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Santana wakes up like it’s any other day.
She rolls in her sheets, grabbing for Brittany, forgetting the fact that the girl isn’t pressed behind her. Her face immediately turns into a frown as she sits up, laying against her headboard. She has a dance showcase in Indianapolis that she went with her dad to. It’s only been a few days without her and Santana swears she’s been living life like a zombie. Quinn’s unreachable, and after being urged by her mother to not be a recluse, she hung out with Mercedes and Sam yesterday. It wasn’t too bad, she actually throughly enjoyed it, but nothing compares to being with her.
Her room has back to school written all over it, bags of supplies, clothes, and hygiene line her floor waiting to be touched. Her newly acquired Cheerios uniform is pressed and hanging off her closet door, and that’s the first thing her eyes focus on. It was a hard decision to return to the Cheerios, being only in glee was sort of refreshing, but she didn’t want any regrets for her senior year. She might as well go out with a bang, winning two championships would be amazing.
(Plus, the opportunity to have Captain on her college resume wouldn’t hurt. Sue knew how to pull her in, hook line and fucking sinker.)
Santana’s also lucky that Sue excused the both of them from Cheerio camp, because that’s something she truly never wants to go through ever again. They’ll walk back into the squad anyhow with no issues whatsoever. Even though she’s not doing camp, she still has to prepare for the season ahead. She reluctantly gets up to change so she can run, it’s something that can keep her busy and help her stay fit.
She slides out of her black satin sheets as she reaches for her phone placed atop her nightstand. She taps the screen for it only to stay black.
“Fuck.” She says, fiddling with the charger. Now, she has to stop at the store to get a new charger too.
She’s ran a mile around the neighborhood already and she decides to take a break now that she’s approaching one of the convenience shops she knows. A lot of these businesses surrounding her house are family ones that have been around for years. Most people in Lima Heights are just trying to survive, trying to make better for themselves and their families. It’s either you work hard or you have nothing.
The doorbell jingles as she steps in. She gives a polite wave to Vinny, the middle-age Cuban man who owns the store, before heading into the back to get what she needs. What she wasn’t expecting was to see a pink-haired Quinn Fabray with two other sketchy-looking girls in the liquor aisle.
“Quinn?” She states as she halts, looking her up and down. Quinn’s eyes snap towards her, full of fear, before hardening.
“Santana.” She replies plainly, and Santana is quite confused. No one has heard from her the whole summer, and when she went to visit her house a few weeks ago, Judy said she was on some phoneless spiritual retreat. This looks like the opposite of that.
“How have you been?” She asks, and her voice lacks the usual bite it has when it comes to speaking with her. She’s genuinely intrigued.
“I’ve never been better.” She tells, and Santana itches her thigh. She’s uncomfortable, she doesn’t know who’s even looking back at her right now.
“Oh…I mean that’s good…” Santana focuses on the two girls behind her, and recognizes them as ‘Skanks’ from the neighborhood. Why would Quinn associate herself with them? They don’t do anything but smoke and commit petty crime all day.
“What are you doing here?”
“Shopping, Santana. I’m shopping.” Quinn snaps at her coldly, “What are you doing here.” Santana huffs, crossing her arms against her chest, she’s done playing nice. Her walls immediately go back up.
“I fucking live here, Quinn, unlike you. My house is a couple blocks over.”
Quinn lives in a palace in Country Club Hills on the other side of town. It’s the same neighborhood Brittany lives in, and it’s where Santana also lived pre-divorce. If you aren’t from Lima Heights, there really is no reason to be here since it’s so out of the way from every other neighborhood, and it’s that way on purpose.
It really isn’t that bad here. Yes, it can be sketchy and there’s crime, but mostly at night. If you mind your business, you’ll be fine. From the outside looking in though, this place is a dump, which is why it makes no sense Quinn is here. Santana overheard her mother warning her about coming over to these parts years ago after she moved, and that’s why she stopped attempting to invite people other than Brittany over. Brittany and her family were the only ones who would never judge.
(No one else from her old neighborhood would willingly step foot here, even if there was a treasure chest with gold.)
Quinn’s eyes widen in recollection, before going emotionless once more. Seemingly, she doesn’t have a response to her rebuttal, so they just stare at each other awkwardly.
“You look…different.” Her eyes have excessive smudged eyeliner and black eyeshadow, and she’s in a cropped long sleeve and black thick pants despite it being eighty degrees outside.
“Yeah…it’s who I am now. People change.” She fires back, sensing the judgement in her tone. Santana laughs dryly at her words, who is she trying to fool?
“You know that’s a lie, Q. You aren’t whoever you’re trying to cosplay as. You look ridiculous.”
Quinn rolls her eyes, “Listen Santana, I’m not fighting with someone who’s now irrelevant to my life…” Her words sting, especially after all they’ve been through together, but Santana doesn’t react externally.
“Just leave me alone.” She finishes, moving past her. The two girls follow behind her like bodyguards, hitting Santana’s shoulders as they walk by, attempting to be menacing. She just stands there, disgusted by their demeanor and the overwhelming smell of must and cigarettes wafting from them. She decides to give Quinn one last look, and she sees an enormous tattoo of someone who looks oddly similar to Ryan Seacrest on her back as she heads to checkout.
What the hell happened to her?
Finally done with her run, she plugged her phone in as she hopped in the shower. With no plans to go out the rest of the day, she’s in a baggy tee and basketball shorts that fall to her knees, comfortable and cozy.
She grabs her phone as she heads downstairs to eat something heavier, she doesn’t like working out on a full stomach. She’s eating leftover Arroz con Pollo when she finally checks her notifications:
Missed call from mami.
Voice message from britt <3
Texts from Puck, Wheezy, Trouty, and 3 others.
Damn, she’s a hot commodity today. She decides to call back her mom, knowing that’s the most urgent one.
The phone only rings once before the call connects.
“Hello?”
“Happy birthday, mija.” Her mother greets warmly, and it makes Santana do a double take. The tiredness in her voice isn’t prevalent like it usually is.
“What?” She responds back, confused.
“Santana Marie Lopez, don’t tell me you don’t even know the date today, where have you been?”
“Well my charger broke so…I went to Vinny’s and for a run, I’m just checking my phone now.” She explains, she puts the phone on speaker before swiping down to reveal the lock screen. Lo and behold, it’s August 27th. Her eyebrows furrow, this means it's Friday and school starts on Monday. She swears she had more time! The days started to blur without the blonde in her life.
“Well, I wanted to speak to you before I come home later.” Santana has to admit, her mother has been serious about being better. It’s still awkward sometimes, but they’re actually having small conversations of substance every so often. These past few years, her birthday message has been on text.
“Thanks, mama, I appreciate it.”
“Of course, Santanita. I left you a gift in the mailbox.” This renders her shocked, because technically, her last two birthday gifts were her boob job. She asked for it right on her 16th before sophomore year, but she had to wait until last summer for it to be completed. The procedure was extremely expensive for them, despite insurance helping out, so them being fully healed before junior year started was a gift in itself.
“I’ll go get it, thank you so much.”
“No problem, it’s your day. I have to go okay…I’ll see you later.”
“Bye, Te quiero, mami. Gracias”
“Te quiero, Santana, you mean the world to me.” Santana’s breath catches in her throat as the line goes dead. With a gulp, she goes to check the mail.
A tiny box with a bow greets her, and as she goes back inside, she wonders what it could possibly be. She opens the box to a little Swarovski bag, and Santana wonders where the hell her mother pulled the money out of to get this along with her school things and other household expenses.
The most beautiful little silver chroma drop earrings are inside the bag, and it leaves Santana speechless. She admires them, they have a detachable star charm on the hoop and they just gleam so brightly. She instantly puts them on her bare ears to try them on, they’re too perfect, she’s almost scared to wear them.
She shoots her mother a brief text of appreciation before moving on to Brittany’s message. Santana presses play, and as soon as she hears her voice, she perks up.
“Happy birthday honey! I can’t believe you’re finally 18… I love you so much and I’m so sorry I can’t be there to kiss and cuddle you senseless, but I’ll be home soon! You’re the greatest thing in my life and I can’t wait to make more memories with you. Sometimes…I don’t believe you’re real…you’re that perfect to me. I wonder how lucky I got to have someone like you fall into my life. You’ll always be my best friend and I know I can always count on you to understand me. Have the best day ever! Mwah!”
Santana’s eyes are watery once more as she blinks the tears away from her eyes. This morning has been too emotional. She puts her empty bowl in the sink before impulsively rushing upstairs. She grabs her cigarettes and her glasses before heading outside on the porch. She’ll answer the rest of the messages later.
She hasn’t been a fan of her birthday in a while, not since she moved and went from having big lawn parties with bouncy houses and ponies to having quiet nights in with abuela and her mami. The first few years after the separation were extremely rough on her, as spoiled as it sounds. It’s hard for a kid to undergo that type of transition, and it didn’t help that those lavish parties were some of the only times her father treated her like a human and not an obstacle. So yeah, she yearned for that attention every year only for it to vanish.
Now that she’s older, her birthday has become a symbol of the impending doom of adulthood. The thought of aging makes her skin crawl and her heart rate increase, so she tries to avoid it. This though, is the one day she can’t. From when she first got her period, Santana hated the idea of becoming a woman, because she never got the fun of it. Why are we glorifying the beginnings of a life that is now filled with constant hardship and responsibility?
But, this year, even though she’s still slightly melancholic, she’s actually looking forward to maturing. She wants to grow older so she can live the life she so desperately wants to live. She knows if she continues on the trajectory she’s at, she’ll get there, even if she doesn’t know exactly when.
Santana, now seated, deeply inhales the Marlboro in her hands. The sensation makes her shoulders drop and her head lean back against the rocking chair she’s situated in. She stays in the position momentarily, content and relaxed, until she hears the halting of wheels and the shutting of a door. She sits up immediately, now alert, putting her cigarette out.
She recognizes that car from anywhere.
But it can’t be. She wasn’t supposed to come home until tomorrow.
Lo and behold, Brittany appears from behind the car. She’s smiling so wide and Santana swears she’s dreaming.
“B?”
“Suprise!” She shouts, and Santana hops off the porch to meet her.
“Happy birthday, my love.” She whispers as their bodies join together, and Santana swoons at the term of endearment.
“Thank you,” She mutters, she sighs in her arms, taking this all in. If this was anybody else, she’d say how pathetic they are, she was gone for only four days. But, when you spend pretty much every waking moment together after what they went through, it’s hard not to feel this way after any separation.
“Go inside?” Santana asks, head rested in the crook of Brittany’s neck. Brittany hums in agreement.
Brittany scoots back until she's resting against the headboard, then motions towards between her legs. Santana immediately crawls over, settling between Brittany before turning so she's facing her. Brittany immediately wraps both arms around Santana's waist, pulling her in until Santana is practically tucked into her lap. Santana folds one leg over Brittany's thighs while Brittany's knees rest on either side of her hips.
(They always find the most intricate and unique ways to be close to each other, Santana loves that about them.)
“You’re really sneaky, you know.” Santana remarks.
“Some people would say cunning…” Brittany jokes, and the permanent grin that has been on Santana’s face since she’s got here only grows bigger.
“I was dying here without you.” She admits softly.
“Me too,” Brittany agrees, “I think my dad could tell. He couldn’t stop making corny jokes to cheer me up.
Santana snorts, that sounds just like Pierce Pierce, “I love your dad.”
“He loves you too.”
Santana takes a deep breath, a bit unsettled, she doesn’t know how to respond to that.
“You’re okay though? I know this isn’t your favorite day.” Brittany senses her discomfort, looking deep into Santana’s eyes as she gently rubs her back.
“Yeah.” She whispers, and it’s the truth. “I think…I think this has been my best birthday in a long time.”
“Good.” Brittany beams, pressing a chaste kiss on her lips. Santana’s cheeks grow rosy.
“You taste like nicotine.” Brittany tells her with a frown as she pulls away.
“Sorry…” She mutters, “You know they help me relax.”
“I know, I know…you’re lucky it’s your birthday and I love you.” Brittany says, frown dissipating in seconds. Santana laughs, she got lucky today.
“Well, I love you more…I only finished one if that makes you feel better?” She reasons, she might as well try.
“It does.” Brittany admits, rationalizing it in her head. She briefly scans Santana up and down, biting her lip in the process, and it makes the brunette grow hot under her gaze.
“Don’t…fuck Britt…don’t look at me like that.” Santana stutters, flustered. She lowers her eyes, focusing on her black comforter instead. She feels slender hands grab her jaw, and it immediately makes her eyes snap back up at her.
“It’s not my fault when I have…like the hottest girlfriend ever.” Brittany compliments, now trailing her hand up her thigh.
Santana scoffs, bashful, “Even though I look like Adam Sandler?”
“Especially because you look like Adam Sandler.” Brittany says with a wink, and Santana kisses her so hard that Brittany has to brace herself against the headboard. God, she’s gonna be the death of her.
A frantic makeout makeout session broke out, but not before stilling since they’re still supposed to be taking things slow. Both of them are now laying down face to face. Santana just admires all of Brittany’s as they level their breathing out.
“Are you ready for your gift?” Brittany asks, breaking the silence, and Santana gasps. She loves Brittany’s gifts because they’re always the most thoughtful things she’s ever gotten.
“Yeah!” She replies with glee. Brittany slowly pulls herself away from the bed.
“It’s in my car, I’ll be right back!” Brittany says, almost sprinting out the room. Santana decides to sit up, scooting towards the edge of the bed. Her legs swing as she eagerly awaits to see what she’ll bring.
Santana hears the front door slam in no time and the stomps of Brittany scampering up the stairs. She reappears with a small gift bag and her signature smile.
“Here you go!” Santana grabs the bag, she nervously reaches into it and is in awe when she sees what is.
It’s a tiny leather journal that has been decorated immensely, filled with beads, stickers, and paint on the front.
100 Things I love About Santana Lopez
The title makes her eyes mist instantly, she doesn’t know what to say. Her mouth opens and closes before clamping shut, processing what’s infront of her.
“Of course there’s more than 100…” Brittany laughs nervously, “But this is all I got to before my hand started to cramp.” She looks at Santana sheepishly, nervous about her reaction.
“It’s perfect.” She forces out, voice shaky. She opens the pages to even more color and photos of the two of them wedged between reasons. Some of the photos are silly, like Santana drooling on her shoulder during an impromptu nap. Others are more romantic, candid snaps that a lot of the time, she’s unaware of. Like the shot of her staring out at the water, face glowing after they ate heaps of lobster on the bay. She flips through everything, giggling at the silly and taking in the weight of the serious.
2. How her voice goes high when she says my name
13. She sneaks me Dots without ever having to ask.
27. The way she smiles on a Sunday afternoon
56. How she never fails to make me feel important
79. The smell of her shampoo
99. How she feels a part of my family already.
By the time she’s finished going through, she’s a snotty mess. She closes the journal, not wanting to mess up all of Brittany’s hard work as she holds it close to her chest.
“B…” She musters out with hiccups, eyes blurry, “You’re just…I think you’re fucking perfect.”
Her eyes twinkle at her words, glad that Santana appreciates it. She exhales, letting out a breath she didn’t even recognize she was holding as the tension droops from her shoulders.
“Have you seen yourself? I could write about you forever, Santana.” Her words make Santana’s eyes close tightly as the compliment seeps into her skin.
“Thank you.” She whispers, voice shaky. “I don’t know where I’d be without you. I love you so much.”
“Ditto.” Brittany replies goofily, still a bit quiet. Santana’s eyebrows raise at her.
“Uh uh! Don’t speak in code with me, Pierce,” Santana stands, putting the journal softly on her dresser. “Say you love me!”
“I…like you.!” She fires back, playfully, giggling.
Santana takes a deep, calm breath.
“Take it back!” She shrieks, pouncing on her.
“Santana Marie, get off me!” Brittany yelps as the girl starts to tickle her senseless. Santana doesn’t relent one bit.
The rest of the day passes lazily with an ungodly amount of kisses, cuddles, and now a movie. To Santana, it’s perfect.
“These smurfs remind me so much of the glee club it’s uncanny.” Santana remarks, popping a chip in her mouth. Brittany laughs, tightening her grip on Santana’s midsection as they lay on the couch.
Suddenly, the handle on the door starts to bob, and Santana jumps out of Brittany’s lap with impressive efficiency. The door swings open, revealing her mother. She gives the two of them a tired smile.
“Hi Mama.”
“Hi Mrs. Lopez.”
“Santana, Brittany. How are you? Brittany, I thought you were still away until tomorrow?” She asks, taking off her sneakers by the door.
“Yeah, me too.” Santana says, squinting at the blonde.
“I have my ways…” Brittany states ominously, wiggling her eyebrows. It makes Santana giggle wildly and her mother shake her head at their antics, the bond they have is nothing she’s ever seen between two friends.
“I’m glad, Santana’s been a zombie. You’d think it was her boyfriend that was gone.” She jokes, heading towards the kitchen. The comment makes both of them stiffen, but Maribel doesn’t see them react. They sit on the couch, frozen, Brittany looks down in her lap while Santana makes sure she’s still able to breathe.
Way to kill the mood.
Her mom’s voice trails back into the room, “Brittany, I assume you’ll stay for dinner?”
“Y-yes, thank you Ms. Lopez.” She forces out, throat dry.
“You two should change, then. Abuela’s coming.” Santana sighs, knowing she’s gonna have to get all dolled up. She loves her grandmother, she really does, but the lady is extremely strict.
“Cmon, Britt.” She stands, voice quiet. Brittany looks at her with stormy eyes, but with a small smile, follows her upstairs.
“Santana, Brittany and you need to eat. I don’t want people thinking my granddaughter and her friend are malnourished.” Abuela chides, placing yet another pastelito on both of their plates. Brittany winces slightly at the thought of even eating more, while Santana stares at the fritter with disgust. Her and Brittany combined already ate half the pan of pastelon, which is both of their favorite Puerto Rican food, as well as tembleque and rice.
“Abuela, pero—“ Santana starts, wanting to protest.
“No buts, Santanita. Silencio. Eat, it’s your birthday.” Santana frowns, before taking her first bite. Her mother and Abuela start talking about something else but neither girl listens. They shoot each other silly glances in between slow, almost painful, bites of food.
Suddenly, Santana feels something cold slide up her leg, and it makes her knee hit the table, causing the conversation to halt instantly. Her eyes immediately snap to Brittany, who avoids all eye contact with her. But, there’s a twitch of a grin on her lips.
“Santana, what was that?” Her mom asks.
“Uh— I- I thought there was a bug on me.” She stammers out, “Sorry.”
She gives Brittany a hard glare while the talking resumes, and when the sensation returns, Santana tries her best to stay composed.
She is evil.
It’s the quiet of night, now, and both girls are under the covers, wrapped amongst the other.
“You’re a fucking tease, you know that? Rubbing up on me while at dinner…” Santana says, and her words make Brittany chuckle.
“I had the most sexy, irresistible girl across from me. I couldn’t not touch her.” She reasons, toying with Santana’s hair, and it makes her grin.
“You’re such a goof.”
“But you love me.”
“Hell yeah I do.” Santana sighs happily.
“Are you gonna wrap your hair?” Brittany questions, and Santana groans.
“I don’t want to get up.”
“I could grab it for you?” Brittany offers.
“No…because that means you’re leaving, and I don’t want you to leave, even if it’s for a second.” Santana admits, timid, and her words make Brittany’s chest pang. The comment her mom made clearly spooked her. It was jarring for the both of them, but she knows how much harder it is for Santana to hear stuff like that when she’s been working so hard.
“Santana…” She starts, lifting her chin up, and Santana refuses to make eye contact with her.
“Honey, please look at me.” She begs, and Santana slowly looks up to her, her eyes full of fear.
“I will say it until I’m blue in the face, I’m. not. going. anywhere.” She emphasizes, her other hand rests at the small of her back, and she pulls her just a bit closer than they were before. “You’re stuck with me, cause I’m crazy about you, Santana Lopez.”
A single tear dribbles down her cheek, and Brittany wipes it before she can even react.
“Okay.” She responds, almost inaudible.
“Just okay? You’re not crazy about me?” Brittany jokes, Santana playfully rolls her eyes.
“You know I’m crazy about you too, Britt.” Santana says, serious.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m just pulling your head.”
“You mean leg, Britt.”
“Oops.” Santana snickers at her, and she’s seemingly back in a better mood. Her eyelids start to go heavy, and Santana wants to fight it, but in the comfort of Brittany’s arms, she almost never can.
She forgets about her birthday, she forgets about seeing Quinn, she forgets about her mothers words, she forgets about abuela, she forgets about school and cheerios too.
The only thing she remembers before she dozes off is Brittany.