Britt's POV
Dancer. I would love to make a career out of it but people think I'm not good enough. Even my parents. They think that I'm stupid. I'm not. I just gave up a long time ago. Gave up on trying because no one wants to listen.
My parents have given me no support. They have given me nothing. I am not who they think I am. I told them I liked girls and they told me to leave. So I started my car and left. I got a text two hours later saying they wanted to talk to me. They told me as long as I never bring up my sexuality again, never bring a girlfriend over and never marry a girl they will let me live at their home. But what they didn't mention is that they have no intention of acknowledging me as an equal or a human being. They just wanted to shut me out all together. They wanted to forget who I was... More like "what." So I gave up.
I graduated middle school, started high school. A month after high school started I was introduced to guys. So I started sleeping around, I started trying to forget. Trying to forget my sexuality. Forget the temptation and the alluring of women. Three months later, at a Halloween party, I met Charlie and I thought he was... interesting. He was cute and all that jazz but I was not sexually attracted in anyway. Of course I wasn't... He had a penis after all. But when he asked me out the next day... I gave in and said yes. I admit, I was using him. Using him for my own sheer need to feel accepted by society. By my family. I took him around my family as often as I could. My parents fell in love with him. They thought he was great, but they only cared that he was a guy. I made up for using him by giving him sex. Any kind he wanted. It was another selfish act though. It was for me to feel better. To make me feel like I wasn't taking everything from him and giving him nothing. I was... okay. Not happy. Not depressed. Just... okay. At least... I thought I was. Until I met Santana. Then... Fate took back control.
It was after school. I was into my second year of high school. I was a sophomore. I was staying for cheer-leading when I saw Santana. It was raining and I was waiting for Charlie to give me a ride. I was playing my iPod. I remember very clearly the dance moves. Hip dig. Foot right, quick back. I remember the beat. That's the interesting thing about music... It sticks with me. If only school could stick with me the way music did.
I remember seeing Santana, standing at the end of the hallway. She was watching me. Scanning me. Like she was trying to memorize me. She watched my hip movement and style. She walked towards me. But I was so busy watching my feet that I didn't notice. She stood five feet away. Breathing me in. I could feel it.
"Trying to make me hot? Or was it just an accident?" She said laughing.
I remember looking at her. Hispanic and feisty. I could see the fire coursing through her by her just standing there.
"When you ever want to give a private show..." She winked. "Let me know." She then walked away. And when she did... I knew one thing. I had to have her.