Part 1: [Kids in Love]
You let her go. Well more like you don't do anything and she gets tired of waiting for something that isn't going to happen.
You don't go to senior prom because she will be there and be all happy and not with you. So instead you opt to stay home and play call of duty for eight hours straight before your legs start cramping and you're forced to get up.
Senior year is nothing noteworthy is just the same old same old. And then you find yourself sitting in your bedroom alone holding five acceptance letters in your hand: Ohio State, Northwestern, UC Berkeley, Columbia, and NYU.
Tomorrow is D-day (decision day) and you still have yet to decide. Everyone else in glee club already has their plans mapped out.
Rachel, Kurt, and oddly Quinn are going to New York, Rachel to Julliard, Kurt and Quinn to NYU. Finn and Puck ended up at OSU with Mercedes. Artie is off to Carnegie Mellon. Mike and Tina are heading off to USC and UCLA respectively.
The one thing that's keeping you from deciding where you're going to go is Brittany. You have no idea where Brittany is going or even where she got in because you two haven't really sat down to have a chat in close to a year now (sure you greeted each other and talked to each other when you had to, but you hadn't engaged in a true conversation).
That whole situation makes you feel weird and empty but you're thinking that maybe it was for the best that you two never got together.
Your parents who had been pretty hands-off were each pushing their own agendas. Your dad wanted you to go to either Columbia or NYU to experience the big city life and get out of the Midwest. Your mom was adamant that you choose Northwestern so that her baby girl wouldn't be so far away.
You had this conversation with them over dinner one night after all the acceptances had come in and you'd narrowed it down to these five as your top choices (OSU was only there as a comfort thing. Or at least that's what you told yourself).
It had been a fairly lively dinner with the Lopez clan, a rare time when they were all together having dinner, when your mom had started in on the bullshit, saying that Northwestern would be a better place to find a good looking husband, with your father vehemently disagreeing saying that New York ensured more diversity in the suitor pool.
You're not sure what possessed you to yell; "I'm a lesbian" at the top of your voice but it got both of them to shut up at least for a minute. Then they went at it again arguing about which city would have the hotter girls.
It amazed you actually.
You couldn't have asked for a better reaction seeing as your parents had both grown up Spanish Catholic.
Later, when your dad is at the hospital, you tell your mom again and she just hugs you and tells you that she's always kind of known.
A new text message breaks you out of your thoughts.
It's Quinn, "Have you decided yet? Rachel wants a complete list. Britt is going to Julliard by the way."
In that instant when you read that text you know exactly where you are going.
"Santana chose Berkeley?"
"Yeah I know."
"I mean don't get me wrong Berkeley is great but I'd thought she'd want to be near her, so that they could smooth things over."
"I know. Me too. I thought for sure they'd be in the same city at the very least."
You sigh as you listen to everyone in glee trying to decipher your decision, mostly because you know that everyone knows you made it based on where Britt decided to go. And everyone now knows that you chose to be across the country from her.
Honestly, you want a clean slate away from high school. You want to be able to recreate yourself and figure stuff out by yourself. You don't want to have the love of your life dangling in front of your eyes potentially clouding your decisions. Granted that Brittany has never clouded your judgment but you just want to be able to do something for you without all the undertones and established relationships. You don't want comfort. You're trying to throw yourself into the world and see what you can make of yourself. You're trying to grow up.
The school year ends quicker than you could have imagined and soon you're sitting in the last glee club rehearsal of the year. Fresh off the win at nationals, everyone is in good spirits. Then Brittany corners you, yearbook in hand with a half-smile gracing her face and you force a smile back at her before taking her yearbook and simultaneously handing her yours. Then you stare at the blank page she's reserved for you and ponder what exactly to write. Soon enough it all comes spilling out.
Britt Britt,
I love you. Don't ever doubt that.
This past year has been weirder and harder than I would have ever imagined.
Without you at my side, school and the world just look so lonely. I know you and everyone else are wondering why I chose Berkeley when I could have chosen Columbia or NYU and been in the same city as you.
I have to figure myself out first. I have to figure out who I am independent of everyone who has known me for my entire life. I need a new slate, a fresh start.
I need to accept that I am a lesbian. I may have already admitted it to you, myself, and my parents but I don't think I've fully and truly accepted that part of myself.
I'm not stupid enough to ask that you wait for me. You'll have a hundred suitors begging for a chance with you by the time you touch down in New York. You'll take the dance world by storm and you will be successful at whatever you decide to do with that. I believe in you.
Maybe this message in your yearbook is a year too late. Maybe what I'm about to stand up and do isn't enough. I don't care. I'm taking slow steps towards you, towards holding your hand, towards kissing you again.
You, Brittany, are my goal. You are why I get out of bed in the morning, why I sing, why I live. Without you I am just another person, with you, I feel invincible.
So all I ask is that you find your happiness, whether that be with someone else or not. I just want you to be happy. Good luck in New York next year! And don't let any ever tell you that you can't or that you're stupid. Just know that I believe in you, whatever you're doing.
I will never give up on you. I don't know where the paths in our lives will take us, but I'd like to think that we will meet up again, somewhere, somehow.
Yours infinitely,
S.
With that written, you glance up at that blonde with a sad smile on your face as you make your way to the front of the room.
"I'd like to make an announcement."
Your mouth seems to move independent of the rest of your body. But you let it. Your eyes sweep over the now quiet and still room before settling on those blue eyes.
"I know that over the four years of high school, and probably even before that, I've been a real bitch to all of you. I always just said hurtful things that were just caricatures of the truth, if not completely made up. I took pleasure in hating you and making you hate me too. Except that then I joined Glee, and I realized that you didn't hate me; you just pitied me, with a little hatred on the side."
You're shifting your weight from your left foot to your right foot. You can't seem to get comfortable. Your palms are sweating, but it's the last day. You've got to do this.
"I just…First of all I'm sorry that I ever did all of that to any of you. None of you deserved it. Truth is… I was scared. I hid behind my words and my actions, but ultimately I still didn't get what I wanted. Or what I thought I wanted."
You pause, gathering your thoughts for the final part of this speech that you practiced so hard in the mirror in your room last night. You know that this final part is only two words, but that may be hardest part.
"I'm gay."
Your mouth spouts the words before your brain even has a chance to process it.
In a millisecond Brittany has jumped up to hug the life out of you, whispering about how proud she is. She hands you over to Quinn who just smiles. Puck gives you a thumbs up, Mercedes manages to squeal a 'Hell yes Satan', Mike, Tina, and Artie smile and nod in acknowledgement.
You're standing in front of the Glee Club with Brittany's arms wrapped around your shoulders and Quinn's arms around your waist.
Nothing ever felt more right.