I.

Santana walked into the restaurant with her hand clasped tightly to her mother's. A middle aged woman greeted them, her hair a dirty blonde, prematurely flecked with grey. "Welcome to Breadstix," she spoke with a tired voice, a forced smile, which looked more like a grimace, plastered on her face.

"Just a table for three, thanks," Santana's father replied politely.

They were directed to a small booth near the centre of the restaurant. She slid into her seat, dragging her mother to sit next to her as her father sat across from them. The waitress brought over two menus and a bucket topped with breadsticks. Santana eyed them hungrily, but waited patiently by her mother's side. "Just give a holler when you're ready to order," she said and walked off to serve other customers in the nearly-packed restaurant.

Her parents each took a menu from the table and busied themselves behind them, leaving Santana to herself. She looked around the restaurant, noticing the arrangement of the restaurant; the booths took up the centre of the room, smaller tables dotted the perimeter and two larger tables were positioned right at the back. She looked at the other patrons in the room. Most of them were small families; the parents probably too lazy to cook dinner (like Santana's; unpacking had taken a toll on her parents, and they decided it was important to explore the new suburb). There were a few couples sitting across from each other at the smaller tables. Hands were clasped and googly eyes were constantly being made. One couple was attached at the lips, obviously in their own world. Santana pulled a disgusted face. She couldn't ever imagine kissing a boy. That's how cooties were spread and boys were just eww (all the boys at her new school ate dirt for fun). There was a large group of people sitting at one of the larger tables, all of them chatting animatedly. A young blonde, who looked around the same age as Santana, sat with her back facing her, a ridiculous party hat precariously sitting on her head. Santana snickered to herself; it looked very silly. She'd never be caught wearing something like that in public (Santana would never admit that she was jealous; she never got party hats on her birthday).

Santana was pulled from her observations when her mother finally asked her what she wanted to eat. "What about the kid's meal? Chicken nuggets and chips? That sounds good, doesn't it honey?"

Santana looked up hopefully. With a father for a doctor, she wasn't normally allowed to eat anything processed and smothered in oil, but she guessed that her parents would be lenient for today. They had only just moved to Lima and her parents were in a good mood. Santana nodded, hoping she didn't seem too enthusiastic (a tough ask for a six year old).

Santana's dad gestured to the waitress, signaling that they were ready to order.

"Ready to order? What can I get for you today?"

"I'll have the spaghetti and meatballs with extra meatballs," her dad said, closing the menu.

"I will have the caesar salad," her mom continued.

"Can I please have the chicken nuggets and chips?" Santana recited, already feeling very 'grown-up' for ordering her own food.

"Also, can I get a prawn cocktail for my wife?" Santana's dad added, winking at his wife. Santana giggled at her mother's blushing cheeks. The waitress smiled and collected the menus.

"Any drinks?"

"Water will be fine thanks," Santana pouted. Though she wanted a Coke, she knew her parents were being kind enough to allow her to have chicken nuggets.

As they waited for their meals, her mother handed her a breadstick and Santana chewed on the end quietly. Her parents had started talking about adult issues, and she had already zoned out. She looked back at the large gathering of people at the back of the restaurant. A cake had just arrived and they were all singing 'Happy Birthday' at the top of their voices, ignoring the concept of pitch (and dignity). Santana secretly longed to join them. Her birthdays, though few, were always quiet affairs. The girl in the party hat turned around and locked eyes with Santana. A large grin spread quickly across her face and she hopped out of her seat.

Santana gasped. She recognized the girl. She was in Santana's class at school. Why was she heading towards her? The only time they had even interacted was that she had asked Santana to pass the brown crayon for her drawing of a rainbow (Santana thought it slightly weird, having brown in a rainbow, but the girl had assured her that she didn't want any colours to be left out).

"Hey," she said, her grin showing the gaps where she had lost teeth (Santana counted two).

"Hi," Santana said, unsure. Her parents had stopped their conversation and looked towards their daughter and the stranger standing in front of them.

"Santana? It's me, Brittany. From school. Remember me?" Santana thought Brittany spoke like they were old friends at a reunion.

"Ah, yeah, I know,"

Suddenly, a balding man and a woman with pearls around her neck arrived at the table. "Brittany, what did we say about running off? Come, let's leave these nice people to eat their dinner in peace," the lady spoke quietly as she placed her hand on her daughter's shoulder.

"Mom, it's Santana! She's the new girl at my school, remember?" Brittany explained.

"Nice to meet you Santana. Brittany has talked about you non-stop," the man said in a deep voice. Santana blushed. Brittany had talked about Santana non-stop? She had only talked to the girl for a maximum for ten minutes. How much could she have said about her?

The man turned to Santana's parents and introduced himself. "I'm John Pierce, and this is my wife Joy, and my daughter Brittany,"

"Nice to meet you. I'm Alonso, and this is my wife Maribel. I guess you already know Santana," He shook John's hand warmly.

John chuckled (Though Santana thought he laughed unnecessarily loudly, but enjoyed the way his belly shook. It reminded her of Santa) "Brittany has told us how there's a new girl who's just moved to Lima,"

"Yes, we just moved three days ago. I just got transferred to the Lima General Hospital, so we had to move,"

"Well then, welcome to Lima! We'll be happy to show you around. Do you need any help unpacking? I bet that's very tiring," Brittany's mother offered.

"No, no, we're nearly done unpacking. Thanks for the offer though, "her mother said politely, "So Brittany, it seems like it's your birthday today?"

Brittany's grin grew. "Yep! I turn seven today!" Brittany lifted six grubby fingers.

Santana laughed and lifted one more finger on Brittany's hand. "Seven," Santana confirmed.

Any hint of embarrassment on Brittany's face was quickly gone as she laughed along with Santana. Suddenly her mouth formed a perfect circle. "You should have some cake Santana! Mom, let's give Santana some cake!" Brittany pulled on her mother's dress.

"Maybe next time Brittany. We haven't even had dinner yet. Keep some for yourselves," Santana's mom said. Santana pouted for the second time tonight. Cake had sounded very tempting. As if on cue, the waitress arrived with their food.

"We'd best be leaving you to enjoy your dinner now. Come over to our house any time for a chat, the doors are always open for guests," John and Joy turned and headed back towards their table. However, Brittany stayed and a mischievous grin formed on her face. She beckoned Santana closer, and Santana leaned in, noticing each freckle on Brittany's face. The heat from Brittany's mouth warmed Santana's ear and she giggled at the tickling feeling.

"I'll steal a slice of cake and give it to you tomorrow," Brittany whispered. She ran off to follow her parents, missing the blush that had once again grown on Santana's cheeks.