A/N: Hey guys, so this is definitely a less than traditional view on Brittana, but it's also something that I hadn't seen anywhere else and have wanted to try for awhile. I always thought the Quinntana friendship was never taken enough advantage of in Glee, but I liked the idea of Santana having a no-nonsense best friend (that she wasn't sleeping with) that understood her really well, and that could help her through some stuff when she needed it. I didn't really want to recycle a Glee character, because they'd bring their own characteristics with them, and I wanted someone I could make my own. Santana really intrigues me as a character, and this story will primarily focus on her, her relationship with Brittany, and her friendship with the new girl. If anyone else is like me, and is feeling a little nostalgia for the old Glee, this will hopefully also be for you...I wanted to tell the Brittana story from the (sort of) beginning, from a different perspective, and give Santana someone to lean on, because I kind of hate angst when it comes to love. Life is hard enough without making fiction hard too. That being said, no story is fun to read if it's all happy all the time, and there will be angst in this story, as well as triggers for physical abuse. You are warned. This is probably the longest author's note I'm going to write, I promise, and you get a pat on the back if you've made it through the whole thing. I have a general story arc in mind, though if you all have ideas, comments, or suggestions, a review will make my day. Make sure it's constructive criticism though. No flat out hating. Ain't nobody got time for that. Okay, now I'm done. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Glee and its characters and all associated material are not mine. I'm just having fun.

Samantha Pearson looked up at the large red letters that arched in a sign over the doorway of her new school.

Welcome to McKinley High School! Home of the Titans!

She took a deep breath, and pushed open the glass double doors of the front entrance. She was supposed to find the front office to get her schedule, and then somehow she had to find her first class amongst all this chaos. She had walked in right as the bell rang for a class change, and there were teenagers everywhere, talking, laughing, yelling…and Sam was nervous already.

One of the obvious problems with transferring schools after the beginning of the semester was that everyone else had already made friends and grouped up. The cliques were established, the hierarchy built, and she just knew that everyone would be watching to see where she was placed. At her old school, Crawford Country Day, things had been much less…judgmental. Every girl did what they enjoyed, and were good at, and no one even blinked. In fact, the whole diversity thing was celebrated. Sam didn't think it would be quite as simple here.

As she turned the corner to go into the door marked "Front Office," she slammed directly into someone carrying a huge stack of paper…which promptly went flying everywhere.

"Shit. I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attention and – " she began, but the other girl interrupted her.

"Please, it was entirely my fault. I was quizzing myself on the names of Tony Award winning actresses from 1960-1979, and it seems I allowed myself to become so distracted I ran into you. Please accept my apologies."

"Um…" Sam said as she bent down to help the girl pick up the paper, which turned out to be pages of sheet music. "Any particular reason you needed to know that information?"

"Well, I received a less than exemplary grade on an exam this morning, and when I get depressed, I remind myself of inspirational Broadway singers who have accomplished everything I one day dream of accomplishing. I had just completed 1940-1959 without incident, so therefore it was only natural that I move onto 1960-1979." the girl replied, as if it were the most logical explanation in the world.

"Right..." Sam said, chuckling. The girl was a little eager, but she seemed nice enough. "Um, well, I'm Samantha Pearson. Call me Sam. It's nice to meet you." She held out her hand.

"Rachel Berry" said the girl, her face lighting up. "It's very nice to meet you as well. Are you new?"

"Uh, yeah. I just transferred. From Crawford County Day."

"Dalton Academy's all-girl sister school?" She asked, surprised.

"Is that weird?"

"Well…no. I just don't think that if I went to a school like Crawford, I'd end up switching to public school. Especially not McKinley. It's a fine school and all, but…what made you switch?"

Sam shifted uncomfortably. That was certainly not something she wanted to talk about yet, no matter how nice Rachel Berry was. "Uh, you know…parents. Work." Well, it wasn't entirely a lie.

Rachel nodded, as if this made perfect sense. "Well it was very nice to meet you Sam, but I really do have to go practice now. If I don't practice in the choir room during my free period at least 4 times a week, my vocal chords will get terribly out of shape. I'll see you around!" And with that, she was gone in a whirl of long brown hair and sheet music.

Sam shook her head. The girl certainly had character. Not really her type though… Right. Office. Have to get my schedule.

One extremely short conversation with the receptionist later, she was holding a piece of paper that read "3rd period. 9:30-10:15. English III. Room A213. Sam checked her watch. 9:25. She had 5 minutes and she had absolutely no idea where this room was. "You'd think they'd attach a map or something to the new student handbook." she muttered under her breath. "50 pages of obvious shit like 'No nudity on school grounds' and not a single goddamn thing about a map."

As she turned the corner, she heard a yelp and a chorus of laughter. She looked down the hall to the source of the noise, where a lean, effeminate-looking boy wearing checkered pants was standing in shock, mouth open, and covered from head to toe in…Slushie? He was surrounded by members of the football team sporting their letter jackets. One jock who was bigger than the rest, held an empty cup and sported a stupid grin.

"Don't wear those homo pants again, Hummel. We don't like that faggot shit here." The jock said, as his cohorts laughed again. They all moved away in a pack, leaving the Hummel boy dripping green ice and shivering. Sam rolled her eyes at the scene, heading over to see if the kid was okay.

"Hey, you okay?" she asked, offering him a tissue pack she had in her backpack. "Guys like that make me sick. I bet he was totally just jealous of your pants."

The boy chuckled weakly, wiping his eyes with the tissues. "Oh, I'm sure that's what it was. My fabulous fashion sense."

"Definitely. Not many people could pull off those pants, and you, my friend, are one of them."

"Well thank you. Kurt Hummel." He said, extending a somewhat sticky hand.

"Samantha Pearson. Call me Sam."

"First day?"

"Yeah. Attempting to find my English class. Failing miserably."

"Who do you have?"

"…Wilson?"

"Oh, here, I have biology next period. My classroom's right next to yours. Let me get cleaned up and I'll walk you." He said with a smile.

"Great, thanks!" she replied. 5 minutes later, Kurt was Slushie-free, sporting a brand new blazer complete with a hippo broach that he had somehow pulled out of nowhere. "So…are Slushies the traditional method of torture in this school?" she asked as they walked towards class.

"It is for the unpopular. The bourgeoisie, the great unwashed. Keep your rep up girl, or you'll join the masses. Come to think of it, you might not want to be seen with me. Loserdom transfers."

"Nah, I'll take my chances. If only to be seen with someone with such excellent fashion sense. Because clearly, I have none." She joked. He eyed her worn leather jacket, faded All-American Rejects t-shirt, ripped jeans, and black Converses. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail.

"You have potential." He said appraisingly. "But that's your classroom right there. I'll see you around. Good luck!"

Sam waved goodbye to Kurt and turned to face the doorway.

Here we go, she thought, and walked into her English classroom.