Author's note- Okay guys! I was kind of reluctant to post this. Keep in mind, I haven't written in what feels like forever. This is me dipping my toes back in the water, so it isn't perfect. Thanks for reading.

Disclaimer- I don't own Glee or it's characters.

This will be split into probably about three parts. This chapter is fine, but read on at your own risk. There will be talks of underage drinking, death, VERY MINOR abuse, and probably some other stuff I'm forgetting. I'm not one for happy endings.

I first laid eyes on Santana in the 6th grade. She was the new transfer student from Florida. It was obvious she was from the sunshine state, her skin a dark tan, her hair a deep, rich raven color. Santana looked like she belonged on the beach, not stuck in the middle of Ohio in January, where the sky was gray and the ground was covered in murky slush. With all that said, it came as a surprise to me when I found myself captivated with the transfer student. From the moment Mr. Schilling introduced her to the class, I had taken a fond interest in Santana. She was just too perfect. Her name sounded like silk. Her hair fell in lucious waves. Her skin was flawless. Her brown eyes were so bright and full of life.

The other kids in class didn't feel the same way, though. This was confusing to me. What was there not to like about Santana? They would pick on her, throw her against lockers, talk about her behind her back. Yet, throughout this, she would keep her head high, and would occasionally make a snide retort.

This amazed me. Whenever the kids at school teased me, I would cry. I couldn't help it, it hurt so bad. But, Santana never appeared upset.

Even while my infatuation for Santana grew, I never spoke to her. Santana was a very quiet and reserved girl, and though I was normally very outgoing, I was too shy to talk to the Floridian.

Slowly, Santana began to sift through the ranks. Her snide remarks made all the bullies back off, something no new kid has ever done. Soon enough, she was the top bitch at school. Everybody feared and respected her at the same time. We'd still never talked until the first day of 7th grade.

It was September, and abnormally chilly. I didn't know how to read the forecast. My mom made me take "smart pills", but they made me the opposite of smart, they made all the edges blurry. I didn't understand a lot of things, including the weather. So, mistakenly, I wore a tank top to school, and my mother didn't even bother to correct me.

As soon as I walked through the doors, I could tell everybody was looking at me. I stuck out like a sore thumb, wearing my tank top amidst a group of teens with jackets and sweaters on. Immediately I was targeted by two jocks (they thought they were hot shit for being on the middle school football team), who laughed tauntingly me.

"Dumb bitch, did you forget how to read a calendar?" One of them said, and I gripped my books close to my chest.

"Oh, look, Dave, the bitch has gone mute." The other one retorts when I didn't answer, too engulfed in my own fear to hear a locker slam in the distance and the sound of somebody walking towards us.

The boys noticed, though, because they quickly stopped talking, straightened up and turned around towards the figure. "Hey douchebags! Leave Brittany alone." It was Santana. All I could think was, "She knows my name?"

Even though he looked like he was about to piss his pants, one of the jocks, Dave, scoffed. "Oh yeah? What is she, your girlfriend?"

This time, it was Santana that scoffed. "You wish." She pushed him into the locker next to me, putting a threatening finger on his chest. "Didn't you hear me, or are you deaf? Leave Brittany alone." She growled, narrowing her eyes at him. She took the finger off his chest and backed away, her face slowly softening but still looking displeased.

The boys quickly left, and she turned to me, her face slowly softening, a sympathetic smile gracing her face, a sight that I'd never seen before. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, thanks." I say firmly, but my face says otherwise. My lip is quivering and my eyes are watery. Bullies always made me cry.

"You don't look fine." She glanced around the halls, looking at the other kids before taking my arm and leading me down an empty hallway into another barren room.

"I found this last year. I think it used to be an old storage room. It's empty, now." She says, looking around the room, shrugging, before glancing back at me. "I also stash some of my stuff in here. My locker is too small to fit all my crap."

I stay quiet, not knowing what she means. Silent tears flowed down my face. She moves into the corner and starts rummaging through a bag. She pulls out a sweater and hands it to me. I blush, wiping under my eyes and taking it, uttering out a soft, "Thanks."

"Is that all you know how to say?" She asks, a small smirk appearing on her face. This elicits a small giggle from me.

"No. I'm Brittany." I said, and put her sweater on.

"I know." Santana replied, a twinkle in her eye. "I'm Santana."

"I know." I parrot, and Santana laughs, a true genuine laugh. Her eyes and nosed were scrunched up and her face was set in a wide grin. She looked so beautiful.

From that moment on, we were inseperable. Santana kept me safe, and I kept her happy. She learned all about me and I learned all about her.

I explained why I was sometimes not "fully there". I had always played dumb so people would leave me alone, and then in the 3rd grade my mother caught wind of this. They took me to a specialist, who said I had a learning disability and put me on medication without really diagnosing me. She just listened to what my mom had to say and threw a bottle of pills at me. The pills make everything a little foggy and hard to understand.

Santana listened to all of this with a frown on her face, but she was understanding. When I had finished, she went, "B, I don't think you really have a learning disability."

"I know."

"What?" Santana asked, looking confused herself. "Why haven't you told anybody?"

"I told you." I said, a weak smile forming at an attempt to lighten the mood but Santana didn't budge. "If I tried telling that to my mom, she'd probably slap me and call me a liar."

Her eyes widen slightly, and she nods. "Fine." She never said anything about it again. She just understood. She helped me with all my homework, being much more kind and forgiving than my teachers, never giving up on a subject until I learned it. She helped me decipher conversations I wasn't following, and she never questioned anything that I said.

She was everything a girl could ever want. One time, when we were working on math homework, I was thinking about this. "I wish you were a boy." I said, laying on my bed, watching her from across the room. She stopped what she was writing down and glanced back at me, curiously. "Or, I wish I was a guy. Either way."

"What do you mean?"

"Like, so we could be boyfriend and girlfriend."

She bit her lip and turned away from me, working on her homework again. She never did respond to me, and I wish I could know what she was thinking. I think that she had just passed it off as the meds talking. But, it wasn't.

Another twenty minutes passed, I was letting her work in peace. I, myself, was stuck on the first question. My mind was too busy thinking about other things, like Santana. It's hard not to when you have her sitting five feet away.

"San?" I asked. She didn't look up, she was working diligently.

"Hmm?"

"Have you ever kissed somebody?"

This time, she did set her pen down, swiveling around in her chair, with a raised eyebrow and a soft smile. "Why?"

"I mean, have you?"

"Well, yeah, but why are you asking?" She replied, hesitantly, her mocha eyes filled with confusion.

"I haven't." I said, looking at her. "I have a date Friday." I lied, trying to find a way to ask what I really wanted to say.

"Oh? With who?" She asked, a smirk falling upon her face, but her eyes told a different story. There was some other emotion lying underneath. She just hid it well.

"Noah." I said, lying again. If necessary, I was sure I could actually get him to go out on a date with me if Santana got suspicious. He would date anybody.

"Oh." She said, turning back around and leaning over her paper, starting to write some more as she said, "Well, you'll make a cute couple. And, you can have your first kiss. God knows he is going to try and kiss you, with his reputation."

My cheeks heat up as I try to find the words I want to say next. "Yeah, well, um- that's kind of why I brought it up. Because of his reputation, he's probably going to kiss me. But I don't really know how.."

"It will come to you when you start-" She started to talk but I cut her off.

"Santana. I don't know how to do it. I've seen it in the movies and in real life, but it doesn't make any sense." That wasn't a lie, I really didn't understand kissing, I just knew I really wanted to kiss Santana.

She swiveled around, once again, but this time it was so fast I could've sworn it would give her whiplash. "What are you asking me to do here?" She asked slowly, a slight blush creeping onto her face, tinging the tips of her ears and her cheeks a soft red, even though she always says ethnic people don't blush.

"I want you to show me how." I breathe out, closing my eyes out of nervousness. What if I lost my best friend over this? What if I was making this all up in my head?

"You want me to-?"

"To kiss me." I affirmed, nodding my head. "I mean, only if you want to. It won't mean anything, it's just for practice." I said, holding back a wince at the words that came out of my mouth.

"Just for practice?" She asked, getting out of her chair and walking closer to where I sat on the bed. I was unsure of whether she was going to say yes or slap me.

"Just for practice." I confirmed, as she sat down next to me, looking into my eyes.

"You swear you won't tell anybody?"

"It'll be our secret. Pinky promise." I answered, holding out my pinky. She flashed a soft smile, locking her pinky with mine and squeezing it tight.

"Okay."

"Okay?" I repeat, taking a deep breath. Did she mean what I thought she meant?

She nods and then starts to lean in, closing the gap. My stomach fills with butterflies. When her lips finally touch mine, it feels like fireworks go off in my head. I quickly reciprocate, wrapping my arms around her neck.

Santana gently leaned forward and laid me down on the bed, laying on top of me as we continued to kiss, full-on making out by this point. When we finally had to pull away for air, Santana had that sparkle in her eye that she gets and our lips were both red and swollen.

"Wow." She breathed out.

"I think I'm ready now." I say, eliciting a wide grin from Santana.

"I think you do, thanks to yours truly." She replied cheekily, pointing both of her thumbs at herself and smiling.

"For sure. But now I'm sleepy. Can we go to bed now?" I ask, and she nodded, getting up from the bed to change.

The next day at school, she had been giving me the cold shoulder. I had woken up to a note on my nightstand, saying her parents called and she had to leave, but she'd see me at school. So, I didn't think much of it and remained optimistic that I would indeed see her at school. But then, she didn't sit next to me in the classes we had together. She wasn't at her locker each time I checked. It was like she was avoiding me.

Fortunately, I caught a glimpse of her as she was briskly walking out of Algebra. "Santana!" She continued to walk ahead, pretending like she didn't see me. "San." I say, grabbing her arm, forcing me to look at her. I could tell she looked hurt, but I didn't know why.

"Let go." She growled and I immediately shrunk back in guilt, mixed with fear. She notices my expression and looks guilty, too. "Come on." She says, softer this time.

She turns and starts to walk down the hall, and I follow, recognizing where we are going. Our room. We had gone there anytime we needed to get away from all the other kids, or sometimes just to talk. This time, she seemed pissed, and I knew this was going to be a shitfest.

But to my surprise, when she walked in the room and closed the door behind us, she turned around and had the calmest expression on her face. "What did you want?"

This time it was my turn to get mad. "Are you kidding me?" I asked, narrowing my eyes. "Are you telling me that after ditching me this morning and ignoring me for the rest of the day, you have no idea what I want to talk about?" My voice gets higher throughout my rant. She shifts her weight and bites her lip. I had never raised my voice at her.

"I don't want to talk about it."

I frown. "I said it didn't mean anything, San. It was just for practice."

"Oh, that's bullshit, you and I both know it. You just wanted to manipulate me so you could get into my pants. I thought we were friends, Brittany."

My eyes widen at her words, and I quickly reply. "We are friends. Best friends. And I don't like this fighting, okay? I shouldn't have asked you to kiss me last night. And I wouldn't have if I knew it would do this to our friendship. It was just for practice, I swear."

Santana looked so vulnerable at that moment. Her eyes looked a little glossy, and they were wide-set. She was chewing on her lip and playing with her fingers. "Just for practice?" She asks, and I nodded in return.

"I won't ever do it again, okay? I just want our friendship to get back to normal."

"No!" She shouts, almost too quickly. A deep blush appears on her cheeks. "I mean- your date with Puck still isn't until Friday, yeah? One kiss isn't going to make you some expert. We probably need to practice some more, so your kiss can blow him away."

I nod dumbly, smiling at her. She returns it and I engulf her in a hug. "Damn, Britt, it was only one day. You act like I ignored you for a month."

I pull away and smile again. "I missed you."

San's cheeks started to turn red again. "I missed you too, B."

I grinned and poked her cheek. "I thought ethnic people didn't blush." She shot me a playful glare and I giggled.

Over the years our relationship grew stronger, and definitely into more than just friends. Practice kisses turned to frequent make out sessions, and eventually make out sessions led to sex. Samantha had refused to put a label on us, citing her parents every time. Eventually, I let it go and stopped bringing it up.

Let me tell you, as much as I loved being with Santana, it really did suck to hide. Anytime I'd try and talk about her sexuality, she would shut down and change the subject.

Soon, high school came. And with that, came change. Santana seemed like a totally different person. I didn't love her any less; she was just different.

She got meaner to the other kids (she was still nice to me), she started caring what other people thought of her, and most of all she started caring about her social status at the school. Almost immediately, Santana begged me to try out for the Cheerios, McKinley's cheerleading squad with her. She told me that all of the popular girls were Cheerios. I didn't care about that, though. I just agreed because it was Santana and I would do anything for her.

The Cheerios turned out to not be half bad. We got to wear hot outfits and perform choreographed routines that were pretty much like dancing, so that was fun. The only bad part about it was Coach Sue. She was really mean to us, and I didn't like it. Santana made it worth it, though.

Also with high school came boyfriends. I never wanted one but Santana insisted that we would have to date football players to get respect. I would get a twinge of jealousy anytime I saw her with a boy. I think she did too, when she saw me with a boy.

She started dating Puckerman. I didn't like that guy. He seemed to have many other "side chicks" as well as Santana, and I was scared she was going to get hurt.

"I don't think he's a very good person, San." I told her one night, when came over to my house, looking for advice on an outfit for her date.

"Yeah, well, I think he is. You dated him, too." She points out, as she held a dress out in front of her body.

I bite my lip when I hear her refer to the lie I told. She didn't know I lied, though. "Exactly, so I should know better than anybody."

She was looking at herself in the mirror and then she turned around, looking at me. "What about this one?" She asked.

"Isn't it a little too.. short? It's the winter, you know."

She rolled her eyes. "That's the point, I'm trying to get laid, B."

"You're not trying to get laid. If you were trying to get laid, you would just have sex with me." I retort, and I saw her wince. "You're trying to get popular."

"That's the beauty that comes along with it." She says nonchalantly as she puts on some lipstick. "So, this dress or no?" When I just shrugged, I saw a glint in her eye appear. I gulped. "Would you fuck me in this dress, Britt?" She asked lowly.

"Y-yes." I stutter out and she walked over and gave me a quick peck on the lips.

"Good. So, I'm wearing this dress."

"Tease." I groan, rolling over so my face is in the pillow and I hear her laugh in the background.

"You'll get some later, I promise. Especially if the sex is bad, and it probably will be." She says, grabbing her purse.

Later that night, she had texted me saying she was coming through my window. I'm not sure what I expected, but I didn't expect to see a puffy eyed, disheveled Santana. As soon as she got through the window, she practically ran over to me and hugged me tight, crying softly into my shoulder. I comforted her, and once she calmed down she explained what happened.

Apparently, she was on the date at Breadstix when Puck said he was going to go to the bathroom. After twenty minutes, he still hadn't come back, and she figured he ditched her. But, he had actually gone up and went somewhere in Breadstix, not out the door. So, instead of leaving, she got up walked in the direction he went. She had been surprised to find a storage closet, not a bathroom. There were sounds coming from it, so she opened the door. Puck was in there fucking the waitress. She said Puck remained eerily calm even though his girlfriend just caught hin cheating, like it wasn't a big deal. He even invited her to join in. She stormed off and that's how she ended up here.

"You're so good to me, B, you know that?" She says softly, as she's cuddled up on my chest, looking up at me. I just lock eyes with her and smile warmly instead of responding. Then, she slowly started to creep down my body, and I looked down at her questioningly. When she slipped a hand in my pants and laid a palm over my panties, I knew what she was doing. I looked at her face, but she was emotionless. It was tear stained and still red and puffy, and she wouldn't make eye contact with me. It wasn't right. It wasn't how it nornally was.

"Santana." I say, as she runs a finger over my slit, making me shiver. She didn't look up at me. "Santana!" I said, louder and making it more apparent that I wasn't just moaning her name but I actually wanted to say something.

She stilled her movements and finally looked up at me for the first time. "What?"

"What are you doing?" I ask, breathing a little heavy, since there is a girl between my legs with her hand down my pants.

"I told you I would do this earlier. And then you had to sit and listen to me cry, I wanted to repay you."

I frown, pulling her hand out, motioning for her to come lay down next to me. She hesitantly crawls up the bed, laying next to me as I cuddle into her. "Look, S, I don't need you to repay me. I'm not in this friendship for sex. I love you, you're my best friend. You think that comforting you tonight was a burden to me? That I was just doing it for some sexual gratitude? I would never do that. You mean to much to me. I could never take advantage of you like that." I finished. She had her head turned around, staring into my eyes, like she was searching for something. Her eyes had become watery again, and I wiped up a tear with my thumb, frowning. "I didn't mean to make you cry."

She smiled, sniffling and wiping her tears away, too. "Happy tears, Britt. You're too good for me." She repeated from earlier.

"You're too good for me." I say back, and she giggles. I think she finally found what she was searching for in my eyes, because she leaned in and kissed me softly. Not a peck like earlier, and not a sex-hungry kiss like our others were. This was longer and it felt like it meant something. When she finally pulled away, she stared at me again, a dopey smile spreading over her face.

"What? Do I have something on me?" I ask, reaching up to touch my face. This made her smile wider.

"Nope." She said, popping the p. "I was just thinking about how amazing you are."

"You're amazing too." I replied, since it was true. She rolled over and cuddled into my again, dozing off. But before she did, I heard her mumble, "You're too good for me.", once more.

Let me know! I'll upload the second part sometime wirhin the next week, and then I'll finish the last part.