Written for a word prompt: Late. I got bored and taa-daa this happened. Enjoy
It didn't really matter what Santana thought would happen in the last 5 minutes of the school year but the problem was she couldn't make up her mind. She had three choices and two of them would definitely end up with her punching someone; honestly she didn't like those odds. Santana sighed, constantly going over the pros and cons while trying to gather her thoughts and lower her heart rate. Easier said than done.
Mr Schue was droning on about how New Directions would do better next year and Santana could help but roll her eyes, breaking eye contact with everyone in the room. Every so often she would glance at the clock, shaking her head slightly when Brittany would shoot her a questioning look; there was nothing to explain. 3 minutes left and Santana felt tense, gripping onto the chair for dear life and made her choice. After all, she had all of summer to avoid people and flee the country if she had to. She always wanted to visit Europe.
After finally work up the courage, taking a few deep breaths for the announcement she was intent on making, she sat patiently for Rachel to finish babbling on about her summer plans. She cleared her throat and opened her mouth...but nothing, no words spilled from her lips. She jumped slightly as the bell rang and sat staring straight ahead, barely aware as everyone packed up their stuff and left the room with calls of 'have a good summer' over their shoulders.
Santana deflated back into her chair, her grip on the metal frame became slack as she watch the last few leave, wondering if the feeling in her chest is relief or disappointment. She let out the breath she was holding, picking up her bag with a sigh and shrugged her shoulders at Brad when she walked past him as if saying 'i tried'. The clicks of her heels echoed down the empty hall, making the feeling in her chest coil and knot, painfully reminding her that she was alone.
Santana opened her locker and grabbed all the books out of it to shove in her bag, grumbling in angry broken spanish when some of her papers fell onto the floor. She crouched down to pick them up, resisting the urge to rip them up when a folded post it caught her eye. Santana picked it up and sat back against the lockers, unfolding it with care. The knot in her chest loosened, the lonely feeling slowly disappearing as the number she had memorised since she was 6 stared back at her. Santana couldn't hold in her amused laugh as she read 'call me 3' and a misspelled version of anonymous written below it.
There's no denying that things have sucked lately but it's little things like this that kept Santana happy, slowly pushing her to come out with all guns blazing, not giving a damn what anyone thought. The flash of blonde hair frantically trying to hide around the corner of the hallway behind her reminded Santana that this wasn't just for herself. The echo of the second pair of heels trying to keep in time with Santana's steps (Brittany never was the best ninja) reminded her she wasn't in this alone.
Santana paused at the doorway, using the last bit of courage she had to stand her ground, not bothering to check to see if they were alone, "i love you".
Her response was a squeak and the clang of someone hitting a locker, obviously trying to hide before a quiet 'love you too' made its way to her ears, encouraging her even more.
'Next time' she silently promised with a wave of her hand, the sun hitting her face as she left McKinley behind, 'I'll be stronger'.
Santana could tell them at Mike's party on Sunday.
She figured that was a capital idea.