***Mr. Schue's POV***
When I walk into Glee Club, I realize that Santana is missing. This really concerns me after what happened this morning. I wanted to talk to her after rehearsal to make sure that she is okay and offer for her to stay at my house in the guest room if she needs somewhere to sleep.
"Where's Santana? I saw her earlier today, so I know that she was at school." I question the rest of the glee club. Everyone looks around, as though expecting someone else to answer. Oddly, only Rachel is able to answer my question.
"She was not feeling well. She told me that she was going to go back to her house to rest." Rachel responds. Well, that seems positive. Maybe her parents are letting her stay, maybe it was just an overreaction. At least that means that she has somewhere to sleep, and I now know where she is.
"Okay, thanks Rachel. Everyone, lets practice the dance we learned last rehearsal. Sectionals are coming up and we still do not have this perfect." Practice seems to continue as normal, except Rachel seems slightly distracted. Nothing to worrisome though.
***Rachel's POV***
I cannot concentrate during glee rehearsal because of how distressed Santana seemed earlier. As soon as the clock says 5:00, I rush out the door to my locker. I quickly grab my bag and all of the books I will need for the night, and head to my car. I drive straight to Santana's house; I know where it is because I drove her back after one of Puck's parties when she drank way too much. When I pull up, I realize again how large the house is. The house is easily 10 times larger than my house, and my family is pretty well off. I do not see Santana's distinctive matte black Mercedes G-Wagon, but I go to the door anyways, assuming that she must have just parked in her garage. When I ring the doorbell, I am met with a man that I have never seen before, who I decide is Mr. Lopez. He does not seem very welcoming.
"Who are you?" Mr. Lopez questions
"I am a friend of Santana's. I came to check on her, she seemed pretty upset earlier." I say, trying to ease the obvious tension. My statement, however, only seems to upset him more. Her starts to glare at me, as if he is angry at me even mentioning Santana's name. He continues his eerie glare for what seems like forever before replying.
"That useless thing does not live here anymore. As far as I am concerned, she never existed." The man says this in an overwhelmingly monotoned voice, making this extremely concerning statement seem like an everyday occurrence. I have no idea how to respond, so I decide to just walk back to my car.
***Mr. Schue's POV***
After Glee rehearsal, I decide to go to the Lima Bean so that I can finish grading the tests that I obviously did not have time to finish when I was trying to calm a clearly overwhelmed girl. When I pull up, I see a familiar car parked right in front of the entrance. It's definitely Santana's, it has all of the duffel bags in the back. I thought she was sick and resting back at her house. I walk in to the Lima Bean and search for the thin, Latina, finding her sitting in a chair in the back corner. As I approach her, I see that she begins to panic.
"Santana, are you okay, Rachel said you went home sick, I think she went over there after Glee to check on you." If she wasn't panicking before, she definitely was by now.
"Rachel went to my house? Why would you let her do that? I told you I was kicked out and you just let her go over there?" With this statement, she begins to breath as fast as if she had just ran a marathon.
"Hey, hey. Calm down, it's okay. I will call Rachel and tell her that you are here. Everything will be fine, you just need to take deep breaths and calm down." I say in attempt to help the girl. I dial Rachel's phone number, but she doesn't answer. I leave a message telling her that I found Santana and that she is fine. After this I lead the Latina girl back to my car and get her bags from her car. I put her bags in the trunk of my car, and by the time I configured the five fairly large duffel bags into the trunk of my clearly smaller Honda Accord, the girl was sleeping in the passenger seat. I drive the 15 minutes back to my house, trying not to wake the clearly exhausted passenger. When I pull into the garage to my house, I gently shake Santana awake, trying not to startle her. For a second, I see the weakness and fear in her eyes before she immediately replaces it with her tough, confident mask again.