Before Cassie drove Quinn, Santana, and Kitty to school, Quinn found herself watching Rachel at the table. Rachel sat there, engrossed in her own world, seemingly oblivious to their parents' attempts at conversation. Just then, Santana, always the outspoken one, shattered the thick tension in the room with an exasperated shout that echoed off the walls.
"Just because you can't go to Glee Club doesn't mean your life is going to end! Berry!" she yelled, her voice slicing through the stillness with a raw intensity that commanded attention.
Tiger Shelby, momentarily taken aback by Santana's startling bluntness, gasped in surprise at her daughter's unexpected outburst. The room fell into a heavy silence, as if time itself paused to absorb the weight of her words.
Santana turned to her mother, frustration simmering beneath her surface. "I was just being honest," she attempted to defend her actions, the fire in her tone unmistakable.
"No, you weren't. You were being rude," Shelby replied, her voice firm yet gentle. "You could've chosen to express yourself more kindly, but you opted for the opposite. You know better than that." The slight disappointment in her tone hung in the air like a heavy cloud.
"For starters, she thinks she's better than me, Kitty, and Quinn," Santana spat out, her agitation palpable as she crossed her arms defiantly.
Shelby reached over, her hand settling gently on Santana's shoulder, the warmth of her touch providing a sense of comfort and grounding amidst the tension in the room. "Tiger, I need all of you to understand that no one in this house is better than anyone else. We love each of you the same," she said softly, her eyes shimmering with deep maternal care and concern.
"If you really do, then why is she getting special treatment?" Santana asked, her brow furrowing in confusion as she looked into her mother's eyes.
"Rachel is going through some difficult things right now. She needs to navigate through her struggles, just like you did when you first started living with Cass and me." ," Shelby explained, her voice steady and understanding.
"I was a mess back then," Santana confessed, her voice dropping to a whisper, the heavy shadows of her past casting a solemn pall over her words.
Shelby nodded, the gravity of the moment settling between them like a thick fog. "I need all of you to support one another—not to go after each other's throats like you've been doing these last three days," she declared, her gaze shifting from Kitty to Rachel and finally landing on Santana. "We can't dive into this right now because your primary focus needs to be on school, but this behavior has to change. Am I clear, girls?"
In unison, the four teenage girls responded, "Yes, Ma'am," their voices harmonizing, echoing together.
As they stood, Quinn and Rachel busied theirself with putting the dishes away, the clattering of plates cutting through the tension. Just as Santana made to leave the dining room, Shelby reached out, blocking her path.
"I know what you're going to say, Mom. I shouldn't have talked to you like that at the breakfast table, and I definitely shouldn't have spoken to Rachel the way I did," Santana began, frustration simmering beneath her words. "But I'm not sorry for what I said to Rachel
"Tiger, this wasn't an honest apology," Shelby replied calmly, her tone firm yet understanding. "I know you have issues with Rachel stemming from Glee Club, and we pulled you out of there for your own good."
"Mom, I would have still been there if it wasn't for Berry and that ape of an ex-boyfriend of hers—and don't forget about Mr. Schue!" Santana exclaimed, anger bubbling to the surface.
"Watch your tone when you're speaking to me, young lady," Shelby warned, her voice steady but with a hint of authority. "It's okay to be upset, but I won't allow you to speak to me any way you choose."
"I'm sorry, Mom, but it was their fault I got kicked out," Santana retorted, her frustration giving way to a defensive posture.
"That Glee Club wasn't healthy for you," Shelby explained, her expression softening slightly. "Mr. Schuester was a problem, letting Rachel and Finn do whatever they wanted. And your behavior was worsening day by day, which is why we banned you from going back."
"Stop calling people out of their names—use their actual names," she reminded firmly.
"I'll try to work on calling everyone by their proper names, but I can't promise anything right now, Mom. Are we good?" Santana asked, seeking a moment of understanding.
"As long as you make an effort, that's what counts," Shelby replied, her voice warm with encouragement. "Now hurry up and get your backpack. Kitty and Quinn are waiting for us in the car."
Santana rushed out, her heart pounding as she grabbed her things, eager to escape the heaviness that lingered in the room.
At Carmel High, Quinn and Santana strolled side by side, the bustling hallway filled with the chatter of students around them. Santana paused at her locker, the metal door creaking open to reveal her chemistry book, and she put it in her bag.
Quinn leaned casually against the nearby lockers, a teasing smile playing on her lips. "You're lucky Mom or Mama didn't give you a good spanking for that stunt you pulled this morning," she remarked, her tone light yet laced with concern.
Santana shrugged dismissively, her expression hardening slightly. "They're not going to do that because I didn't push them too far. Besides, I'm not going to risk my backside for Berry, even if she deserves it," she retorted, her voice tinged with frustration.
Quinn sighed, trying to interject her perspective. "You know she's going through a lot," she said, attempting to reason with her sister, her brows knitting together in worry.
Santana's eyes flickered with irritation. "I'm getting sick and tired of all of you defending her! To me, she's just a spoiled brat, and when she doesn't get her way, she makes sure everyone knows it. And all of you are too gullible, falling right into her trap," she exclaimed, her words sharp and cutting. "Unlike Kit and me," she added, shaking her head in disbelief.
"Let me know when you get off your Rachel soapbox," she spat as she turned on her heel as she passed Quinn in the hallway, she made sure to bump into her, the gesture a clear signal of her disdain.
During Quinn's final class of the day, she spotted Santana striding down the hallway, her face betraying a deep-seated frustration. Without hesitation, Quinn raised her hand and confidently asked Ms. James for permission to use the restroom. Ms. James obliged, handing over the restroom pass, and Quinn quickly made her way out into the bustling corridor, determined to check on her friend.
As she moved briskly down the hall, she spotted Santana stepping into Cassie's dance studio, her demeanor tense and troubled. Quinn made a mental note to follow up with her later but headed toward the restroom. Just then, she noticed her mother approaching. Quinn called out, her mother voice steady, what are you doing in the hallway?"
Holding up her restroom pass, she met her mother's gaze with purpose. "Why is Santana upset?" she asked, her tone expressing both concern and curiosity.
Shelby paused, her expression shifting to one of understanding. "Quinn, it's really not something you need to worry about. I know you trying to look out for her, but she's just frustrated with her essay grade. It was due today, and I can't get into specifics, but let's just say it didn't meet my expectations."
Quinn's expression shifted to one of insight as her mother continued, "When I suggested she rewrite it, she reacted harshly and refused. I asked her to step into the hallway for a moment to discuss things, but she left and went to Cass studio instead."
"I understand," Quinn replied, her tone measured. "It sounds like there's more going on with her than just a grade."
"I know," Shelby replied with a softer tone. "Once you're done in the restroom, you should get back to your class."
Quinn nodded decisively, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. She was determined to support Santana and uncover what truly weighed on her friend's mind.
As Santana stepped into Cassie's empty studio, the familiar aromas of polished wood and worn dance shoes enveloped her, creating an immediate sense of comfort. She spotted her mother, seated at the vibrant red desk that contrasted sharply with the warm wooden floor, intensely scribbling notes with a concentrated frown. Without a moment's hesitation, Santana approached and wrapped her arms around her mother, feeling the warmth radiating from Cassie's body.
In return, Cassie hugged her tightly, her fingers gliding through Santana's long, brunette hair; it was a nurturing gesture she often offered during moments of when she's upset. "Tiger, what's bothering you?" Cassie asked, her voice calm yet laced with genuine concern, as she continued to stroke Santana's hair soothingly.
"Mom is mad at me because I wrote my essay on why Rachel Berry is annoying," Santana admitted, frustration clearly shaping her tone. "She didn't like it because it's about her precious Rachel."
"Why did you choose to write about Rachel in the first place?" Cassie asked, her brow slightly furrowed, an expression that revealed her curiosity.
"Because she's insufferable, and I can't stand her right now! That's exactly why I picked her!" Santana shot back, her emotions bubbling to the surface. Just then, Shelby entered the dance studio, her presence altering the air, thick with tension between mother and daughter.
"Calm down, Shells. She's just explaining her reasoning," Cassie reassured, casting a supportive glance toward Shelby.
Shelby approached gently and placed her hand over Santana's. When Santana met her gaze, she was met with warmth and understanding that melted some of her anger. "I'm here for you," Shelby said softly, her voice a soothing balm.
"I think I know what's happening, Shells. Tiger feels like you only have room in your heart for Rachel, and she's acting out by choosing to write about her," Cassie ventured, choosing her words with care.
"Part of that is true. You and Mom are falling for Rachel's acts. You claim to love all of us, but it feels like a lie," Santana voiced, her voice quivering with emotion. "When I screw up in school, just like Rachel has lately, you both would punish me, yet you didn't do the same for her. And when Kitty caught Rachel sneaking into your room to grab her phone, she got off scot-free. It feels like she gets special treatment just because she's autistic and has abandonment issues. That girl is just spoiled and knows how to play you two, and you can't see it."
Santana's frustrations hung thick in the air, a tense energy reflecting her unresolved feelings about the complex dynamics embroiling their family.
"I can see very clearly, Tiger," Shelby began, her tone even yet searching. "she wasn't legally my daughter then, and I can't discipline another child without their parents' permission. I didn't realize you felt this way."
"I'm sorry we hurt you," Cassie interjected gently. "But we're trying a different approach with Racheparent'sh I can see how much it affects all of you."
"I agree," Shelby added, her voice steady.
"I'll rewrite the essay," Santana responded, determination flaring in her eyes.
"Just know that tonight you'll be writing me a 5,000-word essay on your behavior," Shelby said with a teasing yet firm tone.
Santana groaned, but they enveloped her in warm hugs. She drifted back to her mother's classroom, where Cassie nodded. "We're having a family meeting tomorrow night to discuss this issue," Cassie said with reassurance before Shelby departed.
After school, Cassie collected Rachel and took them all home. They dove into homework, while Santana struggled to craft her 5,000-word essay on her behavior.
Three hours later, with weary fingers and a heavy heart, Santana concluded her essay. Shelby, reading it over, offered her insight and helped correct a few mistakes. Afterward, they gathered for a quiet dinner, each lost in their own thoughts, before retreating to their separate spaces for some cherished downtime. Eventually, they prepared for bed, the weight of the day beginning to lift as they settled down for the night.