Santana sat cross-legged in the back of her dad's black BMW and watched the coastline pass by, taking in all that would be her new home. The beach was nothing like her own private turf in Cape Hatteras, North Carolina. Santana had heard of California's competitive surf community, and was incredibly afraid of having to make a whole new name for herself in Laguna. In North Carolina all the competition she has was friendly, no one really bothered Santana much.
Then again, Santana didn't really bother with people much at all. Her father's job caused her to constantly be moving from coast to coast. Since having to leave groups of friends behind since she was a child, Santana quickly learned to never get attached. She avoided contact with just about anyone and every, save for her one friend; Noah Puckerman. She had met him at the age of 14, and now 3 years and 3 cities later she still can't shake him off. The two easily found comfort in one another, despite both claiming their own "badass loner" personas.
"I promise you, Mija, this time we're staying long. At least until you graduate." Emilio Lopez said from the drivers' seat. He often made these open ended promises, but they had always fallen through.
"Sure Papi."
"C'mon Santanita, it's not that bad. Laguna is a nice place, and you can surf everyday. The house is right on the shore, and I'm sure there are plenty of people your age in the area," Santana's mother encouraged.
She chose to ignore her parents, and instead focused in on the surfers she could see in the distance; they were good. Their style looked slightly different from her own, but she was sure it wasn't anything she couldn't handle.
"Here we are! Just like the pictures. Isn't it pretty, Santana?" Santana looked ahead at the overly flashy modern house that she'd now be calling home. Her family had money, and they weren't afraid to flaunt it. Nice cars, nice houses, nice clothes. She wasn't complaining though, it meant she got the best equipment she needed to surf, and that's all that counted to her.
Santana used to get excited when moving into new homes, she'd run around and look into every room trying to find all the secrets of the house. Mental notes were always made of which steps creaked, and which doors not to open too late at night. But now, it had lost its effect. She mumbled back a half-hearted, "Yeah, sure," to her mom before removing her customized red, black, and white surftec board from the top of the car.
She couldn't deny that the house and neighborhood were beautiful, and the location was perfect. She could literally walk past their pool, and end up straight in the sand. It was breath taking and the view was miraculous, but she didn't want to give her parents the satisfaction of knowing that she was pleased with her new home. To be honest, all she cared about was getting straight into the water, and she had it planned so exactly that could be done.
Santana entered the house, and made her way up to where she knew her room already was. Her mother had the house pre-decorated to avoid further work once they arrived. God forbid Maribel Lopez have to take any time away from her social 'career'. To Santana, all her mom was is a show wife. She went to events with her father, joined clubs, and charities; but she couldn't even pay attention to her own daughter.
She pulled out her favorite black bikini, and red surf top, and threw them on quickly. Santana tossed a quick goodbye over her shoulder to her mom, who was already busy researching what clubs she could join in the area, before taking out the back door and heading to her new real home- the Pacific Ocean. There was something so intriguingly familiar about the ocean to her; it felt like home. The way the salt water lapped at her skin, or how the waves could so easily pull her into them, it was like one gigantic embrace, and nothing felt better to her.
Brittany Pierce sat on her favorite rock that over looked the water near her home. Her board was resting on side of her, but she was almost oblivious to its' existence. She was busy watching someone surfing- all too close to herspot. She couldn't lie, the girl was good, but this was her spot. Not to mention, this girl looked nothing like the rest of the locals. Who the fuck does this girl think she is coming in and taking her place? She had surfed there since she was 10 years old, and now this new girl thought she could take over? Just then, the girl pulled a pretty impressive backside roundhouse, then rode the way into the shore.
Much to Brittany's pleasure she started to leave, but there wasn't a car around, and she didn't seem to be going far. Brittany didn't think it could get any worse, but then the girl walked straight up to the previously vacant house next door, and walked in. No, just no. Not only did she think she could just come here and take Brittany's spot, but now she had to live next to her? Her mind began wondering off to other things, and then she caught herself when she heard a big wave crash to the shore. She brought her hand up to shade her eyes and looked to this distance. She saw that come good waves were coming, so she picked up her board, and began to strap herself to the board.
Just as the girl was beginning to ease herself into the water, Santana saw her. There in all of her pale-skinned glory was the Latina's greatest weakness, a blonde surfer.