Summer of Lies

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or anything affiliated with Glee.

A/N: Ok, so maybe starting a new fic is the last thing I should do, but this idea has been floating around in my head and I wanted to get it down. I've always wanted to do something from Brittany's POV. If there is enough interest in it, I'll continue, so let me know what you guys think J Thanks! Oh! I promise it won't be all angst, I know some of you don't like that…it gets better!

Chapter 1

"When did you get so smart?" she asks me with a smile that makes my knees go weak.

"You're too kind," I say, my cheeks turning red with embarrassment. "You better put that voodoo doll of Rachel away, we're not leaving school yet."

"What? Why?"

"Last Glee club meeting of the year."

"Do we really have to go?" she whines.

"Yes, and you have to be nice to Rachel and Finn, they are not the reason why we lost Nationals. We weren't anywhere near as prepared as we should have been, that is the reason why we lost."

"Fine," she says, with a sigh and her signature eye roll, as she stuffs the Rachel doll deep into her bag.

I go to link my pinky with hers, noticing how she glances around to see if anyone is looking before taking my pinky. I sigh a little, realizing this is how it's going to be for a long time. I feel her drop my hand as soon as we enter the choir room which confuses me a little bit, no make that a lot. Apparently she's convinced someone will find out about her if they see us touching at all, which doesn't make sense to me, because no one ever looked twice at us before.

"I'm sorry," she says quietly before joining Quinn and I wonder how many more times I'll hear her say those two words.

When did you get so smart, echoes through my mind as I take a seat in the choir room, watching as all my friends laugh and talk, excited about their summer plans. It's funny, I've never thought of myself as smart, but I know I'm not dumb either. I'm actually a lot smarter than I let on, but everyone has their 'thing.' Quinn was the bitchy head cheerleader, Tina had her stutter, Rachel is always a star, Santana is the token mean girl, and mine was to just say random things as they come to me, and be the aloof funny girl.

"Hey Brittany," Artie says as he rolls up to me.

"Hi." I can already feel the daggers shooting from Santana's eyes as I turn to talk to Artie. "What are you doing this summer?"

"Move it Wheels," Santana cuts him off before he can even answer my question. She glares at the back of his head until he's deep into a conversation with Tina.

I take a deep breath, choosing my words wisely before speaking. "We're going to need to talk," I finally say.

"About?" She looks at me and I can tell she knows exactly what it's about, her eyes are like an open book.

"I'm not going to play this game with you," I say, keeping my voice low so no one would be able to over hear us.

"What game?" she asks, slightly annoyed that I'm bringing this up here and now.

"The you can't have me but no one else can either game. There is nothing going on with Artie and me anymore, but that doesn't mean we can't be friends."

"I don't trust him and besides he's not good for you."

"Neither is not being truthful to yourself," I say before I can stop the words from spilling from my mouth.

She opens her mouth to say something, then promptly closes it, knowing I'm right and she has nothing to retort back.

"So can we talk more later, back at my house, please?"

"Congrats on 12th place guys!" Mr. Shue says excitedly as he walks into the room, ending my conversation with Santana. "I'm proud of you guys, and next year we'll aim for making it into the top ten. Now, to continue our tradition of naming a MVP, drum roll please Finn. This year's MVP is, Santana."

I watch as her face goes from confused to excited within seconds. She smiles widely as she walks to the front of the room to accept her award. I can tell she's on the verge of tears, but would never show them in front of the club.

"I'd like to say I'm surprised," she says, trying to play it all cool, "but I totally deserve this."

Truth is, she really does deserve it. She got Kurt back to this school, she worked hard in New York and pretty much wrote Light Up the World all on her own. I smile at her, I love seeing her so happy.

She catches my eye and gives me a slight nod and smile before turning her attention back to the rest of the group. "Here's to winning Nationals next year!" she says, raising her trophy.

"You guys have a great summer, see you in the Fall," Mr. Shuester calls out to us as we begin to leave the choir room.

"Can you guys believe we're going to be seniors next year?" Rachel asks all of us as we walk down the hallway.

"It's going to be so weird," Finn says, as he puts his arm around her shoulders.

"You guys are a bunch of babies," Santana informs them. "I for one will be happy to get out of this place."

I keep quiet, knowing exactly why she can't wait to get out of here. She's looking forward to the day she can be true to herself, and that most likely will never happen in this town. I say my goodbyes to my friends, knowing we'd be seeing each other soon and head to Santana's car. "Your place or mine?"

She gets behind the wheel of her BMW and pauses before turning the key in the ignition. "Did you know I was going to win that award?"

"Well, I voted for you, but I didn't know for sure. Are you happy?"

"Over a stupid plastic trophy, whatever."

I see the smile in her eyes and I know it means more to her than she will ever let on.

"So how should we celebrate our first night of the summer? Sweet Valley High and getting our cuddle on?" she says, tying to change the subject.

"Maybe, but we really do need to talk." I hear her sigh, knowing full well that's the last thing she wants to do. "It's really important to me."

"Fine," she finally concedes as she pulls into the driveway of her parent's large house. I always laugh a little to myself when we're here, because no matter how hard Santana tries to convince people she's from the wrong side of town, nothing could be further from the truth.

I follow behind her up the large circular staircase that led to pretty much her own side of the house, knowing each step by heart. "So," I begin, making myself comfortable on her bed, knowing this was going to be a long and drawn out conversation. "I'm allowed to have friends that are boys, even boys that are named Artie."

"I don't care who you're friends with," she says from her spot in her large papasan chair. "As long as you're not friends with him," she adds quietly.

"Technically, we're not dating, you can't tell me who I can and can't see. Did I stop you from being with Karofsky?"

"That's different," she insists. "I did that for the club."

"Just the club?"

"Okay fine, and I did it to win prom queen, and we all know how well that worked out."

"Santana you did it because you were hiding and not being true to yourself. That's what this whole problem is about."

"What whole problem?"

"Your attitude about us not being together and me talking to random people."

"Need I remind you that I am not the reason we aren't together, you are."

"Excuse me?" I ask, not because I didn't hear her, but more because I can't believe she actually just said that.

"You heard me," she retorts back quickly. "I told you I loved so many times, and you rejected me for stupid Wheels."

I stand up and start pacing her room because I can't believe she just said that, and I can't keep still any longer. "I thought we were over all of this! Do I need to remind you, that I wanted to go to prom with you, that I was going to do ALL the talking and all you had to do was say 'yes.' Did you ever once think about how much it hurt me when you didn't show with only a text message? You could have at least called or came by and talked to me about it, I wouldn't have put it on Fondue for Two."

She sat there, avoiding eye contact with me, she knows I'm right.

"Besides," I continue, "Did I not just tell you I loved you more than anything I've ever loved in the entire world in school earlier?" I can see the tears beginning to form in her beautiful dark brown eyes, and it makes my stomach turn to know I'm the reason why she's getting upset. Words start coming out of my mouth before I even know what I'm saying. "We can't be together right now, Santana."

"Why can't we?" she chokes out through sobs, tears now freely falling from her face.

"We can't be together right now," I repeat slowly. I kneel down in front of her, making her look me in the eyes. "Look, I know I'm bi curious, you know you're Lebanese, I know you're Lebanese, but no one else knows it. I'm doing this for you…for us."

"How is breaking my heart good for us?" she asks, with a mixture of sadness and anger that breaks my heart.

I carefully wipe away her tears with the pads of my thumbs before answering. "I know how hard this is for you, but I'm really afraid if we start to date secretly you won't have a reason to come out, and you'll be hiding who you are forever. It's not healthy. Remember what happened to Kurt when he tried to keep it in? He started to dress all weird and sang some weird song about America? What was that? Anyway, I don't want that to happen to you. Besides, you're so awesome and amazing Santana, I don't want to be hiding my relationship with you. I want the whole world to know how amazing my girlfriend is. I'll wait for you, but you need to do it on your own time, I'm not going to force you to do anything you're not ready to do." I lean back on my heels, giving her some space. I can see the mixed amount of emotions flicker through her eyes as she takes in everything I just said about her. Suddenly I watch as her eyes go from sad and conflicted to dark and angry.

"Get out," she says so quietly I wouldn't have heard her, had I not been so close to her.

"San," I start to say, rising slightly to take her into a hug.

"Get out," she repeats, louder this time, and pushes me away. She gets up, walking around me, and opens the door to her room. "I don't want you in my room. I want you to leave and never come back."

I take a deep breath, I know she doesn't mean what she's saying. "You don't mean that."

"I do. You don't think we should be together, that's fine, but don't act like you're doing this for me, to help me come to terms with who I am."

"You're angry and confused now, I get it, so I'm going to do what you ask me, and leave. Just know, I really do love you, Santana."

"Don't," she says with a bitterness I've never heard in her voice before.

I try to look her in the eyes one last time before leaving, catching a glimpse of her emotionless brown eyes before she looks away from me. I quickly make my way down the newly polished staircase, trying not to fall on my way down, while also trying to block out the sounds of Santana crying and yelling things in Spanish I never can understand. I close the large stained glass door behind me with a heavy thud, and sit down on the top step of the large front deck. It's not until I go to push my hair behind my ears that I realize my face is wet from my tears, though I have no idea who I am crying more for. Am I crying for Santana, who has the impossible task of coming out, or for myself for possibly just losing the only person I truly ever loved in my entire life.