Who: Greg Brady and Quinn Fabray What: Quinn's gonna teach Greg to speak "real swell" When: Friday evening, before sunset Where: Along the beach Rating/Warnings: Low for now/none yet Status: Closed/Ongoing
Greg was nervous. He'd been out with girls before, plenty of them. Heck, he lived with three of them, and if he knew enough to make a girl like Marcia smile, a girl who always seemed to have some sort of upsetting drama going on in her life, then surely he ought to be able to make just about any girl smile. Right?
Of course, Quinn was a horse of a different color, so to speak. She was from "the future", where fellows dressed and spoke differently to the way he dressed and spoke, and the parameters for impressing a girl had changed in ways he had no way of knowing. The best he could do was to be himself, he supposed. His dad had told him that often enough. Be himself, be kind and polite and respectful, and hope that was enough to make a good impression.
He was early to the beach, and figured he'd use the intervening time wisely. He stripped off his shirt, leaving him in his bathing suit, and plunged into the waves. He hadn't really swum in the ocean since he and his family went to Hawaii, not like this. For such a California boy, he sure didn't get to the beach as often as he'd like. But life had been so full for him, what with school and chores and football and everything.
The water was warm, and after swimming strongly long enough that his arms began to tire slightly, he flipped over onto his back, floating gently on the waves and gazing up at the blue, blue sky while he waited for Quinn.