"I'm still not sure how you convinced me to go on this stupid trip," I mumbled, dragging a large pink suitcase behind me. The beautiful sound of my heels clicking against the pavement did nothing to improve my mood.
Quinn rolled her eyes at my antics. "I never thought Santana Lopez would question a free vacation in paradise. You have proved me wrong for perhaps the first and last time in your life."
"Ha ha, very funny," I sarcastically retorted.
Quinn and I were walking up to a private jet on a sunny August day in Orlando, Florida. Our high school friend (and I use the term "friend" extremely loosely) Sugar Motta had received the jet as a present for her 21st birthday from her father. I originally thought I must have heard incorrectly when I was told this, but then again, Sugar's wealth really shouldn't surprise me at this point. My jaw has never dropped lower than when she showed off her new Camaro that she got for…wait for it…Earth Day last year.
The most incredible part about it, however, was that the jet was only part one of Sugar's elaborate present. For the plane's maiden voyage, she got to take six friends on an all expense paid trip to Panama, courtesy of her doting daddy. It would be a week in a luxury resort filled with white sand, turquoise waters, and all the booze one could drink.
This is where I came into the picture. Though I didn't consider Sugar to be one of my close friends, apparently Sugar thought we were. In fact, Quinn and I were the first people she invited on this grandeur trip. While I'm pretty sure I was born for the sole purpose to soak up the sun, a week dealing with the overly energetic Sugar made it not seem worth it. However, Quinn convinced me that tolerating Sugar was a small price to pay considering we were getting a free vacation in Central America. Reluctantly I said yes, and then almost immediately took it back after hearing Sugar squeal in excitement, wrapping me in a bear hug. It took hours of scrubbing in the shower for me to feel remotely comfortable again.
While approaching the jet, I couldn't help but admire its splendor. Sugary Sweet was written on the side of the plane in large pink cursive script. The bright sun reflected off of three diamond-encrusted passenger windows, along with the windshield. A red-carpeted staircase led up to the door in the aircraft. Atop the stairs stood a man in a pilot uniform, hands folded behind his back. The only part of his face I could make out was a smirk on his lips, seeing as he was wearing aviators and a cap. While he admittedly looked sharp in his attire, he seemed far too arrogant and cocky for my liking. Based on my standards, I'd say he's coming in at a Level 3 out of 5 on my Suspicious People Scale (patent pending).
"Ah, you beautiful ladies must be Santana and Quinn. You two are the last to arrive at the Sugary Sweet. Welcome aboard. My name is Puck and I will be your pilot for the trip," the man said, bowing at the end of his speech. I couldn't help but note that the damn smirk stayed on his face the entire time.
Quinn scoffed at him. "What the hell kind of name is Puck? Did your parents want to make their child as much of a loser as their favorite hockey team was?"
I grinned at my best friend, not bothering to hold back a small snort. While I am the self-proclaimed master at delivering clever insults on the spot, Quinn certainly had her moments.
Puck chuckled lightly, clasping his hands in front of him. "While I admire your creative response, it comes from my last name, Puckerman. I would tell you my first name, but I want to save us getting better acquainted for when we have landed in Panama and have much less clothing on."
Even with his aviators covering his eyes, I just knew that he ended that sentence with a wink aimed in our direction. I grimaced at the thought of Puck coming onto me once I changed into my leopard-print bikini. I was well aware of the fact that I was about as hot as they come, especially with minimal clothes on, but I batted on the same team as Puck and was damn proud of it.
"Sorry Puck, but you won't be getting "better acquainted" with either of us," I said, using my fingers to illustrate the quotation marks around my words. "You see, I appreciate the female form as much as you do, and my friend Quinn here can do much better than someone who probably conducts more full body checks on women than all the security personnel at the Orlando International Airport put together," I replied cheekily, looking him up and down in the process.
Puck threw his hands in the air playfully. "You certainly can't blame a man for trying. You sure are hot for a lesbian, I'll give you that."
"I'll pretend like I didn't hear that last part and let you walk away with your balls intact, as long as you step aside and let us on the plane without speaking a single word," I said threateningly, pointing a finger at him.
Much to my chagrin, it looked as if Puck wanted to challenge my statement. As he opened his mouth to say something undoubtedly stupid, I promptly cut him off. "Not. One. Word," I spoke, poking him in the chest as I said each word for extra emphasis.
Puck moved his fingers across his lips as if he were zipping them up and then stepped aside, waving his hand to let us pass through.
"That's what I thought. Thanks for the welcome, Captain!" I said with a superficial smile, happy to get away from the sketchy pilot.
Only one of my heels had made contact with the floor of the plane when I once again started regretting my decision to go on this adventure.
"SANTANAAAAAAAA!" Sugar screamed.
I couldn't even see Sugar yet, but I was pretty sure my eardrums would never recover. Apparently she was some sort of expert at identifying her friends based on a single leg. Being Latina probably made it easier to pick me out from Quinn, I supposed.
I didn't have time to react before a ball of brown hair was launched into my face, four limbs tying themselves around me in the process. Sugar was well aware of my need for personal boundaries, but liked to ignore them for her own entertainment. I stumbled back onto the stairs as a result of the unexpected weight that was flung onto me. I was pretty sure I would have tumbled all the way down the stairs onto the hard pavement had it not been for Quinn steadying me, putting a hand on my back for support.
"Get off me!" I yelled. Well, it ended up being more so mumbled. I learned that an enormous amount of hair all up in your business is an excellent muffler of sounds.
Sugar gave me one more death squeeze and then worked to untangle her body from mine. I snuck a quick glance over at Quinn. Her expression was certainly not a happy one because she knew what was co…
"QUINNNNNNNNN!"
Evidentially, Sugar's proximity to the person had no correlation whatsoever to the volume she used when greeting said person. If my eardrums were simply hurting before, they were now undeniably shattered.
Quinn awkwardly patted the shorter girl on the back. "Hey Sugar," she said unenthusiastically.
Sugar stepped back from us. "I am so glad you two could come! We are so gonna have the best vacation ever! Come meet the rest of the group!"
Sugar had invited four of her college friends as well. I was astonished that she made friends during her first three years at Florida State, but then again I was there on the plane too, I supposed. Perhaps they were only there because of Sugar's wealth; that wouldn't surprise me in the slightest. Quinn and I had decided to go to the University of Florida instead, where the two of us shared an apartment.
She grabbed each of our hands and led us fully into the jet. I tried wiggling my hand out of hers, but she had an astonishing grip lock.
Sugar pointed at two blondes sitting next to each other on the left side of the plane. "That's Sam and Brittany," she said excitedly. The people in question turned around and waved at us.
My eyes were immediately drawn to Brittany's. Holy hell. She had the bluest eyes I had ever seen. It was like I was staring into a vast ocean and all I wanted to do was drown myself in it. With strength I didn't know I possessed, I managed to tear my vision away from those beauties to take in the rest of her face. Light freckles dusted her cheeks and nose and a mega-watt smile was aimed my way. Pink headphones blocked her ears from my line of vision.
I just wished I could see what the rest of her body looked like, but the damn seat blocked my view. What, I couldn't help it. It came with my title, Lesbian Whisperer. I checked out every girl I came into contact with, no exceptions. A girl's rack is a great judge of…character.
One thing for sure was that I wouldn't mind seeing those eyes more often.
"It's great to meet you guys!" Sam said warmly before turning back around in his seat. I had forgotten to even look at him. Too bad I don't care one bit, all thanks to the hot tamale sitting next to him.
Brittany returned to sitting forward in her seat as well. I would guess she was most likely jamming to some bubble gum pop song, based on her head bobbing in beat with the music. It was super adorable.
Wait.
I didn't say words like adorable.
It was fucking sexy as hell.
Better.
Sitting directly in front of them were two brunettes. Matching hair color was apparently the way to determine whom you sat next to on the jet. The post owl that was supposed to give Quinn and I the memo must have gotten lost flying along the way, I guess.
"Up there is Rachel and Finn. Guys, these are my high school friends I was telling you about, Santana and Quinn," Sugar announced.
Rachel, who was sitting in the aisle seat, stood up and walked up to the three of us. I had no idea just how short she was until she stood at full height, which looked to be around that of a hobbit. As soon as she opened her mouth, I could tell I was not going to get along with this vertically challenged person. Not at all.
"Greetings travel companions! My name is Rachel Barbara Berry. I felt like it was important for me to personally introduce myself using my full name because I am just a few short years away from being a major star on Broadway and soon everyone on the face of this Earth will not only know my name, but idolize it because of my unmatched singing and acting talents that deserve, no, require, the world to take notice and admire it."
I couldn't understand how Rachel had said that all in one breath, let alone in such an obnoxiously excited voice.
Finn stood up and moved behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "My baby is incredible and is gonna blow everyone away when she gets to Broadway," he said proudly, Rachel grinning up at him.
Quinn smiled politely at them, while I couldn't hold back the frown that appeared on my face. Hey, at least that was better than me gagging, which I respectfully held back. I knew I was supposed to at least try to be nice to them, but I just couldn't get over how annoying Rachel's voice was, or the abnormal size of her nose. Here I had thought spending so much time with Sugar was going to be the worst part of the trip.
"Now we can all be one big friend's group! Yay us!" Sugar exclaimed, clapping her hands together and jumping up and down.
To my immense pleasure, Rachel and Finn sat back down in their seats, carrying on whatever conversation they were having before Sugar interrupted them for introductions.
Rachel and Finn must have been the oddest couple I had ever seen. It was like the story of David and Goliath, only they fall in love instead of battling each other. Rachel was talking animatedly to Finn, making wild hand gestures and intricate facial expressions. She must have been telling one hell of a story based on her borderline frantic movements. Finn watched her with a dopey grin, seemingly enjoying her tale. I personally didn't think he looked like the brightest crayon in the box.
Quinn and I placed our luggage in a special compartment in the back of the plane. We then walked up the aisle of the plane and sat in the two seats right across from Brittany and Sam. Quinn insisted that she get the window seat because of supposed motion sickness she experienced on planes. I was fairly certain this was simply a rouse to let her have the window, but being the good friend that I was, I obliged her.
OK, so maybe she also gave me 20 dollars and promised to do the chores in our apartment for a month, based on the results of heavy negotiations. I still felt like letting her have the seat was as close to being a Good Samaritan as I would ever get.
I determined Sam and Brittany must be siblings based on the uncanny similarities of their features, possibly even fraternal twins. I'd have to ask Sugar about it later. When I looked back over at them, I noticed they were holding hands, fingers interlaced. They must be really close siblings, or maybe Brittany was scared of flying and Sam was being a good brother by comforting her.
Puck's voice then floated over the intercom, crackling as he spoke. "Good morning Flight 69. This is your awesome captain speaking. This non-stop flight will be approximately 3 hours and 20 minutes in duration. Expected time of arrival is 1:20 pm. We are ready for take off, so please ensure that everyone is buckled up, electronics are turned off, and personal items are stowed. If you wanna read that junk about breathing in bags and where the doors are at on the plane, look at the pamphlet in the pocket in front of you. Ain't nobody got time to go over that shit. Oh, and thank you for choosing the Sugary Sweet."
A click heard over the speakers indicated his speech was over. As much as I felt uncomfortable with Puck, I was glad he didn't review all the safety procedures. They take up so much time and are boring as fuck. Does anyone really listen to them anyways? No they don't.
I looked over to Quinn. She gave me a small smile and turned back to the window, intent on watching the take off. I figured I might as well catch up on some sleep before we landed. I needed to be in prime shape to party hard tonight. With that, I leaned back in my seat and shut my eyes.
So there you have the first chapter. Let me know what you guys think if you feel so inclined. This is my first fanfic, so any feedback would be much appreciated.
A big thanks to ConfessedGleek16, who is going to be helping me with this story! *throws confetti in celebration*
-MB