“Hey back.” Quinn glances at a tall slim brunette over her glass of soda. She has never really had a palate for alcohol, or maybe she’s just still afraid of Coach Sylvester who didn’t approve any spirits. As if she’s still in high school. Soo stupid.
“What are you having?” the girl asks. Can she read thoughts?
“A soda. Why?”
“Just wondering what your lips will taste like when we kiss.”
Quinn smirks and scans the girl’s face as if she’s just seen her. Those lips are kind of hot. “Would you like a drink, too?”
“Nah. Let’s get down to business, if you know what I mean?”
“Um. Do you want to talk first?”
Ugh. “Need some oral stimulation, huh?” Santana makes a chitchat sign.
Quinn chuckles. “Kind of. I’m Quinn.”
“Where are you from?”
Santana pretends to snort.
“What?” Quinn arches a brow.
“Who do you picture when you kiss?”
For a moment Quinn’s eyes open wide. She wants to snap “None of your business”, but says “Whoever I’m with?” instead.
“No, really. When you shut those beautiful eyes, who will you be thinking about?”
Quinn licks her lips uncomfortably. Suddenly she knows exactly whom she’ll be picturing. “Just someone from high school.”
“Cool. What was she like? It’s a she, right?” Santana is tired of girls who are just into college experiments.
Quinn takes a sip from her glass and shrugs her shoulders. “Straight. Brunette. Dramatic. I dated her boyfriend. What about you?”
Who will she be picturing? Hmm, let’s think.
“Taylor Swift. Kaley Cuoco. Brittany Snow.” Oh crap. “My ex maybe.”
“It’s just- We didn’t fight enough.”
“Sorry? Did you say fight?” She must’ve said fuck, and Quinn misheard. It's noisy at the bar.
Okay, now Quinn is surprised. “Isn’t it a good thing?”
“Nooo. This is how I communicate.” Quinn probably won’t understand. “Whatever.” Although-
Although- Quinn is into some dramatic chick, after all, Santana thinks. “Do you want to get out of here? It’s kind of loud, and this” Santana makes a circle in the air, “is starting to feel like a date.”
“See? That’s what I was talking about.”
"A date?" Santana rolls her eyes. “You were not.”
“You wanted to chitchat. I remember exactly what you said.”
“I would never say chitchat.” Quinn crosses her arms, all defensive all of a sudden. God knows, she hates that word.
“You meant it."
Quinn rolls her eyes.
Santana grins. "Anyway-”
“What’s so funny?”
“Are we fighting already?” Santana takes the glass from Quinn’s hand and puts it on the counter. “Perfect.”
Quinn relaxes and smiles.