'culo = ass'
'Baja el por estas escaleras ahora – come down these stairs now'
'No me hagas subir y arrastrar tu trasero hacia abajo = Don't make me come up there and drag your ass down' (all according to Google Translate)

Glee: Season 1 Episode 4 - Preggers

Chapter Two
"So…how'd it go?" I ask standing up, putting the magazine down as Quinn leaves the doctor's office. I agreed to go with her, but there was no way that I was going to go in. She nods at me as she starts to cry. I open up my arms and pull her in. "It's okay, everything is gonna be fine" I lie. I look over her shoulder and see people starting to stare at us. "C'mon let's go" I say wrapping my arm around her shoulder, guiding her out of the building. "What you gonna do?" I ask as we leave. "Are you gonna keep it? Have you told Finn?"
"I don't know. What should I do?" she turns and looks at me. I take a deep breath, knowing it's time to stop beating around the bush. Knowing she's not going to like what I have to say, but she needs to sort this as quickly as possible. I wipe a tear from her eye.
"You need to tell Finn" I start, shrugging my shoulders "He has a right to know". Quinn just looks at me, evidently getting more emotional by the second. I guide her to my car. I take another deep breath and continue "You then need to decide what your gonna do". I stop and braise myself for Quinn's backlash. It doesn't come. I continue, getting in the car and starting it up. "You need to decide if you're gonna keep it or not…"
"I can't have an abortion San, I just can't" she replies. I start to drive, trying to choose my next words carefully.
"Then you're gonna have to tell your parents Q" I say softly, trying to sympathise with her.
"Tell my parents! Are you crazy?" she starts to shout at me from the passenger side. "You want me to tell my holier-than-thou Christian parents that there sixteen-year-old daughter is pregnant?!" she continues still shouting.
"Woah, woah, woah, don't shout at me" I fire back "It's not my fault you got yourself knocked up by Frankenteen" Once I start I can't stop myself "…and I think there gonna notice when you gain forty pounds and shoot a baby out of your vagina over the Sunday roast" Okay, so maybe that was a bit harsh, but I've spent my whole Saturday trying to be as supportive as I can about this. How could she be so stupid? It's not my fault that she's in this position. Finn should be dealing with this, not me. We spend the rest of the drive back to Quinn's house in silence. I park up outside her house, allowing her to get out.
"Thanks San" she smiles sheepishly getting out of the car. I force a smile and nod to her in return and start to drive off.

I spend the drive back to my house trying to process everything that's just happened. Quinn is the president of the celibacy club; how can she preach about waiting until marriage and then go and have sex with that oaf. She obviously had sex, you can't get pregnant from making out in a hot tub, it's just not possible. What idiot is gonna believe that? God, what a hypocrite, the number of times I've had to endure a lecture from her about sex when she's no better than the rest of us. At least I'm smartest enough to make sure we use a condom, even if Puck does try his best to refuse. There ain't no way that I'm ever becoming a teen mom, especially not to one of the Lima Losers that walk around McKinley High thinking that they're something special. Imagine being stupid enough to get knocked up whilst still in high school. You might as well give up now, because your life is over, you're a Lima Loser, and that's all you'll ever be.

"Mami, I'm home" I shout dropping my keys into the bowl on the side.
"In here" she responds from the family room. Hmmm, her voice sounds weird, kind of angry, I thought we were fine after this morning. Against what would later prove to be my better judgement I go into the family room. I see my mother sat on the sofa in silence. She puts her book down as I enter.
"Hi mami…where's papi?" I ask slowly, noticing that my father is absent.
"He's out. Lucky for you" she responds. Lucky for me? Why is that lucky for me? I pull my face in confusement. "Sit" she points down at the sofa. I sit, and as I do she stands up and puts her hands on her hips. "I told you not to lie to me!" she raises her voice.
"What? I didn't lie to you mami" I answer still confused "I was with Quinn"
"This morning, Santana. You lied to me!" she replies.
"No. I didn't" I fire back raising my voice, standing up as I do so.
"Yes! You did!" she shouts back. I sit back down, still not understanding what I've lied about. My mother starts to pace backwards and forwards in front of me, ranting "If you didn't lie, then why have I gotten another phone call from your school? From a Mr. Schuester?" I sit in silence, as it dawns on me what she's talking about. Silence is my best friend right now, I tell myself. "You were listening to music in lessons. You were rude to a teacher. You walked out of lesson. You refused to go to the principal's office. Am I missing anything? That's why you came home early, isn't it…Explain yourself…NOW!" I feel my heart rate quicken and my blood start to boil as I sit and listen to her rant only knowing one half of the story.
"No mami. That's not what happened" I start shouting back, walking towards the door, trying to cool off but with no effect. "He was making a mockery of us! Of our heritage. Our history"
"He is your teacher, Santana, he was teaching" she replies, still angry.
"He was not teaching! He knows no fucking Spanish whatsoever. Do you know how fucking embarrassing it is, having to sit through that? Sit there and take it like we're some kind of joke. Like we don't matter. Like I don't matter. Like as long as he can dress up and get a laugh, it's all okay. That's not right mami. I couldn't take it anymore" I get so angry I start to tear up.
"Don't you swear Santana" my mother answers, before noticing the tears in my eyes. She gestures to the sofa. "Sit, mija". I do. She sits next to me, wipes away my tears and takes a hold of my hands.
"You know we have to work extra hard in life just to get what others are handed. But being a Latina, it's nothing to be embarrassed about" she strokes the hair out of my face. her voice a lot calmer.
"I know mami and I'm not embarrassed. I love being Latina. It's just hard sometimes" I reply, regaining my composure.
"I know mija. But that's no excuse for the way you acted. We don't get sent out of lessons. We sit, we smile, and we work out culo off to be better than them" she chuckles.
"But what if I'm fed up of just sitting and smiling. I have a 4.0 GPA, I'm one of the top Cheerios, in the Celibacy Club and the Glee Club, but I should have to take it because I'm Latina? That's bull crap mami and you know it"
"Language Santana" my mother interrupts.
"What…bull crap? That's not even a swear word" I start. The anger inside returning "It's just what comes out of a bull's 'culo'" I add sarcastically, rolling my eyes as I do.
"Room now, Santana" my mother points to the stairs "I've had just about enough of your cheek for one day. We'll continue this when your father comes home". I stand up, shaking my head and again rolling my eyes as I do and folding my arms across my chest.
"Wow, Quinn can have a bun in the oven, but I can't even say bull crap" I mumble to myself as I push past my mother and up the stairs to my room.
"What did you just say?" my mother shouts after me as I ignore her.

"Santana Diabla Lopez. Baja el por estas escaleras ahora" a voice booms from the bottom of the stars. I freeze. I've been laid on my bed in silence for the better part of two hours stewing in my own thoughts, on how unfair this whole situation is and now it's time to face the music. My fathers home. "No me hagas subir y arrastrar tu trasero hacia abajo". I jump up and head downstairs, not sure if he's bluffing or not and not wanting to find out. I slump into the kitchen and sit down at the kitchen table, trying my best to not make eye contact withim. I don't need to look at him in his eyes to know that he is furious. WHACK! He slaps his hand down on the table and makes me jump out of my skin. "Who do you think you are? Taking to your teacher like that! To your mother like that! You're an embarrassment to the family name. You call yourself a Lopez…Look at me in the eye when I'm talking to you!" I don't reply. I slowly lift my gaze and look into my father furious orbs. I see my mother stood in the corner of the kitchen. "Do you not think about how it makes me look? Or do you just not care? I am the best doctor in the whole of Lima, Santana. And I've had to work three times as hard to get there, I've got a reputation to uphold in this town and like it or not you're a part of that. I have given you everything you could possibly want Santana, clothes, shoes, a new car, space and all I ask for in return is for you not to ruin my career, now I don't think that's too much to ask for, is it?" I don't reply. "Is it?" he shouts, his face so close to mine I can feel his breath.
"No papi" I say as quietly as possible "I'm sorry. Sorry mami"
"I can't even look at you. You disgust me" he growls pulling his face away from mine and leaving the kitchen, stomping up the stairs and slamming his bedroom door. My bottom lip starts to quiver as tears fall from my eyes. I can feel my wall build up further.

"Santana don't cry mija. He doesn't mean it" my mother says softly coming to sit in the chair next to me. We both know that's not true. She turns me around and looks me in the eye, wiping away my tears "Mija, I need you to be completely honest with me"
"O-okay" I answer.
"What you said before. Is it true? Or are you to one that's…?" she asks softly, nodding her head towards my stomach.
"What? No mami" I reply, offended by the sentiment "I'm not a Lima Loser" I scoff.
"Because, you know we love you and would support you whatever you decide to do" she probes. I don't know why she doesn't she believe me. I know I'm no virgin Mary but I'm not an idiot.
"Mami, I'm not pregnant honestly. Abuelita would kill me" I chuckle.
"Okay, just if you were, you would tell me wouldn't you? she asks.
"I promise mami" I reassure her, kissing the top of her head, as I go to leave.
"Because it wouldn't make you a 'Lima Loser'. Your life isn't over just because you have a child at a young age. It can be the best thing to happen to you" my mother says softly, starting to fidget in her seat "apart from going to college"
"What do you mean? What do you know about being a Lima Loser? Papi's a doctor" I ask sitting back down.
"I'm going to tell you a story. A true story, and I want you to promise that you'll sit and listen till the end, because if I stop, I don't think I'll be able to restart" she answers. I nod, slightly worried. I can feel the emotion coming from my mother. She takes a deep breath. "Seventeen years ago. There was a girl just like you, I mean Quinn, who found herself in a very similar situation. She was seventeen and a senior at McKinley when she found out she was pregnant. Her boyfriend at the time was also a senior and incredibly smart, had a scholarship all lined up and the most beautiful brown eyes" she looks deep into my eyes, almost as if she recognises them from her story "She didn't know what to do, she couldn't tell her parents, they were very strict, but she couldn't handle it on her own, she was just a child herself. So do you know what she did?" I shake my head "She told her boyfriend, who was incredibly supportive. He got his high school diploma but turned down his scholarship to look after his girlfriend and unborn child. He worked two jobs to buy a house here in Lima Heights, as it was all he could afford. Then their daughter was born, and oh how he loved her, he loved her so so much. But he always wanted more for her. So, he got a third job, and he saved. And he put himself through college to become…"
"…a doctor" I finish my mother's sentence. "This stories about you and papi, isn't it?" I ask, putting the pieces together in my head. "I-I-I didn't know" My mother nods at me.
"We decided early on not to tell you. We didn't want you thinking that you're the reason we're still in Lima. Us, you're papi and I, we're happy in Lima, but you, papi wants so much more for you than Lima, that's why he's so harsh on you. But he also wants you to remember your roots. To remember where you came from, that's why we still live in Lima Heights. So, you have something to aspire to get away from. So nobody can say you were handed anything" she tucks a strand of hair behind my ear "Your so much better than this town Santana. But you won't get there if you disrespect your teachers and skip school"
"I know mami. And I really am sorry" I answer, offering a sincere apology.
"Good. Now you've got to make this right mija. Talk to Mr. Schuester, and take whatever punishment he gives you with a smile"
"I will mami" I say standing up and kissing her cheek "Thank you for telling me. I love you"
"I love you too mija" she returns kissing my cheek. I go to leave the kitchen, then turn around.
"Oh and mami…you're not a Lima Loser" I smile at her.

I feel overcome with emotion as I make my way up to my bedroom. I shut my bedroom door behind me, then kneel down in front of my closet. I take the back out yet again and reach for my wooden box. I search threw the photographs and find of the oldest in my collection. I hold it in my hands and wipe a tear away from my eye. There stands a young family in front of a house. I study the photograph in more detail than I ever have before. Looking first at my mother. I'd never thought about how young she looks in the photograph. With no makeup on and her hair scrapped back she reminds me of Quinn this morning, except she smiles. Yes, she looks tired, but there's a glimmer in her eye. She looks genuinely happy and proud to be holding the little baby in her arms. Quinn didn't have than glimmer. I look over to my father. I read the logo on his polo shirt. 7-Eleven. That must have been one of his jobs I think to myself. I look up to his eyes. I'd never noticed how similar our eyes are before. The exact same shade of brown, they're identical. But his are tired, his whole-body looks run down, weathered and tired. He looks a lot older than eighteen in the photograph. But again, there is a glimmer in his eyes, he looks proud. Proud of his baby I wonder. I look at house behind us. It's our house, the one we still live in. Except in the photograph there is paint chipping off the windows and an overgrown front garden. It's broken and run down. I can see the work that my father must have put in to get it from where it was to how it is now. Beautiful, the best looked after house in Lima Heights. I wipe more tears away from my face. This is the first time I've ever seen my parents as more than just parents. I can see their struggles and their accomplishments hidden within the photograph. I can see how hard my father worked to provide everything and more for us, for me. And I let him down, again. I take a deep breath and fully regret my actions. Then I smile as I become overwhelmed with pride for my parents. I've never been prouder to come from Lima Heights. I've never been prouder to be a Lopez.