showstopper (santana x reader)

making (and breaking) amends

a.n: i haven't had time to check for spelling/grammar/ plot mistakes, so if you spot any don't worry- they'll be fixed soon!

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I found myself in the Guidance Counsellor's office again, still scribbling on one of those dumb sheets full of questions.

Miss Pillsbury hasn't looked at me yet. I don't think she likes me that much. After last session, I wouldn't like me that much either.

"You can express your feelings." I muttered, putting a line through a 't'. "It always helps to hear suggestions."

"Oh don't worry about me, i wasn't going to say anything."

"Miss Pillsbury, look," I chucked my pen onto the table, folding my arms. "You're a guidance counsellor, I get that- but everyone needs guidance sometimes. C'mon, tell me what's bugging you."

She runmaged her brain for words, I could tell. I was egging her on mentally.

"I would, but you really need to get those tests done." she replied. "Aren't you hoping to get into Senior year?"

"I don't really care for chemistry; I'm also pretty sure we've established what I'm capable of as well,"

"Y/N, the way you made me feel... it wasn't very... it wasn't very nice,"

"I apologise. But, a vital step is sharing what i did that you didn't like."

"Well, you whittled me down until I couldn't take it anymore. It made me feel..."

"Scared? Uncomfortable? Pressured?"

"Yes,"

"I get that. I completely do. Now, did getting what you admitted out in the open feel good?"

"Sort of?"

"Hm, okay," I nodded. "Do you think Mr Shuester feels the same way about you?"

"No. Will is Will, and I'm... well... me."

"What?" I gasped, dramatically holding my hand to my chest. "Why would you say that? Miss Pillsbury, you're great! I mean, you helped me through a panic attack, I opened up to you, besides you're like super hygienic,"

"Wow," she grinned. "That is very sweet of you,
Y/N."

Seeing her smile made me celebrate in my head. I had finally made amends.

"Now, back to your tests!"

"C'mon...." I whined. "Can you just read them out to me again?"

"Alright,"

Sanitising she picked a random paper up, holding it infront of her eyes.

"Spell the phycological term for extreme overwhelming prolixity."

"I-o-g-o-r-r-h-e-a. Iogorrhea."

She frowned, scanning the other papers.

"Uhm, what's the answer to ×3 z3 K?"

Pausing to think, the working out played through my head like a movie.

"3xyz. Correct?"

"I think so..."

Dropping that paper, she scowered around the desk, rooting through drawers and folders to find something. I could hear the door open and close, but didn't bother to check which teacher it was.

"Uhm, just sit down, I'll speak to you just after I finish something with Y/N!"

"What are you even doing? It looks like a mess in here,"