two trees. Santana set down the basket and pulled out a large blanket, spreading it over the area under the trees. Quinn plopped down on it and eyed the picnic basket, wondering what food the Latina had packed for them.

Santana sat down as well and reached into the basket, pulling out the food. Hot dogs. Quinn let out a laugh. "You got a picnic basket to carry hot dogs? Did you buy those when we were in Times Square?"

"Maybe," Santana answered, smiling a little bit and handing a hot dog to the blonde. "Oh, and the picnic basket was mostly for the blanket."

Quinn rolled her eyes and bit into her hot dog, enjoying the taste. It wasn't long before both of their hot dogs were gone, and they just sat there for a few seconds. Quinn wondered if she should ask Santana what had been bothering her. When the silence started feeling too long, she finally asked, "Santana? What was bothering you before?"

Santana hesitated.

"If it was about the shirt thing, it's okay, I should've just said thanks and—"

"It's not the shirt," Santana said quickly. "It's just... you said you were taking a picture to send to your friends in Ohio."

"Yeah... so?"

"I just realized that... well, I've seen you on the phone talking to people from your high school," Santana stated. Quinn nodded slowly, confused, "and lately I've realized that I don't have any friends in LA. I was a bitch and that's the only reason I was 'popular'."

"Santana..." Quinn bit her lip, trying to decide how to say what she wanted to say. "Kurt already told me that."

Santana tilted her head slightly.

"He told me... well, he said that you were popular for all the wrong reasons. He said people called you Satan for a nickname. He told me that I hadn't seen the real side of you and that I should be careful. And for the past two weeks, he's been trying to convince me not to hang out with you," Quinn spilled.

Santana lowered her eyes, and Quinn thought that she glimpsed the glisten of tears in them. "Well, he's not wrong. No one liked me, but I scared them all into making me popular. They all called me Satan, and I pretended like it was just any other nickname, but it hurt. I didn't want them all to see me hurting... I—"

"Santana, calm down," Quinn commanded, but her voice was soft, soothing. She was surprised how soft it had come out, honestly. As before said, she was generally very bad at comforting people. "It doesn't matter who's not your friend over there. What matters is that you have friends here."

"Friend. Not plural," Santana muttered.

"The girls in cheer, they're your friends... except Nicki, but—"

"They're not real friends, Quinn," Santana stated, her voice gaining more confidence as she looked up at the blonde. "You're the only real friend I have."

Quinn could feel her heart racing in her chest, but she didn't know why. It reminded her of that first day of classes, when they had both been undressing in the same room, and Quinn had been oddly aware about it. Her heart had been beating almost this hard...

"O-oh," she stuttered out. What the hell, Fabray? Her blue eyes met Santana's brown eyes, and she felt her knees weaken. Thank goodness she was sitting down. What's wrong with me?

Santana immediately looked down and sat back against a tree. Another awkward moment. Quinn took out her phone and looked at the time. It was about noon, so they had five hours before they had to be at cheerleading, dressed and ready to practice.

Bored, and trying to take away the awkwardness, Quinn opened the camera on her smart-phone and tried to secretly snap a photo of Santana, who's eyes were still narrowed. However, she had forgot to turn off her sound, and a loud camera noise went off. Alert, brown eyes snapped up to Quinn's phone.

"Q!" Santana exclaimed. Quinn laughed and jumped up as Santana dived for the phone. "Oh it's on Fabray!"

The Latina pulled out her own phone and started snapping random pictures of Quinn. Quinn did the same thing, and then, at some point, Santana lunged at her, knocking the blonde over and causing her phone to go flying into the grass somewhere.

Quinn laughed and pulled herself up, running away from Santana, who kept snapping pictures of her. She wore herself out quickly, though, and she finally just collapsed in the soft grass. Santana stopped above her, still snapping photos with her phone.

"Santana, you win," Quinn breathed out, laughing. "The picture wasn't that bad anyway."

"Oh really?" the Latina demanded. "Let me see it."

Quinn reached to her pocket, and then remembered that her phone had gone flying. "Crap! It fell!"

Santana extended a hand to Quinn, and the blonde took it gratefully. As Santana pulled her up, Quinn couldn't help but notice how soft the brunette's hands were. Pushing the thought away, Quinn took a deep breath. They headed back to their spot, looking in the grass for Quinn's phone. Finally, Santana found it. "Thank goodness. Give it here."

But Santana had to look at the pictures first. "Oh god, these are terrible!" she exclaimed.

"Come on, you have bad ones of me too. Just give me the phone," Quinn commanded. Santana didn't even acknowledge the blonde. Said blonde rolled her eyes and lunged at the brunette, knocking her down and landing on top of her, causing them both to scream at the top of their lungs.

They wrestled on the ground for a few moments before Quinn could wrench her phone from Santana's steel grip. Then they lay there for a second, breathing heavily, and the blonde realized that their bodies were pressed against each other. Not wanting to create anymore awkward, embarrassing moments, she didn't move.

Once their breaths were back to normal, Santana suggested, "Maybe we should pack up the blanket now."

"Yeah," Quinn agreed, standing up and then helping Santana up. Once again, she recognized how soft the tan hands were, and she felt the sudden urge to take the hand again. Obviously, she resisted that urge, seeing as it was so random and weird.

Santana went over to the picnic basket and picked up the blanket, shoving it hastily into the basket. "Okay, we can head back to the car."

"One day, I'm going to have an apartment and it's going to be in between Central Park and Times Square," Quinn decided, smiling as she looked around at the meadow once again. They both started towards the car and Santana nodded.

"I think I might move back to LA after college," the Latina admitted. Quinn's eyes seemed to grow in size.

"What?" she demanded, shocked. "You can't leave New York after college!"

Santana just shrugged, and Quinn sighed and shook her head. They arrived at the car and Santana tossed the picnic basket in the back before they both got in the car to drive back.

The next day, Quinn had two classes and so did Santana, plus cheerleading. However, they were looking forward to the cheerleader's party that night.

In the morning, Quinn went to her first class, followed by having pizza for lunch and then going to another class. Now, it was two in the afternoon and she had to go back to the dorm to get changed for cheer practice.

Somehow, she hadn't seen Kurt all day, and she was kind of glad. After talking to Santana the day before, she didn't want to hear Kurt go on again about how she should try to avoid Santana.

So when she got in the elevator to go up to the dorm, and stood inside of it waiting for the door to closed, she was very disappointed to see Kurt run in just before the doors could shut. "Oh! Hey, Quinn!"

"Hi," Quinn said quietly.

"How was your day with Santana yesterday?" Kurt looked at her pointedly.

"It was great, thanks for asking," Quinn snapped, glaring at him. Kurt didn't seem to take the hint.

"Quinn, you know that I don't think you and Santana should hang out so much. She's a horrible person, she—"

"Would you stop already?" Quinn demanded, sounding exasperated, since she was. She was tired of listening to this. "I don't care how Santana acts around you or people in LA or anyone. What matters to me is how she treats me, and I'm very glad to have her as my friend. Plus, whether you were aware or not, I'm not in high school anymore. I'm not looking for drama, and I can judge who is a good person and who isn't. Okay?"

The elevator doors opened at the third floor, and Quinn marched out without letting Kurt even answer her. However, as she walked away, she heard Kurt yell after her, "You're only turning into her, Quinn!"

God! I'm not turning into anyone! Quinn felt her anger building up. It was all stored up from listening to Kurt, from listening to everyone, and being so quiet all of the time. It was only a matter of time before it would come out.

She opened the door to the dorm and slammed it behind her, causing Santana, who was already back, to jump. "Whoa, someone's mad."

"I'm pissed at Kurt," Quinn growled, walking up next to her bed and taking off her shirt so that she could change into her cheer uniform.

"What happened?" Santana asked. Quinn faced her, pulling off her pants, and she thought she saw the Latina's gaze move over her whole body. The blonde ignored what she thought she'd seen.

"He started his almost daily rant about how I should stay away from you, and I practically started yelling at him and... ugh!" Quinn exclaimed, slipping on her skirt.

"Why even stand up for me?" Santana asked, shrugging. "You don't need to."

Quinn gaped at her. "Look, Santana, like you said yesterday, we're real friends. Real friends stick up for each other, and that's what I did."

"Okay, well still, I didn't picture you yelling at him," the brunette muttered. Quinn sighed.

"Remember when we met? And I told you that I was a bitch?" she asked. Santana nodded that she remembered. "You probably didn't believe me, because ever since I got to New York, I'm just a different person. Most of the time, I don't mind it much, but the bitch has to come out some times."

Santana laughed at that and nodded. "Well, thanks."

"No problem," Quinn returned, feeling calmer now. She slipped on her top and tied up her hair. "Let's go."

Cheer practice was as normal as ever, except when they were in the locker room grabbing their stuff, Nicki made an announcement. "You guys! You are all invited to our party tonight! It's off campus a ways, at my house!"

"Her house?" Quinn whispered to Santana.

The Latina nodded. "I told you, she moved here. She probably still lives with her parents." Quinn nodded that she understood.

"Oh and don't worry, there will be plenty of guys there," one of the other girls assured them, a knowing smile on her face. The others girls laughed, and then they started to leave.

"You're going?" Santana asked Quinn, who nodded. "Okay, I'll go too."

Luckily, the didn't see Kurt on the way to the dorm. Once in their dorm, they changed into tight dresses and let their hair down. They left the dorm again and Santana drove them off campus and down to where Nicki's house was. Nicki had texted the exact address to everyone on the squad, so they knew exactly where to go.

It was barely five-thirty, but people were already there and the music was already blaring loudly. "This looks like a club," Quinn stated as she looked at the house in front of her.

"I'm not surprised. Come on," Santana said as they got out of the car, heading into the house. The lights were all off except for colored lights around the house. They went outside to see a huge, covered dance floor. There were speakers everywhere, blaring music, and there was a bar to the right.

"Won't her parents get in trouble for letting us all drink at their house?" Quinn asked.

"Q, do you really think her parents know about this?" Santana asked her seriously. The blonde shrugged and they made their way over to the bar and approached the bar tender. Quinn got a margarita, and Santana took an ice cold beer.

They walked around the party, talking to cheerleaders, watching others dance, but not really participating much. Santana eventually turned to Quinn, "I'm going to dance." Quinn didn't want to dance, so she just nodded and watched the Latina step under onto the dance floor and start to dance.

Quinn leaned against the outside brick wall of the house and watched them all dance, sipping her drink. A new song started playing.

Shorty have them apple bottom jeans (jeans)

Boots with fur (The fur!)

And the whole club was looking at her!

She hit the floor! (She hit the floor!)

Next thing you know, shorty got low, low, low, low, low, low, low, low...

Them baggy sweat pants,

And the Reebok's with the straps (with the straps),

She turned around and gave that big booty a slap!

Hey!

She hit the floor! (She hit the floor!)

Next thing you know,

Shorty got low, low, low, low, low, low, low, low...

Quinn found herself staring at Santana as she danced. She'd grabbed a guy to dance with, and they were doing dirty kind of dances. Quinn had never really found dirty dancing a very appealing idea, but as she watched Santana and that guy, she felt a tingling feeling coming from between her legs.

Oh god.

Quinn stared until the song was over, watching the Latina touch all over some random guy. When the next song started, Quinn decided that maybe she was only tingling there because she wanted to dance. Maybe. Unlikely.

The blond hurried over to where Santana was, and the brunette turned away from the guy, who looked really disappointed. Good. Wait... why is that good? Quinn shook her head slightly, trying to remove any strange thoughts from her mind.

The next song started.

Me not working hard?

Yeah right, picture that with a Kodak,

Or better yet, go to Times Square,

Take a picture of me with a Kodak.

Took my life from negative to positive,

I just want y'all to know that,

And tonight, let's enjoy life.

Pit-bull, Nayer, Ne-Yo!

Tonight! I will love, love you tonight!

Give you everything tonight!

For all we know! We might not get tomorrow,

Let's do it tonight!

Don't care what they say,

All the games they play,

Nothing is enough,

Till they handle love.

I want you tonight,

I want you today,

I want you tonight!

Grab somebody sexy, tell 'em hey!

Give me everything tonight!

Santana grabbed Quinn's wrist and pulled her closer to her. "Hey," she said with a wink. Quinn felt her heart racing and Santana started dancing to the song. Quinn was surprised to find herself dancing as well. She, at some point, was turned around and her back was pressed against Santana's breasts.

Her heart raced faster than she'd ever felt it race before. Santana was grinding on her. Trying to ignore her weak knees as she danced with Santana, she focused on the part of the song that was playing now.

Excuse me,

But I might drink a little more than I should, tonight,

And I might take you home with me if I could, tonight,

Cause baby I'ma make you feel so good, tonight,

Cause we might not get tomorrow!

That part of the song didn't really help Quinn calm down at all.

Don't care what they say,

All the games they play,

Nothing is enough,

Till they handle love.

I want you tonight,

I want you today,

I want you tonight!

Grab somebody sexy, tell 'em hey!

Give me everything tonight!

Santana was now in front of Quinn, facing her, instead of the previous position they'd been in. She leaned very close to Quinn's ear and whispered, "Hey." Quinn gulped as she realized that the tingling sensation in between her legs was now burning, and her knees felt like they would fail her any second now. She felt like she should go sit down.

But she was enjoying this too much to stop.

They danced more, and at some point, Quinn found her leg slipping in between Santana's. She heard Santana moan slightly. This was not good. They were at a public party.

Quinn immediately pulled away and stumbled back. Santana looked alert as well, also noticing to what level their dancing had gone. Luckily, no one seemed to have been paying attention to them.

The blonde hurried out of the group of people to where she'd left her drink. Santana followed her, but neither of them said anything about what had just happened. Then, Nicki ran up to them, looking wasted. "Hey girls," she greeted them, her words slurred together. "You wanna take some uh shots?"

"I don't think you need anymore, Nicki," Santana told her with a chuckle. Nicki turned to her angrily.

"I'm not drunk you bitch!" she yelled in a barely understandable way. Santana and Quinn exchanged amused glances at the wasted girl in front of them. They were amused... that is until Nicki took a swing at Santana, who backed away immediately. Quinn's eyes were wide.

"Did you just try to punch me?" Santana yelled at the other girl.

"I dunno!" Nicki yelled back, sounding confused, but angry at the same time.

"It's on!" Santana shouted, stepping towards her. Quinn immediately jumped between the two. "Quinn, move!"

"Santana, she's drunk," Quinn said firmly. Santana stopped trying to get to the drunken girl.

"Fine. Come on Quinn, we're leaving," Santana informed her. The blonde followed her back into the house, and then out the front door and to Santana's car.

"Are we driving?" Quinn asked. Santana raised an eyebrow at Quinn.

"I only drank one beer."

"Let me drive. I barely drank a few sips of my margarita," the blonde suggested. Santana nodded and got in on the passenger side. Quinn got in the driver's side and took Santana's keys to drive them back to campus and back to the dorm.

They didn't really talk much as they got back to their dorm, changed and crashed in their separate beds. That didn't meant that they were thoughtless as well. Quinn couldn't stop thinking about her dance with Santana. Grab somebody sexy, tell them hey... Quinn shivered and pulled the blanket tighter around her.

Suddenly, Santana spoke from her bed. "Quinn, I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Quinn answered easily. She would be lying if she said she hadn't enjoyed dancing with Santana.

"But we almost—"

"But we didn't. There was nothing wrong with dancing together, Santana. There's nothing for you to be sorry about. It was fun," Quinn told Santana. She heard the Latina try to say something, but it sounded like she couldn't get any words out. Quinn smiled proudly to herself as she drifted off to sleep. She was trying new things.


Trying new things, hmm I wonder where that's going ;-) Hehe. Okay, songs... uh, first one was Tattoo by Jordin Sparks... second one was Low by Flo Rida. Last one was Give Me Everything by Pitbull (: I hope you guys liked this chapter and all the stuff it contained within it. (:

Please review! Also follow me on Twitter and tweet me about my fanfictions for a SHOUTOUT! BrittzandTana #PleaseIWillLoveYouForever