Chapter 4
As if the week wasn't bad enough with Russell apparently picking up a new "secretary" at work and not even trying to hide the fact that he was screwing her while insisting that Quinn "pretty up" so he could show her off to his friends, on Tuesday at Glee, Will Schuester got it into his greaseball head that the club needed to "work on their togetherness". And then promptly assigned Quinn and Santana to work on a song together. Judging by the glares the darker girl was shooting across the room, neither of them wanted to do this, but Will wasn't letting them wiggle out.
"Alright, whatever. Fabray, your gay ass is coming with me," Santana snapped, gathering up her books and stalking over to where Quinn was sitting beside Sam. "There ain't no way I'm staying here longer than I have to and you can freaking forget it if you want me to come to yours. So that means your ass is coming to the Heights with me after school so get your shit and let's go."
Quinn glared at her and sighed before she leaned over and kissed Sam softly and grabbed her books and stood up. "See you later." She said to Sam and waved at Blaine who was begrudgingly paired with Finn before leaning down and whispering in Sam's ear, "Don't kill Kurt okay?" she smiled and pulled away and headed out of the room with Santana on her heels. She went to her locker and pulled on her Letterman jacket, grabbing her bag and looking at Santana. "Want me to drive you or do you have a car today?"
"I thought about getting Daddy's Escalade this morning, but it's new and I'd rather not chip the paint," Santana shrugged, "and besides, Coach was already ready to blow a gasket about us eating over the weekend, so I ran. But we can take your car if it's here," she smirked at her former friend, knowing she wouldn't like the implication that she was lazier than Santana.
Quinn rolled her eyes. "Feel free to run home too." She replied as she headed out to the parking lot, "I am still captain and you're still at the bottom of the pyramid so I'm less than worried about my standing with Coach." she tossed her newly cut hair over she shoulder and headed to her car wondering if Santana's pride would make her run or she would come and take a ride on the cold winter day.
"Because your bitch ass lied and told her I got a fucking boob job over the summer," Santana snapped, still bitter. "I still cannot believe you did that," she muttered, not looking at Quinn so she could keep denying how much it'd stung to have someone she'd thought was her friend do something like that to her. "Hope you fall off the pyramid and break your damn legs," she growled, angrily shoving her books into the backpack she'd grabbed out of her locker and throwing it on her back so she could run.
"Come on, get your ass in the car. How long are you gonna hold on to something that I've told you over and over that I never did?" Quinn grumbled as she waited for Santana. "It's freezing just come on and get in the damn car."
"Bullshit you never did it when you keep fucking bringing it up!" Santana snapped, glaring at her as she stalked past the car. "You're the only one who came out looking good, Quinn. Don't think I'm so dumb I don't notice that shit. I'm not Brittany for God's sake. Whatever. I don't give a fuck." She adjusted the backpack on her back so she could run relatively unimpeded. The stiff wind blowing through the parking lot already had the skin of her exposed legs under her cheerleading skirt feeling stiff and numb, but her pride would never let her give in to Quinn telling her to do something or admitting she needed help so she just started off jogging down the street.
Quinn groaned and got in her car, she slammed the door with anger. "No but fucking Brittany was the idiot who told about your tits, Santana." She sighed and slammed her palms against the steering wheel. She turned on the car and reved the engine, "Fucking Lopez." she mumbled as she headed to the other girl's house.
When Santana finally got to her house nearly four miles away from the school, Quinn had been waiting for nearly forty minutes. Santana was shivering violently and chafing at her arms through her letter jacket, her legs nearly white with cold as she stumbled up the porch stairs, fumbling in her pockets with fingers that felt like blocks of ice for her keys. Her teeth were chattering so loud she couldn't hear Quinn shutting off her car or getting out behind her.
Quinn wrapped her jacket around the girl, "Why are you so hard headed?" she asked softly as she helped Santana with the door. "I didn't want you to run. Look, I'm sorry for the crack about Cheerios, can we just call a truce?"
Santana tried to shrug but she was shivering too hard. A pained whimper left her lips as the comforting warmth of the house flowed over her in a painful wave of prickles as her abused flesh started warming back up. "F-fuck, it's cold," she chattered out as she stumbled in to curl up on the sofa, burrowing gratefully into the warmth of Quinn's jacket and breathing the familiar scent of the girl in.
Quinn might be someone who could push her buttons faster than anyone else she'd ever met, but there was also something about her that could calm Santana down when she was her most stressed. She didn't get it - she didn't even try to think about it too much - but she couldn't deny it either. Whenever it crossed her mind enough to wonder, she usually just shrugged it off and tried to mark it up to childhood memories of the other girl holding her when she was crying over a skinned knee as a little kid. Even though she'd finally started coming out to people as a lesbian, she didn't want to be that lesbian. The one with a crush on her straight friend.
"Whatever," she finally muttered, shrugging out of the jacket as the feeling became less pain and more warmth flowing through her. "Are we doing this or what?" She looked at Quinn for a moment and then the clock before stomping back into the kitchen. "Mami and Papi are busy at work tonight and there ain't no way I'm dealing with your ass sober so," she came back accompanied by the sounds of bottles clinking as she held up two four packs of wine coolers, "Cherry or Sangria?"
"Start with the cherry." Quinn sighed as she took the four pack. "Can I like change into like actual clothing? You might want to as well since you look like you're gonna turn into a popsicle." She said as she looked at her duffel bag.
"Sure, you if you want." Santana shrugged as cracked open a bottle and took a hefty swig, carrying the other pack with her up to her room. "Come on up. We can start trying to figure out something to do for this lame ass assignment while we change."
Once up the stairs, Quinn smiled at the dark hue of her former friend's room. "I kinda missed your lair, San." She smiled as she put her backpack down on the desk chair. She put her duffel bag down and looked through the contents. She knew she couldn't put on any of her jeans and she sighed and pulled out a pair of yoga pants. She pulled them on under her skirt and then unzipped her skirt and pulled it off. She pulled off her shirt, not really caring that she wasn't wearing a bra under her top and put it in her bag before continuing to look for her sports bra and shirt.
If Santana hadn't thought she was a lesbian before, the way her mouth went dry when she saw the gentle swells of Quinn's breasts would have changed her mind. She was staring and she couldn't help herself for a long moment before she finally managed to pull her gaze away, draining the rest of her bottle in an attempt to distract herself before reaching into her dresser for a pair of shorts and a tank top. Yes she was cold from her run, but her parents like to keep the house weirdly hot even in the winter so she was warming up fairly quickly.
As she changed, she tried not to look at Quinn too often, but it was hard. Her former friend was undeniably beautiful and kept herself in excellent shape and Santana would be lying to herself if she said she didn't appreciate the aesthetic beauty of the girl. Which she wouldn't. She might say that Quinn was a hot ass bitch that she wouldn't turn down a roll in the sack with if asked while drunk, but she wasn't nearly drunk enough for that yet.
"You need to borrow anything?" she asked finally, trying not to look too flustered at her captain's casual semi-nudity. "I know my shit's probably gonna be small and tight on you, but you can deal for a few hours, right?"
"No, I'm cool." Quinn replied as she located her white tank top and slid it on. "Sorry, I couldn't find my shirt." she popped open her drink and took a long swig. "So... you warming up now?"
Santana nodded and turned away to boot up her computer. She wasn't sure if she should feel rejected by Quinn turning down her clothes or just weird about the fact that her body was responding to her former friend the way it was. She opened a fresh bottle and took another long swig, downing nearly half in one go but it didn't seem to put a dent in the dry sensation in her mouth whenever her mind flashed a blast of Quinn topless again.
"O-okay," she coughed to clear her throat as she opened iTunes and started scrolling. "So we've got to do some lame ass song about overcoming our differences. Any suggestions?"
Once her first bottle was done, she opened a second and laid on Santana's bed. "Love The Way You Lie? But neither of us can rap." Quinn replied as she watched Santana. "Look, I didn't tell Sue about your tits. I swear to god.
"
Santana sighed, rolling her eyes as dragged the laptop over to the bed so that Quinn could see as well. "Look, can we not talk about that shit? I didn't even get a freaking boob job but everyone thinks I did, so whatever. I don't even fucking care who told who what anymore, but you're the one that keeps bringing it up and rubbing it in my face so boo fucking hoo if I don't believe you."
"You brought it up...but I don't want you to hate me because of something I didn't do." She sighed, Quinn moved over so Santana could lay down. "I rather you hate me for something worthwhile if you need to hate."
"How the fuck did I bring up my tits?" Santana gave Quinn an odd look as she crawled onto the bed to lay beside her, taking another hit off her bottle, "Besides, I never said I hated you. Hate your creepy fifties housewife chic maybe or that what the hell was going on punk mode of yours, but I don't hate you. You piss me off, sure, but everyone does. Jesus, Quinn. If I hated you, I'd have taken that crap about you and that chick to Sue sophomore year. You know she didn't get it from me."
"That shit was a lie." Quinn snapped, "I never... that never happened, I also know where she got that from. Fucking Britt and her inability to keep her damn mouth closed."
"Hey! Leave her out of this," Santana growled, still protective of the other girl even if she had dumped her to go back to Artie and his pathetic crippled dick. "And don't say shit didn't happen, Q. There were freaking pictures of you getting up in that chick's space. Something happened even if it wasn't you getting on board the train to gaytown."
"Ugh." Quinn groaned, "I'm not gay, Santana. Fuck." She whispered as she looked through the iTunes. "I just... Look, I know who took those pictures and I know who told Sue and if you don't believe me it's fine."
"Fine, you're not gay. Whatever," Santana shrugged, busying herself with scrolling through her playlist and sipping down more of her drink. "What about Kiss With A Fist?" She smirked at Quinn, "Seems appropriate, don't you think?"
"Forget You? Bad Reputation? Iris?" She offered and drank the rest of her second drink. "Kiss with a Fist would work."
"Unless you're trying to make people talk again, I'd pass on Iris if I were you." Santana pointed out, downing the rest of her own drink and popping open a third. "Huh. I might have to grab another box."
"I think four each is fine." Quinn sighed, "I don't care what song we sing, alright?" She mumbled as she reached for a third drink. "I just wanna pick a song... could be a worse paring right? Blaine and Finn might kill each other and Kurt may drive Sam to insanity."
"Whatever, bitch. You're lucky to get paired up with my fine ass. I can make anyone look good," Santana laughed softly, feeling the buzz from her drinks as she polished off her third and popped the top on her fourth, "Just look at what I did with Wheezy when we've done duets. This is your opportunity for greatness here. I can make you sound way better than the hobbit could."
"Please, like I'd work with Rachel." She laughed, "At least I could come over here without fearing for my life."
"You did work with her though. Your little I Feel Pretty thing when Finnept popped her in the schnoz during rehearsals, remember? And fear for your life?" Santana laughed, "Whatever, I could so take the hobbit in a fight and so could you. We're like the badass bitches of McKinley, Q. No one dares fuck with us."
"Didn't mean her." Quinn mumbled, "I just don't wanna work with her ever again..." she rolled on her back and put her hand on her own stomach. "I just... can't wait until this year is over."
"Getting out of here?" Santana put her laptop aside and leaned back. "Fuck yeah. I can't wait to knock the dirt from this podunk town off my heels and never look back. I mean, hell, not like there's anyone here worth staying for besides my parents and pretty much all of you other bitches hate me anyway." She smiled to try and lie about how much she cared about everyone pushing her out and seemingly hating her. "Be good to see that now leaving Lima sign for the last time."
"Right?" Quinn said as she finished off her 4th drink, "The only people I talk to anymore are Blaine and Sam..." she sighed, "At least you have amazing parents and Brittany, even Finn seems to be your new bro."
"Finn?" Santana looked disgusted, "Okay, so maybe I got stupid and fucked his v-card away, but trust me, I don't want anything to do with the Jolly Green Giant. And," she sighed, shrugging, "Britt's got Wheels and that is so not my scene. Maybe there's not a lot of options for lesbians in this godforsaken town, but getting dropped twice for a cripple is once too often even for me." She laughed like it didn't mean anything, "Whatever, not like she'll graduate anyway, right?" She downed the last of her drink and tossed the bottle away, shoving herself up again. "What the hell am I doing blubbering at you like this? You don't want to hear about my crap. Let's just get this shit assignment done so you can go home or wherever the fuck you go."
"You know I would rather not go home, San." She sighed as she looked to Santana. "I'm sorry you and Britt fell through, I thought she might grow up and figure her shit out someday."
"Whatever. I'm done talking about her. She can go make crippled babies with the freak if she wants. I'm over her." Santana refused to look at Quinn, pulling her laptop back onto the bed and scrolling through iTunes like she was actually looking for something.
Quinn rolled on her side. "For what it's worth... I'm proud of you for being honest about who you are," she said softly. "It was brave. You're brave."
"It wasn't brave," Santana's hands stilled on the keys. "Fucking Finnocense outing me in the goddamn hallway wasn't brave. I had to be honest or whatever the fuck you think I was because I didn't have a choice." Her lips thinned, but she refused to look at Quinn, knowing how alcohol affected her. "Because Schuester's fucking Golden Boy decided he knew how I should live my life and blurted it out in the fucking hallway and that creepy pizza guy decided to plaster it on his ad campaign. So don't you dare talk about how brave I am, Fabray. Not when not you or any other person in that goddamn club had a single thing to say about him destroying my life. Not when I was made to apologize to him and pressured to fucking thank him for taking my choice away and slapping his fucking label on me. Don't talk to me about how fucking brave I am!"
Quinn looked away, "I'm sorry... I know it was really hard but I couldn't... you know that." She sat up and looked at the other girl, "But...you're able to be open about who you are. Fuck Finn, you don't have to lie anymore..."
"You couldn't what? Tell him he was an asshole for doing that to me? I could see the gun shoved to your head forcing you not to, Quinn." Santana clenched her jaw against the tears stinging the back of her eyes. "But, yeah. No one could. I get it, okay. I'm just the stupid, lesbian bitch who deserves whatever the fuck I get. But you know what, I was happier lying because at least when I was lying I didn't get assholes cornering me in the goddamn halls to tell me how they can teach me to like guys. Girls didn't leave the bathrooms just because I came in acting like I was some kind of pervert who wanted to get in their pants. And when I was lying, my abulea still loved me so I don't really care about how great it is to be open about who I am."
She scuffed at her eyes, "The fuck. I am not talking about this shit with you, Fabray. And if you tell anyone about any of this, I swear I'll end you."
Quinn sighed, "I won't... I promise." She pulled her knees up to her chin, "I'm sorry I didn't knee Finn in the balls... I'm just keeping a low profile these days you know, but I should have had your back." Quinn ran her hand through her hair with a sigh.
"Whatever," Santana shrugged. "It's not like you were the only one who didn't say anything. Not even Kurt," she shook her head. "Even the people I thought would definitely say something to him didn't," she whispered softly, "Not Rachel or Brittany or Blaine... no one. So whatever, I get it. Everyone hates me. It doesn't matter. In a few months I'm out and you all can kiss this fine ass goodbye because I am never coming back." She glanced back at Quinn for a second, "I'm done talking about this, Fabray. Seriously. You don't need to remind me all the time that you're better than me."
"I'm not better than you... I'm not." Quinn whispered, "I never have been and never will be. You're not the only one dealing with living a lie."
"Yeah right," Santana muttered, shoving her laptop off the bed to drop into a pile of clothes. "You want to see how to deal with living a lie?" She reached over and got a grip on Quinn's tank top, "How's this for living a lie?" Without any further warning, she leaned in and kissed her hard, her lips soft and pleading with Quinn to return the kiss, to show the lonely girl that she was wanted on some level - any level - by someone who wasn't her parents.
Quinn kissed her back for a moment before pulling away, "San..." She whispered as she caressed the girl's face, "I can't... not like this, okay?" She was pleading for her to understand something that she had no idea about. That Quinn couldn't be with her as she currently was. She wasn't herself and she couldn't lead Santana on.
Santana slumped for a second then got up out of the bed. "Of course you can't. I'm just a dirty lesbian. You can't touch me or daddy's precious little girl will get damaged," she sneered, letting her anger get the better of her to hide how hurt she felt. "Whatever, just... just get out." She kicked the duffel bag on the floor, refusing to look at Quinn or admit how much it hurt being pushed away again by someone she liked. "You don't want to be here. You don't want me. No one fucking wants me, so just get out."
"I want to be here." Quinn grabbed Santana's hand. "I care about you Santana, you're amazing and so beautiful... but I'm not a lesbian. It has nothing to do with my family... I just can't be a girl for you."
"You're not a...you can't be a girl?" Santana shook her head and yanked her hand away. "Whatever, Fabray! I don't need your fucking pity! Just get out and stop acting like you give a shit about me when we both know you don't."
"Maybe if you didn't shut me out all the fucking time!" Quinn groaned as she got up and grabbed her bag. She slid back on her uniform skirt knowing that she couldn't go home in pants. "We'll do Kiss With A Fist and sing it together," she mumbled, pulling her top back over her tank.
"I'm not the only one who shuts people out, Quinn!" Santana glared at her, watching her grab her things and get changed again. "You think I like being alone? It fucking sucks! But you... Fuck you. Even if I was a goddamn guy you wouldn't be with me so don't pity me and pretend I mean anything. Sing whatever the hell you want. I'll just sway in the background where everyone wants me."
"Santana, I'm sorry I let you down. I'm so sorry. I've been trying to get you back as a friend." Quinn looked at her, "I went through some stuff this last year and so did you... but for better or worse no one knows about my shit. I'm sorry I was hurting and I had to go off on my own to figure things out... I'm sorry, San. I wish I was a better friend."
"You're not my friend," the words sounded like they were being pulled forcefully from somewhere deep inside of Santana and that they hurt coming up, "and sometimes I wonder if you ever were. I know your dad just thinks I'm some stupid wetback from Mexico but I thought you thought better of me. But you just lie like everyone else. So maybe I'm a bitch and a lesbian and Latina and whatever else about me people use as an insult, but I've always been honest with people I thought were my friends. Stupid me though. Turned out I didn't have any." She shook her head and turned away, tired of letting Quinn see her hurt. "Just go away, Quinn. Please."
"I'm sorry, San... I miss you," she whispered before she slipped out of the girl's room trying to hold off tears.
"I miss you too," Santana whispered, closing the door and sliding down it to wrap her arms around her legs and sob into her knees. She felt so stupid for throwing herself at someone she knew was straight only to be rejected again. Everyone she'd asked to love her had turned her down now. Brittany. Puck. Now Quinn. Each one broke her heart a little further but no one thought to try to even sweep up the shattered pieces as they walked away.
