Santana Lopez the Invisible, that's who.
Mercedes texted me in the morning to tell me that Santana wasn't in homeroom. That didn't really mean anything though because there were a number of places she could have been instead. Like Miss Pillsbury's office asking to have her classes changed. Or in Coach Sylvester's office asking about rejoining the squad. Or maybe she just didn't feel like going to homeroom and got Mr. Schue to vouch for her.
I didn't see her in the hallways on my way to AP English. I thought maybe she'd be there when I walked in the room. The only people in the room when I got there were Mike and Mr. Lincoln. Then I waited out the excruciating three more minutes of passing time as everyone in the class but Santana walked into the room. Five minutes into the class, Quinn passed me a note:
Hey,
Santana isn't coming today. She might be here tomorrow, but she has waived absences for the rest of the week. I'm sorry. Except that you're not supposed to care anymore, remember? Just thought I'd remind you.
Q
She was absolutely right. I wasn't supposed to care, except that I thought about her all day. I was worried about her all day. If I'm this way when she isn't in school, how the hell am I going to pretend she doesn't exist when she is in school?
I'll find out today, five days later.
Turns out she took the school up on all three of the waived days. Quinn took all of the work she's already missed.
It should have been me.
UGH! Stop that!
That is exactly what I need to stop thinking in order for this to be successful. She needs to know that she hurt someone else in all of this. I think I just need to convince myself that I'm not being selfish. Because in the back of my mind I'm constantly reminded that her mother died and how can I possibly think of myself in all of this?
Because I'm all I've been around. Because I know how I feel and I have not a single clue as to how she feels besides associating me with the downturn her relationship with her mother took. If she'd just spoken to me once, I don't think I'd feel as awful as I have for what's been a month and three weeks now. She did this to me and even if it wasn't out of malicious intent, she needs to know that her actions, or lack there of, have had repercussions.
I will not actively pursue her attention and I'm not waiting for her anymore. I have to live my life. I have a lot to concentrate on. Letting this dictate my life is no longer an option.
I think I've been sitting in my car for long enough, staring at the school. I know she's here today because I can see her car. It's right in between Brittany's Sentra and Quinn's Beetle. I grab my bag off of the passenger seat and hug it against my chest as I brace myself for whatever is waiting for me in that building. After I take few more breaths, I push open the door and step out of my car.
The walk across the parking lot from Senior Row to the doors of the school feels like it lasts forever, but when I glance at my phone before walking through the doors, I see that it's only been a minute. In order to avoid getting jostled by the flow of traffic, I have to keep moving through the doors into the hallway. The crowd around me disperses, having different destinations once they're through the doors. I look around quickly before continuing forward, just to make sure I can't be surprised by anything. As I move forward and around the corner to my locker, I keep my eyes moving. Somehow I manage to get there unscathed.
Homeroom. English. Calculus. Astronomy. Photography. Lunch. History. Glee. Home.
That's the day. I just need my English and Calculus things now and I can stop back here before Astronomy.
Okay.
Homeroom.
I close my locker once I'm satisfied that I have everything I need. I turn towards the classroom my homeroom is in before I look up from my bag. My first mistake of the day. There she is. Her locker is diagonally across from mine. I'm lucky enough that she's still facing hers, giving me enough time to gather myself… and to look at her. She's so thin and… broken. This is the closest I've been to her in the longest month and three weeks of my life.
"Hey, Rachel," I hear Finn's voice to my left but I don't look towards it. Instead, I keep my eyes on her because I know she heard my name. She stopped pulling the books that Quinn had probably delivered to her out of her bag and stayed there frozen, staring into her locker.
"Hi, Finn," I respond letting my eyes linger on Santana for a just a second longer before turning to him.
"Hey," he smiles his doofy, yet charming smile, "I was just wondering…" his eyes shift to his left, clearly spotting Santana, then he lowers his voice, "… oh, this is kind of awkward."
I turn my head back a little and catch Santana watching us from the corner of my eye. "No it isn't," I say with as much defiance as I can muster as I turn back to Finn and loud enough that she'll know that I know she's listening, "what's up Finn?"
"Ookaaay…" he looks over towards Santana again and then slowly back to me, "I was just wondering if you might want to start looking for songs for Glee Club. I think we should start early if we want to be ready for Nationals this year… and I really feel like I have a lot to make up for."
"That is a great idea, Finn. I'd love to," I answer. It is a good idea considering we usually choose our songs extremely last minute and our track record with that plan is a losing one.
"Cool! You have third lunch right?" he asks with excitement and that same smile that made me swoon for some reason two years ago.
"I do," I answer and no sooner is it out of my mouth that I hear a locker door slam not far behind me.
"Okay," he starts backing away, "see you then in the choir room?"
"Sure."
I watch him turn and walk away before I turn to go to my own homeroom, which probably starts really soon.
I wasn't expecting her to still be there. I guess I had just assumed she walked away after she slammed her locker. My second mistake of the day. She was just standing there staring at me with all of this sadness. Not that it's a cure, but all I could think about doing was kissing it all away. For a millisecond, I thought my legs were going to take me to her and abandon my resolve to move along.
This time, I really am saved by the bell. It's the last one before we're marked late to school. While I might not get perfect attendance for all four years of high school, that doesn't mean I can't have it for my senior year. Finding that resolve, I lift my head a little and press my lips tightly together before sharply turning my body away from her.
I have nothing to say to her anyways.
I don't turn to look at her as I walk away, but I know she's still staring at me. I can feel her gaze on my back and it makes me burn inside. I don't know why it makes me so angry, but I'm practically boiling. If I turn back to look, it will give her the satisfaction of knowing I care that she's looking at me. I won't give that to her, because how dare she. How dare she think after all of this she can just abuse what we have... had. She knows she has the power to make me do anything for her. Unless everything about our relationship has been completely one-sided, a theory that with my entire heart I cannot believe, we're carrying the same artillery into this. I've got just as much over her as she does over me. And if I'm right, it killed her that I didn't turn back to look at her.
~:~:~
For I think the first time in my academic career, I'm ecstatic that my last name begins with a B. Mr. McSherry has seated his AP European History class in alphabetical order, going from left to right. This puts me in the front of the classroom. More importantly, it puts me in a position in which I am unable to see Santana, whose L last name always puts her in the middle, even when a teacher thinks they're clever and starts the alphabet in the back. While I'm sure she's looking at me, I'm not going to turn back to her. I know where she is. Her name landed her in the first seat in the third row. I found that out on the first day.
I'm a little surprised she didn't try to switch out of this class. Miss Pillsbury mustn't have been able to shift her schedule or something.
Or she didn't even try to change it.
Stop thinking about her!
I tune back into our discussion of the first Anglo-Saxons in England and resume my note taking.
"The United Kingdom as we know it now, of course, is made up of England, Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland and I'm sure you're all aware that at one point, Great Britain was the most powerful nation in the world. Of course it wasn't always like that," Mr. McSherry reminded us all of our World History lessons from last year.
"Well, the Romans were in charge of them for a while."
My pen stills and my eyes close as I slowly draw in oxygen through my mouth. That was the first time I've heard her voice since my birthday dinner.
"You're absolutely right Santana, however, that's a little bit before this. The Romans got themselves out of England somewhere around Four Hundred. I'm saying somewhere around then, because let's be serious folks, it's not like the Emperor could just hop on Twitter and tell everyone to get their butts out," cue laughter from almost everyone.
I'm a little too lost in the echo of Santana's voice ringing in my head.
"But when they left, they took the ruling government and the money with them, which would have left all of the mini-countries to fend for themselves… and against themselves."
That was her again. Is it weird that I think the knowledge she's throwing out there is really hot?
God, how can I possibly get over her?
"Exactly! Perfect segue, Santana! I'm glad you're here with us. The last three classes everyone in here just listened to what I had to say. Who knows if what I told them was real?"
"It was, I have the notes," I hear Santana chuckle a little and oh my god all I can imagine is seeing her smiling and it's so beautiful. I can't look back. I have to settle for what my brain is cooking up.
"This is going to be a fun class."
I look up and see Mr. McSherry smiling and pointing in the direction of Santana with his dry erase marker.
All I'm wondering is: For who?
~:~:~
I didn't think Santana would be here. I finally made a correct assumption today. While I hope she hasn't quit, I'm glad she isn't here. It would have been awkward for everyone. It's not like everyone in Glee Club doesn't know about everything that's happened. If Finn knows, everyone knows.
"Alright everyone! Welcome back!" Mr. Schue says stepping into the choir room from his office. The whole room "woos" and claps as he walks to the center of the room, "Now, I know we're coming off a tough loss, but I have an amazing feeling about this year. This is it guys!" Cheers erupt from the risers just as Schue makes it to the center. As it's dying down, he begins speaking again, "As you can all probably see, we have a new face, but we're also missing a few…" his eyes land on me for just a second; it's long enough for me to know that he knows, "So, ladies and gentlemen: it's recruitment time!"
And Mr. Schuester has already lost us. Cue immediate groaning from everyone. As much as all of us love (I know that some of them say they don't, but they do) Glee Club, no one else does. It's unfortunate, but entirely true. Our only hope of recruiting new people are actual new people. Like, kids who have transferred here and haven't heard of of the New Directions. I don't think I've seen any new kids.
"I have faith in you guys. I always have," is all he says in response, "we'll hold auditions next week in the auditorium." He claps his hands and takes a step forward, "Okay, next order of business: I know it's been a long summer and some of you are just itching to get on up here a sing your hearts out. Who's up first?"
"I'd like to perform something Mr. Shuester," I hear Blaine behind me and a seat shift, "I know that I'm here from one of your rivals, the Warblers, but I'd like just let you all know that I am one hundred percent devoted to the New Directions. Also, I feel like I shouldn't have to skip the audition process simply because you've already seen me perform."
"The floor is all yours, Blaine," Mr. Schuester moves to the risers as Blaine walks down them.
"Hi everyone!" he smiles then subconsciously adjusts his bow tie, "I'm Blaine Anderson and I'm going to be performing Last Friday Night by Katy Perry." He looks down for a moment, seeming to be preparing and then his head pops up again, "Feel free to join me."
Brad and the Jazz Band start playing and Blaine's charming stage presence makes its appearance immediately and by the chorus, everyone's joined in like he suggested.
This should be more fun. I think everyone is trying to make it more fun for me, too. I've had a moment with pretty much every member of Glee Club. When the song is over we all return to our seats and Schue returns to the center.
"That was fantastic, Blaine! The exact kind of energy we're looking for! Okay, anyone else have anything?"
I can feel eyes on me. I'm sitting in the front so I can't see anyone, but I know they're all looking at me. When does Rachel Berry miss out on a chance to perform?
Today's the day folks.
"As much as you were all probably expecting tearful rendition of John Mayer's Dreaming With a Broken Heart, you're being spared," I say because the eyes that are on me were starting to get heavy and excruciating.
"That's quite alright Rachel," Mr. Schuester gives me this sad smile and I suddenly want nothing more than to be out of the choir room. Also, Dreaming With a Broken Heart is now playing in my head making everything that much worse. "Okay, well if that's it-"
Yes!
"Actually, Mr. Schue…"
No!
"Yes, Finn."
"I just um… wanted to apologize to everyone for you know, Nationals. It was all my fault," oh god, as nice as this is, I wish he'd shut his big doofy mouth, "And I want you all to know that I'm going to be working extra hard this year. Especially on my dancing."
I hear seats shift, then I hear, "That was cool, bro."
Then I hear a seat shift again, "Oh and I want to apologize to Rachel," as soon as my name permeates through my ear drums I turn around, "I was out of line and what I did was completely disrespectful to you and-" I can see his Adam's Apple bob in a gulp, "to you. So, yeah, I'm sorry."
I know what he was going to say, I'm not an oblivious idiot. Nevertheless, it was heartfelt and I really do appreciate it, "Thank you, Finn."
He smiles and sits back down. I turn myself back to the front and try not to let my shoulders slump like they want to.
"Okay, well if that's it-"
"Actually, Mr. Schuester…"
NOAH!
"… I'm just kidding."
"Puckerman," Schue rolls his eyes then says, "Get out of here everyone! Get your homework done!" Over the din of everyones' discussions and the shuffling of chairs he reminds us to start recruiting.
I grab my bag from underneath my chair and try my best to get out of the room to get to my locker.
"Hey, Rachel!"
I said 'I try.'
"Hey, Noah."
"You got a minute?"
I don't, "Sure."
"Let's wait until everyone gets out of here," he suggests and my heart sinks. That damn song is still running through my head and I just want to get to my car so that I can find something else to get stuck there.
"Alright," I answer despite myself.
He picks up an unplugged guitar and plucks away at it as the rest of the Glee Club peters out of the room. Once the last of them cross through the doors, he stops playing and turns to me, "She's an idiot."
I can't help the tiny chuckle that escapes from my throat, "Thanks."
"You know, if you want, you can get that song out there. It's one of my favorite sad songs, by the way," he smiles and nudges me with a soft punch to my shoulder… like we're bros or something.
I contemplate it for a moment because maybe that would work. No. It won't. It would just make it worse. There'd be nothing cathartic about how true that song holds to my situation at the moment. "No thank you, Noah, I'm really not in the mood."
"Alright, it was worth a shot," he shrugs, "You know, at this point, I think she feels guilty."
"Huh?" I'm caught off guard and the not-so-elegant syllable slips out.
"That's why she hasn't said anything to you," he gets up and puts the guitar back on its stand, "she feels bad about shutting you out, so now she can't work up the courage to talk to you."
"That's bullshit," more elegance coming out of my mouth.
"I wasn't saying it's right, I'm just trying to help out my bro," he shrugs again as if this isn't a big deal.
And here's that anger again, "Well, just so you know, you haven't helped out your 'bro.' What you just told me doesn't do anything to make me feel better. Since when can she not talk to me? I have always been there for her."
"I'm sorry…"
I get up and start the trek across the choir room to the door, but a thought stops me and I turn back to him, "You know what, if you really want to help out your bro, tell her that she really needs to get over herself because I've already started to."
I actually think that's true.
As I walk away, I remember something that I had said to Quinn several nights before: I don't think I want to wait for someone who has hurt me as much as she has, let alone be with her.
I wish I could believe myself when I thought these things.
I suddenly have a new song stuck in my head and as I walk through the empty-ish halls and through the parking lot, it slips out:
"Goodbye
Should be saying that to you by now, shouldn't I?
Laying down a law that I live by
Well, maybe next time
And I tell myself to let this story end
That my heart will rest in someone else's hand
But my 'Why not me?' philosophy began
And I said:
Ooh, how am I gonna get over you?
I'll be alright
Just not tonight
But someday…
Wave goodbye to me
I won't say I'm sorry
I'll be alright
Once I find the other side of someday"
I guess I was in mood after all. Maybe not for everyone, but for me and I'm the most important right now.
Gonna Get Over You by Sara Bareilles
A/N: Hey, girl hey! Or boy, but I kinda doubt it. Also, that sounds funny. Anyways, things are moving! Next step is to take some notes and this thing should really be on its way. I'm super excited about this thing! I just needed to pause from my feverish writing to post this Hope you're all enjoying this as much as I am. As per usual, I love hearing from almost* all of you.
*Rude guest reviewers who don't understand what's happening need not apply.
Thanks.
