"Vanity is the quicksand of reason" George Sand

With the newest development on Santana's perception of her, Rachel was starting to see their friendship in a new light. She, somehow, newly enjoyed being in her presence. Strange, it could have seemed for someone observing the evolution of their relationship from an external point of view but it wasn't that much. Rachel loved to be the center of attention. She loved to be admired.

As much as Rachel used to dislike any physical contact with the Latina, she suddenly couldn't get enough of it. It wasn't that she enjoyed the physical aspect of touching her because she did not; it was more that she was pleased to see the reactions they would generate. She had, for example, realized that when she returned the soft, slightly tickling, caresses the other girl tended to unconsciously give to her arms and legs while they sat beside one another, Santana listened much more to what she had to say, smiled at her from time to time, and even giggled if she was in a particularly good mood. She was amused by how Santana would flush every time she would let her lips linger on her cheeks, a bit longer than necessary, after kissing them. More than all, she enjoyed to see Santana shiver under her fingers whenever she ran them over her neck or down her back. It was as if her touch could magically transform a tiger into a purring cat and it made her feel special, unique, extraordinary…

One could have believed that this abrupt change in Rachel's behavior meant that her heart was warming up to her, but it was not the case. On the contrary, it was simply a new way she had found to express her disdain of her. What Rachel liked about this novelty in their relationship was that it put her in a position of superiority to the other girl. She was the one with the upper hand because Santana, though she did not talk about it, seemed to be starting to care about her. Still, it was not enough. Except for that single moment of weakness in the car, Santana did not confide in her. Rachel was starting to believe that she did not confide in anybody at all, not even to Brittany. It probably was the reason why she used to enjoy her company as much because with Brittany there was no need to have serious conversations. Rachel needed more than that.

Often, Santana would invite her over after cheerleading practice.

"Hey Rach," She whispered in her ear once while they were changing. "I have a surprise for after."

"What kind of surprise?" She replied nervously. Somehow, the combination of "Santana" and "surprise" did not appeal to her.

Santana gave her a wicked smile, reached for the back of her uniform top, and unzipped it. She threw it carelessly over her bag.

"You'll see" Then, she was off to speak to Quinn about their routine while discarding lazily the rest of her clothes. Rachel had noticed that now that they seemed close again, Santana would be giving the head cheerleader advices, instead of her aggressive opinion, on how to proceed. Well, at times her advices would be said a bit roughly but Quinn was more patient with her than she used to and would sometimes even apply them.

Rachel sighed. She would have to do something about that eventually. She removed her uniform swiftly because she did not want someone to see the marks on her stomach, covered her body with a towel, and walked towards the showers. She took her shower with her eyes closed because she couldn't bear to look at herself. The water running on her skin was hot, inviting, and she was able to relax. Soon, she would be back into her horrifying reality but for a moment, in this comfortable haven, she could be herself again.

She stayed like this for more time than she had thought because, when she got out, the other cheerleaders were gone. There was only Santana left, lying on a bench in the middle of two rows of lockers. She had music in her ears and her eyes were close. One of her feet was swaying over the ground in a hypnotizing pendulum motion. She was humming happily the song that was playing on her I-pod.

Rachel opened her locker and took out her perfectly folded clothes.

"It took you some time." Santana told her and Rachel heard her body shift.

She froze. She knew the Latina was looking in her direction. She turned on herself. Santana was now in a sitting position and she was facing her.

"Could you look to the other side while I change?" Santana seemed taken aback by her hard tone.

"Okay…" She rolled her eyes exaggeratedly and sat towards the other side.

Without ever taking off the towel, she put back her clothes. She was scared that Santana might take a peek at her, that she would see her skin, see her naked, see what she did to herself, see who she was, see how ugly she was. When it was over, she exhaled deeply and sat down next to the other girl. Santana was scowling.

"I'm ready to go." Rachel told her softly.

Santana did not answer. Instead, she took out her cell phone and replied to a text message. Rachel frowned when she realized the content of the reply was entirely sexual. She did not understand how Santana could find a way to sneak in her depravity into every single aspect of her life.

"I said that I was ready to go." Rachel insisted.

Santana glared at her. Her eyes were so hard that it made the singer gasp.

"I know. I heard you the first time." She took her bag and walked towards the door. Rachel stayed still. She was stunned by the Latina's sudden mood shift.

"Santana, I don't understand what is going on. Did I do something wrong? Look at me when I speak to you." Santana turned towards her and pressed her back against the door.

"Patrick's parents are having a romantic evening and he invited me over." She crossed her arms over her chest and her chin rose in sharp way. "I think I'm going to go at his place."

Rachel stood up and crossed the distance between them. Santana flinched and took a step back, opening the door as she did so.

"We were supposed to spend the evening together." She squeaked trying not to sound too desperate. "You told me you had a surprise."

"Yeah, well, things have changed." Santana replied coldly. Nothing like that had ever happened before. It was terrifying.

"That's it? Rachel's frustration was flowing so energetically through her body that she could barely conceal it. "That is the only explanation I'm allowed to have?"

Santana seemed to hesitate. She took a small step forward. She opened her mouth to speak but, then, her eyes took that infuriating stoic expression that made her absolutely unreadable.

Rachel looked down. She grazed Santana's fingers with the tip of her own. Seeing that the other girl wasn't running away from her touch, she let her fingers slide across caramel skin, around her wrist, and down to her hand again which she explored gently, afraid that a sudden movement might scare the Latina off. When she looked back up, Santana swallowed hard. Dark eyes, defiant eyes, scrutinized Rachel for what seemed eternity.

"I need to hump something." Santana jerked her hand backward and looked away.

"What?" Santana gave a violent push to the door.

"You said you wanted a more explicit explanation." And, just like that, she was gone.