Being a powerful and super-cute 4th grader, I would never have thought that some random blonde chick would strip all that away. And I'm not saying that's a bad thing, but that just fricken scares me how she has the power to do that. I was used to getting my way and using my looks to my advantage. I was used to that. I knew who I was. I be this born and raised Lima-Heights diva who no one, I mean no one, messes with. But what the hell, this blonde just makes me question who I am. And I had no idea what in the fricken hell I was gonna do about this.
She was my best friend and it seemed like "this" would work. It felt right. It felt good. But there was something in the back of my mind that made me not take a step further; something that scared the hell out of me.
And you know, it's weird. Me and her, we have barely anything in common. She likes ducks and I like, well—I'm not very fond of animals. She is a complete ditz in the most cutest possible way and I'm this total impatient bitch. Yeah, I have no idea why we're friends in the first place, but hey we are.
But. I guess the thing we have in common is what scares me the most. What scares me is how when we're going to the lockers room, she follows me in. And how when we both shop, we shop in the same clothing section. And how everything underneath our clothes—it's the same.
It's this commonality of our pronouns that scare me the most. If we are even allowed to have this epic sort of love. If this is even right. But it feels right. So why in the hell should I give a fuck about what other people think. But, shit. I do care. And I hate myself for that.
I just wish that I could be her knight in shining armor, but as it turns out…I'm the one stuck in the tower. And I'm waiting for no one to save me. I can only save myself. And you know what, Brittany is the one knocking at the door, telling me to fricken open it. But shit, I don't what to stand up. At least, not any time soon.
I'm just a fricken wuss when it comes to this type of stuff. And I don't know what the hell I'm gonna do.
"What color is an orange?" Is the first thing she says to me.
We are standing outside the classroom, waiting for the teacher, Ms. Lily, to let us in the class. The girl is holding a round medium sized orange in her hand, and she's looking at me in deep seriousness. I give her a few minutes to realize whom she was talking to. I was Santana-fricken-Lopez. I just don't let strangers talk to me. They have to earn my approval before anyone can speak a word to me. But I realize she was the new girl in the class, so I ended her few minutes short.
I roll my eyes. "It's the color, orange." I could feel the expletives on my tongue, but I held it back.
"Oh that makes sense. Thank you um—"
"Santana."
She smiles. "Thank you Santana!" She, then runs off unexpectedly and I lose interest in the new girl. I didn't know her name, and I didn't want to. I wanted that to be our last encounter, ever. I shrug off the new girl's randomness and impatience fills in. Where in the hell is the teacher? Her absence is making me have unwanted social situations. Goddamn, where is she?
And when I thought, I saw Ms. Lily come towards the door; the new girl jumps right back in front of me, holding something in her hand.
"So," she says, "Would this be called a red?"
She was obviously holding an apple in her hand and I was gonna tell her to get the hell out of my face but the teacher passed by me (finally.) to shut my dirty mouth.
The new girl, then whispers to me, "You can tell me later, San." And then she skips inside the classroom with the most ridiculous smile on her face, thinking that I was her friend.
Goddamn, who does this girl think she is?
I didn't feel obligated to go back and actually tell her it was a damn apple, so for the rest of the day I avoided the hell out of her. When I saw her pass by me, I jumped to the closest person next to me and pretended to talk to them. And by talk I mean beat up. And by beat up I really mean giving them major emotional issues.
By the end of the school day, I thought I successfully avoided the new girl, but while getting my backpack to go home, I felt two fingers tap my shoulder. I turn around—nobody's there. I annoyingly ignore it and grab my backpack, already sprinting out of the classroom. I wanted to get out of the classroom before anybody else could fricken bother me.
And since somebody of a higher power loves to torture me, I see the new girl chasing after me, smiling. What the hell…this girl thinks we're playing a game or something. Well. I'll give her a game. I smirk and run lightning speed, taking shortcuts and cutting corners so that I could lose this fricken girl. I finally arrive at my house—out of breath, out of mind. And I felt faint and dizzy. Damn. I ran too fast. At least I lost that little blondie. Butlike my running, I thought too fast and I see that little girl running towards me.
"—San." She's out of breath. "Shit. You run fast."
I had no more patience for this girl.
"Why the hell are you following me?" I scream at her.
"Well, I thought we were playing a game, like, tag or something," she tells me.
"Well. We weren't blondie. So get the hell out of here before I tell my parents and get you arrested or something."
"You're so serious, Santana," she teases.
I roll my eyes and ignore her, going towards my front door.
"Wait, San! Don't go yet!"
I don't know why, but I stopped and turned around. Even though my head was filled with disgust, my body forced me to follow the blonde's girls' command.
"What, new girl? What?"
She whispers, now, finally getting the message. "You never answered my question about the red thing."
"Well. You never stopped bothering me, so I'm not gonna talk to you anymore, blondie."
"Why do you keep calling me blondie, Santana?"
"Because! You just fricken…ugh! Get away from me!"
I seriously fight my body's wants and go straight to my front door, but before I slam it, I could hear her whisper with her head down.
"Well…I think it's cute how you call me blondie."
After a week, I fergot all about the new girl and loved my normal life of pulling Berry's hair and emotionally scaring Finn Hudson. The only equal I considered was Noah Puckerman. Puck assisted me in my schemes and talked my language of insults and profanity. We always had a friendly competition of who could crush people's souls from the inside out. Just yesterday, Puck "accidentally" smeared red marker on Hummel's new jacket. He cried for the rest of the day. It was pretty hilarious.
We were in the classroom when I saw Puckerman walk towards me.
"Hey, Lopez!"
"What, Puckerman?"
"I found this wicked spider in the playground. Let's go put it in the new girl's backpack!" I smiled at the plan.
"Yeah, let's do it."
I told Puckerman that I would distract Brittany while he shoves the spider down her little duck-decorated backpack of hers. It was a brilliant plan. I reminded myself to high-five Puck later, to commend his genius plan.
I see the new girl sitting across the room, reading to herself. I walk towards her and sit criss-cross applesauce in front of her trying to divert her attention from her backpack.
"Hey, Blondie."
"Hey Santana." I try to think up a conversation as I see Puck run out of the classroom to grab that little creature.
"Whatcha readin'?"
"I thought you were mad at me," she says, completely avoiding my question.
"No, I'm not, Blondie. I was just annoyed."
"Well I thought you were. And—" She pauses to pull something out of her pocket. It's a folded piece of paper and she hands it to me. "—And I was gonna give you this later, but since you brought it up…I just wanted to say that I'm sorry." She whispers the "sorry" so softly and her head is down. I look at her and then I look at the folded piece of paper. I unfold it and it's a picture. A picture that she drew with crayons and markers. It wasn't a very good picture, but I could tell what each shape was supposed to be.
There were two stick figures, one on each side of the paper. There was a blonde haired girl who looked like was running. And she was running towards the other stick figure, which had some sort of triangle on the back of it.
"That's supposed to be me." She points obviously at the blonde figure. "And this one is you." She looks up at me. "And this is your cape, because you run super fast."
I laugh softly at the comment.
She's not done talking and I look up at her. "And you know why I kept on bothering you that day?" She pauses. "It's because I thought you were really pretty and I really wanted to be your friend."
I'm sitting there in awe, in silence, until I see in the corner of my eye, Puckerman. I see him grinning stupidly with clasped hands walking towards the new girl's backpack. I panic.
"Puckerman!" I yell back.
He glares at me, obviously angry that I blew his cover.
"What Lopez?" He has an annoyed tone.
I didn't want to torture the new girl anymore. I didn't want to hurt her after she made this picture for me. I mean, she was willing to draw me as a superhero, I think she deserves a break. I try to find an explanation to tell to Puckerman without sounding soft, but the new girl interrupted my thought process.
"What's that in your hand?" She questions.
"None of your damn business, blondie."
"It's Brittany. Santana, here—is the only one who gets to call me that."
"Oh is that so?" Puck looks at me menacingly. "Is that true, Santana? I can't call her Blondie because you got some fricken dibs on this name for her?"
I don't know what to say. I didn't want to seem like a wimp, backing out on the original plan. But I didn't know what to say.
"C'mon! Say something Lopez!"
"—um. Yeah. Just let it go Puckerman. The jokes over. Everything's ruined."
"It's because you ruined it, you fricken weak-ass!"
Puck throws the spider towards us and Brittany screams. Puck doesn't throw the spider very far since it doesn't reach us, but when I saw it land on the floor, I immediately crush it with my brand new tennis shoes.
"There, Brittany. It's over. The spider is dead." I didn't notice her clinging herself to my left arm, her head pushed against my forearm.
"Are you sure, Santana?"
"Yes, I'm sure Brittany."
"That boy wasn't very nice."
"Yeah." I swallow my words, trying not to seem guilty that I was part of that evil scheme.
"Thanks for saving me, San." She smiles and her lips are covering part of her teeth creating an unbelievably cute smile.
I could feel the heat coming up into my cheeks. "Yeah no problem, Britt."
"Hey, you didn't call me Blondie. I thought that was our little nickname between us." She pokes my arm.
"Well. We're friends now, so I think I'm entitled to say your name now."
She lets go of my arm and jumps up and down happily.
"Yay! We're friends!"
I roll my eyes, trying not to regret my sentence.
"Yeah, yeah. Friends."
"Best Friends." She smiles again at me. I could feel my cheeks burn up again as I hesitantly nod in agreement.
Shit. What have I done?