Santana paced around her bedroom, waiting for Quinn to show up. She had texted her about 10 minutes ago but it felt like hours. She needed advice, and she didn't know who else to call. Usually she would talk to Brittany. Her best friend always knew how to make her feel better. But today Brittany wouldn't be able to help.
Finally Quinn entered the room. They'd been friends for years; there was no need to knock on the front door. Santana's parents weren't home, anyway.
"Hey, San. What's up? Your text sounded pretty urgent." Santana sighed. She had sent Quinn a message saying, Need to talk. Come over NOW. But now that her friend was actually there, she didn't know if she could do it. She'd never had to do anything like this before, and she was terrified of how Quinn would react.
"Yeah, I… umm…" she stammered.
"And no offense or anything, but why aren't you talking to Britt about this?" The mention of Brittany made Santana choke up all over again. But she had to do it. She needed advice. Don't be a coward, she thought. You can do this. If she gets weird about it you can just go all Lima Heights on her ass. Santana took a deep breath.
"I can't talk to Brittany because this is about her."
"Umm, ok?" Santana sighed.
"So, you know how we sang Landslide today?" Quinn nodded, remembering her friends' tear-filled performance in the choir room with Miss Holiday. She had been wondering what that was about…
"I'm falling for her, Q." Even though she should've understood, Quinn was quite confused by the whole conversation.
"Wait, what? Brittany?" Santana ignored her confusion and just kept talking.
"No, that's not true. I'm done falling. I already fell. On my face. I love her. More than anything in the world." Santana buried her face in the hands. Quinn's perplexed expression turned into one of surprised. Because she was surprised. But maybe not that surprised. She had been seeing the signs for a while. She knew they'd been hooking up since the previous year. And Brittany seemed to be the only person who could calm Santana's fiery temper. There was also how Santana's expression always went softer around the girl, her jealousy around Brit and Artie, and that song in the choir room.
Come to think of it, what surprised Quinn the most was that she hadn't realized this sooner. Santana's feelings were pretty obvious.
Santana lifted her head, and her eyes were overflowing with tears. She looked at Quinn's face, and, instead of the judgment she had expected, she found a deep understanding.
Quinn watched as the usually strong and fierce Latina let herself go and cried. Quinn wrapped her arms around her friend.
"You need to tell her, Santana." Santana looked up at Quinn.
"But what if she doesn't love me back?" she whispered.
"We're the Unholy Trinity," Quinn said in response. "We can get through anything."