Rachel's POV
I could only hear muffled voices but I knew that something was off. Santana didn't really do quiet well when she was angry which I made a mental note of before massaging my shoulder. I realized about three minutes in that Santana was still at the door. A few ruffled clothes and a thud later I knew that Santana was being manhandled. I chanced a glance and saw that Santana had her back against the wall with her forearm pressed against someone's chest to keep him at a distance. I ducked back to where I'd been a moment before just to avoid getting caught.
"For fuck's sake." Santana said. Even though she was clearly in danger the laugh that escaped her lips let me know that she wasn't that afraid. Or better yet, she was putting on one heck of a performance just to keep me safe. "Why don't you ask your boyfriend? Brett sure knows how to screw us all over anyway." The guy let Santana go and she fixed her shirt. Santana was about to say something else when I could hear footsteps moving further into the apartment.
"Brett's not even my friend. And for the record, you gipped me on that pot last week so I'm guessing we're about even now." Wait. Wait. Why did that voice sound so familiar? It sounded just like…
"Noah?" I whispered. Only it wasn't a whisper it was more like a full volume yelp.
"You got ghosts here?" Puck asked Santana. I could feel Santana's eyes roll before I even climbed up to my feet. Puck's mouth hung agape while I turned my attention to Santana. "Whoa. This is…somehow worse."
"Santana it's just Noah. You didn't have to give me a heart attack." I assure her. She just went to the fridge and opened a beer for Puck who had yet to close his mouth. "And I saw you push her, you jerk…face. Watch it, buddy."
"I didn't realize it was Puck. I thought it might be one of the many assholes I deal with daily. I was just trying to protect you." Santana replied. She reached out and tapped the bottom of Puck's to get him to focus. "And besides, he was just leaving. Right Noah."
"Dude, what's Berry doing here?" Noah asked as he took a drink. His smile stuck but somehow along the way morphed into a perplexed glare. "Cause if you got some kind of warped drug smuggling ring going on here I want in."
"Would you shut up? Berry's just tutoring me." Santana said. "Happy?"
"It would be better if you were at least fucking-." Santana started shoving Puck back towards the door. She was small and tipsy but strong enough to get him halfway before he started fighting back. "Okay. Fine, Jesus." Puck nudged Santana away. "Look…all I was saying is that you should back off the hockey team. They're worse than football players by like a million. And they're seriously twisted."
"I gotta pay rent, Puck. I'll be careful though. Scout's honor." Santana said. They shared a look, one I couldn't quite place before Puck chugged the rest of his beer and handed the empty bottle back to Santana.
"Bye Tana." Puck turned to me and gave me a wink. "Bye Berry." I gave him a tight smile before he left the apartment. Santana tosses the bottle into her trashcan, shuddering when the glass smashed against something. Santana looked over at me and sighed.
"What was that?" I questioned.
"You pretty much got the bulk of it." Santana nodded at the couch and we returned to our previous position. "Puck's all up in arms about the hockey v. football drama. Football players are all into weed but hockey players are on another level. Speed, coke sometimes. And their parties are a shitshow." Santana shakes her head. "But hockey guys are rich and all white so…the administrations not gonna touch them if they get caught."
"So why get involved with those guys?" I groaned. "Not that I'm condoning any of this behavior." Santana smiled a little to herself, sitting on my words for a moment.
"Winter is the fucking worst. This place gets no heat. And we get squatters sometimes and they grab me sometimes and try and take my shit. And shelters have great people but they are so underfunded that they do lottos for food now." Santana scratched the back of her head. "I'm too young for a job worth having. Those hockey dirtbags pretty much keep me alive for 5 months, I'm not gonna give it up because Puck's a crybaby."
I thought about asking her how she really feels about all of this. Right now she seemed determined to make things seem right. Probably in her own mind. But I remember how quickly she latched to me when I offered to tutor her. She wanted to drive me from practice. To be around me. Maybe she had lingering ulterior motives. But she was definitely lonely. And if those hockey guys were so desperate to get high, maybe she enjoyed the thrill of people needing her.
Because she didn't feel wanted.
Santana was really…all over the place. Reckless habits might have to die hard later on but for now? Things might be alright.
Santana's POV
Poser cheerleaders in push up bras are my worst nightmare. They're just so pushy when they want to be looked at every second of every day. Some of them were freshmen but they never really changed over time. Except Brittany. But even then, she hung around girls who would kill for a look from one of the popular guys and that was so hideous to me.
And, oh God, what I would do to get a moment of peace in this place. Thirty minutes with Ms. Pillsbury was just about the highlight of every day for me and she basically thought I was a walking garbage can. Granted, she did think that about everyone else so at least I've got that going for me.
Right now, though, my biggest issue was getting the lunch lady to give me a free meal. I'd even settle for a side of chips. Or an apple. "Santana?" I turned around and peeked my head over the crowd, spotting Rachel and Kurt waving at me. Considering the lunch lady might be so annoyed by dealing with high schoolers by the time I got to the front of the line, I figured joining Kurt and Rachel further back in the line might actually work in my favor.
"Hey guys. How's it going?" I asked. Just as the words fell out of my mouth, I noticed a purple tint on Kurt's white shirt. That was definitely not a fashion choice. "Ohhhh…yikes."
"No yikes is an understatement. I have ice in places that God himself cannot even see. I am…livid." Kurt said, cheeks bright red from anger. Rachel gave Kurt all the sympathy she could without attempting to quell his anger. "Dave can eat a dick." Kurt quipped. I liked him. Even though I knew Kurt talked shit behind my back and probably disliked most parts of me, I liked the guy. Being the two out queer people in school could be hell and hell manifested in different ways for us. Kurt got slushied. Names thrown at him from all directions. But me? Hate filled looks in locker rooms, drawings on bathroom stall. I was just a joke for a lot of people but Kurt was actually dangerous to them.
Sometimes I envied him. Jokes were nothing. Danger was always real.
"I'll slash his tires if you want. They practice till like 6 on Tuesdays, no one would know." Kurt laughed so loudly that the group of students in front of us turned around.
"God, you're fantastic." Kurt said as he wrapped his arm around my shoulder. "You're sitting with us today, right?"
"That's assuming I'll actually get something to eat. That's still sorta up in the air." Rachel reached out and tapped my shoulder. I adverted her attention from the lunch lady and looked back at Rachel. "Hm?"
"Even with the risk of bodily harm, I was wondering if you wanted me to pay for your lunch." I arched a brow but a moment later a smile broke out.
Rachel's POV
"That would be cool." Santana said just as we were approaching the front of the line. I paid for her and in the haste of grabbing food and finding our tables, I didn't notice how little Santana was actually eating until now. Some carrots, a bread roll, and a scoop of corn.
"You're not hungry?" I asked while Kurt was trying to get Mercedes' attention as she waited in line. Kurt got fed up and decided to go over and talk to Mercedes rather than wave his arms around like a maniac. Santana looked up from her partially dry plastic bag of carrots.
"What? No…I am." Santana bit the inside of her cheek. I quickly tried to cover my tracks.
"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to…I mean…" I pointed at my tray, a salad and an apple was all I could stand to eat at this place. "I'm a vegan so I shouldn't be questioning you about your food choices. It can be distressing-."
"Don't worry." Santana assured me. She glanced over at Kurt who was laughing at something Mercedes said. I followed her eyes, they stayed on them for a long moment. "Kurt knows Mercedes?"
"Yeah." I took a bite of my salad and looked up. It took me a moment to notice that Santana's eyes were still on them. "Do you her?"
"What? Her? Nah…no way." Santana said all too quickly. Her eyes met mine and she shifted in her seat. "So…glee?"
"Are you changing the subject or are you really willing to go through an extensive in depth look at the show choir world?" I asked her seriously. She laughed and stuck a carrot in her mouth.
"Bring it."
"Fine." I waved to Mercedes and Kurt as they joined our table. I made a mental note of how Santana glanced at Mercedes first before I continued to speak. "Show choir is a miraculous art form-."
"Oh Christ, Rachel. Don't bore the girl to death." Kurt said.
"Seriously." Mercedes said. "Unless you're interested in joining and also want to have your ears talked off."
"Me? No way. I was just trying to help." Santana told Mercedes. "I can talk to Ms. Pillsbury after school. And she'll be blabbing to Shue in no time." Santana stuffed another carrot in her mouth. Mercedes looks on wearily.
"But what if he says no? I mean he may just be a lame Spanish teacher but he has a wife, you know? Making time after school for a club of only three people…it might not work." I resented Mercedes' negativity but respected her willingness to speak her mind. And it's not like she was wrong, it was going to be so difficult getting him to agree to do this.
"No, you can't think like that. You want this right?" Mercedes nodded, Kurt too. Santana looked right at me. "Rachel?"
"Of course I do."
"Good. Then let's make it happen."
As it turns out, Santana wasn't the only one gaining more confidence as the days wore on. Maybe it was because the football season was almost over and winter was only a month and a half away but whatever it was I was feeling pretty good. Especially when Brittany Pierce and I talked pretty much every day.
I hadn't been slushied in a while and I wanted to keep it that way. The only thing that could make today better was if Santana actually got Ms. Pillsbury to convince Mr. Shue to be our club advisor. I trusted her. Something about her gave me faith. "Rachel!" I looked up just in time to see Brittany jogging toward me. She was in uniform today which told me that either Quinn Fabray was trying to assert her authority or there was a game coming up.
"Hi, Brittany."
"What went on last night? I mean I thought you and San were at odds and then you just left with her?" Brittany followed me to my locker. "And now you're all chummy."
"Not chummy. But we're okay." I told her as I opened my locker. "But something almost did sort of happen last night." I cringed because I could feel Brittany's eyes go wide. "But it was because she was drinking. Which totally doesn't count-."
"Be careful, Rachel. I know she's cute but you don't want things to get complicated when you're just trying to be friends." Brittany pulled her hair out of her ponytail. "You and her used to be friends in middle school, right?"
"Yeah. Sorta."
"I totally wanted to be her friend." Brittany said with a chuckle. "She's still so cute." Brittany sighed. "So…wanna blow off practice? We could go to the arcade?" Brittany said with a smile. "Oh my god, it could be so fun! You can bring Kurt and Santana, if you want."
"Do you think we'll get in trouble?"
"It's one day." Brittany assured me. "It'll be amazing."
Amazing was, perhaps, and understatement. Brittany was halfway through guzzling two sodas and she was practically bouncing off the walls. Mercedes was crashing so many times on her NASCAR game that I couldn't even watch anymore. And Kurt. Oh my god. He was so good at Pacman that Santana and I were starting to make bets about how long we'd be here tonight.
And suddenly Santana's arm was around my shoulder while we sat at a sticky arcade table. And she smelled like cigarettes and peppermints and maybe whatever purple soda she was drinking earlier. "Okay so…you never said how it went. Which makes me think bad things."
"No, it went fine." Santana waved me off. "She was excited. She told me that if this club works out she thinks that a lot of people might join. And she'll encourage them to. And…" Santana grinned. "She knows of quote just the guy unquote to help us out."
"Mr. Shue."
"Yep." Santana pulled her arm back and let her fingers play on the table for a moment. "Poulsbo, Washington. You ever heard of that?"
"No."
"I was there for a bit this year. I got caught up in this thing and put into foster care. It's a small as shit town but beautiful. My foster mom was really nice. She liked fishing and cats and sometimes she would make this white hot chocolate concoction that was the best thing I have ever had." Santana gripped her hands together. "I think I loved her. Like…fleeting love."
"Why did you leave?" I asked quietly. Amongst the pings and laser beams, quiet seemed to soothe Santana.
"My parents are here." She said firmly. "Buried and cold. But here."
"You didn't have to tell me that." She reached over and grabbed my hand.
"I saw you watching me watch Mercedes and I thought I should explain." She started. "I called a couple of churches when I was going back to Ohio. One place gave me some food, clothes…a home for a few days. Mercedes…she picked me up from the bus station." Santana shrugged. "I've kept my distance since then. I don't really know what she thinks of me. I'm not sure if I should bring it up."
"She's a good person."
"Yeah." Kurt finally managed to lose and Brittany squealed when a stream of at least one hundred tickets came pouring out of the machine.
"Hey, guys! Let's get more candy with these!" Brittany yelled as she started snatching up the tickets.
