Alright peeps! This is it. First chapter is finally up. Enjoy and review!

Chapter 1

Santana's P.O.V

The bell rang and my head shot up, realizing the class had ended. I was too caught up in my work to even realize it. Huh, when did I become a good student? I looked up and around and noticed that most of the students were already up and ready to leave, all except Sam. He was looking at me with a small smirk tugging at his huge lips.

"Miss Lopez, I'd like a word." We both turned around when we heard my name being called. He looked at me, his smirk growing even more and made a face to tell me I was in trouble. I politely flipped him off and he burst out laughing. He pointed towards the door to let me know he'd wait outside for me and I nodded at him while making my way to the teacher's desk.

I stopped at the desk in front of hers and leaned into it. "What's up miss, H?" I asked her. Not being my normal bitchy self was something I was still something I was getting used to. I needed good grades and I needed to do well at this school and I realized this was the best way to go. College was nothing like high school.

Miss Holiday looked up and smiled at me. She handed me a piece of paper and I recognized my handwriting. I looked up from the paper to the blonde teacher. She was walking towards the door. She closed it and made her way back to her desk but instead of sitting on her chair she hopped in and sat on the desk.

"This," She said while pointing at the paper, "Is really good work, Santana." I looked at her but didn't say anything, sensing a big 'but' was coming. "I'm just not sure I totally get it." She said, smiling at me.

Holly Holiday was definitely one of the best teachers at NYU. She was loved of pretty much every student. She was just awesome. "There's nothing to get, Miss H." I admitted in a soft tone. It was a lie, but she didn't need to know that.

Her eyes never left mine as she got off the desk to stand right in front of me. "Okay then." She smiled at me. "How do you feel about performing it?" She asked me and my eyes got wide.

"Uh, with all due respect, this is a writing class. Besides, I haven't sung in front of anybody since high school." I told my teacher as if it could explain everything.

She nodded. "Santana you have come a long way in those past few months. The things you keep to yourself, that you won't let nobody in on them are the reason those lyrics are so good. Don't get me wrong, as a teacher this should be enough, but we both know I'm not just your teacher anymore." She said softly putting her hand on my shoulder. "You'll have to let someone in someday, Santana."

"Someday." I admitted. She smiled at me but let it go. "Will I see you tonight?" I asked her. And just like that, I knew that conversation was over.

"Of course, it's my bar after all." Miss Holiday smiled at me. "Now go!" She said as she pointed to the door. A small smile found its way to my lips and I walked out of the class to find Sam leaning against a locker waiting for me.

"About time." He said with a smirk and I knew he was just kidding around. Beside Miss Holiday, Sam was the only person I could talk to. He knew everything that had happened in the last few years and he was there for me, always listening and never pushing it. He was like the big brother I never had, except he was my age.

"Everything okay?" Sam asked me.

"Yeah, she just wanted to talk to me about some stuff." I told him, not really getting into any details. Sam was a friend, but letting people had never been easy for me. "Actually she wanted me to perform." I admitted.

"That'd be so cool!" He exclaimed, "We could totally jam together!"

"Not gonna happen, trouty mouth." I shook my head.

We started walking towards the exit when he put his hand on my shoulder, stopping me from walking. "Oh my god!" He exclaimed.

"What?" I looked around to see what caused his outburst.

"I just remembered what tomorrow is." He smiled at me. "You'll get to see your girl!" He almost shouted. That time the smile that found its way to my lips was genuine.

"Yeah, finally." I whispered.