"Lopez! Less drinking, more stretching!" Coach Sylvester yelled through her megaphone.
Santana looked up from the bottle of water that she had uncapped and was currently chugging down. The cold water felt like heaven against her parched throat. She was exhausted, feeling sick and didn't want to stretch. She didn't know what was going on with herself that day, but all she wanted was to go home and curl up in bed, maybe eat one of her abuela's special tamales or two. But she knew better than to challenge Coach Sylvester.
She screwed the cap back onto her water bottle, walking back over to the sidelines and taking her place beside Brittany. Even though Santana hadn't said a word and had simply complied with the orders she had been given, Coach took that opportunity to yell at the whole squad, lecturing them about how lazy and stupid they were, and how they didn't need to drink from their water bottles every ten minutes, she had lived in the middle of a desert all alone with her sister for six years and had only been able to drink water twice a year, and yet here she was.
"You okay?" Brittany asked in concern, glancing at Santana's face. "You don't look too good. You look kinda greenish."
"Thanks a lot, Brittany," Santana snapped, suddenly growing angry at her friend. Which was odd, since her and Brittany almost never fought. She had a short temper with most people, but Brittany was different. She was... special. Ever since the two girls had met at the tender age of five, Santana had felt the need to protect the blonde from any harm that came her way.
Maybe she was PMSing. Which would make sense, Santana reasoned, since I'm two weeks late.
"So have you decided whether you're keeping Drizzle yet?" Brittany cheerfully asked Quinn.
The three girls were at the food court at the mall later that day. They hadn't spent as much time with Quinn ever since she got herself knocked up with Puck's demon baby and kicked off the Cheerios, but Brittany had insisted on going when Quinn invited them to come to the mall with her after they were finished with cheerleading practice that day, and that was what made Santana finally reluctantly agree to come with. Who knew what kinds of corrupted ideas Quinn would put into Brittany's head if Santana wasn't there?
Quinn shook her head. "I see you've been talking to Finn. I'm not naming her Drizzle, B. I can't believe he's still insisting on that name even after he... well, you know." Quinn stepped up to the counter at Baskin Robbins, ordering a sundae.
Santana stared lustfully at it. It looked like heaven, but she was stuck ordering a smoothie, and even that was pushing it. Hopefully she would be able to work off the extra calories before her next weigh-in.
"Careful, Tubbers. Don't wanna gain any more weight than you have to. Soon we'll have to widen the hallways just so that you don't crush the rest of us," she sneered.
"Shut up, Santana. Don't be a bitch just because you're an idiot who won't quit the Cheerios even though you hate it."
"Oh, please. You act like you nobly quit the Cheerios or something. You got kicked off, remember? Remember how you moped around for, like, two weeks after, too?"
"Guys, stop." Brittany pouted. "You're killing the fairies."
Both Santana and Quinn stared incredulously at their friend. She didn't make a bit of sense, but what was new? That got them to stop bickering, though.
The three girls paid and got their orders from the cashier, heading over and sitting down at a table. It was their favorite table in the whole food court. Just far back enough from the others so that they could watch everything and everyone else going on, quietly praising the people they liked and slamming the ones they didn't, but not so far secluded in the corner that they looked like gothic, anorexic loners.
Quinn began eating her sundae and Brittany began to slurp her smoothie down noisily. Santana took a small sip of her smoothie. While normally she really liked it here, today she just wasn't feeling it. She blanched a little and set her cup back down on the table. The smell of oranges was flooding her nostrils, overpowering her senses and making it almost impossible for her to think about anything other than the feeling of nausea that was growing in the pit of her stomach.
Meanwhile, Brittany and Quinn were yet again having a conversation about Quinn's pregnancy. "So I have a doctor appointment next week, and Puck said..."
"Okay, Quinn, I don't mean to be a bitch. Well, actually I do," Santana butted in. "But everyone's getting sick of hearing about you talk about your stupid lizard baby. You know, I hate to say it, but you used to be kinda fun before you got knocked up. Now you're just a snooze."
"Did you take an extra dose of your bitch pills this morning?" Quinn asked calmly in her no-nonsense, HBIC way. Even though she was now at the bottom of the social pyramid, she still had the power to make someone quiver just from a raise of her eyebrow. Except for Santana Lopez, of course. That was why the two girls had always been at odds with the other, vying to be on top.
Santana had opened her mouth, fully prepared to go into a full-length rant about how much Quinn sucked, but then she took in the smell of the smoothie again, and the feeling of nausea moved from the pit of her stomach to her throat. She jumped up from the table, rushing in the other direction to the women's bathroom. She threw open the door to one of the stalls, leaning over the toilet and violently upchucking her lunch.
Before she knew it, two pairs of feet were rushing in after her. She could feel Brittany gently stroking her hair and rubbing her back, whispering into her ear that it was alright, and she could hear the sounds of the water running and then being shut off. Quinn approached her, gently pressing a wet paper towel to her forehead.
"Are you okay? Are you sick?" Quinn asked.
"No," the Latina moaned.
Quinn frowned in concentration, and Santana looked up at her. "What?"
"I... I don't want to jump to conclusions, but... Santana, when was your last period?"
"The fuck are you asking me that for? I'm not pregnant, Quinn Fabray! I-I'm not."
"Well, if you're not sick... then that's the only explanation I can come up with for why you're vomiting like this," Quinn explained. "It's better to be safe than sorry."
"No. I can't be like you, okay? I can't be tethered to a baby and to one guy forever. I'm finally head Cheerio, I actually give a shit about school and my future... I'm gonna get the hell out of Lima after graduation and never come back. How can I do that with a bratty kid attached to my leg?"
"Speaking of that... who's would it be if you were pregnant?" Quinn frowned in disappointment, and Santana knew what she was thinking about. She was afraid that it was Puck's, that he had continued fooling around with Santana behind Quinn's back, that she'd have to share a baby daddy with her best friend who also happened to be her worst enemy sometimes.
"It's not Puck's, if that's what you're thinking." She shook her head. "We haven't really hooked up ever since I broke up with him, and that was months ago."
But then a horrible thought came to Santana's head.
Oh, no. No.
Finn Hudson was the only guy she had actually had sex with in the past couple of months.
"If I'm pregnant... it would be Finn's," she whispered.
Quinn's eyes widened. She had heard about Santana and Finn's hooking up, but she hadn't expected that. "What? Are you sure? Surely he isn't the only guy you've hooked up with recently..."
Santana felt a fresh wave of irritation wash over her. "Yeah, he is. Trying to call me a slut, Fabgay? Maybe you should just say it straight up instead of doing the whole subtle insults shit."
"Of course I'm not calling you a slut, Santana. I'm the last person who has the right to call someone that." She unconsciously rubbed her stomach. Santana had noticed her doing that a lot lately. Whether she realized it or not, Quinn really did want to keep her baby.
"Yeah, you're right," Santana agreed, which earned her a gentle smack on the arm from Quinn and an absent-minded giggle from Brittany.
"Look... why don't you go to your house with Brittany?" Quinn suggested. "I'll run to the drugstore and buy a couple of pregnancy tests, and then I'll come over there and you can take them. How does that sound?"
That sounded terrible to Santana, actually, but she knew that she'd have to take a pregnancy test eventually if she really thought she was pregnant. Why not just do it now and get it out of the way so she could move on with her life? "Fine."
"This is a really pretty color," Brittany remarked to Santana, holding up a teal blue mini that was hanging in the back of her closet. The two girls were camped out in Santana's bedroom, anxiously waiting for Quinn to arrive with the pregnancy tests. Brittany was doing her best to distract Santana, though.
Santana was laying on her stomach on her bed. She looked at the dress. "You can keep it," she said with a shrug of her shoulders. "I don't know what I was thinking when I bought it. Teal is so not my color."
"Yay!" Brittany let out a squeal, jumping onto the bed with Santana and tackling her in a big bear hug. Santana couldn't control the smile that spread across her face at Brittany's antics. She was feeling like crap at the moment, but seeing Brittany smile in that way at her was enough to put her in a good mood for the rest of the day.
"So what are you gonna do if you're pregnant?" she asked gently.
"I don't know..." Santana shrugged her shoulders, a lump forming in her throat at the thought of it. She couldn't get an abortion, Quinn would probably announce Santana's pregnancy to the entire town just to stop her from terminating the pregnancy if she tried to do that. She didn't know how she could carry her child for nine months and then just give it away, but how could she raise a kid, either? She was still just a kid herself. She wasn't ready for this.
"I think Quinn's here!" Brittany announced brightly. She jumped off of the bed, running out of Santana's bedroom and down the stairs to unlock the front door for Quinn.
The two girls made their way back up to Santana's bedroom, and Quinn held up a plastic bag that was clearly from the drugstore. "I have them. I got two, just in case," she explained. "Sometimes they give false results."
Santana nodded her head, standing up off of the bed and taking the bag from Quinn. "Yeah... thanks, I guess," she said awkwardly, heading for the bathroom across the hall.
She locked the door once she was in, pulling down her cheerleading uniform. She took the tests one after another, being careful not to screw anything up, and then she set them down on the counter, waiting. She paced around the tiny bathroom anxiously, waiting for the timers to go off and announce that her results were ready.
It was an excruciatingly long (at least to her) time period to wait, but when she heard them go off she rushed over.
She closed her eyes, praying to God that he help her, that he make those tests negative. Please, God, I'll stop drinking and sleeping with every guy I meet and being a bitch to everyone I know... well, maybe not that one. Okay, I'll stop being a bitch to the people who don't deserve it if you please, just please make these tests be negative.
She opened her eyes, taking a deep breath and reaching for the first test. Her stomach dropped as she saw the results on the first one, and then grabbed the second one, seeing that it was the same.
A plus sign on both.
Santana Lopez was pregnant.
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