Love And Football

Santana's POV

"Fuck Britt!" I scream as my orgasm hits me, hard. I look down to see two piercing blue eyes looking up at me from between my thighs. Brittany is wearing one of her small innocent smiles. It amuses me how after doing something so the opposite of innocent, she still smiles that way. She wants to say something; I know that look. Putting my amusement aside, I start scanning the room for my scattered clothes, not hesitating to ungracefully pull them on. I've got to get out of here before this becomes a conversation.

"Do you feel better, San?" I know she cares but I seriously don't want to talk about it.

She followed me when I stormed out glee in my moment of rage and various other emotions I couldn't begin to explain. Brittany always knows when I'm upset and she always knows how to, uh, make me feel better. She understands that I don't want a real relationship, but there is certainly a frequent sexual relationship between her and I.

I choose not to think too much into it.

I'm not gay; She gets that.

Quinn didn't get it.

"I'm fine."

"Spend the night?" No. If I do, the night will definitely result in a discussion that I desperately want to avoid.

"I'd love to but my mom wants me home. I'm sorry." Lie.

Brittany doesn't seem to notice and just nods. As I'm walking out the door, to my car, my deepest inner thoughts find me.

My Mom is always working. She's hardly every home, actually. I'm surprised Brittany believed me, but then again I've never told her any different. The only person who knows what it's like with my mom is Quinn.

When I was younger I'd stay and Quinn's house all the time. It helped me escape the constant loneliness because it was such a loving household. Quinn's parents loved me and quite honestly I loved them just the same. I miss it.

I've yet to get that close with anyone since our fall out.

I wish I could have that back, but leaving it all behind was the price I had to pay. Back then there was no choice. It was something I had to do.

Yet, these days I regret it.

Especially after what happened in that choir room..

I've never seen Quinn so raw before.

Except for that one time. Long ago.

But I've convinced myself that moment never happened. Out of sight, out of mind. Yet, how could I fully forget? I couldn't. Honestly, I thought about that moment a lot, especially recently and I don't know why.

That moment.

When she kissed me.

I didn't pull away and I wasn't disgusted. That was the scariest part. I indulged in her, I kissed back.

I'm not gay, I couldn't be.

I looked at boys and thought of boys that way. It was all too much for my smaller, younger self to understand so I did I what I do best. I did what I'm doing now. Ran.

At some point I have to decide that enough is enough and I'll confront my issues but how? What am I to say? How do I fix my huge mistake?

I open my car door and get behind the wheel with a sigh.

It's all so complicated.

In glee I thought that maybe, well, actually I don't know what I was thinking. When I sang to her, I guess I was thinking that everything would be all right and that bygones could be bygones. I couldn't have been any more wrong.

I start the ignition and pull out of Brittany's driveway. I just want to get home.

This has been such a depressing day. No, week.

When I went to Quinn's party it was just to annoy her. I just wanted to get a rise out of Quinn because anger is the only reaction I can ever get from her anymore. It's my only way of remaining in her life somehow. If she didn't see me as a constant enemy then I'd hold absolutely no importance in her mind, and part of me couldn't accept that. I'd rather her hate me, then to have forgotten me.

However, Sam asking me out was not apart of the plan and the following events the night of the party certainly wasn't apart of my plan.

I was so disgusted and annoyed with Sam's drunken antics. It wasn't my first time getting into a quarrel like that but Quinn attacking Sam like that was definitely a surprise. Honestly, it was hot. But it was scary. Quinn looked scary. I'd never seen anyone so angry and that's coming from me, the beholder of an incredibly angry, evil alter ego 'Snixx'.

My mind had been so filled with thoughts the thoughts of the week that I hadn't even noticed I subconsciously pulled into the wrong neighborhood. It only took me a second to identify where I was. I knew this place like the back of my tan hand. This is Quinn's neighborhood.

The universe has a sick sense of humor and I have a tendency to make dumb decisions because I find myself continuing along the familiar path.

I don't know what the fuck I'm doing. My wheels keep turning on the fresh pavement and suddenly I'm parked in front of her house.

I want to make this right.

Then suddenly I find myself outside her door. I muster up enough confidence to knock. Why am I here again?

As I begin to second-guess myself and turn to leave, her mom opens the door and I hear a loud gasp.

"Santana?! Is that you?" This makes me smile. I've really missed her.

"Hi Mrs. Fabray."

"My, my. You've really filled out honey. I remember when I used to be that perky! Oh and-" Oh my god.

"Honey I'm sure she doesn't want to hear about that." Mr. Fabray interrupts as he descends the staircase. "Hi Santana." He smiles kindly at me.

I can't help but praise him for his impeccable timing and interruption. The last thing I want is to have a 'boob talk' with Mrs. Fabray.

But, I'm confused.

Did Quinn never tell them what I did? They're being so nice. Part of me wishes they knew, that they'd turn me away from the door and their home. Or yell at me. Or something. I deserve it.

"It's been so long." Mrs. Fabray interrupts my self-criticizing thoughts. "You here to see Quinnie?" Mrs. Fabray asks.

"Uh-"

"Qunnie! You have a visitor!" Shit.

"I don't care!" I hear her shout from where I can only assume is her room. She's blunt.

"Quinn!" Mrs. Fabray raises her voice; all happiness seems to have subsided. She glances at me with an apologetic smile. I shift my weight from foot to foot; suddenly my shoes have become fairly interesting. Have my cheerio shoes always been this white?

I feel so nervous, so out of place and it's hard to believe that not long ago this place was like a second home to me. I don't know what I was thinking, coming here. Before I get the chance to make some lame excuse to her parents about why I suddenly have to go, she catches my eye as she begins slowly descending the stairs with a bored expression on her face. She's too busy rolling her eyes, she hasn't noticed me yet.

"Ugh! Who the fuck is-" She abruptly stops on the steps. Her jaw is set and her eyes are dark, more so green then they are hazel. I remember that look. She's mad, furious. Yet, I've never seen it this intense before. Fuck.

Her intense gaze makes my stomach do flips and I suddenly feel incredibly nauseous.

"Why is she here?" She growls. Her eyes are still on me and it's very intimidating.

Usually, I have a bitchy gaze to match but this is different. Lately I've decided to be all kumbaya n' shit and bear my soul.

"Quinn, maybe you can introduce her to your friend." Mrs. Fabray pushes.

Someone else is here?

"Q what's going on?" Kitty walks out of her room. What the fuck?!

"They already know each other." Quinn deadpans.

It's obvious she wants me to leave and honestly, I think I should.

Obviously, Mrs. Fabray has other plans.

"Good!" She clasps her hands together. "No need for awkward greetings then. You girls have a grand time! I'll bring up some snacks in a few minutes."

"Mom." Quinn grits her teeth.

"Quinn, take your friends to your room." Before Quinn can retort, and it's obvious she wants to, Mrs. Fabray makes her way to, what I remember as the kitchen.

I chance a glance up at Quinn. Mistake.

She's glaring at me and her eyes burn with anger and hatred. Her fists are balled at her sides.

I used to see her in this position all the time. When kids would bully us at school she'd get like this. Back then I'd walk her home, hold her and kiss her forehead until she eventually calmed down. She'd mutter under her breath how she'd show them all some day. How we both would.

I suppose she was right. We're showing them that we're better then they declared us to be, but I know she always imagined us to show them together.

Me and her together? That's something that no one has seen in a long, long time.

But I just want to kiss the anger away, like I used to. Maybe If I hadn't been such a coward, things would be different.

Who knew things would be so unfamiliar, and it's all my fault.

The anger etched onto her face, it's all my fault and it makes me want to cry. I can feel the lump forming in my throat.

Quinn looks over my whole entirety with disgust and it makes me want to confess everything.

"C'mon lets go to your room, Q." Kitty suggests in the midst of the silence.

Q? What. The. Fuck.

That's about the second time she's called her that. Since when have they become so acquainted?

Now that I think about it, I have spotted them together more then usual, usual being not at all.

What the fuck is going on?

We reach Quinn's room and she grabs an open can of root beer. She hasn't changed a bit. That was always her favorite as a child. Quinn drinking root beer, is all too familiar, but Kitty laying comfortably on her bed reading a Cosmo magazine is the epitome of unfamiliar.

"Are you two dating?" I blurt out subconsciously.

Oh fuck. I didn't mean to say that out loud.

I can see Quinn, sitting on a black beanbag chair, choking on her soda beside me from where I stand, at the doorway.

"Oh jeez Q, drink much?" Kitty hops on her toes and pats her back, rubbing small circles, which I can't imagine to be helpful. It seems a little more then platonic.

"Fuck you." Quinn smiles at her.

"Oh gross the air stinks of flirtatious pheromones, it makes me gag." This is literally sickening to watch.

"Then leave." Quinn snaps.

"Babe, calm down." Kitty kisses he cheek before she settles down onto her lap. "To answer your question, we aren't exactly official, official but we're seeing each other."

'Oh' is all I can manage out. My mouth feels dry and I suddenly feel incredibly queasy. How could I be so stupid? Why did I come here? I bet I interrupted something. They were probably about to-

Just as my thoughts start to run wild and I begin to back out of the doorway I feel something hard collide with my back, stopping my train of thought.

"Oh excuse me, sweetie. Why don't you sit down somewhere?" Mrs. Fabray comes bustling in with a tray scattered with cookies. Fuck. I was about to book it to my car.

Quinn's parents have proven to have impeccable timing thus far, why ruin the streak?

"Quinn, find her somewhere to sit." Mrs. Fabray orders and Quinn glances at me lazily.

"She can see, mother. The chairs aren't disguised." Rude.

I shuffle over to her desk area and pull out the rolling chair that rests underneath it and sit.

She continues to stare at me as she speaks to her mom. "Happy now?"

Mrs. Fabray only makes frustrated sound that seems mixed between a sigh and a grunt. Nonetheless, she's obviously not amused with Quinn's attitude. That makes two of us.

She sets the cookies on the desk behind me.

"Can I get you girls anything to drink?"

I shake my head and look over at Kitty and Quinn; they're in their own little world. I might think they were cute if they didn't make my insides churn. Might.

"Kitty, Quinn what about you girls?"

"No, I think Quinn has had plenty to drink." Kitty says with a smile. Quinn laughs dryly, harmlessly in response.

How cute.

"I'm good on drinks though." She concludes and Mrs. Fabray excuses herself and exits Quinn's bedroom.

Hours pass of meaningless conversation and I discover that Kitty isn't quite the dumb bimbo whore that I thought her out to be. I've never directly spoken to her during cheerios practice. She was all right.

We talked a bit about celebrities, which Quinn showed no interest in. Then we insulted people on Instagram, which Quinn showed no interest in. We even decided 'why not go all retro 90s slumber party?' and did each other's nails but Quinn shut that down immediately. Surprise, surprise.

When the day began to come to an end I was surprised by how fast the night was closing in. I guess time flies when you're critiquing ugly bitches on Instagram.

"Oh fuck! I have to go. My mom is probably freaking out! I was supposed to leave like an hour ago." I hate to admit it but I'm actually sort of dreading Kitty's departure. She was kind of fun. Kind of. Plus I'd like to avoid being alone with Quinn.

"It was fun, Santana. Bye, baby." She leans over and pecks Quinn on the lips. It literally takes every ounce of me not to visibly cringe, but I certainly did eternally.

A few moments after Kitty left me and Quinn sat there in silence. Every now and then she'd click away at her phone, before she looks up and acknowledges me for the first time in what feels like hours.

She doesn't look as angry as before.

"You know you're a huge cockblock right?" A small smile plays on her lips.

"Gross, Fabray. Your parents are home." She shrugs and stalks over to her bookcase.

She scans the shelves before she finds what she's looking for. It's a thick book with dark, but also bright, coloring.

"What're you doing?" She raises an eyebrow at my question.

"What do you generally do with books?" Smartass.

"If any more sarcasm were to drip from your voice you just might create a puddle." She laughs. She would think that's funny. She'd think my frustration was funny, no doubt.

I catch a glimpse of the cover of the book she selected. It's a Harry Potter book, the last one.

"Haven't you read that one already?" I inquire. She looks up at me and her beautiful hazel eyes connect with my own. It makes my breath hitch.

"Yeah," She pauses. "How do you know?" Uh..

"I, uh, I-" Think. Think. Think. "You read it when we were younger."

"When we were friends?" Ouch.

"Uh, yeah?" I try to sound sure of my answer but she's always been able to see right through my bullshit.

"Nice try." She smirks. "I have read this book before, but I hadn't read it until my freshman year." She watches me curiously, shutting the book on whatever page she was previously reading. "I can assure you we weren't friends then." I can see a flicker of anger in her eyes and her jaw sets. "So I'm positive that's not how you know."

"Well, uhm, I-"

She's burning holes into me with that stare and it isn't helping me get my words out.

"I used to watch you." I say in a barely audible whisper. Oh, but she hears me. It's obvious she heard me loud and clear. My head lowers in what I can only describe as embarrassment.

"Hmm," She hums. "Used to?" Quinn raises an eyebrow. "Why? I was nothing but a freak to you." She mumbles. "Who would want to look at a freak like me, right?!"

"Quinn-"

She jolts from where's she's sitting, pulling at her hair. She looks distressed and if I didn't know the severity of the given situation, I might think she was insane. She begins to pace the floors before she points a shaky finger at me.

"I used to be so fucking damaged! Your fault! It was all your fault!" She mutters 'Your fault, all your fault.' to herself over and over and I just want to hold her and tell her how sorry I am. But my pride is built too high that I can't find it within myself to do it, and quite frankly I am too stunned. This all happened so fast.

"Why the fuck did you do it?!" I knew this question would come some day, but not right now. Not over a simple comment over a simple fucking book. I didn't know how to answer. Sure, I'd planned for this many times in my head but it's different when it's happening. It's always different.

"I-I-"

I was scared. I want to scream it. I want to tell her, but I can't find it within myself.

"You- You- What?! You what Santana?!"

"I just-"

"You know what- Get out! I don't want you in my house. Stay away from me." She rushes towards her door and opens it wide, gesturing for me to leave.

"I'm sure you know how to operate the front door. You didn't hesitate to assess that skill when you walked out on me the first time around." Ouch.

She can't think it was so simple. That it was out of hate or even worse, that I thought she was a freak? She was my best friend. She meant the world to me, plain and simple. She still means a lot to me. She has to know that, she has to. But, why would she? I haven't shown her that.

"But Quinn-"

"You're so fucking sick. Coming back here. Of all the places! Was bothering me at school not satisfying enough for you?! Did my pain not suffice the first time around? Get the fuck out!"

She made her distaste for me quite obvious. So I trudge out to my car and just sit there.

I punch at my steering wheel.

"Fuck!" Of course she'd respond to me that way. I've treated her horribly. I feel horrible. I just want to forget. I need to forget.

I whip out my phone and dial the one person who always has good shit when I need it.

"Puck? Yeah, I'm coming over."

It takes a few minutes to get to his house, which isn't too far from Quinn's. The minute I step foot into his house I raid the alcohol cabinet. This isn't my first rodeo. I've been here for plenty of parties or simply just to do what I'm doing now, drink. He's always got a full stock and his parents don't care what he does with it.

Within ten minutes I've raided the cabinet for the strongest stuff I could find and it doesn't take long before I can feel the wonderful buzz. I need this.

"Woaaahh there, my Latina princess, slow down."

"Don't fucking call me that! I'm not your princess!" I hiss. "And let go of my booze." He raises his hands in surrender, releasing my shot glass. I proceed to take my fifth shot of the night. I'm slowly unraveling into a hot, emotional mess.

"Puck, Quinn hates me."

He hums in agreement. "No kidding. Can you blame her?" He pauses, taking a sip of his Bud Light. "After what you did; you were a bitch to her."

That's when it happens. All the choked up, held in sobs, rushes out and I'm crying with no sign of stopping soon.

"I fucked up, Puck!" He nearly trips over himself trying to rush to me. He's a huge horn dog but he's also a big teddy bear.

"Woah, woah don't cry. I thought you hated each other. Like, mutually." He wraps his arm around my waist.

"Mutually. Who knew you knew such a big fucking word!" I spit. At this point he knows me too well to let my defense mechanism fall into place. This isn't my first time drunk and venting to him. The thing about Puck is he doesn't ask questions, he just listens and for some reason strange reason, he doesn't tell people what I tell him.

"Oh shut up, Lopez." He rubs small circles on my back until my crying slows and I curl into his shoulder.

"I'm a coward." I whisper to no one in particular.

My tears return and I'm sobbing onto his already damp t-shirt. The repercussions to my past decision were bound to make itself known eventually. I always figured it would be sooner though. Perhaps I was too wrapped in popularity to give karma the light of day.

"Hey, Santana?" I hum. "You're not a coward." If only he knew the truth. He'd think differently.

"You were brave to sing to her in glee and crying doesn't make you a coward if that's what you mean." He pauses. "Quinn would probably kill me for what I'm about to tell you, but I trust you not to repeat this. She, uhm, she cried when you left. She cried a lot." I can feel him shift uncomfortably underneath me as though he was recurring the memory. "Why'd you leave?" He whispers.

No one ever had the guts to ask me that. People noticed me and Quinn's split but no one, and I mean no one ever attempted to question it.

"I-"

"That's what Quinn would ask." He interrupts. "She'd cry and ask herself aloud 'Why'd you leave?' It was a horrible thing to watch."

"Why are you telling me this, Puck?" I already feel awful.

"I'm telling you this because I think you can fix it, eventually. But in order to do that I think you should know how bad you hurt her. I also think that when you sang in the choir room you scared the fuck out of her. You're inching into her life and she doesn't know why. She doesn't want to get hurt again. Do with this information what you may." He takes another swig of his beer.

It's quiet for a moment as I take in all this new information. I wasn't expecting any information, especially not from Puck, her best friend.

"Thank you." He hums quietly in response.

A/N Okay! So a few people have been wondering if I'm still on board with this story. I am! Work has picked up a bit and so you'll have to bear with me when it comes to updates.

Sorry I couldn't fit in Quinn's game. I figured it wouldn't capture the moment too well in Santana's POV and I absolutely HATE switching POVs in the middle of a chapter. Soooo until next time!

Review! (They inspire quicker updates. :P)