A lot of people had a lot of things to say about Santana Lopez. She was a bitch who didn't give a shit about anybody but herself. She was a stuck up, shallow cheerleader. She was a slut; just like Geico, she was so easy a caveman could do her. The truth was, she was just brutally honest and didn't see the point in being nice to people that weren't worth her time. She knew what people were really like and in a public high school, everybody was cruel or malicious or conniving. She just had to wade through the losers to get to the ones worth being malicious with.
Maybe that's why she loved Brittany so much. Brittany had not an impure thought in her mind. Santana had looked into it many times and every time she would walk away feeling like she had just been drenched in sparkly perfume and assaulted by a Build a Bear store. She was so naturally sweet and non-judgmental that Santana finally felt like she had found that perfect mind. That's how Santana and Brittany had become best friends. Santana didn't feel like she had to be such a bitch around Brittany and through access to her mind, Santana could explain Brittany's ideas to others who didn't understand.
It was so refreshing to just hear the calm, sweet natured peace of Brittany's mind after a day of school. All day it was nonstop chatter in her head: yearns for crushes, insecure feelings, sexual innuendos and ideas, mean jokes and criticisms, nonstop.
She didn't mind glee club. Across the room Rachel was browsing sheet music, song names going through her mind at a mile a minute. It gave Santana a headache to listen to her. Behind her she could hear Finn thinking about Rachel's boobs. (Ew!) And Puck was thinking about getting into some sophomore's pants. Tina was thinking some rather un-Tina-ish thoughts about Mike Chang and-.
He looks so cute today.
Santana looked up. Who had said that? Who were they talking about? Her head whirled around the room. Quinn and Brittany were chatting, deep in conversation. Resident bad boy Blaine Andersonwas sulking in the back with his feet propped up on another chair, toying with his leather jacket, and Mercedes was arguing with Kurt. She frowned in confusion. Had it come from outside of the room?
His hair looks so fluffy and soft.
This time Santana was sure it had come from the inside of the room. The person had thought "he" so it had to be one of the girls. Rachel, maybe.
Fuck, I can see his cock right through his jeans.
Santana's eyes widened comically at that. That was definitely not the same person. The tone and sound was all different. What was going on?
God, you're such an idiot! Just talk to him!
Mmm, I would give a month's allowance to squeeze that ass.
He could come over to my house and watch Disney Movies with me.
He can feel free to climb through my bedroom window any time.
Maybe if I made him cookies?
Maybe I need tighter pants.
"Who is that?" Santana finally shouted.
Everybody stopped talking and looked at her.
"Crazy much?" Kurt asked snobbily.
"Yea, like your outfit." She retorted.
Bitch.
"Better than anything you own." Kurt replied.
"That explains why you've never been laid." She bit back.
Slut. Pretty young virgins are totally sexy.
"Ugh. Don't throw that vulgarity my way. Save it for the football team." Kurt scoffed.
"Jealous much?" Santana smirked.
Yes. Gangbang anyone?
"No! That's just sickening." Kurt scowled. "Being easier than a coloring book isn't a good thing, Satan."
Unless they're coloring me white.
At that one Santana nearly laughed out loud. "Okay, priss, listen here. I understand that you've got a stick up your ass since nobody else is willing to fill the void,"
Wanky.
"but don't try and play "little innocent saint" with me." She said, getting right up in Kurt's face.
He looks so cute when he's angry.
Santana looked around the room. Everyone was staring at them except for Blaine, who looked like he didn't give a fuck.
Kurt narrowed his eyes at her. "It's so sad that you turn to whoring to deal with your insecurities. Not classy at all." He sniffed.
Santana smirked at him. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, gayface."
I love his cherub face. He looks like an adorable angel.
Kurt rolled his eyes and turned back to his conversation with Mercedes. Santana was a bitch, end of story. That's how it always ended. She sighed and took her seat. Kurt had some serious issues with denial, but at least she now knew who was dirty talking in her head. If only she could figure out who he was talking about and who that disgustingly sweet voice was.
I would suck that cock like a popsicle.
Santana nearly snorted at that. Kurt had the most entertaining mind when he wasn't jabbering away about clothes and Broadway. One of the great advantages to mind reading was the deep dark secrets that occasionally popped up. Like that time Santana caught David Karofsky thinking about Kurt's ass. It was so worth the constant chatter.
After rifling through more songs with Rachel, Mr. Schue dismissed the glee clubbers for the day. Santana stood and grabbed her bag, waiting for Brittany and Quinn.
He's so beautiful.
Santana sighed in frustration. Looks like she wasn't going to find out who that voice was today. "Hurry up, Quinn. My nails aren't going to paint themselves." Everybody was gone except for Blaine and Kurt, who was stuffing sheet music into his bag. He turned around, smacking right into Blaine and dropping his bag, sighing as his papers spilled out onto the floor.
Blaine stared at Kurt, then at the floor, the look of carelessness never leaving his face. "Sorry." He said unapologetically and leaned down to grab some of them.
I'm such an idiot!
Santana raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest.
Kurt stayed standing, staring at Blaine dumbly.
Shit, his ass looks delicious in those jeans!
Blaine stood and handed the papers to Kurt, who gave him a small smile and stuffed them back into his bag. "Thanks."
His eyes are so gorgeous I think I'm going to melt. Just be cool, Anderson. Just pretend he's Rachel or something and not the most adorable, remarkable boy in school.
"No problem." Blaine shrugged, stalking out of the room.
Santana bit back a laugh as she walked out to the parking lot with Brittany and Quinn. This was just too good. Bad ass, hard as rocks Blaine had a huge soft spot (or hard) for goody two shoes Hummel. Even better, that priss had a mind full of dirty thoughts for Blaine. She wasn't sure if she should tell anybody or not. On one hand, it would be hilarious, but on the other hand, they would probably get their asses kicked for wanting to be gay with each other. She sighed, when had she grown a conscience?