A/N: I know I haven't updated in a long time. I was out of town then I sort of lost interest and forgot about the story. But here's a new chapter! If you like it, let me know & if you don't, I guess you can let me know if you want? I also added a link to my tumblr for all the tumblr users. It's adriannnnna . tumblr . com :) Like I said, review if you want. I appreciate it! I also won't ditch all of you again, promise.
I didn't know who woke up first because we both shifted at the same time. I had my back to Santana all night and when I finally woke up it was killing me. I turned my body as easily as I could to face her just as she leaned more onto her stomach. The first thing I saw were her eyes, then I realized her arm was still across me. She realized it too because she casually removed it from my waist and rested it against her stomach. I followed her arm with my eyes and she didn't say anything about it, but she avoided direct eye contact with me. I gave her a small smirk after she had set her arm back down but my eyes betrayed that I wasn't happy about her missing arm.
"Your bed is comfortable," I told her. I felt like I was laying on a soft, but firm, pile of feathers.
She nodded at me with her eyes half closed. I didn't know what time it was but it felt like I hadn't gotten enough sleep. I could have closed my eyes and fell back asleep again, but Santana had other ideas.
She shot up and jumped out of the bed so fast I didn't even have time to blink. She stood at the edge of her bed and looked towards her closed door before she turned back to face me.
"Are...you okay?" I asked. Her eyes narrowed slightly before she brushed her hair off her shoulder and replied, "Of course. I just thought I heard something."
"What did you think you heard?"
"Someone, but I know who it is."
I nodded my head and sat up. My eyes had adjusted to the light and for the first time I could see her room clearly. It turns out her walls were not entirely black, but they had a pattern on them. I started to squint to see what the pattern was but Santana's body appeared in front of me and she blocked my vision.
"It's getting late," she told me. Since I was on the bed and she was standing, she was taller than me. I looked up at her. Her arms were resting on her hips and her hip was slightly cocked. She looked impatient. I searched for a clock but I never found one. "It's almost 10," she told me.
I was amazed that she could go from extremely groggy to drill sergeant wide awake in under a minute. I yawned before I finally swung my legs over the bed and stood up. Santana had started towards the door and I followed, avoiding the mirror by her door because I probably looked like shit. When I left her room, I took a good look around me. Her house was spotless. If you hadn't known there was a party here last night, you wouldn't know there was a party here last night. I followed Santana down the stairs and we entered the kitchen.
She started opening cupboards and looking for something. I pulled out a stool at the bar so I could sit down. Santana moved from the cupboards to the pantry to the fridge before she sat down next to me. "There's no more," she said, frowning.
"No more what?"
"Alcohol," she breathed, laying her head down on the immaculately clean countertop.
I let out a small laugh and rubbed my hand over her back a few times. She raised her head back up and turned her head to look at me. "Are you hungry?"
"Starving," I replied with a wink.
She smirked and stood up again. She walked back over to the fridge and started taking out a few items. She had several eggs, some milk from a brand I had never heard of and a container of creamer. She set the stuff down in front of me and moved on to a cupboard above the stove. She set more stuff down in front of me—cinnamon, nutmeg and vanilla extract, I noticed—then wandered into the pantry. At first I had no idea what she was going to make until she came out of the pantry carrying a loaf of bread. I smiled. French toast is a special occasion luxury in my world.
After Santana had all the stuff set out, she stood in front of an extremely fancy coffee maker and started turning it on to make coffee. "Can I help?" I offered.
"Do you know how to make French toast?" she asked, eying me.
I gazed at her and shook my head slowly. I actually didn't know how to cook anything at all. Well, other than top ramen, but everybody knows how to make top ramen. Santana nodded at me like she understood me and started mixing stuff together. I tried to watch her and learn so that I could make this for myself someday but it was sort of boring and I zoned out a few times. Santana had gotten a phone call and spent most of the cooking time talking to someone in Spanish, which I found very impressive because I failed Spanish, so I just drew random patterns on the countertop and waited for her to finish.
She finally put a plate in front of me and sat down. I poured some of the coffee into a dainty little coffee cup and put just as much creamer in to cool it down. Coffee is always too hot for me so whenever I order it, I have to ask for kid's temperature. We started eating in silence.
"So where are your parents?" I asked. It seemed like a simple question and a conversation starter.
Santana finished her bite before answering. "Some medical conference. My dad's a doctor."
My eyes widened. "A doctor? I've never met a doctor." I realized after I said it that it sounded dumb because I had met several doctors in my lifetime, but I had never known one on a personal level.
She just shrugged. "It's not really a big deal. He's gone a lot." She was fighting it but I could tell by the look in her eyes that she was a little sad. I think I would be sad, too, if my dad was away a lot. My mom, too. They're always around. I can't imagine what it would be like if they weren't.
"He just leaves you here alone?" I asked.
She shrugged again. "It's not really a big deal. And besides," she gazed around the room, "I find ways to manage." I didn't know what she was referring to, and I didn't ask.
I took another bite. "Do they know you throw wild parties when they're not home?"
A big 'ha' escaped Santana's mouth. "No way! They would kill me, are you kidding?"
"Then how do you get away with it?"
"Brittany, who's going to tell them? Me?"
"Your neighbors," I said. I took a sip of the coffee.
She shook her head again. "The houses are far enough apart to not cause any problems. And it helps that my parents do not get along with the neighbors."
"Why?" I asked. I started tracing patterns on the countertop again.
I saw Santana's body slowly tense up. Her eyes flickered away from mine for a brief moment. "They never have," she replied quietly. I didn't say anything in return.
We spent the rest of breakfast talking about little things like work and school. I would talk about Sugar and she would just look at me. She didn't share anything too personal with me. I didn't pry for answers because she shared enough last night.
After we had finished eating we went back up to Santana's room. She laid down on her bed and I laid down next to her. Our bodies were touching and it suddenly felt so warm in the room. I looked at Santana out of the corner of my eye and she was looking back at me. The longer we laid next to each other, the warmer it got. I could smell her from laying so close. She did smell just like her pillow and it was intoxicating. I started feeling a little dizzy from that combined with how warm it was. I finally had to sit up to get some air. I had no idea why I was so hot. I wondered if Santana was hot, too. I wanted to ask her but she spoke first.
"I guess I can take you home now."
"Are you trying to get rid of me?" I teased playfully.
She shook her head. "Of course not. But that was my mom on the phone earlier."
"Okay?" Was I supposed to know what that meant? Because I didn't.
"They'll be home soon," she elaborated. "And they don't like it when I have people over without them here."
"What, will they think I'm your booty call?" I joked, but Santana just frowned. She really wasn't into any of these even remotely gay references. I shrugged to myself.
I got off the bed and walked over to my clothes I had left on the ground. I slid Santana's shorts off my legs and set them on the bed. I quickly glanced at Santana and she wasn't looking at me. I pulled my own shorts back on and fastened the button. I took her shirt off and set it next to her shorts. I picked up my shirt and while I was trying to fix it, I noticed she was looking at me. It was subtle, but I could still feel her eyes on me. I started feeling really hot again. I don't know what it was, but something about her looking at me right now was incredibly appealing. I liked that she was paying attention to me. I put my shirt back on as slowly as I could.
I sat down on the bed to put my shoes on and I felt something warm behind me. It was Santana. She was on her knees pressed against my back. I was about to turn around to ask her what she was doing when I felt the hair tie being pulled from my hair. She ran her fingers through my hair so gently because it was a tangled mess. I just sat there and learned against her as she brushed out my hair. I forgot the reason I was even sitting down. She didn't say anything as she began to pull my hair up into another ponytail. The feeling of her fingers in my hair was amazing. I already loved people playing with my hair but when she did it, it was ten times better. She was careful not to pull at my hair as she put the hair tie back in. She kneeled next to me on the bed and just smiled. I smiled back as a way of saying thank you. It was still really hot in here. Did she turn the air off or something?
I slipped my shoes back on and stood up. I walked over to the mirror by Santana's door and looked at myself for the first time today. I looked tired and my makeup was smudged a bit, but my hair looked great. I wiped away the mascara and saw Santana come up behind me. She had her keys in one hand and her phone in the other. I stepped aside and said "After you" with a smile before following her out of her room.
She held the garage door open for me and I walked inside. Her garage, the real garage, had that musky, woody, tire smell that I loved. I took a few deep breaths and basked in the scent. I blame my dad for my love of boy smells.
"It's this one," Santana said, pointing to a very nice, very new black car. She hit a button on the wall to raise the garage door and I walked over to the passenger side. Santana unlocked the doors and I climbed inside. Her seats weren't leather, which I liked, and it looked like no one had ever sat in here before. I had hoped my shoes weren't dirty or anything because I didn't want to risk messing up her car. It still had that new car smell. I felt like I was in Heaven. Everything Santana had smelled amazing. I could smell her stuff forever. I thought about telling her that but I didn't want to come across weird.
Santana got in the car and turned it on. Cold air blasted in my face, which was a relief because I was still feeling very, very warm. She backed out of the driveway and onto the street. "You have a really nice car," I told her, running my hand along the door handle.
"It's alright," she replied. I stifled a giggle because she hadn't actually said something that was funny. I don't know why I found it funny.
I gave her directions to my house. I lived about twenty minutes away. Suddenly I felt really bad for making her drive all this way just to take me home. I told her that, but she brushed it off. "It's fine, Brittany," she said. I hoped she wasn't lying.
We pulled onto my street. I suddenly felt like I was in Mayberry. While Santana's street had been swanky and glamorous, my street was simple and rural. I lived on the kind of street where people didn't lock their doors and where you would be crucified if a party was thrown. I pointed to a house on the right and Santana stopped in front of the driveway. "Your house is cute," she said.
"It's alright," I mocked. She stuck her tongue out at me.
I started to open the door when Santana said "Hey, Brittany?"
I pulled the door closed and looked at her. "Yeah?"
"I'm really glad you stayed over," Santana admitted.
I gave her an earnest smile. I was really glad I stayed over, too. Santana was so intriguing and all I wanted was to know who she was. "So am I. Thank you for everything."
She was looking directly into my eyes. I felt warm again even though the air was on me. I didn't know why she made it so hot but I realized that I actually liked it. I liked the way she was making me feel.
"Do you work tonight?" she asked.
"Yeah," I sighed. "But I am off for two days afterwards, so yay."
"So then I'll see you soon?"
"I will see you soon," I smiled. I liked the sound of that.
I got out of her car and closed the door. I waved goodbye and watched her drive away. I thought the warm feeling would go away after I said goodbye to Santana but it didn't. It got worse.
xXXx
I felt exhausted when I walked into my living room. I inhaled the sweet scent of flowers and looked around to see if anyone was home. My dad usually didn't work on Sundays but he wasn't planted in his usual spot on the couch so I thought he might be golfing with my uncle. I walked through the living room and looked into the kitchen. My mom was sitting at the island with her back to me. She had a magazine open. I looked at the oven and saw the timer was about to go off. I guess it was around lunchtime. I leaned against the wall and my mom looked over at me. "Oh, hey Britt."
I smiled at her. "What are you making?"
"Some lasagna for later. Your uncle and his family are coming over for dinner," she said, keeping a smile plastered on her face. I knew my mom didn't like my uncle and she sure as hell didn't like his wife. I thought they were nice but my mom always shook her head whenever I said that. "Do you work tonight?" she asked, moving her attention back to her magazine.
"Yep, 'til closing." My mom just nodded her head in response without looking at me. I hated when she did that because if I wasn't looking at her I would just think she ignored me. My whole family does it. They just assume I'm looking at them when they respond yet they don't look at me.
I walked back into the living room and looked out the back door. My mom loved gardening so my backyard was this huge array of flowers and trees and other plants. It looked like a jungle. When I was younger I would ask my mom if I could help her in her garden and she let me. I grew my very own tomato plant when I was 10 years old. I looked at the spot where I planted it and saw the one I had planted a few months ago. It was looking a little yellow and I frowned. I looked towards the kitchen at my mom, wondering if she had watered the plants yet. My mom is forgetful like me so I doubted she had.
I opened the back door and walked outside. It never gets particularly hot here but it was fairly warm outside. The sun was directly over the backyard. I walked around to the side of the house and turned the water on. I grabbed the hose and walked to where my tomato plant was. I made sure the hot water had run out before I started watering the plant. The soil was completely wet before I moved on to the next plant. We had several vegetable plants that were lined up against the farthest wall of the backyard. I had the water on really low because once I had the water on too high and I accidentally broke the stem of one of the roses.
It took me a few minutes but I made it through the vegetables. I knew the trees and grass and bushes had the water drip so I ignored those. I dragged the hose to the rose plants against the adjacent wall, but the water was no longer coming out. I shook the hose several times before it occurred to me to turn around and check to see if it was kinked. It was. I watered the roses and the gardenias and some exotic plant my mom got from Lowe's. I yanked the hose onto the patio to water the last few plants we had before throwing it onto the grass and shutting the water off. I wiped my forehead and examined the yard, making sure I got all the plants, then went back inside. We had plants in the front, too, but I was too tired to go out and water those ones as well. I would just remind my mom later.
Walking through the hallway, I took notice of the pictures we had hung up. It was a lot like Santana's house because there were a dozen pictures of me and my sister in different outfits and at different school functions. The difference, though, was while we had a lot of pictures of just us girls, there were several family pictures and ones of just my mom and dad. Santana's house just had the one from when she was a baby.
I stopped at my sister's room and leaned in her doorway. She was laying on her stomach with her phone in her hand. A Chris Brown song was playing quietly. "You said you'd be back before dawn," she said without taking her eyes away from her phone.
"Okay, mom," I replied.
My sister finally looked at me and rolled her eyes. "Sugar texted me asking if you made it home okay." She looked at me like I was Satan. I inhaled. Did I tell my sister I was with Sugar? I don't even remember. I just shrugged in response. "Where were you?"
"I stayed at a friend's house because Sugar bailed."
"A friend?"
"Yeah? We met at the party."
"You spent the night with someone you just met?" She went bug-eyed and her mouth fell open a little bit. Breanna was 15, which is not that young, but she is really conservative. She goes to church, like, three times a week.
I huffed loudly at her. "Yeah, we even slept together." It wasn't exactly untrue. I just liked to mess with my sister about stuff like that. It makes her go crazy. And she really drives me crazy sometimes because she's so judgmental of my actions so I do it to make her head spin. And it did. She sat up so fast and I wasn't sure it was possible, but her eyes got even bigger than they were before.
"Brittany that's disgusting."
Now it was my turn to roll my eyes at her. I turned around and left her room. I loved my sister but only in very small doses. She could be a lot of fun until something serious was brought up. I tried to keep my private life talks with her to a minimum, but she's still fun to mess with sometimes.
I opened the door to my room and collapsed onto my bed. I buried my head in the mess of blankets and closed my eyes for a long time. I don't think I fell asleep, but I had no idea what time it was. I hadn't looked at a clock all day, actually, except for when I woke up. I reached to my back pocket for my phone, but it wasn't there. I felt both of my front pockets and it wasn't there either. I sat up. I checked my bra and my pockets again, but my phone wasn't anywhere on me. "Shit," I mumbled before falling back into my bed and falling asleep for real.
I woke up disoriented and gazed around my room. I started really looking at my room and wondering if it was an accurate reflection of who I was. My walls were light blue and had flowers all over them. My furniture was all wooden. I didn't have a TV or a vanity or anything like that. What I did have was a desk, a dresser and a night stand next to my bed. It doesn't sound like a lot but my room isn't super big so it took up most of the space. I did have enough space to dance, because when I turned 14 Sugar and I pushed my bed against the wall, thus moving the rest of the furniture around too.
I don't think my room really said who I was. It seemed so boring and basic to me. Santana's room was dark, abnormally dark, which could be indicative of her personality but my room was average, old blue. Everyone had blue so it didn't say a whole lot. The flowers could say I'm childish or I'm old or I'm a hipster, but I wasn't any of those things; I just liked flowers. The wood furniture said my dad does woodwork in his spare time. That really had nothing to do with me because my sister's room was the same way. In fact, my sister had the exact same furniture in her room, bed and all, because my dad made all of it. My room said nothing about who I was.
Then I looked at my desk, the bulletin board to be precise. I stood up and walked over to my desk, pulled out the wooden chair, and sat down. I stared at the bulletin board in silence. I had had it since I was a little girl and had spent my whole life pinning stuff to it. There were pictures, pictures of people I wanted to be like or meet, pictures of places I had been or wanted to go, pictures of me and my friends and my family. There were also pictures of more flowers and things like ballet shoes, cool clothes and cats. I had clipped newspaper articles, printed quotes off the internet and even ripped a page out of a book and highlighted a phrase I really liked. I put stickers all over the place, including a sticker from the third grade that said "You're a star!" There were other random items like hair clips and magnets, really just whatever I could find that held a meaning or memory to me. In the middle of the board was a folded up piece of construction paper with my bucket list on it. I hadn't touched it in over a year. My hand started to reach up and unpin it, but I stopped myself and rested my arm on the desk. I don't know why I stopped myself. It was just a trivial list of things to do in life like become a famous dancer or go to Paris. But I couldn't bring myself to open it right now.
For the past maybe ten minutes I had been looking around my room and thinking if it said anything about me. The one piece of this room that actually did say something about me was the bulletin board and the list. If anyone wanted insight into my world all they had to do was look at the bulletin board and read the list. That was who I was. Something just wasn't clicking, though. The list didn't feel like me. Or maybe I was just feeling off today. Whatever it was, it was compelling me not to open the list. I didn't want to read about who I was, or who I used to be, anyway. Maybe I was changing. I still felt like me, but thinking about the person I know to be me, I had never felt farther away from being me in my life.
I stared at the list for a little while longer before standing up and walking over to my dresser. I glanced over at the clock on my night stand. 4:22 PM. I had to be at work in an hour and a half. I opened a drawer and stared at it for a minute. I don't think I was looking for anything. I needed to shower before work, so I closed the drawer and walked into the hall to grab a towel. I noticed my door was still open so I pulled it shut before walking into the bathroom.
I turned the water on and stripped out of my clothes. The water was warm, but not warm enough so I turned the knob closer to the H. I turned away from the water and let it fall on my back, releasing some of the tension I felt. I took a few deep breaths and started to wash my hair. I thought about a lot of things like work and friends, but all my thoughts led back to one thing and that thing was Santana. I smiled to myself thinking about her. I don't really know why I was thinking about her, other than the obvious reason that she's the newest person in my life. I thought about her house and her making me breakfast. Then I thought about sleeping in her bed and the way her arm swung over me and the way I wanted to cuddle with her. I didn't think too hard about any of these thoughts. Santana was new and interesting and that's why I couldn't get my mind off of her. One thing I did think hard about, though, was how badly I wanted to see her again.
xXXx
It was just me and Puck tonight. Sunday's were usually slow so it was okay that there were only two of us. Puck was mixing a drink and I was taking an order. I walked towards him to start a girl's drink. He started to speak right as I turned the blender on. His voice was muffled by the sound and we both laughed. He waited for me to finish before he repeated himself.
"I'm sorry for ditching you last night."
I hadn't been expecting an apology from him, mostly because I hadn't been angry with him. I knew Puck well enough to know he doesn't really give a shit about problems he caused so I was oddly touched. "All is forgiven," I said with a smile. I handed the girl her drink and walked to the other end of the counter to check on the deserts.
"Santana just gets on my nerves," he said. I glanced over at him and he was just standing against the counter. I didn't say anything at first and continued to cut a few pieces of cake that had just come out of the oven. "She's such a bitch sometimes," he went on. "She tries to act like she owns me or whatever. Every time I'm with a girl she has some stupid comment about what an ass I am."
I finally turned to look at him. I tried to study his expression; what I got from him wasn't anger, it was more like frustration. "Do you like Santana?"
Puck scrunched his face, and not in a good way, and turned his head to me. "She's an annoying bitch."
I took a breath. "She is my friend."
He looked at me like I was stupid. "You just met her last night and you were practically wasted."
"I had, like, two shots. And how do you know we're not friends?"
His head tilted and he kept the same expression. His tone changed to match. "You don't know anything about her."
"I know enough to know I like her, Puck. Just because you don't like her doesn't mean I can't. I am my own person," I sighed. I traced the design on the counter and avoided eye contact. I hated confrontation and this was turning into a fight.
"That's funny, because you always take Quinn's advice about staying away from me and you follow Sugar around like you're her bitch." My head snapped up at the word 'bitch.' Did Puck really just call me a bitch? My mouth fell open slightly and I just stood there looking at him, suddenly at a loss for words. He went on, though. "You don't know Santana."
"How the hell would you know, Puckerman? You're the one who took off and left me with her all night!" I came as close to shouting as I could without drawing attention from customers to us. Three girls had walked in and I walked to the register to take their orders. I was glad I had a small break to cool off. It was really out of character for me to get angry over something like this and honestly, I didn't even know why I was so angry at what he said. I guess it was offensive and he looked at me like I was dumb but it wasn't really a big deal. This was the Puck I knew and expected. I took a few deep breaths as I exchanged money with the girls. Puck had started making the first girl's drink and I started to make the second girl's. We didn't speak.
I put whipped cream on the top of a chocolate frap and put the lid on then handed it to the third girl. I watched the three girls leave before I turned around and faced Puck. He didn't look at me as he washed out a few of the blenders but I watched him anyway. I felt like I should give him an apology for shouting at him but I didn't think he would take it, so I tried another approach.
"I slept in her bed last night."
Puck turned around to look at me and cocked his eyebrow. He set the blender in the sink and rested his back against the counter. "She let you stay the night?"
"Indeed she did, and now we're practically best friends," I hummed. Maybe if he knew I had spent more than five minutes with her he would see that we were friends. Besides, why is it so unbelievable that Santana and I could be friends? Is there a time limit after meeting someone before you reach friend status? Santana even agreed that we're friends. And it's not like we're dating. Santana's not even gay. I thought about telling him what we talked about last night in Santana's other garage, but that was just between the two of us. If he knew, then he would definitely believe she and I were friends, but I couldn't tell him so I had to rely on what I had already told him.
I looked directly into his eyes and saw a look of near exasperation. I had never seen Puck like this. He was very composed most of the time but his eyes were conveying more emotion than I thought he had. "You do like Santana."
He shook his head and turned back to the sink. I think he was brushing me off. I smiled to myself and walked over to the register. Puck still liked Santana but Santana didn't like Puck. I didn't really like Puck either but since Santana was my friend I would talk to her about it.
"What time is it?" Puck asked. He was now standing next to me with his arms folded across his chest. I reached for my phone in my pocket, then remembered I didn't have my phone. I turned around to look at the clock on the wall. I squinted a bit and tried to read the roman numerals. I had to actually count to figure out what time it was. I wish the clock was digital. "It's 6:30." I had been here for half an hour.
"I'm off," Puck said and vanished into the back. He left me with a confused look and a moment of worry but I didn't have time to process it because as soon as the back door shut, the main door opened and Santana walked in. My heartbeat escalated as soon as I saw her face. I had a huge smile when I saw her. I couldn't believe she came to my work. I wondered why she was here, but it didn't matter because I was so excited to see her.
"Hello, friend," I chimed, placing emphasis on the word friend in case Puck could hear me from the back.
Santana walked up to the register and smiled. My heart was still thumping in my chest. She looked around for a brief moment before asking, "Are you alone tonight?"
I shook my head. "Puck's working." Wait a minute. "Actually, I have no clue. I thought Puck was working but he just said he got off and no one else is here but me. Oh my gosh hold on." Santana cocked her eyebrow but stood silently as I walked into the back.
I walked past the stock room and almost ran into Puck as I entered the break room. He put his hands on my shoulders and stepped beside me, not saying a word. I watched him walk out of the back before I went into the break room. I looked at the schedule on the wall. Pierce, Brittany 18:00 – 22:00; Puckerman, Noah 13:00 – 18:30. Well, that didn't help because the schedule is arranged alphabetically. I started at the top and ran my finger through the list until I saw her name. Fabray, Quinn 18:30 – 22:00. I grinned. I loved working with Quinn and I wanted her to see that I was alive and no major catastrophes happened at Santana's party. She was late, though.
I walked back out to see Santana still standing by the register. I was glad no one was behind her waiting to place an order because I really wanted to talk to her for a bit. It had only been a few hours since we'd seen each other but it felt longer. I skipped over to her and rested my elbows on the counter while using my hands to prop my head up. "Quinn is supposed to come in soon. So what's up?" I asked.
Santana set her bag on the counter and started to dig through it. Her bag was big and black and I wasn't surprised because Santana seemed to like black. She dug for a minute before she pulled out a phone and held it up. She smiled. I just looked at her and smiled back until I realized she was holding my phone. "Oh my gosh!" I exclaimed and reached to grab it. "My child!"
Santana snorted. "I put my number in there. It's under Santana."
"Bold choice," I noted. I slid my phone into my back pocket and resumed my place resting my chin in my hands.
"What time do you get off tonight?" she asked.
I sighed. "10, but more like 11 since I have to clean up once we close." I hated later shifts because it meant I usually wouldn't do anything after work. It did leave me the whole day to do stuff, though, and those are typically my more productive days.
Santana nodded in response. Her smile faltered slightly. I really wish I was getting off earlier so I could see her later tonight. I wondered how long she was going to stick around while she was here. The door chimed and I looked over to see Quinn walking in. "Quinn!" I sang. Quinn smiled at me and opened her mouth to speak but stopped herself. Her walk slowed. I didn't know why until I looked at Santana and saw how stiff she had become. I bit my lip and tried to find a way to not make this interaction awkward. "I survived her party," I told Quinn proudly. I glanced at Santana only to see her frown. I then realized maybe I was throwing Quinn under the bus for telling me not to go to Santana's party, but I had told Santana that Quinn said it and she really didn't seem to care. She even told me the reason why Quinn felt that way, like she could understand Quinn's reasoning. But Quinn didn't know that and now I was making an already awkward situation more awkward.
"Awesome," Quinn said, forcing a smile. She didn't look at Santana as she came behind the counter. "I'm going to clock in." With that, Quinn went into the back, leaving me and Santana alone.
I looked at Santana's composure and she had softened now, but I could still tell she was uncomfortable. Now I really wanted to know why the two weren't friends anymore. What could cause such a big falling out? I would try to talk to Quinn about it during our shift. I figured she would tell me before Santana would since I knew her better. "I'm sorry," I said.
Santana brushed me off with a wave of her hand. "She can be mad all she wants, I really don't care."
"But you looked uncomfortable."
She started to look uncomfortable again. Her eyes flickered to the back door and back to me. She took a breath and relaxed again. I narrowed my eyes slightly and watched her, trying to read her body language but I was having no luck. She was really hard to figure out. "That's because she makes the room freeze and I hate the cold." I think she was making a reference but I had no idea what it was about, so I just nodded my head. "I should get going, I don't want to hold up the line," she said, looking over her shoulder at the couple who had just come in through the side door.
"Can I make you a drink at least?" I offered. I wasn't ready for her to go yet. She had only been here for a few minutes.
Santana looked at the menu, then at me, then at the door before looking back at me again. She bit her lip before she finally agreed. "Just a small one." She looked at the menu for a while before finally deciding on coffee.
"Coffee?" I asked. "We have over 50 drinks and you want plain coffee?"
Santana nodded and smiled like she had just said the funniest joke ever. "I was going to just ask for water but I didn't think you would appreciate that."
I frowned and turned around to grab her the smallest cup we have. It wasn't actually a drink cup, but one of the free cups we give to people who just want water. I filled the cup up with regular coffee and snapped a lid on. We didn't have coffee lids for these cups so I put a normal lid on it. I slid the cup into one of those cautionary cardboard slips. The cup was barely bigger than the slip. I turned back around and handed Santana her coffee with a straw. She just smirked and took a sip. "It's on me. Those cup sizes aren't actually priced, so I can't really charge you." Santana thanked me and told me to text her later before she left. I waited for her to fully leave the store before I started taking the next order. I was kind of sad now.
Quinn came out ten minutes later carrying three new bottles of flavoring. She set them on the counter next to me and I looked for the empty bottles in the collection. We exchanged the old bottles for new ones and Quinn threw the old ones away in the back. When she came back out I wanted to say something to her, but she came out carrying a rag and went to wipe off the empty tables. I sighed in resignation and looked around for something to do. I couldn't see anything that immediately needed my attention so I started straightening the bottles and made sure everything was faced correctly. Three middle school-aged girls came in while I was straightening up so I walked over to the register. They looked at the menu for what felt like five minutes before turning around and leaving without saying a word. Whatever.
Quinn finally came back to the counter. She set the rag down at the end of the counter and stood at the register to take orders. I was hoping that after she took the orders of the people in line that I could talk to her, but she never said anything and that's when a rush happened. Sunday's are never busy but it's June and people like their coffee. It was pretty steady, with Quinn taking orders and both of us mixing drinks, cleaning up spills, occasionally organizing the chairs and magazines and wiping down tables, grabbing low supplies from the back. Around 9, there were only a few people inside and no one in line. I went to stand by Quinn, who was washing dishes in the sink. I was about to speak but she spoke first.
"Are you friends with her?" she asked quietly without looking at me.
I couldn't read her tone, so I didn't know how to phrase my answer in a way that wouldn't upset her. She also wasn't looking at me so I couldn't read her expression. I tried to choose my words carefully. "I think so."
Quinn frowned into the sink. "You think so?" She looked at me.
"Well as Puck pointed out earlier, I 'don't know her' enough to be her friend, but I think I know her enough to say I am her friend. Or at least that I want to be her friend."
She clucked her tongue at me in response. Quinn set the blender on the counter next to the sink without drying it. Her eyes were pleading with me, but I didn't know what for. Quinn was confusing like Santana. Both of the girls said a lot in body language but never anything with words. I had no idea what Quinn was trying to tell me. I knew it had something to do with Santana and her not liking Santana, but she wasn't saying what was on her mind. I decided to just flat out ask her. "Is that a bad thing?"
Quinn shook her head. "No, no of course not," she said, her voice a pitch higher than normal. I think she was lying. Quinn must have known she didn't sound convincing because she backtracked. "It's just...you should be careful."
"About what, Santana?" I swallowed.
Quinn nodded very slowly. "Yeah, her. And Puck. And all the rest of them." She quickly turned back to the sink and started washing more dishes. I looked behind me to make sure no one was at the counter before I moved even closer to her. "Quinn what are you trying to tell me? I know you and Santana had a fight, and it's okay."
"No! It's not okay." Quinn threw the mixer that was in her hands into the sink. She sounded so hurt and frustrated at the same time and it made my heart hurt for her. I put my hand on her back. She looked up at me and I could see that her eyes were watering.
"Quinn..." I started, but she cut me off. "Listen, Brittany," Quinn sniffled and wiped her eye. "This isn't a big deal. Santana and I had a fight a long time ago and I'm over it now. But she can be a really shady person so just be careful. That's all I'm saying." Quinn walked past me and went into the back.
I watched her walk away with my mouth open. What just happened? She had started crying over Santana and stormed away. She also said something about Puck. I knew Quinn had once dated Puck and so had Santana so maybe he had something to do with their fight? I was so confused. I really wanted answers but I didn't know how to get them. Puck yelled at me for being friends with Santana, Quinn started crying because I was friends with Santana. What was happening? What I wanted to do was ask Santana what the hell was going on but we hadn't known each other very long so I didn't think she would tell me. Quinn didn't tell me and I doubted Puck would tell me. My only options were to wait it out until someone told me, or ask Sugar if she knew anything. I took a deep breath and leaned my head back, a frustrated grunt escaping my throat. I licked my lips and went into the lobby to start cleaning up since no one was at the counter. Quinn didn't come back out until it was time to close.
