It was hot. Although only covered by a thin t-shirt and the sheet, Santana felt the sweat dripping down her back along the valley of her spine. She couldn't sleep like this. She rolled over, letting out a heavy sigh and stared at the ceiling grumpily. Why had she thought cheerleading would be a good idea anyways? In honesty, she knew why- she wanted to be popular and she wanted to do something with Brit. Brit's amazing sense of rhythm, her intense dance moves, the way her body could bend... well cheerleading was the obvious choice. Despite Brit's natural talent and Santana's athleticism, making Sue Sylvester's team meant they needed the experience a two-week camp would afford them. It didn't mean that Santana had to like it. It certainly didn't make this stupid cabin any more bearable.

Santana kicked off her sheet violently, trying to get cool. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, staring off into the dark room. Her gaze fell on Brittany, asleep in a bunk only a few feet away. Santana watched the gentle rise and fall of the thin sheet and realized that, despite the heat, she wanted so badly to just climb in bed with her best friend. The pair had been nearly inseparable since that night back in December when Santana had ended up in Brit's backyard. They had kissed just a few more times since then and, although Santana wanted to go further with the girl, just kissing still made her heart jump out of her chest.

They never talked about kissing, and Santana knew it was mostly because she still couldn't wrap her head around it. If they didn't talk about it then it didn't have to be real. She didn't have to justify what they were doing, or label it, or decide if it was right or wrong. She could just bury it in the back of her mind with all of the other feelings. Even if she buried those feelings, she couldn't avoid the fact that she missed the physical contact their sleepovers all summer had allowed them. In the two months of summer before camp, the pair had slept at one another's houses almost every night. She missed the gentle grip of tangled pinkies, the feeling of the girl's smooth thigh pressed up against hers, and the soft, warm breath as it washed over her cheek or the back of her neck. She felt her cheeks flush at the thought, followed by that familiar warm tingly sensation rising in her stomach. She looked around at the six other girls sharing their cabin. They all seemed to be asleep. Santana carefully swung her legs over the edge of the cot trying to avoid squeaking the springs. The dusty wooden floor felt cool under her feet as she tiptoed over to the blonde's bed. She stood above the girl for a second, trying to gather her courage. She was nervous again, afraid that Brit wouldn't want this. She was afraid that this was going too far. After all, they were in a room full of other girls. What if somebody woke up and found her sleeping in Brit's bed. What if they thought that Santana was… well she wasn't.

Besides, she had already shown the girls at this camp that she wasn't somebody to be messed with. On the first night at dinner, some prissy bitch had tried to give her attitude about how she and Brit couldn't sit at a certain table because they had never cheered before. As the blonde later put it, Santana had "slashed her with her words". The dark haired girl smirked as she thought of the stunned look on that face. As it turned out, the girl had been somewhat of a "queen bee" at this camp the past couple of years. Not anymore. And although Santana wouldn't say that she had taken over the girl's position, she was pretty confident nobody would cross her.

She felt a pair of blue eyes following her back and forth, only then realizing that her nervous pacing had woken her friend up. Santana's eyes met Brit's and she leaned over and pressed a light kiss to her pale cheek. The dark haired girl motioned at Brit to scoot over and quietly climbed into the bed. The cot was tiny and, with both of them lying on their sides, Santana's face was just inches from Brit's. She glanced quickly at the girl's lips and leaned in for a proper kiss. Brit didn't miss a beat and started kissing back, immediately making Santana's muscles tense as the heat in her stomach flared. She giggled quietly at the smacking sounds their mouths made and felt Brit smile into the kiss before the blonde ran her tongue lightly along Santana's lower lip, wordlessly asking for more. Santana was shaking a little from nervousness as she opened her lips and pressed her body in closer to the blonde. For a second she was afraid that her friend would misread her tremors and stop, but then Brittany's tongue tentatively pressed into her mouth. The shorter girl gasped a little at the closeness and the fresh intimacy of it all and it felt as though there were stars shooting throughout her body. Santana slipped one hand beneath Brit's head and tangled her fingers in the loose blonde locks while the other arm wrapped around the small of the girl's back. Brit took the cue and her hands were suddenly all over Santana—soft fingertips sweeping along Santana's jaw, tracing little lines along her back and, finally, playing nervously with the hem of her t-shirt.

They both stopped for a moment as Brittany looked questioningly at Santana. Santana just nodded and Brit carefully slid her fingers beneath the soft fabric of her shirt. Santana felt as though she was buzzing with electricity as the girl's fingers played lightly along her hip bones, circled her belly button, up to just under her sports bra. The electricity turned to heat and fireworks as the girl's fingers played across the skin-tight fabric of the bra. Fumbling a little bit, Brit's hands circled around the curves, squeezing gently. Fingertips brushed over a nipple, erect through the fabric, and Santana felt a jolt and the heat rising. The shorter girl quickly pulled the blonde in for another deep kiss and slid her own hands up under Brittany's shirt, feeling the silky skin of her back and shoulders. She let out something between a giggle and a gasp when she realized that the girl wasn't wearing a bra. In one swift move she rolled so that she had the girl beneath her. Holding herself up with one hand, the other played slowly along the girl's side until her fingertips smoothed along the curve of breast. The shirt had bunched up with Santana's movements, and the girl found her gaze wandering up toned abs to where the shirt hung, just below the swell of the girl's breasts that Santana's fingers now played across. She bit her lip as she circled closer to the nipple, finally flicking a finger quickly across the bud. Brit closed her eyes and pressed her head back into the pillow, a bead of sweat rolling down her forehead. Her lips were parted just slightly and a gasp escaped from them as Santana tweaked the nipple again. Hearing this sound of pleasure, one harsh, sudden throb between her legs brought Santana back to reality.

Santana froze, now acutely aware that she was straddling Brit's thigh and that Brit had probably felt her tense just a second ago. She couldn't believe herself. Brit was probably totally grossed out—Santana had practically humped her leg. Sure, it was one thing kissing and stuff. That was all in fun. But kissing somebody wasn't supposed to turn you on that much. Not unless you had real feelings for that somebody. And Santana didn't have feelings for her best friend. Who was a girl. Santana didn't have feelings for girls. Right?

She had to get out of there. She quickly untangled herself from the blonde and practically fell out of the bed in her hurry to get away. Brit grabbed her hand before she had a chance to sprint back to her bed and Santana stood rooted to the wooden floor for a second. She was ashamed to turn around and let Brit see the tears forming in her eyes and she was afraid to let go of that hand. So she just stood there, unsure of what to do. Brit squeezed her hand and tugged gently at it, urging her to turn around. Santana quickly wiped her eyes with her free hand and turned to face the blonde. Brit was smiling up at her sadly. "Come here," she whispered, grabbing Santana's other hand and pulling her gently towards her.

Santana leaned down and kissed the blonde gently on the forehead. "I can't. I'm sorry." she choked out as she turned away again, her throat tight. She didn't look back again, tiptoeing back to her bunk and lying down to face the wall. She was too afraid to see those blue eyes watching her. The tears began to roll down her cheeks and pattered gently against the pillow beneath her head, sounding like raindrops on a roof. She tried to keep her breathing even, to keep her body from shaking—she didn't want those blue eyes to see that she was crying. I'm sorry she mouthed, over and over. I'm sorry.