"How did this happen? Is it even true? It's not like I've ever acted on this." These were the thoughts passing through Santana Lopez's mind April 3 during her freshmen year. This is the day that her best friend Puck was reading her hand. On the left hand it said that she would have one kid. She couldn't even handle being with kids let alone having one. She scoffed at it because there's no way this hand reading thing could be true. Well that is what Santana thought until he read her right hand.
About 6 Hours Ago
"Now Santana let's see how many guys you're gonna fuck," said Puck winking a little too suggestively.
"Santana… You're going to have one husband and what does this stand for Finn?"
"Oh, that means a gay marriage," said Finn blushing because he was totally thinking about Santana and Quinn getting it on.
"Well, I for one think this is not real. Santana need s penis. It has to be a man-lady at least. Am I right Santana?" asked Puck.
"You're disgusting Puckerman!" Santana said nervously.
Santana laughed nervously with her friends. Nervously. Nervously. Santana was scared. She wasn't ready for this. Then again it was just a stupid palm reading Puck. No one will care about this. Well except herself. Deep down she knew that a couple months ago things changed. She saw people differently. Well she saw girls differently.
Santana could not help taking subtle glances at the teenage girls' bodies. They were hot. The guys not so much. It wasn't like there weren't guys that offered to be her boyfriend because there definitely was. She tried and tried with Puck. There was no spark. Just making out and no although everyone thought so Santana Lopez was indeed a virgin and has never slept with Puck.
So here she is laughing nervously with her friends and calling her best friend Quinn a whore because her hand reading said she would have three husbands. Good thing her friends are oblivious to Santana's shaky legs well for now.
Present
Wanting to get away, the latina quickly ran past her abuela to go to the bathroom. She couldn't hold back the tears anymore. She tore off her clothes exposing her fading tan since it hasn't been a while since summertime. Damn Ohio weather sucks. She remembers to put on her coldplay playlist before she steps into the shower. Hopefully the music can drown out the sound of her tears.
Look at the stars I came along So then I took my turn Your skin I swam across Cause you were all yellow Your skin It's true Look at the stars
Look how they shine for you
And everything you do
Yeah they were all yellow
I wrote a song for you
And all the things you do
And it was called yellow
Oh what a thing to have done
And it was all yellow
Oh yeah your skin and bones
Turn into something beautiful
You know you know I love you so
You know I love you so
I jumped across for you
Oh what a thing to do
I drew a line
I drew a line for you
Oh what a thing to do
And it was all yellow
Oh yeah your skin and bones
Turn into something beautiful
And you know
For you I'd bleed myself dry
For you I'd bleed myself dry
Look how they shine for you
Look how they shine for you
Look how they shine for
Look how they shine for you
Look how they shine for you
Look how they shine
Look how they shine for you
And all the things that you do
Her legs trembled so she turned off the shower and switch it to a bath. She sunk down not caring that the water was extremely cold and goose bumps were appearing on her arms. Santana cried. She cried because she knew that she was gay even if she had never been with a girl. She wished she had. So many thoughts were passing through her head. She sat there and prayed. She prayed for acceptance and asked if she was going to hell. And unfortunately there was no answer for Santana. There is no answer for everyone, but I'm sure that the tears that Santana had cried that night in the bathroom were enough to drown the fiery pits of hell.
Her hands and feet started to prune. She grabbed her phone to check the time. It's been a whole two hours since she dove into the bath of tears so she got up with the help of the tile wall because she was too weak to stand on her own. She wrapped the towel around her looking into the mirror only to see red, puffy eyes.
"Fuck. How am I supposed to explain this? You know what I'm going to just go to bed. Screw the essay. I get good grades anyways. What's one zero going to do to me?"
Santana tucked herself in bed and slept for what seemed an eternity only filled with dreams. Happy ones oddly enough.