Here is chapter two for you guys. Hope you enjoy :)

If you have a Tumblr account, you should follow me for someawesomeBrittana lovins (mostly all re-blogged, not mine, I'm not that talented lol) to hold us all over during this hiatus Fox is trying to kill us with for the next few weeks. You can find me at causewithfeelingsitsbetter(dot)tumblr (dot)com

Thank you all again for reading and, like I said, comments/reviews/suggestions make me a happy girl :)

It had all started when she was fourteen. She had started to realize that she was different than her friends, she wasn't... normal. Her parents spent most of their time traveling for work, so, ever since she was a little kid, when it was time for summer break, they decided that she needed to "get out and make some new friends". Santana knew even at a young age her parents were sending her away to basically be babysat all summer so they didn't have to worry about her, but she didn't really mind. She kind of liked Camp Erie. And she did make friends. Summer after summer, year after year, she hung out with the same group of girls. They swam and hiked and played soccer during the day, and built tents on their pushed-together beds at night, huddling underneath with flashlights, telling ghost stories. But as the years progressed and they got older, the ghost stories turned into gossips and giggles about boys.

Santana listened to her friends talk about their first kisses and stayed up all night "on watch" when one of the girls snuck out to meet up with a boy in the middle of the night. It was fun for her because she enjoyed seeing her friends so happy, but she herself never had any kind of a crush on a boy, let alone wanted to sneak out to meet one from the camp to do only god knows what with them . Sometimes she felt like maybe there was something wrong with her, maybe there was a reason all of her friends got asked out but never her, and it made her a little self conscious. So one day at lunch when her friend Jamie told her there was a cute boy, James, who was interested in her and wanted to "meet" at midnight by the lake that night, Santana didn't know what to think. Her friends, wide eyed and mouths gaping in envy, all gasped and told her how lucky she was to be asked out by James. He was older, sixteen, and totally badass, they intrigued her. She felt special, wanted, like the rest of the girls. So she smiled along with them and said she'd do it. She would sneak out to meet this James because it was clearly the thing to do.

At 11:45 that night, Jamie applied the last of Santana's lip gloss while the other girls held hands and squealed with excitement. When she had their approval, she slipped silently out the door and down the cabin steps, tip-toeing across the grass and towards the lake. It wasn't until she was out of sight of the cabin that fear finally struck in her chest. It hadn't occurred to her until this point that she actually had to go meet this boy, out in the middle of the dark, alone. She had been so absorbed in her friends' excitement and her own desperation to be accepted and wanted like they all were that she didn't even realize what she had gotten herself into. What was going to happen when she met him? What was she expected to do? Was he going to try to kiss her? She found that the thought of him, or any boy really, trying to kiss her was absolutely appalling to her. But she couldn't let this stop her. Stop being such a baby, Lopez.

When she finally got to the huge old tree stump by the lake, the popular late-night meeting spot, James was already there.

"Hey," he greeted her, nonchalantly.

"Hey," she replied awkwardly. She was glad it was dark because she was sure the heat burning in her face had turned her bright red. If James noticed, he didn't let on one bit.

"So, I've seen you a few times in the mess hall." His voice was low, almost a whisper, as he moved towards her. "I've been wanting to ask you out for a few days now, actually."

He moved closer to her and Santana backed up into the tree trunk for support. It was short and she found herself almost sitting on it, her hands gripping the edge, the uneven bark uncomfortable under her tight squeeze.

James, who obviously found this somehow inviting, pressed himself up against her as he continued. "I like your look, Lopez." She swallowed hard and closed her eyes as she felt his hot breath on her neck. "You're hot."

Her eyes shot open when she felt a hand on her thigh, slowly inching its way towards the bottom of her shorts. Her heart pounded so hard that it throbbed in her ears and she wondered how he possibly couldn't hear it. This couldn't be it. This couldn't be what all her friends did when they came out here. How could this ever be enjoyable to anyone? She had never been so uncomfortable in her entire life. She felt his fingers creep to the edge of her shorts and her eyes darted around the dark scene, desperately trying to find an escape.

"You nervous, babe?" He whispered in her ear. She felt the hot nausea rising in her stomach. She tried to answer, but the lump in her throat made it impossible, so she settled for a weak nod. He let out a short, low laugh and kissed her ear lobe as he slipped one finger up the leg of her shorts and hooked her underwear. The sudden unexpected intrusion made her jump and cry out, startling James enough that he retracted his hand and took a half step backwards. Santana took the opportunity to step to the side, distancing herself from him. "I thought I heard someone," she lied as she took another step back.

"I didn't hear anything. There's no one out here, babe," he assured as he took a step forward towards her. "Really, I promise, no one is out this time of night."

"No, I.. I heard something. I can't.. I can't, I'm sorry, I can't," Santana sputtered as she clumsily stumbled through the grass, almost losing her footing on the frosty morning dew and falling to the ground. She turned and ran through the darkness, and by the time she got back to her cabin, her lungs burned and screamed for air so badly that she wondered if she had forgotten to breathe the entire way back.

After taking a minute to compose herself, Santana crept up the steps and cracked the door open slowly, trying to avoid making any incriminating noises for the counselors to hear. All the girls in their cabin had passed out on their beds, still dressed, and not one of them stirred except for Jamie, who awoke with the final click of the lock after she had closed the door. She rubbed her eyes and looked at Santana, squinted and looked at the clock, and then looked back at Santana. "It hasn't even been an hour, what happened?" she asked. Santana told her that they met where they were supposed to, but as soon as stuff started happening, they heard someone in the woods and were too scared to continue. "Aw, man, that sucks! It was probably just another couple… but that's alright, there's always tomorrow night."

Tomorrow night. Suddenly the nausea was back, and it was everything she could do to not throw up right there on the spot. Instead she smiled and nodded. "Yeah, tomorrow, for sure." Satisfied, Jamie said goodnight and turned back over on her bed, falling back to sleep almost instantly. Santana pulled off her shorts and replaced them with a pair of fuzzy ducky pajama pants, which she had borrowed once at a sleepover with her best friend back home, Brittany. Santana crawled into bed and lay facing the wall. She wanted nothing more at that moment than to go home, to be away from this place, to sleep in her own bed, to see Brittany. She told herself that first thing in the morning she would go to the nurse's station and tell them she wasn't feeling well the last few days, that it was getting worse, and she would ask to go home. Even if she had to call her aunt in Pennsylvania to come get her and go stay with her, she would. Anything to never have to face James ever again.

Hugging her pillow tight to her chest, Santana slowly exhaled everything she'd been holding in for the last hour. Tears running down her face and soaking her pillow, she silently cried herself to sleep the last night she ever stayed at Camp Erie.

It had been almost three years since her traumatizing experience at camp. She started high school after that summer. Santana watched all of her friends walk down the hallways holding hands with their boyfriends, listening to them talk about their boyfriends, watching them flirt with and kiss their boyfriends. Boys flirted with her, boys asked her out, boys tried to make out with her. And every single time, she felt that same feeling of repulsive disgust as soon as they laid a finger on her. But as much as she loathed the thought of being intimate with boys, she feared even more that idea of being rejected and made fun of by her peers for being a prude. So she went along with it, all the while wondering why she couldn't ever enjoy the closeness, the touching, the affection all her friends relished.

The first time she had sex had been a nightmare. After a less than enjoyable date at Breadstix, the guy had invited her back to his house, to which she lamely replied "sure." They ended up on his couch, watching Saturday Night Live reruns, making out. Once he started stroking her thigh and whispered "my mom won't be home till late", Santana immediately knew what was coming. He had heard the rumors about how easy she was, rumors she had secretly started herself to look cool and experienced, and he wanted his share of the action. Until this point, she had successfully avoided ever actually having to have sex with anyone. But tonight, she thought as her heart sank into her stomach, was the end of that. Maybe it won't be so bad, she tried to reason with herself. Maybe it'll actually be enjoyable. I mean, he is cute..

It was, however, anything but enjoyable. Between the awkwardness of the couch, his inexperience, and her lack of enthusiasm, it was a disaster. When he started trailing sloppy kisses down her neck, she closed her eyes and tried to think about anything but the current situation. His rough, stubbly facial irritated her neck, and the willpower it took to resist pushing him away and scratching it gave her chills. Although her eyes were closed, she was painfully aware of his every move. She silently allowed him to pull her underwear down from underneath her short skirt, and when he ran a single finger through her dry folds, she managed to feign a small, somewhat convincing moan. When she heard him unzip his pants, her stomach turned and she frantically wished that she hadn't eaten so many bread sticks. The last thing she needed was the whole school to know she had thrown up on a guy while they were having sex. Totally not hot.

Her mortifying thoughts of throwing up were instantly forgotten and replaced by a sudden shooting pain searing through her body, originating from between her legs. A sharp gasp escaped from her throat and she bit down on her tongue to stop herself from crying out. Grunting in her ear as he thrust into her, Santana gritted her teeth and willed herself to go on. Seconds felt like hours. After a few minutes, he pulled out, licked his fingers and ran them between her legs. She found that it hurt a little less when he reentered, but it was still a far cry from enjoyable. After what seemed like an eternity, it was finally over. He sucked in a heavy breath, jammed himself into her one last time, and then collapsed on top of her, panting.

"That was really great, but I have to go. You gonna take me home or what?" Santana said as she rolled the guy off of her onto the floor, picked her underwear up off the end of the couch and slid them back on, ignoring the ache between her legs. The truth was though, she really didn't particularly want to go home. She just wanted to get out of there. She picked up her phone and texted the first person that came to her mind: Brittany. To Santana's relief, Brittany had not gone out that night. So after she collected her things, she had the guy drop her off at the place she had considered her second home for so many years now.