10 Reasons Why I Hate Santana Lopez

Reason 2

She tried to become my friend in first grade, and what's worse is she succeeded. But I would only call her successful if she thinks that our weird relationship is friendship and if threats are acceptable ways to start them.

Santana Lopez walked to me one day in the middle of the first quarter of first grade with a look of determination engraved on her face. I knew she was bound to do something because she hadn't thrown a single crayon at me since the school year started.

"Hey Girly Boy!" she said. I was unsure if she knew my name or if she refused to call me it, but Girly Boy was what she called me. I'm confident that she wasn't trying to be mean, although she did throw crayons at my head for a year, but even then she was just protecting her heart.

"What?" I asked, looking around the classroom for the closest exit.

She stood directly in front of me, placing her hands on her hips in a true Santana Lopez fashion, "I'm done throwing crayons at you. I don't think you'll break my heart anymore."

I chuckled nervously, unsure of how to respond. I smiled a little, "Is that it?"

"No," she threw her hair out of her face: it had grown longer since we had first met and was now down to her waist. "I want you to be my friend," she continued, "but if you won't be my friend I'll throw a box of crayons at your head every day until you die."

I quickly nodded my head in reply. And then she did something I'd never seen her do before because I was always too afraid to look at her. Santana Lopez smiled at me for the first time. Of course, I'd seen her countless times over our kindergarten year, but not once did I ever see her smile. She was always scowling, and she was scowling at me. But the first time she smiled at me was incredible.

Not that I liked it. It wasn't like a beautiful smile where the sun magically brightened, and she looked like an angel. It was the toothy grin of a six-year-old girl missing one of her front teeth. I probably just thought it was incredible because I had never seen her smile, an occurrence akin to catching one of the English Royal Guard zipping his fly. Her face had always struck fear into my heart, but her smiling face wasn't that bad. When she smiled, she looked more like a girl and less like the demon spawn of Satan.

If I hadn't said yes to becoming her friend I'm pretty sure I would have never seen her smile. I'm also pretty sure that she would have held true to her promise and thrown crayon boxes at my head for the rest of my life.