A/N: Thanks for the review, bethaanybitch!

I'm really sorry for the delay. The semester is just finishing at my uni, so there's been a lot of work due. Updates should be happening quickly again now.

THAT DAMN WHITE SHIRT

Chapter 4

Santana quickly got into her car, then rested her head on the steering wheel. She didn't really have a date. Or if she did, well, it was never going to be a real date, and a quick text message kept it from being anything. It's not like Karofsky particularly wanted to pretend to make eyes at her over a table at the Lima Bean.

So she cancelled the date. She had bigger problems at the moment.

They know, they know, they know.

Santana leant back into her seat, and then thumped her head onto the wheel a few times. She promised herself it would be the last time she would give any evidence that the conversation in the auditorium even happened. The last time she would appear to be anything but a flawless bitch.

Except for having to actually call Kurt and Mercedes by their names.

"Hey."

Santana screamed, and was halfway out of the car before realising that she recognised the groggy voice coming from the back seat. Feeling foolish, Santana climbed back into the car, and tried to calm her now-rapid heartbeat before turning around.

Of course, when she did turn around her heart raced off without her again. She gave up on her heart, and instead tried to keep her voice steady.

"Hi, Britt. Why were you sleeping in the back of my car?"

The blonde girl didn't answer straight away, instead deciding to climb awkwardly through to the passenger seat. She sat with her back against the door, and gave Santana a hard look before opening her mouth.

"I wanted to know where you were, so I was waiting for you and then I got tired. You didn't come to Glee Club. I thought that you would wear the shirt, and then we'd all be happy and dance. Why are you crying?"

For what felt like the thousandth time that day, Santana lost it. She leant her head against the wheel again, and started crying. Why couldn't they all just accept that she didn't go that day? They never cared before about whether she came or not. They never asked her opinions, never wanted to pair up with her for group work.

They never noticed that she paid more attention to Brittany and Artie than to whoever was singing.

"I wanted to come, Brittany. I wanted to come and dance with you and show Artie, show everyone. I wanted to wear that shirt that you gave me, and I wanted to sing Born That Way. But I couldn't. I couldn't sing with you about accepting myself because I don't."

Santana looked up at the other girl, and Brittany could see that Santana's eyes were already red, that her mascara was already running.

San was crying earlier.

"It's so hard, B. You don't see how hard it is for me because you're so brave. You're so brave."

Santana moved her hand to touch Brittany's cheek, and then paused, inches away. Brittany started to lean towards her hand, so she quickly pulled it back to her side.

She has Artie. She has Artie and I have David.

"San, you don't have to accept yourself, you just have to be honest. Then you'll see that everyone loves you, and you'll love you, too."

Santana wrapped her arms around herself.

"Kurt and Mercedes know about me. Know that I'm…. Lebanese."

Brittany's face crinkled up in confusion.

"What does that have to do with anything? Besides, I thought you said you were Hispanic. I meant to ask who he is, and why he's panicking. Do you know? Is he your dad?"

The blonde girl stopped, and Santana watched as realisation dawned across her features.

"Oh! You mean they know that you like girls! Mercedes has known for ages. Tina, too. They were making bets about you. You told Kurt, though. That's great, San!"

"Tina knows? Since when has Tina known? Since when has everyone known? Who else knows?"

Santana's breathing sped up, and she found herself clutching the steering wheel again, trying desperately to stay in her seat instead of running, leaving the car and the school and never coming back. Or taking the car, just driving until she didn't recognise the towns, and the towns didn't recognise her.

I thought nobody knew. How did they all know? Does everyone know?

Brittany blinked in confusion.

"Only Tina and Mercedes. And me. And probably Brad, too. Why are you so worried? It's Glee Club, they won't tell anyone. They're like family."

She was so innocent. Santana didn't know how to explain that most of them hated her, even though they liked Brittany. They weren't her family, only Brittany was her family.

"You're my family, Britt. Glee Club doesn't like me the way they like you. They hate me for what Quinn and I used to do to them. Remember the slushies?"

Brittany nodded, sadly.

"You'll see, San. If you apologise, you'll see that they do love you. They all think I'm stupid, and they don't realise how much they like you, but they do. I'm smart with them. Just think about it."

Brittany leaned across to the driver's seat, and unbuttoned Santana's jacket. She kissed Santana on the cheek, and then smiled.

"See? I knew you were wearing my shirt. I'm smart with people."

The blonde girl opened her car door, and got out. She paused before closing it again, and leant back into the car.

"You never said. Where were you when you should have been dancing with me?"

Santana blinked away more tears, and laughed weakly.

"I was in the back of the auditorium, watching you guys sing."

Brittany stared into her eyes for a long moment.

"I love you, San. Don't forget that."

The car door shut, gently, and Brittany was gone.

Santana sat in the quiet for a few minutes before letting her tears fall.

She didn't know how long she stayed there. Eventually, she started the car and drove home.

S-K-S-K-S-K-S-K-S-K-S-K-S-K-S-K-S-K-S

Kurt and Mercedes exited the Lima Bean, laughing as the black girl recounted her conversation with Mr Schuester. Mercedes pulled the sheet music from her bag, and thrust it towards Kurt.

"Here, you take it. I need an excuse if Mr Schue asks me what I did with it."

Kurt pulled a mock-horrified face, and shoved the sheets back.

"Me? I won't be your accomplice. There are many things I would do for you, my dear, but going to jail just isn't one of them. I'm far too pretty."

The pair laughed even harder, and Mercedes shoved the music back into her bag.

I guess I'll have to give it to Rachel. That girl would love to get anything that might give her an advantage in Glee Club.

They threaded their arms together as they walked, and Mercedes finally decided to ask the question that had been bothering her all afternoon.

"Kurt, you said there are loads of things you'd do for me, and we're friends, but why are you doing things for Santana? I know she's in Glee with us, and I feel really bad for her, but she's always been horrible to us."

Kurt sighed, unhooking his arm and pulling her to the edge of the street, out of the way of other people. He looked into Mercedes' eyes, showing her a lot of old pain and sadness.

"Mercedes," the boy started, carefully.

"Even before I came out at school, I was getting bullied. The slushy attacks, the slams into lockers, the name calling. You were the first person I told, and that was only after lying and saying that I loved Rachel Berry, of all people-"

"You know how sorry I am about your car, right?"

Kurt waved off her anxious apology, and continued.

"What I'm trying to say is, it's always been hard for me. It wasn't that hard for me to be honest about myself, because I couldn't really get any lower in the McKinley pecking order. It's not like that for Santana. She's popular, she doesn't get bullied, and her father is a doctor. No matter how much she puts on the 'Lima Heights' attitude, she can't escape the fact that her family is both wealthy and well-regarded in Lima."

Kurt sighed, and adjusted his hair before giving Mercedes a piercing look.

"She knows that she could lose all of that if she comes out. From what she said to me about her family… I don't think they'll take it very well if they find out she's a lesbian. Maybe she could hold on to her status at school through intimidation alone, but she knows they'll look at her differently. She's scared of what would happen."

Mercedes let out a soft "Oh," of understanding.

"I can't do that to another person, Mercedes. Even if she was partly responsible for the same thing happening to me. Even if she was the only person that treated me that way, I wouldn't do it to her. If it was less serious gossip, no problem, but this is big."

"I know that you don't like what she did to me. I don't like it either, obviously. We have a chance to help her, though, Mercedes. We don't have to be friends with Satan, but we can support Santana."

The girl nodded, and Kurt linked their arms again. They continued walking down the street, laughing about what Mr Schuester would do if he ever ran out of Journey songs.