"My shirt will dry faster this way," I spread the tank top across her bed allowing it to dry. I then get up and walk up to her, barely leaving any breathing space. Her lips were so close to mine, and I was half naked...perfect. "Don't you think?"
"Well, you're not as dull as I thought you were. It may actually dry faster that way," Santana offers returning to her desk unfazed.
You're kidding me, right?
She pushes her glasses up her nose and opens her laptop. "Back to the project-"
"Yeah, the shit that's fucking due in months," I interject running my fingers through my blonde hair.
"Well it's called finishing it now so we won't have anything to do with each other later."
"Maybe I do want something to do with you..." I hint mischievously.
"I'm not letting you have sex with me." Damn, that was pretty straight-forward.
I keep my face in check, but breakdown on the inside. I, Brittany S. Pierce, have never been rejected in the whole entirety of my life.
"And why not?"
She looks up from the laptop and stares me in the eyes. "Well, since you obviously don't want to work, you can go home if you want."
"Bitch," I grab my jacket and head out because I can't think of a reason to stay. Don't want to work on the project, and she doesn't want sex. Alrighty.
Halfway down her driveway, I realize that I left my tank top. Could this day get any better? I didn't plan on going back, I simply zipped up my leather jacket to cover my nakedness.
When I make it to the street, I'm now faced with a question. Where do I go now? Quinn's probably tired of me, and there's no way in hell I'm going to my own home. I could just call one of my old hook ups, maybe Puck or Tina, but my mind's just not right with it. Looks like I am stuck with going home.
Santana's house surprisingly wasn't that far from mine, which made the walk quite short. I could already hear them before I even entered the house. They argue 24/7 and never seem to have peace of mind. About money, bills, food, car, house...me.
We weren't poor per se, it's just that neither like to use their own money. Why haven't they divorced is the question I'm asking.
"All I asked was for you to pick up Ashley. What it so hard, Ian?"
"I had other things to think about, other things to do."
"Right, because everything comes before your daughter."
"Guess so, Kathleen."
"You're terrible, you know that?"
thwack.
He slapped her. Again. I unlock the door and head straight to the kitchen which is where they have most of their arguments. My mom is looking away clutching her right cheek and my dad just watches her. I rush over to my mother, checking if she's okay. Seeing that it wasn't anything too serious, I walk over to my father.
"What the hell is your problem? How many times do I have to tell your punk ass not to touch her?" I shove a finger at his chest accusing.
He grabs my hand and twists it. "Look little lady, this is between me and your mother. Get gone," he lets go, leaving a burning sensation where his fingers once were.
"Brittany, could you pick Ashley from school? Please." My mother pleaded trying to regain her posture.
I give my father one last death glare before leaving back outside.
Going to Ashley's school brought back memories. I remember the playground, and the Christmas parties, and the old nursery rhymes we'd always sing. When my family was together, happy with peace. When I actually cared about school. But it's all just a memory, now.
I spot Ashley on the swing set, swaying back and forth.
"Hey, bud," I join her on the other swing.
She glances up at me, then back down. "I'm the only one left." Her bob cut, golden-blonde hair flew on her face.
"I know. Mom and Dad are not in the best mood, right now."
"Can we go home?"
I nod and carry her on my back. A six-year old didn't deserve to see her family fall apart. I can handle this, she can't.
"Britt?"
I hum in acknowledgement.
"Can I wear your jacket? I'm cold."
"Sorry, squirt." I remember that I don't have anything under. "We'll be home soon."
The next day at school, I was getting water from the fountain when suddenly I'm pushed.
"What the hell?" I turn to find the offender.
"Calm your tits, Pierce."
I glance down at my chest inspecting my assets. "They're pretty calm if you ask me!"
Quinn hits my arm and chuckles. I mumble an 'ow' and we walk over to her locker.
"So how's you and Ms. Bitchy Bitch-Bitch?" She asks.
"She doesn't want me. I mean, who wouldn't want a piece of this? Seriously?"
Quinn swallows and ignores the question. "Maybe instead of hookups, you should opt for real love."
"That's the dumbest idea I've ever heard from you," I reply.
"Whatever."
I notice her cleavage is overbearingly great today, her chest all out in the open...
"Hey," Quinn snaps. "My eyes are up here, sweetie."
"That's nice to know, but I'm only concerned about your boobs."
"You're a pig!" she yells before storming off.
"Well, FUCK YOU, TOO, FABRAY!"
I was frustrated. Emotionally frustrated. Mentally frustrated. Sexually frustrated. 'Course, there's only one solution for that. Find my next sex victim to rock my world like nobody else. I scan the hall and come up with no one.
The suddenly, it was as if God was answering my prayers because Beatriz Alonso was now walking toward me. I always had a thing latinas, their tan skin, flowing hair, and when they have an accent it's a plus-plus. Beatriz is one of my once in a while hookups, only if I'm desperate. She starts to walk past me until I stop her.
"What class you headed to?" I begin to interrogate.
She flips her long black hair before answering. "P.E. Why?"
"You know why," I assure closing the space between us.
"Right now?"
I nod biting my lip. "Come on."
I lead her to the nearest janitor's closet locking the door shut once we're both inside. It was awkward for a moment because neither of us could seem to find the light switch, until Beatriz flips a switch in the corner of the confined room.
"Much better," I say pulling her hips against mine. I attack her neck without much hesitation, sucking as hard as I could. Her moan only urges me on, so I push her against the door.
"Fuck, Brittany," she shivers.
I crash my lips to hers just to keep her quiet. I've done her enough to know that she's quite a chatty one. She immediately licks my lips for entrance, and I oblige giving wet sloppy kisses.
I lift my lips from hers after a solid minute of kissing saying, "I haven't been fucked in a few days. And I'm upset about it. Maybe you can help me?"
Beatriz smirks. "Of course."
She yanks the zipper down my shorts, shoving her hand in.
"No undies? God, you're so fucking sexy," Beatriz lets out feeling my wet pussy. She rubs her fingers up and down, teasing me. She places her thumb on my clit and finally inserts a finger, slowly moving in and out.
My hips buck, begging for more friction.
"Harder," I gasp. "And fucking faster, if you don't mind!"
She does just as I say, even adding a finger.
"Fuck yes, Santana," I moan feeling on the verge of an orgasm.
All movements stop.
"What did you say?" Beatriz questions pulling her hand out of my pants.
"Shit," I whisper mostly to myself. Did I just say her name? God, I want her so bad.
"The freakin' nerd? Is that who you said? While we were having sex?" Beatriz wipes her hand on jeans, fuming.
This woman had me so close to an orgasm, and if she doesn't want to get me there, I will get there myself.
"Yepp, sure did," I retort putting my own hands down my pants, shoving two fingers in and out. I begin a rhythmic beat, not caring whether not Beatriz was present.
"See, this?" I ask anyway. "This is how you fuck somebody. Fast and hard." I keep going until I come, reaching my climax.
I relax on the wall behind me for a moment, before opening my eyes. Beatriz stares at me with lustful eyes.
I smile a big one, as I zip up my shorts wiping off my hands, also. I open the door to leave, saying, "By the way, yes. I did say Santana. I bet she could do me better. That was just pitiful," closing the door after me.
Speak of the devil. Overalls was at her locker just across the hall. If want to even get a kiss from her, I have to be nice, I think to myself. So I practically skip over to her locker - how badass of me.
"What do you want, Brittany?" She demanded without so much of a glance up.
"Damn, don't even give a girl the chance to say anything, huh?" I ask hurt.
She shuts her locker and looks up at me, crossing her arms.
"Well, I just wanted to know..."
...why the fuck you don't want to have sex with me?
"..how you are? You know, what's up?"
Santana lifts an eyebrow curious to why I'm asking.
"I've been fine...thanks for asking."
"Anytime, man," I return with a grin.
We stand there awkwardly until Santana clears her throat.
"Look," I say looking her straight in the eye. "I don't know what's going on with the tension between us, but we need to put it beside us so we can actually get some work done here. We need to actually be, like, what's that word for people who hang out for fun and they tell each other everything and shit?"
"Friends?"
"Yeah, we need to be those!"
"Um, okay..."
"Do you have any friends?" I ask.
She pushes her glasses up her nose. "Well, no...I'm too arrogant for other people's liking."
"Bro, me too! See? We have something in common!" I playfully hit her arm.
She half-smiles. "Yeah, we do."
"Wanna walk to English now?"
Santana nods and we get on our way. The English hall took a couple of minutes to get to from Santana's locker, so we had time to just talk. She told me of all the homework she had to do because she procrastinates and I told her all the homework I don't do just because ain't nobody got time for that. This got a laugh out of her, and her laugh is just perfect. We then moved on to the funniest Youtube videos we'd ever seen. At one point she says, "Wow, Brittany. You're more different than I thought."
"What did you think of me before?" I asked reaching our English class.
"That you were a slut who took people's virginity, without much thought of them afterwards."
The bell rang then, signaling for class to start and Overalls heads to her seat.
While I stand in the doorway dumbstruck.