I
You told Finn you're going to Puck's party. He sounded super excited about this. He really wants to introduce you to his girlfriend, who everyone awkwardly calls Sugar (because she hates her first name), and you really want to meet her. You guys are going to eat at some bar before you all head off together.
You like that his excitement is contagious, and you automatically love him for it.
II
You've decided you want to punch Sugar in the face... Until she offers to pay for your meal, and then you decide that she isn't that bad.
You're superficial like that, you guess.
III
Puck picks you up when he hugs you. His arms feel like memories and he smells like smoked jolly ranchers. You didn't realize how comforting his touch was until he let you down to greet Finn in a bro-tastic, manly hug.
He continues to make his rounds when he gives Sugar a weird pat/hug, and then excuses himself to greet the other various people coming into his house. You always loved Puck's parties, mostly because you heard them before you could see them. The music was always loud, the people were always arriving by the dozens, and the drinks were always plentiful. His parties haven't changed, you notice.
VI
You haven't danced for almost two years, and it feels like it. But your ankle is actually holding up and you're taking full advantage.
You take a break from popping and locking and dropping to finally catch your breath. You've been at this for hours. The dancing around you continues as you move away from the grinding bodies and towards the entrance of the kitchen.
You're tired and sweaty but oh so surprisingly happy. When you reach the kitchen, the first thing you want is a bottle of water. Conveniently, Charming Michael finds his way to you with one.
"Who knew you danced?" He shouts over the music. "You're killin' it out there, girl!"
You fake smile and accept the water he hands to you before walking further into the kitchen where the music is less. You turn toward him and reply with a well-practiced smirk, "there's a lot you don't know about me, Michael."
You take this time to look at him fully, and let your mind wonder how long he's been here. You've long since left Puck, Sugar, and Finn to the call of the beat and haven't actually socialized this whole night. He could've showed up anytime over the last three hours, so you stop trying to speculate as he continues to talk. "Brittany," he says, "you can really call me Mike." He has a smile that's genuine and it reminds you of your father and you hate him for it.
You fake another smile before you take a swig of the water in your hand, "okay, Michael." You say, because you still don't think of him as a friend. But he laughs, because he must think you're trying to be funny or flirty and you shrug because you just want to drink water then dance; however, his laugh is interrupted by two chicks. One, the Asian looking one, drunkenly grabs onto Michael's bicep protectively before staring at you expectedly. The other one, the Hispanic looking one, just looks you. You stare back at the two girls before giving your own expected look at Michael because you really don't have time for a jealous girlfriend and her wanna be bitch bestie right now. Not when you're in the best mood you've been in, in forever.
Michael clears his throat as he registers this as an awkward moment. "Brittany, this is my girlfriend, Tina," he says while gesturing toward the Asian girl with the arm she isn't holding. "Tina," he continues, "this is Brittany. She stops by the dance studio from time to time." You smile your practiced smile in her direction when he says your name with all the energy you can muster at the moment.
She says a quick, but slurred Hi before dragging Michael away, leaving you with the one girl he didn't introduce you to.
She's still staring at you. And you wait and wait and wait a minute or two for something to happen but she doesn't say anything. It starts to creep you out a bit because she's just staring at you like she's trying to remember.
You're about to walk around her, but as soon as you start to move, she speaks. "You're Brittany, right?" She asks you like she isn't sure before shaking her head because she realized that, that was a dumb question. You both know she heard Michael literally just say your name. "I mean," she starts again, "you're Brittany Pierce?" She shakes her head again when she realizes how stalkerish she sounds and you think she deserves more of a gold star for trying than Finn. An you're in such a good mood that you actually start to laugh because that's a funny thought, and you laugh and you laugh as you nod your head to answer her question.
And she just watches you laugh, as her face flushes a bit, before she joins in with you. And you laugh and she laughs and you both double over. You don't even know why you're laughing anymore but you feel so good and the music is so loud and you feel like you could carry this smile into your dreams.
And she finally calms down enough to awkwardly reach out her hand like a dork and say her name, and you shake it as you continue to laugh.
"It's very nice to meet you, Santana." You say.
And she smiles at you.
And she smiles at you.
And she smiles and you think you want to be her friend.
V
It's been a month since the party and you've since visited your mother. You brought your usual: flowers and cookies. And she accepts both with a smile and you actually smile back.
You tell her about how you've spent the last two weeks at the dance studio. You tell her about how you want to get a new job, one that doesn't have you behind a desk. You tell her that you actually answered Sam's call, but you don't tell her that he is no longer waiting.
You don't tell her about how your ankle still hurts when you stretch it. You don't tell her that you only showered because she wanted you to come over. You don't tell her that you haven't slept more than three hours because you dream of flying.
When she leaves to use the rest room, you still watch her pills with interest.
You still want to take them. You still want to take them all.
But your mother thinks you're fine.
Your mother thinks you're fine.
Your mother thinks you're fine, and you're the one that convinced her.
