Thanks so much for the reviews. I'm so excited for this story, and I hope I do it justice. Just to clarify, current couples are Finn/Rachel, Quinn/Sam, Mike/Tina, Artie/Brittany. Puck and Santana continue to full around, but aren't dating. Also, Lauren is not going to be in this story. I LOVE her character, but I need Puck and Santana to be sex buddies. Also, Kurt never left New Directions, so there is no Blaine. Hopefully that takes away any confusion, the rest is supposed to be a mystery that you'll figure out as the story continues. Please continue to express your thoughts and concerns :) So without further ado...
Chapter Two – White Blank Page
"San?" I heard the familiar nickname being called from the downstairs. It was customary that Brittany would spend the night when dad was working the ER shift, which happened to be four nights of the week. Her bouncing body appeared in my doorway seconds later, however she wasn't alone.
"What is she doing here?" I immediately barked, not necessarily angry that she was here, but more so that she thought she had the right to be here.
"San," Brittany immediately pleaded, those blue eyes melting away any anger that I had previously harbored.
"Whatever," I rolled my eyes as I continued to apply a fresh coat of black nail polish to my toenails.
"I'm solely here to make sure the three of us come up with a suitable routine for tomorrow. You've already managed to piss Coach off once this week. If we fail to produce something that she deems worth while, I can guarantee all three of us will make up the bottom of the pyramid at Nationals." Quinn breathed as she took in her surroundings. It had been a few months since she had been here, and I'm sure the new decorations failed to go unnoticed.
My mind raced to the memories the three of us had in here when we were younger. My walls had been pink then, each piece of furniture displaying various girly activities, especially cheerleading. Now, my walls were black, a Bob Marley poster hung on the wall above my bed. Citizen Cope played nonchalantly in the background, as a stick of incense burned on my desk. The environment proved to be hard for her to take in, cause her posture immediately looked uneasy, signaling she felt awkward and out of place. We once had so much in common, but the look in her eyes proved we no longer shared anything. Except for the other blonde in the room.
Brittany made herself at home, lounging gracefully on my bed. She had never questioned me when I decided on the new décor, and she even helped me paint and redecorate. I continued to sit Indian-style on the floor doing my nails, as Quinn hesitantly took a seat at my desk.
"What do you have in mind?" I hissed, refusing to acknowledge her comment about my earlier display of 'disrespect'.
"No clue. I was hoping one of you had a suggestion."
"I think we should do Ke$ha," Brittany replied, playing with a strand of gold by her face. She was breathtakingly adorable, and I had to physically force myself to look away in order to continue to participate in the conversation. "Or Gaga. Maybe Britney?"
"Coach hates Britney Spears, remember what happened when we sang Toxic at the assembly?" Quinn promptly interceded. "So I doubt she's gonna like Gaga or Ke$ha."
"She loves Madonna though," Brittany added with excitement.
"We did a Madonna routine last year Brit." Quinn offered apologetically.
I sat in silence as I listened to them banter back and forth, usually Brit offering an artist or song, and Quinn turning it down as nicely as she could. My nails were dry, and I was bored. More importantly, from the moment I saw Brit enter with her boy shorts and tank top, I wanted her all to myself. It was never my thing to have an audience, and the presence of the shorter blonde at my desk was suddenly aggravating me. I knew she wasn't going to leave until we had a routine.
"Q, remember the routine we did in 7th grade at Summer Camp?" I interrupted.
Her attention refocused on me, slightly taken back from my outburst. "Yeah, why?"
"I think that would work perfectly to Rihanna's new song, don't you think?" I quirked my eyebrow, expecting her to challenge me, but was elated when I received a nod of approval. "Great! So why don't you edit the music for the routine, and I'll teach it to Brit later tonight." It was more of a statement than a question. Lucky for her, Quinn got the hint.
"Sounds good. I'll see you guys tomorrow," she added as her tiny frame exited my room, followed by the sound of the front door seconds later.
I took no time to wait for her approval, and quickly leapt from my spot on the floor and planted my lips to hers. She had used the perfume that I bought her for Christmas, selfishly only getting it so I could specifically smell it on her, and the scent alone caused my knees to buckle and I flattened her to the bed abruptly. She gasped, and I took this opportunity to thrust my tongue inside her angelic lips. She willingly accepted, and a smirk played at the corner of my mouth. My hands managed to roam toward her face, and immediately they were tangled in her golden locks.
"San," she breathed, unable to find her voice as it was lost in pleasure.
"Hmm," I mumbled against her lips, smiling, and returning to work.
"What's wrong?" she asked hesitantly. The sincerity and worry caught me by surprise, and I instantly tried to play it off as nothing by kissing my way across her jaw line. "I'm serious." She half-yelled to get my attention as well as keep herself from giving in to me.
"Am I doing something you don't like?" I teased, allowing my tongue to grace her pulse point on her neck. She shuddered beneath me at the contact. A few seconds later, her palms compressed against my shoulders, and she pushed back, physically separating us. "What the hell Brittany?" I snapped, and at once regretted it.
Her eyes darted away from my stare. "I can't do this," her voice barely audible as she was obviously afraid of upsetting me any further.
"Yes you can." I dove back to her, greedily needing her lips to save me.
Her hands flew up in protest, and I angrily removed myself from her and went back to the floor. I dove into the new issue of Cosmo with a huff. Silence lingered awkwardly, the only sound coming from her subtle movements as she shifted her position. It wasn't until her feet were firmly planted on the floor that I realized she had been collecting her things in preparation to leave. "I just remembered I promised my sister that I'd watch a movie with her tonight." She fumbled with her words, and I looked up in horror.
Traces of tears lingered at the corners of her eyes, and my heart broke at the sight. I had obviously hurt her, but instead of consoling her, I hardened my heart, straightened my posture, and nodded in vague understanding. "See you tomorrow," I uttered as I drew my attention back to the article that I was pretending to read. I was being a bitch, and it was uncalled for, but that was my role. Santana Lopez. Bitch.
She remained standing by the bed, I'm assuming that she was hoping I'd change my ways, apologize, talk to her. But I didn't. I stood my ground, and she left defeated.
I hated myself even more, if that were possible. She was only caring, and it wasn't like she was wrong in assuming something. But these were my problems to deal with; I couldn't live with myself if she knew the truth. Too many emotions were causing my head and heart to throb in pain, and I desperately needed to rid myself of feeling. I walked in a daze toward my adjacent bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. Stuffed discretely behind facial cleansers was what I needed. Hoisting my left sleeve above my elbow, I watched as a single tear trickled down my cheek as my feelings evaporated with ease.
As I entered school the next morning, I made sure my signature smirk was placed across my face. I strutted down the halls in my uniform, the ruffles of the skirt swaying slightly with every step. My fingernails were sporting black polish, which matched my smoky eye makeup. Each strand of my dark hair was pulled neatly into a ponytail, the ends curled to perfection. No one dared to look me in the eyes, my role as bitch in charge securely in place once more.
I greeted Brit at her locker, linking my pinky with hers before she could protest, and pulled her toward the choir room. She knew this gesture meant that yesterday never happened. We took our seats, pinkies still clasped, as Mr. Schue entered. "Well this weeks assignment of emotions is just about over, and I was thinking that we could do a group number as its finale." Of course Rachel and Finn responded with matching smiles and handclaps.
"I have the perfect number," Rachel insisted.
"Actually I've already picked it," Mr. Schue countered.
"Please not Journey, please not Journey." Kurt mumbled as he crossed his fingers.
Mr. Schue began to hand out the sheet music, pausing to watch Rachel's skeptical reaction. "I don't see how this has to do with this week's assignment." She hissed, glancing a look at the other members for their approval.
"Are you kidding?" Artie argued.
"Yeah this song is laced with emotion," Tina chimed in smiling at her ex. Artie hesitantly smiled back before reverting his gaze.
"It's like the ultimate song of heartbreak and pain." Kurt smiled; I'm assuming he hoped to get the male solo.
"I cried the first time I heard it." Everybody's attention warped to Sam. "What? It's a really good song," he defended, a small blush rising to the surface of his cheeks. Quinn quickly placed a comforting hand on his thigh and squeezed lightly.
I chuckled and rolled my eyes at his obnoxiousness and returned my gaze to the person whose finger I still grasped. I caught her gaze and realized she had been staring at me. I smiled shyly before turning back to Mr. Schue as he announced who would sing which parts.
The music began as Quinn, Brit, and I sucked in air and hoped that Sue would be impressed with our routine. Since Brittany had left last night, I had to convince Quinn to teach her the routine during lunch today. When asked why I couldn't do it, I lied about having to talk to the crazy guidance counselor about how my home life's been since my parents got divorced and crap. We moved through each step flawlessly as Rihanna's S&M blared from the speakers, the rest of the squad littering the bleachers. We ended with smiles, waiting anxiously for her response.
She stood in silence for what seemed like hours before lifting the bullhorn to her mouth. "Not impressed, but good enough for our starter for Nationals." Our grins grew broader as we began to move from our ending positions. "However," there it was, the criticism we knew all too well. "Next time you plan on looking and acting like members of a team, I better see matching uniforms," she barked before handing her bullhorn to Becky and motioning for the rest of the girls to quickly learn the routine.
The three of us glanced confusingly at one another, until we realized the source of her comment. I had been wearing my white underarmour top underneath my vest, and they were not. They stared at me, relaying with their eyes for me to remove it before we performed the routine with the squad. "I'm not taking it off." It wasn't an accident that I had put it on this morning, nor was there a chance in hell I was taking it off. I didn't see what the big deal was; this was only practice, who cared if I had an extra article of clothing on.
"Did you not just hear her?" Quinn shot at me. "Take it off now!"
"Um, let me think…how bout I don't, and the rest of you put yours on. It's still like 40 degrees outside, so instead of looking like winter prostitutes, maybe you should cover yourself up."
Quinn held my gaze in an unnecessary stare down. "I'm captain, and I say take the damn thing off." Her words laced with furry at my notion of thinking I was in charge and had the right to decide what we wore.
"Honey, just cause you're captain, doesn't make you queen of this school. That is earned." I smirked, arching my eyebrow for her to challenge me.
"Oh is that why you sleep with every body loitering the hallways? I didn't realize being a slut meant queen!"
My hand connected with her face before her words had the chance to hang in the air. It was the second time I had slapped her this year, and this time it felt even better. I wanted to take out all my anger toward her, Sue, Mr. Schue, glee club, myself, on her. She turned back toward me, and I slapped her again, this time on her other cheek. She turned to fight back, pushing me hard, almost causing me to lose my balance and fall to the floor. I shoved back, but her hands connected with my ponytail and she yanked so hard I thought I felt chunks of my extensions leave my scalp. I screamed as I in turn pulled at her blonde locks. Brittany's hands tugged at both of our shoulders, pulling us apart with ease. Damn her and her freaking dancing muscles. I wasn't near done rearranging Quinn's face.
Before I knew it, Coach Sylvester was standing over us, pushing both of us back with enough force to knock us off our feet. "What the hell is wrong with you two?" She seethed, disgust spitting at us on the floor. "If I wanted fighting cheerios I would have put hyenas on the squad. They'd look a lot better in those damn uniforms, and they'd sure as hell dance a lot better!" I scowled back at her, seething with just as much rage. Quinn fucking started it. Quinn was the fucking captain. She should be the only one getting yelled at right now. "One of you desperate housewives wannabes better tell me what's going on before I kick you both of my squad."
"It seems Ms. Perfect has a problem with taking orders." I jeered, rolling my eyes for a greater effect.
"Listen here jellyfish chest, I appointed Q for the simple fact that she's my second in command." This was not going to end well. "Therefore if I'm not barking orders at you losers, then she better be because it's obvious this squad needs some form of dictatorship or it becomes the next installment of Jerry Springer."
"In case you haven't noticed, it takes two to fight, and I'm pretty sure I wasn't ripping my own hair out." I shot back, knowing very well I was crossing so many lines.
She hesitated, obviously shocked by my blatant disrespect for authority at the moment. "I think both of you can learn something from a two week suspension from my squad of winners."
"But Coach," Quinn began, but the look on Coach's face told her that her decision was final, and she walked away with Becky nipping at her heels like her personal Chihuahua. I stood up to leave, but was halted when Quinn began shouting at me. "Just because you're going through a midlife crisis does not mean you have to drag me to hell with you." I turned around and saw the tears leaking from her hazel eyes. Being the cheerio captain meant everything to her, possibly more than it meant to me.
"Whatever, maybe you should learn to listen to me next time." I rolled my eyes as I turned to walk away, Brittany following suit, I assume right after giving Quinn an apologetic look for me.
The music began as we took our places on the stage. Rachel stepped forward singing, "Can you lie next to her, and give her your heart, your heart, as well as your body."
Then Quinn walked up next to her, singing the next line, "And can you lie next to her and confess your love, your love, as well as your folly."
Everyone's gaze shifted to Mercedes as she began singing, "And can you kneel before the king and say I'm clean, I'm clean."
Mercedes walked over to Kurt, as Rachel started singing again, "But tell me now where was my fault, in loving you with my whole heart?"
This time, Quinn joined Rachel as they both sang, "But tell me now where was my fault, in loving you with my whole heart?"
As the music interlude continued, we moved swiftly between one another, subtle dancing as Mr. Schue had put it in the directions.
Puck and Sam harmonized as Finn sang, "A white blank page, and a swelling rage, rage."
Mercedes harmonized for Kurt as he sang, "You did not think, when you sent me to the brink, the brink."
I harmonized as Brittany sang, "You desired my attention, but denied my affections, my affections." As I heard her angelic voice sing these words, I almost laughed at how ironic her chosen section of the song had been. I secretly wondered if she had noticed how true her solo was for the two of us.
Tina stepped forward and began to sing, "So tell me now where was my fault, in loving you with my whole heart?"
Artie wheeled toward, and joined her as they sang, "Oh tell me now where was my fault, in loving you with my whole heart?"
The second musical interlude began, and we continued with our 'subtle dancing'. All of us sang the bridge of melodious "Ahhs". As the rest of them continued with their harmonies, I stepped forward and began to sing my chosen solo, "Lead me to the truth and I, will follow you with my whole life. Oh lead me to the truth and I, will follow you with my whole life."
Mike danced eloquently as the last musical interlude played, us swaying effortlessly behind him. We finished the song with all of us belting out another round of "Ahhs," swiftly bowing our heads as the music ended.
Besides my suspension from cheerios, which I didn't really care all that much about, I was right about today being a much better today. No one asked what was wrong, nor did I get any ridiculous looks of concern. Hiding was becoming easier every day, and I was pleased at this realization, as well as a little scared at how simple it was to create such a life that was a complete lie.