Author's Note : Dobry Hall, School for Girls exists in Daltonverse, which is created by CP Coulter. I do not own it. Nor do I own Glee, as it would be very different if I did. Very different. Um, I don't own Lucy Anderson or Mika I already forgot her last name, those are both CP Coulter's characters. Maria Von Blaken, Cassie Elizabeth Teller, and Desarae Gonzales are my characters. If you reviewed I would love you forever, especially if you have something you think I should change or something you want to happen, I'm always open for new ideas. Uhh that's all! Enjoyy love. Everyone's favorite character Kass is in this chapter! As always, she's not mine (sadness) but here is her facebook profile : www . facebook . com / kasseh kat. Have fun!
Santana would have known who was calling her without the specialized ringtone.
However, it didn't especially help that Government Hooker was pouring out of her phone, sounding more angry and violent than Santana could ever remember it sounding. Regardless, she reached out and picked the phone up off the counter.
Kassidy had left about an hour ago, and the latina knew she was free to go now that the interrogation was over and her punishment was being considered (meaning that she wasn't going to get a punishment, this phrase was only used to calm down parents and victims. There was a reason these kids were in Stonem, after all.) leaving Santana sitting at the counter, dreading what she knew was coming.
She glared at the screen, which displayed a picture of Quinn blowing a kiss at her. Cringing, she hit 'accept' and held the phone to her ear, expecting yelling.
Instead, nothing.
After a little while, she carefully said, "..Q?"
"S?" came Quinn's voice.
"Are you crying?" said Santana, alarmed.
"A little."
"What happened?" Santana's heart sank. "Is this about being berrysexual?"
"Yes."
"Quinn," groaned Santana, and heard Quinn sniffle in the background. She frowned. This Rachel kid was absolutely reaking havoc on everything about Quinn. She made a mental note to end her when she was back in Lima for the summer. Assuming she would be allowed to go home.
"I can't help it!" came Quinn's voice, breaking slightly and Santana could picture the expression on her best friend's face. Despite of everything that had gone down since she'd left, Santana felt her eyes prickle with sharp tears.
Santana waited on the line, knowing that Quinn didn't really want to talk about it – not to Santana anyway. She had probably already discussed it with Brittany. Santana felt her eyes blur with tears at the mention of the other name and blinked irritably several times, trying to get rid of them.
Her sight restored, she glanced around to make sure no one had seen . Just then, Quinn seemed to regain her composure.
"But that is not why I called!" she snapped, her voice loud already and on it's way up.
Ay dios. Here it comes. Thought Santana, crinkling up her face slightly, pulling her ear away from her phone a little bit in an attempt to protect herself.
"How could you do something like that to Brittany? Go on a date with that girl?" Quinn paused and when she spoke again her voice was lower, hushed the way it used to be when she was all Christian and prissy and was talking about sex or something. "How could you kiss her?"
"Oh, please," said Santana, her emotions quickly doing a 180, she could feel her anger rising to her face. "Like you didn't sleep with her. She's the one that did this to me!"
There was a pause on the other side of the line and it sounded to Santana as though Quinn was crying again. "Quinn? What is it?" she said, her thoughts immedietly flying to Brittany. What if something had happened? What if she'd gotten hit by a car or something? What if Brittany was dead and—
"We didn't really sleep together," Quinn's whispered, sounding guilty, with good reason, and probably a little afraid..also with good reason, as was displayed by the way Santana responded.
"You what." Santana's voice was deadly. "You bitch. You pretend to be my best friend, I even help you in your stupid experiments to see about your stupid berrysexuality idea because you are totally gay for that absolute theater geek—"
Quinn tried to protest on the other side of the phone, but Santana plowed on, ignoring her.
"No. Don't try to defend her. She is changing you. I am going to come down there this weekend or after classes on Monday depending on how long they put me on lockdown and I will knock the shit out of both of you. But her and her god damned black magic are gonna get it worse. You are not the Quinn I know. The Quinn I know wouldn't do this to me – why would you tell me that? You—you—" Santana paused, for once at a loss for words, which gave Quinn a second to interject.
"I was drunk," said Quinn, and Santana almost felt guilty. She could tell the blonde was crying and she knew for a fact it was her fault, as it always was. "I was drunk and I was angry at you for leaving because I need you to understand that," there was raspy breathing and Santana heard Quinn swallow. "I love her," she whispered. "I need you to understand that I'm in love with Rachel and I need you to accept it. I know you hate her, but please?"
It took Santana a moment to regain a composure. If she could hear Quinn fucking breathing over the phone, being just a little bit off was not gonna be okay.
"S?"
"Look, Quinn." Said Santana, smirking at how successfully she had gathered herself. "If you wanna get your mack on with rupaul, that's okay. Allright? That's fine. But listen, do not blame me for it. If you love a girl, you're gonna have to figure it out. You can call me anytime. But don't blame that shit on me."
There was an awkward silence as both leaders silently pushed at each other through the phone until Quinn's voice came through, barely audible; "Okay."
"But you better have a better way to explain those pictures to duck."
Click.
And then silence.
Santana laid her cheek down on the cold counter.
"I don't." she mumbled, closing her eyes.
