Chapter: 3/?
Word Count: 6326
A/N: I know nothing about New York and the law business so if you can, please ignore eventual mistakes or give me suggestions, they are always welcome.
Your comments had been awesome; you're too kind. From now on I'll reply in detail on my Tumblr page (it's the same as my penname) before every new part comes out.
This is an introductive chapter; the good stuff has yet to come. The songs are The Paper Kites' "Bloom", Joan Jett's "Bad Reputation" and Coldplay's "Every Teardrop Is A Waterfall".
Be patient and enjoy.
Chapter II
Every Teardrop Is A Waterfall
New York, November 2016
"No…no…what did he say? ...Of course…yes…no…why can't anybody ever do what I ask? Is it that difficult?" The volume of her voice was raising, "I just asked you to do a single, simple thing. Even a baby sloth would have been able to do it. Call me only when it's done." And with that she closed the call. Santana took off her eyeglasses with her left and her right pinched the bridge of her nose to relieve some of the pressure rising in her head. She took a deep breath and, after placing her glasses back on, immersed herself in the documents in front of her.
Since she had moved to New York almost two years before, all her workdays had been like this; often the weekends too. Nothing could bring her out of her habits, not even the holidays. She hadn't been back in Lima since the day she left for college. She tried to evade everything connected to her past. She heard from her family once a month via phone and once a year from Quinn and that was it, till the previous month. She couldn't believe she had finally reached her breaking point and made that call. Though, apart from a couple of calls and several messages and e-mails, nothing changed.
Consequently to her encounter with Quinn the Latina had fallen back into her routine. Alarm set at 6 a.m., a long shower, a quick breakfast and she was ready for work.
She was grateful for her routine; it didn't give her the chance to think. Reflecting on what to eat, when to wake, or what to wear would have led her to remembering about what she liked to eat, Lucky Charms were her favorite and the Latina usually even tried to evade the breakfast isle in supermarkets, and how adorable she looked in the morning.
It was their senior year of high school and they had finally started dating officially the previous week. Santana had been feeling like on high since then. She had even smiled and carried on when a freshman bumped in to her, scaring him to death.
Her parents were working the night shifts and her younger brother was staying at one of his schoolmates' house so she had the entire house to herself…and Brittany. She invited the blonde over for a movie marathon since it was a Friday and they didn't have school the following day.
It had been a very quiet affair, almost as they were having one of their old sleepovers, when they were still in middle school; they put on their pajamas, watched a couple of Disney's movies, Brittany favorites, ordered a Hawaiian pizza to share and stayed awake late talking about everything and nothing.
Santana had almost fallen asleep when she felt the taller girl shift her body until she was above her, supporting her weight with her arms. Those blue eyes were bright; the light coming from the street posts outside hit them just in the right way to cause them to sparkle as if they were made of diamonds. The rest of the room was bathed in darkness showcasing even more the scene.
Santana felt her heart constrict and then expand. With a gentle hand she put a stray lock of blond hair that fell on her pillow behind a delicate ear and she kept it there. Brittany leant in the touch. They turned for a kiss at the same time as if they shared not only one heart, but also one mind.
That night they expressed their love without uttering a word.
In the morning when I wake
And the sun is coming through,
Oh, you fill my lungs with sweetness,
And you fill my head with you.
A sunray hitting her right in the face woke the brunette from her slumber. The first thing she noticed were the arms wrapped tight around her as if the other girl was afraid to let her go. She admired the view of a pale shoulder and a slender back before resting her gaze on long legs twined with her own. She buried her face in blond hair, inhaling her favorite smell; after a couple of seconds she was asleep again, a smile stamped on her face.
Shall I write it in a letter?
Shall I try to get it down?
Oh, you fill my head with pieces
Of a song I can't get out.
The second time she woke up the blonde was nowhere to be found, she panicked before hearing the sound of running water in the bathroom; when Brittany entered the room wearing an old Cheerio's sweatshirt with Lopez written on the back, the brunette was struck. In that instant she swore to herself she would do anything to wake up to that view for the rest of her life.
Can I be close to you?
Then she caught the other girl, pouncing on her the second she hit the bed. Brittany wearing her clothes had always been a major turn-on.
Work was what helped the most. The fast pace of it didn't give her the chance to stop, not even for a second. While her sixteen old self would have hated the repetitiveness, she would have loved what the job entitled her to do. Throwing insults left and right and ordering other people around had always been her favorite pastime. Receiving a paycheck doing it was just a bonus. Studying nonstop for three years and graduating at the top of her class paid its results and now she had been made partner in one of the most important law firms in the city, hell in the whole State.
However during days like that she often asked herself if the trouble was worth it. When her secretary knocked and entered her office without waiting for her consent she was ready to let out some of her pent-up frustration on the poor woman. "Millie, did waiting for a 'come in' become out of style?"
"There's someone here to see you."
Santana sighed. "I told you I didn't want to be disturbed."
The frail woman was becoming more and more frantic, "They wouldn't take no for an answer." And with a grimace she waited for the yelling. Providentially that person entered the room stopping the tirade before it could even start.
"Satan, aren't you happy to see me? Most women would be thanking their lucky stars if they were to receive a visit from me."
"As you know I'm not like most women." The Latina dismissed her assistant with an absentminded wave of her left hand. "You can go, Millie. I know it's not your fault." The older woman left closing the door behind her, reflecting on why she hadn't started to look for another job yet; the answer at the moment escaped her.
"What are you doing here? Your sole purpose in life is to annoy me as much as you can?"
"No, I'm here to take you out to lunch." Santana groaned and opened her mouth to sprout a sarcastic comment, but was immediately silence. "And I'll bug you until you accept so just say yes and save the effort."
"Okay, but you better pay." And moved to retrieve her trench coat. "Of course. What kind of man do you think I am? I'm a gentleman." A sour look from the Latina showed clearly her thoughts on the matter. "Do you really want me to amend that statement?"
"How I love when you speak lawyer."
"Why do I bother?"
"Because you love me. Everyone loves me… Especially the ladies, but not only, you know I like to keep my options open." The expression he wore was as slimy as the first time she has seen it and the wink she received accentuated the image.
She gave an eye roll. "You remind me more and more of Puckerman."
"Please, do not compare me to that squirrel wearing manwhore." And shaking off from his shoulders imaginary dust he added. "I have much more style."
She gave him a doubting look. "If you say so... You still look like Mr. Shue's illegitimate son with those curls."
A gasp escaped him at the remark. "You can't…" He stopped to display his shock.
"I can. I'm not the first person to say so." A grin was threatening to appear on her face, but she used all of her acting skills to keep the scowl in place.
"How much gel did you put in there?" With fake curiosity she lifted a hand to his hair, which he hastily swatted away.
"Don't touch it."
They left bickering all the way to the elevators, leaving an amused Millie behind. Before the doors closed she heard a shriek. "Do you know-" The rest of the sentence was too low to hear. This was why she hadn't changed work yet, or at least boss; Miss Lopez may be cold and harsh, but when she directed her temper elsewhere she made great entertainment.
Jess was the same he had always been: self-centered, selfish and with an ego the size of New York. But he could take her insults and retaliate with some of his own. However he was really touchy when it came to the subject of hair. It was one of the best moments of her day when she could insult his curls. She now understood how Coach Sylvester felt taking jabs at the expense of the Spanish teacher. She mentally made a note to send a letter with the best ones to Sue for Christmas.
Santana didn't know how they became friends, if she could label them that way. Probably it had to do with how similar they were and how they both wished to forget the past. They never talked about feelings and they were ready to insult the other when they were down. They were exactly what they both needed, an escape.
She observed him in silence while he flirted shamelessly with the cute waitress; it was evident he didn't know the concept of subtlety; he could be more obvious only if he threw her on his shoulder like a caveman. She thought that he resembled a peacock with the way he puffed up his chest and flaunted his hairstyle. Deciding to interrupt his mating ritual, she laid a hand on the girl's arm, drawing her attention. "I'm really sorry to be so rude, but sadly I have to get back to the office in twenty minutes, so if you could take us two of today's special and two glasses of water it would be wonderful. Thank you."
If the waitress was flustered before, now was close to hyperventilating. "Yes, yes. Of course. I'll be right back." And with that she scurried away.
The man in front of her pouted and she sent a smirk his way. "It's not fair! She was eating from the palm of my hand. Another second and she would have given me her number."
"Wanna bet?"
"You're on. Nobody can resist me."
The object of their discussion came back with their order. "Can I give you something else?"
"Sit with us for a moment. We could get to know each other better." Jess added with a smile that could have melted ice.
The girl was still reticent. "I have to get bet to work, I'm sorry." And she left to serve other customers.
"So, Romeo…Didn't go as you planned, did it?" Santana derided him.
"Wait. It's not the end. Look." He motioned the waitress to come closer. "Could you take me the check, please? And your number too? You see, I'm a very determined person and you caught my attention. I won't rest until I know everything about you."
"I'm sorry, but I have a boyfriend." She dashed to the register before he could utter another word.
"Lost your touch, Casanova?" Santana mocked his companion.
"You are one to talk. I didn't see you try."
"Lemme." She leaned back in her chair.
But she didn't bother the waitress anymore until they were out the door and Jess had commented the lack of results from the Latina.
"Gimme a sec." She left him right out the window and went back in the café. He could see everything from outside, but couldn't hear a word. The two girls exchanged a couple of words, the brunette must have said something funny because the redhead had started laughing, then reached for notepad and pen and wrote something on a piece of paper. Santana kissed her on the cheek making her smile and waved before skipping out the door. Once they were out of view the Latina passed him the note.
Nicky. 0964-8643528. Xoxo
He was flabbergasted. "How?"
"A magician never reveals her secrets." She laughed at his expression and patted on the back. "Let's say feminine wiles."
"I hate you."
"Yes. But that doesn't change the fact that you owe me dinner."
"I won't talk to you ever again."
"I'll sue you. A debt is a debt."
He groaned. "I lose every single time. Why do I keep betting against you?"
"Masochism?" She added unhelpfully. He scoffed, but didn't reply.
"Come on! It's not true that I always win. Do you remember that Swedish hottie?" She asked trying to lift his spirits.
"That doesn't count. It was the first bet."
"So? Totally my type: blonde and blue eyed. You won fair."
"The name was Sven. A man. Not exactly your flavor."
She grinned and shrugged. "What can I say? I'm too hot to pass up." She added. "And if I remember correctly you had a lot of fun that night."
His eyes glazed over. "Yeah…" He smiled again. "So dinner at Mauro's Friday night after my extraordinaire performance in theatre?"
"You know me too well. I can't resist Italian food…and your performance is mediocre at best." She waited for the reaction.
He stopped walking and put a hand over his heart, his expression one of pure heartbreak. He open his mouth to recite in detail all of his acting skills when the ringing of a mobile interrupted his monologue.
Santana took her iPhone out of her purse and answered the call. "Hello?...Hi…" Jess looked on with interest. "Yes…Maybe…Is it everything all right?" A pause. "…I don't know, I'm not the best-…Isn't there anyone else you could ask?" Another pause and a sigh. "Okay. Okay…" Santana glanced his way and he tilted his head in question. "Is it okay if I bring someone?...Who did you take me for?" She ran a hand through her hair and appraised him from head to toe. "Let's say moral support…I know it's important!" She scoffed. "I'll see you tomorrow…8 sharp. Bye." She closed the call.
Jess asked with dread. "What did you set me up for?"
The grin he received in answer didn't alleviate his fears. When Santana got that glint in her eyes only meant trouble, usually for him. "Tomorrow you'll see. And don't worry, I'm in this too."
"That's exactly why I'm worried…" He mumbled under his breath.
"You like to sing, right?"
He snorted. "It's my job as you are well aware."
"Then it won't be a problem. You're going to make more fans." Her white teeth gleamed in the light, making her seem almost feral and he gulped. "Just wear your best casual outfit." Sometime he really regretted the day he met her in New York.
It was March of the same year. He had gone out with his co-star for a couple of dates, before he succeeded to seal the deal. It wasn't that great, so after he treated her as it never happened. Let's say she wasn't too happy. The next thing he knew was that she had sued him for sexual harassment.
The production threatened to fire him, but luckily he was more famous than that skunk so they couldn't do so without causing a scandal. The law company assigned his case to a new rising lawyer. He just knew what transpired through the grapevine: Lopez was the best the public relations branch of the firm had to offer.
When he entered the building he heard several women gossiping in the hall. Whoever this Lopez was, he must surely be something; all the girls were swooning over how "charming" and "hot" that guy was. Jess felt he had found a kindred spirit. He didn't know that the 38th floor, where Santana worked, had a completely different opinion of the lawyer.
He was directed to a waiting room. He had almost finished reading an article about his performance in a new Broadway show when a woman in her fifties called his name.
He entered a spacious office; the other person, seated on an easy chair and looking at the skyline, was giving him the back so he couldn't establish their identity.
"I was told you were the best at what you do. I am too at what I do." Jess announced his arrival with a smirk on his face and extended a hand over the desk for the introductions. He wasn't ready for what awaited him. The chair swirled on its wheels and he found himself face to face with someone he hadn't seen in over six years.
"I see you haven't changed one bit. You're still the same pompous ass. Let's skip the formalities, what did you do this time, Jess?" Her eyes were shining from amusement and her smile was so big that he could see all of her teeth.
After staring at her for a couple of seconds, he threw his head back and laughed. "Santana Lopez. It's good to see you." For the first time he meant it.
He soon found out her reputation was deserved. She could be a true bitch when irritated and disarming when in a good mood, but when it came to work she was a professional; she was the best lawyer he could have asked for. While working on his case they somehow they built a relationship, not sentimental, mind you, but friendly. They slowly started bugging each other and spending time together when they weren't busy. It wasn't often as they had very different and full schedules. He didn't know how, but it worked.
When the charges were dropped, they continued to keep in touch. Habitually they went hunting in clubs together; it was easier for them to catch their preys that way, they balanced each other. It was during their second night out that he found out about Santana's penchant for the ladies. He, on the other hand, just needed them breathing and good-looking; it didn't matter if male, female, blonde, brunettes…He liked to define himself a man of equal opportunities. On the contrary, the Latina had a very specific taste; it didn't matter if she started looking for a redhead or a brunette, she always ended with a blue-eyed blonde. He didn't ask and she didn't tell, some beasts were best left sleeping.
That was how he arrived the following morning on the Latina's front steps. She owed him big. The next night out she will better find a couple of twins for him to hook up with…
She reached him pulling him out of his fantasies. She was dressed in a short dress and high boots, the outfit screamed sex. It was unlike her usual attire during the day, which generally consisted of a two-piece suit.
He whistled. "Where are we going? Whoring ourselves on the streets?"
She thwacked the back of his head. "It's a surprise."
"I feel underdressed. If I knew I would have worn something more S&M. Do you have a whip in there?"
If looks could kill he would be a pile of ash. "Okay, but at least can I chose the radio station?" As soon as he was in the front seat he started rummaging through her iPod. Once he found a song of his liking, he started singing along the lyrics to Santana's chagrin. "Sometimes you're worse than Berry." She whispered to herself. Soon however he managed to convince her to join and they behaved as two fools until they reached their destination.
They shared a look of pure horror at the sign above the entrance of the building in front of them.
MADISON HIGH SCHOOL
The black capital letters stared back at them. Coincidentally they were the only ones in the parking lot, thus they could take a second to calm down.
Santana realized in that moment how screwed they were; before she hadn't really absorbed the reality of the situation. They had to go back to high school and motivate a bunch of uninterested teenagers to join glee club. She thought that this was how April Rhodes must have felt those years ago. At least she was younger and better looking…and totally not repeating high school. And she had Jess at his side. She looked at him; he was white as a ghost.
He whined. "Do we have to…?" He gulped as if he was too scared to complete the question.
"Yes. But think of all the teachers you could charm and the short cheerleaders' outfits." She lost herself for a second in memories, before shaking her head to get rid of them.
"And some of them are eighteen years old or more, right?" He asked.
"Yes." That seemed to convince him. He took her hand in his and dragged her behind. "Come on. Hordes of swooning fans, I'm coming."
She shook her head; he was incorrigible.
He suddenly stopped. "Wait. Who are we looking for?"
"Quinn Fabray. You should remember her."
He seemed surprised. "Blonde. Scary. Uptight. This tall…" He mimed her approximate height.
"Yes. You summarized her main characteristics very well."
"Wow. We just need Rachel Berry in those short miniskirts…" Their minds went off track for a second. "…And it would feel like old times."
"Have I ever told you how much of a pervert you are?"
"Yes, many times. I'm proud of it." He smirked.
Santana sent a text to the blonde and immediately got a response. "She's waiting for us in the choir room." With that they entered.
Quinn in the meantime was pacing the room. She was second-guessing her choice to create a glee club in this school. Many of the teenagers attending Madison were from broken homes and had a lot of problems. This was one of the worst neighborhoods of New York and she couldn't hope to solve their problems with a song. But music could be helpful; she knew that from experience. When everything seemed too much, music could help you see the light at the end of the tunnel.
This was way she started teaching: to help the kids, to aid them avoid making the same mistakes she did. She loved Beth, but sometimes she wished things were different.
She took a deep breath, in an hour she would know if she made the right choice. She hoped the show would convince some of her students to join. She told the ones in her classes of the event and she trusted them to spread the rumor. She didn't know what would arrive through the grapevine, but anything was better than nothing at all.
She asked the Latina's help for an exact reason: to catch their attention. And if there was something Santana excelled at, it was holding the spotlight and convincing people to do what she wanted.
Quinn thought about the call she made the day before.
She had just gotten home after a grueling morning at school. However she was in good spirits because she had received the authorization from the principal to open a glee club.
She hollered through the apartment. "Anyone home?"
"In the living room!" She heard.
She found Brittany lying upside down on the couch. "What are you doing?"
"I'm watching a movie." The dancer deadpanned.
"Why are you sitting that way?"
"The movie was boring, so I thought that maybe this way would get more interesting." Quinn shook her head in amusement. "Is it working?"
"No." She answered with a pout and twisted her body like a pretzel before sitting right again. "Wanna watch something with me?"
"No, B. I'm dead tired. Maybe next time?"
"Ok. No prob." Her attention went back to the screen.
Quinn remember what she wanted to talk about. "I'm forming a glee club a school." The reaction was enthusiastic. "Really? It's so cool. If I didn't suck so bad at studying I would go back to high school to join your glee club."
The teacher smiled with fondness. "Thanks, B. But maybe you can help me making more students join. Tomorrow I'm going to put up a show, so they can see that it's not something only geeks do, and that also the popular crew can have fun signing up. What do you say? Do you want to show off those mad skills of yours?"
The taller girl seemed truly dejected. "I'm sorry, but tomorrow I have a dance class I can't absolutely miss."
"Don't worry, Britt. Maybe you could come as a guest another time."
"Yay!"
"I have to make a call. See you later?"
"You'll find me here. Today is my day off." She waved at Quinn, before adopting an impossible position on the couch. The teacher shook her head; she couldn't find anyone more unique than Brittany even if she traveled the whole world.
Once she was inside her room with the door closed, sure that the other girl couldn't overhear her, she dialed a familiar number.
"Santana, it's Quinn…Hi…Can I ask you a favor?...Are you free tomorrow morning?...I just need a couple hours…Yes, everything is well. I just got the okay to start a glee club at school, so I needed a little help…Don't worry, it's just a song…" She started pacing her bedroom. "No, they are busy." She was careful not to say Brittany's name. "Please. I wouldn't ask you this if it wasn't absolutely necessary." She gave a sigh of relief. "Yes…Please, tell me it's not some skunk you want to impress…" She furrowed her eyebrows. "Look, it's import-" She was interrupted. "…The earlier the better…Okay. See you tomorrow."
Quinn sighed; her troubles were only starting. And teenagers were the least of her problems.
The vibration of her phone pulled her from her reverie. It was from Santana; it was time to start the games. The show was on.
She noticed him the second he stepped in the room. "St. James?"
"The one and only." He smirked.
"Fortunately." The brunette rebutted.
He nodded. "Too much sex appeal, the Earth could explode."
She snorted. "Yes, but because of your ego."
A gasp. "You wound me."
An eye-roll. "Poor you."
Quinn interrupted the tennis match. "Where did you find him? Among the X-Factor rejects?"
Santana laughed, "I found him on my doorstep and couldn't send him away. He's so cute." And pinched his cheek.
He scowled. "I'm not cute! And not a dog!"
"You're kind of a bitch…" She replied absentmindedly. "Anyway, here we are. At your service, milady." She curtsied. "What can we do for you?"
"Stop fooling around for a start." The teacher rolled her eyes. "We're going to sing a song or two each and a group number. I want to show them there is more to a choir than it seems on the surface."
Jess had a serious expression on his chiseled face. "Seems good to me. It didn't appear at the time, but Vocal Adrenaline meant a lot to me. Not just the winning part. It felt nice being part of something bigger."
For the first time the three of them agreed on something.
In the seats of the auditorium, it wasn't big or all put together as their old one but it was better than using the choir room, there were about fifty students. Quinn knew that more than half of them were there just to skip a class, but it felt good to have such a big audience.
She walked to the middle of the stage. "Some of you might know me as the new English teacher. For those of you who don't know I'm Miss Fabray. I hope you all could give a chance to the glee cl-" She was interrupted by a jock. "Sure. Then I'll start wearing braces and glasses an-" Santana didn't give him the opportunity to finish his joke. She stepped on the stage and took place next to Quinn. "If I were you I would stop talking, because I'm sure braces could help those beaver teeth of yours. I can see them from here" And she mimed the animal. The whole audience erupted in hysterics at his expenses.
The blonde shot her friend a half grateful, half exasperated glance and continued her speech. "As I was saying, you should give it a chance. Glee club is more than a stupid choir where people sing because they have nothing better to do. Glee is a family. It's a place where you can be accepted as you are."
Someone yelled from the back. "It's a social suicide!" Nods and whispers came from all around the room.
"Maybe. But it's also the best thing that happened to me in high school. It's your chance to express yourself, to show you can do something on your own. You can be part of something extraordinary. My old glee club, New Direction," Snickers broke throughout the auditorium, even Santana snorted, "Not you too…" Quinn whispered and went on "Won National during my senior year. The previous time we went to finals here in New York. That time I fell in love with the city."
She shared a last look with the brunette before Santana went backstage.
"We are a bit rusty,"
Jess commented indignant. "I'm not. My pitch is as perfect as it has always been, thank you very much." Many chuckled at the remark. "But we'll do our best to show how powerful a glee club can be." And with that started singing.
She received applause from the remaining audience. Several students had exited during her speech, and now there were only about thirty people in the stands. Some of them looked bored, a few were chatting, but twenty or so looked interested. It was a good result.
Santana took her place in the center of the stage. "When Quinn," The blonde shot her a look, which she retaliated with an eye-roll. "Sorry, when Miss Fabray told me to sing to a bunch of teenagers, I thought she was crazy, but then I remembered about my old glee club. Even if I was a cheerleader, glee club was the best part of my day. It gave me something to look forward to. Give it a fucking chance." Quinn scolded her. "Santana!" So she added a hasty, "Please." Causing everyone's hilarity.
"Reputation isn't everything!"
The notes of a rock song sounded through the room.
I don't give a damn 'bout my reputation
You're living in the past, it's a new generation
A girl can do what she wants to do and that's what I'm gonna do
She hopped down the stage and seated herself in the lap of a nerdy looking kid to his terror; he almost looked as he was going to pass out.
I don't give a damn 'bout my reputation
I've never been afraid of any deviation
An' I don't really care if you think I'm strange
I ain't gonna change
She then got up and wrapped her arms around the nearest cheerleader to the joy of the male population, who started whistling and catcalling. With a final kiss to the cheek of the poor girl who had started resembling a tomato she returned to the stage. At that point everybody had started singing along.
An' I don't give a damn 'bout my bad reputation
Oh no, not me, oh no, not me
Not me, not me
The cheering didn't stop for several seconds.
Quinn took her by the arm, while Jess got on stage and started singing, and whispered in her ear. "That wasn't appropriate."
Santana raised an eyebrow. "When the fuck I ever been appropriate."
She conceded the point with a sigh. "You are right and it seems it's working."
The kids were now looking with interest at the performance, some of them tapping their feet to the rhythm, others mouthing the words. They were just about twenty, give or take a few. Santana observed them. There were a few normal looking teenagers, three who looked like rappers, four geeks, five jocks in their blue jackets, two Berry wannabe in miniskirts and four cheerleaders. What caught her attention was the look of longing and sadness a dark haired girl in torn jeans and t-shirt was giving a redhead in a cheerleading outfit. She made a mental note to talk to Q about her. She went back to listening to her friend singing his heart out.
The three adults had still two or three songs more to sing. They stood in the middle of the stage, hand in hand. They closed their eyes.
"Remember, when everything goes wrong, try to sing…Sooner or later it will get better"
Quinn started the first verses.
I turn the music up, I got my records on
I shut the world outside until the lights come on
Maybe the streets alight, maybe the trees are gone
She looked around as if searching for something, before mimicking her heart with her hands thumping rhythmically her chest.
I feel my heart start beating to my favourite song
And all the kids they dance, all the kids all night
Until monday morning feels another life
I turn the music up, I'm on a roll this time
And heaven is in sight (oh...)
Jess continued where she left off.
I turn the music up, I got my records on
From underneath the rubble sing a rebel song
Don't want to see another generation drop
I'd rather be a comma than a full stop
Santana resumed after him, she then fell on her knees and mimed the beating of her heart with her clasped hands on her chest.
Maybe I'm in the black, maybe I'm on my knees
Maybe I'm in the gap between the two trapezes
But my heart is beating and my pulses start
Cathedrals in my heart
They separated for the last verses and went to the edge of the stage, holding out their hands to pull the students upstage by their arms. They sang all together dancing around and having fun.
And we saw, oh, this light
I swear you, emerge blinking into to tell me it's alright
As we soar walls, every siren is a symphony
And every tear's a waterfall, is a waterfall
Oh, is a waterfall, oh oh oh, is a, is a waterfall
Every tear is a waterfall, oh oh oh
This was the true meaning of a glee club.
Santana went to look at her phone, while her two friends were talking with the students. They were taking a break and all the teenagers were chatting excitedly. Everything was going great and she was really happy for Quinn; she knew how much it meant to her. She was going to become a better teacher than even Mr. Shuester was. She had the knowledge to support her passion; she was a force of nature. Santana only hoped her students would appreciated her enough.
She tapped the screen and noted three lost calls from one of his clients and two from her secretary. It was time to return to work. She put a hand on Quinn's arm to draw her attention. "Sorry, but I've got to get back to work. I had fun, thanks."
"No, thank you." They embraced. Jess joined them. "Is it okay for you to give this reject a ride home?"
His response came at the same time as the one from the blonde. "Hey!" "Sure!"
She yelled. "Bye guys!" And received a chorus of "Bye!" "Bye, Miss Lo!" Before walking out the room.
The blonde went to retrieve her Blackberry and her eyes went wide when she saw she had three texts from a certain tall dancer. When she read their content her face went white. One of her students, a cheerleader named Brooke, noticed, "Is it everything okay, Miss F?" With a lump in her throat she nodded, before grabbing Jess by the arm and dragging him to the door.
Brooke picked up the phone fallen from her teacher grasp. On the dimly lit screen three texts were open.
[Sry 4 yesterday. will try 2 make it. I know how much it means 4 u. – B.]
[Out of class early. Get there soon. – B.]
[Where is the auditorium? Im lost. – B.]
She furrowed her brows; it didn't seem something bad. She shrugged and went back to talking to Josh. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Steph staring at her; she clenched her jaw. She had to put a stop to it or soon people would start to detect that there was something between the two of them.
Meanwhile in the hallway the brunette was walking to the entrance when at the other side a blonde exited from a previously closed door. Quinn was sure Brittany would soon recognize Santana, even if she could only see her back. She started to think about what she could do to draw the blonde awareness away from the brunette, but came up empty handed. As if in slow motion she saw the blonde eyes lift to the floor and to the other girl, when suddenly the bell rang and the hallway filled with people, obscuring her view. The Latina reached the parking lot unnoticed. Quinn sighed with relief and chanced a glance to Jess. The expression on his face mirrored hers; they had just dodged a catastrophe by a hair's breath.
When they say saved by the bell…
