Author's Note:
This is a sequel to my other story – You Hope It's Not The Last Time.
Canon to 4x17, this picks up in the fall of 2013.
Will be a series of looks into Brittany's and Santana's lives during the upcoming years.
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.
Los Angeles, august 2013:
"I can't believe she didn't tell me!"
Your cheeks are burning, more from anger than exhaustion or the scorching, late-summer sun. You feel stupid, and weirdly betrayed even though you know you have no right. You were with Sam back then, but still. You hate that you apparently are the last one to find out, when it comes to Santana, it's always been the other way around and you don't like the change, at all.
"She probably thought you knew already," Mercedes pants, chugging from a water bottle.
It's becoming a routine of yours, to meet up for a jog whenever your classes and her work schedule matches. It's nice to hang out with someone you know well, to let down your guard a little. Not that you're a guarded person in general, but still.
College is a lot of new to get used to in a very short time.
The fact that Mercedes was the one to suggest you work out together surprised you, you still remember how much she disliked booty camp back in senior year. First senior year that is. But a year in LA has toned down her sass a little, she's still very much independent woman, but a bit more humble.
Part of you thinks she suggested running for your sake, because she knows that you love it, but also that you easily get lost in new places. You're trying to learn your way around LA, but it takes time, and Mercedes is nice company.
"Yeah, well, I didn't know. And after the shit she gave me for not telling her about Sam right away I never thought she'd do the same thing to me," you snap.
"Girl, I know, it was a lousy thing to do but I promise you, it meant nothing to either of them. I'm one hundred percent sure."
"But still! Quinn. She's supposed to be one of my best friends too, but she didn't say anything either."
"Yeah, but that's Quinn for you. Maybe she had a goody-two-shoes relapse and got all ashamed or something? She wouldn't be the first girl in history to gay panic."
Ouch. That one hit a bit too close to home. Mercedes probably realized that too because she looks at you apologetically.
"Sorry, I didn't mean it like that," she apologizes.
"No, I know, it's cool. And whatever gay panic Quinn had I think she's over that by now," you say with a satisfied smirk.
Mercedes picks up on your tone immediately and steps closer, putting her hands on her hips.
"What? Brittany, I'm telling you, if you know something I don't, you better spill. Now."
"Who knows what I know," you laugh. "I ain't telling, you've gotta catch me first," you tease and start running again, Mercedes' protests drenched in the sound of rubber soles on gravel.
-#-#-#-#-#-
You skip out on a dinner with some of your dorm mates that night and skype her instead. She has one of her rare nights off and you worry a little because she looks so tired. But then again, it could be the webcam's fault.
"Santana," you say quietly after maybe ten minutes of small talk that had the extra spice of Kurt and Rachel occasionally shouting stuff to you from somewhere in the loft.
"Brittany?" she questions back and you push away the anxious frustration and decide to just ask her.
"Why didn't you tell me that you slept with Quinn?"
She turns silent.
There are a lot of different silences, and this is one of the most uncomfortable ones you and Santana has ever shared. It reminds you of sophomore year, after your accidental phone slip-up that had Santana realizing that you both had to be more discrete if you wanted to keep the details of your friendship private. All those afternoons and evenings spent in her or your room, cuddling and making out, all the times you casually tried to ask her out on dates, knowing that you'd be turned down even before you opened your mouth.
Santana looks away, scratches her head, and her entire body language (or her head and shoulders – that's as much as you can see) screams uncomfortable.
"I'm not angry," you continue. "I just wondered why you didn't say anything. You must have known I'd find it out eventually. Puck, Tina and Mercedes are the worst gossips ever you know."
"It didn't mean anything," she mumbles after a minute of silence. She looks at you through the screen as if she wants you to reply, but you don't say anything.
"Brittany, I'm sorry you found out like this but it was a random hookup that never would have happened if we both weren't so miserably lonely at the time. And I wanted to tell you in person, but when should I have done that? Graduation day?" Her voice is a little sharper on the last two words, like a mixture of a scolding and a joke, wordlessly pointing out the fact that you haven't seen each other in person since, and also hinting at the way you left your relationship, or whatever it is.
You feel your cheeks heat up little, you certainly wouldn't have had time for this conversation on graduation day, or the day after. You chuckle lightly and Santana almost breaks out in a smile, seemingly sure that you're not mad, and you aren't. It's just that this is one thing in a row of many small things that confirms the fact that you and Santana are slowly, but inevitably drifting apart. And despite everything, despite the distance and the history, you don't want that to happen.
"I wish we could have seen each other more in the summer," you say, in a roundabout way trying to change the subject again.
"Me too Britt, but sometimes the timing's just off, you know."
You nod twice.
It feels like a raincloud has drifted in and parked above you and it's disturbing. You're talking to her, not just texting, for the first time in weeks and you don't know what to say. There are a thousand things you could tell her about college and classes and hanging out with Mercedes, Tina and Puck, but you don't know where to begin. Everything suddenly feels uninteresting when you say it to yourself in your head, so why should Santana care?
A completely different thing pops up in your head and you smirk at webcam-Santana who tilts her head the way she always does when she wonders stuff.
"What are you thinking of B?"
"Oh, nothing," you say slyly.
"Come on, I know that face. Your mind is halfway in the gutter already. Spill."
"What did Rachel say when she found out that you hooked up with Quinn before her?"
Santana makes a disgusted face and shudders.
"Nah, not much. She was really snarky towards me, but I didn't figure out why until we busted them on graduation. Back then I just thought it was PMS or something."
"So what's going on with them now," you ask. "I haven't heard from Quinn in ages."
"Well, unpleasantly enough I have. Turns out Little Miss Celibacy Club is a screamer," Santana sighs.
"What, no way?!"
Santana frowns even more. "Yeah, unfortunately. Quinn was here two weekends ago, and when I got back from work one night I got to hear a lot of stuff I never want to relive again. I think I might be scarred for life," she sighs dramatically.
You laugh out loud then, because her offended pout is way too adorable.
"Britt, it's not funny. We live on a loft. We have one door – that leads to the bathroom – and headphones can only drown out so much."
"It's just.. I think it's karma," you giggle.
"What, no! I totally haven't deserved this," Santana objects.
"Come on San, there's no way we haven't kept Quinn awake in the past. Cheer camp, Glee competitions? Do you really think she sleeps that heavy?"
Santana doesn't say anything.. just blushes and glares at you through the screen.
"Whatever. It's not like we were that loud when others were nearby," she mutters after a little while.
You smile at her, nodding. "Whatever helps you sleep at night Santana," you tease.
At that, Santana yawns, and you look at the clock, horrified when you realize it's after midnight in New York.
"S, you should go to sleep, you look like you need it."
"Yeah, I guess. It was nice talking to you though. And I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, it honestly didn't mean anything."
"Santana, it's okay. I'm not mad, it just felt weird when I got to hear it from Mercedes."
"Good," she smiles.
"Sweet dreams, Santana. Talk to you soon."
"You to Britt. I.. um.. bye."
The screen goes black and you stare at it, longingly. You didn't miss how she had corrected herself, how she almost said I love you.
You have no idea what to think of that. Was it just a habit, or would she have meant it?
Thoughts?
Also: Thanks to everyone who read, faved and reviewed my other story. I hadn't planned to make a sequel but I got inspired.
Until next time.