This was getting hard. Really, really hard. For one thing, I was running out of things to do to Brittany; for another thing, ever since yesterday, the only look she would give me was one of disappointment and hurt. I hate it when she looks like that. Why does she have to look at me like that? I'm just protecting myself. Yeah, but from who? You? How you feel about her?

"Shut-up!" I slammed my locker shut in frustration. This shouldn't be so hard!

"Hey Lopez, don't punch the locker so hard. You might injure yourself." Puck sneered at me as he passed by.

"Shut it Puckerman." Ugh. Nobody understands me. Except Brit. And she's the cause of my misery. Hastily twirling the combination lock, I wrenched open my locker, grabbing a notebook and pencil. Things I've done to Brittany. "Let's see…"

Pinched her? Check.

Tripped her on the way to Cheerios practice? Check.

Run hot water over her face? Check.

Pushed her to the floor yesterday? Check.

I counted down the list. Four items for each of the days of the week. "Ugh." I leaned back against my locker. One more item. And then I can finish this hell week. Luckily I hadn't seen her all day

"Hi Santana!" Or not. She bounced up to my locker, bubbly as always. "You already for glee club practice?"

"Ugh. Don't remind me. Yesterday it was Rachel's stupid drama queen song and today is Friday and I just want to be out of this stupid High School."

"You'll feel better after glee club." She linked our pinkies and it was all I could do to not swear at her in frustration. Stop giving me fucking butterflies! Stop touching me! Stop touching me, stop touching me…"stop touching me!" I unhooked our pinkies, swatting her hand away as she tried to link them again. "Stop touching me Brittany!"

She stared at me in bewilderment. "I was only linking our pinkies."

"Yeah well, I don't want to link our pinkies. Or our arms, or anything okay? I just want to go to glee club and get out of here."

"Santana…"

"Brit, just leave me alone okay?" I grabbed her by the shoulders, desperately fighting the urge to slam her against the nearest locker and kiss her. "Leave. Me. Alone." She nodded silently, turning and walking away, her cheer skirt swishing around her hips and butt.

"UGH!" I leaned against a locker in frustration. I hate this, I hate this, I hate this! One more thing to get back at her. One more thing and then I'll—

"Guys? Guys? Guys, please don't do this. I swear, I'll write an article and expose this to the whole school." Across the hall, Karofsky and his stupid prick of a henchman had Jacob by the throat, pinned against the locker.

"Oh yeah? And what do we care? Not that this is gonna ruin our football practice or anything." Karofsky held up a blue slushie, slowly pouring it down Jacob's pants.

I rolled my eyes. "Stupid jocks. Giving a slushie…"

That's it. I know how I can end this. Today.

"Hey everyone. Look what I brought."

"Slushies?" Puck walked over, eyeing the carton of slushies in my hand. "Since when do you bring slushies to glee practice? In fact, since when do you do anything nice?"

"I have to say, this does look oddly suspicious," Kurt chimed in.

I shrugged, faking a smile. "What can I say? Sometimes, I'm just a nice person."

Mercedes rolled her eyes as she took a slushie. "Says the cheerleading bitch of the school."

Fighting the urge to punch her stupid, sassy face, I handed out the rest of the slushies, setting one on the piano for Mr. Shue before grabbing my own and Brittany's.

"Are you better now?" Right on schedule; she's walked up behind me.

"Sure am Brit." I slowly twisted the lid off the slushie. "I am so, so much better. In one swift movement, I removed the lid, tossing a purple slushie in her face.

She stood there dripping wet, the slushie staining her crisp, clean Cheerios uniform. Coach Sylvester was going to have a fit. A pang caused my stomach to clench, like a rock had settled inside it.

She looked so hurt. Hey, that's the price she pays for messing with you. She did this to you remember? She's the one who made you feel this way. Clenching my fists, I walked toward her, pushing her and pushing her around the room, my hands becoming stained with purple slushie.

Somewhere deep inside, the anger bubbled over and I found the words from yesterday's song spewing out of my mouth. "When you see my face, hope it gives you hell! When you walk my way, hope it gives you hell! If you find a man that's worth a damn and treats you well, then you're a fool it's just as well hope it gives you hell!" I pushed her hard, knocking her to the ground.

She laid there quivering as I loomed over her, ready to kick her for all it was worth. But instead of cowering, she sat up, backing into the wall and shakily climbing to her feet. Her eyes sparked with a fire I'd never seen before. "Why did you do that?" She pushed me back, causing me to raise my fist. I was ready to punch her.

The fire in her eyes suddenly went out, replaced with a look of pain. Her voice shook, like she was going to cry. "All I ever did was like you." My hand quivered in the air and suddenly, I could no longer hold it up.

"You what?"

She stared at me, then ran from the room crying.

"You know, I thought I was mean, being the head cheerleader. I thought that being mean meant power. But you?" Quinn looked at me in disappointment. "You're just a bitch."

The words stung more than I liked to admit. My fist fell to my side as I watched her follow after Brittany.

Friday? Sigh. Check.