Flashback: Shut Up And Drive
Who: Santana Lopez and Emma Rodriguez
When: Spring, 2012
Where: On the streets of Lima, the Lopez residence
What: A broken down car and dinner
Emma’s gaze had shifted to the window as she listened to her sister go on and on about some guy or another. She let out a sigh fighting the urge to roll her eyes and uttered a non-committal “Mhmm” as she watched the street signs flicker by. The same streets and the same houses and the same cracks in the side walk that she’d seen almost everyday of her life. It was the sudden change from monotonous greens and browns to a flash of red that caught her eye and jerked her out of her sister induced stupor. She turned her head looking out the rear window hesitating for a few more moments before asking her sister to stop the car.
She hopped out of the car jogging lightly over to the girl she’d seen walking, “Hey...” she looked around for a moment then back at the girl, “Do you need a ride?”
Santana looked at the girl in front of her, eyeing her disdainfully and crossing her arms over her chest. She shrugged. “Do I know you?”
Emma shook her head. “You don’t know me. I’m Emma Rodriguez. We do go to the same school though. We don’t know each other, but I’m pretty sure I do know that you need a ride.”
“I already called for a ride,” Santana said defensively. Her fist clenched around her cellphone, which had been silent since her car broke down twenty minutes ago. “I’m just waiting...”
“Uh huh...except it kind of seems like you started to walk home Which is why you’re away from your car...where most people wait for their ride after something happens to their car.” Emma turned her head as her sister honked then looked back to Santana. “Look, I know you’re tired. I’m guessing you just got out of practice and Sue Sylvester is kind of psycho. I’m not going to...” She paused, thinking of the worst thing she could do, “tell anyone at school you spoke to me..so, do you need a ride?”
Santana frowned and looked back at the car the other girl - Emma Rodriguez - had come from, seeing an impatient older girl behind the wheel. She wasn’t lying. She’d called Brittany for a ride, but her girlfriend was at the dentists and her parents we both at work. And since she didn’t have her Triple AAA card in her wallet, the tow would cost her all the money she saved up for Brittany’s birthday present. Besides, she thought to herself, If the kid promised not to tell anyone...
“Fine,” she huffed. “I need a ride. Let’s not make a production of this.”
Emma laughed lightly, shaking her head as she turned and headed back toward the car. “Is that Cheerio for thank you?” She asked over her shoulder. She didn’t wait for the other girl to reply, opening the passenger door leaning in to explain to her sister what was going on. Claire nodded, taking the car out of park.
“Just tell my sister where she needs to turn.” Emma said as she slid into the passenger seat, shutting the door behind her.
Santana hummed, staring out the window as they drove, listening to the quiet talking the two girls were doing in the front. She checked her watch and realized her mother would be home by now, and she’d probably get an earful about the car. “Take the next left,” she instructed quietly.
Emma looked at Santana in the rear-view mirror, looking over at her sister to make sure she heard her. She kept her eyes on the road ahead as she spoke, “So...I’m hoping you got everything you needed out of the car?”
Santana bit back an angry, automatic retort and nodded slowly instead. “Just needed my bag and my cellphone,” she said, patting the duffel at her side. “Thanks,” she added, as an after-thought.
After her sister had taken the left Emma turned, looking back at Santana. “Is this your neighborhood?”
Santana nodded. “At the end of this street, take a right. I’m the third house on the left.”
After her sister had pulled to a stop in front of the house, Emma got out, ignoring her sister’s irritated exhale, leaning against the car door as she waited for Santana to get out too. Emma pushed off the car door, stepping onto the side walk, looking through the car widow at her sister. “Wait, okay?” She rolled her eyes at her sister’s non-committal response. She looked to Santana as she got out. “Sorry about her.” She raised her voice so that sister could hear. “She just wants to get home to call some guy who isn’t going to call her back.”
“Well, thanks for the ride,” Santana said over her shoulder dismissively, stopping and frowning when she realized the younger girl was following her. “Uh, did you want me to give you gas money, or...”
“Oh no...” Emma said shaking her head “sorry”. She was about to turn back to the car when Santana’s front door opened and a woman, who Emma could only assume was Santana’s mom, stepped out. What followed was a few minutes of rapid Spanish, Santana’s mother fussing over her, giving Emma a hug and ended with Emma having an invitation for dinner. “Uh...” Emma paused, her own mother’s voice in her head prompting her to be polite “Sure” she replied glancing at Santana out of the corner of her eye offering an almost apologetic shrug.
Santana sighed as Emma said goodbye to her sister and pulled her phone out of her pocket, typing a text message out to Brittany, telling her not to come over after her appointments; she’d call her when she was free from this sudden prison she found herself in.
“Mami,” she whispered as Emma slid her shoes off and busied herself with placing her coat on the coat rack. “I don’t even know this girl.”
Her mother glared at her as they moved down the hall towards the kitchen. “Would it kill you to have more friends, mija?”
“I have friends.”
“Besides Brittany and Quinn,” her mother added with a knowing look. “She stays. She looks like your cousin Lucia, no?”
Santana rolled her eyes and took a spoon out of the drawer, stirring the sauce on the stove. She waved at the kitchen table as her mother went in search of her father. “Take a seat, or something. What did you say your name was again?”
Emma took a seat, looking around the kitchen, noting it’s similarities to her own. “Emma” she replied as she stood, walking around the table to the stove looking down at the pot. “What’s for dinner, Santana? You know, they say if you repeat the persons name after they tell to you it’ll help you remember.”
Santana rolled her eyes, again and peered down into the saucepan. “Chili. We’re having chili,” she said, intentionally leaving out Emma’s name.
Emma turned, leaning back against the stove and crossed one ankle over the other. “This certainly wasn’t how I expected to spend my evening. And I’m pretty sure it wasn’t how you expected to be spending yours. But I will say you’re a lot nicer than I thought you would be. I’ll be the first to admit that in the halls of McKinley you are certainly intimidating. I’m just curious, does it start to feel like a chore though being head bitch?”
“Does it feel like a chore being this goddamn annoying?”
Her mother came up behind her and swatted her firmly in the back of the head. “Be nice,” her mother warned, smiling at Emma. “You’ll have to excuse my daughter,” she continued. “We don’t have company often.”
“Brittany...”
“Doesn’t count,” her mother repeated, cutting her off. “She’s family.”
Santana blushed a little, turning back to the chili. “Well, whatever. No, Emma,” she stressed. “Being a head bitch isn’t tiring. It’s rewarding.” She ignored her mother’s obnoxious snort and continued. “I’m in charge of something. Plus, I’m good at what I do. What’s chore-ish about it?”
“Just like..” Emma shrugged. “Aren’t there days you wish you could just walk down the hall? Just walk. Without having to worry about whether or not that freshman is appropriately cowering in the corner.”
Santana reached for a bowl out of the cabinet. “No,” she said firmly. “That’s what the rest of your life is for.” She studied Emma for a moment. “You’re what? A sophomore?”
Emma nodded brushing a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “Yeah. I’m a sophomore.”
Santana nodded and passed Emma a bowl of chili, pointing to a drawer by the sinks where the spoons and forks were. “No matter what anyone tells you, high school is the most important four years of your life. They define the person you’re capable of being for the rest of your life. If I have to spend every day of high school making sure at least one person cries, I’ll do it. I’ll do it for four years so that for the rest of my life, I don’t have to worry about people getting in my way.” She shrugged. “They’ll know to move on their own.”
Her mother clucked her tongue, but Santana rolled her eyes. “You know it’s true, Mami. When I graduate, I won’t have to check to make sure people are ‘following rules’. They’ll do it without being asked to.”
“You do realize this is Lima, Ohio, Population: No One Cares. And the people who you’re making cry everyday are probably just as upset over..I dunno..the fact that the mall, if you can call it that, doesn’t have that one purple shirt that everyone else is wearing. ” Emma gave an apologetic look to Santana’s mother before looking back across the table to Santana. “To me, it just makes more sense...I’m being somewhat hypocritical. I’m not a paragon of friendship. It seems like almost every person in this town is content to be put in this...box. You and I want to get out. I can respect that. I just don’t think you need to be mean to everyone to get where you want in life.”
Emma stirred her chili for a moment. “But I could be wrong. In a few years, I could be reading about you in some newspaper wishing I’d joined the Cheerios and let people toss me around in the air while Brittany danced around like sex on legs.” Emma quickly corrected herself after a quick look from Santana’s mom, “I mean....gracefully. Graceful..dancing.”
Santana was glad her mother gave Emma a look before she could. Brittany is sex on legs, she thought. But she’s my sex on legs. “In a few years, this box you’re talking about? It won’t exist. I’m gonna blow the fucking top off of it. Sorry, Mami. You might think Cheerios is just tossing and dancing. It’s not. It’s work. What do you do that requires complete focus and precision three hours a day? Everyone thinks we’re airheads or that it’s just cheerleading. It’s not. It’s my ride, it’s Brittany’s ride, out of this town.”
She took a bite of her chili, ignoring the after-burn sensation it left on the roof of her mouth. This stupid sophomore, coming into her house, eating her food, judging her? Bull. Shit.
“Okay, Santana, okay. I wasn’t trying...” Emma shook her head and took a few bites of her chili. “So what do you want to do when you get out?” She finally asked.
“Kick ass. Take names.” She shrugged. “The usual.”
Emma laughed lightly, “Good plan. I like it. Considering you and I both know you’re pretty good at both of those things.”
Santana looked at her mother and sighed heavily when her mother not-so-subtly nodded in Emma’s direction. “What are you going to do when you graduate?” She asked reluctantly.
“Oh..um...” Emma hesitated, surprised that Santana had asked her, “I’ve recently gotten into photography. But not like...yearbook stuff. I mean that’s nice too, but, I don’t know.” She shrugged just having begun to put the pieces together herself. “I figure photographers get to travel the world. I’ll see a lot of places, meet different people not have everyone on the block know my name and life story. I really see no downside.”
“Sounds... better than working at the Shop-N-Save,” Santana said. “I guess it’s kind of cool, too.”
Emma smiled, looking down at her bowl of chili as she stirred its contents. “What’s this” she teased gently “the Santana Lopez giving me a compliment. I’m not worthy.”
“No, you’re not,” Santana admitted, shrugging. “But there you go. You can have it. Save it for a rainy day and take it out to admire it.” She impatiently checked her watch. “Listen, not to be a buzzkill on all this fun we’re having, but I told Britt I’d study with her for the math test tomorrow.”
Her mother quirked an eyebrow. “And you’re going to study in the living room, right, mi’ja? Not in your room where I know you never actually study?”
Santana smirked proudly. “I will neither confirm nor deny what you’re accusing me of.”
Emma laughed lightly, ducking her head to hide her smile, taking a bite of her chili as mother and daughter bantered. “Mrs. Lopez” she carefully interjected as the woman was about to start in on,what she was sure, would be large, long, and rapid rant. “Thank you for having me over. The food was delicious but Santana is right. I need.... to find my way home since I’m sure my sister has left by now.”
Santana could see the look in her mother’s eyes, and she sighed again. Really, this was just getting out of hand. “Where do you live?” she asked the younger girl.
“By the dinner.” Emma replied handing her empty bowl to Santana’s mother as she passed. She offered a quiet,“gracias” before turning her attention back to Santana, “a few streets over.”
“Well, come on, then,” Santana huffed. “I’ll drop you off. Britt lives that way anyway.” She grabbed her mother’s car keys and her jacket, motioning to Emma to move faster. “See ya, Mami,” she shouted as she hurried out the door, Emma trailing behind her.
When: Spring, 2012
Where: On the streets of Lima, the Lopez residence
What: A broken down car and dinner
Emma’s gaze had shifted to the window as she listened to her sister go on and on about some guy or another. She let out a sigh fighting the urge to roll her eyes and uttered a non-committal “Mhmm” as she watched the street signs flicker by. The same streets and the same houses and the same cracks in the side walk that she’d seen almost everyday of her life. It was the sudden change from monotonous greens and browns to a flash of red that caught her eye and jerked her out of her sister induced stupor. She turned her head looking out the rear window hesitating for a few more moments before asking her sister to stop the car.
She hopped out of the car jogging lightly over to the girl she’d seen walking, “Hey...” she looked around for a moment then back at the girl, “Do you need a ride?”
Santana looked at the girl in front of her, eyeing her disdainfully and crossing her arms over her chest. She shrugged. “Do I know you?”
Emma shook her head. “You don’t know me. I’m Emma Rodriguez. We do go to the same school though. We don’t know each other, but I’m pretty sure I do know that you need a ride.”
“I already called for a ride,” Santana said defensively. Her fist clenched around her cellphone, which had been silent since her car broke down twenty minutes ago. “I’m just waiting...”
“Uh huh...except it kind of seems like you started to walk home Which is why you’re away from your car...where most people wait for their ride after something happens to their car.” Emma turned her head as her sister honked then looked back to Santana. “Look, I know you’re tired. I’m guessing you just got out of practice and Sue Sylvester is kind of psycho. I’m not going to...” She paused, thinking of the worst thing she could do, “tell anyone at school you spoke to me..so, do you need a ride?”
Santana frowned and looked back at the car the other girl - Emma Rodriguez - had come from, seeing an impatient older girl behind the wheel. She wasn’t lying. She’d called Brittany for a ride, but her girlfriend was at the dentists and her parents we both at work. And since she didn’t have her Triple AAA card in her wallet, the tow would cost her all the money she saved up for Brittany’s birthday present. Besides, she thought to herself, If the kid promised not to tell anyone...
“Fine,” she huffed. “I need a ride. Let’s not make a production of this.”
Emma laughed lightly, shaking her head as she turned and headed back toward the car. “Is that Cheerio for thank you?” She asked over her shoulder. She didn’t wait for the other girl to reply, opening the passenger door leaning in to explain to her sister what was going on. Claire nodded, taking the car out of park.
“Just tell my sister where she needs to turn.” Emma said as she slid into the passenger seat, shutting the door behind her.
Santana hummed, staring out the window as they drove, listening to the quiet talking the two girls were doing in the front. She checked her watch and realized her mother would be home by now, and she’d probably get an earful about the car. “Take the next left,” she instructed quietly.
Emma looked at Santana in the rear-view mirror, looking over at her sister to make sure she heard her. She kept her eyes on the road ahead as she spoke, “So...I’m hoping you got everything you needed out of the car?”
Santana bit back an angry, automatic retort and nodded slowly instead. “Just needed my bag and my cellphone,” she said, patting the duffel at her side. “Thanks,” she added, as an after-thought.
After her sister had taken the left Emma turned, looking back at Santana. “Is this your neighborhood?”
Santana nodded. “At the end of this street, take a right. I’m the third house on the left.”
After her sister had pulled to a stop in front of the house, Emma got out, ignoring her sister’s irritated exhale, leaning against the car door as she waited for Santana to get out too. Emma pushed off the car door, stepping onto the side walk, looking through the car widow at her sister. “Wait, okay?” She rolled her eyes at her sister’s non-committal response. She looked to Santana as she got out. “Sorry about her.” She raised her voice so that sister could hear. “She just wants to get home to call some guy who isn’t going to call her back.”
“Well, thanks for the ride,” Santana said over her shoulder dismissively, stopping and frowning when she realized the younger girl was following her. “Uh, did you want me to give you gas money, or...”
“Oh no...” Emma said shaking her head “sorry”. She was about to turn back to the car when Santana’s front door opened and a woman, who Emma could only assume was Santana’s mom, stepped out. What followed was a few minutes of rapid Spanish, Santana’s mother fussing over her, giving Emma a hug and ended with Emma having an invitation for dinner. “Uh...” Emma paused, her own mother’s voice in her head prompting her to be polite “Sure” she replied glancing at Santana out of the corner of her eye offering an almost apologetic shrug.
Santana sighed as Emma said goodbye to her sister and pulled her phone out of her pocket, typing a text message out to Brittany, telling her not to come over after her appointments; she’d call her when she was free from this sudden prison she found herself in.
“Mami,” she whispered as Emma slid her shoes off and busied herself with placing her coat on the coat rack. “I don’t even know this girl.”
Her mother glared at her as they moved down the hall towards the kitchen. “Would it kill you to have more friends, mija?”
“I have friends.”
“Besides Brittany and Quinn,” her mother added with a knowing look. “She stays. She looks like your cousin Lucia, no?”
Santana rolled her eyes and took a spoon out of the drawer, stirring the sauce on the stove. She waved at the kitchen table as her mother went in search of her father. “Take a seat, or something. What did you say your name was again?”
Emma took a seat, looking around the kitchen, noting it’s similarities to her own. “Emma” she replied as she stood, walking around the table to the stove looking down at the pot. “What’s for dinner, Santana? You know, they say if you repeat the persons name after they tell to you it’ll help you remember.”
Santana rolled her eyes, again and peered down into the saucepan. “Chili. We’re having chili,” she said, intentionally leaving out Emma’s name.
Emma turned, leaning back against the stove and crossed one ankle over the other. “This certainly wasn’t how I expected to spend my evening. And I’m pretty sure it wasn’t how you expected to be spending yours. But I will say you’re a lot nicer than I thought you would be. I’ll be the first to admit that in the halls of McKinley you are certainly intimidating. I’m just curious, does it start to feel like a chore though being head bitch?”
“Does it feel like a chore being this goddamn annoying?”
Her mother came up behind her and swatted her firmly in the back of the head. “Be nice,” her mother warned, smiling at Emma. “You’ll have to excuse my daughter,” she continued. “We don’t have company often.”
“Brittany...”
“Doesn’t count,” her mother repeated, cutting her off. “She’s family.”
Santana blushed a little, turning back to the chili. “Well, whatever. No, Emma,” she stressed. “Being a head bitch isn’t tiring. It’s rewarding.” She ignored her mother’s obnoxious snort and continued. “I’m in charge of something. Plus, I’m good at what I do. What’s chore-ish about it?”
“Just like..” Emma shrugged. “Aren’t there days you wish you could just walk down the hall? Just walk. Without having to worry about whether or not that freshman is appropriately cowering in the corner.”
Santana reached for a bowl out of the cabinet. “No,” she said firmly. “That’s what the rest of your life is for.” She studied Emma for a moment. “You’re what? A sophomore?”
Emma nodded brushing a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “Yeah. I’m a sophomore.”
Santana nodded and passed Emma a bowl of chili, pointing to a drawer by the sinks where the spoons and forks were. “No matter what anyone tells you, high school is the most important four years of your life. They define the person you’re capable of being for the rest of your life. If I have to spend every day of high school making sure at least one person cries, I’ll do it. I’ll do it for four years so that for the rest of my life, I don’t have to worry about people getting in my way.” She shrugged. “They’ll know to move on their own.”
Her mother clucked her tongue, but Santana rolled her eyes. “You know it’s true, Mami. When I graduate, I won’t have to check to make sure people are ‘following rules’. They’ll do it without being asked to.”
“You do realize this is Lima, Ohio, Population: No One Cares. And the people who you’re making cry everyday are probably just as upset over..I dunno..the fact that the mall, if you can call it that, doesn’t have that one purple shirt that everyone else is wearing. ” Emma gave an apologetic look to Santana’s mother before looking back across the table to Santana. “To me, it just makes more sense...I’m being somewhat hypocritical. I’m not a paragon of friendship. It seems like almost every person in this town is content to be put in this...box. You and I want to get out. I can respect that. I just don’t think you need to be mean to everyone to get where you want in life.”
Emma stirred her chili for a moment. “But I could be wrong. In a few years, I could be reading about you in some newspaper wishing I’d joined the Cheerios and let people toss me around in the air while Brittany danced around like sex on legs.” Emma quickly corrected herself after a quick look from Santana’s mom, “I mean....gracefully. Graceful..dancing.”
Santana was glad her mother gave Emma a look before she could. Brittany is sex on legs, she thought. But she’s my sex on legs. “In a few years, this box you’re talking about? It won’t exist. I’m gonna blow the fucking top off of it. Sorry, Mami. You might think Cheerios is just tossing and dancing. It’s not. It’s work. What do you do that requires complete focus and precision three hours a day? Everyone thinks we’re airheads or that it’s just cheerleading. It’s not. It’s my ride, it’s Brittany’s ride, out of this town.”
She took a bite of her chili, ignoring the after-burn sensation it left on the roof of her mouth. This stupid sophomore, coming into her house, eating her food, judging her? Bull. Shit.
“Okay, Santana, okay. I wasn’t trying...” Emma shook her head and took a few bites of her chili. “So what do you want to do when you get out?” She finally asked.
“Kick ass. Take names.” She shrugged. “The usual.”
Emma laughed lightly, “Good plan. I like it. Considering you and I both know you’re pretty good at both of those things.”
Santana looked at her mother and sighed heavily when her mother not-so-subtly nodded in Emma’s direction. “What are you going to do when you graduate?” She asked reluctantly.
“Oh..um...” Emma hesitated, surprised that Santana had asked her, “I’ve recently gotten into photography. But not like...yearbook stuff. I mean that’s nice too, but, I don’t know.” She shrugged just having begun to put the pieces together herself. “I figure photographers get to travel the world. I’ll see a lot of places, meet different people not have everyone on the block know my name and life story. I really see no downside.”
“Sounds... better than working at the Shop-N-Save,” Santana said. “I guess it’s kind of cool, too.”
Emma smiled, looking down at her bowl of chili as she stirred its contents. “What’s this” she teased gently “the Santana Lopez giving me a compliment. I’m not worthy.”
“No, you’re not,” Santana admitted, shrugging. “But there you go. You can have it. Save it for a rainy day and take it out to admire it.” She impatiently checked her watch. “Listen, not to be a buzzkill on all this fun we’re having, but I told Britt I’d study with her for the math test tomorrow.”
Her mother quirked an eyebrow. “And you’re going to study in the living room, right, mi’ja? Not in your room where I know you never actually study?”
Santana smirked proudly. “I will neither confirm nor deny what you’re accusing me of.”
Emma laughed lightly, ducking her head to hide her smile, taking a bite of her chili as mother and daughter bantered. “Mrs. Lopez” she carefully interjected as the woman was about to start in on,what she was sure, would be large, long, and rapid rant. “Thank you for having me over. The food was delicious but Santana is right. I need.... to find my way home since I’m sure my sister has left by now.”
Santana could see the look in her mother’s eyes, and she sighed again. Really, this was just getting out of hand. “Where do you live?” she asked the younger girl.
“By the dinner.” Emma replied handing her empty bowl to Santana’s mother as she passed. She offered a quiet,“gracias” before turning her attention back to Santana, “a few streets over.”
“Well, come on, then,” Santana huffed. “I’ll drop you off. Britt lives that way anyway.” She grabbed her mother’s car keys and her jacket, motioning to Emma to move faster. “See ya, Mami,” she shouted as she hurried out the door, Emma trailing behind her.