Never again (Quinntana)

Chapter 2 - Santana

Santana was woken up by the sunlight seeping through her window.

She rubbed her eyes sleepily. She had fallen asleep on the covers, all dressed. That happened to her quite often; she would struggle with her thoughts, music filling the room, until her eyelids became too heavy and her eyes closed, taking her to the world of dreams - or, in her case, nightmares.

As usual, dried tears stained her face. 

A thought made her jump out of her bed. Today was her first day of school. 

And her alarm hadn't rung.

She checked her watch. It was already 8 o'clock.

Of course. Why hasn't that damn alarm rung?

Santana reached for the phone on her nightstand. It was dead, probably from all the music playing from the day before; she groaned in frustration.

The Latina jumped out of bed, discarded her crumpled clothes, and dressed in her running attire. 

Santana could either take the bus to school, run or walk there. But considering the time, walking wasn't an option, and the bus had probably already passed.

Great. Just great. 

Showing up all sweaty to school definitely wasn't in her plans.

As she exited her room, grabbing her bag, Santana caught her reflection in the five-foot-tall mirror that adorned the door of her closet.

She looked like hell. 

Her black hair resembled a lion's mane, untamed and tangled; dark bags surrounded her eyes, and she could make out the trail of dried tears on her cheeks.

Way to make a great impression. She snorted.

Splashing water on her face helped her, and she pulled her hair into a messy ponytail. That would do.

As she hurtled down the flight of stairs that led to the living-room, she heard her mom from the adjoining kitchen.

"Santana, mi amor, are you okay? You slept on the covers again..."

"Yes, mom, I am fine. And late. I need to go." 

Santana sped to the kitchen, embraced her mom and blew a light kiss on her cheek. "Bye, mom! Morning dad!"

Before she had time to hear her parents' response, Santana swiftly strapped her backpack on her shoulders, made her way to the door and found herself outside.

The run soothed her. Thump, thump. The regular sound of her footsteps grounded Santana. That couldn't quite keep her from thinking about Lucy, but the endorphins kicking in made for a satisfactory compensation.

She reached the high school twenty minutes before the start of classes.

Well. Somebody has improved. 

Still running, she headed to the locker room. 

She stripped of her clothing, leaving them as a pile on the floor, and turned on the shower.

The hot water on her skin wiped off the rest of her sleepiness. She began humming her favorite song - The Scientist. 

All of her favorite songs were sad. Guess why.

Ten minutes later, she was clean and fully dressed. Her hair was still wet from the shower, and Santana hastily pulled it into a ponytail.

She checked her schedule and headed to her classroom.

Unsurprisingly, five minutes before the first bell rang, there were only three people already in the class.

That meant Santana had the privilege of choosing her seat.

She settled on a desk by the window, and gazed at the yard, where students were moving about like ants, each trying to find their way through the now thick crowd.

Santana was stupidly looking for a sign of Lucy. As if she could spot her after all this time, through the crowd of her high school.

As a matter of fact, she probably could. Every feature of her former best friend was etched in Santana's mind.

But Lucy wasn't there. She had left for a reason. 

Stop lying to yourself. Lucy is not coming back. Move on. 

Eventually people started entering the classroom, distracting Santana from her thoughts. She knew them all. The football players, the cheerleaders, the nobodies.

They carefully avoided her, all the while nodding respectfully towards her.

Santana smirked. That was exactly what she deserved. 

Inspiring fear and dread.

She had personally made sure that nobody could get close to her. 

And she had never felt so lonely.