Content Warning: Transphobia, transmisogyny, t-slur
"Wonderful job, Rachel. A little over a week in and your dancing has improved by leaps and bounds." Her acting instructor called out at the end of her session, drawing Rachel's attention, as well as the attention of her dance instructor.
"Don't spoil her with praise, Chris. She still has a lot to learn." Miss Marin offered in rebuke, though Rachel could appreciate both perspectives. She really did feel like she'd made great strides in her dancing, but it was true that compared to the more elite dancers, she had a ways to go to be on par.
"Thank you, Miss Marin. I'll see you tomorrow!" Rachel let out as she moved towards the door, offering her acting instructor a curious lift of an eyebrow. "Did I forget something at the lecture earlier?"
Chris shook his head and pulled a small package from his jacket. "Darlene's off sick today, so I was tasked with handing out the mail. Your fathers sent this."
Rachel felt a rush of anticipation flow through her, knowing exactly what she'd been sent. "Oh! Thank you, I was hoping it'd come in today."
"I hope you enjoy whatever it is. I'll see you in class in a few minutes. Don't be late." Chris said as he handed over the package and headed out, leaving her alone with the wrapped-up vegan chocolate her fathers had promised her as a mid-way milestone gift for her course. It had come in a little late, but she wasn't about to complain.
She only had one class scheduled for the rest of the day, and that was a lecture, so she figured it'd be an optimal time to nibble away on her gift, given it wouldn't be a strenuous exercise-filled period.
Rachel entered the lecture hall ten minutes early to the sound of laughter coming from the right side of the room. To say it was predictable that her roommate, Megan, was the loudest, surrounded by her posse of dance specialists, would be a severe understatement. Megan laughed quite a bit, usually at someone else's expense. It was petty and immature, and Rachel could only hope the girls wouldn't be targeting anyone she knew.
"Hey, Rachel! Which suits you better, Man Hands, or Treasure Trail?" She heard Megan call out, freezing her to the spot in her seat for a brief moment. No doubt they'd stumbled upon her MySpace page. "I mean, I haven't seen enough of you to say for certain, but who are we to second guess your superiors back home?"
Rachel took in a steadying breath, knowing the other were likely just trying to pick away at her, as everyone had been picking away at others all camp long in a twisted sort of dominance ritual. She preferred letting her talent speak for her, but it didn't seem this would be one of those situations.
"As the founder of my school's Gay-Straight Alliance, I'll tell you what I told them...that those names are transphobic and harassment." Rachel stated firmly and clearly, though her words only drew more laughs.
"Well, you didn't deny either. Don't get me wrong, Man Hands, I'm no homophobe, me and the gays are tight, but we all know trannies are unnatural freaks." Megan continued, the occasional monosyllabic voiced support from her friends echoing her words. "And since I have to room with you, I deserve to know if you're some perv who gets off to real girls while we sleep."
Rachel could feel her dysphoria and anxiety flaring up, forcing her thoughts back to her fathers, back to Santana, back to her friends, back to all the trans people online that she'd met. She'd watched her family and friends fail to call out transphobia in the past, but no one was there to protect her. All she had was herself, and Rachel knew that was enough. That she would be enough.
"All girls are real girls, Megan. Cis or trans, all equally 'real'...I'm not going to entertain whatever witch hunt you feel compelled to perform today. If you have a problem with me, you can discuss it with the camp administrators." Rachel insisted, feeling proud of herself for now stumbling over her words or shaking too much in her delivery, though she felt a jolt of nerves as Megan got up and moved closer to where she was seated, leaning up against a nearby chair.
"I'd really prefer to get this out of the way right now, freak. You owe me that much. Either tell me, or lift your skirt...or I could just check personally." Megan threatened, forming a pit in Rachel's stomach even as she postured up. She knew she could end this newfound crusade by flashing her ID, but that would be stooping to their level and playing into their transphobia.
There wasn't a choice. It was the high road, or nothing at all.
"You do realize that you just sexually harassed me, right? I have connections with the state's branch of the ACLU, you'd do well to step back and take your objections elsewhere if you're so passionate about your transphobia." Rachel asserted, drawing a harsh laugh from Megan, her followers rising to form a miniature mob of sorts just feet away.
"I'd say the lady doth protest too much, but...at this point, I'm pretty sure you're a man. I mean, you really do have man hands, and you're flatter than almost everyone here. I'm pretty sure if I reached over there and grabbed..." Megan taunted, just starting to reach towards her when the door to the room slammed shut, startling them both.
"Miss Pelech, you're teetering on the verge of a sexual assault that, as a member of the staff, I would absolutely report to security. Our camp is LGBT friendly, and we have a zero tolerance policy regarding discrimination and harassment, so I suggest you apologize to Miss Berry and get back to your seat, and hope she doesn't file a complaint." Her professor, Chris, announced as he made his way down the steps towards the podium, passing the small crowd of students. "Am I understood, Miss Pelech?"
Megan's face was beet red, her blue eyes fuming, glaring daggers at her. Still, the dancer nodded and stepped back. "Yes, Professor Harlan." The girl noted blandly, before narrowing her eyes at Rachel. "Sorry, Berry."
The grit out pseudo-apology was nowhere near sincere, but the situation was over, and she couldn't help but feel relieved and a little proud of herself for holding up and staying firm on her morals. She gave her roommate a small nod and grabbed for her phone, sending a text away to Santana to vent about what had happened.
She didn't need Santana to rescue her, but she couldn't help but want a little support and affection after the fact, now that it was all handled.
Having full certainty that the faculty would be on her side? Well, that was just a huge bonus, and made her feel tremendously more secure for the rest of her stay.
Santana had just finished a late lunch, and was considering practicing scales on her keyboard when a knock at her door tossed those thoughts to the back of her mind.
Britt was gone for a few days to visit the biggest ball of twine or something up in Minnesota, and Rachel was gone at camp, which left a considerably pared down list of potential visitors. Neighbours, parents' friends, or Quinn...
Santana wasn't sure what to hope for. Neighbours were always so nosy, and in her business, and seriously could not shut up for a goddamn minute, always going on about some stupid bullshit about their gardens, or pot lucks, or interior decorating. Her parents' friends wouldn't stick around long if she was home alone, but they'd always ask when her mother or father would be home. Outside of Tuesday, who knew? Santana certainly didn't, given her dad's tendency to be on call on random days, and her mother being wherever the hell she was all the time.
So there was some relief that she wouldn't deal with either of those when she saw the outline of a blonde girl through the decorative glass of her front door, but it still had her wondering how the hell to handle her friend.
Frankly, she still hadn't figured out a plan of action by the time she opened the door and gestured for Q to come in from the summer heat, though the big duffel the girl was carrying had some questions sprouting in her mind.
"You had dinner yet?" Quinn asked flatly, head on a swivel and scanning the living room. For whatever reason, Q was on edge, and that had the odds of another meltdown from blondie spiking upwards.
"It's not even three, Q. I just had lunch, though, like, five minutes ago." Santana noted, following the blonde into the living room , but not committing to it, staying by the entrance instead. Quinn looked like she was ten seconds from imploding, and Santana knew that maybe a different environment than the living room, where they had their last fight, could be better. "I was just working on some stuff upstairs, why don't you come up?"
Quinn fidgeted with the strap of the duffel bag, but nodded silently. It was enough, so Santana turned and made her way up to her room, leaving the door wide open so Q could follow her in, given she hadn't heard the girl's footsteps pacing her own.
Santana flopped down onto her bed and rolled onto her back, mind racing with possibilities. She'd gotten a hold of Q through text message last week like Rachel had suggested. She'd even been nice and shit about it, for all the good that did her, given Q never replied. Still, she's here now...and Rachel's right, i need to be there for her, because she's seriously off. Something's up...
She heard the slow steps ascending towards her room, she heard her friend stop at around the doorway. Whatever was buzzing around Q's head, she knew the blonde had to talk first to give her some semblance of an idea of how to handle her. Silence streched on, and on, and Santana was almost fed up and bored enough to just sit up and yell for Quinn to get the hell in and sit the fuck down, but she finally heard it.
A shaky exhale, just loud enough to be audible, not loud enough to be on purpose. Which meant Q would go on the attack to cover up whatever the hell brought that on.
"Cheer camp's starting in a week. You're joining." Quinn stated almost firmly, a little too much waver in her voice to feel that usual iciness.
"I was never going to be a cheerleader forever, Q. I'm not one now, and I'm not gonna be." Santana shot back lazily, shifting up in bed to lounge against her collection of pillows.
Quinn's face got a little redder, from anger perhaps, or frustration, it was always hard to tell. Both similar enough feelings, though, so Santana wasn't too concerned, given the lack of hellfire burning in Q's eyes. "It's who...we... are, Santana." Quinn grit out, rehashing the same argument from last time. As if Q was that much of a dumbass; no, there was something else pushing that argument up, and it wasn't cheerleading. It wasn't about prom queen. It wasn't even about their push-pull dynamic.
Last time around, she said we live for it...this time, she says it's who we are... Santana mused to herself as she gave her friend another look over. Quinn's roots are showing...just barely, but...hell, that never happens.
"It's really not, Q. It's not who I am." Santana let out, unsure if this was the right call, but like hell if she'd be wishy-washy and drag this on longer than it had to be.
"What the hell, San?! I'm not sure I even know who you are anymore!" Quinn lashed out, predictably at that. Santana had put out the bait, and now that Q bit, she could only hope she could reel the girl in.
Santana patted the space beside her. "Maybe it's time I stop keeping you at arm's length, then." She stated in response, drawing a startled, confused blink or two from her blonde friend. "Fuck it, let me fill in the blanks." She added, shaking her head at the sheer lunacy of what she was considering. Goddamn Rachel Berry and her kind fucking heart rubbing off on me...
"Am I in the Twilight Zone, or did you actually try to start a conversation about yourself? Like, a legitimate one?" Quinn asked, still shooting her a disbelieving stare that was bordering on sort of disarmingly creepy.
"Just get the fuck over here before I change my mind, Blondie." Santana ordered, and for once in her life, Quinn acquiesced, dropping the bag by the door before moving to sit cross-legged beside her. "You do understand why I got into cheer, right?"
"Power. Everyone joins for the power." Quinn answered, and okay, maybe there was some truth to that. Still, it wasn't the whole story.
"That played a part, sure. I was tired of getting bullied, and tired of B getting bullied, and a summer's growth spurt and maturing was enough to capitalize off of. One uniform could keep us from getting harassed as much, at least in the ways we were pretty tired of by then. And then when we got to be friends in tryouts, being your second in command meant I got to keep you safe, too. That meant a lot to me, for sure." Santana explained, more surprised that Quinn hadn't jumped in to interrupt her once in her mini spiel. "B loved to dance, and I kinda loved it too, so that played a part. And...but my parents worked a lot. I spent a lot of time with my abuela, and by the time high school came around I...well, I had a feeling that my abuela wouldn't like a part of me. And I wasn't sure my family would like that part of me either. I didn't really feel in control of much, but with cheerleading I could control. I had my body, through exercise and dieting. I had a schedule that kept me from home or my abuela's some mornings, evenings, and weekends. I had some power I could use to keep people's focus away from me. I could help control where people looked instead."
"San...I...you don't have to, you know..." Quinn stumbled out, and it was honestly pathetic that they even had to have this little chat, but it was long overdue, and Santana wasn't in the mood for awkwardness.
"I'm gay, yeah. A lesbian. Pretty sure you've known for a while. That was part of why I joined...not to leer, or shit like that, but because I had to be somewhere that I wouldn't feel like if someone looked hard enough, they'd know. I know how lesbians are treated, Q, I wasn't ready for the hate I know my abuela would probably send my way. I'm not ready for that, not yet." Santana clarified, letting out a heavy breath, having finally vocalized that to only the fourth person in her life, now. Well, her mother knew, but her father had told her instead. "Anyway, that's why I joined cheer. B doesn't need my protection so much anymore, you've got an adoring squad again, I can enjoy dancing outside cheer, and I'm honestly over the status. I'm almost ready to just...be free, or whatever. I want this to be my year, Q...that means doing what's right for me."
"So...that's it? You're not coming back to the squad?" Quinn asked, causing Santana to turn her head to look up at the blonde. There was a brief glimmer of sadness there, and as brief as it was, it made Santana's decision for her.
"If you need me, I'll be there. I let you down before...I abandoned you...and I'm not going to do that again. So if you need me, I'm there. But that's not who I am anymore. Cheer's not a goal for me. I'd be coming back for you, Q." Santana insisted, letting each word slip out a little slower than usual in hopes they'd be more easily digested, knowing Q's fucked up head could need a little bit of time.
Quinn let out a heavy sigh. "We're even, after what I did to you." The blonde asserted, and though it was more than appreciated as an admission, it was also uncharacteristic as hell, and definitely a step in the right direction.
Still, it was wrong, and that needed correction. "No, no we're not, Q. You were pregnant, and you needed me, and I wasn't there."
"Yeah, and I told coach and the school that you got a boob job, and you spent most of the year at the bottom of the pyramid and being leered at by Mr. Johansen. I'd say..." Quinn started, and while she had a point, she was wrong, and if Q wanted to know her, she needed to shed light.
"And you got the story wrong, so we're not even." Santana practically growled, biting back at her temper to take a few steadying breaths. Quinn, ever the impatient one, kept testing that already frayed temper by poking her over and over again. "Just fucking give me a second! I've barely told anyone this, okay?"
"And...this...isn't about you being gay?" Quinn asked hesitantly, earning a slight shove, because seriously, they'd already covered that.
Santana shook her head and sighed, deciding to go with the band-aid method, tearing it off in one fell swoop. "It's about the lump I found in my breast at the end of sophomore year."
She was pretty sure she could have heard a pin drop on the shag rug between her bed and her dresser, it was so quiet. Quinn was almost leaning against her, and she couldn't even hear blondie breathe. Still, it was better than outrage, or panic, so she continued on, hoping Q would understand. "You know about my mom, and my aunt. But basically, breast cancer hits just about every woman on my mom's side before we're forty, and a cousin of mine had a lumpectomy in her early twenties, and I'd done all this research about how in your teens, breast tissue's really dense, so it's hard to get accurate test results sometimes, and things can escalate really quickly, and...I've been to too many funerals, Q."
"San, what...did..." Quinn stumbled out, and Santana would have entertained her friend's shambled attempt at saying something were she not already on a roll and feeling tears burn at the edges of her eyes.
"I was fucking terrified, so I had my right breast removed. But that left me with a single tit, and I'm too insecure to handle rocking a uniboob, so I got implants." Santana continued, taking a breath before moving to continue on about how the rest of that summer went, but a pillow repeatedly slamming into her face kind of put a stop to that plan.
"What the hell, Santana! Are you serious?!" Quinn yelled, still wailing away at her with the pillow, which made it less conducive to answering. "You had CANCER! You should have told me!"
Santana managed to finally grab a hold of the pillow, getting a good enough grip to keep Q from attacking her with it again. "What the hell should I have told you?! When?! We weren't on the best of terms, Q!"
"We were still friends, Santana!" Quinn bit back, and Santana could only feel her world falling apart all at once, because there was no way that could be true, at all.
"I gave up the right to claim that when I fucking abandoned you, Quinn!" She blurted out, nerves afire as her brain felt like it was ready to combust. "I was supposed to protect you! I was supposed to be there for you, but I fucking failed you, Quinn! Every...every chance, every time I could have stepped up, I didn't, and I didn't deserve to be there for your birth, so I wasn't, and I didn't deserve to have you with me for surgery, so you weren't!"
"You let me believe you just wanted bigger breasts! I got you demoted, I...I spent the first four weeks of the school year tormenting you!" Quinn yelled, letting out a pained gasp as she sunk back against the headboard. "How the hell am I supposed to live with myself? You had cancer!"
"And you were pregnant! I des...I felt I deserved your anger, Q. I deserved the demotion, as much as I hated it. And I instigated the fight in hopes you'd at least get a real punch off." Santana countered, drawing a horrified expression from her friend. "Yeah, I get it, I'm fucked up, okay? Maybe I fucked up the whole situation, too, but...the point was that I didn't feel I deserved you at my side. I feel I let you down so fucking badly, Q, and I've been trying to make up for that ever since, because what good am I if I can't keep you or B or Rachel safe?"
Santana waited for another bout of yelling, maybe even a slap, but it didn't come. Just Quinn's voice, in a soft whisper. "San, even by my standards, that's messed up. You understand that, right?"
"Yeah...yeah, that picture's been getting clearer lately." Santana admitted with a slow nod. "Berry's been, whether she meant to or not, showing me how I've kind of lost myself over the past while. I already knew what I wasn't, I'm not an idiot...but I wasn't entirely sure who I was. I'm still finding that out, and that's why this year's important. That's why I have to do it right this time. So...if you need me, I'll be there, Q. Not because I owe a debt, I get that now, even if I still feel like I owe you a bit, but because you're kind of a white WASPy sister to me, and I won't lose you, too. Especially not when you're going through serious crap."
"I'm fine, Santana." Quinn insisted, voice entirely void of any sincerity, which only had the blonde's face falling at that revelation. "Okay, maybe things are...complicated."
"You think? Look, for what it's worth, I'm here for you. I've got your back this time." Santana said, unleashing her long withheld puppy-eyed stare at the blonde, knowing it'd been super effective the other two times she'd used it.
Quinn predictably scoffed and gave her a shove, though the slight uptilt of her lips was enough to know she'd won the girl over. "Put those things away, will you? I...fine. Tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" Santana repeated, unsure why today wouldn't work, given they were in her bedroom, alone, with all the time in the world.
"I need to prepare. And...maybe I was thinking you could help me dye my hair, too." Quinn clarified, and alright, a delay would be fine if she got to rework those blonde locks for once.
Santana reached up and ruffled the blonde's well-coiffed mane, still looking as devastatingly fierce as when Q got it cut back in New York. "Alright, but you're ordering in takeout tomorrow for us. In the meantime, though...got any plans for the afternoon?"
"Honestly, can we just watch a movie or something? I'm going to need time to digest the fact you had cancer, and all, and my head feels like it's spinning still." Quinn asked, earning a quick nod from Santana as she got up to grab her laptop across the room.
"Yeah, we can do that, so long as you're not expecting 'Bring It On', again." Santana added with a laugh, quickly setting up her laptop on the bed as she curled up into Q.
"Oh, you love it. But I'm alright with something else. Let's see..." Quinn noted, voice trailing off as she skimmed through Santana's movie collection. Eventually, the blonde settled on, of course, Harry Potter. Quinn, of course, also poked her for sighing at the selection. "No matter how many times you tell me, you can't hate Harry Potter, it's impossible."
"I just think the house system sucks. It stereotypes, most people are traits of all houses...sticking them into one that might fit their biggest traits just helps mask all the oher parts of them that were already ignored. Doesn't help that Gryffindor's clearly set up as the heroes, the Ravenclaws as the cute nerds, Sytherins as the villlains, and the Hufflepuffs as the forgettable ones." Santana ranted, the same rant she'd given the last five times Q had made her watch the films.
"You're just annoyed that you're split between Slytherin and Hufflepuff, both houses that get no love in the movies...but honestly, I'm starting to lean more towards you being a badger, San." Quinn quipped, prompting a smack to the girl's shoulder for teasing her. Honestly, she wasn't fully up on the lore or whatever, anyways, but it just seemed kind of ridiculous to shoehorn people into stuff from a young age. Didn't seem fair or just.
"Eh, just shut up and watch the film, Q." Santana grumbled, resting her head against Quinn's shoulder as her arms wrapped around her friend's bicep. Q was always pretty damn comfy, and she'd gone almost a week since she'd cuddled with anyone. Not that I'm a cuddler, but seriously, sometimes a girl just needs something warm to hold onto. Hot water bottles can't cut it forever.
It was near the end of the movie when Santana noticed her phone vibrating around on her night stand. "Q, can you pass that to me?" She asked, the blonde only nodding and blindly reaching for the phone in question. It took a few attempts, but eventually, Q got a hold of it and handed the device over, just as the dark arts dude started unraveling his purple headgear.
Santana put in her unlock code and checked her texts, spotting two from Rachel.
Some of my campmates accosted me and were terribly transphobic to me and Megan, my roommate, called me slurs, and it was horrible.
I stood my ground and tried to take the high road in educating them, but I don't think it took. Thankfully, the professor interrupted them and warned my roommate not to do it again with the threat of expulsion.
Santana could feel her blood burning away at the walls of her veins as she read. She'd never met this Megan person, never even seen her during her Skype sessions with Rachel, but it simply would not do for her Berry wonderful friend to get harassed, especially like that. She was about to call Rachel when another text came in.
I think I'm okay now, you know I can handle myself, but I could really do with a call later this afternoon when my classes are done? You always know how to cheer me up, and I could really use some cheering up. -R
"...motherfucking goddamn horseshit country bumpkins hasslin' my querida? Not a chance in..." Santana only realized she was muttering when the flat of Quinn's hand lightly hit her up the head.
"Shh! You can't talk during the climax, it's the climax!" Quinn whispered harshly, which okay, she understood movie etiquette, Q-ball didn't need to tell her.
"Best believe I'm vocal during climaxes, blondie." Santana teased, Quinn going still for a brief moment before letting out a harsh scoff and wailing on her with another of her pillows. "Hey, just pulling your chain, Q."
Quinn let out another sign and slumped back against the headboard again. "Well, now that the battle's over, tell me who was on the phone that was so important that you prioritized them over Harry Potter fighting for his mortal life."
"Rachel. Her roommate and some of the people at camp were horrible to her today. She was wondering if I'd call her later." Santana noted, biting her lip as uncertainty filled her, unsure if Quinn would take her side on this or not.
"Were you actually serious about this year being different, San?" Quinn asked plainly, seemingly a bit off topic. Still, it was a valid enough question, so she nodded in answer. "Then be different. You told me to back off of her, which means she's basically your friend. So do right by her. Our friendship's been in shambles for a while now, San. You and Britt have gotten more distant than you used to be. Don't let this one fall apart before it begins...go to her."
Santana's eyes bugged out at the suggestion, particularly at the knowledge that Rachel's camp had actually restricted visiting hours after an incident two days ago. "Go to her...like, drive two hours to a camp that isn't allowing visitors."
"You're crafty, Santana. Figure it out. She asked for a call...but if I know Rachel, I think she'd really want a hug right about now." Quinn stated, a hint of a smile on her lips.
"I want to, it's just...we're hanging out. Our friendship's important, too, Q. I won't abandon you again." Santana let out, just barely ducking in time to dodge another pillow attack.
"Stop being such a drama queen, I'll be okay. I told you I need to get ready for tomorrow...I can do that on my own, I promise." Quinn noted, perhaps a little condescendingly there at the end, but still. Quinn had lasted this long, and seemed a bit relieved to hear she wasn't alone in feeling out of place and lost. A few hours away probably wouldn't hurt.
"I'll call you when I get there, and when I get back." Santana insisted, drawing a laugh from the blonde.
"Yes, mother." Quinn snarked, turning the tables on Santana with a old, mean jab she used to target Q with sometimes when she was feeling defensive or hurt.
Even the shame of the reminder was overwhelmed by how amused Quinn looked, though, so she just swatted at her friend. "Don't be an ass, Q. For that, I'm eating all the ice cream I have left tonight, so there won't be any left for you when you come by tomorrow." Santana shot back at her grinning friend, shaking her head when that smile didn't crack. "Maybe I'll leave a scoop or two, whatever."
"I think I could get used to this new Santana." Quinn said with a laugh, before pressing her lips to Santana's cheeks and leaving the bed. "Tomorrow, two o'clock, chinese?"
Santana smiled and lazily waved at the blonde. "Sounds good to me. I'll call you later, Q." She called back, waving Quinn off as the blonde left her room and headed downstairs, duffel bag in tow.
At that, Santana closed her laptop and got up to get ready for a little adventure.
Rachel wasn't sure how long she'd been curled up in bed when her roommates returned, two pairs of feet making themselves known in the room, much like the summer heat soon would given they hadn't closed the door behind them, but it was thankfully a long enough time for most of her emotions to have been processed and expressed. Skipping dinner had been a necessary sacrifice, even if her rumbling stomach protested.
After all, if Megan was anything like how she performed, Rachel was fairly sure the girl's relentless belief in her own superiority would eventually rear its head, threat of expulsion or no. And Rachel knew that it'd be best to be able to deal with someone like that again with a cool head.
Of course, she'd prefer not to have to deal with transphobia at all, but she was more than ready to handle another dose, now.
"Didn't see you in the dining hall, Berry. Not hungry?" She heard Megan ask with a fair bit of annoyance and hostility in her voice. It wasn't surprising that her roommate continued where she left off earlier, even if it was subtler. "Gotta keep that slim figure so you can almost be convincing enough, I'm sure."
"Come on, Megan, leave her alone. I heard what you did in class...if one of the staff hears..." Rachel heard Hannah begin weakly, which was appreciated, thought it was unsurprising that her other roommate was swiftly cut off.
"And who would she hear it from? It's just us three." Megan bit back venomously, apparently cowing Hannah into silence. Which, sadly made sense; if the other girl was used to working the school social ladder, Rachel imagined it involved a lot of ass-kissing and self-censorship to those perceived above them. Not that Megan wasn't the epitome of gutter trash when it came to morals and ethics and her world view. "I'm sure you won't have anything to say. And Berry...well, I'm sure the two of us can come to an arrangement, can't we, Man Hands?"
Rachel heard Megan's feet hit the ladder leading up to her bunk and sat up in her bed, peering down at her antagonist. "You'd do well to remember what I told you earlier, and that Chris and the rest of the staff here most certainly back me up. I'd even be willing to run a quick educational course, if sheer ignorance has made you so hostile to trans people."
"No, see, I was thinking I'd take a little look at what's going on with you under the hood, and then we could figure out a fair way to handle it. After all, it's not right for us actual girls..." Megan began, before the clearing of a throat drew both of their attention toward the door, Rachel's heart immediately jumping into her throat at the sight of Santana, Chris, and a campus security guard.
"Miss Pelech, a word?" Chris more demanded than asked, arms crossed across his chest, clearly not impressed that his very lenient warnings hadn't been heeded.
When Megan remained still at her ladder, Santana stepped forward, hip cocked and arms crossed, clearly unimpressed. "Hey Skeletor, hows about 'chu step off my girl like the man asked...or is Snixx gonna have to plump up those Amy Schumer lips real nice for ya?"
"Santana..." Chris let out with a sigh. "Miss Pelech, right now would be best."
Rachel watched Megan's expression sink for a moment before it hardened and the girl turned her gaze fully on her. "You all realize she's packing something extra, right?"
"For Christ's sake, Megan..." Hannah let out in a frustrated huff just as Santana started up.
"A killer body and more talent in her pinky finger than your pasty ass, that's for sure." Santana shot back in her defense, and while it wasn't necessary, and she didn't appreciate the body shaming, it did feel good to hear her friend having her back on this.
"Miss Lopez, you're only still on campus out of the goodness of my heart. Behave." Chris noted calmly, but firmly, before returning his focus to Megan again. "Miss Pelech, I won't ask you again. Do I need to have security escort you outside?"
Megan slunk off the ladder and trudged her way out of the dorm room, Chris following her immediately, and the security guard as well after offering Santana a silent nod. And not that she wasn't thrilled to see Santana, but she didn't understand how her friend had managed such an escort in the process.
"Now, I don't know which roommate you are, but I've got an hour until security kicks me out for curfew, so you'll have to wait in line 'til then if you wanna deal with Rachel." Santana stated with her trademark snark and clacking heels as she walked deeper into the dorm and stopped at Rachel's ladder, looking directly up at her with a soft, excited smile. "Hey there, mi querida."
"You came." Rachel mumbled, biting down onto her lip with anticipation, unsure if she could hop down there and hug Santana, or wait for the girl to come up to her. "How did you get in? Visiting hours are for weekends only these days."
Santana just shrugged. "It's my birthday, and I wanted to spend it with my favourite girl who, last I heard, had a hard day." Santana halfway explained, though Rachel knew the security, and knew such a simple request, no matter how well-intentioned, would not fly. Not after the string of incidents early on in camp with attendees abusing visiting privileges. Rachel cocked an eyebrow at her friend, drawing a low sigh from San. "Okay, and maybe I'd spent ten minutes reaming out security when that Chris dude came around and caught me mid-rant. Nice dude, really, he bent the rules to let me in."
Rachel just beamed at that, wishing a little bit that she'd witnessed Santana going off on security. It was a little flattering to know San had driven two hours out of her way and pushed so hard just to see her. "Chris is probably my favourite prof at camp, after today." She noted as she rested her hands on the ladder, hoping Santana would take the hint, though she wasn't really willing to leave that to chance. "Now, why don't you come up and tell me all about it?"
"So...wait." Hannah interjected as Santana placed a hand on one of the ladder rungs, stilling her friend in place for the moment as Santana sent a minor glare the girl's way. "You and Berry are...legit? Like, you two..."
Rachel could practically see Santana freezing up, and piped up to take control of the situation. "Our relationship is, honestly, our business alone. When you had that boy over midway through last week, you asked me to stay out of it." Rachel stated, hoping she didn't need to spell it out to Hannah that she expected the same respect that she'd provided the girl days ago.
"Yeah...Rachel's been stuck at this camp, and while texting and calling and Skyping's great and all, it's not THAT great. So if you don't mind, we'd like some private time." Santana added, pushing through a moment of initial hesitation to utilize that familiar confident snark.
"Right, sorry. Well, um...I'll be in my bunk." Hannah mumbled, before settling into the bed beneath Rachel's, which certainly gave the girl prime listening opportunities. Which, in turn, complicated Santana's visit a little bit.
Still, Santana gamely made her way up to Rachel's bunk and guided them both down onto the mattress, side by side, face to face. "Best birthday ever, Tink." Santana spoke warmly, perhaps a little louder than necessary, which clued Rachel into the acting opportunity thrust upon them for the moment, and that maybe it wasn't Santana's birthday after all. Because really, they were close enough friends for her to have been given some advance notice, Rachel figured. Santana seemed the type to prefer gifts.
She could see Santana coiled up at her side, mere inches away, waiting for permission. Which was granted as Rachel pulled Santana closer, more than happy to cuddle and embrace the girl, burying her face in San's neck and taking comfort in her familiar scent.
"So, if she thinks we're...well, you know...how do you want to handle this?" Santana whispered in her ear, Rachel feeling the girl's legs entwining with her own. Despite the odd situation, she couldn't help but smile at how safe Santana made her feel.
"I'm not sure, I haven't done anything like this before. I'm sorry for pulling you into this, I know...I know we talked about discussing what's between us when I get back, and I think it'd be best to leave that talk for then, but...for now..." Rachel rambled quietly, knowing exactly what her body wanted, and what her heart wanted, conflicted with what was probably the smart play. "For now, maybe we just enjoy being close? I kind of need you close."
Santana just leaned back enough to touch their foreheads together, smiling brightly and looking so relaxed and happy with her eyes closed. "I'm definitely up for that. And you don't have to thank me for coming here, mi estrella. I know you can handle yourself, Rachel, but I'm always up for keeping you company and keeping you safe. Gots ta keep my Tink happy."
Rachel let out a giggle at Santana's atrocious slang. "I can't believe you dipped into your Lima Heights Adjacent-speak earlier. You're so ridiculous, you know?" She noted with a grin, leaning ever so slightly forward to press a kiss to Santana's cheek to show her appreciation. "I'm just happy Hannah saw you come to my defense. She's been bugging me about the idea that you're just using me, no matter what I've told her, so maybe she'll back off, now."
That, apparently, was enough for Santana's eyes to snap open, a clear challenge swirling around in those wonderfully deep arrays of brown. Rachel could practically see the cogs in Santana's brain spinning wildly, jaw setting in clear annoyance for a moment before the girl's expression evened out into a tiny, devious smile.
Santana's nose nuzzled up her cheek as the girl's body writhed beside her, coming much more into contact with her duvet than her body, but it certainly made it sound as if something active was going on with them. It was a little predictable, and maybe she rolled her eyes, but she was hardly about to complain about Santana putting on a play about being attracted to her. Especially knowing the reality that Santana WAS attracted to her.
"God, I've waited so long just to feel you, Rach." Santana practically moaned, and the dramatics were a little too much for her not to at least giggle at. Because while the ten days apart had truly been difficult to manage, she hadn't quite reached such a point of desperation where she needed to be so vocal about it. Though, perhaps she pulled Santana closer so that writhing body could at least make contact with her own; after all, Santana's act was a tiny bit alluring even if it was ridiculous. "Hey, don't laugh, I'm a physical person, I needs my hand on some curve often enough or I get all mopey."
Rachel just laughed harder and pressed a kiss to Santana's nose. "You're ridiculous, you know that? How have you managed this long? You always seemed happy enough on Skype."
"Well, afterwards, usually I put on one of your top performances...'Don't Rain on My Parade' is a classic...I'll set up in bed, close my eyes, and think of you as I slooooowly drift my hand down..." Santana started with a teasing smile, and it was all Rachel could do to just smack Santana's shoulder and drown out her words with laughter.
"Oh, stop it! We're not alone, you can't just say those things!" Rachel chided her between laughs, but judging by Santana's cheeky grin, her friend wasn't feeling the least bit guilty. "So, are you a happy birthday girl, tonight?"
Santana's hum in the affirmative was all the answer she needed from that as Santana burrowed closer to her, the girl lifting Rachel's nearest hand to her lips for a soft kiss. Maybe it had her blushing, just maybe. "Wish you weren't stuck in this camp, so I could take you out."
"Usually it's the birthday girl who gets ferried around to a nice dinner." Rachel contested lightly, wondering what Santana was getting at.
"Well, I operate on the logic of 'It's my party and I'll cry if I want to'. So if I want to take my girl out to go swimming, maybe have a romantic lakeside dinner, I would. But you're stuck here." Santana explained, and alright, that all sounded quite wonderful, but it only took a moment or two for her to clue in to the motives behind it all.
"It gets cold by the water at night." Rachel said, putting that basic fact out there and earning an amused hum in response, which only had her smiling with her minor deductive victory. "You'd expect me to keep you warm, wouldn't you?"
Santana just laughed and snuggled closer. "Uh, duh, I'm the birthday girl. Keep up, Tink."
"And what if I get cold?" Rachel asked, burying her face in Santana's hair and grazing a calf up Santana's mostly bare shorts-clad legs.
"Nothin' a little macking or cuddling can't fix. You know I've got your back." Santana murmured before stilling entirely. "Wait, nope, not yet I don't." The girl added before rolling Rachel onto her side and spooning her from behind, a rather comfy position she was hardly about to contest, even if it meant not being able to look her closest friend in the eyes. Simply put, having Santana's arms around her felt a little too wonderful to oppose.
"I missed you, San." She let out, not able to keep the words in any longer. Rachel knew it went against the playful mood Santana had fostered between them, but it was something that had been bubbling around inside of her since she saw Santana in the doorway, and she had to set those words free.
"Awww, I missed my BooBerry, too!" Santana giggled, punctuating her words with a sloppy kiss to her temple, but even that didn't calm her racing heart from the fact that Santana had made her declaration rather audibly. In particular, the pet name.
"That's such a ridiculous nickname, and you know it! Can't I finally have another one?" Rachel pleaded with a well-deserved huff.
Santana, of course, let out a sharp gasp, as if she'd been hurt. Of course. "You really don't wanna be my boo? It's a cute pet name."
"BooBerry isn't a cute pet name, it's a cereal, Santana." She asserted, feeling blood rush to her cheeks at the hardly muffled laughter from the bunk beneath her. Just great. Enduring the next four days of Hannah teasing her over that wouldn't be annoying at all.
"Hey, boo is, like, a form of 'beau', which means beautiful, and it's used to refer to people's girlfriends, their baes, the people they adore and shit." Santana clearly tried to justify her use of the term, but it was hard to take her seriously when the girl was on the verge of hysterical laughter.
"I would readily accept less embarrassing terms like sweetheart, or babe, or those lovely Spanish words, or god forbid my first name or a shortened version of it popping up more often instead." Rachel insisted, drawing another laugh from Santana, who clearly found the whole ordeal endlessly amusing. If she had a time machine, she most certainly would have gone back to that day at her house and hid her father's cereal stash away.
"Where's the fun in that? Would 'shorty' suffice?" Santana asked, body shaking with barely restrained laughter, knowing full well that it most certainly wouldn't suffice. Apparently, given another round of muffled laughter beneath her, Hannah knew as much and was definitely on Santana's side in this.
"I'm not that short! I'm five foot two, which is technically in the bottom quarter of the five foot range, and perhaps a few inches shorter than the average, but certainly not an outlier." Rachel ranted, even if she knew that Santana knew her stance on matters of height, and was just teasing her a little bit. It was hard sometimes to keep from letting out some of that frustration at times, given how long she'd been teased over it.
"Pshh, never. But you're cute when you use all those words of yours, and you're cute because you're short, and I wouldn't change either part of you if I could." Santana spoke softly, offering a reassuring smile that let her know that the girl might have clued in to the fact that she hadn't entirely been playing with the rant about her height. That maybe this was the full truth from Santana, as well.
"I thought my rambling annoyed you, though." Rachel mumbled, biting her lip as she tightened Santana's arms around her midsection, as if the physical security San could offer could dissipate her insecurities.
"Eh, it used to, sometimes, but most of the time I'd just be stuck staring at your lips." Santana admitted, forcing Rachel's eyebrows to her hairline in surprise.
"Santana!" She stage-whispered, unsure if that train of discussion would be appropriate, given their respective positions, and the amount of time left together, and the fact that they'd decided to put talks off until after camp.
"Hey, you can't blame me. Your lips are perfect, that's all I'm saying, here." Santana shot back with a laugh, nose trailing gently up Rachel's neck and casting her whole body in goosebumps in the process.
"You...you did not stare at my lips all the time." Rachel contested, because it just didn't seem possible. She would have noticed that, surely. Perhaps she wasn't always the most aware, but certainly she would have noticed that.
"Boo, every day in Glee, I'd watch you for a bit. I know you'd never look my way aside from a passing glance, or maybe a glare while we were in the risers. But when we'd get up to perform and let loose...and you'd be laughing and singing and dancing your heart out...sometimes you'd look my way. And I'd always make sure I was smiling at you, because it was the only way I knew to get one from you. So yeah, I would stare at your lips all the time." Santana's words left Rachel silent, unsure how to respond, so she turned in her friend's arms until they were face to face, only seeing honesty in those deep mocha eyes.
Not that it all sounded farfetched; Rachel would often meet Santana's smile with her own during those moments in Glee, happy to see the usually gruff and surly cheerleader happier and enjoying herself. It was a big reason why she'd believed in Santana at sectionals in sophomore year, the girl always seemed happy and free while dancing and singing with everyone, as if she'd let go of all the status and popularity, and just let herself be.
And that freedom had always looked good on Santana, so Rachel ducked her head and nodded against her friend. "I can't stop smiling now whenever I see you, even if I'm just thinking of you, so you don't need to worry about that anymore."
A soft press of lips to her neck accompanied Santana curling up closer to her, rolling Rachel onto her back as San settled in halfway on top of her, hand rising to clutch lightly at her neckline.
"Hey, you're not allowed to fall asleep, it's your birthday." She teased with a grin, poking at one of Santana's particularly ticklish spots, causing the girl to squirm a bit.
"I was born around seven at night, it can carry into tomorrow." Santana asserted tiredly, yawning into Rachel's collarbone as Rachel fought off laughter.
"It doesn't work that way, you goofball. And how am I supposed to have fun with you, if you're so set on snoozing?" She asked, angling her head up to kiss the crown of Santana's head.
"Not my fault you're the coziest human-slash-furnace cyborg in the world. Lying next to you gives me a better shot at stayin' awake than if you were draped over me like a blanket. You know, I think I'd be done for, then." Santana rambled in sloppy, sleepy syllables, cheek nuzzling against her collarbone as a leg draped over both of Rachel's.
"I'll keep that in mind." Rachel shot back with a grin, eyes rolling at Santana's dramatics. And here I thought I was the diva between us both. "Well, since you're trying to stay awake, tell me, how are Brittany and Quinn doing?"
"Britt's off being a tourist, I'm sure she's having Fun. Lucy Q's a different story...she's having a hard time, but we're working through it. She's coming over tomorrow so she can tell me what's going on. On the plus side, I get to dye her hair." Santana answered with a happy hum, nestling impossibly closer, as if she could absorb Rachel's body heat.
The simple notion of Quinn dyeing her hair had Rachel's eyes practically popping out of her head. It seemed absolutely impossible for the queen bee of the Cheerios to give up on her signature blonde locks, even for a brief moment. Still, that Quinn trusted Santana enough to be that vulnerable was huge, even she could see that.
"I'm glad you're there for her, and that she's letting you in. That's really great, San." Rachel said, running a free hand up and down San's back, just happy to have her friend close. It'd been such a ridiculous day, so to have even a moment with Santana was a gift. To have until curfew with her was a blessing.
"Mmhmm, I'm sorta anxious, but I think it'll be good, tomorrow. Either way, I know when dinner time comes around, my dad's going to have another vegan recipe ready to try out. It's the worst, Rach. The worst." Santana noted with a groan, which was almost a little insulting until she remembered Santana liked her fathers' burgers last time.
"Let me guess, he's experimenting." Rachel offered, earning a pitiful moan from the girl on top of her, who lightly beat her fist against the mattress in protest.
"He wants you to come over for dinner, and he won't stop pestering me about it, not like I can do anything about that with you here, you know? But every night he's been home for the past week, it's been vegan experiments. Like...it's been mediocre once, and the rest...terrible. Hellish. Dios mio, mi querida, I spent one evening hovering over a toilet! He refuses to look up actual recipes, and just insists on improvising." Santana complained with such sad devastation, which Rachel could maybe find merit in. Some materials in vegan recipes were tricky and required a deft touch and a firm understanding. Improvising seemed to be too stubborn of an approach for her to think it'd be successful.
"Poor baby. Your life must be so difficult." Rachel teased, pressing her lips to Santana's crown as her friend let out a heavy sigh.
"It really is. You gotta stop him, he won't listen to me. Please, babe, he'll listen to you. Rachel, please." Santana pleaded, an unexpected turn of events that had laughter bubbling out of her. "Hey, you gotta be nice to me, I'm having you over for dinner! I'm looking after our health!"
Rachel just held onto her favourite girl and let herself laugh at Santana's ridiculous predicament. How bad could her father's experiments be for San to be so full of woe, after all?
"Okay, okay, I'll call him after you leave. To appease his pride, I'll volunteer a dish I love, and offer to prepare it with you both. Make it sound important to me that we do this all together, okay?" Rachel offered in appeasement, drawing an immediate nod against her neck.
"God, if it means I'll be able to eat something edible, let alone tasty, yeah I'll help. You're a life saver, Rach." Santana cooed, giving her a squeeze and planting a gentle kiss to her shoulder. "You know, when dinner's over, there's always that hammock in my back yard we can hang out in."
Rachel almost managed to get a few words out before the realization struck her. "Hammock. Hang out. Baby, you used a pun."
"Noooooooooo nonononono..." Santana let out frantically, trying to unlatch herself and move away, but Rachel held firm, cackling at Santana's sheer hatred of puns. "I'll never join the dark side! You'll never turn me!"
"Only sith deal in absolutes, Santana." Rachel teased, earning another agonized groan from the girl atop her, who eventually slumped down against her in defeat.
"Ugh. For that, I'm passing along Britt's request that you record Lord Tubbington a lullaby for his birthday, purely in a cat voice." Santana grumbled, sending Rachel's brain for a loop as to why Brittany would ask her of all people, or why it had to be in cat sounds.
It took a few moments to wrap her head around the request, honestly. "I...suppose I could try, since it's his birthday...I guess."
"Cool. Now, enough about my side of shit, tell me about the non-crap parts of your day so far." Santana requested, which after a difficult day with a few considerable lows, it'd be nice to safely discuss the highs.
And so she spoke, admittedly rambling on about her leaps and bounds of progress in dance class during her latest trial run for her performance, how she'd absolutely nailed her solo on top of taking interesting creative turns in her assigned duet project. Santana was responsive to every sentence, every burst of enthusiasm met with words of encouragement, or a gentle squeeze, or a happy hum, or a kiss to her shoulder. Always listening, and even when she spoke at mach speed, the girl managed to parrot back an accomplishment or point or happy moment and express her happiness at Rachel's joy.
She'd never really had anyone who could keep up, who was happy to listen. She hadn't even been trying to slow herself down, or limit her vocabulary, or anything of the sort like she had with Finn and Jesse.
I already trust her...I guess I didn't realize how much, but...she's honestly rewarding it... Rachel mused to herself, just finishing her tale from her theater workshop when Santana's phone's alarm went off.
"Ugh, five minutes left, Tink. Guess we should make it count, or whatever." Santana mumbled, her words not quite matching her actions, what with Santana just holding on tighter, cheek resting atop her shoulder.
Feeling a little needy, not wanting their time to run out quite yet, Rachel pushed for a bit more of the wonderful normalcy she'd been enjoying. "So tell me, birthday girl, did you want to do anything special for your big day?"
"Mmmmmnope. Just wanted you." Santana answered in a tired mumble, an answer that had Rachel blushing against her will, given the potential innuendo.
"You...Santana." Rachel stammered out, feeling hopeful, and confused, and concerned, and relieved all at the same time, which was all a bit tumultuous for her liking.
"Easy, not like that. Just like this. I wanted to be with you, that's all." Santana clarified, which honestly warmed her heart. Sure, she knew Santana likely drove two hours to make sure she was okay and safe and comforted, but that San was so content just existing with her, sharing space with her, that was huge.
"It isn't really your birthday, though, is it?" Rachel whispered, earning a slight shake of the head, Santana's nose tickling the tender skin of her neck.
"Nope, it was a few months back, but it doesn't change my answer for what I wanted to do today. Just so you know. It was just an easy way to get in to see you. Say I hadn't heard about the change in policy, complain about driving two hours on my birthday to see my girl...they were putty in my hands. Well, Chris was. The guards, not so much." Santana noted quietly before sluggishly lifting up off of her. "Guess I gotta get moving."
Rachel felt her lower lip quivering at the loss of Santana's comfortable weight, at the sadness in her best friend's eyes. She wanted to reach out for San's hand and hold tight, but she knew Santana would have to leave. Suddenly, the next four days felt like forever.
"I suppose so. I'll see you out, okay?" Rachel asked, earning a solemn nod from Santana, who was the first down the ladder.
She followed her best friend to the door and stepped within a foot or three of Santana's space when the girl stopped, hand on the handle. Gently, she prodded at San's shoulders, turning her around, revealing a girl who was trying not to look nervous or sad, but was failing by Rachel's metrics. Right...Hannah thinks we're girlfriends, and...and if we do anything actually visible, actually explicitly romantic...then Santana will have come out for the first time. For me this would just be acting, I don't care about that particular closet, but for her...
It was suddenly as if the air had gotten tremendously thicker as that realization sunk in, her eyes darting up to meet Santana's in silent question. Santana bit her lip, teeth rolling across the slightly swollen flesh before a flash of determination shone across those deep brown eyes. She'd only rarely seen Santana nervous, but never like this, never both stiff and quivering from worry, even as those beautiful eyes shone with courage.
Santana had never been more beautiful, Rachel was certain of that.
At her nod, Rachel took the girl's hand and tugged her closer, forcing them to be up close and personal. "Come here, you big goofball." Rachel cooed, reaching up with her other hand to tuck a few locks of hair behind Santana's ear, before going up on her tippy toes to press a chaste kiss to her fiercely beautiful girl's lips, pressing in just enough for San to reciprocate. To make it real, because even if they weren't together, even if they still had a long talk ahead of them, and issues to work through, in that moment, Santana was with her. She was kissing her. The tremble in that beautiful lower lip was from her. The yearning in how Santana's entire body pressed into hers was from her.
In all other moments, it was different, but in that span between heartbeats, chest to chest, lips meeting with such simple tenderness, Santana was hers.
She could feel her heart wrench as she leaned back out of it, knowing that moment was gone, but the feel of Santana's arms wrapping around her waist, keeping her close, nose nuzzling against hers, San's hitched breath as much of a vocalized plea as the girl seemed to be able to muster, it all had Rachel thinking that maybe she really did have a girl waiting for her back home.
And as scary and overwhelming as that felt, it was Santana. And so when she tilted her head forward to capture her best friend's lips again in another chaste kiss, she let herself cling to the girl's shoulder, she let herself squeeze the hand she was holding, she let herself pour her passion and the serenity San gave her back into the kiss, hoping Santana would feel it. That she would understand.
"I'll be home in a few days." Rachel whispered, once she remembered that curfew was either coming up or had recently passed. When she opened her eyes, she couldn't help but lift her hand to catch the stray tear rolling down San's cheek, though the girl just stared wondrously at her, as if she hadn't noticed. "I'll miss you."
Those three words seemed to break Santana from her stupor, her best friend letting go of her hand to wrap her in a tight hug. "I'll miss my BooBerry, too." Santana practically announced, though the clear attempt at distraction wasn't enough to make the wetness of her voice any less emotional.
Still, the whole ordeal had her letting out her own wet laugh as she melted into Santana's embrace. "Stop calling me that." She demanded weakly, knowing it would never grow on her, but that it was a part of something special now, like it or not.
"It got you smiling and laughing. Didn't have the heart to leave you feeling sad." Santana noted sadly, and while it was definitely true for her, Rachel's gut had her feeling Santana also needed to smile and laugh to cover up her other less secure emotions.
Before Rachel could respond, Santana stepped away and pulled a folded piece of paper from her pocket, hesitantly handing it to Rachel. "Read it as I say goodbye?"
Rachel could only nod at the request, though when she unfolded it, she couldn't help but laugh at the sight of actual cat sound lyrics, penned by Brittany S Pierce herself.
Her bout of laughter was apparently distraction enough for Santana to step closer, pressing a tender kiss to her temple as laugh after laugh bubbled out of her. "Goodnight, Rachel."
And with that, Santana backed away towards the doorway, head tilted down and biting her lip, but thankfully more than attentive enough to catch the kiss Rachel managed to blow her way through her laughter. With a thoroughly warmed heart, and entirely full of pride for Santana's courage, she watched her best friend head out, waiting at the doorway until she was out of sight.
The sigh that escaped her couldn't possibly capture the magnitude of what she was feeling, especially since she herself wasn't entirely sure of everything she was feeling, but it at the very least provided some relief. At least, until she turned around and remembered that Hannah was there, and likely had been watching the whole time.
Rachel pocketed Brittany's lyrics, shaking her head at their absurdity, and headed back towards her bed, wanting to get a hold of San's dad about dinner plans, and maybe to bask in the joy of the last hour via some well-curated music.
She had a foot on the first rung of the ladder when she heard Hannah call out to her quietly. "Rachel?"
Cautiously, she spared a glance into the dimly lit lower bunk, quickly finding her roommate. The same one who had been doubting Santana this whole time. "Yes?" She asked, perhaps letting a little of the tension built up over the past week into that single word.
"You two...you're pretty cute together." Hannah admitted with a small smile, honestly stunning Rachel with the admission.
She'd expected another series of doubts, of claims that Santana would take advantage of her. Not Hannah telling her they were cute. Rachel was sure that Santana would bristle at the description.
"Thank you. Santana's a little intense, but she's kind of amazing." Rachel stated, suddenly unsure how to talk about Santana with her roommate, now that her best friend had apparently won Hannah's approval.
"You're both kind of crazy, but you just...you seem to fit. I'm sorry I doubted you." Her roommate noted, the apology more than what she'd honestly expected.
"I appreciate that, Hannah." She said in return. Figuring their little conversation was about over, Rachel took another step up her ladder, only to be interrupted by the quick words of her roommate again.
"How do you usually ask other girls out?" The question felt like a blitz attack in how quickly it came out, and how utterly unexpected it was. Hannah could apparently sense her confusion, as words kept spilling out of her. "You see, you were so fucking smooth back there, and you're both so cute, and my boyfriend broke up with e two days ago, and there's this girl from my chem class that I've been crushing on for months, and I...I've never asked a girl out before."
Rachel descended the ladder and plopped herself down beside her halfway frantic roommate. "Do you know if she's interested in women, too?"
Hannah nodded fervently. "Yeah, she's out. It's just...we run in different circles. She's kind of a nerd with her debate and STEM clubs, and I'm...well, I've been climbing the social ladder, and I'm on the soccer team."
The contrast was interesting enough, certainly more pronounced and her and Santana's. "I'm no love guru, Hannah, but it's not a complicated process. Eventually, you have to be direct and talk to her. Maybe leave her a note in her locker, to meet somewhere comfortable and neutral for her?"
"Oh, man, I can't..." Hannah let out, cringing pretty hard at whatever was floating through her mind. "I don't think I could handle one on one, I'd be too nervous. How would I even talk to her, what would I say?"
Rachel shrugged. "Well, I like jokes or an impromptu song as an ice-breaker, but I know that doesn't work for everyone. Santana hates my puns, for instance. But if you like this girl...and you know her interests well enough...just show interest in her. Show that you want to get to know her, be open and genuine. I'm sure if she sees you're legitimately interested in her, then you'll have better odds."
Hannah nodded along and let out a heavy sigh. "Like, I've told people I'm bi, you know? But I think they might not believe me until they see it, which maybe means I'll be coming out again, in a way. And that's...how'd you handle it?"
Rachel couldn't help the laugh that escaped her. "I...we haven't. Today...that was it for us. We'd never been public before." Rachel admitted, feeling she could at least trust Hannah to a fair extent, given everything. "I'm not out at school, neither is she. It took a lot of courage for her to come see me today, and do what she did openly. I grew up with gay fathers, so the closet's never really been anything I could truly take much comfort in regarding my bisexuality, but her family's a lot more religious. Our school is very openly homophobic to the point where a friend of mine had to leave because of violence and death threats. She has people she wants to protect, and being out could affect that. But she fought her nerves, and she may have needed some distractions, and she may have been a little awkward, but I didn't care, because she cares about me. She likes me, and I like her, and so those nerves don't matter. I truly believe this girl won't mind if you stumble around a bit. Being visibly out could change things for you...but if she's worth it, she's worth it."
Hannah held her gaze for a long few seconds before letting out a relieved breath. "Strange pep talk, but...I kinda feel like maybe I could do this. I'm...I'm pretty sure she likes coffee. I had her number from a group project last year...do you think asking her out for a coffee could work?"
Rachel smiled at the enthusiasm shining in Hannah's eyes, happy to see someone else basking in the potential of something more. "I think that could be a good plan." She stated, nudging shoulders with her roommate before shifting off the bed. "Anyway, I have a phone call to make. Let me know if you need anything, though, alright?"
At Hannah's nod, Rachel went back up to her bed and settled into her duvet, feeling more comforted than usual by the thought of it being from Santana. Not wanting to waste any time, she picked up her phone and looked through her contact list.
She could, at the very least, free Santana from her father's experiments once and for all, so that her best friend could have something to be happy and hopeful about when she returned home.
She wanted Santana to fall asleep with a smile on her face, like Rachel knew she personally would. Maybe a few more days wouldn't be so long with her memories to keep her company.
A/N: Okay, so this took some editing and a bit of reworking, but it's finally out! Yay! And on my 4th anniversary of writing fan fiction!
I hope you all enjoyed this one, it was a bit front loaded with heaviness, with a fluffy tail end to hopefully make up for any sadness.
Anywho, thanks for reading! And thanks for a great four years :D