Prompt: A series of flashbacks leading up to the start of Santana and Rachel's relationship.
A/N: Basically Foxxy and I screwed up and made intense head canons for this story even though it's supposed to be purely smut. So yeah read it. lol
Santana was about the scrawniest ten-year old on the playground and she knew it. It was hard moving to a new place, even harder when you knew absolutely no one and everybody else already had their best friends in the whole world decided on.
Grumpily, the ten-year old kicked a rock in front of her, scuffing her Power Rangers shoes in the process. "Oh darn," she grumbled, instantly bending over to wipe away the dirt. Suddenly a shadow appeared over her and she looked up to find a taller boy sneering down at her.
"Your name is weird," he taunted, smiling proudly when the two boys behind him laughed.
"My name is not weird," the scrappy Latina snapped back, standing up and balling up her fists.
"Yes it is!" The boy teased. "Weirdy!"
"You take that back," Santana growled, stepping forwards angrily only to be pushed back forcefully by the boy. Santana's feet got tangled up and before she could react she landed roughly in the sandbox, her elbows stinging as the course pebbles scraped her skin. The girl pushed back tears and was about to jump to her feet when another girl, even smaller than herself, appeared out of nowhere and started yelling at the bullies, very loudly.
"HEY! STOP BEING A MEANIE HEAD NOAH! I'M TELLING YOUR MOM!"
A little Rachel Berry, all 47 inches of her, came stomping over to the boys. She planted herself firmly in between the girl on the ground and Noah Puckerman, who was looking flustered and annoyed all at once, face red with embarrassment.
"G-Go away, Rachel! My name is PUCK and you can't-"
"Oh I can so Noah. It's Friday, so I'll see your mom at temple tomorrow and I'm telling her that you were being really mean and rude to the new girl. Then you won't be allowed to do anything but recite the Torah all weekend!"
One of the other boys stepped up when it was obvious their ringleader was down for the count, shoving Rachel hard, making her stumble back and nearly fall over herself.
"S-shut up midget! Go play in the road!"
"That's really bad to say, David! I'll tell your dad!"
"YOU'RE A TATTLE TAIL!"
"YOU'RE A NEANDERTHAL!"
The boy, David, twisted his face in frustration and confusion, and without warning he shoved Rachel again, this time much harder, and she went tumbling to the ground with a screech, the force being enough to make her small body roll twice before she landed on her back, her dress now dirty and tears appearing in her eyes.
Santana watched the scene unfolding before her with interest as she rubbed her bleeding elbow, her face as close to a scowl as the ten-year old could get it. Whoever this tiny girl was, she was really awesome, even if her dress was pink.
Just as the Latina got up, laughing at the ugly boy's face when the girl called him whatever she had just called him, the girl was being pushed down. Santana watched with wide eyes as she rolled and then came to a stop, her bottom lip already quivering.
"Hey!" Santana yelled, whipping around as the group of bullies started to laugh. Her tiny frame shook with anger and before the boy, David, even knew what was happening Santana was crawling up him like a rabid squirrel. "I'm going to kick your butt!" the Latina yelled as they fell to the ground in a heap of tiny fists and flailing legs.
Already tears were rolling down David's cheeks and behind her she could hear the other boys gasping at her language and yelling that they were going to go tell on her. Santana had just managed to grab a fistful of the boy's hair when she felt herself being physically lifted into the air by the back of her shirt.
"Jesus Christ, you're like an angry little chihuahua aren't you," the adult who was holding her in the air groused as Santana kept trying to get to the now bawling boy in the dirt. "You better run Tubby before I set her back down," the woman said, and then chuckled when Dave ran off, his face covered in dirt and tears.
"Let me go," Santana yelled indignantly as the woman twisted her four-foot body around.
"Alright, alright," the woman said, laughing as she sat Santana down on the ground. "Do me a favor and call me when you get to High School, okay kid? Ask for Sue," the adult said before walking away.
Grumbling, Santana started to brush the dirt off of her shirt, stopping when she heard sniffling behind her. Suddenly she remembered the girl and quickly turned around to see her staring up at her, her face covered in tear tracks. "Are you okay?" She asked walking over to her and crouching down next to her, an unsure hand awkwardly patting her back.
Her jaw tightening, sniffling hard, Rachel wordlessly grabbed the taller girl's hand, and dragged her over to her backpack, which was next to the rest of the kids'. She pulled out a small box of band aids. It was a mixed box, full of little band aids that Rachel had essentially collected from other boxes. She turned to the girl, doing her best not to look like she had been close to tears at all, because crying in front of the other kids always made them laugh at her more.
"I have band aids," she said, holding the box out to the girl with both hands. "There are Hello Kitty, gold stars, those are my favorite, some dinosaur ones for Noah but don't tell him because he likes to pretend we don't know one another, and I have this one with polka dots- they're really cute- and lions, and hearts, and-" Suddenly, she snapped her mouth shut, face flushing. "Sorry. I talk too much. Or that's what everyone says. But um. Here."
She waited for the tanned girl to pick out a band aid, then took it from her, opening it up and sticking it right on the scraped elbow. "You uh- you need to clean it. But you probably know that. But my Daddy says that band aids make icky things stay out like bacteria and ammonia so that it won't be infected," rambled the small girl, before snapping her mouth shut again, face even brighter red than it had been seconds ago.
The girl really, really did talk a lot, but Santana really did not care. She was being nice to her and was the first person to do so since they had moved away from home. "T-thank you," the feisty little girl said, poking at the lion band-aid on her arm a few times.
"You know a lot of big words. It's cool! You must be the smartest girl in the whole school." She was trying extremely hard to be nice. That was nice right? Her Mama always said she should say nice things to people if she wanted to make a lot of friends, which was apparently super important for some reason the ten year old had yet to discover. "My Abuela told me about inflections...I think...she talks too fast sometimes...anyways...I'm Santana," she said, awkwardly shoving her hand out in front of her like she had been jabbed in the back.
Smiling, surprised by the positive reaction, Rachel's eyes practically sparkled. "The word is infection. Inflection is for talking." She quickly took the girl's hand, though, shaking it like how her daddies had taught her to do when meeting adults. "I'm Rachel Barbra Berry. Like from Friends, and the greatest singer in the whole world, and the fruit. I'm Jewish and Black and have two dads. It's a pleasure to meet you, Santana. You're really pretty."
It was a lot of information to take in at once, and Santana did not understand the majority of what the other girl has just said, but she nodded none the less and felt her face flush when Rachel called her pretty. "Oh...uh...t-thank you," the Latina stammered, looking back down at her bandaid covered arm to hide her embarrassment. They stood there in silence for a moment before Santana realized Rachel's dress was covered in dirt and frowned. "Do they pick on you a lot? Because if they do I'll go kick all their butts, I'm learning how to be a kickerboxer this summer. Abuela is paying for the classes for my birthday, so I can learn how to fight Lima Heights style...whatever that means." she said, doing her best to brush the dirt off of the shorter girl.
"Violence is bad," Rachel replied, giggling when Santana's hands tickled her sides. "But I don't have a lot of friends. We should be friends! Come on, I'll introduce you to Kurt and Mercedes and Brittany. They're nice to me almost all the time." With that, taking Santana's hand in hers, once again she dragged the girl away, headed for a small group of kids near the other side of the playground, grinning brightly and telling her new friend all about how she was going to be a famous singer some day, and asking if Santana had ever seen the movie Funny Girl.
"'Tana you came!" Rachel ran up to the Latina girl, stopping short, nearly toppling over in her haste to put on her breaks, and straightened up exactly a foot away. She smiled up at the girl, hands clasped together in front of her as she tried to keep from clapping excitedly. "I'm sorry to say that you're the only one here, because Kurt and Mercedes had to visit their families this weekend, Brittany is in Norway- but you know that already, Noah is grounded, and um… Everyone else just couldn't make it. But you're here and that's really great!"
She pulled her friend into the house, waving at the adult in the car that was in the driveway before they drove off, and then closing the door.
"Daddy! Santana is here!" she yelled out, and a taller man with glasses, dressed in fairly casual dress shirt and slacks, peered out from the kitchen door.
"Hello, ! Welcome back to Casa de Berry," the man greeted. "Snacks in an hour, ladies. Sweetie pie, help Santana get her stuff set up in the basement, okay?"
"Yes, Daddy~" sang the little girl, already practically skipping to the stairs, her hand still wrapped in the ever so slightly larger one that was her friend's.
"We have movies, and snacks, and Dad said we could eat candy tonight as long as we ate all of our dinner. Daddy is making pizza by hand. I asked him not to put meat on mine but there's bacon and sausage on the other one. Oh! And we can stay up until ten tonight. But we have to be kinda quiet."
Santana nodded along eagerly as her friend talked. She had figured out after a few weeks of knowing Rachel that it was best to just let her keep going until she stopped or she would pout, and Santana just couldn't handle that pout. Friday Puck had made her pout and Santana had secretly dripped paint in his seat and ruined his new jeans, which was probably why he was grounded. She decided it was best to not tell Rachel that.
When the shorter girl did stop talking Santana wanted to kick her own butt because she just kind of stared at her in silence for a minute before realizing she ought to respond.
"O-oh! That's all really cool. I've never been allowed to stay up till ten before. Sometimes when my older cousin watches me she'll let me stay up till nine but then her stupid stinky boyfriend comes over and I have to go to bed. Your Dads are cool," she said, finally setting her stuff down on the floor and looking around Rachel's basement, her eyes widening almost comically when she saw the entertainment center. "You have a Playstation 2?! That's so cool! And an XBox? Can I just live here with you? I promise I'll play whatever you want!"
Blushing, looking down, Rachel shuffled her feet. "Um… I don't know how to play them. Dad and Daddy use them a lot. I just play movies on them. But I'm sure Daddy would play with you!" she tried adding, hoping that Santana would still think she was cool.
Santana's excited smile turned into a frown when Rachel looked down. She knew that tone of voice and it made her feel all grumbly inside. "That's okay," she said quickly grabbing the shorter girls hand. "I only wanna play with you because you're my best friend. I could teach you. Or, or we could play something else. Anything you want, Rach."
The smaller girl immediately brightened up, eyes shining happily. "You'd teach me?" she asked, voice clearly disbelieving. "No one EVER wants to teach me to play the video games. I mean, Dad and Daddy tried once but then I got bored and wanted to sing instead. Noah gets mad at me, and Dave doesn't like me playing. He says video games are for boys. But don't beat him up! Stop with that face. That's your 'I'm going to beat someone up' face."
Honestly, by this point, Rachel knew Santana's faces pretty well. She was an aspiring actress, after all. Those things were important. And the moment she had mentioned what Dave always told her when she asked to play with them, her friend's face definitely was the violent one.
Santana was indeed scowling like an angry little imp. Huffing she crossed her arms in front of her. "I won't beat him up but only because you asked me not to. I think him and Puck are just big buttheads sometimes, especially David," the ten year old grumped.
"And he's wrong too because I like playing video games and I'm not a boy, my Mami said so, and I could beat him so bad at Mario Kart he would cry. And, and- I'm going to teach you how to play it too so we can be cooler than them together." Santana said, huffing and nodding her head stubbornly. And then, awkwardly, she added, "but first can we go get water? I'm thirsty."
Rachel was literally jumping up and down, her grin absolutely ear-splitting. "YES! I know the Mario game, too. I mean I know of it. Oh! This is so exciting! You're the best friend in the world, Santana!" She all but tackled the girl, then quickly pulled away, blushing hotly from embarrassment. "Sorry! I should have asked. I usually ask before I hug people. It's polite. Oh- You wanted water." As was normal, she grabbed the Latina's hand, dragging her upstairs and to the kitchen.
Being the polite hostess that her dads had taught her to be, Rachel scooted out the tall bar stool for Santana to sit in, then climbed up on the one next to it. "Daddy, Santana says she would like water because she's thirsty. And can we have strawberries please?"
Hiram, or 'Daddy', laughed, already headed to the fridge. "Get the water, pumpkin pie. Your stepping stool is next to the counter already. I'll cut up some strawberries for you both."
Rachel near fell out of her stool in her hurry to get Santana's water. She had to essentially climb up on the counter to get a cup, but then climbed back down, stepping up on her stool to turn the faucet on. Once the cup was filled she carefully carried it to the breakfast counter, set it next to Santana, then climbed back onto her seat just in time for a bowl of strawberries to appear between the two girls.
Santana remembered to politely thank Mr. Berry, stuttering and shaking her head when he told her to call him Hiram, and eventually agreeing that Mr. Hiram was okay. The man went back to whatever he had been doing at the counter and Santana turned back to look at Rachel. Her indignant anger downstairs had gotten her agitated, and water always seemed to calm her down, so she took three long sips before setting down the cup and picking up a strawberry, nervously moving it back and forth in her hands.
"Um...I just...just so you know, you don't ever have to ask me if you can hug me. I like your hugs. They make me feel all warm and happy and stuff. Like, you're the best hugger ever I think," the lanky ten year old managed to stammer out, her eyes not leaving the red piece of fruit in her hand. "So...yeah…"
The other girl looked near tears, and didn't notice Hiram quietly tip-toeing out of the kitchen. She sniffled. "You- You like my hugs?" she asked, unsure if she could really believe it. "You don't think I'm too small, or clingy, or loud and stuff?"
"Uh-uh," Santana said, quickly whipping her head side to side. "I mean yes, I like your hugs, not uh-uh to that. I mean uh-uh I don't think you're too small. I think you're perfect sized to be my best friend. And I don't know what clingy really means. And I like that you're loud because it's cool and stuff," Santana stammered out all in one breath. Furrowing her brows she looked down at the fruit in her hand and then back up at Rachel. "You're the coolest ever, and I want to be your protectioner, so you can always hug me."
Sniffling a little more, wiping her eyes, Rachel gave Santana a watery smile. "It's protector. Protectioner isn't a word." She took the fruit out of Santana's hand, interlaced it with hers, and giggled. "I'll always give you hugs, then. Forever and ever."
Santana grinned proudly and squeezed Rachel's hand. "Good then, it's a deal," she said, giggling and kicking her feet under her chair.
A moment later the Berry men walked into the room. Their eyes looked a little red, and though Rachel didn't notice Santana sure did, but she didn't say anything. Stuff like that wasn't something grownups liked to talk about after all. But after that day Santana was a fixture in the Berry house, free to come and go whenever, and subject only to the rules Rachel was.
The day was absolutely perfect as a now eleven year old Santana chased Puck around the park, giggling like crazy as he yelled at her to stop. "You started it, Puckerman!" She yelled, running faster, showing off even, when they crossed in front of Rachel and Brittany, who were collecting flowers and watching them with amusement.
"Rachel tell her to stop!" Puck yelped as the feisty Latina cornered him in the playground equipment.
Giggling, Rachel got up, skipping over to them, a flower crown in her hand. She set it on Santana's head. "Be nice to Noah, 'Tana. He gave you his cookie today, remember? That was really nice of him."
Puck puffed his chest out, proud of himself due to Rachel's words. He didn't say anything, though, not wanting to give Santana a reason to go after him again. Instead, with a quick hug to Rachel from behind as a thank you, lifting her off the ground just to hear her yelp, the boy ran off to see what Finn and Dave were doing on the monkey bars.
Rachel patted down her dress, smiling up at Santana. "You look pretty again. You always look pretty, but you're even more pretty when you smile like that. It makes your nose do that scrunch thing and your eyes sparkle. Like stars. And I love stars."
Santana's face flushed and she instantly shuffled her feet shyly. "Awe Rach...you're prettier," the Latina said, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. "And I know you love stars. You're going to be a big huge one some day and I'll be your cool bodyguard who wears sunglasses and talks into my watch."
Just then Brittany yelped loudly and Santana quickly turned to the blonde to see all of their flowers scattered around her and one of the bigger kids running away, laughing loudly and holding the Mario Kart star plushy Santana had gotten for Rachel in his hands.
"Hey bring that back here you stupid jerk!" Santana shouted, already chasing the older boy across the field, her lips pulled back in a furious sneer. Behind her she could hear Rachel shouting something and then she heard Puck yell back to her.
"Come and get it Loser!" The boy taunted, looking over his shoulder and letting out a yelp of surprise when he realized that Santana was obviously a lot faster than he thought she would be.
"Give it back now!" Santana yelled, reaching out, her fingers just grazing the back of his shirt.
"If you want it so bad go get it," he yelled, suddenly stopping and causing the Latina to run into his back and fall to the dirt with a grunt. Santana watched with wide eyes as he brought his arm back and then the present she had spent three months saving her allowance for was sailing through the sky and getting stuck in a tree. The boy let out an obnoxious laugh before kicking dirt at Santana and running away.
"Butthead!" Santana yelled at the retreating boy before looking up at the tree, her eyes narrowing with determination.
A second later Puck ran up next to her, gasping for air, followed by Rachel, Brittany, Finn, and Dave. "Oh man that's high up there," Puck sighed, looking up at the tree.
"It's not that high. Come on and let me stand on your back Puck," Santana said, pushing the boy forwards and pointing at the ground.
Just as she put a foot on his back she heard Rachel's voice and froze.
"Santana Maria Lopez don't you dare! We're not supposed to climb trees and that one's super high!" She was breathing a little hard from running over, and now a look of pure determination was on her face.
Puck was grinning though from his hands and knees. "Santana's like a monkey, Rachel! She can totally do it!"
"Yeah! San is the greatest," added Brittany, and Rachel huffed, stomping her foot on the ground.
"B-but what if she falls?!"
Inside, Rachel was terrified. Her dads had told her what could happen if she climbed trees and fell. Broken bones, or necks, or- or paralyzation! She bit her lip, wringing her hands with worry as the other kids cheered Santana on, insisting that she should, in fact, climb the tree. Dave even offered to watch out for any adults, just in case.
"I'll be fine Rach! I won't fall," Santana assured her friend before turning back to the tree and clambering up on Puck's back. Her little tongue stuck out from between her lips in determination as she looked up at the first sturdy tree branch that was just out of her reach.
She must have taken too long because suddenly Dave called out to her and startled her so bad she nearly toppled off of Puck. "Well go on and do it then!"
"Shut up Dave, I'm gonna," Santana yelled back scowling angrily at the tree branch and cursing her height.
"I can do it. I'm taller," Finn said running up and stopping next to them.
Huffing stubbornly Santana shook her head and looked back up at the branch. She counted down to three and then jumped with all her strength, a cheer of victory leaving her lips when she caught hold of the branch and was able to scramble up the tree. "Told you I could do it," Santana said sticking her tongue out at Dave and then flashing a large proud smile at Rachel.
She really was a good climber. Quickly she worked her way up the large branches until her hands closed around Rachel's star plushy. Down on the ground her friends cheered for her and Rachel was looking at her in mixed awe and worry.
"Please come down now, 'Tana!" Rachel called up, voice anxious and full of worry. She was looking around, not sure if she wanted an adult to appear or not. But the girl's eyes quickly went right back to Santana, just in time to see her friend's foot slip. "'Tana!"
Santana's little heart almost leapt out of her chest when her foot slipped on a patch of moss and she went down. Scrambling like a squirrel she only just managed to wrap her arms around another branch and get her footing back. "I'm okay," she yelled back to Rachel immediately, ignoring the other kids.
And then, a little more carefully than before, she made her way back down the tree until she could leap down. The hard compacted dirt smarted like crazy when her knee made contact with it, but the scrappy eleven year old hid it well as she walked over to Rachel, as close to a swagger as an eleven year old could get. "Here you go, Rach," she said, flushing and holding the plush out to her best friend.
Not even bothering to take the toy, Rachel hurled herself at Santana, hugging her small body to her friend's and holding tight. "Don't EVER scare me like that ever ever ever again, Santana Lopez! You could have fallen and DIED and bodyguards aren't supposed to die because then they can't be bodyguards and talk into their watches!"
Flushing like crazy, the eleven year old let her friend fuss over her. "Okay, okay Rach," she assured the girl, smiling so wide it hurt. "I promise next time…I won't slip," she said giggling and running her hands down the shorter girls side, digging her fingers in to where she knew Rachel was the most ticklish. Rachel let out a shriek of laughter and tried to twirl away from her but Santana took them both to the ground, not letting up her assault. "Say Santana Lopez is the best tree climber in the world!" She giggled wildly.
Shrieking and laughing, doing her best to squirm away but to no avail, her friend stronger and with the better leverage, Rachel desperately tried to cover her sides, only to expose under her arms, or her neck. "NOOOO!" she whined, face completely flushed. "T-Tana stop! EEK! Oh no!"
Finally, getting exhausted, Rachel managed to force out "S-Santana is- the- the greEAST- please stop please stop!" giggled the girl, desperately trying to get away from Santana's deft fingers.
Breathing hard, her sides absolutely aching from laughter, Santana let up her tickling assault and looked down at Rachel. "That's right," she said cheekily. "And I'm gonna be the best bodyguard ever in history and don't you forget it," she added, and then acting on pure childish instinct she leaned over and pressed a sloppy kiss against the flushed cheek of her best friend.
Before Rachel could attempt to speak, eyes wide and face hot with weird, completely unfamiliar feelings, there was suddenly,
"RACHEL AND 'TANA SITTIN' IN A TREE! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"
Brittany was the only one that had remained after Santana had gotten down from her climb, and was giggling madly at her friends. She ran off, still singing loud enough for the whole playground to hear, and as Santana scurried up, grabbing Rachel's hands to help her up off the ground, the small girl could only smile brightly, refusing to let the Latina's hand go.
At exactly 11 and a half years old, Rachel found out that not everyone's parents were as incredible as hers. And, while she had always sort of known that Santana's parents were… different, she hadn't paid it much mind, or really had the chance to.
But then she realized- see also found out from her dad who made her promise not to say anything- that Santana's parents hadn't celebrated her friend's 12th birthday. And that was a pretty important birthday, Rachel knew. It was the last birthday of childhood, until a youth reached the turmoil-fueled days of teenagerdom. That deserved an amazing birthday, in Rachel Berry's opinion.
But, since she couldn't really provide that, a present and a card would have to do.
Thus, she was skipping up to Santana's house, having ridden her bike there, with a small box and a card she had made by hand. Ringing the doorbell, she waited patiently for Santana to let her in. And she definitely noticed that neither of the Lopez parents were home.
Santana grumbled as she got up from the couch and walked to answer the door. The girl had been in a bad mood ever since yesterday when her parents had rushed out the door in the morning, her Mami calling a 'Happy Birthday' over her shoulder, and her Papi just not saying anything. She had thought, maybe when she got home from school, that her parents would be waiting with cake and presents, but no such luck.
"Who is it?" She asked stepping up to the large ornate door and putting her hand on the lock.
"It's your very bestest and most adorable and talented friend ever~" sang the slightly younger girl, rocking back and forth on her heels and humming Don't Rain On My Parade under her breath.
The door clicked open, and then she was being pulled into the house, and into a tight hug, put up on her tiptoes in the process. "Hi, 'tana," she forced out. "Can I please breathe? I have presents and things."
Santana found herself ridiculously excited to hear Rachel's voice filter through her door. If there was anything that could put her in a good mood it was Rachel. Quickly the Latina forced a smile on her face, because Rachel always got sad when Santana looked sad, and swung open the door, instantly pulling the shorter girl into a hug.
"Oh, sorry," Santana said releasing her friend and backing up. "Mami says I need to learn to control my strength and did you just say you have presents?" She asked, her mouth snapping shut and face flushing from embarrassment.
Rachel giggled, leaning up to kiss Santana on the cheek. "It's okay. I like that you're so strong. Bodyguards are supposed to be strong, right?" Without replying to the question about presents, Rachel carried the bag she had over her shoulder into the house further, headed towards the stairs and Santana's bedroom. She paused, reached back, took hold of the Latina's hand, then continued on, swinging their hands back and forth.
"How's kick-boxing? Brittany and Dave told me that you took a test and went up in belt or rank or something? I didn't quite understand everything they were saying and Brittany was talking really fast, but why didn't you tell me at school! That sounds really great! And it's definitely one of the many reasons you're getting so strong- Oh! Did your dad say you could join soccer? You said you were going to ask him but then you didn't say when or if you had and-" she continued to ramble on, not really letting Santana get a word in or answer any questions. They reached the bedroom, and Rachel didn't hesitate to clamber up onto her friend's tall bed and sit down, legs tucked under her and her dress. "Anyway," she finally came to an end. "Presents! Here. Open the bag." She gave the bag over to Santana.
Inside was a small box that held a chocolate cupcake that her Dad had helped her buy. There was also a card that she had made, all by herself. It was fairly large. with a poorly drawn dragon on the front breathing fire and saying "RAWR YOU'RE THE BEST!", surrounded by hearts and gold stars. Inside the card had a long, long message of Rachel listing all the reasons she thought that Santana was, indeed, the best, in her chicken-scratch handwriting.
Santana happily let the tiny girl ramble on, each word making her feel better about life in general. And then there was a cupcake and a card being shoved at her and the Latina couldn't help but tackle her friend into a big hug. "Thank you, Rachel!" Santana shouted before pressing a sloppy kiss to the girls cheek and opening up the cupcake. "Do you want to eat some of it or is it not vege-vege-...that word."
"Vegan. And it's not. Because you always say my vegan stuff tastes funny and you deserve lots and lots of sugar," Rachel interjected, slightly blushing from the kiss on her cheek.
"Mkay," Santana said, happily taking a large bite out of the cupcake and releasing a very pleased sound. Wiping her mouth she smiled at her best friend. Rachel's rambling was something Santana was very used to by this point and she used the other girl's silence to answer all the questions that had been asked while being dragged up the stairs. "And I did go up a belt. I'm an orange belt now and I'm the youngest orange belt at the school. My teacher says that I'm gonna be a black belt before I know it. And I...I didn't get a chance to ask my Papi about soccer yet. He's really busy at work right now," she explained, taking bites out of the cupcake while she spoke. "But Mami said they're going to take me out to Breadsticks for dinner tomorrow night and I'll ask him then."
Now finished with her cupcake, the wiry twelve year old sat the empty container aside and picked up the card, smiling widely at the dragon on the front. "Dragons are so cool," she said, opening up the card and starting to read the message inside. Across from her Rachel let out a little huff and Santana looked up in confusion. "What'd I do?"
"You always eat so sloppy… It's gross." Reaching over to the napkins she had brought with her, Rachel started cleaning off Santana's face. "Read the card, okay? I spent almost an hour writing it because it had to be perfect for you."
Santana giggled and shook her head as Rachel began wiping her face and turned her attention back to the card. Silently she read over it, a warm strange feeling bubbling up in her stomach with every word. It was by far the best present she had ever gotten and it was just words. She finished it just about the time Rachel finished cleaning off her face and she was silent for a few moments, unbidden tears springing up in her eyes. Forcing them down she looked up at Rachel with watery eyes. "T-thank you Rachel. You're...you're amazing," she said before lurching forwards to wrap the shorter girl up in a tight hug, trying her best to communicate how she was feeling with just her touch.
The best thing about Rachel was she seemed to understand that Santana wasn't good with words, because she just hugged the Latina back as tight as she could. When evening came and Rachel had to go home, Santana watched her leave with a smile, thinking to herself that she was probably the luckiest twelve year old in the world.
"Okay Tiny-"
"I'm not tiny."
"Yes you are, it's cute," a now 13 year old Santana said, shaking her head and looking down at her best friend. The Latina had hit a growth spurt a few months ago and every day she seemingly shot up another inch, until she was now half a foot taller than the singer. Height wasn't her only gain either, already her body was starting to mature, her chest was starting to become pronounced, and her legs and arms were starting to gain the tone and definition that would in a few years make her an unstoppable force of strength and stamina.
"Now if you'll let me finish. The first thing you need to do is put a foot on the board," Santana said, pushing a skateboard towards Rachel with her foot.
Huffing, Rachel pouted. It wasn't enough that Santana had to keep getting stronger, but now the girl was a whole half foot taller and could easily lift up her small frame- and did, all the time, just because. "This is bad idea," she replied, looking down wearily at the skateboard. "I don't have a helmet, or knee pads, or elbow pads. Or gloves. I could fall and break all of my bones. I can't become the next Barbra Streisand if I'm broken in pieces, Santana Lopez," the singer insisted, taking a step back from the skateboard.
"You'll be fine Rach," Santana chuckled, getting behind the shorter teenager and pushing her back towards the board. "I promise you won't break every bone in your body and if you fall I might even catch you," she teased cheekily before walking around to the other side of the board. "And you were the one who said you wanted to learn, remember?"
Pout firmly in place now, she glared at Santana. "That's- That's not the point. I was caught up in the moment of watching you do that flip thing on the turn pipe, or whatever it's called. I'll just stand here, and you can do tricks and stuff." Rachel attempted to make a subtle, but quick escape. She wasn't fast enough, however, and before she knew it Santana's arms were around her waist and she was lifted off her feet.
"'Ta-naaaa! Let me down!" the smaller girl reprimanded, arms and legs flailing uselessly as she found herself being walked back to the waiting skateboard. "This is very rude of you. I am incredibly upset with you now and may never find it in myself to offer you forgiveness for this outrage."
Laughing hard, Santana held her best friend above the skateboard. "Well I'm a very rude person and you'll forgive me when you're doing sic moves on the half-pipe. Now stop moving and just relax. I'm gonna set you down on the board and all you have to do is hold on to my shoulders okay?" Santana said, and then waited patiently for Rachel to stop struggling.
Santana's face was one of intense concentration as she lowered the petite girl down on to the skateboard and steadied her carefully. "See look at that, you're standing on it like a pro already," she teased, pinching the girl's side lightly.
Rachel clung to Santana's shoulders like a lifeline, her legs shaking slightly, completely unfamiliar with the slight movement that the skateboard would make every so often under foot. The board jerked slightly and she screeched, throwing herself against Santana's body and refusing to let go. Were she able, she would have probably clambered up Santana's body.
Instead, she found her face nearly in the girl's growing chest, and glared at a smirking Latina. "You did that on purpose!"
Santana was considering whether to shake the girl in her arms a little, just enough to get another shriek out of her, when suddenly her body became extremely hot. Choking back a laugh she looked down as Rachel's hot breath filtered through her shirt, making her entire body flush head to toes. A wholly unfamiliar tingling sensation settled in her stomach and with a start the Latina felt herself getting suddenly hard for the first time in her life.
Her Papi had very embarrassingly sat her down a few months ago, and explained in technical terms what her body was going through, but she definitely wasn't prepared for this. Yelping, the Latina jerked back, causing the skateboard under Rachel's feet to shoot away as her friend stumbled forwards. In seemingly slow motion she watched in horror as Rachel fell to the ground in front of her, her knees slamming down hard first.
"Oh shit!" Santana yelped, her body freezing. "Rachel I'm so so sorry!"
Crying out as she fell forward, her knees hitting the ground send a shooting pain through her legs, and she could feel them and the palms of her hands scrape harshly against the blacktop under them. Whimpering, eyes filling with tears, Rachel couldn't even hold onto her knees as a reflexive action, her hands shaking and stinging just as much as her knees.
"L-language-" she choked out, swallowing harshly, her lips tight and jaw clenched as she did her very best not to start crying right there on Santana's driveway.
Horrible could not even describe how Santana felt. Immediately the Latina was kneeling down next to Rachel and putting an arm around her. "I'm so so sorry Rachel. My...I...my leg cramped and it hurt and I didn't mean to pull back so hard. Oh god is anything broken? Should I call 911? Please don't hate me," Santana rambled on before a fierce wave of determination passed through her body and she was gently looping her arms under Rachel's body. "I'm going to carry you inside and get help okay?"
She sniffled, nodding her head at Santana's words at certain moments and shaking it at others. When she felt her friend lifting her up, she swallowed audibly again, curling into the taller girl's body and trying not to touch any of her scrapes.
"I don't like s-skateboarding an-anymore," she whimpered, sniffling hard once more.
"Neither do I," Santana grumbled, glaring at the offending skateboard and easily carrying the petite girl towards her house. "After we clean off your knees and hands we can do anything you want I promise. I'm so sorry," the Latina said again, mentally kicking herself and making a note to have that talk again with her father. Apparently there were a few really important details she had missed in there.
Santana like loud music. Like really REALLY loud music. Currently the toned 14 year old was jamming out, singing at the top of her lungs, to So What by P!nk, and she thought she was doing a hell of a job. The girl had been in the middle of getting ready to go to the mall with Rachel when the song had started playing, and now she was currently jumping up and down on her bed, naked below the waist, singing into her hairbrush like there was no tomorrow.
She had just hit the second chorus, fist high in the air, when suddenly she spun around, and saw Rachel staring up at her with wide eyes. It would have been comical, if it weren't the most terrifying of Santana's young life.
The Latina was still for a second, frozen in place, before self preservation kicked in and she did the most ungraceful flip off the other side of her bed imaginable. "Ohmygodohmygodohmgod," she shrieked, nearly hyperventilating as she scrambled to pull the blanket off of her bed and cover up, what had been, her most deeply guarded secret ever.
It took a moment, but when Rachel finally found her voice, face red as a tomato, she took deep breath, stomping her foot. "SANTANA MARIA LOPEZ!" Stomping further into the room, she huffed. "I cannot believe you! Have you no sense of decency!? Not only are you up here NOT preparing for our well-planned and limited time together at the mall, but you aren't even ready to begin with! And you are leaving a guest downstairs waiting for what has been exactly five minutes and 25- no, 26 seconds. Now 28. Anyway. Hurry and get dressed so that we can go." She turned around, intent on headed out of the room again, then paused, looking back.
"Oh! Also, your C note was flat. Don't worry, it's an easy fix. Hurry up, 'tana~" And then she was halfway down the hall before Santana could process anything, much less get a word in.
Santana stared at the empty doorway for a long moment, caught somewhere between surprise, mortification, and confusion. Her brain had completely shorted out it seemed as she tried to reason what had just happened. Rachel had walked in on her naked from the waist down. Rachel had seen that she had a penis. Or maybe she didn't see it. Maybe she thought Santana was...had...no...she had definitely seen it. For Christ's sake she had been doing a very impressive impression of a helicopter down there.
When she was little Santana hadn't thought anything about what she was packing in her jeans. She was a kid and she assumed that all little kids had pretty much the same thing. And then as she got older, she started realizing that she wasn't normal, that there was a reason her mother got her such tight underwear and such baggy jeans. She had thought a million things about her condition over the years, but the most prevalent thought in her mind was, no one can find out, because it could only end in disaster. So...to have Rachel blow into her room, see her junk, and then lecture her on proper hostess etiquette without so much as batting an eye, was far too much to handle.
The Latina let out a very undignified squawk of sorts, something between a laugh and a sob before falling to the floor in a heap of blankets. Large tears sprang to her eyes and she tried taking a deep breath only to let out another of the weird sounds.
When Santana wasn't downstairs three minutes later, Rachel was back up, sighing in somewhat annoyance. She opened Santana's door, then frowned, worry wrinkling her brow. "Santana? Why are you crying?" She approached her friend, kneeling down slowly next to her and patting her back. "'tana..., it's okay. Everyone gets flat sometimes. It's an easy vocal error to solve, and of course I can help you. My vocal teachers are excellent, and I know all the tricks. We'll have you singing just like P!nk in less than two weeks. Or maybe even one week!" insisted the smaller girl.
Santana did not even know how to respond. Weakly she waved her hands in front of Rachel's face, sniffling so hard her body shuddered. When the shorter girl looked at her in silent confusion the Latina blew out a deep ragged breath. "R-rach…" she stuttered, trying hard to keep going, lest she started full on balling like a baby, "d-did you not notice anything else besides me fucking up a C note?"
Rachel blinked, pouting indignantly. "Of course I did. You weren't even dressed to go to the mall. Well, you still aren't. But that's inconsequential at this point I suppose. Um… Hm… You… Oh! The cut on your knee is healing quite well, too."
Santana's mouth hung open for a good long moment, her eyes glancing down at her knee for some reason before looking back at her best friend. Taking a deep breath the kickboxer put both hands on Rachel's shoulders and pulled her forwards until their faces were inches apart. "Rachel. I have a dick. I am a female and I have a dick. This is where you're supposed to freak out. I was told this is when anyone would freak out," the Latina said, her voice level now, tears completely washed away in her utter confusion.
Another annoyed huff. "It's called a penis, Santana. Not a dick. Vulgar language is naughty and you shouldn't say it. Also, proper anatomical and medical vocabulary is essential to being well educated and able to communicate about sex and sexuality clearly." Rachel took another breath, tapping Santana on her nose and smiling when the Latina's face scrunched up. "Yes, you've a penis. If we're talking about such things, I have a vagina. And, while it is considered 'normal' for a girl to have my anatomy, it is not unheard of, nor wrong, to have your anatomy. Also, I did freak out. Walking in on my best friend naked for the first time is weird, and that C note really was flat…" finished Rachel with a bit of a pout.
If ever Santana had understood the meaning of a weight being lifted off one's shoulders it was that moment. Vaguely she was aware that Rachel was talking, and her heart nearly leapt into throat when she heard the word vagina get tossed out there, but honestly she wouldn't have been able to repeat anything back except that word. Rachel's voice was what she was paying attention to. She realized with a start, and then a flood of emotions, that there was no discernible difference between how Rachel's voice had sounded thirty minutes ago, and how it sounded now. There was no fear like her father had said there might be, no disgust like her Abuela had said would definitely be there, there was just Rachel Berry, her best friend.
The teenager let out a sharp bark of laughter, her throat still watery from crying, and pulled Rachel towards her with all of her strength, cuddling the surprised singer against her chest tightly. After a long moment she loosened her arms a bit. "You are the very best friend in the entire world Rachel Berry," she laughed shakily, ducking her head and letting it rest on the girl's shoulder. "The very best."
Flushing hotly, oddly hyper aware of her friend's growing boobs now pressed firmly to her cheek, not to mention how strong Santana was these days, Rachel squealed in surprise, sputtering and trying, without any success, to wiggle out of the tight hold. Eventually she gave up, and as she did so, felt Santana loosen her hold enough that it didn't feel like the Latina was trying to crush her ribs. Plus, she could move her face from the girl's chest.
Rachel looked up, still thoroughly confused. "Thank… you…?" she asked, unsure as to the sudden show of rigorous affection. "If we're going to cuddle instead of go shopping, can you put pants on? Or shorts? I don't think we're at the naked friends level yet. Also, that just makes me think of Noah too much and that's really weird."
And then, hand going up to lightly squeeze Santana's left bicep, Rachel giggled. "I think you could beat him in a lifting contest. At least the bench press right now. His muscles don't feel as hard as yours. I mean, I know eventually he'll be able to out-lift you, but you should take advantage of your growth spurt while you can. Which DOES NOT mean carrying me around OR throwing me over your shoulder!"
Leaning back the Latina wiped her face off and smiled widely at her friend. "I could kick his ass couldn't I?" She asked cheekily, winking when Rachel chastised her for her language. "Come on, I promised you vegan ice cream from that new shop in the mall and you shall get vegan ice cream."
When Rachel left her room the Latina sat on her bed, reflecting for a good long moment on what had just happened. Already the young teenager was getting a taste of the anxiousness and high strung emotions that would in a few years turn into a fully blown, barely controlled, anger issue. Her body was changing. Everything was changing. But right now? Right now she had her best friend and nothing had changed there.
A few minutes later she was running down the stairs and heading to the mall with the shorter girl. She picked Rachel up and threw her over her shoulder exactly seven times that day.
Santana was silent, thinking, as the rest of their group of friends talked animately about their first day of High School, which was now only days away. She had been in a great mood all day until Dave's older brother had picked her up and dropped her and Dave at the mall. The two friends had been going on about the sports programs they were already signed up for when the college student had started laughing at them. Confused, Dave had asked his brother what was so funny and he had explained to them that McKinley was not exactly the fun environment they were hoping for. He had explained hierarchy and the Cheerios and a ritual called slushying, and by the time the two teenagers had gotten out of his car they were both green in the face.
The thing was, Santana knew she could protect herself well enough, but from the sound of it, Brittany and Rachel were going to have a rough time. When the Latina had met up with Brittany a few moments later, fresh out of her first Cheerios practice her fears had only doubled as she listened to the blonde talk about the older Cheerios behaviors.
She was snapped from her silent fears by a flurry of movement and she blinked a few times before realizing the group was all standing up. "What's going on?" She asked looking to Rachel and then blanching slightly at the intense look she was getting from her best friend.
"They're going to catch a movie. I told them we'd be right behind," replied Rachel easily. She'd been watching Santana for the good last hour, studying her friend and trying to figure out what was going on in her head. Although she looked like she was simply zoned out, Rachel knew that look well. It was one of pure concentration and concern, and it bothered her. Especially since it seemed that Santana hadn't had any plans on telling her what was going on.
When the group was gone, Rachel turned fully to the Latina, brow furrowed. "That said, what's on your mind? You're freaking out. And you look like a deer in the headlights."
Santana chewed nervously on her bottom lip and looked down at the table, wondering if she could get away with lying to Rachel just this once. Sighing she leaned back and rubbed her face, shaking her head, "I'm just sleepy?" She said, the words coming out as more of a question than an answer. The look on Rachel's face was enough to tell Santana she wasn't buying it and the Latina took a deep breath. "I'm nervous about Monday...school...Dave's brother told us about McKinley...I don't think it's gonna go well," she admitted, her brows knit together in frustration.
Sighing, Rachel scooted closer. "Okay… So, not to make you feel like you weren't quite behind the eight ball on this one… but judging by my middle school experiences I could have already told you high school was going to be… less than stellar for me." She took Santana's hand then, offering a reassuring smile. "But you and Brittany? You'll be fine. You'll scare everyone into submission and Brittany is… Brittany. She's also on the cheerleading squad and that's instant protection I hear."
Santana shook her head and turned to the shorter girl, taking her hands in her own and looking down at them. "No, you don't get it Rachel. From what Dave's brother said McKinley is going to be hell. Basically anyone who's different, in even the slightest bit, gets shit every moment of every day. They throw slushies at people, they put them in trash cans, and that is some of the more tame stuff. And yeah as long as I can avoid the group showers somehow I'm gonna be okay, but not Brittany. She had her first practice this morning and some of the older girls were already calling her names, and apparently the new head cheerleader is a "really mean person", which we both know is Brittany speak for a huge bitch. And I'm just scared...I'm scared that something is gonna happen and I won't be able to stop it. And I'm terrified of my secret getting out, I can only imagine how well a chick with a dick would go over from the sound of that place. And my mom is already pressuring me to 'be popular' and I'm just freaking out and-"
"Santana, stop." Rachel situated herself right next to Santana, kissing her cheek and holding her hands tightly. "Brittany is a lot stronger than people think. She's very nice and sweet, and a little… odd at times. But between you and herself, it'll be okay." With a sigh, seeing that her words were to little effect, Rachel shook her head a little.
"'Tana, do what you need to do to feel safe. My fathers have told you that countless times. They've told both of us. And don't let Dave's brother freak you out. He's an asshole. ...Pardon my language."
Santana was silent, staring down at their linking hands and fighting back the tears her panic and frustration had brought on. And right under the surface of her fear was anger like she had never felt before. Rachel sounded so sure, so it had to be okay right? She could stroll in there on Monday with Rachel to her right and Brittany to her left and all of their other friends and nothing was gonna change.
Taking a deep shuddering breath she leant forwards and very gently rested her head on the shorter girl's shoulder, a few tears managing to slip out. "That's just the thing Rach, I don't know what to do to feel safe this time," she murmured.
Rachel bit her lip, wrapping an arm around Santana's waist, her other hand still holding her friend's tightly. Her mind was racing, and slowly, an idea was forming in her head. The more she worked out the plan, the tighter her chest constricted, but…
Swallowing hard, sitting up a little straighter and holding Santana a little tighter, the smaller girl cleared her throat. "Well, we'll figure it out. Everything is going to be fine, Santana. I promise. And a Berry never breaks their promises, ever."
It was two months into freshmen year, and everything was different. As Rachel walked through the halls, head held high and books tight to her chest, she caught a glimpse of Santana.
The taller girl was in a junior varsity jacket, already a striker for the JV soccer team, and was leaning up against her locker with a cocky smirk, surrounded by her teammates. She looked… well… maybe not 'happy', but safe. Yes, safe was the right word. And maybe it had come at the cost of their friendship, but… Rachel had said that it was important for Santana to do whatever was needed for her to feel safe. And she had meant that.
Besides, her plan had worked flawlessly. So well that she doubted Santana even knew what she had been doing until it was already done.
Suddenly, shooting, cold pain spread across her face, spiking up and down her spine and stopping her in her tracks, the breath nearly knocked from her lungs. Laughter filled the halls soon after, and she felt herself get pushed aside, someone, a girl, sneering "Stop hogging the hallway nose for brains". Stumbling, Rachel wiped some of the slushy from her eyes, and within seconds she felt two people next to her guiding her.
"Rachel, dear, we really need to work on your awareness…" That was Kurt, on her left.
"Fer real, girl. That bitch was walking straight towards you!" And that was Mercedes on her right.
They guided her to the bathroom, sat her down on the folding chair there, and began to help her clean up. "I was distracted…" mumbled the small singer with a small shiver and a shrug.
Santana had been listening to her team mates with feigned interest. She knew they were talking about the epic goal she had made on Friday and she felt a certain amount of pride sure, but they could have been talking about life on Mars for all she cared. The kickboxer had over the last two months perfected a unique emotional detachment to the world around her. She went to school, said and did what everyone else did, put in her time on the field, and then, only when she was safe in her house did she relax a little bit. Dave's brother might have been an asshole but he hadn't been kidding, this school was toxic, and it was beginning to wear her down. She was angry all the time it felt like.
A splash and the sound of her teammates boisterous laughter snapped her back to attention and she looked down the hall to see Rachel covered in slushy. Like every time it happened, Santana felt conflicting emotions. One part of her felt like it was being stabbed in the heart, another part felt like she was moments away from legit murder, and a small, shameful part of her felt resigned.
The two once best friends had barely spoken for two months now. The first few days of school had been rough and it seemed to have broken something between them. Rachel had started backing out of their time together, claiming extra dance practice and voice lessons and even obscure school clubs, until Santana realized that the shorter girl was just actively avoiding her, and...Santana had let her, because it was easier.
It was easier to avoid her best friend and not have to worry what people would say if there were seen together too much. It had created a fairly strong amount of self loathing in her, and it had risen her anger issues through the roof, but god it was easier.
Pushing herself off of her locker she casually strode down the hall, catching the Cheerio responsible for the slushy with her foot and sending her crashing to the ground. "My bad," Santana sneered, not skipping a beat as she continued down the hall, stopping outside of the bathroom Rachel, Kurt, and Mercedes had disappeared into and leaning next to the door. She sent a murderous glare to anyone that came near it and let her mind wander back to her usual detached state.
"You need to stop staring at her, Rachel…" Kurt was drying Rachel's hair, having already cleaned it thoroughly, and Mercedes was digging through the slushy kit looking for a new shirt for her smaller friend.
Rachel sighed. "I'm not staring. I told you, I was caught in my thoughts."
"About Santana," interjected Mercedes. Rachel rolled her eyes.
"Not about Santana. Listen, just… It's whatever. Are we auditioning for the school choir today or not?"
Kurt made a face. "No. I checked it out. The director is… ew… And none of them can really sing. I mean, not well. Not like us. But he's super bias. Definitely not worth it."
Nodding, finally finding one of Rachel's shirts, freshly pressed and folded, Mercedes walked back towards them. "Truth. Besides, how you gonna have time for singing? You have dance three times a week, vocal lessons four times a week, plus you're part of ten clubs and the president of six of those. You have got to slow down, Rachel."
"I can't. I need it all for my resume. If I'm ever going to get out of this hell hole-"
"Rachel, it's only two months into freshmen year…"
Kurt and Mercedes were looking at her sympathetically, and Rachel gave a heavy sigh. "Yeah… Just… seems like longer… I guess…"
Santana was watching Brittany down the hall talking with Quinn Fabray, the head cheerleader in training, when the bathroom door opened next to her. Raising a brow she, nodded as Kurt and Mercedes walked out first, followed by a now clean Rachel. With a quick glance up and down the hall to make sure no one was watching she caught Rachel by the hand and raised a brow, silently asking if she was okay, or at least as okay as she could be.
"Wha- Oh…" Rachel's jaw tightened ever so slightly at the feel of Santana's hand in her own, her heart skipping a beat and several emotions she had spent the last two months pushing away, trying to swell back up. Catching the look, Rachel just shrugged to her, gave a small, forced smile, and let her hand slip out of the soccer players. Without a word nor another glance, she hurried to catch up to Kurt and Mercedes. The warning bell had rung, and the halls were starting to empty. She had a perfect attendance to maintain, after all.
Santana watched Rachel go silently. Only when the girl disappeared down a hall did the Latina let out a muttered curse and slammed her fist behind her, smacking it against the wall of metal lockers with a crash loud enough to startle the few students left in the hall.
"What the fuck are you looking at?" She snapped at the nearest person before walking away, her hand already bruising.
"And so the penguin says, dude, he's not an eggplant, he's retarded," the football player, Markus, Santana thought, said making everyone around them laugh loudly. Santana laughed too, even if honestly she had no clue what the joke had been. All around them drunk high school students were reveling in their last night of freedom before Christmas break was over, and the house stunk of sweat and alcohol.
There was an arm around her shoulder suddenly and she looked up to find her current boyfriend Jake smiling drunkenly down at her. "Do you want another beer babe? I can get it for you," he slurred, his hand dipping down and brushing against her chest.
"That's okay baby," she said, her cheery voice sounding so fake in her own ears. "I'm gonna go use the restroom." She released a relieved breath when he nodded and let her go and she tried not to seem to eager to get away from him.
Quickly she made her way out of the crowded living room and found a quiet spot in the entrance way to breath. She hated these fucking parties with a passion, but it was expected of her to be at them, just like it was expected of her to have a boyfriend. Santana knew though, that after the party he was going to want at least a handjob and the thought made her skin crawl. The Latina had gotten into a pattern over the last two months. Get a boyfriend, keep him for as long as she could put off having actual sex, and then break up with him, and it was working so far, even if she was getting a reputation she hated. Well to be honest she had two reputations now. There was the girl who traded out boyfriends like socks, and then there was the short fuse that everyone steered clear of.
The anger that had been festering inside her for years had reached a boiling point and now the slightest things set her off. People in the halls looked at her like a ticking time bomb, and even most of the teachers walked around her like the floor was covered in egg shells.
It took several, deep breaths before the Latina was able to unclench her fists and she sighed, realizing that she would need to head back in there soon. She was just pushing off the wall when the front door opened and she felt her blood run cold at the sight of Rachel walking into the house, a random hockey player a few steps behind her. Before she even registered what she was doing she had closed the distance between them, violently shoved the hockey player out of her way, and was pushing Rachel out of the house, ignoring the girls very animated protests.
The whole thing was ridiculous, and Rachel hadn't even really wanted to go. But Kurt had insisted that when invited, they should definitely show up to parties. Otherwise what kind of high schoolers were they?
"Respectable ones…" the girl had replied, but her friend would hear none of it. So she had dressed up, promised to call her dads, and hopped into the sophomore who was taking them's car. The ride was awkward, and the guy had clearly been doing a favor for a friend. But still, it was a ride, and it was their first party, so Rachel supposed she should be grateful.
The whole time, though, all Rachel could think about was her real reasoning for finally agreeing to go in the first place.
It was guaranteed that Santana would be there, and… well… part of her hoped something would happen. Santana would welcome her, they'd have fun together, and everyone would be too drunk to care. They'd go back to ignoring one another at school, but at least they'd have that night to pretend like nothing had changed.
She had built up this idea so much, that when Rachel had finally walked through the door, she was smiling, ready to make it happen.
Instead, she found herself being forcefully removed from the house by a seething Latina, and the near-manhandling set all of her hopes for a fun evening ablaze, her otherwise even temper riling up as soon as Santana had pushed her out the door. "SANTANA MARIA LOPEZ UNHAND ME THIS INSTANT!" she shrieked indignantly, violently ripping her arm from the girl's grasp, absolutely fuming. "How DARE YOU!? Believe it or not Santana I AM allowed a social life just as much as you! You have NO RIGHT to- I can't even- URGH!" Stomping her foot, Rachel couldn't have been more upset had she tried.
"Are you done yet, Rachel?" Santana snapped, her arms crossed in front of her chest and her jaw tight as a drum. "Because you can yell all you want but you're going home right now. What the hell are you even do-"
"You are NOT in charge of me Santana Maria. I was INVITED, my fathers approved, and therefor-"
"Then your fathers are crazier than I fucking thought Rachel!" Santana yelled furiously, pulling the girl, as gently as she could considering how angry she was, away from the door. "This place is a shit hole and you are not going in there! You are going to go home now!"
"SHUT UP!" With an angry huff, once again tearing her arm away from the girl's grip. "And STOP forcing me to go where I don't want to. Just because you're stronger certainly does not give you that right! And finally, don't you ever, EVER insult my fathers!" Now too angry to bother with the party at all, and her only motivation clearly not wanting her with any of her popular friends, Rachel tightened her jacket around herself and angrily began walking in the direction of her home. It was over ten blocks but she didn't care. She could use the time to cool off, she figured.
"Fuck," Santana snapped, kicking the wall before going after Rachel. She...she hadn't meant to lose her cool like that. But Rachel couldn't be here with all these lame ass people who wouldn't give two shits if some football player tried to take her upstairs.
Taking a very deep breath she stepped around the shorter girl and held her hands up, making sure not to touch her. "Rachel...please," she said, swallowing as she tried to figure out the words she was looking for. "This...that party...all of these parties are jokes. They're a bunch of dumbass-"
"Language," Rachel tersed out, stopping in her tracks, backing up several feet from Santana with her arms tightly over her chest.
"Okay, sorry," Santana said lowering her hands and looking up at the dark sky before looking back to the shorter girl. "These parties are all the same. A bunch of jocks walking around with spiked beers, trying to get laid. And a bunch of stuck up bi-...girls talking trash about each other. At the end of the night everyone hooks up whether they actually want to or not and go home to do it all again next weekend," Santana said, crossing her arms and hugging herself tightly, uncomfortable, knowing that Rachel would pick up on what she wasn't saying...that her night was gonna end the same way. "You...you're better than that and you need to go home okay?"
With a heavy sigh, Rachel shifted just as uncomfortably, looking at the snowy sidewalk under her feet. "...Then why do you bother if you hate it so much, Santana…? Why don't you just come home with me…?" The question was nearly a plea, though she didn't look up at the taller girl, refused to meet her eyes.
Santana swallowed, painfully, and palmed the back of her neck. "I-I want to...but I can't Rachel. I have to go back in there and act like I'm having the time of my life. I-I'm not like you. I'm-"
"Popular. I know, Santana…" Sighing, this time in a tired way, Rachel just shook her head. "I'll see you at school tomorrow, Santana… Have a good night… Please be safe…" With that, not allowing the Latina to have another word in, Rachel stepped around her once-best-friend, quickened her pace, and headed home. She knew that, if she wanted to, Santana could easily catch up to her.
And she also knew that Santana wouldn't try.
Santana watched Rachel go with an unbelievable amount of shame and guilt. She tightly closed her eyes, letting a few tears escape, and whimpered slightly, whispering into the darkness, "I was gonna say terrified..."
Freshman English was a joke, Rachel had decided within the first week. They were still going over things that everyone should have known by 7th grade, and she was already so far ahead that she had asked their teacher if she could take the final and get it over with… The answer had been no, and she had been told that her grade would suffer if she didn't more fully participate in class. Which was ridiculous because she was one of all of three people that actively volunteered to read and answered questions. Not to mention actually did the reading on time…
With a sigh, Rachel set her things down on her desk, organizing her book and folder and notebook, ready to pretend that she was learning from the teacher and that she hadn't already covered every inch of material on her own.
The warning bell rang, and Rachel began the silent countdown for when the newest, so-called 'badass' of McKinley High would walk in.
At exactly thirty seconds before the final bell, in walked Santana, her junior varsity jacket thrown over her shoulder, books and papers haphazardly thrown together under her arm and cocky smirk across her lips.
Santana felt absolutely exhausted, but she had perfected the art of appearing otherwise. Ignoring the judging look the teacher shot her, the soccer player headed for her chair, purposefully letting it scrape loudly across the floor, before sitting down. A few of the other students laughed at her antic, and she smiled, but her focus was more on Rachel who was sitting in the chair next to her tensed up.
Rachel hadn't so much as looked at her since the party months ago, and Santana couldn't blame her. She still didn't regret a word she had said, but god did she miss her none the less, even if all they had done before then was nod at each other in passing and talk about work in their shared classes.
Already feeling bored, Santana opened her book up to the page on the board, and rolled her eyes when the teacher told them to read to themselves. The class muttered a faint acknowledgment of the directions and mostly started talking to the people next to them as the teacher no doubt checked her email. Santana looked down at the book and sighed, she had read the entire book back and forth already and couldn't be bothered to act like she was reading it again. Biting her bottom lip she chanced a glance at Rachel, smiling softly at the look of intense concentration on the girl's face.
Sensing eyes on her, very used to that by now, Rachel glanced up, and instantly blushed when she caught the smile on Santana's face. She looked away quickly, trying her best to concentrate again on the book, despite having already read it through what felt like a million times. ...Though it was probably only six…
Finally, after several minutes, Rachel bit her lip, glancing at Santana for a moment. "Um… Yes…?" she asked, somewhat disconcerted.
Santana nearly jumped in her seat at Rachel's turned attention and she made a very unbadass noise deep in her throat. Mind racing she opened and closed her mouth a few times before picking up her book, looking for the longest word she could find, and pushing the book in front of the petite girl. "How do you pronounce that?" She asked, grimacing slightly at the weird tone of her voice.
Blinking, looking at Santana with pure suspicion, Rachel tentatively leaned forward, closer to Santana, to look at the word she was pointing at. She looked back up to the girl, frowning, but then back to the book. "Disingenuous," she replied, saying it clearly. It reminded her of back in middle school, when Santana would legitimately have trouble pronouncing certain words.
The thought made her heart hurt, though, and she pushed it aside.
"It's… it's basically a one-worded way to describe Quinn Fabray," Rachel added, giving Santana a definition purely out of well-known habit.
Santana laughed at the definition Rachel gave her and shook her head. "It's a little more wordy than heinous bi-atch but I like it-,"
"Language. 'Bi-atch' is still vulgar." Habit, again. Rachel wondered if they would ever go away at this point.
"True, but if the vulgar word fits, right?" Santana chuckled, sending a dazzling smile at the singer and nudging her arm gently.
Blushing lightly again, the past blush only just having faded, Rachel returned the smile with a much smaller one, though sincere; if a little confused. "Quinn is… Quinn. I've little more to say about her, honestly…" Mostly out of self-preservation, Rachel finished mentally. "Anyway, we should get back to reading."
Santana sighed and looked back down at her book, feelings weirdly overwhelmed by the brief exchange of words. God everything was so fucked up. A year ago they had talked for hours at a time, and now it was hard to get a few words out; worse, it was all her fault. She considered for a moment trying to keep Rachel talking to her, maybe finding a new word she didn't "understand" in the book, but she knew Rachel was too smart for that to work a second time. She just...she wanted to hear her voice.
Sighing again, she rubbed her temples and rested her head on the desk, giving up for the day.
Santana was pretty sure torture was illegal in schools, so for the life of her she couldn't figure out what excuse they had for William Schuster's spanish class. At the front of the room the curly haired teacher was currently wearing a poncho and butchering the language, while Santana was going over some leftover math homework.
Suddenly a frustrated sigh was let out and she looked over to see Rachel glaring a hole in her notebook. Clearing her throat the Latina nudged the girl and raised her eyebrows in question.
Startled, Rachel looked up at Santana. For the third time that day, completely due to Santana Lopez, she flushed red, and looked down back to her book. "Um… Sorry," she said, assuming the interruption had something to do with her groan.
When she realized that Santana was still eyeing her, Rachel huffed in frustration with herself. "I just… don't understand this part… I can't follow the conversation they're having.."
Frowning slightly Santana slid closer to the girl and looked down at her notebook, seeing the issue right away. "Its your conjugation," she said awkwardly, carefully pulling the girl's pencil out of her hand, hand just brushing up against Rachel's, and erased the words from the chart. "What you meant here was trabajo, meaning I am working, and this is supposed to be trabajé, meaning I have worked," she explained in a low, steady voice. "Schue sucks a- … at explaining this stuff."
Biting her lip, mostly trying to hold back the little laugh that threatened to come out at Santana's self-censorship, Rachel nodded. "He's… not very talented at Spanish, no… Well, I mean, I'm pretty sure he's somewhat fluent in speaking… But he can't teach it at all. And um… he's sort of racist without realizing it, I think…" She surprised herself by saying as much as she did, considering everything that had happened between them. But… God… it was so hard not to talk to Santana… Especially when she aimed that little smirk her way, or winked, or-
Cutting that train of thought off, Rachel cleared her throat. "Thanks, by the way… You'd… you know… think I'd have picked some of this up… From before…"
"Yeah," Santana murmured, staring down at her math homework silently. Awkwardly she fidgeted with her hands, brushing a finger over a fresh bruise she had gotten that morning hitting a locker, and trying to think of something else to say to the singer. Unable to think of anything she sighed in frustration before yawning and leaning over to rest her head against the desk. "Do you need help with anything else?" She asked, opening an eye and looking up at Rachel, trying to not appear overly hopeful.
"What- Oh- Um-" Stuttering a bit, surprised at the offer, Rachel looked down at the worksheet they were doing- or, that she was doing while the others laughed at 's antics. She bit her lower lip, then scooted closer to Santana, making a decision, and praying it wouldn't hurt in the end. "Ac-actually. I'm stuck on most of this… I know for a fact we didn't go over it in class… I take excellent notes."
Santana smiled and perked up in her seat, scooting her own chair over until their knees were almost brushing up against each others. "You've always taken excellent notes," she said, her voice only just lightly teasing. "It's one of the best things about you," and then, awkwardly clearing her throat, she added "now lets conjugate this shit," Rachel's offended utterance of "language" made Santana smile widely. It was just class, but it was something right?
Santana had never been as happy to see a school year end as she had been two weeks ago. The entire freshmen year felt like a gauntlet, and honestly, she was surprised she had come out of it alive. It felt like if she wasn't having to fight to keep her reputation from tanking, she was just fighting for the hell of it; add the fact that she barely recognized herself anymore and living hell didn't seem like an over exaggeration in the slightest.
But it was summer now, and with the exclusion of the time she was "expected" to spend with her "friends" at least once a week, she was free. At the moment the Latina was poking through a bin of posters at the mall, trying to decide what to do next as the rest of her teammates had decided to go to Victoria's Secret and try on stuff.
A familiar flash of brown hair caught her attention and she looked up to see Rachel walking up to an ATM, alone.
Something shifted in her head, an urge, and not letting herself even think for a second, less she talked herself out of it, she instantly headed towards the shorter girl. "Hey Rach," she said, her voice uncharacteristically shy as she stopped a few feet behind the singer.
"Oh MY GOD!" shrieked Rachel in surprise, jumping nearly a foot in the air and away from the taller girl, hand clutching her heart. "Oh- Oh. Santana. H-hi," she squeaked out, adrenaline slowly fading away.
"Sorry, sorry!" Santana said holding her hands up and looking at the brunette with wide eyes. "Jeez I know people say I'm scary but wow," she joked awkwardly, hoping to make Rachel at least smile. This was the first time seeing each other in weeks and scaring the hell out of her was definitely not what she had intended to do when she headed over without a plan.
Giving a somewhat awkward smile, Rachel steadied herself. "It's okay. You know, 'badass' persona and all of that. One of your many talents," she joked back, not as strained as it could have been. They had spent the last three months of school talking to one another during class, specifically for class. But still, it had been… a vast improvement, on that end of things at least.
Rachel still got slushied at least once a day with Mercedes, Kurt still got thrown in the dumpster every morning, and they were the butt of more jokes about 'fags' and 'jew noses' and eating than they could count. Spanish and English had become Rachel's favorite classes; partly because she could speak to Santana, and partly because no one dared throw anything in her hair or make snide comments to her when she was so close to the girl.
"So… to what does Lima Mall owe the honor?" she asked, looking around for Santana's teammates.
"Oh uh...well I was with some of the girls from the team, but they went to Victoria's Secret to try stuff on and...yeah," Santana said glancing down her own body uncomfortably. "What about you? You here with your dads?" Santana asked, hoping Rachel would leave her explanation at that.
Nodding in understanding, trying her best to ignore the sudden onslaught of imagery her mind was supplying of Santana in lingerie, Rachel shook her head. "No, Kurt and Mercedes. But they wanted to go shoe shopping and I opted out. I can't handle them both when it comes to shoes," Rachel replied, laughing quietly and tucking a stray lock of hair behind her hair. "You'd enjoy it, though. Assuming you still go crazy over that sort of thing. Kurt has a radar for shoe sales, I'm sure of it. And Mercedes is all about 'cuttin' a bleep' to get the last pair in her size."
Santana laughed, like really laughed, for the first time in a long time and shook her head. "All about cuttin a bleep sounds just like them," she said smiling and rolling her eyes. "So um...what are your plans now?" Santana asked, rubbing the back of her neck and looking into Rachel's eyes, unwilling to let this moment end.
"I was actually going to attempt to find something vegan to eat. Or at least a salad," Rachel said, shifting a little on her feet, pretending her face and ears didn't feel hot. "You?"
"Actually I was thinking of grabbing a bite to eat, too. I um, I'm free the rest of the day. Do you… I mean," Santana stopped and took a deep breath, steeling her nerves for something that was second nature a year ago. "Do you want to go eat together…? Ee could talk?"
Rachel didn't know why she always felt hot whenever Santana was around her these days, but it was definitely something she needed to talk to Kurt and Mercedes about, because she was pretty sure her face looked like a tomato and that had never happened in the past. Not for no reason.
"S-sure! I mean- yes. Of course. We could- Yes. Food. And talking. That sounds lovely."
She also wasn't sure when her nearly post-college level vocabulary had become the equivalent of Noah trying to speak Spanish… But, there it was, in all of its stuttering glory.
"Oh god, would you believe I still have that damn flower crown? It's all dried up now but it still hanging on my wall. Our cleaning lady tries to throw it away at least once a month," Santana said laughing, holding her near aching stomach with one hand and wiping her eyes with the other.
Grabbing a bite to eat had somehow turned into a few hours of reminiscing about their childhood and the antics they had gotten up to, and Santana was damn happy about it. Leaning back in her chair she took a sip of her drink and smiled fondly at Rachel, waiting for her to recover from her own laughter.
"It was a very nice flower crown!" Rachel exclaimed, trying to sound indignant and failing completely as she laughed. Wiping her eyes, she tucked her hair behind her ear again and looked up at Santana, a bright, sincere smile on her face and a soft look in her eyes. "Besides, you made it look very pretty. You make everything you wear look absolutely stunning as always, Santana. Even when you were, in my daddy's words, 'an over-zealous little imp with too many scuffs and not enough bandages'."
Santana felt her face flush and she looked down at her hands shyly. She got called hot a lot and a few idiots had made the mistake of calling her "fuckable", but she hadn't been called pretty, let alone stunning in forever. "Says the pretty girl," Santana said biting her lip and looking up at Rachel through her eyelashes. Realizing what she had just said, the Latina straightened up in her seat, face flushing even more than before and looked down at the plastic tabletop like it was the most interesting thing the world. "So, what are your plans for summer?"
Too busy trying to hide her own blush to notice Santana's, Rachel cleared her throat. "Um… nothing, really. Dad and Daddy are taking me to New York, per usual, for a long weekend. We'll probably see a few shows, do some shopping. Then I have to get started on next years reading, the usual vocal and dance lessons… I'm thinking of adding an extra day for my vocals, but it will depend on how my volunteering schedule works out. Hopefully I'll have some time to bake, and I'd like to start getting up in the morning every day to use my dad's elliptical. Oh, and of course hanging out with Kurt and Mercedes every other Wednesday."
Santana chuckled at the familiarity of Rachel's idea of "nothing". Holding up a hand and smiling she stopped the girl, suddenly feeling very bold. "Do you think somewhere in all that nothing we could hang out like this again? Maybe tomorrow or something? Papi put in a pool?" She asked, her voice tinged with hope.
"Uh… Just a moment." Rachel opened her phone, scrolling to her schedule. Biting her lip, she glanced up at Santana. "Does tomorrow afternoon work? I have dance in the morning, but I should be completely free until 6pm when I have dinner with my fathers." A pause, and then, cautiously, "Un...less you would like to come over for dinner later? Maybe? I mean, if you don't already have plans of any sort."
"Afternoon sounds great," Santana said smiling. "I like to work out in the mornings anyways, gotta keep in shape and all that jazz," the Latina said, subconsciously flexing her arms as she considered the invitation. It was tempting, in fact screw tempting she really, really wanted to say yes, but a small part of her was wondering if she really had the right to go over to the Berry house after everything that had gone down in the last year. Biting her lip she looked up at Rachel. "As for dinner...we'll see? Sometimes Mami comes home in the evenings before midnight and wants to actually do 'family stuff'. But if not...yeah...if you're okay with it I'd like to."
"Of course! We'd be happy to host you again. I'll make sure to tell Dad so that he makes real meat for you. I mean, he usually does anyway, but he'll just make an extra portion." Rachel was excited now, though trying to hold herself back. "We usually watch classic black and white comedies after, though you probably remember that. So if you'd like you could sleep over and leave in the morning? Or Daddy could drop you off when he takes me to dance. Or you could go home the same night. I mean, whatever you want," the smaller girl rambled off.
Rachel's rambling was infectious and Santana succumbed to it with an almost relieved sigh. She knew that there was obviously A LOT of shit they needed to work through, but Rachel obviously didn't hate her, which was a lot more than Santana expected honestly. Leaning forwards she put her hand on Rachel's and squeezed gently, "I'm down for playing it by ear if you are?" She said, her words slow and pointed. She meant more than plans for tomorrow and she hoped Rachel understood that.
A surge of heat coursed through her at Santana's touch, and Rachel immediately looked down at their hands, face hot as she squeezed the Latina's hand in return, smiling shyly. "Yes. That sounds like a good plan."
This… This had maybe been a terrible idea…
Rachel stood in front of the glass door leading out to the Lopez backyard and pool. She had been standing there for a good fives minutes, staring, mouth slightly agape and her clothing (little more than a skirt, blouse, and her one piece swimsuit under it) uncomfortable and suffocating suddenly. Her face was completely flushed, down to her chest, and there was an even more uncomfortable amount of heat in the pit of her stomach.
Outside, having just lifted herself up out of the pool, was Santana, in nothing but a tiny bikini that left nothing to the imagination and accented every curve. All of them…
The soccer player's muscle rippled and glistened in the sunlight, water dripping down each toned line, and- oh God, those abs. And those breasts. And-
Swallowing thickly, hand shaking as she finally managed to opened the sliding glass, Rachel stepped outside as Santana was toweling off, desperately trying to keep her eyes on her friend's face and not any lower. But it was incredibly hard, and no matter where else on Santana she tried to look, she was met with nothing but firm muscles, developing curves, and- She's gotten bigger since childhood. Or- God… Rachel stop. You shouldn't even be noticing that sort of thing! But… Just- It's RIGHT there…
She was pretty sure she squeaked when Santana lifted a leg onto a nearby chair to dry her thigh off better, and had absolutely no idea how that bikini bottom was possibly holding Santana's package in as well as it was.
"H-hello, Santana," Rachel eventually spoke up, her voice squeaking. She coughed a bit, doing her best to appear casual. "It's lovely out today. D-definitely perfect swimsuit w-weather."
Santana stared blankly back at Rachel for a moment, confused by the girls flustered appearance, before snapping out of it and hurriedly covering herself up with the towel. "Hey Rachel," she said, voice strained as she tucked in the towel and shifted awkwardly in place. "I um...sorry I forgot how punctual you are. I'm gonna- just one moment," the Latina said before running over to a deck chair and bending over to grab her discarded swim trunks. Once they were slipped on and she didn't feel like her junk was being waved in Rachel's face she took a deep breath and turned, walking back to the shorter girl. "So how was dance?" When the girl didn't answer Santana waved a hand in her face. "Rach?"
Having zoned on when Santana had bent over to slip on her trunks, Rachel blinked owlishly, then blushed harder than ever. "S-sorry. You didn't- This is your own home, Santana. You don't need to, you know, h-hide yourself." Mentally shaking herself off, trying to get her composure back, Rachel hurried on. "What I mean is that, I already- I mean, I've seen you in less. G-granted, you weren't n-nearly as filled out, or matured, or as ridiculously in shape, but- Just- Your penis is nice in a bikini- I mean you look nice in a bikini- I mean- Um- I- Dance was good." And with that Rachel shut her mouth tight, and mentally slapped herself.
Santana couldn't help herself. She puffed up just a little bit pridefully with every word Rachel stuttered out. Was she mortified? Yeah, sure. But on the flip side Rachel had just basically said her body was banging and her package was studly. Rubbing the back of her neck Santana reached out and put a hand on Rachel's shoulder. "Thanks Rach," she said winking at the girl. "But how bout we act like this did not just happen and get to swimming? Gotta work up an appetite for whatever Papa Berry is cooking for dinner right?" She asked, smiling widely at the girl and gently, maybe a little awkwardly, putting a hand on her back and leading her to the pool.
Taking the chance get her head back on straight, Rachel nodded, sitting at the edge of the water and watching as Santana slipped back in, though remained at the shallow end as well, leaning against the edge. Rachel let out a breath, smiling through her awkwardness.
"He's making burgers and grilled veggies. Vegan patties for me and Daddy, meat for the two of you."
She swung her legs back and forth in the water, trying to not notice the ever prominent cleavage that Santana was getting known for. "I assume that means you'll be staying over?"
And… maybe Rachel should have been thinking that offer through a little better…
"I'm down if you are," Santana said flashing a wide smile up at the girl and then smirking. "So you gonna get in or-" she teased carefully putting her hands on Rachel's hips and tugging slightly, playful intent obvious. She felt...light...like for right now all of last year didn't happen, and she decided then to hold on to that feeling and see where it went.
Had Santana's hands always felt this hot? Surely yes? Of course.
"Don't you d-daAARE-!" Then she was in the water, halfway across the pool.
Santana definitely had not always been that strong.
Spluttering as she came up to the surface, Rachel pouted, looking much like a drowned kitten, especially with clothes still on. "That- That was mean!" she exclaimed.
Santana laughed and waded over to the girl in a few long strides. "Haven't you heard Rach? I'm not nice," Santana chuckled, gently pushing the girls wet hair out of her face and smiling down at her.
Looking up at Santana, Rachel continued to pout. "Yes you are," she said, the words coming out easily and as naturally as ever. "Throwing me in the water with clothes on, though, is rude. Now I'm all wet."
Santana's mind instantly went into the gutter, but she managed to keep her face straight, and her hormones under control, by biting her lip. Concentrating on the first thing Rachel had said and none of the words that had followed, especially "wet", Santana smiled and cocked her head to the side. She was...surprised? Maybe a little bit worried? Rachel was here, and she was calling her nice when her behavior recently had been anything but. However, it was Rachel after all, Santana remembered, and Rachel was, and always had been exceptional.
Santana pushed back all the other emotions she was feeling and decided to settle on happiness. So carefully, keeping her eyes on Rachel's she leaned in and wrapped her arms around the girl. "Thanks, Rachel," she murmured, as the girl relaxed in her arms. "And sorry for throwing you in the pool. I swear on my belt, next time I'll ask before getting you all wet," and with that she backed up, winked roguishly at the girl, and dove towards the deep end laughing.
Pushing away all the non-friendly feelings her body was trying to make known, Rachel stripped her clothes off, revealing her tight, but modest one-piece. She hadn't yet filled out much, not anything like Santana had, but she was reasonably happy with her body. At least her hips and her legs, which she knew were fantastic.
Swimming towards Santana, Rachel waited until the girl came up for air, then clung onto her back, legs around her waist and arms around her neck. "There. I win," she said simply, giggling happily.
Santana laughed, shaking her head and letting her hands rest on the outsides of Rachel's thighs. Thighs that had become extremely...wow...in the last year apparently. Thankful for the cold water, Santana glanced over her shoulder at the singer and nodded. "You always do," she chuckled before beginning to easily swim through the water, her strong legs propelling them aimlessly through the water.
The two talked for a long while, and they laughed, and then they talked some more. Santana wasn't exactly sure what she had done to deserve Rachel, but she decided that night when they were laying down watching a movie in the singer's bed, that she wasn't going to fuck this up ever again. No matter what.
At seven o'clock on the Sunday before their first day of school, the Diva Triad found themselves in Rachel's room, in their pjs, talking about the upcoming trials and tribulations bound to occur. They had already packed the slushy kit, their backpacks, and gone over their plan of action to destroy the 'choir' that did absolutely nothing besides a few tiny shows to senior homes and on Church holidays. Once that was done, they'd focus on creating a real singing club… Somehow.
Now though, only two hours before it was time to sleep, Rachel was fiddling with her hands and biting her lip nervously. Kurt caught on right away, and raised his brow at her. "Okay, what's wrong? Every time we've breaked from official business you've gotten… Anxious…"
Mercedes nodded, scooting closer to Rachel. "What's up, Rach? ...Wait. It's about Santana, isn't it? Spill."
Huffing, Rachel conceded. "...Yes… It's about Santana… Just… We've been doing so well this summer. Three perfect months, like freshman year never happened… But…"
"You're worried she'll, shall we say, revert to her old ways," offered Kurt.
The brunette nodded, looking guilty about it. "More or less, yes… I mean, don't get me wrong, there are a few things I worry about, what with her 'badass' reputation she loves so much. But I honestly feel that she's comfortable and happy with that. It's… the violence that I dislike. And I'm so worried, because I know you remember her when she was younger, too. She always had a short fuse, but it was never like this."
The two nodded, recalling quite well that, as short-tempered as Santana had always been, it had never quite been as… brutal…
Kurt took Rachel's hand, Mercedes the other one, and spoke. "Have some faith. We've all hung out with her this summer, and I must say, she's definitely relaxed. Especially when with you. So just… Let's see what happens tomorrow."
With a heavy sigh, Rachel agreed. Thirty minutes later they turned the lights off, and before long, the three divas were fast asleep.
Santana was on a mission. Determinately she made her way through the crowded hallways of McKinley, smirking internally as people jumped out of her way with near comical fright. Good, she thought to herself as she hung a left and headed to the Sophomore lockers, good that her reputation preceded her enough that people were obviously still afraid of her. It would make the rest of the day and school year go by A LOT easier.
The summer vacation had been amazing, more than Santana could have hoped for, and more than she honestly thought she deserved. Rachel, and by extension their other friends, had welcomed Santana back into their lives without a blink it felt like. The singer and her had spent the majority of the summer hanging out, at first keeping to safe subjects like their shared childhood, and then moving on to more personal things. She didn't want to sound lame and over-dramatic, but Rachel, without realizing it, had kind of saved her in a way. She definitely felt like she had been drug out of some self imposed hell, and she had no intention of going back. And that was starting today.
A group of Cheerios moved out of her way and Santana smiled widely at the sight of Rachel organizing her new locker with an intense determination. Chuckling and shaking her head, the Latina blew past a group of hockey players and slid up next to the short girl. "Did the locker offend you? Do I need to beat it up?" She teased, smirking when Rachel jumped a little and looked up at her.
With a little squeak Rachel turned to see Santana, then immediately rolled her eyes, going right back to what she had been doing. "Santana, every time you punched a locker last year your knuckles were bruised and Brittany would find a way to tell me that you were whining about it. Mind you, for the longest time I didn't know who the number was and assumed it was a strange joke, but now that I finally have her in my phone, all I can say is that the locker would win. Also, you aren't allowed to abuse any more school property. It's rude."
Satisfied with her handiwork, Rachel smiled, grabbing her books, closing her locker, and leaning against it. The way that Santana had shifted herself was very much like how Rachel saw the guys leaned up against the locker of a girl they liked, and it was something that Kurt and Mercedes, walking down the hall to meet their friends, definitely noted as well.
"Hello Rachel, Satan," greeted Kurt with a small smirk and a nod. The three performers did their usual handshake, and moments later Brittany was skipping up to them as well.
"Porcelain, Cedes," Santana said, nodding in turn to the divas, and then when she was pulled into a bear hug, a wheezed, "Britt!"
"Oh my god Sanny you're wearing the bracelet," the blonde cheerio said, pulling on Santana's arm and lifting it up to inspect the very bright rainbow wristband Santana had gotten at the mall a few days ago.
"That I am," Santana said shrugging, but smiling proudly none the less.
With a small, proud smile, face otherwise controlled, Kurt clapped his hands delicately. "Brava, . Joining the small, McKinley High rainbow brigade of… one, currently? Now two?"
Rachel, for her part, just smiled affectionately, and Mercedes was eying her, feeling as though she should be more shocked than she actually was.
"Something like that," Santana chuckled rolling her eyes, "new year, new me and all that good shit."
"Language, Santana," interjected Rachel, slapping the girl's firm abs with a now disproving pout.
"Ouch, I'm wounded," Santana said, reaching down and holding Rachel's hand against her abs. "You have killed me. Happy?"
Turning to Kurt, Rachel gave him an overly enthusiastic smile. "Good news, friends! Our diva trio has officially become a quad. I introduce to you the newest diva, Santana Maria Lopez," spoke Rachel, waving her hand in Santana's direction as a means to 'show her off' to Kurt and Mercedes, who were snickering unabashedly.
Santana narrowed her eyes playfully at the shorter girl, considering picking her up and holding her off the ground until she took it back, when she felt a looming presence behind her and turned to find a member of the hockey team standing in front of her. The Latina dug into her memory and internally groaned when she realized he was one of the boys she had "dated" last year.
"What do you want?" She asked, her body tensing in anticipation. She knew that this moment was bound to occur eventually but she didn't think it would go down before the first bell even rang. She also realized with startling clarity that every "important" member of the school hierarchy was somehow crammed into the hallway and watching the exchange closely.
The jock laughed and cocked his head to the side. "Come on, Baby, do you really gotta ask," he joked, grabbing his crotch.
Rachel was standing straight and between Santana the young man instantly, eyes narrowed and with the most judgmental eyebrow raise ever. She shoved at the boy's chest, hard, taking him off guard and making him stumble back a couple of steps. "Excuse you," she said, stepping right up to him before he could move close to the group, and Santana, again. "While you appear to be a fully functioning human being, your mannerisms imply that you are, in fact, the escaped monkey from the Columbus Zoo. I suggest you make your escape from here quickly, before animal control arrives to put you back where you belong. Unfortunately, there are no bananas present, and wild monkeys with no self control do not belong in an establishment of learning."
Santana saw the idiot's intent before anyone else, familiar with the look of rage on his face. "Why you little fa-" was all he got out before Santana had stepped around her best friend and was pushing the boy back.
"Finish that sentence and I'll use your balls for goal practice," she snarled, getting up in his face, her entire body tensed from the exertion it was taking to not tear his head off. The hallway around them had become completely silent, and Santana saw Quinn Fabray, wearing a new Head Cheerio's letterman, sliding up next to them.
"Nice bracelet," the blonde girl said, positioning herself between the two, and waving off the hockey player without a glance. "I'm guessing this means you've finally decided to become a man instead of just looking like one. Certainly found the right company," Quinn said, nodding back at Rachel, her voice honey sweet.
Santana's fist curled and she stepped forwards, pushing Quinn back with her chest. "Oh please keep going, I've been looking for a reason to knock you on your dumb ass since last year," she said, glaring down at the girl.
"Then bring it on dyke, and get ready to kiss your rep goodbye...if you haven't already," Quinn snapped back as a group of Cheerios came up from behind her.
Santana almost hit her. Almost. But she held back when she felt Rachel move next to her.
"Quinn, isn't that Coach Sylvester right there?"
Immediately the girl snapped her head to the side, and indeed, Sue Sylvester was just down the hall, watching the proceedings like a hawk, eyes narrowed and lips thin.
"Did you know that fighting is punishable by suspension? And removal of all school sports?" continued Rachel. Though she directed her words at Quinn, it was obvious that she was speaking to Santana as well. "I'm sure your Coach wouldn't be pleased about having to rescue her brand new, youngest ever, Head Cheerio on the very first day of classes. In fact, I'd wager to assume that it sets you up as… hm… too volatile? Not worth the risk, perhaps?"
The taller blonde looked ready to react, but then, just as quickly, her face morphed back to one of cold indifference, and she eyed Rachel up and down. "Well played, Jewnose. I just hope your rabid guard dog doesn't go sniffing around too far away from you… You never know when wild, uncontrolled monkeys will get into the school again…" With that and a wave of her hand, Quinn spun on her heel, walking down the hall to her first class just as the bell rang, effectively getting in the last word. Everyone parted for her and the Cheerios, slowly going to their own classes, and Sue slipped back into her office without a word.
With a huff, but otherwise satisfied, Rachel turned back to Santana and the others, now joined by Mike, Tina, Noah, and Artie, who were openly staring at her in shock.
"Well, now that I've happily painted a target on my back, shall we get to class? Santana, walk me, please? We have Algebra II together, I believe," the smallest of the group said simply, a smile back on her face, as though she hadn't just gone toe to toe with the, arguably, most powerful female student in the school now.
Santana nodded, not even bothering to hide her amusement over what had just gone down. "This just in, Rachel Berry is a bamf," she said, winking at the group before taking the singer's books away from her and putting her free arm, gently, around the girl's shoulders.
"Really though, Rach, that was pretty damn awesome," Santana said as they started walking to class. "But we both know sh-crap is gonna hit the roof. I should have said this sooner but I'm not bagging out this year, no matter what happens. You know that, right?" the Latina asked, her voice low and intimate in spite of their surroundings.
Blushing lightly, looking down at her feet with a shy smile, Rachel nodded. "I know that, yes," was her simple reply. "And, the same goes for me. You aren't the only one who screwed up last year, Santana. It was the both of us. So… This year will be different."
And, in her head, as they sat down next to one another and began organizing their things, Rachel glanced at her friend again. The bright smile she got, followed by a cocky wink, made her heart skip a beat, and she knew for that that this year things definitely were going to be much, much different.
At least, if she had her way.