Title: Inside Out
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 12.4k
Summary: Santana's back from Indiana for Senior year. She lived here five years ago, but there's something different about the place.
Warning: G!P
Notes: Apologies for the lack of update! Trying to work on a few things. Thank you for your reviews!
/
The sound of the car slamming behind her breaks the last piece of resistance inside her body.
Hot tears flow from her eyes, and she bangs her forehead against her driving wheel, clutching at it until her knuckles turn white as she pain slices through her. Rick Pierce is right. He's fucking right about her, and she hates that she can't argue her own thoughts now, but what she just walked away from is evidence. Everything she touches turns to dust and she brings drama wherever she goes, and if there's one thing she knows, is that Brittany deserves better than that.
She deserves the world. She deserves someone who would break up the incident instead of making it worse, and there's nothing inside of her that wants to admit it, but maybe Sam would've handled the situation better. Maybe Sam wouldn't have put her in a position like that, and before tonight, she could've convinced herself other and found hope.
But now…
Now she can feel the last remnants turning to ash inside her chest. There's no longer a fire inside, pushing her and the tears wrack through her harder until she can't breathe.
However, it seems she isn't even allowed to have a grief siesta by herself, because it's only 30 seconds or so later that there's a hand snapping out, making a large metallic clang against her door and she whips her head around, eyes meeting ones she wasn't expecting.
It's Sam.
"God," she groans loudly, sniffling back and wiping the tears rushing down her cheeks with her sleeve. "You just don't fucking give up, do you?" She chokes, not quite understanding how someone can have such little empathy that they won't even let a broken person be alone.
Sam frowns deeply, but the anger from before has burnt away but she just looks away. "I'm not here to make things worse," he says, and his voice is considerably softer than she expected, so she drags her gaze back to him and narrows her eyes. "You gotta hear me out."
Amongst everything that could happen tonight from here, that's probably in the top three of things she has zero interest in doing because he's done enough. He's encouraged all this, even made it worse with Rick and he humiliated her in front of everyone by coming to save the day, when she was the cause of destruction. Still though, despite feeling hot fury scorch over her skin as she stares at him, she feels like there's something else he wants to say, and judging by the way he came to find her after asking her to leave, she thinks she needs to listen.
Even if she doesn't want to.
"Look, Trouty–"
"No," Sam cuts in and his other hand joins the one on the door as he leans in. "This is happening, and you're going to listen," he demands and in any other situation, where Santana couldn't feel her heart breaking into a million pieces, she'd probably bite back, but she has no fight in her. Not anymore. "I was serious, you need to leave the Pierce family alone," he starts and yup, she should've bitten when she had the chance.
Her mouth drops open, the venom ready to spit but he holds a finger up and she puts all focus into not bending it backwards and breaking the fucking thing.
"I said listen," he grunts, and the anger is back in his eyes, but the softness of his voice is still completely contradictory. "Tonight was just the start… You've broken up a friendship, and you have no idea what you're doing to Britt's family," he tells her, and she jerks her head back, shaking it and not wanting to believe him, but if anyone would know, it's him. He fucking lives with the Pierce's, even if it is temporary. "I appreciate them because they took me in when they didn't need to, and what I'm about to tell you, comes from that place, okay?" He quirks but she doesn't answer, so he continues.
"You and I both come from broken families, and you can't tell me you want that for her," he breathes and even though he doesn't say Brittany's name, Santana knows, and she clenches her jaw against the bitterness that crawls over her skin.
She doesn't want to break up Brittany's family… She won't do that. She knows first hand how difficult it is to go through shit like that, being permanently traumatised through no fault of her own, and maybe that's why her girlfriend is so good. She hasn't been tainted by the downfall of a parental relationship.
"If she doesn't go to Washington, when Rick wants her to, her parents are going to split up," Sam whispers, almost like he's scared someone's listening in, but she doesn't get it.
Why is he telling her this? Why hasn't Brittany told her this? Why is everything being fucking spoken about when she's not around?
And she's tired of it. She's really fucking tired of hearing things from other people when it should be coming from the horse's mouth. This is the type of thing that's vital when building a relationship, as it's about building trust and Santana knows that Sam wouldn't be taking his time to tell her this, because he's already won. He already saved the day, or as much as he could considering the situation, and all that's ringing through her hair is Puck telling her he's a good guy and the combination of both is confusing her.
Is he a good guy? Is he doing this from a good place?
She doesn't fucking know.
"So honestly? I'm not your biggest problem here," Sam says outright, and Santana jerks her head back, blinking at him with her mouth open. So he freaking knows he's causing shit and he's still doing it? Clearly he isn't a good guy. "I don't think I'm a problem at all," he adds and it's downtrodden and sad, but right now, she's enjoying that. Brittany did tell her that they spoke, and Santana's hoping it was made clear that there was nothing more than friendship. That's the vibe she's getting right now, and so she smirks against every other conflicting emotion inside her chest.
"But you need to stay away so they can work out their family problems," Sam's voice is stronger this time, like he realised he was revealing too much emotion, and the smirk drops from her face. It doesn't feel so good this time. "I'm not a bad guy, but you can think whatever you want about me," he draws his hands back and lifts them up, almost like he's surrendering. "I just don't wanna see the people I care about getting hurt, and right now… You're doing that, more than you know," he bobs his head and takes a step away from the cab.
"You can stop it though… So take my advice, and give them space…" His voice gets quieter, highlighting the sound of the gravel crunching beneath his feet as he backs away further, signalling he's about to leave the conversation here. "It's for the greater good, and you know it."
And she wants to argue. More than anything, she wants to scramble through her mind to think of things to throw back at him because he can't win this, too. He can't get the satisfaction of being the hero amongst friends and families, but the proof is in the pudding. Sam is doing the right fucking thing, and she constantly does the wrong one, and apparently the only person who can't see that is her.
Rick fucking Pierce can see it and has reminded her a few times too and that stings more than she'd like to admit.
Because after everything… She's starting to understand it, and how if she were in his position, she'd want the best for her daughter and apparently, she isn't that.
So after taking in a deep breath, the engine roars to life and she skids in the gravel as she speeds off into the night.
She can't do this anymore.
/
It only takes an hour after getting home, when Santana's lying in bed, crying her heart out, that she hears a knock at the front door.
There's a few mumbled voices, something she registers to be desperation and pleading in her dad's voice as it flows up the staircase, but she only gets to sit up before there's heavy footsteps, taking the stairs two at a time as the person gets closer, and then her bedroom door is swinging open, and it's Brittany.
And she's pissed. Her eyes are wild, blood shot and her cheeks are pink. She still looks breathtaking, but this time it doesn't suck the air from around the room because Santana's excited to see her. It happens because she knows what's going to happen. Sure, she didn't expect her girlfriend to follow her, to come find her, and half of her wonders if Quinn, Rachel, or Puck put up a fight, but ultimately Brittany would've won.
Proven by the fact she's here right now.
Santana gulps as she watches her girlfriend glare at her from the doorway, and she manages to say half her name before she's interrupted. "Britt–"
"Why did you fucking leave?" Brittany spits, her voice sharp and it's so foreign to hear her swearing that for two reasons, Santana flinches.
"Britt, can we not–"
The blonde takes a long stride forward until she's towering over her, blue eyes narrowed and burning down. "No, we're doing this now," she insists and curls her hands into fists, her body vibrating with anger, and Santana doesn't think she's ever been so scared of her girlfriend before. She's never looked so fierce, but so hurt at the same time and tears are in her eyes before she can stop them.
"We said we wouldn't let anything get between us," she says but her voice cracks towards the end and Santana's head cocks to the side, brows pushing together. "And you leaving, doesn't tell me that, Santana."
The full use of her name doesn't go amiss, and she clenches her jaw against it, but she needs Brittany to understand. She needs to know why she left, and she needs to know why she's about to do what she is. The last thing she ever wanted was to hurt Brittany, to put her family into an impossible situation and as much as it tears her apart to think that for 'the greater good' she needs to end this, it's true.
Sam had a freaking point, and the drive home was filled with torment, tears, and torture, battling that fact. Santana was desperately trying to find a silver lining, for a reason – apart from the fact they feel the way they do about each other – why they should be together, and she came up blank. No-one approves of them, she can't create another broken family, or she'll be responsible for creating damage that can't be reversed, and it's just endless.
It's only been a week, but the trend has been set. First, the prom, then the Lima Point incident, then Dani and the lake and just… She can't do it anymore. Why can't they just be happy?
So, with that in mind, she speaks. "Us being together is destroying your life, Brittany," she sighs, and her voice is sad, and empty, and even she winces at it but holds back the sob threatening to break, even more so when Brittany flinches like she wasn't expecting that. She shakes her head, but Santana doesn't stop. "I thought everything was okay but…" She swallows thickly, eyes dropping to her bed as her heart picks up. "But it's not, and you can't tell me that it is," she chokes it out and shrugs, vision returning to find the anger slipping out of Brittany's body as her shoulders drop.
"Santana," the blonde breathes out her name and bites her bottom lip as it trembles, tears running slowly down her cheeks. "Santana, I told you–"
"You told me it was fine, and you lied," Santana snaps, the heat returning back to her body as she knows the only way she can do this is by putting her guard up. The anger isn't coming out of nowhere though; she's had an entire night of fuel being thrown into that flame, but it does get threatened when she watches Brittany jerk back, blinking rapidly.
"Sam had to tell me," she pushes through it and climbs off the bed, making her girlfriend take a few steps back as she gets to her feet. "Which is bullshit," she hisses and instantly regrets her tone when the blonde visibly winces, blue eyes losing their shine but if Brittany isn't' fighting her, then she's right. Brittany's been hiding something. "You should've told me what us being together was doing to your family."
Brittany's lips pop open, her head moving from side to side as she squints. "Wh-what?"
But Santana won't have it. She won't let the look on her girlfriends face break her because she has to do this, even if she doesn't want to.
"Your dad still wants to go to Washington, and he wants your family to go with him," she breathes and clenches her jaw, hot tears still falling. "And I've tried to believe you when you say you won't go or that it'll be fine, but… how can I?" The words squeak towards the end as she lifts her shoulder. "I don't want you to leave, but if it means breaking up your family, Britt…" she chokes on the name and drops her chin to her chest, trying to focus on the carpet beneath her feet. "I can't make you stay."
Brittany takes another long stride forward, this time coming toe to toe with Santana who glances up, but blue eyes are darting between brown ones rapidly like the blonde is slowly putting two and two together and knowing where this conversation is going. Her breathing increases, and her hands scramble out to grab at Santana's, and she would pull away, but this is going to be hard enough. She needs to savour the time she has before they have to take ten steps back and go back to the way things were.
"My dad can't tell me what to do," the blonde entreats, swallowing and frowning deeply. "I'm 18, San… He's just–"
"An asshole?" Santana cuts in, her voice getting sharp again as she stares into deep blue. "Yeah, I know," she laughs out mirthlessly knowing better than anyone how true that is. Especially after the conversation with her dad too, because she won't let Rick have the satisfaction of winning this. He lost Santana's mom once, and clearly holds this grudge thinking he's going to lose his daughter to a Lopez again, but it's not like that.
Does it matter in the long run, though? No. Because if her and Brittany continue being together, it's going to destroy the Pierce family and Sam was right… She and him both come from broken homes, and she doesn't want that. She never wanted it for herself, but she didn't have a choice and now a choice is here – one that could prevent it – she knows what is the right idea. She knows what is for the greater good, and that irks her more than she can explain.
"I've tried to ignore it and tried to prove him wrong and show him I'm not my mom," she continues, her voice twisting with anger and Brittany's eyes squint, brow furrowing even deeper like she doesn't understand. Probably because she doesn't know about that yet, but Santana does and that's what's fuelling her, amongst everything else. "But he won't stop, Britt… Nothing is stopping him, or anyone else, and so I don't get why you'd want to waste your time trying to make us work," her voice breaks at the last word and she sucks in a deep, shaky breath, trying to breathe properly but it's like the strings in her heart are being pulled too tight. "When you're risking everything else," she finishes, the sentence dropping in volume as it leaves her mouth.
But clearly it's the wrong thing to say, because something in Brittany's face hardens and she drops Santana's hands, lips pressed together but still trembling, like she's trying to hold back another flood of tears.
"Waste my time?" She parrots, panting heavily. "Try to make us work?" She continues and Santana prepares herself. Brittany knows where she's going with this. "Are we not working, then?"
No. They do work, more than any other couple, but that's the hardest part of all of this. There is nothing more perfect than them, and they're compatible in every way despite being polar opposites on paper, but what they have is real and has been since the first day. Everything has made sense, and up until tonight, Santana thought they could go through the storm to find the calm on the other side, but just like the Titanic… There's unexpected obstacles that can and will take them down and there's no time to find another way around that iceberg.
So she just has to stop the ship before it gets there, no matter how badly she doesn't want to.
It just feels like the wrong thing to do, even if it's for the greater good.
"We were," she settles on and swallows thickly, the words stinging through her and body rejecting both of them, and she glances up to find Brittany crying. As much as she wants to reach out, to tell her that they can get through it, that it is worth it, she can't see how it is for Brittany. The thing she can see, is staring right back at her, and it's just reminding her that Rick fucking Pierce is right. All she does it bring pain and drama and it's hurting this girl and she just… She won't do it anymore.
"If no-one else existed, and this shit wasn't here," she follows and clenches her jaw, eyes falling shut as she thinks of the next few words. "Then maybe we would work… but that's just not reality."
The sob that comes from Brittany breaks Santana's heart even more, and brown eyes open back up to find the blonde, nostrils flared, blue orbs surrounded by red and a river coming out of them, and it's just a reminder of the reason she has to do this. She can't hurt her more than she has, and there doesn't seem to be a way out of this.
Not anymore.
"Wh-what are you saying?" The blonde chokes, face twisting like she's preparing herself for something she doesn't want to hear.
And even though every part of her being, is screaming at Santana not to say it… She knows she has to.
"I-I'm saying… I'm saying that you need to go to Washington with your family, and you need your space to do that," she finally gets out and she watches the lightbulb click on above Brittany's head, but she can't handle looking at it, so drops her gaze to the floor as she continues. "I'm saying it shouldn't take breaking everything else around you, just to be with me," the words rack through her chest, piercing her heart and she doesn't mean them, but she has to pretend. "I shouldn't be making your life harder, and I-I'm… I'm not going to anymore."
Brittany steps up to her again, grabbing her biceps and shaking her gently until their eyes meet. "San, no–"
"I love you," Santana chokes out and later, she'll realise that she's never said that before, but the intensity of the situation drowns out the impact because those three words won't save anyone. "But I can't do this, if it means breaking up your family, and causing you pain," she adds on as quickly as possible, just so she doesn't let the emotion break free and make her take back everything she's saying. She doesn't mean it, as she said they'd get through it together – she promised – but this is a promise she has to break. "I won't be that person."
The sob that echoes through her ears doubles her pain inside, and she squeezes her eyes shut, as if it'll make it go away. It won't, and she feels everything hit her until she's taking double breaths to try and fill her lungs, but they're empty. Just like the rest of her.
"W-where is t-this coming from?" Brittany splutters.
Unexpectedly, a bitter laugh leaves Santana's lips as she lifts her shoulders by her ears. "It's not coming from anywhere, Britt… It's been here this entire time, always with us," she pounds at her chest, and to be honest, if she could replay getting shot in the shoulder again, she'd take that over this any day. No amount of painkillers is going to stop this ache. "You can't tell me you don't know that…" Her voice trails off and Brittany bites her lip, face scrunched up as the blonde cries and cries, not wanting to hear this but she has to. It's for the greater good. "No-one wants us to be happy, and no-one will let that be… Everything and everyone is going to make it harder and if we just stop now," the word stops as she sucks in a deep shaky breath. This is it. "You can still be happy."
This time, instead of a step forward, Brittany takes a large one back. She repeats it, one, two, three more times until there's an ocean between them and Santana just stares at the blonde, needing her to see how much she loves her in her eyes, because her mouth is saying otherwise, but Brittany doesn't. She can't see through anything, can only hear the words being said and which way they're leading, and Santana hates that she has to do this.
She doesn't want to.
"You said we'd get through everything, Santana… That it didn't matter because we're together," Brittany spits, and her voice is no longer empty. It's now full of pain, of hurt and Santana has hated herself a lot in the past, but never quite like this. "You said that," she points at her.
Defeat hits strong though, and even though she can see the girl fighting, hear the need in her voice, she won't give it back. She doesn't know how else to do this, as Brittany's got something on her and she can't control it. It's always been there, and they've even talked about it, but now is the time to try and show that it was wrong. That they are just two teenagers, caught up in lust and drama and it's tiring now, and that for everyone's benefit, they should stop.
(God, that even hurts to think.)
"I come from a broken home, Brittany…" Santana explains, but Brittany just shakes her head and screw her face up again, still crying. "I can't be the cause of that for you," she offers out her hands, like the blonde is going to touch her, but she knows she won't. She's halfway across the room too, almost by the door once more and Santana can't find the strength to close the gap and touch her because it'll make her words fall short. It'll allow her to take everything back and she can't. She won't. "I won't be."
Blue eyes dart rapidly between brown ones, and Santana can see a thousand words running through the other girls mind, but nothing comes out.
"We both know how this ends," she shrugs and the usual pain in her shoulder doesn't come. Or maybe it does, but she's too numb to feel it. "I'm not worth it."
"You are," Brittany fights and she takes one small step, but halfway through it she stops, because Santana just disagree with a shake of her head.
One that can't be argued with because of the look on her face; her expression is empty, blank, even though there are still tears falling down her cheek and if there's one thing she can do, is pretend she's dead inside. Right now, with Brittany looking at her like that… It doesn't feel like she's pretending though, because this is the end of them, so it's the end of her.
But she holds strong, her body doing the first thing it can which is take a step towards her bedroom door, moving a few inches around the blonde so she doesn't touch her as she reaches for the door, head hanging low.
"I'm not," she says and slowly drags her gaze back up to broken blue. "I'm not and I can't do this anymore… I don't want that," she explains, having heard those words from the girl staring back at her the night they said they wouldn't work. The night she broke up with Dani, and it feels very much like it did back then, but a thousand times worse because now she knows how she feels, how Brittany feels.
Now, there's no hiding of feelings – on Brittany's behalf anyway – and they've lived two weeks knowing what heaven is like as they were together, happy and blissfully ignorant, just to step back into hell and live there. It's so much worse because now Santana knows what it's like to be loved by the blonde, and maybe in the future, she can look back on it with a smile instead of a heavy heart. Maybe in the distant future, she'll be able to explain why she had to do this, why she knows they can't work even though she wants nothing more than that, but right now, she has to hold it in.
They can't work if no-one will allow that, and she's tortured herself over this for hours now, ever since she left that lake, crying a river and barely seeing the road on the way back, but it is the way it is, and just like the fight with Dani earlier… This is a lost cause. She really needs to work on spotting the signs of that, so she doesn't get into situations like this, but it doesn't feel like it because this just feels… wrong.
But it's the right thing to do.
"You… You don't want us?" Brittany breathes, and Santana looks into blue eyes for a long moment, her brain screaming at her to tell Brittany she does want them, more than anything, but she won't do it.
So she does the only thing she can do and shrugs, not letting herself take back the words as Brittany processes them, her shoulders dropping as she takes her answer from the movement. She looks smaller than ever right now, as the anger has completely drained from the blonde and now she's just staring back with hurt, and it fucking kills. Still, she won't show that either and chokes back on the sob, keeping it in her throat as she maintains eye contact, preparing herself for the ultimate lie to back answer out loud.
Because it has to be said that way, and then maybe, it'll seem more believable. Maybe then Brittany will realise that Santana's breaking her heart, and her own, and just leave them behind as she goes and fixes her family and gets herself out of all this shit. And as much as it irks Santana, it's like Sam said… It's for the greater good, and that's the only thing running through her tangled mind as the lie trickles from her lips.
She's told a lot of them, but none of them quite hit like this.
"No… It's just not worth it anymore," she grits out, and the second it leaves her mouth, she wants to take them back.
Blue eyes flash with pain, with shock, and Brittany makes an audible gasp as her hand shoots up, covering her open mouth. The tears that were falling before are nothing in comparison to the flood leaving ocean blue, and Santana has to force her gaze away because she can't take it. She can't take any of this, because she doesn't mean it, but there are a million reasons why she should, and she has to remember them, or she'll break.
"It's only been two weeks, and we're already not working properly, Britt, and I just…" Her throat thickens and her eyes shut, regret and pain already coursing through her. She doesn't want to say it again. "We aren't the same and we're always going to fighting for approval…" She sighs, showing the defeat in her voice as she finally regains the minimal strength to meet Brittany's stare. "I just don't see how the good outweighs the bad here, and you can't tell me you don't feel that."
It's weak, it's broken, but it's Santana and before tonight, she didn't believe any of it. Before seeing Dani's heart break, and Brittany's, and having Sam tell her that she's doing irreparable damage to a family, she could've talked herself out of it, but it's too far gone now. It's too late, and it's a shame they couldn't make it, but sometimes life goes that way and Santana knows in later years, she might be able to explain why she's doing this, the real reasons, but Brittany's won't have them.
This is the only way it can happen.
Apparently, it's the wrong thing to do, the wrong thing to say – again – because Brittany's face turns hard. Her eyes go dark, and she holds herself strong, shoulders squared as her vision darts to the now open bedroom door before coming back.
"I don't need you to tell me how I feel, Santana," she grits out, teeth bared, and Santana gets scared. She's never seen Brittany so angry before. It's worse than when she busted through the door ten minutes ago. "I don't need you to tell me how to deal with my family," she spits and Santana flinches for like, the tenth time; she's never seen this side of the girl. "But that doesn't matter, does it?" She quirks and her eyes are burning, the spark behind them long gone and Santana yearns to see it again. This feels too much like it used to. "You've made up your mind," she breathes, and it sounds like a question, but it's not.
It's a statement.
One that Santana won't deny, as if she says anything, she thinks the apology and takeback will spill out instead. She thinks it'll break her restraint, make her come out with every reason why they can't be together, and Brittany will convince her they don't matter, just like she's done before, and that can't happen here. This time, Santana needs to be the strong one, and back when she was dating Dani, Brittany played that part, up in her bedroom after Santana escaped to her house with a fresh bullet wound, just because she needed to see her, and she said they couldn't do it anymore.
So Santana's only doing her version of that, and that's the words that leave her mouth in return. "I'm just trying to do the right thing, Brittany."
Brittany just laughs though, empty and bitter and whimpers back the next flood of tears as she stares at the ceiling for a long moment, before biting her bottom lip and shaking her head. It's another long beat before blue eyes return to brown, and Santana goes cold when she registers the look on her girlfriends – or ex-girlfriend now, she guesses – face, because it's acceptance that they're no more. There's no fight there, no want to try because it's a lost cause.
That the happy-ever-after has just slipped through her fingers, and the blonde takes a step out the door into the hallway, pausing at the last second to cast her gaze back to Santana who stands there, arms hanging limply by her body, her knees threatening to give out as she prepares herself to watch this girl walk away from her… again.
"The right thing for who?" Brittany whispers, but Santana doesn't even get to find out if it's rhetorical, or finally let go of the denial strangling her and stealing her breath, but then the blonde is disappearing down the hallway, and moments later, the front door slams shut.
/
Broken.
That's how she feels, stood looking at the empty hallway as the only thing she's ever truly loved walk away from her.
Brittany's done it before, a thousand times over, but never quite like this and Santana doesn't know how long she stands there for, but the next thing she registers is her body falling against the mattress, a fresh flood of heat bursting out her eyes as pain slices through her, wracking her brain, her body, her soul. It's just a rush of emotion, and she can't fight the regret seeping in because she knows how wrong it is now.
She's just lied to Brittany, given up on her, after all they've fought for, but what is she supposed to do?
What is the right thing to do here? Because every avenue she's tried has had a roadblock. Every time she's tried to find a way out of it, another problem presents itself and now after Sam telling her that she needs to leave the Pierce's alone, she knows that's damage she can't do. She won't let Brittany have a broken family, like Santana's is and she fucking hates that it's come to this. She hates that she let herself get to this place, where she's empty and cold and full of disappointment because what was supposed to be, couldn't be.
It was the right person, at the wrong time, and Santana doesn't know what to do with that.
/
About five minutes later, there's a light knock coming from the doorway, and Santana sniffles loudly, shuffling up on her bed as she turns her attention to her dad, coming in carefully. His face is twisted with empathy, the dip in his brows showing that and she fucking hates that he already knows. He was probably listening, as she would've done that, and she can feel it coming from a mile away; he's going to try and comfort her.
She doesn't need that though. She doesn't want someone to reassure her or make her feel better because she needs to suffer. All of this shit has happened because of her, and that's based off what she does know. Clearly, there's more to the story as Sam said, but she doesn't have the privilege of finding that out. She drew a line, and now she needs to step back and stay in her lane, like Rick has been telling her to do all this time.
FUCK. She hates that was fucking right.
There's a dip in the bed, and Santana still has her eyes trained on her dad who gingerly takes a seat next to her hip, reaching out to grab her hand but she pulls it back, fetching a pillow and holding that instead. She doesn't deserve care or comfort. She deserves hell.
"Mija," he calls softly, and she knows he's scared. She can see how worried he is, but she doesn't need parental concern. "Mija, what happened?"
The tracks printed on her cheeks should be answer enough, but after looking at him with slight disbelief for a long second, she realises he's asking more of why it happened, despite the word what leaving his mouth, so she knows she can answer that. He did hear, but he doesn't understand and if she's honest, she doesn't know either. Now that Brittany's walked off, now that she's left her and it's over, she's beginning to start doubting her reasoning.
But no… No.
She knows why she had to do that. There are a million reasons why.
"We-we," she double breathes the words out and her chest stutters, bottom lip trembling but she sucks it into her mouth. "We're over," she finally gets out, not being able to say the words finished, because she can't believe that still. They've been fighting for so long, that it's almost surreal to know it's over, and not in the way she expected. It wasn't supposed to come to this, but plans change, she guesses. "It's done."
Diego's head tilts to the side, confusion bright in his eyes. "Why?" He asks, like he doesn't know, but she supposes after their conversation where he told her that she had a good heart and the Lopez charm always wins, that won't help her now. It means her winning, and Brittany losing, and she won't do that. "Mija, why?" He repeats, ignoring her pulling away when he makes another grab for her hand and doing it, fingers tight around her wrist.
She just bites her tongue though, not knowing how to explain why, and not having the energy to. It just is.
"I don't wanna talk about it," she replies with the smallest lift of her shoulder.
"Mija…"
"Please," she cuts in, eyes pleading because obviously her voice isn't doing a good enough job. "I just… I can't, pops. I-I can't."
Something must convince him, because Diego lifts his chin, sucking his lips into mouth and knowing there's no need to fight. It's a face she's seen a thousand times tonight, and she's getting fucking bored of it because it's always due to her. It's always caused by something she's doing, and she hates herself for so many more reasons now as it's not fair, but nothing about this situation is. Anything she does, hurts someone and she doesn't want to break her own heart, but she's hoping it'll stop Brittany's from breaking, too.
Because if they stay together, they run the risk of destroying a happy family, and Santana has to keep reminding herself of that or she'll give in, and she knows if she tells her dad, that he'll convince her she was wrong, but he doesn't know the half of it. He hasn't had to live through what she did, as his story is completely different to hers and his relationship with her mom was easier in some ways, even though he doesn't seem to agree.
So she can't talk to him, she won't, and she has to deal with the consequences of her actions by herself this time.
"Okay, baby," he coos, and she winces at the softness of his voice. Even her dad doesn't know how much of a monster she is. "But can I ask one thing?" He says and her eyes flash to him, head nodding slightly as she hopes he knows not to press about Brittany. "Does… does Rick have anything to do with this?"
It's not what she was expecting, and the immediate instinct is to say yes, but it's not really. He isn't solely to blame, even though he kind of is, but there are multiple people also involved and like she said, she doesn't want to talk about it. There's no energy left to, either, and so just stares.
For his part, Diego takes whatever answer he wants, and exhales heavily through his nostrils, his hands balling into fists by his thighs, but he nods once, sternly, before spinning on his heel and taking his leave.
/
The rest of the weekend is spent with her phone switched off, because she doesn't want to know anything.
She doesn't talk to Quinn, or Rachel, or even Puck, and instead buries her hand in the sand and goes to work in the auto-shop on Sunday. She asks her dad not to put her on call outs, and he eyes her for a long moment before agreeing and she stays in the office, going through piles of paperwork and losing her thoughts in them.
Not everyone manages to escape her, as she has to go to the bathroom three times to cry, but then the day is over and she's going straight to bed, struggling to sleep for hours.
The thoughts come back full force through the night though, and she barely sleeps a wink.
/
Monday doesn't go much different.
She switches off her alarm clock and doesn't go into school. Diego doesn't push her, and she spends the entire day watching movies and ignoring the urge to switch on her phone and see if anyone has text her. Knowing someone will have done and being shocked that no-one's turned up at her door, she asks her dad to make up an excuse about her being ill if anyone does, and he reluctantly agrees, knowing she wouldn't ask unless she needed it.
Tuesday goes the same, as does Wednesday, and before she can decide that Thursday will to, her dad comes barrelling in to the sound of her alarm clock, telling her he'll drag her to school if she has to.
He reminds her that she's in Senior year, and this is vital in her adult life and knowing his threat isn't empty, she gets dressed and drives herself to school, ready to face the music.
/
When she pulls into the parking lot, Quinn and Puck are there, stood next to his beaten up truck.
Two sets of eyes widen when they see her pull into the spot beside his, and she ignores them as she gathers her stuff, slinging her backpack over her shoulder and climbs out to join them. There are no words spoken when she does, and she's surprised but when she glances up to find hazel eyes trained on her, dragging up and down her body and taking in everything that reveals how fucking empty she's feeling, she starts realising that the silence is on purpose.
It beats a thousand questions she doesn't want to answer.
"Feeling better?" Puck's the first one to speak, and Santana frowns, but thinks about asking her dad to make up an excuse and well, she guesses he did.
"Yup," she curtly replies, the one word being the most anyone's going to get out of here because she's been in the parking lot for less than 2 minutes, and there are already students looking her way, like they know what happened at the weekend and God… This is going to be so much worse than she thought. She doesn't even know what anyone knows, but she wants to stay blissfully ignorant. That's the only way she'll get through today.
Quinn's still fucking eying her though, and that's really not helping, so she clicks her tongue loudly at her and twists her face up into a glare. "Quit staring at me, I don't need to add you to the list," she spits and lets her vision dart around the parking lot to several ogling idiots.
"I'm not staring," the blonde fires back and Santana looks back to her. "I just don't think you should be here."
If Quinn's saying that, then Santana knows she probably shouldn't be, but she's had enough of fighting parents, and she didn't want to do it with her dad when he forced her out of bed this morning. He means no harm, and he's right; this is her Senior year, and she can't let high school drama ruin her prospects. In the long run, this won't be important, but right now, it feels like the world is on her shoulders, and as much as she'd love to hop back in her truck and go home, she can't do that.
Maybe she can get through the day unscathed.
(Probably not, but maybe.)
"Well, I have to be," Santana replies and holds her head high. "It can't be any worse than dealing with the shit after the shooting," she tries but Quinn's head tilts to the side, already doubting the words because this is very different, and everyone knows it.
"I don't know, Lopez," Puck interrupts and shifts uncomfortably, sighing loudly as he looks around the parking lot. "Everything came out, and I don't think it's a good idea for you to–"
"I don't care what you think, Puckerman," she snaps, and his mouth slams shut, Quinn lowering her head and eyes narrowing in a way that makes Santana think she wants to lash out, but she doesn't.
Santana didn't want to hear that everyone knows about what's happened, how she and Brittany have been hiding and how they're no more and what explanation was given for it. She doesn't want to know what Dani, or Kitty, or Sam, told everyone, or hear the whispers that flowed through the school halls, rumours being spread, and how the truth's being twisted, because she's already fucking aware of that.
That is the whole reason she didn't come to school for the past few days, but she has no choice here, much like she hasn't had much choice with anything else, and that's something she has to deal with. The consequences of her actions have finally come.
"I just need to get through today, and tomorrow, and I'll go from there," she continues and this time, there's no aggression in her voice. "And I need you guys to help, okay?" She whispers and it's so vulnerable, that panic sets in but Quinn nods her head immediately, Puck does too after shifting his vision to his girlfriend and for the first time in 48 hours, Santana feels her chest release. At least she knows she's not entirely alone.
"Okay," Quinn responds and sucks her lips into her mouth, probably to hold back the argument as it's showing in her eyes. "We'll meet you here at lunch and go somewhere for it," she says and it's more of a demand, so Santana just nods.
Plus, she could do with not spending the entire day here.
"Okay," she nods and manages the smallest of smiles as she brushes past her friends and heads into school without another word.
/
Remarkably, she manages to make it to 10am before anything happens.
But when it does, it just reminds her of the reasons why she didn't come to school recently and how she might need to come up with an excuse as to why she isn't here tomorrow.
Because she's at her locker, sorting through her books and trying not to look at the emptiness in her eyes, reflected in the small mirror on the door, when she feels someone approach her and fear strikes hard when a hand clangs with the metal and she has to dart back, just in time for her locker door to slam shut. Heat scorches across her skin, her back instantly getting up as she snaps her head around and bares her teeth at the person doing it, just to find Kitty there.
At least it's not Dani.
"What–"
"You've got some balls coming back to school today," Kitty cuts in and there's a sharp glare on her face, tone matching.
Santana just scoffs though. "You've got some balls coming up to me," she throws back and raises an eyebrow.
The blonde isn't taking it though, just laughs mirthlessly and shakes her head, taking a step forward to challenge her. "You're destruction personified," she breathes, and the snarl drops from Santana's face. "Everything you do, hurts someone. Everything you touch, breaks… What don't you get about that?"
The thing is, Santana does get that. She fucking gets that more than anything and that's why she had to lash out one final time, just to bring an end to all of this. She had to break Brittany's heart – which she guesses Kitty is talking about – and she had to do what she did, or the destruction would only continue. It was never intentional, as she just fell for someone she never planned to, but it came with recklessness and pain, and she hates herself for it.
But she doesn't need to explain herself. She didn't even to it when her dad asked, and she sure as hell isn't going to do it with half of the Cheer bitches.
"Just leave me alone," she says, instead of releasing hell and it catches Kitty off guard as her hand drops from the locker door, but she doesn't back off. "You don't know anything."
Kitty lets out a sharp scoff through her nose and her eyes burn into Santana's. "I know enough," she replies with a curl of her upper lip. "Now stay away from my friends, and crawl back into the hole you came from," she follows up, venom dripping off her words and anger surges through Santana, but she won't let Kitty get a rise out of her. "Don't bother coming to the pep rally either," she adds on and Santana's chest caves in. She'd forgotten about that. "No-one wants you there, and we all need a celebration that doesn't end up being ruined by you again."
Not a single thought comes to mind, before Kitty's pushing past her, barging a shoulder into hers before she walks off.
Santana just drops her head.
At least she made it two hours.
/
She must be receiving all her karmic retribution in one day.
First Kitty approaches her, and now as she's walking across the parking lot after somehow managing to get through to lunch without breaking down, she hears someone else call her name and stops immediately, not turning. She doesn't recognise the voice, but she recognises the nickname used for herself and only jocks use it.
It's the name Puck used to call her before they became friends and it caught on, and it doesn't really bother her anymore but on top of the week she's having, she could really do without it as usually following that nickname comes trouble.
She's had enough of that for a lifetime.
Still though, she peers over her shoulder to find three guys in letterman jackets wandering over to her, one in the lead with short blonde hair and she thinks his name is Bobby. He hangs around Sam, which is why she knows who he is, but that's not really what's on the forefront of her mind as she begins wondering why people want to talk to her today. After the shit she's been through recently, she could do with going under the radar but apparently that isn't in the plans for her.
Great.
"Lezpez!" She hears again, louder this time as the three guys get closer, Bobby coming a few steps further and looking her up and down with a curl on his lips; a half smirk, half grin.
She doesn't know why, but she doesn't like it already and it only creates (currently) irrational anger in her chest as she pushes her tongue to the back of her teeth, waiting to hear him out as he's the one that called her name. Nothing comes after about ten seconds or so, so she shifts her backpack strap on her shoulder, her weight from one leg to the other and glares at him, trying to get him to read the fuck off written on her forehead but he isn't picking up on it.
"What do you want?" She spits. She's not usually so aggressive straight away, as the interaction with Kitty proves as she didn't slap a bitch when it was deserved, but combine the way he's looking at her – like he's sizing up an opponent but also checking her out – and with Kitty coming up to her and basically telling her she needs to disappear, she's not really in the mood to make new friends or even hear other people's opinions about her current friendships.
Bobby lifts his hands up, palms by his shoulders like he's surrendering but he laughs and that just pisses her off more. "Whoa, calm down," he says and the two jocks over his shoulder laugh along with him as he turns to make sure they're finding him funny. He's giving out small dick energy and Santana really doesn't have the time or patience for this. "Take it easy, babe, I just wanted to talk to you."
"I'm not your babe," she hisses and snarls. "And I definitely don't have time to entertain your three brains cells," brown eyes flit behind to the other two jocks. "Or theirs, for that matter, so I'm gonna leave before I do something I regret," she quips with a smirk, spinning on her foot and fully intending to get into her truck like she planned to before she was stopped, but naturally God hasn't different ideas.
"From what I hear, you're not anyone's babe anymore," Bobby shouts after her.
She stops, mid-climbing into her truck with hands gripping the door and freezes instantly, the words winding around her lungs and choking her out, but she holds back the tears that instantly threaten to spill at the reminder of heartache. It hurts, like really freaking hurts and the beginnings of fury are now festering inside her chest, bubbling like lava does in a volcano and she really needs to contain it as she doesn't need this. She can't do this right now as it'll only lead to more drama and just no.
So she's got to (somehow) be calm and cool. She's got to hold back on biting and having an entirely reasonable reaction as there isn't long left to Senior year and then maybe she can just get the fuck out of here and go back to Indiana or move to New York or something to avoid shit like this, and she'd rather do that after graduation and getting her diploma instead of after going to jail, so as enticing as knocking a few of Bobby's teeth out seems, she's just going to leave.
Not without scoffing loudly and rolling her eyes though. Just for effect.
Bobby really does have three brain cells though, as he doesn't sense that she isn't interested in talking – despite her making it pretty clear – and as she attempts to climb into her truck again, there's a strong hand tugging on her elbow and stopping her.
Unfortunately, due to removing her sling a good few weeks back, no-one seems to remember where she got shot and obviously he had to pull on the bad arm, which makes her yelp out loudly as she stumbles back out the cab and that just makes the fury within her implode as she whips her head around, baring her teeth at him in a snarl.
"Don't fucking touch me," she spits, eyes darting down to the hand lingering between them now. She ignores the flash of pain in her shoulder – when is this thing going to heal properly? – and tosses her backpack into the cab before taking a strong step towards the jock. He's taller than her, as most people are, but she's intimidating still, and he does flinch, so she knows he thinks it too. "Don't fucking talk to me, and don't fucking look at me," she continues through a harsh tone but Bobby just pinches his brows up at her, looking amused if anything which just pisses her off more. "You don't know shit about me, so just walk away before I'm forced to crack one of your nuts; right or left, your choice… But it'll happen."
"Now, now," he coos, and brown eyes narrow until they're almost shut as she hears the underlying condescension. Santana swears to God she's going to castrate this guy with whatever tools she has in her truck if he doesn't back off soon. "Was it the wicked tongue of yours that got two of the hottest chicks in the school into bed?" Bobby bites, an evil smirk playing at his lips but all the anger seeps out of Santana as she processes his words. That's a low fucking blow and she really wishes she didn't feel so damn vulnerable so it wouldn't show.
But it does. Especially when she deflates slightly and gulps loudly, blinking away the tears that threaten to form but no. She won't cry. She'll focus on the anger.
"I mean," he continues, disregarding the way she's glaring at him with flaring nostrils and lets out a mirthless chuckle as he looks over his shoulder to his friends, almost for approval which naturally they give him with a bob of their head. It's the fucking blind leading the blind. "First Dani, then Brittany? That's pretty impressive, especially as they're known for their… promiscuity and you managed to lock down both," he finally says and one of the names stings through Santana, making her visibly wince as she takes a step back, chin ducking to her chest as heat crawls up behind her eyelids, stronger this time.
"How about your other friends, huh? Quinn and Berry?" He laughs out their names and Santana bites down on her tongue, squeezing her eyes shut as she tries to find some sort of resolve here. "You managed to bang them, too?"
He's not stopping, and he's going for all her sore spots and now she's physically vibrating from the fury surging through her veins, but she just needs to leave. After spending more than 5 minutes in the hallways, she's heard her name being whispered through the halls, as well as Brittany's and Dani's and she doesn't know what people know, but she doesn't want to find out.
It's clear that they know she's no longer dating Brittany, or whatever the hell they were doing, and everyone knows about lake last weekend – she didn't come to school for days because of that – and those two things just hurt to think about so she doesn't want to hear about it anymore.
She just wants to disappear for a few months and not have to think about blonde hair and blue eyes or any of the crap in her life.
"Gotta share your secret, Lezpez," Bobby rubs his hands together, still checking over his shoulder to see his friends encouraging him with equally stupid smirks and Santana's fists clench beside her as she tries to find the motivation to leave. The only motivation she currently has in her body is to knock a few of his fucking teeth out and that really wouldn't be too productive, even if it'd make her feel miles better, but it seems he really is having a severe lack of sense as he leans forward, lowering his voice and grinning evilly at her, his top lip curled.
"Gotta tell us what you do, as I think I'm gonna have to follow in your footsteps," he whispers and gets closer which just makes all the muscles tense up, but she doesn't move. Even when he leans in, lips close to her ear and for a second, she wonders what the point is if he's doing this to entertain his buddies, but when she hears it, she understands why. "Need to get in there before Sam does," he whispers and pulls back to meet her eye, smirking. "He's pretty close from what I hear, and I'd love to see the flexibility Brittany shows off prancing around on the field in bed sometime," he grins and tips his head to the side and Santana swears to God, her heart stops as red flashes before her eyes when she takes in the meerkat smirk shifting on to his face. "Would you recommend?"
He's trying to get a reaction out of her.
She knows that.
Somewhere, in the logical, sensible, not on fucking fire with anger, part of her mind that this is just to get a rise and that if she gave in, she'd be letting herself down. Somewhere, she knows that keeping her cool, climbing into her truck and just driving away from this is only going to do her good as if she does anything else, it'll only add fuel to the flame. The whole reason the jock has come up to her is to prod around her personal life, is to get the next lot of gossip and apparently tips, but she really doesn't want to give him the satisfaction of succeeding with anything or getting confirmation of anything either.
But then again... He did just hit every single fucking buttons to piss her off, so it shouldn't come as a shock when she laughs, but it does. She throws her head back, but she feels zero amusement in her body. The only emotion coursing through her veins is anger, quick and hot, and she watches as Bobby backs off, lifting his chin up like he thinks he's won this as he checks with his friends to ensure they're watching every single move and well, that was her intention.
Mostly because it makes the jock lower his guard, shove his hands in his jean pockets and laugh too, but at her and that's when she strikes. She narrows her eyes, feels all the muscles in her arms tense as she swings, ignoring the flash of pain in her shoulder as her fist flies towards him. The bones in her knuckles crack loudly, as does something in his jaw – probably a few teeth snapping half – when it connects heavily and she hisses as Bobby stumbles backwards, tripping over his own feet and into the two douchebags behind him who, much to her dismay, manage to catch him before he crashes to the ground but stumbling too in the process.
"FUCK," Bobby groans loudly, pushing his friends off him aggressively and shrugging his jacket back on properly as humiliation sets in, his face going a beet red. She just smacked the shit out of him and can't help but smirk when he realises what just happened. That's something she can handle spreading through the hallways. "You little bitch," he growls, wiping at the trickle of blood that seeps out the corner of his lip with his thumb and staring down at his hand at the red liquid staining his skin. She made him bleed. Good. "Fucking packing like a guy and punches like one, too," he continues, head moving from side to side dumbly. "Fucking freak."
And it takes a few seconds for Santana to click, but then she meets his eyes and sees the devilish glint in them, fully knowing he's making a dig at her situation, and before she knows it, the anger is back full force and she's preparing herself to throw hands again. There's a lot of things she'll breeze over, and maybe in a different mind-set, she wouldn't get so offended as clearly regardless of her dick, she manages to get the hottest girls – something Bobby can only dream of – but she isn't in a different mind-set.
She's in the mind-set to wreak fucking havoc and really, she should've seen it coming as it's been building up, but there's a good of a chance as any to let out some built up frustration on this asshole's face.
Distantly, though, she hears someone else call her name, but she completely disregards it, allowing the anger to pulse through her as she stalks the few spaces between them with full intention of hitting him again, but then there's long arms wrapping around her waist and in a flash, there's another body stood between her and the three jocks. She sees short blonde hair, knowing instantly it's Quinn as she and Puck said they'd meet her here at lunch, but that doesn't make Santana stop scrambling at the grip on her, with steam blowing out her ears.
"Bobby, back off," Quinn spits, her hand shoving roughly at his shoulder, and he takes a step back but lifts his chin, teeth bared as his eyes glare at Santana over the blondes shoulder. Quinn notices though, tilting her head to the side as if to ask him if he's stupid, but she's going into protection mode and pokes him hard in the chest until he has to rub the spot, frowning now as he pulls his attention to her.
"Back the fuck off before I get Puck to tell everyone how small your dick really is," she spits and Bobby's eyebrows shoot up, his two friends snorting loudly behind him, probably because it's true. "Yeah, he's got photo evidence, Tiny Tim, from the locker room," Quinn follows up and dips her head, the ferociousness burning in her eyes, like she's wondering what he's still doing standing here. "So get lost, or I'll be spreading that shit on Twitter by the end of lunch."
Santana would laugh, if she wasn't so desperately scrambling, trying to get out of the person's grip but whoever it is, is far stronger than she is so she fails. It doesn't stop her trying, as a string of Spanish expletives begin pouring from her mouth and legs kick out into the air, causing completely confusion to all three jocks who begin backing away with their hands held up by their ears again, like they're surrendering but she's pissed.
Pissed that people think they can talk about her. Pissed that people can talk to her like that. Pissed that her and Brittany aren't together and that Quinn just freaking stopped her from releasing all the emotion that's been curdling inside of her from the double break-up and the bullshit she endured just to end up miserable anyway.
As unproductive as it would've been to get arrested for pummelling Bobby into the ground, it would've made her feel a hundred times better than she does now as the person holding her tightens her grip and forcefully spins her around so the insults stop flowing as she loses focus on the retreating forms of terrified jocks.
She trips, stumbles into the door of her truck with her hands stretched out and she's breathing hard. There's still red in front of her eyes, tears behind them, and heat creeping up her spine from embarrassment and fury. She doesn't know which emotion is stronger, her head is a fucking mess, but she chooses to hang it down and try to calm herself down a little before asking Quinn why she felt the need to freaking step in.
Even if it was probably the best thing to do.
After a solid minute of silence, she inhales deeply, still very much ignoring the sharpness in her shoulder – she may feel better mentally for punching the guy, but not physically – and turns around, but the breath she takes lodges in her throat when she finds not one blonde, but two. At first, she thought the person holding her back was Puck, but she was way too focused on giving Bobby an untraditional dental examination to sense who it was, as apparently her body always has since the day she met that person and fuck, she wishes she'd paid more attention because now it's all she can feel.
Her skin is scorching from where arms were just wrapped around her. Her body feels like it's on fucking fire and whereas that used to be the best feeling in the world, right now it's the worst.
Because it's none other than Brittany, staring back at her with glossy blue eyes, and she looks so fucking sad. Her lips are sucked into her mouth, her eyes darting around Santana's face and Quinn's stood in between them, vision flitting between like she's not sure how to handle this situation or explain why Brittany's here and not Puck – like they agreed – but shit... Santana doesn't either.
All the anger she just felt drains from her body, and she tries to make it look casual when her knees give out by her hand snapping out to grab at the door of her truck, but it doesn't work like that and Brittany drops her chin to her chest, jaw clenching. Just being around the girl makes Santana feel a million times better, but it also makes her feel worse because it just reminds her of everything they could've been and how it's only been four days, but it feels like a year now they're together again.
"I-I've gotta get to class," Brittany gets out and Santana cocks her head to the side, holding back the heat behind her eyes because she knows her schedule. She's got a free period, but it's not like she's in the position to argue. She's in no other position than one she put herself in, where she can no longer call Brittany hers, where her world is darker because she put out the light, where it hurts just to look at the person that once lifted her up and she can't find the strength to think of all the shit they went through to be together, just to end up like this.
Staring at each other and not being able to speak. It feels a lot like it used to, before everything.
"Bye, Britt," Quinn utters weakly, lifting her hand and waving equally as weak and the other blonde darts off, taking larger strides and disappearing into the school without another word, but then hazel eyes turn back around and look Santana in the eye. "You shouldn't have hit Bobby, Santana."
A mirthless laugh leaves her mouth, her eyes trained on the doors her ex-girlfriend just walked through and she shakes her head, desperately fighting the tears that threaten to spill as she clambers into her car and only looks back at her friend after turning the engine on.
"I shouldn't have done a lot of things," she admits, the double meaning not going amiss as the blondes mouth opens to reply, but Santana can't take it. She can't hear anything that she hasn't already said to herself, but that won't change anything. "But sometimes shit doesn't work out the way you want it to."
"But San–"
"I gotta go, Quinn," Santana cuts in, shifting the car into reverse and peeling out of the parking space.
Quinn just watches her leave.
/
I love this story, what do you guys think?