This was it. This was the last time Santana Lopez - or any of the other seniors, for that matter - would ever walk these halls. Well maybe not ever, since some of them, like Maria Crandall and Olivia Pennybaker and Eric Claren, wanted to become teachers here. For what fucking reason, Santana didn't know, but she knew for a fact that she would never return to this hell that the Lima district called a school.

She was cleaning out her locker, throwing away all the random pictures and Cheerios shit that had been taped to the aluminum over the years. All of the memories sort of blended together, like the four years she spent at this school was written in the sand until a big wave came and dragged it out to sea. Now all that was left was the faint markings, and she couldn't even remember how those got there. She couldn't have been that stoned throughout high school, right?

Many people - including her parents - were even surprised that she was able to graduate, for the little time she actually spent in school. She usually only came three out of five days of the week, or would only stay half of the day and leave after fourth period lunch. Maybe that's why she couldn't remember anything, because she was never there.

But that wasn't the point. The point was that she was graduating nonetheless, and finally getting out of Ohio for good.

Santana, like many of the other Cheerios, had gotten full athletic scholarships to various colleges; Ohio State, Michigan State, Rutgers, Penn State. Santana had gotten a scholarship to her first choice, California State. She was finally going back home to the beaches and sunshine and famous sights. She had missed it, and had wanted to go back her whole life, and her scholarship was her ticket there.

She finished tossing all her shit and shut the locker when she realized she was the only one in the hallway, probably the only one in the whole school. Everyone else was outside in the parking lot, going absolutely crazy. She planned on going out there and joining them, but she was going to take her time. Half of her class were douchebags anyway; she just wanted to get on with the parties that would be held all of that night.

She grabbed her bag from the ground and slung the strap over her shoulder and made her way down the hall, her heels making noise and clicking with every step. She listened to the rhythm, just letting her mind go off to where ever it wanted, but was pulled back to reality when she noticed that her footsteps weren't the only sound she was hearing.

She stopped and spun around, searching for the source of the sound. It was Quinn, walking up behind her. She should've known.

"Hey, you coming to my party tonight?" The blonde asked once she had reached Santana and stopped walking.

"Yeah, I think so." She replied, hooking her thumb around the strap of her bag. She and Quinn weren't necessarily friends, but they had grown closer senior year after they both realized they had more in common with one another than what they originally thought.

Quinn nodded. "Okay."

"Are you going?" Santana asked, obviously knowing the answer.

"Yeah, I am."

"Right." They both stood there, nodding at one another. The time was passing, and with each second, Santana grew more and more uncomfortable. She was almost desperate for sound.

"Listen, maybe you shouldn't go." Quinn said suddenly, and Santana jerked her head towards the blonde, her brows furrowed.

"What the fuck does that mean? You don't want me there?"

Quinn let out a slight laugh and shook her head. "No, no, that's not it. I'm just thinking, you know, that you should go somewhere else, because You-Know-Who won't be there."

Santana pressed her lips together, her brows knitted together in thought. "Quinn, look. If you don't want me there, cool. Just say so. But don't fucking stand here and play little mind games with me, because I don't have the time. I gotta go home and start packing some shit."

"Santana, it's not that I don't want you there, it's just...I didn't necessarily invite everyone."

"But you invited me." Santana argued, putting her weight on one foot and popping her hip to one side.

"Yeah, I know. But...I'm only allowed to have so many people at this party, and...there were some people that never...some of the Cheerios never..." Quinn looked over Santana's face, who still hadn't understood where Quinn was trying to go with this. Santana raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah..?"

Quinn gave a sigh. "Brittany's not coming." She said finally, after Santana had frustrated her beyond her point. "She's not coming. She can't."

"Okay, so?" The Latina replied slowly. This is why she should've gone to class.

"So, I was thinking that you and her should hangout before she leaves."

"But she doesn't leave until late-July."

"Right. But since you two are going to be halfway across the damn country, I figured that you would want to hangout as much as possible before you don't see each other for a whole year. That is, if you both come back for the summer."

Santana bit her cheek. Quinn did have a point. While Santana would be in California, Brittany would be in New York, teaching dance classes and studying film. They could always call each other, but nothing was better than seeing Brittany's Pierce's face in person.

Santana shrugged. "We can hangout tomorrow. Or the day after. Or next week. We have a whole fucking summer to chill."

"I know. But I'm just saying, she's not coming tonight, so who're you gonna hangout with? Me? Finn? Rachel?"

"Manhands is coming? Oh God, Quinn, what's wrong with you?"

Quinn shrugged and walked passed Santana.

"So, like I said, you can come tonight, and have an okay time, or you can chill with Britt and have the time of your life."

Santana watched Quinn disappear behind a corner, her footsteps eventually silencing. Santana turned and began walking back to the lot, where Ke$ha songs were blaring out of a stereo.

Brittany had been absent the last week of school, since her parents wanted her to have a good idea of what her college was like. She said that she would be coming back to Lima today, but she didn't give a time, and with all the prep that Santana still had to do, she doubted that they would meet up later on.

Santana made it to the parking lot and wasted no time in joining in on the celebration. A couple of guys had handed her some beers, and she had drank them all. There was also a small group of students who were passing around a joint, and she took a hit off of that as well. As much as she tried getting into the whole party mood, she couldn't because Quinn was giving her these looks, like she knew everything. Well, she kind of did. But that wasn't the point.

Once it was 5, Santana tossed her bag into the back seat of her 2011 Mazda 2, which was a graduation present from her parents. She had wanted an old Benz, so she could put crazy-shiny rims on it, but a Mazda was nice too.

She planned on heading home to get her shit together for Quinn's party tonight, but being a little high and a little buzzed, she went the opposite way of her house and instead headed towards Brittany's house.

Santana and Brittany still remained friends after their little fall out the last month of school. Neither of them ever brought it up, but it was still definitely a memory in both of their minds. Although Santana wished it had played out like she had preplanned in her mind, she was glad that Brittany still wanted to be friends after that. And she was lucky that no one at McKinley had found out that she had claimed to even be in love with Brittany in the first place.

They hadn't hung out as much as they used to, but they still talked a lot, whether it was through Skype or text or sometimes even in person. Santana still found talking in person with Brittany difficult though, so they didn't take the time to talk too much when they were together, and instead wasted time by watching movies or going shopping.

Santana pulled into the driveway and saw that there were two cars already parked there, so they were indeed home. Santana got out of her car and hustled up to the front door, where she rang the doorbell a couple times. She wasn't really sure why she was even at the Pierce's house, she hadn't really thought this through. She raised her hand to ring the doorbell a fourth time when the door swun open.

"Hello Santana." A chipper voice from inside the house said.

"Oh, hey, Mrs. Pierce." The brunette replied. She peered past Brittany's mom and into the house that she was so familiar with. "Is Britt home?"

"No, I think she's at work." The woman replied.

Santana nodded. "Do you know when she'll be back?"

"Not until late, I think."

"Oh."

"Do you want to come in and wait for her?" She offered, gesturing to behind her. Santana shook her head.

"Oh, no, that's okay. Thanks though." She said, and turned on her heel to beging walking back to her car. She took about three steps and turned back.

"Actually, I left a shirt over here a couple weeks ago...mind if I run upstairs in Britt's room and grab it?"

Mrs. Pierce pushed open the screen door and held it open for Santana to walk in. She was instantly greeted with cool air conditioning, and for a second, it made her body shiver.

She mounted the familiar hardwood stairs and climbed them up to the top, where she then walked four doors down the hallway and stopped at the shut door in front of her. Definitely Brittany's room, the sign taped on it that said 'Brittany's room, don't come in here EVER. Unless you're Santana then come right in :)' gave that away. She turned the knob and stepped inside, the cuteness of her best friend's room making her smile.

Three of the walls were painted a shade of pink, while the wall opposite of the door was completely covered in posters and pictures. Most of them were of her and Santana, which the Latina loved, and also found it quite flattering. Of course taped on other walls was a giant collage of red and white McKinley High Titans and Cheerios shit, which also made Santana proud. Her queen-sized bed was pushed up against one wall, where there were at least four shelves of cheerleading trophies. Santana had to admit, Brittany was a super talented cheerleader.

Santana made her way right to the closet, where all of Brittany's clothes still hung. Clearly she hadn't started packing yet, being the procrastinator that she is. Santana found herself staring around the closet, wondering what she was supposed to be doing. Then she remembered that she hadn't actually forgotten a shirt here, although she figured that there were probably four or five pieces of her clothing here somewhere. She shut the closet and made her way to Brittany's desk, which was right next to her window. She grabbed a post-it and a marker - both pink, since pink was clearly Brittany's favorite color - and scribbled out a note. It was still readable, kind of, so she went back over her writing carefully a second time to make the markings darker. Satisfied, she stuck the note to Brittany's mirror beside her bed and made her way back downstairs.

"Did you find it?" Mrs. Pierce asked from her position at the kitchen table, cutting out coupons. She had always been super obsessed with them. Santana strolled into the kitchen.

"Oh, yeah." She said, nodding. Mrs. Pierce looked to Santana's hands and raised an eyebrow. Santana realized that since she hadn't actually lost a shirt, she never grabbed one. She quickly came up with a cover.

"But I decided that it looks better on B, so she can keep it." She shrugged, watching Mrs. Pierce smile.

"That's so sweet of you, Santana."

She shrugged and smiled at her.

"Right. Well, I should probably go, don't want my parents to worry too much." She said, knowing that no one would be home when she got there. "Can you tell Brittany to call me when she gets home?"

Mrs. Pierce nodded sweetly and Santana smiled a thanks to her before heading out.

She didn't focus too much on driving, and instead thought about what Quinn had said. Although Santana and Quinn weren't close, and still might kind of hate each other for whatever reason, she had to admit, Quinn knew what she was talking about. But how? If no one at McKinley besides Santana and Brittany knew about what had happened at the lockers that day, and they never even talked about it anymore, how did Quinn know?

Brittany arrived home at about seven. She trudged halfway up the stairs when her mom stopped her.

"Oh, Brittany, Santana was here."

Brittany frowned a little, feeling bad that she missed her friend. "Why?"

Her mother shrugged. "I don't know. But she told me to tell you to call her."

"'Kay."

She continued up the stairs to her room, where she found the door open. Weird, because she always closed it. She slipped into her room and collapsed on her bed, too exhausted to even pull her phone out of her pocket to call Santana. She had nothing to say to her, anyway. It had been awkward around her lately, so Brittany had somewhat purposely been avoiding her. Sometimes she couldn't help it, like at school, so she kind of had to talk then, but now that she didn't have to go back to McKinley, she didn't have to talk to Santana everyday.

But she felt really bad about ignoring her, so she sighed and fished her phone out of her pocket. She dialed the way too familiar number and rolled over on her side to lay the phone over her ear, too tired to even hold the phone. She listened to it ring once, twice, three times, four times.

Eventually Santana's voicemail played, and Brittany waited it out. She finally heard the beep, telling her to leave a message.

"Hey, San, my mom told me to call you so...calling you. 'Kay. Bye." She hung up and tossed her phone towards the end of her bed.

She pushed herself up and began stripping out of her work uniform to put on more comfortable clothes. When she glanced at her mirror, something was stuck to it. Her brow furrowed, and she stepped to her mirror, peeling off the post-it.

'Hey B. We need to talk. Come over. Love San.'

Talk about what? Santana never talked. To her, talking usually meant fooling around a little then falling asleep. But Santana was her best friend, and she had sort of ignored her the past month, so she felt sort of obligated to go.

She held the note in her hands, reading over it a second and third time. Finally, she sighed and crinkled it up in her palm, and tossed it over to her trashcan. She flopped back onto her bed and pulled her phone back to her, and dialed a number.

"Hey Artie, wanna hang out? I have nothing else to do..."

Meanwhile, Santana sat in her kitchen, cinnamon-scented candles lit, a banana split for two melting in the center of the table. She knew Brittany was coming. Any minute now, she would be walking through the door. Any minute now.