Author's Note. This song is stuck in my head currently. I had an idea for a fic where there was another girl in Santana's life so here it is! Rated M for future chapters. It starts in the present and will go to the past to shed light on the situation and how it came to be. I've been working on this one for a while! Please review! I'm a new writer so any feedback is truly appreciated!
The door. Neither of them could take their eyes off of it.
The sound of it slamming reverberated in their ears.
The echoes of Brittany's accusations hung in the air.
They sit in a hesitant silence, neither daring to speak before the other, as they try their best to process the events that had unfolded only moments before.
Finally Santana speaks.
"Umm, Aimi…I think you should go," she states heavily. The woman beside Santana, startled by the break in the silence, turns to stare at her intensely with a hint of longing in her eyes. She remains motionless hoping that her silent protest would be enough to sway the Latina's decision.
Santana looks over at the woman watching her so fixedly, and immediately wishes she hadn't.
She sighs, "Aimilee. Please."
Aimilee holds tightly onto Santana's gaze and bites her bottom lip, as she debates her next move. Never looking away until she finally begins to gather her things.
She reaches the door and pauses. "I'll call you tomorrow?" she offers as more of a question than a statement.
Not wanting to commit to this, Santana raises her eyebrows and hums out a short "Mmm."
Aimilee, unsure of what that means but not wanting to argue, exits the apartment without another word leaving Santana alone with her thoughts.
She was in shock. Santana had never heard her girlfriend speak that way and had never seen her so angry. All she could think was how she hoped Brittany would come to her senses and apologize for overreacting as she usually did.
Yes.
She would come back, they would kiss, and everything would be normal again.
As much as Santana wished she could will this into reality, the hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach told her that after 5 years, this time was different.
"Britts, I don't want to go to this without you! It's gonna be terrible. I don't understand why my dad's making me go. I'm 13. I'll be 18, like…tomorrow. I should be able to decide. Besides, he only wants me there so he can pimp me out to one of his stupid co-worker's sons. Hmph." The latina whined into the phone as her best friend, forever the optimist, tried her hardest to convince her that she would have fun.
"Oh, don't be that way San. I'm sure you'll make loads of friends there. Everyone always likes you," Brittany chirped fully convinced of the certainty of her words.
It was only making Santana more upset. She had never been good at making friends. Brittany had literally fallen into her lap during a game of musical chairs when they were 6. She 'd met those striking blue eyes and smiled for the first time since starting school. That was enough for Brittany, who quickly smiled back, linked their pinkies, and never let go.
"No, B. Everyone is afraid of me," Santana corrected before she continued. "They're only nice to me because they're scared."
Brittany was silent for a moment and Santana could almost hear the gears turning in her head as she struggled to find the right words.
She could imagine Brittany sitting in her window sill, an adorable crease wrinkling her brow as she chewed nervously on the antenna of her cell phone; a habit she'd developed after she and Santana had both gotten Bluetooth headsets for Christmas.
Santana smiled at the thought.
"Umm…maybe you could try being nice to someone other than me? If you let them see how wonderful you really are San, they won't stand a chance!"
Brittany hesitated on the first part, unsure of how Santana would respond, but finished with so much sincerity that Santana flushed bright red, not that ethnic people do that. (;)
When she didn't respond Brittany spoke again, her voice laced with sadness.
"I'm sorry, San. I have to go to jazz now, but I'll come over after the party okay? Please try to have fun. For me? I just know you'll meet someone special today! I can feel it!"
She could tell Brittany really believed it, so Santana promised to keep an open mind.
"I swear Pierce, you're nothing but sunshine and rainbows, aren't you?" Santana teased.
Brittany giggled and Santana's stomach fluttered at the sound.
"Uh huh, and unicorns. You forgot unicorns. I love them." Brittany inserted matter-of-factly.
It was Santana's turn to giggle now at her best friend's innocence. "I love you, B," she said warmly.
"I love you, infinity San. Bye," Brittany replied brightly. She had taken to adding infinity to the statement because she thought "2" was "too small a number to love somebody."
"Only Britt…" Santana thought as she grabbed her purse and trudged down the stairs where she found her father already in the car. He scolded her for taking so long and declared that she was going to be late.
During the drive, her father was rambling on about how this party was so important because he wanted to open a new practice with this doctor and building friendships on all levels was the key. Yeah, friendships. He might as well have put her in a wedding dress and offered a dowry for all the subtlety he was employing. She understood that it was the kid's birthday, but he wasn't getting any special presents from her. Not today anyway.
Santana nodded occasionally, feigning attentiveness but turned to stare out the window completely when he mentioned school dances.
Her father was getting annoyed at her obvious lack of interest in the conversation, but Santana didn't care. The nerves from earlier had returned and she wanted to crawl into a hole.
After what seemed like an eternity, her father pulled up to the curb in front a house with balloons hung all around. He shooed her out of the car and agreed, after a few minutes negotiation, to come back for her in EXACTLY 1 hour. Santana took a deep calming breath, and slowly made her way around the side of the house.
She had arrived later than everyone else and was assessing the situation when she saw a girl with straight, chestnut hair sitting in front of the refreshment table over by the big bouncy house. She looked completely miserable.
She quickly scanned the party for any other stragglers coming in, but everyone was there and everyone had paired up except for her and this miserable girl.
This was a new feeling for Santana. Being alone.
She had always had Brittany with her, but today dance class had claimed her. So there she stood, very much alone and very much aware of how badly she needed a friend no matter whom that friend may be.
She returned her attention to the girl across the lawn. Santana approached her confidently, easily slipping into her HBIC persona and strutting over, her long curly hair bouncing with each step.
"I'm Santana Lopez. What's your name?" Santana says nicely enough, but with a definite tinge of superiority, as though the girl should be honored that she even bothered.
The girl looks up from the cell phone in her lap with an unreadable expression, but shrinks back a millimeter when she sees the attitude written on Santana's face. Her sparkling green eyes narrow as they catch the young Latina's brown ones and Santana is speechless. They stayed like this for a few seconds, just staring in a heavy silence. The girl searched Santana's eyes a moment longer, rolled hers, and looked away without a word.
Santana wanted to walk away and try to join another group conceding that this girl apparently didn't know who she was dealing with, but she was fixed in her spot by an unknown force as she waited for the girl to acknowledge her presence.
After a few moments, Santana was still standing awkwardly in front of the girl, arms folded, and still wearing the same expression as before, intensified by the girl's obvious rudeness. Just as Santana was about to walk away, she finally speaks, and Santana had never heard a more glorious sound. The girl's voice was smooth, raspy, and dripping with annoyance.
"Ugh, you're not going to leave me here are you?" she said, twisting her hand around and examining her fingernails as she spoke.
Santana was reeling from hearing the girl speak for the first time and as she tried to formulate words in her mind, the girl found her eyes again and Santana instinctively softened her expression. This girl had the second most beautiful eyes she'd ever seen and she could feel herself slowly getting lost in them. The girl tilted her head and snapped her fingers in front of Santana's face.
"Hel-loooooo. Is anybody home in there," the girl said, a confused look crossing her features.
Santana lightly pinched the skin at the inner curve of her arm, willing herself to focus. She was losing her cool. As she was about to revert back to her bitchy demeanor, she thought of her promise to Brittany.
She sighed softly, and did her best to remain confident. But Santana was all too aware of the girl staring steadily at her, and this had reduced her to a mumbling fool.
"Oh, sorry!" she said feeling suddenly flushed as she fidgeted under the intensity of her counterpart's gaze.
Desperate to change the subject and also to divert the girls piercing eyes, Santana looks to her left and finds her savior.
"Umm, don't you think it's weird that a 13 year old boy has a bouncy house at his birthday party?" she asked, trying to strike up a conversation with the girl. She was never good at small talk. In fact, she hated it.
Yet there she was, prattling away like a mindless idiot.
"I mean, I know he's totally spoiled but if I could have anything I wanted, this would certainly not be what I asked for," Santana affirmed laughing nervously and suddenly feeling the urge to take a lock of her hair into her mouth and blow it out again. It was one of her more…unique nervous habits that never failed to earn her judgmental looks from those who witnessed the action.
"Umm, are you always this talkative?" the girl finally interjected halfway through Santana's tirade on the evils of the birthday boy's sweater vest.
Stunned into silence by her bluntness, Santana swallows and then begins "No. I'm so sorry-"
"Aimilee," the girl finally reveals. "My name is Aimilee. It's like Emily, with an "A," she explained, allowing a grin to cross her pink lips as she spoke. "Aimilee Donahue."
Santana flashed a shy smile and continued her sentence.
"I usually don't talk so much. It's just been a while since I talked to anyone who wasn't instantly petrified of me," the latina admitted honestly. "I'm a little out of practice."
At this, Aimilee lost her composure and her breathy laughter escaped filling the air around them.
"Seriously? You seem so innocent! Who would be scared of you?" Aimilee asked, slowly winding down from her fit of amusement. She blinked at Santana, waiting for her response.
Santana stood for a moment sorting through her thoughts. She didn't know what had shocked her more; that she was actually letting this girl talk to her this way or the fact that she thought Santana was innocent!
Regaining some of her confidence, Santana shot back "Oh, trust me. I am anything but innocent."
She tried to assert herself with as much conviction as she could muster, but there was still an almost imperceptible waver in her voice as she spoke. Judging from the way the brunette was eyeing her, she had noticed it.
Aimilee settled back into her chair and hummed out an exaggerated "Mmmmmm…" and bit down on her bottom lip.
She looked up at Santana through her eyelashes. "…maybe not," she said, licking her lips, "but I doubt you're on my level."
Santana tried to come up with a witty reply, but she was distracted by the tingling heat suddenly rushing over her body.
"I think I'm on your level," she managed, thankful that her voice had stayed even.
Sitting up straighter, Aimilee quirked an eyebrow at the curly haired girl in front of her, "You do?" she deadpanned, her voice oozing with skepticism and intrigue.
Santana felt a familiar tug beneath her stomach that, up until this then, had been reserved for the moments after she and Brittany went swimming in her pool.
They would hurry up to her room, sprouting goose bumps as they ran dripping and shivering through the air conditioned house. When they reached Santana's room, Brittany would drop her wet towel on the floor and sprint to the warm relief of the shower. Santana's stomach would flip as soon as she heard the stream of water lessening in intensity until it stopped. Five seconds would pass before she heard the familiar voice calling out to her.
"San, you forgot to bring me the dry towel again." Brittany would sing out, just as she did every Saturday.
Santana had not forgotten the towel. She had fetched if from her parent's bathroom as soon as Brittany got into the shower. She'd been pretending to "forget" the towel ever since the first time Brittany had asked her to bring it to her.
That first day, Santana had handed Brittany the towel around the shower curtain and was shocked when she yanked the curtains back a few seconds later.
Brittany had stepped out of the shower with the towel on her head instead of wrapped chastely around her torso. Santana had been mesmerized but she managed to choke out, "Brittany. Why is the towel on your head and not on you?" she had demanded as she struggled to keep her gaze in a neutral zone.
Brittany being Brittany had just smiled and said, "That's easy, San. If I dried me off before I dried my hair, I'd just get all wet down there."
She gestured to the area from her neck down, although her choice of words had done nothing to help the Latina's situation.
"My hair's at the top so I dry it first. Everyone always says to start at the top."Brittany concluded.
This particular brand of "Brittany logic" was one of the main reasons why Santana loved her best friend so much. This did nothing; however, to distract her from the pressure that was building in her hips as Brittany shamelessly ruffled the towel through her hair.
Santana understood what those feelings, that pressure, meant, but she reasoned that Brittany could hardly know the effect she was having on her best friend.
This girl Aimilee, on the other hand, knew exactly what she was doing to Santana. She could see it in her emerald eyes as they roved over Santana's body and in the sly smirk she was currently sporting as she studied Santana's reaction.
The evident aura of triumph emanating from Aimilee as she waited for a reply flipped a switch inside Santana. She wasn't sure where it came from, but Santana felt unexpectedly certain of what her next move should be.
She walked forward and took the seat next to Aimilee, surprised that she had remained standing for so long. She relaxed into her chair as a low chuckle rang out in her throat. Aimilee's breathing increased slightly, due to the close proximity. Santana, drunk off of the electricity pulsing between them, leaned a little closer.
"I don't think I'm on your level…" she purred still inching forward as she spoke.
"I know," Santana whispered and was pleased to hear Aimilee's breath catch when she did. At this point, Aimilee turned to face her and they locked eyes.
Santana continued to move closer to the brunette, never breaking the eye contact. She had blocked out all sounds of the party and could now only hear the 2 hearts beating intensely between them. She felt that flush of heat washing over her again and she was so close now that their breath had begun to mingle together.
Santana was centimeters from them when she finally broke the gaze to glance at her partner's lips. They were slightly parted, and Aimilee's breaths were coming in short gasps. Santana was beginning to doubt whether or not she had the strength to execute the plan she had formulated minutes before.
Remembering that there were probably people watching, Santana refocused her mindset on her original task. She closed the space between them tilting her head slightly as she went. A hair's width separated their lips when Santana swerved to the left at the last minute to reach behind Aimilee.
She grabbed a cookie off the table and took a satisfying bite as she watched the brunette attempt to even out her breathing. Her face was visibly flushed, and Santana smiled when she saw the girl inconspicuously cross her legs.
"Wow. I think I underestimated you Ms. Lopez," Aimilee remarked running a hand through her tousled hair, her face now sporting an attractive pink glow.
Feeling flirty and still buzzing from earlier, Santana replied, "Don't worry. I forgive you, but you'll have to make it up to me somehow."
Sensing the turn the conversation was taking, Aimilee was quick to respond "Oh, well then. Aimilee Donahue is at your service," finishing it off with a seductive wink.
Just as Santana was about to continue their banter, she heard a familiar voice and quickly remembered where she was and what she was supposed be doing.
"Santana, how did you and Brian get along?" her father asked not bothering to mask his eagerness. She stood and shot Aimilee an apologetic glance.
Suddenly very interested in the grass, she replied "Ermm, he was great. I was just telling my new friend how MUCH I liked his sweater vest." At that she spared a discrete wink to Aimilee.
Catching on immediately, Aimilee dove into an exaggeratedly detailed account of how much fun Santana and Brian had had.
"Yeah, he's a great guy. A little handsy if you ask me, but most boys are at this age," she ended.
Shock and awe crossed Santana's face as her father went ashen, as he attempted to all but drag Santana out of the backyard. She promised her father she would meet him at the car in five minutes and returned her attention to Aimilee.
"Thanks so much for your help. I completely forgot I was here on "serious family business" Santana said, doing a passable impression of her father.
"No problem. I'm just bummed my entertainment is leaving me so soon," Aimilee said sighing.
Santana thought for a moment, as she looked into the girl's green eyes full of so much life.
"Hey well if it's alright with your mom, you could come to my house for dinner," she blurted out.
"But only if you want," she added self consciously after a beat of silence.
"Where do you live?" Aimilee asked, pulling out her phone. Santana told her, and the brunette began texting furiously. After a minute, her phone buzzed and a dazzling smile spread across her face.
"My mom says its fine. You only live a few blocks from us anyways," she said trying to hide her enthusiasm.
"Okay great, Aimilee!" Santana squeaked and began to move towards the exit gate. She stopped when she felt impossibly soft hands close around her wrist.
"Aimi. Call me Aimi," she said blushing as she squeezed Santana's wrist before releasing it.
Santana nodded and they walked in a comfortable silence out to her dad, who was again waiting impatiently in the car.
She explained what was going on, but she had known her father wouldn't care anyway. He would drop her off and run back to the practice until father did reconsider Santana's involvement with Brian, and the two teens giggled in the backseat as he spoke mostly to himself. He was mumbling about how, if he had his way, Santana would never speak to Brian or any boys again.
As she glanced over at the girl sitting next to her, Santana had a feeling that wouldn't be a problem.
