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LOSALINI
17/01/15 (written) (-_-)
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It's been one week, two days, seven hours and fifty two minutes since Daemon commented on my relationship with Jesse. Three days, two hours and seven minutes since he last smiled at me. And a record-breaking two minutes and two seconds since he last threw a disappointed frown aimed specifically me.
In comparison, it's been one week, one day and twelve hours since Jesse complimented me or said anything remotely nice when not in front of a live audience, the last being in his car that day. Three minutes since he placed a kiss on my cheek. And an unsurprising three seconds since he last placed a finger on me as he took a swig of his energy drink.
That last one was distasteful at best and made me feel the need to connect my fist with his nose, but then again, Daemon was watching, and he was the sole reason for this outrageous charade.
For the past week and a handful of days everything seemed calm. My relationship with Jesse was going along well publicly, whereas privately I was surprised that Jesse wasn't sporting a black eye or a decapacitated finger.
'Just for practice,' or 'What if someone sees?' were his excuses when he placed an arm on my shoulder whenever we were out in public. Sometimes he'd still keep the charade going even in front of Jenny, although it wasn't as bad as when we were around other people.
I'd volunteered the idea of us telling his twin and my friend the truth but he'd shut it down as soon as the words left my mouth.
"She's the gossip hotline, candy cane," he'd simply said.
The talk of our relationship had died down but not nonexistent. Half the female population still shot me a murderous glare when I walked down the hallway. If looks could kill, I'd be a massacered, unrecognizable meat bag, left rotting down the old well in Guver's Lane. The other half of the female population was still pining over my best friend, including me.
Daemon had changed girls faster then a girl changes tampon when she was on her period.
Gosh, why the hell did I just put Daemon and tampons in the same sentence?
A new airhead was currently occupying his lap, a smug smile on her face as if she was the lucky cat that got the last drop of the cream. The cream being Daemon Matthews, the guy who hadn't even talked to me about anything relating to his cryptic words the other day.
I felt Jesse's fingers bite into my skin, forcing me from my stare fest of the flirting gag session happenning across from me.
My face reddenned as I felt Jesse's face lean in and his hot breath fan across my face.
"Stop looking so damn envious, Marie!" He whispered harshly. My face reddened even more this time, though not in a good way.
"Stop imprinting my skin with your claws, asshole!" I snapped back, forcing a smile on my face for show.
"I will once you play your part properly, mistletoe," his eyes darkened to a glare momentarily before his sweet, alluring smile came back on. He leaned in even more, daring me to flinch back and give up our entire facade.
I held my ground, although I was ready to stomp on his feet and slap his face if he did more than a chaste kiss on the cheek.
"Marie..." His face was now a breath away and if one of us moved slightly I will have lost my first kiss. His eyes were on me the entire time, a green so dark it made the grass envious. A slight crease on his forehead as if he was unsure of what to do now. "I need you to stop looking like I'm the Devil."
Well, talk about a turn off!
Wait, was I expecting him to kiss me?
No, Santana! This is a lie! You are not kissing Jesse Arrogant Archer! Never!
"Santana!"
I turned my head slightly, stunned that Daemon and the entire cafeteria was watching us.
Did they notice the awkwardness between me and Jesse, a supposed couple?
"I think everyone would appreciate it if you and your... boyfriend don't suck face while we're enjoying lunch," Daemon glared at Jesse when he said that.
Answer to the previous question : No! Everyone was still as oblivious as a brick.
I blushed all hundred shades of red at his comment. He had spoken it loud enough for the entire cafeteria to hear.
"Sorry man," Jesse chuckled guiltily, "I just can't resist her!" He winked at me as he said the last sentence. "What would you do in my place, right?"
I froze at his question.
What would Daemon do if he was my boyfriend?
"That's a stupid question, Archer!" Daemon snapped. "And that won't ever happen!" He stood up roughly, the chair screeching at being pushed hastily. The bell rang.
He didn't even spare me a glance before he rushed out.
"No offense Santana honey," Jenny broke the silence that followed as the door slammed being Daemon, "but your best friend is an asshole that needs to learn some proper manners. A simple no would would have sufficed." She stood up, gathering her stuff. "Now, let's go. We got Gym!"
Despite my rather and slight nervousness over gym class, I had to admit that whatever Jenny had said was true.
Had my crush on Daemon really blinded me to his rudeness?
* * *
Gym clas was in one word : A Night-Mare!
Seriously, after my last four years of failing to show any potential athletically, you'd think Coach Hughes would have given up. But no, apparently according to him and I quote, 'Quitting is not in my dictionary!'
Well, apparently I will be needing to purchase him a new dictionary and specifically point out the term.
How can he be so stubborn?
I sucked at rock-climbing. I had a sprain during freshman when I tried.
I loathed badminton. What was the point of hitting something that had the c-word in it?
I couldn't run for my life. I ran one lap around our track and collapsed ten meters before I'd even finished it.
And I apparently attracted all balls to me during dodge ball.
I was a walking gym-hazard.
It was lucky that my metabolism was a marathon calorie burning machine or I'd be a little on the rotund side.
As soon as we got into class, Coach Hughes started dividing us into teams for basketball. I was split up with Jesse, whereas Jenny, Daemon and the other were in the other team.
"Don't fret, babe!" Jesse said encouragingly out loud, earning himself a few sighs. "We got this!"
Has he never ever heard of karma! Never ever say that.
"Don't pass me the ball, Jesse!" I warned him.
"Why not? This is basketball, Marie. We pass the ball and try to get it into the basket in order to win."
"Exactly. If you wanna win, don't pass me the ball!" I tried again, knowing for a fact my dribbling skills were criminally horrible.
"You can't be that bad!" He shook his head, determined to brush off my warnings.
"No, really Jesse! I am that bad!"
He just shook his head, chuckling unbelievingly as he called the rest of our teammates to come up with a plan.
I just shook my head. I'd warned him.
Sixty minutes later, I knew he believed me.
The whole game had gone horribly.
As soon as it had started, Mr I-Dont-Believe-You passed me the ball in order to prove him right and me wrong. Let's just say I had a small case of butter fingers because the ball slipped through my fingers and bounced towards Dave.
The other team scored a three pointer.
The second time he got the ball he passed it to me again. I gasped when he did. How stupid was he!
This time the ball didn't slip through but it did bounce high enough for Daemon to grab and shoot.
The fame went downhill from there. Heck! The game went downhill once the idiot decided to prove me wrong!
"How the hell can you be that bad?" He demanded as soon as Coach called time.
I shrugged. "I warned you, Archer!"
"I know you did. But I didn't expect you to be that bad!"
I shrugged again.
"I mean, come on. That was horrible, terrible, murder to the eyes and just plain criminal."
Okay, he was taking this too far! I did warn him. Besides, even though I accepted that I sucked, I still didn't like it.
"Some people just aren't athletically gifted, Jesse! Ask around. It's not that astounding," I snapped.
"Yeah," he smirked playfully. "Some people aren't as lucky as me."
"Hats off to you then, jerk face!" I started for the locker room to change.
"I mean, come on," he ran after me, following slowly. "I'm hot as hell! Got a good GPA. Incredibly well off, and athletically incredible. It should be a crime for me to exist."
Cocky much?
I pushed open the locker room and entered. "It is a crime, Jesse. No one should be tormented by your existence," I smiled sweetly before slamming the door shut on his face.
* * *
As soon as I entered the house, I knew something was going on.
It was too silent.
"Mom?" I called out cautiously. "Dad?"
Why did this look like a scene straight out of a murder movie?
"Anyone?"
Stupid idiot Santana? What do you expect? The thief slash murderr to say, 'Yes. Just your average psychopathic killer in need of a new victim!'
"Sweetheart, get dressed!" I jumped slightly when I heard mom scream out from their room.
"Dressed? I am dressed!" I replied, checking to see if I was dressed in anything other than my birthday suit. Check!
"No silly! For dinner!" She called back.
"Dinner? Are we eating out?" Now I was curious. Last time we ate out was months ago.
"Yes," she replied.
I waited for a name of the place. She didn't reply.
So I did the only same thing I knew to do. Ran to my room and rummaged through my wardrobe for an adequate dress.
I pulled out a floral red dress that reached my knees and some flats. After getting dressed, I braided my hair loosely before applying some light makeup.
"Santana!"
I heard mom call from downstairs.
"Nearly done," I called back, before pulling grabbing my purse and phone.
"You look lovely, sweetheart," dad said as I came down the staircase.
"Thanks dad," I kissed him on the cheek. "So where are we going for dinner?"
"The Matthews invited us over. Turns out Phil's making a steady recovery," mom answered.
I was both happy and sad with her answer.
Daddy Phil was getting better. Yay!
Dinner at the Matthews, with me and Daemon being like this. Shit!