Author's Note: This chapter serves as a quasi-prologue for this story; a beginning to the friendship between Rachel & Santana. The rest of the story, however, will follow the show's plot-line. Up until the end, that is.
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, or anything else I may mention throughout this story.
VI
"What are you doing?"
Santana was in the middle of patting down her sandcastle when she hears an unfamiliar voice above her. Through squinted eyes, she looks up to see the outline of a little girl with long pigtails staring down at her. A halo of light formed around the girls head, making it difficult for Santana to get a clear look at her face, so she focuses her eyes back down to her sandcastle. Any other time, Santana would have told her to get lost -especially on the rare days when the sandbox is out- but since it was getting hot and the girls head was blocking the sun, she held back. Instead she replies, "What does it look like I'm doing? Making a sandcastle, duh."
The girl points a short finger at the lackluster wall. "It doesn't look like a very good sandcastle."
Santana sucks her teeth. "What do you know about sandcastles anyway? Nobody asked you." She turns around, away from the girl, and continues working on her wall. The sand wasn't sticking together as it should, so she patted the sand further down into the bucket with her plastic shovel. If she was just able to get the—
"Actually, I know quite a lot about sandcastles. I make them all the time. I'm Rachel Berry by the way." Rachel moves around to Santana's line of view, and sits down on the opposite side of her. She holds her hand out for Santana to take, but when Santana ignores her to finish working on her castle, she prods, "Aren't you going to tell me your name?"
"Ugh, Santana. My name is Santana." She rolls her eyes dramatically, a habit she picked up from her older sister, and doesn't look up.
"Santana…" She trails off, waiting for Santana to finish her sentence.
"Lopez. Lo-pez," she huffs out. She holds the bucket up to her face, blocking Rachel from her view. From behind the bucket, she states, "There are plenty of other kids here, ya know."
"I don't really have any friends." Rachel nervously looks around at the other children in the school yard, who were running around in the afternoon sun. She recognizes a boy on the monkey bars, shouting orders down to another boy with thick, round glasses. "Well, I know that boy over there, but we don't talk. He's in my Hebrew School." Santana ignores her and remains fixed on building her sandcastle. She has no clue what a Hebrew School is anyway. Rachel diverts her attention back to Santana and asks, "Where did you learn to make sandcastles Santana?"
"From my friend Aphasia. She doesn't go to this school though," she answers carelessly.
"I learned how to make sandcastles by watching other kids make them. And I know how to make a really good one. If you build a moat around the castle, it provides support for the main building. After that, you can put—"
"You know, you talk a lot for someone with no friends." Once again, Santana shifts her body away from Rachel's. This girl with no friends just yammered on; plus, she hadn't quite grown into her large teeth and she constantly spat in Santana's face.
Rachel's face drops and almost inaudibly, she lets out, "I'm sorry. My daddies warned me about speaking too much in front of new people. I'll leave you now."
She gets up slowly, looking around for a teacher to talk to (at least they were supposed to be nice to her) but was stopped when a small hand grabs hers and pulls her back into the sandbox. A small "oomph" escapes her when she hits the ground, but Santana ignores her. "Wait, 'daddies'?", she asks. "As in, 'not a mommy and a daddy', but two daddies?" Rachel's mouth twitches and her eyes grow slightly wet, but she nods. "You can do that?" Again, Rachel nodded.
"Woah," Santana lets the bucket she was holding fall and she stares straight past Rachel's head with wide eyes.
"I know that my family might not be like yours, but a family is a family." Her words come out rushed and she's pretty sure that Santana didn't even hear her through her mumbling. She may be young, but already she knows that her family is different from everyone else's. At least, that's the only reason she can think of when other parents stare at her and her father's in the street. Rachel stands up again, brushing sand off her tweed dress—
"That is so cool." Rachel stops and turns to look down at Santana, who's staring up at her with a broad smile. The first Santana had throughout their entire conversation.
Rachel's mouth hangs open, and all she can muster up is, "W-what?"
Santana stands eye to eye with Rachel, accidentally kicking over her attempted sandcastle in the process. "Yeah. It's cool that you have two dads. I mean, it kinda sucks if you don't have a mommy, but I love my daddy. It would be so cool to have two of them."
In a moment, Santana is swallowed up by bushy, dark brown hair and Rachel's arms cling around her neck. They're hugging, well, Rachel's hugging, and Santana swear's that she can feel's Rachel's heart beating through her chest. Awkwardly, Santana reaches around and gives Rachel a few pats on her back. When she finally does pull away, Santana can see wispy tears clinging to her eyelashes.
"Uhm, you okay?"
The girl smiles and wipes away a few of her tears with the back of her hand. "Yes. I'm fine Santana." She gives Santana the toothiest grin she's ever seen.
Santana's eyes fall to the pit they're in, the remains of her forgotten sandcastle around her Chuck Taylor's and Rachel's Mary Janes. Biting her lip, she looks up and asks, "Wanna help me make a new one?"
Rachel nods and tugs on Santana's hand, pulling them down to the pit. "Here' I'll start with the North Wall over here and you can make the fort over—"
Before she can finish her orders, Santana places her hand over the girl's mouth. "Listen Rachel, if we're gonna do this, were gonna do it as a team, okay?" She hands Rachel a bucket and she grabs the other one from behind her. "How about we both make the North Wall." More of a question than a statement, she removes her hands from Rachel's mouth and holds up a small, plastic shovel.
Rachel gingerly takes the shovel from Santana and nods. "Good," Santana says.
They spend the rest of recess knee-deep in sand, building a sandcastle together.
X
"Rachel, do you ever shut up? We've been here for like, 10 minutes and I'm getting a headache." Santana slams her head back onto the bulletin board behind her, bringing a finger to her temple to run circles over it. She and Rachel had been waiting to be seen outside the Principals Office— well, she was waiting to be seen. Rachel was just waiting with her. She and Puckerman (who stopped going by "Noah" once he saw James Bond) got into a fight. Again.
It was the sixth time this month and their teacher, Mr. Tennenbaum -or Mr. Tits as Santana liked to call him when he wasn't around- had finally had enough when he sent them to the Principals office.
"Well I am sorry if my words are offending you Santana, but I am a little more than nervous." Rachel's hands begin to play with the ends of her pleated skirt. "It's the first time I've ever been sent to the principal's office."
Santana groans out, "Are you forgetting that I was the one sent to the Principals office? You just tagged along." She tilts her head to the side to glance at Rachel, who had slumped her shoulders at Santana's statement. "Hey," she reaches out and places on of her hands on top of Rachel's. "Thanks, ya know. For staying with me." She offers Rachel a genuine smile. One that is returned.
"Well, thank you Santana, for sticking up for me from Noah. Well, Puckerman." Her eyes fall to the linoleum tiles on the floor. "He's still 'Noah' in Hebrew School. I guess I have a hard time separating the two."
Santana squeezes her hand a little. "No problem Rach. If anyone is going to throw cereal at your head, it's gonna be me."
"Comforting." Santana's laugh elicits a giggle from Rachel. After the laughter dies down, Rachel removes her hand from underneath Santana's to run her fingers along her cheek where a dark purple bruise is forming. Santana winces from the pain and pushes Rachel's hands away. "You should put some ice on that before it swells even further. That's what my dad's do for me whenever I get hurt."
Santana opens her mouth to call Rachel "Captain Obvious", but the words never leave her lips. Behind Rachel's head, someone was approaching.
"Is this seat taken?" Startled, Rachel turns to look at the blond girl that seemed to appear of nowhere. She stands there smiling hesitantly, eying the empty seat. Rachel takes the initiate.
"Why not at all! Hi, my name is Rachel Berry—" she stands abruptly, offering her hand to the blond and is startled by the fact that she is nearly a head taller then her. "Goodness, you're tall." The blonds smile falters. "How rude of me. Sorry." She reaches her hand out and shakes the other girls' vehemently.
"This is Santana Lopez." Rachel turns to Santana, who's sitting there with her hand covering her bruised cheek. With her other hand, Santana gives a small wave and mumbles incomprehensibly to herself. "Anyway, sit down…I'm sorry, but what is your name?"
"Brittany," She replies as she takes a seat on the bench next to Rachel. "Brittany S. Pierce. But I'm not the Pop Star. Although I can dance just as good as her. Maybe better in a few years."
Santana and Rachel exchange a small glance before turning back to the blond. "Right..." Rachel leaves off.
"Why are you covering your face?" Brittany leans forward enough to get a look at Santana, who still has her hand covering her cheek.
She clears her throat before answering, "I, uh, I got into a fight." Santana looks at Brittany briefly before finding the floor suddenly more interesting.
"Why?"
"Some kid was throwing Cheerios at Rachel's head," Santana tilts her head towards Rachel who had suddenly also found the floor more interesting. "So I punched him." She shrugs her shoulders as if it meant nothing. "Plus, I hate Cheerios. If he was going to throw cereal at someone's head, it could have at least been a good tasting cereal."
Rachel chuckles at Santana's comment, and looks over at Brittany. She had a look of, well confusion. Judging by the glazed over look on her face, Rachel had wondered if the girl had even understood a word that Santana had said.
"Do you like Froot Loops, Santana?" Brittany questions.
For the second time, Santana and Rachel exchange glances. It was their turn to have looks of confusion on their faces. "Uh, yeah, I guess so."
"Well, Froot Loops are just gay Cheerios. They're the same thing on the inside. If you like one, you're bound to like the other." The blond reaches into her book bag and pulls out a vintage Darkwing Duck lunchbox. Without hesitation, she opens it and digs her hand inside. After a few seconds of rummaging, she pulls her hand out and the two girls realize that it is filled with…Cheerios. Smiling, she pops a few into her mouth. She then adds, simply, "I love Cheerios. They're great." She smiles to herself before turning back to Santana. "But, that was nice of you sticking up for your friend like that."
Rachel and Santana stare at Brittany for minutes, or even possibly years, both, with their mouths agape and raised eyebrows. Absentmindedly, Brittany continues to chew on her cereal.
The door to the office flies open and the Principal steps out with an intimidating glare. "Miss. Lopez, you have a- Miss. Berry, what are you doing here?" Once his gaze falls on Rachel, his expression changes and he throws a hand to his cheek, rubbing it slowly.
Rachel stands with her hands on her hips in front of Santana, "Principal Briggs, I am here because I am a witness to the incident between Santana and No-Puckerman. I was in the classroom at the time of the fight and can provide accurate—"
Principals Briggs waves his hands in the air dramatically, as if her were wiping away Rachel's comment. "Miss. Berry, I do not want to hear it. Return to your classroom immediately." He looks beyond Rachel and spots Brittany, quietly eating her cereal. "New Student?" She nods enthusiastically. "Okay, I'll be with you in a minute. Miss. Lopez- Stay," Santana crosses her arms over her shoulders and once again bangs her head on the board behind her. "Miss. Berry- Class. Now."
As the door slams behind Principal Briggs, Rachel jumps a little. She shuffles her feet before turning and muttering, "Sorry Santana."
Santana uncrosses her arms and sighs a little. "It's okay Rach. I'll be fine." Her eyes glance over at Brittany for a quick second. "I'll see you after school, okay."
Rachel smiles slightly and nods. "See you later, Santana." She turns to look at Brittany who's still chewing on her cereal. "It was nice meeting you Brittany."
Brittany smiles, Cheerios stuck in between her teeth, a gives Rachel a wave. "See you later, Rachel."
When Rachel is halfway down the hallway, she looks behind her at the two girls. Faintly, she hears Brittany's voice.
"Want some Cheerios? You might like them more than you thought." Santana doesn't reply, but she does grab a handful from Brittany's lunchbox. Rachel chews on her lip for a moment, but turns back around wand walks with intent. She is definitely going to give Noah Puckerman a piece of her mind when she gets back to class.
IIX
"Aside from helping Brittany with her tumbling all summer, I also had to convince her that Artie was not a robot. She still doesn't believe me." Santana and Rachel were sprawled out on Rachel's bed, flipping through magazines and occasionally tossing jelly beans at each other. Santana's Cheering Camp had ended the day before, giving them one last week together before the start of school. "I'm telling you Rachel, Cheerleading Camp is nothing like what they show on TV. It's all blood, sweat, tears and girls with low self-esteem." She flips a page and adds, "The only good thing was that I got to watch the sunrise every morning without the smog of Lima to clutter it up."
Rachel was on her back, staring up at the gold stars that line her ceiling. Curiously, she asks, "You told me you didn't like Cheerleading. Why ask your parents to send you to Cheerleading Camp?" She turns her head towards Santana who's sitting at the head of the bed.
She flicks her eyes across the page before mumbling, "Because Brittany wanted me to go with her."
Rachel replies with an, "Aah." Santana hits her lightly on the head before reopening it and continuing on with her article. Rachel's laugh cut into her concentration.
"Whatever Rachel. I bet your Singing Camp was much more fun than Cheerleading. Plus, I haven't even told you the worst of it," Rachel sits up, facing Santana on the bed, and folds her legs. "Remember that blond chick that moved a few streets down from you?" Rachel nods. "She was there too. She's all 'buddy-buddy' with Britt. Turns out her name is Quinn. Quinn Fabray. Puh, more like Quinn Fa-bitch."
"Santana!" Rachel lightly slaps Santana on her shoulder. "No swearing in my house! My fathers are home!"
"Sorry. Anyway," she rushes out, "point is, I can't stand the girl. I only hope she doesn't try to permanently be friends with us."
Rachel shrugs before lying back down on the bed. "I don't know. I think she's pretty. Really pretty actually."
"God Rach, you can't be serious? She looks like someone created her in a lab or something. No natural beauty at all. I bet she isn't even a natural blond- and don't let me get started on that nose. It looks totally fake." Santana's eyes never lift up from her magazine, so she doesn't notice when Rachel subconsciously raises a hand to her face at the mention of the word 'nose'. "Please Rachel, you're so much prettier than Quinn."
Rachel blinks a few times, to make sure that she actually heard what she thought she did. She sits up slowly, staring at Santana with an expression that is a mixture of intensity and gratitude. "What did you just say?"
Santana peers over the top of her magazine and is slightly startled by Rachel's expression. "Uhh, that you're much prettier than Quinn." Rachel looks as if she's on the verge of tears and Santana's seen that expression before. She places her magazine down and sighs. "Yeah Rach, you're pretty. Look, I know that you're sensitive about your nose and shi- stuff, but it's cool, okay. That natural beauty thing I was talking about- you totally have it. Your nose is awesome and it looks real. Okay."
Santana isn't even entirely sure that Rachel heard her at all by the way she just seems to be staring through the girl. Her thoughts are squashed however, when all she can see is a mane of brown hair and all she can feel are small arms encircling her. She smiles, and reaches her arms around Rachel, affectionately patting her on the back.
"You're such a girl." Her words are muffled in Rachel's hair.
"Whatever Brittany." Rachel teases out. Santana pulls back, holding Rachel at arm's length.
"Oh no you did not—" Before she can even get out a good comeback, she Rachel is out of her arms and down the stairs. Santana spends the rest of the afternoon chasing Rachel around the Berry's backyard.
IIIX
"Good afternoon Mr. Lopez, may I see Santana please." Rachel flashes a smile at Santana's father.
"Hi Rachel. She's upstairs with Brittany." Mr. Lopez waves her in and goes back into the den, positioning himself between a sofa and the newspaper.
She never usually comes to Santana's house without announcing herself, but her nerves had gotten to her. Tomorrow was the first day of High School and her mind was running with ideas. Making friends never really did come easy to her, Santana being the only exception, and even that took a little pull. She came on a whim for reassurance- reassurance that High School would be different than all the other previous school years. As she climbs up the stairs, she made a mental note to herself about asking Santana is she wouldn't mind joining the Glee club at McKinley. After all, she did start cheering because of Brittany, so she probably wouldn't mind joining Glee if she asked.
She's lost in her own thoughts about Glee when she hears…something. Something curious. It was almost as if she heard—no, it couldn't be. She reaches out for the door handle and hears it again. In a matter of seconds, her head is filled with ideas of what she could possibly be hearing. Curiosity wins out, so grips the door handle and pushes it in.
She has to hold onto the handle to keep herself from falling flat on her face at the sight. They were lying with their heads to the edge of the bed, Brittany's hands on either side of Santana's face. Santana frantically wraps a hand around Brittany's body and drags it up through Brittany's hair. Rachel watches as Santana's free hand roams dangerously close towards the other girls' waist.
She wants to leave. She wants turn back. To go back home and forget what she saw- what she's seeing. She attempts to move, but her legs have betrayed her and are numb. Instead, she stands there incompetently, watching as Brittany removes her lips from Santana's and attaches them to her neck. After a few seconds of…searching (that's what Rachel thinks anyway), Santana relinquishes her grip on Brittany's head and rolls her own back onto the bed sheets. With her eyes closed, she bites her lip and lets out a small noise. The same Rachel heard on her way upstairs. Santana opens her eyes briefly and catches a glimpse of Rachel standing in her doorway.
"RACHEL!" Santana yells and partially sits upright, causing Brittany to slide further down onto Santana's lap.
Rachel stays in her place, hand still gripping the door, as she watches Santana bury her face in her hands, mumbling incoherently. Brittany, looking between Santana and Rachel, nervously says, "Hey, Rachel." Santana tares her face away from her hands and glares at Rachel.
"I-I'm sorry." Rachel stammers out. Before she can say anything else, Santana wriggles herself from under Brittany's lap, grabs Rachel's hand, and bounds down the stairs. Thoughts fly through Rachel's head as she is whisked off to the Lopez's back yard. Santana, panting heavily, finally releases Rachel's hand, and paces around the yard.
Santana's frantic; her movements are sporadic, jerky and unsettling to say the least. She looks at Rachel as if she is going to say something- she actually comes and plants herself right in front of her, breathing so hard Rachel wonders if she is about to pass out. After a few seconds, Santana huffs out and continues on her pacing through the yard.
"Why didn't you tell me Santana?"
She stops her pace a few yards away from Rachel, and through gritted teeth, asks, "Tell you what?"
"That you're a lesbian," Santana's chest heaves visibly at the comment, "or at the very least bi-curious-"
"Don't say that… that word! My dad is inside!" Once again, she invades Rachel's personal space. She goes so close that their exhales intertwine. "And I'm not, okay."
"Santana, you really should talk about this. You could talk to my father's about your feelings—"
"Feelings? Rachel, you have no idea what I am feeling right now." Rachel can see Santana's eyes turning red. "And I don't need to talk to your father's about anything."
"It's completely fine if you're gay Santana. It's obvious that it was not the first time you and Brittany have engaged in that sort of…activity." Santana falters and steps back from Rachel's statement, running her hands through her hair. "I can assure you that talking to someone about this will be much better. I'm not sure if McKinley has a GSA, but we can always start a 'Gay-Les-Ball'. That's what I call a 'Gay-Lesbian-Alliance'. I bet we could even get Brittany to join—"
"Stop, just stop okay! I'm not going to join some, some stupid Gay-Lezzy-"
"Gay-Les-Ball," Rachel interrupts.
"Whatever the hell you call it. I'm not gay. Not everyone is gay, you know."
"Santana, calm down, it's going to be fine," She reaches out and grabs Santana's shoulders. "I know that your parents would not have any issues with their daughter being a lesbian so if you just—"
"Get out."
"W-what?" Rachel's arms fall to her side as she tilts her head to the side.
"You heard me. Get. Out."
Rachel looks around before nodding hesitantly. "Al-alright." She leaves Santana behind in the yard as she heads through the Lopez home. She barely manages out a smile when Mr. Lopez tells her 'Goodbye'.
When she finally reaches home, she waits by the phone for Santana to call. She waits for an explanation for why Santana had kicked her out, she waits for an apology of some sorts, she waits for…for something.
Her something comes in the form of a Blueberry Slushie. The crowd of bystander's, including Quinn Fabray, bursts into laughter, as Santana empties the contents of the cup on Rachel's head. Santana, however, isn't laughing. She walks up to Rachel and whispers in her ear, "You tell no one" before stepping back and heaving the cup at Rachel's chest.
She steps back to stand beside Quinn and puts her hands on her hips. "Welcome to High School, Berry." The pair walk off in unison, leaving Rachel soaked through to her loafers.
The title of this story is inspired by Maika Maile's song of the same title, "Roam When You Shouldn't".
