As promised here's the next chapter. Enjoy.

Chapter 3

Santana's POV

"Yeah. Sure. Uh-huh. Got it. Saturday at one. I'll be there." I say into the speaker of the phone. "Thank you for this opportunity. I really appreciate it."

I say goodbye and hang up the telephone. I place the device back in my pocket for safe keeping before I do what I am gonna do next. Which is jump up and down with my fists in the air like an excited little kid.

That call was from the owner of the diner that I was at the other day. The one I had lunch at and applied to. I got the waitress job. I start Saturday at one and I couldn't be more excited. I know witnessing isn't a very exciting profession. Heck, I don't want to make it my profession I just want a summer job. Actually, I need a summer job and I feel like this is the one I need.

I have one of my dad condition for living here accomplished. And that one condition really makes it easy for me to follow and accomplish any and all conditions that my dad may have.

I have to call him and tell him the good news.

I take a deep breath to calm myself and pull out my phone. I pause and look around at my surroundings. It isn't until now that I realize that I am still standing at the front door of the house with it hanging wide open. I look over myself and what I am wearing- short pajama shorts and a sweatshirt- and remember someone else looking over my attire not too long along. I look to the yard and think over what just happened only a few minutes ago.

A blonde girl in baggy jeans and a sleeveless t-shirt and work boots trying to explain to me about the bugs in the flower bed in the front yard. It seems like so long ago, especially after that phone call, but she was here in my yard not five minutes ago.

Brittany.

I shake the thoughts of her from my head and hit speed dial number 2 on my phone. My dad answer right away.

"Hi, dad I have some very exciting news…"

It's Friday. And am up and ready for my day. It's a busy one too. My family is coming up today. Dad said they were leaving at six am so they should be here between two and three this afternoon. That gives me just over four hours to do everything that needs to be done. I need to go to the grocery store again. My mom sent me a list of groceries that she needs for today and tomorrow until she can get to the store for herself. After that I need to clean the house, not that it's dirty or messy, but I tend to leave stuff laying around especially when I'm all by myself. So, I have to pick up my little messes and then my dad wants me to open up the garage and back the big van out so when they arrive he can park the car in there. We keep a van that seats eight people legally (more illegally) for when the whole family is here and we need to move larger numbers of bodies.

My mom and my dad and my brother Roberto are coming on today. And on Saturday the rest of the family is coming. My dad's brother and this wife and their three kids and my Abuela is traveling with them too.

I will be working my first shift at the restaurant when they all arrive. Part of me is glad because I get to miss that hectic time but another part of me wants to be there when they arrive and greet and hug each and every one of them. And a third part of me doesn't care because I am too excited about starting my new job.

The shopping and cleaning went off without a hitch. The house looks great. I got the van out of the garage. The food is all put away. Even the yard looks great thanks to landscaper Brittany. I am just waiting on the fam to pull in. My dad called and said they were taking the exit from Green Bay which was about fifteen minutes ago, meaning they will be here any minute now.

I don't know why I'm nervous. I think I just want to impress my mom and dad with showing them that I can be responsible and take care of myself.

Not two minutes later a hear the sound of a car door. I jump from my seat in the living room and go to the front door in a hurry. I throw the door open and step out onto the stone patio. "You're here."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious. Yes, Santana. We have arrived." My mom says mockingly.

I roll my eyes. "Fine. You're not getting a hug now." I cross my arms over my chest and make my way over to the car.

"Get your little butt over here, Santana." My mom demands. I know that I am not gonna get away without a welcome hug so I go over to where she is standing at the trunk of the car. "I will always get my hug." She says and wraps her arms around me. I don't reciprocate out of annoyance.

"How have you been, Santana?" My dad asks as he lifts the bags out of the trunk. "Roberto, get out of the car and come get your bag. I am not carrying it in the house for you, you lazy bum." He directs at my brother.

"I'm fine, daddy. Everything is going well. I went shopping and cleaned the house today."

"Good." He nods his head once. "I see the van started alright."

"It did. Started right up." I confirm.

"Good." He nods again. He's a man of few words, well, unless you get him drunk then he never shuts up but that doesn't happen very often. "Roberto, what did I just say?" My dad half yells.

It's the first of Roberto I've really seen yet. His tired looking face pops out from the door of the backseat. "Hey, baby sister." He says with his signature grin.

"Hi, Robbie." He hates when I call him that. It's his nickname from when he was a little kid and he says he has outgrown it and would like to be called Roberto or Robert or Rob.

"Hey." He whines. "What did I say about that?" He steps out of the car and comes to the rear were the whole family is congregated now.

"That you don't like it."

"Exactly, so don't use it- kiddo." He says and ruffles my hair.

"No." I duck away from him. "If I can't use Robbie then you can't use kiddo. That's not fair." It's my turn to whine about nicknames.

"Life's not fair baby sister." Robbie grins and grabs his bag from the trunk.

"Dad." I groan hoping he will say something to Robbie to make him stop.

"I'll be in my room." Roberto calls on his way to the front door.

"Santana, just leave it be. He's stubborn and you're stubborn. There's no fighting it. Your dad's the same way. I learned that long ago. Now lets go in the house and catch up." My mom tells me and I can't help but huff out a annoyed breath of air. The thing is- she's right.

I follow after her towards the house.

"Santana, the yard looks great. Do you know if the landscapers stopped by?" Dad asks from behind me.

I turn and smile at him thinking of the specific landscaper that was in our yard the other day. "Yep. They were here. There is one thing I have to show you though. Over there in the bed closet to the road are some-"

"Santana, lets go." My mom yells from inside the front hallway of the house.

"You better go. You can tell me or show me later." Dad says and nods towards the house. "Go, before your mother has a conniption fit."

"Okay." I turn back towards the house. "Wait." I turn back around to my dad. "Do you need help with that?" I point at the two bags he has in his hands.

"No, dear, I've got it. Just go." He smiles his warm daddy smile that he saves just for me. I smile back before turning around and running into the house.

It's dark outside. And kinda cold now that I think about it. There's a bonfire but I am sitting too far away for it to keep me warm. "I'm gonna run and grab a sweatshirt." I say to anybody who is listening.

"Okay, dear." My mom says in response and then returns to her conversation with the neighbor.

I leave the circle of chairs that sit around the fire and run up the beach to the steps, up the steps to the grass, over the grass to the back patio, and in the house. There's a sweatshirt laying on the back of the couch in the family room so I grab that. It's the first thing I see and I am too lazy to go upstairs to my room and get a sweatshirt from there.

When I return to the bonfire there are a few less people there then before. "Where'd the neighbors go?" I ask.

"Home, it's getting late Santana." She informs me like I don't know this.

"I know. I was just wondering if they left for the night or if maybe they went to get another drink or to go to the bathroom or something." I explain my theories to her.

"No, they have turned in for the night. And, I think, I am going to take their lead and do the same." My mom gets up from her white plastic lawn chair. "When will you be up, Antonio?"

"A few minutes, sweetie. I just want to talk to the kids for a little while." He says. That can't be good. Anytime my dad says something like that it usually mean he is going to scold us or warn us about our behavior or something along those lines.

"Okay." My mom leans down and presses a kiss to his cheek.

A silence takes over the area as my mom walks up to the house from the beach. I watch her as she goes. She never even turns to look at us. She just walks straight to the house and goes inside. As soon as the sliding glass door shuts my dad opens his mouth to speak. I look to my brother nervously but he stares straight ahead not looking at me or our dad.

"You two will be on your best behavior tomorrow. All week actually. I know you are both adults now but your three cousins aren't. They are young and impressionable yet. I don't need you two teaching them curse words or anything of that nature. Do you understand?"

"Yes, daddy." I say.

"Got it." Robbie say at the same time. "No dirty jokes, no swear words, no goofing off, no risky behavior. I will be the best son you've ever had."

"You're the only son he has, you idiot." I squawk.

"Santana." My dad warns. "This is the sort of thing I'm talking about."

"Sorry, dad." I cower in my chair. I hate it when my dad yells at me. I'm a daddy's girl, obviously, and I don't want to do anything to upset him.

"It's fine. Just you two behave around your cousins." I nod and I can see Robbie nodding too out of the corner of my eye. "I'm going to bed now. You know what to do." He says gesturing to the fire.

"I'll make sure it's out before I go up." Robbie says.

"Good man." My dad says and stands from his chair with a little wobble. He has had a good amount to drink tonight but I didn't think it would affect him that much. He steadies himself and starts walking to the house. "Goodnight." He calls over his shoulder as he ascends the stairs from the beach.

"Soooo?" Robbie drags out.

"What?" I wish he would just cut to the chase. I don't have time for his games. Not tonight. I have a big day ahead of me tomorrow.

"How have you been little sis?" He grins his signature grin. I wouldn't say it's quite devilish or evil but more like he knows something that I don't. That's how I would describe it. It's a little unnerving.

"Fine." I shake my head at him. He and I don't talk often. He's three years older than me and in Graduate School. He's a busy guy. He works too so he doesn't have much time to talk- not that we ever really talked to each other when we were teenagers. And I'm busy with stuff too. School and stuff. "Why?"

"I just want to know how my baby sister is. What she is up to? How college is going? That sort of thing. Is there something wrong with that?"

"No." There's nothing wrong with it but this is awful odd behavior for Robbie. He hardly ever asks me anything about my life. "What's your angle?"

"No angle." He puts his hands up in defense. "How are things with your friends, good?"

"They're fine."

"Quinn?"

"She's good. She's gonna come visit me this summer." I smile at the thought of my best friend coming to visit for a week. Hopefully I can get a little time off work or at least not be working everyday that she is here. That would suck and would make me a shitty friend.

"What about Puck?" Robbie asks.

"Puck?" I blanch.

"Yeah, ya know, your boyfriend." Robbie grins again.

I realize now that this iswhat he was getting at all along. I stand up from my seat. "I'm going to bed."

"What? Santana, we are having a conversation. Where are you going? I was just asking about Puck. I want to know how the guy is doing? Is that so awful." Robbie stands up and that's when I start moving. "Hey." He yells after me as I rush up the beach to the house.

I haven't hardly thought about Puck the whole time I've been here. And I don't want to start thinking about him now.

One pm.

Saturday.

My first shift at the diner.

"Hello Santana, I'm Shannon." I big burly woman extends her right hand towards me.

"It's nice to meet you." I say politely and shake her hand.

"Right. Let's get you to work. Follow me." She spins on her heels and follow her into the kitchen area of the diner.

Several hours, a number a mistakes, and nearly three mental breakdowns later if finally feel like I have some idea as to what I am doing. I didn't think witnessing would be so hard.

I have screwed up two customers orders so far. I tried to carry two plastic glasses in one hand and ended up dropping them both. One of the glasses broke so I had to clean that up along with the contents that they spilled.

None of my fellow waitresses bothered to help me out either. Janet said 'we all started where you are. It's all part of the gig. You live you learn'. I couldn't do anything but huff an annoyed breath at her and roll my eyes.

I like this place but I can't wait until I learn the ropes and this waitressing thing gets easier. I hope it does, and that it won't be this frustrating forever. If I could use one word to describe my first shift so far it would be terrible.

"You ready for the dinner rush?" Janet appears, seemingly, out of nowhere.

"Huh?" I grunt dumbly.

"You ready for the mad rush for dinner?" Janet asks again.

"Is it gonna be really busy?" I'm kinda of nervous about the possibility of the diner being full of people and me not being able to handle it.

"Don't worry, kid. It won't be too bad. It's a Saturday, right?" She says as she wipes down the counter.

"Yeah." I nod. I don't know what it being Saturday has to do with anything.

"It tends to be less busy on a Saturday at dinner time then say on a week night."

"Oh." I say dumbly. That information isn't really helping any though.

I'm waiting and waiting for this mad rush of people. But, they never come. Either Janet was yanking my chain and trying to rile me up about it busy or customers just didn't show up. I'd bet on the first one.

There are some people in the diner. I count eleven of them. Two groups- one of three, and one of four. There is a couple in the small corner booth and two men sit singularly at separate spots at the counter.

It's not too bad. I haven't screwed up anyone's order and I haven't spilled anything. It could be worse, I guess.

The bell chimes as the door opens, alerting me to another customer. I grab some menus in preparation of greeting the person or persons. I look up and my jaw drops open.

"Catching flies?" She says with a wicked grin.

"Brittany." I mumble.

"Yes, that's my name." She takes a seat at the counter.

"Sorry. Right." I slide the menu in front of her. "Can I start you off with something to drink?" I ask trying to remember what I am suppose to be saying and doing. Serving the customer is my number one priority no matter who it might be.

"So, you got a job here then?" She asks instead of saying what she wants to drink.

"Yeah." I confirm with the slightest of nods.

"Is this your first shift?" Her grin turn into a warm smile.

"Yeah."

"How has it been so far? Do you like it?" She sounds like she honestly wants to know. Like what I say will effect her somehow.

"I don't know. It's been pretty bad so far. I messed up a bunch of orders and dropped two glasses. I panicked when I thought a ton of people were going to come in for dinner. It's been a pretty bad day." Brittany nods and I continue. "Don't get me wrong I like this place. I like the people. But I don't know if I'm cut out to be a waitress. It's a lot harder than I thought it would be."

"Well-" She pauses and waves to someone on the other side of the room "-sorry. Everybody has nerve-wracking first days of work. If you weren't nervous I would say there's something wrong. It's normal to be anxious and nervous just try and do what you are suppose to and it will get better. Easier. In a week you will have everything down pat and you will be a pro. I promise."

I wrinkle my eyebrows at her. "You can't know that." I don't mean to sound so harsh or pessimistic but I don't see how she could say something like that.

"I don't but I also don't think it could get any worse than today. Think positive thoughts. I'll have water and a Seaburger and French Fries, please." She says without even looking at the menu.

I stand there in shock. This girl is far too much for me. She goes from talking about my shitty day to ordering her meal like it's the perfect segue. I blankly write down her order on my little pad. "Oh, and no onions, Santana. Please." I look up from writing to see her grinning at me with a toothy, goofy looking grin.

"Okay. I'll put this in and be right back with your water."

"Okay. Thanks."

I go to the kitchen and give the order to the head cook and then go to the drink machine, grabbing a cup. I hold the cup under the dispenser and push the water button. My thoughts drift back to what Brittany just said. I remember the first time we met. Me sitting at the counter- the exact stop she is sitting at now- and I remember what she said to me that day.

"I try to be friendly to everyone I meet and everyone I know. You never know when someone is having a bad day and a few kind words could totally change their whole day around."

She just did that for me. I was having a crappy ass day and now it's a little better. A little smile tries to fight it's way onto my face and I let it. That is until I feel something wet on my hand. I look down at it to see that the water is running over the top of the glass onto my hand. "Oh, for fuck's sake." I mumble under my breathe. I let go of the button, stopping the water flow, dumping a little of the very top of the glass so I don't spill it more.

I let my thoughts distract me and made another mess. Luckily, the drink machine caught most of the water that ran over but I will need to wipe the glass and my hand off before I bring it over to Brittany.

I get over to her and she is grinning wickedly at me. "You saw that, didn't you?"

She nods. "Yep, sure did." I feel my cheeks heat up in embarrassment. It's not the first time today. "Don't sweat it." She giggles.

I don't think I could be more frustrated with myself right now if I tried. I duck my chin to my chest and hope that she doesn't see me blushing. I see the movement out of the corner of my eye but it doesn't register in my brain what's happening.

I jolt at the contact and snap my head up to her. Her arm stretches across the counter and her hand rests gently on my forearm. "Just slow down." Brittany says in a quiet, calm voice.

I nod and takes some deep breathes. My heart rate slow considerable and I don't feel quite as frantic as I did a few seconds ago. I don't feel like I'm gonna spin out of control. I'm not sure if it's her words though, or her hand on my arm. Her thumb rubs softly over my skin and I try to concentrate on just breathing.

Everything seems easier after I took Brittany's advice. Her meal gets finished and I serve it to her without further incident. I smile at finally doing something successfully. It feels good to know that I can do this job. I can do it if I just slow my brain and heart down and just think everything through and then do it. Waitressing seems so much easier than it has all day long.

I let Brittany eat in relative peace. I check up on a few other customers and tend to a new table of three that arrived while Brittany was eating.

I'm sitting on a stool behind the counter watching and waiting for someone to need something from me. I've been watching Brittany most of the time. She is very intriguing and I don't know why. I don't know if it's her personality or the way she presents herself. I don't know if it's the clothes she is wearing or if it's the way she says hello to just about everyone who passes her.

She doesn't have on jeans and a tank top like the last time I saw her. No work boots either. It is Saturday, I suppose she doesn't have to work on the weekend like I do.

I clinking gets my attention. I shake the thoughts from my head and look around to see where the noise is coming from. Brittany. Of course. She is clicking her tongue. I squint at her. That's sort of an odd way to get someone's attention. She stops clicking and smiles. She lifts her hand in front of her face with the palm towards her, curling all finger but one. She motions for me to come over to her with her index finger in that come here gesture.

I get up and walk the few feet over to her. "Did you need something?" I ask with a raised eyebrow.

"When do you get off?" Her voice is considerably deeper than before. It startles me.

"W-what." I sputter.

She grins wickedly. "What time do you get done with work, Santana?" She asks in that same deep voice.

"S-seven." Why can't I speak right?

"Do you want to hang out tonight?" Brittany asks. I watch as she folds her hands on the top of the counter in front of her as she waits for my answer. She tilts her head to the said with that same grin on her face. I watch her eyes as they roam down my body. She licks her lips and returns her eyes to mine. I just stare at her. What is happening?

I don't know. I do want to hang out with her? And what does that imply? What does Brittany mean by hang out? She keeps sending me compliments and looking at my body like she wants to eat it for lunch. I don't know what I want to do. Brittany makes me feel different and I barely know her. And she barely knows me. But, at the same time nobody has ever made me feel like that. I don't even know what that feeling is but I know it feels good.

"Well?" Brittany breaks the silence that has surrounded us.

"My family is all at the house. I should go home after work." While it's the truth, it isn't quite what I want to say.

"Oh, that's right. Bummer. Maybe ano-" Brittany starts but gets interrupted by a shrill noise.

She stands up. "Sorry, I gotta go." She looks down at her side where a device is attached to the pocket of her shorts. She turns down the volume so it's just a whisper of noise.

"Is that a pager?" I blurt. I haven't seen one of those in person, ever. "Weren't those outlawed like 20 years ago?"

"Yeah." I watch as she takes a twenty out of her pocket and throws it on the counter. "I gotta go." She says again and runs out the door.

"Good luck." A customer by the door says as Brittany passes him. She jumps into her truck and speed away.

I'm left there speechless, staring out the window where Brittany's truck was parked a few seconds ago. I look back to the seat in front of me that she occupied a few seconds before that. The twenty dollar bills sits on the counter next to the plate of unfinished food. I didn't ring up her bill yet but it couldn't cost more than ten bucks. What am I supposed to do with the change? Is she coming back to get it? Is it my tip? Do I get to keep it? Why did she leave in such a hurry?

So, what are your thoughts? Why do you think Brittany had to leave in such a hurry?