AN: Just another one-shot, I may continue it depending if I have time, but I have a habit of not finishing things, so it depends on the response.
Summary: Santana sits in the coffee house everyday watching the blonde girl writing in the seat by the window.
Disclaimer: I don't own glee or anything recognisable in this story.
COFFEE
She sipped slowly at her coffee, glancing at the newspaper in her left hand. Her blonde hair fell down across her vision and she tucked it behind her ear before turning the page. I leant back into the comfy chair, crossing my arms and removing my focus from the beautiful blonde in the seat by the window, trying to stop anyone from thinking that I was a creep like the guy in the corner who always ordered a Large Espresso Macchiato at 9:34, every day.
Okay, so I am slightly creepy, I know almost everything about the regulars here at the Lima Bean's coffee habits. Repeatedly-leaves-no-tip-guy always orders a Medium Café Miel and he never comes on Tuesdays. Cute-ginger-but-has-boyfriend orders a Raspberry Mocha with a shortbread biscuit and her boyfriend picks her up on Wednesdays and Sundays and she never comes on Saturdays. And then there is Adorable-blonde-journalist who comes here every day and orders a Gingerbread Latte or a Cinnamon Dolce Latte, she often just writes when she comes in her small bright-yellow notebook.
The door to the Lima Bean opened and a familiar hobbit-sized boy with dark, curly hair and strangely triangular eyebrows, walked through. He approached my small table, pulling out the other seat for himself, before changing his mind and dropping his satchel on the table by my Skinny Latte. He reached into his pocket to check if he had any small cash but found his search unsuccessful.
"I'm just going to get some coffee, save my seat?" Taking his wallet out his bag, he turned away to wait in the short queue, not waiting for my answer.
"Yeah sure, I'll just give it to the next stranger who walks by." I said anyway. Blaine just ignored me.
I glanced over at the table where the adorable-blonde-journalist sat; she was sipping at her Latte, reading back over at her writing. Her fingers flicked through the thin pages, her eyes following the words on the page.
The short figure returns behind me with a cup and plate, and he tapped my shoulder before he sitting down in the squishy seat.
"Here," Blaine pushed the small plate with the biscotti towards me, "Have half." He picked it up and then broke it in half, biting into his piece. "So who have you been, for use of no better word, staring at this morning?" I smiled pityingly at him and sipped my latte.
"That was a badly hidden hint, but no- he hasn't been here yet today." Blaine's hazel eyes lit up with the knowledge that he hadn't missed boy-who-Blaine-likes. "I've just been watching adorable-blonde-journalist over there by the window." I gesture with my head at the table where she is now writing in her notepad.
"I see you've changed your name for her, I seem to remember you calling her cute-writer-girl yesterday. Wait no…" He scratched his head in fake thought, "…that was Thursday, and yesterday it was I-think-she's-a-dancer-girl." I glared at him and he chuckles, picking at the crumbs on his plate. The biscotti remains untouched on mine. "You and your names..." He mutters under his breath, I lightly hit him on shoulder.
"I just like to keep track of the people I see around, and you can't talk, you have been almost stalking that poor boy for the last week. I bet he thinks you're some kind of creep." As I said that, said boy comes through the door, dragged along by a short brunette girl with a giant nose, and plonked down on the seat opposite 'adorable-blonde-journalist'.
"You should go ask their names," his voice startles me as we had been quiet for a few seconds watching the group converse. "So that you have a name for them, a real name, not the ones you make up."
"Hey, you just want me to find out that boy's name so you don't have to, don't you?" He shrugs shamelessly.
"Maybe, but it would help, I know that it must really slow down your thoughts largely with all those long names, and it would ruin the moment in any dream, by calling her adorable-blonde-journalist out loud."
"Hey! I do not!" I slapped him again on the arm and he rubbed the emerging red spot.
"That hurts you know." He complained.
"Wimp" I muttered under my breath, just loud enough for him to hear, but he ignored it.
"Well, I'm just saying, it would be useful." I nodded as if I was bored and started my biscotti. Not meaning to go over to the table. Well maybe later, when Blaine is gone, and he wouldn't know that I think he is right. I can't hear them talking now and I glance over, they are just sitting in silence. Short-loud-brunette is sipping at her espresso and gazing around the small café, the boy-that-Blaine-likes is leaning back into the chair, reading a book and the adorable-blonde-journalist is still writing furiously in her notebook.
Blaine placed his empty coffee cup on the table and stood up slowly, picking up his bag.
"That was quick." I said, Blaine had only been here for a few minutes. I checked my watch, and I was right- only five minutes had passed since he came.
"School work to do, so as much as I would like to stay, I'm going to go." His eyes strayed to the table by the window, "But if you do go and ask for her name, find out his name too, please." Blaine clasped his hands together and tilted his head to the side like an adorable puppy with big brown eyes, "Please?" I laughed and he stood straight again. "What?" He asked defensibly.
"I just..." I sighed, still laughing inside at his pout "…Okay, I might… but, I'm not promising anything." He just sighed, defeated and guessing that that was the best he would get and turned out the door.
I looked back into my pearly coffee, and swirled it round the cup. My right hand tapping out a simple rhythm on the wooden table. I should probably go to but before I have the time to get up a shadow falls onto the table over my left shoulder. I looked up slowly, to see a brunette girl with a giant smile on her face and her friend pulled behind her. It was the short-loud-brunette with the boy-that-Blaine-likes. Well Blaine's wish has come true.
"Hi, my name is Rachel Berry, future star," she beamed and opened her gigantic mouth again, "My friend Kurt here, was wondering what your friend's name is." I just gaped and blinked stupidly. The adorable-blonde-journalist was still sitting at the table, but she was watching me fail at communicating with her friends with a tiny smile on her lips and her notebook in her hand. That just ruined my chances of impressing her. "Are you okay?" Rachel's voice brought my mind back to the table.
"Yeah, I'm fine…" I muttered. Kurt, who was still behind her, tried to inch away but Rachel grabbed his wrist again, not even glancing behind. "Umm...Santana." She looks confused. "I'm Santana, my friend's name is Blaine. That all? Or do you want to know our whole life stories?" My attitude changed automatically to my HBIC* attitude, I don't want some strangers thinking I'm weak. I look behind Rachel again and Kurt looks interested in the new information. "I'll try and set you two up on a date; I know you're interested in him." He pushes Rachel lightly to the side and steps up to my seat.
"Thanks, but if I could just get his phone number?" I finished my coffee and placed the empty cup on the table, pretending to consider it but then shaking my head. "Nothing else?" he added trying to persuade me.
"BreadstiX, eight o'clock, tomorrow night, he'll be there." I can't actually remember Blaine's phone number- I just hope he's free tomorrow. However, Blaine would probably cancel anything; he's been pining over the 'mysterious boy in the corner of the coffee shop' all month, since they first bumped shoulders in the queue, literally. I start to turn away and back to my thoughts, hoping that Rachel would go.
"Wait!" No such luck, her voice pierced my ears and I turned again, slowly and as if the air was forcing my body to, my displeasure shown on my face clearly.
"What Rebecca?" My voice had started to get an irritated tone to it, okay, maybe more than that.
"It's Rachel actually…but, you go to McKinley, right?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Well, we've being transferred from Westerville High School, this semester and we were wondering if you were able to help us?" She smiled slightly, but it faded as I glared at her.
"All you need to know is- stay out of my way." I picked up my bag and strode out the door, only looking back out the corner of my eye to see what the adorable-blonde-journalist was doing. She was still watching with her sky-colored eyes, but now she was also scribbling something down in her notebook.
Bright light entered my eyes and I had to blink a few times to let my eyes adjust to the change in light from the dark and cosy coffee shop. The pedestrian area was quite empty for noon on a Sunday, so I jogged down the paving stones to the road and went around the corner, making my way home.
The crowd of bodies parted as I walked down the corridor, heading for my locker. Blaine was at his, a few down from mine, shuffling through his school books.
"Hey, what's up?" I asked, my locker squeaking as it opened. He glanced up to acknowledge me and went back to searching through his locker. "What're you looking for?" He just shakes his head of gel. "Well, you might be happier when you hear about tonight…there is a certain person who has a date with a certain boy at BreadstiX, at eight." He looked up, startled.
"What? When did this happen? I thought you were still crushing after" he made quotation marks with his hands, "-'adorable-blonde-journalist'. But then, I should have known, it is you…" He trailed off as I placed a hand over his mouth for a second.
"It's you dumbo."
"Huh." He replies completely un-dapperly, "Who is this boy and why've you set me up with him? I didn't agree to this…" I once more placed a hand over his mouth.
"It's Kurt, and by Kurt I mean the boy from the coffee shop who you've been drooling over for the last month." Blaine's mouth was now an 'o'. "Yeah, so meet him at BreadstiX, at eight o'clock tonight." He nodded and shut his locker, all the new thoughts of actually meeting this boy filling his head. "Weren't you looking for something?" I picked out my books for the day and walked off to my next class, leaving Blaine stunned.
The day class passed slowly, but eventually I was back by my locker, reaffixing my photos on the door. As I adjusted my photo of the Cheerios win at Nationals last year, a blonde figure wearing a cheerleading uniform opened the locker next to me and started to collect her books for the second half of the day. It took me a while to recognise the bright eyes and thin stature of the adorable-blonde-journalist from the coffee shop. She was here in McKinley. I averted my eyes and tried to ignore her standing there.
"Hey," Oh shit…busted… "You're the girl from the Lima Bean who always sits with the boy who Kurt likes." I look up as if I had just noticed her there and I didn't know who she was. "Brittany S. Pierce." She extended a hand, I didn't take it.
"Santana Lopez." I folded my arms and looked her up and down, still pretending to have only just seen her and I was taking my first opinion. "Since when has Coach allowed new members, without my knowledge?"
"I was in the cheerleaders at my previous school, Westerville High School?" The Infernos- Westerville's cheerleading team- were some of our best competition, we still thrashed them, but they had some good members.
"Yeah, I know them. But that still doesn't explain why, Coach doesn't usually let new Cheerios in just because of that." She shrugged and walked away with her books, before stopping and turning back.
"Do you know where Biology is?" Biology is my next lesson, so I agreed, eventually, to take her there.
I shuffled in my seat and opened my pencil case to get out a pen, when a hand tapped lightly on my shoulder. The cute blonde again.
"Hi, can I sit here?" Brittany gestured to the seat next to me. I nodded; Artie wasn't here yet so he can go find another seat. She would probably be a better person to work with than him anyway. He never lets me do any work (not that that bothers me, but he also tells the teacher that I don't do anything-hypocrite- so Ms Thorn fails me. If I get another 'F' then dad will flip). I think he thinks I'm an idiot just because I am a cheerleader.
"No-one would let me sit anywhere, so I thought I would sit with a friendly face." My eyebrows lifted when she said 'friendly face', I think she is the only person who has ever called me friendly without being sarcastic or joking. Brittany pouted and sat next to me and then started unpacking her books.
Ms. Thorn opened the door quietly and walked to her desk, her black heels clicking on the cheap floor of the classroom. She held up a hand in a feeble attempt to quiet us, but the class just chattered.
"Quiet!" The talking stumbled to a slow halt as the students realised that class had, unfortunately, begun. "Okay we have a new student this semester, Brittany Pierce, please stand up." I looked to Brittany, expecting her to stand up, but she was just looking around as the rest of the class was, not thinking that it was herself. I poked her in the rib to get her attention and she twisted towards me. I gestured for her to get up and she slowly stood up, smoothing down her red skirt and glancing around cautiously. Brittany sat down hastily and I could see a small amount of nervousness in her large eyes.
"You will be working with the person beside you today and for the rest of this project. Typical of Ms. Thorn to do this, but this might let me get to know Brittany a bit better...
*Head Bitch in Charge
AN: I hope you like it, life has been quite busy at the moment, so I haven't been updating, sorry, but please let, me know what you think. It will only take a small amount of your day but it will make my day. Depending on what people think I may continue this and the first reviewer may get a one-shot written for them if they want, so please tell me what you want me to write next!