Sorry for the delay. I had this written weeks ago, but my grandma passed away, and then I wanted to make a few edits. Thanks so much for the feedback!

Chapter 6 – Just Dance

I awake to the coolness of my sheets wrapped around me. My head is throbbing, and I tentatively try to sit up, but realize my body would rather stay horizontal. I hesitantly turn to my side and notice that it's empty, immediately thinking/hoping that last night was a terrible dream.

"Hey," her voice is soft and full of worry, causing my heart to shatter as it lingers in my ears. My eyes flutter in the direction of its source, and I see she's slowly cleaning the pieces of glass from the bathroom floor. "How are you feeling?" she asks as she sets down the broom and walks toward me. Her hand immediately finds my forehead in a comforting gesture, allowing me to close my eyes and sigh.

"Been better," I manage to release, slowly scooting into her frame for support. She allows me to lie back down, and eases her way to rest on top of me.

There's a long pause of silence as we lay intertwined. "San, you have to tell someone. You need help." Her voice blows across my bare skin underneath the weight of her head.

I gulp and let out a breathy "I told you," as I shift uneasily beneath her. She doesn't look up at me, but instead begins to trace her fingertips across my flesh, her cheek firmly pressed against my chest.

"You didn't tell me."

"Minor detail. You know now." I retort, tangling a piece of golden hair between my fingers.

"Will you talk to me about it?" I could hear the worry in her voice, but couldn't decipher if it was worry about the issue at hand, or worry about asking the question due to my inevitable, heated response.

"I'd rather not," I whisper.

"But your pain is my pain sweetheart," she manages to say between a yawn.

"You don't know anything about my pain." The words seethe from my lips before I can stop them. Her fingers stop against my stomach as she turns and makes eye contact with me.

"I'd like to," is all she says before regaining her previous position. I expected anger, sadness, anything to show those words had hurt her, but she was being strong, like she had promised, and for that I loved her even more.

Things gradually got better. The gossip at school had moved on to the rumor of a student/teacher love affair. Brittany and I returned to our friendly duo, but our relationship remained in the closet. Even the glee kids managed to push aside the issue and act like nothing had happened. In a week's time, I had gone from the spotlight of the rumor mill back to head bitch in charge, and I began to think that my life was back on track.

"See San, no one cares. We can be together and no one will care." She smiles as I take a book from my locker and place it in my bag.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Do you remember last week and how those pictures and gossip opened the gates of hell?"

"But no one was mean to us. They just wanted the truth."

"It's none of their damn business," I shout. She retreats as my anger rises. "Sorry…it's just I'm not ready okay." I smile and she returns the favor. We clasp pinkies as we head to the choir room.

"This week's assignment is remixes," Mr. Schue began, underlining the word written on the whiteboard. "Every great song can be slightly modified in order to be relatable to your own lives. Your job is to pick a song and change it in a way that fits you."

"Isn't that plagiarism?" Rachel questions.

"We're not putting out an album," Kurt responds while rolling his eyes.

"Exactly, this is just for us," Mr. Schue continues. "Plus it will help you guys learn how to write your own songs in the future."

My hips sway to the incoherent music, one hand firmly wrapped around a red cup, the other splayed above my head. "San, what the…" I barely hear over the music as I struggle to focus my attention on the source of the words. My head spins as I catch her eyes in the crowd. It was then I realize I was the center of attention. I knew I was dancing, but I failed to remember how I got up on the table in the middle of the dark room. I guess my drunken alter ego decided it'd be a good idea to perform for these Lima losers.

She grips my wrist harshly and pulls me from the table, only to receive quite a few "boos" from the gathered crowd in the process. I giggle and continue to drink from my cup as her hands grip my waist, leading me away from the leering eyes. I felt her hands against my own flesh, forcing me to look down at myself, instantly realizing I wasn't wearing a shirt. She guides me into an empty room and closes the door.

"San…"

"I'm so glad you made it," I slur, stumbling over to her. "Let's go dance."

"I think you've done enough of that," she shoots back, and through my drunken haze I can't tell if she's angry or not.

"They'll like it better if it's both of us," I giggle, pulling at the hem of her shirt to expose her taut abs.

"So it's ok for us to be 'together' as long as we're drunk?"

I look at her confused. The last thing I want to be doing right now is trying to make sense of what she is saying. "No…I…"

"Where the hell is your shirt?"

"No clue," I shrug. Noticing my own cup was empty, I scan the room for something else to drink. Seeing a cup resting on a bookcase, I make my way over and tilt its contents into my mouth.

"San you don't know what's in that. It could be drugged for all you know."

"So," I smile coyly. "You're here now, so you can take care of me. And if it is drugged," I hiss seductively, bringing my thumb to run over her lips, "I give you permission to take full advantage of me." I finish, closing the minimal gap between us by pressing our lips together.

"That's not funny!" She practically yells, pushing me away from her. "What if I wasn't here?"

"There are plenty of other people here who would be glad to take your place."

She stares at me blankly. "So let me get this straight," she begins, taking a step back. "If I wouldn't have gotten a call from Puck to come here and save you from doing something stupid, you would have continued to get beyond wasted and let some random guy take advantage of you?"

"Well it wouldn't be 'letting' if he was taking advantage of me," I smile, but there is no joy in her icy blue eyes.

"Even though you're my girlfriend," she sees me roll my eyes, "in secret whatever, you're still mine. But you seem to have no problem having meaningless sex with a stranger."

I back away and turn so my back is facing her. "You don't know what the fuck you're talking about."

"That's right Santana, because you refuse to tell me. You refuse to let me in. You want to be my special fuck buddy devoid of feelings, is that right?" She yells and I inwardly cringe at the truthfulness of her words.

"What do you want to know then?" I challenge, raising an eyebrow as I sit down on the bed. She folds her arms across her chest and stands her ground.

"I thought you were getting better."

"I am. Honey, this is the real me. Santana mother fucking Lopez," I slur as I giggle.

"This is NOT the person I fell in love with."

"Then maybe you fell in love with the wrong person." I turn my head to avoid the pain in her eyes.

"San, stop pushing me away," she practically begs as she crosses the room and sits next to me. "Just le me in. I know you better than anyone else…"

"Oh really," the anger within bubbles to the surface and I begin to explode. "You know me huh?" I say sarcastically. "Did you know that when I was fourteen my own father told me I wasn't a good enough daughter and that's why my mom left? Did you know the reason I got these," I say harshly as I grab my chest, "is because over the summer, when we were with that football player, he paid more attention to your breasts?"

"San that's not true…" she tries to interrupt my tirade, but hot tears are flowing down my cheeks.

"Did you know that after every time we fucked last year, I went to Puck's afterwards so he could fuck away the disgust I felt?" Her eyes shudder to prevent tears. The statement isn't entirely true, but I want/need her to feel half of what I'm feeling inside. "You say you're here for me, but where were you the night of the freshman rager? Where were you then, when I needed you?" I cry.

"What do you mean? What happened at that party?" She tries to touch me to comfort me, but I pull away.

"You don't know me. You're perfect, you'll never understand what it's like to be me." I croak out between sobs.

"Make me understand," I turn and see tears in her eyes and my anger fumes again.

"No, you don't get to cry," I spit out. I pick up an empty beer bottle sitting on a night stand and hurl it across the room. The crash against the wall is barely heard over the loud music reverberating through the house. "You think everything is simple. That everything is black and white and rainbows and butterflies, but it's not. There's a whole fucking world out there Brittany, and let me tell you, there's a whole lot of gray." Tears escape her blue eyes as my harsh words hit her.

"You don't mean this," she cries, pleading with her eyes for me to calm down. Silence lingers as I locate a shard of the broken bottle. I bend to pick it up and lazily play with it between my fingers. "This isn't fucking funny anymore Santana. Stop joking around."

"Who said I was joking?" I question, placing the piece of glass against my stomach.

"If this is how you want it, then fine. You don't want to share or let me help you, fine, but I'm done. I'm not gonna watch you self-destruct. It literally kills me." And with that she's out the door before I can say anything. I drop the piece of glass as I fall to the floor, my face buried in my hands as I come undone.

She doesn't call. She doesn't text. She doesn't visit. All weekend I hear nothing from her. I can't eat. I refuse to sleep in case I miss her call. By Monday I look like a zombie, and not the cool kind like we did for the half time show. When I don't show up to school, Quinn's at my door by lunchtime, refusing to leave until I open up.

"What?" I bark, opening the front door to reveal my shell of existence.

"S…you look like shit."

"Aww thanks blondie. You look heavenly as always." I smile sarcastically before retreating toward the living room. "What are you doing here?" I ask over my shoulder.

"You weren't at school, so I was worried. I asked Brittany, but she said she hadn't talked to you, so then I got even more worried."

"Well thanks for the concern Q, but as you can see I'm perfectly fine." I stretch my arms outward before plopping on the couch.

"Santana, you are most definitely not fine." Quinn takes a seat next to me, pulling empty cans of beer from between the couch cushions.

"Want one?" I offer, extending a fresh can in her direction.

"It's barely noon."

"It's like midnight in Australia."

"Santana, what happened to you?" Got to hand it to her, she was never one for bullshitting.

"Um let's see, my parents got divorced. My mom left. I became the school's jezebel. I got demoted to the bottom of the pyramid before completely getting kicked off the squad. I became the school's gossip. Oh and I fell in love with my best friend. But not much, how bout you?" I sarcastically banter before taking a large sip of frothy liquid.

For some reason it had always been easy to talk to Quinn, I think mostly because I've known her the longest. Even though we put on this persona of fighting for the role of Queen B, I know she would never judge me. Plus, I don't love her like I love Brittany, so there's no vulnerability involved.

"Santana, she's worried sick about you. It's obvious."

"She doesn't understand."

"Give her the chance."

"I can't without telling her about that summer…"

Her hazel eyes lock with mine, and I know she immediately understands why I keep pushing Brittany away. She scoots closer to me and places a gentle hand on my thigh. "S, you have to tell her eventually. If she cares about you as much as I think she does, she's gonna wish you had told her sooner. You have nothing to be embarrassed about. It wasn't your fault."

"She's gonna look at me the way everyone else around here does. Right now she sees me differently then the rest of this sucky town, but if I tell her…"

"No she's not. And not everyone thinks you're a slut Santana."

"Rachel even said the only job I'm gonna have is working on a pole."

"She was just angry."

"Let's face it. I'm never gonna be good enough for anyone. I wasn't good enough for my mom."

"Her leaving had nothing to do with you."

"I wasn't good enough for Puck or he wouldn't have slept with you." She doesn't say anything. She knows I didn't say it to be mean to her. "I wasn't good enough for Brittany cause she chose Artie."

"But she loves you."

"I'm not smart enough, pretty enough, skinny enough, tough enough. People have already made their mind up about me. It's time I just accept it as truth." She tries to reason with me, but I shut down.

"You're stronger than you give yourself credit. Ugh, do you know how much everyone at that school would kill to be you." She waits patiently for me to change my mind, but when I don't budge, she hesitantly leaves to return to school.

The school calls my father about my absence, and somehow he finds time in his "busy" schedule to make sure I go to school on Tuesday. Unbeknownst to him, I make sure my bag is amply supplied with enough alcohol to last the day.

I make my way into the choir room as all eyes land on me. I stumble slightly as I walk to my seat thanks to the amount of liquor I've already managed to consume. I catch a glimpse of disappointment on Quinn's face, but I refuse to make eye contact with anyone else. When Mr. Schue enters, he asks if anyone would like to share their remix. I notice that everyone is looking at me, and I assume that the rest of them went yesterday.

"Yeah okay," I mumble before making my way to the floor. I know I'm swaying and stumbling more than I should be at school, but no one says anything, as they should.

The piano begins and I close my eyes, causing the room to spin a little. "I've had a little bit too much. All of the people start to rush by. A dizzy, twisted dance, can't find my drink or man, where are my keys, I lost my phone." I open my eyes to see Quinn looking very concerned. It obviously doesn't take long for them all to notice I'm not exactly sober.

"Just dance, gonna be ok, been here before. Just dance, spin that record babe, loud on the floor. Just dance, can't hear my phone when you don't call. Just dance, dance, just dance."

I turn so I'm facing the board and sway slightly. I have to steady myself on the piano to keep me from falling over. "Wish I could shut my playboy mouth. I let you turn me inside out. Control your poison babe, roses have thorns they say. Tonight we'll dance away the pain." I turn facing them once more, but decide it's best to keep my eyes closed.

"What's going on, on the floor. I love this record baby, but I can't think straight anymore. Keep it cool, what'd the name of this club. I can't remember, but it's alright." The beat picks up and I start to gyrate, allowing the words and rhythm to completely take me over. "Just dance, gonna be ok, been here before. Just dance, spin that record babe, loud on the floor." I'm suddenly spinning in circles, losing all sense of reality. "Just dance, can't hear my phone, when you don't call. Just dance, dance, dance, dance, just dance."

I stop and finally stare at her, forcing my eyes to stay fixed on her. "Jump for my chance to be hardcore, I lost my mind on the dance floor. I know that the time is past four, but who cares cause my heart is a dark force, to be reckoned with. Never give love to a pretty girl with a negative outlook. There's no such thing as a friend no benefits. So sweet, so elegant, so weak, so intelligent. I forget like the night is my last night, and the past nights mean nothing. So I lose my composure, lost in space cause my world's over." A single tear escapes my eye and I turn to wipe it away.

"Just dance, gonna be ok, been here before. Just dance, spin that record babe, loud on the floor. Just dance, can't hear my phone, when you don't call. Just dance."

I find her again as I continue my dancing in circles, and her eyes are glistening in the light from the amount of tears welled inside. "I'm spinning, I'm spinning, spinning. I'm spinning with the feeling inside." Our eyes stay locked as my own begin to lose their composure. "I'm spinning but the feeling won't die. I'm shaking, but the pain is still here. I'm dancing but it won't disappear." As the last words leave my mouth, I take one last look at her before running from the room.

"You need to talk to her," Quinn whispers in the vacant bathroom.

"I can't," I manage to whimper between sobs. I sat folded in on myself against the wall, my face buried in my hands. I could feel my mascara caked to my cheeks.

"Why?" Her voice is fragile and hesitant. I could hear her pacing slightly across the tiled floor.

"Because the last thing I said to her was pretty fucked up." My chest rises and falls as I sigh deeply, wiping my cheeks with the back of my hand. She waits patiently for my breathing to return to normal before crouching down next to me.

"Can I ask you a question?" She looks at me sincerely, and I nod appropriately. "And no more bullshit." I nod again. "What exactly do you want from her?" Immediately seeing my facial reaction she continues, throwing her hands in the air defensively. "Listen, I'm friends with both of you, and even though I've known you longer, all I want is for you both to be happy. And if you can't give her what she needs, don't keep stringing her along with false hope S, that's not fair. If you do love her as much as I think you do, then you need to prove it to her. Cause this hot and cold game is very selfish."

Her hazel eyes pierce mine as her heavy words force out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. All I could manage was a weak, "I do love her Q, but I'm scared."

"What are you so scared of?" Her hand grips my thigh sympathetically. "She loves you, isn't that enough?"

"Of course it is," I sigh, trying to find the words. "I'm scared of what everyone else will say about me."

"You need to stop caring about what others think."

"Says the girl who made a glist just to prove she was still hot."

"That was so last year," she mocks, rolling her eyes. We exchange smiles before she wraps her arm around me, allowing me to lean my head against her shoulder. "Besides, are you really going to let some homophobic losers from a small town in the middle of nowhere push you around and prevent you from being with someone you love? The Santana Lopez I know would never allow that."

"I haven't been that girl in a long time," I breathe.

"Well then I think it's time she returns to Lima." Quinn's voice subsides the sadness within, but as her hand begins rubbing soothing circles on my arm, the fabric of my shirt irritates my hacked skin, sending a jolt through my body. My passion for this feeling ignites, and my stomach begins to flip in anticipation for the chance of release once I get home.

Sensing my rigidity within her grasp, Quinn places a hesitant pat to my arm. "S, besides the obvious with Brittany, is there anything else going on? Because you know you can talk to me right? If there were..."

"Yeah I know...thanks...but everything's fine." I muster up a smile to go along with my blatant lie. But having one person knowing about my extracurriculars was already one too many.

Song: Just Dance by Gary Go (look it up, it's amazing!)