A/N: Hello there lovely readers! I'm touched by the amount of review and followers! I hope you guys stick with me and trust that I will get this story finished. Also, if you want you can follow me on tumblr: kyssmeplz. Here I will try to update previews of chapters before I update and other story ideas I will be writing. Sorry for the delay but here is chapter two:

'Where are you?'

My phone buzzes and a text from my best friend pops up on the screen. I was currently at the end of the line at Starbucks waiting to get my coffee. I just need one venti double shot cappuccino to wake me up before I go to class and suffer 2 agonizing hours in my Renaissance Art class.

'Starbucks.'

I text her back. The line is, thankfully, moving quicker and I'm getting closer to the front of the line.

'Hurry. Professor just walked in. With a bunch of papers…'

I internally groan and rub my temple.

'Just two more customers to go and I will get my fix.'

I reply back and notice the line moving. Yes. One more person to go…

"Good Morning! What can I get you?" A cheerful redhead greets the man in front of me.

"I think…I will get a Caramel Latte." The man in front is tall and has a very perplexed expression as he squints his eyes at the menu.

"What size?" The cashier intentionally leans forward with a flirty smile.

"Uhh…what sizes are there?" Oh my god. I mentally slap my forehead and tap my foot impatiently.

"There's a tall, venti, and grande." The cashier smiles softly while twirling the ends of her hair.

He scratches the back of his head and purses his lips. I look at the time on my phone and throw my arms up. I only have 5 minutes before class officially starts.

"Uhh…" he says dumbfounded.

"The sizes are right there." I point at the display of the drink sizes that were right in front of him. "You see? That one is small, that one is medium, and that one is large." I say mockingly as if I were speaking to a child.

"Oh! Thanks!" He smiles at me brightly, clearly missing the fact that I was ridiculing him. He looks back at the cashier and grins. "I will have one grande vanilla latte!" He exclaims.

"So a vanilla latte then and not a caramel latte anymore?" The cashiers smile wanes a little.

The tall and clearly confused customer face falls. "Uhh…"

I drop my head and exhale loudly. "For the love of…just move will you! Some people actually have places to be." I groan and cross my arms.

"Ma'am, please calm down. You will be served momentarily." The girl peers over at me with a glare.

I roll my eyes. "Please, you're just being nice because you want to sleep with him." The customer raises his eyebrow and looks stupidly between us. "I actually have my order right now, so could you please step aside?"

"Sorry." He scratches his chin. "I just don't know what my friend likes…I keep forgetting. And if I get it wrong again this time she's going to kill me. Literally."

"Well, I'm sorry that you keep forgetting. But I have a class," I look at the time. "Right now. And I need my coffee or else I'm going to kill my professor for sounding completely monotonous." I push him aside and step up to the cashier.

I see her open about to rebuttal but I talk over her. "I need a venti double shot cappuccino. Stat." I shove my Starbucks card in her face and raise my eyebrow at her. "Now." She clamps her mouth shut and takes the card quickly placing my order.

"Name." She squeaks out.

"Quinn."

I stride quickly down the hall towards my class, despite there being only 30 minutes left. Opening the back door, I tiptoe my way down the aisle and slip into the seat next to my best friend.

Her head turns in my direction. "What took you so long?" She whispers.

I take a long sip of my coffee before I responded. "There was an idiot at Starbucks who didn't know his order and held the line up."

"And you couldn't just skip drinking coffee for one day?" She gives me a look.

"Tina, I wouldn't be able to function today if I didn't have coffee. You know that." I pull out my notebook from my bag and pen. "Now, what did I miss?"

The lights turn on and the Professor addresses the entire class. "We will end there today. Be ready for the exam next class. There will be two free response essays and 60 multiple choice questions based on the material we have covered so far. Most of it being heavily composed of what I emphasized today. See you next class." The Professor strokes his goatee and walks out of the classroom with his briefcase.

Tina must have noticed the look of shock on my face when she handed me her notebook. "Here, take my notes and copy them. We'll have a study session soon so don't freak out." I gratefully take her notebook and smile.

"You're the best."

We both grab our bags and exit the building, heading towards our next class in the dance studio.

"So who do you think Heather chose to teach the class on her maternity leave?" Tina ponders. "Do you think it will be someone famous? Someone who maybe toured with idols like Beyonce!" Tina swoons.

I chuckle at her dramatic antics. "I don't know, Tina. Whoever it is, I just hope they're as easygoing and fun as Heather." We walk into the locker rooms and start to strip down into sweats.

Once in our dance attire, we walk into the dance room and sit in the far corner of the room, far from the other students.

"Do you think it will be a guy instructor or a girl?" I tie my hair in a ponytail as Tina rambles on. "I hope it is a guy. A guy with beautiful abs and…"

The sound of hands clapping captures our attentions. "Hi, everyone!" A tall perky blonde skips into the room with a tall Asian man beside her.

Tina nudges me profusely. "Ohmygodheissohot." She sputters lowly.

The blonde has bright blue eyes that scans the entire room. Her eyes fall on mine and I grow uncomfortable under her lingering gaze. "I'm the temporary dance instructor Brittany! And this beautiful Asian man right here is Mike Chang! My partner!"

Tina drops her head low and sighs. "Damn."

Brittany hears the sighs of the many girls and a few guys in the room. "Oh! Not my romantic partner! Just my dance partner! I'm a lesbian!" Everyone smiles and laughs when they hear Tina's not so silent delighted squeal.

"Okay, okay. Stop oozing over our hotness. Get to your stretches." Brittany tells us as she centers herself in the middle of the dance room, stretching her legs as well.

The rest of the class consisted of intense Zumba. I think I burned more calories from doing this dance compared to when I go on my morning runs. I stepped out of the locker room and waited for Tina to get dressed. I see the dance students flocking Brittany, throwing question after question at her.

Brittany has been dancing since she was eight and been in several performances. She was even a background dancer for several top 40 music videos and apparently even toured with Beyonce. My eyes couldn't leave the blonde for some reason, something about her was so familiar. Those blue eyes reminded me of something from my distant past.

My fixation with the blue eyes are interrupted by a strong clear feminine voice. "Britt, let's go. I'm starving!" I am unable to find the face that the voice belonged to but I'm assuming it was Brittany's girlfriend due to her excited squeal.

"Santana!" My body goes stiff and the blood in my veins turn icy cold. It can't be. My eyes zoom through the heads of the doting students to see the back of a woman's head. I see her silky raven locks that fall down her back.

"Ready to go, B?" The inflection in her voice and the slight rasp spark my ears. I numbly move forward and push the other crowd of students aside trying to get closer to Brittany and…

Shit.

I end up bumping into a classmate in this nearly catatonic state of mine. We end up crashing onto the ground and his high-pitch shriek nearly deafens me for a minute. I mutter out a robotic apology and scramble off the poor boy who gets up and leaves, not without giving me a dirty look first though.

I'm still on my hands and knees as my eyes burn through the back of her head. I look at the raven-haired figure and bit my lip. Turn around. Turn around. Turn around. I beg inside my head. I watch her lift her fingertips and pull a strand of hair behind her ear. Her shoulders move and the heels of her foot begin to slowly twist around and—

"Hey Quinn!" A tall blonde man stands in front of me blocking my view. "Are you okay?"

I instantly swat his hand away and stretch my neck out to see if it was her. But all I see is the back of her head once again, along with a blonde one, intertwining their pinkies as they strolled out of the classroom.

"Uh, Quinn? You okay? Need help?" I stand up and brush my knees. I then punched the blonde in the arm really hard.

"Jeez, that hurt Quinn!" The blonde wailed.

I punched him in the arm again. "Dammit, Sam!" I growled and stomped away suddenly feeling irrationally angry.

"What did I do?" He yelled confused.

"Shhh." Her soft index fingers pushes against my lips. "There's nothing to be scared of, I'm here." She brushes her lips to my forehead and I shiver slightly.

"Can you hold me closer?" I stutter out meekly. She smiles softly and pulls me next to her.

"Better?" She asks. I nod my head against her chest.

We were both sitting beneath the Oak tree in our favorite park looking up at the stars. We were holding each other as close as possible like we always do. Like we used to.

"I missed you." I let a tear stroll down my cheeks. "You stopped calling." I cry into her chest and grip the fabric of her shirt.

Santana softly pulls away and looks me in the eye with a pained expression. "You stopped answering." She says brokenly.

My eyes flutter open and I touch the wet tears gliding down my cheeks. I prop myself up on my elbows and exhale a shaky breath.

"That's the third time this month." I haven't thought about Santana in years and now she's all I think about. Ever since that day in dance, all my thoughts have been fixated on the past and Santana.

I came to a conclusion though, that this wasn't my Santana. During dance, I would ask Brittany inconspicuous questions about the girl who appeared that day. Brittany told me that she and Santana met at cheer camp. That was the first thing that dissuade me from thinking it was the Santana from my younger days. Santana hated cheerleaders and hated the idea of ever becoming one. Then Brittany told me about a time that she watched a horror movie with her in the theater and how Santana hogged all the popcorn. Another answer that definitely ensured me this wasn't the same person. Santana hates horror movies. Even when I begged her, she wouldn't watch a horror movie with me in the theatre.

But then Brittany said something that really got me stumped.

"Santana can be mean sometimes. Like in high school, she used to say lots of mean things. But she's just really honest and she was going through a lot."

Brittany and I are stretching our legs in the back of the room, 15 minutes before class officially starts. After hearing that I think, 'Not my Santana. Santana is the sweetest girl I know.'

Brittany continues on with her story. "Even if she did things that made her look like a bad person, she isn't. She always comes through for you in the end." Her blue eyes soften and a sweet smile forms as she seems to be remembering something. "When Santana loves you, she will protect you. Fight for you. Hold you. She will love you with every single ounce of love she has." She releases a heartfelt chuckle. "And she will do anything to make you smile and feel safe."

I stop in the middle of my stretches and let everything Brittany said sink in. My head is buzzing and my chest feels tight. I knew they weren't the same person…it just didn't make sense. But after that…

And that's how it all started. I kept going to class early to talk to Brittany, learn about her life and squeeze a little more insight on this other Santana. The more I learned the more I thought of the Santana Lopez in my adolescent years. The more I daydreamed of reuniting. The more I thought about contacting her. The more I dreamt of her.

I turn to my drawer and shuffled through the contents. I pushed aside letters, books, and high school pictures to find a worn out picture from sixth grade.

It was a picture of Santana and I on the swings at our park. We were both smiling at the camera and my hand was wrapped around Santana's free hand. I still remember the warmth of her touch and the security it always gave me. God, I miss it. If I could go back I would.

But I can't. There's no point in dealing with the past and the people I lost. Because the sad truth is that we will lose people along the way whether we like it or not. I lost Santana and will never see her again. I just have to accept that. I have to stop thinking about you. Brittany's Santana isn't you. Santana is a common name. You're probably somewhere in California, probably in Los Angeles making your way to stardom. Running my finger along the contour of her face,I let myself dwell on the sweet and tender moments of our friendship one last time.

After a few minutes, I fold the picture of us in half and shove it all the way to the corner of the drawer. Just like I push every thought and memory of her and who I used to be in the back of my mind.

"Finally, the weekend." My friend Blaine walks up to me after I exit my advanced photography class. "Want to hit the club tonight?"

"I don't know…"

"Oh come on, Quinn. You've been hiding in your apartment for almost a month now. When was the last time you had fun and let loose?" He steps in front of me and crosses his arms.

"Uh…"

"Since our second-year of college." Tina enters the conversation with Sam beside her. I throw a glare at her in which she innocently shrugs her shoulders in response.

Sam clears his throat. "You never go to clubs or parties with us anymore. It's not nearly as fun without you."

"You've been too worked up with college work…" Tina starts.

"You know I have to support myself now and with everything I can't afford—" I sigh.

"I know…" Tina interjects and looks at me softly. "…but one night out with friends at the club won't do any harm."

"Exactly." Blaine throws his arm around me and grins. "Tonight we're getting all our friends together and going to the club."

"You guys," I shake my head. "I have too much on my plate right now. I have work tomorrow and I have to get to bed early. I also have a group project to worry about and I still have…"

"No. No. No." He shushes me. "Tonight, we're having fun."

I was about to rebuttal when all three of them gave me a stern look that sent a cold chill down my spine. "Fiineee." I relent.

They all holler in glee and pull me in a bone-crushing group hug. I love spending time with these guys. They're my closest friends…no they're my family. But still, I'm going to regret this somehow…

I'm regretting it.

So far, three guys have flirted with me using the most cliché and nauseating pick-up lines that I have ever heard. I had to put on my HBIC mode from high school in order to get rid of them.

Then a girl in her drunken stupor, spilled her margarita on my black dress. On my way to the restroom to clean myself up, a man elbowed me in the stomach, a women's bracelet got stuck in my hair, and I broke a heel. Needless to say, I'm not having fun at all.

Finally pushing through the sweaty bodies, I swing the women's restroom door with more force than needed. Walking into the restroom, a strong scent of marijuana and smoke entered my lungs sending me into a coughing fit.

"Shit. Are you okay?" A voice rasps out from the corner. No way…I lift open my eyes to see an indecipherable face due to the hazy smoke.

When the smoke clears, I see her features clearly under the dim lights of the restroom. I inhale sharply at how beautiful she is. Still is. Her hair is tied in a ponytail and she's wearing a white blouse, with rolled up sleeves, along with a tight miniskirt that compliments her figure. "S-sa—" I start coughing again from the unwelcomed smoke into my lungs.

I hear her curse and from the corner of my eyes I see her put the blunt out. The clicks of her heels approach me and the touch of her hand on my back has me freeze. She pats my back awkwardly and I just stand there, hunched over with my arms clutched to my stomach, looking at the unsanitary tiles of the restroom.

"Uh, hey are you still breathing?" Santana asks curiously. I bite my lip and silently sigh at the pleasant sound of her voice.

It's her. God, I can't believe it's her. I have a mini-panic attack inside my head as I contemplate on what I should say. 'Hey Santana, it's me Lucy. You know, Lucy Fabray…Lucy Caboosey.' And then something occurs to me...

"Um, hello?" Her voice laced with concern and a smidge of annoyance.

Do I even want her to remember me?

Still hunched over, I turn my head to meet her gaze. A flood of memories and emotions that I had thought I stored away, crash into me violently. Nearly knocking the air out of me once again.

Santana knits her eyebrows and inches closer.

"Do I know you?"