Santana sat in her car, impatiently waiting for Brittany. What could take someone so long? She had left the girl alone at her locker five minutes ago, and Santana thought that would be plenty time for Brittany to grab her bag and meet her in the car. Apparently not.
Brittany arrived another ten minutes later, her hair half out of it's ponytail, her bag sloppily thrown over her shoulder. She threw her stuff in Santana's car, then got in herself.
"Sorry it took me so long, I wa-"
"Whatever." Santana interrupted, rolling her eyes.
"What?" Brittany paused to look at her friend.
"Just, whatever." Santana said.
Brittany continued doing up her seat belt, muttering something about 'don't have to be so rude about it' under her breath. Santana felt a pang of guilt, but brushed it off and drove out of the parking lot.
After Santana had dropped off Brittany, she arrived at her own house.
"How was school today?" Her mother asked.
"Cool." Santana said flatly.
"Really? Did you learn anything?" Her mother tried again for conversation.
Santana gave her mom a fleeting glance and ran up the stairs. She thought she could hear her mother commenting on her ignorance, but she ignored it and pushed out the sharp pang of guilt once more.
Santana was getting angrier at the world everyday. She needed something to take it out on, and one of her personal favourite victims was standing right in front of her. Rachel Berry.
"Hey, Man Hands." Santana faked a grin at the brunette.
"Santana." Rachel greeted her coldly.
"So, how are you and Finnocence doing?" Santana gave the girl an evil grin, she knew for a fact that they had broken up days ago and Rachel was far from over it.
"That's hardly any of your business." Rachel said firmly.
Santana leaned against the locker next to Rachel's. "Isn't it, though?"
"Santana, could you please go away?" Rachel said this while sincerely hoping Santana would back off.
Santana felt something stir in the pit of her stomach at Rachel's tone. Mistaking it for anger, she hit the locker with her knuckles.
"No, tell me how you and Finn are doing, and I'll back off." She was losing her touch, and she could clearly see it.
All Santana wanted was for someone else to feel the pain she was concealing, but Rachel turned to her, throwing it right back in her face.
"Really, Santana? Let me ask you a question, how are you and Brittany doing? You don't seem to talk as much as you used to." Rachel snapped.
Santana fell silent, screwing her face up in a grimace to keep from looking upset. Rachel, seeming to realize she'd just hurt the hardest girl in school's feelings, moved to apologize, but Santana brushed her off, and walked calmly down the hallway, stamping the pain she was feeling into the back of her head, where it belonged.
Santana didn't cry. She never cried, unless she was drunk. Instead of crying, she lashed out. But sitting in her room alone at half-past midnight left no one to lash out at. She sat in front of her computer screen, still as stone on the outside while a battle raged on the inside. Half of her was telling her to stop being such a bitch, and the other half was telling her to go ahead and be a bitch. As a whole, Santana wanted nothing more than to find out why she was so angry all the time. She logged on to her email account, and grimaced when she noticed Brittany was online. Her frown deepened as a little chat ox appeared, displaying a message from Brittany.
Brittany: Hey, what are you doing up so late?
Santana: ... I don't know, thinking. Shouldn't you be in bed?
Brittany: What are you thinking about?
Santana: Stuff.
Brittany: What kind of stuff?
Santana: Just stuff-stuff. Can I ask you something?
Things weren't exactly normal between her and Brittany at the moment, but Santana had no one else to talk to.
Brittany: Of course.
Santana: Do you think I'm a bitch?
Santana mentally braced herself while waiting for Brittany's reply. Her heart seemed to skip a beat when the beep from her computer alerted her that Brittany had replied.
Brittany: No, why would anyone think that?
A few roads away, Brittany grimaced at the lie she'd just typed. She didn't think Santana was a total bitch, she was just a little rude sometimes. Not usually to Brittany, but it had gotten worse lately.
Santana: Thanks, B. I think I'm gonna get some sleep. You should too. Goodnight.
Brittany: Goodnight San, I love you.
But Santana had already signed off.
The next day at school, Santana wasn't as angry as before. When Rachel passed her in the hall, she didn't insult her, much to Rachel's surprise. While her good mood lasted well through all of her classes, she broke in glee club that afternoon. She took her usual seat in the back row with two empty seats on either side of her. Quinn sat down next to her on her right, and Santana felt a glimmer of hope that Brittany might actually sit with her after last night, but instead the blonde completely ignored her and sat next to her boyfriend, Artie. Santana frowned, as her stomach flipped and anger mixed with a pain Santana couldn't explain settled into the pit of her stomach. She tried to push it back down, but it refused to go away and Santana fidgeted in her seat. She didn't mean to sound rude when Rachel tried to sit next to her, she honestly didn't.
"What do you think you're doing?" She said, loud enough for the whole room to hear.
"Huh?" Rachel frowned.
"Er – never mind, you can sit there if you'd like." Santana mentally shook herself, trying to get this horrible feeling out of her head.
Confused as ever, Rachel sat down hesitantly next to Santana, hoping the girl wouldn't bite her head off. She was being quite bipolar these days.
Meanwhile, while this was happening, Artie was talking in a low voice to Brittany.
"Santana's being extra rude now, isn't she – oh wait, did she just say Rachel could sit there? Girl, what's this about? Santana's kind of a bitch, don't you think? Brit?" Brittany was watching Santana out of the corner of her eye, barely hearing anything Artie was saying.
Brittany recognized this Santana vaguely. She got like this whenever she was dealing with unwanted feelings.
"Excuse me," She muttered to Artie, and she got out of her chair and walked over to Santana.
Brittany bent low to whisper in to Santana's ear.
"I think we need to talk." Getting the hint, Santana got up and followed Brittany out of the choir room.
"What's up?" Santana asked.
"Okay, Santana. I'm going to cut right to the chase here." Brittany was using a tone of voice that only Santana had heard. "I've seen you like this before. You're dealing with your feelings, and I know that I'm with Artie," She watched Santana cringe at his name, "but you need a friend right now. Do you mind if I come over tonight, and you can talk to me about it then?"
"No, I don't mind." Santana smiled weakly.
Brittany was sometimes the only person who saw right through Santana.
That night, Santana sat alone on her bed, waiting for Brittany to come. She wasn't quite sure how she was going to talk to Brittany about what was wrong when she wasn't even sure herself. She knew that every time she saw Brittany with Artie, that was when the pain came and hit her hardest. Yet, that could have to do with jealousy, right? Artie was getting to spend more time with Brittany than she was, so that was the problem, right? Santana guessed this was some of the problem, but it didn't feel like that was it. There was something more. She picked up a glass filled with water and fiddled with it, not actually drinking it. She didn't put it down when she heard the knock at the door, she just carried it down with her.
"Hey," Brittany smiled as Santana opened the door.
"Hi." Santana "We can go up to my room, okay?"
"Yeah, alright."
Santana led Brittany upstairs, occasionally sipping from the glass. Her mouth was unusually dry.
When they got up to Santana's room, Santana sat down on the bed, still holding the glass. Brittany sat down across from her, and started talking at once.
"So, what's bothering you?"
"I – I'm not really sure." Brittany cocked her head to the side.
"How are you not sure?"
"Well, I know for one thing that I'm jealous."
"Jealous of who, or what?"
"If I'm being honest with you, I'm jealous of Artie. He gets to see more of you than I do, and I've been there for you from the start, he's just come into the picture now. Yet, I know that's not it. There's something else, but I can't identify it."
"Oh, San. If I knew you were jealous, I would've come over more often, it's just, Artie's a really nice guy and he's sweet an-"
Santana cut her off abruptly, jealously boiling inside of her again. "I thought we were here to talk about us, not Artie." Santana said this without thinking, and realized her mistake only after she had finished her sentence.
"We're here to talk about you, Santana." Brittany said slowly.
Brittany could see the problem before Santana noticed it herself. She thought back to when glee club had been assigned duets and she'd suggested they do one together, and Santana had rejected her, telling her that she wasn't in love with her.
"Brit." Santana said cautiously, staring at the glass in her hands.
The glass, Santana thought, in a way, was kind of like her. It was in one piece, but at one slip of the finger it could shatter into a million pieces, and it could take forever to put back together.
"Santana, you know I love you." Brittany said slowly, measuring her words carefully. "But Artie was there when you weren't."
The room fell silent as the glass slipped from Santana's hands and glass shattered across the floor.