"Hurts, doesn't it?"
A sharp sniff could be heard as she shifted her eyes away from the girl. "What?"
" It hurts. To watch her dancing with someone else."
" She's a dancer. That's what dancers do, genius."
" Yeah... You can try to act like it doesn't faze you, Santana, but I've been there. I know what you're going through."
She spun the lower half of her body on the piano bench to face him. "Okay, first of all, whatever the hell you're alluding to, don't. And secondly don't even try to relate to me. We will never have anything in common, cyborg. Got it?"
He gave an understanding nod as he adjusted his grip on his wheels.
"You can pretend if you want, but you and I both know the truth."
Santana looked away again, unwilling to let her classmate see the shimmering in her eyes.
"You're just as handicapped as I am. But you are partly right though. We're very different in one sense. People pity a boy in a wheelchair. No one feels sorry for a bitch."
Her head snapped back in his direction with a sharp glare and furrowed brows on her face. She was still a few inches taller than him, even in a seated position, but he didn't flinch.
"And we will forever have one thing in common. Her happiness. I ruined my chance to provide her with it. And from the look on your face, looks like you missed yours too."
It seemed as if he wanted to continue but thought better of it as the mask on the young girl's face melted into a defeated frown. She turned her back to him, refusing to acknowledge his presence any longer.
"I didn't come over here to attack you, Santana. I just wanted to let you know that it's okay, you know, to… feel."
He waited for a response that she was obviously not going to give him before he wheeled himself back to the other side of the room. Her gaze was once again captivated by the twirling slender body of the blonde physically just fifteen feet away from her but an entire universe away emotionally. She winced as the memory of the previous night crept into her mind.
/ / /
They hadn't spoken a word to each other in school in days. Neither of them willing to end the cold war. But every night was a repeating cycle of self therapy. The young blond girl sat in her backyard with her knees pulled up to her chest. She was great at putting on a show in public but her pain was overwhelming on the lonely nights.
"There's nothing unfamiliar about this at all. Even when it's an entirely new experience, she always makes me feel like we've been down this road a hundred times. But she said it. She finally said the words. I've known it was true but to hear her say it… and I watched her walk away from me. What was I supposed to do? She said it herself; she's still not ready. And now she's with Karofsky? It isn't fair, O. I deserve better than that, right? Then why does my heart hurt so much? Why do I feel so alone? Why does my hand feel so empty without hers in it?"
She fell back in the grass, her eyes still on the constellation of the mighty hunter. The fingers of her right hand tangled themselves in the cool blades of grass as she felt a tear roll down the side of her face and into her hair. She laid there gripping the grass tightly as she held her left hand firmly against her stomach and silently cried out her heartache.
"I love her, O. Tell her I love her."
"I don't get it, Britt."
"What are you trying to get?"
"Talking to Orion the hunter. I mean, he can't talk back so what's the point?"
Hand and hand, bodies stretched out in identical positions, they stared off into the cosmos the summer before their freshman year of high school. Brittany's smile was light and genuine.
"I can't explain it San, but it's nice to just have someone to talk to. Someone that listens without judging, I guess."
"But that's what you have me for."
The pale girl shrugged the shoulder of the arm that held her friend's hand.
"Maybe."
Santana's head turned to seek out Brittany's face in the dark.
"Maybe? You think I judge you?"
Brittany was still in a blissful trance as she answered the question of the offended teen.
"Course not. I just mean he's always there. He's always gonna be there, I think. Stars and stripes are forever, right? I like having someone to hold all my messages in case I never get to travel around the universe to deliver them myself."
Santana voiced her resignation with an audible sigh as she turned her head back to the sky.
"Well, you'll always have me too, you know. I'm not going anywhere, space cadet."
Brittany squeezed Santana's hand in approval.
"If I'm the cadet, you can be the captain."
The darker girl squeezed back.
The slightest twinkle caught Santana's eye as she faced the sky. She traced the form with her eyes as she brought her hands slowly down to the railing in front of her. She tightened her eyes to narrow slits as she tried to stare down the constellation.
"What the hell am I doing! I'm seriously having a staring contest with a freaking cluster of stars. You don't even have eyes! Jesus Chr… Look, bud. I don't know how this works. I'm supposed to talk to you and that makes everything better? I told her I love her and she loves me too. I'm IN love with her. But we're best friends. Best FREAKING friends. Nothing more. So you tell me how you're gonna make that better."
She let a minute pass.
"I'm waitinnnngggg …"
She could feel her eyes misting again as she dropped her face into her hands.
"This is beyond ridiculous. Pleading with a figment of Britt's imagination…"
She gave him one last glance. One last hope. One last prayer.
"So… are there like… any messages for me or something?"