"Ugh, no. No freaking way," Santana said with a groan when Noah Puckerman appeared on the other side of her now closed locker.
"Aw, come on, Lopez. You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours. S'long as you don't make me bleed n' shit again."
"Please shuts you mouth. You know I'm busy on Wednesdays after cheer," she snapped with an eye roll before swinging her backpack and pony tail over her shoulder and stomping down the hall, groaning again when she realized Puck was still following her. "Plus you're all sweaty and McNasty from football I- crap." The brunette cheerleader stopped in her tracks and wedged a hand down the front of her Cheerios top, shaking her head in an annoyed manner when she felt the empty space between the twins that usually housed her cell.
"I forgots my phone in my gym locker. And no, before you even suggest it, it's not an invitation to get down in the showers. That was a one-time deal and ifs we're being honest? Wasn't that hot." Santana shrugged with a smirk and turned on her heel, dismissing Puck with a wave.
"Such a bitch," he called after her.
"And don't you forget it."
-
Wednesdays were always important to her. It was the day she spent with Abuela, cooking dinner together and helping out around the house then doing her homework sprawled out across the carpet of the living room while her grandmother watched her telenovelas. The tradition stemmed from Maribel working late on Wednesdays, and baby Santana used to dart out of her classroom and into Abuela's arms every Wednesday afternoon when she would pick her up from school. Santana was older now, which means she could drive herself, but she still held that childlike love and admiration for her grandmother. She was easily the most important person to her.
And now she was going to be late.
Cheerio practice had gotten out 30 minutes ago which means the locker room would be deserted by now because Coach Sylvester didn't stand for anyone sticking around much past 10 minutes. Santana was convinced she held Occult meetings in there during the evenings, so when she opened the door and walked into the damp room, it wasn't without a little bit of apprehension. She may be head cheerleader, head bitch in charge, and from the wrong side of the tracks, but Sue Sylvester was scary as hell.
Her shoes made soft noises as she walked quietly to the row of her locker, putting in the combo and grabbing the phone she had forgotten. Santana had just tucked it into its spot between her tits when a voice met her ear. Her head snapped in the direction of the sound, briefly wishing she could see through walls, or rows of lockers, and she strained to hear the quiet whispers from the other side of the room. Now would be the time to hit the road and fast before she became the sacrificial lamb for Coach's gang of butchy witches, but Santana Lopez was nothing if not curious, borderline nosy, and always, always suspicious.
She closed her locker as quietly as possible and walked down the row, her head trained to the left where the voice came from. She reached the end, turned the corner, and what she saw made her breath hitch with a quiet gasp and set her cheeks on fire.
It was the new girl on the squad and newest transfer at McKinley High, Brittany Pierce. She stood next to the bench, blonde hair darkened and dripping from her shower, a tight and painfully thin white shirt stretched across her skin, showing off pink and hardened nipples. Santana's dark eyes narrowed then widened as they travelled down past puffed parted lips, past her chest, and landed on the back of another blonde head of a girl sitting on the bench. Like Brittany's, her hair was dark and sleek and wet, but she was fully clothed unlike Brittany, who Santana realized with a twist in her stomach, wasn't wearing anything other than her t-shirt.
She didn't understand how the two girls didn't notice her, and Santana was rooted to the spot, hopelessly so. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the scene, couldn't spit out any vicious words about how getting lezzy in the locker room was so very against the rules. Instead she just watched.
The girl on the bench, who Santana still hadn't been able to identify, brought her hands up to Brittany's hips, her thumbs stroking against the bones that poked out, head tilted back in a way that Santana knew meant she was looking into the other blonde's eyes. She watched as the girl on the bench dropped her head and moved forward, pressing a kiss right under Brittany's belly button. Right above Brittany's sex that looked as pink and flushed and worked as her nipples and lips. Santana was stunned, her heart pounding in her chest as she tried to force herself to do something, anything, but she couldn't and then the mystery blonde was moving again.
A pale hand snaked into Brittany's cheerios bag and came out with a pair of cotton yellow panties. She twisted herself and held them out for Brittany, and Santana watched as Brittany's hands grasped the other girls shoulders as she stepped into them. Then they repeated the process with Brittany's red gym shorts, and dark eyes followed the fabric up long, toned legs. Perfect legs. Her eyes darted up, noticing the soft and content expression and smile her fellow Cheerio wore before blue eyes were suddenly looking back at her.
Santana felt the heat of panic and embarrassment course through her violently. Shit, she thought, sputtering for words as Brittany gazed at her.
"Santana, right?"
All she could do was nod.
"Hi! I'm Brittany!"
To say the brunette was confused was an understatement.
"I know who you are, obviously," she spat out, crossing her arms against her chest and glaring at the blonde, suddenly hating Brittany for making her feel so uncomfortable then acting like it was no big deal.
"Do you?" Brittany asked innocently, tilting her head to the side with her confusion.
It just pissed Santana off more.
"What the fuck are you doing here? You can't be here. You and your... lesbian lover needs ta bounce. Ahora!"
"Easy now," came the voice of the other blonde, low and warning with a hint of something other than fear and intimidation, which was what Santana strived to get out of everyone.
"Excuse me?" Santana asked, voicing dripping with disdain and attitude as her eyes flicked to the other blonde who was now rising off the bench and turning to face her.
If Santana was at a loss before, now she was really dumbfounded, her jaw dropping and arms twisting tighter around her body.
The mystery blonde was no longer a mystery.
Chloe Pierce, Brittany Pierce's identical twin, faced her with a cold look.
Santana gaped. Utterly shocked and confused and… Scandalized.
Chloe moved casually, handing her sister her Cheerio's jacket before zipping up her sisters bag and slinging it over her shoulder as Brittany finished getting dressed. The look she gave Santana was challenging, almost as if she was daring the brunette to say something. But Santana was completely lost for words. Chloe's hand rested possessively against the small of Brittany's back as she lead them out of the locker room, passed the frozen head cheerleader, and Santana couldn't bring herself to match the bright smile Brittany offered her as she walked by.
