The following Monday at school looked just like any day in the life of one Santana Lopez. Classes, lunch, being a bitch to everyone, Mr. Shue telling the club to find a song that express their feelings and all that crap. She knew that soon Brittany would say something strange, and then she would go to cheerios practice and hold about 500 pounds of cheerleaders on her shoulders.
But it wasn't the same. Every time she glanced at Brittany, every time her friend said something, and every time people responded to the random things she said, Santana was reminded of the conversation they had on Saturday. She wanted to scream at her peers for thinking that Brittany was just a stupid blonde cheerio, nothing more.
But she knew Brittany wouldn't want that.
So she refrained from sending any caring glances towards her friend, or telling anyone what Brittany was going through.
She felt ignorant, knowing all this stuff about Brittany's life but doing nothing, pretending nothing was even happening. Santana knew she should eventually tell someone.
But not today.
All this thinking took a lot of time, and when Santana woke from her drifting thoughts, she saw everyone in the glee club staring at her. She figured Mr. Shue had asked her a question or something.
"Oh, right, what was that?" she asked.
"Mr. Shue didn't ask you a question, we were all staring at you because you didn't make any snarky comments to Rachel when she started being obnoxious," Artie responded. Rachel and Finn glared at him.
"Oh yeah- uhh, you're a dwarf, Rachel." It came out half-heartedly.
Then someone went up to the front of the room to sing because they couldn't find the right words to say to one of the glee clubbers. Or something like that, Santana wasn't really paying attention.
At the end of glee club, Santana was supposed to be heading to cheerios practice, but as she headed out the door she turned towards the guidance counselor office. She didn't know what she would say there. "Hi Miss Pillsbury, Brittany's being physically abused by her father. Bye."
Santana knew that she wouldn't really care if it were any of the other glee clubbers who were being abused. Hell, she wouldn't care if it were anyone else in this entire school. If it had been Rachel who had confided something like that in her, she would have literally laughed in her face. Cruel, but true.
But she still walked towards Mrs. Pillsbury-Howell's office. Santana stood there like a rock before finally opening the door.
Sure enough, there the guidance counselor was, squirting a big glop of hand sanitizer into her hands. "Oh, Santana, what is it? You never come see me."
"Yeah, well… it's not exactly about me…" Santana began.