Chapter 1

Maybe hightailing it to the other side of the country, doing a major that was way out of her comfort zone was not the best idea.

She was sick of crying every single night in bed. She had had way too much pride: she refused to apologise to the person she loved the most and now, Brittany was gone. Brittany was still back in California, doing a prestigious internship in a dance studio in San Diego. And guess where Santana got that information from. Mike Chang of all people. Guess Brittany was really out of her life now. Santana hasn't even seen or heard Brittany's voice since June, when they had the messiest breakup known to man.

A month later, Santana had done what she had feared the most, what Brittany had wanted the most: out herself to her way-too-religious family. But guess what? She got kicked out.

She probably shouldn't have been too surprised: she kind of saw it coming as soon as her father's eyes narrowed when she dropped the L word. It couldn't have gone worse; her mother was too docile to do anything about it while she packed a measly suitcase and got thrown into the tumultuous storm outside their house, all by herself, unwanted.

She had desperately dialled the number she memorised long ago, only to find out that the number was no longer active.

Brittany left her a month ago then, and Santana had lost her chance long ago. Now, in the stark July air, she was left with no family, no lover, and no money. She had nowhere to go.

Thankfully, she was able to stay at a friend's house for the rest of the summer, before she spent the last of her savings on a series of train tickets all the way to New Haven, to Yale. That friend, surprisingly, was Tina.

Santana really regretted how she acted towards some people in her power-hungry climb to the top. Because really, the only friends she had were what she called 'losers'.

But still, her grades were good enough to speak for her abilities and she managed to get into Yale with an 85% scholarship, which put her under a lot less strain. She was so grateful for that. It allowed her to turn down the full scholarship she got to medical school and go a completely different path to what her parents would've wanted.

She didn't know as much about architecture as she did medicine. But she just really wanted to put the past behind her, bury the pain of her parents, as well as Brittany, abandoning her and have a fresh start.

Which brought her to now. Her first day at Yale, and it was already not a good start.

Where to start? Her roommate, who ran by the name of Rachel Barbra Berry. She had this unhealthy obsession with Barbra Streisand, and would not stop running her huge mouth about that hippo of a woman; Santana had a feeling that Rachel just adopted the name Barbra as her middle name just because of that diva. On top of that, Rachel was the most egotistical bitch ever. It was just her horrendous luck that she had to get the worst roommate possible, wasn't it? Under normal circumstances, Rachel would've already gotten a horrible, Santana-style verbal beatdown, but since Santana was desperate to climb out of the shell she was in in high school, have a fresh start, and become a better person, she kept the snark to herself.

She moved in about half a week ago, and thankfully she has already scored a job as a waitress in a diner about twenty minutes' walk away from campus. It paid nearly minimum wage, but at this point, anything was good enough to help her put food on the table and to pay for the rent of this shabby apartment with a shabbier roommate.

Santana rubbed at her forehead as she brought her mind away from the events that transpired these past few months. The past four months have been the worst of her life by far, and she just hoped that her days at Yale would be better for her. After all, the only way was up, right?

Since it was the first day, the lecture this morning was mainly induction. Her professor handed every one of them some kind of brochure and a huge folder which briefly detailed the work that she was going to get stuck into this year. Flipping through the brochure quickly, Santana was pleased that she didn't go to medical school now. She could vent all her feelings through the artistic nature of her major, and she didn't need to be imprisoned with Chemistry and the likes, which she secretly hated but had no gut to tell her parents.

Unfortunately, she didn't speak to anyone. Of all the reasons, and she could hardly believe it herself, it was because she was too shy. She felt that if she went and initiated a conversation, they would see the true colours behind the mask of her mocha eyes and leave, just like everyone else that was supposed to love her. Plus, she wouldn't want to intrude on them anyway: they all seemed to know each other already and were already having a lot of fun. Santana was not mean enough to take that away from them. She did way too much of that in high school.

And now, she was eating alone at the corner of the canteen far away from the crowd, and she was surprised to find that she liked it. She didn't mind some peace and quiet, she definitely needed that with Rachel living in the same room as her and the extremely loud kitchen screaming that she would no doubt hear when she'll be working night shifts. She was due to start this weekend, and she was not looking forward to it at all.

The food wasn't that bad at all. There were some mashed potatoes with gravy, a mixture of cabbage, sweetcorn, and carrots as the viridescent component, topped off with pigs in blanket rolled in coatings of bacon. The dessert was a nice-looking sponge cake with crème fraîche. She could get used to this, but she just knew that because it was the first day, the food was better than usual to set a good first impression. Still, it didn't mean that she couldn't enjoy the food. In her solitude, Santana picked up a piece of pigs in blanket and placed it into her mouth, careful to not get any gravy onto her collar. She couldn't afford another shirt.

It was delicious.

Santana closed her eyes and savoured the sensation – she had way too much Asian food during the summer and since she hightailed it to New Haven she had been living on canned food (Rachel refused to share any of her vegan shit with her) so she probably enjoyed eating this more than she should've.

Her brief moment of oblivion was abruptly truncated by a loud squeal from the serving area of the canteen all the way on the other side. Snapping her eyes open, she turned towards the source of the voice and saw a blonde girl with short hair standing frozen near the serving area, cowering slightly under all the attention.

Even though some people returned to their conversation after having seen that no one died, a black girl, presumably the blonde girl's friend, spoke up.

"Sorry guys, she just really likes bacon."

The stark silence around the canteen was gone, and the canteen was back to life, the way it was before the girl squealed in what Santana perceived to be excitement.

It reminded her of Brittany's enthusiasm. And that caused mild pain to settle in her heart.

Santana squinted slightly to see the blonde girl who was cutely blushing, holding a tray of food and making her way to an empty table with the same black girl and another blonde boy who had large guppy lips. They began talking, chatting like a normal group of young adults, laughing their guts out.

Santana could not take her eyes off the blonde girl, whose cute blush was starting to fade. She couldn't see very clearly from here because she was so far away, but that blonde girl carried an aura of elegance and charm that left Santana ensorcelled.

Santana found that she wanted to get to know the short-haired girl's name, and she didn't really know why.

Santana was right. The food was getting worse with each passing day, and by the end of the week, all they served was some bland rice with a sorry excuse for a curry. But since Santana was really hungry, she had to settle for eating every last grain of rice, because she wasn't sure Rachel would be so kind to share her bitter salad again after Santana spat it out straight into the diva's face.

Even though the food was very bad, she found lunchtime to still be one of her favourite times of the day. It even trumped her morning lectures, probably because every single day, the trio of friends would be sitting at the same table, eating their food, chatting happily.

Santana paid no attention to the black girl and the boy with a trouty mouth though, because she focused her attention on the blonde girl who got a little overexcited at the pigs in blankets on the first day. She still had not seen her up close, but she was able to get a good look at the girl yesterday when she was just five places behind her in the queue. It was close enough to hear her smooth and lilting voice, close enough to see her alluring hazel eyes. They were incredibly beautiful. Also, she got to hear the blonde's laugh, it was a cute little hee-hee sound and it was enough to melt Santana's heart. Almost enough to make her forget the pain Brittany caused her.

She probably shouldn't be doing this, staring at the beautiful blonde from a distance like a creeper, but she couldn't help herself. She wanted to be able to muster up the courage to talk to the blonde, give that ethereal face a name, learn what she was majoring in, but if Santana didn't even have the courage to speak to her architecture colleagues, how was she going to talk to that beautiful girl?

All things said however, Santana was happy to settle for watching that girl from a distance. It felt like a bright beam of light that was lighting up her dark interior, loosening her up, making her slightly less miserable.

She may be crushing. But she had to be careful not to get in too deep. She was probably not going to talk to this girl anyway, through all these years in college.

The girl suddenly stopped talking and looked in her direction.

Santana blanched and quickly ducked her head, burying herself in the guise of eating horrible Thai curry.

It was her second week in Yale, and Santana was already exhausted. Who knew waitressing was such a nightmare? All those ungrateful customers, all the rush and panic that was in the kitchen. And all of that for what? A measly wage that was barely enough to cover the rest of her tuition fee. She was eating quite a lot of money with her accommodation too, and Rachel was hardly sympathetic.

That fucking bitch basically has the room to herself with how much Santana was working, she could at least pay 70% of the rent or something! Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid.

She knew Brittany hated that word, but Brittany wasn't here anymore. So she could say it as much as she wanted to.

Stupid!

She was running on six-hour sleep, and she felt that it was going to be less because waitressing wasn't making her enough money. The horrible food she has been eating is making her tired and sick, and she needed help with rent. She decided that she was going to look for another job this weekend. She'll give herself two more days of semi-happiness before all her free time goes down the drain and her life goes to hell.

The tuna pasta on her tray looked bleak as she made it to her sanctuary: the familiar, peaceful spot at the corner of the canteen, far away from everyone. Even though it had been a week, she had still not made any friends or talked to anyone really at all – she knew that she was being very antisocial and should not cut herself from social life at the beginning of college life, but truth be told, she was too tired and friends was not a luxury that she could afford.

She knew that her mother would argue the point, saying that she should actively be seeking conversations and taking part in extra-curricular activities… oh wait, she didn't have a mother anymore.

She didn't have the time for extra-curriculars anyway… workload was intense as it was, her job was also very time-consuming, she had no time for those kinds of things.

At least it was lunchtime, which meant one thing, right?

And sure, there she was, chatting with the black girl and Trouty Mouth (yes, Santana has already given him a nickname) at their usual table, eating her tuna pasta with poise and elegance.

Over the past three days, she had really wanted to walk over and strike up a conversation with this girl, because that would make her day, but she never mustered the courage. Because that girl was going to disappoint and break her eventually, like everyone did in this miserable world.

Santana sighed forlornly and turned her attention back to the food, stabbing at it angrily. The tuna pasta was horrible – the least Yale could do was serve some better food! She was in college, for heaven's sake, this wasn't school! They have got to serve better meals in here.

Santana raised her head to look at the table again, but she realised that the gorgeous blonde girl was no longer there. Frowning slightly, she craned her neck, hoping for a glimpse of the girl, but she was nowhere in sight. Her friends were still there, however. She probably finished lunch and left.

And now Santana didn't even have anything to look at.

Santana slapped down her fork, frustrated, unwilling to shovel any more food into her mouth. She figured that she would spend the tips she got last shift and treat herself to some proper food at a local store – she deserved it. Her mind made, she swivelled her legs out of the chair so that she could get out and tip the food away. However, as soon as her legs were no longer under the table, she felt something kick it. It was quickly followed by a yelp and the sight of a body tumbling to the floor.

For a very brief moment, Santana had considered letting the person fall. It was their fault for being foolish enough to trip on her legs anyway. But then the idea of becoming a better person and having a fresh start came into play, so she surged forward and caught the person by the waist before they could fall and drop all of their food.

The person's chest was heaving, probably from the temporary shock of tripping. Santana slowly panned her vision upwards, and when she saw the person's face, she could swear that her heart stopped.

It was the blonde girl.

Oh god. Her hazel eyes were so beautiful, so hypnotising. There were even little specks of green in them… her rosy cheeks, her perfect lips…

She didn't know how much time passed, just them in that awkward position, staring at each other. But then the girl broke out of her trance and righted herself.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled with a shy smile, cheeks pinking cutely. God, that voice! She could listen to it all day.

"N-No worries," Santana replied. What… what? She never stuttered before in her life! Well, maybe in front of Brittany, but that was a whole another matter!

"Thank you for saving my food," the blonde's cheeks flushed even more as she set her tray down on the table, adjusting her clothes. "I can be very clumsy sometimes," she continued, flustered.

"No, it was kind of my fault for tripping you up," Santana shrugged.

The girl smiled bashfully before she slid the tray to the opposite side of the table and plopped herself down on the seat opposite the brunette.

"Um… you're staying?" Santana said dubiously.

"Yeah," the girl chirped. "Is that okay? I want to talk to you, you look like you need someone to talk to," she shrugged.

"Do I?" Santana asked.

"Mm-hmm." The blonde picked up her fork and placed a piece of pasta in her mouth. "You're always alone here, and you always look sad."

"Oh," Santana breathed. She didn't know that anyone noticed, let alone the girl she had been staring at the past week. She just figured that she was invisible because she sat far away from everyone.

"So," the girl perked up. "I don't think we're in the same faculty. What do you study?"

"Architecture," Santana mumbled in response. She wondered how the girl would react if she said she was studying something like medicine. Subjects like that were more prestigious, that was for sure.

"Really?" the blonde raised an eyebrow. "That's so cool! I do law."

Law. Well, this blonde girl must be very smart then.

"Oh, shucks! I still haven't introduced myself yet. I'm Quinn," Quinn smiled, holding out her hand.

Quinn. A gorgeous name for a gorgeous woman.

"Santana," Santana replied, taking the blonde's hand.

She could swear that she felt a spark of electricity run from her fingertips through her whole system when their hands came into contact.

The cutest smile was back on Quinn's lips as she started to babble away at what her lectures were like, and Santana found herself smiling, drawn into this happy girl.

And that was not a good thing. She was falling. She was just setting herself up to have her heart broken again.

She was in so much trouble.

AN: I hope you enjoyed it! Should I continue this? I really don't want this to be a flop!