Hello all…. Aren't filler chapters just the rage these days? Well… this was intended to be the last chapter of Behave! for good, but thanks to Brittanafan and her lovely idea, I've decided to run with it and inject a little, tiny bit of drama. Why not?
This is for BB, Nena, and Jenny… and as usual, anyone and everyone who spares a moment to read what I write. Thanks again, Brittanafan.
What? It was a JOKE! Laugh a little!
Had spacing issues on this, I have no idea what happened...
It had been a long few days since Santana had let Booboo Kittyface become part of the group. Britt had gone home for a few days, as had Rachel, so Santana and Quinn were stuck cleaning the litter box, but Santana found that if she just did it after every time the kitten went in, she had no issues.
Today was Friday, though, and that meant they would all reconvene at Santana's house for the weekend. Quinn had woken up with a slight fever and a raging headache, so she was missing half of the school day to go to the Doctor's office. Santana drove to school alone, not thrilled with the fact that she wouldn't see any of her girlfriends until Spanish class. She strode down the hall with a purpose, sighing when she saw Kurt waiting for Blaine near her locker. She didn't hate him, she just didn't really feel like talking to anyone. She was having an off day.
"Lady Pants…" Santana quipped at Kurt as she opened her locker.
"Satan…" He called back, leaning against the lockers casually, "Will the four of you freaky femmes be dropping by chez moi this weekend for the pool party?"
Santana rolled her eyes good naturally as she switched her books out for the next period, "English, Kurt…English… And yes, we'll be there. Can't keep Britt away from a body of water."
"Ducks?" He asked knowingly.
"I'll never know why the hell she thinks ducks would want to live in a swimming pool." Santana mused, closing her locker with a small flourish.
"Anyway, Fruity Loops, I gotta get to class….See ya later."
"Okay…" Kurt mumbled, distracted at having seen his Warbler coming down the corridor.
Santana went through the motions of her day until she got to Spanish class. She smiled broadly as she walked in and took her seat, fully expecting to meet up with her girls… Huh. Rachel wasn't in yet…the Latina was a bit puzzled. Rachel was never late to a class. Ever. Brittany would be at least five minutes late, but as the bell rang and the minutes ticked by, Santana grew more and more annoyed. Where the hell were they? She whipped out her cell and began to text Brittany.
Where u B?
She stared at the screen for what seemed like hours. Finally, she got an answer.
mall w/Rach… New dress.
The Latina felt the annoyance rise into chest…she had a sudden urge to slap the new girl in front of her in the back of the head. She slammed her pen on the desk and watched as it bounced up and dinked the girl on the top of her head. The brunette in front of her turned and glared at Santana, boldly making angry eye contact. The Latina was a bit surprised… Even new people usually knew not to fuck with her, but this girl was kinda cute so, instead of shooting her a dirty look and a string of expletives, Santana merely denied her an apology. She just stared back blankly, then shook it off and texted Brittany back.
middle of a school day, ur mall?
Again, she stared at the screen while Mr. Schue rambled on at the front of the room until it lit up.
Figgins gave us a half day for helping clean up the gym…
Santana rolled her eyes angrily… of course, he had. She just knew she should have helped clean up after the stupid pep rally instead of dragging Quinn off to get it in. Stupid ass sex drive. Stupid Figgins…. Fuck it… she was going to leave. She barreled towards the parking lot door after Spanish class was over… Quinn had texted her something about not making it to school because of the heinous wait at the Doc's office. Santana just wanted to go home and see someone she liked.
"Hey!" a voice called.
Santana stopped, her hand on the door. She closed her eyes, trying to hang on to a sliver of nearly non-existent patience, but not having much hope. She turned around and was confronted by the cute new girl.
"What?" Santana asked casually, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Do you make a habit out of hitting new people in the head?" the girl asked angrily, drawing her hands up to her hips.
The Latina bristled slightly at the aggressive stance, "Yup." She replied cooly, turning and leaving the pissed off girl behind her.
As Santana got into her car, it dawned on her that the four of them were going to have serious attendance issues if they didn't start going to and staying in school. Rachel hadn't worried once, but the 2nd semester was halfway over, and progress reports would be out soon. Once the diva saw her less than perfect attendance for the marking period, she'd be all sorts of worked up.
Santana started her car and revved the engine, she fucking loved her black-on-black Challenger, and whipped it out of the parking space, peeling out of the lot with a vengeance. The girls should be at her house by now, and she needed some serious loving to get her out of the funk she was in.
Three miles down the road at 60 mph later, the Latina downshifted near the same intersection she had to stop at every day…only this day was marred by a loud pop and the terrible, terrible sound of a chrome 22 inch rim scraping against concrete.
"Fuck me! Fuck me!" She repeated in disbelief as she pulled over and sprang from the car, hoping she'd imagined the whole thing.
She had not…
Her front left tire had blown out and the expensive rim was bent and scratched to hell. There was no way she could drive it, and no way she wasn't going to have to pay through the nose to get it fixed. Santana stood, mouth agape, trying to comprehend the culmination of the shittiest day she'd had in a long time.
After she'd phoned Triple A, she sat in her car as it began to rain and stewed in her anger at the entire affair. She closed her phone and ignored a text from Quinn when she saw the the blonde had notified her that she'd be meeting up with the other girls at the mall instead of heading home straight away. She turned her phone off and leaned her head against the window.
Two painfully slow hours later, she saw the flashing yellow light of the Triple A tow truck pulling up behind her car. Of course, the tow truck driver was incompetent. Of course, he came up too fast.
Of course, he couldn't stop his beast of a truck in time not to smack straight into the back of Santana's car.
Of course….The Latina was ready to go to jail.
"What the FUCK is your problem, asshole?" She shrieked, slamming her driver's side door as she approached the idiot who was trying to stammer an apology. "What? They don't pay you enough to look where the FUCK you're going?" she demanded, poking him in the chest sharply. She saw familiar faces gawking at her from their cars… Awesome… She might as well have stayed in school for the day since it had just let out.
She turned her attention back to the tow truck driver, "Well? I need insurance info or something, douchebag…You're letting me stand out in this damn rain and fuck my hair up. Seriously, are you fucking retarded or something?"
"Sorry, Miss Lopez…. it's just… Well, I tried to call you, but it went to voicemail, and I couldn't find you…" he stammered, clearly intimidated by this spitfire who was half his size, "And, um, it was raining really hard when I pulled up, and you didn't have your hazards on like… Like they, uh, askyoutodowhenyoucall…."
Santana was a bit horrified as the realization hit her that the collision was pretty much her fault. "Um, thanks…" She sighed, waving him away…to where, she didn't know, "Uh, take it to the shop on walnut, please…I'll pay for the bumper."
"Miss…I'm supposed to take you home, you know."
There was no way in hell Santana could get in the truck with him after she'd called him a douchebag and questioned his mental stability, "No, it's okay, I'll walk."
He had her sign a waiver and let her go on her way, driving past her moments later with her beautiful, broken car on the flatbed. As the rain let up, she pulled her phone out of her pocket and switched it on to about nine various texts and voicemails from her girlfriends. As she sorted through them, she realized that none of them were worried… they were all random fucking calls and texts about who went where, and who bought what, and who needed ninety dollars for a special edition of Funny Girl with a new commentary by "Babs" herself. She laughed dryly and switched her phone off again, slowing her pace. She was feeling a full blown pity party.
A silver Acura pulled up alongside her and the window rolled down slowly.
Great… it was new girl.
"Need a ride?" she called, grinning slyly.
It was starting to rain again… Why the fuck not?
Santana walked over to the girl's car wordlessly, pulling the door open, and barely making eye contact as she slid into the passenger seat.
"Wherever." Santana replied morosely.
"I, uh…I have a bottle, you know… if you wanna chill." The girl answered cautiously.
"Bottle of what?"
The Latina shrugged, "Alright, fine… What's your name, anyway, new girl?"
The girl laughed as she pulled the clear glass bottle of 190 proof liquor from under her seat and handed it to the Latina as they pulled off into a park, "Brielle."
"Cool…" Santana said awkwardly, ignoring the nagging feeling that this was going to be a very, very bad idea, "I'm Santana." she said, taking a pull on what tasted like fucking jet fuel.
Almost half a bottle later, the two were drunk as hell, laughing and joking like they'd known one another forever.
With every passing minute, Brielle became more and more attractive…Santana couldn't take her eyes off the girl's full lips. She had a brief daydream while the other girl went on a drunken ramble about where she had moved from, wherein the Latina did very dirty things to her.
The next thing she knew, Brielle was practically in her lap…her lips pressed against Santana's, her hands on Santana's face…
Alcohol always smelled good on a pretty girl's breath, Santana thought as she returned the kiss. This… was SUCH a good idea.
Until it wasn't….
Realization hit Santana like a bag full of rocks. She needed to get home, ASAP. She ignored Brielle's drunken protests and stumbled out of the car into the dark.
The Latina walked for what felt like hours until she reached her front door. Before she could wrap her fingers around the doorknob, it swung open on its own. Quinn could smell the alcohol on her girlfriend from the moment the door opened.
"Where the hell have you been, Santana?"
Santana sighed… She had a lot of 'splainin' to do.