Author's Note:
This Lexi Diaz is different from the one in my other story, Another Warbler, both physically and mentally.
So for those who have read Another Warbler, just remember it's not the same person just the same name.
This is like the glee version of Twilight, that's why I put that Lexi came from La Push (located in Washington)
Takes place in Season 1. Supernatural shit will start either at the end of Season 1 or the beginning of Season 2.
Pairings: OC, Quinn, Rachel, Brittany and Santana
DON'T LIKE IT, DN'T READ IT!
Warning: OC g!p
Waking up in bed, I don't feel the usual ache in my back when I sit up.
Huh, must be my lucky day.
I start to crawl off the bed, I failed to notice that I am tangled in my sheets, so as a result I proceed to lower my feet to the ground and before I know it, I fall off the mattress and land on the floor with a thud; face first. Total cliché right?
"Yup! I spoke too soon." I grumble, pushing myself to my feet.
After getting ready for school, I go downstairs into the kitchen where I find Graham cooking breakfast.
"Morning," I greet, walking towards her; kissing her cheek before sitting on one of the stools near the island. Graham hands me a plate as she gets her own, then sitting across from me.
"You nervous kiddo?" She questions me while I place some food on my plate.
"For school?" I glance up at her. She nods.
"Definitely," I say, smirking; well...a nervous smirk.
"Do you need me to drop you off," she says after placing the plates in the sink when we've finished eating.
"No, I'm good. I'll just take my skateboard. 'Cause...you know-...gotta go get some exercise," I said, patting my stomach while smiling cheekily.
"Exercise," she exclaims, putting her hands on her hips.
"Yeah, exercise," I confirm, nodding my head.
"You're already in great shape Wolfie. You don't need to change your look. Don't you already have those bumps on your stomach?" Confusion growing on her face. I roll my eyes playfully at her.
"Graham," I pause. "They're called abs-...plus I only have two...-you can't even see them clearly. Here, take a look," I reply, lifting my shirt up.
"They're fine dear," she starts. "Now, why don't you go and get your things for school?"
Without another word, I take off upstairs, grabbing my one-strapped backpack and skateboard.
"See you later Graham," I hug her quickly before opening the front door and jogging down the black steps.
When she closes the door, I sprint off in the direction of the school where my grandma showed me. Rolling the skateboard, then hopping on quickly; I do a few tricks as I pass by some obstacles, like the bus bench and garbage cans.
Feeling the breeze brushing against my exposed skin, I glance down for a moment to see goose bumps forming on my russet skin.
Looking around as I skate past streets, I see some kids around my age getting out of their houses. One of the obvious jocks, a buff looking African American scowls at me when I almost bump into him.
Picking up speed, I can see the school; it's parking lot coming into view, then the school itself with pieces of garbage littered around.
"This school is fucked up," I mumble to myself, as I hault the skateboard. I stomp down on the board's tail, causing it to jump up and I catch it with my right hand easily. Just before I take a step forward, I hear a shriek nearby. I look around and spot a few jocks walking away from something. Turning my head to a few feet behind them, I see an arm sticking out of the dumpster with an empty wheelchair next to it.
Those fucking pricks!
I run over to the green dumpster and peek inside to see a boy, probably younger than me, laying in the garbage with his eyes closed.
"Do you need help?" I ask, causing his eyes to open immediately. The boy thinks for a while. For a second I thought I heard the gears in his head turning.
"Don't worry, you can trust me," I say with a smile. He looks at me shocked like I just read his mind.
I probably did.
"I do, but I'm not really sure you can get me out of here," he says, even lifting his arms just to plop them back down to emphasize his point.
"Are you saying it's because I'm a girl," I say, glaring at him.
"Um...n-no," the boy stammers as he gulps, his Adam's apple bobbing up.
"Just kidding," I chuckle, then my expression turning serious. "But if you make sexist comments, I'll slap the shit out of you. Got. It?"
He nods quickly. I place the skateboard down next to the wheelchair and then getting rid of my backpack next to it. I go to the side of the dumpster and put my arms under his covered armpits, making him sit up.
"You ready?"
"Yeah. Just...-can you have a countdown 'cause I don't wanna be bustin' my shit," he says in a ghetto way.
"Okay. On one...two...three-lift!"
I sit him on the edge of the dumpster, then quickly pulling him into my arms, carrying him bridal style and carefully placing him down on his wheelchair. After grabbing my things from the pavement, I look at the boy sitting in front of me and see that his whole face is red.
"So what's your name dawg?" He asks awkwardly, clearing his throat.
"Lexi Diaz, and you?"
"Artie Abrams. I'd shake your hand but I don't want my savior to get dirty," he looks at me a moment. "Well...dirtier."
"Don't you have someone to help you get cleaned up? I sort of have to take off and pamper myself up too," I say looking down at my plaid shirt.
"I do. My girlfriend, Tina actually-...just to put it out there if-...you know...if you're interested," he replies, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. I start walking backwards towards the school entrance.
"Sorry man, but I don't swing that way! See you later Artie," I shout out before spinning on my heel and running towards the double doors.
As soon as I open the doors I am met with pure silence through the crowded hall. Looking around, I see that every single damn person is staring at me with their beady little eyes. Taking cautious steps, I ignore the stares and go straight for the bathroom.
I push open the door to see a petite brunette fixing her hair at one of the sinks, her gaze fixed intently on the mirror in front of her.
I go to one stall and close the door softy. Putting the skateboard down on the tile floor and hanging my backpack on the hook, I take off my plaid shirt, revealing a black tank top underneath. I ball up the piece of clothing and throw it into my bag. Taking out a bottle of perfume, I spray it around me, afraid that people will start calling me names 'cause I smell like garbage.
Getting out of the stall, I notice that the brunette is still in the exact same spot where I found her. Going to the sink near the door, I tuck my board under my arm and begin washing my hands.
I hear some toilets flush and then the tapping of shoes ceasing as they stop on the other side of the brunette.
"Getting ready for the tranny prom Rachel," I hear a familiar voice say as the other sinks turn on.
Looking next to me, I see a Latina cheerleader glaring at me, but as soon as we lock eyes, her expression softens. My breath has caught in my throat; the girl's beautiful face constricting into multiple expressions. Suddenly...I feel the same...tingling feeling in my stomach. Then I see the image of a steel cord getting added by another one. Two steel cords...side by side.
When someone clears their throat, I remember that there are other people in the room.
Turning to look at the unmistakable Jewish girl, I once again have the tingling feeling forming in the pit of my stomach as I see lighter chocolate orbs than the Latina, staring into my dark brown ones; except this time...I feel a shiver run up my back.
The image of the two steel cords pop up again and another one is slowly appearing next to them. I snap my gaze to the last person of the room.
Shivers increase even more when I look into hazel eyes that I've come to know yesterday. Quinn, wearing the same cheerleading uniform as the unnamed Latina. Shaking my head, I quickly rip out a piece of paper from the dispenser; throwing it in the trash and opening the door.
What the hell is happening to me?
I thought as I ignore the stares that have decreased by a tiny portion and instead thinking about the tingling that has disappeared all of a sudden.
Walking into the principal's office, I greet the principal politely.
"Good morning Principal Figgins," I say, after looking at the name plate on the desk.
"Ah Ms. Diaz, I was expecting you," he says, smiling.
"Well, I just came by to get my schedule and all," I reply, adjusting the strap of my bag.
"One moment please," he tells me before searching through his cabinets.
"Here are all your belongings," he says, handing them to me.
"Have a good day Ms. Diaz." He smiles again at me before closing the door behind me.
After putting away my stuff in my locker, I go to my homeroom in time just before the bell rings. Once again, sensing multiple stares being directed in my way, I ignore them.
I look at the teacher's desk to see that it's empty. Searching for an open seat, I find one next to a well dressed boy.
Huh, my gaydar is going haywire.
Walking over to the seat, I manage to jump over legs that intended to trip me.
Fucking assholes who don't have shit to do.
"Excuse me," I get the attention of he boy.
"May I sit her," I ask, pointing at the maroon chair next to him.
"Sure." He replies, his voice kinda high pitch. Taking my seat, I start opening my binder when the teacher walks in. A curly haired man wearing a sweater vest.
"Ugh...such atrocious clothing," the flamboyant boy says.
"Excuse me?" I ask confused, looking at the boy in the eye, forgetting all about the binder.
"Mr. Schue-...that guy," he nods towards the man at the front. "His clothing choices are unbearable."
"I think the choices are unbearable because he's uptight," I say looking at Mr. Schue.
"You understand body language," he tilts his head to the side.
"Yup, and four other languages," I nod.
"Well that's intriguing. Finally, an intellectual person I could talk to," he says, throwing his hands in the air.
"Why? Are the people here as slow as a meat-headed jock," I ask, smiling a little.
"Sort of, but most of the people here are ignorant. They let the popular kids define them," he tells me, rolling his eyes.
"That's the social hierarchy for you; a real pain in the ass. The name's Lexi Diaz," I say, offering my hand to him. He takes my hand and I'm not at all surprised by the softness of his hand.
Yup, he's gay.
"Kurt Hummel-...you'll also know me as a future Broadway star or the world's greatest designer." I chuckle softly at his confidence, my smile widening.
"Okay class, my name is Mr. Schuester, but you can call me Mr. Schue," the Justin Timberlake look alike says.
"I'll be teaching you all basic Spanish, but first I want you to turn and talk with your partner and describe yourselves to them," he tells us. When no one does anything, he puts his hands on his hips and puts on an intimidating look.
Well...not really; he's trying to look intimidating, but...seriously, it's just not working.
"Come on; chop-chop. Andale, andale," he demands, clapping his hands together a few times.
What the fuck?! Dude this isn't pre-k; stop playing patty cake.
As a few groans echo through the room, half of the class turn to their partners, including me.
This is gonna be a long day.
I sigh exasperatedly.
"This is going to be a long day." Kurt drawls out, rubbing his face with his hands as a smirk grows on my features.
"Kurt?"
He hums in response.
"We're gonna be good friends," I nod, smirk in place.
"I'm sure we are," he says, grinning at me.
10 minutes later
"What's your favorite color," he asks me, placing both his elbows on our table. I look at him with my 'dude...seriously?' expression.
"I'm serious. Just answer the question," he tells me. I let out a sigh.
"Fine. It's red...-but black is a close first," I reply, waving my hand absentmindedly.
"Your turn." He states, sitting straight up in his chair.
5 minutes later
"Are you Native American," Kurt asks, genuinely curious.
"Can't you tell?" I smirk at him. He gives me an exasperated look.
I put my hands up in mock surrender.
"Geez clam down, but to answer your question-...yeah, I am." I run my hand through my black hair, trying to keep my long bangs out of my face.
"Which tribe?" He asks in an eager way.
"Why so interested," I raise my eyebrow at him.
"Stop answering my questions with questions; it's annoying," he glares at me.
"It's just how I am dude," I shrug, then crossing my arms and leaning back in my chair.
"Come on, answer the question," he whines. "It is the assignment," he adds when I don't respond.
"Quileute." I just flat out say.
"Can you fight," he asks for the fifth fucking time.
"Oh my god." I groan, putting my head in my hands.
When the bell rings, I check my schedule to see that I have Science next.
"Ms. Diaz?" I turn my attention back to Kurt.
"Yeah?" My eyebrows scrunching up.
"It's a pleasure annoying you," he says grinning evilly.
We walk into the hall where students swarm around to get to their classes.
"I'm glad you enjoy my pain," I say sarcastically while I roll my eyes.
"So...you need help finding your next class," he offers.
"Nah," I shake my head. "I can manage. Don't want my friend to be late for class," I say, reaching up to touch his hair and intending to mess it up.
"You mess my hair up, I swear on my designer clothes I will break your hand," he growls, glaring at me.
"Calmate man," I say, shoving one of my hands in my jean pocket. "Well...-see you later Kurt." I pat his back before walking off. "Don't be a stranger!" I call out over my shoulder.
Waving a goodbye and turning the corner, I start my adventure trying to find my next class.
If I had stayed longer, I would've seen Kurt getting drenched with purple slush.
Getting to Science class, I find myself alone in a classroom with the exception of Ms. Berkley (a middle-aged looking blonde), from what the name on the board behind her says. Going to the table at the very back, I plop down in a seat. Taking out a piece of paper from my binder along with a pencil, I start drawing a cartoon.
I am already done drawing a falcon flying (a very detailed one I might add) and as I was about to draw the grass beneath the bird, I sense someone sit beside me when the bell rings.
Turning to look at the other occupant of my table, I am met with the bluest eyes of a blonde girl just staring back at me; clad in a familiar cheerleading uniform. Then the tingling comes back again, only this time my hands start to shake.
An image of the three steel cords come into my head once again. Another one appears from thin air, now showing the image of four steel cords next to each other.
"Hi!" The girl's voice knocks me out of my stupor. "My name's Brittany S. Pierce, kinda like Britney Spears; what's yours?" She asks in an energetic tone.
"Um...w-what," I stutter, sounding like an idiot.
"Silly girl," she giggles. My head starts to feel lightheaded from the girl's angelic voice. "I said, what's your name?"
"Um...it's -um...it's Lexi. Well...Lexi Diaz if you prefer to know my whole name," I say lamely.
Stupid tingling feeling!
"That's a totes drawing," she points at my forgotten picture.
"T-thanks." I scratch my neck nervously. The girl puts a hand on my shoulder, causing jolts to go through my body.
"Hey," she says in a soothing tone. "You don't have to be nervous -I don't bite," she smiles showing off her teeth. "Well...unless you want me to." she winks, my breath getting caught in my throat.
"Sorry, it's my f-first day here. Kinda new to the town," I apologize, smiling sheepishly.
"S'okay," she tells me, taking her hand off my shoulder, but not before giving it a comforting squeeze. I pout inwardly at the loss of physical contact. Glancing at the drawing, I suddenly have a light bulb moment.
"Here," I start. "Think of it as a sorry gift." I smile bashfully at her, holding the ivory paper out towards her. She takes it gently out of my hand and then she does the unexpected.
She hugs me.
Very tightly.
Literally, I'm kinda like choking right now.
Gaydar at 60%.
My inner Siri says in that monotone way, making me roll my eyes.
"Thank you! Oh my god! When I first saw it I wanted it, but it was yours so I got sad, but now I feel happy," she exclaims in one breath.
Trying desperately to catch my breath, I manage to choke out some words. " You're...-welcome...Bri-Brittany."
I suddenly hear someone cough loudly. "Ahem."
Looking up, I see that Ms. Berkley and the rest of the class is looking at us.
"Anything you want to share girls," Ms. Berkley says with an amused smile.
"I made a new friend," Brittany says with a mega-watt grin, letting go of me and clapping her hands excitedly.
"Good for you Ms. Pierce," the educator tells the bubbly girl.
"Now, getting started with science, I want you to copy the questions on the board and answer them as best as you can. I'll use the information based on your answers to see what you know." As soon as Ms. Berkley finished talking, my classmates immediately started getting to work.
Now that's a teacher with control.
Having a good time in Science with Britany, I am now sitting in Math class; bored as fuck and at the front desk closest to the door. By the way I'm sitting beside a boy with a huge afro.
Care to guess, who it is?
During the four minute passing period, I've heard through conversations as I walk by that a person being nicknamed 'Jewfro' is being creepy. From where I'm sitting, I can guess that 'Jewfro' is Jacob Ben Israel from the style of his hair...and the fact that he's the only one with that style of hair. Anyways; but after finding out myself if he's a wack job or not, I can confirm that he's not.
Honestly, I didn't know what I was expecting when I started a conversation with the guy. I mean he was overconfident at first (and occasionally says some weird things) and when I asked him what his hobbies were, his face just lit up like a freakin' Christmas tree...-well...like a menorah.
"Hey JB'rael," I say, glancing at him a moment.
Did I mention I gave him a nickname?
"Yeah?" He looks up from the assignment that I finished a long time ago.
"You should think about making a career out of that," I tell him, leaning the side of my head on my notebook.
"Career out of what," he asks, his eyebrows furrowing.
"As an interviewer or something. You told me you like reporting gossip, so why not make a career out of that," I shrug.
"I think about that sometimes, but I'm not really sure it'll work out for me," he tells me. "Famous people might sue me if I get in their faces."
"Well, if you're determined and put an effort in making everything perfect...you'll succeed," I say, getting up the same time the bell rings.
Too nervous to go into the cafeteria, I walk around the empty hallways trying to find a safe spot to eat my food.
Finding the doors to an auditorium or I think i's an auditorium; just before I push the doors, a strong but muffled voice can be heard through the doors. Thinking about finding another place to eat, curiosity gets the better of me. I swiftly sneak into the auditorium, bag of food still in hand and the shivers run down my back.
I squint through the dim lights to see the petite brunette at center stage.
My life is brilliant
I see the girl take a deep breath before starting again.
My life is brilliant.My love is pure.I saw an angel.Of that I'm sure.
I walk down the stairs, trying to not make any noise.
She smiled at me on the subway.She was with another man.But I won't lose no sleep on that,'Cause I've got a plan.
You're beautiful. You're beautiful.You're beautiful, it's true.I saw your face in a crowded place,And I don't know what to do,'Cause I'll never be with you.
When she stops a moment, I decide to join in. Sucking in a breath, then letting it out. I belt out the next verse, making my presence known.
Yet she caught my eye,As we walked on by.
I start climbing the stage stairs, locking eyes with her.
She could see from my face that I was,fucking high.
I pretend to stumble and she shakes her head at me, a smile grazing her lips.
And I don't think that I'll see her again,But we shared a moment that will last 'tilthe end.
She smiles at me before joining me.
You're beautiful. You're beautiful.You're beautiful, it's true.
I point at her while nodding; I give myself a note to celebrate when she ducks her head down, blush forming on her cheeks.
I saw your face in a crowded place,And I don't know what to do,'Cause I'll never be with you.
You're beautiful. You're beautiful.You're beautiful, it's true.There must be an angel with a smile on her face,When she thought up I should be with you.But it's time to face the truth,I will never be with you
"You have a lovely voice Miss..." I wave my finger in a circle for her to continue.
"Berry, Rachel Berry. You have a lovely voice as well but it does crack a few times during the duration of the number, but with a few vocal lessons, I can assure you'll have perfect pitch. Anyways, enough about desirable vocal cords. What is the name I shall put to one's face," she rambles, her eyes twinkling.
"Where are my manners?! Diaz! Lexi Diaz is the name, Miss Rachel Berry," I say, bowing before taking her hand and kissing the back of her hand. I feel the similar tingle on my lips as I did when I had kissed Quinn's. Pulling back, I notice the faint blush forming in her cheeks.
Gaydar at...45%?
"So, you hungry? I can share." I tell her, lifting the bag of food up.
"I do have my own food. I wouldn't accept your offer even though I would love to...-see I'm been a vegan for several years now, so it would benefit both of us if you don't ask but thank you for considering it," she says in one breath.
"Nice pair of lungs you got there," I compliment her, easily starting a conversation.
After the whole lunch period of Rachel talking about her dream of becoming a Broadway star and Barbra Streisand's fine work, I walk into AP English Lit and ignore the fucking stares once again. Taking a seat near he windows, I tuck my pen behind my right ear.
Placing my knuckles on the table, I push down on them causing all the bones to crack loudly. Glancing around the room, I notice the majority of the class looking at me horrified. When I glare at most of them, they quickly turn their heads away simultaneously, making me smirk.
Good thing no one's sitting next to me or I'd pop their jaw out of place.
Halfway through class, a folded piece of paper lands in front of me. Without a second thought, I open it finding well written cursive.
Meet me at the playground today at 7
-Quinn
Overlooking the class, I find the said blonde staring directly at me, making goose bumps form on my arms. I nod my head at her before turning my attention to my paper, paying no attention to her deep gaze.
Sitting next to a jock has been the most torturing thing in my life. The fucking bastard keeps looking at me like I'm a piece of damn meat. I'm about to poke his eyeballs out when he gets pushed out of his chair, my eyes widening in shock. Red, white and black colors block my view of the fallen football player. Moving my gaze up, the fucking tingling shit is back again. I grit my teeth in annoyance, but I'm happy to see the Latina so I keep a calm expression in place.
I refuse to look at the girl in the eyes, whether it's because of nervousness or...nervousness, so I decide to look straight ahead.
"So here's how it's gonna be goin', you've met my friend Brittany and she tells me you got something goin's on under that shirt," she starts; hearing her raspy voice for the first time, my legs go jelly.
"I want you to comes over by my place so I can see for myself...and FYI, I'm not lesbian; perverted dicks just expect me to make out with hot chicks like how those girls do in porn," she husks into my ear while nipping at my lobe.
Gaydar at 99%. What? I know a closeted lesbian when I see one.
The extra appendage in my pants starts to harden and I groan softly, feeling tension growing.
"Sorry...b-but I have p-p-plans," I stutter out, gasping for air when she starts sucking on the spot behind my ear.
I thank god when bell rings and I grab my things and dash out of the room, running like hell towards Health class, all the while thinking of major turn-offs.
Going to my locker, I stuff my things into my backpack, then grabbing my skateboard and bursting through the exit.
Jumping over the stairs on my skateboard, I sneak a peek towards the groups of people in the parking lot. I smirk to myself when I see them gawking at me.
Probably 'cause I'm not wearing a helmet.
Telling Graham I have somewhere to go, I'm now boarding my way through Lima Heights. Getting to the playground, that's surprisingly empty again, I walk towards the place under the bridge to see Quinn already sitting there. The stupid tingle making an appearance for the -yeah, I don't know how many times.
"How's it going Quinn," I ask as I sit down beside her, noticing he hair wasn't in a tight pony and wearing a baby doll dress.
"Saw you at school today," she states ignoring the question.
"Are you still sad?"
"I can't talk to you."
Both of us said at the same time.
"I can't talk to you," she repeats. "In public. You're just another loser and I'm another popular." She tell me in an icy tone that makes me flinch.
"Social hierarchy," I ask, feeling hurt by the statement.
"Yeah," she murmurs.
"That's fine," I whisper.
No it's not.
"I'll leave you alone I you tell me why you were crying yesterday," I look at her dead in the eye.
"That's too personal," she says, her jaw clenching.
"Well, it's the least you could do if you're gonna be treating me like shit at school. Since you're basically the queen of that hell hole and your followers will most likely copy you, I suggest you tell me why you were crying," I demand, pursing my lips.
Anger bubbling in my chest because I can already feel what Rachel and Kurt call the 'Slushies of Doom.' Then there's sadness for Quinn; letting te ideaof freaking popularity step all over her.
I watch as Quinn takes a deep breath before looking away from me.
"I'm gay."
Knew it!
She looks back at me as if I was going to judge her a call her cruel names.
Hello! I'm a lesbian, nothing straight goes through this body!
"Please say something," she begs.
"It would really be hypocritical of me if I insulted you 'cause I'm a lesbian," I say in 'a matter of fact' way.
She looks at me shocked. Her eyes widening, "You are."
"Yup, and if you haven't noticed, which you didn't, then you really have awful gaydar," I smirk at her, before my face twists into confusion.
"Wait...-you were crying because you're gay?"
"It was more like having to hear my Christian, Republican grandparents talk about how gays are an abomination," she says, shaking her head.
"So that means the freakishly tall dude...you call your boyfriend...is your beard," my eyes widen in shock. "And-...your parents are okay with you being gay?"
She nods, her nose scrunching up in a cute way.
"Well that's just-" I start, only to get cut off by my phone ringing.
"One sec," I tell the hazel-eyed girl.
"Wolfie! Can you please come home now? Graham has a surprise for you!"
"Do I have to Graham," I groan.
"Yes, now hurry up! See you in a few minutes dear," she says, not giving me time to argue.
Sighing, I turn back to Quinn who's raising her eyebrow at me.
"What," I ask, clueless of the situation.
"Graham," she questions, her perfect eyebrow still raised.
"When I was young, I failed saying 'grandma' and instead I said Graham. The name stuck, so yeah," I explain, nodding at the end. She smiles softly at me, but doesn't say anything.
"So...she told me I have to go home now," I tell her.
"Oh-...well...um...bye then, I guess," she says and I hear a little bit of disappointment in her voice.
"Quinn," I start. "Don't worry, okay? I'll never tell anyone what you just told me. I swear on me being lesbian that I will not tell a soul," I finish, grinning at her.
"I know you won't. You're different...otherwise I wouldn't have told you," she says, giving me a heart warming smile.
"See you around Quinn."
Gently taking her hand, I kiss her knuckles, the tingles spreading on my lips and for once I don't mind the warm feeling it's giving me.
Just before I get up, she touches my shoulder, getting my attention. I look at her questioningly.
"Here, I forgot to give it back to you," she says, her outstretched hand showing my handkerchief.
Pulling my hands out of my jean pockets, I close her fingers, making the piece of cloth disappear out of sight; sealed safely in her pale fist.
"Keep it," I tell her sly, before getting up and walking home, not really in the mood to ride my board.
"Graham, I'm home! What's the surprise," I say walking into the living room.
Two heads turn around from their position on the couch. One of the heads belonging to Graham and the second one belonging to my long time best friend and occasional fuck buddy. So FYI, she does know about my buddy down there. The one and only Cameal Lahote.
"Aren't you supposed to be in La Push?" I direct the question to the guest.
"What? No hug. Aren't you happy to see me," she says the last part to my crotch, subtly glancing at it. My forehead burns up in embarrassment.
"Come her," I wave her over. She jumps off the couch and tackles me onto the floor, her black hair covering my face.
"I'll leave you two alone for some privacy," Graham stands up and goes into the kitchen.
"I'm moving in with you. I missed you dork," she smiles at me.
"And your parents are okay with this," I ask surprised.
"Yup. They said you're a good influence in my life, so they sent me here to you," she says, still straddling me with her tan hands on my chest.
"Girls! Dinner's ready," Graham's voice echoes through the room.
Cameal scrambles off of me and runs to the kitchen.
Eager much?
I huff as I get up, straightening my clothes.
Leaning against the doorframe of the guest room, I watch my best friend walk back and forth through the room.
"You know the least you could do is help me put away my things," Cameal says, sitting on the bed and folding her clothes.
"Nah, I'm good, but I do have another idea of how I could help you," I tell her, my voice starting to rasp. Closing the door and locking it behind me, I walk slowly to the bed. Cameal catches on to what I'm suggesting, disposing all her things to the floor. She lays down as I climb over her.
"Won't your grandma hear," she whispers into my ear, her fingers pulling at the small hairs on the back of my neck.
"Then I guess we'll just have to be quiet," I whisper back. Leaning down, I press my lips against hers, causing my penis to spring inside my compression shorts.
"Let's get you out of those clothes shall we," she states, starting to pull my tank top off.
In the back of my brain, I can't help but agree with the voice telling me it's a bad idea. But being the stubborn shit that I am, I continue, hoping to get rid of stress and the shivers that have started since I first met Quinn.
A/N:
Please review.
How was that?
Cameal is just Lexi's friend, nothing else.
What should the ship names be? Please tell me. If you have your own ship names please mention it in your comments. But for now these are mine.
Lexi Diaz + Rachel Berry= Razberry
Lexi Diaz + Brittany Pierce= Briaz
Lexi Diaz + Quinn Fabray= LeBray
Lexi Diaz + Santana Lopez= Lextana
