Santana Lopez stood at her locker with her best friend Brittany Pierce who was at her own locker, right next to Santana's. Both girls were touching up their makeup in the mirrors that they had on the inside of their locker doors. To hell with getting the right books for the next class, as Cheerios they had to look hot. Santana and Brittany had met on the first day of daycare. Santana had been pouring sand from the sandbox down some random kid's shorts (hey, even she could admit that she'd been a bitch since birth) when out of the corner of her eye, she saw some other kid picking on a blonde girl. Something about the young blonde intrigued Santana and when the girl began crying, Santana abandoned her task at hand and walked over to see if the blonde was all right. After pushing the other kid out of the way, Santana knelt down to where the girl was sitting and introduced herself to the blonde. Since then, they'd been inseparable and the roles had yet to change. Santana was the tough one and was alway protecting Brittany from jerks. Brittany may not have been the smartest girl in the world, but she had a kind heart and she meant well when she said things that didn't quite make sense to anyone else. Over the years, Santana had become fluent in 'Brittany' speak, but she had grown tired of having to translate for other people, so she just let them guess. But if someone was stupid enough to make insult Brittany, make fun of her, or make her cry, all hell broke loose. Santana usually flipped out on the person, cussing them out in both English and Spanish before kicking their asses.
Down the hall, Quinn Fabray stood at her locker, alone. As head Cheerio, she didn't need anyone around to make her feel like she was worth something. Everyone knew who she was. She was the girl that all the guys wanted and all the girls wanted to be. She was the girl. She was on top. And she fucking loved that feeling. She loved the way it felt having stares of wanting from guys and jealousy from girls as she walked down the hall. No one was ever going to take that feeling from, especially not Santana. The girl had already had a taste of the power that the head cheerleader position had and she liked it too fucking much. Quinn wasn't going to let Santana get that much power again. However, although Quinn did love her power, she knew that she would give it up in a heartbeat for the person she'd recently been crushing on. Unfortunately, it was yet another thing she'd have to fight Santana for, as the newest thing that had put a riff in their friendship (aside from Quinn telling Coach Sylvester about Santana's boob job) was when they'd both admitted that they liked the same person. Quinn wasn't going to let Santana get as close to permanently having this one thing that Quinn wanted as she had with the head Cheerio position and power. Supposedly, Quinn, Santana, and Brittany were all best friends. However, everyone knew that Santana and Quinn would do whatever it took to be number one, even if it meant destroying the other one. And while Brittany loved Quinn, she was extremely loyal to Santana so whenever Santana and Quinn were fighting, Quinn was the odd one out because Brittany would stick with Santana, leaving Quinn alone.
It had all started when the two were hanging out at Santana's house. Brittany had had to go to a doctor's appointment, so it was just the two of them that day. Quinn could tell something was bothering the Latina, but didn't press the subject. Finally, it seemed like Santana couldn't take it anymore and just let it out.
FLASHBACK
"Q, I need to tell you something." Santana said carefully. Quinn nodded and turned toward the brunette with interest. Anything that had been bothering Santana this much and was making her this nervous was definitely worth hearing.
"What's up, S? You can tell me anything, you know that." Quinn replied. Santana nodded.
"You just... you can't flip out on me, okay?" Santana asked. Quinn nodded slowly.
"Okay... Santana, you're worrying me. What's wrong?" Quinn asked. Santana took a deep breath.
"IthinkIlikeRachel." Santana said quickly. Quinn's brow furrowed.
"Huh?" she said.
"I said I think I like Rachel." Santana said quietly. Quinn's jaw dropped open.
"Rachel Berry?" Quinn exclaimed. Santana nodded and looked down.
"For awhile now... I just-"
"Hold up. What the hell? What kind of fucking game are you trying to play, Lopez?" Quinn said.
"What the hell are you talking about, Quinn?" Santana yelled. Quinn started to speak, but held her tongue. She was not about to let Santana know that she liked Rachel as well.
"If you're going to try to make Brittany jealous, do you really think Man-Hands is going to do that?" Quinn improvised. Santana's eyes narrowed.
"This is has nothing to do with Britt and you need to shut the hell up about that. You don't fucking know anything about me and B." Santana said. Quinn could only sigh. "And what the fuck is your problem? I told you not to freak out on me!" Santana yelled. Quinn shrugged.
"I just remember, I have to go. See you later, S." Quinn said.
"Don't fucking tell anybody!" Santana yelled after her.
END FLASHBACK
Since then, Santana and Quinn hadn't said a word to each other. Santana looked over, pulling out of her flashback, and hoped to catch sight of her (secretly) favorite brunette walking down the hallway. She saw the girl standing at her locker and almost allowed a small smile to grace her lips before frowning when she saw a certain blonde bitch approaching the smaller girl.
Rachel Berry was used to standing alone in the hallway. She had gone til sophomore year without having a single friend. That all changed when she joined Glee Club. Finn Hudson was her first friend, crush, boyfriend, and love. And somehow, she had managed to throw it all away with one mistake. To say she was surprised to look over and see one Quinn Fabray approaching her with a smile and without a slushie would be a major understatement. "Hello, Quinn. How are you today?" Rachel asked, hiding her shock. Quinn smiled sweetly.
"Hi Rachel. I'm good. How are you?" Quinn replied, the smile never leaving her face.
"I'm... good. What can I help you with?" Rachel asked.
"Oh nothing... I just wanted to say hello. You know, actually now that you mention it, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to hang out together sometime? We could get dinner and see a movie - my treat, of course - or even just hang out at your house and do Glee stuff or order something in - again, my treat - and watch one of those musicals you always talk about. Just let me know." Quinn said, sending a wink and another smile Rachel's way as she walked away from the small brunette.
'Oh fuck no. That better not be what it fucking looked like or your ass is mine, Quinn Fabray.' Santana thought. Eyes narrowed, she closed her locker and walked over to Rachel, completely forgetting about Brittany. When the smaller brunette turned to grab a book from her backpack, Santana slipped in between the diva's body and her locker. When Rachel turned around, Santana spoke. "Hey." Santana said, with a smile. Gasping, Rachel jumped back in surprise, tripping over her backpack in the process. Santana reached out to catch her before she fell and pulled Rachel close to her body. "You should be careful, Berry. I don't think you don't want to get hurt." Santana said softly. Rachel removed herself from Santana's grip.
"How can I help you, Santana?" Rachel asked. Santana smiled innocently.
"I'm not allowed to say 'hi' to my teammate?" Santana asked. Rachel shrugged.
"You've never shown an interest in talking to me before." Rachel said.
"Well I am now." Santana said. Rachel sighed.
"Santana, you are currently blocking my path to be able to get to my locker. Could you please move?" Rachel requested. Santana nodded and slid over so that Rachel could have access to her locker.
"Rachel," she began sweetly. Rachel looked over with interest. It wasn't every day Santana Lopez called her by her first name. Usually it was 'RuPaul' or 'Man-Hands' or 'Treasure Trail' or some nickname about her height. Then there was the ever so clever 'Berry' that was often used by the Latina when she could come up with a good (or bad, depending on which end of the conversation you were on) nickname.
"Yes, Santana?" Rachel asked in a kinder tone than she had previously used.
"What were you talking about with Quinn?" Santana asked, trying not to sound too interested. Rachel raised an eyebrow.
"Santana, I can assure you that my conversation with Quinn was not about you and it does not concern you in anyway." Rachel said, her tone a bit more harsh than she'd intended. She felt a little bad when Santana winced at the tone.
"Sorry. I was just wondering..." Santana mumbled dejectedly. Rachel hesitated before answering the girl's earlier question.
"Quinn was asking me if I would be interested in hanging out with her outside of school sometime." Rachel said. Santana's eyes narrowed for a second. "Do you have a problem, Santana?" Rachel asked. Santana shook her head.
"I have to go. I'll see you around, Rachel." Santana said, sending a charming smile Rachel's way before turning around to walk away.
Across the hall, Quinn watched the exchange with fire in her eyes. She had turned around to catch one more glimpse of Rachel and saw Santana pull Rachel close to her body after the girl almost fell. 'That fucking bitch.' Quinn thought. Santana turned around to see Quinn watching her and stormed down the hallway. Quinn was not surprised when she was pushed into an empty classroom by the angry Latina.
"What the fuck are you doing, Fabray?" Santana asked. Quinn smiled innocently.
"What do you mean?" Quinn asked. Santana rolled her eyes.
"Don't fucking play with me, Q. You know I like Rachel. I told you that. Why are you hitting on her?" Santana asked.
"Because I like her too." Quinn said.
"Since when?"
"Since before you told me. I'm not letting you get this one, Santana." Quinn said. Santana's eyes narrowed.
"You better be ready to fight for her, Tubbers." Santana said.
"Bring it Satan." Quinn said. Santana rolled her eyes.
"Real clever." Santana said sarcastically. Quinn rolled her eyes and walked past the furious Latina to exit the room. Both girls were thinking the exact same thing.
Game on, bitch. Game. Fucking. On.