A/N:
I really tried to focus on one thing at a time. I really did but then I'm like... fuck the bullshit I don't feel like writing this, what is this even?! Then my imagination just goes akdnfamfd and I start typing out the stuff playing around in my head and… boom, done. This one definitely isn't meant to be short and light like Feel It In My Bones. I'm not one for too much angst or drama so this is as close as I'll get. Reviews are greatly appreciated.
"You've got to be kidding me." Santana groaned out, rolling her eyes as they came to a stop in front of what she assumed was to be her new high school. Her dark gaze swept over the modest building, far from impressed. Her old school had been almost triple the size. She turned to her mother, features set somewhere between aggravated and pleading. "Tell me your kidding. That this is just some stupid ploy to get me to apologize. I'm sorry, Mami. There, I said it. Can we go home now?"
The older woman remained stone faced, a hint of a frown at her full lips. A slight crease at her brows and something akin to disappointment swimming in her brown eyes. "We've discussed this, Santana. Your father and I believe this is for the best, this is home now."
Santana scoffed, her expression darkening. This wasn't home. Their beach house in California was home. One little mistake and her parents suddenly decided to move from California to Ohio. Not just Ohio but some small middle of nowhere town Santana had never even heard of. Lima, Ohio. Not only was she forced to move across the country for her little indiscretion; her parents also deigned it necessary to take away her precious motorcycle. So what if her license was currently suspended and wouldn't be reinstated for another three months. It wasn't like they couldn't bail her out again. They weren't exactly lacking in the funds department with her mother being a highly sought after lawyer and her father a heart surgeon.
"Whatever." She shoved open the car door, the twinge of pain in her shoulder reminding her that she wasn't supposed to be putting any kind of pressure on it. She winced as the pain seared its way down her arm. It wasn't even her fault. That fucking idiot just had to piss her off. She wouldn't have crashed her bike and ended up in this shit hole town if it wasn't for that bastard.
Mrs. Lopez sighed. "Your father will be here to pick you up after school."
Santana rolled her eyes at the reminder. Another awkward, silent car ride with her father was exactly what she needed. "I'm sure he's looking forward to it as much as I am."
"Santana." Her mother shot her an admonishing look. "You know this is all for your own-"
With another roll of her eyes, the dark haired teen turned away. Slamming the door and marching toward the school entrance. How in the hell was this for her own good! Like forcing her to move to a new school in a completely different state part way into the first semester was going to change anything. Santana pushed through the doors of the main office, an irritated scowl across her face. Getting her schedule from the lady at the front desk probably would have been a lot easier if she hadn't accused the woman of being a stupid cow after three unsuccessful attempts of the ingrate trying to pronounce her name. She also would have made it to third period if she hadn't spent the time in the school counselor's office with some doe eyed red head. The woman clearly had no idea what she was doing thus the entire session was spent with Santana glaring and the counselor shifting uncomfortably in her seat. When the bell rang for fourth period, the red head was quick to usher Santana out with some lame statement about how much progress they'd made.
Fourth period went by without any issues. The teacher seemed to care less about the new transfer student he'd acquired and spent the entire period facing the chalkboard. Writing mathematical equations across the board while the students practically fell asleep at their desks. She caught a few curious glances in her direction. A few leers from what she assumed were jocks, if the cliché letterman jackets were anything to go by. There were also the envious glares from a few girls decked out in cheerleading outfits. The display made her want to pull her hair out or throttle someone. It was just her luck that she ended up in a school full of idiots who were set on modeling their high school experience after an episode of One Tree Hill.
By the time lunch rolled around, Santana had figured out the moronic social structure of McKinley High School. There were the obvious 'popular' kids, which comprised of the jocks and cheerleaders. And then there were the even more obvious 'unpopular' kids, which so happened to be made up of everyone else. Simply put, it pissed her off. Yeah, she was considered 'popular' at her old school but it wasn't anything like McKinley. There weren't really any cliques, no one was forced into a specific category just because they looked a certain way or had a certain hobby. Santana knew from the judgmental looks she'd been receiving since she first stepped foot into fourth period that she would be sorted into one of the two categories before the day's end. The final verdict was made before she had the chance to have her first lunch in the school cafeteria.
A hefty scoop of what could only be a mix between baby poop and wet dog food was plopped onto her tray. Santana lifted a finely sculpted eyebrow at the goop before glaring at the wart faced lunch lady. "What the fuck is this?"
The lunch lady seemed only slightly taken aback by the teen's question. It was clear no other student had the audacity to ever speak to her in such a manner. The barely there look of shock eased back into one of stony indifference. "Mystery meat. Don't like it, don't eat it."
"C'mon, Peggy." A smooth voice coaxed from behind Santana's right shoulder. She could smell his overbearing cologne before she heard his voice and could tell the encounter would not end well. "Cut the new girl some slack."
The lunch lady's features softened. A stain of pink Santana supposed was a blush etching itself across her saggy cheeks. "I'm not falling for your charms this time around, Noah Puckerman. Mystery meat's what's on the menu and mystery meat's what everyone's getting."
"Well," He slipped into the line next to Santana, a cocky grin at his lips and a lustful leer in his eyes. The jerk hadn't even bothered to hide the fact that he was blatantly checking her out. Not when he was practically talking to her breasts. "At least I tried."
The brunette rolled her eyes at the statement, brushing past him and heading for the line up of dessert. She was deciding between green jell-O with weird looking chucks in it or chocolate pudding when Noah Puckerman stepped back into her line of sight. Either not getting her 'fuck off' vibe or stupidly choosing to ignore it. Santana would put her money on the latter.
He slid a hand through his ridiculous mohawk, hazel eyes twinkling deviously. "I could take you someplace with real food."
"I'm pretty sure I won't like what's on the menu." She grabbed the chocolate pudding, setting it on her tray as she maneuvered around the boy once again.
"My Uncle owns a bar across town, gives me as much free booze as I want." He offered with a grin, clearly not the slightest bit deterred by her blatant disinterest. "We could-"
"Look," Santana snapped, dark glare boring into clueless hazel. "I'm sure this 'I'm going to annoy you until you give in to me' bullshit works on most of the girls who've had the displeasure of holding your interest, but it isn't going to work on me. I'm not interested. Now," She made a shooing motion. "Go find a girl that's dumb enough to fall for it."
The brunette nearly made it to the cash register before the annoying mohawked boy was suddenly standing in her way once again. His sleazy grin somehow seemed brighter and Santana couldn't help feeling as though their encounter would not end well at all.
"Pretend all you like, mamacita." He stepped closer to Santana, towering almost a full foot over her, and reached for a bottle of Gatorade on the shelf behind her. He was close enough for his warm breath to brush against her face. "No girl can ever resist the Puckster."
In all fairness, she did warn the guy therefore by technicality it wasn't really all her fault he was covered in the cafeteria mystery meat. Somewhere between his comically shocked expression and the ripple of 'ooo's and 'ahh's making their way across the cafeteria her mouth, as it usually did, started moving before she could even comprehend what she was going to say. "The 'Puckster' doesn't have the right equipment to satisfy me."
To say her encounter with Noah Puckerman, the infamous bad boy and well known wannabe Casanova of McKinley High School, spread quickly around the entire school was an understatement. That shit spread like wildfire. By the end of fifth period Santana Lopez had already made a name for herself. A name she was very accustomed to hearing; crazy dyke. She should have expected as much from a shitty little school in the middle of Nowhereville. As it was, Santana had known she was gay for a very long time and was less than phased by the name-calling or dirty looks. Given, her old school had a zero tolerance policy as well as a more forward thinking student body. She was unsure McKinley had a single out gay student until she stumbled upon Kurt Hummel.
Imagine Santana's surprise when the quick witted, flamboyant boy had slipped his arm through hers the moment she entered her fifth period English class proclaiming them best gays. She could barely keep up with his excited chatter about starting a Gay Straight Alliance, who was totally in the closet, how horrible their English teacher's outfit was, and something called Glee Club. Which is possibly how Santana found herself stuffing books into her locker while her new and currently only friend, though he promised to introduce her to the entire Glee Club at the audition she'd never actually agreed to, asked her question after invasive question.
"So, I've been dying to know. Is there a special lady in your life?" He arched a well managed eyebrow, a curious twinkling in his blue eyes.
The question had Santana freezing with her English textbook midway to her locker. Her features shifted rapidly from anguished to dazed to love struck. That was an extremely loaded question that she didn't have a real answer for. There was a 'special lady' in her life. Emphasis on the was.
"Ah, I see." The twinkle in his eyes shifted to playful upon seeing the brunette's reaction. "Is the lovely lady waiting patiently in California for your return?"
"Actually," In a rare moment of bashfulness, because she was a far cry from anything related to timid, a soft flush spread across her cheeks. Santana damned her own reaction as she noticed Kurt's widening smile. "I met her in California over the summer. She said she was from around here." She resisted the urge to look away from his imploring stare and fiddle nervously with the hem of her shirt, forcing her usual confidence into her voice and improvising a shrug she meant to display nonchalance. "Maybe you know her."
Kurt couldn't help his squeal of excitement at the prospect of Santana telling him all about her summer romance and with someone he might know. It was all too juicy. "Okay, if you don't tell me everything right now I'm going to self combust from anticipation."
A soft giggle escaped Santana. Her confidence building at the look of earnest interest across his features. "I suppose I should put you out of your misery then. Her name is Brittany Pierce."
Kurt's face paled considerably, the excited look disappearing in an instant. "C-Come again?"
Santana's brows furrowed at the reaction. The boy looked as though she said she was a demon coming to rip his heart out and eat it whole. "Her name is Brittany. Brittany Pierce."
At that point Kurt seemed to be pretty close to having a panic attack. Before Santana could ask him if he was feeling okay she felt a soft tap on her shoulder accompanied by a very familiar sounding, "Hey."
The brunette turned around to find Brittany Pierce, in the flesh, standing before her. Staring at her with those breathtaking blue eyes of hers. Santana's face practically lit up the entire hallway. Stood before her was the girl of her dreams. The girl she'd spent the entire summer falling in love with. Her shining brown eyes took notice of the small group of girls flanking Brittany. She recognized that they were all wearing the school's cheerleading uniform. Her stare shifted questioningly back to Brittany whose expression was set somewhere between surprise, terror, and hesitation. She didn't get the chance to ask why, exactly, the entire Varsity cheerleading squad was standing behind Brittany and scowling at her because a very confusing thing happened. Brittany proceeded to dump a cup full of some kind of freezing liquid over her head and as the liquid began to sting her eyes, to make matters a million times worse, she could swear she heard the aforementioned girl of her freaking dreams call her a dyke.
Between the loud cackling of the evil uniformed drones who had obviously, as far as Santana's frantic mind could tell, forced Brittany to commit an extremely uncharacteristic act of cruelty and the queasy feeling in her gut she managed to wipe enough of the sting from her eyes to open them. By the time her blurry vision found Brittany, the blonde was half way down the hallway with the Cheerios in tow. All snickering and congratulating her. Leaving Santana gaping after Brittany, wondering what the fuck just happened.
Kurt steered the shell shocked brunette toward the girls restroom, grabbing a handful of paper towels and turning on the faucet. "Let's get you cleaned up."
"What… What the hell was that! People in this town toss slushies as a way of greeting?!"
"No. Not all of us, at least." Kurt offered her a sad smile, sighing in resignation before proceeding with a cautious explanation. "That was the head Cheerio publicly declaring you a freak."
"Head Cheerio?"
His cautious expression only worsened at the inquiry. "You, my friend, are in for a rude awakening. Are you sure you didn't meet some weird doppelganger that looks like Brittany and even has the same name as her but is totally out and proud and not a complete… well, bitch?"
Santana gaped at him. Never in a million years did she ever think she would hear someone refer to Brittany as a bitch. Half of her wanted to slap him for badmouthing her Brittany while the other half of her wanted to hunt the blonde down and demand an explanation. "She never told me she was a cheerleader. I didn't even know she went to this school until she fucking tossed a slushie in my face."
"Oh, boy." Kurt took a huge breath, closing his eyes as he exhaled to steady his nerves. "Brittany Pierce is the most popular girl at this school. She's at the top of the heap. Cheerleading Captain, Class President, Junior Prom Queen. She's smart and not to mention drop dead gorgeous. Also a closet lesbian according to your summer romance story. And here comes the bad." He paused for dramatic effect, steadying Santana with an apologetic look. "She's the unpopular kids' worse nightmare. One time I wore the same scarf as her and she had the entire Varsity football team take turns throwing me into the dumpster behind the cafeteria after lunch was over. It… gets worse." He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. Even though he'd only known Santana Lopez for a little over two hours, he knew the bomb he was about to drop on her would likely crush her. It was obvious the brunette was in love with Brittany Pierce. "She has a boyfriend."
It was official. Life could not get any worse for her.
Santana pushed through the front door, eyes blazing and nerves jumping. She wanted to hit something, wanted to beat it to a damned bloody pulp. It figured that the one hope she actually held on to went and made a fool of her.
"Santana?" Her mother appeared in the doorway to the living room. "Where's your father?"
Santana shrugged, only vaguely aware of her mother's eyes on her as she continued down the hall toward the basement.
"How was school?" The interest in the older woman's voice only aided in further irritating the teen. "Did you make any new friends?"
"School was just great." Santana stopped in front of the door to the basement, whirling around to face her mother with a sarcastic smile. "I absolutely loved getting slushied, the homophobic assholes at school were just fucking peachy, and I'm so thrilled that you decided to move us to this shitty little town."
Not bothering to wait for a response, Santana swung the basement door open and tore down the stairs. Throwing her backpack across the room once she'd reached the bottom. The house they moved into was essentially the same as the one they had in Malibu, the only real difference being the shell it came in. The floor plan had the same basic design meaning her father's mostly unused (by him anyway) gym was still intact. She pulled off her stained t-shirt, revealing a tight spaghetti strap tank top underneath, and powered on the stereo. Turning the music up so loud she couldn't hear herself think. The beat thrummed through her, loosened her stiff posture as she made quick work of wrapping her hands. Her first swing at the heavy bag was all rage. Horribly executed. The impact sent a tingle up her arm. She followed with another swing and another and another and another. Ignoring the protesting ache of her shoulder. The songs changed, her punches weakening, a thin coat of sweat forming against her skin, the sting of pain at her shoulder worsening, and her rampant emotions deadening.
Santana continued on, taking her frustration out on the heavy bag and drowning her thoughts in the blaring music, until someone turned the stereo off. She took one last exasperated swing at the heavy bag before spinning around. Prepared to see her mother's stern expression and endure the following lecture. A deep scowl overtook her when she found Brittany standing next to the stereo, blue eyes pleading and a tentative smile at her lips.
It took less than a millisecond for Santana to get past the initial shock. "Get out."
"Santana let me explain. I didn't-"
"Explain?" Santana's fists clenched at her sides, her shoulders tensing. "You made it pretty clear earlier today." The words were a low, bitter snarl. "Don't worry, your summer secret is safe with me."
"You know that isn't-"
"I don't care. Just," Santana turned away from Brittany. She couldn't take that fucking look, the one that was practically begging for her forgiveness. The wonderful, amazing, life altering girl she'd met over the summer wasn't the same girl currently standing in her basement. "Leave me alone."
Brittany stared dejectedly at Santana's back. Never in a million years did she ever think she would see Santana again. She'd panicked at school. When she heard Santana talking to Kurt about her, when the brunette finally turned around to face her. Brittany had almost forgotten herself, had almost forgotten the stupid slushie in her hand. When Santana had smiled so openly at her, those brown eyes sparkling even in the crappy hallway lighting, Brittany had nearly forgotten what it was she was meant to do. She would give anything to go back to that moment. To toss the slushie on the ground, swoop Santana up in her arms, and kiss her until she couldn't feel her lips anymore.
The blonde turned toward the stairs, shoulders slumped. It was stupid of her to think Santana would want to have anything to do with her. It wasn't like she'd been completely honest with her during their time together. It wasn't like Brittany had made even the slightest effort to keep in touch with the brunette after her plane ride back to Ohio.
"Brittany?"
The girl in question froze halfway up the stairs. Her heart thumping and her hopes soaring. Maybe all wasn't lost. Maybe she could still fix things with Santana. "Yes?"
"Pull any of that shit again and I will end you."