Summer before Junior Year

She was dancing.

Her hands ran through her blonde hair, her thin fingers ran down her face past her closed eyes, down to the scoop neck of her shirt. They ran sensually down her hips, to her legs. Her chest thrust with the bass, small beads of sweat glistened on her forehead. This was my B. This was the B I saw when I couldn't sleep, when I couldn't breathe, when all I could think about that I was in love with my best friend. Christ, could she make it any harder? Focus, San.

"Santana! I said, single or double shot? Are you even listening to me?" Puck was standing in front of me holding a bottle of vodka. I felt the bass and the beat in my chest, and my hooded eyes were struggling to focus on the talking mohawk in front of me. I tried to focus on Puck but I couldn't keep my attention away from Brittany for more than a few seconds. It's been so hard lately to focus, especially when she moves her body like that.

I feel arms around my waist and a chin on my shoulder. "Make it a double, Puck! Pour me one, too!" The slightly slurred voice of Quinn Fabray floated past my ear. Her hair tickled my cheek. I thought about how much I liked the new Quinn – post-babygate Quinn. Although we were "best friends" before, I seemed to hold her away so she could never get quite close enough to me. She treated me the same. Lately, she's been different. Her delusional worldview and intense need for popularity seemed to have cracked. She's pleasant, at least to her close friends. She even made a point to use Berry's real name. Sometimes.

Puck set out four tall shot glasses, sloppily pouring vodka into them. A new song came over the speakers. Loud, powerful bass struck through my chest and I watched the liquor vibrate in the glasses (what liquor Puck managed to get into them). Through the people, I saw a flip of blonde hair. It crossed my mind that Brittany's favorite song of the week was now playing. I was immediately drawn to her; I couldn't have changed the direction I was walking, even if I tried. "San!" Puck yelled from behind me. I held up a finger. I knew he loved watching me walk away. He knew I'd be back to gets my booze on.

She was standing facing away from me. Guys were dancing around her. Guys were always dancing around her. The beauty of Britt was that here, in her element, she was off in her own little world. I saw her body move with the beat. Her hands were back in her hair, running her blonde locks sexually over her face. I slipped closely behind her. The beauty of high school parties is that if I want to dance with her, I can. Two of the hottest cheerleaders next to each other dancing closely almost always got me free booze. Add Quinn into the mix, we could have whatever we wanted. Britt tensed up for a second as she felt hands sliding down her hips. She turned her head to look at who was behind her and smiled brightly at me. "San! I thought you were getting us drinks!" she spoke into my ear. God, this music was loud. I could barely hear her, and I pulled her closer to talk.

I brought my lips to her ear. "I did! Puck's pouring them now. Q's gonna take one with us – come back with me?" I held her hand in the air and led her to the kitchen. There are boys in jerseys around us, clinking their beers together. "Gonna be a show tonight, Santana? Did I have to pay at the door?" A football player yells towards us, laughing as he spoke. I saw them high five. Sometimes I liked to have fun with Britt at these parties. The booze started flowing, we were both free, and we would dance with each other or make out. Brittany didn't know how much I liked it. I held up my free hand in the air and stuck my middle finger in the air as we walked away.

As we entered the kitchen, Brittany bound away from me and latched on to Quinn. "Q! Taking shots from the shot fairy!" she stumbled, giggling in Quinn's ear. Quinn laughed. "Britt, let's get our drunk on." I watched my friends, grinning in my head. I've done some shitty things in my life, but how I ended up one corner of the unholy trinity, I'll never understand. How I ended up in love with another corner, I'm still working through that. It was getting harder and harder to shrug off these thoughts. I watched Brittany snake her hand holding her shot through Quinn's arm. "It's like our wedding shots! You drink mine, I'll drink yours!" she was giggling again, like it was the funniest thing in the world. I reminded myself how dangerous it is to have Puck as a bartender and mentally decided to keep an eye on my friends.

"To hot chicks and good booze!" Puck yelled, tossing back his vodka. I threw mine back. I've always been a straight, no chaser kind of girl. Although I'm certainly rethinking the straight part… I chuckled at my own internal joke. B and Q had managed to get most of the booze into their mouths, but Brittany had quite a bit down the front of her shirt. "San! I'm gonna smell like booze!" she said, as Quinn was laughing, clutching her stomach. I felt B slip her hand into my back pocket. God, she was flirty when she was drunk. I felt the familiar pinch in my stomach I felt any time she was this close.

Finn came lumbering up with Rachel under his arm. A very sober Rachel. I could tell because she had the wherewithal to smirk at all of us, especially at Quinn, still doubled over with laughter. I could tell Finn wasn't sure what to do. He wanted to drink and have fun, but he also wanted to get some… I could see the wheels working in his brain trying to figure out how to achieve both. Big oaf couldn't tell Rachel wasn't having fun. I almost shot her a sympathetic look. Instead, "Hi dwarfkins. Vodka shot?" came out of my mouth.

"Santana, I don't need to remind you that alcohol is bad for my singing voice. I must be on the top of my game if we're going to win Nationals this year." I knew she was still talking, but I had long stopped listening. Britt's other hand was resting on the top hem of my shorts, hovering above the button. I could feel her fingers on my bare stomach where my shirt had ridden up and her eyes on my lips. "Santana?" Berry was still talking to me. I scowled.

"Rupaul… I don't know what you're saying." Quinn giggled as I spoke. She may have been trying to turn over a new leaf, but she couldn't help but chuckle that the name she had exasperatedly thrown at Berry freshman year stuck so hard. Not sure what Quinn's problem was with the girl. It had just become something we did. She was annoying, sure, but she wasn't that bad. Rachel looked to Finn. "Let's go. I told my dads I would be home by 12." I looked at the clock on the wall. 11:45pm. Good timing, dwarf.

Puck high-fived Finn as he walked out towards the door. Dough nipples wasn't getting any tonight, that was for sure. Azimio and some football guys walked up to the island Puck was leaning on. "Let's get some drinking games going, man!" he yelled, smacking Puck on the back.

"Ladies choice!" Puck responded. Puck, always the lady pleaser. "Baby momma! Pick the game." He looked to Quinn. She deliberated for a second, mulling it over in her head. "Beer pong. You're going doooowwwnnn, Puck. Unholy trinity versus you and a friend, your choice. Stack 'em up!" Man, Q really was trashed. She hated beer. Wine coolers were always more her thing. Well, they were.

Azimio was high-fiving his buddies. Brittany was clapping excitedly, and I tried my best to maintain a smirk. "Where's Sam? Sam, my man, get over here." Puck dragged him over. "It's on!" Sam was pretty good at beer pong. There was a table behind Finn's garage that the boys had deemed the scoreboard – Sam and Puck had more points carved into that tabletop than anyone. Quinn wasn't far behind though. Surprising how that chick can be so good at beer pong.

I watched them set up the cups and shuddered, feeling Britt's hand on my bare back. She had slipped her hand under my shirt. She looked at me, trying to give me an innocent look. I know what she's thinking. We've had sweet lady kisses enough times for me to know what she wants. I just hoped she kept herself grounded long enough for us to win this game, leave this party, and collapse in my bed. Sometimes I let myself think that she wants us, that it isn't just a game to her, that it doesn't just feel good. That there are feelings for her, too. Sometimes I think otherwise. God, sometimes I think too much.

The game progressed excitedly. I wasn't Sam good at this game, but I could hold my own. B was a little too drunk to be incredibly useful to the team, with her throwing skills at least. Quinn must be some kind of hustler. How does she even get these skills? Not like you regularly practice beer pong-like talents. She's sunk three balls in a row, and the boys were greedily drinking their cups. Puck lofted a ping pong ball, sailing it right into the front cup. "Oh! Get it Sam, front cup, come on!" Puck smacked Sam on the back.

If there was anything Brittany knew how to do extremely well, it was be seductive. Quinn had taught her the basics of this game a few parties ago, and although she wasn't that great at tossing the balls in, she was AMAZING at defensive maneuvers. I looked over to see Brittany lower her chest to the front cup, scoop neck t-shirt falling. The view those boys must be getting… a shiver ran through my spine. Brittney is touching her chest now. "Come on, Sam. Right in the cup!" she teased. Puck's mouth was open. Sam was holding the ball in his hand, ready to throw. He swallowed a few times, and let it fly. It bounced off the table, past Brittany's giggling grasp.

The game went on in a heated fashion. Of course, it comes down to one cup each. My toss missed. Britt's missed. In true Quinn fashion, the ball hit the rim and went in. "Rebuttal! REBUTTAL!" Puck is yelling as if his manhood was at stake.

Sam missed his toss, almost hitting Quinn in the face. He sheepishly apologized from the other end of the table. Puck was stretching, shaking out his arms and looking like a fool. As if he were about to perform some kind of miracle. The boys surrounding the table were hooting and hollering, thinking Puck had it in the bag. Hoping that Puck had it in the bag. It felt like one of those cheesy moments in the movies where time slows down.

I look over and see B whisper something into Quinn's ear. I watch as Quinn giggles and pushes B towards me. She stumbles a bit, and I catch her. Brittany looks back over her shoulder to Q, who nods at her. God, she is so close. And she smells so good… I can't…" My thoughts are interrupted by her voice. She doesn't interrupt only me. Puck stops his preshot rituals to listen to her. Most guys had learned when B is intoxicated, she says something good… something worth listening to. "Think you can shoot through this, Puck?"

Everything is happening faster than my alcohol-dulled senses can even comprehend. Quinn is giggling and catcalling. The boys start to hoot at the same time I feel B's strong arms snake up my back, over my shoulders, and into my hair. She comes close enough to stare into my eyes, pleading, quickly asking for an okay, looking for anything in me that screams stop. There's screaming, Lopez. It isn't saying stop. I grin and pull my lip with my teeth. B takes this as all the okay that she needs. She slowly envelops my lips with hers. She bites onto my lower lip and I feel her fingers crawling on my scalp. The space between our hips is gone… she's in my space, I can smell her, feel her. My brain is nagging me through the fog of the booze. This doesn't feel like a kiss between best friends. I'm conscious of the way my heart is beating faster, my temperature rises, and the pinch returns. I push my thoughts back and deepen the kiss, putting my hands on her face. She breaks the kiss to drag her lips down to my neck… my eyes flutter. She knows she's moving towards that spot on my neck… oh God. I force my eyes open and turn to look at Puck. He's loosely holding the ball in his hands. I throw my hands up as if to say, bring it on, and watch as he awkwardly adjusts himself before he tries to refocus. With one final glance at B, who's nibbling on my earlobe, he tosses the ball. B bites down, one more time, before sliding away from me. I see her smoldering stare before she turns completely away. She meant for me to see it.

The ball sailed and circled the rim of the cup. What would this game be without some excitement? Quinn is there in seconds, blowing into the cup. Foam from the beer is on her nose, but the ball is rolling across the table. The few girls that had been watching the game cheered, the boys groaned, and Puck sunk to his knees in mock defeat. I watched B swipe the foam from Quinn's face with her finger. It seemed flirtatious to me. This was why I fought myself about reading into B. I just don't know.

Puck stands and comes to hug Q. With an arm around her shoulders, he grabs the cup from the table and downs it. "Baby mama, that was hot. You can be on my team anytime." Quinn laughs and continues speaking to Puck. The boys had dispersed, many going back to watch the ladies on the dance floor. I feel a tug at my pinkie. B is taking me over to the dance floor… I watch her walk in front of me. Her hips are swaying… she knows I'm watching. Two can play at this. I reached forward and playfully cupped her ass.

She reached her desired spot on the floor and turned towards me. I loved looking into her crisp blue eyes. I loved dancing with her any way, but I especially liked when she faced me. I became distinctly aware of the ebb and flow of the bass, but not only because I could hear and feel it. I could see it. I could see B embody the music. I could see her start to move with the music in the most sensual way. I can dance, but what Brittany does isn't just dance, though, it's fluid movement. She is the music. And God, it makes you feel the music. We weren't dancing incredibly close, but she was dancing with me. A guy came up; I think he was from the polo team. I glared at him. He leaned over to speak in B's ear. Back off, asshole.

I watched as B laughed and spoke back to him. He made a face, but walked away with a complaint. B sidled up to me, closer than before. She laced her hands around my waist and pulled our hips together. I could feel her breath on my neck. "What'd you say, B?" I said to her. How did she let him down so smooth? Her breath was now tickling my ear… I swear I felt her tongue slip across my earlobe. "I told him I was already dancing with the hottest person in the room." Her face pulled away just as my heart was melting. Be cool, Lopez. Jesus, be cool.