"Alright, guys, welcome back," Will said as the club settled into their seats. "This week, the assignment is ambition. Knowing what you want, and how you're going to get it. I want you to find songs that show drive—determination. I want to get us pumped for Regionals, and it'll be a good lesson for you seniors as well."
Santana narrowed her eyes a bit. This was starting to feel like a setup for some reason. Even so, she kept quiet.
"So…figure out a song for this week, and come with some ideas for Regionals. That's it for today."
Santana stood and grabbed her bag. Before she could follow Rachel out of the room, she heard their teacher call her and Mercedes back.
"Can I speak to you two for a moment?" he asked.
"I'll wait for you outside," Rachel told her, smiling.
"Thanks." She walked over and took a seat next to Mercedes. "What's up, Mr. Schue?"
"Look, I'll be honest with you guys…. This week's assignment…I had you two in mind when I thought of it."
She and Mercedes gave each other a Look before glancing back at their teacher.
"Care to elaborate on that, Mr. Schue?" Mercedes asked.
"It's just…" he broke off, sighing.
Santana tried to keep her annoyance in check. He had the "I'm about to be a mentor, damn it; whether you like it or not" look on. This would be interesting.
"You two are both seniors," he said. "And you're so talented and amazing. I don't want that to go to waste."
"Is this the part where you tell us you've sold us to the Russian mafia?" Santana asked with a smirk.
Schue scowled slightly when Mercedes smirked. "No. This is the part where I tell you both that I expect great things from you. The trouble is that I don't see any drive. You're both…well, kind of lazy, to be frank."
"Hold up, what?"
"Seriously?"
"Yes, seriously," he continued. "You're both amazing singers, and I know you could go far if you just put more effort into it."
"So we're lazy just because we don't come at glee with the intensity of Rachel or Kurt?" Santana asked, brow furrowed.
"It's time to start thinking about your futures, guys," he said. The conversation was obviously not going the way he pictured.
"And who says we're not?" Mercedes asked.
"Wheezy, what's your GPA, girlfriend?" Santana asked.
"3.98. Had some trouble last year with Advanced Calc."
"Exactly. And if I understood Trouty Mouth right, you've got some scholarship offers lined up already?"
"You know it."
"See, Mr. Schue? On the ball. I've got some things lined up too."
"What things? I haven't heard you talk about—"
"Just because we're not as loquacious as Rachel, doesn't mean nothing's going on."
"Damn, homegirl's got you trained. You just used 'loquacious' in a sentence. Correctly, I might add," Mercedes remarked.
"Quiet, Gladys. Anyway, Mr. Schue, we're fine. However, can we take a moment to point out one of your many double standards?"
"Double standards?" Will asked, shocked. "What are you talking about?"
"You've always picked on Wheezy here a bit more for lack of effort. I have no idea why that is, since up until last year we were all lazy as hell. Now I'm part of your project. Let me ask you this…when Mike was considering selling out and becoming a doctor last semester, did you take him aside for a heart to heart?"
"No…but that—"
"Was different? How? He was literally giving up his dreams for a while there. What about Finn?"
"What about him?"
"Kid doesn't have a clue what he's doing after high school. Have you talked to him about the way he coasts through school? No. But if Mercedes and I are quiet for two sessions of glee, all of a sudden we're lazy and aren't thinking about our futures? Seriously…did you even ask around before you decided to host this intervention?"
"I…I guess I—"
"That's a no. I'll walk you to your car, Wheezy."
It was pouring by the time Santana made it home. She'd given Rachel a shortened version of the Schuester Talk, and Rachel had, like any decent girlfriend, spent the rest of the ride griping about the man. Santana was feeling infinitely better by the time she made it home; rain be damned.
"Hey Papi!" she said, bouncing into the house.
"Hi Santana. You've got a bunch of mail over here. Looks like some colleges want you," he added, smiling.
"Yeah, well, you know…I'm brilliant. They know I'll make their school look good."
"I suspect they were most impressed by your boundless humility," Mrs. Lopez said, coming into the room.
"Probably," Santana said with a grin. She looked down at the pile of envelopes. Two rejections (she hadn't wanted to go to MIT or Pepperdine anyway), and three acceptances. One was from Columbia, one from North Carolina, and one…
"Oh. My. Freaking. God."
"What is it, mija?"
"I…it's…I applied to this program. It's for students on their gap year—"
"Gap year? What's that?" her dad asked.
"It's a year off from school. Students use it to travel or volunteer or gain work experience, or all three."
"Santana, we're not paying for you to party in New York for a year," her mom said.
"I'm not asking you to. That's not—"
"Why don't you narrow down some of the college choices," her dad said. "And we'll talk about them tomorrow when we get home."
"Because I don't want to go yet!" Santana yelled, frustrated. "This is a good opportunity, if you'd just listen."
"Don't raise your voice to us, Santana," her mom said. "Now, I don't know what this is, but we don't have time to argue it out right now. Your father has to go back to work and I have a client to meet."
Santana turned, grabbed her acceptance letters, and stalked out of the room.
"Santana! Where are you—"
"Rachel's."
She managed to hold back tears until halfway to her girlfriend's house. Leroy answered the door when she knocked.
"Santana? What…?"
"Is Rachel here?"
"S?" Rachel asked coming down the steps. It was obvious that she'd been crying too.
"What's wrong?" Santana asked, tucking the letters farther into her purse.
"I feel like I should be asking the same thing."
"Hiram!" Leroy called, walking into the kitchen. "We have two crying girls in our house—it's time for an ice cream run."
The girls managed a chuckle at that.
"My room?" Rachel whispered hoarsely.
Santana nodded and took her hand. When they made it up to the bedroom, she knew something was terribly wrong. Every stuffed animal Rachel owned was on her bed, with only a small Rachel-shaped hole in the middle. They cleared room to snuggle and stayed there, quiet, for a few minutes.
"You first," Santana said, finally.
"I got a letter from NYADA today. I'm not even a finalist," she said, choking back a sob. "I feel…kind of bad. I know I already got a finalist spot for Julliard and NYU, but…NYADA was my number one."
"You're going to nail both of your other auditions though," Santana said. "And when you're famous, NYADA's going be pissed that they turned you down."
Rachel smiled and snuggled closer to Santana. "What happened after you dropped me off?"
"More parent drama," Santana muttered.
"You know you're going to have to give me more than that."
The older girl sighed and took the envelope out of her pocket. "Remember that internship I told you about?"
"Yeah?"
"I got a spot."
Rachel shot up, staring open mouthed at Santana. "Really? What's it for? You have to tell me about it!"
"It's in New York with Ernst, Wilde, and Graves. They're a really big law firm. They have a few spots every year for kids just out of high school. It's basically to see how a firm runs and if you're actually into the whole law thing before you blow thousands of dollars on an expensive degree. Plus, it's paid."
"Santana that's…that's amazing."
"Tell that to my parents. They heard the words 'gap year' and completely shut down."
"What? Why? Did you tell them—"
"Didn't get a chance. They left before I could yell at them anymore."
Rachel sighed. "It's your decision. You should do it, if it's what you really want."
"It is," Santana said sadly. "Just wish they'd give me the time of day to share it with them."
Rachel hugged her tightly. "I'm sorry, babe."
Leroy and Hiram found them fast asleep twenty minutes later, and decided not to wake them.
LbN: How's everyone liking the story? Still on board? Leave a review and let me know :)