My life is fucked three ways from Sunday. I've got this endless nervous churning in my gut and my brain actually hurts. And now, as if all the crazy hasn't been hard enough to manage, I'm being forced to sit here and watch Quinn make lovey dovey eyes at man-child Finn while singing backup on "True Colors." No matter how focused I try to stay on looking straight ahead and oohing in key, I can't miss her eyes staring right past me at Frankenteen. It's so frustrating I could scream.

Instead, I grab Brittany's hand as soon as the song finishes and head straight for the Cheerios locker room to change for practice. As soon as we get to her locker, she turns and smirks at me knowingly. I feel her hand grab a fistful of my shirt and I let her pull me against her without a fight. Normally I'd be completely freaking out about someone seeing, but right now I just need something. I tilt my head up to hers and capture her lips with mine. I squeeze my eyes tight and press her against the locker when her mouth moves against mine. We break away after a long moment and I back away from her, my usual fear finally catching up to me.

"San…" She's looking at me sympathetically.

"I'm fine," I say airily, trying to convince us both. "Thank you…for that." Ugh. I sound so incredibly awkward. I need to get my shit together.

Brittany chuckles and shakes her head me, her eyes squinting as if she can't figure me out.

"It's not exactly a chore, Santana. I love our sweet lady kisses. Plus, it always seems to make you feel better when you get upset, and that makes me happy too. I'm like, your remainder or something."

"My remainder?" Usually I get Britt's weirdly brilliant metaphors, but this one goes over my head.

"You know, like when you do long division and you get your answer but it's not perfect so you have a remainder," she says, her right shoulder lifting in a shrug, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

I mull this over while I start opening my locker, bothered by the implication that Brittany is the leftover at the end of the equation.

"Maybe you're the answer," I say without looking away from my locker.

"I'm definitely an answer, just not yours."

Britt is already changing, but I can tell in a glance that her face is smooth and calm. She's not upset by her words in the least, while I feel like a storm is brewing inside of me that I'm sure is reflected by my expression. I look back to my locker and start pulling out my uniform. When I turn back around, Britt is completely dressed in her Cheerios uniform and is straddling the bench, just watching me.

"What?"

Brittany rolls her eyes at me.

"Nothing, I just have to look at you really hard to figure out what you are thinking. If you want to tell me instead, I won't have to watch you so closely."

I sigh heavily and start changing, needing a distraction to be able to talk to her about this.

"I just don't really know what to do with that, Britt. I don't want you to feel like you're my remainder. Why can't you be my answer?" I'm afraid I know why, and I'm afraid she's going to say it out loud now. I silently curse myself for asking that question, as if she could somehow just make herself my answer to make it easier for me.

"You already have an answer, San. Maybe someday your problem will change, so you'll end up with a different answer. But right now, Quinn is the only answer for you, even if it's not perfect so you have a remainder." Brittany's voice is soft and earnest. She is looking at me urgently, as if this is the most important thing she will ever say to me.

My entire chest constricts when I hear her name, the weight of this batshit crazy mess threatening to crush the air right out of my lungs. I close my eyes and draw a long, quivering breath. I keep my eyes closed as I whisper a halfhearted attempt to make her words less true.

"The answer is still wrong without the remainder, Brittany. It doesn't work if you leave the remainder off, because it's part of the answer."

"Well, yeah. For now I'm completing your answer. But when you and Quinn finally figure out how your equation works, there won't be a remainder at all." Brittany pauses and looks into my sad eyes. I'm immediately struck by how deeply intelligent hers look right now. "You love her, San. I know you do. And I'm pretty sure that Quinn loves you too, even now, even with everything in her life going up in flames. This is going to be really hard for you, but you need to keep working on that equation, okay? You can't quit."

I'm speechless for a second. I know we don't have much time until the rest of the team starts streaming in to get ready for whatever hell Sue has planned for us, but I want to impress upon Brittany just how awesome she is. I try to steady my breathing and wait for the bands around my chest to loosen. After a couple of seconds I finally draw a deep breath and fix my eyes on the beautiful face of my best friend.

"Thanks, B. I don't know what I would've done without you these last few months. I'm pretty sure I'd get everything wrong without you. You're a genius," I tell her with a genuine smile.

"Well, duh. By the way, your execution of Operation Extinct Puckasaurus was brilliant, even if you were a little harsh when you talked to her."

I pick up her implication immediately. "It's her own fault! She is being such an idiot; I can't be expected to just let her completely destroy her life. It's bad enough already. And I know you think Quinn and I should just talk about all of this with each other, but we can't…especially not right now. The last thing she needs is for me to complicate her life even more, and honestly looking at her still makes me so angry I kind of want to vomit."

I'd noticed Quinn watching Puck whenever Finn wasn't looking, and Brittany found out Quinn asked that mohawked idiot to babysit with her. It wasn't hard to figure out what she was up to, and there is just no chance I could let Quinn keep a baby with Noah Puckerman. I don't like Finn a whole helluva lot, but if she insists on keeping her baby then he's the better choice to do it with. So I made sure she saw Puck's true colors with some dirty texting and getting in her face a bit about staying away from "my man," which is laughable in and of itself. No matter how many times I slept with him, I would never choose Puck to be mine. In the end, my and Britt's superb plan had been wildly successful in ending the deadbeat threat to Quinn's future (which I'm certain will be back on track after she drops the demon spawn growing in her uterus). Of course, killing Quinn's hard on for Puckerman resulted in two specific outcomes, 1) it drove the wedge between us even deeper, and 2) it sent her running right back to the jolly round giant, which led to their awkward eye contact love-making during Glee today and my reliance on Brittany to distract me from my love for Quinn.

So like I said, my life is fucked three ways from Sunday.


When I get home after our asinine Cheerios practice, I'm greeted by my mom telling me that Quinn is upstairs in my room.

"Why?" I ask her, and see shock on her face at my negative reaction.

"I don't know, mija, I didn't ask her why," she replies sarcastically. Her eyes are hard, and I can tell she's disappointed by my response.

Normally I'd back off at the barest hint of the Maribel Lopez glare, but it's been a shitty ass day and I'm not in the mood for Quinn's drama. I'm sure she is just pissed about the Puck debacle today.

"Well then why did you let her up to my room?" My voice starts off biting, but quickly tapers off into a pathetic whine. I knew she could literally hear me pussing out, but the fact that I'd even begun to snap at her earned me the full weight of my mother's angry eyes. I look down, shrinking back as my mom sets her jaw and steps closer to me.

"Santana, Quinn is your friend, and not that long ago, you two were attached at the hip. She obviously needs you right now, or she wouldn't have come here. I know you've distanced yourself from her and I know you want her spot as captain, and I can't imagine what she is feeling that she's decided to come here for help," my mother chastises firmly. She pauses for just a second, and I can feel her soften before I hear her tone change. "I know that Noah was with you when all of this happened, and I know it hurt your pride, but honey…you didn't love him, and I know you do love Quinn. You can't abandon your friendship now." Mom reaches out and cups my chin, bringing our eyes level. "And I'm frankly quite relieved that you aren't with him anymore. You're smart, you're gorgeous, and you can do better." She gives me a wink and smiles cheekily at me before throwing out, "so can Quinn, for that matter."

"Yeah," I scoff jokingly and roll my eyes, shaking my head at her. I hope that I convey a nonchalance that I don't feel, my insides squirming at the mention of "loving" Quinn. At least she seems to think I'm hurt by the whole Puck thing, which I had regretted telling her, but now I'm glad I did.

"Go talk to Quinn, mija," she says before giving me a joking swat on the butt and sending me off. She doesn't know, I assure myself as I head upstairs.

I take a deep breath and push open my bedroom door. Quinn is sitting on my bed, watching my TV. She looks up when I walk in, but not before I see her absentmindedly chewing the inside of her cheek. Whatever Quinn is here for, she's nervous about it.

God, she's adorable.

"Hey," I murmur, closing the door behind me. I'm not really sure what to do with myself, even though this is my room, so I lean back against the door and drop my Cheerios bag on the floor.

Quinn looks so conflicted, her face contorts like she's constipated and I can't help the single chuckle that escapes my lips at the thought. Her eyes zero in on mine then, and her features set into really fucking angry. Well, shit.

"I knew I was stupid to come here. Fuck you, Santana," she spits out at me and starts rising off my bed.

I'd be taken aback by her tone if it wasn't so typical of an exchange between us lately, but I still feel the heat rise in my face at her audacity. She's just sitting in my room, unannounced, and clearly expects me to welcome her with open arms like she hadn't slept with MY boyfriend and gotten pregnant with his baby. For all she knows, I actually care about being with Puck. For all she knows, I wasn't devastated to find out that the girl I love is pregnant at 15. For all she knows, I wouldn't do anything for her. I'm instantly furious, with both us.

"Fuck me? Fuck ME? You're kidding me, right?" I'm caught between mirth and incredulity. The emotional rollercoaster of this day has me on the verge of exhausted hysteria-I'm so tired I actually feel like laughing. I'm staring at her, waiting for her to answer my seemingly rhetorical question.

Quinn freezes and glares at me. I don't know do what she sees, but her glare slowly transforms into a studying gaze before her eyes lower to my feet. She's bigger than ever, but somehow manages to look tiny.

"Why are you here?" I try my best to sneer at her, but my voice catches and comes out closer to a whisper. Shit…even I can tell that I sound weak, borderline vulnerable. Shit, shit, shit. I try to set my features to portray an indifferent mask, but my tired eyes betray me, and I blink hard to clear my bleary vision.

"Santana, I…I want to…" Quinn takes in a sharp breath that snaps my eyes to her face. I study her carefully, confusion clouding my thoughts as I try to make sense of what this is. I realize, to my complete horror, that just being alone with her leaves me slightly breathless. I can feel myself want to move forward to comfort her, but her voice roots me in place.

"The baby is Puck's." Her voice fades out until she basically mouths Puck's name. If I hadn't already known whose baby it was, I'd have to ask her to say it again.

Quinn slowly raises her head and reluctantly drags her eyes up to mine. Her eyes are brimming with tears. I can see all of her sorrow, all of her regret, and most painfully, all of her fear. Our eyes are locked, and I'm shocked to suddenly feel that my own eyes are mirroring her watery ones. I instantly realize that I'm the first person she's told this secret to. Quinn is confiding in me, and she is afraid I'll be angry with her because of Puck.

"I know," I whisper without breaking eye contact with her.

Her face knits in confusion briefly. I watch her shoulders begin to shake, her body slowly being racked by silent sobs. I feel like I'm moving in slow motion, but I'm finally pushing my body off of the door.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry, Santana." Quinn's words are broken up by sobs before I'm grabbing her hands and pulling her up into my arms. She's heavy, dead weight against my tired body. Her muffled sobs vibrate against me, and I pull her more firmly against my body.

"Shh, Quinn, it's okay. Shh," I soothe over and over, my voice sincere. As her breathing begins to settle down, I am struck by the realization that I haven't had Quinn this close to me since our one and only kiss four months ago, on my birthday. I'm suddenly afraid that she will remember too, and be uncomfortable being so close to me. I push the thought aside and focus on right now.

Quinn's arms suddenly encircle my waist, and I feel her take more of her own weight until I'm no longer supporting her. Her embrace tightens, and she sighs against my neck before whispering one more "I'm sorry" and pulling back slightly to look at me.

I meet her eyes willingly and offer a small smile, watching her slouch slightly in relief. I drop my hands down to hers and squeeze them gently.

"Listen Q, I think you should stay here tonight, okay? Have dinner with us, then we can talk or not talk or whatever you want."

"Okay." Quinn's face breaks into a genuine smile that seems to convey so much more than just happiness over the invitation.

I smile back in response, and we stand smiling at each other for a beat longer than needed. I finally break our eye contact and take small step back.

"Let's go wash up and fix our faces, and I'll ask my mom when we're having dinner."

I wait for Quinn's nod before I drop one of her hands and lead her toward my bathroom. As someone who avoids emotion at all costs, this entire day has me overwhelmed and overwrought. I fight to keep my focus on this moment, on Quinn and her needs, and her hand clinging to mine so tightly, wait…no, not that. Damn it. This girl might be my answer, but she's homeless and pregnant. I'd have to be a complete idiot to let anything happen with her right now.

Quinn looks at me expectantly when we reach the bathroom, and I drop her hand. I grab a washcloth and run it under cool water, indicating for Quinn to sit on the vanity while I squeeze the excess water out. I'm surprised by how graceful she still is, hopping up to sit lightly on the counter. At first, her gaze follows my hand as I bring the cool cloth to her face before her eyes flutter closed. I study her face with impunity, my right hand thoughtlessly coming up to tuck her hair behind her ear so I can see more of her. Her eyes are slightly puffy from her crying and her nose is a little red, but she's still the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. It takes me a moment to realize her eyes have opened, and that she is watching me take in the slight chap of her full lower lip. Heat rises to my face, and I'm positive that despite my Hispanic skin my face is flushed with embarrassment. My hands drop to my sides and I move to rinse the washcloth, but I am stopped by Quinn's hands coming up to grab my hips. I'm utterly immobile, my feet are rooted to the floor, my upper body is frozen, even my jaw is locked. I register Quinn's right hand leaving my hip and taking the washcloth from my own outstretched hand, freeing me from my awkward state. I look at her questioningly, and nearly gasp when she gives me a bashful smile.

"Your turn," she says.