Hello. Welcome to our Joe/Quinn fanfic. We deffo saw sparks between them in 'Heart' :). Anyways, this is a colab between Zemmamma777 and random-gleekV. Zemmamma777 will write the Joe chapters and I will write the Quinn chapters. Hope you like! :)

Joe's POV

I was sitting in the passenger seat of our moving van as my mom drove us into the next chapter of our lives, my head leaned against the window, watching the unimpressive landscape zip by us. I'd been homeschooled for as long as I could remember, and my parents had decided for a little change of scene. My dad had hit just about every house in their last town with his Bible sales, and needed a fresh clientele, so he decided we'd move to Lima, Ohio, where an old friend of Mom's, Judy, lived.

When I heard about the move, I decided that if our family was going to change atmospheres, so was I. I had decided that I wanted to be enrolled in the local high school, McKinley High, because I had come to the realization that my best friend was my mom. Not that there was anything wrong with that, I love my mom, I just would like that for once, my social life extended beyond my family and the neighbours.

We backed into the driveway of the house, where Dad was waiting on the porch, waiving his arm and grinning as he saw us. Mom and I hopped out, stretching our legs and making our way over to Dad.

"How was the drive?" he asked.

"Way too long," I replied.

He laughed.

"So, I spoke to the Principal at McKinley, I think his name is Figgins? Anyways, he said you should just spend the rest of the week getting used to Lima, because they're finishing up first semester, that way you can go in on Monday and start fresh," he said.

I grinned at that. "Thanks, Dad." I went and gave him a hug.

"I also got you something," he said, reaching inside the door to the new house and pulling out a brand new Element skateboard.

My jaw dropped. I had just broken my old skate board before the move, so to come to this new town, this new life, and have a new board to cruise around on had me at a loss for words.

"Go for a little spin, Joe," my mom said, grinning largely.

I needed no further convincing, and I jumped on and began propelling myself down the sidewalk of our new street, Francis Street. I stood on the board, surveying my new surroundings, trying to drink in every detail of this strange new place.

I saw some small kids tugging on the hands of either a relative or a babysitter- I wasn't going to try to guess- trying to tow them to the park down the road.

I took a corner onto an intersecting road, planning to do a full square circuit before getting back to Mom and Dad. I saw a red car pull into a driveway across the street, with a girl about my age with shoulder-length blonde hair climb out, shouldering a backpack, locking her door, and heading inside. She must have just come back from school.

I continued down the stretch of sidewalk, using the corner sign at the end to slingshot me down the closest parallel street with mine.

The rest of the ride was nice; I got to really appreciate this nice little neighbourhood we were going to live in.

When I got in, I set my deck inside the door, just as Dad had done. I quickly kicked off my sandals (as comfy as they were, going barefoot is better!) and slowly ventured into this new place, which was still bare, save for a few things Dad had brought with him.

I turned into a room with the lights on, which I guessed was the kitchen. Mom and Dad were at the table, talking about the drive and about unpacking the things from the moving van.

"Ah, there he is!" Dad exclaimed. "You mind giving me a hand unloading some of the things, Joseph?"

I nodded, "Yeah, sure thing, Dad."

We opened the garage door and began carrying things in, with Mom directing us as to where certain things were supposed to go. That was how we divided it: Dad and I doing the lifting with Mom letting us know where it has to go, opening doors, and that kind of thing. It was our little quick and efficient way of going about things.

Once everything was unloaded and the van locked up, Dad and I leaned up against a wall, panting a little from the effort.

"Chinese?" he asked.

"Chinese," Mom confirmed, giving me a look.

I picked up a portable phone and a phone book, carrying them out to the now-present chair on the porch, right in front of the number tacked to the front of the house. I basked in the evening breeze that swept through the trees on the front lawns on our street. I made the call and had to catch myself when the order-taker asked for the address. I was so close to giving our old address.

"34 Francis Street," I said, glancing at the metallic number nailed to the bricks.

I went up to my room and grabbed my guitar and went back to the seat outside, and started to play some little tunes I've written here and there, little snippets of riffs, and that kinda thing.

The order came after awhile and I paid the delivery guy, giving a pretty good tip, too, and brought the meal inside, to the table, pulling the delivery boxes out of the bag, inspecting their contents, and doling them out accordingly.

We ate and joked, overall just enjoying each other's company, trading our opinions of the new town.

"I gotta say, I really like it," I said. "It looks like an especially nice neighbourhood, from what I saw on my little ride, and it was great to sit out on the seat on the porch and just let the breeze wash over me."

My parents smiled at that. They were obviously happy that I liked this new place. They had made it clear that they wanted to be sure that I liked the place as much as they did, especially since they didn't know how school would go.

I spent the next few days venturing out around the small town, taking in every little detail: places that looked cool to hang out, great places to grab a bite, the churches, good places to skate, that kind of thing.

I spent a while trying to find the best route to our new church. I had a little Lima map that I bought in town, and had the "Point A" and "Point B" marked out on the map, tracing my fingers along each little path, until I found one that seemed to be the shortest, most direct way of getting to and from there.

Finally, I was woken up nice and early Sunday morning. Today was our first time at the new church. I went to the washroom, brushing my teeth and splashing my face with water to wake me up better. I trudged back into my room and took the clothes that were hung up on the back of my door and adorned them.

I wasn't much for clothes that were remotely formal, but these were my Sunday clothes. I grabbed a white undershirt from a drawer off to the side, slipping it on, covering some of the Bible quotes etched into my skin. I grabbed the white button up shirt and adorned it, leaving the top button open. I slid into some black skinny jeans and slung the black blazer over top the dress shirt, tucking my shirt into my pants and sliding a nice occasions-only belt through the loops of the jeans.

I went to my socks drawer (which was virtually empty, save for about ten or so pairs [emergencies and special occasions]) and grabbed the black formal socks I had specifically for church.

I looked in the mirror and arranged my dreads into a little ponytail/bunch that I often had it in. I left that one strand of curly hair dangle in front of my forehead, turning my head slightly left and right to inspect the job.

With that, I went downstairs and went to the kitchen, giving each of my parents a kiss on the cheek and loaded my breakfast into a plate.

We ate in a comfortable silence, my dad looking over some paperwork from an order of new Bibles he'd just gotten. These were his busiest days, at church. He was always getting sales, especially with new crowds.

Once everyone was done their breakfasts and doing little last-minute touch-ups, we all hopped in the car, and I indicated the way I found a few days ago to Dad as he drove.

We got a pretty decent parking spot and went inside, doing a three-sixty spin to take in the interior of the church. Elaborate arches, beautiful stained-glass windows, it was a super nice setup.

We took spots as close to the front as we could get, and we went through the service. I couldn't help but notice at one point the blonde girl I'd seen climbing out of her car my first day in Lima, when I went for a little skate around the block. She was standing beside a woman who looked very much like an older version of herself. She looked my way and sent a hesitant little smile my way. I grinned back and kinda motioned back towards the service with my head. Her grin widened and she turned back.

Once everything was done, Mum, Dad, and I were on our way out when we came level with this girl and her mother. I overheard their conversation a bit, tuning out Mom and Dad's usual conversations.

"So, what did you think of that, Quinn?" her mother asked.

Quinn, I thought. So that's her name.

"I thought it was pretty good, Mom," the girl replied. "What are we going to have for supper tonight?"

My goodness, not only does she look like an angel, she sounds like one too!

"Hmm, I hadn't thought of that! Any ideas?"

"Well, I was thinking Chinese, you know? It just takes the pressure off of us for having to whip something up and it gives me the shot to sort things out for the new semester at McKinley."

"That's a great idea, Quinnie," her mother concurred.

I had this little jolt of happiness inside me. She's going to McKinley too! Maybe this will actually be great!