Oh my gawd! I'm so sorry for the lack of a post recently. Due to several extenuating circumstances, I have been unable to even write on my computer, although I honestly blame the fact that my laptop completely decided to crap out on me. I'm a super sad panda right now… It was my first real laptop. :( But that's beside the point, and at least it's up now, right? Better later than never, after all.
Disclaimer: All rights belong to someone else, mostly to Fox and then to all the writers and whatnot. I own exactly nothing.
CHAPTER TWO
Santana stood quietly and silently just outside of the school's parameter, cigarette half burnt already hanging from her lips as she tried to decide what her course of action had to be. Her arms were wrapped tightly about her waist, trying to warm herself against the nip of chilled air that blanketed their fairly boring, majorly annoying small town, although there really wasn't much she could do dressed in that damnable (yet altogether needed) uniform. She used to tell herself that the noriety she gained wearing it eased the cold, and in a way it did. Mind over matter, after all. But, at that moment, she was just too preoccupied, her mind defiantly trying to figure out just how she was going to deal with the ultimatum she'd just been given. She was silently pacing, brown eyes upon the stretch of pavement that her feet pounded against relentlessly, a hand nervously holding onto the smoldering bud as she tore herself apart from the inside out.
Every year since she'd joined the glee club, she'd always been forced to fold her cards and hang up her pom-poms for one reason or another. Each time, it killed her, giving up both power and status as a McKinley Cheerio just so she could feel like she really belonged somewhere rather than painting on her usual war paint before heading out into the blood bath that one might call the high school hallways. For so long, she hid behind the red and white pleats of her skirt, but being in the ranks of loser Dom meant being true to herself for the first time in her entire existence. Standing center stage, singing her heart out to an audience that was dazed and allured by the unknown power of her siren's call, was just like standing just inside a small, warm and comforting home, one where you'd imagine your family waiting for you, your wife and kids giggling and happy as they run up to you as you open the door and kiss you half to death.
But… the cheer uniform was like wearing a mansion- cold and lonely, and sometimes people feared of revered you for your wealth. Yet that was the allure. Your peers didn't dare cross you, afraid what it would mean for their own social standing, or they remained ever hopeful and vigilant that someone as goddess-like as a Cheerio would someday look upon their insect like existence with something other than a monarch's contempt for the middle and low classes. It was a privileged lifestyle, one which many a girl would kill for, and considering the fact that Coach continued to make space for what was once the Unholy Trinity meant more than anyone could ever know. Sue Sylvester never held spots, and she never, ever forgave someone if they denied her. Especially when said person or people decided to join the one thing she hated worse than even having a heart, and consistently ditched her to aid said thing instead.
Santana paused in her circular course, taking a long drag of the cancer stick she held, tapping her feet anxiously as she stood. She wanted both equally, and yet her coach was demanding that she choose her side accordingly, dangling before her all the things she desperately wanted. With popularity, she didn't have to worry about becoming the next 'Kurt' if her deepest and darkest secret came into the light because no one would dare listen to the gossip about the school's cheer captain. At the very top of the ladder, she could stop any rumor before circulating, putting Jacob Ben Israel in his place before he would even dare to vlog about the salacious news. She could protect herself from the various homophobes that had made Kurt's life a living hell, rule over all of them with an iron fist and maybe even reenact the Bully Whips just to force order and prosperity on each of their asses. She could play straight for yet another year, deny herself yet another thousand chances she might have with Brittany-
Oh yeah, she'd already lost all of them.
The young woman grimaced, troubled brown orbs glaring at the bud that was reaching it's end, her mood worsening as she fumbled ungraciously with a side pocket of her book bag just to find an empty carton at the end of her grasping fingers. She let out a swift slew of curses, most unknown to most of the keen ears of both student and staff thankful to their lack of comprehension when it came to the Spanish language. All in all, she did feel grateful for that, although she was far from thrilled about the fact that she was lacking a refill. Oh, her McKinley peers were not going to like her today…
And then, like a message from God Himself, a single long cigarette appeared before her, held by an unfamiliar pale hand, obviously offering it to the Latina as it remained, still and almost taunting her. Cautiously, she reached out for it, caramel fingers stopping in midair as uncertainty filled her. The woman turned her head, eyes carefully analyzing the seemingly kind person, too jaded after all these years to just trust a gesture without payment in return. Squinting, she narrowed her gaze accusingly, although there was something within her that seemed to recognize the unknown person. Seconds began to tick by, and finally the name and event returned to her, reminding her just how much could really change in just twenty four hours. Emerald orbs watched her, an amused smirk upon her pale pink lips as she wiggled the cigarette, almost as if reaffirming the offer. With a hesitant grab, she took hold of the stick, keeping her eyes upon the other girl even as she lit it between her lips, mindlessly tossing and destroying the old bud beneath the toe of her sneakers as she took a long drag off the new one.
Finally, the silence broke, the Latina wearing a glare befit of the school's head bitch in charge. "What do you want?"
The dirty blond simply shrugged in response, pulling another stick from the mostly full pack in her hand before sliding it into the confines of one of her jeans pockets where it probably had been before. There was a well worn rectangle shape in them, the cheerleader noted, before hearing the tell tale click of a lighter being brought to life. The girl stared listlessly toward the school, her mind briefly elsewhere as she took a deep puff of the cigarette, but as she took the item from her lips, her emerald eyes moved to the ground, her hair falling from it's neatly combed state to hide her beautiful features. "Just wanted to say thanks for yesterday," the girl admitted, her tone and appearance even and seemingly entertained by the expression that the seventeen year old Latina wore. All in all, she was caught off guard, having rarely come across anyone who took her moods with a grain of salt, another blond having been the first and last to have simply chuckled in response. In all honesty, it was a little unsettling and amazing at the same time. The emerald eyed girl kneeled to the ground, seating herself on the chilled concrete of the side what that they'd been standing upon. Once again, her gaze returned to watch the school across the street, a combination of unsaid mixed emotions bubbling within them. The two teenagers smoked in silence, both with things weighing upon their minds, neither relying upon the other to talk about it. It was easy and comfortable, even with the foreboding shadows that loomed almost everywhere around them.
Finally, Amanda spoke once more. "So… was that girl your girlfriend?"
If Santana had been inhaling, she realized, she probably would have accidentally swallowed the burning stick whole. Instead, she had frozen, caught off guard once more, her heart pounding at a rate that she hadn't thought possible. Fear filled her immediately, turning accusingly toward the other girl as the cigarette hit the floor. Her chocolate orbs were alight with fury, hopefully hiding the absolute terror that she felt underneath those probing green eyes that seemed to be laughing in mirth at what was happening. "Why would you-"
"Hey, it's not that big a deal," the young woman chuckled dismissively, waving off the offending anger that she could feel resonating off of her smoking companion with her hand, a never ending grin upon her pink lips as her attention waned to the school once again. "At Crawfords, no one really gave a rat's ass about it. Hell…" The girl shrugged silently, although there was something in her green eyes that said much more than she was willing to. "You'd be surprised how many wannabes there are before the school mixers begin."
The Latina watched the teen beside her cautiously like a wounded caged animal learning how to trust it's captors, her thin yet strong arms crossing in front of her as she registered the information that she'd just been given. Silence reigned between the young duo, the blond entranced by the buildings across the wall, her expression mixed yet unreadable. All in all, the girl was an enigma to her, and being someone who knew the secrets of most of the student populace from a single shared glance usually, the cheerleader couldn't help but feel off kilter around this stranger. Especially after having been caught off guard like she had, asking her about the one thing no one was ever supposed to know. The fact that she even knew… It sent a shiver of panic down the girl's spine, curious and fearful over if someone else might know, and, if they did, why hadn't they been announcing it down the hallways like every other piece of gossip they found.
With an uncertain glare, her fingernails biting into her bare arms, Santana couldn't help but ask "How?"
Amanda turned her gaze toward her from the place on the ground where she had settled herself down, uncertain just what was being questioned. Her head moved to the side slightly, curiosity burning behind those bright orbs of hers. "How what?"
Santana heaved a heavy sigh, cautiously glancing over toward the school just to make sure no one was coming over to yell at the students for smoking near the campus. On the property or not, some people just seemed to need to bother those who were just minding their own business. Besides, it was barely seven in the morning- school didn't even start for another half an hour. With a grumble of distaste upon her lips at the mere thought of interruption (even if she had technically dropped her beloved cancer stick to the dirty pavement), she shot her gaze back to the stranger, her heart racing as she tried to think of just what this girl might want from her. After all, no one did anything without wanting payment in return. Her voice low, her tone somewhat dangerous as she determined just what her situation was right then, she elaborated. "How did you know about… the 'issue'?"
The green eyed she-devil took in a long drag of her cigarette, a torturous move as the cheerleader fidgeted nervously in place, one of her nails making it to her lips as she anxiously began to chew. Eons seemed to pass, and even though reality was that it had only been a few seconds, she couldn't help but feel impatient to hear the answer. After all, what if she had done something that had announced that she was some dyke of epic proportions or something? She honestly didn't think that she would be able to last another with these man-women watching her greedily, asking if she'd join that damn golf club. If she was going to be forced into the flannel uniform of lesbianism, she wanted to at least wait for college. Finally, the girl exhaled, smoke billowing beautifully from her pale pink lips. The Latina chose to chock the odd skip in her heart rate up to how on the edge she felt around this young woman. "Yesterday. In the bathroom. Just… the way you looked at her."
Immediately, Santana stood rigid, her arms held tightly at her sides as she registered the words that the girl had just said. Her heart was still, fear creeping through ever vessel in her body. She didn't even know this person, and vice versa, and yet her biggest fear was playing out directly in front of her- where someone would end up finding out, putting two and two together to equal big bad lesbian. Instinctually, she wanted to run, to leave this place and just pretend like nothing bad was happening. Still, she stood her ground, too proud not to face her punishment head on, trying to convince herself that going up against Moby Dick herself was a far more difficult task than this. Besides, it had to be better than some of the looks her supposed 'friends' gave them. Even while they supported a boy who would someday be the mascot for gay pride parades around the world, the way they looked upon their sometimes not-so-secret touches with uncertainty or mild horror, not quite understanding despite their acceptance of the other person. It was as ironic as it was irritating, but she'd never dare say a word about it. After all, on one hand, it meant that making mention of their blatant yet confusing homophobia would thus out her entirely, and considering the fact that the gossip brigade of McKinley was filled with many of the same divas as the glee club, she would then out herself to all of her peers. Not a wonderful idea. On the other hand, announcing it in front of Brittany… Well, she knew that she wouldn't be able to handle that sad look ever again, knowing all too well how much it would truly break her if she was forced to.
But that was besides the point. What was, she reminded herself, was that this girl knew, and that was enough to scare the living shit out of her.
Gruffly, the young Hispanic girl gritted her teeth, pissed at herself for letting someone in on the big secret, and angrier yet that she was now at the mercy of some little piece of- "So what the fuck do you want? Popularity? To get those retard fucks off your back? I swear to fucking God, if you tell-" Santana paused in her irate rant as a laugh tore through her concentration, and she could only stare at the dark blond before her with surprised eyes. No matter how threatening and scary she might seem to the rest of her peers, this stranger didn't even bat an eyelash at her. Instead, the girl seemed far too amused by it all. To say that she felt a tad put off kilter by this was like trying to explain something everyone knew, like grass color and the light- it felt odd and unwelcome, too strange for her to completely understand it.
Amanda fought her giggles the best that she could, and the Latina did her best to ignore the fact that the girl's voice did sound melodious. The dirty blond stubbed her cigarette butt into the ground beside herself, her bright viridian orbs centering upon the cheerleader with mirth as she quieted herself. "Now aren't we a little excitable this morning," she teased, bringing up her knees to her chest so to lean upon them. Of course, this only warranted another glare from the young Hispanic, but she didn't seem at all bothered by it still. "Hey, I don't really want anything." The almond orbed girl still didn't seem convinced, too jaded after all of her years of empty promises from her family. Soon enough, the odd enjoyment the girl obvious had felt had left her, a solemn look upon her pale features. "I'm happy just to know someone else here…" For some reason Santana wished she knew, the tomboyish young woman didn't make a move to finish her sentence, her gaze becoming far away, directed at the school once again. Curiosity began to plague the Latina, wondering now what exactly it was that seemed to cause this different girl such a strange look upon her cute features.
Carefully, minding the pleats of her cheer skirt so to make sure not even a passerby might see her shorts underneath (Hell, the boys at McKinley had peeved over lesser things), the dark haired beauty set herself down beside her. Her lips pursed, a low grumble coming from her throat, Santana could only heave a heavy sigh. "She's not my girlfriend." Instantly, green eyes were upon her, curious about her emission, and her caramel hand raked through her ebony locks. "She never really was."
"But yesterday-"
"Yesterday, she told me that she's not going to wait anymore," she bitterly spat, frustration forming in her every being- although she knew that it was only her depression getting the better of her. Her pride had been wounded, but her heart felt utterly broken, shattered beyond means. The only reason she was able to get through the last twenty-four hours was because she had forced herself to focus upon the senior year experience she wanted to build. Reinstatement into the Cheerios, as well as being made captain this morning (although she was hesitant to recall the bargaining made for her new position), definitely helped, and she was determined to date up the social ladder once more in hopes to gain what she'd lost. The fact that her self respect was waning was just a minor side effect. Carefully, an understanding hand saty itself down upon her shoulder, and she simply shrugged it off. The last thing she ever wanted was some lesser person's sympathy. "Look, it doesn't matter anymore." Honestly, she wasn't sure if she was saying it to convince the girl or herself. "I'm just going to move on with my life, enjoy kicking nobodies and losers into place from my throne, get a boyfriend-"
"You don't want that." Amanda's green eyes centered upon her, her tone and gaze knowing far too much for someone who didn't even really know her.
Anger erupted inside the Latina, her hands forming fists as she glared accusingly at the person beside her. "You don't know me." Gruffly, she scrambled to her feet, barely even making completely sure that there wasn't some perve across the way wishing to catch sight of the tight boy shorts underneath her skirt. Quietly, but with as much quickness to her step, Amanda rose, calm and certain, emeralds blazing with too many emotions to count- forgiveness, compassion, understanding, sympathy, uncertainty, and a flicker of things that the girl likely regarded and kept deep within herself. "Don't pretend to know me, you stupid fu-"
"I don't need to know you, Santana- I was you." Silence filled the air, between them, a tense feeling bubbling between the duo, both standing tall and unwilling to back down from their passionate beliefs. Still, the Latina couldn't help but feel like she'd just been struck down, pummeled by the words that had left the dark blond's lips. Raising a hand, Amanda pointed directly at the cheerleader, proceeding to poke her decidedly against her chest. "I've dated you." Annoyance seemed to build within her voice, emotions causing it to waver slightly as her hands moved with her shaking fury. "Do you know what happens if you continue this shit? Broken hearts. Mostly yours." Arms falling to her sides, hands in tight fists, the emerald eyed transfer simply glared. Her calm had left her, and for some reason the Hispanic couldn't help but wish she'd remained cheerful. "You'll end up alone, miserable, wishing you changed your God damn mind rather than lose her for fucking ever!" Amanda heaved, slightly out of breath after her irate spiel, unshed tears shining in her green eyes. Santana stood awkwardly, wanting to slap her for even saying such things, but also wishing that she could just cry. Even if she was too proud to admit it aloud, she knew too well that what the girl had said was true. She was conflicted, unsure, and the quiet between them was far too loud.
Carefully, her caramel hand began to reach up- only to stop as the girl turned away, pressing her own hand to her eyes so to quell her shaken emotions. She gave a shaky sigh, stretching and reforming a fist in her free arm several times before she'd finally let her limbs fall to her sides. Almond eyes watched with concern and hesitation, but made no movement. The Latina's palm rubbed absentmindedly against her chilled arms, feeling out the various goose bumps along her skin, letting her mind repeat the other teen's words endlessly. Was she right? "Look, I-"
At an inopportune moment, the school bell gave a shrill ring, signifying that each of the students should start their way toward their classes. Quickly turning heel, Amanda began to check the street, careful not to cross if there might be an oncoming vehicle. Shooting her hand out, Santana's fingers firmly wrapped about the blond's arm, gaining the attention she searched for… yet she was far from sure about what she wanted to say. Her mouth hung slightly up, her brown orbs speaking more words than she knew how to say to the irate young woman. Emeralds stared into earths, reading quietly, cautious and defensive, both girls guarded yet wishing that they could just open up to make the other understand. Still, both were too stubborn to, Amanda's jaw locked in place and Santana glaring. Seconds passed between them, and with an exasperated sigh, the caramel skinned young woman finally and carefully let it go. "Look, I don't know what's gone on in your life, but… I just know I'm not ready. Bee knows that." Running a tanned, shaking hand through her dark locks, the young Latina tried to guard herself from the emotions that were raging within, crossing her other arm before her. "I know I'm stupid for thinking she'd wait, but…" She paused, hearing as her voice grew thick. Even if she'd never admit it aloud, she knew that she'd been bullshitting herself for all of this time. Fierce green eyes softened, a quiet pity within them, and all the cheerleader could do was clear her throat in response. "I'm not strong. I know that." Her voice was quiet, and yet the meaning behind her words nearly blew the transfer student away.
A small, slow smile curled onto the pale girl's lips, her long fingers slowly reaching up from the place it'd laid at her side. They almost touched, kindness and understanding shimmering in the near stranger's orbs once more, but her fingers snapped back in midair as a voice carried through the chilled Lima air.
"Hey!"
The girl's hand withdrew immediately, hiding the things she was feeling deep within those bright emeralds, and Santana could only watch in wonder and curiosity as they transformed into a mysterious deep forest color. Chocolate eyes moved, gazing at the person who had dared interrupt the conversation they were having. Her usual bitch glare in place, she stared at the semi-familiar form of that teacher Brittany had mentioned before, slowing to a stop midway through the empty street. One of the good things about living in such a small town, the Latina mused darkly, was that no one really ever had to worry about being hit by a car. Still, Maloni stood, her stance reminding her just how much she disliked teachers as a whole. Opening her ruby lips in preparation to say something snaky, she stopped herself as Amanda roughly pulled herself away, briskly passing by the educator without a care as to the fact that most saw her actions as disrespectful. Their conversation would have to wait, the Hispanic girl noted with a grumble of discontent, watching as the older woman glanced curiously between the cheerleader and the retreating figure, trying to decide probably which needed the most disapline- and Santana could only roll her brown orbs as the hazel eyed, ebony haired woman turned tail toward the school, shouting after the blond to stop or slow down her pace. All in all, it did figure- no teacher, new hire or old fart, ever had enough balls to try and get a Cheerio in trouble. Considering the fact that doing so meant making enemies with Sue Sylvester, she could understand, although it really was far too trite after all of these years.
Slowly and uncaringly, the seventeen year old sauntered back onto school grounds, taking solace in the emptiness of the hallways, a small smile crossing her caramel features as she allowed the truth of what had just happened outside flow into her heart and mind. True, she and the new girl had ended up bickering, butting heads like rams in a mating frenzy, but the fact remained that someone knew- someone who wasn't herself or Brittany- and they hadn't run screaming, and the girl hadn't even attempted to use the Latina's vast popularity to gain enough noriety so the school bitches left her alone. It was strange, different than what she would have assumed of anyone schooling at McKinley- but it was definitely not bad by any means.
A hand caught her by surprise, grabbing hold of her wrist securely before the teenager was soon wrenched from right where she had been walking. She caught herself before screaming in surprise, recognizing the touch of her captor before the door clicked closed. Carefully, chocolate orbs glanced about the room, noting it to be her English class later on in the day, although empty due to a teacher having the right to an hour to plan or something like that. In the past, they had once staked out the empty room, taking solace in one another with their secret kisses and touches, but now, with the words that had been said yesterday, she could feel a subtle distance that seemed to have grown between them. Honestly, the hurt from this fact rivaled what she had felt when she was desperately grasping for the grains of chances that she'd dismissed due to her fear, watching them slip through her fingers, but she kept her feelings and mask in check. Gently, she did her best to yank her wrist back, crossing her arms in defense as big blue eyes watched her, searching for something she wasn't sure she could give.
"What did you talk about with her?"
The question seemed to tumble off of waiting lips, an unspoken terror shining in those crystal orbs that dazzled her, and the Latina nearly unhooked her arms from herself so that she could bring the girl in and quell the worries she obviously felt. Still, stubbornly, she held tight to her ground, determined not to give in so easily after her heart had been turned away for the nth time since her feelings for the young woman had become known. Santana instead quirked an eyebrow, her eyes narrowing slightly as she tried to keep her cool about the matter. Besides… "What does it matter?" Her words had come out a lot snakier than she had meant them to, her bitterness over being denied shining through her voice. Caramel arms tightened, only to shrug after a short moment. "We were talking."
Brittany leaned back against the teacher's desk, looking just as uncomfortable and unsure as she'd ever seemed before- and for a reason which she couldn't explain, the Latina couldn't help or deny the pang of enjoyment out of it. The dancer's sapphire orbs were looking almost everywhere except at the young woman she had dragged in, something the cheerleader noticed but said nothing about. It was just easier to, her mind abuzz with frustration she'd been ignoring or pushing down and away for at least the last twenty-four hours. She was hurt, unbelievably so, having believed (or, at least, hoped) that the beauty she loved would wait for her to come to terms with her sexuality, and now that she was stuck adoring someone who was willing to fall for someone else, all she was left with were feelings that could no longer be reciprocated. Quietly, the girl asked, "What were you talking about."
Santana pressed her thumb and forefinger against her chocolate orbs, a frustrated sigh leaving her lips, her jaw jutting slightly as she did her best to keep hold of her tempted anger. She was just lashing out, she reminded herself with a slow inhaling breath. Last thing she needed to do was scare her away- especially if she didn't have a really good reason to do it. "Don't worry about it," the Latina dismissed with a grumble, her arms unwinding and falling to her sides. "Look, I have to get to class, so if there's nothing really pressing to talk about then-"
"She's really pretty."
The head cheerleader raised an eyebrow at the blond once more, confused by the statement that had just been made, uncertain as to whom or what she was talking about. She quirked her head curiosity, squinting her brown eyes while her lip curl with hesitation. "What?"
"She's really pretty," the taller girl repeated, her crystal orbs silently analyzing something very interesting on the other side of the classroom, her fingers tight around the lip of the desk she'd been supporting herself upon. Still, she made no move to turn, to look at the woman who was what she assumed was her best friend, her teeth catching her lower lip nervously. "That girl," she added, trying to shed light on the mystery which the dark haired girl had yet to unravel. Silence settled awkwardly between the duo, stretching tighter as seconds began to tick by with still no answer of recognition. "That one yesterday. In the bathroom."
Instantly, it dawned upon her, and the Hispanic girl couldn't help but grow defensive, her eyebrows knotting and her teeth grinding lightly as she quietly tried to quell the burning anger that was lighting within her heart once more. She didn't have the right to say something, she thought, biting her tongue hard, unwilling to say something she couldn't take back later on. To the rest of the world, she'd leave the filter off and force them to take her constructive critiques whether they wanted to or not, but this girl… She honestly couldn't bring herself to demean or belittle her no matter how hurt or angry she felt. After a moment, Santana had once more wrapped her arms about her waist, unsure where to put her hands after half of a year with jeans and pockets, but also just as unsure what to do with herself with all of her mixed feelings. As calmly as she could, she answered, "Amanda?"
Brittany clenched her teeth tighter together, something the normally happy girl never did, her features scrunching together lightly as if she'd just been sucked punched in the gut. "You're on a first name basis with her?" The taller girl tightened her hold on the large desk, sapphire eyes moving to halt on the long caramel legs that stretched from the pleated skirt that she wore.
The Latina shrugged, feeling slightly deflated, wondering yet knowing the truth to the question that had been asked without the girl even asking. Still, the embers of her rejection remained. "Maybe."
"You never do that." It was a statement to the obvious, and the cheerleader couldn't help the chill of undeniable sadness as it hit her square in the chest. She was still mourning, still yearning for the things she knew she couldn't have, and yet here the blond was, offering her mixed signals as a consolation prize. Coffee colored orbs turned toward the wall, looking for the spot the dancer had been keen to look at moments before rather than focus on the beauty before her, too stubborn and too uncertain of her answer to give one. Moments continued to pass them by, the silence thick and almost unbearable, and neither moved, too afraid what it would mean if they got up to leave. Finally, with a sigh filled with worry and discontent leaving her pale pink lips, a troubled look upon her face, Brittany asked softly, "Are you interested in her?"
For the first time in what felt like eons, earth met water, the browns in the Latina's eyes shining with surprise, shocked that the idea had even crossed the blond's mind. Santana's eyebrows furrowed in hurt. Did she really think that little of her? Of her feelings? The corners of her ruby painted lips lowered, and she fought a wave of tears as they threatened the corners of her eyes. She would not break down. She would not start screaming. She definitely would not give the girl the satisfaction of being able to physically affect her so. Once again, anger tore through her as she suppressed her sadness, and her mask slipped into place like it always did. "Why the Hell would it matter? You gave up your chance to be all in in this." Her frustration was showing, and for once she didn't particularly care what the blond thought or felt about it. "I'm single, and if I wants ta get my lady kisses on with that hot piece of ass, then ya best believe I will."
Brittany looked and felt deflated by Latina's word, looking almost as if all of her worst nightmares were starting to come true. "San-" She reached out for the caramel hand that continued to lie loosely at her side, only to have it briskly and roughly pulled from her reach.
"You don't get to, Brittany." Her words were firm, tears beginning to prickle the corner of her eyes as she pointed angrily at the dancer. "You. Don't. Get to." The blond retracted her arm, her gaze unconfident as she kept her eyes upon the shorter girl, her features resembling a puppy who'd lost their way home. The look alone nearly broke the tanned young woman, but she'd been too hurt for too long, and she just couldn't bring herself to forgive the knife that she felt stabbing through her broken heart. "I have to get out of her." Santana turned, lithely escaping the reaching hand that had shot from the dancer, her heels quickly clicking down the halls as she moved down them. Tears were falling, her entire body throbbing in ache as her steps became swifter with each footfall she made. A short stride later, she had moved into a run, just wanting- no, needing- to get the Hell out of this school. Lunchtime performance or not, she just had to escape.
The Latina was brought to an abrupt stop as she ran right into a slightly taller form, and she felt and looked too broken to fix herself in front of this unknown person. Instead of back away, pretending that she was fine, the cheerleader simply latched on, sobbing brokenly into the button-up lavender shirt she already knew that she had recognized. Strong feminine arms wrapped tightly around the crying girl, accepting the weakness that she showed, offering only soft consoling noises, gently rubbing her hand on the Latina's back so to quell her heartaches in the middle of the empty hallway. "It's okay," Amanda cooed softly, and for some reason she couldn't place, she found solace and comfort in them. "It's okay," she repeated, this time more tender than the last, curling slightly into the embrace they now were in.
Over Santana's shoulder, emerald eyes met cautiously with a pair of sapphires, only to slowly fall as she curled into her embrace entirely about the girl in her arms.
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Just barely made eleven pages this time around, although it's not like I meant it to happen. I just like writing, and this chapter was actually kind of fun to write while I was working. Especially since my manager's didn't care as long as I was doing my job otherwise, and often commented positively on my work ethic. It was awesome! They even asked for me to apply next year. XD I wish Halloween was year long, or at least that those people (owners and managers) had stayed in Florida with a job for me to do.
Anyway… There's been some movement in the story, although admittedly not much time wise. It's funny that I'm still technically on the first episode when we're seven in already. But it's for development! At least that's what I keep telling myself… ^_^ Moving on, I'm really proud of myself for cracking down and finally re-typing this up (since it was half written on my now broken laptop), and I hope to have the third chapter up as soon as possible. It just depends on my schedule, and the availability of my mother's desktop. Here's hoping!
Also, before I forget, if you want to ask what happened after that 'Hey' at the end of the first chapter, guess what? I'm not telling'! Well… at least, not right now. I'll backtrack to explain later, I promise. I just like cliff hangers. XD