Hi guys! So sorry I made you wait so long, I had so much going on! But I think I'll be able to update more often now, and the easter hols are coming up so Ill have more time, although we're decorating the whole house, and the garden, so I cant garuantee I wont be just as busy... hope you like the chapter! Thanks for the reviews, btw, they mean a lot! :D

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot line. Aren't I gutted.

Chapter 6

When we woke up it was midday, and we were both hungry as hell. I checked my phone, (fully charged, by the way), and I had a text from my mom.

Come home. We need to speak to someone about the funeral arrangements.-mom

Even Britt couldn't cheer me up after that. We ate our lucky charms in silence. Her dad had taken Amelia, her little sister, to the park so we were alone. After breakfast I went home. I knew mom was going to yell at me, since she had texted me at about eight this morning, but I couldn't bring myself to care.

When I walked in the house, my brothers were watching TV, as usual. I went into the kitchen to find mom crying. Into someone's shoulder. A man's shoulder. A man who wasn't my dad, (obviously). Shocked, I froze in the doorway. Seeing me, mom pulled away and stood up, looking guilty.

"Santana! This is Rob, from the funeral planning place. He came over to discuss plans for the funeral, and I kinda broke down." Now I got it. She wasn't guilty because she was in the arms of another man two days after my dad died. She was guilty because she broke down, and she felt like she couldn't break down, since she was my mom, the one supposed to be strong, to stand by me. I smiled, and she relaxed.

"Have you decided anything?" I asked, going over to the sink to get a drink.

"Well, we want to have it soon. I was thinking next weekend, but-" my eyes widened.

"Mom, that's my birthday!" I cried. She looked at me and bit her lip.

"I know sweetie, but it's the only time Jenny can make it." I flinched at the mention of Jenny.

"Even more reason not to have it next Saturday! What are you even doing speaking to her? I thought we broke off all contact with her, mom?" she suddenly looked angry.

"I kept her number, Santana. This is the first time I've spoken to her since she left."

"Well, you shouldn't have called her. You shouldn't have even told her he died." She suddenly walked forward and slapped me, hard.

"How dare you? She is your sister, she deserves to know that your father died, and she deserves to be able to come to his funeral!" I put a hand to my face, equally angry by now.

"Why should she know? It's not as if she ever cared about him!" I yelled.

"Of course she cared! He was he father!"

"Then why the fuck did she leave when we found out about the cancer? If she loved him, and cared about him, why did she abandon us all?"

"Because she couldn't deal with it! She couldn't deal with losing him!"

"So she chose to lose all of us instead?" we were full on screaming at each other now. I was surprised no-one had called the police. Rob was trying to pull my mother away from me, and my brothers were stood in the doorway looking scared.

"I don't know what was going through her mind at the time Santana! I just know that she loved us, all of us. And she cared about him. She just couldn't stick around and watch him die! The only thing that stopped me from leaving was you kids!"

"I don't care what her excuses were, mom. I hate her. I don't want to see her again. We are not having the funeral on my birthday. She is not coming to the funeral. If she goes, I won't. And I mean that, mom. I really mean it." She nodded, resigned to the fact that she wasn't going to win this argument. I knew she would probably invite her anyway, but I would deal with that when I had to. For now, I just wanted to get out of the house.

I left the house, and sat down in the driveway. I wanted to go see Britt, but I knew that the entire neighbourhood must have heard our fight, and I was too embarrassed to look her in the eye. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I speed-dialled Puck's number.

"Hello?" he asked questioningly. I shook my head and rolled my eyes through my tears. Even after all this time, he still hadn't gotten round to programming my number into his phone.

"Hey Puck," I purred seductively, "it's your special girl."

"Oh, hey Quinn. You want to come over again? Have a repeat of last night? Maybe we could record it this time, make things a little more…interesting." I dropped the phone, shocked. That couldn't be Puck. I picked it up and checked that I had called the right person. I could hear him calling her name, so I picked up the phone again.

"Puck? Is that you?"

"Yeah Quinn. You're voice sounds strange. Is your throat sore from screaming my name?" I felt a fresh bout of tears escape my eyes.

"I'm not Quinn. I'm Santana. You know, your girlfriend?" I heard his sharp intake of breath, then silence. Eventually, he spoke again.

"Santana, it's not what you think." I laughed disbelievingly.

"Sure it's not. Don't worry, I'm just going to believe you when you tell me you're not cheating on me with Quinn. I'm not going to punch Quinn so hard she won't be able to smile for a month. And I'm not going to dump your ass so fast you won't have time to blink."

"Really?" he said, sounding surprised.

"You know Puck, there's this thing. It's called sarcasm. It's a very useful tool in life. You should Google it. Or better yet, get Quinn to Google it for you." I said harshly, before hanging up the phone and bursting into tears once again.

I don't know how long I sat there, just curled up in a ball on the pavement, crying my eyes out, before I felt a pair of arms wrap around me and pull me into a hug.

"It's okay. Everything is going to be okay. Stop crying, Santana, please. I hate it when pretty girls cry." I smiled slightly, and buried my head in her neck.

"Everything is going wrong, Britt. My dad just died, after having cancer for three years. Mom's invited my sister to the funeral, which she wants to hold on my birthday. So I had a huge row with my mom and I'm pretty sure she hates me. Then I called my boyfriend because I wanted him to come cheer me up, and he calls me Quinn, and starts asking me if I want to have a 'repeat of last night', and if my throat was sore from 'screaming his name'. Why does everything bad have to happen to me? What did I do to deserve this?" I sobbed into her sweater, and she held me tight.

"You didn't do anything wrong. Have you ever heard the saying 'good things always happen to bad people, and bad things always happen to good people'? Well, it's not completely true, but still. You don't have to be a bad person to have bad things happen to you. Take Jesus for example. He saved loads of people's lives, and did all this great shit for everyone, and he got nailed to a cross and buried in a cave." I laughed a little, but was too upset to stop crying.

"Yeah, but that's different." I sighed.

"Well, look, let's go through this step by step. Your dad has had cancer for three years. He's been suffering for three years. You should be happy for him; he's not in pain anymore, and he's in a better place. Right?"

"Right, I guess."

"And the thing with your mom and the funeral. Okay, so having it on your birthday sucks, but surely you could make it a good thing? Like, have the funeral in the morning, then have your birthday later. It would be like celebrating your life and his life at the same time. And if you really don't want to, I'm sure your mom won't make you do that."

"I guess…"

"And obviously, she doesn't hate you."

"I know."

"So, what's wrong with your sister coming to the funeral?" she asked me. I sighed. It wasn't that I didn't want to tell her; I just didn't want to talk about it. But I explained anyway.

"Well, basically, three years ago, we were told that my dad had been diagnosed with cancer. The day after, she packed all her stuff away and left. She said she would call, but she never did. After about six months, mom called her. She said hello, then told mom she was busy and would call back later. She never did. Mom called again the day after, but her number had been disconnected. Eventually, about a year ago, mom managed to find her new number from one of her old friends. Yeah, she kept in touch with them but not us. Sucks huh? Anyway, she called her, and her husband answered. Then mom asked if she could speak to her, and he said she had taken the kids to day care. In two years, she had gotten married and had twins. And we didn't even know about it. He said he would tell her to call back, but he either forgot or she just didn't call. She probably just didn't want to call. But anyway, after that we just left her alone. I don't even think of her as my sister anymore. When a family member asks if I've heard from my sister, I say I don't have a sister. So they ask my mom, who tells them no. She's just Jenny, the girl that used to be my sister, but isn't any more." The tears were streaming down my face by now, but I didn't care.

"Oh, that's so terrible. I would never leave my sister and my father. My mother is a bitch, she can rot in hell for all I care, but I would never leave dad and Amelia."

"Yeah, well, now can you see why I don't want her to come? Especially if it's on my birthday, but mom says that's the only day she'll be able to make it. Mom says she does care that he's dead. If she cared, she'd change her schedule to fit the funeral, not make us fit the funeral into her schedule. I never want to see her again. Or her husband, or her kids. In my opinion they stole her from us."

"Don't be like that. It's not their fault she left you."

"Whatever. Carry on with what you were saying before…"

"Oh, yeah. So, your sister may or may not come. Screw her, you can just ignore her. Or if not, just be really, really rude. Okay, and about Puck. I didn't like him. From the way he walked all over you, I could tell he wasn't really a good boyfriend. And you deserve better than him, Santana. Let Quinn have him; you've still got me. As a friend, I mean. Don't worry, I'm not making a move on you or anything." I smiled slightly, then took a deep breath. I knew, if I said this, there would be on going back. It would be out there, and things would change completely. For better or for worse, I did not know. All I knew was that this would change things. But things had already changed so much, what's one more thing?

"Britt?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't want you to be my friend." She looked shocked, and sad, and even a little heartbroken.

"Oh. Okay then, I guess I'll just go."

"No!" I shouted, alarmed. That was not how I had meant it.

"What?" she looked thoroughly confused now.

"I meant, I don't want you to be my friend. I want you to be my girlfriend." It seemed like time had frozen. The look of shock on her face was enough to make me cry. I thought she was going to turn me down. But then her expression slowly changed from shock to happiness. Then from happiness to absolute joy. I stood up, brushed myself off, and opened my arms for a hug. She launched herself forwards, almost knocking me off my feet, and kissed me so hard I felt light-headed. It felt so good to kiss her. We had kissed before, but not like this. I smiled as she tangled one hand into my hair and slid the other down from around my shoulders to my waist. I slipped both mine around her body to rest just above her bum.

We eventually pulled apart for air, and I looked around. Then I froze. My mother was stood in the doorway, looking shocked, upset and a little bit disgusted. My brothers were stood there too, two in front of her and one behind, each sporting similar looks of disgust. To be fair, they would have looked like that even if I had been kissing a guy. But my mom had seen me and Puck doing more than just kissing, and she had never looked like that. She had never looked disgusted. That was what hurt the most. She didn't even have to say anything. Just the look on her face was enough to break my heart just that little bit more.

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