On the way to McKinley Elementary, Brittany fiddled nervously with her thumbs while strapped securely in the backseat of her mom's minivan. Gazing out of the window at passing houses and parks, the new first-grader's mind was free to wander about what school could be like for a fresh-faced seven year old like herself. She imagined it couldn't be too bad, considering that her older sister, Elizabeth, only had good things to say about it. She could go on for hours talking of the endless fun that was associated with attending "real school, not that baby stuff you're used to."
As they neared the drop off spot, her mother turned to her with a slightly sad, but mostly encouraging smile and asked her if she wanted her to walk her to her teacher's group.
Brittany simply returned the smile earnestly and spoke softly, "No, mommy. It's okay; I'm a big girl now," then without a second thought, she hopped out of the backseat and skipped over to her new teacher, Ms. Jessica, who was smiling tenderly from the center of a crowd of small children. As Brittany attempted to eagerly make her way through the cluster to her teacher, she didn't have time to notice the single tear that fell from her mother's face as she watched her youngest daughter take her first big step into the real world. Brittany was too busy 'acquainting' herself as they made their way to the classroom.
"Hey! Watch where you're going, stupid," the empty insult had been thrown her way when she'd tripped and bumped into a small, but portly boy in the tight circle of people. She may have been a bit naïve, but as she looked up to his reddened face from the ground where she sat, she couldn't help the way her lip began to quiver and her vision started to blur. He didn't seem to notice; he simply sneered and walked away.
"Hey. No, don't cry. It's gonna be okay," someone else had approached her, and through her teary eyes, she attempted to hold the small girl's gaze. The girl had lightly tanned skin and her eyes were big and chestnut brown as they searched her face for elucidation. They were almost too easy to get lost in, which is exactly what Brittany felt she needed right then, but she had to explain why she was bawling like a baby, even though her sister claimed she could no longer act like one. But staring this beautiful girl down couldn't be helping her to provide rationale.
"I...I just didn't think people would be so mean before they got to know me," she choked out between sobs, "But...why would he say that to me? I really am smart for my age, you know? I can even count to fifty-two," She gave up trying to make sense and put her face in her hands. Explaining and making sense of things was not something she was all that good at. Everything made wonderful sense in her own head, mind you, but when she tried to put her direct thoughts to words, she got the oddest looks.
"I bet you are smart. I bet you can count higher than that stupid boy ever will," she said looking threateningly after the chunky boy. She stood and extended her hand, then, with a weak attempt at a smile, she added, "I'm Santana, by the way. I think we're in the same class."
Brittany allowed her to help her up, and said smiling brightly from ear to ear, "I'm Brittany Susan Pierce. Thanks."
And with that, Brittany had made her very first friend.
After announcing that they were to begin their very first writing lesson, Ms. Jessica told them to find a partner and begin writing out as much of the alphabet as they knew. Brittany and Santana shared a quick glance and had immediately found a cohort in each other. After moving to share a table, they began to write out a few shaky letters before Brittany sighed and looked down wistfully at her lap.
Santana noticed and inquired as to what was wrong.
Without making eye contact, she explained quietly, "That's all I really know," and began to twiddle her thumbs as she had earlier on the ride there.
Santana reached out and rested her hand on Brittany's to try and calm her. She looked at the worried blonde and whispered back, "Me, too," with an understanding smile.
This made Brittany giggle and she finally met Santana's gaze for s second before reaching for a green crayon and handing it to Santana and a yellow one for herself. She then proceeded in doodling ducks on the margin of the paper. Santana joined in doodling lizards, and after a while, their paper was a complicated hodgepodge of lizards and ducks.
An obnoxious guffaw came from behind Brittany and the blonde immediately tensed, her previous bliss being shattered completely.
"Wow. You can't even write the alphabet. You really are dumb!" It was the boy from before, and he seemed to be holding a childish grudge on Brittany for her earlier mishap. Immediately, Santana rose to her feet in a very intimidating manor, causing the boy to cower submissively before pulling himself together.
"Oh, I'm so scared. What're you gonna do? You gonna fight me? A girl is gonna fight me?" As he taunted her, Brittany began to wonder if she was the only one who could see the indignation building inside the small Latina like a volcano threatening to erupt. But before Santana could muster up a response, the recess bell rang, and the kids began to disperse quickly, leaving the teacher's gaze to focus on them. Not wanting to miss out on the fun or to see her friend in trouble so soon, Brittany tugged at Santana's sleeve and motioned pleadingly towards the door.
Santana turned back to the boy and said simply, "Leave her alone," looking him dead in the eye so that he had to be blind to not see resentment sweltering there, "or I will break your face," she then turned her blonde counterpart.
Brittany looked to Santana for a moment and held out her pinky.
"What?" the brunette inquired.
"Promise me you won't really break his face," Brittany said as assertively as she could. At the Latina's hesitance, she added a little less forcefully, "Please?"
Santana mulled it over for a brief moment before deciding that, ultimately, she'd rather see Brittany's thousand-watt smile than this annoying boy's bloody face beneath her fists. With that, she took the quirky blonde's pinky and shook, before dropping their hands. Neither noticed, however, that they maintained this link the as they made their way to the playground gleefully. Neither of them even noticed the hint of panic that engulfed the bully as they walked away.
It was as if they'd completely forgotten the boy even existed.
He left them alone for a few months, though never forgetting to throw mean snickers and caustic glances their way. Until one day he finally mustered up the guts to cross the line that was a signal to Santana to cross him off her list...
The two best friends were sitting in the sandbox, building a large castle for Brittany's princess dolls, when the boy walked up and deliberately kicked it into Brittany's face, making sure to look Santana right in the eye. It took Santana less than two milliseconds to pin him down and proceed to deliver piercing blows to his face. Well, as piercing a blow as a seven year old could manage.
Brittany could hardly see past the sand and tears in her eyes, but she was pretty sure she saw blood. She tried to pull Santana off the boy's chest, because he seemed to be having trouble breathing, but Santana seemed devoted to making his face turn the oddest shade of purple.
Soon enough, Santana was forced to release the boy from her wrath, and Ms. Jessica was there holding back the small, but fiery Latina, reminding her that putting her hands on another child was 'a big no-no'. Santana, nonetheless, seemed anything but interested in what she had to say.
As Ms. Jessica escorted her to the office, she never let her insistent, yet inquisitive gaze on Brittany falter. When they finally turned around the corner and out of sight, Brittany sniffled and wiped her face carelessly on her sleeve. She walked back over to the boy who lay sobbing in the fetal position with a small crowd slowly dispersing around him and looked down at him, disappointment evident on her face. He could have easily just done exactly what Santana had told him and left her alone. Why had he felt the need to bring this pain and humility upon himself? This was all entirely his fault, and as far as Brittany was concerned, he deserved it...
But maybe he had a reason. Everyone has a reason for doing the seemingly mindless things that they do, right? Brittany would know best, since she was always misunderstood when she only meant well. The only person who'd ever fully understood her from the very beginning had been the girl who'd attempted top beat the sad bulk of child before her to a bloody unidentifiable pulp. But then again, maybe helping him see that he didn't need to act this way to get his point across would make him stop the torment.
Noticing the sharp aquatic blue eyes desperately searching his face, he looked up at her briefly before averting her razor-sharp gaze. She never looked away, but simply extended her hand in as slight peace offering, even offering a faint smile. He hesitantly got to his feet on his own, ignoring her hand indignantly, and he limped over to the nurse's station. Brittany followed at a distance, ready to catch him if he fell, but not entirely sure he trusted her, even though, considering everything, it should have been the other way around. She even waited with him while the nurse examined him, entirely dedicated to staying by his side in case he finally saw the light and confided in her.
As she helped him put a bandage on a cut above his left temple, he finally looked her in the eye and asked, "Why are you doing this?"
She paused for a second and said matter-of-factly, "Because if I don't, your brain will bleed so much, that it'll leak right out of your head."
Confused for a moment, he tried again, "No, you freaking retard-" he stopped himself before mumbling, "I meant… why are you being so nice to me?"
Brittany didn't miss his little slip up and immediately dropped the cotton ball she was holding.
"You know, you really shouldn't mumble 'coz it's really starting to bum me out," she replied heatedly, instead of giving him an answer.
She shot him a look of genuine disappointment before turning on her heel and leaving. She knew this was a bad idea. It always worked better in the TV shows she watched, where the bully felt bad when the kid he was picking on was super nice to him. Kill them with kindness, that was what her sister always said, wasn't it? She guessed it took more than a little nurture, but she just really couldn't stand to deal with him anymore.
She wandered the halls searching for Santana for about a half hour before making her way back to her classroom, failure weighing down her shoulders. After a concerned but stern talking-to from the student teacher about creating bad habits as a truant from an early age, she made her way back to her and Santana's table feeling exceedingly incomplete. She couldn't really focus on the task that the teacher had left them while she was busy with the Latina, so instead she watched the door pensively, wondering when her companion would return and give her that devious look that she was so good at. That look that let her know that the moments they'd shared meant as much to Santana as they did to her. The look that, in the future, would be the image Brittany played over and over in her mind every night for hours before she went to sleep. The look that somehow snuck its way snugly into her dreams for years.
She went a whole three days without Santana, and all three of them she might as well have been apart from her body. Her thoughts during that time were really the only things she could remember. That and that her bully hardly took his eyes off her.
She remained in that mind-set until a familiar voice entered her mind, but it wasn't the one she'd wanted desperately to hear.
"What?" she asked slightly harsher than what was usual for her, realizing that the words had come from the boy who couldn't find anything more interesting to do than bore holes into the back of Brittany's head with his eyes. The boy whose voice took the place of her beloved other half, San.
"Oh, well, I -uhm- I was just, you know, wondering if you'd like to maybe share a crayon with me," he looked at her apologetically, hope very prevalent in his eyes and his usually self-confident tone lost completely.
"No, not really... I can only use one at a time," she said squinting as she thought about it some more, "and that makes it kind of hard to share, so..."
"Oh, I could, uhm. Well, okay, then. I guess I, uh. Bye," He awkwardly ended the conversation and sulked back over to his table. Brittany couldn't care to be bothered by this odd behavior, though, for Santana was still missing in presence, though rather prevalent in her thoughts.
At recess later that week, the boy built up the courage to approach the lonely blonde again, and she hardly noticed his presence for a whole ten minutes.
"Yes?" she asked halfheartedly, knowing that the individual beside her couldn't possibly be Santana, because if it was, strong, beautifully tan arms would be wrapped tightly around her, comforting her, and a soft, consoling voice would be right there in her ear to tell her everything would be okay, because she was there now. But it wasn't Santana. And she wasn't there.
"Oh, hey, again. I was just, you know, wondering. So, it's- uh, I guess- Never mind; it's stupid. I guess I'll go now," as he turned to leave Brittany was on the verge of letting him, but when she got a good look at the pitifully meek expression on his face, she stopped him and ushered him back over.
"Wait, I don't think I even caught your question, but whatever it was, I bet you five bucks, it was not stupid," she looked unto him expectantly before he realized she was asking him to talk to her.
"Oh, well, I was just, uh, wondering if I could eat my lunch with you today. Cause I noticed that, you know, Santana-" he stopped short at the look of hurt that flashed in Brittany's eyes, but he looked away quickly and continued, "-isn't here. And you looked lonely, so, I'll share with you," and with a smile he sat and offered her his Oreo cookies.
She didn't take her eyes off him as she less than reluctantly accepted the snack. I mean they were Oreos, and who in their right mind could pass those up? She meticulously took them apart and sat them on her knee, lining them up before separating them to lick them clean. The boy noticed and laughed innocently. Only Brittany didn't know it wasn't detrimental and immediately got to her feet, carelessly allowing the cookies to fall from her knee. The boy stood too, and walked towards her slowly, his hands raised to show he meant not harm.
"Why are you so mean? Can't you tell that makes people not like you as much? Don't you know when you're nicer to people, they like you more and don't beat you up for kicking sand in their best friend's face? What's wrong with you?" Brittany spat the words at him, trying to be as menacing as she could, but that had always been Santana's niche. Brittany hadn't the slightest idea how to frighten a mouse, and she never thought she'd need to. But lately she'd been not so sure about a lot of things, and this boy was one of them. He just seemed incapable of doing any good.
Brittany began to open her mouth to urge him to speak, but her lips were suddenly trapped between his, and she hit the wall of the playground structure hard, before she could even register what was happening.
It all took place quickly, and she wasn't sure how to respond, but she was absolutely positive she didn't like it. She freed her lips from his swiftly and brought her knee up to his groin. He immediately fell to his knees and began to sob.
"That's not what you do when someone kisses you, you weird, dumb, stupid girl! Don't you know anything?" If there was ever a theory that every person in the world has a breaking point, and that their deepest anger could be activated at any given moment, by any given person, then the key to Brittany's explosion was hidden in every single "stupid" thing that this boy had done and said to her, and there was no holding her back from the fury she was feeling coursing through her veins.
Brittany couldn't find words to explain how she was feeling any longer. She'd already admitted that that wasn't her forte. So instead, she settled for lunging at the pathetic boy before her and pinned him down similar to how Santana had just weeks before. Unlike her Hispanic equivalent, however, she began to claw ruthlessly at the boy's face. She was seemingly deaf to the boys screams, and she didn't even flinch as he tried with all his might to leave a mark of his own. It all happened so fast, and soon enough, none other than Santana was there behind to her, pulling her off of the chubby boy who lay miserably on the wood chips and saying in the calmest voice she could manage, "This isn't you, Brittany. Leave him alone."
Brittany immediately obeyed, collapsed in Santana's arms, and broke down. And she cried and cried, even though San was there now, just as she'd hoped. And that was all that really mattered. But all the emotion she was feeling was overwhelming, and all that was all she could really do. At least until she fell asleep, cuddled into the Latina's chest, engulfing herself in the girl whom she'd yearned for so deeply.
When she came to, she was laying with her head in Santana's lap in a well lit room. She'd seen the room before, but couldn't quite remember it. She briefly scanned the room and noticed a woman glaring at them sympathetically.
"San," she paused and licked her lips; her mouth had grown entirely too dry for her liking, "San, he-"
"Shhh, it's okay," Santana spoke without meeting her stare. She thought she saw a tear. But she couldn't always believe everything she thought. So she kept trying to explain nevertheless.
"No, it isn't," she furrowed her brow and sat up to face the cheerless girl, determined to get her point across, "You don't get it. He-"
"I know; I saw it," Santana finally met her gaze and she held it.
Brittany paused for a moment searching the girl's eyes for this new even more protective she was seeing from Santana.
"Oh," she rested her head back on the small girl's lap and thought for a while.
"Hey, San?"
"Yeah, Britt?" her voice was almost a whisper.
"Do you think anyone else may have saw the, uhm?" she couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence.
"No, Britt. No one else saw it."
"Oh, okay… San?"
The girl murmured in response.
"Where are we?"
"We're in the office, Britt-Britt," her voice cracked just the slightest bit, something anyone else wouldn't have possibly heard.
"Oh," another long pause, "Why, San?"
Santana looked down at her confused friend, but before she could speak, a plump woman entered the room, worry evident on her face. She stopped at the reception desk and spoke in a hushed tone, as if she didn't want someone in the room to hear.
Brittany looked around and noticed there was no one else there waiting with them, so she assumed she wasn't supposed to hear. She didn't know the woman, so she made sure to cover her ears as she spoke.
She didn't hear most of the conversation being held by the adults in the room, but the look on Santana's face was enough to know it probably had something to do with them.
Brittany unplugged her ears to ask Santana what was happening, but the receptionist turned on the intercom and said over a school-wide announcement, "David Karofsky, please report to the main office, David Karofsky," before she could even open her mouth.
Realization spread across her face as she began to recall the deed she'd just done.
"San," she said cautiously, her voice wavering as the pudgy boy who'd tormented her for the whole of the year entered the room with his eyes glued to the floor, "Are we in trouble?"
"No, Britt. We're just visiting the nurse for the bruise on your head," Santana's eyes followed the boy guardedly.
"Oh, okay… Uh, San? Why is he here?" she looked absently towards the battered boy, who seemed all too interested in something on his shoes.
"Who? Dave? He's expelled Britt-Britt."
"Oh, yeah…Why?"
"Because he attacked you, so we told on him. Remember?" she asked sounding rather alarmed for a moment.
"Oh. Yeah, San. But he-"
"Kissed you. I know."
They paused and watched Dave, who was still holding up a staring contest with the tiled floor, leave with his worried mother, who didn't meet her son's eyes for the entire walk out.
"San?"
"Yeah, Britt?"
"What's expelled mean?"
Santana looked into the big blue eyes that calmed her every brewing thought and said indifferently, "It means he's never coming back, Britt-Britt."
"Oh... So he's not gonna be mean to me anymore?" she asked optimistically, imagining big kid school without the torture she'd been receiving.
Santana laughed openly, "Nope. No one's gonna be mean to you as long as you've got me."
And little did they know that they'd have each other for the rest of their lives, even when things were looking dark, and they both thought they wouldn't, couldn't, reconcile and recover.
But then again, Brittany should have known that her thoughts could always be just a little off...