Orokid: Hey guys, sorry it took me so long to finish this chapter. I started to write this back when I had finished the prior chapter, but I actually finished it a few days ago. I use the time when I'm on my work breaks to write, and I kind of been getting… out of working my MANY doubles. Mostly because I hate being there, and I hate wasting an entire day dedicating it to people who don't give a shit, and want everything for nothing, and treat me, someone who isn't paid enough to deal with them, like garbage. More or less, moral to my life story is never work in retail or restaurants. People simply suck when all you're trying to do is help them. Then again… I wasn't all that bad when I worked at GameStop those few months… That's some food for thought.

Anyway… I'm not sure how long I'm gonna make this story, since I'm known for rarely finishing multi-chaptered fan fictions, but the good news is that I actually WANT to work on this. So that, I believe, is good news for you all reading my story. That, and the usual weekly reminder about the going-on's at McKinley High helps. I heart watching the show. X3

That aside… I know this chapter is shorter than the others, since I really only wanted to get a particular thing set in (which you will read). Still, I think it turned out well, and I hope you think so too. There's more to come, and I'm going to try and pump up my writing schedule to make up for my laziness in the past week. Maybe the updates won't be as slow. I don't know yet. There's a lot I still want to portray before I get to the two points of the story I started the idea off of- the song Artie sings, which has been my favorite song for a long time, and, finally, Brittana.

Now… to answer some reviews, since I want to start doing this from now on…

x: In reference to using t.a.t.u.'s "Loves Me Not", I sooooo thought about it. It's one of those songs that were on the list, to tell the truth. I wanted to, but… I figured that this would have to be later on in the story if I do end up using it.

EmilylovesBrittana: I can totally relate to using this story to get through the hiatus. All too well, might I add. ^^

Rainea91, MLE, whatever1260, SantittanyIsLove91, and Nova Forever: Thank so much for your kind words, and I hope that it continues to be as good as you all think it is. I'm mostly writing this off the cuff, so I really do hope that it keeps with your expectations.

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or the characters within the show, nor the songs in which I use for the usage of propelling the plot forward. I do own the ideas used to create the fan fiction for which I am writing, but nothing else. I'm poor, and as much as I'd like to work for Fox on the writing staff for this show, reality tells me that's not in my future (so far).

CHAPTER THREE

To Tell The Truth

Cinnamon colored eyes gazed at the blond as she raised from her seat, hand falling from the slight grip the cripple had upon her fingers. She gave him a meaningful gaze, one that held a lot more words than she probably would ever say aloud, filled with frustration and pain for the things she could not do or say to him. Santana knew that look well, having seen it not too long ago, gazing at her as she laid her heart out for the world to see. It was the gaze that returned to her at midnight, reminding her time and time again just why she couldn't bring herself to hate the one person in her life who had done nothing but been honest and loving toward her when she was nothing more than bitter and cold. Santana watched as he stared at his beautiful girlfriend, confused and unsure, somehow knowing that there was more to her gaze than just the mixed emotions that performing brought out of her. If only he knew just what laid beyond those crystal blue eyes…

Slowly but surely the blond made her way up to the front of the class, wringing her wrists nervously as she fought to raise her eyes and gaze out into the crowd that they'd known (more or less) for the last year. The Latina felt the girl's anxiety from across the room, as much as any of them probably could, but, for some reason, she knew with every beat of her broken heart the weight of the things she wanted to say, a world of unsaid words on her shoulders. The dark eyed young woman felt her chest burn, hating both herself and the boy who (unknowingly) cursed her with the decision that had to be made. Her caramel hands tightened as memories and emotions moved through her, remembering the words that had been said to her that forbidden day not that long ago.

"Of course I love you."

The words were bittersweet, and she acknowledged grudgingly that they were the truest exchanged between them, but she couldn't help but feel that they were contaminated, recalling with unneeded ease the rest of the conversation that had followed.

The Latina watched as the girl deeply inhaled, determination meeting those beautiful blue eyes of hers, turning her gaze to the audience who remained rapt with attention. Some held a knowing look, others carefully shifting their views between the tall blood and or the Latina and four eyed handicap. There were some that were wary, confused or interested for reasons unknown or of their own. "Santana." Immediately, blue skies were locked with her earths, fear eminating from both, love and an unspoken bond between the two girls that too many had tried to deny- even themselves. The others seemed to disappear briefly, and the heartbroken teen felt almost too glad to feel the world, filled with hatred and lies- her lies- disappear from their realities. For just a moment, it was them, just them, and that was all she needed. "I know things are… hard right now. And I know it's hard to be around me after I-" She paused, eyes looking quickly to Artie, saying the words without saying them. Confused, he took her gaze as though she were looking for help of approval, offering a vague thumbs up without knowing why. A sad smile crossed her features, pained but thankful for his reaction, and a part of her couldn't help but wonder if she really was as bad or worse at understanding things than boys were. Then again, it was moments like this, moments where she'd hold out her hand toward the Latina she cared for and hope like Hell she'd actually understood this time, that the blond could only thank God for the boy's oblivousness. "… after what happened." Looking away from the pained cinnamon colored orbs that watched her so intently, the spell between them long broken, she ran her lithe fingers up her arm, resting them at her elbows. "I miss hanging out with you, San, and…" And our sweet lady kisses. "… so much more.

"That's why I want you to know how much. We used to sing it back when the CD came out back when we were always together. So… please…" The girl's voice was begging slightly, and something inside the caramel skinned young woman warned her that too much had already been said, done. And she was going to be singing about her feelings now? So far, in a two or three hour time limit, the Latina had been more than finished with emotions and everything they brought with them. After all, things like that usually didn't end well. "Please, San… listen."

The moment the soft sound of guitar strings had begun, Santana found herself quickly making her way out of the room, running as far away and as far as her legs could take her.

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Santana didn't know how long it had been since she had climbed into the only safety she could think of, staring through the front window of her car almost as if it weren't even there, gazing numb as she tried her hardest not to allow the tears to fall. Her breath had become haggard, and in pained her so much to actually breathe in and out, forcing the oxygen down past the emotions she had been barely successfully holding back. Her knuckles had turned white against the steering wheel, and the keys dangled lifelessly in the ignition as the motor continued to hum, waiting for it's owner to decide whether or not they should leave the school parking lot. The girl felt lost, alone, and she felt as if the world had pitted itself against her as it all felt apart around her.

With a sigh, she forced her hands to let go of the wheel, feeling the painful sting one got when their skin ended up sticking to anything, but it didn't matter to her. Running shaking fingers through her silky dark mane, she tried to focus herself, her thoughts rampant and uncontrollable. A part of her chastised herself for running, for not waiting to hear the words and lyrics that the blond had to sing. The other had grown silent, but she knew that it was this part of herself that had led her to feel as confused and frustrated as she was. When had all of these thoughts, these feelings, even begun? Had they always just… been there? Had she simply just ignored them when they got to be too real?

She didn't raise her head when she heard her car door open, or even when a tall, bulking figure had sat themselves quietly in the passenger side seat beside hr. Silence reigned at the sound of the door slamming shut, and she wondered why this person, this fool, had come into her car of all places after everything that had been going on. Both waited, probably so that the other could break through the tension that had somehow formed between them. But still, neither spoke. Until…

"Mister Shue wanted me to tell you the assignment for next week." His voice was plain, not an ounce of authorativeness in it, and she could feel his gaze, soft and caring, upon her. Swallowing the lump that was forming in her throat, she gave a nod, keeping her dark eyes firmly on the distance so that the male wouldn't be able to see the sadness that echoed and pooled within them. "And you looked like you needed an ear… or something."

"What do you care, Puckerman?" Her voice shook with the things she couldn't dare say, the feelings she'd been trying and failing to hide since arriving in her own car. "You're not getting in my pants, even if you try this touchy-feely crap." She paused, clearing her throat and mind as she leaned back against her seat and crossed her arms defiantly. "Go try it on Berry or something, cause it ain't workin' on me."

The mohawked male hunched over slightly, resting his arms against his knees, soft eyes gazing into the distance as thoughts moved through his head, carefully picking and choosing what he had to say. Placing his chin on his gathered hands, he spoke the only thing he could, soft and casual, a hint of regret in his voice. "You know… we used to be friends."

The Latina instantly downcasted her brown eyes to her lap, watching as her fingers idly plaued with themselves, letting the feelings of shame and guilt flow through her as memories played in her mind. If it hadn't been for teenaged horomones, she knew all too well that they would still be wrecking havoc to the Lima populous, uncaring of gender or of whom liked whom and such nonsense. After it had though, everything had changed, and it was then that she had tried to rid herself of the thoughts that plagued her mind about the blue eyed beauty she had befriended long, long ago. She didn't have the heart to tell him that she had gone to him, too afraid to admit to wanting and needing her female best friend, and had gone too far for the sake of proving to herself that she wasn't 'that way'.

"You wouldn't understand," she whispered softly, stubbornly, lifting her fingertips to wipe the tears that were beginning to form. She felt a hand gently touch her raised arm, and she finally turned to look at the young man in his eyes: firm, yet caring and loving- not in the relationship or sexual way either. The male cracked a gentle grin, watching her knowingly as emotions flickered through her cinnamon colored orbs.

"Try me."

With a sigh, running her neatly polished nails through her hair once more, she did her best to explain it all to him- from the moment the blond had approached her to talk to Miss Holiday to the song they had sung in Glee, from the day she recalled meeting the little girl who would grow to be the person she adored (which, strangely, was the same day and moment she had met him, the boy who had been pulling ponytails on the playground) to the eruptions of feelings she'd been trying to ignore, by throwing herself at people whom she didn't care for and vice versa, all the while searching for something she felt while simply standing in the girl's presence. Years and years worth of pent of fear and affection flowed freely down her cheeks as she continued through her story, and the boy beside her silently listened, nodding as he took in everything she was throwing at him. She felt herself cring, ashamed, when his name became involved, and with a furrow of his brow, she knew that the countless amounts of times she had turned to him, seeking him out for a brief romp, had tainted the memories they shared of those times- yet he still just nodded and listened. It felt strange to her how easily the story and come from her lips, as well as how well he seemed to be taking it all. A part of her felt relieved, thankful to finally tell someone who didn't stare at her with those beautiful blue doe eyes, who didn't send a sharp pang of hurt and regret through her at the speed of sound. As she finished, they sat, awkward and unsure what to say next now that she had opened up and become honest with him. After a moment, the Latina found herself saying the words she had decreed long, long ago would never leave her sub-conscious. "… I think I'm gay, Puck."

It felt as if eons had passed before she had heard him move, let alone say anything, but she knew by the digital clock on her dashboard that it had been probably a minute max. Nonetheless, it was the longest minute in the history of man. "Wow." He sounded truly astonished, surprised, and the young woman once more lowered her head, expecting him to leave her there and never look back. What surprised her the most was what he said next. "You know… I always kinda figured something was up with you." Brown eyes quickly turned to look at him, fear crossing over them as she wondering if anyone else had seen through her many masks. "Don't look at me like that, Lopez. You look like someone told you I hit your cat with a lawnmower." He offered her a knowing, laughing smile. "And, trust me… I didn't know. Not fully. I just knew you kinda went through guys like tissues, and you were never really into it when we were doing it. Just thought you were trying to be the atypical cheerleader or whatever." Relief filled her, probably much more than it should have considering the fact that he had more or less called her the high school slut. All in all, she couldn't really look back and deny it, could she?

Softly, she heard herself whisper, "Trust me, I didn't either."

Noah nodded in response, quiet once more, questions he wasn't sure if he could ask, hopeful to be the good friend as he cast his eyes toward the hurting woman beside him. He was stuck, curious if the subject had become taboo or if the floor was still open since it seemed like the car had become a safe space between the two of them. Cursing his luck to the wind, he looked to her, seriousness in his eyes as he asked the question that had been tantalizing him. "So… what're you gonna do to get your girl back?"

"She's with Artie." Her words were soft, void of emotions, and he knew that the phrase had to be something that she had been repeating in her head for what he could guess since the day the blond chose her boyfriend over the Latina.

"Since when have boyfriends matter to you?" he teased, nudging her with a laugh on his lips, and he watched as a slow, sad smile crossed her features. At least he got that much, he mused to himself as his own toothy grin lessened, acknowledging that perhaps it hadn't been his best choice of words. "Besides… Hate to say it, but you have to admit that Artie's her best choice right now." In seconds, the smile she once had had disappeared, a venomous gaze in it's place, and, if looks could kill, he knew that he would have met his maker several times over. "Hey, hey- before you kick me outta your car so you can run me over with it, maybe you should realize that he's her safe choice."

"What do you mean 'safe', you piece-a-"

"He'd never intentionally hurt her." Puck's eyes were firm, this time showing just how in charge he could get if he truly wanted to. The girl silently wilted under his gaze, although he could tell that she probably was still imagining him in countless painful deaths. "Think about it, S- How many times have you let her in, only to tell her that she didn't matter? How many times have you given her hope, only to kill it, then add salt to the wound?" The Latina's animosity for the male diminished, losing herself in the millions of memories she held tightly onto, moving through them mentally, knowing the answer to his inquiries all too well. "That's what I thought." His tone wasn't gloating, merely pushing the fact that what he was saying was true. "She probably doesn't want to rush headlong into something if you'll just pack up and leave at the first sign of trouble."

"I get it." Her words were bitter, but they were tinged with the tears that were once again beginning to form. "I screwed up. A lot."

"… She does still want you, you know." Santana looked at him, her stare questioning if she had heard him right. The mohawked male simply gave her a gentle grin, knowing somehow just how much she wanted those words to be true. "You didn't see her after you left. She looked like someone just kicked a duck. In front of her."

An exasperated sigh escaped the girl, once more running her hands through her hair, trying her hardest not to let the tears she felt sting her eyes fall. "I don't know what to do!" She was frustrated, pained and rightly so considering the situation she was in. Hell, he'd probably be in the same position she was, not that he'd cry or anything. 'Cause dudes just don't do that unless someone was dead. And even then, the dude code said not to cry. He ran a large hand across her back, rubbing gently as her body began to shake with sobs, and he knew the moment she looked up to him through the curtains of dark strands, streams of her broken heart running down her cheeks. With a soft voice, he heard her ask the question he'd been waiting for. "What do I do?"

"Prove yourself to her. Listen to what she has to say. Don't run or throw yourself around when she says something you don't like." He shrugged, unsure what else there was to say to the Latina. "Hell… that's what I did.

Santana raised a wondering eyebrow, curious just what he meant with those words, but she kept her lips shut. His eyes had glazed over with a pain he'd never allowed himself to talk about, and even though she had gone and shared as much as she had, she could only figure that she had enough torn up feelings for the both of them. For the time being, she'd let it go, but there were no promises for later. Speaking of later… "You said there's an assignment for next week?"

"Yeah." He nodded, bringing himself back into their shared reality, placing his arms across his lap and leaning against them. "It's a theme. One that you should probably pay attention to." He paused for a beat, opening his mouth before the girl beside him did, not wanting to tempt fate and bait her anger once more. "Honesty."

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Orokid: Okay… before you get mad at me and tell me that I didn't have her sing a song at all, let me explain- I really was going to use a song. "Last Kiss" by Taylor Swift, to be exact. Or was it "Breathe" by Taylor Swift? I think they both were on my list, so whatever. That said, I didn't expect really for Santana to really leave until I realized that… well, if something got too hard to handle, wouldn't you book rather than meet them head-on? After all, Santana doesn't have much confidence when it comes to her feelings for Brittany, even though she is probably one of the most confident people I've seen on television these days (which isn't saying much, because I don't watch TV other than Glee). So when Brittany, who seems to let everything more or less hang off her sleeve at times, even while trying to hide it from everyone else, started to talk about feelings and whatnot, it seemed plausible that Santana would ditch as fast as she could.

Moving on… I have several ideas about what I want to have happen for the next chapter, especially now that San has to think of something to be honest about after telling Puck the truth. Perhaps..? Meh, maybe. It's on the back-burner for now. I'll see how I'm feeling as I write. :D If you guys have ideas, comments, reviews, whatever, please don't hold back. I'm curious and hopeful to see what you all think of this chapter. Until the next one comes, I'll read and comment on your reviews.