Disclaimer: I still do not own Glee; it is the property of Ryan Murphy and Twentieth Century Fox Television, among others. I wish I did own it, there would be way more girl-on-girl kissing in the show if I did. Thanks for the reviews and favorites so far everyone!

Chapter 2: Baby Steps

Santana ducked into the library during her lunch period. She wasn't that hungry and all the eyes staring at her just made her appetite worse. It had been a week of this: she put on a brave face when she walked around school, but whenever Santana got the chance she would find someplace to go where no one would think to look for her. On Tuesday it was under the bleachers (and she had to kick those Skanks out from under there, so it was almost more effort than it was worth). Wednesday was the auditorium, but too many Glee kids would be in and out of there all day, and she couldn't stand to see their looks of pity. Finally, it was Friday, and she thought of the one place that hardly any of the student population of McKinley High ever went: the library.

Oddly enough, Santana did not feel the need to hide her identity from anyone who was already close to her. Santana's parents had been so much better about all of this than she had feared. They told her they were truly sorry that her life would be harder, but they understood that being gay was something she couldn't control. The hardest part of the whole conversation was when she finally got up the nerve to ask them if they still loved her. Her mother immediately took her into her arms, and her father wrapped his arms around both of them. "Of course we still love you, mija. Don't ever doubt that we will always love you." At those words, Santana had broken down, and they had all just stood there holding one another. The tableau was broken when her ass-hat of an older brother, Antonio (who was a college student in Columbus but was home for a break), came in and shouted, "What is this, a love-fest? Where's my bad-ass little sis?"

He'd hugged her when she told him as well, though he admitted he'd known for a long time since he had seen the way that she acted around Brittany. Flinching when he mentioned her name, Santana managed to recover quickly enough, which is when she finally realized that he had let her freak out about telling him and he had known all along! She hit him in the shoulder for that and chased him around thehouse shouting "Tony! Get the hell back here so I can properly kick your ass!", while her parents sighed and shook their heads at the antics of their two children. They'd ended the night all hanging out in the living room watching TV together, and Santana had never felt safer or more loved.

Despite her family's support, outside of school was even worse, because the adults in this small-ass town were even bigger judgmental asses than their kids were. She'd managed to mostly stay indoors, but even the drive home got her way more looks than she liked. Snapping out of her memories of the last couple of days, Santana shook her head and thought, Fuck them. I don't need any of them. I have my family, and soon I'll tell mi abuela, and I'll be gone from this shit-hole in less than a year. With that encouraging thought, Santana turned the corner around one of the bookshelves and saw the one person she had really been avoiding this week: Rachel Berry. Just my fucking luck.

She must have made a slight noise while thinking this, because before she could try to make an escape, Rachel looked up.

"Santana, how are you?"

"Fine, midget. What are you doing here?"

"Well, this," she said, pointing to the book she was holding, "is a book, which you can sometimes find within the room you are currently in, also known as the library. I am reading it, which is usually what one does with books. What are you doing in here? I didn't think you knew where the library was."

Santana was about to go off on Rachel when she noticed the small smile on her face. Did Berry just tease me? What sort of alternate universe have I landed in this week? "Yeah, yeah, I'll have you know I currently have an A- average – and before you ask, no, it's not just in Spanish – and I read books too, when I feel like it. I just figured you spend every free moment singing when you're not using that trap to tell us, again,how awesome you are."

Rachel smiled, "While I do find that most of my free time can be better spent continuing to perfect my vocals, every once-in-awhile I am tempted to branch out."

Santana snorted, "Right, 'cause you need to 'perfect' your vocals."

"Was that an inadvertent compliment, Santana? Careful, someone might hear you and think you're going soft."

"Eh, I'll just smack 'em down like the little lemmings they are." Santana slumped into a chair across from Rachel, realized that she was tired of standing, and that since they had already started talking she really couldn't run away without losing face (at least in her own mind). After a slight pause that almost became awkward, Santana asked, "So, what're you reading?"

Rachel lifted her book and Santana's jaw dropped: It was an autobiography. That in itself was not odd, but the author and subject was what had Santana's eyebrows rising toward her hairline: Berry was reading The Way I Am, by Eminem. "Really?"

Rachel laughed, "What, you thought it would be a Barbra Streisand book? I'll admit, I do read those books as well, but I have a passion for many types of books, and Eminem is a fascinating man and a profound lyricist."

Bursting out laughing for the first time in a long while, Santana said, "Leave it to you to make Eminem sound classy. You can't just say he kicks ass and you like his music?"

"What fun would that be?"

Rachel shrugged, but Santana was beginning to realize that Rachel Berry liked to poke fun at people way more than Santana originally thought. It was only now that she had a chance to see the mocking up close that it was becoming more and more obvious.

"Well, just as long as you don't go around telling people that 'you're gonna pop-a-cap in their ass' or anything, it's all good."

Rachel looked shocked, "Of course not, Santana! It is clearly your job to 'cut a bitch' when necessary. I wouldn't want to get in the way of you being able to make use of those hojas de afeitar in your hair."

"When the hell did you learn to say "razor blades" in Spanish?" Jesus, Berry just keeps fucking surprising the shit out of me!

"Well, while Mr. Schue is a moderately decent Glee teacher, he's terrible with Spanish as I'm sure you've noticed. Due to his – and the school's – total inability to realize this, I was forced to take extensive courses outside of McKinley. I have a number of different languages in my repertoire as I have taken language classes – along with dance classes, theater classes, and singing classes – my whole life. You never know when you might need a foreign language for a play, and of course, I know extensive Hebrew and Yiddish. However, I would be lying if I did not mention that I have made sure to perfect my Spanish so that I can realistically be aware of how close you are to truly trying to kill me. Plus, I did dream at one point that I might be able to throw insults back at you in Spanish, but I've never gotten up the courage."

"Well, I haven't tried to kill you in a while, so I suppose you're safe." Santana was more (grudgingly) impressed every minute by how much she really didn't know about Berry.

"Yes, I have not needed my Spanish to defend myself against you in quite some time; though I don't think even knowing Spanish would have protected Finn from the slap you laid on him last week."

Santana froze. This was not okay. They could talk about some things, but not this. Santana was not ready for this. "Back off, Berry."

Rachel sighed, "It's okay, Santana. You don't have to tell me anything unless you want to. I was just making a comment about Finn's inability to dodge small girls with big vendettas against him. It's not too surprising though. He is pretty tall so I'm guessing that probably makes him slower to react."

Santana breathed a sigh of relief as she realized that Berry was going to let them shift the topic elsewhere than her breakdown. "Hey, I'm nowhere near as short as you, Berry! It is pretty funny that he doesn't ever seem to see it coming though. Do you remember the time that his face slammed into the door when he tripped over his own feet? That was…"

Rachel sighed and nodded along with Santana's story, not really focused on the words but rather on the fact that Santana was talking to her like a normal person. She had hoped to be able to get her to open up more about "the incident," but she supposed it would take more than two real conversations for Santana to allow herself to be vulnerable. For now, Rachel was going to enjoy listening to her voice and hopefully get Santana to smile again. When she had burst out laughing earlier, Rachel's breath had caught in her throat. Santana had such an addictive laugh, and Rachel could only hope that she would get to hear it at least once more today. Baby steps, Rachel, baby steps.

Author's note: The autobiography is by Eminem and it is published by Plume. I do not own any part of it.

Additionally, I know some basic Spanish, Japanese, Ancient Greek, Italian, and a couple of Hebrew and Yiddish words. Therefore the Spanish I use in this will most often be translated by Google Translate so I apologize in advance if I mercilessly butcher the Spanish language. I am trying to pepper the story with Spanish where I think it might make the most sense for Santana and her family who are supposed to be fluently bilingual. Plus, it is fun to throw in a phrase or two for Rachel every once-in-awhile.

Please review!