"Hi, Ms. Corcoran, how are you?" Santana said, leaning in to hug her favourite former teacher.
"You can call me Shelby now, Santana. How's Brittney?" Shelby inquired, returning the hug.
"Nope, you'll always be Ms. Corcoran to me. Brittany's perfect, just like always. So what've you got for me?" Santana Lopez was inspired to become a therapist after Ms. Corcoran had helped her through so much in her teen years. When she graduated with her degree, she moved back to Lima and married the love of her life, Brittany Pierce. Now Brittany coached the Cheerio's, and Santana was McKinley High's on-call therapist.
Shelby Corcoran, the school's college counselor, sat down at the small table in her office, motioning for Santana to join her. "One of my college counseling kids has gotten progressively withdrawn over the past few months. She always falls asleep in my college counseling class now, her grades are slipping, and frankly, I don't know what to do with her. So I called you."
"Have you tried talking to her?" Santana questioned, immediately.
"She's a lot like you, San. Like, almost frighteningly similar." Shelby trailed off.
"What does that have to do with anything?" Santana asked.
"Have you tried talking to you about your feelings?" Shelby retorted, incredulously.
"Hey! I talk about stuff now."
"Yeah, okay, let me rephrase. Have you tried talking to your high school self about feelings?" Shelby asked again, giving Santana a knowing look.
Santana grimaced, "Okay, I'll try talking to her and see what I get."
"Thank you," Shelby sighed. "I asked her to drop by my office around 10ish...which is in about seven minutes."
"Does she know I'm here? Like, did she agree to talk to me?"
"No, but I'm sure she'll be receptive, she's pretty easygoing and-"
Shelby was cut off by Santana, "If she's anything like me, she will walk out of this office the moment you mention I'm a therapist."
"I don't know," Shelby stopped as Santana returned the knowing look Shelby had given her earlier.
"I guess we'll see," Santana smirked, as a light knock sounded on the door.
Shelby stood up to open it revealing a tall, muscular yet lean and lanky girl, with shoulder length blonde hair that was yanked into a ponytail. "Oh, sorry," the girl began, "I didn't realize you were talking to someone, I'll wait outside."
The girl began backing out the door, only to be stopped by Shelby's hand on her shoulder gently forcing her into the room, "No, Ashton, she's supposed to be here. Come in, sit down." Ashton hesitantly walked into the room, ungracefully dumping her backpack on the ground and slumping into one of the seats around the small table. "Ashton, this is Ms. Lopez, she was my student here about seven years ago," Shelby began.
Ashton stood and offered her hand to the women across the table from her. "Nice to meet you," she said quietly, giving a curious Santana a firm handshake.
"You too," Santana said, as Ashton sat back down.
"Mr. Schuester and I coached her in Glee when we won the National Championships," Shelby continued.
"Cool," Ashton murmured, unenthusiastically.
"She's also here to talk to you. She's a therapist, and I think it would be good for you-" Shelby was cutoff by Ashton standing abruptly and flinging her bag back onto her back.
"I don't need a therapist," the girl directed at Shelby. "Nice meeting you," Ashton said, nodding at Santana, before quickly leaving the office.
"Don't say I told you so!" Shelby scolded, the moment Santana opened her mouth.
Santana slowly shut it. Then opened it and quickly shot out, "I told you so."
Shelby collapsed into the chair behind her desk, while Santana remained sitting at the small table in her former teacher's office. "You did tell me so. Damn it. I thought she'd at least let me finish the sentence."
"I wouldn't have let you finish. But she seems a lot more polite than I was in high school," Santana mused, inspecting her nails.
"Yeah, she is. But she's as stubborn as they come. Granted she's always polite about it, but it can be infuriating. You were the same way, but a little less polite," Shelby said making eye contact with Santana, who quickly shifted her eyes back down to her nails.
"Huh," she assented. "You're really worried about her," Santana pressed, softly.
"Yeah," Shelby sighed for the second time that day. "She was a different kid at the beginning of the year. Or not different, but just more engaged. Now, every time she says anything it seems calculated. Nothing she says isn't thought completely through."
Santana tilted her head to the side, "Is she in Glee with you and Mr. Schue?"
"Nope. I've never heard her sing. I've heard she's in a pretty serious children's chorus, so she's got to be good, but for some reason she's never joined. That's one of the things that introduced me to her hard head. She refused to even come to an informational meeting about Glee when I asked."
"Are you guys close?" Santana asked.
"I wouldn't call us close, but she's closer to me than any other teacher. She's like you sophomore and junior year of high school: you desperately needed help, but you were too proud to accept it or ask for it."
Santana nodded thoughtfully. "Does she play any sports here?"
Shelby laughed softly, "Basically all of them. Right now, she's on swim team. She had surgery on her ankle two months ago, but she talked Quinn into letting her swim. Against my advice, of course."
"Naturally," Santana smiled, standing up. "Alright, I'm going to go to Quinn's swim practice. Don't worry I won't talk to Ashton against her stubborn wishes," Santana interrupted as Shelby began to speak. "Let me know when you need me to come in again. I'd like to talk to her. I think it'd help."
"Me too," Shelby stood to hug Santana. "Say 'hi' to Brittany for me."
"I will, see you Ms. Corcoran," Santana waved as she walked out of the office.
Santana climbed the stairs to the pool deck, and pushed the small gate open. Quinn, who had returned to McKinley to teach English and ended up coaching the swim team too, saw her walking over. "Hey, Santana!"
"Hi Quinn, how's the hubby?" Santana teased, giving the blonde a side hug.
"He's wonderful as always, how's the wifey?" Quinn quipped back at Santana.
"Brittany's great per usual. I can't believe you married the Puckosaurus," Santana scoffed slightly. "It always amazes me..." She trailed off and laughed at the look Quinn was giving her. "Sorry, sorry, it's just hard to believe he's turned respectable. Anyways, I have a question." Quinn raised an eyebrow, indicating Santana to continue. "Tell me about Ashton?"
"Ashton Ames? Why?" Quinn asked bluntly.
"Ms. Corcoran asked me to talk to her."
Quinn nodded, "Good, she has seemed a little quieter lately. I have nothing but good things to say about her, though. She works hard and complains less than anyone, even though she just had ankle surgery."
"Has she been working any harder lately? Or less hard?"
"I mean as her ankle gets better, she's been pushing herself harder. So yeah, she's working harder, to answer your question," Quinn finished, then walked forward to give her team their next set.
Santana made brief eye contact with Ashton as the girl removed her goggles to tighten them, but Ashton dropped her eyes almost immediately. When Quinn returned, Santana bid her goodbye and left the school.