AN-

Thank you guys for all you guys for reading. This is my first fanfiction ever, but fortunately I have a very talented Beta who gives me the best advice ever. Please keep reviewing and actively reading.

-Ella

Chapter Three

Antwan Lopez

The text changed everything to Santana. Her mind went blank for second. She forgot about the dumb project that she had been assigned to do with the one person she hated the most, she forgot she had almost been a victim of rape, and most importantly, she forgot that she had just fooled around with yet another straight girl.

'Straight' girls were everywhere in Lima. Scratch that. Very confused girls were everywhere in Lima. Santana had took it upon herself to make them question themselves, she lived for manipulating people. She adored the power she had over them. But she had one rule when it came to her little sexual conquests:

No fucking friends.

She lived by that rule. She always had and she always will. This thing she did to Quinn, making her basically cum on the spot, was a one time thing. She kept her flings anonymous. And that was that.

Plus its Quinn.

Santana thought to herself.

Quinn loves boys.

Santana adjusted her car mirror as she examined herself though the glass. On the car ride home from Mike Chang's she had managed to sober up a bit. Her driving was anything but flawless, but there weren't many people driving in the streets of Lima. And although there were still traces of catastrophe left her eyes, she was decent enough.

She read the text message again, admiring its familiar vagueness.

Antwan:I'm home.

She'd recited it to herself again and again. It helped Santana keep driving when all she really wanted to do was pull over and burst out crying. Not for herself, but for Puck, she loved him like he was her brother. Finn had messaged her earlier about his condition. He said that Puck only needed to take some antibiotics for the pain, which helped ease her worries. She kept telling herself that Puck would understand, he would understand why she wasn't at the hospital waiting for him the minute he'd get out. He'd get it.

When she had gotten out of her car, she saw a tall figure standing in front of her apartment complex. A man dressed in an army combat jacket and matching camo pants. His figure was tall, strong, built. As Santana inched closer, the man dropped his cigarette and stepped on it with his shoe, the weight of his dark combat boots putting out the blame. He turned around, finally acknowledging Santana.

"Mija." His voice was soft yet raspy. Although the man spent most of his life in America, his Latin accent shown through. "You look like shit."

Both him and his daughter laughed together. They both had a deep love for dark, mean humor. It was one of many things the shared wrapped her thin arms around his muscular body as they embraced.

"It's not like you look any better in that itchy penguin suit, General smoke-A-ton Antwan." He chuckled at her. In their small family consisting of two members, they both insulted each other on a regular basis."I didn't know you were coming back tonight anyway, a warning would have been nice."

"Two things." He held up two fingers sarcastically. "Número uno, a respectable child would refer to me as Dad, and not make fun of my uniform, which attracts all the ladies."

"Wanky." Santana winked at her dad and he smiled sheepishly, cheeks red.

"Número dos, my mission in Iraq ended early, I wanted to surprise you Tana. it seems like you've been busy." He looked her up and down. Taking in her smeared mascara, the bags under her eyes, her loopy posture. "Did you have a fight with your nonexistent girlfriend? Or did Puck talk you into going to another one of those sleazy gay bars again?" Obviously, dark humor was a genetic trait in the Lopez family.

Santana did her best to fake a laugh , but her smile quickly faded. She couldn't just pretend everything was okay. And her dad saw that.

General Antwan Lopez took his daughter's hand. "Hey, I'm here now." He assured her. "What happened tonight?"

Mike dropped me off at my house at 11 am the next morning. He assured me everyone who had gone to his party wouldn't be going to school. They would be at home like me with a gigantic hangover and many regrets.

I opened the front door of my house. My mom sat in the living room reading the paper. Her eyebrows rose as I entered. "Quinn Lucy Fabray" She started. "Where in Christ's name have you been?"

"I told you, Mike was having a party last night." I said entering the kitchen searching for a non-aspirin.

"That doesn't mean you can just skip school!"

"Mother, I have literally maintained 4.0 grade average for all my life. I have amazing extracurriculars like glee club and the cheerios. I am basically guaranteed early acceptance into Yale. One day won't matter."

I took the pill and swallowed. She looked at me, her facial expression softened. She put her hand on her head. She took a deep breath.

"Ever since I left your father, I have always felt like I need to be more strict with you, just like he was."

I furrowed my eyebrows at the mention of my dad. He was and probably still is ashamed of me for getting pregnant. One second I was his perfect little Quinn and the next I turned into Satan's spawn. Just like that. And for what? A beautiful baby that was now giving a middle aged women a second chance at being a mother? I had no regrets.

" I just keep forgetting that you're already such a great kid."

I smiled brightly at my mom. She knew the true definition of unconditional love, just like what I had learned through glee club. And I loved that.

She gave me a quick hug and kiss before she left for work. I got my computer out to check Jacob Ben Israel's trashy blog site. The headline spoke for itself: Former Quarterback Noah Puckerman Gets Brutally Beat for Defending Lesbian Bestie.

The article went on stating the facts of the last night. They also brought up Santana being outed as well as Puck and I. Our days as a couple, my pregnancy, the breakup, his meltdown, my breakup with Puck. And the rest was all history.

In that moment my phone rang, I picked it up without looking at the name.

"Chapman just emailed all of us, the dickwad is saying since most of us didn't show up for his class today he's punishing us by making us write a thesis paper on our project. Due tomorrow."

"Good morning to you to Santana." I heard a loud clash in the background.

"What the fuck did you just do, Puck?!"

Obviously Puck was there with her, which wasn't unexpected.

"I don't know about you but I need a good grade on this project." She continued after a large silence.

"Is Puck okay? After last night and all?" Mike said he didn't need switches or anything , but I was still worried about the guy.

"Why don't you come and see? I'll text you my address. Don't take too long."

"Wait, you moved?" But I could get answer I heard the other line drop.

Without even thinking I took a shower, put on some decent clothing, did my hair, and headed straight for her house using the new address.

I needed to talk to her. I've been trying to keep from thinking of this new found feeling Santana gave me. But it's been eating away at me.

I deserved an explanation.

You could hear video game music playing from inside as well as some Latin music. I had to knock with all my strength just to be heard.

A very tan looking man came outside dressed in a wife beater and some cargo shorts. He looked like he had just hopped out of bed. It took me a second to realize who it was.

" Mr. Lopez?" My eyes were wide as I met his confused facial expression.

" Quinn Fabray." He had Santana's cocky smirk on. "Won't you come in, Chola?" He opened the door wider inviting me in. I reluctantly stepped into the messy apartment.

" I haven't seen you in along time, Quinn." He closed the door behind him. And then turned to me with this questioning gaze. He refused to break eye contact with me. "I didn't know if you and Santana were still friends."

"I take it you saw the video then?"I didn't even need to ask that question,I knew he knew. Him and Santana had always been close. They shared secrets, spent time together, sometimes they even went shopping were direct replicas of each other, both thought relatively the same way as the other.

"But I also know That my daughter was the one who pushed you to post it. I know you were just trying to get even with her."

"It was never my intention to ruin her life , Mr. Lopez." I replied simply with the truth. " I was just mad."

"Although neither of you came in with bad intentions, you were both wrong in what you did. Just don't hurt my daughter again, she's been through enough."

I felt the tension in my head spread to my eyes again. I nodded again. I understood, and so did he.

Another door in the apartment suddenly opened. Puck stood there in the doorway next to Santana. His mouth open.

"Quinn!" He shouted. He ran up to me with open arms, trapping me in a sweaty bear reaction wasn't what I expected. This was guy wouldn't talk to me for months because of Beth. What changed?

After a quick conversation with Puck about his medical condition, Santana reminded me why I was originally here in the first place.

" All right Chicos." Santana intervened pointing toward Mr. Lopez and Noah. " You guys need to leave so me and Quinn can go get shit done."

"Don't worry, I'll go take Puck out for Breadstix." Mr. Lopez walked with Puck to the door of the apartment. " Hopefully that cute blonde still works there." He winked at his daughter and her cheeks turned a shade of red.

" Get it, Antwan." Puck hollered as he slammed the door behind him.

And they were both gone.

They left me and Santana alone in a small little apartment. We worked for a good thirty minutes on our thesis paper, trying to present the topic in the best light. Racism was already a cliche, and Santana refused to be ordinary.

" It needs to be raw." She whined. "Chap-balls doesn't want to read another corny project about how racial discrimination barely exists today, or how we've come so far. ' Cause that's bull."

"Damn girl. You've got rage." She was about to speak when my stomach made a very strange noise. It was then I realized I hadn't had anything to eat since yesterday morning.

She laughed as she went over to the side of her apartment that had a small little kitchen, she held a box of pop tarts and I nodded. She was turned around putting them in the toaster when she spoke.

"I told Puck you helped me out last night when I was drunk, that's why he was being so nice to you." Her voice was light again. It's like she didn't want to admit she actually helped me out.

"Why would you do that?" She turned around now with a confused look on her face. "Why would you help me?"

" Because. I owe you one, after last night." I raised my eyebrows." Last night I was drunk. And horny. Very horny. And I might of took advantage of someone. Someone that I really care about."

I knew the message she was sending. The thing about me and Santana is that we were both bitches. We both knew what one-night stands were. She was trying to imply that her running her hands on my legs was something I didn't need to question, or take seriously.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone what you did." I expression went from a nervous frown to a charming smirk. " 'Cause I would hate to be another Brittany."

"Wanna know a secret?" Her eyebrows furrowed. She had a very serious expression on her face. "Me and Brittany got farther than you and Sam ever did."

I froze for a second. Was she implying what I think she was implying? She just smiled guiltily, as if she could read my mind. The toaster beeped. She turned around immediately.

"Oh my God." I couldn't believe it. That would explain the deep connection between them. That would explain half of the things she said on that video. " I thought she was straight?!"

"Unfortunately, she is." She turned around with two plates in her hand, each with a strawberry pop tart. She gestured to a wooden table in the corner of the apartment. We both sat down.

I took a bite of my pop tart. Having food in my stomach felt good. It made the hangover headache go down."We had an..arrangement.".

" I'm not following." She rolled her eyes at me, as if I should know what that means.I looked down at the table and realized I had eaten my pop tart while Santana hadn't even touched hers. My stomach growled again.

Obviously the sound was audible because the next thing I know she put her pop tart on my plate. And I ate every bite of it before she even opened her mouth to talk.

"We had sex whenever we felt like we wanted to. Which was a lot. She just wanted to experiment, see what feels good I guess. But we would never tell anyone about it. It was just this thing we did just for the fun of it. At least thats what she wanted it to be"

"But that wasn't the case for you?"I asked rhetorically. Expecting the answer to be no.

"Sure I loved her. I always will. But sex with her was hot. I didn't need people to know about it. It was hot because it was a secret. Secrecy is sexy. But of course, you screwed it up. "

"I'm sorry Santana." I kept it simple.

"Don't be." She replied. "I mean I was mad at first but the I realized people would of found out eventually."

"How many people know about this? About you and Brittany sleeping together?""Including you?" She took a very dramatic pause, as if she was counting the people I her head."One person."

I looked at her expecting some kind of joke at the end. But there wasn't one. She was smirking at me with a dumbfounded facial expression.

"Guess that makes you feel special huh?" She laughed and then got up taking the empty plates to the sink."Well you are. At least to me." She mumbled that last part under her breath but I was lucky enough to hear it.

I got up and stood behind her as she watched the dishes. I tucked the strand of hair covering part of her face behind her ear. She put the plate down. She smelt like vanilla and coconut, maybe it was her shampoo. I placed my hand gentle on the sides of her harms. She was dressed simple, a loose white blouse and some black skinny jeans. The blouse felt soft on my fingertips. "Do you wanna know a secret?" I whispered, my warm breath hitting her ear.

Her shoulders tensed up.

"I actually liked what you did to me last night. It made me feel really good. I get why Brittany wanted what she did." The whole moment was mesmerizing. Last night times 100. Santana spun around.

"Bad. Idea. Quinn." Her words were slow yet harsh. And I now I wished I didn't put myself out there. Putting yourself out there was never a thing I had luck with, and this was evidence why.

I walked to Santana's couch, where we were originally working. If my dad taught me anything, it's that you should never show your reaction after defeat. Changing the subject helped in this case." If you want something more raw, we should include current events,like the controversial shooting of Mike Brown or the illegal choke hold that Eric Garner was put under. It will give us a new edge."

She nodded, making her way to me slowly. "You were always good at doing the unexpected, Quinn."