Author's Note: Here's the new chapter. It's Brittany's 13th birthday. The next chapter is going to jump a few years again. I haven't even started writing it and I'm also struggling through the next chapter of my other fic, so I'm not sure when the chapter will be up. I'm trying to make each chapter longer as they get older and Santana matures intellectually. I hope you enjoy this one. Reviews are always appreciated so I know people are liking (or hating) the story.
Age 13
The summer before seventh grade Noah Puckerman got a mohawk, picked up smoking cigarettes, and told everybody to call him Puck. He was grooming his badass image, so I was surprised when I learned that he had also taken up the guitar. I caught him talking to the music teacher at school about bar chords. He made me promise not to tell anyone.
"Chicks dig it, but the guys think only queers like that Hummel kid sing," he had said. I made him promise me something in return for keeping his secret. He said I could borrow his guitar and he would help me learn a song if I wanted.
So Puck came over and he taught me We're Going To Be Friends by the White Stripes on his guitar. He said it was easy enough that I'd be able to learn it even though I don't play.
"Okay, so there and there," Puck said, moving my fingers into the correct positions. "And you're going to pick this string and then this one."
I plucked the strings like he told me.
"Is that right?" I asked.
"Yeah, just make sure you're pressing hard enough," he said. "Like this." He reached up and wrapped his hand around mine, pressing down on the strings. I glanced up at him.
For a guy that was such a douche sometimes, Puck could be really sweet. Even though I was kind of blackmailing him, I was glad he was being so nice about it.
I respected Puck because he did what he wanted. But I could tell that he was absolutely terrified most of the time. Some of the eighth graders had taken him under their wing because he was old for our grade. I saw them smoking behind the school sometimes. I knew that Puck was going to be popular. The other girls were already starting to be interested in him. At Hilary Crawford's end of summer pool party, girls were crowding around him, asking to touch his mohawk and laughing at his jokes. I knew that his social stock was going to skyrocket with the new haircut and attitude. I also knew it would be wise to get in on the action. So when he leaned towards me during the guitar lesson, I didn't stop him from kissing me.
His lips weren't chapped like the first time I kissed him, but they weren't soft like Brittany's. Immediately he got handsy, taking his hands off the guitar and putting them on the back of my neck and waist. It felt like he was trying to suck my lips off my face. After a good thirty seconds of him slobbering on me, he moved one hand from my neck to my thigh. I shoved him off.
"Don't get ahead of yourself Puckerman," I said, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.
"Come on Santana. You know you're into this," he said, gesturing towards himself.
"In your pre-pubescent dreams," I replied, rolling my eyes and standing up. "You should probably go. My mom is gonna be home soon."
He stood up and ran his hand over his mohawk. "We both know that we're the best looking people in the school. This" He waved at himself then at me. "Is gonna happen."
"Don't hold your breath," I said coolly. I knew Puck and I knew that he liked a challenge. Honestly though, the idea of "this" was not appealing to me. I told myself it was because Puck could be a dick, but I couldn't stop myself from thinking about Brittany; Brittany, who was expecting me really soon.
"Think about it," Puck said.
"I'll give you the guitar back tomorrow," I replied, showing him the way out. He stopped at the front door and leaned against the door frame.
"The Puckasaurus gets what he wants," he said, winking at me before turning to leave. I shut the door behind him and leaned against it.
I had been planning on going after Puck this year. He would be able to get me into older kids' parties, but something had felt so wrong about kissing him. It wasn't even that I didn't like him because I think he's a funny guy. He can be an ass, but he's not that bad. Out of all the guys in our grade, he's better than most of them. His best friend, that idiot Finn Hudson, is as dumb as a sack of rocks. At least Puck has personality and he's definitely good-looking. I wasn't sure what felt so bad about kissing him. I couldn't help but compare his kiss to Brittany's. I had kissed plenty of people this year during games of Spin the Bottle, but there was something about kissing Brittany that was different. Not only because she's a girl, that's part of it, but because it had felt really good when I knew it wasn't supposed to.
I thought maybe it was normal; I thought that maybe other girls also wanted to be that close with their friends. Maybe other girls wanted to be with their best friend all the time too. Maybe it was normal for my pulse to speed up when Brittany ran her fingers through my hair, or hugged me especially close, or kissed my cheek, or trailed her fingertips down my arm. It's normal to want to be close to someone you care about. It doesn't make me gay or anything.
I went back down to the basement to grab the guitar. Brittany was expecting me at four, and it was already four fifteen. I ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time, to grab shoes and my cellphone. There were two texts from Brittany.
"hi san. its 4:10. are you coming?"
"you didnt forget me right?"
I texted her back quickly. I was usually never late for her.
"of course i didnt forget you b. im coming."
My bike was leaning against the wall in the garage. I had been riding my bike to Brittany's since I was eight. She only lived a few blocks away, so I managed to convince my parents that I could manage biking there by myself. Lately I've been walking because riding a bike seems a little childish, but right now I was willing to risk looking stupid to get there a little faster. I slung the guitar across my back and grabbed the handlebars to wheel the bike out of the garage. Hopping onto the bike, I pedaled as fast as I could down the street.
When I saw the Pierce's house, their red station wagon was sitting in the driveway and Brittany was sitting on the front step. She had jumped up and run down the driveway when she saw me round the corner. I screeched to a halt by the car and tossed the bike on the lawn.
"Happy birthday B," I said, pulling her in for a hug. "Sorry I was late."
"It's okay," she said. She took a step back, but grabbed my hands and held them in between us. "Is that your guitar?"
"No, it's Puck's," I replied. "He's letting me borrow it."
"I didn't know you played guitar," she said.
"Let's go inside and I'll explain why I have it," I said. I dropped one of her hands and pulled her towards the house with the other. We went up to her bedroom and sat down on the bed.
"So," she said, resting a hand on my leg. Brittany likes to maintain physical contact. She communicates with and understands body language like no one else I've ever met.
"I have your present," I said.
"Is it a sea creature?" she said excitedly.
"What? Britt, no," I laughed. I pulled the guitar around and put my fingers on the G chord. "It's a song. Puck taught me how to play it."
"You're going to play the guitar?" she asked.
"Yes," I said. I was beginning to get nervous. What if this was a lame present. What was I thinking?
"And sing?" she asked.
"Yes."
"At the same time?"
"Yeah, Britt. That's how a song works," I said.
"Wow. That sounds hard," she said. I laughed.
"Yeah. Well, I'm going to try at the very least," I said. "Ready?"
"Yes," she said, nodding. I took a deep breath and began to play.
"Fall is here, hear the yell, back to school, ring the bell, brand new shoes, walking blues, climb the fence, books and pens, I can tell that we're going to be friends."
Halfway through the song, I chanced looking up from the chords to look at Brittany. There were tears in her eyes. She could see that I was about to stop, so she shook her head. I kept going. I wanted to watch her, but I was worried that I would mess up if I looked away from my hands.
"We don't notice any time pass, we don't notice anything, we sit side by side in every class, teacher thinks that I sound funny, but she likes the way you sing. Tonight I'll dream while in my bed, when silly thoughts go through my head about the bugs and alphabet, and when I wake tomorrow I'll bet that you and I will walk together again. I can tell that we're going to be friends."
I plucked the last chords. Looking up at Brittany, I cleared my throat. She wiped away a few lingering tears then launched herself at me. She hugged me so close I was worried she was going to break the guitar.
"Britt," I said. "B, let me move the guitar at least." She let go and I moved the guitar. Then she went right back to hugging me.
"That was the sweetest thing ever," she said into my shoulder.
"You didn't think it was dumb?" I asked. She pulled back.
"You learned to play an instrument and sang for me," she said. "It wasn't dumb."
"I was worried you would want a real present. Not some stupid song," I mumbled.
"San, when you give someone a song, you're really giving them your feelings. And that's the best present ever," she said.
"'Kay good," I replied softly. Brittany leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on my cheek. My eyes flitted over to meet hers. Her face was so close to mine. I could see her gaze trail down to my lips and I did the same. A little voice in my head was saying don't, but I ignored it.
When her lips met mine, it was like being burnt to a crisp and doused in ice cold water at the same time. They were so soft. Our lips moved like we'd been kissing each other forever. It felt like we fit together. I could feel her smiling into the kiss. My stomach dropped when I felt her tongue graze my lower lip.
She's a good kisser. The thought popped into my head before I could stop it and it brought everything crashing down. I pulled away. Brittany drew in a shaky breath before opening her eyes and smiling at me.
"The only thing sweeter than a song is sweet lady kisses," she said quietly. I stood up from the bed.
"You know we're just messing around right?" I said. The words tasted bad as they fell out of my mouth. The look on Brittany's face told me exactly why it hadn't felt good to say them.
"I don't…" she started.
"Did I tell you? Puck kissed me today. He's totally hot right?" I said. I thought she was going to push the subject of "just messing around", but she let it drop.
"Yeah," she said, looking down and picking at a thread poking out of her quilt.
"Now we just have to find you a guy," I said, plopping down next to her. I felt guilty for shutting her down, but I was scared.
"Definitely," she replied half-heartedly. I reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear.
"B?"
"Yeah?"
"Happy birthday," I said.
