Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or its characters, etc.
I have to give some credit to TheJiffyLube6 for the idea of how Santana became a cheerleader, because you mentioned in your story "Roommates" that Kurt wondered how Santana had ever been a cheerleader because she didn't seem the type. So, thanks! :) Sorry for any typos. It's late and I don't feel like re-reading it again... :)
"I'M NOT GOING! I'M NOT GOING TO BE SOME LAME CHEERLEADER!"
Santana slams her bedroom door in a fit of rage. Her mother is insisting that she try out for the Cheerios, McKinley's cheerleading team. As an incoming freshman, Santana doesn't want to appear like every other girl out there. Cheerleading is lame. She needs to build up a reputation so she doesn't get picked on by any pathetic losers. She needs to show people that Santana Lopez isn't someone to mess with. She certainly can't do that if she has to join the fricking cheerleading team.
"SANTANA MARIE LOPEZ! GET YOUR BUTT OUT HERE, NOW!"
Santana sighs and considers ignoring her obviously upset parents. She knows better, however. She can't afford to get grounded already, before school even starts. She drags her feet out to the living room and finds her mother sitting on the couch.
"Santana. You will try out for cheerleading. End of discussion."
"But, Mom... cheerleading is so stupid. Everyone will make fun of me."
Her mother rolls her eyes. "No. You will see that you will be very popular if you are a cheerleader. Just trust me, Santanita."
"Look. Obviously, you're not going to let this go so I'll try out for the frickin' team. Happy, now?" She strolls back to her room without an answer. Her mother doesn't come after her; they don't have the best relationship. Her father is always gone and her mother works all the time. Not to mention they have completely opposite personalities.
Santana sighs and groans. "I can't believe I might actually become some wimpy cheerleader..."
The next day is the first day of her freshman year at McKinley High and Santana walks in like she owns the place.
In her first class, she's forced to sit next to some kid named Finn. The kid is dumb, and Santana makes sure to tell him so.
"Look, Dopey, I clearly don't want to work with you on this lame science experiment, but since I have to, you are going to do exactly as I say. Just because you're the guy doesn't make you in control here. Got it?"
Finn only nods. "Uh, okay, Santana. Are you always this mean?"
"Shut up."
She isn't, of course, but if it takes being mean to protect herself from being bullied, then she'll do it.
She somehow manages to make it through Spanish, history, lunch (where she ended up sitting with a bunch of tough kids she knew from last year who she really wasn't friends with) and mathematics. Her only class left for the day is English.
Her English teacher is a little too excited about the subject, if you ask Santana. Seriously? What's so exciting about Edgar Allan Poe?
She sighs and props her hand on her chin as she doodles on her notebook, when the door suddenly opens and a wisp of a girl, with blonde hair, walks in the room with a confused expression on her face.
Mrs. Pillsbury stops exclaiming about the wonders of metaphors enough to smile at the girl. "Hello? And you are?"
The girl shifts her backpack higher on her shoulder and Santana's eyes are drawn to her cute, white, sleeveless shirt and tight black pants. Combined with the girl's golden curls, she's very pretty. She's exactly the type of person Santana shouldn't be hanging around with. A wimpy, pretty girl who will probably get asked out a million times and teased even more.
"Um... Is this the English room? My schedule says room 3, oh, 4, but I couldn't find the room..."
Mrs. Pillsbury frowns and checks the sign on the front of the door. "No, see, it says '304' on the front of the door. This is the right room."
The girl only shrugs. "Oh, well my schedule had the numbers "three, the letter o, and a four" not "three, zero, four"... I thought they just put an "o" there so the letters wouldn't feel left out. They always use numbers, so I bet the letters feel sad sometimes."
Everyone stares at the girl in shock, not sure if she's being serious and a feel people start to snicker and make snide comments about her obvious stupidity. The girl smiles in oblivion and gracefully walks over to a chair next to Santana (no one had dared sit by her after she glared at them) and she sits down, with a smile in Santana's direction.
"Hi! I'm Brittany! I like your hair!"
"Santana." The compliment about her hair was the first nice thing anyone had said to her today. That, and the fact that Brittany smiles at her (even though she was glaring) and offers her some gum makes her instantly like the girl, despite her best effort not to.
Mrs. Pillsbury claps her hands. "All right! Everyone turn to the person next to you and analyze the poem I have given everyone. It's Edgar Allen Poe's 'Raven'. Any questions?"
Brittany slightly raises her hand. "Um... Why did he have a raven as a pet? Isn't that like against the law or something?"
A boy calls out from the back, "No, stupid, it wasn't his pet. Did your parents drop you on your head when you were little?"
The rest of the class laughs in an uproar and Mrs. Pillsbury attempts to calm them down. While she is doing so, Santana watches Brittany's reaction to the comment. She ducks her head and winces, as if she is physically hurt. Tears spring up in her eyes but she quickly wipes them away and pretends to start reading the poem.
Santana cautiously reaches out her hand and rests it on Brittany's bare shoulder. "Hey. Ignore them. They're just losers."
Brittany glances up and smiles tentatively. "Um... thanks. I'm used to it, anyway."
For some reason, something rises up within Santana, something she has rarely felt before. She has the sudden urge to shield Brittany. Some might call the feeling one of protectiveness. This innocent, freshman girl was so beautiful and so untarnished by the world. She shared her feelings on her sleeve and clearly cared about others. She didn't deserve to be made fun of, and she was the first person to be nice to Santana all day. As much as she doesn't want to like Brittany, she has to say something.
"You shouldn't be. I bet you're much smarter than you give yourself credit for."
Brittany glances up again from the poem. "Thanks! I wish everyone was as nice as you, Santana."
"Yeah, well, not everyone can be as awesome as I am..."
Brittany's giggle tells Santana that they're past the hurt feelings over the boy's rude comment.
After school, Santana has to stick around and try out for Cheerios. As much as she doesn't want to, she doesn't have a choice. After yesterday's heated discussion, her Mom threatened to ground her for a week if she didn't try out.
She walks into the locker room with her ultimate Lopez "don't mess with me" attitude and changes into her sweats. As she is putting her other clothes in her locker, Brittany walks into the room and makes a beeline for her.
"Santana! Wow, are you trying out for Cheerios? That's so great! Maybe we'll both be on the team."
Okay. Helping Brittany out earlier when she was being teased was fine. But becoming her best cheerleading, sissy pal? This girl was starting to get on her nerves. At least, that's what Santana tries to convince herself as she notices Brittany's toned body and nice curves. She's just jealous, that's all. She isn't in quite that good of shape... yet.
They make their way out to the gym and find a panel of cheerleaders and the coach, Sue Sylvester, staring at them condescendingly.
The other tryouts watch as one by one cheerleader-wanna-be's get called to tryout. Almost every time, the girl ends up crying and running from the gym. Sue is really harsh.
Soon, Santana hear's "Lopez, Santana!"
She steps up in front of the panel with confidence and nods her head to the nerdy kid manning the c.d. player to start the song.
She gives the performance her all (even though, thinking back, she shouldn't have done that if she didn't want to be on the team. But, Santana Lopez does not do anything halfway): She does cartwheels, flips, a handstand, random cheers, the splits, the Mickenly cheer and more.
When she's finished and out of breath, Sue studies her for a moment. "Well, Lopez. Clearly, you're out of shape and overweight. Your cheers were pathetic. Where did you learn that, kindergarten? Are you some demented, deranged monkey? That's how you looked, Lopez! But, obviously, I have no choice but to accept you. Take your uniform and work out those flabby arms before 6 a.m. practice tomorrow!"
Santana is tempted to respond back heatedly, but she doesn't, for once. She's heard rumors that a girl once stood up to Sue and ended up needing psychiatric treatment. Who knows what happened. Some suspect that Sue gave the girl a cat and snuck into her house in the middle of the night and punched her in the face. The girl couldn't stop having nightmares about it after that... At least, that's what they say.
Santana stays to watch Brittany audition. She doesn't know why she does. Actually, she does know why. If she didn't stay to watch, she would surely see the same hurt feeling on Brittany's face next English class that she did today after the boy teased Brittany.
Brittany nods and the music starts. She does a double back-flip, a somersault in the air, and many, many cheers. She's astonishingly good. Santana was not expecting her to be so amazing. Clearly, Brittany was a graceful person. Santana couldn't help but admire her lean movements.
"Well... Pierce, is it? I've heard you're dumber than a piece of chalk, but you'll do. Work out those skimpy legs, though, would you? You don't have hardly any meat on them. I need girls who can hold up my pyramid, not topple it. If you screw up, Pierce... Man, the selection I have to put up with these days..."
Brittany only smiles in exultation and bounds over to Santana. "We did it!" She drags Santana back to the locker room and goes on and on about how much fun this is going to be. Fun isn't what comes to mind when Santana thinks of getting up at 6 a.m. the next morning, but she can't help but smile at Brittany's cute antics. Maybe this won't be so bad after all...