It's a Wednesday afternoon in the choir room when she calls him out on it. Santana sits, bored, in her usual chair in glee next to her boyfriend (? She isn't entirely sure what he is), Sam Evans. He wears an expression that has only become more frequent on his face recently; one of sorrow and hesitation. To be honest, it offends her a little bit, but she'd be lying if she didn't say she was very familiar with the feeling.
"Look, fishlips. You could at least pretend to be into me." she mutters quietly as the other glee clubbers file into the room. Sam looks up at her, snapping out of his daze. His dreadful facial expression fades away into a blank slate and Santana knows he has to work to hide it. It's like a mask.
"What?" he asks, trying to look a little confused and Santana rolls her eyes at his pitiful acting. For someone that was so damn good at hiding what was going on with him, his acting left something to be desired. She doesn't answer his question, only takes his hand. She quickly discovers how clammy they are and she turns to look at him.
His expression has faded back into what it was before she said anything. She sighs. She knows their relationship is nothing but a game. A well thought out game, but still a game nonetheless. She knows their using each other. Santana has her reasons for dating Sam, her motivations are always the same.
Brittany stands at the door to the choir room. Santana's eyes flit over to her and she knows the facial expression she's wearing right now is nothing short of pitiful.
(She's seen it in the mirror. She's seen the longing eyes, the tiny frown and the otherwise pathetic plains of her face that always show up when Brittany enters the picture).
Brittany is her motivation. She always has been, she always will be. Up until a few months ago, she had been obtainable, easy. But then Artie came into the picture, someone Santana has long since grown to hate. Brittany had become smitten with him, not Santana.
And that hurt, quite a bit, if she was being honest. Sighing, she tears her eyes away from the blonde as she walks into the room, pushing the wheelchair of her worst enemy. Her eyes flit over to the boy beside her. His face was still full of despair and she knew not to question it, because that was how they did things between them. Still, she couldn't help but wonder what his hidden agenda was. Or, more importantly, what has him so depressed.
She looks down a little at their entwined hands and begins to notice just how clammy Sam's hands truly are. She releases him.
He doesn't look at her. No questions are asked. And that's fine.
"It's clear we're using each other, you know?" Santana asks the next day in the very same choir room. Sam's head snaps up and he looks a little hurt for a moment. Then, Santana gives her the standard 'are you fucking kidding me right now' stare, and his expression once again fades away.
"I know." he replies, and drops her hand. Santana would be lying if she wasn't grateful. It isn't that she doesn't like Sam, because he's cute and he's nice and he's very unlike all the other boys. She just can't bring herself to be romantically attached to him. She knows it's mutual. Which begs the question; just who is he romantically attached to?
Why did she even care? Santana Lopez usually didn't look out for anybody but herself (and Brittany, but being abandoned by her had made Santana reluctant to defend her very much). So why was it that Sam Evans, someone that she was not romantically attracted to, or was even sure she liked very much, worrying her? It was almost as if his sadness was her sadness.
"Sam.." she began, not quite sure what it was she wanted to say. He looks up at her with those wide expectant eyes that are so full of hurt for some reason that she can't take looking directly at him. "Why are we doing this, then?" she asks and that isn't the question she wants to ask at all, but the words tumble out of her mouth precisely a moment before she realizes it and can catch them.
There doesn't appear to be much damage done. Sam only shrugs. Santana gauges his reaction only to find the complete lack of one. "I don't know." he replies after a few moments. "I just need someone to hang onto." Santana smirks knowingly. So there is someone else. And if her suspicions since day one are in any way correct, that person isn't female.
"Who's the guy?" she asks and Sam's head snaps up so quickly that Santana's sure he's giving himself whiplash. He looks at her in fear and shock and it's the first genuine look he's given anyone in days. Santana knows she's hit the jackpot. She smiles amusedly at him.
"Guy?" he asks, voice shaking a little bit. "What guy?" Santana shakes his head and gives him another glare telling him to keep his mouth shut.
"Sam, you're a terrible liar. Don't you trust me? I can keep a secret. Besides, this works out perfectly for both of us." she mutters quietly as more and more people file into the room. Santana's eyes are on Brittany as she watches the blonde stride into the room.
"No, I don't trust you. You can't keep a secret." Sam whispers back and for a moment Santana is hurt. She glances at him, letting him know that he's definitely not saying the right thing, but he only shakes his head at her. Santana nibbles on the inside of her cheek, something she always does when she's thinking. Not that Sam knows that. He never asks any questions. Which is fine for her.
"I'm in love with Brittany." she explains, thinking that if she shares a secret of hers, it'll incline Sam to be able to trust her and let her in on his own dirty little secret. But, much to her dismay, her plan backfires when Sam nods.
"I know." he mutters and Santana gives him a confused look. "We all do. Santana, it's painfully obvious."
"So what are you saying?" she hisses, and he flinches a bit. She doesn't want to scare him. Which scares her a little bit. Why does she care so much? She softens her voice anyway. "Are you saying that we're each other's beards?"
Sam shrugs. "You're just assuming I'm gay." he replies as if it's an offhand thing. As if he isn't gay. If there's one thing that Santana Lopez isn't, it's wrong.
"I'm not assuming. I know." she replies, brushing some imaginary dust off of her shoulder and flicking some raven hair off of it. "Why else would you be okay being the boyfriend of the girl who wants to date another chick? It's clear you aren't getting any sex or anything. So what's in it for you, Sammy?"
He doesn't have a reply to this. Santana smirks like she always does when she knows she's won. She crosses her arms and fixes Sam with her best accusatory gaze. "So who is it? Who's the lucky guy?" She knows she's being a bitch to him, but she doesn't care at this very moment. Because Sam assumed that Santana didn't know what she was talking about and Santana always knows what she's talking about.
A long pause follows. Sam is looking down at his shoes and Santana inspects her nails, because she knows he'll come around. She only has to be a little patient. "Kurt." he says after a minute and Santana grins.
"Of course it's Kurt." she says, uncrossing her arms and giving Sam her sweetest smile. "Of course it is."
"You can't tell anyone." Sam pleads with her and she gives a little giggle.
"Me? Of course not. But I do have a plan." she replies, an evil little smirk playing onto her face.
"A plan? What plan?" Sam asks, his voice still shaking. She didn't know if it was in fear or whatever. But she did enjoy the position of power that she's been put in.
"Just a plan that'll get me with Brittany and you with Kurt." she replies, waving a hand as if it's nothing. But apparently it isn't. Not for Sam anyway.
"We can't do that. Please. Santana, no." Sam begs, pathetically and Santana is more than a little confused.
"Don't you want Kurt? You're not gonna get anywhere with that attitude." Santana explains, matter of factually and she notices that Sam's expression of intense sadness has returned.
"I know." he whispers and it's barely audible. "But I can't deal with this right now."
"Why not?" Santana asks, whispering as well. She's a little upset with him. He should be jumping on board with her plan and the fact that he isn't is a little off-putting.
"Because, okay? There's just a lot of things I have to deal with." Sam explains, his voice weak and wavering. Santana gives him a dirty look again before smirking.
"No, you're going to do this." she mutters, her voice ominous. "You're going to do it because if you don't, I'm outing you." Sam's head once again snaps up and his eyes nearly suffocate her with their fear. She feels a little bad about what she said a moment after it leaves her mouth. But hey, whatever works?
"You can't do that." Sam says, looking as if he's panicking and okay. Santana definitely feels bad about it now. But she can't back down now.
"I can and I will." No she won't. Santana knows she wouldn't do that. But what Sam doesn't know can't hurt him. Sure, she's mean. But she definitely isn't that mean.
"Santana..." Sam begins before cutting himself off. "Fine." he replies and Santana grins and does a little victory dance inwardly. "My dad wants to meet you though." Sam mutters, and he sounds sullen. Santana's brow furrows and she wonders what the connection is. Something has to be going on.
"Okay. So how about I come over for dinner tonight?" she asks and Sam nods in reply. Santana opens her mouth to ask if Sam's even okay, but Mr. Schuester walks in to start glee club right at that moment.
Besides, she thinks she already knows the answer.