Chapter Four

When I walked into the choir room on Wednesday, Quinn and Rachel were sitting in the corner together, knees turned toward each other, whispering intently. It wasn't the first time I'd seen them like that this week, either.

It made me really fucking nervous.

There was no way they were sitting up there talking about songwriting. That little Jew was up to something.

I planted myself in the opposite corner of the room where I could keep an eye on them.

Puck climbed the stairs and sat next to me.

"What's going on over there?" he asked, gesturing toward Rachel and Quinn. "I thought they couldn't stand each other. And I keep seeing you roll your eyes at them."

"I have no idea," I said, trying not to make eye contact in hopes he would go away.

A look of intrigue spread across his face. "Has Quinn finally turned gay too?"

"Yes, that's it Noah, now you can bother her about a threesome instead, and leave me alone."

"Are you serious? Quinn stole your woman? Are you okay – I mean, you did kind of drunkenly freak out about that not too long ago."

I smacked the back of his head.

"No, and shut up. First of all, Rachel is not my woman. Second, they're probably just talking about writing terrible emo songs, or about how to be the worst members of the Celibacy Club ever."

"Are you sure, because I've seen what happens when you're threatened, and that is the mother of my firstborn up there. I need to know if I should be prepared to help her flee the country."

"Yeah, well, I'm not threatened. Berry and me are casual."

"So were we."

"Do you have a point, Puckerman?"

"I'm just trying to figure out what's going on. I don't want to see you get hurt again."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said. I couldn't figure out his angle here.

"Look, I heard through the grapevine that you're going through a rough spot."

"Oh, really?" I asked. "And who's the grapevine?"

"Just listen, all right? I know what it's like to lose the girl, and I'm taking a shot at this new life plan where I'm trying to be a good dude. So if you want to talk, I'm game. And if you want to get naked afterwards, I'm game for that too. For old time's sake."

I made a face which, in retrospect, probably wasn't very flattering to either of us..

He nodded. "That's not going to happen anymore, is it?"

"Yeah, no. It really isn't."

"Damn. Well the other part of the offer stands," he said as he stood up. "My ears work almost as good as my other stuff."

"I'm fine, Noah," I said. He shrugged and started to make his way down to the front row next to Lauren. "But. . . thanks."

He winked at me and sat down.

Well, that was all very heartwarming and everything, but there was still the little matter of figuring out what the hell Rachel Berry had up her sleeve. It was time to interrupt this little girl talk session.

"Yo, Berry," I called out.

She whispered something to Quinn and made her way across the top row of chairs, eyebrows raised expectantly.

"You want to tell me what's going on over there? I thought the plan was off."

"It is off. People can become friends without it being part of some grand scheme, you know."

"Well, good luck with that. I don't know why you think anything is going to change with her."

"Santana, I know you may be somewhat stuck within your own personal circumstances, but some people do make decisions which lead to change."

I gave Quinn a sideways look and shook my head. "You don't know what you're doing. I don't like it."

"Of course you don't. Because the truth is that even though you might still get what you want, you're not controlling it anymore. Look, you're the one who rejected the terms of the partnership, so I have to ask you to respect it. If you do, I don't see why it should make any difference in our relationship."

I scowled.

"In fact," she continued, stepping closer and running her index finger down over my nose and over my lips, "Why don't we plan an evening just for the two of us? How's Friday at your place?"

That was distracting.

"Fine," I sighed. I mean, what could I do about it anyway?

"Excellent!" she chirped, then leaned down to speak softly in my ear. "Wear the black. With the lace. You know the thing." And with that she turned and reseated herself next to Quinn across the room.

As weird as the first half of the day had been, it got even weirder at lunch.

I was sitting with Mike and Tina, minding my own business (or as close as I ever get), when Brittany approached our table.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey Brittany!" Mike said. "Umm, Tina! Maybe we better get going."

"Totally," she said, looking at her wrist even though there was no watch there. "It's almost time for. . . that thing."

"Do you mean sex in the janitor's closet again?" Brittany asked.

"What? No!" Mike said. "We have. . .a meeting."

"Asian-Ohioans meeting," Tina offered. "It's super secret. We could be shamed for even telling you other races about it. All right, bye!"

They grabbed their trays and walked off in a rush.

"I hope they know they're not fooling anyone, not even me," Brittany said, watching them go.

"Can I help you with something, Brittany?" I said, trying to slow my heart's pounding enough that she couldn't see it beating through my super tight dress.

"Rachel and Quinn said you wanted to talk to me."

"What? I don't. Pretty much exactly the opposite, in fact."

Instead, she sat down across from me.

"Santana, I miss you."

"BS, you just said you're only talking to me because Quinchel told you to. Go to hell."

"What Rachel said made me want to talk to you. Ever since she explained it to me, I think I understand a little better now why you're so upset, and why you stopped having sex with me. But," she trailed off, fiddling with her hands and staring down at the table top, "I have to ask you if you could try to be friends with me again. I miss holding your hand and vandalizing other people's stuff with you. It's not the same just having Artie."

"Well, that's the first intelligent thing you've said in weeks. But guess what, Britt? You can't have both anymore. When you stood there and listened to me tell you that I loved you, that was your moment to make a choice. And you did, and you know what? It was the wrong god damn one."

"But I'm not mad that you're having sex with Rachel Berry," she said. "I don't get the difference."

"Maybe the difference, Brittany, is that if you wanted to be with me, I would forget Rachel Berry's name. I know it, she knows it, and you know it. Or maybe the difference is that you don't actually give a shit about being with me. Because all of this? You missing me and us fighting? You did this. You pushed me to admit my feelings, and then when I did, you shot me down. Do you not get that it can never go back to how it used to be? And it's your fault."

She processed what I said in stunned silence.

"That's not fair, Santana," she said quietly. "I tried, like a million times. I asked you to be my girlfriend way back when we were thirteen. I always wanted to be a couple with you. Remember when I wanted to go for Halloween as Wall-E, and I wanted you to be EVE so we could hold robot hands like in the movie? You always said no. Just because you're finally ready doesn't mean I am."

"So I'm supposed to wait around? Or be the one you cheat with? Fuck that."

"It's not cheating when it's with you."

"Oh, grow up. I only told you that so you'd keep coming over. Sleeping with someone else is always cheating, it doesn't matter who it is. But you knew that. Maybe you should ask yourself why you did it anyway."

Her brow furrowed and her eyes looked at me so sadly that my stomach wrenched. That's nothing new; it has always caused me physical pain to see her sad. And all I wanted to do was wrap my arms around her neck and tell her I took every word of it back. But I couldn't – there was no way to fix it. I can't touch her if I can't touch her. I can't hug her once and let her go back to him again.

So I sat on my hands and pretended to be angry.

And after everything I'd just said to her, and the way I was looking at her, she said, "I like talking about feelings with you, Santana. Even bad ones."

"That's great for you," I said, trying to keep my voice from breaking. "But the reality is that you're with him, and I need to move on. And I don't care what Rachel and Quinn tell you. I need you to leave me alone."

I got up from the table and tried to make it to the bathroom before I burst into tears.