A/N: *claps happily* I'm so looking forward to next chapter~
Rachel had another recital. It'd been two weeks since the day in their clearing, and Santana hated herself for seriously contemplating not attending. She'd never missed one of her cousin's performances, and though it made her physically ill thinking about seeing Rachel, it made her feel even worse thinking about not seeing her.
It had taken a long time to admit that Santana hadn't been a passive participant. She'd wanted Rachel just as much as Rachel had wanted her. It was all kinds of screwed up. How was she supposed to feel? She wanted her cousin. Her female cousin.
She had fallen in love. With Rachel.
Santana's parents had noticed that she'd withdrawn from the world, though more noticeably, she and Rachel hadn't been hanging out. Normally they were always together, and Santana had barely managed dodging a conversation with her mother she really did not want. No, they hadn't had a fight. No, they were just busy. Yes, Rachel was working on her recital, and Santana was catching up with her summer reading. Eighth grade was starting soon, and because Rachel had been stressing that the high school Santana kept on talking about was still a year away, so there was no reason to slack off just because it was the last year of junior high, Santana had decided to take it to heart and start doing what she should.
Truth be told, she'd been sitting in her room, staring at pictures of her and Rachel until her eyes burned and overflowed. But her parents accepted it, finally happy their daughter was seemingly becoming serious about school.
But now Rachel had a recital. And Santana ached so bad to see her that it had only taken her an hour to convince herself to get her bike out of the garage and head across town.
The candy stars burned in her pocket the whole way home.
Curled up into her side, having shoved herself between Santana and the arm of the couch, Brittany was hugging Santana's left arm, almost draped across her. With her head settled on her shoulder, Santana knew without seeing her face that she was giving everyone a petulant glare. The blonde loved parties, but even she hadn't expected the whole glee club to show up. Sighing, Santana placed her whiskey bottle between her knees and reached over to squeeze her arm comfortingly.
Quinn was on her other side, legs barely brushing against Santana, and she was adding her own annoyed expression to the group. Santana had to give it to her; even if the blonde was fuckin' upset at Santana for quitting, she wouldn't have shoved everyone at her to fix it.
Assembled across from her, the expressions on everyone's faces varied from contempt to nervousness, only Mike and Matt seemingly uncaring either way. She'd always liked M&M, and she'd almost bet that they were mainly there for the alcohol. They'd both smiled at her earlier, as they followed Puck and Finn into the living room, so she knew at least they were cool.
"Uhm, shouldn't we wait for Artie, at least…?" Tina spoke up hesitantly, and Santana had to give her props for being the first to actually say something.
Still, Artie meant Rachel. "No," Santana narrowed her eyes at the goth, "I want to get this shit over and done with so you can all fucking leave."
"Chill, girl," Mercedes set her beer down onto the coffee table. Crossing her arms, she stared at Santana like she was trying to see into her mind, "I have a feeling a lot of this crap has to do with our new member. And once she gets here, we'll be able to ask her some questions, too."
Panic and anger spiked through Santana. For a second, she forgot about her plan of staying cool and disinterested. "Oh hell no – !"
Kurt pushed his hair back from his forehead. "It's obvious," he said dryly, looking at her with his eyebrows raised and easily speaking over her when she bit herself off, "There's some history between you and Miss Argyle. Something incredibly juicy if it caused you subsequent discharge from the Cheerios." He dipped his head at her cast.
Drunk! Drunk! Santana needed to get drunker faster! Instead of answering, she knocked back a giant mouthful, narrowing her eyes at him over the bottle.
"You should really eat something," Quinn tried to pull the bottle away from her, but Santana just tightened her grip.
"And you should mind your own business," she jerked her drink back, happy that it was already low enough that none splashed out. Squinting a little through the bottle, she tilted her head. She'd already drunken that much? Hot damn. No wonder her face was starting to heat up.
No, wait, some had already been poured out. Still, shit. Maybe she should eat something.
Kurt leaned over to Mercedes, making an obnoxious sotto voce whisper, "You realize she didn't deny that she knows Rachel?"
Mercedes nodded sagely.
Rolling her eyes, Santana decided it wasn't worth it and turned to Puck. "Puck!" she snapped out, "You order any pizzas?"
"Oh, uh, I did," Finn raised his hand.
"Awesome. How many?"
Finn thought for a second. "Four… I think? Two pepperoni, a vegetarian, and a Hawaiian. Yeah." He nodded, taking a swig of his drink, "Four."
"I call pepperoni," Mike spoke up, nearly everyone else nodding, only Tina and Kurt opting for Hawaiian.
Brittany leaned up to whisper into Santana's ear, "We're eating a hulu dancer?"
"Hula. And no." Smiling affectionately at her, Santana looked down at her whiskey bottle. Pushing herself up, she set it down onto the coffee table, turned to Quinn and raised her eyebrow at her, "Q, I am tasking you with making sure no one gets their hands on my drink, kay?"
The blonde rolled her eyes but nodded, scooting over into the space Santana left. Having pouted when Santana had gotten up, Brittany happily snuggled into Quinn. "Hey, Q," she asked perkily, "If you ate Hawaiian pizza, would your baby come out Hawaiian?"
Busting out laughing, Santana managed to escape into the hallway. Hell yeah. Food as a distraction. Always worked. Swaying a little as the combination of pain medication and alcohol on an empty stomach rushed up to her head, she whirled around with her right hand raised when a rough hand grabbed her arm.
"Whoah!" Puck swerved back, "Watch it with the brick!"
Puck. "What the hell do you want?" she hissed, tugging her arm away.
Puck raised his hands in surrender. "Look," he took a step forward, studying her uncharacteristically seriously, "I realize that I totally pulled a douche move, but – "
Douche move? Douche move? "Oh, that's all you're going to call it?" she snapped. Douche move did not fully contain the ramifications of the stunt her friend had done. "Puck," god dammit, the tears were coming back; fuck alcohol! Why did she think drinking was a good thing, again? "Not only do you throw me to the glee club like I was a fuckin' Christian and they were the lions, but," her voice dropped, "But Rachel?"
Sighing, Puck ran a hand over his Mohawk. Wrapping his hand back around her arm, he started tugging her down the hall to the bathroom. Shoving her inside, he followed and locked the door after him.
What the fuck? Stumbling a little, she managed to catch her balance with the help of the sink. "Puck," she growled, rubbing her left palm against her shirt to get the physical shock of catching herself to go away, "You an' me are not going to gets our quickie on."
"While I would totally be up for that and you know you'd be missing out, not gettin' a piece of the Puckasaurus, that's not why I brought you here." Walking forward, Puck jumped up to sit on the sink, forcing Santana to take a step backwards. "Alright, I know I can be a jerk."
Santana scoffed. "You're always a jerk."
Making a face at her, Puck nodded and continued, "But I'm always badass. And…" He paused, that strange smile on his lips again, "As your badass lesbro, I took it upon myself to kick the stupidness out of you.
"Santana." He gave her a pointed look, "You need to talk to Rachel."
What the fuck? Was she hearing this correctly? "Are you sure you still have a dick?" she asked him incredulously.
Puck glared at her. "Look, when I broke into your locker for her – "
What?
She must have made a face, because he gave her a really? look. "Your phone, dumbass. You didn't think she just dropped it in, did you?"
Honestly, she hadn't thought about it at all. Wait… So he was the one who put her phone and the note in? Did that mean he…? Pure anger started building in her body, and she had to shake her head to get her to concentrate again. "You fucker," she hissed, stomping up to him, "You didn't – "
Puck jumped down. Giving her an arrogant smirk, he raised his eyebrows. "Babe, this is me we're talking about. Of course I did. And even if she hadn't given me some of the most kick-ass sugar cookies ever, I'd tell you that that girl? That fellow hot Jew that I know you've gotten some of, she's as fucked up as you are over this. And if you don't go in and reclaim her, someone'll swoop in and take her away from you."
Sheer panic ripped through Santana. Someone would take Rachel away? Who? Who? No! Rachel couldn't be taken away again! Rachel was hers! Was supposed to be hers!
Eyes darting around the room, her stomach rolled. She couldn't be in the small bathroom anymore. She needed to get out. Rachel was coming, right? With Artie. Soon. Did Artie want to steal her away?
Did Puck? Is that why he'd called her here?
"Shit. Santana, calm down."
Calm down? Calm down? Santana sucked in deep breaths, the rushing pounding in her head almost drowning out Puck's words. When he tried to put his hands on her, she recoiled, pushing him away.
A loud knock sounded on the door. "S?" Brittany called out, voice soft but carrying, "You might wanna come out now. Rachel's here."
Santana's heart tripped, heat racing through her body.
Puck took a breath through his nose, and he turned to look at Santana, who stared back at him. She watched as he seemed to decide something, walking forward. When he slid his arms around her, she let him. She may have been angry and furious at him, but right now… Right now she didn't mind his strength.
Even if he was the catalyst for needing that strength.
"San," he whispered into her ear, squeezing her, and Santana slowly wrapped her own arms around him, "We cool?"
Breathing in deeply and letting it out in a sigh, Santana nodded. Puck may have been a dumbass punk… But he was her dumbass punk. Pulling back, she mustered up a smile, "Puck?"
"Yeah?"
"You're being really gay right now."
"Hey!" Shoving her away, Puck straightened and scowled at her. "The Puckster's all man, baby!"
Santana just smirked and flicked her hand at the door. "Sure. Now git. I gots to do some female shit."
"I'm a man!"
"I said sure. Now go!"
Making a face at her, Puck puffed out his chest and unlocked and pushed open the door.
"Puck?" Brittany sounded curious, and when Santana looked up to watch Puck leave, she waved for the blonde to come in and join her. "S," Brittany slid in and closed the door behind her, "Why was Puck muttering something about Cheerio Ashley and proving his male… Prowls?"
Santana snorted. "Don't mind him. I just questioned his masculinity." Served the douche right.
After all, because of him, Rachel was in the house, probably only a couple of walls away. Dropping her shoulders, she closed her eyes. "B," she whispered, smiling when the other girl immediately pulled her into a hug.
"Yeah?"
Breathing in her soothing scent, Santana pulled herself together. "Never mind. Thank you." Hugging Brittany tightly for a second, she smiled and stepped away. "Pizza here yet?"
Brittany smiled back and took Santana's hand, hooking their pinkies together. "Yup! Came right before Rachel and Tina's robot."
Rachel…
Keeping the smile on her face, Santana followed Brittany out of the bathroom and towards the kitchen. And, most probably, towards Rachel.
She could do this.
No. That wasn't it.
She had to do this.
