This is my first attempt at any fan fiction! Please forgive my ignorance and many mistakes. I've been reading for awhile now and I finally decided I just couldn't NOT write something. Please review and help me become more informed and get better!
People say I'm stupid. I get it, I really do. I'm blonde, bubbly, chew too much gum, and the things that come out of my mouth are generally more akin to an eight year old than a high school student. The funny thing is, I'm not dumb. The world just looks different to me, and I'm uninhibited enough to point those differences out. I don't fit into a mold. I hate molds with the same passion I hate lots of clothing. They're both so restricting, so good at helping us hide. I think that's why she likes being my friend, because she wishes she could be like me.
The first day we met I liked her right away. There was something so… guarded about her. I enjoyed a challenge, even at twelve. So, in the middle of the crowded middle school hallway, right after first period English, I walked over to her and said, "Your name is cool, I'm Brittany." I grabbed her hand and pulled her with me as I asked her about her schedule. She resisted at first and I expected that. She had massive walls built up, and I had no boundaries, it was bound to be complicated. By the time we walked all the way across our school to the sixth grade lockers and I dropped her hand, she looked a little disappointed. I rambled as we walked; about ducks, Popsicles, and swimming pools. Not because those were pressing issues on my mind, simply because I knew that "dumb" put people at ease, and that conversations should be simple and funny. She didn't appear to know that. Her first words to me, blurted out quickly were,
"Are you new? Because I know all the kids who were in the fifth grade last year and I don't know you." With those words I was introduced to her almost religious regard for social status. I nodded, my blonde hair bouncing over my shoulders,
"Yep. My family just moved from Missouri. It's weird though, Missouri and Ohio are so much alike, it's almost like we didn't move at all and my parents just told me we did." She smiled a small smile and shut her locker.
"Well, it's nice to meet you. Brittany, right?" I slammed my locker, pleased at the loud noise it made and replied,
"You got it." I turned around and began to walk away, my notebook clenched to my chest. I wanted to stay, believe me; I had decided I needed to know everything there was to know about this girl. But I had made up rules for making friends because I had so much trouble with it. The first rule was, don't over stay your welcome.
I jumped when a hand on my elbow interrupted my thoughts. I looked to my left and saw her. She had followed me. She grabbed my left hand away from my notebook and I let her. I briefly thought my ideas about her and her regard for social status and the brick walls surrounding her heart were wrong as it looked like she was going to hold my hand. Then she glanced around the busy hallway and dropped my hand, keeping only my pinky linked with hers.
I should have known that day, that minute that very second, she was going to break my heart. But I was curious. That's usually what gets me in the most trouble of all, my curiosity. I wanted to find out why she hid, why she cared so much about being popular, why my pinky was ok for holding; but not my hand. She's answered those questions in the last five years.
Summer after 7th grade
"Britt? Can I come over?" I shuffled to the edge of my bed and stared out the window as my sleep scratchy voice replied,
"San, you know you can ALWAYS come over. But why now? It's 2:00 in the morning." My mind was reeling with the implications of this phone call. She stayed over all the time, yet she'd never called to come over in the middle of the night. Usually she wanted to come over right after school and stay all weekend long. I think she would have stayed through the week too if my mom would have just stopped throwing her those damn death glares.
Speaking of my parents, I love them, I really do. They love me too, I think. The problem is, they believe strongly in molds and labels. They'd assigned me one when I was in grade school and couldn't figure out long division. They never said it out loud, but I knew they thought I was silly, an airhead, maybe they even thought I was dumb. Whatever, I let people think what they want, even my parents. I knew who I was, and Santana was learning who I was, other than that? It didn't seem to matter to me.
So lost in my thoughts, I missed Santana's next sentence and all I heard on the other end of the phone was sniffling. She was crying? My heart broke. "Come on San. Two blocks and you'd better run. It's late and that makes me nervous so I'm timing you." The call ended without another word and I walked to my bedroom window. I saw her as she sprinted fleet-footed and sure into my front yard. She froze as soon as she stepped past the curb and I wondered if she thought floodlights and sirens were about to sound to catch her sneaking into my bedroom. I slid the bedroom window open and hissed, "Come on San, and hurry before the burglar alarm goes off!" Even from the other side of the yard I saw her pale as she sprinted to my window and dove headfirst through the open pane. I giggled as she lied on her back on my floor. She was gasping for air, more from fear than exertion I think as she asked,
"Britts are you serious? You guys really have a burglar alarm that goes off when someone is in your yard?" I just giggled and replied,
"I dunno." She shot me a glare that I knew was fake, she still thought I was dumb sometimes. Then her face fell into a frown. I realized this could be a clue to what I had missed on the phone and so I dropped gracefully to the floor beside her and laid my head on her shoulder and asked,
"Why so sad San?" I felt her take a deep breath and I lifted my head when she didn't answer. I looked at her, as intently as possible, and I saw many different emotions run through her velvety brown eyes. Finally she exhaled sharply through her nose and said,
"You know my mom. Always the bitch. I just needed to escape." I nodded, trying to convey understanding, yet I still replied,
"It's like 2 in the morning, why were you even talking to her?" She uttered a bitter chuckle and sarcastically replied,
"You wouldn't get it Britt. Two in the morning is like the witching hour for alcoholics. The bar closed at one and by the time she stumbled home to lay into me about everything, well… Here we are, two in the morning." She closed her eyes as tears leaked out of them. She put her hands over her face and I knew it was because she hated that she cared so much about this. She didn't want me to see her cry. She did this all the time. She would hide herself away from me the moment she began to feel something.
I had known Santana Lopez for 668 days now. I wasn't counting, it's just one of those random things my brain does. I wasn't anywhere close to breaking down all her walls. It bugged me. I loved her. She was my very best friend, and sometimes late at night I thought she might be more than that. She was tough, fiery, interesting, and she needed me, even if she wouldn't admit that yet. There were details about San's life that I knew I still didn't have. I had, however, recently learned that her mom was an alcoholic. That was a slip up on Santana's part that I'm sure she regrets to this day.
We were at her house, lying on her bed, watching some stupid television show. Summer break had begun only three days ago and we had spent most of every day together so far. I was lying close to Santana, resisting the urge that told me to grab her hand. The front door slammed and Santana jumped three feet into the air. She hated loud noises and I just giggled at her. She turned to look at the time on her phone and I heard her mumble,
"Shit." She scrambled out of the bed and whipped her head around to stare at me, her eyes wide, and I saw something in them I had seldom seen. Fear. She shook her head and dove from the bed, grabbing my slides and thrusting them into my hands.
"You gotta go Brittany. Don't say anything; don't ask anything, just go. Please. Out the window." I wrinkled my nose, sat up on the bed, and said,
"San, your bedroom is on the second floor! I'll break my neck trying to get down from the window!" Her face paled and her eyes flicked to the closed bedroom door. I heard footsteps outside and I saw Santana's shoulders drop momentarily before she looked at me, her perfect mask back in place, and resignation in her eyes. She knocked the slides out of my hands onto the floor and pushed my shoulders back onto her bed as she replied,
"Yeah. Okay." As soon as the words left her mouth the door burst open and I saw Mrs. Lopez for the first time. She looked a lot like Santana. I could see where San had gotten her beautiful eyes, her perfect nose, and her wide smile. The difference? Mrs. Lopez had wrinkles around her eyes and mouth, and streaks of gray ran through her raven hair. She was dressed in her uniform. Mrs. L was a cop, which I thought was pretty cool. As she stood in the doorway she slowly swayed back and forth and grabbed onto the doorframe to steady herself. I heard Santana whisper behind me,
"Shit." But I was already standing up and fluidly walking toward the door with my hand out.
"Hello Mrs. Lopez. I'm Brittany Pierce, Santana's friend. I've been looking forward to meeting you for a long time." I stood before her awkwardly holding my hand out as she glared at me, her eyes unfocused. When she opened her mouth to speak I could smell the alcohol on her breath. Her eyes left mine as she barked at Santana,
"What is she doing here Santana? You know I don't like anyone at the house. We'll talk about this later." She turned, keeping a tight hold on the doorframe for balance, then staggered down the hall. Santana sighed loudly and I turned from my frozen position by the door to look at her.
"Well," she snarled, "what do you have to say? I know you could tell she was drunk. Jesus, she slurred every word of that sentence." I knew immediately this would be a make or break moment in our relationship. I had just found out one of Santana's secrets. Our friendship was never supposed to get to this place in San's mind. So I decided not to panic, just to accept. She needed me. I walked back to her bed, slid on my slide sandals, leaned over and brushed her hair out of her eyes. I said,
"I'd better go, I sure don't want you to get grounded and not be able to come over tomorrow. Love you San." I brushed her cheek with my hand and turned to walk out the door.
"Britt wait!" I heard as I tugged open the Lopez's front door. I turned and saw Santana at the top of the stairs with a backpack on her back. She ran down the stairs and came to stand beside me. She looked at me nervously and linked her right pinky with my left as she hesitantly asked, "Do you think your parents will care if I stay the night tonight? I mean… I just… Do you think it's ok?" I beamed at her and tugged her pinky as we walked out the door and said,
"I bet it's fine San."
That was a week ago and Santana had been at my house every day since then. I tried once to start a discussion about her mom, but she had just cut me off to talk about all the cute boys in our class. I let it go; when she was ready to talk we would talk. Now here she was crawling through my window crying at two in the morning, it must be time to talk. She stood up from the floor and walked to desk. She pulled herself up to sit on my desk and I followed her.
"Nuh-uh." She said. "I need some space. Go sit on the bed." I frowned but turned to walk over to my bed. I sat down and immediately curled my knees up underneath my chin. Santana placed her hands over her eyes again and whispered,
"I'm going to do this fast and we're never going to talk about it again. Ok?" Her watery brown eyes peeked through her fingers at me and I nodded quickly. She nodded back sharply and began talking.
"I was eight. My Mom had worked and supported my Dad through medical school once they found out she was pregnant with me at eighteen. They were never happy together, but they got married anyway when she got pregnant because that's what good little Catholics do. Anyway, I was eight and I think I was happy as far as eight year olds go. Then one night Dad doesn't come home from work. I haven't seen him since. Mom tells me in her… less lucid moments… that he's remarried to the love of his life and that they have twin boys who are four. Anyway, that's not important. He left her for the love of his life and she found the love of her life. Booze. She drinks constantly from the time she gets home from work until it's time for her to go in again. She keeps her job because she doesn't drink on duty, she doesn't drink and drive. She's not stupid. She's mean when she drinks though. She's done some stuff to me before… But it's whatever; I can take care of myself. I was embarrassed to tell you this Britt. I didn't want you to know. But, honestly? I've never had a friend like you before. I've never had someone who looks at me like you do, who really sees me you know? You make me nervous because I think you know so much more than just what I tell you. You didn't even act surprised when you met my mom and she was sloshed the other day… I don't know why you like me, or like hanging out with me, but I can't lose you. I don't talk about stuff like this with anyone, but I wanted you to know, at least a little bit. I'm sorry I…" I cut off Santana's rambling by standing from the bed and walking to my desk. She cut off her speech and looked up at me with the most raw and honest and vulnerable look on her face I'd ever seen. I stood between her knees and said,
"It's ok San. I'm not going anywhere. I love you." Then, with the innocence of a thirteen year old I leaned into her, closed my eyes, and kissed her gently on the lips. She breathed out quickly and grabbed me around the neck in a tight hug. She stood up and pressed her face into my neck. I wrapped my arms tightly around her back as she sobbed. I ran one hand over her raven hair and whispered into the hair at the crown of her head,
"It's gonna be ok. I'll never leave. Never. You'll always have me."
What do you think? Let me know! Like I said, I'm new at this so if it's horrible please feel free to tell me! :-)