'Showtime, Lopez' she said winking at herself on the mirror. She was wearing a white sundress and her naturally wavy dark hair was falling on her shoulders. To say she wasn't the epitome of breathtaking was clearly a big mistake.
She ran downstairs and opened the front door 'Hey, you' she said.
Is she… smiling at me? Sam asked to himself. 'Miss Lopez' he said, smiling like an idiot. Come on dude, that's the best you could come with? 'You look really, but really pretty today' Yeah, better.
Santana chuckled. 'I know. Come on in'
Sam followed her upstairs, quietly. Damn, she's pretty. Wait, am I at Santana freaking Lopez' room? Last time I checked I was at the main entrance of the Lopez household and now I'm in a white and purple bedroom full of cheerleading stuff, family and friends' pictures, a kickass LCD and a huge… HUGE bed. With Santana Lopez. Home alone. With Santana. In her room. With Santana. Sam started hyperventilate.
'Evans, are you okay?' Santana asked, raising an eyebrow and rubbing his back. He was looking a little too pale.
'Oh, yeah, totally. Like… pshhh! Great!' Sam answered, shaking his head.
Santana couldn't help but to smile back at his goofy grin. He's seriously like a puppy. This is going to be so easy.
'Hmm, yeah. So, history' Sam started but Santana interrupted him 'Hey, Evans?' She was trying to sound cool. 'Do you still wanna go to that Homecoming thing?'
'Do you?' he asked.
'Maybe. It depends'
'Depends on what?'
'If you still want me to go with you' she said looking at him flirtatiously.
Sam stood up in front of her. Santana was barefoot so she looked tinier than she usually looked next to him. 'Santana, want to come with me to Homecoming?'
The Cheerio smirked and sighed loudly 'Well, if you insist…'
Sam laughed and wrapped his arms around her 'The third time's the charm'
'That's what people say' Santana answered and pulled back slowly. He was smiling. It's now or never, Lopez she thought while leaning closer to him and pressing her lips against his softly. The blonde football player in front of her melted against her kiss, holding her tight and cupping her face with his right hand. The kiss was sweet and unusually slow on Santana's eyes, no lust, no anger, it was like he was enjoying every second just kissing her. I'm doing this just because I want Quinn to suffer and to cry blood tears. But when her mind shut down for a split second and she let her tongue to trace his lower lip she knew that a tiny part of her wanted to do this for other reason.
Santana Lopez wanted to matter.