Disclaimer:: I don't own Glee or anything else in this little ficlet.
Author's Note:: I couldn't help myself
Santana's browsing through the horrible selection of music the Lima Wal-Mart has, wondering why she even bothers. She comes here every other week with some tiny hope that maybe they actually have what she's looking for (she never really looks for anything specific, just something that might call out to her). She scoffs in disgust as she picks up a Shakira album in the Country section. Not only is their selection scarce and useless, they can't even put them in the correct genres.
A strange feeling hits her and her back tenses as she glances around with a barely visible tilt of her head. She turns her head fully, a look mixed of confusion and slight disgust crosses her face when she recognizes who's staring at her. She's pretty sure Dalton Academy has its own fancy stores surrounding it, so his presence only confuses her more.
And freaks her out because he just keeps staring at her with this crazy, scary grin.
Her hands instinctively clench and she cringes when she hears a crack. "What?" She barks out as she places the now splintered CD case behind a few others.
She watches in horror as his smile seems to get bigger and a brief thought that Sam's mouth has nothing on this guy crosses her mind before she turns to face him, arms crossed and eyebrow raised in question.
She doesn't show it, but she's confused when his eyes travel from her feet to her face and back down again. "Aren't you-"
"Gay?" He interrupts; she hates it and is again frightened because he knew what she was getting at, "100%. Rachel helped me out with that one."
She looks ill at the thought, even more so because for some strange reason she just pictured Rachel Berry helping her with the whole gay thing.
"Oh yeah, definitely." He grins again (seriously it's fucking freaking her out) and nods at her like he just confirmed his awesomeness.
"What the hell are you talking about, Big Mouth Billy?" She really wishes someone was there to hear that, she's kind of proud of herself for that one.
"Kurt has some horrible gaydar." He says, ignoring her like he's having his own conversation and she's just a bystander. It takes her a brief second but then she realizes what he's actually saying. She doesn't respond right away, instead she glances down at her wardrobe and tries to figure out if it's actually that obvious.
She finally looks back at him with a glare firmly set on her face but it falters when his freakishly large mouth is smiling again.
"Yes, your wardrobe is a tad on the butch side, but don't worry only those of us that are…" He trails off like she's supposed to follow what he's talking about. What scares her is she does know.
In a moment of weakness, that she absolutely hates herself for, she gives him a sad smile and looks back at the CD racks.
She doesn't' see his smile falter and she hates him for the sympathetic look he's giving her when she looks up from the touch on her arm. She turns away, jerking her arm out his reach.
"Does she know?" He asks quietly and her breath leaves her as the day she's been trying to forget comes rushing back and tears prick at her eyes.
The clenching of her fists and the slight drop in her shoulders is the only answer he receives.
She walks away quickly, hoping he'll get the idea and leave her the hell alone.
After ten minutes of power walking through the kitchen isles and dodging little children in the toy isles she slows down, thinking anyone would have given up by then.
She glances around the Auto isle wondering why she's even still here. This is the third weekend she's wandered aimlessly around Wal-Mart, a store she'd previously never be caught dead in. She's about to grab at one of the steering wheel covers when something hits the back of her head. She turns around quickly; ready to tear into whoever was responsible.
"The fuck…?" She mutters when it's Trouty Mouth 2.0 grinning like the fool he is and waving a NERF gun in his hand.
Fifteen minutes later they're both chuckling outside in the parking lot as Security makes sure they don't come back in.
They've barely spoken but she thinks that maybe they'll get along. She punches him in the arm lightly; he staggers and looks wounded before throwing his arm around her shoulders. He kind of reminds her of Puck, without the 'trying to get into her pants' thing.
"Don't you dare go running your Grand Canyon of a mouth to Hummel." She threatens.
His only response is to laugh and put his number in her phone before walking to his car.
