Author's note: This is my first story, if that wasn't obvious. There will be later chapters whether you like it or not. I'm hoping for the former. If you've got any comments, I would not mind if you clicked that Review button. Don't be shy. Also, I don't own Glee or any of it's characters, which is painfully obvious to me and should also be obvious to you.
"Look, could you just leave us alone? Why do you have to be so mean to me? She's your best friend. Try being happy for her instead of being a snarky bitch," Artie had parked his wheelchair in the doorway, effectively blocking Santana's path.
"No," Santana snarled, "You don't understand, okay. You'll pretty much never understand, so get out of my way before I end you." Artie rolled to the side, allowing her enough room to squeeze past. Santana was a few steps out the door. "I don't understand how the two of you ever became friends," Artie called after her.
Santana kept walking down the hall. "It's a long story," she muttered to herself.
8th grade
Santana was sitting at lunch with her friends. Well, more like the only people she could stand. Her best friend had moved to Texas during the summer, and Santana had never felt lonelier. There was no one at this school who understood her. Quinn was okay, but she was far too bossy for the Latina's taste. However, Quinn had dubbed them best friends at the start of the year, and Santana didn't protest. She really couldn't have cared less. They never really hung out anyways. It was just a title, and her popularity was automatically boosted.
Quinn's incessant chattering about cheerleading, popularity, and Rachel Berry was like white noise as Santana munched on a granola bar where they sat at the lunch table. Puck was seated to her left, Quinn on her right, and Azimo and his "bro's" sat across from them. Santana kept asking herself why she bothered to sit with these people, but then she remembered the caste system and how it was best not to be surrounded by losers, but that still didn't explain Azimo's presence. Quinn was chatting about something, cheerleading maybe, when a shadow passed over the Latina. A small voice broke through Quinn's chatter, "Hey, Noah, right? Umm… can I sit here?"
"Hey, yeah, that's cool with you right San?" Puck asked. Santana waved her hand dismissively. She was staring at the back wall wondering how long the food stains had been there. She couldn't remember a time when they weren't. Puck scooted away from Santana to allow the girl to sit in between them. "By the way, it's Puck." The girl ducked. She raised her head slightly, looking around. "Is it gone? Did it hit me?" Santana turned to look at the girl. She was blonde, pretty blue eyes, looked kind of scared, and was possibly an idiot. Puck just looked confused.
"Puck-" Santana started and the girl ducked again. Santana understood what was happening and decided to have some fun, "Puck. Puck. Puck. Puck. Puck. Puck. Puck. Puck. Puck. Puck. Puck. " The girl was practically cowering under the table. "What the- Santana, What did you do? Are you actually the spawn of Satan? I thought that was a joke," Puck said as the girl started to rise back up from underneath the table.
"Noah," Santana started, "I think you need to explain to her that 'Puck'" the blonde ducked, "Is your name."
The blonde girl resumed her seat. "It's weird that you guys play hockey during lunch."
"Moron," Santana muttered and resumed staring at the food stains. She tuned out both Quinn and Puck as Puck started to explain about his name, and Quinn had resumed talking about… something. Santana was bored again.
Over the next few months, the blonde girl had continued to sit by Santana at lunch. Quinn had this idea that in order to maintain status, no one at the lunch table could move around. Santana found herself being forced to listen to Quinn, since the blonde, what was her name? was always chatting to Puck, and Santana refused to have another conversation where she could feel her IQ points draining. It wasn't until cheerleading practice started that she learned the girl's name was Brittany. Santana felt jealous when she realized that Brittany was actually a pretty good cheerleader, but for the most part, Santana ignored her. Puck and Quinn would talk to Brittany, asking her questions and chuckling at her answers. Santana just stared at her lunch. She occasionally thought about joining in, but then she realized that she didn't really care. It wasn't like Santana saw much of the blonde girl, and she spent most of her free time, scratch that, she spent all of her time sulking. Santana probably knew more about the floor than she knew about her 'friends'. It wasn't until her dad volunteered to drive Brittany home that Santana acknowledged her presence again.
"How was school today?" Santana's dad asked from the front seat. Santana shrugged. "Confusing," Brittany answered. Santana's dad chuckled, not realizing she wasn't joking.
"Santana was working hard on that essay for English. How did you girls do?"
"I don't know," Santana was trying to end all conversation. She much preferred silence.
"Ms. Moore said she got the highest grade in the class."
"How do you know that?" Santana asked bewildered. People didn't gossip about that type of stuff.
"I'm in your class."
"Since when?"
"Since school started. We have English, History, Science, and Art together. You call me Allison in science class."
"Wait. Allison's not a person? She's you?"
Brittany looked at her. "I'm a person. You see me 6 times every day, including Cheer and lunch."
"Well… You look different under fluorescent lights." Santana defended. I've never really noticed her have I?, Santana thought, but I've been trying to be friends with Allison for months now. This explains why Allison hates me. Wait. Brittany hates me? She's not allowed to hate me. I hate her. She stole my friends and my brain power. She's already making me dumber. She can't hate me. I'll make sure she likes me. "Why didn't you correct me?"
"I just thought you were stupid," Brittany shrugged. Santana scowled. She did not like this girl.
After they dropped Brittany off, Mr. Lopez turned to Santana, "I like your friend. She's nice."
"She's not my friend", Santana huffed. Mr. Lopez looked disappointed. "But, yeah, she's nice." Santana added.
Santana was proud of herself the next week. She seemed to have mastered the art of selflessness. She had pinpointed exactly where Brittany sat in each of their classes, which was always surprisingly close to Santana's seat, and she had smiled to her once. Really Santana thought she deserved an award, that smile took a lot of effort. It was incredibly difficult to pull herself from her self-absorbed bubble and acknowledge someone else, and Santana abhorred the vexing task. She managed to learn that Brittany was not as dumb as she thought, just incredibly odd, and that she was a really good dancer. One day Brittany was showing off her dance moves for Puck, who just wanted to see up her skirt, when she tripped over Santana's bag, spilling the contents everywhere. That was the day Brittany realized Santana had a soul. A furious Santana, instead of making a rude comment, silently helped her up and picked up her scattered materials without saying a word.
"Sorry I tripped over your book bag," Brittany said as she handed Santana her algebra book.
"Book bag? Who calls it that? It's a backpack," Santana's words weren't as mean as she had intended them to be. She was distracted, trying to stop her history homework from blowing away. She had worked hard at getting the answers from the kid in the wheelchair.
They began having small conversations in the car when her dad would pick them up from practice, mostly because Santana didn't want to upset her dad. He was happy that she had made a friend. Santana spent an awful lot of time sulking in her room, and he wanted to see her happy. They mainly talked about Brittany's past. She had moved around a lot. Santana didn't like talking.
They were partnered up once in English for peer-review. Santana's story about Cindy Loo Hoo's dysfunctional family made Brittany laugh. Santana decided Brittany was okay.
Santana started to feel less lonely. She didn't know why. She also started being nicer, well, less mean, to other people. She even talked to Brittany and Puck at lunch. They had really bonded while Santana had been ignoring them. Santana felt jealous again, but for some reason her anger was directed at Puck. Sometimes they listened to Brittany's iPod on the way home. Santana decided Brittany needed more flavor in her song selections and let her borrow a few C.D.s.
One day, Brittany's mother drove them home from school and Santana had to stay over at Brittany's before her dad could pick her up. That was the day Santana Lopez met her match. Brittany's cat may very well have originated from the depths of hell. Santana had barricaded herself on Brittany's bed while the fiend paced beneath her. Brittany cooed and hugged her cat. It purred into Brittany's side and growled at Santana. Eventually, Santana started feeding the cat food while Brittany's back was turned. She hoped to appease it, or at least get it fat enough so that it was too lazy to bite her.
"I have very exciting news for you class," Mrs. T announced when they were all seated in art class. Berry's hand shot into the air, while she squealed "I know! I know! Let me tell! I know!" Quinn flicked a marker at the back of her head but missed. Santana chuckled. Brittany was drawing a picture. Mrs. T ignored Rachel. It was best to pretend she didn't exist. "Wicked is coming to town next week, and we all get to go see it."
"What's Wicked ?" Finn asked.
Rachel looked at Finn like he had just said the dumbest thing she had ever heard. But, Santana didn't know what Wicked was either, and she had heard far dumber things come from that boy's mouth. Sometimes Brittany seemed genius in comparison to him. Santana looked over at Brittany who was drawing two dolphins holding hands. Just Odd, Santana reminded herself. Santana turned back to the scene before her, when Rachel had started going into a monologue about how Wicked was one of the most famous Broadway musicals about the Wicked Witch of the West and starred … someone. Santana had stopped paying attention to what Rachel was saying and was now watching Quinn aim her spit ball right at the annoying diva. Berry stopped her rant when the spit ball landed on the back of her head, and she whirled around to glare at Quinn who was picking at her nails.
Mrs. T took this moment to pick up where she left off, ignoring Berry's protests of injustice. "One of the managers is golf-buddies with our Principal, so the art classes will go to the city for a day and spend the night at a hotel. Have your parents sign the release forms. Bring money and formal clothes to wear to the show. Also, on the back of your forms, write down the top three people you would like to room with. It's four to a room. Girls and boys are to have separate rooms, Puckerman. We will have security in the hallways making sure no one sneaks out for any late night misadventures."
Quinn grinned at the three of them. "Since we're all friends," she began. Santana looked incredulously at her. "We should all room together, obviously. But I also think we should put Manhands at the top of our lists." Santana rolled her eyes. What was it with Quinn that she had to find every way to torture Berry? "Fine, but if she ends up rooming with us, you're sleeping with her," Santana acquiesced.
Brittany looked confused. Quinn sighed, "I want you to put Rachel at the top of your list."
"Oh, that'll be fun!" Brittany said excitedly.
"I'll bet," Santana mumbled.
The teachers clearly weren't as dumb as they looked, which wasn't much of an accomplishment in Santana's book. They denied the girl's request to room with Rachel, and instead they were paired with some random, one of the other cheerleaders. The girl seemed excited to room with them. Santana ignored her.
At the hotel, Santana was putting on a black shawl to go with her strapless black dress when she heard the bath water start to run. She looked at her phone for the time then marched over and knocked on the door. "Umm… Brittany?"
"Yeah?"
"You don't have time for a bath. We have to leave in fifteen."
Brittany opened the door clad in only her bra and underwear. "I wanted to curl my hair, but I didn't want to burn myself."
Santana failed to see the logic. However, when she saw the curling iron dangling precariously close to the bathtub's edge, Santana hurriedly moved the curling iron to a safer spot, turned off the water, and drained the tub. "Umm… I'll do it for you." Santana saw Brittany's hesitation. "I promise you won't get burned."
The heat from the curling iron made the small room increasingly warm, and Santana was struggling to start a conversation in order to make the situation less awkward. "So, which place did you like the best?"
"Huh?"
"Out of all the places you lived, which place did you like the best? I'm sure it's not grand ole' Lima, Ohio."
"Florida."
"Why?"
"Disney World."
"Not 'cause it felt like home?"
"The only thing that feels like home is being on the road."
"Oh," Santana let the room fall back into silence. She's kind of interesting.
The door burst open. "Come on! Everybody's waiting downstairs. For goodness sake! Brittany, would you get dressed?" Quinn huffed, "Manhands won't shut up, and my plan was to torture her not kill her, but I honestly don't think I can last much longer."
Santana was satisfied with her work, so she unplugged the curling iron and left the room so Brittany could dress. "Thanks," she heard Brittany say. Santana shrugged he shoulders, blushing a little.
They were seated as far away from Berry as possible. Santana did not want to hear Berry sing along with every song or squeal in delight every 5 minutes. Santana felt herself enjoying the play, and by intermission, she was applauding enthusiastically. Rachel left her seat, probably to go buy everything they were selling in the foyer. Quinn silently followed, leaving Santana and Brittany alone. Santana turned to Brittany "Do you like it?"
"Yeah"
"Umm…" Santana was struggling for words. She knew pretty much nothing about this girl, including how to have a conversation with her. "What song did you like the best?"
"Probably Defying Gravity, but I really liked the dancing one as well."
"Favorite character?"
Brittany gave her a look, "Elphaba. duh," Brittany looked Santana over, "You kind of look like her tonight, except your skin isn't green."
Santana laughed, "And I'm not a witch."
Brittany raised her eyebrows disbelievingly. "Who's your favorite character?"
"Galinda, She's hilarious. You kind of look like her in that pink dress, and with your hair in curls."
"So you're Elphaba, and I'm Galinda. Does that mean we get to go to the Emerald City?"
Santana laughed. She was surprised she found Brittany funny. She hadn't role played, since she was a little kid when she played power rangers with her siblings.
"Yeah, sure. Think the Scarecrow will know the way?" Santana asked pointing at Finn, "Or should we enlist the help of the tin man?" she asked, now pointing at Puck.
Quinn came back in a huff. "I couldn't find the little smirf. She's impossible to find in a crowd where everyone is at least a foot taller than her… Oh.., there she is. How did she manage that?" Santana looked over to where Quinn was staring. By the size of the bag Berry was carrying, Santana figured she had managed to buy almost every piece of memorabilia they were selling. Quinn laughed when Puck stuck out his foot and Berry went crashing to the floor, spilling the contents of her bag everywhere. Santana counted 5 Wicked C.D.s, which she found strange since it was obvious Berry already knew all the songs. Quinn picked up one of the C.D.s and put it in her purse. Puck sent a wink their direction. Quinn giggled. Santana rolled her eyes. Brittany was looking at Santana. "What were the two of you talking about?" Quinn asked.
"Santana is Elphaba and I'm Galinda," Brittany replied.
Quinn frowned, "Why?"
"'cause of what we're wearing," Santana shrugged.
"I'm wearing pink. How come I'm not Glinda?"
"Galinda," Santana corrected then shrugged again, "Brittany does it better." Brittany looked pleased. Quinn huffed, but the second act was starting.
Santana collapsed on the bed her and Quinn were sharing, a lazy smile appearing on her face. Brittany was giggling and jumping on her bed, singing the lyrics to Popular, or what Brittany clearly thought were the lyrics. Santana thought Brittany's version was pretty good too.
"Those aren't the lyrics," the random huffed, "Aren't we gonna do something fun now?" The random looked up expectantly at Quinn who was shimmying out of her dress and into sweats.
Quinn shrugged and looked over at Santana, "Possible?"
Santana sighed. She got up and walked over to the door. She quickly took a peak outside and saw the body guard Mrs. T had promised. She then moved to the window. Santana shook her head. The ledge was too thin and they were too high up. Quinn shrugged, "Guess we'll be staying in tonight." This did not please the random. "Come on, we could prank call the boys or the teachers."
Quinn laughed, "That is so 7th grade of you. Yeah, and we can all braid each others' hair, and Santana can tell her stories."
Brittany stopped humming, having given up on the lyrics. She looked at Santana. "What stories?"
Santana glared at Quinn, "When we were younger, I used to make up outrageous stories, but that was when we had nothing better to do. We're far less juvenile now."
"Oh, well I don't want to hear prison stories."
"No, not prison stories," Santana sighed, "Childish stories."
Brittany squealed, "Oh I love children's stories. Tell me one!"
Santana was pleased by Brittany's attention and nodded her head. "Okay, so once upon a time there was a random blonde chick named Goldilocks."
Quinn rolled her eyes. "Don't be stupid."
"I wanna hear it," Brittany whined.
Santana shrugged and continued, "Goldilocks was a notorious pick pocket. And a good one too, but she eventually got tired of stealing people's wallets all the time. It was just too easy, so she started stealing from people's houses instead. She had stolen from every person's house in the village except for 3 young girls. Their names were Brittany, Santana, and Quinn."
Brittany clapped her hands in delight. "That's my name! That's our names! Quinn! We're in the story!" Quinn rolled her eyes.
The random frowned, "And where am I?"
Santana ignored her. "Brittany lived in a house made of straw."Brittany nodded like this was a suitable structure. "But Goldilocks, who had a huge mouth, which was good for blowing things, blew her house down, and stole all her possessions." Brittany looked angry. "So, Brittany went to Quinn's house, knowing her friend would help her," Brittany looked meaningfully at Quinn, "Quinn's house was made of sticks, because it was made by a lazy boy named Finn. Goldilocks blew her house down too, and stole all her possessions. Quinn vowed revenge, and the two of them made their way to Santana's house. Santana's house was made of brick, was surrounded by an 8ft thick cement wall, and had a kickass security system to keep out lazy freeloaders. However, Santana was on the same cheerleading squad as Brittany and Quinn, so she let them room with her."
"I'm on the cheerleading squad," the random grumbled. Brittany shushed her. Santana smiled. "So, Anyways. Goldilocks showed up at Santana's house with a tank." Brittany looked frightened. "Don't worry. Quinn had a secret weapon that was stored at Santana's house. It's called the HBIC-3000. Quinn fired the device at Goldilocks, who immediately felt insecure and ran off crying into the woods, because she was ashamed of being alive. And we all lived Happily Ever After. The E-"
"Wait!" Brittany yelled.
"What?" Santana had thought her story was pretty good.
"Goldilocks is sad."
"Yeah?"
"Make her happy?"
"What?"
"I want her to have a happy ending," Brittany insisted
"erm… but she found a magic carpet and it was all okay. The End?"
Brittany seemed enthused. Santana had no idea what just came out of her mouth.
"The End." Brittany repeated confidently.
"Seriously, that was boring! Can't we at least prank call Rachel?" The random whined. Quinn looked like she had never heard a better idea. Brittany was staring at Santana who had resumed lying on her back and was staring at the ceiling.
Quinn was exhausted and was currently drooling on Santana's shoulder as they rode back on the bus. Santana figured it was due to the lack of sleep Quinn got from pestering Rachel all night. Santana looked back at Brittany, who looked back at her and smiled. Santana looked over at the random who was sulking and looking out the window. Brittany followed her gaze and shrugged. Santana wasn't sure why, but she felt a strong urge to talk to Brittany. She really did like the girl, and she genuinely wanted to know more about her. Santana approached the two. "Hey," She addressed the random, "Switch seats with me."
It was a command, but the random looked more than happy to do so. Sitting next to Quinn was probably the closest she was ever going to get to popularity, even if Quinn was just going to drool on the girl in her sleep.
"Hi, Brittany," Santana said shyly, "Umm… how are you?"
"Tired," Brittany responded. She slid over to the next seat, so Santana could sit by her.
Santana dropped her gaze, "Oh, well, you can sleep if you want, but, I kinda wanted to talk to you?"
"You wanted to talk to me?" It was the most confused Santana had ever seen Brittany look, which was really saying something.
"Yeah, I think you're interesting."
"Oh," was all Brittany said. She still looked confused, but happy.
"umm…" Santana really didn't know where to start. She tried to think back to conversations they had at lunch, but then she remembered that she spent most of her time ignoring people. She tried to think of what they talked about in the car, but she decided that Brittany's past may not be the most pleasant subject for her. Come on! What do girls our age talk about? Santana wasn't socially inept, but she felt flustered around Brittany for some reason. "Do you like any guys, here?" Santana blurted. Maybe it wasn't the best topic, but secret telling is what brought her and Quinn together, and Santana really wanted to be close to Brittany.
Brittany debated something in her head for a while before leaning over and whispering in Santana's ear, "Kurt's kind of cute, and he's got great fashion sense, but I don't think he likes me."
Santana smiled over at Brittany and whispered, "That's because he's capital G, Gay."
Brittany frowned, "I knew he didn't like me."
"He's stupid," Santana said.
"Santana," Brittany whispered, "Being gay doesn't mean he's stupid-"
"-No, no, I just mean. Anyone would be stupid not to like you. Gay or otherwise."
Brittany looked at her in disbelief, "You didn't like me."
"Yeah, well, I'm pretty stupid."
Brittany smiled. Santana felt the conversation come to a close, and started looking around. She wanted to keep Brittany's attention somehow. She reached over and grabbed a pack of cards from Berry's bag.
"Wanna play a card game?" she asked Brittany.
"Hey-" Rachel protested.
Brittany nodded, "Yeah, but I only know how to play one game."
"Oh? What is it?" Santana asked as she handed the deck to Brittany. Brittany carefully slid the cards out of their package, and then threw them in the air, shouting, "52 pick up!"
Santana laughed as Rachel turned bright red and started squealing about how she had had enough of the cheerleaders picking on her and… something. Santana didn't care. She was laughing along with Brittany as cards fell around them. Blocking out Berry, who was practically screaming in her ear, she turned to Brittany, "That was fun, but I think I should teach you some other card games." Brittany clapped her hands and hugged Santana. Santana smiled the rest of the way home, and she was certain it was because of the adorable blonde sitting next to her.