AN: Thanks again for the reviews so far. Remember critiques are welcome too. If you think I could expand on something or have any suggestions I'd love to hear them.
Santana dropped her backpack on the floor of her room. The evening yawned a black hole before her. There was no way she was going to be able to sit here tonight, alone. She knew without a doubt that if she did, she'd do something violent. Whereas only yesterday, inactivity had been her friend it now served only to allow her time to feel the rage and disgust filling up her body. 'Fuck that,' she thought to herself as she scrolled though the contacts on her phone. It only took a few texts to discover that there was a party tonight in a neighboring town. Santana was going to go get her drink on and let the deafening music and inane pick up lines distract her from herself for the night.
It took no time at all for her to change into a tight black top and skinny jeans. She ran some mousse and a blow dryer through her hair and darkened the make-up around her eyes. One pair of low-heeled sandals later and she was ready.
It took twenty minutes to get herself to the party. She could feel the bass vibrating in her stomach twenty feet from the house. She knew the chances were slim that she'd run into anyone from McKinley here and that thought brought a smile to her face. She didn't need anyone holding her back tonight.
The current party was being hosted by a bunch of frat boys from the community college, if you would even consider a group of drunk idiots from a community college 'frat boys.' They had the moves down though: huge house full of wasted college boys and equally wasted high school girls- check; music so loud you couldn't hear the person standing next to you even when they yelled-check; disgusting kitchen piled high with cheap wine, cheap beer and empty pizza boxes- check. Yes, the perfect recipe for Santana to get wasted off her ass.
And she proceeded to do just that. A few shots of Cuervo and she was feeling fuzzy, a few more of cheap whiskey and she found herself on the dance floor surrounded by a group of guys who seemed unable to take their eyes from her sinuous body. The weight of their stares caused fingers of panic to flare in her stomach and drove her from the dance floor in search of more booze. Half a bottle of vodka later and Santana was just barely aware of making out with some meathead and stumbling upstairs to pass out in someone's bedroom. Usually she went to parties like this with Brittany or at least when Puck was around and it would be at this point that whoever was the least drunk would scrape the other off the floor and call a taxi home. She and Brittany usually kept each other safe from falling unconscious into a stranger's bed and waking up to wandering hands belonging to some guy who had more alcohol than blood running through his veins and thinking your choosing his room to pass out in was in some way an invitation for him to grope you.
Unfortunately, she'd chosen this party because she knew no one there, so when she blinked her eyes open in the predawn hours to find some asshole's hand on her ass, she had no one to blame but herself. Again. Thankfully, the hand's owner was snoring away and didn't even twitch when Santana threw the offending appendage off her butt and stumbled out the door. She took mental stock of herself and the fact that her clothes were still intact and properly placed was a good sign that nothing else had happened while she was passed out. The possibilities of what could have gone down came too easy to her mind and Santana found herself forcing down the bile that rose in her throat with a steely resolve. She was pretty much sober and she only had a few hours to get home and change before school started, so she made her way to her car and let her mind go on auto-pilot for the drive home.
She pulled up to her empty house a little while later. She wasn't sure exactly where her parents were- working odd hours or gone on vacation- both scenarios left her in the same place, unlocking a door at five in the morning with no one to care that she'd been gone all night.
Santana grabbed a shower, a change of clothes and a few gulps from the vodka bottle she kept stashed next to her bed. She was well aware of how shitty she was going to feel in a few hours when the rest of the alcohol wore off and the hangover kicked in. She was going to put that off as long as she could, and if that meant going to school a bit tipsy, so be it. Wouldn't be the first time.
The circles under her eyes took a bit more work to cover this morning, but by the time she needed to leave she considered herself presentable. The school day was predictably uneventful, but unfortunately the growing headache and sleepless night left Santana lashing out at everyone who had the misfortune of crossing her path. She'd actually been inches away from shoving some freshman who was walking too slowly in front of her into the nearby lockers when Brittany fell in step beside her.
"Where were you last night? I tried calling you. Lord Tubbington learned to do the hula and he wanted to show you." Brittany said. She was constantly trying to get Santana and Lord Tubbington to be friends, but the cat had taken an irrational dislike to the Latina. For her part, Santana kept her distance whenever he was in the room. She actually liked cats in theory. They weren't as needy as dogs (and boys), and they didn't need to be taken outside at the butt-crack of dawn when there was five feet of snow on the ground to shit. Cats came over when they wanted attention and then left when they were done. Nothing to find fault with there. So why Brittany's cat constantly clawed at her when she got too close and ran from her approaching footsteps was a mystery.
"Sorry, I got bored and went to a party over in Findlay," Santana said, losing interest in the freshman.
"Oh, well maybe you want to come over tonight and see? Artie's spending the evening with the boys at Finn's, so I thought we could have a girl night." Her voice lowered, "I miss you."
"I'm right here Brittany, I see you all the time." Santana snapped, "And while it's nice to know I'm good enough to hang out with when the cripple is busy, I actually have plans for the night." She didn't really, but she wasn't about to admit that to Brittany.
Instead of looking hurt, Brittany looked even more concerned that she had yesterday, "Are you all right, San? You look kind of tired, and you're only this mean to me when something really bad has happened. I'm your best friend, you can tell me."
Brittany had always had the uncanny ability to see through the bitch, it was one of the big reasons why they'd become friends in the first place, but right now that ability was completely unwelcome.
"Actually Brittany, that's bullshit. If you were really my best friend you would have dumped no-legs in a second, but you didn't. So, thanks for the concern friend, but I'd prefer it if you mind your own business."
And for the second time in as many days Santana left her best friend standing alone in the hall.