"Santana."

I don't how this happened.

"Psst, Santana."

This whole school thing.

I'm not even sure why I'm here.

"Santana."

I could drop out. I should drop out.

I think that's a good idea.

"Santana."

I should drop out before I kill someone. And by someone, I mean Quinn Fabray. She is two seconds away from getting on my last nerve.

"Santana."

I am not going to talk to her. I'm not even going to bother to look at her. I will not give this ass the honor of laying my eyes upon her. I will just ignore her and maybe she will shut the fuck up and leave me alone.

"Santana." She sings to me mockingly.

But if this bitch calls my name one more fucking time I am going to strangle the holy bible out of her.

"Santana!"

I turn around so fast I nearly break my neck and send Quinn the most murderous glare I could ever muster up. "For fucks sake Fabgay, why in all of hell are you calling my fucking name every goddamn second?"

"Santana! Is there any particular reason why you are interrupting my class," says -sorry I mean spits- my Government teacher.

"Are you shitting me right now?" I yelled as I turned around to point at the blonde bitch who was calling me for the past forty-five minutes. "Quinn was just calling my name for practically the whole class period and somehow, some fucking way, you managed to only hear me talking."

Mr. Bert rubs his eyes and gives me a hard glare. "Look Santana, I don't care who was talking, all I care about is who I heard interrupting my class, which was you. Now sit down and pay attention."

I roll my eyes. What a prick. "Really you only heard me talking, I think that's because you're a racist."

Yup that's me, playing the race card.

He looked at me like I told him I was fucking his wife. "First of all I won't allow such accusations to be thrown at me in my own classroom, and secondly I'm giving you afterschool detention."

I hear Quinn snickering in the background. I swear I have no idea why I consider that prude to be my best friend sometimes.

"Whatever," I say as roll my eyes for the second time that day. "Like I give a flying fuck."

"And you're getting another afterschool detention for your language." He said, smirking at me while the bell rung to signal the end of class.

God I fucking hate this guy.

I packed up my stuff and slipped out of the classroom because I'm pretty sure if I had to look at his smug ass face again I was going to beat the living shit out of him.

And speaking of smug ass faces.

I walk right out of the classroom just to bump into Quinn who had a smug, shit-eating grin on her fugly face. She opened her mouth to say something but raised my hand and interrupted her.

"Quinn I am two seconds from going all Lima Heights on your ass, so if you feel like your life is worth something I suggest you should try not to add more fuel to the flame." I said as I walked right past her and towards the cafeteria.

Her grin quickly turned into a smirk. "Sorry about that Santana," she said as she tightened her Cheerios bag's strap and ran to my side. "But you know how much I love to get on your nerves."

I rolled my eyes. I seemed to be doing that a lot lately. "Yeah, and I know how much you would love to get into my pants to Fabgay."

I looked around the cafeteria and saw the only empty table near the boys' bathroom. And I was sure as hell not sitting there. So we walked up to a group of no-name students sitting near at a table near the water fountain.

Quinn put her Cheerios captain no-nonsense face on and nodded her head away table. "Scram."

All the kids at the table groaned and pick up their things and left. I grinned.

She frowned. "Any chance you will stop calling me that Satan?" She said referring back to my well-known nickname of her.

I smirked. "Any chance you will break up with your beard, Sam, and stop wetting your panties over seeing that over-grown infant?"

Her face turned bright pink and she scoffed. "Whatever bitch, and I don't like her so fuck off." Then she looked up at me with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "But is there any chance you'll stop getting yourself off to watching Brittany dance."

"Getting what off to watching me dance?" I heard Britt say behind me as she placed her bag and her lunch down on the table and sat next to me, our thighs touching.

Quinn smirked but I just ignored her and grabbed the fruit salad out of Brittany's lunch bag. "Nothing Britt-Britt, Quinn's just worried that her boy-toy probably prefers dick over her."

She just flipped me off.

I laughed and turned back to Britt. "So, speaking of boy-toys, where's Stubbles-McCrippled pants at?"

Brittany frowned. "San, you know Artie hates it when you call him that."

I placed my head on my hand. "Yeah, yeah, Britt, but I'm just kidding around." Not really. "Besides, I have a nickname for everyone." I turned to Quinn and smiled sweetly. "Like Quinn's is-"

She glared at me. "Don't start Satan. Don't start."

I brushed her off with my hand. "Whatever, Quinnie, anyway if you really want me to stop calling him that I will." I said directing my attention to Brittany.

She raised a brow. "Really?"

I nodded. "Really."

"Fine." She said as she started to eat her turkey sandwich. "Don't call him that, it hurts his feelings."

"Fine, whatever." I said sighing and rolling my eyes as I finished my fruit salad. I see Quinn, from the corner of my eye making a whipping motion. I'm going to beat that girl senseless one day.

"So, where is the loser anyway?" Brittany rolled her eyes at my new nickname for him.

"He's with Mike and Sam, waiting for Teen Jesus to finish talking with Mr. Shue." She explained while brushing her bright blonde hair behind her hair behind her ear.

Fuck, she's gorgeous.

Maybe if I kill Artie, I could get Quinn to hide his body somewhere within the piles of Bibles her mom hoards in her basement.

And Brittany would come running to me asking me where he is and I could say that the douche left her for another girl. And she wouldn't even cry about because she would say that she was in love with me this entire time. And then she would jump into my arms and I would take her to my house and make sweet love to her all night and day for the rest of my life. And then we would move out of Lima and I would become a famous singer and/or photographer and Brittany would become a famous dance choreographer.

And then we would have four kids. Two girls and two boys. Also we would have a cat, if Lord Tubbington didn't die of old age or diabetes, and two dogs. Preferably German Shepards. And a vacation house in Puerto Rico. And we would have our regular house in California, well if gay marriage will ever be legal there again.

I mean for fucks sake they keep going back and forth with it. Just make up your goddamn indecisive-

"Sanny?" I heard Britt say, sounding confused. "Are you okay?"

"Huh? What happened? What?" I said slightly panicking as I realized I was staring at Brittany the entire time I was day-dreaming.

"You were staring at Brittany's face like you were going to devour it." Of course, Bitch Quinn has to point out every little fucking thing to make me look like a freak. Not that I wasn't doing a good job at that already.

"You can't devour someone's face Quinn." Brittany said as she placed a hand on my forehead to see if I was sick. "Right Sanny?"

I blushed. "Uh, what?"

"I don't think it's the most appropriate time to ask her questions that require her to have a brain to function Britt."

I growled. "Fuck off Fabray."

I turned my head to see Mercedes walking up to our table. "'Sup wheezy." I said as she sat next to Quinn. "Quinn. Brittany. Satan."

I rolled my eyes. "Where are the Gay wonder twins at?"

Brittany snorted. I smirked.

"Kurt and Rachel are "vocal training" in the Glee Club room so they won't be joining us today."

"Thank God." I mutter. Quinn kicked me.

"Fuck," I yelped as I rubbed my knee. "What Fabray? Are you mad that I took the Lord's name in vain or that I was insulting your girl?"

Mercedes laughed. "Ahh, Satan, and you wonder why you were given that nickname."

I smirked. "I never wondered about that. I was just wondering why it took you losers so long to give it to me."

"Hey San," Brittany said as she poked me in the rib. "Me, you, and Quinn should totally join Glee Club, we could even get Mike and Sam to join!"

I sighed. "I don't know Britt, You're busy with dance, I'm busy with yearbook, and Quinnie here," I pointed to Quinn but she was too busy talking to Wheezy. "Is too busy pretending to be a good little Christian girl, so I don't know if it'll work out."

She pouted. "Aw, come on, why not? We could always make time." My breath hitched as she grabbed my hand and rubbed her thumb against my palm. "Please, just think about."

I bit my lip. "Okay, uh, yeah sure I'll think about it."

She smiled and locked her fingers with mine and went back to eating her food. I grinned. I swear something about her always puts me in a good mood.

"Hey Artie," I heard Mercedes say. I felt Brittany let go of my hand and turned to see her kiss McCrippled on the lips.

I turned back around, bit the inside of my cheek and tried to hide the hurt look on my face. I looked up to see Quinn giving me a sympathetic look and rolled my eyes.

"Whatever." I muttered. I placed my elbow on the table and rested my chin on my hand.

Like I care.


An: Okay to clarify a few things. Quinn's a Cheerio. Sam's dating her. Santana's in yearbook and she's not a cheerio. Brittany isn't either but she is in a dance class/club. Mercedes, Rachel, Kurt, Artie, Finn, and Tina are in Glee Club. And that's about it. So here's the first chapter. Hoped you enjoy it.

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