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Here's the next chapter. At the end I've included another authors note, where I answer some of your anon questions.

I hope you guys enjoy! And as always, I would love to hear what you think!

Chapter 2

Plus, I know if I wait any longer, paused at the top of the steps, my dad is going to think something's wrong and come try to help me. He wouldn't be helping me though, he'd be holding me back. And I don't want to be held back any longer. Not by my parents, and not by my fear. I can do this. I just have to take things one step at a time.

And right now, the first step is to open the doors to William McKinley High School, and finally enter inside.

The second step is to remember the phone in my hand, and my two friends on the other line who are hiding somewhere in the building, waiting for me. Unfortunately, at some point in my journey from my parent's car to the front lobby of the school, I'd accidentally hung up on them.

"Woops," I whisper, frowning at the closed cell phone clenched in my hand.

Before I can pop it open again, another voice interrupts and I jerk my head upwards, spotting a tired looking, middle aged woman seated behind a fold out table opposite me. "You're late," the woman tells me sternly, motioning me towards her.

I quickly shove my phone into my pocket and cross hesitantly towards the table, my eyes scanning an open notebook laid out on its surface. It's blank, and has no instructions for me, but I can tell by the woman's stare that I'm supposed to do something with it.

"I don't-"

"Write your name, your grade, the time, and the reason you're late," she interrupts me again, and I can't help but wince at the annoyance in her voice. I don't even know this woman, but the fact that I've upset her bothers me. I don't like when people are angry with me, for obvious reasons.

Taking the pen from next to the book, I quickly jot down the required information, pausing only briefly to consider what to put for why I'm late. I settle on "missed the bus", and look up at the woman for approval.

She eyes me warily and turns the notebook towards her, reading over what I've written. "Santana Lopez?" she says aloud, her voice contemplative, like she's trying to recall where she knows my name from.

I shift uncomfortably in front of her, knowing exactly where she'd have heard my name before; on the news. Or in the newspapers. Or on the lips of those inclined to gossip, which is pretty much everybody in this town.

"Oh. Oh..." She glances up at me, her face no longer hard and strict, but sympathetic, pitying. If I knew better who she was and what she did here, I might have rolled my eyes at her. I hate when strangers look at me like that, like they know me. Or what happened to me.

They don't, though. I mean, they can speculate, obviously. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what happens to young girls that are abducted off the streets.

"I'm glad you're okay," she tells me, making me even more uncomfortable. "I remember watching the news about your disappearance. I wouldn't let my own daughters out of my sight for a month."

Well good for them, I think. They must have loved that. "Is that all?" I ask impatiently, anxiously tapping my hands against the tops of my thighs as I try my best not to get angry, or upset.

This isn't new. Ever since people have become aware of my return, they seem to think it's okay to talk to me about what happened, or what they think happened. Or to talk to me as if they cared about me. It's one of the reasons I refrained for so long going out in public. My parents thought it was because I was afraid, which isn't untrue, but a lot of it had to do with my not wanting to come into contact with people like her.

People like her made it impossible for me to forget; even for a little while.

"Don't worry about getting written up, we all understand." She starts filling out a small, pink piece of paper, handing it to me when she's finished. "But give this to your first period teacher, so they don't mark you as late."

I take the paper and force a smile to my face, even though a part of me wants to crumple it up and throw it back at her. The hell she understands. If she understood, she'd be assigning me detention or something. You know, whatever it is that actually happens to kids that are late.

"Um, thanks," I tell her instead, turning quickly from the table before I say anything else. Before I say something that might actually get me in trouble.

She lets me go without another word, and I find myself heading left down the hallway that should lead me towards my locker.

Brittany had somehow managed to secure me the one directly next to hers, and had spent the better part of half an hour giving me directions towards it over txt message. This was a few days ago, but I remember her instructions well enough, and soon find myself standing in front of locker number 67.

At this point I realize I'm still holding the pink late slip, and quickly crumple it up in my fist. I have no intentions of going to my first period class, and wouldn't have given it to the teacher even if I did go. Squashing the paper into my back pocket, I fish out my cell phone just as it begins to vibrate and chime.

"Shit," I hiss, quickly turning it to silent, before glancing up and down the hallway to see if anyone has heard. The hall is empty save for myself, and I relax a little and flip open my phone. I immediately spot a txt notification from Quinn, but ignore it and instead open up my inbox and search for the one I'd saved that contains my locker combination.

I guess starring it for easy retrieval wasn't the best idea, seeing as I tend to star most of Brittany's txts. Quinn txts two more times before I finally find the right one and turn my attention to my locker. Brittany had warned me that they tended to stick, but mine opens on my first try, and I smile hugely at the surprise I find inside.

Instead of it being empty, the red metal walls are lined with photographs of myself, Brittany and Quinn. Pictures from cheerleading camp, from various sleepovers, from that one Halloween we'd gone out dressed as the Powerpuff Girls. There's also a pink and red plastic mirror on the door; the frame covered in purple X's and O's, and below that is a basket filled with what appears to be rainbow glitter pens.

"You guys..." I whisper in astonishment, completely blown away by the surprise. Forgetting about the books I need to put away, I quickly open up the txts Quinn had sent me, rolling my eyes at my friend's continued worry. I immediately type out a reply, deciding not to mention the locker yet, and instead simply ask where they are so that I can find them.

It doesn't take long to get a response, and I shut my locker and head off in the direction of the girl's locker room.

00000

It takes me longer than it probably should have, finding the girl's locker room, but the school is a lot larger than I remember it being back when I'd toured it as in incoming freshman. Well, the first time I was an incoming freshman.

Pushing open the door, I'm immediately overcome by the scent of bleach and other cleaning chemicals. And rubber, for some strange reason. Letting the door slip shut behind me, I wrinkle my nose at the offensive odor and slowly make my way past the rows of lockers, peering left and right as I attempt to find my friends.

They find me first, and before I can reassure myself that these people are safe, and it's okay for them to touch me, Brittany has bounded from out of nowhere and attached herself to me in a great big bear hug.

"Santana! You're here!"

What happens next undoubtedly scares the girl more than it does me. I strike out at her, aiming for her face, but missing by a few inches. I'm disoriented in this unfamiliar room, and she's come at me from behind, leaving me unbalanced and unsure of my target.

"Brittany! Get off of her! What are you- Brit!" Quinn's voice fills the room, causing the figure attached to me to loosen its grip before letting go completely.

At this point I've calmed down enough to realize where I am, and who's been touching me, and immediately feel my body heat up with shame. I'd almost hit Brittany for giving me a hug.

"Santana, are you okay? I am so sorry, I don't know why she did that," Quinn asks from a few feet away, and I slowly turn to look at her. She has Brittany's arm in her grasp; the taller blonde looking absolutely terrified.

"Sanny, I didn't mean to scare you, I was just so excited to see you," she starts to explain, her voice trembling, on the verge of tears.

I'm still breathing heavily, and probably shaking as well. But I push away the desire to yell at them for startling me, and instead move forward, wrapping my arms around my two best friends in the whole world. They stiffen momentarily, but eventually return the hug.

"Brit, you can't do that to me," I explain gently when I pull away.

Brittany's normally pale face is deep red, and damp from the tears she wasn't able to hold back. I'm not mad at her, but I know she's more upset with herself, than at me for trying to hit her.

"B, don't look at me like that," I sigh, wiping at her cheeks with my fingertips. She pulls away from me after a few seconds, stepping back behind Quinn and wrapping her hands around the girl's elbow. Quinn glances over her shoulder at her, and they share a brief, silent conversation before turning back to look at me.

It hurts more than I want to admit, seeing them act this way with each other. So closely in-tune with the other's thoughts and feelings. It's how Brittany and I used to be. Quinn was my friend, sure, but she and I never had the connection that I'd shared with the other blonde. But now, I can't help but feel like the intruder on their special bond.

Dr. Holland keeps telling me I should tell them how I feel. Except, how do you tell your best friend that you feel like you've been replaced by your other best friend? At least, without coming across as jealous and needy.

I mean, shouldn't I be happy that Brittany and Quinn grew closer while I wasn't around? They could've easily drifted apart without me there as the glue holding them together. And I know Quinn would've been okay if that'd happened. She was still somewhat of a "new girl in town", so would've eventually made other friends.

Brittany, on the other hand...

"Sanny?"

I shake my head at the girl's voice, focusing my attention back on the here and now, and not on the what ifs.

"Sanny?" Brittany asks again, her eyes still brimming over with tears. "Are you okay? You went away again. In your head."

I sigh and rub at my temples with the heels of my hands. "Yeah B, I'm fine, I was just thinking," I tell her, half expecting her to then ask me what I was thinking about. She doesn't, though. She just continues to stare at me as if I'm about to fall apart. "Please stop looking at me like that," I plead in exasperation, turning away from the two and crossing over to a nearby bench, sitting down.

They follow me over, though Brittany is still hiding herself behind Quinn, causing me to groan in frustration at the girl's behavior. I want to yell at her to knock it off, but I know from experience that it'll only make things worse.

This is the reason I didn't want to see either of my friends right away, after I was recovered. I can remember laying in the hospital bed, clutched tightly to my mother, while they waited outside in the hallway, wanting desperately to see me.

They waited for nearly two days outside my door before my father was able to convince them to go home. That he would call them when I was doing better and wanted to see them. He didn't call them for almost two months.

"She can't help it San," Quinn explains softly, moving to take a seat next to me. Brittany follows and sits on Quinn's other side, still holding tightly to her elbow. "She's terrified of upsetting you again."

I sigh and rub my palms over my face, collecting myself. I'm not mad at Brittany, I'm just disappointed. I thought we were past this, but apparently not. "It's okay B, you didn't upset me," I reassure the girl, removing my hands and leaning forward so I can look across at her. "You just startled me."

Brittany looks to Quinn, who nods slightly, before she gets up and moves to sit next to me on the bench. She reaches for my hand and gently takes my pinky into hers, looking up at me for approval. "Is this okay?"

I tighten my pinky around hers and nod. "Yeah Brit, this is perfect." I smile at her, and she smiles back, causing an entirely different type of weight to settle in my stomach. She's so close I can smell the strawberry Lipsmackers on her lips, and my eyes shift down to stare at them before I'm conscious of what I'm doing.

Brittany just giggles and leans forward, placing a kiss on my nose. There's a tug in my stomach, and in my heart, when I realize I'm disappointed she hadn't been aiming for my lips. She seems to sense this, and looks away, making me feel even worse.

We still haven't talked about that kiss we shared during cheer camp; a mere two weeks before I was kidnapped. I guess back then we'd thought we'd have the rest of our lives to figure out what it meant. I guess we were only half right.

"So did you go to your locker yet?" Quinn breaks the silence, probably sensing Brittany's unease as well. I don't know if Brittany has told her about the kiss.

"Oh my God, I loved it! You guys are insane. When did you even have time to do it?" I ask, knowing there was no way they could have decorated it all this morning.

"Oh, Coach Sylvester gave me a key to the building ages ago," Quinn explains. "Well, technically it's supposed to be just for the gym and the locker rooms, but it gets me into the rest of it as well." She shrugs at this before continuing, "Brit and I snuck in last night and put it together for you." She's beaming at me now, obviously excited that I'd liked their surprise.

"Well, thank you," I bump my shoulder against the girl and she bumps me back. Quinn and I were never as touchy feely as I was with Brittany, but I think she preferred it that way. I think we both preferred it that way. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to see it before class started."

Quinn raises her eyebrow, as if suddenly remembering that I was late. "Your dad wouldn't let you out of the car, right?" she asks, smirking. She's been over my house enough times the past few months to know how my parents sometimes treat me.

I laugh and shake my head. "He started crying. But don't tell him I told you that, I think he was embarrassed."

"Or worried," Quinn offers, shrugging empathetically. "We were worried when you didn't show up before the bell. Poor Brittany was convinced you were take-" she trails off, her eyes going wide as she realizes what she was about to say.

"Taken again? Abducted? Kidnapped?" I ask, rolling my eyes as Quinn winces at my words. "Guys, saying it out loud doesn't mean you're jinxing me or anything." I try my best to keep my re-emerging annoyance to a minimum. "It's not going to happen again just because you talk about it." I tell them, as well as myself.

"I didn't think that," Quinn quickly shakes her head. "I just didn't want to, you know, trigger you."

I frown at this, but manage to keep my anger in check. It's not as if Quinn hasn't triggered me before by something she's said, or done. But she's not supposed to censor herself around me. That had been one of my conditions before I'd allowed her and Brittany to come visit me for the first time.

"Yeah well, let me know how that goes." I retort, glaring down at my sneakers.

There's a sudden chirp and Brittany pulls her hand from mine, reaching into the waistband of her skirt, where she's apparently tucked her cell phone. I keep my head down, but watch from the corner of my eye as her face lights up and she begins typing out a reply to whatever txt she'd just received.

"What, are you sexting your boyfriend?" I ask jokingly, my voice laced with sarcasm. I can't help but be jealous that she's suddenly talking to someone else. Someone that's making her smile, instead of cry.

"No, he just wanted to know why I'm not in homec right now. He'd saved me a seat," she responds, before placing her hand over her mouth and gasping.

I turn to look at her fully now, my eyes no doubt as wide as hers as I stare at her in shock. Brittany has a boyfriend? Why the hell was I only finding this out now? She shakes her head, looking over my shoulder at Quinn, I guess for help covering up her lie.

"San, please don't be mad at her."

"Who?" I ask, ignoring Quinn's plea as I glare angrily at my friend.

Brittany's eyes are watering over again, and she clutches her phone in her hands in front of her mouth. She's obviously afraid to tell me.

"Who?" I ask again, my voice louder this time. When she continues to stay silent, I shoot to my feet and scramble past Quinn, needing to get away from them so I can sort through my thoughts and feelings.

How could Brittany not tell me she has a boyfriend? We've spent nearly every weekend together for the past three months! How could she have kept this from me?

I hear Quinn calling my name, but ignore her again and shove open the locker door, stepping out into the hallway.

"Welcome to McKinley! Loser!"

Immediately, a wall of frozen liquid slams into my face, and before I can even register what it is I've been hit with, I collapse downwards into a ball and completely black out.

Authors Note 2:

About the home-schooling, since I never said how long she was home-schooled for originally, you can't assume it was long enough for her to be able to start as anything other than perhaps a second semester freshman. I'm purposefully being very vague about dates and time periods and the lengths of things so as to make it more mysterious what happened to her ;)

About Brittany vs Santana as the main character, I do agree that Brit would have fit better as the victim/survivor in this plot. I was actually going to write this story four times, where the main difference is which girl it happened to, and how they react/adjust/cope... I didn't think I could commit to that though, so I just went with Santana, since I tend to like her more and find writing her easier for me.

Although I'm having a ton of trouble writing in first person present tense. More so the tense than the pov, so I apologize for the awful grammar that I'm sure is sprinkled all throughout this fic. It's harder than I thought it would be, and I might actually go back and shift these two chapters into past tense so that my future chapters are easier for me to write. Seriously, the have/had, was/is, say/said distinctions are a lot harder than you'd think.

I guess that's all... next chapter will hopefully be up in a few days. I'm also working on the next chapter of "A Freak Like Me" for those that are waiting on that one :D