Santana knew she probably should have been looking for Artie like everyone else was, but she had other things to worry about. After all, Artie was the main reason why she wasn't with Brittany, and she couldn't care less about what could have happened to him.
So instead, Santana was in the school auditorium, sitting on the stage, just thinking. It wasn't like her to want to be alone; she usually preferred finding someone to insult or degrade, but today she just wanted to soak herself in lonely thoughts- the kind of thoughts that follow you everywhere you go, no matter how hard you try to let go of them. Her vision was impossible. Not just unlikely, not just something she'd have to act upon to make work. It was just completely out of the question. Brittany would never reciprocate the feelings Santana had for her enough for her to leave Artie.
Okay, so maybe she didn't actually want to be thinking these thoughts, but that's exactly what she was doing when she heard the back doors of the auditorium creak open and fall back to shut.
"Hello?" she called out to the air. She couldn't tell who was there because the lights, although dimly lit, were shining in her eyes.
For a minute, there was no response. Santana started to feel like an idiot. She was probably just really paranoid and worried about someone walking in on her sitting alone, borderline crying. But suddenly, a soothing voice returned the call.
"Santana," Quinn's light voice was softer than Santana's but traveled through the auditorium just as easily. "Well, I guess Artie isn't in here then, huh."
Santana shook her head as Quinn walked closer to the stage. "I have no idea where he is," she replied, trying to less depressed than she felt. She held her chin up higher and improved her posture to make it look like she was more alert.
Quinn laughed. "Neither does anyone else, apparently." she walked up the steps leading to the stage but Santana didn't turn to look at her. Quinn slowly crossed to the middle of the stage where Santana was and sat down next to her.
"Do we have a song yet?" Santana asked, deliberately trying to change the subject. Thinking about Artie made her think about Brittany, and thinking about Brittany made her sadness worse.
Quinn shrugged. "I didn't get the time to talk with Brittany about it."
Okay, so maybe that was a bad topic to discuss too. What was something she could bring up that had nothing to do with Brittany at all? Brittany was involved in nearly every aspect of her life in some way.
Luckily, Quinn had something to say.
"This is going to be the most awkward thing I've ever asked anyone, but I really feel like I have to."
Santana turned towards her, glad that she had finally said something to break the silence. Whatever it was couldn't be that bad. Right?
"Sure, what is it?" Santana smiled, relieved.
Quinn opened to mouth to say something, but quickly closed it again. "Are…" she began. "Are you-" she started again. She paused for a moment, reconsidering her choice of words. "Do you think that…" her voice trailed off. "Sorry," she smiled weakly "I don't know what I'm doing."
Santana raised her eyebrows. "Seriously, what is it?"
Quinn nervously played with her thumbs and didn't say anything for a moment. "Well, I was just wondering," she started again. "I just- well, you seem like-" she cut herself off again.
Santana was starting to catch on to what Quinn was implying and she started to panic. Had she really made it that obvious that she was gay? She used everything in her power to conceal it from the world. Even Quinn, one of her best friends. The only person that knew was Brittany, and she had intended on keeping it that way until she was out of high school. Or maybe even college. Or maybe even forever. She held her breath as Quinn's next words came.
"I'll just say it," Quinn said strongly. "I like you, Santana."
Wait. What?
"You…? Yeah, I know? We've only been friends for how many years now?" Santana recalled, puzzled. She didn't know what Quinn meant by 'like'.
Quinn shook her head. "No, that's not what I mean," she continued. "I… really like you."
Holy shit. That was unexpected.
"But I thought you had to ask me something," Santana regretted saying it the second it came out of her mouth.
"Yeah," Quinn started playing with her thumbs again. "The reason I even told you that is because I was wondering if you were…" her voice trailed off again.
If Santana was what? A lesbian? Deeply closeted? Madly in love with Brittany S. Pierce? Because all of those things would potentially be answered 'yes, absolutely'.
"Homophobic." Quinn finished at last.
"Homophobic?" Santana repeated. She began to laugh a little. "No, Quinn, definitely not. In fact, I'm pretty-" she stopped herself, deciding not to reveal her secret. "accepting."
Quinn nodded. Her nervousness had left her face and hands, and she was leaning towards Santana now rather than giving Santana a lot of space.
"I just thought you should know… I wasn't expecting you to fall into my arms and say, 'Oh Quinn, I've loved you for years! I'm so glad you told me!' because that's just unrealistic. And I'm okay with that." Quinn followed up on her previous statements. She was worried that Santana wouldn't want to be friends with her or something.
"Nah, it's okay. Seriously, don't worry about it."
"Okay, good," Quinn took a deep breath. "So, we should probably look for Artie."
Santana shrugged. She really didn't feel up to it. Now, in addition to having to deal with her own feelings towards Brittany, she had to ignore the ones that Quinn had for her.
That's when she realized, what if Quinn felt the same way about her the way she felt about Brittany? What if Quinn woke up every morning and her first thought was 'Santana'? What if when she was daydreaming in math class, it was about the two of them on a date? Or when Quinn sang love songs in Glee, she thought of Santana the whole time she performed? Santana quickly started panicking again. She loved Quinn, but not in that kind of way, and she didn't want Quinn to get the wrong impression from Santana's acceptance of her.
"Actually," Santana stood up and brushed off her skirt. "I gotta go. See you tomorrow." she hastily fled the auditorium.
And so Quinn was left alone, in the middle of the stage, with nothing to think about but how Santana would never return her feelings. How alone she was. How much she'd give anything to be with her.