Orokid: There's not much to say about this chapter, other than the fact that I wrote the entirety out while I was out on the west coast for vacation. I'm not sure if it turned out entirely like I had originally planned, but I still kinda like how it turned out. That aside… There's part of this chapter that a part of me would prefer to have written over, but I don't think that I could write it better. I'm two minds about it. Still… I like how this is going, so far.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Especially if it's Glee or any of the characters from said show. Those belong to Ryan Murphy and company.

ENJOY THE STORY!

Chapter Seven

Run

"I'm in love with Santana Lopez."

The words were on repeat, echoing in the Latina's mind with a fury not unlike a level five hurricane, and she could only swear that her heart had to have stopped beating then and there. The world seemed to have stopped, her classmates still, almost like they were posing for a photo. All eyes were upon the blond and blue eyed goddess of a woman who stood center stage, waiting anxiously for a reaction from someone, anyone, an uneasy smile painted across her porcelain like features. Ocean met earth, begging and pleading for something the caramel skinned beauty wasn't sure of. The seated girl let out a shaky breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, noticing for the first time in that moment that her hands were shaking, fidgeting with the hem of the skirt she'd been wearing.

"I'm in love with Santana Lopez."

The Latina swallowed the lump forming in her throat, finding it particularly hard to gulp it down this time, her entire body still as her thoughts ran rampant. 'OhmyGod, she seriously said that. OhmyGod, what is everyone gonna think? OhmyGod, she swore to me that she wasn't going to say shit like that to them. OhmyGod ohmyGod ohmyGod…'

"I'm in love with Santana Lopez."

It was strange and scary to watch as nearly everyone's eyes had slowly and unsurely turned to look at her, who had, for some reason, seated herself on the top row in the center this day. Most were surprised, unable to process the given information further than it coming out from the blond's lips, but she could feel the few concerned gazes of those who seemed to actually care about her feelings rather than what sort of reaction she'd give and what kind of juicy gossip this would be. She could feel her fear grip her, harder than it ever had before, and with a quickness she hadn't realized she'd ever had, her backpack was filled with her belongings and the straps were over her shoulders. Silently, under the watchful gazes of the people whom she once thought were her friends, she attempted to walk out of the room, pride and confidence in her every step- yet the second she reached the doorway, her legs took a life of their own, running as fast as she could manage down the halls.

Immediately upon the girl's absence, the group began to talk, began to gossip, wondering and speculating as to why the blond had said what she had and why the head bitch of McKinley hadn't either laughed it off or said something that would diffuse the situation somehow. No, she had run, leaving many a glee member curious. A duo of hazel eyes locked with one another, and, as Mister Shuester attempted to quiet the conversations building around him, they reached an unsaid agreement. Puck rose from his seat, jogging quickly toward the hall, easily spotting the haphazardly tossed shoes not too far away. Quinn stood from her's, carefully approaching the other blond who had yet to move, remaining in her place as shock and sadness washed over her. The prom queen wannabe stood, opening her arms to the girl who had once been her close friend, offering a place for her to fall into- a hug in which Brittany accepted, tears finally beginning to fall as she realized just what had happened. Carefully, they moved out into the empty hallway, excusing themselves with a meaningful gaze by the lithe and beautiful queen toward Mister Shuester's location.

Artie simply watched, lost, unsure, his heart falling to pieces as he realized that he had been fighting against the possibility of the girls probably since he and Brittany had gotten together.

The rest of the glee club seemed to jet along, although with the absence of four members, it ended up with more performances in which were supposed to go along with the theme. Still, for the wheelchair bound boy, it had gone by incredibly fast, his attention on the empty seat beside him, hopeful to gather his thoughts about everything that was going on. Even as Rachel took the stage, offering the club a rousing number based off a number from a Broadway show in which he'd never heard of or didn't care about, he remained, preoccupied in a sea of others who were clapping along to the beat. His heart and mind was far from the club, from the activities around him, and he barely took notice when their director had finally dismissed them. It was only when Sam had taken hold of the wheelchair's handlebars, wheeling him out of the choir room, that he had figured out that the club had come to an end.

"So…" the blond haired male attempted, not quite sure what to say in a moment like this one. Artie felt the male tap on the handles, an awkward sigh escaping his lips as the boy desperately tried to think of something to say, coming up with next to nothing with each step they took. "Britt and Satan…" Even if he hadn't meant to, the bespectacled boy flinched at her name, although a part of him wasn't sure which 'her' had caused him to do so. Sam forced a smile, somehow knowing in his heart how this had to feel, cast aside by the girl he loved. The only thing that made the situation much worse was that the 'other guy' happened to be a chick.

It was then and there that the blond haired and blue eyed male figured out just why Santana had dumped him, only to sing that song about unrequited love moments later. Bitterness simmered within him, feeling as his pride took the blow. For some reason, it felt worse than when Quinn had ditched him for Finn.

"We're in the same boat, you know." Sam tried to give the boy a smile, hopeful to cheer up the despondent male from the obvious sadness he must feel, although he realized moments later how stupid he must be since they were facing the same direction. Still, the words earned him a grunt in response which held neither disbelief or much of anything other than sadness. "I mean… I knew there was someone else and all, but… I dunno. Always thought it was a dude." Silence reigned between the two men, and the large lipped male wished he could say something to cheer his friend up. "Y'know… I know that you love Brittany, man…" he started, searching for the right way to word what he was going to say to him, "… but think about it. She was being honest, but she hasn't broken up with you. That has to mean something, right?"

Artie's hands moved to the wheels on his chair, slowly edging it to a stop, and the football player took that as a sign to do the same. Without looking up, his eyes centered upon the two blonds talking quietly to one another at the end of the long hall, he only asked, "Can you help me perform something tomorrow?"

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Quinn had begun listening to the young dancer talk about everything she'd known but never heard about, trying as hard as she could to keep her mind open and judgment free as the girl confided in her for the first time in years. Although she'd never admit it aloud, she missed her friends, missed talking to them on a regular basis, missed laughing together at three in the morning during an innocent sleepover- unlike the ones she'd heard that her friends had shared. While a part of her balked at some of the things she was hearing, her love for God and the good book not far from her mind, she nodded to tell the girl to continue, her heart bleeding for both of her former comrades as she did her best to understand. After all, she knew them, she cared for them probably more than anyone else at the school, and just because the preacher said to disapprove, she couldn't. Rubbing the crystal orbed girl's back, hopeful to ease the tears that were falling from her eyes, Quinn took in her words, simply grateful that the blond had only skimmed the details on the more 'personal' affects of her and Santana's relationship… not that anyone in the entire glee club didn't know or fantasize about the idea of the two girls together. But the second when feelings became involved, when sweet and lovable Brittany announced that she cared for her Hispanic companion much more than just a fun and flirty friend, it became different. Tainted even.

"I just don't know what to do." The desperation and need for answers to unsaid questions was easily heard, and the hazel eyed blond offered her a kind and endearing smile. As much as she wished she knew of a way, of a reason, and that her smile was as infectious as the girl's in front of her, she knew the truth. She had no answers, and the frown and the tears in the girl's eyes remained. Placing a gentle and caring hand upon Brittany's shoulder, Quinn once again gave the girl a smile, doubling her efforts in hopes that it'd work. "What should I do? What if she never want to see me again? What if I screwed everything up because she's not ready to tell them that she's Lebanese?"

"She's Hispanic, B." Confusion laced the former head cheerleader's voice, and the tall dancer could only look at the other girl like she was the most idiotic person she'd ever known- a gaze the proud teenager didn't feel comfortable being under. "Look, whatever." Waving her hand absentmindedly around, she brushed the subject away, deciding that there were other better things to waste time arguing over. "That doesn't matter. What does… is that we need to plan." A twinkle showed in her beautiful hazel eyes, something that seemed to cause a glimmer of hope within the other girl as she sniffed quietly, rubbing her crystals free from the tears falling from them. "I think I had an idea."

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Puck had probably been searching the general direction she had run for about thirty minutes, and every time he felt like he was close to locating her, she was still nowhere to be found. He was frustrated, beyond so really, although the time gave him enough to figure out (more or less) what he'd like to tell her. The longer it took though, the more expletives he seemed to be adding. Just about ready to give up, he spotted in the distance out on the wooden seats near the practice field a figure with dark hair and eluding to her once dominate attitude. He marched passed the jumping and lithe bodies of several young women he'd yet to make the acquaintance of, too angry with the person he was making his way toward to fully take in the sight of the cheerleaders as they desperately tried to make their screaming coach appeased- something they had yet to find out was impossible. He climbed with ease to the top, seating himself down haphazardly beside the girl that had yet to move. With a grunt, he pushed toward her the heels she'd left behind, which she gingerly took from him, never once turning her gaze. They sat, silent, the words he had once wanted to say now lost from him.

"I miss feeling like I ruled this school."

The male's attention remained forward, but he nodded in response, understanding partially that, while things had happened that caused her to step down and away from the squad, she missed it. Maybe not the Hitler like exercises, definitely not being called various names by the coach, but there had been power in the position- a power she was obviously feeling like she had lost without that dreaded uniform she had once worn.

Still, Puck could only roll his eyes at the very thought that the girl beside him had gone soft after all this time. "You still can." He watched from the corner of his eye as her posture changed, curling into herself just a little, but enough to see her self-consciousness. It only seemed to spur him on, and his prior irritation returned to him. "Jesus… Where's all that badassery that made you hot?" The Latina turned to him, her gaze lethal, and a smile couldn't help but form on his lips. One of the things that everyone and no one seemed to realize was just how much pride she put into being the sexy, untouchable one- even when she was pulling crap like what she was doing. "You know… You can't keep running away from everything."

"I can if I try." Her soft mutter made him want to laugh, although he felt a tinge of sadness over her simple statement, and it seemed to crawl mercilessly into his heart. She never wanted to accept herself, no matter all the big talk she made about her feelings for her blond friend. Shaking his head, he moved to get up, only to be stopped by a hand on his forearm. "Where are you going?"

"To find a hot lesbian to be her lesbro, 'cause you don't have the balls to do the one thing that'll make you happy." His tone was much harder than he had wanted it to be, his frustrations with the situation getting the better of him. Still, he wasn't about to back down after what he'd just started, seeing the fear and apprehension grip her. "You're always throwing yourself around, giving a shit about what people would think if you decide to be true to yourself for the first frickin' time I've known you. You didn't care when people called you a whore. You didn't give a flying fuck when people started saying shit when you got your implants. Why the fuck do you care now what a bunch of idiots and douches that will never leave this town say?" The male heaved a heavy and angry sigh, but as she sat there, staring into the emptying fields of what used to be, he knew that he had at least gotten her attention. She was listening. "Don't end up a Lima loser like the rest of 'em, San, 'cause you're better than them. You're better than throwing yourself at some guy, better than getting married to a man you don't love, better than having little midgets who will only wonder where mommy goes with her 'best friend' every weekend." His tone had grown kinder the more he spoke, his worry for her future and her well-being apparent. Brown eyes studied him, unsure what to say after everything he'd just said. As much as she wanted to deny it, she couldn't, knowing within her heart that he was right. That was the path she was going down with each and every passing day, denying herself.

A blip of a ringtone sounded, alerting both of them, and the mohawked male reached into his pocket, gathering the offending device into his hand. With a grumble and a few choice words she barely caught, he pressed a few buttons, turning his gaze toward the beautiful Latina beside him. Shoving his phone back where he had taken it, his lips caught somewhere between a smile and a grimace. "Finn just texted me."

"What does Frankenteen want?" Her tone was bitter, although he could hear a soft and barely noticeable interest despite it all.

"Shue gave us another assignment for the week." The Latina raised an eyebrow, asking without opening her mouth just what that meant to her. "Something about the present and future, where you see yourself, some shit like that." He shrugged, unsure what else there was to say about the message, and he knew that he'd have to call someone else later for a better interpretation. Although she knew the details weren't very specific, she had a sinking feeling in her gut that she knew all too well what this assignment meant.

Silence reigned between the two friends, curious just what to say after everything that had passed between them, stuck both in the past and present as they tried to feel out the walls of the new noun they were calling themselves. The Latina felt herself bite unsurely on the inside of her bottom lip, and Puck ran a hand absentmindedly through his Mohawk. Their eyes watched as the squad finished packing up their things, although their minds were far from this place, this school- perhaps even the world. With a heavy sigh, the male turned his hazel orbs toward the frightened yet passive girl beside him, knowing all too well that she had escaped into her thoughts in hopes that they would finally make sense. "You know… I want you to be happy."

"I know." Her words were quiet yet sincere, and he watched as a soft breeze tussled her silk-like hair. "Thank you." The taller boy turned to look at her, astonished to hear the one phrase that had to taste like vinegar in her mouth. In all the years he'd ever known her, those words were few and far between, and the fact that she had said it at all had to mean one thing- she meant them wholly and entirely. If the moment hadn't been so tense and unsure, let alone surprising, he would have teased her mercilessly because, after all, that was part of the job duties of a lesbro.

Biting back the snaky comment that desperately wanted to come out, the muscular football player wrapped an arm caringly around her shoulders- nothing perverted or dishonest, just an offer of support that the stubborn girl leaned into, accepting it. The mohawked male could only grin at the sight and feeling of her leaning how to completely trust him. "So… Can I get in on your song committee?" She turned her brown eyes toward him, surprised to know that he knew she had sought help and also that he wished to join in on the festivities of making her feel like a complete idiot in public. Still, she simply raised an eyebrow at him instead of verbalizing her curiosity over it all. "Finn mentioned you were hanging out with the wonder-gays. There's only two reasons you would do that: one, to have your Yodas show you the ways of the gay-" The Latina quirked a smile, punching the boy playfully in his arm, holding back the small chuckle that was threatening to spill out and over the best that she could. "- or, two, you didn't feel comfortable choosing a solo piece for the assignment on your own cause you'd end up chickening out."

"Shush," the girl barked softly, although it was obvious that she was trying to ignore and push away the smile upon her lips. "When did you find the time to get to know me?"

"I have my ways." This time, she slapped his arm, as if the minor violence would cause him to open up to his secrets. Still, the football player kept his lips shut, a proud grin on his face, simply pulling the beauty beside him into a one armed hug. Finally, as they attempted to wrestle for dominance, her failing to push herself away considering his strength compared to her own, Santana let out a loud and cheerful laugh.

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Orokid: Sooooo… Just want to say thanks for everything, from your reviews and you yourself for reading my story. If you have anything to say about the story, I welcome it with open ears. I realize that this is shorter than my usual, but ce la vie. I'll try and add more possibly to the next chapter to make up for it. Otherwise… If you have ideas, songs that Santana should sing and whatnot, I'm all ears for that too. X3