Thanks for all the feedback on this first chapter. Just to reassure you that most definitely Brittana is always on (even if they don't know it quite yet), Quintana is only a minor plot point used to get the ball rolling as you will see in this chapter. Also, italics used in speech is supposed to be read as being spoken in Spanish. Please keep up with the feedback, it really helps. Hope you all enjoy! (:
II
Dear Diary,
I have to hurry; I'm going to be late for dinner. I'm terrified. I was about to meeting the infamous Santana. If her voice alone gave me butterflies, I was frightened to know what my reaction would be when I actually saw her. Having a filtering problem definitely was not going to work in my favour tonight. Hopefully I'll be able to keep myself in check.
Be back later hopefully,
Brittany S. Pierce
P.S: Lord Tubbington, please save me if Quinn tries to kill me for saying something inappropriate to her girlfriend.
I managed to find a belt in my closet that must have been my older sister's at some point to put around my waist to make the shirt not look so box like on me. My hands were practically shaking as I closed the clasp.
'Relax, Pierce. You got this if you just chill out, the stutter and filtering aren't so bad if you're not tense.' I thought to myself as I checked my appearance in the mirror; normally I wouldn't indulge in such a petty act but if I was completely honest I really wanted to look good for Quinn's girlfriend. I wanted to make a good first impression. It was the least I could do after she rescued Rachel and me from those two slushy wielding idiots.
"Girls, supper's ready!" Judy's slightly shrill voice echoes up the stairwell, alerting me it was time to face the music. I rushed out of the room trying, hoping I'd be able to take my usual seat before Quinn or Santana sat there. Plus meeting at the dinner table rather than in the middle of the hall would in all likelihood go much smoother with everyone else as buffer.
I manage to grab my usual seat as my Dad puts his glass of wine on the table. "You okay, Bumble Bee?" He looks at me curiously before taking a seat at the head of the table on my left. "You look a little pale."
Just as with Rachel this morning I don't get the chance to answer. Quinn walks into the room, hand in hand with who I assumed was Santana. She was absolutely beautiful. Her eyes were a brown as warm as her voice, complimenting her long raven hair and high cheekbones.
"Britt?" My father speaks to me once again, alerting to the fact I had been clearly staring.
"Sorry, what?" I tear my attention from Quinn's girlfriend to my father, feeling blush creeping up on my face.
"I asked if you were alright." He smiles at me, clearly trying to not look too worried.
"F-fine D-dad." I stutter. Uh oh, this was not going to be good. "C-Can I be excused f-for a m-moment?"
My face is getting hotter and hotter. Despite the worried look that has formed on his face, he nods. As I get up from the table my gaze accidently meets that of Santana who had apparently sat across the table from me. The look of recognition and a small sympathetic smile on her face only makes me more embarrassed. I'm able to reach the bathroom without any further blunders. I can't help but hope that once I go back to the table Quinn and Judy will be doing most of the talking so I wouldn't be the sideshow for the evening.
As I reach the table after wiping my face over with a cool cloth, I notice Judy had joined them and seemed to be waiting on me to say grace. I wasn't much for religion but I had nothing against Judy's wishes for grace to be said at every meal and for me to visit Sunday services with her every once in a blue moon.
"Let's say grace shall we," she said as I took my seat beside my father and the table's only unoccupied chair. "Dear God, we would like to thank you,"
As Judy continued on with grace I opened my eyes. I'm taken by surprise as I noticed Santana was the only other person at the table with their eyes open. Clearly she notices mine are as well as she gives me yet another smile.
"Thank you." I mouth to her, I never really had the chance to thank her earlier due to the fact as soon as she welcomed me to McKinley she was gone.
"Any time," was all she was able to mouth back before Judy said 'Amen'. We both quickly shut our eyes, bowing our heads and followed Judy's lead as if we had been listening the whole time.
"Well, I supposed introductions are in order aren't they Quinny." Judy says enthusiastically.
"Of course," The eagerness in Quinn's voice is obviously fake; Judy and my father are oblivious.
I can't help but notice that Santana begins to roll her eyes but quickly stops herself before turning her glance to quick, the look in her eyes clearly tell Quinn to 'cut the crap'. Simply from being around them for less than five minutes, three minutes and 42 seconds to be exact, I could tell their relationship was definitely not as great as Judy had described to me. That was a frequent occurrence since Dad had begin to date Judy, practically everything I knew about Quinn I had heard from Judy and those things definitely weren't holding up to be one hundred percent true.
"San, this is Mr. Pierce" Quinn turns her attention to my dad.
My father sticks his hand out for a handshake. She takes his hand, giving it a friendly shake. "Santana Lopez, sir."
"Dan, his fine dear." He says with a small laugh.
"Dan it is then." Santana give him a small polite smile.
"This is my daughter, Brittany." My father turns the conversation's focus towards me.
"It's nice to meet you," She acts as if we've never met before, reaching across the table for a handshake. Ironically enough as I stretch out to take it my quickly clamming hand is shaking from nervousness.
Rather than saying the same thing or something that would have been even relatively appropriate I instantly go to this morning's incident. "I-I have y-your s-shirt, I'll w-wash it and b-bring it to g-glee club on T-Thursday."
I can't help but mentally face palm myself for the huge amount of stuttering I had just done.
She gives me a large smile when I pull my hand out of hers, "Don't worry about it. I've got at bunch at home. Rachel told me that you decided to join the glee club so it's probably a good idea that you have a back up wardrobe for occasions such as this morning."
Quinn's eyes look like their going to pop out of her head in anger; I can see her trying to withhold the grimace that was threatening to cross her face. Something told me that if Dad and Judy weren't here I would be receiving end of a lecture like I had in the car this morning.
"Thank you," I mumble out before taking a long sip of the lemonade Judy had made to go with dinner for us where she and dad had wine.
"I don't understand how they could be so cruel to you kids, all you guys are doing is singing." Judy says, a frown presenting itself on her face. "Though I would have to say Santana its great dear that you're able to be captain of the glee club and the lacrosse team, I don't think I could have done that at your age." I could tell that Judy was trying to talk Santana up to dad; Judy was a nice lady but she truly valued appearances way too much.
"Thanks, Judy. It's been rough the past to weeks trying to get ready for sectionals for glee and tomorrow night's home opener for lacrosse. I think I got it down though, luckily Rachel and Mercedes are great co-captains for glee." Santana say assertively, without a doubt trying to give credit where it was due.
As I take my first bite of chicken I can't help but notice that at the mention of Rachel's name Quinn's facial expression change. Her masked anger has changed to a look of discomfort and would I could only describe as guilt, but for what that guilt was for I had no idea.
"Brittany, you should come to the game tomorrow night, Quinn will be cheering for the team and I'm sure the Berry's will be there so you could sit with Rachel. You definitely don't want to miss the home opener, the energy is great." Judy was extremely enthusiastic about this game. Her long-winded suggestion sounded more like something I'd expect from Rachel Berry herself.
"You definitely should, glee club isn't the only great thing about McKinley." I look up from my plate to find Santana looking at me with a somewhat hopeful smile on her face; who could say no to that.
"S-sure, I'll ask R-Rachel about it tomorrow." I answer before going back to my plate, shovelling my fork full of three cheese noodles.
Soon enough the conversation had drifted away from me and I was able to eat in peace without another fit of stuttering.
"I g-got the dishes." I say as Santana begins to start tiding the table. It was quickly established that since Judy cooked one of the three of us would clear away the table and do the dishes; tonight was my turn.
"It's no problem, I can help." She replies quickly, obviously trying not to be a rude guest. Could she be any sweeter?
"You don't have to San, you said you'd help me with me my homework remember?" Quinn places a hand on Santana's arm, attempting to lure away from the table.
"You go on upstairs and get started, I'll be up once I'm done helping Brittany. It shouldn't take to long."
Quinn huffs at her response, letting go of Santana's arm. "Haven't you helped her enough today, I'm sure C3PO here can manage on her own."
"Quinn!" Santana yells at her, surprised at Quinn's comment. "Stop it!"
"Why? She knows I don't like her so what's the point Santana." Quinn crosses her arms defensively, clearly trying to get her way. The more time I spent with her the more I realized that Quinn was much like a child that if they didn't get their way would throw a tantrum left, right and centre.
"Are you serious Quinn? You're being extremely rude, and that is coming from me and trust me, I wrote the book on rude once upon a time if you remember." Santana was quick to put her in her place, which truly surprised me.
"I remember alright, but I guess you're past that. Why don't you just stay here with Dorkatron and I'm sure she'll show you out when the two of you are done."
Neither Santana nor I get the chance to respond as Quinn turns around leaving us alone in the dinning room. Before we knew it the sound of her bedroom door slamming echoed through the house.
As Santana looked back to me I immediately felt like I had to apologize to her, "I-I'm sorry."
"What do you have to be sorry for? You haven't done anything wrong." Her voice is softer then I expected, having changed from her firm tone she had used with Quinn.
"I-I didn't mean to c-cause any t-trouble." I spit out, trying to avoid stuttering though I ultimately failed. I hadn't stutter this much since the beginning of freshman year when the director of Vocal Adrenaline used to scare the living daylights out of me, thankfully I had gotten used to him by the time I was asked to become assistant choreographer after Christmas break. There was something about Santana that seemed to cause my mind to go to that place where my stuttering and filtering was hardwired.
"It's not your fault, I'm really sorry about the way she's been treating you. She's having a hard time not having her dad around but that's not an excuse. You're going through this too, so it's not like she's alone in this. She told me about the conversation in the car this morning, you're trying and she's not. So don't be sorry, she need to stop being such a brat."
"I, uh," was all that came out of my mouth. I honestly did not know what to say to her. It was clear that at this moment she was just as impressed with Quinn as I was; not in the slightest.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to go off like that at you. She's just really frustrating sometime, ya know?" Santana looks up from the stack of plates she's created on the table, lifting them up into her arms.
I simply smile slightly, giving her a nod to let her know I understood.
"Let's get started shall we?" She chuckles before heading towards the kitchen.
Washing dishes has never been so appealing.
"I'm so excited that you're coming to tonight's game. We go all out at the Berry house for Santana. You should totally come over before the game." Rachel said when I asked about the lacrosse home opener.
And of course I couldn't say no, so that was how I ended up at the Berry's house after supper. Rachel wasn't kidding when they said that they go all out. Soon as I had walked through the door Santana's uncle, who jut happened to be one of Rachel's dad, was quick to hand me a piece of cake he had made for Santana.
"Oh, thanks." I gave him a small smile before walking into the family room where Leroy had said Rachel was.
I'm taken aback when I find not only Rachel but Santana, Quinn, and a man and women who I assumed was Santana's mother and Rachel's other dad. The room is decorated with red and black streamers, the cake a had a piece of sitting on the coffee table reading 'Good Luck San' the rest of her name has been cut off having being eaten. Quinn's dressed in her Cheerios uniform while Rachel and the rest of Santana's family don red McKinley lacrosse t-shirts and have red grease lines across their cheeks. I can't help but feel slightly underdressed, in my Captain America hoodie and black jeans.
"Hey Brittany! Come on in!" Rachel motions to the seat between her and Mrs. Lopez on the couch.
Hesitantly I walk across the room, taking a seat. I take a bite of cake hoping it will stop Rachel or anyone else in the room for that matter, from expecting me to make conversation. My taste buds erupt pleasantly, the cake tastes as if it was delivered from heaven by gods.
"This c-cake is am-mazing." I stutter out.
As I look up from my plate, it's clear that I've taken them by surprise with my stutter. Santana's mother is look back and forth from Rachel and Santana as if to subtly ask what was wrong with me.
Rachel cuts the slight tension by responding. "I'll let daddy know you like it, he'll probably make it more often if he knows you like it considering you live next door. Lessons are definitely going to be more convenient considering me and Santana live under the same roof and you're just next door." Rachel answers sweetly, I can sense the slightly sympathy in her voice that was brought about by my stutter. I had forgotten she hadn't heard it yet.
"I heard that I was going to have to give you a few pointers, Pierce." Santana chuckles and Quinn shuffles slightly in her lap. "I'm going to make you work for it, you know that right?" A devilish grin crosses her face.
"B-bring it on." I smirk at her, surprising myself with my slight confidence.
"I think it's time to get going soon, isn't it?" Mrs. Lopez cuts in just as Quinn opens her mouth to speak, without a doubt saving me from another infamous Fabray comeback. "Hurry up and get your thing Santanita, you don't want Coach Bieste to be angry at her captain for being a bad captain do we know?"
"Yes Mami. Let's go Quinn." Santana says, patting her on the leg to get up off of her so they could leave. "We'll meet you guys after the game. Thanks for the dinner again, Mami." As Santana gets up to leave she places a kiss on her mother's cheek before following Quinn out of the living room.
"It was nice to meet you Brittany. I think there's an extra McKinley long sleeve if you'd like to borrow it dear, I'm sure Rachel could get for you." Santana's mother gives me as smile as she gets up off the couch.
"Thank you, Mrs. Lopez." The smile on Mrs. Lopez's face falters slight in surprise out of my lack of stutter but quickly goes back into shape.
Rachel grins, "Let's make a McKinley Titan out of you."
Never in a million years did I think that I, Brittany S. Pierce, would ever be at a house party at some random person's house. Luckily, I had been wrong. Santana had invited Rachel and me to the victory party at her friend Puck's house as soon as her mom left to go back to the car.
As soon as we arrived I was actually kind of shocked at how out of control the party had gotten and it was only ten o'clock. "Keep an eye on your drinks at all time, if you go to the bathroom go together, and whatever happens do not let anyone man handle you. If you guys have a problem, just give me a call and I'll be over to go all Lima Heights Adjacent on their douche bag ass."
"Thanks Tana." Rachel thankfully answers for the two of us, allowing me to hold onto my dignity again for a few moments.
"See you guys later." She says quick as she hauled towards the dance floor by Quinn.
The dancing going on in the middle of the living room was both horrendous and arousing at the same time. It was unfortunate sometimes that I practically had the mind of a teenage boy; the dancer in me wanted to criticize how appalling their technique was but the part of my brain where that teenage boy was located was saying 'who cares about their technique when they look like that'.
"Hi." I'm shaken out of my trance by the sound of a boy's voice standing next to me.
"H-hi." I reply as I turn to take a look at the stranger. His mohawk and football letterman jacket gave away his identity; Noah Puckerman.
"I wouldn't say that this was your scene Blondie, so whatcha doin' here?" He grins, clearly trying to flirt with me.
"It's Brittany actually and not usually but I thought I'd try something new for a change." I chuckle.
"Can I get you a drink?" His politeness catches me off guard.
"Sure thing, a corona and keep the top on it." As soon as the words are out of my mouth he gives me a wink before he's gone.
"You shouldn't accept drinks from strangers you know." A blonde boy with goofy lips I recognize from glee club comes around the corner. "For what it's worth though, I like your shirt."
I look down at me t-shirt; I changed into my Star Wars Millennium Falcon t-shirt after we had gotten home from the game. "Thanks, but do you even know what it is?" I was used to getting hit on a dance competition and guy liking my shirt was the usual pick up line even though half of them didn't know what fandom the shirt was even from.
"Of course, Han Solo's Millennium Falcon, the ship that made the Kessel Run in less than twelve parsecs." He's fully impressed me now, his ability to quote Han Solo made me sure he wasn't being an ass trying to get in my pants.
"Impressive, sir." I chuckle at him.
"Sam Evans, I'm Mercedes boyfriend and I'm in glee club but I'm sure you knew that. Trying to remember all those new names is rough isn't it? When I first moved here I called Santana Tina once and she threatened to cut off my balls. She's something else alright." He chuckles.
"You're definitely right about that one," I giggle just as Puck comes back with my drink.
"Corona, cap on as requested m'lady." He bows slightly as he passes me the clear glass bottle. I twist the cap off and take a sip; missing the usual fizz of a sound it made when opened assuming that I couldn't here it over the sound of the music.
"Well I'll see you around Brittany, if you ever want to discuss any other sci-fi or comic related topics just give me a holler." Sam smiles before heading towards Mercedes who was dancing with Kurt on the makeshift dance floor.
Before I'm just about to take another sip of my beer when Santana's voice rings through my ears, "Brittany, put the bottle down." Her voice firm and filled with concern
"W-what w-why?" My voice comes out as a weird mixture of a stutter and a slur. I may have questioned her but I do as she says, lowering the bottle from my lips.
"Puckerman, what the fuck do you think you're doing?" Santana yells, getting up in Puck's face while her own reddens in fury; if looks could kill. "You know who the hell she is, dickwad? She's not a whore you can fuck just to get rid of your blue balls, you idiot. She's Quinn's step-sister, asshole." The mixture of English and Spanish coming from Santana's mouth is slightly frightening, if she wasn't defending me something tells me I'd be shaking right now.
The look of pure terror on Puck's face would be priceless if it wasn't for the fact Santana looked like she was about to have an aneurysm. Even under all that terror I was still able to see the look of guilt that flashed across his face when Santana mentioned Quinn to Puck. What was it with guilt with people at McKinley? What was with my internal rambling? Do I always ramble this much? Do I do it out loud in public? I should ask my dad, he'd tell me.
"W-what are you talking about Lopez? I did exactly as she asked." Puck spit out looking down at Santana, trying to use his height to intimidate her.
"Stop shitting me, Puckerman. I saw you, you idiot." Santana responds, poking her finger into his chest. "You took the bottle from Azimo and Karofsky's special stash and don't you dare tell me you didn't know because I saw you ask them first."
Santana was getting really mad. I didn't want Puck to hurt her. I had to do something. I try to lay my bottle on the counter to help get Santana away from Puck but it turns into a disaster. My bottle misses the counter entirely and ends up smashing against the linoleum floor, sogging the feet of Santana, Puck and myself.
"Oh, S-Santana I'm s-sorry. H-here, let me clean your shoes." I begin to crouch down to the floor, completely oblivious to the fact that I have nothing to clean her shoes with. "T-T-they're very pretty, l-like you. Y-you're r-really really pretty." The words are out of my mouth before I can even think about stopping them.
No one says anything. I only feel a familiar hand on my shoulder and another wrapping around my waist. "Come on Britt, up you go." I feel the arms beginning to pull and moments later I'm back on my feet. I turn to see warm brown eyes looking at me with concern. "Brittany how many drinks did you have?"
"J-just the one on your shoes. W-well obviously n-not what's on your shoes but that was what was left of what I drank. J-just not even one." I'm quite certain what I said didn't need to be so complicated and probably didn't make any sense to her but Santana's eyes tell me she doesn't mind; they softened as soon as my stutter kicked when I began to speak.
"Santana I didn't do it," Puck says. He's still trying to convince Santana he's innocent of her accusation.
"Just like you didn't sleep with my girlfriend."
As soon as the words are out of Santana's mouth, the entire house goes silent; only the sound of the bass from the sound system bounding reaching my ears.
"Let's go Britt." Santana keeps her arm wrapped around my waist, before beginning to lead me carefully out of the house mindful of the broke glass at our feet.
If tonight was any indication, they were definitely on to something with Murphy's Law.
