The hint of mischief surrounded the two boys, Sam and Artie. Once everybody left the choir room, Sam walked towards Artie and ended their distance with a fist bump.
"Nice touch on the plan, Abrams. You really erupted the vocal violence out of Ms. Lopez."
"Yeah, I wanted to mix things up a bit," Artie paused, "Wait, Sam, why are you helping me again? My purpose is all about getting my girl back…do you want Santana or something?"
"Oh hell no, I don't want that bitch. She already dumped me once."
"Then, what's in it for you?" Artie asked.
"Don't worry about it Abrams, I've got my own reasons."
Mr. Figgins and Mr. Schue held Santana hostage in the principal's office. She sat with her legs crossed and a straight face the whole entire cross-examination. Mr. Schue was leaning on the bookcase, with his arms crossed and a worried look. Mr. Figgins' was behind his desk with his fingers intertwined.
"Ms. Lopez," Mr. Figgins said, "please, enlighten me on why you verbally abused Mr. Abrams today in the choir room."
"Can't say," her eyebrows raised, "I just wanna get out of here."
Mr. Figgins did not have the patience today.
"Ms. Lopez, the sooner you spit out why you did it, the sooner we will get out of here."
Tension and silence filled the room. Mr. Schue was the first one to break the quietness.
"Santana, please! We are only trying to help you."
Santana then adjusted her seating towards Mr. Schue.
"Help me or punish me? I know I threw in a few f-bombs towards the cripple, yeah, yeah, detention—whatever. But Mr. Schue, the reality is you can never help me."
Mr. Schue looked at Santana and then back at Mr. Figgins.
"Mr. Figgins can I have some time alone with Santana. Just a few minutes, please."
Mr. Figgins nodded. He was going towards the door, but before he left he turned to Mr. Schue.
"William, you better get all of your glee club drama fixed by the end of this week. I am sick and tired of teenagers—especially from glee club—coming into my office."
"Yes, Mr. Figgins," Mr. Schue sighed.
Mr. Figgins left the room leaving Mr. Schue and Santana alone. Santana was now facing away from Mr. Schue.
"Now, Santana. Is this about you and Brittany?"
"And what if I said yes, Mr. Schue? I don't think you can help me push Artie off a cliff."
"What did Artie do, Santana?" Mr. Schue put his hand on Santana's shoulder. "Please, you can trust me. Just tell me the truth."
"Sam, c'mon tell me the truth."
"Maybe another day, Abrams. I don't feel like spilling out my guts to you right now."
"Fine." Artie started to roll out of the classroom, but he turned towards Sam at the last minute. "Then you're out of the plan."
Sam quickly ran towards Artie and grabbed his wheelchair.
"Abrams, c'mon—my brother—I'm just trying to make things interesting. You can't just kick me out of this just because I'm not telling you my reasons."
"Well, I am. Deal with it." Artie tried to pull away from Sam, but Sam made Artie face him.
"Wai-wait. I'll tell you, Abrams. But you better not tell anyone or else I will make you even more crippled."
"Okay, spill."
"The truth is…" Sam paused, "The truth is, I'm trying to hide."
"Hide…from what exactly?"
Sam pushed his hair back with his hand and then fixed his letterman. He was a nervous wreck.
"I'm try-trying to hide that I am capital g, a, y, gay."
"What?" Artie screamed.
"Don't 'what' me Abrams. I just thought doing all of these things to Brittany and Santana would shake the gay out of me. I mean, I just want a normal tough-guy reputation. I can't let myself being gay ruin all of that. I need to be popular. I know it's stupid, but you have to hear me out. I need this popularity. It's the only thing that's going to actually give me the confidence to maybe someday come out to everyone. But not now. "
"What?" Artie was still in a mixture of confusion and shock.
"You can't tell anyone Abrams, if you do I will kill you."
"I just wanna kill him, Mr. Schue," Santana said, "That's the truth. He's just been an annoying little bitch, and I just wanna kill him."
Mr. Schue couldn't get the truth out of Santana and he was worried about her.
"I don't understand, why you just can't tell me, Santana. You're just making your problem worse."
Santana wanted to tell Mr. Schue the truth. She did. She wanted to snitch that little cripple and make him pay. But she didn't want to deal with all the complicated consequences, especially with the rumor mill spreading her relationship with Brittany. She didn't want all that drama. All she wanted was Brittany.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Schue. I can't."
Mr. Figgins came inside his office with a fresh new cup of coffee.
"Okay minutes up and I'm tired of all of this. Ms. Lopez, consider this a warning and don't cuss out any other student any time soon. Now, please Mr. Schue, please escort Ms. Lopez out of my office."
Mr. Schue led Santana out of Mr. Figgins' office and saw Brittany waiting outside. Before he let Santana escape from his sight, he turned to her.
"Santana, this isn't over. When you're ready to tell me, my doors are always open."
Santana nodded and took the hand of her blonde. Brittany had a worried look on her face, but Santana reassured her with a nod that their secret was still safe.
"Your secret is safe with me, Sam. Don't worry."
"So I'm back in the club?" Sam asked.
"Yeah, you are," Artie said, "I need to get my girl back, I just have to."
"So let's initiate part two to our master plan."
"Good idea, let's do this shit."