It's been a while. I have no excuses, other than I lost track of where exactly I want this story to go. But, you don't wanna hear all that. So, on with the story. (My apologies if you have to reread any of the past chapters- I did too.)
When she closed the door behind us, she crossed her arms and looked at me expectantly.
"Yes?" I chuckled.
"Are you planning on keeping my jacket?"
I looked down at what I was wearing and smirked. "I like it," I shrugged.
"Give it back," she said in a playful, but firm way. I shook my head.
"No way, it looks better on me," I straightened the collar. She arched an eyebrow.
"I think it'll look better when you take it off."
"Well, I think -" my hand slipped in the pocket. How did I not notice this last night? I slowly took the small box out, and opened it. Inside, there were about five cigarettes. A few looked familiar, orange and white. Two of them had brown paper.
"Quinn... "
I gave her a cheeky grin, and placed one of the brown ones between my teeth. "Tastes bland," I said in a faux bored tone.
"Because it's not lit -"
"Fix that." I tossed the box to her bed and crossed my arms. She mimicked my stance and eyed me.
"You look really badass, Fabray."
"Yeah?" I took the cigarette between my index and middle finger, then made an 'o' shape with my mouth and pretended to puff out smoke.
"Yeah," she nodded slowly as she approached me. She held eye contact. Instead of taking the cigarette, she pulled a lighter out of her own jacket. I closed my eyes when I saw the flame. She's actually going to do it. I'm going to smoke. Suddenly, there was nothing between my teeth. "Do you even know what this is?" She asked me. I opened my eyes and saw her holding it up for me to see.
"Yes?"
"It's not a cigarette, Q. It's weed." She put it between her lips and continued, "Brown wrapper, Mary inside."
I nodded, but still didn't really… isn't it all the same thing? She lit it and took a step closer. She bowed her head and exhaled, then looked up at me. "Hypocrite." She rolled her eyes, then lit it again. This time, she didn't breathe the smoke out. She took my chin in her hand and kissed me, with my lips parted slightly, I could taste and feel the smoke.
"Happy, Princess?" She asked, a faint scowl on her lips. I nodded.
"Mhm." She started to unzip the jacket, and we both saw that I'd left my shirt in Noah's treehouse. Her eyes widened, I blushed. I wrapped my arms around her neck and rested my forehead against hers, smiling like an idiot. Have I ever felt this happy?
"Good. Because that's never happening again."
"You're never going to kiss me?"
"I will… just without smoke. I don't want you doing that."
"Santana, I made sandwhi - oh my God!"
Seriously? Again? Does anyone know how to knock and wait? I quickly zipped up the jacket and turned to face Maribel. I don't know how we're getting out of this one.
She stared at us and blinked, then looked down at the floor and cleared her throat. "I made lunch. It's on the counter."
"Thanks mom," Santana smiled nervously. She looked more embarrassed than worried. I, on the other hand, look like I'm seconds away from having a panic attack. I am. Maribel nodded at her, gave me a small smile, then walked out like nothing happened.
"What the hell was that?"
Santana shrugged. "My mom knows."
"Knows what?" I hissed.
"Not about us," she said as she turned and started walking towards her bed. "Just me."
"If she knows then why were you even considering going to those camps?" I asked tentatively.
"Just because she's okay with it, doesn't mean my dad is. I need my father, Quinn. And I thought I said I didn't want to talk about that -"
"You don't want to talk about anything," I said.
"So? What's wrong with that? Neither do you." She sat down and glared at me. I bit my lip.
"What would there be to talk about? If you did… talk to Maribel about us."
She cracked a small smile, then held out her hand. I took it and sat beside her. "I'd tell her about how amazing you are. How talented. How beautiful - but I doubt she doesn't know that part."
"Sap," I teased. She playfully shoved me. I was about to kiss her, but her phone started vibrating. Oh, perfect timing. She gave me an apologetic smile, then pulled out her phone.
"What do you want, Puckerman?" Her facial expression dropped. "Yeah, I can hold it. Sure. Yeah, the wall. I'll be there in ten."
"What was that?" I asked when she hung up.
"Noah is paranoid because of last night, so I told him I'd hold his things until everything settles down -"
"Are you insane?" I uttered. "Santana, no. I can't let you do that, what if they search here? What if you get arrested?"
For a split second, she looked worried. But, like she does with everything else, she shrugged it off. "Wouldn't be the first time."
"Santana, I'm not going to beg you."
"Quinn, I'm not asking you to," she said casually.
"Don't be fucking stupid, San," I said, exasperated. She chuckled darkly, then slid off the bed and crouched down in front of me.
"You knew who I was before all of our shit happened. Don't expect anything different." She kissed my knuckles, then stood up straight. "Besides, it's not like I'm selling it." She walked towards the door, but then stopped. Over her shoulder, she said, "Coming?"
"No."
"I rode with you -"
"Figure it out, Santana." I sighed.
"Fine. I will." And as if that wasn't bad enough, before closing the door behind herself, she said, "And for a hot minute there, I thought I could count on you."
"Not with this!" I yelled out. I shook my head.
The only thing that is heard at the dinner table tonight is the sound of forks clinking against plates. Santana still isn't back. Leo and Rhys still aren't talking. Maribel keeps eyeing me, and it's making me wish the floor would open up and swallow me whole.
"So, where is Santana?" Mom asked Maribel. Santana's mother shrugged and nodded towards me.
"This one should know better than I," she said.
"She went to her friends house," I said softly.
"What friend?" Asked Maribel.
"Noah Puckerman," I hoped that telling the truth was the right answer.
"The one with the mohawk?" Leo asked. I nodded. "I like him. Once, he took me to the movies."
"What did you see?" I asked worriedly. If Noah Puckerman is taking a 10 year old to the movies, nothing good would come of it.
"Despicable Me," he smiled. "It was funny, we both wore beanies and black hoodies, and ran into the theatre. We even sat all the way in the front. It hurt my neck because we had to look up the whole time, but it was so worth it."
"That sounds fun," Rhys perked up. Leo grinned at him.
"It was."
"Maybe I can take you two to the movies. That movie 'Home' is coming out soon, are either of you interested?" I asked.
"Yes!" They said simultaneously. I knew it wouldn't take long to get them to be friends again. They just needed a little push. As if on cue, Santana came from downstairs.
"When did you get here?" Maribel asked her. She shrugged.
"A few minutes ago," she sat down at her seat across from mine and started pushing her food around her plate. "Had to use the bathroom," she explained. I scoffed. Sure, if that's what they call 'hiding drugs in your room'. "Problem, Quinn?"
"None at all," I gave her my signature cheerio smile; fake as hell.
"Good," she nearly spat, not even bothering to return the smile. I couldn't shake that feeling in the pit of my stomach. It was heavy. Something about her glaring at me, not the fake glare at school, but it's real this time. It's cold. It hurts.
"Quinnie," mom said, interrupting our little staring match.
"Yes, Mother?" I asked through my teeth.
"I'm expecting you at church tomorrow -"
"Momma -"
"No excuses."
"But," I glanced at Santana then shook my head, "I have plans with Samuel."
"The blonde boy?"
"Yes."
She thought about it for a few seconds, then shook her head. "They can wait until after service."
I let out a dramatic sigh, causing my mother to roll her eyes. I don't have plans with Sam, but it was worth a try.
"Will you be joining us as well, Santanita?" Maribel asked her daughter.
"I don't think so, mom," Santana says to her. Maribel nods, a look of understanding on her face. "Night."
Santana didn't come to my room It felt weird. I wanted her to. I wanted her to apologize, then I'd apologize, and then we'd kiss and everything would be okay again. Only, that didn't happen, because that's not how this goes. Nothing about this is okay. I thought about all the things I'd done because I found it incredibly attractive in a bad ass kind of way when she did them, and I grew disgusted with myself. Smoking, graffiti, skipping class- all things that could seriously mess up my future. That was Santana's thing, Santana's life. Not mine.
I wiped tears angrily away from my cheeks, because I wasn't supposed to cry. None of this was supposed to happen. I strayed from who I really am, and that will never happen again. I turned to check the time on my alarm clock- it was a little past three. Just to be safe, and slid out of bed and turned the lock on my bedroom door. I have to train myself to get Santana out of my system. If that means repeating 'She's no good for me' in my head until I go insane, then so be it. It'll never be stable between us. I can't give her what she wants ultimately, and she can't give me what I want. This will only end with someone hurting. But as I wipe away more tears and groaned into my pillow, I realized that: that person would be me. Always me.
I was up at seven. You know those few seconds in the morning where you can't remember anything? It's like your mind is wrapped up in a fluffy cloud so your vision is kind of blurry, and you don't remember any of your problems, so that must mean you don't have any? That's my favorite part of the morning. But then, it's over. The memories speed back into your mind, and it physically hurts. Well, that's exactly what is was like waking up this morning. Blissful seconds of oblivion, then boom! It doesn't matter though. Because from now on, Santana Lopez is exactly what she was before- nothing to me.
At least, that's what I thought until I opened my bedroom door and she was standing there with a plate of pancakes and strawberries with a glass of orange juice. She was smiling so nervously and looked incredibly adorable in her pajamas- all negative thoughts about her went flying out the window. The drugs are in her room. There's probably drugs in her system. She's no good. She's no good, she's no-
"Morning Quinn," she said tentatively. I (metaphorically, of course) jumped out the window and grabbed all of my negative thoughts.
"Good morning," I said formally. She held out the tray, so I took it. "Thanks." I took a step back, and closed the door with my foot. A little harsh, I know. But it's exactly what I'd have done just a few short weeks ago. And she would have done it to me too. We just have to get back to that.
I put the tray on top of my- no, not my. None of the furniture in this house belongs to me. This isn't home. I put it on the dresser. I probably won't be eating it. There's a weird feeling in my stomach- I don't know if I want to cry or scream or maybe both, but I've lost my appetite.
Before I say anything else, lemme just remind you: QUINNTANA ENDGAME. Forever & always. Plus, we all know that our good girl can't resist the advances of Santana. She's still coming to terms with who she is and what she wants, but she'll never really shake Santana. I'll try my bestest to update soon. Thanks for sticking to this story (:
If you have any ideas, drop a review or PM me. If you hate it, please be gentle, I'm still learning. If you love it, please let me know. Alright, until next time! (if you have any questions, you know the deal. Ok. Bye. For real this time.)