"SAGA BERRY-LOPEZ AND FABRAY" was originally written in 2010-2011 in Portuguese
...
EGG
(Quinn)
I was naked below the waist. Puck was on the top of me doing rhythmic movements with his hips. Back and forth, back and forth. In and out, in and out. I could feel him inside, but if it was good or not, well, that's a kind of opinion I couldn't make. The alcohol confounded my mind and my body wasn't reacting as I think it should be. I needed to rearrange my ideas. Point one: I was in bed with Puck. Point two: we were having sex, obviously. Point three: that was my first time. Point four: I drank too much wine. Point five: my self-esteem was low.
How did I get from point A to point B?
Let's see, It began with the previous week events. William Schuester, the Spanish teacher, re-open the Glee Club under new management and concept after some student reported Sandy Ryerson for sexual harassment. Not that I care. That guy was a truly creeper. Mr. Schuester set up a new coral with the old presence of Rachel Berry-Lopez, plus the wheelchair's boy, the gay boy, Mercedes Jones and the freshman gothic Asian girl. What a precious combination of losers. I felt sorry for Rachel: she never attended a winning initiative.
I was kind of happy for another potential resounding failure of the number 1 diva of McKinley High. That keeps Finn far far away from her. But things changed when I went to one of the breaks and I saw Santana laughing with Brittany at a table in the outdoor courtyard.
"Hey!" – I approached the duo – "Good news?"
"Maybe" – Santana tried in vain hold on her laughter. I was officially confused.
"Did you hear about the new Glee Club? Mercedes Jones almost strangled your sister."
Santana burst out laughing again. Brittany, by then, was caring for her secret lover doesn't choke or anything.
"The Glee Club..." – Santana tried to breathe to speak – "that bunch of losers ..." – and laughed. I didn't understand what's up.
"What happened?" – I asked directly to Brittany because Santana was unable to establish a regular dialogue.
"Haven't you heard?" - Brittany smiled.
"Heard what?"
"Your boyfriend joined the choir."
"I knew he was gay!" - Santana burst out laughing again.
My world stopped. Not in a million years I could be prepared for that. Santana couldn't control her laughter. I understood why she was having so much fun. This is good for her and terrible to me. The news impact makes me unable to think fast to answer or maybe threat Santana. I was so furious. I didn't care if Finn was part of a thousand Glee Clubs and performer like a drag queen. The point was: he and Rachel Berry-Lopez were together, singing twice or three times a week for who knows how long. Rachel didn't hide the crush for my boyfriend, and Finn wasn't hard to read. He'd leave me for the first innocent pretty girl who treats him as if he was the center of universe.
"Say it's not true! Say you didn't join that group of losers!" – I shut the door of his locker in his face. He jumped back and pulled me gently to an empty room, as we talk about the most sensitive issue in the world. At that moment, it was.
"I had no choice, okay? I was forced..."
"By whom?"
"It doesn't matter. Look Quinn. That's no big. We only have a few rehearsals per week. It won't mess my football drills. And I kind of like singing."
"Finn Hudson, you have half an hour to go to that teacher and say you're out."
"Quinn… that's not possible right now, ok?"
Finn touched my arm as if he wanted to make me understood, but I left the room and slammed the door in the process. I needed to think beyond the shock. I felt anger, fear, paranoia, jealousy. I needed a contingency plan. Puck was in the right place and time when I saw him chatting with some friends. Extreme situations require drastic measures.
"Hello Puckerman" – I forced a smirk – "Could we talk in private?"
"Sure" – he put the smirk on his face as we went to a discreet corner - "What do you want, princess?"
"Finn joined the choir."
"So what if he wants to be a loser?"
"He can't. I want you to make his life a living hell to the point Finn won't see other solution but quit."
"And what do I get in return?"
"Me!"
I couldn't believe what I was doing. It was totally irrational. I had just offered myself to Noah Puckerman, the school manwhore just to keep Finn Hudson away from Rachel Berry-Lopez. The idea of seeing them together and singing to each other churned my stomach. My morale at the school would be shaken as well my popularity and my sanity. Finn could have any girl behind my back, anyone, but Rachel Berry-Lopez.
I almost sick over when I heard Finn was on a date with Rachel and the rest of the losers to attend a performance of Carmel's Glee Club. Why she appeared in my life? Why she had to study in McKinley just to torment me, to distract my thoughts and my feelings? If I hadn't come across her every day at school, so I wouldn't question my desires, my sexuality, and perhaps I would be happier having Finn. I prayed to Puck do his job right. I wished he attacked my boyfriend in a way to make him quit.
It almost happened. When Finn said he was out, for a brief moment, I was one of the happiest people in the world. I was even willing to reward my boyfriend. Perhaps I would finally allow him to touch my breasts. Maybe I'll make him happy with my hand under his pants. I could do that. But then, in the next day, I saw him talking to Rachel in the school hallways. I tried to show her who was boss. Santana even accompanied me. That's when I realized Finn changed his mind.
At the end of the week, Santana and I were walking the hallways after classes when we saw the movement of the jazz clubbers. They were loading instruments into the auditorium. Nothing interesting with that. That's when Mercedes Jones, the gay boy and the asian girl passed by us, helping to carry equipment. They were wearing red shirts, like a uniform. And they were laughing.
"Apparently the losers go up to something" – Santana said, but she didn't really care. She was indifferent to almost everything but her precious Britt, popularity and the way Puck fill her vagina up.
I warned the coach, who was not happy with the possibility to lose some school resources with that stupid Glee Club. She decided to see what was happening. Santana and I followed. We entered in the back of the auditorium and got access to the technical area where they wouldn't see us. From the balcony, we heard the music.
My heart pounded in conflict. For the first time I watched Rachel Berry-Lopez singing live. They were performing "Don't Stop Believin', by an ancient rock band Journey, with pure joy. Rachel's powerful voice invaded my ears in a pleasant way. She sounded so different than those poorly audio videos she posts on MySpace. And she was also in lovely normal clothes, with her hair loose. So beautiful. I almost lost it.
Rachel was so happy singing with my boyfriend and the others. One of my nightmares came true there. Finn seemed more accomplished dancing and singing with that egocentric diva than all the times I gave him some joy. Sooner or later, her talent would overcome my classical beauty. I lost Finn right there, I knew it.
"That's not good enough" – I tried to minimize with Santana - "Singing a bad rock song? Doing a sloppy dance? Ridiculous." – my bitch pose almost collapsed with the response from my second in command.
"I know I have to root against them because they are the losers. It's part of the school game. But my sister was amazing and they were good. They were having fun right there, and that's ok. Another thing: Don't Stop Believin isn't a bad rock song, Fabray. It's a classic."
Santana left me alone when she saw Brittany going down the hallways and ran after her. I was planted there, unable to move, without floor. I walked slowly to my locker, when I heard a group of cheerios complain about the celibacy club. They didn't notice my presence.
"We need to find a way to fight that fat bitch. I hate pretending to like her even more after that damn club" – said one. I knew they were talking about me.
"I agree about the damn club. But if is not her, who would be our captain? You?" – questioned another - "I don't think you could deal with Sylvester."
"What if we start supporting Lopez?" – said a third. I will so kill them…
I was so sick. Fat bitch? That was the last straw. I went home with serious crisis of esteem. If I had known better, I would have seen a movie an eat ice cream. Or maybe I would have chosen the classic combination: popcorn and cola-cola. The soda would be iced enough to end my throat. I would get real sick and stay away from that school for three days. But no! Instead of consuming calories and trans fat, I called Puck.
My parents were out of town. They left in the morning to a business congress in Dayton, these made especially for entrepreneurs and investors. Then they are going to stretch the trip to Cincinnati to visit my grandfather. In summary, I would be alone for the next three days.
Puck arrived with a bottle of cheap wine wrapped in a paper bag. He smirked when I opened the door.
"Hello" – he said seductive - "I knew you'd ask me sooner or later."
"Get in and please, don't speak so much."
Puck knew how to get comfortable in someone else's house. He grabbed a bottle and offered me a cup. Look: plastic cup: the first one he found in the kitchen. No wine glass, no refined atmosphere. Just an ordinary cup to put the cheap wine on while we were trying to establish a small talk.
"Why did you call me since I couldn't get Finn of the losers club?"
"Maybe I like you."
"Really?" - he smiled.
"Maybe I just want to feel good today" – I finished the first cup and filled the second time.
"Tough day?"
"Very."
"Aren't you going too fast?"
"Fast is good" - Puck stared at me. Looking at him wasn't that bad. I liked the tanned skin he got cleaning pools. Puck also had a beautiful and strong body for a 17 year old. Although there were rumors he took steroids.
Puck closed distance and kissed me. He knew what how to do stuff. I was feeling good and I just kept making out and drinking some more. I didn't mind when he touched my breasts. I needed to feel wanted somehow. I felt a good shiver as he lay on me and started to stroke my legs slowly further up until I felt his hand on my sex above my pants. That's it: the piece of meat of the night was guaranteed.
"You're wet. How about we go to your room and get more comfortable?" – he suggested, while kissing my ear and devouring my neck - "Unless you want to do it here, on this couch" - bedroom was better. I couldn't lose my virginity on the couch in the living room.
I drank more wine. My thoughts began to get blurry and it was good. Puck waited until I finish the bottle before going to bed and lay on me in the process.
"Say I'm not fat!"
"You're in great shape, babe" - he focused his attention to my legs and lead me to open them the way he could lay between.
Puck moved his pelvis against my sex and I started to feel things as never happened with Finn. I knew it's the time and so as Puck.
"Do you have protection?" - I asked when he brought his hands to take off my skirt.
"Of course" – I trusted him.
Puck pulled down my skirt and panties at once. He threw the clothes on the floor and lay back down over me, kissing my mouth, my neck, my breasts. He took off his shirt and knelt for a moment to unbutton his jeans. I saw an adult erect dick in front of me for the first time. Of course there are the internet porn videos, but seeing it few inches apart, the smelling… everything was so new.
"I bet you've never seen one like my puckssaurus" – he was really proud of his hard and big dick.
"I'm a virgin." – He wasn't looks affected with the news.
"Can you touch it?" – he guided my hand so I stroke him for a little while.
"Am I doing right?"
"Like a pro. Do you wanna try a little bit?"
"I don't know…" – I was afraid.
"That's ok, you don't need" – he touch me once more before lay down between my legs again.
My mind blurred and suddenly, there my virginity goes. And it hurt. I always heard Santana and other cheerios say that sex gets better with time. The first time is never great. My sister said something like that with different words. Anyway, my first time was definitely no big deal. It was with the school manwhore I even had any previous history but belonging to the same group of popular kids in school. The emotional bond between me and Puck was close to zero. But there we were: he was having fun with my body, saying I was pretty and thin, and I just was waiting him to finish. If my first sexual intercourse didn't provide me the physical pleasure I expected, at least it raised my esteem for feeling desired.
That was the story of how I got from point A to point B. Damn you, Rachel Berry-Lopez.
…
(Santana)
Listening Rachel is nothing new or special. I stand her voice at home in daily basis. In the bathroom, at the stairs, in the backyard, muttering in the library when we are doing the homework, not to mention the singing competitions she used to attend and my parents forced me to go. I was happy because since we started high school, she no longer had competitions and left the amateur theater club. Rachel decided to invest her efforts in social media such as Myspace. She thought she could be discovered there, like Lilly Allen and Kate Nash.
What my sister ignored is show tunes don't attract anyone. Lilly Allen made it because she created her own music, was attractive and had pop appeal. More important: she knew the right people. Seriously, what kind of appeal my sister had? Yes, I won't deny she had a beautiful voice and great technique. But she was singing the wrong songs and was as sexy as Paul Pfeiffer. No wonder the biggest Rachel's fan was Quinn Fabray. That bitch could be very creative writing offensive comments in the message space, but I had a theory that it was pure repression, or Quinn Fabray harbored a secret passion for my sister. Who knows?
The thing is: I never gave the proper value to Rachel's singing, until the day I was dragged by Quinn and coach to spy on the glee club in the auditorium. They were performing for the mites at the armchairs. The six losers sang in red shirts and jeans with the jazz club. They made a banal choreography, but still were awesome. I, Santana Lopez-Berry, never gave anything for that bunch of losers. But, at that moment, something magical happened. Rachel sang smiling. She always sang corny songs to cry in the middle. Not there. Rachel smiled and danced along with sasquatch and the four renegade misfits. God, they were awesome.
I only met Rachel that day at home. I had caught a ride with Matt and she came back with Kurt Hummel. Rachel was still dressed in red shirt and jeans when I saw her in her bedroom. I leaned against the door with my arms crossed.
"What was that, Ray?"
"That what?" - she turned toward me surprised.
"What you and your loser friends did in the auditorium?"
"You saw that?" - Rachel put her books aside and sat on the edge of the bed. I got in her room and sat down in the armchair.
"Yes. I was passing by when I saw the movement."
"I didn't see you in the audience."
"I was on the staff area up the stage"
"Oh" - she looked at me anxiously - "What did you think?"
"That was a decent job. You and Hudson make a good duo. "
"Do you think so?" - her eyes sparkles. Sometimes I forgot my sister had a crush on that idiot.
"You should dress more often as a human being" – I didn't give my opinion about her and Finn. I disliked him, as well as disliked anyone who wants to be a hero, but barely knew where is the damn nose - "If you wore like this you wouldn't take so many slushies."
"Maybe if you treat me decently in school, I would not take so many slushies."
"I know, but it is difficult deal with your annoying personality. Also, we did that deal."
"Every man for himself..." - she whispered, remembering the conversation we had last year.
"Every man for himself" – I got up from the chair, kissed my sister's forehead and went out toward my room. I needed to take that uniform of ASAP.
"Santy" - she called me by my childhood nickname. At home, we were Santy and Ray, but only at home. I would kill her if she calls me Santy in front of my friends or at school.
"What?"
"Do you think we were good? Really?"
"I wouldn't throw tomatoes on you."
Rachel knew it's just my way of saying I liked. Apparently it made her confident. As I manage my life followed the next days, my sister went up against Quinn. She even dared to invade the boring celibacy club and make a feminist bold speech I called "girls want sex, bitch". Rachel spat every word that I would have said about the uselessness of that group. If I weren't so committed to being the second in command, I would have applaud at the end, as those cliché movie scenes where somebody starts to clap slowly and it infects everyone else to take a apotheotic ovation for the protagonist's hero actions. But I just stayed silent and preferred not to comment it at home.
As I didn't mention to my parents about the first Glee Club's impacting official performance. Really? It was disturbing to see my 29 minutes younger sister dancing "Push It" as she simulating sex with Finn "Orca" Hudson. I shouldn't see that. Not at all. Rachel and I went home that day in mortal silence. She was terrified if I comment about it to our parents. But I respected our other agreement: what happens at school stays at school except if the principal call our parents or one of us came home with a black eye. Daddy and Papá don't need to have this grief. Because even if one of us started talking, the junk list will smells so badly that we would have say bye bye to our sweet 16 car and be ground for the rest of the year. It's better to remain silent and be limited to small matters as routine, grades and boring teachers.
The day after the small Glee's scandal, Dad took me early to school. He didn't like me to go out alone by bike at six in the morning. Furthermore, it was raining. When I arrived at school, still sleepy, I was approached by Quinn Fabray. She looked at me like a desperate psychotic.
"You, Brittany and I are rehearsing a number today."
"Rehearse what?"
"We are going to do an audition to enter the Glee Club" - Quinn Fabray had gone insane.
"Why would I do an audition to get into a place that I want to keep distance?"
"Your sister wants my boyfriend and I need to defend what is mine."
"Then do your shit alone. Book an audition with Mr. Schuester and sing 'Fly To The Moon' with all your shit soul."
"Well, Santana, I had this theory that gay parents produce gay children. I could use you as example, after all, you and Brittany are so close friends."
"Leave my family out of it ... and Brittany " – I held to not slap that stupid face.
"Just do me this favor."
My perplexity on Quinn Fabray kept growing. I looked around and sighed.
"One day you'll fall off the horse" - spoke in outburst.
"Maybe, but today I still am the top bitch."
"What song?"
"Say a Little Prayer For You."
"How original! You are so addict on 'My Best Friend's Wedding'."
"Thank you. I will set the audition for today after classes."
Quinn walked into the gym as if she had a king in her belly. Now I had to join the choir and have extra time standing my sister's ego and mannerisms. Worst: having to be with a bunch of kids I hate. Mercedes Jones and Kurt Hummel? Really? Not to mention Schuester was a terrible teacher. I breathed deeply. I was in my astral hell. And it even had a soundtrack.
…
Author notes:
This chapter wasn't beta(ed). I am sure you found a lot of grammar mistakes, but I did my best. It's not that easy to write anything in English when I think in Portuguese.
Music of CELIBACY CLUB: "Don't Stop Believin" – Glee version.