A/N: I know I promised to finish Quinntana Week before I updated this, but I realized that all of my Day 7 ideas would have resulted in new multichapter fics, and I can't do that to you guys XD. I'll probably start it after I finish one of my other stories (or this one), but just know that I'm never gonna stop writing for you all!
This chapter is really long and it's fluffy and there's a small spark between our two favorite HBICs in this here chapter(: I hope you like it, and I love you guys and your sweet reviews.
Update: Thanks to Fancypants for pointing out my mistake.
To the guest: I missed you guys too! Really I can't wait to start writing again
And to : Yaaaaaas, little snippets of Santana's past will deffo come into play, and since you all mostly got Quinn's past, there won't be as much but things will blow up, I promise (;
Disclaimer: Me no own Glee.
Chapter Six: Knowing You
BEEP BEEP BEEP
Santana's hand shoots out towards the offending object and then curses loudly as she hits her hand on a table she wasn't expecting to be there. Her eyes slowly open and she blinks a couple of times before she gets a good look around. She had forgotten that she passed out on the couch at the Foresters' place. "Ugh…" Santana sniffs to clear her sinuses and rubs her face a little bit to wake up.
Finally, her eyes land on the offending object. Her alarm has gone off for her morning routine. Once again, Santana groans and then flops back onto the couch in denial that it's really 6:30am and that she has to get up.
All of the sudden, the smell of coffee hits her senses and she is awake. Her head peaks over the couch and in the kitchen, she sees Amber pouring three mugs of coffee. She practically jumps over the couch, or at least tries, but her foot gets caught on the back and she falls to her death. At least, she felt like it, when really it was maybe a four foot fall, onto carpet. "Son of a bitch," she says, rubbing her head as she walks over to take her mug from the counter.
Amber knows exactly how she likes her coffee, and she has her own mug here. It's pretty much like a second house, really. Amber fights the urge to chuckle at Santana's annoyed facial expression, and instead she says, "Language, honey."
The Latina rolls her eyes. "Shut up."
Amber chuckles and elbows Santana in the shoulder. "Asshole."
"Hypocrite."
Amber just hums and sips her coffee. "So how was Charlie last night?"
"Oh, you wouldn't believe what movie he wanted to watch last night," Santana begins. "He holds up this horror movie and I had to stop myself from losing it."
Amber snaps her fingers in realization. "Oh, was it 'At The Devil's Door'?"
"Yeah! That's the one!" Santana laughs along with Amber and tells her about her night until her phone interrupts their conversation.
The tired cheerleader walks back to her phone and checks it. 6:46am. And, hey, there's a new message.
Quinn: 'I'm sorry about last night…'
Santana furrows her brows at her phone, trying to figure out what Quinn has to be sorry for.
"You okay?"
Santana looks up to see Amber looking at her curiously. "Oh, um, just a friend. Y'know. Girl problems. Yeah." She looks back down at her phone to type out a response.
Santana: 'You have nothing to be sorry about, Q.'
Back in the kitchen, Amber keeps looking on, trying to deduce what's up with her "daughter" based on her body language. Santana was chewing her lip and fiddling with her phone. She's anxious. She runs a hand through her (somehow perfect after waking up) hair. She's irritated. She meets the gaze of Amber. She's catching on.
"Are you psycho analyzing me?" Santana asks pointedly.
Amber looks down at her mug. "Sorry."
She hears a chuckle from Santana. "Don't worry about it. Old habits die hard, eh, doc?"
"Once a psychologist, always a psychologist," Amber replies jokingly.
Santana's phone chimes once again, and she checks it instantaneously.
Quinn: 'We're outside your house.'
The cheerleader sighs. Avoidance. Typical Quinn Fabray fashion. "Hey, Ambs?" The brunette looks up in response to her name. "Can I bring two friends in to get ready?"
Santana keeps a stash of clothes and a spare set of makeup over at this house because she babysits a lot on school nights and ends up just getting ready here.
"Sure, I don't mind. Do they want coffee, or…?" Amber reaches for a couple more mugs.
Santana is about to answer when she realizes that she's not entirely sure. As much as she knows about the Fabrays, she doesn't really know Quinn. So instead, she just shrugs and heads for the front door.
When she opens it, she sees Quinn and Frannie waiting in her driveway. She uses her thumb and first finger to whistle, quite loudly, to get their attention. As soon as the two sisters look in her direction, she waves them over.
"What are you doing here?" Frannie asks when she is within hearing distance.
The Latina shrugs in response. "This is my other house." She leads the way in, leaving the door open for her friends.
"Your 'other house'?" Frannie echoes as she follows Santana towards the kitchen.
"Actually, it's my house." Frannie and Quinn both jump at the new voice. Amber turns around with two mugs of coffee in her hand. "I didn't know if you guys wanted coffee or not, but here you go."
The two girls take their respective mugs and each take a sip, sinking into a chair as the warm liquid trickles down their throat and into their bellies. "Oh dear God, that is delicious," Frannie half moans.
Meanwhile, Santana is staring intently at Quinn; watching her every move, yet Quinn just sits silently, avoiding all eye contact with Santana and sips her coffee periodically.
"I know we're early, but…" Frannie glances at Amber, "Anyway, San, can I talk to you for a minute?"
Santana nods and moves to follow Frannie, taking her coffee mug with her. She takes one last glance at Quinn before moving to take the lead. The younger girl leads Frannie down the hall to what looks like a study. "What's up?" Santana starts, taking another sip of coffee.
For the first time, Santana sees the blonde actually shuffle on her feet and fidget with her hands. She's nervous. For once, Frannie is vulnerable. "You haven't…told anyone… Have you?"
The other girl is taken aback by the question, but she quickly regains her cool. She's way too tired to actually talk about this. Even though Frannie is extending an…olive branch? "So, what, are we actually acknowledging it now?"
Hurt flashes through the blonde's eyes and Santana feels regret coursing through her veins. The hurt is replaced quickly by anger. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
Santana pinches the bridge of her nose in frustration. "No, look, I didn't mean it that way. I just have this raging headache and I was up late last night doing the homework, and now Quinn isn't even looking at me."
Frannie clears her throat. "She's…she'll talk to you. I just need to know if you've…told anyone."
It still isn't said. The actual words, at least. Saying them makes it real. Frannie isn't ready for it, and Santana knows that.
So she doesn't push.
A sigh escapes Santana's lips. "No, I haven't told anyone." Santana leans against the closed door. "Shouldn't I, though? Shouldn't you, or even Quinn?"
"No!" Frannie hisses. "No, it wouldn't be good. Not with Beth. Not right now."
Another sigh. "Yeah, I understand. I'm just…really worried. What if…" Santana doesn't finish the thought. "I care about you guys, okay?"
Frannie nods, and smiles softly before pulling Santana into a hug. "Thanks, San."
"Yeah, of course." Santana opens the door to the hall. "I'm always on both you and Quinn's side." On the other side of the door, slightly down the hall is Quinn. She looks so small as she looks into her coffee mug, only looking up when Frannie touches her shoulder affectionately as she passes. Quinn uses her foot to push off the wall and walk towards Santana. "I suppose you want to chat?" Quinn doesn't say anything, instead she just walks passed Santana and into the study. "Or…not?" The blonde just stands there. A frighteningly blank expression on her face. Santana supposes she's thinking, or maybe waiting for Santana to speak. "I didn't tell anyone, if that's what you're worried about."
Finally, Quinn shows some emotion. She looks slightly relieved, but shakes her head. "I'm sorry." Santana goes to speak, but Quinn interrupts her. "You shouldn't have had to see that. I mean, what happened yesterday." She shuffles her feet before continuing. "I'm sorry you had to change me, and that you had to do my homework. I…" Quinn sniffles, holding back tears. "I'm so fucking pathetic." The blonde grits her teeth, and looks up to the ceiling in an effort to keep the tears from falling. "I'm weak, and I'm sorry."
"Fuck, Quinn…" Santana takes the few steps it takes to envelop Quinn in a hug. "It's not your fault. None of it is your fault." She finally breaks down in Santana's arms, clinging to her as if her life depended on it. The raven haired girl just holds her. It's all she can do, anyway. It isn't long before Quinn's cries subside until she is just sniffling. Santana pulls back just enough to look Quinn in the eyes. "You are not pathetic. You are not weak." Santana clenches her jaw at the pure anger she feels towards Russell Fabray. "God, you are so strong for going home every day. For taking care of your baby sister. I didn't change you, or do our homework because I had to. I did it because I wanted to. I wanted to make things easier for you, Quinn. I think you're my best friend."
Quinn's tears start to subside as she listens to Santana's words. When the blonde finally pulls away, she can see Santana's own tears threaten to spill over onto her cheeks. In fact, one does happen to break through and Quinn uses the pad of her thumb to sweep the tear away. Something flashes between the two. Something almost palpable, but it is unidentifiable. Quickly, the eye contact is broken and the cheerleader opens the door, ushering for Quinn to leave first.
Upon their arrival to the kitchen, they see that Brad is downstairs with his arm around Amber. Frannie has a smile on her face as she watches the couple, yet a small frown threatens to take over. She wonders why her own parents couldn't be this way. Why they couldn't be affectionate, or even functional. Santana and Quinn's entrance make Brad and Amber look up, in turn grabbing Frannie's attention.
"How nice of you two to join us," Amber sasses to the two freshmen.
Santana rolls her eyes and separates from Quinn. "So glad to be here." The girl checks her phone for the time. "However, we must be getting along. So much to do, so little time." She winks at her almost parents and nods her head towards the stairs for Frannie and Quinn to start up the stairs. "Last room on the right," she yells up after them before grabbing the two backpacks and following them
The three girls enter the room and Quinn automatically sits on the desk chair so Santana can do her makeup. Santana drops both backpacks down on the bed as Quinn hands her the makeup bag.
"All right," the Latina says as she sits down. "Let's get down to business."
Quinn hums 'to defeat the Huns' aloud, and the other girl just looks at her before smiling and shaking her head.
"Okay, Blondie, hold still while I get yesterday's makeup off."
The three girls get out of the car at the student parking lot, and Santana and Quinn are immediately joined by Brittany. The three Cheerios go off towards the main doors while Frannie moves to go around towards the back where her first class is.
The cheerleaders all but bust through the door, all eyes are on them as they strut down the halls. Each of them make a stop at their lockers before the bell rings and first period is signaled. The three girls split up towards their respective classes, save for Santana. She heads towards the counselor's office.
"Hi, is Ms. Woods in?" Santana asks sweetly to the secretary.
The secretary seems like one of those people who would yell at kids to get the hell off of her lawn, but she's probably one of the sweetest little old ladies around. Santana has made it a habit to befriend the administration. It's easier to fix everything to make school what she wants it to be. It also doesn't hurt that Ms. Woods is her old counselor from middle school that transferred to McKinley.
"Let me check for you, dear." The old woman gets up and ambles around the corner to check the various counselor offices. No longer than thirty seconds pass before she comes back to let Santana know that Ms. Woods is there and that Santana can go back and see her.
The cheerleader knocks on Woods' door before letting herself in. "Hey, Emma!"
"Santana!" Ms. Woods gets up to give her favorite student a hug. "How're you liking high school so far?"
"It's been great. I've made some friends, and," Santana twirls in her Cheerios outfit, "I made the squad."
Emma looks at Santana skeptically. "Better friends than you made in middle school, I hope?"
Shame fills the Latina as she looks down at her feet. "Yeah, much better," she mumbles, not wanting to think about her past longer than five seconds. "Anyway," she brightens up slightly. "I was wondering if we could make some schedule changes."
"Oh? And why is that?"
"One of my friends is having some trouble and I want to help her. I think it would be good for me to be around her too, considering the type of people I used to be around, she's a good change for me." Santana shuffles her feet due to her nerves. Emma Woods is one of the only people that can tell when Santana is lying, so the girl tries her best to be honest with her counselor. She finds that she gets more when she's honest with her.
"All right, what's the new schedule? Still all AP classes, I hope?"
Santana's face breaks into a giant smile as she pulls a piece of paper from her pocket. "See, that's the best part. We are in all the same classes, just different times. Except one. AP Medieval History." Santana breaks into a story about how she was helping Quinn with her Medieval History homework, and she found she was intrigued by all of the different things that they will be learning about.
Soon, the schedule has been changed and Santana leaves the office with a note for each class saying that her schedule has been changed and that she is now in the new classes. She can't wait to see the look on Quinn's face when she walks into her class.
She easily finds the room number and opens the door, causing the Spanish teacher, Mr. Schuester or something, to stop in the middle of his lecture and look up. "Santana, you're in my other AP Spanish."
Quinn eyes are glued to her friend, wondering what the hell is going on. "Actually, Mr. S, I got a schedule change." Santana's eyes flick to Quinn's before she hands Shuester the paper from the counselor that shows her new schedule.
"All right, go ahead and find a seat," Shuester says before resuming his horrible lecture.
The student in the seat next to Quinn takes one look at Santana and flees, literally flees from his seat, taking his stuff with him as Santana unloads her backpack, ready to not listen to the lecture, as she already knows perfect Spanish. Hello, Puerto Rican here.
A piece of paper with some loopy handwriting finds its way onto Santana's desk. She leans forward to read it. What are you doing in here? The cheerleader smirks and passes Quinn her new schedule.
The blonde looks it over and her eyes widen as a smile appears on her face as she finishes the list. "All of them?" she whispers to Santana.
"Yep. I hope that's okay." Santana looks a little nervous for the first time since she changed her schedule.
Quinn nods almost frantically. "Are you insane? It's awesome!"
The last exclamation gets Mr. Shuester's attention. "Girls? Is there something you would like to share with the class?"
Santana looks at Quinn and analyzes her desk. No notes have been written, and Quinn seems to not be worried about the lectures at all. Knowing how the blonde needs to have perfect grades, Santana comes to the conclusion that Quinn already knows Spanish.
Santana shrugs and looks from the teacher to Quinn. "¿Hay allí algo que quiera compartir, Quinn?" (Is there anything you want to share, Quinn?)
Quinn smirks at Santana's plan, and is quick to respond. "No, Santana. Nuestro negocio es privado." (Our business is private.)
Santana arches a brow at Quinn's perfect Spanish dictation, and returns her glare to the teacher. "Do you need me to translate that for you?"
Shuester is flabbergasted at the girl's Spanish skills. To be honest, he didn't understand a word they said. "Uh, no. It's obvious you girls are paying attention." He turns to the board and resumes his god awful lecture.
Snickers resonate around the room as the two girls laugh about what they just pulled. Quinn sobers up quickly, though. "How'd you do this?"
"Don't question it," Santana responds with the amount of sass that is expected of her. The blonde just rolls her eyes and accepts Santana's answer as it is.
The week went on with Santana and Quinn enjoying their classes, and Quinn really enjoying school for the first time in her life since kindergarten. Every morning Santana would apply the makeup, and gradually the bruise would disappear in its own. To be honest, the blonde didn't think her father even noticed she had a bruise where he hit her because Santana was so talented with the makeup.
Saturday finally came, and Santana woke up feeling excited to finally meet this Liz person. Again, she had stayed the night at the Foresters' house like she has been for the past couple of days. She's dreading going home to an empty house yet again, and being with the family of three helps her deal with the urges to hurt herself late at night. The girl knows it's bad, but the buzz she gets from it is addicting, and every time feels like 'the last time' for her.
Sighing, she gets up out of 'her' bed in the guest room, and heads downstairs to prepare a cup of coffee only to find that Amber has beaten her to the punch.
"Hey, you," the older woman says with a slight smile as she lifts the cup to her lips.
Santana grunts and waves lazily in her direction, her eyes focused only on that magical coffee pot and mug with her name on it.
After she's had enough of her wake-up juice, she slumps against the counter, staring at her mug. When she thinks about the plans she has, she finds that she's nervous to meet her friend's mother figure, silently hoping that this mother figure is better than Quinn's real mother.
"You are thinking very loudly, and it's distracting." Santana looks up to see Amber with a teasing smile on her face. "What's going on?"
The younger girl sighs. "I'm meeting someone who's…really important to Quinn, and I'm kind of nervous to be honest."
"Oh?" Amber sets down her coffee mug to give Santana her full attention.
"Yeah, I mean, I don't want to make a bad impression, and I didn't even sleep well last night because of it." She runs a nervous hand through her hair before taking another sip of her coffee.
Amber seems nervous to broach the topic, but she proceeds anyway. "Is it because of…before?"
Santana had her head resting on the table, but it snaps up when she hears Amber ask her about her past. "That's not… It's not something… Can we not?"
"Santana, I just want to help."
There's a thud when Santana slams her coffee mug on the counter. "I'm not one of your patients, and I don't need your help. Get off my back."
Amber seems startled as her "daughter" stomps away and a feeling of helplessness washes over her like a tidal wave.
Of course the older woman knows about Santana's past and the people she used to hang out with. The fact that should would associate herself with certain people gave her a reputation where no parent would allow their child around the Latina. After Santana moved to a new district over summer, it's like she has a clean slate. Sure, it's a longer commute to school, but to Santana, it's worth it, and she likes her life. More or less.
Sighing, Amber sets her mug down by the sink and thinks for a moment about following the cheerleader up the stairs. She places one foot on the bottom step and thinks better of it. Usually, it's best to just let Santana cool off. Amber thinks back to the times that she's run off out of anger, and knows from experience that Santana will come back at some point, looking refreshed and appeased. Instead, she makes her way towards the couch and mentally plans out her day, and prepares the dinner she will be making for Brad when he comes home from work.
Meanwhile in the guest room, Santana locks the door behind her for some much needed privacy and throws herself onto the bed. It bounces slightly from her weight as she holds her head in her hands in frustration. She grunts as she stands up and angrily looks through her closet for something to wear. Getting even more frustrated at the lack of long sleeved shirts she has in this closet, she throws open the door to her room and stomps down stairs, across the street and up her own stairs. No need for locking this door, she thinks, since no one is ever fucking home.
Santana pulls out one of the long sleeved, skin-tight dresses she has, and then tosses it on her bed, thinking that she should look less sexy and more presentable. Next, she pulls out a loose long sleeved blouse, and shorts. No, she thinks after a minute of scrutinizing her outfit, pants will do.
After that lengthy deliberation, she brings her chosen outfit into the bathroom and turns the knob for the shower before pulling her shirt over her head and then she catches reflection in the mirror, just like every other time she showers. The amount of disgust and self-loathing she feels when she examines the scars and cuts – old and new – is immeasurable. She scoffs and rummages through the drawer next to the sink and pulls out the best friend she's ever had, then steps into the scalding water.
"Why are you fidgeting?" Quinn asks from beside Santana as she stares at the other girl's hands. "Is the great Santana Lopez nervous?"
Santana immediately stops twiddling her thumbs and glares at her friend. "I am not nervous."
"Are too."
"Am not!"
"Are too!"
"Girls, girls!" Frannie grabs their attention from the driver's seat. "You're both pretty, now shut up." Both cheerleaders chuckle and roll their eyes.
It isn't much longer before the car comes to a standstill outside of a small café that reads 'Breadstix' over the door. The nerves are eating Santana from the inside out as she opens the car door, but she swallows the lump in her throat and continues moving. When Frannie is out of the car, she takes a minute to survey the people sitting outside until she taps Quinn on the shoulder and points to a woman sitting at one of the tables under the overhang of the café. Quinn immediately takes off towards the woman, and she gets up out of her seat just in time to catch the blonde when she jumps to hug her. Fran comes right after her sister and they share a group hug as Santana watches on; feeling intrusive and awkward.
Just like school, Santana thinks before steeling herself and walking up to the group. With a smirk in place, she introduces herself to Liz. "Santana Lopez."
The nurse is taken aback by the girl's tone, but quickly recovers. "Elizabeth Armstrong," she shoots back at the Latina. The two shake hands and take their seats at the table, both eying each other suspiciously.
The sisters look at each other with concern written all over their faces. When they take their seats, Quinn sits next to Liz and Fran takes her place next to Santana. Although Santana feels slightly hurt that Quinn doesn't sit next to her, she doesn't let it show. Instead, she continues watching Liz.
"How are you guys doing tonight?" a man asks as he walks up the table. Santana looks at the guy and notices he looks almost elven. Legolas, she thinks.
"I'd be better if I was getting my breadsticks on, Legolas," Santana snarks without even glancing at the waiter.
Quinn looks at her in complete and utter shock, then to the male waiter who looks taken aback. Frannie is looking down towards her lap in shame while shaking her head slightly, and Liz is glaring daggers at the young cheerleader.
As the waiter scampers away, Quinn rises from the table, and grabs Santana's arm. "Can I speak with you for a minute?" Not waiting for an answer, the blonde drags her friend away from the table and into a small corner away from any customers. "What are you doing?"
"Nothing," Santana almost snarls back at Quinn.
The blonde looks hurt and just stares at Santana as if she doesn't even recognize her. "Who are you right now, Santana?" After hearing this, Santana looks down at her feet. "This isn't fucking school, and you don't just go around hurting everyone around you." A hand lightly brushes Santana's shoulder, causing her to look up. "It's me."
"I'm sorry… I just get really nervous about meeting new people, and-and she's so important to you and I wanted to make a good impression, and things got out of hand-"
"You're rambling," the blonde warns. "Look, Liz is a really good person. Just apologize and explain, okay?"
Santana nods and turns around, not meeting either Liz's or Frannie's eyes in embarrassment. "Hi, uhm, Ms. Armstrong." Liz looks up to meet Santana's eyes, but the girl is still looking at her feet. Her hands start to shake and she twiddles her thumbs to conceal it. "I didn't mean to come off so…"
"Bitchy?" Liz fills in, causing the girl to snap up her eyes to meet blue ones.
"Yeah, that." She shifts on her feet. "I was just nervous about meeting you and you're important to Quinn." Santana takes a deep breath. "That's not really me, and I'm…sorry."
Liz looks at Santana with skepticism. If she had never met Quinn and befriended the young, damaged girl, she wouldn't have accepted Santana's apology. Yet, if there is anything she's learned from Quinn, it's that people aren't the same as they were twenty years ago when the older woman was in high school. They've grown to be harder, meaner; all because of other people being hard and mean towards them. She can't really blame the young girl in front of her for having her walls up. And for that reason, she stands up and puts a hand on the girl's shoulder. "It's okay. I get it." Which she does. She gets it, but she wishes she doesn't have to.
A breath of relief escapes Santana as her shoulders and back visibly relax, causing a kind of bittersweet pain to run down her spine after being tense for so long. They each sit down at the table, Quinn next to Santana for comfort. The air around the four women seems to get lighter and conversation comes so easily to each of them. Even the waiter felt lighter after Santana apologized in her Santana way and was just a little bit nicer to him.
"So you both got on the Cheerios, I hear?" Liz asks as she takes a sip of her iced tea.
Quinn smiles a bright and genuine grin that threatens to almost break her face in half. "Yes! We did! I'm the captain of the squad, thanks to this girl right here." She nudges her friend with her shoulder and throws her arm around Santana for a half-hug. "She's my best friend."
Two words. All it takes is two words to light up Santana's world, and bring it crashing down in a split second. Yes, she thinks of Quinn as her best friend too, but she can't help but think of the conversation with Amber a couple of days ago. She doesn't know anything about Quinn. Her favorite color, favorite animal, if she likes to read, what her favorite music is, nothing. Without even really thinking it through, Santana blurts out, "Hey, how do you like your coffee?"
A/N: Well, look at that. I hope you guys liked the little peek into Santana's background, and I really hope you review and let me know what you think about the chapters. I really love each and every one of your reviews and I'll see you guys next time. Perhaps with an update on a different story (hint hint). Xx my little darlings.