Note: I've never published to this site before, but why the heck not? Be gentle reviewers!
I own nothing other than my interpretation of the Gleeniverse. I did not create these characters nor their epic love.
Embarrassing spelling and typographical errors, sadly, all mine. Love this ship.
Go Big and Go Home
Chapter 1
The night Tina called to mention that my Britt Britt was "dating" Sam I immediately changed his contact picture in my phone. It used to be a glamour shot of his rather bodacious bottom that he had taken and saved himself. We were at Breadsticks, right after he and I had started hooking up, and I left my phone on the table when I went to the ladies room to reapply my lipstick - or was I gossiping with Britt? She was sitting on the other side of the restaurant with Artie, I think. I don't remember. I don't really care actually. But the next day when Sam called to ask for me for my Spanish homework, a lovely picture of his lovely posterior greeted me on my phone. I laughed so hard that I spit my latte across the table at the Lima Bean and all over Brittany. Oh Sam. He wasn't always an idiot.
But when Tina info-bombed me with conformation that Britt was playing dumb and dumber with that imbecile, who was still too lazy to do his own homework, mind you, I wanted to cut a bitch. Since I couldn't, I Googled "baboon ass", downloaded the image that looked the most like flapjack face's epic maw and updated the contact for my own amusement. It was completely appropriate and in some strange, twisted, absurd way made me feel less like my stomach was going to fall out of my body and more like I still had the upper hand, which obviously I did not.
That said I've always known that in the big picture Sam is harmless. He was never clever enough to actually win Brittany's heart. I knew I had that shit on lock down. But I still couldn't shake the image of his humungous lips slobbering Brittany's collarbones, Brittany's ears, Brittany's… like a labrador retriever puppy that hadn't grown into its humungous face yet. I mean she HATES sloppy kisses. I know this. I mastered the exact tongue lip nibble ratio necessary to make Brittany squeal, because I had to. Brittany might be quirky, but if she's anything, she's particular and kisses that leave puddles are not at all sexy in the book of Britt. I know. I helped her write it.
So the whole time I have been in New York I have tried to make sense of this mess and why she practically shoved me out the door and stayed with Sir-Lips-A-lot because he "made her feel smart'? I've been telling Brittany for years that she's a flipping genius because she is. Brittany sees and comprehends the world in such a genuinely unique and special way. In the one class I actually enjoyed in Louisville we learned about the Theory of Multiple Intelligences and there it was, Bam! Brittany Susan Pierce, the love of my life and mother of my unborn children, was a fucking genius of the most non-traditional kind. If she had been talking to me at the time I would have been so excited to tell her about it. But no, I'm the moron who refused to pick up the phone and try to keep the promise we made when we said we'd stay friends. It was too sad. And I was so wrapped up in my guilt from the "energy exchange" in the library that I was hiding from Britt while Sam was weaseling his way into her everyday rhythm. I wasn't being a terribly good friend so swimming-in-the-sea-faced Sam moved right on in.
Maybe its because he has the IQ of a Pop Tart and spends his time chasing Blaine around in a super hero cape and acting like a nine year old trying to solve crimes that she finds charming. They have playfulness in common which at best is kinda cute, but I can't imagine any real passion there. I mean really? I can't help but think that in some way they got together because neither of them could be with me. I know, I know, I'm not the center of the universe. But I am the center of theirs. I am the passion! At least I used to be.
I dumped Trouts to be with Britt. And he was like, "Wowah you guys are like lezzies or something? Can I watch? Finn said once you offered to let him watch." He thought Britt and I were some kind of joke, or some kind of thing to turn him on. And we were like, in unison, "Um, no." And I thought to myself that sophomore or even early junior year we would have let him watch and it would have been funny. But senior year was different. Things got different. Things got, like intense. Like for real. Sharing was no longer and option.
Needless to say things between the oral vacuum and I haven't been the same since. Maybe he would hate me less if I had jumped at the chance for him to watch Britt and I get it on. Maybe I would hate him less if he didn't court Brittany by leaving a trail of Cheerios on the filthy McKinley floor and he treated her like a person, not Barbie doll arm candy. But let's just say that seeing that monkey sphincter light up my phone this morning first made me laugh all over again, but also made my heart start to race. A teeny part of me hoped Britt would be on the line. Maybe she called me from his phone because she'd left hers in the locker room, or dropped it in the toilet again, or maybe it was stolen by a new foreign exchange student, or Figgie started enforcing the no cell phone ban and confiscated it. But no. It wasn't Brittany and it wasn't bass-face's bodacious bottom pocket dialing me in error. It was Sam and he sounded terrified.
Maybe it was wrong of him to call me. Maybe I'm crazy to think she will even want to see me. Maybe her acting out is a function of something that has nothing to do with me. Or Sam. Maybe she's just going to push me away again. Maybe this ten-hour overnight train would be less terrifying if I could stop my mind from playing the last four years of my life on repeat and I could finally get some sleep.