At school, I had to put up the ditz act again. Then, in glee club, things got bad. Artie was making some rude, fake-ghetto comment about a song, I think it was a decision between doing Brittney Spears or Lady Gaga this week. Both were done before, but the club felt we could do more with them, I guess.
Mr. Schue turned to me. "Brittany what do you want to do?"
I sighed. "Do what?" I asked a far off dreamy look on my face.
"Brittney Spears or Gaga?" he asked, an eyebrow raised.
"Um, I like ducks. Like when we did the ballads and the ducks were in the hats, that was fun, so let's do that!"
Puck rolled his eyes. Santana glared at him and smiled at me.
"What I think Britts is trying to say is that we should mix a bunch of pieces of paper with the names on them into a hat, then draw, and whichever one we get is the one we do."
I looked at her gratefully.
Mr. Schue shrugged. Artie, however, flipped out.
"Oh please, she thinks unicorns are real. Let's just do Gaga and be done with it." He smirked.
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. "Unicorns are real. So are leprechauns." I frowned the best frown ever.
He turned to me. "Brittany, you're so stupid that you think the President is Will.. The only job your intelligence level qualifies you for is either Hooters or a strip club."
I turned in shock at his words. The fuck he say…?
I felt tears streaming down my face as I ran out the door.
Santana growled and I sunk to the floor by the lockers.
I wipe away my tears and I hear Santana and Quinn yelling.
"…She gets enough of that at home! God damn we're supposed to be a team! How dare you? She's my girlfriend and I need to protect her!"
I got up and walked into the room.
"Es Está bien, Santana. Él no sabe nada mejor." I whispered.
I looked over at a fuming Quinn. "Quinn, calmez-vous. Il est juste fou, et c'est un connard quand il est fou. Tout simplement se détendre pour le moment, mais je pense que nous devrions leur dire. "
The club looked at me. I turned to Mr. Schue.
"Brittany, what did Santana mean?" he asked.
"Mi padre piensa que es divertido que era un fantástico y la violación de mí. Yo no soy un idiota, de paso." I told him.
He took a step back, eyes the size of saucers, and Santana looked at me with emotion.
I looked over at the club, all of whom were staring at me like I was a circus freak.
I glanced at Quinn and she nodded numbly.
"Chaque fois que vous êtes prêt, Quinn. "
She nodded.
I took a step forward. "Quinn and I are beat regularly. I am not an idiot as our friend Artie thinks. I'd appreciate it if you had some compassion, because what they do is not even imaginable to your minds. And don't ask about the police, they already know. My dad basically told them that I was bi, and after I came out to him I tripped down the stairs trying to get to my girlfriend's house. They bought it and now we can't go back to court on this."
Tina fainted. Mike caught her, but looked a little woozy himself.
Artie looked…smug? Yeah, my ex looked smug.
I glared at him. "If you're so smart, what's the first 50 numbers of pi? What's Schrödinger's Cat? And if you're being beat up on, show us some evidence." He smirked. What was his problem?
Quinn, Rachel, and Santana growled in unison.
I shrugged and nodded. "3.. Schrödinger's Cat is an example of a much bigger idea. The idea is that if you have a cat, and you put it in a box that you can't see through with poison or something like that, until you open the lid of the box, you don't know if it's dead or alive. This gives it the quality of being both dead and alive. It's basically the concept that you can be two states, dead and alive, liquid and solid, sick and healthy, at the same time."
Artie's look vanished and the club looked at me with curiosity.
"As for evidence…" I said.
Santana bristled. "B, you don't have to." She told me.
I just smiled and said through gritted teeth, "No, Artie needs evidence because evidently, my word isn't good enough."
She shrugged and Artie scowled.
I pulled up my shirt to reveal skin peppered with fist-size bruises.
The club did a double take and I turned around, showing them my extremely painful burn.
"Well…w-well what about Quinn? She could be lying-"
I silenced him with a glare and she pulled up her shirt, showing giant handprints all over her torso and breast.
I looked at a pained Mr. Schue. "Quinn too." I told him and he paled.
I shrugged my shirt back on and they looked up at me with tears in their eyes.
"I'd like to trio with Quinn and Santana on a song, they know what it is."
I sat down at the piano and started playing the first chords.
Santana and Quinn smiled at me and we started singing.
She walks to school with the lunch she packed
Nobody knows what she's holdin' back
Wearin' the same dress she wore yesterday
She hides the bruises with linen and lace
The teacher wonders but she doesn't ask
It's hard to see the pain behind the mask
Bearing the burden of a secret storm
Sometimes she wishes she was never born
Through the wind and the rain
She stands hard as a stone
In a world that she can't rise above
But her dreams give her wings
And she flies to a place where she's loved
Concrete angel
Somebody cries in the middle of the night
The neighbors hear, but they turn out the lights
A fragile soul caught in the hands of fate
When morning comes it'll be too late
Through the wind and the rain
She stands hard as a stone
In a world that she can't rise above
But her dreams give her wings
And she flies to a place where she's loved
Concrete angel
A statue stands in a shaded place
An angel girl with an upturned face
A name is written on a polished rock
A broken heart that the world forgot
Through the wind and the rain
She stands hard as a stone
In a world that she can't rise above
But her dreams give her wings
And she flies to a place where she's loved
Concrete angel
The club was crying by the time we stopped and I had tears in my eyes, too.
Quinn and Rachel shared a knowing smile and got up.
I held my breath, knowing what was about to happen.
They smiled at each other and I squeezed Santana's shoulder.
Within seconds Quinn and Rachel were fused at the lips.
The club grew silent and I laughed.
They pulled apart. "Three months. Three months I've been waiting to do that." Quinn told them. I grinned.
The club mouthed words but had none. I just adjusted my shirt and sang the words "Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone./I'll be waiting; all that's left to do is run./You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess./It's a love story baby, just say yes."
The club grinned and Santana, being the bitch she is, started singing mockingly, "Going to the chapel, and we're gonna get married, going to the chapel…"
Quinn glared.
I grinned.
Mr. Schue cleared his throat. "Brittany, Quinn, I appreciate you trying to lighten the mood, but seriously please talk to me. I understand that this is out of court hands but if you need anywhere to stay you now have a full support system in place."
I nodded and Quinn did too.
In another part of the building…
Two drunken men stumbled down the hallway, each armed with a knife. The smell of alcohol was enough to get you intoxicated. They made their way to the choir room. They nodded at each other and walked in the doors.
"Quinn, Brittany, it's time to go."
Brittany shook her head fearfully and so did Quinn.
They drew the knives.
DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUN! I'll try to have this updated by the end of the week!