This Cheerleader's Trouble (And she's all mine) | Santana Lopez

3

A/N: Who's here?

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"Who can tell me who Christopher Cross is?"

"He discovered America!" Brittany quickly blurted out her answer.

"Close." Mr. Schuester winced. "He did write an iconic chart topper: Sailing."

Santana rolled her eyes and leaned her head on her friend's shoulder. She didn't want to listen to Mr. Schuester blab on about another artist she didn't know about. She wanted modern music. People she'd hear on the radio. Iconic singers from her childhood. Why was that so hard for him to understand?

Reflecting her thoughts, Tina crossed her arms and sunk back in her chair.

"Never heard of him, don't want to hear about him." She grumbled.

"Now some people think of the term Easy Listening as a bad thing, but I'm going to let this music speak for itself." Mr. Schuester ignored his student's disinterest. "You guys love Lady Gaga and the Rolling Stones, and you guys are really good about putting it all out there . . . but really good music can also be controlled and restrained. It doesn't have to attack an audience; it can let them come to you."

"I'm so bored." Brittany pouted.

"Same." Santana dragged herself up from her friend's shoulder and accepted sheet music from Mercedes.

"How could you get caught between the moon and New York City?" Finn asked, as Santana's lips tugged downward. "They're like a hundred miles apart."

Santana's thumb brushed the ink letters. She felt that familiar tightening in her chest. She's felt it often. Like her entire life was fading away. Everything she once believed would reach her had become lost in translation. Her chest weighted down, her shoulders locked up and tight to the point Coach Sylvester fussed at her for having her head in the clouds.

Her head wasn't in the clouds. It was in New York City.

Like the world turned only for her, Santana felt her cell phone buzz in her pocket. She reached inside and carefully pulled it out to read who could be messaging her during school hours.

It wasn't a message. It was a Facebook notification.

Madison Casper has posted an update.

Santana ignored Mr. Schuester's argument with Kurt and quickly pressed the notification. She sat up and instantly felt all her pain wash away, even if only for a moment, when Madison's freckled face appeared on the screen.

She screenshotted the picture of Madison sitting with Cosmo in Central Park. She still looked tired and had her headphones glued over her ears, but she looked more relaxed. Madison's head leaned into Cosmo's side, sprawling out over their blanket. Elijah must have taken it based on his guitar in lap view of the camera.

Santana zoomed into Madison's face, then her dog's goofy tongue. She looked at the background closely and tried to imagine what Madison spent her days doing in that big, loud city.

Central Park Blues and Cosmos – with Elijah Blue

Her thumb hovered over the post thoughtfully. She could like it and let her know she was watching. Or Santana could ignore it and find peace of mind knowing Madison wasn't entirely unhappy.

But would it send the wrong message if she did like it?

She didn't want Madison knowing she was some weak little chum waiting for her to come back so she could continue their little mindless flirting games. Santana Lopez didn't hang on people and wait for them come back and decide she was important. Madison should know what she's missing out on. She should be the one crying at night with Santana on her mind not the other way around! It was—