"High school is about experimenting, right?" Santana said, and then kissed me for the first time. It was freshmen year; before we were popular, before boys were all over us. We were just two little girls to the upperclassmen. Boys didn't even look at us. They didn't think about us either. Santana and I were just two flat chested girls who were new to McKinley. Jocks wouldn't be caught dead with us back then.
My hair was short, like it is now. I really liked it that way. But I was forced to grow it out sophomore year when I joined the Cheerios. My clothing was pretty much the same. I would wear pretty dresses every day. Santana once told me that jeans made me look hippy. I realize now that she was being a bitch, but I didn't notice back then. I idolized Santana. She was so cool. Sometimes seniors would talk to her! Why wouldn't they? Every day she wore a low cut top and skinny jeans that revealed everything God gave her. Santana also stuffed her bra. We were both just starting to develop, me much slower than her. I thought her boobs were fine, but she insisted on stuffing them every morning before school.
I was in love with Santana. I tried to ignore it, because I thought that if she ever found out, that she would hate me. Every weekend she would come over to my house and we would have a sleep-over. We would stay up late, just talking. Those talks are what made me fall in love with her. I could tell her everything and she could tell me everything. It felt so easy talking to her.
One night, she was over at my house. We had just fangirled over some new Disney Channel movie. We talked about that movie for hours. Now that I think about it, the movie was really dumb and I have no idea why we liked it so much. I guess because we were together. Anyway, after a while she fell asleep. I wasn't really tired so I stayed up and watched some more TV. Then I heard it. In her sleep, Santana whispered "Quinn." I thought I heard wrong, so I ignored it. But then she said it again. She was dreaming about me. Sex dream or not, Santana was thinking about me.
Every weekend, Santana came over to my house. And every weekend I had to pretend that I wasn't madly in love with her. It may sound cheesy but every time I was with her, I fell more and more in love with her. I thought my feelings would eventually go away, but they didn't. Sometimes I thought that Santana might have feelings for me too. She started saying "Quinn" in her sleep more often. And sometimes I swear she would flirt with me. Of course I flirted back, not wanting to miss an opportunity.
One Saturday night changed everything. Santana said she would come over later than usual. She never really gave me an answer to why, but I thought nothing of it. Santana showed up at my house at around eleven. Her hair was a mess and it looked like she had put on her clothes in a hurry.
"Guess what!" Santana jumped on my bed next to me.
"What?" I asked.
"I had sex with Puck." She said.
I felt like the world was ending. Like time stopped or something. Nothing was making sense. Santana hated Puck. She despised him actually. At our very first pep rally, he pulled her skirt down, revealing her pink underwear. After that, she always talked about how much she hated him. But now they were having sex? I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted to yell.
"Get out." I said through clenched teeth. Santana looked hurt, but I'm sure I looked ten times more hurt.
"Why?" She asked.
"I never want to see you again." I said.
"Q. You don't mean that!"
"Yes I do!" I yelled.
"What did I do?" Santana asked.
"I love you, Santana. I've loved you for as long as I can remember. I know I try to hide it, but I know sometimes you can tell. You say my name in your sleep!" I said, fighting back the tears.
"I just go away, ok?" I whispered, looking down.
Santana didn't move. She just sat there staring at me. Her face was blank. It killed me not to know what she was thinking. Then, she crawled over to me. Santana was now between my legs, looking right into my eyes.
"High school is about experimenting, right?" Santana said, and then kissed me for the first time. It was my first kiss, and it was amazing. I felt complete. We continued kissing for a few more minutes until she pulled away. She stared at me, and I couldn't read her face again.
"I don't know why I did it with Puck." She confessed. "You should have been my first."
I smiled at her, and we kissed again. This time it was a lot more heated. She put her hand under my shirt, and I knew what she wanted. I wasn't sure if I wanted it, or if I just went through with it because it was Santana. But we did it.
It's now 2016, and I'm in my dorm at Yale. It's my last year here. I'm single. I have been since I started. Every once in a while I think about Santana and our freshmen, and I fall into a deep depression. I never loved someone as much as I loved Santana. I haven't talked to her since graduation, except for on Facebook. Sometimes we talk about freshmen year. But most of the time we talk about school and friends. Santana spends a lot of time with Rachel, Kurt, and Finn. I don't really spend time with anyone. I'm really lonely these days. I miss Santana. I miss my friends. I even miss Rachel. My life just hasn't been the same since freshmen year.