I blast the horn furiously at the morons on the freeway as I speed past them imagining all the cruel ways I can murder them all as I notice that, yet again, I am horribly late. My truck weaves in and out of traffic trying to get to work before it's too late as I imagine that woman is parked in my spot again, flashing her infuriating smile at me. I give the final asshole on the freeway the finger as I cut in front of him and take my exit.
Almost at my destination, I stick my head out of the window and listen vigilantly for the telltale sounds of the person I'm supposed to hate but find myself frustratingly not-quite-yet-able-to-bring- myself to slash her tires. Thankfully, I don't hear the infamous grating song that all children can sense within a five-mile radius, like bloodhounds, and I let out a sigh of relief.
As if on cue the jolly jingle from the all too familiar ice cream truck starts up as soon as I enter the food truck lot where all the other owner's are setting up their stalls for the day. I glare at the white truck with the unicorn logo, the owner thankfully out of sight, as I grumble and drive my way over to the spot I've been unfortunately relegated to.
Who would have thought that popular cheerleader, Santana Lopez, voted 'most likely to be a trophy wife' in high school, had set out to become one of the most famous food truck chefs in the entire city? I simply did what any self-respecting single and broke student in college does after finding their education dull, repetitive and mind numbingly boring; drop out and join culinary school instead.
I park up my vehicle, set out my ever changing menu for the day, before setting up shop and cutting up all my ingredients ready for the day's onslaught of hungry customers. I crack open my window for ventilation and smile as I smell the different kinds of foods from the other stalls nearby. The distinct smell of something raw and foul drifts past my nose and I stick my head out my service window to ascertain where it is coming from. I finally spot the culprit and peel my lips back in distaste when I spot the multicolored vegan food truck not that far away.
Why would you start a food truck business if you're not going to eat meat? Well whatever, to each their own. Someone whistles in my direction and I smirk when I catch the sight of my good friend and local barbecue extraordinaire, Noah Puckerman. He takes his shirt off before picking up a slab of ribs and blowing me a kiss and I shake my head at him before returning to my own food and checking the taste. Finding it satisfactory for the day, I make sure everything else is in order when I hear a tap on my window.
"Morning, Santana."
The sweet voice floats around my truck and I pause momentarily at the condiment station to stare at the blonde head poking in. Closing my eyes and counting to ten, I turn back to my task and ignore the owner of the Dinosaur ice cream truck; someone who obviously still can't take a hint.
"Um, I have something for you. Santana?"
Sighing and trying to be patient, I continue counting in my head as I ignore the woman at my window. I clatter a few pots and pans in the kitchen when I hear her tap on my window screen again and I walk over to my cooler instead. Using the moment to grab a juice drink, I walk back to my window and slam it onto the counter before quickly turning away. Since the day the community lot president informed us of a new food truck member taking my original spot, a small nugget of distrust and dislike formed in my heart.
"Thank you for the Jarritos, San. How did you know my favorite is the mango flavor?"
"First of all my name is Santana, we're not friends so stop calling me that. Second, I didn't know that was your favorite, I just snatched whatever was there. But it doesn't matter really because I know Mike sneaks some to you every day when he comes over to buy tacos for Tina. So if you'll excuse me, I'm kind of busy right now and I don't want you blocking my customer line."
"Oh, okay…Thanks for the drink again. I brought you a choco-dino pop, I hope you like it."
"Yeah sure, whatever."
Out of the corner of my eye I see her bright smile falter and she stares down at the counter instead.
"I've got work to do," I manage to mutter in a gruff voice. I make sure she's left my window before returning to put the ice cream in my freezer then watch as she slowly makes her way back to her own truck, the spring in her step dulled after our conversation.
I place it with the other ones she's given me over the past week and remind myself to drop them off at the afterschool program later on. No reason to waste the desserts, right? So far every morning has been the same; Brittany walks over to give me some sort of ice cream and I give her a bottle of soda. It's an interesting exchange but she came over first, perhaps as a peace offering, and proudly offered her most famous ice cream bars. I proudly refused them. You would think the woman would have got the hint by now but I guess she is as stubborn as I am.
It doesn't help that her cheery demeanor and all around good person persona, coupled with good looks and a beautiful smile had started to draw me in like a bug to a flytrap. I mean, okay fine, so maybe I was hoping we played for the same team and maybe I could have worked up the courage to almost ask her out, but that does not mean we aren't still competitors in a tough business. Also, I blame Mike Chang for putting ideas into my head, egging me on and telling me if I didn't ask her out that he's going to tell everyone I use cat meat in my tacos. And it's his fault again when I finally worked up the nerve to ask her out but unfortunately saw her with some dude with humongous lips instead. Okay, maybe I'm a little bitter, so sue me. It doesn't matter anyway.
Unwilling to spend another moment thinking about her, I hear the first customer of the day call out to me and I walk to my window counter.
"Welcome to Abuelita's Cocina, what can I get for you today?"
I power through the rush hour as hungry workers stop by to order and I keep tabs on the line of customers outside my truck and compare it to my rivals. The Changs have their own line of loyal customers as they serve their Asian fusion type food and Puck is expertly flipping burgers, ribs and deep-frying fries all at the same time. The heat from the midday sun and my kitchen makes me sweat so I pull out my bandana to tie back my long hair. Taking a moment to grab a bottle of water, I chug it down and glance at the line forming for the Dinosaur ice cream truck.
Honestly, who puts a huge, bright and rainbow colored unicorn on their truck named Dinosaur? Apparently the proprietor has no qualms about having a truck that makes no sense, but whatever, Brittany can do whatever she wants. Apparently, her famous desserts have garnered their own pack of loyal customers and they never fail to visit the owner of the ice cream truck with her wide smile and bright blue eyes. It's not like her ice cream is that good, right? Well, maybe. Whatever, she probably has a bunch of pervy customers anyway because she always wears those damn short shorts. Not that I was checking her out. Okay, maybe I was, but she visits me every morning so what could I do? You can't blame me for checking her out; even I have to admit that she has a great body. Don't judge me.
I am relieved when lunchtime is over and only a few customers are left so I make their orders quickly and finally sit down to take a breather. Figuring I have some time to visit my neighbors, I place my sign outside to indicate I will be away for a few minutes and hop out of my truck to walk over to the Changs first. Their brightly colored gold and red truck stands out amidst everyone else and I walk up to the counter before tapping the window loudly to catch their attention.
"Welcome to the Changtastic Asian Infusion, how may I help- oh it's you, Santana. What's up?"
"Glad you're so quick to dismiss me, Mike. Anyway, I got a bit of free time so I was hoping to grace you with my presence for a bit. Where's Tina?"
"Good to know you think so highly of yourself and your friends, San. Tina went to use the restroom. The baby's been making her sick all morning so I sent her off to rest. Know of anything that would help morning sickness?"
"Hey, you're the Asian couple, shouldn't you guys know some sort of herbal remedy for that kind of stuff?"
"First of all, rude and racist. Secondly, we've tried all the old medicinal herbs and what not, nothing works. The only thing that helped so far is this plum popsicle that Brittany makes, seems to soothe Tina's stomach for a little bit. You know, you really should be a lot nicer to her. She's a great person and I'm sure if you just get to know her you'll-"
"I'm going to stop you right there, Stir Fry. You're not my mother so don't act like it. I can do and treat anyone how I want to. It's a free country so don't butt into my life, okay? Besides, she stole my spot; you know how much I like parking in that area. It's the shadiest part and has the easiest access to the entrance."
"Santana, Brittany sells ice cream, her truck needs to be in the shade. Why are you still so upset over that?"
"I get hot too! It's totally not fair that the committee gave my spot to her. Bunch of old pervert geezers. I bet she only had to bat her pretty big blue eyes and flick her long blonde hair at them to get them to do whatever she wants."
"Wait, are you upset that you didn't get to ask her out?"
"What? No! Whatever, Chang. So what are you cooking up today? It smells delicious back there and you always have something new for the week."
"Here to steal my secret family recipe, eh? Tsk tsk. I thought you were better than that, Santana."
"Psh, get over yourself, Mike. My tacos will beat your fried rice any day. Now I'm hungry, feed me, man!"
"Alright, alright. Don't get your tacos in a twist!"
I laugh along with him as I watch him turn the heat up and throw some meat in a wok. After a few minutes of intense cooking and beers being opened up Mike is almost ready to show me his latest concoction. The smell alone had my mouth watering way before he even added the finishing touches to my meal and I can't wait to eat whatever is on the table. He plates my food and I salute him with my beer bottle before taking my meal back to my own truck.
I hunker down and take a bite of what looks like chicken fried rice and some other mushroom type bits before declaring that it needed hot sauce. After dumping copious amounts of my own personal spin on Tabasco and hot chili paste on my food I quietly enjoy the rest of my lunch in peace. That is, until I am interrupted mid bite by none other than barbecue Puckerman.
"What's a guy got to do to get a bite of that, hmm?"
"Pay Mike eight bucks and hope to god he doesn't spit it in. Now what do you want, butthead?"
"Aww don't be like that, Santana. Besides, I wasn't talking about the food, if you catch my drift."
"Talk to me the day you grow a vagina. Now go bother someone else, you dirty mongrel, you're not getting any scraps from me."
"Looks like someone hasn't gotten laid in a long time…"
"Looks like someone is going to get hot sauce poured down their throat if they don't leave me alone."
"Okay, kidding. Jeez, chill out, Santana. I just want to order some food. Can I get a burrito?"
I get up to throw on some food for him and smack his hand when he tries to reach for my secret hot sauce. I make it as quickly as possible so I can be ready for the after work crowd. I roll it up and dump it in a container before shoving it out the window and pointing him back to the direction of his own truck. Although we are all owners of a food truck and are constantly fighting for hungry customers, there is a set rule amongst us where we refuse to take any money from each other. So watching Puck reach into his pants to hand me some cash only gets him a growl and a finger instead.
"Okay, okay, I get the message. Next rounds on me, what do you want?"
"If I wanted to get the runs for a week then maybe I'll stop by your truck when I'm dying of starvation."
"Ouch, no need to be harsh, Santana. You know I'm the king of BBQ beef, it's my best dish!"
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Now get out of here, don't you need time to prep, too?"
"No worries, I got everything covered. Plus I made some good money today off of a European women's soccer team. You know how the chicks love the Puckster."
"Yeah, of course. That's why half of them came over to me, right?"
"Well, it's not my fault your lesbian prowess is just as awesome as mine."
"If you know I'm gay, why do you insist on hitting on me every day?"
"I can't help that I admire hot women. Speaking of which, ice cream lady is looking over here again. When are you going to be nice to her, Santana? Come on, she's not so bad, and her T-Rex pudding pop is awesome!"
"Whatever, you got your food, now leave me alone."
"Alright fine, but heads up. Hot ice cream lady is coming by."
With a wink he saunters off and I groan when I see Brittany walk towards my window. Hoping to just ignore her, I go back to my prep station and try to think of what else I need to do. She knocks on my window screen and I sigh before heading over to my fridge again. Pulling out her soda drink, I place it on the counter and walk away before she has anything to say.
"Wait, Santana!"
"Look, I don't want your money okay? Just take the drink and go."
"But I got you a stego-strawberry pop. It's everyone's new favorite and I thought maybe you could try it and give me some feedback…"
"Just leave it on the counter, okay? Now, I'm trying to prep for later so if you'll excuse me."
"Okay, well, maybe we could hang out sometime?"
"Thanks but no thanks. I don't have time to go hang out."
I grab the ice pop on my counter before placing it in the freezer with the rest of the ones she's given me. Turning around I walk back to my window and hold out the glass soda bottle for her to take. What I don't expect is for her to hold onto my wrist instead. I try to pull myself out of her grip but her hand only tightens around me.
"What, are you crazy? Let go!"
"No. I want to know why you hate me."
"I don't hate you, now let go of me!"
"You're lying, Santana. I can tell. You don't even look at me when I talk to you. Did I do something or say something bad to you? I mean, I thought everybody liked me…"
"Well I'm not everybody so let go of me, damn it!"
She is about to say something more but a few children screaming out her name come sprinting across the open space and into her legs. They startle her enough for me to wrestle my hand out of her grasp before shutting the window in her face and closing the blinds. I hear the children ramble on about the type of ice cream they want and the reluctant parents who have finally caught up with their eager kids. I hear her answer them all politely before stepping away and heading back towards her own truck. The kids continue to chatter loudly as the telltale jingle of the ice cream truck turns on and a unified scream of joy peals around the lot. What a stupid jingle, I can't believe kids fall for that crap. I mean honestly, why do you even need a special jingle for ice cream? How hard is it to make a frozen treat? I bet Puck takes more time on his BBQ than she does and that's saying something about the man that can't remember his own phone number.
I walk over to my prep station to pull out necessary ingredients for tonight. The after school and work crowd is fast approaching and I need to prepare everything so I can get home fast for the new season of Real Housewives that I simply can't miss. Remembering to wash my hands and knives first, I begin slicing, dicing and chopping everything I need. Eventually I sit back and let everything cook, breathing in the delicious smell of cooked meats and the hint of something special cooking in the air.
I wonder briefly if the smell is why I can't seem to stay in a stable relationship and I surreptitiously sniff at my shirt before sighing and shrugging my shoulders. It's not really my fault if I smell like a nice piece of steak, if the girl can't take it then she can take a hike. Besides, I always shower when I get home because even if I don't smell like a holiday ham I still have the stains to prove otherwise. No one wants to go on a date with someone who wears an apron all day with pieces of salsa sticking to her arms. I walk over to the sink to wash my hands again before sitting down and mentally checking the list of things that still needed to be done.
Having done all my work for now I enjoy the small reprieve from taking orders and cooking. I reach over and open up my cooler to grab a nice chilled bottle of beer when I accidentally graze over the ice cream popsicle that Brittany gave me. I poke at it a few times and think back on how many of them I still have in my freezer when I realize I probably do have enough for the kids later.
A loud knock at my window startles me and I see Mike happily waving with a suspicious looking object in his hand. I sit there and cross my arms over my chest to glare at him until I see him roll his eyes at me and begin to slide open my window by force. Not wanting him to break my truck I hastily get up to open it all the way but not before smacking him soundly on the head.
"What's wrong with you? Do you know how expensive it would be to replace that window?"
"Oh come on, I knew you were just going to sit there and see how long it would take me to beg for you to open it, so I thought I'd take matters into my own hands."
"I will cut off your hands next time if you try that shit again, Chang."
"Jeez, relax won't you? Stop being so hot-headed. Speaking of which, I got you something to cool down."
"No."
"I didn't even tell you what it is yet!"
"I know what it is, why did you bring me one?"
"Chill out San, just because you saw her making out with some dude doesn't mean it's my fault. Besides, Brittany told Tina that she likes you so excuse me for trying to help you find a nice girl."
"She wasn't making out with some dude! She just kissed him on the cheek, but whatever. It doesn't matter, I didn't like her in the first place."
"Liar. Hey, her loss if she can't see past your Oscar the grouch routine, but anyway, just try one, it's good, I promise. Have I ever lied to you?"
He winks at me before placing the ice cream on my counter and walking back towards his own truck. I eye the thing and debate whether or not I should try one. Oh, to hell with it. Wondering what all the fuss is about and falling into temptation, I rip open the package and come face to face with a red stegosaurus popsicle, it's happy face beaming at me.
I angrily bite its head off first, eager to rid the smile from the damn thing but the burst of sweet strawberries in my mouth take me by surprise and I wonder how I had never tasted this before in my life. The chilled piece of popsicle swirls in my mouth and I crunch down harder to taste more of the delicious flavor. I have to hand it to her, as absentminded as Brittany may seem, she sure knows how to make a damn good ice cream. This time I take to licking the ice cream and even momentarily forget about my beer as I enjoy the cool taste in my mouth, perfect for fighting the heat in my kitchen and in the air.
I take a deep breath and am surprised to find that my mouth is still cold, turning the air I breathe in into a chill breeze as the taste of freshly picked strawberries lingers on my taste buds. Jesus, that is good ice cream! I can't tell if I'm frustrated because Brittany is obviously a skilled ice cream maker or that I've tricked myself into never trying one of the many ice cream bars she's given me. At least I now know why those damn kids like me so much when I drive by to drop these off.
Whatever, it shouldn't matter. Ice cream isn't even real food and desserts shouldn't be allowed to be part of the new food truck craze. I mean, really, does her truck need to be stationed with us? It's better off with all the other ice cream trucks roaming the city with its annoying jingle calling out to greedy children and their stupid parents. Licking the rest of the icy goodness off the wooden stick I throw it in the trash and dust myself off.
Downing the rest of my beer, I wait for the telltale silence of the dessert truck and smile as I realize that it's nearing dusk and a certain someone will be leaving soon as there aren't many customers fighting for a cold treat during a chilly night. The music stops and I smile before heading back to my station of prepped goods and clean up anything that needed done. I figured I had some time before the dinner crowd wandered over so I sat down and listened to the quiet murmurs of people walking by and Brittany's truck starting up before leaving. Finally, I can get some cooking going on!
Today seems to be a good day as I manage to almost sell out and I use a clean towel to wipe down my counters. I tidy up inside my truck and acknowledge any stray customers giving praise for my great food and cooking. Hey, what girl doesn't like a compliment, right? I rub off some sweat with the side of my shirt and sigh. Today was another tiring day but it went well and with the way my business is going I can continue towards my dream of owning a restaurant.
I see Puck and the vegan truck still around but I notice the Changs leaving so I close up shop and wave goodbye to them as they drive off. I start up my own truck, eager to drop off the ice cream and get to my trashy prime time shows and more beer. I speed up a little, whistling in tune to the radio and nodding my head to the beat. I eagerly make the last turn before the freeway only to have my wishes of a quiet night dashed. As if the powers that be were taking a dump on my life, there, right in front of me is the unicorned painted truck and its owner putting down emergency cones behind it. There is a small car in front of me that is undecided in whether to turn down another street or try to slip past the truck, so I honk mercilessly as it continues to just sit there. I honk again and am tempted to just ram into him when I see the driver do something extremely stupid.
I see a window roll down before a hand sticks out and a certain finger is pointed in my direction. And then I notice why the small car isn't moving. Lifting my eyes back to Brittany I catch her leaning over in her deep V-neck shirt to place another cone down and the view from where I am sitting is probably nothing like the one the person in front of me has. I briefly contemplate driving straight into his piece of junk vehicle until I hear the nagging voice of someone familiar telling me about lawsuits and a rap sheet.
Incensed that I'm not allowed to use physical force, I think up another devious plan and smile slowly as I search under my passenger seat for something I haven't used since I first started the food truck business and needed to get people to try my food. I turn my high beams on and continue to flash the car in front of me until I see Brittany squinting her eyes at the brightness of my headlights. My lights illuminate a disgusting face looking back at me as the driver tries to peer through my lights and out his back windshield.
Tired of his shit and general ugliness I roll my window down to stick my head out and bring up the megaphone. The loud crackle of the speaker comes to life and I see the man in the car in front of me flinch from the sound.
"To the asshole pervert in the disgusting beat up Toyota in front of me! Can you please stop looking down women's shirts and move or do I have to ram my truck so far into your bumper that your wide load ass will soon turn into its own airbag? Move your damn car, asshole!"
The pervert's face is shocked only for a minute before I see his mouth move in what I guess is his way of telling me to shut up. I flash my high beams at his face again just to see what he would do and after a second I see his drivers door open. Not willing to take a visit to the local police station today, I wait until I see a foot come out the door before revving my engine hard. Just to make sure I get my message across, I scream out again.
"Try me, you bastard. See if I don't run you over the minute you step out of your car!"
I watch his one leg still as he hears me yell out to him before it wisely retreats back into the beat up Toyota and he screeches off, but not before flipping me the finger again. Ready to chase and run him down regardless of consequences I step on my gas only to see the wide and shocked face of Brittany now in front of my truck. Oh just fantastic, this day obviously can't get any better.
I sigh before turning my engine off and taking my keys out. I take my time getting out and silently berate myself for trying to be a good Samaritan, or whatever this is. Brittany calls my name and I look up to see her waving enthusiastically at me before I grunt in her direction and take a look at our surroundings.
"Santana! I thought it was you, but it was so bright and I couldn't see because it was so dark and then that guy-"
"Save it. Look I'm kind of sort of in a hurry so like what do you need? Something's wrong with your truck, right? Why else would you be stalled in a local street blocking traffic and putting down emergency cones attracting all the slimy guys in a 10 mile radius?"
"I wasn't attracting anything!"
"Yeah, okay, whatever. Look, do you need my help or not?"
"Yes?"
"Alright then, what's the problem?"
"Right! Yeah, I think the battery is dead or something because my truck won't turn on and my ice cream is melting and I left my phone at home today and I don't know what to do and-"
"Stop! Relax. Breathe, woman! If it's a battery problem I'll just go grab my jumper cables and juice it, should be fine after that. Whoa, hey, are you crying?"
"No…"
"Yes, you are. Look, I'll give you a jump and then we can get on with our lives, okay?"
"I guess. Thank you for the jump."
She begins to say something else but I quickly pop open the backdoor to my truck instead and search around for my jumper cables while trying to hide my embarrassment as I imagine the dual meaning of our conversation. Aiming to just drive my front end close enough to her truck to plug the cables in, I stick my keys back into the ignition until I hear a strange sound to my left. I look over and I see Brittany climbing into my passenger seat and buckling in before flashing me a smile and waiting.
"What are you doing?"
"Sitting here."
"I know, but why are you sitting here, woman?"
"My name is Brittany, you know that, Santana. I've talked to you almost every day for the past-"
"Not what I asked. Why are you in my truck?"
"I thought I could help."
"Help what?"
"Help you, of course. Now come on, silly, didn't you say you were going to give me a jump?"
Exasperated and unsure if she really meant what she said I begin to get the sense that tonight is going to be a long one as I feel a small headache coming on while I maneuver my truck over to hers. I pop the hood of both our trucks and attach the cables to our batteries before going over to my passenger door and clearing my throat loudly.
"I need you to be in your truck now and try starting it up again, okay? I'll call out to tell you when."
"Okay…"
I try to ignore the lithe and smooth legs sliding out of my seat and walking away from me by shaking my head and focusing on the situation. Climbing back into my seat I wait until Brittany is settled and then yell out to start her engine while I step on the gas. I rev a few times to get the engine going as I hear clicking noises coming from her truck. I cross my fingers that it's going to work as I push down a little harder to give it more gas but the hollow clicking noises of her dead engine only echoes back. I send a silent curse up into the heavens before turning everything off and motion for Brittany to do the same. I unlatch the jumper cables and sigh at the forlorn look on the ice cream maker's face.
"I guess it's not your battery then…sorry."
"Yeah, it's okay. It was a hot day and I guess my coolers used up all the power. I just wish I didn't have to throw away all these ice creams. It's such a waste. Anyway, can I borrow your phone? I need to call someone to get my truck."
Nodding and passing her my phone, I see her fidget anxiously while she waits for someone to pick up and a wave of relief comes over her face as she begins to state her problem to the other person on the line. With nothing to do, I turn back to my own truck and let Brittany speak to the towing company while alerting her that I'll be going back to my own space, leaving her to deal with her problems. I don't get two steps away before a quick hand latches onto the sleeve of my jacket and I turn around and lift my eyebrow questioning her actions. Her lips silently mouth the word 'wait' and I sigh out in exasperation as she finishes up with the rest of her conversation.
"Yes, alright. Thank you again. Yes, I understand. By tomorrow at the latest, please. Thanks, bye."
Brittany continues to hold onto my sleeve as she smiles in gratitude and slips my phone back into my jacket pocket. I feel a slight movement in my arm and I glance down to see her fingers rubbing the material of my sleeve. Her hand slides all the way to my collar and begins to fiddle with it as the slightest brush of her knuckles against my neck sends a shiver down my spine. A quick press of her soft lips against my cheek is all I feel as her kiss almost makes me miss the words coming out of her mouth.
"Thank you, Santana. That was really nice of you."
"Umm yeah, no sweat. So they're going to come and get you now, right? Good, because I'm going to head out and-"
"Actually, I was wondering if you could give me a lift."
"A what?"
"I kind of need a ride home to drop off all my ice cream before it melts. I can't let it just sit here waiting for the tow truck guys. Please? I swear I'll pay you back."
"Lady, I don't want your money, okay? Plus, I'm already kind of late so I have to get going."
"No, wait! I'll owe you one. Anything you want, at any time, I'll be there!"
"Anything, you say?"
"Anything, Santana."
"Sweet, well then I'm calling in that favor now. Since the ice cream is already melting as we speak, let's throw them in my freezer and we can get going. Oh, and I also want at least a third of them for keeps. Deal?"
"But I thought you didn't like any of the flavors I gave you, that's why I've been giving you a different kind everyday. I never see you eat it though..."
"Not the point, do we have a deal?"
"I guess..."
"Fantastic, let's get a move on then."
A/N: Yay for new fic! It's a relatively short one. Only about 3 chapters long I think and I don't plan to further it. It's just something funny and fluffy to bring in the new year. I kind of miss writing nonsensical humor after writing my other fics for so long so I'm bringing it back to you via Santana and her taco truck. Yes the pun is already there I know but let's be serious, taco trucks are amazing haha. I hope you all enjoy this and let me know what you think :)