The Hallway

Santana was about to shut her locker when someone crashed into her, sending them both crashing to the ground. She fell onto the ground, the other person on top of her. "Oh my gosh!" She screamed. "What the--" She cut herself off as she realized who it was that had fallen on top of her. She just stared up at him on top of her, at a loss for words. "Oh. It's you." She said staring at him as she just laid on the floor under him. She hadn't spoken to Mike since she slapped him across the face and told him he was a jerk, followed by him calling her a jerk. His words ringing in her head as she thought of it. Takes one to know one. She thought. She never really thought of herself as anything except honest and nice and hot, but then when people made comments about her being a jerk, or anything negative. They stuck in her head like glue and she never forgot them. She let out a shaky breath as she looked up at him. He had to be mad at her for slapping him, didn't he?

Wait what? That's all she had to say to him? Somehow he figured that they should be equally as mad at each other, but what physical harm had he caused her? Oh yeah, none. That simple fact was probably enough to keep him angry at her, but as he so ungracefully landed on top of her, his eyes softened considerably, betraying the furrow on his brows or the prominent pout in his lips. Mike mumbled a soft, "yeah, it's just me," as he stood. Then, after wiping his hands on his jeans, offered one to her (that she probably wouldn't take), to at least help her up. It was the polite thing to do. It wasn't as if he wanted an excuse to touch her or anything.

When he stood and offered her a hand she just stared at it for a moment, wondering if she should take it and let him help her up. She went with just standing up on her own. She stood and fixed her shirt and skirt so they weren't messed up in any way and bit her lip lightly as she looked at him. She quickly turned and looked at her locker as she realized she had nothing else to do in her locker and that all her books were in it. She closed it quickly and turned towards him, looking down at the floor in front of her. "How--How have you been?" She asked him quietly, not wanting to just ignore him and walk off. She had to say something to him and that was the first thing that popped into her mind.

His pride hurt more than his feelings, and he dropped his hand uselessly. He didn't watch her with probing eyes, as she fixed her clothing, instead opting to rub fervently at his wrist. Mike shrugged at her inquiry, then, when he looks up decided to speak his reply. After all, considering she was staring at a stupid spot on the floor, he doubted she could read his body language. "How have you been?" He asked instead, as he honestly had no answer for her. How has he been doing? Crappy. Hurt (due to the damned bruise on his face). Stupid... There were too many choices, although all of them fully defined his self-consciousness.

Santana looked up at him when he answered her question with a question. She decided it would be giving him just what he wanted if he told her how she had really been. She probably wanted her to be feeling crappy because if he didn't want her to feel that way then he never would have left her for her best friend. "I've actually been doing really good." She said nodding. "Spending lots of time with Brittany, working on stuff for Cheerios and Glee Club." She said and gave him a smile, hoping it didn't look as forced as it was. She couldn't help but let her eyes go straight to the side of his face, where it was obvious that there was a bruise slowly starting to show and she almost felt bad for leaving a mark. She may have meant to leave a mark when she did it but she didn't want him to have to go around telling people that a girl gave him a bruise on his face.

The whole, "spending lots of time with Brittany" thing was the most off-putting, but he couldn't help to release a small yawn at her words. Oops. Mike lifted tired eyes back to look at her. "Cool." He said lamely, staring at her in the best disinterested manner he could manage. He had been unable to distinguish her forced smile from a real one, but nowadays, the lines blurred together so much that is was hard to tell. He did know that she was saying all of this too make him jealous, though. It was petty and annoying and painful all at the same time, causing his emotions to wrestle in a dance for dominance. He settled on anger, jaw clenched to further emphasize the point his mentality had made. "Is that all then?" He looked around him, arms outstretched questioningly. "Can I leave now, or do you wanna talk about how much fun you're having since you slapped me in the face? Or maybe," he continued, arms falling as he shrugged and glanced back at her. "You wanna go ahead and slap me some more for good measure, or have sex with someone else because you didn't get it from me, or break another one of my great grandma's lamps, or complain about our date, y'know, the one you actually liked?"

"Please," he said. In an instant, he relived the few moments he had cursed. "Pick your fucking poison, Cheerio."

Santana's eyes widened a bit when he asked if that was all. "Um. Well I guess." She said and then got quiet as he continued to talk. She stepped back away from him as he seemed to be a little angry, her back hitting the locker, causing her to jump slightly as she realized she couldn't just back away from him anymore. "Mike.." She said staring at him. "You're being ridiculous." She said, her face very calm. Not looking angry, or happy, or anything really. Mostly just emotionless. "Look, I guess I'm sorry if I hurt your face or whatever." She said with a small shrug. "I didn't know it would actually leave a mark." She said, even though at the time she did hope it would leave a mark. "And don't act like you weren't at Brittany's for the same exact reason I went there." She said placing her hands on her hips. "Because I know you went to Brittany's house just to have sex with her." She said, probably saying it a bit too loud. "Otherwise you wouldn't have been on top of her when I got there." She said with a small shrug. "And I didn't mean to break a lamp. It was an accident and to be honest I didn't know I broke anything until just now." That was partially a lie. She did mean to knock it over but she didn't know that it had broken. "And also, I never did say I liked the date." She said honestly and stared at him. She never did say she liked the date. She did like it but she was pretty sure she never said it to him.

[WOAH MIKE o.O]

Obscenities plagued his mind, causing him to rub his temples and huff out a rough sigh. "Honest to whatever-the-hell-God there is," he started, opening strained eyes to stare at her. Why the he'll was she backed up into a locker? It wasn't as if he pushed her there, he was still in his same spot since he stood up. "I don't care that you slapped me, what I do care about, is that you did t after all the crap that happened. I tell you I like you, you say nothing except saying you have nothing to say, then you slap me for kissing Brittany." He scoffed lightly, running a hand through his hair. "I can't tell if you're jealous, or if you just hate me." For a moment he ignored the comment about Brittany, holding his tongue for the slightest minute. Her posture was familiar, but he only recognized it as a teasing action, not a spiteful one. "You said it sucked, if I recall correctly, and that it was terrible." In his world, that usually meant she disliked it.

"And wait, why the hell would I leave you, in my bed, in the comfort of my own bed, for my friend Brittany? I didn't want sex, I wanted to talk because I felt like an asshole for what I've done to Tina. We talked. Talked. She gave me advice, and it turned into her advances getting to me, so we kissed. Then you slapped me and had sex with her." Awkwardly, he scratched at his ear. "Sounds fair."

[LOL IT HAD TO HAPPEN SOME TIME.]

Santana wished that the locker wasn't behind her so she could just slowly back up and then turn around and run off. "I didn't slap you for kissing Brittany." She said looking up at him. "I slapped you because you left me sitting at your house alone so you could go to Brittany's which was a real dick move." She didn't make a comment on if she was jealous or if she hated him because she honestly had no idea right now which it was. "I did't know why you left me!" She said staring at him. "If you wanted to talk rather than have sex than why did you even ask me to kiss you? Why did you agree to go back to your house? You could have just said let's stay here and talk but you didn't." She said, quite loudly so if anyone else was in the hall they would definitely hear her.She stepped closer to him, getting all up in his personal bubble as she glared up at him. "And how do you know I had sex with Brittany?!" She asked angrily. "Maybe we just talked after you left! Brittany and I do have moments when we just talk we don't always have sex!" She said angrily. She didn't like it when people said her and Brittany had sex all the time because sure, they liked to have sex, but their relationship didn't revolve around it.

Unbeknownst to the girl in front of him, he would've liked to do the exact same thing. "Santana," he started, her name sounding awkward on his tongue, other than the actual nickname he always used. "You're full of dick moves! If my move was a dick move, then you're just a dick!" He shook his head afterward, realizing that was definitely not the best choice of words. "I can't even talk around you, you know what you do to me. How the hell would you expect me to stop kissing you and have a lovely chat, when all you seem to want to do is makeout?" Mike licked his suddenly dry lips, rubbing his neck stupidly. "I wanted to go back because I like you, you idiot! Haven't we gone over this?" He grumbled.

Her loud tone put him off, and he winced, backing up in the slightest. "Fine," he said quietly. "What'd you do with Brittany then? Did you gossip about boys and unicorns and fucking fairy dust?"

Santana's eyes widened when he said she was full of dick moves and when he called her a dick her breath caugh slightly and she looked away from him. Just hearing him call her that hurt her immensely. She kept her gaze away from him as he talked, looking at the floor in between them. She didn't hear any of the words that he was saying because the only thing going through her head was his one sentence. "then you're just a dick!" She continued to look down at the floor and when he stopped talking she realized she should probably say something but she had no idea what he had been saying to her so she had absolutely nothing to say. Before she knew it her mouth opened and she was asking him, "Am I really that mean?" She asked him quietly. She didn't want to say it but it just sort of happened.

The silence was disgustingly palpable, and he figured for a moment that he had won this verbal match of aggression and wit, but as he looked up, he only stared at a sad-looking girl. He couldn't talk. This wasn't the Santana so full of bite that he (and all of McKinley) had become accustomed too. Instinctively, his arms sought to close the precarious distance between them, but he doubted she even liked him at the moment, much less want him to touch her. Instead, he grasped his own arms in a defensive state. "No," he felt himself whisper. "You're really not." Mike swallowed, looking down at the minuscule patch of floor between them. "Because I've seen you, no matter how brief. And I know the real you."

Santana continued to look at the ground, his words ringing in her ears about how she was a dick. Even if he said she wasn't afterwards the words still repeated over and over again in her head. "What are you talking about?" She asked him, forcing herself to look up at him. "This is the real me. You think I'm different when I am around just you?" She asked him, raising an eyebrow at him. She refused to believe that she could be seen any differently than the head bitch in charge. "You're just starting to get cocky now." She mumbled quietly.

Well way to ruin the fucking moment. He breathed roughly out of his nose, shaking his head at her. "Nope." He murmured noncomittally. He wished to say she was in fact, a bitch no matter who she was with, but he couldn't. He couldn't because it wasn't true, and as embarrassed as he had made Santana right now, he didn't wish to follow it up with a clashing lie. "I'm just cocky. I don't see you any differently than anyone else. I'm just cocky. That's me, cocky Mike Chang, thinking he understands girls in the slightest! How funny, right?" He said, a forced smile on his lips. He raised his arms and shrugged with great exasperation. Then, he turned swiftly on his heel, taking a couple steps before turning once more and walking backwards. "I'm just gonna go home and think about how silly I am!" God sometimes he hated girls.

Santana looked up at him at his words and let out a sigh. "Mike." She said quietly as he walked away. "Stop." She said stepping over to him as she grasped his hand in hers to stop him from leaving. She felt this weird feeling shoot through her as their hands touched and she let go of his hand, hoping he wouldn't leave. "Look. I'm sorry if my comment like offended you or something. Okay?" She asked staring up at him. "I just, in my eyes I don't act different around people. I'm the same person all the time. Sure I may seem different when you see me cheering and compare it to when your on top of me sucking my face." She said probably a bit too loud but she didn't really care how loud she said it or if anyone heard. "But still that doesn't make me a different person." She said bluntly. "Just because I'm willing to have sex with you doesn't mean I'm going to be all mushy and open up to you. I'm still the same person around you as I am everyone else. Okay?" She asked him as she stepped towards him. "You're not that special." She said glaring at him. She was angry at him for how he was taking everything she was saying and making her sound like a total bitch. Even if she was being a bit of a bitch she didn't exactly care. "Now please move so I can go to Cheerios practice." She said standing very close to him as she waited for him to move so she could walk down the hallway without pushing other people out of the way.

The familiar burst of fire on his palm left him aching, and he gripped her hand in a dazed response, hoping with great vigor, that she wouldn't release. But alas... Mike turned around, blushing as he witnessed the silhouette of a person staring at him questionably, one who had probably stopped for water or something. But hey, Santana had just spoken (quite loudly), about sucking face. "That's the thing," he murmured lamely. "I don't wanna have sex with you. Well- I don't wanna JUST have sex with you. I actually like you, and I kinda wish you'd realize." And at that, he moved to the side, opening the door with an outstretched arm.

Santana's eyes widened slightly as he said he didn't want to have sex with her. That was something she had definitely never heard before in her life. "I've realized." She said staring at him. "You've told me quite a few times already and I don't know if you just haven't noticed or not but I'm not interesting in being liked by a guy who is so mother fucking sweet at times I just want to kiss him until my lips go numb and then other times he's a downright jerk and he makes me want to punch him in the face." She said sharply. That wasn't completely true. He had told her he liked her before she thought of him as a jerk but she wouldn't let herself believe that. She glared at him before stepping past him and turning to look at him. "You know what Mike. Don't talk to me. Okay? Don't text me. Call me. Stop by my house. Or even talk to me at all. Because quite frankly, talking to you at all, in any way, well, it's exhausting." She said and turned around quickly and stormed off to go to Cheerios practice.

He couldn't help it, he told himself, as he smiled dazedly at her words. There was the undeniably cursing fact that she had just told him not to talk to her, or text her or stop by somewhere and blah blah blah. He stopped listening after her first two sentences, and now spent time tuning in and out lamely. He did realize, however, that she said nothing about singing. Mike was still quite stuck on the, "kiss until my lips are numb" thing, but after she had finished talking, he snickered lightly. "That sounds familiar." He mumbled, speaking of the, "don't talk to me thing." The fact that when he said it, it hadn't worked as well either, only fueled his romantic intent. He gave a weak wave, before walking in the other direction home.

Another day of semi-boring education, and cold slushie tossing. “That was a good one,” one of the football players of the small group bypassing Andie said. She stood at her locker, changing out her books before lunch, and glanced back to see a girl covered in purple slush take off in the opposite direction. She could only imagine the way that girl felt and how annoying it must have been to try to clean up. With a small sigh, Andie shifted her attention back to the notebook in her hand. She was still kind of new to William McKinley and should have been a target for a slushie facial, but somehow she’d managed to avoid one; probably had something to do with one of the main slusie-ers being her best friend.

The last bell rang and the hallway began to clear quickly. Kids either rushed off to class or to the cafeteria, but Andie lingered by her locker a little bit longer, like she always did. After all, the cafeteria wasn’t going anywhere.

Quinn closed her locker after changing the books that she would need for the second half of the day and grabbing the salad she had brought from home. Glancing around the hallway, she didn't see Sam anywhere and sighed, realizing he was probably with the football players. She wasn't going to wait for him though, for the last thing she wanted was to run into someone she was trying to avoid while waiting.

Walking down the hallway once she heard the bell ring, she began to head towards the cafeteria but paused when she spotted someone else in the hallway. She recognized the girl who had recently joined the Cheerios, yet she couldn't place the name to save her life. "You're on the Cheerios, right?" she asked, stopping in front of Andie. "I don't think we've really officially met. But, I'm Quinn," she said, offering her a smile.

Andie eyed the captain of their cheerleading squad curiously. The girl was Quinn Fabray and she’d done well to intimidate Andie during the cheerleading tryouts. The strange thing was that Quinn hadn’t even really said anything directly to her during that time. It was just the way the captain looked so well put together and slightly arrogant (or maybe just comfortably confident) that had made Andie push to do her best to impress the girl. As a result, her efforts had worked, because she’d made the squad. However, she wasn’t exactly sure how the voting panel cast their votes either.

Plus, she’d heard whispers here and there about most of the other cheerleaders, but hearsay was hardly a reliable source of information. “I am on the Cheerios, yes.” Andie said, letting a smile curve her lips. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Quinn. I’m Andie.” The curly haired blond shut her locker and turned to face Quinn completely. “So, tell me Quinn, is the food here worth eating, or should I ditch out and go down the street for something more edible?”

[I'm so sorry! I really wasn't feeling good last night and ended up just staring at the screen. I figured waiting until I was better was for the best XD]

Quinn wasn't sure why she hadn't made more of an effort to get to know Andie. As captain of the Cheerios, she really should have tried to act a bit nicer to new members, but for some reason she had difficulty in letting up her 'Head Bitch In Charge' title sometimes. Especially after she worked so hard to get the title back. Now that Andie was officially on the Cheerios though, she figured making a small effort would be a bit welcoming of her.

She considered Andie's question carefully for a moment before replying, "Well, the only good thing about the school cafeteria would be the tots. You should hear the other students go on and on about them," she said with a small smile. "Though, if Coach Sylvester catches you eating them, well...it won't be good. She's quite adamant about sticking to a particular diet and us Cheerios keeping our figures in top shape."

“Mm…hmm.” Andie said slowly, pondering the thought of snapping down a few tots just because Coach Sylvester would have hated it. Problem with authority? Not exactly. Andie’s dad was a military man after all. She couldn’t rebel well enough to save her life against the United States military. Now, problem with people telling her what to eat? Yeah, she had a bit of a problem with that, and it was because of a babysitter she had when she was younger. For the longest time, Andie was fed only fruits and vegetables; and some unrecognizable substance she learned was Tofu. And, while she probably should have turned out a vegetarian or vegan, she’d discovered on her own what kind of foods she’d been missing out on. So, that was why she preferred to eat what she wanted, when she wanted. Otherwise, what was the point?

But, she wouldn’t say that to Quinn. The girl was just trying to give her a heads up; trying to save her ass already. “Alright, well, I guess I’ll skip over these supposedly wonderful tots McKinley’s got and see if there’s a fruit or vegetable plate, huh? Are we allowed to leave the cafeteria during lunch? I’m asking because at my old school once you were in, you weren’t allowed out without a pass from a teacher, and that kind of cramps my style.” She paused. “Of course…my school was a lot more…ghetto than this one, I guess you could say.”

[No worries. I'm glad you're feeling better. ]

She couldn't help but smile softly when Andie took her advice. Someone that knew to follow Coach Sylvester's requirements for being a Cheerio was definitely on the right path. She remembered what happened to the last girl who had eaten a single tot. As soon as Coach Sylvester had found out about it, the girl had been immediately kicked off the Cheerios. The last thing Quinn wanted was for their new member to meet the same demise.

"Well, McKinley is the same then as your old school," she said with a small shrug. "Though of course, that hasn't really stopped anyone from leaving. I know lots of people end up leaving for lunch and there really isn't anyone supervising and keeping us in the cafeteria. The chances of getting caught are pretty slim and they'd probably let you go with only a warning if they do catch you. Where did you go to school before coming here?" she asked curiously.