I loved a girl

by esunaverguenza

Slightly AU. Santana has never been able to be herself, but her life is destined to change when a new girl comes to her school.

5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

I closed the door of the clammy locker room with a relieved sigh, happy to be out of there and away from the prying eyes of the other Cheerios. I knew they were confused about why their head cheerleader had just stood up for some new girl, but they all were too scared to ask me why. Being the head cheerleader had its advantages. I grinned at that thought when I rummaged through my bag, looking for my class schedule. When I saw that my next class would be Spanish, I silently cursed myself for choosing Spanish instead of French. Now I had Spanish, which was with Brittany. I debated just skipping the lesson, but that would be the third lesson I'd skip that week, and it was only Tuesday, so instead I dragged myself to my locker to get my books. When I opened it, my eye fell to a photo of me and Quinn pasted to the back wall of my locker. The picture had been taken in our freshman year. We both looked so young, Quinn's eyes seemed so much brighter than they were now, sparkling with joy. The only times I would see that sparkle now was whenever she felt the envious glances of the other girls burning into her back. I swallowed when I realized how much my best friend had changed.

"Santana, are you coming?"

I woke from my thoughts by Mister Schuester's voice, sounding hollow in the empty hall. I tore my gaze from the picture and whipped my head around and saw Mister Schue standing at the other end of the hall. He held the door to his classroom open, waiting for me to come in.

"Yeah, sure. Coming," I replied, then closed my locker and walked into the classroom.

I didn't see Puck's horny smirk, Rachel's widened eyes or Finn's dumb expression when I entered the room, instead my eye fell instantly on the blonde sitting in the back. Even from where I stood, in the front of the classroom, I could see the tearstains on her cheeks.

She was looking out of the window, the palm of her hand cradling her face. I saw she was clenching her jaw, probably to fight any more tears. I took a deep breath to steady myself, and then walked through the isle to the back. Her eyes blinked to me once, before turning back to the window again. I cleared my throat and sat down, feeling a bit uncomfortable.

In front of me, Puck turned around and gave me a quick wink. "Hey babe." Then he nodded his head curtly towards Brittany and raising one eyebrow, as if to say "what the hell is wrong with her?"

I just looked at him with a disgusted look on my face, "turn around, Puckerman." He gave me a questioning look, but then obliged.

All the while the blonde girl next to me still hadn't moved. I allowed myself to steal a quick glance and when I saw her sad face, along with the unshed tears brimming in her eyes, I felt my insides twist. I felt the heat creep up my cheeks when I suddenly realized I felt a really strong need to say something. Anything. So I took a deep breath and cleared my throat, then made sure that no one could hear me talk to her, but a quick look around the classroom told me that everyone was listening intently to Mister Schuester talking about adjectives or something.

I turned my body slightly towards her before I spoke. "Are… Are you okay?" It came out shaky, almost nervous. Maybe that was because I was nervous. But that didn't make sense. I had nothing to be nervous about, but one way or another this girl seemed to bring out feelings inside of me no one else had ever done.

I saw her tense when I started speaking, but she recovered rather quickly and turned her head away from the window, locking her gloomy eyes with mine. I felt chills run all over my body when a small smile formed at her lips and the sadness in her eyes seemed to dissipate a bit.

"Yeah…," she cleared her throat before continuing, "I'm fine. Thank you. That was nice of you." Her voice sounded so small, so breakable.

I averted my eyes to my bag, reaching into it and finding a package of tissues. I pulled one out and offered it to her. "Here, wipe your eyes," it sounded a bit strange, coming from me, but she didn't seem to care, because her smile grew wider, showing me a white row of perfect teeth.

Seeing her smile made me feel a smile of my own tug at my lips. And honestly, it scared the shit out of me. I didn't know her, she didn't know me, I didn't know what she was up to, and here she was, the new girl I had only known for a week or two, plastering a smile on my face.

Maybe Quinn is right, maybe she does want to get my spot as head cheerleader

My smile fell as quickly as it came. I saw the questions popping up in Brittany's eyes at my sudden change of mood, but I turned my body away from her without saying another word.

"Thank you, Santana."

My heart thumped loudly in my chest, so loud that I was afraid she would hear it, and I felt like I was sitting in front of a huge campfire, the flames heating my skin.

Get your shit straight, Santana

I had to stop acting like this, I had to act normal. So I did what I was good at.

"Well, don't get used to it," I snarled at her, but avoiding eye contact.

She looked at me like I was crazy. I didn't blame her, I would be confused too if someone was nice to me and seconds later acting like a bitch, but I couldn't help myself. One side of me wanted to get to know her, be nice to her, but the other side didn't trust her.

I saw her shoulders slump and her eyes moved to the window again.

A pang of guilt shot through me, and I mentally punched myself in the face for confusing myself so much. Whenever I was nice to her, that little voice in the back of my head spoke up again, telling me that I shouldn't trust her, but when I bitched at her I felt guilty. It was so damn annoying that it made me clench my fists tightly on my desk.

I had to do something to get my mind off of things, so I decided to actually listen to what Schuester was saying for once. Not that it mattered, because I was a fluent Spanish speaker, but this way I didn't have to think about the sad blonde next to me that much.

"So, I want you to take your textbooks and I want you to answer the questions on page twelve," the man with the curly hair said when he finished his speech about adjectives.

When I reached for my bag to take out my textbook, I noticed that Brittany was sniffing quietly next to me. Tears rolled slowly down her cheeks and her eyes were bloodshot.

Damn, she's crying

This was my fault. I wanted to do something, but me being me, didn't know how to handle situations like this. I wanted to make her feel better, but we were sitting in a full classroom, with people who could see us. People who could see Santana Lopez actually caringabout someone's feelings. I couldn't do that. So instead I reached for her textbook, which was full of doodles of all sorts of ducks, and opened it at page twelve, then I shoved the book under her nose. "Here, do you want me to help you?" I immediately glanced around the room, looking if someone might've heard my offer, luckily no one did.

I furrowed my brow when I didn't seem to get an answer, she just kept sniffing. So I reached my hand for her arm, wanting to touch her softly to get her attention, but instead it felt like an electric jolt shot through my entire body. It started at the tip of my index finger, and then shot through the rest of my body, ending at my toes. My eyes widened at the feeling, and I could only watch my hand, completely baffled.

It took a few moments before the shock ebbed away, and when I raised my eyes I caught her looking at her arm, right where I had touched her, with the same dumbstruck expression on her face.

What the hell

Then her gaze shifted from her arm to me, and she looked right into my eyes. "Did you… Did you feel that?"

It felt like my eyes were being sucked into hers, pulling me forward until I would eventually drown in those bright blue pools.

"Santanita, listen to me, if there is one thing that I have learned in my life, is to never let people in. Never open up to someone or make yourself vulnerable. 'Cause when you open up to people, they see your weaknesses. And when people know your weaknesses, they will use them against you to hurt you. You'll be helpless. It's better to hurt people before they hurt you, that way they know not to mess with you. Believe me, mi niña."

I ripped my gaze away from hers, forcing myself to look at something, anything but her. I could still feel her gaze burning into my side along with the tingles in the tips of my fingers and I knew that she wanted me to look at her again. But I didn't.

XXXXX

An hour later I walked out of the school, into the sun in the parking lot, a cigarette in the corner of my mouth. I stopped in my tracks when I saw Quinn, leaning on the hood of my car. I couldn't see her expression, because she was wearing those huge sunglasses again, but a look at her lips that were nothing more than a thin line on her face, I could see she was still mad at me.

I sighed, but kept walking, bracing myself for what would come. I didn't cringe when she jumped off of the hood and started yelling again.

"What the hell were you thinking, Santana? What is wrong with you?"

"Calm the fuck down, Fabray," although I really wanted to yell back at her, I managed to keep my voice calm.

"How can you say that when you just humiliated me in front of the whole team?"

When she lifted the sunglasses from her nose, I could see her cheeks start to flush from the anger again. I really needed to let her calm down if I didn't want her to bust the windows out my car.

"Quinn, listen to me. Calm down. I didn't want you to feel humiliated, but you were going too far, okay?"

She scrunched up her face when I said the last part.

"And since when do you think that people go too far? I don't know if you remember, Santana, but you're the one that's bitching all day at everyone that only looks at you."

She was right. In terms of scaring people shitless, I was a hundred times worse than Quinn. Quinn and I were very much alike, actually. The biggest difference between us was that she mocked people because she enjoyed it, because she wantedit because she knew it would get her more respect from the popular kids, and a raise on the social ladder.

I, on the other hand, did it to protect myself. Ever since I was a little kid I had learnt to stand up for myself, even if it wasn't necessary. Therefore I made sure people shut the hell up before they even got a chance to say something.

But that day in the locker room, when Quinn kept punching her fist into that locker and making the other girl's face scrunch up in fear, I just needed to stop her. But I knew that it wasn't just because Quinn was "going too far". Deep inside, I knew that if it had been another girl standing there, back pressed against the lockers, I would've let Quinn have her way with her. I wouldn't have cared. But this time, something in the blonde's eyes ignited something inside of me and made me lunge forward.

I knew I owed Quinn an explanation, and I knew I had to make her calm down. But I couldn't tell her the truth, it was all too confusing, I didn't even understand it myself, let alone Quinn. So I just repeated what I had said that afternoon in the locker room.

"I just really want to win Nationals. And if we want to win, we have to act like a team. I can't have you go all Lima Heights on one of our team members, Q," I stopped for a second when I saw something that looked like jealousy flash through her eyes. It was brief, but I was sure it was there. I wasn't sure whether she was jealous of Brittany that I stood up for her or that she was jealous of me being the head cheerleader and that I was the one that could tell her what to do.

I took a breath before I continued. "You can kill her after Nationals if you want, okay?" I said with a grin, hoping it would make her laugh.

She kept still for a few seconds, but I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw the corners of her mouth tugging up and a smile crossed her face.

"Okay, I'll keep that in mind. Now give me a ride to Breadstix, I'm meeting Sam there."

That was it. The one moment she looked like she wanted to kill me and peel my skin off of my bones, and the other moment she acted like nothing happened. Maybe it was because we had been friends for such a long time. However, I was happy she wasn't mad anymore, so I held the door open for her to get in, and drove to Breadstix.

XXXXX

I closed the front door behind me with a relieved sigh. It was Friday, which meant it was the beginning of the weekend. After all the drama with Quinn and Brittany, and school and Cheerios practice, I was happy to have two full days of doing exactly nothing. I stripped my leather jacket from my body and peeked into the living room. My happy mood subsided almost immediately when I saw my mom laying on the couch, watching TV and a cigarette stuck in the corner of her mouth. What really made my heartbeat speed up was the sight of an almost empty bottle of red wine standing next to the coffee table. I cautiously stepped into the living room, not wanting to make my mom jump.

"Hi mom," I said quietly.

After a moment, she tore her gaze away from the TV and looked at me. I clenched my jaw at the sight of her empty and emotionless bloodshot eyes. She didn't say a thing; instead she turned her head to the TV again and ignored me. I sighed and took a step into her direction, thinking of something to say to her. I wanted to start a conversation with her, make sure she was still alive or something. At seeing her tired expression I asked the first thing that came to my mind:

"Would you like some coffee or something?"

Wrong question. My mom bent forward and reached for the bottle standing on the ground. When she got it, she raised it to her lips and downed the bit that was still in there, then she motioned me to take the now empty bottle from her.

"Get me another," she said, eyes glued to the TV.

I stood there for a second, doubting what to do. My mom didn't say a thing, she just sat there, bringing her cigarette to her mouth every now and then to take a deep pull. At first I wanted to refuse, but then I remembered what had happened the last time I refused to do something, and I quickly made my way into the kitchen. I walked up to the counter, resting my hands there and just standing there for a while.

It hadn't always been like that. Yeah, my mom has had problemsever since I could remember, but it never was as bad as it was now. I don't know why my mom had started drinking, she'd been ever since I was a kid, and I was too young to understand. When I was really young, my mom and I had a strong bond, but somewhere along the way she started drinking, and with that our connection deteriorated.

My dad however… My dad meant everything to me. He took me to parks, we played catch, he took me to soccer games and cheered for me at dance competitions. He was my best friend.

I can remember the day that he left like it was yesterday. I came home from school, and I almost tripped over the suitcases standing in the hall. When I walked further into the house I saw my dad sitting on the couch with an empty expression on his face. His eyes were glassy and I could see that he had been crying. When he noticed that I had walked in, he looked up at me and gave me a sad smile.

"I am so proud of you," he said.

I had no clue why he said that, but from the look on my dad's face along with the suitcases I could tell something terrible was going to happen.

Then he stood up and walked up to me, crouched to my level and wrapped his strong arms around me. I instinctively wrapped my arms around him too, and suddenly I knew what was going to happen. My eyes filled with tears and I strengthened my grip on my dad.

"Please don't go, daddy. It will be alright, I promise."

I heard my dad sniff before he released me. He looked me in the eyes and I could see that he was fighting to keep his tears from falling.

"I'm so, so sorry, mija. But I hope that one day you'll understand. I just can't live like this."

He stood up and walked into the hall and reached for the suitcases.

"Daddy, don't leave!" I ran after him, desperately trying to stop him, but the only thing I got was an "I love you" and then he walked out of the door.

I must've been seven years old then. Since he left, everything went downhill. My mother started drinking more and more, and she got depressed. And then the only thing she did was sleep, drink and work, leaving me to take care of myself. My Abuela kind of knew what was going on, but she never talked about it or namedit, instead she just told me that it would be better that I would go to her place after school and stay there for dinner. I knew that our situation wasn't healthy, and although I was too young to really understand, I knew something was wrong with my mom. Whenever the kids at school would ask me why my Abuela was the one that always got me out of school instead of my mom I told them that my mom had a really busy job, making tons of money. The truth, however, was that my mom would spend her days in bed or on the couch, sleeping or drinking all her sorrow away, and the eight hours a day that she was sober, she was working her ass of in the diner, serving other people.

When I got older, I understood what my mom's problem was, and why she was how she was all the time. Although I really didn't have a bond with my mom, I somehow felt responsible for her. If she couldn't take care of herself, I had to do it.

That it meant that I had to clean the house and cook dinner wasn't the worst part of my mom's problem. The worst thing was that I never knew how she was feeling, and how she would react to me. The one day she would be quiet, but the other day she could snap and lash out at anything. I was never prepared for how she could react.

When I was younger, I always wondered why my dad had left us. What made him do it. I knew my mom and dad fought almost every day, and I knew my mom wasn't really nice to my dad, but I always thought they would work it out and that we could be a family again.

Now, I understand why my dad left. Because now I'm going through the same things he went through; the drinking, the mood swings, the whole mess. I understand why he left, because sometimes I want to leave, too. I understand, but that doesn't take away that I hate him for leaving me behind in this mess.

I raised my hand to wipe a tear from my cheek.

Pull yourself together

I closed my eyes for a second, making the unshed tears dry and banning all thoughts from my mind. I needed a distraction.

I took the bottle from the counter top, opened it, and walked back into the living room. I handed the bottle to my mother, who poured another glass immediately, and then I walked out of the living room and upstairs, to my room. I took the shortest skirt and the tightest top I could find out of my closet and put them on. I applied a layer of lip gloss on my lips and then turned around, and walked downstairs again.

"I'm going to a party, have a good night."

I don't know whether my mom didn't hear me over the sound of the TV or that she just ignored me, but I couldn't care less. I just needed to get out of the house. I put on my jacket and lighted a cigarette, then walked out of the house and made my way to Puck's place for one of his weekly parties.

XXXXX

The party must've been already in full swing, because I could hear the sound of loud music and the laughter of drunken teenagers two blocks away from Puck's house. I intentionally left my car at home, because my body was so full of adrenaline because of the anger, sadness and confusion, so I thought it would be a good idea to walk it off. Besides, Puck's house wasn't that far from mine. I could see the broad figures of football players, dressed in their letterman jackets, standing in Puck's front yard, all talking loudly, trying to get over the sound of the music. When I came closer I saw that the front yard was already covered with empty beer cans and cigarette butts, so I contributed by throwing my cigarette butt with it.

I wrestled myself through the mass of bodies to the front door, hearing people call my name in the process. I just smiled, not feeling like making small talk, but just wanting to go inside and get a drink. The strong beats pounded through my ears when I walked through the smoke-filled house. The place was packed with football players and the prettiest girls of our school. I was trying to make my way to the kitchen, dying for a drink, when I was suddenly stopped in my tracks by someone pulling my arm. I glanced to my right and found out it was Quinn, who was smiling widely at me, clearly tipsy. I saw her mouth move, but I couldn't hear her over the music, so I motioned for her to follow me to the kitchen. I pushed myself a few steps further through the crowd until I finally opened the door to the kitchen, Quinn following behind me.

I was glad that the kitchen wasn't as packed as the rest of the house and I took a moment to catch my breath and straighten my skirt.

"You caaame!" Quinn spoke with a wide smile.

I gave her a small smile back, while my eyes roamed the kitchen, looking for something to drink. Something strong. "Yeah I did."

"I knew you'd follow up my advice," she said proudly and slung her arm around my shoulders while I was screwing the cap off of a bottle of vodka.

"Which advice, Quinn?" I set the bottle to my mouth and threw my head back, taking a few big gulps and narrowing my eyes when the liquid burned at the back of my throat.

Quinn laughed loudly. "About… Puck!" she whispered the name in my ear. Well, it wasn't really a whisper, more a silent shout.

I set the bottle back on the counter top and turned my head towards her, raising my eyebrow in the process. "What?"

"You know! Getting closer to him!" she said matter-of-factly, while rummaging through the fridge and pulling out a can of beer.

I opened one of the cupboards and took out a glass. "That's not why I'm here, Q." I took the bottle of vodka again and poured it into the glass, then added some soda and mixed it. "I just wanted to get out of the house. You know." I leant my back against the counter and raised the glass to my mouth.

Quinn just nodded. She didn't say anything. Instead she started to sway her body to the music, while waving her hand through the air, and raising the beer can to her mouth every now and then.

I felt a laugh bubble up my throat and I raised my hand to my mouth in an attempt to muffle it. It didn't work.

Quinn opened her eyes and gave me a questioning look. "What?"

"You're so drunk," I laughed.

Quinn's face broke into a smile and she started laughing too. I didn't know if I saw it well or that it was just my imagination, but for a moment I thought I saw that spark in her eyes again.

"Well, come join me in my drunkenness!" she exclaimed. "Let's drink shots!"

I could only laugh harder while she walked up to the counter and started collecting all sorts of bottles. Then she opened one of the cabinets and took out a handful of shot glasses. She was filling them with all kinds of liquor when suddenly the door opened and Finn entered the kitchen.

His eyes widened a bit when he saw me, but he smiled nonetheless. "Hey!" he greeted, along with a dopey grin.

I gave him a curt nod, but Quinn stopped in her motions and turned to him with a huge smile plastered on her face. "Heeeey, Finn!" She chirped, then moved towards him and slung her arms around his tall frame, making him blush. I raised my eyebrow, wondering what the hell she was doing. My eyes widened even further when she turned her head and placed a kiss on his cheek, making his face turn an even brighter shade of red.

She released him and walked to the fridge, getting him a beer, which he took gratefully. "You want to drink shots with us, Finn?" she asked with a sweet smile.

What the fuck is she doing?

"Sure!"

Quinn divided the shot glasses between the three of us and raised her glass. Then Finn and I raised ours too, before setting the glasses at our lips and throwing our heads back. I closed my eyes at the burn again.

Quinn laughed and Finn laughed along with her while I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. Then the door opened again, and Mike poked his head into the kitchen, smiling at Quinn and me and then turning his attention to Finn.

"Hey, Finn, come on outside, Puck is going to make a bonfire!"

"Cool!" Finn answered, then smiled at us and made his way outside.

When the door had closed behind him, I immediately turned to Quinn. "What the fuck was that?"

Quinn poured some more shots, dripping the liquid onto the countertop in the process. "What?"

I sighed in frustration. "You being all over that giant!"

She smiled slyly. "Oooh, that. I haven't told you yet, have I?"

"Have told me what?"

"I broke up with Sam." She said like it didn't mean anything to her. Which wasn't weird, because she'd only started dating Sam a few months ago because he was the new "school hottie".

"Why?" I asked, just to keep the conversation going.

"That dork quit the football team," she said, "I can't have a boyfriend that quitted the football team! Besides, guess who the new quarterback is?"

I pursed my lips. I already knew where this conversation was going.

"Finn!" she exclaimed happily. "He's the new hot stuff, and I'm going to make sure he's mine. Imagine how jealous everyone will be!"

"Uhuh."

Always the same thing

"And how are you?" she asked. It sounded genuine, so I turned my head to her and looked her in her hazel eyes. I took a breath before speaking.

"I don't know, Q." I looked at the contents of my glass, wondering what the hell she put in there. When I opened my mouth to continue, Quinn suddenly jumped up, phone in her hands.

"Sorry, S, gotta go! Finn texted me, he asked me to come outside. See you later!" And then she skipped out of the kitchen, leaving me alone.

"Nice," I mumbled, then emptied my glass and set it down with a slam. I felt the adrenaline flood through my body again. Anger, sadness, loneliness. I clenched my jaw and stood up, walking out of the kitchen and into the living room.

I reached into my pocket and took my pack of cigarettes out, then lighted one while I moved through the crow, trying to evade the drunk boys on my way. I was stopped by a big muscular body, and before I knew it I was pushed up against the wall.

"Hey babe," Puck said huskily.

His breath smelled like beer and I turned my head to the side to evade his lips. His hands roamed my body, starting at my hips and creeping up to my breasts, clearly not caring that everyone could see us.

I got distracted by a blonde head that passed. I pushed Puck off of me and stood on my toes to get a better view. Yes, it was Brittany.

Puck stepped toward me again, ready to continue his journey over my body, but I pushed him again. "Not now, Puck." Then I stepped away from him and followed the blonde. I took a bottle of liquor that was standing on one of the tables on my way, and stopped when I saw her dancing with a group of football players.

I was at a few feet away, just standing there, not minding all the bodies moving around me, but only looking at her and her movements. Her body moved so freely, so easily to the music, like she had nothing to worry about. I saw the eyes of the guys glued to her breasts, which bounced up and down with her movements. I moved my cigarette to my already opened mouth and took a pull, blowing the smoke in a thin stream towards her. She must've noticed, because she stilled her movements for a second and looked at me. I wanted to look away, but I don't know whether it was because of the shots Quinn gave me or just her movements, but I just couldn't tear my gaze away from her. I sucked harder on my cigarette when I felt the familiar tingles crawl over my body and for a moment it was like the whole room had stilled, and the only thing I could see was her. That was until a body crashed into mine and I almost tumbled over by the impact. My cigarette fell on the carpet, but luckily I could save the bottle of liquor. I took this chance to walk away from her and took a seat on one of the stools in the back of the room. I could still see her. The tingles hadn't left my body yet and I wanted to punch myself for acting like this.

I raised the bottle to my mouth and took a sip. This time the liquid didn't burn that much. It actually tasted quite good, so I took another few sips. Right in front of me was Brittany, whipping her hair around and making my heartbeat speed up. To my left was a group of Cheerios, talking loudly about all the hot guys at the party, and to my right I saw Quinn sitting in Finn's lap, whispering into his ear.

My grip tightened around the bottle and I took another big gulp. The beats of the music started to hurt in my head and I closed my eyes. I hoped that that would calm me down, but instead I saw quick visions of all kinds of people flash through my mind.

I was scared that if my hand tightened any more around the bottle that it would break in my hand, but I couldn't help myself. My mom, my Abuela, Quinn, Finn, Puck, my dad.

Brittany.

I saw them all in my head, like some kind of movie on repeat. Every time I saw one of them, I felt my arm lift the bottle up and a second later the liquor would run down my throat.

Quinn. A sip. Puck. Another. My head started thumping. Another sip. My brain became clouded. Brittany. Another few big gulps, and then the empty bottle fell from my almost limp hand, landing on the carpet with a thud.

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