Santana sat back in her chair, trying to soothe her headache. When she was invited for after school coffee she didn't expect to have to sit and listen to her two friends complain about their boyfriends.

Waa, Finn spends more time with Rachel than me cause she's not so demanding.

Waa, Artie talks to me like a child cause he lacks the proper knowledge on social skills.

Waa, boyfriends are hard.

Santana reached for her coffee, letting out an audible groan as she lifted the empty cup with ease. She looked over to Quinn, who was in mid sentence and cleared her throat.

Quinn slowed her sentence to a halt and looked at Santana, "Yes?"

Santana gave a pout, "Get me more coffee?"

Quinn furrowed her brows, "Do your legs not work?"

"If you want to keep complaining to me then you have to supply my addiction." Santana waited for Quinn to budge before putting on a bigger pout, "Pweeze, Quinny."

Quinn gave her a glare before standing up, snatching Santana's cup from her and stomping to the shop's counter.

Santana smiled as she watched her leave, before catching Brittany's judging gaze, "What?"

"Why are you so grouchy today? No, wait," Brittany tapped her finger against her chin, "why have you been so grouchy these last couple of weeks?"

"Maybe I hate school."

"Maybe you hate that summer's over and you have to share Quinn with her boyfriend."

Santana took a sharp breath, "Wrong." She leaned back against her chair and folded her arms.

"Right."

"Look I just don't want to spend my afternoon sitting here listening to you both cry about your gross boyfriends."

"Artie's not my boyfriend." Brittany gave a slight smile, "Not yet."

"Same difference."

"If it's so bad why don't you join in?" Brittany rested her head on her fist, "You can complain about how Quinn doesn't like you back."

Santana paused, watching Brittany as the blonde gave her a knowing look, "What did you just say?"

Brittany sighed, "It's so osseous."

"The word you're thinking of obvious and it's not cause I'm not." Santana watched Brittany shake her head, "Do you want me to prove that I don't like her?"

"Prove to yourself?"

"Brittany."

"I'm so sick of you all thinking I'm so dumb when I actually see everything."

Santana folded her arms tighter against herself, "I think you have me mixed up with Artie. You know good and well that you're one of the smartest people I know."

"You don't act like it." Brittany scrunched up her face and looked away, "None of you act like it. Which is stupid and I'm probably smarter than all you people combined."

"Britt, check yourself on who you're talking to right now."

Brittany looked back at Santana, her gaze softening, "I'm sorry, Sanny. What he said to me has got my head all messed up."

Santana sighed in response, "I don't like Quinn like that and I'll prove it to you even though I don't need to but I apparently do cause you brought it up."

Quinn returned to the table and set the coffee in front of Santana, "Here you go, princess."

Santana looked at the coffee and back to Quinn, "Thanks... bitch."

Brittany looked unconvinced while Quinn let out a laugh, "You can call me whatever you like but you still owe me like seven bucks for the coffee."

Santana tried not to let Quinn's laugh make her smile as she felt Brittany's stare on the side of her face. Brittany may have been a young Einstein but Santana's feelings couldn't have been that obvious.

Santana's eyes focused on someone behind Quinn's head and let herself relax, "Puck! Puckermen! Yes, you! Come here! Now!"

Puck walked over, a smug look on his face, "I have been summoned?"

"Your party tonight," she waited for him to confirm it, "I'm going."

"Fuck yeah! It's been a million years since you've come to a party." Puck smiled hard.

"Wait, wait wait. It's Friday," Quinn confirmed to Santana, "I thought we were going to have a girl's night."

"Change of plans," Santana said to Quinn without looking at her, knowing that Quinn could probably convince her if she tried.

Brittany began to whine, "But Sanny-"

"You know damn well why plans have changed." Santana snapped, "Anyways, I haven't been to a party in a million years so why not?"

"Okay," Quinn leaned her elbows on the table, "We'll all be there."

Santana furrowed her brows, "Your parents are going to let you go to a party late at night?"

"I already told them I was staying at yours so what they don't know won't kill them."

"Will Artie be there?" Brittany asked Puck.

"Who?"

"The nerd in the wheelchair," Santana explained.

"Oh." Puck gave Brittany a weird look, "I can invite him if you want, I guess."

"That would be great." Brittany looked over to Santana, "Then I could tell him how I feel about him and maybe inspire a few people to break out of their turtle shells."

Santana huffed at Brittany, "Gross."

"That settles it!" Puck stuffed his hands in his pockets, "The Unholy Trinity will be attending the Pucktacular Extravaganza tonight!"

He skipped off, almost knocking a boy off his feet as he did so.

Quinn looked over to the other girls, "What did he just call us?"

XXX

Santana gripped her steering wheel tight in her hands. She didn't know how she got tricked into not only driving both her blonde friends to the party but also Finn. She looked at Quinn and Finn whispering in the back from her mirror and felt her blood boil.

And there was Brittany, who was on her all day about this crush that Brittany was sure that Santana had on Quinn. She was certain that telling Quinn would be "so easy" but there's no possible way when Barbie and Ken were busy making kissy faces at each other in her backseat.

Santana shook her head at herself, realizing that Ken wasn't the best comparison for Finn. He was more like one of those boys from the Bratz dolls. Or maybe from the Monster High dolls. Was there a Frankenstein boy Monster High character? She'll have to ask Brittany later once the blonde got off her back with this whole crush thing.

Santana pushed the button for her window to go down and breathed in a breath of fresh air. These people better not have thought she was the designated driver tonight cause they'd better find a new way home quick.

"Hey, Santana," Finn said from in back of her, "Do you mind rolling up the window? It's freezing back here."

"I do mind."

There was a pregnant silence before Finn's voice rang through again, "What about a little radio? Or maybe hand the aux cord back?"

Santana's hand slammed on the radio knob, making nice, mindless music pop over the stereos. For a few moments, Santana started to relax.

Until she heard Finn again, "Hey, Santana. Do you mind scooting up your chair a bit? It's a little cramped back here."

Santana slammed her foot on the brake, stopping her car in the middle of the road and turned back to him, "How about you don't tell me what to do with my car when you're in it unless you're prepared to hop the fuck out and walk the rest of the way there?"

She waited for him to say something back before she turned back to the front and started to drive again, enjoying the silence she created in the backseat.

It wasn't a long lasting joy as Quinn's voice soon piped up, "I'm sorry about her. She doesn't usually overreact like she's on crack."

Santana rolled her eyes, "Nice insult, Fabray. You read that in your monthly subscription to Boring Bitches Magazine?"

"You know what," Quinn began, even though Finn was trying to calm her down with meaningless hushes, "I hope you fix your attitude before we go into this party because Puck invited you, not some ugly little ogre."

"What did you just call me?" Santana kept her eyes on the road but stayed in the slow lane in case she needed to stop the car again.

"Please stop fighting." Brittany pleaded.

Quinn went on like she didn't hear Brittany's plea, "You've done nothing but have been cracked up little asshole today and all Brittany and I have wanted to do is spend time with you but you've been acting like it's the worst thing in the entire world."

"Maybe it is!"

"Oh please, like hanging around you is a walk in the park."

"You entitled bitch, I didn't want to hang out with either one of you because all you two seem to talk about is your boyfriend's small dicks all day. It's annoying and pathetic and basic!"

"You vulgar cow!"

"You're the only cow here, Fabray!"

"You know what? I hope that little piece of shit crush you like is here at this party so that I could tell him what a fucking joke you are. Hopefully, he'll figure out how much of an indecent person you are before he wastes his time on you!"

"Good!" Santana pulled up to Puck's house, turning off the car but not chancing a look towards Quinn, "Then I'll miss the chance to look like a complete and total loser like you both look every fucking day you can't seem to hop off your boyfriend's dicks. Fucking tragic!"

"You're fucking tragic!" Quinn hopped out the car and slammed the door shut. She stormed off with Finn, who moments after she got out the car followed her.

"Great comeback," Santana mumbled as she watched them leave into the house and felt tears prick at her eyes.

"Why'd you do that?" Brittany asked softly next to her.

"Because I was proving to you that I don't like her. I never fucking will." Santana closed her eyes shut, "I don't want to. I can't."

Brittany sat back in her seat, "Well it's not about 'wanting' to. If I could choose someone to like, you think I'd want to like Artie?"

Santana looked over to Brittany, a few tears spilling out of her eyes, "I just can't like her. It's so wrong."

"What's wrong with it?"

Santana shrugged and Brittany reached for one of her hands.

"The other day, when Artie called me stupid, my heart was broken." Brittany took a heavy breath, "And I didn't want to like him anymore. You always tell me I'm out of his league."

"You are, Britt. You can have any guy that you want."

"But I don't want any guy. At least not right now. And it makes me mad and I don't want to feel so weak but I like him. And I gotta accept that. Even if I can't act on it."

Santana shook her head, "I can't."

"You can't what?"

"I can't," Santana swallowed hard, "be with her."

"Even though what?"

Santana felt her body shake as emotion bubbled up, "Even though I like her. I like her so much. Oh God, why?"

Brittany brought her into a hug while Santana let her tears fall onto Brittany's shoulder.

"This is the worst, B. Why her?" Santana blubbered onto Brittany's shoulder.

Brittany patted Santana's back, "Well, she's not the worst person on the planet. Could have been someone worse."

"Does that make me gay?"

"Does it?"

Santana began to cry harder, "Cake shops are going to hate me."

Brittany held Santana until the girl relaxed, "Come on, San. Wipe your face. Now you can go into this party as a new person."

Santana frowned and leaned back into her seat, "Gayer?"

"No. As yourself."

Santana gave a slight smile to that before turning serious, "You can't tell anyone. Especially not Quinn. Maybe I can get past high school, date models for the next couple of years and then see Quinn when we're both 40. I'll be highly successful and she'll be married, slightly overweight and putting three kids through college, and I won't be into her anymore."

Brittany nodded and let out a sad giggle, "Sure, Sanny. Just fix your makeup.

Santana nodded and opened up her mirror to face her ruined mascara.

XXX

When Santana walked into the party she felt emotionally drained and ready to leave. The people were too rowdy and Brittany had left her side quite quickly. It just wasn't her scene that night.

She couldn't even make it to the drinks before bumping into a solo Quinn.

"Hi..." Quinn looked down, bitting at her lip before leaning closer to speak over the music at Santana, "I didn't mean to make you cry."

Santana shook her head at her, "You didn't."

"I saw you from the front windows." Quinn stood awkwardly, "No one else saw. Just me."

"You didn't make me cry. It's just been a hard day."

"Oh."

"Yep."

"Okay."

They stood awkwardly before Santana let out a sigh and walked around Quinn, hoping the girl wouldn't follow her but having no such luck.

"I won't be apologizing," Quinn said behind her.

"Whatever." Santana walked into the kitchen and up to the red cups and the arrays of drinks.

Quinn leaned on the counter next to her, "Are you going to make me one, too?"

Santana looked over to her, wanting to glare but instead just nodded before putting two red cups in front of her, "Where's Finn?"

"I sent him off." Quinn folded her arms, "I told him not to bother you in the car but he doesn't listen."

Santana started to pour them both drinks, "There may have been a chance that I overreacted out there."

She scooted Quinn's drink over to the girl and they stood in silence for a few moments. Santana's mind went back to the conversation she had with Brittany in the car, "I think I should be honest with you about something."

Quinn rolled her cups between her hands, "You can be honest with me about anything."

"You know this whole... This whole crush thing that I have on this person. Well, this is gonna sound crazy and I don't want this to change anything between us but-"

"Hoepez!" Puck's voice rang behind her making Santana flinch, "And the beautiful Quinn Fabray."

Puck slunk his way in between them and snatched Santana's cup away from her, taking a swallow of her drink, "Tell me you both are joining the party."

"Actually, Noah, we were just talking. Privately." Quinn folded her arms, "So if you could..."

"Not anything too important, right?" Puck smiled over to Santana.

Santana shook her head, realizing how crazy she was for considering telling Quinn how she felt. Quinn was straight, had a boyfriend and would never look at Santana that way. This would have been the most awkward moment of her life.

Puck basically saved her from total embarrassment.

"Shots?" Santana suggested and watched as Puck's eyes lit up.

"Fuck yeah!" Puck grabbed a bottle of vodka, a few small glasses and headed out of the kitchen.

Santana began to follow him but was stopped by Quinn's hand, "You were going to tell me something."

"Maybe later." Santana gave a small smile, "Like much later."

Quinn looked disappointed but nodded.

They went to find Puck at a small table behind most of the crowd, where Brittany was busy chatting up Artie. Once Brittany saw them coming over she gave Santana a hopeful look, which was responded with a solum shake of Santana's head.

"Here's the thing, Hoepez." Puck set down the glasses and poured into two of them, "You haven't partied with me in months because you've been busy with this whole girl bonding thing you've suddenly been into."

Puck handed her one of the glasses, "It's not fair. I haven't gotten any time with you. And yes, one of the perks is that every time you come around you bring beautiful women with you, but none of you stay long."

"Pour me one, too." Quinn said confidently next to them.

Puck gave her a surprised look but complied, "Now before we party, I'm looking for a apology. And not a normal one, I want one that you know I'll accept."

Santana rolled her eyes, feeling a bit embarrassed that Quinn was witnessing how lame she and Puck could be, "Seriously?"

"That's not an apology!"

Santana huffed, "Fine! I'm sorry for leaving you hanging, Suckermen."

"That's more like it!" Puck tipped his drink into his mouth, prompting the girls to follow him.

Santana cringed from its strong taste but recovered quicker than Quinn who looked like she was about to puke.

"Come on, Santana. Three shots minimum." Puck poured more vodka into her glass.

"Same." Quinn put out her glass.

Santana gave her a look, "Quinn..."

"Don't be a party pooper, Santana."

"Yeah," Puck pipped in, "Don't be a party pooper."

He poured her and himself another glass and they all downed them, Quinn taking it better than she did before.

XXX

Four shots and a weird 'Puck mixture' later and Santana was tipsy. Maybe on the verge of drunk. She'd be drunker if it wasn't for stupid Quinn making her eat all day long. Who eats breakfast anyways?

Santana sat cross legged on a chair, originally talking to Brittany but now watching Quinn from across the room. Finn had found her and now they were doing that dumb googly-eye thing that made Santana's stomach turn. Santana wished that Quinn would look at her the same way Finn looked at Quinn. She swirled her drink in her hand before downing it, hoping that it'll distract her away from the blonde.

"So then I told him that I wasn't stupid," Brittany continued her story, "But then he brought up the magic comb and am I wrong for thinking there's such thing as a magic comb?"

Santana looked over to Brittany, "No way, Britt. Anything is possible."

"That's what I said!"

"Anything except..." Santana cleared her throat, a rush of emotion rushing up, "People liking you back when you like them."

Brittany scrunched up her face.

"No, please. Continue your story. It's just," Santana felt the tears forming in her eyes and tried to wipe them away before they fell, "You obvious like Artie and he's too dumb to care. It's so fucking fucked up."

Santana put her face into her hands, trying to hold in a sob that found her way into her throat.

"Santana." A voice literally called from across the room and soon Quinn was kneeling next to Santana, her hand rubbing circles on her back, "Why are you crying?"

Santana just shook her head.

"Who did it?" Quinn's voice was angry, but her words slurred, "Point them out. I will literally kill them for you."

Quinn looked over to Brittany for answers, but the taller blonde looked lost for words, "We were just talking about Artie and then this... I guess she's had too much to drink."

Quinn looked back to Santana, "Don't tell me this is about that stupid crush thing you were trying to tell me about."

Santana swallowed down anymore crying her body was trying to make her do as she wiped at her eyes, "I don't want to talk about it, Quinn."

"You know what, get up." Quinn stood to her feet and put out a hand, "We will make the asshole jealous."

Santana furrowed her brow and looked over to Brittany, whom just gave her a shrug in response. So Santana took the hand and was yanked her to her feet and onto the dance floor (Puck's living room).

Once there, Quinn pulled Santana into her, leading them both into a dance.

Santana felt a giggle rising in her throat, her rush of emotions suddenly feeling light years away, "What are you doing, Fabray?"

"This will obviously get your guy's attention. So hush and pretend to be into it." Quinn informed her sternly.

Santana gave her a look but slowly let Quinn lead her into a slow dance. It was actually kind of nice and Quinn's hands on her waist wasn't the worst thing on the planet. Maybe for a second she could actually enjoy herself.

So as they swayed, Santana pretended that this was more than a friendly dance and they were both single and open to anything. She pretended that there wasn't a bunch of losers and strangers around them as they danced and pretended that the song wasn't changing into a beat faster than the current. She pretended that Quinn's grip was a little tighter around her and that it wasn't platonic the way Santana slipped her fingers through Quinn's hair. She pretended that Quinn was enjoying this as much as she was and that maybe, if she was lucky, she'd be able to kiss Quinn.

"Santana." Quinn brought her back to reality.

"Hmm?" Santana looked up to Quinn's eyes.

"Point him out. I want to see his face."

"Point who out?"

"Your crush."

Santana felt lost. She couldn't even remember when they started dancing in the first place, so she just leaned her head on Quinn's shoulder, "Can't see him."

Quinn continued to lead them in a sway and let out a soft laugh, "Why do you I get the feeling that you're actually enjoying this?"

"Cause I am." Santana mumbled into her shoulder with a shrug. She was starting to feel a bit tired and like she should be sitting down but couldn't get herself to split from Quinn's arms.

And as the music began to echo in her ears, she could have sworn Quinn said that she was enjoying herself too.

XXX

Santana woke up, a bitter taste in her mouth, her face flat against a firm pillow, and in a bed that wasn't her own. After blinking her eyes to adjust to the light, she knew what bed it was from the nightstand next to her. Puck usually let her stay over when his parties were too much for her and he had a nicely made up guest room that was usually just for her.

But then her foot kicked someone next to her. She froze and kicked the person once again.

"Could you please stop?" A voice mumbled.

Santana relaxed, realizing that it was just Quinn. Then she realized that it was Quinn.

Santana sat up, bringing the comforter to her chest once she noticed that she was only in her bra and underwear, "What happened last night?!"

Quinn mumbled something to herself moving herself to lay on her back.

"You got drunk and passed out." Quinn said in a gravelly voice while resting her arm on her forehead, "And I couldn't show up at my house drunk. Noah said we could stay here."

Santana realized that Quinn, too, was only in her bra and looked ahead of her, unwilling to let her eyes wander, "Why are we like half naked?"

Quinn shrugged, "I didn't want our clothes to wrinkle up."

Santana looked over to the corner of the room, where both of there clothes were carefully folded on a chair. She laughed, "You're so anal, Fabray."

"You're too loud." Quinn whined, "And it's still early. Lay back down."

Santana tried not to think too hard as she laid back down next to the blonde, "I don't remember half of the night."

"Nothing really happened," Quinn laid on her side to look at Santana, "Well, I mean, I got into a fight."

Santana looked over to her, eyebrows raised, "With who?"

"Your crush."

Santana furrowed her brows, "What?"

"Well," Quinn made a loud sigh before continuing, "You pointed him out to me. And I walked over to him, demanding that he'd like you. And he pretended to not be into you. He said he was afraid of you. So I threatened him and he didn't bite so I may have accidentally hit him. In the face. Violently."

Santana let out a laugh, trying to picture such a thing, "Wow."

"I kind of feel bad cause you like him and all and what if now I ruined your chances-"

"I'm pretty sure he wasn't even my crush."

"Of course he was and now he's probably even more afraid of you-"

"I don't have a crush on a guy, Fabray." Santana blurted out. She watched as Quinn stopped talking and waited for the blonde to show any emotion on her face.

Well, she did look surprised, "What do you mean?"

"I don't have a crush on a guy." Santana repeated with a bit more conviction but a bit nervous.

"You have a crush on," Quinn took a pause, "a girl?"

"Yeah." Santana gave a sad smile.

A heavy silence fell over them as Santana stared at Quinn, waiting for her to say anything.

"So..." Quinn looked away, "When'd you start being into girls?"

Santana shrugged.

Quinn gave her a look, "Then who are you into?"

"Um-"

"Is it someone from McKinley? Someone I know?" Quinn looked worried, "It's not- it's not Rachel Berry is it? Why does everyone like her?"

"God no, Quinn. I have standards."

Quinn let out sigh, "Thank goodness."

They both let out a laugh and let a comfortable silence come over them.

"This doesn't change anything between us," Quinn said softly, "Well, I mean it kind of does. Now we're closer."

Noises from downstairs caught Santana's attention and she sat up on the bed, "I guess the house is awake."

"Seems like it."

Santana stood up and walked over to one of the dressers that Puck usually prepares for her, "We can eat breakfast and then I can take you home."

"Or we can eat breakfast and I don't go home until much later tonight." Quinn suggested, watching Santana loot through the dresser.

Santana found some clothes for both Quinn and herself and tossed them at the girl. It didn't take long for them to get dressed and as they walked down to the kitchen, they were greeted half-heartedly by a hungover Puckermen.

"You two look extremely happy." Puck grimaced as he held his head.

"And you look like shit." Santana said with a smile as she went over to the fridge and looked for food that Quinn would be into eating.

Quinn sat at the kitchen table, "How much did you drink last night anyways?"

"Not enough to fight anyone." Puck teased as he sat across from her, "By the way, saw your crush, Lopez. I'm disappointed."

"Erase that from your memory cause apparently that was the wrong person." Quinn said with a shake of her head, "Santana's not even into guys."

An orange juice carton slipped from Santana's hands and she quickly turned to Puck, whom was staring at her, "I never said that I wasn't into guys."

"You're into a girl?" Puck asked, a surprised look on his face. Then he looked hurt, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I..." Santana didn't know what to say. So she shrugged.

Puck watched her, before a smile growing onto his face, "You're literally my Lezbro now."

"No, don't ever say that again." Santana picked back the juice and grabbed a few fruit to take to the table, "You're out of food."

She set the fruit and the juice in front of Quinn and sat next to her.

"Is it Brittany?" Puck asked, grabbing for an apple.

Santana scoffed, "She's taken. Plus she's my best friend."

Puck rubbed at his chin, "So that means that it's not Quinn either. Plus I called dibs on her so you couldn't have her anyways."

"I'm literally sitting right here." Quinn interrupted. She reached over and grabbed the apple from Puck's hands, "You can't call dibs on me, I'm a human being not piece of fruit."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Puck rolled his eyes, "Is this suppose to be a secret thing? You being gay or whatever."

"I don't want to label myself. But yes, keep this to yourself."

Puck crossed his heart and Quinn gave a small nod.