Chapter 11

A/N - woweeee, two chapters in a day? Love that for me. Don't much an awful lot more to say besides that I've eaten my bodyweight in coffee cake and Reese's today, and that is how D is getting through quarantine life. Later loves!

It was second period - Spanish - that she'd been called over the speakers that she were to come to Sue's office. To be honest, she was relieved that she'd been called out early. The whole past half hour had been tormenting. Mr Schue hadn't stopped giving her pitiful, wary glances all lesson. Finn, whom she shared the class with, was sat a few rows along from her, but he had been covering his face with his hand the whole time, as if he was scared to look at her.

So he should be.

The whole day had been kind of crap, really. She was sick of people staring at her. She was sick of the sniggers and the dirty looks from some people, the hungry looks from some of the guys, and the pity from a couple of people.

Yeah, Finn. This is why I didn't want to come out. At least, this is why I didn't want to come out yet.

So, yeah, she was quite glad to have to pack up her things and head down the hallway into Sue's office, where she found her sat with her glasses on, reading something on her computer. The older woman looked up when she saw the girl standing there in the doorway.

"Have a seat."

The latina flinched at the familiarity of the words. It felt like deja-vu. Still, she managed to collect herself, and sat down at the chair opposite her. She tried to avoid eye contact, instead focusing on the cheerleading coach's zip of her tracksuit. Sue took her glasses off, and leaned onto the desk with her elbows.

"You're not wearing your cheer uniform," the older woman said bluntly. Santana hesitated, opening her mouth to say something as she tried to think of an excuse, but Sue cut her off. "I'm not mad at you. You're excused from practice this week anyway. I can't have you working on an already unstable pyramid when you're probably unstable yourself. And that's not a criticism by the way - it's the truth and it's for your own good."

Santana stared at her for a few moments, unsure what to say. Sue carried on talking, much to her semi-appreciation.

"You spoken to your parents?"

Santana shook her head. "I've been staying with Brittany."

"You gotta tell them at some point, Santana. You've got to do that. I can't do it for you. I can't speak enough Spanish to, anyway."

"I'm going to… tonight. After school…" she trailed off.

"Make sure you do. Hiding isn't going to do you any favours."

Santana bit her lip. She knew that it wasn't. She just didn't know any different than hiding. She'd spent as long as she could remember hiding herself, hiding her true feelings, and it was exhausting, going around every day putting on such a guard but coming home and lying in bed and crying and panicking and worrying, trying to pray that it wasn't real or something, and she was sick of it, but she was so used to it that she didn't know how to get out of that pattern.

And now, she had to face the music.

"Do-" she swallowed hard, trying to push back the tears which were just about coming now - "Do you know the ratings… how many viewers-"

"A lot of people watch the 6pm news, Santana," Sue sighed. It was weird to see Sue this… serious about something. She was pretty sure 'serious' wasn't even the right word for the context, but it was as close as she could get to thinking of the right word. Was there even a right word for this context? This context, which should never have even happened in the first place. That's how messed up this was. It was never meant to be like this. And she was never meant to care so much about how everyone else thought of her… she wasn't like that… or, at least, she was like that in front of anyone else…

"Hello? Santana?" the flinched out of her daze, blinking to find herself in front of Sue again. "You went somewhere. Anyway, I've told that ginger counsellor who needs counselling herself not to be surprised if you visit her. I'm not going to say that it's a good idea, because honestly I don't think it is, but it seems like a better idea than the rest of Glee club serenading you in some cult-ish fashion. Other than that, you're dismissed."

X

"Hey."

Santana glanced up to her side, trying to smile at Quinn's voice, but not doing a great job at it. Fortunately for her, the blonde shook her head and offered her one anyway sympathetically. She sat down next to her and rested her chin on her knee which she'd pulled up to her chest, and went between looking at her and looking down at the gymnasium where the Cheerios were practising.

"Coach okay with this?" she asked. Santana immediately understood what she was saying. She nodded.

"She gave me the week off," she replied. "Told me to have the week off, actually."

Quinn nodded up and down slowly.

"That's nice of her."

Santana gave a dry laugh. "She probably feels guilty for it. Since it was her opposition, and all, really. Oh, and Finn's fault for blurting it out."

"True," Quinn murmured. Silence followed for several minutes before either one of them spoke.

"Have you eaten?" Quinn asked after a while. Santana remained silent, avoiding the question she didn't know how to answer. Was she hungry? She didn't feel like eating, but she hadn't all day so she supposed she probably should eat something. Her thought process was cut off when she felt a flapjack wrapper being pushed into the palm of her hand. "Eat it. Not eating isn't going to make you feel any better than you do right now, trust me."

"Says you," Santana muttered. Quinn huffed.

"Says you, too."

The blonde rolled her eyes.

"Y'know, I started eating when Beth… appeared," Quinn went on. "I think I hated myself more than ever, and I spent every day walking on the edge, and I was more alone and hated and bitched about than ever. But I still ate."

Santana rolled her eyes, turning her head slightly away from her. "Good for you, Quinn. And this is relevant, because?"

"Just telling you to look after yourself. And not do anything stupid," she shrugged. The latina chewed at the inside of her cheek. "If not for you, do it for Brittany."

She wanted to open her mouth, tell her, shout at her that she was completely fine. But it was no use. She couldn't get words out.

"You're not alone, Santana. Come to Glee today. We'll help you through it. I promise."