There'll be seconds, sometimes minutes, where your face won't cross my mind
There'll be days that I'll not angry that you left me here behind
West, Scott Alan
"You have got to be kidding me."
Quinn sounds pissed. Really pissed. That's about the only thing that Santana is aware of right now. Getting fucked against a wall tends to make her head a little fuzzy. She can't help whimpering when she feels Brittany withdraw her hand from between her legs, and move away from her. Damn Quinn Fabray and her rubbish timing.
Santana somehow manages to push off the wall and smooths down her skirt. She looks over to Brittany who is doing everything she can to avoid eye contact with her. Unfortunately Quinn doesn't have the same problem, instead she's glaring at Santana in a way that brings to mind the phrase if looks could kill .
She's seething when she speaks. "You do this now? Seriously? Talk about the eleventh hour. You had months to do something about this. Months. Yet you wait until today and just show up here like this? You really are still a bitch, aren't you, Santana? She's getting married in fifteen minutes. Does that mean nothing to you?"
It doesn't. It should, Santana knows it should and maybe an hour ago it would have, but it doesn't now. Why? Because Brittany had kissed her. And that's given her the one thing she hasn't had in a long time. Hope.
"Is there any chance we could have less of the Dashboard Confessional?"
Santana can hear the exasperation in Kurt's voice, but if anything that only makes her less inclined to switch to a different play-list, even if after four hours she might be getting a little sick of it herself. She flips him off, the only sign she gives that she's even heard him. Other than that she stays where she is, lying on her bed, staring up at the ceiling.
Apparently Kurt isn't about to give up quite so easily though. "I know that the less time we spend together, the less chance there is of any violence on your part, but I'm starting to worry about how much time you're spending moping in your room." He glances around. "And about the collection of beer bottles you seem to have started." He actually wrinkles his nose and Santana wishes it wouldn't require quite so much effort to throw something at him right now.
He doesn't seem to sense the danger though and just continues talking. "Listen, Rachel's performing in some lame showcase tonight and I said I'd go support her. Fancy tagging along? I promise I won't even stop you from heckling her. In fact I encourage it." He must really be feeling sorry for her. Either that or he still isn't over the fact that Berry got into NYADA, while he's being forced to take classes at community college until he figures out his plan for next year. She thinks he only has himself to blame for that though. Only applying to one school if it was that important to him was insane. At least she hadn't been planning on going to college in the first place, so it suits her just fine to take a couple of classes just to pass the time. Though she's only doing that because Kurt hadn't given her a choice in the matter and had forced her down there to enroll.
She hates to admit it but she's actually enjoying it though. Unlike Kurt who does nothing but complain about the place, clearly thinking he's far too good to not attend a 'proper' college.
She notices him shift in the doorway and realises that he's waiting for her to answer. She honestly didn't think she needed to. In what universe would she ever willingly go watch Rachel Berry perform? She turns her head just enough to glare at him and he must take the hint as he rolls his eyes and sighs. "Fine. Spend your Friday night sitting home alone, feeling sorry for yourself. Again." He huffs and stomps out of her room. Something tells her he might just be getting a little tired of having a virtual recluse for roommate, but she really isn't about to start hanging out with him and Berry. She's pretty sure they don't want that any more than she does anyway.
She rolls over and buries her face in her pillow. The first time she's moved since getting home today. She's not sure how long she's been lying there before there's another knock on her door, all these Dashboard Confessional songs are starting to blur into one. "Fuck off, Kurt." She groans and pulls the pillow over her head. She's vaguely aware of the sound of her door opening and she wonders if Kurt's developed a death-wish all of a sudden. It's the only explanation she can think of for why he won't leave her alone. She sits up and turns, fully prepared to go all Lima Heights but freezes when she finds Brittany hovering in her doorway instead.
"You being nice to Kurt didn't last long then, huh?"
It takes Santana a long few seconds to get over the shock, but as soon as she does, she scrambles off the bed, nearly tripping over all the crap scattered across her floor, and literally throws herself at Brittany. "God, Britt."
Thankfully the past few months haven't dulled Brittany's reflexes and she's able to keep them both on their feet, her arms instantly wrapping around Santana and pulling her flush against her. She laughs. "I missed you too, Santana."
Santana bursting into tears and crying into her chest probably wasn't the reaction Brittany had been hoping for by showing up out of the blue like this, but Santana can't seem to stop herself. Thankfully Brittany doesn't seem to take it too badly, instead she just holds her tighter. "Shh, it's okay. I'm here."
Finally Santana manages to stop the sobs, and the fact that Brittany is actually here in New York, on a Friday night, standing in her apartment sinks in. "Wait, why are you here?" She pulls back from Brittany and frowns. "How are you here? Britt, tell me you didn't cut school today, because you really can't afford to do that anymore. You need to focus on graduating this time."
"I know." Brittany looks away from her, her eyes fixed on the carpet. "But I was driving to school this morning, thinking about how I couldn't wait to tell you about how Lord Tubbington has totally been getting it on with the girl cat next door, then I remembered that I wouldn't get to tell you, because I wasn't going to see you today. Or tomorrow. Or the day after that. So instead of going to school, I just kept driving until I ended up here."
She's more than a little surprised that Brittany managed to drive all this way without ending up lost somewhere in Pennsylvania. The few times Brittany has been to New York before, she has always taken public transport. Santana's really impressed that her girl has not only driven the six hundred miles to get here, but also has managed to make it to her apartment as well. Santana slides her arms around Brittany's waist. "Britt, you do know there's such a thing as the telephone?"
"I know." Brittany rests her forehead against Santana's. "It's not the same though."
When Brittany leans forward and kisses her, Santana can't help sighing. She's missed this, missed it so very much, and she can feel her body start to respond and she needs more than kisses. She pulls back, panting, staring at Brittany. She doesn't say anything, she doesn't need to. Brittany just knows. Brittany always just knows. Brittany's hands are suddenly grabbing her ass, pulling her against her. Her hips roll forward, precise and with just the right amount of pressure to cause Santana to moan, then her lips are once more working against Santana's.
Santana blindly reaches out for her bedroom door, only just having time to slam it closed, before Brittany is pushing her backwards. She's a little surprised when the back of her legs hit the desk and not the bed, but then Brittany is lifting her up to sit her on top and well, the desk is as good a place as any. Or it will be once she clears everything else off it. She sweeps an arm across the surface, sending everything falling to the floor, unfortunately that also includes her lamp which hits the carpet with a crash. Brittany freezes and pulls back to look over the side of the desk to see the damage.
At this point, Santana really couldn't care less about a stupid lamp, especially as it was one that Kurt had picked out when he had attempted to redecorate her room after deciding it was too dark and depressing for his tastes. She presses her lips against Brittany's neck, hoping to get her attention back on her, mumbling against her skin, "Don't...don't stop."
Thankfully Brittany obliges, sliding her hands under Santana's shirt, hands that immediately seek out her breasts.
It's been too long since they've been able to do this. Far too long.
Santana wraps her legs around Brittany's waist, using them to pull her closer. Brittany responds by slamming her hips forward, causing the desk to slide back into the wall with a bang.
Santana has a fleeting thought that this is all going to end in an awkward conversation with a mortified Kurt, but when Brittany's hands slide lower, she decides it's totally going to be worth it.
Brittany knew it had been a good idea to come to New York instead of going to school today. Sure her parents are going to kill her, but she at least had the decency to send them a text message to let them know where she is. She might then have turned her cellphone off so that they couldn't get in touch with her, but they can't say she at least didn't let them know. She glances over to her side where Santana is lying on her stomach, arms wrapped around a pillow, eyes closed.
Brittany sits up and takes in the state of her surroundings. "Was the room this trashed before we started?" She's fairly sure they can't have done quite so much damage in that short a space of time. When she looks closer though, she notices that most of the mess seems to consist of piles of clothes, plates and glasses, and empty bottles of various kinds of alcohol. She always thought she'd be the messy one when she and Santana lived together, but she guesses that isn't going to be the case. Then again now that she thinks about the junk that used to clutter up the back seat of Santana's car, maybe it shouldn't be that much of a surprise.
"Mmmm, sleep, Britt. Sleep." Santana snuggles further into the pillow, and Brittany can't help feeling a surge of pride at just how worn out and satisfied she appears to be.
The problem is Brittany doesn't feel tired in the slightest. She probably should after the insanely long drive here, but instead she's feeling kinda wired. That might just have something to do with the four energy shots she spent the last half of the trip downing. It doesn't help that her stomach has started grumbling. "Are you starving? I'm starving."
Santana opens one eye and looks up at her. "Did you even stop at all to eat and stuff on your way here?"
Brittany shakes her head. "Why would I do that? Then it would have taken me even longer to get here."
Santana sighs and closes her eye again, settling back down on the pillow, a smile playing on her lips. "That desperate to see me, huh, Britt?"
"Always." She trails a hand over Santana's bare back, her fingers pressing softy against her skin. Santana hums softly, though it's muffled by the pillow. Her hand moves lower as Brittany traces the outline of her spine. Then her stomach rumbles again, even louder this time, and she knows that round two, or is it technically round four, won't be happening until it's fed. She reluctantly pulls her hand away. "Do you have any food?"
There's a vague movement from Santana that might be a shrug, Brittany's not quite sure. "Usually I just steal Kurt's."
It doesn't look like Santana is going to be moving any time soon, so Brittany guesses she's going to have to go scavenge for food by herself. She slides out of the bed, heading for the door.
"Britt?"
She stops and glances back to find Santana still hasn't moved. "Yeah?"
"Babe, much as I love the idea of you walking around the place naked, I don't think Kurt will appreciate it quite as much."
"Oh. Right. Clothes." Brittany only now realises that she didn't actually bring anything with her on this road-trip. She really doesn't feel like putting her Cheerios uniform back on, so instead she crosses over to Santana's wardrobe to borrow something instead. She's surprised by just how empty it is, but then again it does look like most of Santana's clothes are lying on the floor of the room. She spots a hoodie thrown over the back of Santana's chair and grabs that instead. She pulls it over her head, then makes another attempt to leave the room. This time Santana lets her go.
She walks through into the kitchen to find Kurt sitting at the table. He has headphones in, but judging by how loud the music is, Brittany really doesn't think he needs them to hear it. From here she can make out that he's listening to show-tunes of some kind, which for some reason sounds really wrong blaring from his Ipod like this.
He looks up when she enters, stopping the music, and removing the headphones from his ears.
She frowns at him. "You really shouldn't have your music turned up so loud, Kurt. You'll end up making yourself deaf."
"Oh, what I wouldn't have given to have been deaf an hour ago." He leans back in his chair, watching her. "Just so I know for future reference, are you two always like that?"
"Like what?"
He opens his mouth to say something, but then closes it again, shaking his head. "Never mind. I don't think I want to know."
Brittany shrugs, not really having a clue what he was trying to ask her, and not really caring if she's honest. She skips over to the fridge and opens it, her eyes scanning over the contents. There's lots of things in Tupperware dishes, a few pieces of raw meat, some eggs, a carton of milk and not much else. She closes it and instead moves over to the cupboards. She starts opening them one by one.
Kurt twists around in his chair, his eyes following her around the room. "What are you doing?"
"Looking for Santana's food supply." She finally finds a cupboard that has edible items in it, but as she stands looking at them, she's certain it all belongs to Kurt.
Kurt moves to stand beside her, peering over her shoulder into the cupboard. "I think she has a jar of Nutella somewhere. And there's several cartons of ice cream in the freezer. If you're hoping for anything more than that, then you're out of luck."
Brittany allows the door to fall closed and turns to face him. "She has like no food at all?"
"Are you really surprised? I don't think Santana even knows what a grocery store is." He pushes her over to the table, and gestures for her to sit down. "She does however know what a liquor store is, so that's something I guess." He pulls open a drawer and rummages around in it. When he rejoins her at the table, he's holding several take-out menus. "I have to admit I myself am not exactly a culinary wiz. Though I do make a mean omelette. Otherwise, I would suggest that take-out is the way to go here." He spreads the menus out on the table. "Any preference?"
Brittany's eyes dart over to the fridge. "If you don't cook, then what's in the Tupperware tubs?"
He suddenly looks a little nervous. "Don't tell Santana, but Rachel has a habit of bringing us leftovers. Now there is a freakishly good cook, but of course everything's vegan. A fact that I may have concealed from Santana, along with the source of the food. I get the feeling if she knew, then she would stop stealing it, and it's enough trouble getting her to eat as it is."
She sighs, really not liking where this is going. "Kurt, you need to make sure you keep her fed. She gets grouchy when she doesn't eat."
He slides onto the chair next to her. "Brittany, she's a grown woman. It's not like I can exactly force feed her. If I tried, I think I'd loose an arm."
He might have a point. There's something she needs to ask him, but once again it's something she's not sure she really wants to know the answer to. "Kurt, how much is she drinking?"
Kurt looks surprised, as if he hadn't expected Brittany to notice all the empty bottles in Santana's room. "Not that much. I don't think. It's hard to tell. Other than to go to class, it's difficult to get her to leave her room. Despite her obsession with being popular in high school, she really isn't the most social of people, is she?"
"You said you'd take care of her, Kurt." She tries to keep her voice even, but she can't keep the hint of anger out of it. "That was the deal, remember? You'd look after Santana, and I'd make sure Blaine stayed away from any pretty boy Warblers that might take a shine to him." She's suddenly really regretting thinking Kurt would actually have Santana's back. He probably spends all his time with Rachel and her theater friends, leaving Santana alone in this apartment all the time.
"I've tried. Believe me, I've tried. I'm forever inviting her to come out with me and Rachel. She always refuses. I did manage to get her to go with me to a gay bar once. We were there maybe ten minutes before she started a bar room brawl because some woman had the audacity to hit on her."
Brittany folds her arms, not really liking the idea of Santana even talking to other women, let alone flirting with them. "Well women shouldn't be hitting on her."
"And she couldn't have just calmly explained that she had a girlfriend? Oh no, not Santana. She had to break the girl's teeth and get us arrested."
"Serves you right for taking her out to pick up women, Kurt." Once Brittany's back home she might just return the favor and drive Blaine up to Dalton so he can say hi to his Warbler buddies.
"That's not why I took her out. I was just trying to get her to venture outside the apartment for something other than classes."
"Has she not made any friends at college?" Santana hasn't mentioned anyone now that she thinks about it, but she'd always just hoped that Santana was just not wanting her to know how much she was enjoying being in New York while she was stuck back in Lima.
Kurt attempts to look positive, offering her an obviously fake smile. "Yeah, I'm sure she has."
"Kurt..."
He sighs. "If she has, then she hasn't ever invited them back here, or ever hangs out with them."
Brittany rests her head in her hands. How is that she had never noticed how miserable Santana is? Sure she'd had a feeling that something was up the last time they'd spoke on the phone. That's actually the reason that she'd decided to drive here today. She's always had trouble reading Santana over the phone, she needs to see her to know what she's thinking. Santana rarely ever says what she's feeling, it's always her eyes that give her away and when she can't see her, then she tends to misjudge things. Which is apparently what she'd done by insisting Santana comes to New York. "I thought she'd be happy. I thought she'd make loads of friends and be really popular like she was in high school."
Kurt has that look on his face, that look that people give her when they don't know whether to shatter her illusions about something. He must decide she needs to hear this though, as he takes a deep breath. "Brittany, let's be honest, Santana didn't have any friends in high school. She had plenty of acquaintances, sure. But the only real friend she had was you. Maybe Quinn when they weren't trying to stab each other in the back, which lets face it, wasn't often."
"But you guys in Glee club..."
"Never got close. She never let us."
He's wrong, she knows he's wrong. She's sure Sam would count Santana as a friend if she asked him. And Mercedes, though she isn't sure if her and Santana are still in touch since she moved out to LA.
Kurt reaches across the table and places a hand on top of hers, as if trying to offer her some comfort. "With Santana, it's always been as long as she has you, she's never needed anybody else."
"That's why I wanted her to come here, Kurt. Because how can I ever be enough? She needs other people in her life."
"She doesn't seem to think so."
"Then you have to change her mind, Kurt. You have to make her make friends. Make her hang out with Rachel if you have to."
Kurt raises an eyebrow. "Just how do you expect me to do that without it ending in violence?"
She shakes her head, frantic. "You need to figure out a way. You promised you'd look after her. You promised."
"I'll try, but don't get your hopes up. But look, she's going to college, her grades are steady, and she's functioning perfectly fine. Maybe listening to a little too much Emo music for my liking, but she's doing okay. And in another six months, it won't matter, because you'll be here in New York with her, right? And everything can go back to normal for you two."
That's a conversation she and Santana have yet to have. She's been starting to think lately about how New York might not be where she wants to go after graduation, but hadn't dared tell Santana that, not after her pushing so hard for Santana to move here when she didn't want to. But now the fact that she knows Santana is miserable here gives her the confidence to start looking at other options for them. Warmer options, where Santana could maybe spend a great deal of the time wearing a bikini. That would be nice. However for now Santana is still assuming that she'll be joining her here, so she needs Kurt to keep thinking it too. "Right."
Kurt pats her hand. "Then don't worry. Santana is like the toughest person we know, right? So she can easy survive another six months without you, but if you want, I will make a point of inviting Rachel over several times a week and have her sing until Santana comes out her room. Even if it's only to kick Rachel's ass."
Brittany forces a smile onto her face, not even able to take any satisfaction in the image of a terrified Rachel Berry screaming while Kurt attempts to hold back a furious Santana.
Kurt can only nod. "Now come on." He picks up one of the menus. "I'm thinking Thai food. What do you think?"
She thinks that she has six months to figure out just how to fix this mess she's made and make Santana happy again.
It's two weeks later when Brittany first gets the idea. Mercedes is home for a visit and everyone goes to Breadstix. Listening to her talk about Los Angeles, it's like the beginning of a plan starts to grow inside her head. Sun, sea, surf. It makes Brittany think of sunshine and warmth. Two things that she has never associated with New York.
When everyone else has left and it's just her and Mercedes, she asks her about it, and Mercedes is quick with the encouragement. Brittany thinks maybe she's lonely out there on her own. When Mercedes mentions reforming the TroubleTones, then she knows for sure she is.
She tries to picture Santana out in California, lying on a beach somewhere, relaxed and smiling.
She tries to picture Santana in New York, and all she sees is her huddled up against the cold, wrapped up in a large coat, scowling as she hurries down a busy street.
She knows which of those makes her chest hurt less. She just needs to work up the nerve to talk to Santana about it.
It's Valentine's Day and Brittany and Blaine drive up to New York together. When they get there, they find that Santana and Kurt don't appear to be speaking this week. This isn't all that unusual, it seems to happen about once a month, but there seems to be more to it this time, and everything is tense and awkward.
Kurt takes Blaine out for dinner.
Santana cooks for her at the apartment.
It goes better than she expects. Santana only sets fire to the kitchen once, and that had been Brittany's fault for pinning her against the counter and getting a little too carried away with her kisses.
She's curious to know why they've stayed in tonight, instead of going out to eat, but Santana's trying to be all sweet and romantic, even lighting dozens of candles when they move things into the bedroom, and she doesn't want to appear ungrateful, so she doesn't ask the question.
Something's wrong here though. Santana's tense, Brittany can feel it in every one of her muscles when she's pressed against her, can see it in every move she makes. It's as if Santana is out of sync with everything around her, and that includes her.
They're lying in bed, side by side, but not touching, when Brittany can't take it any longer and just asks, "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." The answer is automatic, as if she has been conditioned to give it whenever she's asked that question. Santana won't even look at her, instead keeping her eyes fixed on the ceiling.
Brittany gently cups Santana's face, turning her head to look at her, with her other hand she runs her fingers over Santana's forehead trying to smooth out the creases of confusion that form there. "You're keeping secrets from me."
There's a hint of surprise in Santana's eyes, and for a moment Brittany worries that she's going to deny it, to lie right to her face, but then Santana sighs. "I am. But they're not my secrets to tell."
"Kurt?" She doesn't need Santana to answer, she knows it has to be. Something's going on here. Something they obviously don't want her to be a part of.
"Trust me, B, you don't want to know." Santana sounds so miserable that Brittany believes her.
Kurt has changed since moving here. He's become cold, bitter. This city has made him hard. And she's starting to worry that it's going to end up doing the same to Santana. To her. It's this that gives her the courage to bring up LA. She rests a hand against Santana's stomach, allowing the tips of her fingers to dance across the bare skin. "Do you ever think about not living in New York?"
Santana frowns, as if trying to imagine it, and then she shakes her head. "No."
Brittany doesn't mention it again until Spring Break and Santana is back in Lima. It takes a couple of days of being back here, but then Santana seems to start to relax, is less on edge. Until they run into Blaine at the mall that is. Then she goes quiet, her gaze fixed on the ground. Blaine doesn't notice, but Brittany does. She learns from this conversation that Kurt is spending Spring Break with friends, something about a guy with a boat up the coast or something. She isn't really listening, instead her attention is on Santana's reaction. She wonders if Santana had been asked to go with them, if she's chosen spending time with her over everyone else again, or whether Santana hadn't been invited. Neither of those options sit well with her.
They're walking back to the car, when Brittany pulls Santana to a stop and takes a moment to study her, really study her. When Santana shifts uncomfortably, Brittany sighs and tells her, "I don't know what to do."
Santana swallows. "About what?"
"About this." Brittany gestures at the space between them, hoping that Santana understands.
Santana is still for a moment, but Brittany can see panic setting in her eyes. Then she's kissing her, urgent and frantic, and Brittany forgets what it was she was even asking.
She next brings it up two weeks later when she's on the phone with Santana. Casually drops it into the conversation about how she was talking to Mercedes and how Mercedes misses the TroubleTones and how if they'd stayed together, they could maybe have been the next Destiny's Child by now. She tries to tease Santana about how Mercedes had insisted that she was of course Beyonce, but how please, every knows that if anyone is Beyonce, it's Santana. Mercedes is Kelly Rowland and Brittany is the one who no-one remembers.
It takes Santana all of ten seconds to change the subject.
Santana stops asking her what she plans to do in New York next year. That's how Brittany knows that Santana has figured out that something is wrong. But Santana is pretending that she hasn't noticed, and Brittany doesn't know how to handle it. Every time she starts to talk about the future now, Santana closes down, the walls come down and she shuts Brittany out. She doesn't push, she figures if she waits then Santana will eventually open up to her.
It doesn't happen.
Santana had started to think that this day would never arrive. She swears the past ten months time seems to have been crawling along, like she's been living her life in slow motion. But now at last, she's back at McKinley, sat watching and cheering while Brittany finally graduates.
She honestly feels like her life has been on hold, like she's been waiting for this moment and now that it's here, her real life can begin.
The graduation ceremony has ended, and she's stood on the sidelines while Brittany takes part in group hugs with Sam, Blaine, Artie and Tina. She feels out of place standing here watching them. She always felt out of place in this damn school, this damn town, and she really can't wait to get the hell out of here again. It's not home any more. It's taken a while, but New York has finally started to feel like it just might be though. It finally feels like she fits somewhere, and once Brittany is there with her, well things might actually start feeling like they're supposed to.
Kurt sidles up to her. He looks like he wants to be here less than she does. "You okay?" He bumps his shoulder into hers and offers her a look that she thinks is supposed to be sympathetic. He seems to believe that they're brothers in arms or something. She doesn't know if it's because of the whole escaping Lima together, or because of the fact that both of them managed to survive a long distance relationship, or that they kept each other from murdering Rachel Berry, but he definitely seems to think they've bonded over their time together. And maybe he's right. Not that she'd ever admit it.
"Are you?" Okay, so maybe she still does that thing where she'll turn any question he asks her back on him, but she can't be expected to actually talk to him about feelings and crap, can she?
His eyes are fixed on Blaine, and she knows before he speaks that her question is only going to be met with sarcasm. "Great. I really can't wait for Blaine to move to New York and start at NYADA with Rachel, while I continue to attend community college. Everything is working out just like I planned."
His whining has been getting worse as the months have gone on. She really doesn't know how Blaine puts up with him, as the only emotion he shows towards Blaine these days is seething jealousy. All she knows is that Blaine must really love him if he lets him treat him like this. She's just glad that Blaine will be living on campus and not moving in with them. Course she's hoping that once Brittany gets settled, they'll be able to ditch Kurt and get their own place. Although she still has no idea what Brittany is planning to do once she gets to New York. Every time she tries to bring up that topic of conversation, Brittany changes the subject. And that has started a clawing in her chest that she can't seem to shake off.
Brittany is now hugging people that Santana doesn't even recognise and that only makes her feel more of an outsider. She's so focused on Brittany, that she doesn't notice Sam has walked over to her until she finds herself being lifted off the ground as he grabs her in a bear hug.
"Jeez, Trouty, put me down already."
He laughs and instead spins her around while she slaps ineffectively at his back. Eventually he does let her go and stands there grinning at her. "I missed you this year, you know. McKinley hasn't been the same without you stalking the hallways, making Freshmen cry."
She actually has missed him, and wishes she'd made more of an effort to stay in touch with him. "What can I say, I'm irreplaceable and you know it."
"I do." He nods.
"So what does the future hold for Sam Evans? You off to join the circus? Put yourself on display as the world's largest mouth? You'd make a killing. See the amazing Trouty Mouth, the boy who can swallow anything."
"Yeah, and if that doesn't work out, I can always become a lion tamer. I mean if I can handle you, then a lion has gotta be child's play. It's definitely less terrifying, and a lot less likely to rip my head off."
She doesn't think anyone will appreciate her causing a scene here today, so she decides she'll take that as a compliment.
When she doesn't react, he glances over at Kurt, who only shrugs. He tells her, "No, I'm thinking I'm gonna head out to LA. Puck's said I can crash on his sofa, so I figure why not. It seems like LA is the place to be right now."
She gets the feeling Mercedes plays some part in his decision, but decides not to call him on it.
"I can learn to surf. I mean, I look the part, right? So why not? How hard can it be?"
Santana looks him up and down. "Seeing as most surfers seem to have very few brain cells, I'm guessing not difficult. So you should fit right in."
His face falls and she almost feels bad. Almost. He soon shakes it off though. "Hey, maybe we can take lessons together. If it's that easy, you can show me how it's done."
She's never one to back down from a challenge. "Yeah, sure, if I ever find myself out in LA, you have a deal."
He frowns, looking confused. "But I thought..." He trails off.
"Thought what?"
"Mercedes said..." Again he stops talking.
She takes a step towards him. "Mercedes said what?"
"Nothing. Nevermind. I must've misunderstood."
Kurt's head is swivelling back and forth as he tries to follow the conversation. "Misunderstood what?"
"Nothing." Sam starts to back away from her. "You guys are coming to Breadstix tonight? I'll see you later." And then he's gone, disappearing into the crowd.
Kurt is staring at her, suspicion in his eyes. "Are you moving to LA?"
"No." She rolls her eyes.
He doesn't look convinced. "Because if I need to find a new room-mate then I need to know now. I can't just live with anyone, you know?"
"I'm not moving to LA." She has no idea what Sam was going on about. She's just as confused as Kurt, but yet he seems to think she's been making plans behind his back. She looks up to see Brittany making her way towards her. "Look, I'll see you later, okay?"
"Okay." Kurt scowls after her, but doesn't say anything else.
She pushes a few people out of her way to get to Brittany and pulls her in for a kiss. When they break apart, they just stay wrapped in each others arms.
Brittany smiles at her. "Hey."
"Hey." Santana can't resist kissing her again. "Wanna get out of here?"
Brittany glances around at everybody else, hesitating for a second, but then she nods. Santana takes hold of her hand and leads her towards the exit.
They find themselves on the football field, sat on the bleachers, though Santana doesn't know why.
Brittany hasn't said anything since leaving the gymnasium. She's simply sitting staring out over the field, biting down on her bottom lip slightly. Santana knows something's bothering her. She reaches out and places a hand on her knee. "I'm so proud of you. You know that, right?"
Brittany doesn't show any sign that she's even heard her.
"Britt?"
Brittany sighs, but still doesn't look at her. "I need to talk to you. About New York."
That clawing in Santana's chest gets stronger, and she thinks maybe it's her heart trying to rip its way out of there. She knows what's coming. It's Brittany so of course she knows. She's known for a while and has just been in denial about it. "You're not coming, are you?"
"I don't know."
Santana wants to look away, to not see Brittany's reaction when she asks this next question, but she finds she can't. She always has been a bit of a masochist. "Are you breaking up with me?" Her voice comes out small and pathetic, and she hates that.
Brittany turns to face her, eyes wide and panicked. "No." She shakes her head, reaching and grabbing at Santana's hands, until she's holding both of them in her own. "No. Of course not. I love you."
"Then why..."
Another sigh, but she keeps her eyes on Santana now. "New York isn't me."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Santana can feel the anger starting to build up and she decides to just go with it. It's better than crying, though not by much. She tries to pull her hands away, but Brittany only tightens her grip, her eyes pleading with her not to do that, to let her explain. She stops struggling.
"It's too cold."
Now Santana does snatch her hands away, folding her arms. "This is about the weather?"
"No." Brittany looks like she's about to start crying.. "The whole city is cold. The people, the buildings. Everyone's just always rushing around, no time for anyone else. I don't think I can live like that."
"Then what..." She trails off as something clicks into place. "You've been talking to Mercedes." When Brittany looks away, Santana knows she's right. "So you're going to go live in LA, which is about as far away from me as you can get without leaving the country, yet you say you don't want to break up? What, we're supposed to just keep doing long distance forever?"
"No. I want to live with you, Santana. I just don't know if I want to live with you in New York. But yeah, I like the idea of California, and I want to talk to you about us maybe going out there. I think it'd be good for us."
Santana's brain seems to choose that moment to give up on her and she can only stutter, "What?"
Brittany takes a deep breath, then meets her gaze once more. "Mercedes has a spare room, and she says we can move in with her. Just until we can afford our own place. She knows a guy who owns a dance studio out there and she's talked to him about giving me a job. And you can go to college, same as you're doing in New York. Or if you don't want to do that, Mercedes says she's willing to reform the TroubleTones if we want. Honestly, I think she's struggling to make it solo, but knows that you two together? You'd be unstoppable." Brittany tries to take hold of her hand again, but Santana stops her.
It's starting to sink in that this isn't a rash decision that Brittany's made. She's given this a lot of thought. So why is she only hearing about it now? "How long have you been planning all this?"
Brittany shrugs. "Six months maybe."
The anger's gone now, leaving Santana feeling drained. "Why didn't you say anything?"
"I tried, Santana. You know I tried. Don't try and pretend that I haven't."
Santana has the grace to look away. Brittany's right. She has tried to have this conversation with her before now, but she's always panicked and shot her down before she could ever really say anything.
"But Los Angeles?" Santana says the words carefully, trying out how they sound on her tongue.
"Exactly."
"I like living in New York." Santana's surprised at how true that statement actually is.
She can see the confusion take over Brittany's features. "But you're miserable in New York."
"I was miserable because I've not been with you. I wanted to live in New York with you. But now you're making me choose?"
"No. No, I'm not. If you don't want to go, we won't go. I'll move to New York like we said."
"But you just said you didn't want to live in New York."
"I don't."
Santana's head is starting to hurt, this is too much information for her brain to process. "But you'd do it anyway?"
"If that's what you want, then yeah." Brittany looks at her like she's crazy if she ever thought otherwise.
"This isn't fair, Brittany. What happens if you move to New York and then hate it? Then you're going to blame me and I can't handle that. How can you put all this on me like this?"
"I'm not. All I want is for us to talk about it."
She's trying to understand, she really is, but it's a lot of information to take in, without having had any warning. The anger is coming back and the temptation to lash out, to just refuse to go out of spite is getting too strong to ignore. She knows she'll only end up regretting that though. "I can't do this right now." She stands, starting to walk down the bleachers.
Brittany grabs her arm to stop her though. "Please, don't. Santana, we need to talk about this."
She breaks free, but does stop. "No. Not right now. I need time to think and I can't do that with you looking at me like I've kicked a puppy if I don't just do what you tell me to for once."
"That's not..."
"Britt, please? I'm just asking for some time and space. Can you do that for me?" She prays Brittany can, otherwise she might end up breaking both their hearts right here on this field.
Brittany only nods..
Santana hesitates. Every instinct is telling her to stay, to wrap her arms around Brittany and tell her everything will be alright. She ignores them, turns and walks away, every step taking another chunk out of her heart as she knows she's leaving Brittany sitting alone. She can't ignore her need to protect Brittany though. She makes it to the field and keeps going. She does pull her cellphone out of her pocket though and calls his number. Thankfully he answers on the third ring. "Sam?"
"Santana?" He sounds thrown by the fact that she called him by his actual name.
"You still at the school?"
"Yeah, what's wrong?"
"Get your ass over to the bleachers, will you? I need you to go look after my girl."
"What happened?"
"Sam, please, just get over there."
"Okay, yeah, sure."
"Thanks." She hangs up before he can ask any more questions. She trusts Sam to make sure Brittany gets home okay. That leaves her to get in her car and just keep driving.