Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any songs performed in this story. This is purely a work of fiction.
Santana hated to admit that she was excited about anything, but her first dance class at NYADA had made her feel alive again. She pulled her hair back from her face and donned a black leotard. She pulled a tight dress on over it and slipped into her boots. She grabbed her dance bag and headed for the door. "I'm leaving," she called. Rachel poked her head out from her bedroom door. "So early? I thought your class didn't start for another hour," she said. "I'm gonna grab a coffee on the way," she lied. "The teacher is kind of pissy if you're late." "Oh. Okay," Rachel said, ducking back into her room.
It was a short subway ride to NYADA, though it felt like forever. Santana hated the subway. She was constantly getting felt up by assholes old enough to be her father and it smelled terrible most of the time. She was glad to step off the train at her stop, take the steps up to the street, and make her way into the building where her class was held. She checked the time on the clock in the hall. She still had about forty minutes before anyone showed up. She walked into the empty room, shimmied out of her dress, and made her way to one of the bars. After a quick warm up, she put her iPod on and lost herself in the music.
She hadn't been dancing long when someone came in unexpectedly. She ripped her earbuds from her ears and stopped dancing. "Oh, sorry! I didn't mean to scare you. Is this the dance class? I'm...I'm Des," the girl said, holding out a hand for Santana to shake. Santana just stared at her until she put her hand down. "Sorry," she mumbled again. She turned and put her bag down in a corner. Santana watched the girl kick off her sneakers and awkwardly take off her jeans and t-shirt. Underneath was a shiny purple leotard and black shorts. Des turned back around and put her shoes back on. She looked up and looked away quickly when she caught Santana staring.
At first glance, Des didn't seem all that special. She was a little on the short side, with fiery red hair that tumbled down her shoulders in soft waves. Her pale arms were covered in freckles, as well as the bridge of her nose and cheeks, and her top teeth were a little crooked. Santana had also noticed a long scar above her left eyebrow that started in the middle and ended just before her hairline.
She stretched her legs behind her back, one at a time, then bent down to touch her toes. Santana had to remind herself to look away. She put her iPod back in her bag and decided to try and strike up a conversation to make up for being rude before. "What kind of name is Des?" she asked. She mentally slapped herself. "I mean..." She tried to salvage the situation but Des just smiled warmly at her. "My parents stuck me with Desdemona after Othello's wife. Ain't that awful? So I just tell people to call me Des or Mona." "Oh," Santana replied. She would have used a nickname too if her parents had named her something as awful as Desdemona. "You weren't here last time," Santana observed. She would have remembered that hair and those bright green eyes. "I didn't make it. I had a surprise visit from my sister," Des replied.
"Oh." Santana tried to figure out something to talk about. She normally had no problem talking to people, unless you count being involuntarily rude a problem. "Yeah, she does that. She likes to inspect my life and report back to our parents," she sighed. She sat down beside Santana. "Do you have siblings?" she asked. Santana shook her head. "No." "Oh, well, they're a blessing and a curse. On one hand I couldn't imagine my life without them, on the other I'd like to know what it's like to be an only child sometimes." Santana didn't know what to say to that. She had never really thought about what it would be like to have siblings. She was usually happy to be an only child.
It was quiet for a moment. Des stared up at the clock. "Why did you come so early?" Santana blurted. "I didn't mean to. I'm usually late for everything but I think my roommates messed with the clock." "Why would they do that?" Santana asked. Des shrugged. "I don't think they're particularly friendly. What brings you here so early?" she asked. "I came to practice," Santana replied, sounding more annoyed than she actually felt. "Well, don't let me stop you," Des said, gesturing to the empty floor in front of them. Santana felt her neck get warm but noticed that Des' cheeks had turned pink. "It's fine, there's only a few minutes until people start showing up," Santana replied.
A few minutes later the instructor arrived, followed by a wave of students. The short-haired woman dressed in all black turned her gaze to Des. "You," she said, squinting. "You weren't here last time." Des turned full red. "No, ma'am." "Why not?" Des gulped as the teacher stared. The rest of the class turned to stare as well. "Well?" "Family emergency," Santana lied. The instructor looked at her. "And how would you know?" "I asked her before class," Santana said. The instructor clucked her tongue and said no more on the subject. When she turned her back, Des mouthed a quick 'thank you' to Santana.
After class Santana put her dress back on while Des slipped back into her jeans. They were the last to leave. Des was waiting outside for Santana, drinking a bottle of water. "Hey," she said awkwardly. "Hi," Santana replied. They walked towards the subway in silence. "So, I don't want to seem weird or anything. I just wanted to say thanks for helping me out in there. I just kind of froze when everyone started staring at me," Des said. Santana shrugged. "No big deal," she said. Des smiled shyly and nodded. "Well, my apartment is just a couple blocks that way, so I guess I'll see you Thursday," she said. "See you Thursday," Santana replied. Des gave her a smile and waved as she walked past the stairs to the subway and disappeared from view.
Santana kept thinking about her all the way home. She had never met someone so awkward in her entire life. She didn't notice Kurt sitting on the couch, reading a magazine, when she walked in. "Have a good class?" he asked, making her jump. "What? Yeah, it was fine," Santana said. Kurt lowered the magazine. "What's with you?" he asked. "Nothing," Santana said, suddenly wishing she had her own room so she could have some privacy. She took off her shoes and strolled into Rachel's room, where she was keeping her clothes, and picked an outfit. Kurt followed. "Stop following me, Lady Hummel," Santana huffed. "Not until you tell me what's going on," he said. Rachel perked up. "What's going on?" she asked. "That's what I'm trying to find out," Kurt replied. Santana rolled her eyes and barreled past Kurt.
They both followed her into the bathroom. "You seem...far away," Kurt said. "Is something wrong?" Rachel asked, concern flooding her eyes. "I'm fine, I'm just tired and I have to work tonight," Santana said. Kurt crossed his arms, unrelenting. Santana was done talking, though, and really did have to work. She took off her dress. Kurt stubbornly stayed where he was, determined to call her bluff. She calmly pulled one arm out of her leotard. Rachel pulled on Kurt's arm and he finally followed her out. "I'll find out eventually," he called.
Santana rolled her eyes and stepped into the steaming water. It felt good to let all her worries and fears wash away with the sweat, even if only for a little while. She hummed a random tune as she washed her hair and she suddenly felt lonely. She'd had no one to hold her except for her girlfriend pillow for ages. She needed human interaction. Badly.
She finished her shower and dried off. As she got ready she took care to make sure she looked extra hot, hoping to pick someone up at the end of the night. When her hair and makeup were done to smokin' hot perfection and she was satisfied with her appearance, she left the damp, steamy bathroom. Rachel and Kurt sat in the living room in their usual roommate meeting positions. Rachel sat up straight. "Santana, we..." "Save it," Santana interjected, looking around for her purse. Rachel frowned and exchanged a look with Kurt. Santana stopped and faced her friends. "Look, I get that you're just concerned and I appreciate that. I really do. But sometimes people just need a little privacy. I don't go digging into every aspect of your life. I expect you to extend the same courtesy."
Her roommates exchanged another look. "Santana, you went to ridiculous lengths to prove to Rachel that Brody was bad news. You called Finn here. AND you caught Brody in a trap so Finn could beat the crap out of him!" Kurt pointed out. "That was different," Santana argued. "How?" Kurt asked, folding his arms over his chest. "Because I had a bad feeling about him and my psychic Mexican third eye is never wrong." Rachel and Kurt rolled their eyes and gave each other an exasperated look. "We just want to make sure you're okay. We care about you," Rachel said. "I'm fine. I just..." She sighed and rolled her eyes up to the ceiling. "I may be having some difficulty getting over Britt and it's been hard being alone. I just miss her."
Before Santana knew what was happening she was engulfed in a group hug. "Oh, Santana, we know it's hard. But you are beautiful and talented and a really good person deep down," Rachel said. "Deep, deep down," Kurt agreed. "And it's New York! You'll find a girl, I know you will." Rachel smiled reassuringly. Santana couldn't help but smile and count herself lucky to have two wonderful, annoying friends.
So, thanks for reading. I know that this was different than the idea I talked about before but I've been having hardcore Santana feels. Anyway, basically I've just kind of accepted that Brittana has broken up and all I really want is for Santana to be happy. If you liked this let me know and I'll continue. (: