"Words That Cut Like Knives"
-A Glee Fan Fiction Tale-
Chapter One: Throwing Punches
Warning: Course language, talk of sex. Not too bad, but just putting it out there.
Quinn Fabray takes one last look at her reflected image in the bathroom mirror before walking out into the hall. The new head cheerleader, appointed by Sue Sylvester, walks confidently down the school corridor with her hands resting on her hips. She knows that the other students will part like the Red Sea when she comes near them, and she likes that feeling. As everyone looks at her, Quinn feels like she is on top of the world once again. After she got pregnant, students who formerly cowered before her glare rose up against her, sending slushies flying towards her face.
But that will never happen again, Quinn thinks to herself.
Suddenly, Quinn is forcefully pushed into a set of lockers. As she turns around to take a look at her assaulter, it is none other than Santana Lopez, former head cheerleader. Quinn takes the offensive and pushes the Latina back.
"You did this to me!" Santana shouts angrily, pointing at the blonde. "You told Coach Sylvester about my summer surgery!" Students are gathered all around them now, looking to see the cat fight of the year. It was only the first day of school, and Santana was already picking fights?
All right then, Santana, you want to push me around? You've messed with the wrong girl, Quinn thinks.
"You have a summer surgery when you get your appendix out. You got a boob job!" Quinn yells back, making sure everyone around them heard.
"Yup," Santana says, nodding her head. "Sure did." And then she brings her open hand around, slapping Quinn in the face. Quinn is shocked, holding a hand to her stinging cheek.
"You can't hit me!" Quinn screeches, and retreats a step or two away from the angry Latina.
Santana moves closer to the head cheerleader, her dark ponytail swinging behind her head. "Sure I can, unless you got yourself knocked up again," Santana shouts.
"Slut." She adds, letting the word carefully roll off her tongue. Quinn can't take this verbal abuse anymore, her vision is tinted red, and so she grabs the Latina by the shoulders and throws her into the locker. She can hear Brittany say something about violence behind her, but neither of the Cheerios cares. Quinn pulls at Santana's curly ponytail and locks her arm around the girl's head. Before she knows what hit her, Santana escapes Quinn's hold and with a grunt pushes her to the ground. The blonde quickly gets up, running and pushing Santana into the lockers again, holding her against the cold metal with strong arms. Santana tries to get out of Quinn's steel vise, but she can't.
Now I have her. What should I say? What would really ruin her? Quinn thinks, and suddenly she finds her poison.
"Where are you going, Lopez? Running back to Brittany, or should I say, your fuck buddy?" Quinn says sweetly, but Santana can hear the vicious undertone. Santana stops thrashing around. Her chest felt tight, and Santana swore she felt her heart beat out of her chest.
Not good, not good, she thought.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Santana says, no emotion on her face. When Quinn relaxes her grip for just a moment, Santana quickly escapes, dashing to the other side of the hall.
"Oh come on Santana, everyone knows. Everyone knows you're a dyke. You're a dyke, and you sleep around to act like…" Before Quinn can finish, Santana pushes her to the ground. Quinn hits her head on the trashcan on her way down, knocking it over and spilling its unwanted contents.
"Girls, stop it! What's going on here?" Mr. Shue runs down the hall, pushing kids to the side along the way in order to reach the sparring Cheerios.
"Don't you ever call me that! I am not a lesbian, you slut!" Santana screeches, and lunges at Quinn. Mr. Shue, however, catches Santana and holds her back.
"I am not a slut, you lesbian!" Quinn yells back, and Santana fights against Mr. Shue to get at the blonde cheerleader. The school bell rings out shrilly, the thin noise echoing down the hall. All the students quickly disperse, including Quinn.
"Don't forget to fix your pony before you get to class! And tell your whale boyfriend that I stopped the Japanese poachers from hunting him for his blubber!" Santana shouts to the blonde, but Quinn just keeps on walking. All who remain are Santana, Brittany, and Mr. Shue. Mr. Shue is still holding on to Santana, shocked by the words exchanged between the girls.
"Brittany, go to class. You have a test today," Santana says quietly, shooing Brittany away.
"I don't know where I should go."
"Math class," Santana reminds her, and Brittany nods before skipping away. When the childish Cheerio is out of sight, Santana drops to the ground, sobbing. Mr. Shue releases her, knowing she won't go after Quinn.
"Santana, what's wrong?" Mr. Shue asks, his face full of concern.
"I don't want to talk about it."
The Spanish teacher sighs. "Let's go to the guidance office," he says, picking the Latina up off the ground. "Come on, let's go. I'll excuse you from your next class."
Santana doesn't answer, but Mr. Shue leads her to the guidance office anyway.
XXX
"Um, so Santana, can you tell me what happened?" Ms. Pillsbury asks timidly, her wide, brown eyes flitting from Santana to a poster above the girl's head.
"I pushed Fabray around a bit, some names were thrown around, and that's it. Nothing happened," Santana lies, and Mr. Shue leans forward to protest. "Mr. Vest fetish over here just wants me to get in trouble. Can I leave now?"
"Hold on Santana. That's not what happened," Mr. Shue says, but Santana crosses her arms and looks out the window. "If you want help, you're going to have to tell Ms. Pillsbury everything. "
Santana sits there in silence for a minute or so, then turns to Ms. Pillsbury.
"Quinn was a nark and told Coach Sylvester that I had a… a boob job," Santana begins, taking a moment to glare at Mr. Shue before turning back to the guidance counselor. "So Coach demoted me to the bottom of the pyramid, and Quinn took my place as head cheerleader. So, I confronted her."
"But that's not the whole story, Santana," Mr. Shue says.
"Let her talk, Will I… I mean Mr. Shuester," Ms. Pillsbury corrects herself, then motions to Santana. "Go on, Santana."
"I pushed her around a bit, I called her a slut, and she called me a lesbian," Santana says matter-of-factly, but then begins to tear up. "She told everyone that Brittany was my 'fuck buddy' and she called me a dyke." Santana wipes a small tear from her eye, not wanting to ruin her make up. Brittany had done such a good job on her eyeliner this morning.
The two teachers looked to one another, not knowing what to say.
"Well, we'll have to stop those rumors. I'll bring Quinn into my office right now," Ms. Pillsbury says and picks up her desk phone. "Do you know what room she's in right now?"
"You don't need to do that, Ms. Pillsbury. I'm fine," Santana says, scooping her bag up off the carpeted floor.
"Are you sure Santana? You don't want to sort this out?" Ms. Pillsbury asks quietly, and Santana shakes her head. "Okay then, you may leave."
Without a word, Santana opens the door and walks out of the guidance office. She slowly makes her way to English, not wanting other students to see her cry.
I think I love Brittany, but I sure as hell won't let anyone know that. Keep your head up, Lopez. You'll be fine, you always are. Just keep the insults coming.
XXX
When Santana enters the McKinley cafeteria she is immediately met with whispers and cruel, slow motion laughter. Just keep your head up, Lopez. As per usual, the small Latina walks over to the Cheerios table, specialty Sue Sylvester drink in hand. Santana sits down next to a girl whose name she can't recall just now.
"Hey girls," Santana says, ready to hear all the gossip everyone has from the first half of the day. To her surprise, all the Cheerios just get up and leave. Just like that. From the front of the group she can see Quinn, devilishly wiggling her fingers at Santana with that queen bee look on her face. Santana bites back her mean insults, trying not to get in another fight. That would only make the head cheerleader happier.
Why did she get a boob job anyway? She knew that everyone already noticed her last year, and that was when she was just a sophomore. Even freshman year, all the guys were hitting on her. She and Brittany were thinking about getting sticks to beat off invading boys with that year. Santana thought that it would make her more noticeable, and it sure did. Now she had to deal with the consequences of being in the limelight.
"Hey, um, Santana? Are you okay?" asks a kind, feminine voice. Santana slowly looks up to see Tina standing at the other end of the table, hands clasped together in front of her. Santana glares at her, wiping tears from her glossy eyes.
Shit. I don't want Tina to see me cry. Think Santana, think.
"I'm fine, girl chang," Santana says harshly, but Tina doesn't move. "What?"
"Rachel told me about what happened with you and Quinn today," Tina begins, sitting down at the empty table. "Is it true? What she said, I mean."
"No, of course not," Santana lies, and takes a sip of her drink. Tina can tell that something is wrong, but she also knows that Santana would never admit it to anyone, especially her.
"Hey guys!" Tina calls to the glee club kids, who are sitting at another table. "Come sit with Santana and I!"
Santana stares on in horror as Rachel, Kurt, Finn and Mercedes come over to the table to sit with them.
"Oh sweet Jesus, not the hobbit. I told you, go back to the Shire," Santana mumbles under her breath, and then tightens her ponytail. She rests her tanned hand on the lunch table.
"Santana, as I have already told you, I am not a hobbit and therefore do not belong in the Shire. Secondly," Rachel says, putting her hand on Santana's. "We heard what Quinn said."
"Is it true, Santana?" Kurt asks, his eyes twinkling with anticipation. Santana's chest began to feel tight again, and it was like she couldn't get enough air.
"Would you all leave me alone? It's just a stupid rumor!" Santana shouts and runs out the cafeteria, leaving the rest of the glee club kids to blame Rachel for Santana's brash reaction.
XXX
Santana lies on her large bed, calmly observing at the Amy Winehouse poster hung on the ceiling above her. She wishes she could've met the music legend, before she died and all. Of course, Santana's strict parents would never allow her to go to one of her concerts, because whenever Amy Winehouse stepped on stage she always had a red solo cup filled with vodka in hand. Santana would never want to be like that, but she still admired the woman.
Santana turns her head to the side and smiles when she sees a picture of she and Brittany on her nightstand. The picture was taken at the state fair last year. The Cheerio remembers the moment captured in the photograph as if it was taken yesterday...
Santana and Brittany exit the fun house, Brittany still a bit dizzy from the rolling tunnel room. The two girls walk around the open field until they reach a cluster of food vendor stands.
"Santana, we have to get some cotton candy!" Brittany shouts, her blue eyes wide with excitement. Santana can't help but giggle a little. "Please, Santana! We'll be real unicorns if we eat cotton candy."
"Okay, okay," Santana says, walking up to the cotton candy vendor. "Two please," she says, holding up a pair of fingers. The man behind the counter nods and goes over to the machine that makes the cloud like candy. Santana watches as her friend's eyes get wider and wider with each layer of candy spun onto the cones. With a smile, the man politely hands the girls their candy.
"$4.00, please."
Santana nods and pays the man before leaving. The girls decide to sit on a bench next to the bumper cars ride to eat their cotton candy.
"Oh my goodness this is delicious. If cotton candy could sing, it would sound like Justin Timberlake," Brittany remarks, ripping another fluffy piece off her pink could. Santana smiles and reaches into her purse, digging around for something. Brittany laughs when she sees Santana's hand emerge from the bag with a camera. The blonde slides closer to Santana so she can get in the picture.
"Say cheese!" Santana says, mushing her face closer to Brittany's.
"Say unicorns!" Brittany exclaims, and Santana is overcome in a fit of laughter...
God, she loved Brittany. Even now, she wasn't thinking about guys at school. She was only thinking about Brittany. She and Brittany had even had sex a few times, and the blonde thought it was completely okay with it. Maybe it was okay. Santana wanted Brittany to be her girlfriend, but she saw how Kurt was treated at McKinley. She didn't want that for her, or for Brittany.
I will just keep it a secret for now. I will deny everything until I sort all this out. Or, until people just forget about it. Should I call Brittany? Santana thinks to herself. So many questions, still left unanswered.
Santana jumps a bit when her phone buzzes, on the nightstand with the picture. The Latina reluctantly plucks her phone off the table and brings it to her face. When she opens the cell phone she groans at the message.
Puckerman: i heard a rumor that u swing the other way. call me
Santana decides to ignore the message, but her phone rings again with a new message.
419-623-7891: Hello Santana, this Rachel Berry. I wanted to apologize for what I said today. As a token of my apology, I have left a basket of cookies on your doorstep. Enjoy! –Rachel
What? Berry knows where she lives? Santana couldn't believe it. She quickly texts back.
Santana: berry, what r u doing at my house? im going outside now
Santana quickly runs down the stairs to the front door and opens the white door. To her relief, Rachel isn't at her door eagerly waiting for her. Instead a small white basket filled with some cookies sits on the Lopez's front porch. Santana looks around to make sure no one is outside, and then quickly grabs hold of the basket and hurries inside. When she gets back upstairs Santana shuts her door and opens up the card lying atop the baked treats.
Santana,
Here are some cookies, and as you eat them, here is some advice. I think you should come out, officially. You're letting Quinn win by hiding, letting everyone make assumptions. Don't try to deny it, I saw you and Brittany making out in the locker room once. Also, Brittany told me you two were dating.
I hope you take my advice, but do whatever you like.
Rachel Barbra Berry
Santana rolls her eyes when she sees a sparkling, gold star at the end of Rachel's name.
Why does Rachel feel the need to give me advice? I can do whatever the hell I want, I'm Santana Fucking Lopez!
Well, wait a sec. Maybe Berry has a point. Maybe I should stop hiding.
Hold up, since when do I even listen to Rachel? I'm obviously loosing it. Go to bed, Santana.
Santana quickly changes into a tank top and shorts, as it is still a little warm for September. She climbs into bed, closing her eyes and letting sleep overtake her.
A/N: Quinn and Finn are together in my story. Forgot to mention that at the beginning, because a note at the start of a story looks weird.
