First fanfic.. Reviews and constructive criticism are very much welcome
Rachel was in the main hall of McKinley at 7:30 in the morning. The hall was nearly deserted due to the early hour, but as she told her fathers before she left for the day: "It never hurts to be punctual!"
"Thirsty, Manhands?" With that, Rachel was splashed with a giant blue slushy. She was standing in front of her locker on the first day of school. She had been distracted, in her attempts to work out her new locker combination, and hadn't seen the hulking figures of the football players approaching.
"Seriously?" The diva asked. But the four jocks ignored her yell and walked away, laughter shaking their broad, letterman jacket wearing backs. "I can't believe it's already starting."
Rachel leaned in toward her locker, laying her forehead against the cool metal. She closed her eyes, counted to ten, took a deep breath, and then proceeded to stand tall. She just needed to get to a bathroom. She could salvage her first day if she could find a bathroom before any other jock or cheerio saw her and attacked while she was vulnerable.
The diva picked up her backpack, praying that she had put an extra shirt in it. After securing the straps on her shoulders, she walked briskly in the direction of a bathroom nearby. She rounded a corner with her eyes on the ground, hoping to hide the fact that she had gotten a slushy facial. As she turned she felt a warm body running into her own.
"Oh I apologize profusely. I was not watching where I was going. You see, it hasn't been the most ideal morning so far and…"
"You got blue shit on my shirt," was said in disgust. In front of her stood the three intimidating cheerios who ruled the school.
"Santana?" Rachel looked up for the first time, surprised. "I can honestly say you are probably the worst person for me to run into at this specific time in my life. I am in search of a bathroom and I don't want any more misfortune to befall me, so I'll be on my way now," Rachel rambled. "And I do apologize for spreading my problems on to you and your shirt."
"Can it, Berry. You're ridiculous, but I doubt you'd slushy yourself. Or... did you?" Rachel huffed at this, causing the Latina to laugh.
"I most certainly did not."
"Oh, this is too great," came from Santana's right. Quinn Fabray stood in the middle of the trio with a huge smirk on her face. "You're blue, RuPaul." On Quinn's right stood the other blond cheerleader, Brittany, who stared blankly past Rachel. Santana had begun observing the damage done to her own shirt.
"Oh, hello Quinn." Rachel's facial expression was now one of uncertainty with a little bit of fear and sadness mixed into it. The mirth in Quinn's tone at Rachel's blue appearance was not at all surprising to the diva, but she couldn't help but be hurt by it. The diva tried not to let it bring her mood down any more though. "I hope you have had a great morning and an enjoyable summer Quinn. And you too as well Brittany, Santana."
"Please just shut up, Smurf," was Quinn's reply.
"You do talk a lot Rachel," Brittany said.
Rachel's eyes fell to the ground. Even Brittany was putting her down. People must really hate her if the nicest girl in school couldn't find a decent thing to say to her. Brittany always found something good in someone.
"The school day hasn't even started and you're already a mess. I can't believe Finn ever thought you were a better option than me."
"Me and Finn aren't even..." Rachel's eyes began to water. "Good day Quinn," she let out, before releasing a strangled sobbing noise. Quinn bringing up Finn was too much to deal with on top of the terrible morning the diva had already experienced.
"Aww Quinn, you made her cry." Brittany said. The blonde changed directions to follow Rachel into the bathroom.
"Jesus, Preggers. Do you have to start in so early? Brit, wait."
Santana pushed the bathroom door open to find Rachel bent over a sink and Brittany holding her hair away from her face. Santana looked under the stall doors to make sure no one else was in the room.
"I didn't mean to hurt your feelings Rachel. I don't mind that you talk so much. I just can't always understand what you're talking about. I should introduce you to my cat, Lord Tubbington, some time. He's a great listener."
The Latina cheerleader laughed at this from the doorway, drawing attention to her for the first time. Brittany greeted her with a giant smile, while Rachel's face held a neutral expression. Santana frowned at the redness in the diva's eyes, but quickly looked away.
"Can you just see if I have a spare top in my bag?" Rachel asked Brittany, through her sniffling.
"Sure Rachel." Brittany patted the diva's back a couple times before leaning over to check her bag. "There's nothing in here."
"Of course there isn't." Rachel said. Her voice was taking on a slightly hysterical tone.
"Don't worry. I think I have one in my gym locker." Brittany said quickly, before the diva had a chance to start crying again. "I'll be back in a second," she said softly. "Santana, go help her wash that gunk off her face."
"What? No." Santana had a panicked look on her face. Brittany grabbed her arm and forced her towards Rachel before she left.
Santana held onto the diva's hair, but made no move to do anything more. Rachel made eye contact with the cheerleader in the mirror. Instead of seeing disgust or anger in the Latina's eyes like she expected, Rachel was surprised to see nervousness. "You can leave if you want," the diva said softly. "I'm fine now."
This triggered something in the cheerleader's brain and the nervousness was replaced with her usual attitude. "Listen Berry, I'm doing this for Brittany. She told me to help you get cleaned up, so I'm that's what I'm gonna do. Got it?"
Santana started to brush the diva's long hair out of her face. She felt a shiver run through the body below her, but blamed it on the cold water that the diva was using on her slushied face.
Soon Rachel began to feel fingers running up and down her back as she bent over the sink. Her face was devoid of any slushy, but she wasn't ready to stand up and lose the comforting touch. She knew it was foolish to dwell on the pleasant feeling left by the cheerleader's fingers. Santana would leave as soon as Brittany reappeared.
Rachel looked up into the mirror to see the Latina with a peaceful expression on her face. She didn't seem to realize she was now softly stroking the diva's back. When Santana noticed wide brown eyes boring into her, she immediately stopped her actions.
"Stay here. I'll get you some towels."
"Why are you being so nice to me?"
"Why must you question everything Berry?" Santana questioned back in frustration. "And where's Brittany?" Rachel opened her mouth to reply, but one look from the fiery Latina stopped her. "Just come here, Rachel."
The diva smiled softly at the use of her real name while Santana began to gently pat her face dry. "Why are you smiling?" the Latina demanded.
"You called me Rachel." Rachel blushed, looking anywhere but into the Latina's chocolate eyes.
"Don't get used to it. Berry." But the Latina had a small smile on her face. "You know, you should get slushied more often. It really humanizes you."
Rachel pulled away from the paper towels. "Thank you Santana, I'm quite dry now. You can leave. If you see Brittany, I would appreciate if you reminded her that I am still awaiting her presence."
"Oh come on, Berry. I was joking." Rachel just huffed and walked to the other side of the bathroom. "Listen, I wouldn't still be here if I enjoyed you getting bullied. I'd be making a quick run to the gas station before school starts to buy a red slushy."
"Very amusing," the diva stated dryly, before turning away from the Latina.
Santana walked behind Rachel and grabbed her wrist, pulling the diva around to face her. Rachel lost her balance and stumbled into her. The Latina took advantage of the slightly out of breath diva, still in her arms. "I was only joking, Rachel." She emphasized the diva's name. "I'm just saying that you're easier to approach when you have blue shit on you. You're normally just so perfect all the time. It's annoying."
Santana looked down at the small girl in her arms. She had never noticed how long her eyelashes were. Or how expressive her big, brown eyes were. She reached down and pushed the diva's bangs behind her ears. Rachel broke out into a huge grin. "What?" The Latina questioned, warily.
"You think I'm perfect?"
"You're impossible." She pulled away from the diva, but was laughing. "Of course that's all you got out of what I said."
"Your words, not mine," the diva said innocently. "How do you think I feel with you cheerleaders and your uniforms? It's like a perfectly manicured army."
"Yeah, the cheerleaders. Not me. If I wore regular clothes, I'd be just like everyone else. You're just so... you. No matter what anyone does, you don't question yourself. Why do you think people slushy you, Rachel?"
"Because I'm annoying and unbearable?"
"No. Well maybe a little." The diva's eyes shot to her, insecurity widening them even more than usual. Santana stepped forward and grabbed the diva's wrist. "Of course I'm joking. Haven't you been listening to me at all? It's because no matter what people do, you still continue to believe in yourself and your dreams. They're jealous. You're gonna be great someday, Rachel." The Latina moved her hand so her palm was resting against the diva's cheek, who unconsciously leaned her face into the warm hand. "And we'll all be stuck in Lima telling our kids about how we knew Rachel Berry before she got so famous." A slight bitterness laced the last sentence and the Latina made to pull her hand away.
Rachel felt Santana pulling away and grabbed the Latina's wrist before she could take a step away. "How can you even think that?" Rachel asked softly.
"I don't think it, I know it. You're so talented Rachel."
"No," Rachel interrupted, "You said 'we'll be stuck here.' I don't believe for one second, Santana Lopez, that you will ever be stuck anywhere you don't want to be."
"Yeah," Santana took a step closer to the diva, staring deep into her eye pools, "why's that?" Rachel was losing her ability to think clearly due to the close proximity of the cheerleader.
"To quote a great mind, 'you're just so... you.'" The Latina chuckled lightly. She was close enough for her breath to hit the lips that Rachel was absentmindedly licking. Brown eyes stared into brown eyes, each girl trying to discover what the other was feeling.
"Hey, Rachel I'm back." Santana pulled away from the diva before Brittany had gotten through the diva's name, her eyes wide in panic. If Brittany noticed anything out of the ordinary, she didn't comment on it. "I am so sorry. I completely forgot about your shirt. I ran into Artie and he gave me a ride on his chair. It was so much fun." Santana winced at the blonde's words and went to look at herself in the mirror, pretending to fix her ponytail.
"It is quite all right Brittany. I appreciate your concern though. Is that the shirt?"
"Oh yeah. Here you go."
"Hey, Britts, that's my shirt." Santana was observing them in the mirror. Rachel held said shirt up and sure enough 'Lopez' was printed on the back above a McKinley logo. "Yeah, that's my practice shirt," she stated, snatching it from Rachel. "You can't wear it. It has my name on it."
"But San, you left it at my house, so I brought it for me. It's the only one I have here." Brittany was pouting at Santana in a way she knew always worked. But Santana was upset after having to hear about Artie and was dead set on saying no to the blonde. That was until she looked at Rachel. Rachel with her big brown eyes, now clearly expressing rejection and disappointment.
"It's fine Santana. I can see why one would be wary of me wearing any apparel with their name on it. Clearly I'm not good for a person's reputation around here," said Rachel. "And really, the stain on my shirt isn't so bad."
"Don't be stupid Rachel. That shirt was bad enough to begin with. And everyone will know what the stain is from." Santana looked to be battling with her self for a moment. "Here." She shoved the white tee into Rachel's arms. "Just don't embarrass me too much in it, ok?" But the Latina didn't wait for a reply. "I gotta go. I have to get to... I just need to go." Then the Latina walked to the bathroom to the door, pausing for one second to look back at Rachel before she was gone.
"What was that all about?" asked Brittany.
"I don't know," but Rachel had a slight smile on her face.
"Maybe Santana forgot to feed the fish in her locker."
"She has a fish in her locker?"
"Doesn't everyone?"
Rachel opened and closed her mouth a few times, trying to decide on how to answer. Finally she just settled for, "Thank you for your assistance Brittany. I need to change now," and walked into the nearest stall.