Chapter 1: We Move Like The Ocean
The sun glared into the deep blue pool water with a vengeance, as if it was trying to boil it and the desperate swimmers occupying the water. It's a welcome reprieve from the constant yelling and bickering she was experiencing in the hotel.
Her mother's side of the family always was a little dysfunctional. She thinks that they bond through the arguing. Maybe the camaraderie in insulting your favorite sister's weight is what really keeps the family together.
It's hard to say whether she gets all the hostility from pure inheritance or if she conjured up that self-destructive behavior all on her own. Whichever it is, she knows the bullying doesn't garner the same result from her peers.
Her test runs on Quinn Fabray and Rachel Berry definitely didn't work. She drove them away faster than a NASCAR driver being chased by the police. Her control group failed too. She gave Brittany her-well her everything- and that still backfired badly. And in hindsight, that should have been her first hint that Quinn and Rachel were never going to put up with her.
Despite her experiment falling through, the results were clear. While running the stats through her mental calculator she came to the conclusion that she was the common denominator and it makes sense that she hightailed it out of there as soon as she graduated.
It's been seven years since she's seen anyone from that godforsaken town, save for her parents, and she'd like to keep it that way.
"Carlito! Stop messing with the little blonde girl!" She yells at her youngest nephew with an eye roll. She'd be lying if she said that little girl didn't look like a certain someone who she harbored a crush on for years. She figures it's neither here nor there.
"Santana?"
Well, maybe not so much.
"Mom, I don't need sunscreen."
It was a lackluster argument at this point. She was at that point where she simply said things just to see what would happen. A concept that she herself had snagged at an early age and never let go of.
"Beth, you know what happens when you don't put on sunscreen. Do you really want to spend the rest of your summer red and in pain?"
The child eventually conceded and let her mother slather her up. Their matching blonde hair is covered with identical straw hats. Unfortunately, or fortunately, that's where the similarities deplete. Sure, they pretty much have the same face but they were complete opposites in every other sense of the term.
Where her daughter was polite and kind, she was a bitch. Where her daughter was responsible she was ... not, to say the least. It was honestly a welcome blessing. As Beth approached into her teen years, she did not need another her.
Her teenage years were nothing to model oneself after. For heaven's sake, she got pregnant, gave birth, only for her to figure out she was a raging homosexual (More like come to terms with. She had known for a while) all in the span of like fifteen months.
If she's being the neurotic asshole she was back then, she'd blame it on that school. That hellhole was a cesspool for fucked up hormones and poorly developed emotional thresholds. And she was one of the idiots so easily manipulated by it.
"Mom, I'm going to go swim now." The little girl bounded off in her bright blue two-piece, her goggles in hand and inner tube tucked under her arm.
She, for her part, released a long cat-like stretch, leaning back onto the lounge chair. She closed her eyes and breathed a long sigh. This was a much-needed vacation to get away from the hustle and bustle of New York.
"Do you mind if I sit here?" The voice sounds familiar and she can hear a bit of a smirk in it as well, but still, she thinks nothing of it. She's on vacation, there is simply nothing for her to think about.
"Not at all."
She can hear the woman set down her belongings and begin to strip down. What kind of woman would she be if she didn't peek?
She squints open one eye and is met with a heavily tattooed arm. She immediately is drawn to a magnificent realistic picture of the sun, the moon, and the sky. The sky in particular is what drew her attention. Instead of that clear day/night sky that one would expect, this one was stormy and grey. And yet, it seemed as if it was parting for the sun and the moon. Quinn couldn't help but be drawn to the art piece, and subsequently, the person wearing it. It was like she had no choice.
"I like your tattoos."
The woman seemed to hesitate for a second before releasing a breathy, "Thank you."
Seemingly satisfied with her eager attempt at flirting, Quinn closed both eyes once again and returned to her relaxation. It only lasts thirty seconds longer.
"Beth looks exactly like you."
"How do you know-Rachel?" Her eyes are fully open now. She takes a good look at the woman next to her and just about screams.
"Hi, Quinn."
"Carlito! Stop messing with the little blonde girl!"
"Santana?" The woman in question looks down about three lounge seats with a furrowed brow. Upon recognition, she scowls. She skipped surprise and just went straight to anger. The 'yelling place' as she used to call it.
Santana stood out of her chair slowly.
"Is it just me or is she walking over here in slow motion?"
"Is it just me or did she get hotter?"
Quinn looked at Rachel with a face that was hard to read but also definitely said 'Shut up before she kills us.'
After what seems like an eternity Santana reaches them. She looks beyond pissed and maybe even a little sad.
Her mouth is open and she's definitely going off on them but neither of them is listening.
Quinn's not sure what Rachel's preoccupied with but for her, it's definitely the bead of sweat trailing down Santana's neck and into her ample, tanner than normal cleavage.
"You guys aren't even listening! Fuck you!"
Was that an offer?
"Santana. We're sorry. We were just surprised."
"Yeah, you can yell at us all you want." There's an underlying not in Rachel's sentiment that they all seem to be highly aware of, but not too keen on questioning.
"We can go talk in my hotel room." Quinn offers, the Sun suddenly seemed twice as hot.
"What about Beth?" Santana mumbled still trying to fight her pout.
Quinn smiled, "My mom is around here somewhere and if she floats too far into the deep end she knows how to roll over unto her back and wave for help. We taught her well."
"We?"
"Me, my mom, and her husband."
"Oh."
Once they're all standing it becomes obvious that Santana is now the shortest. To which she just rolled her eyes at and all but stomped ahead into the hotel.
"Did her ass get bigger?" Rachel mumbled and then received a slap on the arm.
"Shut up."
"Don't pretend like you weren't looking too. Some things never change, Quinn." Rachel smirked and placed her hands in her board shorts' pockets. Her turquoise tank top ruffled as she did so.
"Oh, don't look so smug. You've wanted to jump her bones since the day you met. Besides, I bet she's madder at you then she is at me."
"What? Why?"
"Did you forget the whole making out one night, then leaving the fucking state the next. We haven't heard from you in almost 8 years, Rachel. So much shit happened. She missed you and I could only do so much. When Brittany-" Quinn abruptly stopped talking.
"When Brittany what?"
"Nothing."
"Look, Quinn. You don't know what you're talking about." A dark look passed over Rachel's face.
"Maybe I don't, but my guess is she doesn't either and you owe both of us an explanation. Especially, her."
"Are you guys coming or are you going to continue talking about my ass. Yes, it got bigger, No, not because of surgery." Santana stood by the elevator with her arms crossed and that scowl still spread across her face.
"We're coming, sorry about that," Quinn said as she pressed the button for her floor.
"Sorry for staring at my tits and ass? Don't be. It's always nice to know I still got it. Besides, I paid good money for these tits for that exact reason. For you to stare at them."
Quinn had to bite her tongue to keep from doing something embarrassing, like moaning.
"As blunt as ever, Santana."
"Yeah, well if you're not people tend to step all over you and I am not anyone's doormat," Santana explained as Quinn led them to her room. Giving Rachel a look that clearly meant 'That statement was definitely for you.'
Rachel just sighed for her part and trudged behind the two. These two women were definitely going to be the death of her and they didn't even know it.