A/N: Hey y'all! First time writing for the Glee fandom... so I hope my characterizations are okay :D
FYI: No beta...
Disclaimer: No. I do not own Glee. I am merely a little kid playing in her parents closet.
Brittany doesn't like to think of herself as clueless, rather just misinformed. But sometimes – and this happens a lot – she just doesn't get it. Whatever "it" is, anyway.
Like, she doesn't get why Quinn would be stupid enough to get pregnant their sophomore year.
Or, why physics has all of those really hard math equations.
Or, why Mr. Schue insists on giving quizzes at the start of every Spanish class – Brittany has a hard enough time with American… Spanish is like alien to her.
But most importantly, Brittany doesn't understand Mondays. Like it's not Friday, which is game day. Or like Thursday, which is glee practice. Or Tuesday, which is America's Next Top Model night. Or like Saturday, which is party night. Or Sunday, which is hangover day. Or even Wednesday, which is tanning day. Brittany never understood Monday's purpose until her junior year.
Lunch was the only time all the glee club members were together during normal school hours and somewhere between sectionals and the end of their sophomore year all twelve members had decided to eat lunch together. That fatefully normal day, though, Brittany wasn't really paying attention to what her friends were talking about – she thinks Kurt and Finn were fighting over some "step-brother TV schedule and Rachel wasn't shutting up about her trip to New York – her attention was focused on the oatmeal raisin cookie in her hand.
"Please B," Santana scoffed next to her. "That thing is filled with empty calories."
Brittany frowned. Of her limited vocabulary, "calories" was one word she had no trouble understanding.
"But it looks really good S," Brittany said with a slight longing in her voice.
Santana gives an exasperated eye-roll. "Yeah, well Coach Sylvester's scheduled a weigh-in today so it's on your tanning privileges."
Brittany sighed heavily but didn't stop staring at the cookie.
"The cookies are really good B." Brittany's eyes finally moved from the cookie to the speaker – Quinn. "Way better than Ms. Sylvester's 'master cleanse'," Quinn confided with a slight nod to the metal water bottle in front of Brittany.
Brittany gave Quinn a big smile before tearing the plastic covering the cookie. She ignored Santana's slight sneer and proceeded to bite off a bit of the cookie.
"That's like better than an orgasm," Brittany said in awe.
Quinn laughed quietly. "I don't know about that B, but they are good, aren't they?"
Brittany nodded, before she demolished the rest of the cookie until all that was left was crumbs. Brushing her hands on a napkin and wiping off the cookie crumbs on her Cheerios skirt, Brittany grinned in content.
"Best lunch yet S," Brittany told her best friend. "You should totally go up to one of those old ladies and buy one."
Santana just shook her head and sipped some "master cleanse".
When lunch was over and the twelve glee club members split up to go to class, Brittany realized that she missed a cookie crumb.
"I don't have all day to wait for your brain to remember how to walk B," Santana called out before she turned around to face Brittany, one hand on her hip. Brittany ignored Santana and remained frozen in place. "What's wrong?"
Brittany blinked owlishly, taking a few moments to reply. "I've got oatmeal in my pants S."
Santana groaned in annoyance before standing behind Brittany to push her down the crowded school hallway.
It's a rare occurrence that Brittany actually learns something useful at school, but she was glad that she finally understood something that day: There is a reason for Mondays after all.
Mondays were oatmeal raisin cookie day.
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