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

4

A/N: Who's here?

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         Santana decided to pretend like she didn't confess to thinking she was gay. She was emotional, on her period, and pissed off that Madison Blue wouldn't grow some balls and message her. It was not her job to apologize again and again for something she didn't do.

Puckering her lips, she focused on her reflection. The mirror in her locker would have to do to fix the messy lipstick Puck left behind after they made out in the boy's bathroom in B building. He was sloppy and showed no wish to learn how to kiss better, but at least her was the most desired guy at Mckinley.

Which made her the most desired girl. Fuck Quinn Fabray and her stupid blonde ponytail.

Suddenly, the mirror swung toward her. Before Santana had the chance to move, her locker door slapped into her face and smeared her bright red lipstick down her lip and over her jaw.

Santana gasped.

"What the fuck?" She slammed her locker door and searched for the culprit. She grabbed the backpack of her locker neighbor and ripped the hockey stick out the side handle. "Watch where you swing this thing before I—"

The hockey stick nearly tumbled to the floor as the player turned to face her. A deep, freckled filled scowl met her haunted gaze, ripping the stick out of Santana's hands.

"What?" the redhead spat. "You never seen a girl hockey player before, Becky G?"

Santana shook her surprise away in seconds.

"Who the hell do you think you're talking to?" She asked. "Who even are you?"

"I could ask you the same thing." The girl tilted her coffee cup to Santana before taking a small sip. "I guess we're locker neighbors now."

"No. You're not staying in this locker." Santana shook her head. "You need to go."

The girl twisted her upper body and looked around. She shrugged and met Santana's eyes.

"Says who?" she asked.

"Says me." Santana hissed.

"Okay, well, me says you wrong." The girl pouted her bottom lip and returned to her locker. "Go kill someone else vibes. I'm having a great day and don't need you ruining it."

"The vibes?" Santana scoffed. "What are you? A druggie?"

"Like I'd ever touch drugs." She wrinkled her nose in disgust. "My brain is still developing. You should have considered that before . . ." Her eyes raked up and down Santana before humming and looking away. "Whatever drugs you took."

"I smoke cigars."

"Girl." The redhead held up a finger, balancing her coffee cup in the same hand. She sorted through her locker and closed the door. "You really need to find better comebacks."

Santana's jaw locked as the girl smirked. Her brown eyes twinkled playfully, unphased by Santana's reddening face.

"I'm Camila." She leaned closer. "That way when you talk shit about me to your friends, you don't make up some stupid nicknames."

"I—"

"Adios, Mamas." Camila winked and stepped around Santana. She clipped her shoulder lightly with her hockey stick and laughed. "Learn some better comebacks before I see you again. Oh! And fix your makeup before it stains."

Santana spun around and glared at the redheaded girl.

"You won't see me again!" She called after her. "You'll be lucky to make it to next period!"

Camila turned and walked backwards down the hallway.

"Oooo, I'm so scared." She said, pretending to shiver. "What ever will I do?"

She loudly laughed; her head thrown back as Camila returned to walking normally. She tapped her stick along the ground and didn't bother weaving through other students. No, no, they moved for her.

XXXX

"Tsunamis are enormous, sky-scraper sized waves. Most of the time, it's not a matter of if they'll hit. It's all about waiting for it to hit."

Madison only half listened to their teacher as she walked around the classroom motioning to the power point. Usually she'd be all ears, ready to take notes, but her mind was wandering too much today. Hell, she'd struggled every day this year. Everything they were learning, she already learned, mastered, and moved past.

Elijah put her in ninth grade. Ninth grade. That means she's stuck at school for four more freaking years. She doesn't get to graduate early and move into college, she doesn't get to work toward her medical degree at a young age, and she doesn't get to leave. She'd be stuck here from eight am to two in the afternoon every day.

"Madison." A voice whispered behind her. "Madison!"

The redhead turned and peeked over her shoulder when the teacher wasn't looking. He frowned when she found a paper shoved into her hands by Dustin before he returned to his notes.

Madison glanced up at the teacher a few times. She unraveled the paper and flattened it to get a better look at the messy handwriting.

Have you ever been to the city? A few of us are going tonight. We can go to the Lego store! You should come hangout before your first practice on Monday. Meet people!

- Alexa <3

Madison chewed on her lip and pretended to take her time reading the note. She wasn't too fond of the city when she went with Elijah. It was loud and chaotic. But if she wanted to fit in with the choir group here, she might need to try something a little less antisocial. At least Alexa understood she sometimes couldn't take off her headphones or handle too much touching.

But did she really want to go?

Did she even want to stay home?

Did she want to make friends?

Did she want to be alone forever?

A hand tapped her shoulder. Madison turned and tensed when she noticed the teaching aid kneeling beside her.

"I'm paying attention." She quickly said, covering the note with her textbook.

The woman chuckled and sent her a knowing look.

"It's okay." She reassured her. "You're about to be called over the intercom and I didn't want you to be startled. We're going to go to that meeting with your dad and Miss Fletcher."

Madison frowned at the mention of the guidance counselor. She didn't understand why she needed a teaching aid in her classes, a peer mentor, or these weekly check-ins with the counselor and Elijah.

"Alright?" Victoria asked.

Madison slowly nodded, though her disappointment was obvious.

"Good. Go ahead and pack up your things." The woman touched her shoulder lightly before returning to her seat in the back of the room.

Madison huffed and sank into her chair. Her cheeks reddened when she noticed a few students glancing curiously in her direction.

How embarrassing. She used to be the smart kid. Now she's the kid that's babysat all day like she'd shatter any minute.

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