Chapter 1: Cherry Pink (And Apple Blossom White)

"Nunca olvide sus raíces, Santana." Her father always said to her.

Her parents, Ricardo and Maribel Lopez, had come to this country for opportunity. Her father owned his own auto repair that was once an abandoned and dilapidated building just on the outskirts of town. He had completely renovated and rebuilt the shop from the ground up by himself. Her father had an extremely strong work ethic and it was his main philosophy that hard work is what yields the superior result.A perfect explanation for his success as the sole mechanic in Lima.

Her mother worked as a nurse at the local hospital but got most of her joy from being a homemaker. Maribel Lopez was always ready to volunteer for any and all community events, especially if she was required to prepare food. There was nothing more that woman loved more than cooking. Something that Santana herself had absolutely no complaints about.

Although both her parents were relatively successful, they had both worked extremely hard to get to where they were today and had to face much adversity. Which was why for them, remembering where they came from and making sure their heritage was celebrated was extremely important, something that they made sure to instill in Santana.

It's something she was unlikely to forget with parents like hers. Parents who were currently dancing around their small kitchen like crazy romantic fools to the sounds of big band mambo music crackling from the record player as she helped dice up the vegetables for breakfast.

"You two never quit it, do you?" Santana asked, scooping a handful of chopped tomatoes into a bowl.

Ricardo spun Maribel in a graceful twirl moving them both closer to where Santana was preparing food on the counter top. He twirled Marisol again outwards while reaching his other hand into the bowl to pluck a tomato out, laughing when Santana swatted his hand away and scowled at him.

"One day, Santanita, you will have a husband of your own. Maybe you'll like him more than you like scowling," He teased, and laughed when Santana did just that. He pulled Maribel back onto his arms and wrapped both his arms behind her in a light embrace. "And then you will want to dance with each other at every moment because every time the two of you dance, you fall in love all over again." Ricardo spoke while staring into his wife's eyes, the pair of them retreating back into their own bubble of love.

Santana couldn't help it, she scoffed. She was not interested in falling into the patterns of so many around her. Women whose only concerns bordered on the desperation to marry and become housewives.

Santana wanted more than that for herself.

Which is why she focused all of her attentions to her studies. Getting accepted into university was no small feat for her. Being Hispanic as well as a woman meant she had to work twice as hard as everyone else, and she did. Santana worked hard because that's how her parent's raised her. If she wanted to eventually become a doctor one day, she knew that she would have to work harder than anyone to get there because the odds were already stacked against her.

Her mother of course worried that she was well on her way to becoming some sort of spinster. Santana's lack of suitors always had Marisol warning her that she'll "never find a husband with that attitude".

The truth was, all the boys in Lima were boring. It wasn't that she didn't have suitors that wanted to date her; In point of fact most of the time she was being bombarded by boys in town asking her out. She just wasn't interested. The only boy who couldn't seem to ever take a hint was Noah Puckerman, who had been asking her out on an almost weekly basis to no avail since they attended high school together.

Of course Noah was exactly the type of boy her father approved of: All-American athlete, handsome, charismatic, and the fact that he had served two years in the military practically had Ricardo asking for Noah's hand in marriage himself. Truth be told, Santana had absolutely no interest in anything Noah Puckerman had to offer. Everytime the boy came up to her, he nearly bored her to tears spending all of conversation talking about himself and his exploits. No, he certainly wasn't the man for her.

Santana honestly wasn't sure if she would ever find the right man for her. She was unsure she would ever have the type of romance that was written about in stories. The type of love her own parents had. A love that seemed almost effortless.

The chances of finding someone like that in Lima were slim.

Lima was boring. It was as simple as that. Nothing exciting ever happened in the small picturesque suburban town. Week after week it was always the same thing: People fawning over Mrs. Farley's rose bushes, Mr. Sawyer and Mr. Andrews comparing whose lawn was the best looking on the block, or all the houswives trading recipes for ambrosia salad and deviled eggs during weekly neighborhood block parties. It was all so dull and uninteresting. Just once, Santana wished something exciting would finally happen in Lima.

"Santana!" Maribel called out her, snapping Santana out of her thoughts.

"Sorry, Mami. What?"

"I said you better get moving before you're late for class. "

Santana looked up at the wall clock on the kitchen wall indicating that it was almost time for her leave.

Santana pinned her long, dark locks up in a high ponytail, securing it in place and tying it with a scarf. She slipped on her shoes, grabbed her books of the table and shouted a quick goodbye to her parents before heading out the door.

She walked around to the side of the house to load her books in the basket of her Schwinn ten-speed bicycle and began her ride to university.

She didn't make it very far before something caught her attention.

Santana's bike came to a halt in front of the Schueller house across the street.

In a town where every house on every block was build with the same set of blueprints, the old Schuller house certainly stuck out like a sore thumb.

It had been for sale for a few months after old Mrs. Schueller had passed away. Being a widow and having no apparent relatives the house had been left unmaintained.

For a community that was all about block parties, bake sales, and church group meetings every week, the sight of the Schueller house had been a eyesore that plagued the idyllic community.

The house that Santana had stopped in front of looked nothing like the old Schueller house she had become used to seeing on her daily ride to university.

The adage "Be Careful What You wish For" never seemed more appropriate than it did right then.

The "For Sale" sign had been removed and the lawn that had once been unkempt was now neatly mowed. That wasn't the most startling thing about the house. For parked on the driveway was a sleek Triumph motorcycle that stood next to a pristine black Mercury coupe. Which could only mean one thing:

A greaser had moved to Lima, Ohio.

Santana arrived home later that day to find her mother at work in the kitchen, stirring custard in a large glass mixing bowl.

"How was school today, mija?" Maribel asked, as her daughter set her books down at the table and took a seat watching her prepare dinner.

"It was good. I have a big lab assignment tomorrow but otherwise it was perfectly fine."

"I'm glad to hear it," Maribel replied, walking over to Santana with the bowl tucked into her side while she continued to stir. "Here," She said, placing the bowl in front of Santana. "Take over for me."

"Hey, have you heard anything about who moved into the old Schueller house?" Santana asked.

"Oh wouldn't you believe it! Apparently Mrs. Schueller had some family after all. Rumor has it her grandson was given the house in her will...or maybe it was her nephew, I'm not sure."

"And you know this, because?"

"Mrs. Lawrence from next door said she spotted him working on his car this afternoon. In fact, I think he might still be out there tinkering with it. Your father wouldn't stop talking about it when he got home."

"You wouldn't be talking about that Mercury in the driveway of th Schueller house would you?" Ricardo asked, walking in the room stopping to place a kiss on his wife's cheek. "A car like that takes a lot of work. She's a real beauty."

Maribel hit him on the shoulder with a dishrag. "You and your cars. Sometimes I think you love them more than me."

Ricardo curled his arm around her waist and pulled her close, planting a chaste kiss on her lips. "Never."

"Mami...Papi...please." Santana said, exasperated with her parents constant lovey-dovey displays of affection.

"Oh hush, mija. One day when you find yourself a love of your own you won't find it so disgusting."

"I will always find it disgusting, because you are my parents." She stressed, while purposely ignoring her mother's comment about her love life, or lack thereof. "You know Mami, you really need to stop listening to Mrs. Lawrence's gossip. She spends all of her spare time staring out her living room window with a pair of binoculars. That woman needs a hobby." Santana said, getting up to being the mixing bowl back over to her mother.

"Joan's harmless." Maribel assured her, pouring the custard mixture into a baking dish.

"She may be harmless, but that doesn't mean anything she says is true." Santana argued. "I mean she's never even spoken to this guy, how would she know if he was Mrs. Schueller's grandson or her nephew?"

"You're absolutely right, Santana." Maribel replied thoughtfully.

"I am?"

"Oh yes. In fact, I don't believe anyone has been over there to welcome that young man to the neighborhood properly."

"Oh no."

"Because you are so thoughtful about our new neighbors well-being, you can bring him this flan when its done baking and welcome him yourself." Maribel placed the flan in the oven and set the timer, turning around to smirk at Santana who knew there was no way she was getting out of this.

"This is why I need to stop opening my mouth." She muttered under her breath.

Santana walked up to the driveway of the Schueller house. Balancing her mother's homemade flan carefully in her hands she couldn't help feeling like an absolute idiot. She normally wasn't the type for cordial greetings and pleasantries. She left that duty to her mother who got the utmost enjoyment out of gossiping and fawning all over the neighbors.

Using one hand, she carefully smoothed her skirt down and tugged on the bottom of her red cardigan straightening out her clothes before taking a deep breath and continuing up the driveway.

Getting closer to the large black Mercury she noticed a slim pair of legs encased in a dark pair of jeans that were cuffed over a pair of clunky motorcycle boots sticking out from under the car.

Santana stood awkwardly beside the vehicle, still holding the homemade dessert carefully in her hands. She loudly cleared her throat to draw attention to herself since the man underneath the car did not seem to notice her presence in the slightest.

She heard the clattering of a wrench being placed on the ground as the body beneath the vehicle stilled and slowly rolled out from underneath.

From her vantage point, Santana could see toned arms grasp the rounded chrome bumper as they slowly pulled themselves forward. All Santana saw was a slim torso covered in a tight white t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up until the breath was ripped straight from her lungs when the stranger's face was finally revealed.

It seems as if her mother and that gossiping Mrs. Lawrence had gotten their facts completely wrong.

Expressive cat-like eyes raked over her body taking in Santana's nervous posture as she stood there holding a platter while staring at her like a deer in headlights.

Her long blonde hair was swept up into a pompadour on the top of her head that flowed back into a neat French braid that draped over her right shoulder. There were small grease smudges over her forehead and her nose and cheeks were lightly dusted with freckles. Santana had never seen anyone, let alone another girl, that looked like this in her entire life.

The other girls mouth curled up into a smirk and Santana shook herself out of her stupor as their eyes finally locked.

Santana nearly dropped the flan all over the concrete driveway in shock when the girl finally addressed her.

"Hi there," The blonde drawled, revealing a dazzling smile and sparkling blue eyes. "What can I do for you, sugar?"