Santana woke up the next morning with a massive hangover. It had been a while since she drank that much. She didn't even drink that much the weekend at Mr. Shue's wedding. And yet she hooked up with Quinn.
She sat up in the bed and looked around the room. It was a mess, her shirt was thrown on the floor. Her shorts were half hazardly hanging on the top of the closet door.
"Holy fuck." She said as she started rubbing her head.
Caitlyn came by the door and stopped, looking equally as fucked. "Dude."
"I know. This hangover is bad. Fuck, what the hell happened last night?"
"We got shit faced that's what happened." Caitlyn answered. Santana got up from her bad and began walking towards the door. "Nah you're gonna put some clothes on before you step out of this room."
Santana laughed and grabbed her shirt off of the floor. They walked out into the living room together to see the mess that used to be a party. Red solo cups all over the place, a couple girls sleeping under the table. Jay was passed out on the kitchen floor while others made do with couch space.
"Okay last night was crazy." They looked over to the kitchen counter where two and a half patron bottles sat empty. Pretty good work for eight girls who barely drank. But it did explain the mess that was left.
"What did you and Quinn talk about last night?"
Santana looked over at Caitlyn. "I did what?
"Yeah. You called her last night after a round of shots and you went outside on the balcony to talk to her. You don't remember?"
"I mean, I do. But I vaguely remember what we were talking about."
Shit shit shit. Santana went into the room to grab her phone that was plugged in, but the charger wasn't connected to the wall.
"Damnit." She whispered to herself.
As her phone was charging Santana decided to take a quick shower.
Last night was fun, she hadn't let loose in a while. And with everything going on, Daytona, Brittany- Quinn. It was much needed. Not that Quinn was any sort of trouble to her. Things in the past few weeks had been nothing but bliss and the real reality of the situation was? Quinn helped Santana in more ways than she could ever explain. It was honestly more than she could even explain, She felt that she didn't have enough words.
Once she was finished showering, she went back to find that her phone was now turned on and she had nearly a couple texts from Quinn. Santana threw on a a bra and shirt and laid back on her bed with her phone.
Good morning S, I bet you're completely hung over this morning so call me when you wake up okay?
San?
I hope you're okay..
Santana smiled. But like Quinn, she allowed herself to debunk things as well because she didn't want her emotions to let her get carried away in something that she wasn't sure was happening.
She didn't want to keep her waiting, so Santana pressed call and waited for Quinn to answer.
Quinn woke up at around 6:30 the next morning. The sun was just rising so she figured it was a good time to go running. The air was cool, which was always perfect running weather for her. She changed into a pair of shorts and a tank top and took a nice jog in the park.
When she returned, she checked her phone. It was only 7:15, so she knew for a fact that Santana wouldn't be awake. Jess and Emily were in the kitchen, cooking breakfast for the three of them. Saturday morning meals were a tradition in the house, ever since they found out that Quinn didn't necessarily know how to cook. So Saturday's were used to teach her different meals.
Today, was Emily's traditional french toast that Quinn loved. She remembered the first morning that she ever had them. Quinn was on a late night study binge, one that she didn't recover from well in the morning. She was good at studying, and at school in general but Calculus really kicked her ass.
"There you are. You ready?" Quinn walked into the kitchen only to get stopped by Emily. "Nevermind you're sweaty, I'll just write this recipe down for you. Go shower."
Quinn left the kitchen and went in her room to grab her things to shower.
When she was finished, she grabbed her phone and walked into the dining room. She still hadn't heard from Santana, but it was okay because it was still early.
The girls sat around the table, exchanging stories about the last week. Jess and Quinn filled Emily in on the poetry slam, which was something that she rarely ever missed. But she had a date with a guy she had been talking to for weeks so she made the exception this once.
"Man. I like that guy too. The one that's always in the Abraham Lincoln hat. His pieces are usually so good."
"His piece was long this time. But it was super good." Jess said. "And last night, I found out that Santana has a voice."
"Was that before or after Quinn told her that she likes her?" Quinn turned to Emily, who had a smirk on her face. "You think I didn't know? And you think the guy I saw last night, was a guy?"
They all started laughing.
"Well, now that everything is now out in the open? Tell us."
"Tell you?" Quinn asked.
"About Santana."
But before she could answer, her phone began to ring.
"Speak of the devil." Quinn got up and walked into the living room.
"Well hello there, how you feeling?"
"Like absolute shit." Santana was laying on her back, holding her phone away at arms length. "How am I looking?"
Quinn scanned her. Santana's shoulders, perfectly toned. Her sports bra holding her breasts firmly to her chest. It was a Louisville cheer bra, as expected. Her hair looked damp, as if she had just taken a shower. Santana looked like absolute trash, dark circles around her eyes. And yet Quinn still found her beautiful.
"Like shit." She joked.
The girls laughed for a minute.
"Well okay don't hold back on me Q. Cait told me I called you last night. How bad was it?"
"Oh you weren't bad San, trust me. You actually sang to me after I told you that we were watching West Side."
Santana immediately blushed, "Well, I hope I at least sounded good."
"You always sound good San. I don't know why you second guess yourself so much." Quinn laid down on the couch. "Did you have fun last night?"
"Hell yeah. It was a good way to spend our last night off before Daytona. The seniors are pumped, I wanna get this for them."
"I've seen your routine. You guys are gonna win no doubt. I never understood why Sue never used you as a flyer. I'm glad you didn't give up on stunting though. I told you the extra practices would pay off."
Santana knew she was right. There was a day sophomore year where she was tired. Exhausted. Quinn found her sleeping in her car during lunch, and talked her out of quitting her all-star team. It wasn't a good idea, because Quinn knew those skills would be valuable to her if she chose to continue cheering after high school. And when senior came around and Brittany helped get her the scholarship to Louisville, Santana was glad that she had that talk with Quinn.
"I know, you don't need to remind me every single time." Santana laughed. "I am nervous though, what if I screw this up?"
"You? Screw up? When have you ever done that?"
"With Brittany."
They hadn't talked about Brittany in a while, and Quinn sort of avoided the subject because it seemed like Santana was doing good. She knew that it was a cover, there was no way that she could just get over Brittany in a few weeks. Or even months. If Quinn had that type of love, it would be impossible to get over. She didn't expect Santana to.
"San.."
"I did." She looked sad now. "I fucked it up."
"We talked about this, you didn't do anything wrong San."
"I broke up with her."
Quinn was left speechless, because yeah- she broke up with her. But how was Santana supposed to know that this was gonna happen? She did what she felt was right, because they weren't really working. Long distance was hard.
"Santana, what did I tell you?"
"You told me that this wasn't my fault because I was thinking of me and Brittany. I was thinking about what was good for the both of us."
"Right. Because you were, and none of us knew this was gonna happen." Quinn sat up on the couch. "I'm sorry, San. Because you? Deserve the world. You're selfless, caring. And if Brittany doesn't see that? Then that's her loss. Because we both know that Trouty can't give her everything she needs."
Santana put her phone down, and Quinn heard the sniffles. "San it's gonna be okay. Talk to me."
She kept her position for a few minutes, then picked her phone back up again. She wiped her eyes, and ran her hand through her hair. "It just sucks."
"I know San, because you love her. I don't blame you."
"I gotta go, I'll text you okay?" Santana said. "I love you Q."
"I love you too, San."
And the FaceTime call ended.
Emily walked into the living room, and sat next to Quinn.
"Hey, she loves you. That's something, right?"
"Yeah, just not as much as she loves Brittany."