An unofficial field trip with the entire Glee Club was the last thing Santana wanted to be doing during her summer vacation. She had grumbled, groaned and cursed about how she lame it would be to spend a whole week with those losers but Brittany had pouted with that sad little look in her baby blues and that was all it took for Santana to reluctantly agree. So here she was, in her sexiest black bikini and dark sunglasses, laid out on a beach towel to get her tanning on as she did her best to distance herself from the rest of the Glee Club "family." Sure she was annoyed but there was no reason why she couldn't look hot while being annoyed.
It was ostensibly supposed to be an educational field trip but it was turning into chaos because everyone was in full party mode. Schue was peak corny dad the whole time, settling arguments between the teens as he kept going on about how this was the birthplace of this and that band from decades ago.
Santana was ready to kill the next nerd who launched into an impromptu Beach Boys medley. She suspected the only reason Mr. Schue wanted to go on this trip to LA was to snag some hotel room time with Pillsbury but whatever. She didn't even want to think about whatever those two weirdos got up to. Horrifying.
It hadn't taken long for the Glee kids to slip away from their hotel rooms, insisting to their chaperones that they deserved a beach day to do nothing, after spending so much time practicing songs and visiting "important music landmarks."
Santana felt smug. She and Britt were obviously the hottest girls on the entire beach. Yes, Santana thought, this is the life. This was where she belonged, with the rich and famous, somewhere hot where she could show off her gorgeous body, be admired by all and never go back to boring Lima again.
It was difficult to focus on LA and how hot she looked when all she could think about was a certain blonde. Brittany strolled across the sands in a tiny light blue bikini that left practically nothing to the imagination, heading in Santana's direction and the dark-haired girl bit her lip, forgetting how to breathe. The blonde didn't seem to notice heads turn and jaws drop as she made her way over, every male on the beach making no effort to hide that they were checking her out.
Santana, however, did notice their leering and barely resisted the urge to throw a volleyball at Artie Abrams' head as he gawked at the blonde for way too long.
"San, can we go swimming now? It's really hot." Brittany pleaded, shifting over to lay on the towel beside Santana's. Over on the other side of the beach Santana could see Finn Hudson still wearing a t-shirt to cover his fleshy torso and sitting under an umbrella while Berry fussed over him, applying what was probably SPF 100 to his inhumanly pasty, pale skin. Santana scoffed at the sight of the two nerds.
Sam, Puck and Mike were playing a heated game of volleyball while Mercedes, Quinn and Tina sat around huddled together, no doubt sharing some juicy gossip.
It was difficult to figure out where she stood with Brittany.
Sure, they had done everything together that summer, including stargazing because Britt had a thing about stars, dinner every Friday night at Breadstix (Santana volunteered to pay most of the time because it felt... chivalrous somehow, for Brittany), drive-in nights with just the two of them in Santana's messy car, a few candlelight dinners prepared by Britt and even a trip to the local carnival where Santana had struggled to win Brittany the giant cat plushie she was eyeing, earning her a kiss on the cheek from the blonde (she had threatened the stall owner at the strongman game into letting her win because it was obviously rigged)...
But were they dating ? She wasn't sure.
Santana gulped, her eyes raking over Brittany's pale, perfect form. She made a valiant effort to disguise her staring and not stammer as she answered her.
