I've been fascinated with Santana Lopez for the longest time, and after reading a couple great fics about her, I thought I'd try my own. It will be 4 chapters (following her years at McKinley High) and an epilogue. I'd love to hear what you think, so please review!!

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters or plot lines created my Ryan Murphy and co. I just write about them.

The first time she put on the uniform, she could barely breathe. It was impossibly tight, but that wasn't even half of it. Looking at herself in the mirror, she let out a small gasp. It was only a few weeks into Freshman year, she was way too skinny and flat-chested to be pretty. Her frizzy hair, un-styled, lay messily on her shoulders. But the uniform, it was perfect.

Her mother walked into her room, where the walls were covers with posters of Britney Spears and cute animals.

"Honey, that skirt is quite short. Are you sure you got the right size."

Santana, put her hands on her hips, not even turning away from the mirror. "Mom, it's supposed to be like this!" she said pointedly, before glancing down a little worriedly at her knees. They were a little knobbly.

"Are you sure it's appropriate for school?"

Turning around this time, she looked at her like she was crazy. "It's the uniform, it's compulsory."

This look was not practiced, but it would soon become habit. It was a mixture of disbelief and belittlement, and came with a pout and a raised eyebrow. Her brother always let a mock gasp of terror whenever she gave him the look.

"Besides," she added with a smirk, "It's not like I'm going to be the only one."

This alone, was a miracle. Lima, Ohio, is not exactly known for its bustling Latin American population. Though she wasn't, by far, the only one, she always felt her warm skin stood out like a sore thumb in school. Now, at least, she would have the uniform. Now, at least, she could look the others.

"Alright..." her mother said doubtfully, "It does look nice on you," she said by way of reassurance and left the room.

Getting into the Cheerios was a big deal, mostly because 5 years ago her older sister had auditioned and hadn't gotten in. This was the first time she had ever beaten her sister. Her tall, gorgeous, smart, going-places sister. In fact, her going-to-New-York-for-college sister.

She was stuck in Lima for another four years at least. A fact she regularly reiterated to her diary. It was pink and sparkly and she got rid of it soon after starting sophomore year.

She first met Brittany at the Cheerios tryouts, but she was too nervous to be nice. She stayed in the corner and stretched until it hurt. Brittany was the girl who asked for directions to the tryouts, while standing next to a poster that read 'Freshman Cheerios Tryouts'.

The next day, she and Brittany stood next to each other as they read the list anxiously. Brittany hugged her when she realised that they both made it.

"This is even better than that time I got lost in the mall and they gave me a free ice cream," she said excitedly.

Santana smiled at her, and asked if she wanted to hang out after practice that day.

That was the beginning really, that was when Brittany became her first high school friend. And many days, her only friend. As she'd later learn; having a lot of people in your contact list, doesn't mean that you can call all of them.

The first time she was a bitch, it was to the girl in front of her in the lunch line. She reached in front grabbing the last fruit salad on the tray.

"Excuse me!" the girl turned around. She had awkwardly cut brown hair. And was wearing a plaid skirt and argyle vest. Really, she was asking for it.

"What? You want more food. You've already got a plate full of crap. You keep this up, you'll never fit into a prom dress."

The girl made a face, something between disgust and puppy dog eyes but turned around silently.

"I don't get it, why are we being mean?"Brittany whispered into her ear.

"I got the fruit salad, didn't I?" she smiled triumphantly. Two metres later she gave the salad to Brittany, because she hated fruit salad; the syrup tasted funny to her.

Freshman year was a year of new beginnings, she decided. A year of reinvention. By Thanksgiving she knew what was cool and what wasn't. She knew who she was and who she should be.