Santana bit her lip as she slipped back into her parent's summer home, closing the door as quietly as she could. She had noticed her mother's car in the front of the house and she hoped that it meant nothing, truthfully, she hoped that she'd be able to get away without getting the third degree about her whereabouts. Last night had been fun, she couldn't remember the last time that she had personally had that much fun with a boy, let alone anyone that she had dated.

It was a shame that she couldn't convince him to spend the rest of the day with her just lounging on his boat. He was very particular about getting to work on time, but she had nearly worn him down. Maybe if she stepped up her game next time she'd be able to get him to spend the day with her.

She grabs an apple off the counter and frowns when she feels two sets of eyes staring her down from the main living room. She freezes at the sight of her abuela who is looking at her with that knowing arched brow that somehow manages to make her feel like she's six again and spilled fingernail polish all over some old antique. "Santanita, come in here for a minute."

"I have homework—" She tries.

But years of putting up with Santana's escapades means that her mother is not easily fooled, especially since it's the middle of the summer. Santana sighs but comes to sit down on the couch next to her abuela. She had a bad feeling that she knew what this was about.

"So, mija, tell me, how are you enjoying your summer vacation?" Her abuela tries to start.

If they're going to force her to be a part of this conversation, then Santana's sure as hell not going to make it easy for them. "Good." She says flatly. Maybe that will be the end of it?

Or not. Alma sips at her drink and eyes her carefully. It's cold and calculating and creepy as fuck. "Good. You should have fun before your school starts at Yale. You won't be the first Lopez or Martinez to go to Yale, and you'd better not be the last."

"I won't." She promises. She swallows thickly and can almost feel the tension settling on her shoulders like a weight.

"Of course, you won't." Her mom assures. "And maybe then you'll find a nice boy that you can go out with."

And there it is. She'd been expecting it all along, so she's been waiting for this the whole time. "I'm eighteen—"

"Emphasis on the teen part," Maribel interrupts studying her daughter carefully. "You're young and you're dating an older man, one that doesn't have much of a future ahead of him."

Santana frowned slightly debating whether she wanted to drop the tidbit that Charlie went to Yale on both her mother and abuela, or that he was the owner of North Sails and was probably loaded. But then her parents would fall all over themselves and try and get them married. "I like him, he's fun to be around, I mean yeah he's a grumpy old man sometimes, but I mean he has all the qualities that dad always talks about. He's a good worker—"

"Yes, he's a mechanic I'm sure he's quite good with his hands and various other tools, but at the end of the day he's just a mechanic. One that not only disrespected your father but one that also doesn't seem to have a sense of family."

"He treats Brittany like family—"

"That is hardly a redeeming quality." Her abuela scoffs. "Face it mija, he is a leech and you are better off without him."

A leech who was quite possibly richer than her father, and clearly came from a good home of sorts. Sure, everyone had heard of the Fabray's but he could be from anyone of the super important families. Santana bit her lip, it was probably why he never mentioned it. "Well—we're not doing the long-distance thing. So, you don't have anything to worry about." Santana immediately attempted to get up, hopeful that she could go and get a shower and maybe get some rest before her shift at work with Brittany.

"You're an adult now Santana," Maribel sighs. "You are worth more than a litany of one-night stands and a parade of boys."

"I'm going to college Mami, not working the streets."

She feels her grandma slap the back of her head before she can even think to duck. "You might as well be working the streets. Dressed like that? In my day you would have been locked up for indecency or worse."

"Well, thank god it's not your day anymore," Santana mutters rubbing the back of her head. She manages to duck the next swat.

"Don't joke about being a whore."

"Your abuela is right. You don't want to develop a reputation as a girl who is easy."

"Because what would I ever do then?" Santana rolls her eyes.

Maribel frowned, "You might think it's a joke mija, but if you develop that reputation then men will only come to you for one thing. You'll never be the type of woman that they take home to meet their mother."

Santana opened her mouth to protest, but her abuela jumped in. "Has this boy you're dating asked you to meet his parents? No. Because he may be embarrassed of them, or he may not think your summer fling is much of anything. Trust us, no woman wants to be the disposable floozy."

"I'm not his—it's a summer fling. He doesn't live with his parents he lives on a boat. It's not like I can go over to their house and say hello—"

"A man who isn't close to his family—"

"Yes, I get it. Charlie couldn't possibly respect me because we had sex. I'm just a cheap slut, and he could never actually fall in love with me or anything. But it's perfectly okay for Charlie or any other boy to sleep with whoever they want. This. Is. A. Summer. Fling. At the end of it we're going our separate ways and don't worry, I'll find some rich prick to pretend to love, just for you and dad." Santana spits venomously before pulling away from both her mother and her abuela. "I'm going to go shower and then nap, he kept me up all night, and before your mind goes to this gross place he showed me the stars on his boat, pointed them out and gave me a history lesson about it. But he's clearly into me for just my awesome body."

Maribel watches her storm off, biting her lip. That hadn't gone well at all, but if it made Santana think twice about this high school dropout then maybe it wasn't a bad thing.

But Santana snaps back before she gets too far. "And just for your information, he's not a slacker or some waste of space. Yeah, he might just be a lowly mechanic but that's only because he's a grouchy old man on the inside and hates dealing with people like you and dad who think that money is everything. He runs and owns his own successful company." Santana snapped at them. "And before you scoff, Brittany confirmed it." Santana exhales noisily. "I'm going to shower and then take a nap, I've got work to do." With that she finally storms off marching up the stairs and heading to her room. That would teach them not to judge a book by it's cover.