That first day in kindergarten, Brittany barely knew anything about Santana's family. By the time they hit fifth grade, not much had changed. When Brittany's birthday came round in August before third grade, she called Santana's house, wanting nothing more then to have Santana sleepover on her birthday. Throughout the years, the two had become fiercely dependent on each other, even as young children. In first grade, they'd been in separate classes, but during lunch Santana always sat with Brittany's class, and after school they made a habit of meeting each other at the third tree on the left when school let out before walking hand in hand. In Art, Santana drew pictures for Brittany and Brittany drew some for Santana, and the next morning they would secretly stash them in the other's backpack, a happy surprise when it came time to unpack for the day. In second grade, they had been fortunate enough to have the same teacher, which had only brought them even closer.
"Hello?" Brittany heard on the other line in a funny voice. She wrinkled her nose but said. "Can I talk to Santana Lopez? This is her bestest friend ever, Brittany." She heard a chuckle.
"Ahh, Brittany, Santana's told me about you. You're the one who draws all those pictures for her?" The woman asked, and Brittany nodded cheerily, before remembering the lady couldn't see her.
"Yeah I do! And she draws 'em for me too! I have 'em all hung up on the inside of my door! There's almost no space left!" She beamed.
"That's very nice to hear, hold on, I'll get Santana." The woman said, and Brittany faintly heard a voice call, "Mija? Your friend Brittany is on the phone. Not to long now, we don't want to raise the bill." Brittany wrinkled her nose for the second time during that call, and when Santana answered the phone she asked, "Sanny, why does your mom call you mirror?" Santana didn't answer, but after a pause she laughed.
"My mama doesn't call me mirror Brittany, she called me mija. That means daughter in Spanish!" Santana said.
"But why didn't your mom speak English?" She asked in typical Brittany form. Another giggle from Santana.
"Well, because she's Spanish. My mom and dad are Spanish Brittany, me too." Santana explained.
"oh. well. cool. Wanna sleepover tonight?" She asked.
"Britts, I don't think I can." Santana replied softly. Crestfallen, Brittany continued the conversation on for just a little longer before claiming Lord Tubbington was trying to crawl out the window and she had to go save him.
In sixth grade though, Santana was granted permission to spend the night at Brittany's house, and both of them were overjoyed. Santana had explained to her that she hardly ever saw her dad because of his work, she only saw him at night when he came home, so she couldn't sleepover often because she'd miss the chance to see him. Brittany understood completely. She knew Santana's dad worked as a secretary at a big insurance company in Ohio, Karofsky and Marks. Both of the men's son's were in Brittany's grade, Dave and Azimio. Obviously both men were very, very proud of their accomplishments, because both boys came to school each day with something knew to brag about. Brittany didn't know what a secretary did but she knew it wasn't as good as owning an insurance company because of the hell they put Santana through due to her father's position in the office. Each time she ignored it, her head held high, her eyes glassy with tears she'd never let fall. In the 6 years they'd been friends, Brittany had never seen her best friend cry. Her eyes had filled on many occasions, but never once did a drop fall. All that changed at Brittany's sleepover.
Brittany invited Santana over at 7:00, enough time to get home from school and pack up and everything. That entire day, both girls chatted animatedly about what they would do and all the fun they would have. As usual, they both ignored Karofsky and Azimio's jeers at Santana, even though they seemed particularly harsh that day. Sitting side by side on the bus home, they ducked the paper balls the boys threw their way, determined not to let anything ruin the excitement.
"I'll see you soon!" Brittany smiled as the bus pulled to her stop. Standing in her driveway, she waved at Santana through the window until the bus vanished from view, rumbling toward Lima Heights Adjacent, Santana's part of town. After the bus vanished over the hill, Brittany turned, dashing into the quaint brick house.
"MOM?" She called, dropping her bag and slipping her shoes off in the entryway. Mrs. Pierce poked her head out of the kitchen.
"Right here dear. do you want to order a pizza with Santana later or should I cook something?" She asked. Brittany smiled. Her mom remembered Santana was coming over.
"Pizza is fine!" She smiled, creeping into the kitchen when she smelt cookies. Zipping forward, she snatched a chocolate chip cookie off the cooling rack and dashed out before she could be trapped by her mother's soft arms.
"You better watch it!" Her mother called after her, but she could hear the laughter that followed. Giggling, she pushed the door open to her room, flopping down on her white bed spread with orange piping. Brittany's wall's were painted a light orange color. Throughout the years, her favorite color was yet to change. Her white desk was pushed up against one wall, a dresser next to that. Brittany's white wood full sized bed was pushed to the opposite wall. The wood floor in the center of the room was covered with an orange and white circle rug. The shelves on the wall were lined with photos and trophies. Lima didn't have cheer team for the peewee teams, but every year she went to gymnastics, the trophies a direct result of their team's success. Some of the pictures between the trophies were from gymnastics. She and Quinn, arms around eachother, hair pulled back, both in matching sports bras and spandex shorts when they were 8. One of her on the balance beam at a competition, some other ones of she and Quinn goofing around or group photos. The rest were of Santana and Brittany. In the town pool, eating ice cream together, standing next to each other on the first day of second grade, Brittany missing her two front teeth. Brittany smiled at that picture, giggling.
Turning her head, her eyes fell on her closet door, full of Santana's drawings. Starting from the bottom, scribbled pictures when Santana could barely right her own name, to the top, where the scribbles took on shapes and words and hearts. Over time, Brittany's closet door had gotten too small for their growing friendship, and so Santana's most recent pictures spilled over on to the wall.
Brittany sighed, taking a deep breath before sprinting a few steps into a front handspring back tuck, landing right into the foam pit. As she climbed out, she couldn't resist looking at the clock, realizing then how slow it moved. It read, 4:45PM and she frowned, tucking a loose strand of blonde behind her ear. Her gymnastics class was just halfway over. All Brittany wanted to do was get home and wait for Santana. Her classes always seemed to fly by but today, it seemed like she'd been in the gym for an eternity. Her heart just wasn't in it. She'd nearly fallen off the balance beam numerous times. Climbing back on it again, Quinn on the parallel beam next to hers, she took a few steps into a cartwheel, executing a back flip to dismount.
"You okay Britt?" Quinn asked, coming to stretch next to her on the mat.
"Santana's coming over to sleepover later, I never realized how long these lessons are." She all but whined, making Quinn giggle.
When practice was over, Brittany couldn't get her shoes and jacket on fast enough. She nearly tripped over herself as she waved to her coach before turning and dashing to her mother's van.
"Where's the fire?" Her mother asked with a laugh, to which Brittany just shook her head.
"Come on mom" She whined. "Santana's coming soon." She said, trying not to fidget as her mother began to drive. It was no use though. She shuffled her feet and ran her fingers through her hair relentlessly. At every red light, she grumbled and complained until the point that Mrs. Pierce offered to give Brittany the house keys and let her walk home if the car was so slow. That quieted her, but inside, she silently counted the minutes, even though it was only 5:45 and she had an hour and a half before Santana would come over.
The second Mrs. Pierce opened the door, Brittany flew up the stairs like a bullet, abandoning her gymnastics bag at her bedroom door.
"That gymnastics practice lasted way too long" She thought to herself, already feeling the soreness in her calves. Lazily, she riffled through her drawers, carrying her clean clothes to the bathroom. Gently pulling the elastic off the ends of her braids, she combed out the tight french braids, necessary to keep her long hair out of her face and prevent strands from falling free.
She showered quick, letting the hot water pound onto her tired muscles. Changing into plain black jazz pants and her favorite tee shirt that read, "what's up?" With a giraffe on it. She didn't bother to anything to her hair, she knew it would just fall straight anyway. After dumping her clothes in the hamper, her eyes floated to the clock. It read 6:48PM. She smiled, hearing the doorbell ring.
"She's early" She thought.