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English was my favorite class. It challenged me in new ways, and it was interesting and in-depth. On top of everything it was a really small class. There were only fifteen people in it, and as of today, Santana had joined too. Apparently, she couldn't get along with the teacher, but that was just the rumor.
She walked into the classroom, silently and sat behind me. Her eyes were cold, like something was genuinely wrong, but I couldn't just ask her about it. Luckily Mr. Brooks asked us to get into groups, and I turned my desks around without even thinking of working with anyone else.
Santana looked disinterested, but I didn't let that discourage me. I just wanted to know that she was here, not just physically. I wanted to know that she was emotionally present. "Are you gonna help me with this?" I asked her as I continued working on the third question on the worksheet.
"What do you want me to do? It's not like I read." She looked tired, like she hadn't slept at all. "What?"
"If we don't finish this then we'll have to work on it tonight." I told her hoping that would get her to focus and try to participate. She just rested her head on her desk and looked up at me.
"I can't do it tonight, I'm busy." Santana said nonchalantly.
"Santana, quit slacking off, and help Rachel. Maybe she could teach you a thing or two." Mr. Brooks said, trying his best to embarrass Santana into being helpful. Santana sat up and took the paper from me and pulled out a pen. She covered what she was writing and after a few minutes she slid the paper back over to me.
She wasn't writing anything. She was drawing a humorous portrait of Mr. Brooks. She laughed when she saw my reaction, I tried not to give in and smile, so instead I pretended to look through my book and search for quotes. "I can't work on this, but I'll pay you back tomorrow."
"You know Mr. Williams talked to me about you this morning. He says that maybe I could tutor you." Santana sat back in her seat and crossed her arms over her chest. "It's just an idea, only if you want."
"I don't want a fucking tutor, so Mr. Williams can shove it." Santana looked up at the clock and then back to me. She checked her phone and groaned, like she'd just received some pretty bad news. "Actually maybe we could work on it later after all. Right after school?"
"I can't, I have dance." Santana's expression was curious and for some reason it made me look away quickly.
"Of course." Santana muttered. "Then I'll pick you up from dance, just tell your dad you're at Kurt's or something."
"I don't want to lie to him." I said quietly.
"Or tell him the truth, that you're gonna be at my shitty apartment in the Heights. Whatever you want." Santana reached down and grabbed her backpack just in time for the bell. "Where's your dance studio? Write it down." Santana ripped a sheet of paper out of her notebook and handed it to me. I wrote down the address of my studio and handed it to me. "I'm gonna need your phone number too, just in case." I wrote that down too and handed it over, she stuffed it in her pocket and we stood there staring at one another for a moment.
"How late do you think I'll be over there?"
"You scared?"
"I didn't say that." Even though I was most certainly thinking it. "I'll see you after practice then." Santana nodded and we both headed for the door. I couldn't help it, I was curious to see how she would act when we got away from it all. Maybe she'd be completely different, like she was when we were kids.
Maybe not.
Ballet practice was tough. I was exhausted, and I knew that I would be relaxed once I got home. That's when I realized, I wasn't going home, Santana was picking me up. I looked around for her car, and she was sitting on her hood smoking a cigarette and texting on her phone. I approached her slowly, partially because I liked to see her at peace like this, but mostly because I was legitimately tired.
Santana looked up at me when I cleared my throat, and her eyes found their way to my own. "Wow, did ballet kick your ass?" Santana asked as she slid off the car and laughed at me. "You look like you've been through hell."
"Thanks." Santana took my bag and stuffed it in the backset of her car. I got into the passenger's side seat while Santana tossed her cigarette and got in too. "How long did you have to wait?"
"Like twenty years, does it take you that long to change?" Santana questioned as we started driving towards her apartment.
"I'm sorry, I was just really tired." I didn't want to make her upset but she didn't seem to really mind that I was late. "I didn't know you lived in an apartment." I said in a mild attempt at a subject change.
"Yeah, it's not that great." Santana didn't want to say anything else so I just left it alone. "So how old are those girls in your class?"
"Everyone's seventeen, except me." I told her. "Why?"
"Cute girls dancing, never a bad thing." Luckily Santana pulled into her parking lot so I didn't have to respond. "So just stick by me, okay? It's kinda sketchy, sorry." Santana walked up to the front door and used her key to get in. We went straight for the elevator and for some off reason Santana seemed a little tenser than she did earlier.
Once we made it to her floor she led the way, walking with purpose until she saw someone further down the hallway. She grabbed my hand and pushed me against the wall. Her hands moved to my hips and in a flash her lips were so close to mine, I could taste her. "Close your eyes." She whispered to me, she was insistent so I did so.
No questions asked.
I thought she was going to kiss me, maybe I wanted her to, but instead she pulled back and exhaled after the man got on the elevator. There were questions now, a million running through my head, but all I could do was stare at Santana. "Jeez stop looking at me like that, I'm sorry, that dude's got beef with me. I knew he wouldn't mess with me if I was with you." Santana walked towards her door and opened it, letting me in first. "He was a bad guy, would you have preferred it if I kissed you?"
I didn't answer, instead Santana led us to her apartment. She opened the door for me and walked in behind me. It wasn't that bad, I mean it was a small studio apartment, but it was clean, and I could tell that Santana lived here. She had posters everywhere, a lot of bands, and a lot of girls. "So the worksheet?" I snapped out of it and walked over to sit down on Santana's couch.
She opened her refrigerator and I dug into my bag to pull out the worksheet. I only looked up when I heard a bottle cap fall to the ground. Santana sat down next to me with a beer in her hand. "What are you doing?" She couldn't be serious.
"What? Do you want one?" She asked like she had no idea why I was upset.
"No, I just…why are you drinking?"
"I drink a lot." She said with a shrug. "So about this worksheet. I thought I'd have time to read after school but Noah was being a prick and I didn't." I wasn't disappointed, I was just surprised that she cared enough to say so.
"It's okay." I told her honestly. "I'll just work on it and you can read it over afterwards." Santana nodded and took a sip of her beer. She seemed a lot older, older than me at least. She was living here all alone, I didn't want to ask why, I assumed her parents had kicked her out. I was doing homework and she was drinking a beer, none of this felt natural.
"So what have you been up to?" I was confused by the question.
"What do you mean? Like today?"
"No more like over the past few years. In case you haven't noticed I've been kind of AWOL. You're not this cute little 6th grader anymore." Santana took another drink before setting her beer down.
"I'm not cute?" Santana's eyes scanned my body before smirking.
"No." Santana's smirk let me know that she was only kidding. "You're like smart as hell though, right?"
"What am I supposed to say?" I asked her honestly. I knew that I was doing well in school, but I never liked to brag. It was tasteless.
"It's okay you don't have to answer." Santana's head dropped a little and she did her best at avoiding my eyes. "So about that whole tutoring thing…I mean, I know what I said earlier, but…fuck." Santana seemed legitimately nervous and that was the last thing I wanted. If she needed help then I was more than willing to help her. "I need C's by December or they'll kick me out." I didn't realize how desperate she was and how much she really needed someone to help her.
"I can help you. I'd be happy to." Santana smiled and casually wrapped her arm around my shoulder. I was finishing up the worksheet, when I felt Santana's hand on my knee. "I'm done. You can check over it tomorrow before English, if that's okay." I put the paper in my backpack trying to ignore the sensation of Santana gently rubbing her hand against my knee. "What are you doing?" Santana moved her hand higher and under my skirt.
I didn't know if I should push her away or smack her, because she kept her hand under my skirt like it was normal. "I'm paying you back for the worksheet." She went to grab my panties, but I pushed her hand away. "What's wrong?"
"I don't want you to pay me back, not like this." I assured her.
"Well then what should I do? I don't have any more drugs on me." She seemed so scared, like if she didn't repay me somehow then I would just hang her out to dry.
"You don't have to do anything." I assured her. "A thank you will suffice."
"A thank you? Thank you doesn't mean shit." She said with a frustrated sigh. She seemed so confused that I didn't want anything more from her. "What's with you? Don't you want to feel good?"
"I've never done something like that before. I just…it's not right, and I don't want you to think you ever have to do something like that to thank me." Santana searched my eyes for something more before looking down. "Do you do that a lot?"
"It's what everyone wants from me. Sex or drugs." Santana shrugged. "It's what people want, to feel good you know."
"When I dance I feel good, when I'm with family or friends I feel good." I explained to her.
"I don't have any of those things though." Santana downed the rest of her beer and set the bottle down. "So what can I do?" Santana stood up and walked back over to her fridge and grabbed another beer. I felt too uncomfortable to tell her not to so I waited for her to join me again on the couch. "Okay, so did I fuck up or what?" She didn't sound upset, actually I could see a little smile forming on her face.
"Kinda." I said as I was trying to keep it cool. "But it's okay."
"I guess sex on a couch isn't that classy, huh?" I didn't know how to respond. I hadn't ever really thought about anything like that. Ever. "Unless you've done it before."
"I haven't." I said quickly.
"Why are you suddenly getting all shy? I think I hit a nerve." Santana was loosening up, mostly because of the beer. I didn't know where this was going but I didn't like it's direction. Luckily for me, there was a knock at the door that interrupted. Santana groaned and stood, walking over to her door absentmindedly.
I didn't see the guy walk in until Santana walked into her kitchen again and rummaged through her drawer. The man was about 5'10, sort of lanky, with a rugged looking beard. Santana didn't seem worried so I pretended like I wasn't either. He looked at me and smiled. "Hey cutie." Santana walked over and stood between me and the guy.
"Shut up Jeremy." Santana handed him a wad of cash. Santana looked over her shoulder at me with a smirk. "She is cute though, huh?" I looked away trying to conceal my blush. It also didn't help that they were so close to me.
"So you have any problems?" Jeremy asked Santana.
"Kids are buying they always buy. But the administration's probably gonna crack down, especially if it involves the football plays. The principle has a hard-on for drugs. I would know." Santana crossed her arms over her chest, not defensively, but it was like she was trying to come up with a solid plan. "I'm gonna be fucked if they bring in dogs."
"Keep the shit in your car, or have the kids come here-."
"No uppity Lima kid's gonna take the trek out here moron. Tell your guy I need more time. If he wants his money then he'll realize he needs me around I'm not gonna get screwed over this." Jeremy didn't look convinced.
"Your girlfriend isn't gonna fuck you if she sees you acting all scared." Jeremy said.
"She's not gonna fuck me anyway. Hell I wouldn't fuck me. Look it'll get done, just tell those guys to stay away from my place, the cops are heavy here. I'm looking out." Santana patted Jeremy's shoulder. "Now would you get out of here?"
"Want an 8 or something. I've got X too if you want." Santana was already walking him towards the door. I couldn't hear them anymore, but I did see Santana slip something into her pocket before he left. I decided again, to play it cool. So Santana was into drugs, things could be worse, I just had to avoid judging her and just accept things, it was better that way.
"Sorry about that, I didn't know he was coming over."
"Are you two friends?" I asked her curiously.
"Friends? No." Santana shook her head and sat back down next to me. "I don't have any of those remember."
"You could have some, if you wanted to." Santana's eyes lingered for a moment before she looked down again.
"No thanks, I do better without." Santana leaned back and she was going to say something but decided against it. "Let me rest for a little bit, sober up and then I'll take you home. Will your dads be pissed?"
"They might ask you for a breathalyzer test." I joked. I didn't realize it wasn't funny until I saw her face. I hurt her, I genuinely hurt her.
"Why because it's me?"
"No, I didn't mean it like that…it was a joke, like all teenagers are bad, not just…I'm sorry." Santana put on her best fake smile.
"It's okay, Rachel, everything's okay."
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