A/N: Wow thank you for the lovely response. I was not expecting it, especially when this is the first time I'm trying my hand at humour and at writing in this style. So thank you very much for the follows, reviews and favourites. I'm still trying to figure out how to reply personally to reviewers. Would someone be so kind to tell me if that's possible?
Lastly, just a little warning for a teeny bit of sexual innuendo in this chapter. I hope you enjoy this as much as the last chapter.
Quinn fumbled for her phone when it rang. Her eyes darted between the coffee in her right hand and the half-eaten sandwich in her left. Quickly stuffing the sandwich in her mouth, she managed to get her phone out from the back pocket of her jeans without spilling any of her beverage.
"I'm lost," Santana's voice greeted her when she finally put the phone to her ear, "And what took you so fucking long to answer."
She tried to speak but only managed an inaudible gurgle because of the food in her mouth. She chewed rapidly but as always, Santana was impatient, "Hello? Helloooooooo? Was that a fart? Eeeew gross! Did you just butt-dial me? I hate you," was all she said before she ended the call.
Quinn sighed. It probably wouldn't do her any good to tell Santana that she was actually the one who had called her and that any insults would have been irrelevant had Quinn really butt-dialed her because well, Santana would have been speaking to her butt.
Five seconds later, her phone rang again and thankfully, she had managed to swallow all of her sandwich, "I'm late for class Santana. If you're lost, Google map is your best friend."
"Whoa! How did you know I called to ask for directions?" Santana sounded impressed and for someone so sly and cunning, Quinn couldn't for the life of her understand how she could be such a birdbrain sometimes. This was the same person who had concocted an ingenious plan to infect her with mono in high school.
"Like I said, late for class. I'm going to hang up now," Quinn checked her watch and sped up to a slight jog.
She had been burning the midnight oil the previous night, catching up on some of her lectures and readings. Because she had switched her major from Drama to Psychology, she had taken up more than the required number of courses to make up for lost time so as to graduate on time.
"No wait! Don't hang up! I'm at Yale and I'm like completely lost. Where the heck is the Psychology school?"
Quinn's eyebrows shot up in surprise and she ground to a halt, "What? What are you doing here?"
She looked at her watch again. It was almost 9.30am, which meant that Santana must have been up at the crack of dawn to be here at this time. Strange. That girl never woke up before noon if she could have her way.
"Well, you said I never visit so, here I am!" Santana declared, sounding absolutely too delighted with herself.
"But it's a weekday! I've classes!" Quinn spluttered, "You should have at least called me first."
"I'm calling now aren't I?"
"You should have called earlier!"
"God, you're so difficult to please." A pause, then, "So are you coming to get me or not?"
Of course, she backtracked to one of the entrances to meet Santana, even though that would make her fifteen minutes late for class.
When she saw her friend, she was surprised to see that Santana wasn't decked out in one of her ridiculous tight dresses that provided little warmth. When it came to fashion, Santana wasn't exactly known for common sense and Quinn didn't much feel like sharing her jacket today. So, she was happy to see that Santana was for once dressed up for the February frost with a beanie pulled over her hair, a black quilted jacket, black tights and boots. The all-black ensemble would have been rather ho-hum (for Santana that is) if not for the red scarf wound around her neck. And Quinn had to admit her friend looked good, really good, even with the pair of nerdy glasses perched on her nose.
"I'm not skipping class," was the first thing Quinn blurted out when she approached Santana from the back. Knowing her, she would probably try to persuade her to play hooky in favour of getting drunk or something like that.
"Yeah, duh. I know that you're boring. Where's my hello kiss?"
Quinn rolled her eyes but could't help the small smile that tugged the sides of her mouth, "Come on. I'm late for class."
She hooked her arm through Santana's to drag her in tow. Over the years, she had learned that the only way to get Santana to hurry was by physical means, "What's with the glasses?"
Santana's hand reached up to adjust the black frame on her face happily, "I figured it's a Yale thing you know? It helps me to fit in. Makes me look more hippie, don't you think?" Of course Santana would associate glasses with hippies instead of intelligence, "I was aiming for the Hogwarts look. I wanted to go with the green scarf because I'm totally a Slytherin but red is more my colour, not that I can't rock both."
"Why did I even ask?" Quinn shook her head in exasperation as she dragged her friend along.
PSYC 160b, The Human Brain
"God can he get anymore dull?" Santana groaned as the lecturer droned on in a monotonous tone. They had entered the lecture hall not five minutes ago.
Quinn dug an elbow into the Latina's ribs when she started to nod off, "Don't you dare draw attention to yourself," she hissed, "You were the one with the insane idea to come crash my classes."
Santana groaned again and rubbed her face. She yelped when she knocked her own glasses askew, "Heh. I forgot about this," she tapped at the frame before fixing it back in place, "Who needs to know about the brain anatomy anyway? The only anatomy I need to know is what I can see in the mirror," a mischievous grin suddenly flashed on her face, "Well, that and…"
Knowing that the one-sided conversation was about to head down gutter lane, Quinn was glad when Santana got distracted before she could complete the sentence, "What are you looking at ugly?" she snarled when she realised the male student in front of her had turned around to give her a dirty look.
"Do you mind? Some of us here are trying to pay attention."
"Geez, what crawled up your ass and died?" Santana pelted his face with the eraser dust she found on the table and laughed when he spluttered with shock and indignation.
"Santana!" Quinn grabbed Santana's wrist before she could flick another speck of dirt at her classmate and mumbled an apology, "Sorry for that. She gets weird when she has cramps."
"Quinn!" It was Santana's turn to complain as she yanked her arm out of Quinn's tight grasp, "You know our periods don't come till next week!"
"Will you behave?" Quinn scolded, swiping off all the eraser dust from the table so that Santana was left with no ammunition to continue her assault on her poor classmate. But even she had to admit that her classmate's expression had been priceless.
"Now what crawled up your ass and died? Is it contagious or do all you Yalies have a stick up your ass?"
She sulked when Quinn merely glared at her and managed to keep quiet for all of four minutes before her phone buzzed, signaling an incoming message. Bad mood immediately abated, she picked up her phone and laughed softly at what she read, immediately typing out a response amidst more stifled laughter.
After Quinn had tried to ignore Santana's fits of giggles for the fifth time, she finally snapped, "How did you manage to get through your classes in Louisiana?"
"I didn't. That's why I left right?" she intonated as if Quinn is stupid and chuckled again when she looked down at her phone.
Pimple face had angrily gathered his things and moved a few rows back after fit number 3 and if Quinn could have her way, she would have done the same if not for the fact that she knew Santana would simply follow her. Some battles were just not worth fighting and this was one of them. Besides, someone needed to be there to rein Santana in from causing trouble.
When Santana laughed again, Quinn was unable to contain her curiosity any longer and so she leaned over to read the text on the phone.
I met a girl last nite who charged by the inch.
Seriously, who does that?
Perfect deal for you then!
It took a moment for the innuendo to sink in but when it does, Quinn's eyes widened in mortification, "Who are you talking to?"
Santana ignored her when her phone vibrated again. Screw you Lopez. You took a ride on the Puckasaurus and you know how expensive it'll be.
She snorted loudly and this time, to Quinn's horror, the lecturer looked over, "Ladies, is there a problem?"
"Sorry professor," Santana raised her hand apologetically, "There was something in my nose. Please carry on. Your class is fascinating."
The lecturer looked at them sternly once more before thankfully returning to his lesson. The moment he looked away, Santana snatched up her phone and began typing again. You know what you would be able to afford?
"Are you sexting Puck?"
"Eeeew Quinn. Gross. Let's put it this way. If I'm sexting, you wouldn't have to ask okay?"
A few seconds later, Puck's response flashed on the screen. What?
If she charges by performance.
Against her better judgment, Quinn snickered and Santana looked downright proud of herself.
PSYC 126b, Attraction and Relationships
"Now this is what I'm talking about," Santana crossed her legs and stretched, earning a few appreciative glances from the male students when her blouse rode up to show her toned belly, "This is the kind of class that you should be taking all the time. It's applicable in real life. But I could totally teach this though. I'll even do it for half the cost."
Quinn scoffed in disbelief, "Attraction isn't the same as seduction."
Santana looked pityingly at Quinn for a moment then patted her on the thigh, "There, there. We can't all know everything. At least the professor is hot. Imagine taking a class like this with a fat old fogey. That would be nauseating."
"Yeah," Quinn agreed without thinking, "A lot of the female students voted him for hottest professor of the year."
"A lot of the male students would vote me for hottest professor of the year," Santana added unabashedly.
When Quinn looked at her in disgust, she shrugged, "What? It's true."
She suddenly sat up straight and stared at Quinn, "Oh my gosh, you totally voted for him didn't you? I mean I don't blame you. He looks like a model. In fact, if I didn't like lady parts, I would totally get all up on that."
"Santana! He's a professor!"
Santana looked genuinely confused, "What's your point?"
"It's unprofessional for a teacher to date a student?"
"Sex isn't dating."
"It's illegal!"
"Again, I don't get your point. Besides," Santana's mouth fell open and she slapped Quinn's arm lightly, "Oh my gosh! You're mad because you're totally into him! Okay fine, chill, I won't get all up on that anymore."
A few students around them turned and looked over.
"Shhhh! Will you keep it down," Quinn smacked Santana's stomach with the back of her hand, causing the latter to double over in pain, "And I do not have a thing for Fitz."
"Oh my gosh! You're even on first name basis with Professor Fitzgerald. You do totally have a thing for him. You are so filthy. I am so proud of you," Santana teased when saw the red tinting Quinn's cheeks.
"I do not… Santana! Stop it!" Quinn tried to snatch her pen back when Santana started drawing hearts on her textbook, scribbling Q.F. and P.F in her loopy handwriting.
"Look you even share the same second initial."
"You are being ridiculous! I don't have a thing for Professor Fitz," Quinn smacked her a second time, this time over the head, and managed to reclaim her possession, preventing further graffiti.
"There's no need to be shy. He is…. Eeeew Quinn, your professor is married! He has a wedding ring. I am so ashamed of you," Santana threw her a dirty look and turned away from her with crossed arms.
She did not speak to Quinn for the rest of the lesson.
PSYC 350a, Autism and Related Disorders
A soft snore sounded from the left of her and Quinn just wanted to drop her head on the table in embarrassment at the attention it attracted.
"Sorry professor, my friend has narcolepsy."
So much for letting the sleeping dog lie.
PSYC 304a, The Mental Lives of Babies and Animals
"That answer is… actually correct, Miss..?" Professor Hertz blinked, unable to hide his surprise and disappointment that the Latina student had gotten the answer right. She had spent the last hour of his class being nothing but disruptive.
The female student smiled proudly, "Lopez. Santana Lopez"
Hertz scanned through his papers and frowned when he did not find her name, "I don't see your name on the register."
"Oh, that's because I don't actually go to school here. I'm just crashing for the day."
"Hey Q, wait up!" Santana called out as she struggled to keep up with the intense pace the Yale student had set, "Are we finally done for the day? How many classes do you actually have? I mean…"
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Quinn whirled around in anger once they were a safe distance from her school, "You just got us, no, me thrown out of my class! I go to school here okay? I have friends here and my professors recognise me."
Santana frowned, " It's just one class. It's no…"
"I don't care about the numbers! I care about my reputation here as a student and you're embarrassing the hell out of me okay, as you have been for the entire day!" Quinn swiped at her fallen bangs angrily and poked Santana in the chest with her index finger, "I have worked my ass off getting into this school and you're not ruining this for me."
She was glad to see that Santana at least had the decency to look ashamed, "Look I'm sorry okay? You've just been so stressed ever since school started and I just wanted to…." she mumbled apologetically and scuffed at the sparse field with her boot, "I didn't mean to embarrass you okay? I just wanted to give you a good day."
Quinn looked at her incredulously. When she spoke, her voice was laced with sarcasm, "Well you've certainly done a great job."
"I said sorry okay? I didn't mean it," Santana glanced at the ground, hands in her jacket, looking completely vulnerable and uncomfortable, "Brittany called earlier," she blurted out.
Quinn didn't want to, she really didn't want to but with that confession, some of the anger deflated out of her. Santana always could get little crazy when it came to Brittany and Quinn understood crazy. She understood crazy very well. Perfectly in fact.
"And?" she prompted with still a trace of anger, "Are you two getting back together?"
Santana shook her head, looking immensely relieved that Quinn had taken the bait, "No. We talked and figured it would be better if we just remained best friends."
"And you're okay with that?"
She shrugged, 'It'll be hard but yeah, I think I'm okay with that."
Quinn eyed her carefully and when she saw that Santana meant it, she nodded, "Is that why you came over today?"
Santana looked up surprised, "Oh no. Britt called me when I was on the way here actually. I meant what I said earlier. I'm not working at the bar tonight and since you said I never visit, here I am," she repeated her earlier words and smiled tentatively, "So, we okay?"
Despite herself, Quinn felt her chest warm at Santana's words. She had come down all the way to New Haven on a weekday just to spend some time with her. She probably couldn't see the humour now but she was sure that in a few months or so, she would be able to look back on this day fondly. There were some funny moments after all.
"I hate you," Quinn finally conceded, "Don't think I don't know you mentioned Brittany just to soften me up," Santana's guilty look confirmed that hypothesis and Quinn punched her arm once, twice, thrice. It was only when Santana winced that she looped her arm through hers and started walking, "Okay, now we're okay. What do you think of Mexican for dinner?"
All the course names and numbers can be found on Yale's website.