AN: Hey guys! For those of you reading "Us Against the World", I apologize for the long update. I'm working on it, I promise. So, here goes my spin on how Santana met Brittany.
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or its characters. Sad day for me.
When Santana was seven, her mother and good for nothing step-father could finally afford to move out of Lima Heights Adjacent. With the move, they decided to transfer Santana to what they called "a better school". Santana saw it as nothing short of torture. All of her friends from Lima Heights told her they weren't going to talk to some non-Lima Heights kid, to which Santana had responded with stomping on their feet and a fist in their mouths. It, after all, wasn't her fault that her step-father's practice was finally managing to roll in the dough so they could afford a nice house in a cushy neighborhood. Santana would have been more than happy to just stay in the Heights.
Santana therefore was not exactly a ray of sunshine when her mother came into her room, demanding that she get up and get ready. "Pero mama..."("But mom...") Santana whined, trying to curl up deeper into her new bed.
"No mija! Get up. It's your first day at your new school. Don't you want to make a good impression?" Her mother scolded, her thick Puerto Rican accent making the words flow over Santana. Santana, at this point in her life, was not really concerned about image. She just didn't want to go to school. So, she decided that she was going to be as difficult as could be to get back at her parents. That would show them. She took her sweet time slumping out of bed and picking the most horrendous outfit she could find to wear. She knew that hell would freeze over before her mom would ever let her out of the house like this. Taking a good twenty minutes (or so it seemed to her) to tie her shoes, Santana could hear her mom down in the kitchen for once.
Santana walked slowly down the stairs, considering if it would be worth it to turn on the water works. It usually worked with her step-dad, but unfortunately he was already at work. When Santana got to the bottom of the stairs, her mother turned around and, with a satisfied smirk, Santana watched as her mother's expression went from hurried to angry. "Santana Maria Lopez, if you think I'm letting you leave the house like that..." Santana heard her mother mutter to herself in Spanish, catching very little except the phrase 'I'm too young for this'. "Santana, image is very important. First impressions are important. Robert is very important in this community now, and I will not have people see you like this and think badly of me. Come, you're getting changed."
"But mama..." Santana said, a wicked smile growing on her face. "I'll be late for school." With satisfaction, Santana watched as her mother had an internal battle with herself.
Santana couldn't help but feel slightly horrified when her mother glared at her and replied, "Then we'll have to hurry, no?"
Ten minutes later, Santana found herself pouting in the back of her mother's car, rubbing her eyes to stop the tears that were welling. After all, she was Santana Lopez, she was seven year old, and big girls don't cry. Her stomach rumbled slightly, having never received breakfast as her mother had been too busy shoving her into a dress and pulling her unruly hair into a ponytail. They pulled up to a big school filled with happy little white children. Santana immediately disliked it. "No me gusta. Mama, por favor, quiero ir..." ("I don't like it. Mom, please, I want to go...")
Before Santana could finish, her mother replied, "Mija, no tengo tiempo para esto. And speak in English. You need to practice. Comprendes? Now go. Be nice and I'm sure you'll make plenty of friends. Wipe that scowl off of your face!" ("Sweetie, I don't have time for this...Understand?") At her mother's command to be nice, Santana had started scowling, but at her mother's next command she simply pouted. "Go." With her mother's encouragement, Santana clicked up her seat belt before throwing open her door.
Santana pulled her new blue backpack's straps over her shoulders before straightening her back and lifting her chin. She wasn't afraid of anything, she was Santana Lopez, and as her mother constantly reminded her, being a Lopez was very important. She stalked forward, scanning the numbers on top of the classrooms for twenty-two. When she found it, she only hesitated for a moment before pushing open the door.
From the first five minutes in the room, Santana knew she wouldn't like her new second grade class. She couldn't help but scowl again. This was stupid. Santana froze in the door way, unsure of what her next move would be, when an older woman with thick glasses came over to her. "Hi. I'm Mrs. Anderson. Are you lost sweetie?" Santana was frozen with fear for moment before shaking her head. "Are you sure? What's your name?"
"Santana Lopez," Santana replied immediately, watching as the teacher checked her roster sheet.
"Oh! Hi Santana. Welcome to Lima Elementary! I'm going to be your teacher for the next year." Santana had to repress a scowl as the older woman gave her a large,plastic smile. "Now why don't you follow me and I'll show you your seat? Okay?" Santana simply nodded her head, following the teacher through a crowd of loud children until she was brought to a desk at the front of the class. In fact, it was right in front of the teacher's desk. Santana couldn't help but frown slightly. That was a "teacher's pet" type of seat, and Santana was NOT a teacher's pet. She did, however, kind of like the name card of her desk with her name written all pretty.
Santana reached out a hand to touch her name card when suddenly a hand shot out and grabbed hers. Startled, she ripped her hand back and glared at the offending girl. "Santana," Mrs. Anderson started up again, "this is your seat partner, Rachel. She was just trying to shake your hand, it's okay. Rachel, why don't you introduce yourself."
Santana crossed her arms and glared at the other girl. The other girl was her same height, but had long dark hair, and a large smile on her face. Santana scowled. The girl stuck out a hand and took a big breath before saying, "Why hello! My name is Rachel Barbara Berry. I'm seven and three quarters and I like to sing and I dance. I just know that we'll be excellent seat partners; however, I'd like to acknowledge that these are two separate desks and this is my desk, with my things. As long as you respect that I think..."
"Put your hand down," Santana spat out, unable to take the girl's chatter anymore. She saw the girl's smile slip as her hand lowered, while Santana blushed at the Puerto Rican accent influencing her words. It was, at the time, one of the only things Santana didn't like about herself. It made her self-concious and less talkative. She did however make the few words she said count. So there. She scowled and immediately sat down, refusing to look at her new seat partner or her stunned teacher. As far as making a first impression, she probably wasn't making a very good one, but she didn't care. Her mama would have to deal.
Santana couldn't help but feel a little relieved when the bell rang a few minutes later, signaling the beginning of class. She heard the chatter die down among the other children as the teacher took her place at the front of the room. Santana once again couldn't help the scowl that passed over her face when her teacher plastered another obviously fake smile on her face. Santana would know it was fake; her mom held a similar expression a lot. "Hello students! Good morning. I can tell all of you are very excited for school this week. Now, before I begin todays lesson, I want you all to say hi to our newest member. Class, say hello to Santana."
Santana felt a blush creep on to her cheeks as her new classmates now openly gawked at her. Whether they were doing it because she was new, or because her skin was several shades darker than any of theirs, she wasn't sure. She just knew that she didn't like it. "Santana, why don't you tell the class a little about yourself?" Santana gulped quickly before vehemently shaking her head. No no no no no. "Well class, it seems Santana is a little shy. But that's okay, I'm sure we can all make her feel very welcome and become her friends. Now, how about we start on some multiplication..."
By the time the class was released for their snack recess, Santana was completely and thoroughly frustrated. She was a smart girl, and usually she could pick up on lessons quickly (well...if she actually put in the effort), but after staring at her multiplication worksheet it became clear to her that she was far behind her new classmates. "Santana, run along sweetie," the teacher said, that fake smile once again plastered painfully on her face. Santana glared at her and smirked with satisfaction when she saw the teacher wince slightly. She stomped out of the room and went out to the playground before halting in her tracks. What was she supposed to do now?
She heard laughter near by and a blush immediatly bloomed on her cheeks. She turned around to yell at her classmates, because she wasn't about to let the thumb-suckers pick on her, when she noticed that their laughter wasn't focused on her, or even loud-mouth Berry, but on a blonde girl. There was a group of boys surrounding her, pointing and laughing while calling out to her. "Hey stupid, what's the matter? Cat got your tongue?"
The blonde frowned and shook her head, "No...my cat's at home. And my tongue's right here." She then finished her statement by sticking out her tongue, much to the amusement of the boys. One boy stepped forward and Santana decided that this was the ring leader based on the smug little smile accompanied by the wicked glint in his eyes.
"Hey Brittany..." He stepped forward, grabbed the girls hand, and forced her to slap herself. Santana narrowed her eyes and watched as several of the boys followers flickered momentarily to a frown. She doubted that any of them thought that the kid would actually hurt her with more than words. The boy it seemed was not finished as he continued, "Why're you hitting yourself, huh? 'CAUSE YOU'RE STUPID!" He finished with a quick shove that sent the unprepared girl sprawling to the ground. That, to Santana, was enough; she had seen enough in her seven years to decide that boys should never hurt girls.
"Hey! Hijo de puta, why don't you shut your mouth?" She called out, copying some of her mother's favorite words, and firmly planted her feet on the ground in case the boy decided to push her as well. She clenched her small fists to her sides and narrowed her eyes when the boy walked forward. He was bigger than her, but only by a little bit, and his dark hair curled almost as much as hers did when she was fresh out of the shower.
He scowled at her and asked, "Shouldn't you be in Mexico?"
"Shouldn't you be in kindergarden, idioto?" She spat, hating the fact he called her out on the fact she was hispanic. Between being embarresed about her accent, and not being Mexican (she was Puerto Rican for goodness sakes), she was liking this kid less and less.
The boy narrowed his eyes and glared at her before calling over his shoulder in defeat, "Come on guys, she's not worth it."
Santana watched with satisfaction as the group of boys scattered, only scowling momentarily when the ring leader got a high five from a particularly stupid looking follower. A sniffle broke Santana out of her post victory haze and turned her attention back to the blonde girl on the ground. Hesitantly she walked up to the girl before offering her hand out. When the girl simply blinked up at her, confusion written in her tear filled sky-blue eyes (not that Santana noticed the color...they were just really cool eyes okay? It's not her fault for noticing.), Santana frowned slightly. "I'm helping you up."
"I'm not s'posed to talk to strangers." The girl mumbled, wiping furiously at her damp face with the backs of her sleeves.
"But I'm a kid like you..." Santana tried to reason. When she got no response, she stuck her hand out again, just like Rachel had this morning, and said, "I'm Santana. I'm new. That's why you don't know me."
A few seconds later the blonde girl finally gave her hand to Santana, who helped pull her up. The blonde then launched herself into the small Latinas arms and whispered in her ear, "I'm Brittany. Thank you for saving me from those mean boys." She then pulled back and the smile that Santana had been pleased to notice on her face sank back down to a pout. "But you don't want to be friends with me. No one does."
Santana frowned again. "Why?"
"Because I can't think straight. My head's on wrong or something. Mommy says there's a reason but...I can't remember her words too good. And the other kids don't like that I'm weird. But that's okay, because then I make up friends, like Sprinkles. He's a unicorn. Sometimes Kurt will play with me, but his mom got hurt and since then he hasn't come to school."
Santana raised one of her eyebrows (a trick that took her weeks to figure out completely). This girl just seemed so genuinely...good. Like, she still believed the world was all sunshine and rainbows. Santana wished she could still be like that. And so, for the first time since her Papi left and her Mama got remarried to Roberto, who let her get her way a lot, but also liked to visit her room at night when he drank some of his gross drink and her mama wasn't home sometimes, Santana started to believe in the world just a little bit more. She let a shy grin take over her face as she mumbled, "I want to be your friend."
Brittany's eyes grew wide and Santana nervously sucked in the sides of her cheeks. "Like...for real?" Santana nodded her head eagerly. She watched as Brittany stuck out her pinky finger and requested, "Pinky promise?"
Now, Santana had never pinky promised anything. But, she knew what a promise was. A promise was forever. And Santana knew how much it hurt for someone to break a promise, so she decided that she would never ever break this one. "Pinky promise."
When Brittany smiled, Santana swore that the sun got a little bit brighter.