She files into the bleachers filled with a sufficient amount of parents and students (freshman, mostly) and runners all milling around. Tossing her hair over one shoulder, she takes a seat right in the front row, folding her hands and bobbing her knees. She can see a huddle of athletes stretching out on the field. All clad in red and white sleeveless shirts and red running shorts that never fit anyone the right way, they slowly move away to take their positions. She scans the crowd, and finds a speck of blond hair popping out over the rest.
"Ah, Britts." she thinks to herself. She can see Brittany step-stretching, pulling her knee up to her chest with every step she takes before jogging over to the starting line on the track and taking her respectable place in the 5th heat of the 100m sprint. She shakes her body out and takes to chatting with a girl behind her. The first gunshot blows for the starting heat and Brittany jumps, always getting startled no matter how many times she hears the gunshot fire blank. Santana chuckles and stands up to lean up against the railing of the bleachers. She can see Brittany shake hands with the runner next to her, wishing her well.
"Runners on your marks," the official says, as he looks down to the finish line. Brittany shakes herself out one more time and puts her right foot just shy of the starting line, knees bent, and the other leg behind her. She sets up her arms; left elbow touching her rib cage, right hand grazing her pockets. She blows on her bangs. Santana chuckles a bit again, but narrows her eyes and smiles. "She'll win this one, easy." she says to herself.
"Get set..." and Santana looks across the row, waiting for someone to step out before the gun. But then they all do. Gun fired, she can see them coming up the straight, their feet digging into the rubber track.
"Those spikes better do Britt some good." Santana thinks. She hears herself cheering. Screaming and shouting like a lunatic. Brittany keeps back a few feet behind the third runner, waiting for the others to exert themselves. That's what she's always saying to Santana when they find themselves at the track on Sundays, timing sprints...or so they say. By the time the starting leader of the pack gets halfway through the sprint she's slowing, and Brittany is speeding up. Santana is cheering louder now. So loud, she thinks she might be disrupting the peace or something. Brittany's in third, second, and steps over the finish line neck at neck with another girl.
They line up for times. She's got a time of 11.37, a new personal best. Santana whoops loudly and Brittany's looks up, but then looks back down. Oh wait! Her head snaps back up and she grins and waves wildly at Santana, propped up in the stands waving back at her. With a thumbs up, Santana points back to the officials so they can see who won. Brittany nods and she wins by the tip of her nose. Second place has a time of 11.33. Brittany fists her hands and pulls her arms towards her, hissing a joyful "yes" and skips off the track. Santana clomps down the bleachers, her flip flops hitting the metal with a satisfying smack. Brittany jogs over to her and tackles her in a hug. The brown-haired girl grabs onto the fence so as not to fall over. She pulls away and touches her lips to Brittany's after muttering a simple "Hi babe". She pulls a bottle of water out of her purse and uncaps it, handing it to Brittany who gulps it down quickly.
"Good job out there. New personal best." Santana says, pushing Brittany's wet bangs off of her forehead. The blond nods feverishly between chugs of cold water. Her cheeks are bright red and her neck glistens with sweat. She is always overheating so easily. Santana pulls the tie out of Brittany's drooping ponytail before putting it back in a high bun to let her cool off. The blond chucks the empty bottle in a trash bin and takes her hand, intertwining their fingers, and moves over towards to snack bar. Brittany collapses onto a picnic table and lets out a sigh. But she doesn't sit on the bench. She crawls on top of the table and lays face down.
"I now claim this as my throne." she mumbles, her voice muffled by the wood of the table. Santana laughs and nudges Brittany's legs with her foot.
"Is it dead?" she asks jokingly.
"It most certainly is." Brittany replies, rolling over onto her back and sticking her tongue out of the side of her mouth like they used to when they were kids. It was the universal sign of a dead person. Santana lets out a hearty chuckle.
"Oh I hope not. I was planning on celebratory Breadstix and a wonderful at-home screening of Little Rascals." she says
"Breadstix is all for you." Brittany says, picking her head up off the table before falling back onto it.
"Don't pretend you don't like it. You're just mad that they stop bringing you Shirley Temples after you've already had 7." Santana says playfully, walking over to where Brittany's head lays on the other side of the table.
"There's never a reason to stop drinking Shirley Temples. It's just ungodly." Brittany says, furrowing her eyebrows and crossing her arms over her chest.
"Oh look at the poor little honey. What's she to do?" Santana says in a mock tone. She brushes blond hair off of Brittany's forehead, and plants a kiss there, the skin all salty and damp. Brittany scrunches up her nose and Santana can't help but kiss there too. She's close enough to her lips now, so why not a kiss on the lips too. Brittany brings her hands up to place one on each of Santana's cheeks.
"I love you." Santana says.
"I love you too. Loads and loads." Brittany replies. They both smile.
"So how about them Breadstix?" Santana says with a cocked eyebrow.
A booming voice crackling from the speakers interrupts them.
"All long jumpers to the pit! And would the 400m runners please go to the starting line."
"Later." Brittany says, pecking Santana's lips, "Gots to get my long jump on" She rolls off the table, smoothly sticking the landing. She begins to jog away.
"Wait Britt!" Santana says and she sprints over to her girl a couple yards away. She pushes those damn blond bangs behind Brittany's ears and plants a kiss firmly on her lips. "Good luck."
"Thank you San." she says and kisses Santana once more on the cheek before sprinting away, not wanting to miss her event. "I love you loads!" she tosses over her shoulder with a wave.
"Sure do!" Santana says back, waving even though Brittany's back is to her. She sees Brittany hold a thumbs-up over her head as she continues towards the sand pit for her jump.