Dave was crying again, it was more like forced sobs than crying, actually. He sat at his desk lately and just made himself cry. He was tired of bottling everything up and these sessions where he just let go and cried made him feel a lot better than slamming his fist into a locker ever had.

He sniffed and grabbed a few tissues, wiping his face thoroughly so his father wouldn't ask questions. He moved sluggishly over to his bed and flung himself onto it. He knew that he had geometry homework, but the feeling deep in his stomach told him he'd probably stay home tomorrow. He groaned loudly, trying to keep his mind from wondering to—

"Get up, you lazy piece of shit." The sudden interruption caused Dave to jolt and fall onto the floor. He got up and looked over to his door to find a lean girl bent over laughing at him.

"Oh my god Karofsky, you should have seen yourself, you looked like you saw Samara or something." Santana wiped her eyes, where some tears had collected, and walked over to lean on Dave.

"So, chickenshit, are you ready?"

"Stop calling me names, Lopez, this is already hard as is." Dave looked in his mirror quickly to see if his eyes were still red, and unfortunately Santana caught him. She grabbed his face and turned it towards her.

"Have you been… crying?" She raised an eyebrow and let go of his face. He looked down at his feet and tried to keep the blood from rushing to his face.

"Oh my god you have! Karofsky, why? Is it Kurt?" She tried to look him in the eye but his head stayed firmly in place.

"No. My cat died." Santana rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest.

"You are the worst liar, Karofsky, ugh. I didn't know it was this serious, okay, sit down, it's about to get a whole lot more Dr. Phil up in here." Dave gave a small smile, but sat down on his bed where Santana suggested. She sat down in his desk chair and crossed her legs, placed her hands over them, and looked at Dave with a forced smile.

"So David, when did this all start?" Dave tried to hold back a laugh at her southern accent.

"God, Santana you can not do that accent." She looked affronted.

"I can too!" He ducked as she threw his geometry textbook at him. "That could have seriously hurt me!" Dave yelled as his arms flew up to protect his head.

"That was the point!" She screamed back, pretending to lunge at Dave and laughing heartedly when he flinched.

"What about you, Santana, how did you do it?" Santana's smile froze at Dave's sudden change of tone. "Do what?" she asked, slipping back into her seat.

"Come to terms with being a lesbian? Like you seemed so okay with it at the coffee shop. How? I kind of hate myself right now." Dave looked at his hands again. Santana sighed, "I do hate myself. That's probably the only thing I am completely sure of. It's awful, but I'm really good at covering shit up, and you should feel really good about this because I don't share this information with everyone. I love Brittany, but she rejected me. I think we need to help each other. I didn't just come to you because I wanted Kurt back. I came to you because you understand me when no one else does, or at least I'm hoping you will." Dave looked up and nodded, finally understanding that this girl who he always thought as so strong was as vulnerable as him.

"We are in the same boat, I guess."

"Damn straight. Well… not really straight." They both laughed and Santana plopped down on the bed next to Karofsky.

"Wait a second," Dave asked suddenly, "How did you even get in here?" Santana shook her head and laughed some more before answering. "Your dad is obviously a bit slow. I told him I had a singing telegram for David Karofsky and he showed me up. I bet he's pretty confused right about now." Dave let out a bark of laughter and soon Santana joined in.

"We'd better go down, I'm sure he'd love to meet you." Santana smiled at that and let Dave show her into the living room where his father was watching a car show.

"So are you ever going to talk to Brittany?" Dave said quietly as he sat down beside Santana on the bleachers.

"I have, but like every time I talk to her, she brings up wheels and I just want to punch something, you know?" Dave nodded in agreement.

"And you told her how you felt?"

"Yes, I had this whole huge speech and everything and I said I fucking loved her, right? And that's big, man, like really big, and she just said she couldn't because of the four-eyed cripple. It's frustrating because I really want to be with her, that's the only thing I know will make me happy, but this rejection, it tears me up, like I have no idea how to deal with it. I mean, I'm used to being accommodated. I've never been turned down before." Santana cradled her head in her hands and took shaky breaths into her nose, forcing them out of her mouth. Dave sat there uselessly, his hand hovering over her back, deciding whether to place his hand there as a sign of understanding.

"I kissed him." Santana's head shot up and she looked at Dave, her eyes urging him to explain. Dave regretted the outburst but lowered his voice to tell her.

"One day Kurt followed me into the locker room after I pushed him into the lockers. He started yelling and I was yelling and he called me a scared little boy and I kissed him. I didn't know what I was doing and I just did it. That's why he left. I told him I'd kill him if he told anyone." Santana's mouth was wide open and her eyebrows were raised to her hairline. Suddenly she broke her trance and punched him in the arm.

"You are an idiot!" Dave winced away, "I know, god, I know."

"What the hell are we going to do, Karofsky."

"I have no idea, Lopez."