Rachel's father went inside. We didn't really have to tell him to, he just knew. After the show Rachel and I barely spoke, the car ride home was silent and I guess he figured we had to talk about something. I guess we really did have to talk, I just didn't know how to start. Luckily Rachel started for me.

"So you have a problem with my dads." It was more of a statement than anything. I looked up at Rachel and shook my head no. She didn't get it. This wasn't really about him, or her other dad, this is about me.

"No I think your dad is great. He's the coolest; I bet your other dad is just as awesome-."

"Well then what is it? After I told you about them you just shut down. I'm your friend, but I can't be friend with a homophobe." I was hurt that she could ever think that about me. I pressed my back against the Berry car and crossed my arms over my chest. "Look we're nice people; just because they're gay that doesn't change them as people." Couldn't she see that I didn't care about that stuff? She was trying to convince me that they weren't some taboo family, but that's not what was on my mind.

"I just said I think your family is great." I repeated. I don't know why my voice sounded so small right now. Maybe it was because I was put in this position. I had to defend my moral standards.

"Well then what freaked you out so much?" Rachel questioned putting her hands on her hips. This was her fault for pushing me. She should have just shut up and let it go.

"I'm not freaked out! I'm fucking jealous okay!" I couldn't be in here. Not in this garage, there wasn't enough space and there were too many things that I could hit. Including Rachel. I walked outside out into their driveway and shoved my hands into my pockets. That was the only way I could think of protecting Rachel from my anger.

"What do you mean?" She questioned, placing her hand gently on my shoulder. I brushed her off and moved further away.

"Can you please leave me alone?" If I actually wanted her to leave me alone I could've just walked inside my house. Right now that was the last place I wanted to be. After spending time with Mr. Berry, looking at my father would be miserable.

"Why would you be jealous?"

"You've got two dads, and I barely fucking have one." I said bitterly. I sighed loudly and looked up at the stars. Life could sometimes be so wretched. "I'm not going back home…could we just stay out here for awhile?" Rachel nodded. We walked over to her front porch and sat down side by side. We didn't speak for awhile, but I noticed the Goosebumps on Rachel's shoulder. I unbuttoned my shirt, thankful that I had a tank top on under, and I pulled the shirt around her shoulder.

"I didn't want to ask before but…where's your mother?" I let out another sigh and then I looked up at the sky again. I hoped to someone that she wasn't looking down on me. She'd be sorely disappointed at the way I turned out.

"She's dead." I said holding my breath after. My heart began racing, I knew talking about it would bring back too many memories. Too much pain. "I can't talk about it…no one told me that someone dying would hurt like this. I didn't think…I'm sorry. I just can't say anymore."

"I'm really sorry about your mother." Rachel said placing her hand gentle on my knee. I flinched at the contact; no one really touched me like that for awhile. "Do you want to stay over here? Just for the night? I'll send my father over to talk to yours. He's great at convincing people, that's how he got those people to buy most of the art today."

"He won't care where I am." I assured her.

"Santana, I'm sure he will. I mean he's all over you about keeping your door open, I think he'll want to know where you are." I wish she knew more about me.

"He's drunk Rachel. He's fucking wasted out of his mind right now." I hissed. I can't remember a time when I wasn't bitter and depressed. The thing that really bothered me was the way Rachel looked down at the ground. I could tell what she was thinking. She was trying to put herself in my shoes. She didn't have to do that, she had a perfect life, changing that would be hell. "He said he'd change once we got here. Can't say I believed him but disappoint like this makes life feel pretty worthless."

"Have you changed? Since you left California I mean." I swallowed trying to clear up the dryness in my throat. It wasn't working.

"No…I'm still the fucked up kid-."

"Why do you do that?" Rachel cut me off.

"Do what, Rachel?"

"I think you're amazing, but the things that you say…they're so dark." I shrugged and looked away from her. She should honestly be a detective when she's older.

"I have more problems than you know Rachel." I told her honestly. I kicked a rock as far as I could from my seated position and watched as it landed in the grass. It was dark outside, the only light emanating from Rachel's house and my living room. "Surprised I haven't turned to drugs yet." God that joke was morbid. I stood up and thought about taking a walk like I had last night.

"Where are you going?" Rachel asked grabbing onto my wrist.

"Thanks for the great night Rachel. Tell your dad thanks as well. I just need to walk around. Clear my head." Rachel didn't look happy but she didn't protest either. "See you tomorrow."

"Goodnight Santana."

…...

I stayed out way too late last night. I got lost in my thoughts and some of my dying dreams. That's why I was stifling a yawn while Mrs. Corcoran handed out our essays that we'd turned in last week. Class would be over in two minutes, so it's not like she was going to start another lesson before then. A paper was placed face down on my desk and I quickly shoved it into my backpack without even looking at the grade.

"I'll see you delinquents tomorrow." Mrs. Corcoran joked as the bell rang. "Santana, would you please stay after." I froze in my seat as everyone rushed out of the classroom. I stood up slowly once we were the only two left in the room. My backpack hung limp in my hand, and suddenly that four page paper seemed to weigh down the entire bag.

The paper must have been bad. It must have been really bad for her to hold me after class. "How bad was it?" I'd rather her just say it. I'd rather her give me a preview of how much I'm going to be beating myself up over this tonight.

"Santana." She said standing up as well, only she was behind her desk, wielding a small smile. "You received a 100%." I stared at her waiting for the punch line. That was still good right? I'd never heard of a school where 100% could be bad.

"So what did I do wrong?" I questioned after a long silence.

"Let me tell you something Santana. Every single student in this classroom wrote about racism in Othello. They thought that the portrayal of Othello was racist and proved how African-Americans are perceived as negative in most stories. You didn't." I didn't know if I was supposed to be proud of that or what. "I was very impressed by your paper. I exemplified extreme understanding of the play."

"Thank you." Was I going to get a cookie or something?

"Can I see your book?" She questioned. I shrugged and opened up my backpack and pulled out the book, handing it over to her. She turned through all the pages and let a little humph escape her lips. Was their something wrong with the copy of the book? "See now that's interesting."

"What's interesting?" I questioned eyeing her curiously.

"You didn't annotate at all. This is weird considering in that in class essay you quoted from the book writing down act, scene, page and line numbers exactly." I didn't understand where she was going with this. She placed the book down on her desk and reached into the top drawer for a piece of paper. She picked up a pen and began writing something down on the paper. It took her awhile to write everything down, I didn't even know what she was writing actually. "Take a look at this." She held up the paper. It had like a million numbers written on it. The numbers were split up into rows and columns, but the numbers ranged from 0.897 to 43.0987123. Almost as quickly as she had the piece of paper up she dropped it down on her desk where I couldn't see it.

"What was that? Is this math class now too?" I got her to laugh but she still didn't drop that look of intensity in her eyes.

"Row 17 column 3, what was the number there?" Was this a game?

"No one could remember what number was there." I told her. I was getting sort of tired of this and she was cutting into my lunch time. "This is stupid." Why was I getting so flustered? Should I just answer the question?

"If this is stupid then just tell me that you can't do it." Yeah let me go ahead and do that. The real problem is that I could. And I could do it easily.

"13.7651009872." I recited from my memory.

"Row 13 column 18." She challenged.

"41.908726310." I responded.

"Eidetic memory." She exclaimed with a huge grin. I didn't exactly like that she was looking at me like I was in a clown suit, but I was glad she was happy. "This is rare; I've never seen such extreme photographic memory."

"It would be awesome if you kept this on the down low. I don't really want to advertise my freak ability." I explained to her.

"Well talk about this more Santana, it's something that is truly fascinating, but I won't tell anyone. You're secrets safe with me." That was the moment when I knew I could trust Mrs. Corcoran.

…

"Hi Santana." I wasn't really thrown off by the blond ditz sitting down at the lunch table next to me, but I was caught off guard by the stiffness in her movements. She looked rehearsed and it was strange.

"Hey Brittany…um you alright? You don't look yourself." She plastered on a fake smile and glanced at the palm of her hand.

"I'm fine Santana. I was wondering if you'd like to party with the Puckster and hazel-eyed bombshell tonight." I could see that there was black ink on the hand, and it was blatantly obvious that Puck had told Brittany what to say.

"Are you asking me or is Puck?" I looked across the cafeteria and caught Quinn and Puck attempting not to look obvious. They might as well have had some binoculars because I knew they were watching.

"Is this a riddle?" I glanced over at Rachel and Sam who tried to control their laughter.

"No, tell them I'll go to their stupid party." Brittany clapped her hands and squealed.

"I'm so excited! This is going to be so much fun!" She grabbed her tray of food and rushed over to tell Puck and Quinn the good news.

"Tell us how it goes Santana. May the force be with you." Sam said giving me a salute.

"What are you talking about? Aren't you guys gonna come with me?" I questioned looking between Rachel and Sam.

"But we weren't invited." Rachel rationalized.

"If you guys don't go I won't have any fun." I told them. "So I'll pick you both up at 8-."

"No wait I want to show off my truck." I'd seen Sam's truck and it was beyond shitty, but whatever he could do his thing.

"Fine, Rachel…be ready by 8. If you overdress this time, I'm gonna make you wear flannel." Rachel tossed a cherry tomato across the table and it hit me right on the nose. "See you then."