a/n: alllllll righty! Here is ten. This was THE HARDEST chapter I have written yet. There was just so much going on and that needed to happen. And there's a lot of words...I hadn't intended for it to be so long, but I added something that I KNOW you'll approve of. I can't say what it is now, but you'll see... I hope you enjoy it and I look forward to your reviews and seeing what you guys think. :)
Chapter 10 : A Smile Is Worth A Thousand Words
"Is your family still here?" I asked as I climbed out of her car. I was a little worried that they would question her for bringing someone home so late. Not worried that they would be mad about it, just worried because even though I show up at home super late almost every night, doesn't mean that other families are used to that. I didn't want her to have to make up an excuse for me being there or have to explain why I was there.
Santana popped open the trunk. I walked to the back of her car and pulled out the hangers she had bought and a grocery bag with Goldfish crackers and a new magazine. She bought the magazine after I had picked it up. I told her that she didn't have to buy it for me, but she insisted that she wanted to know who was over and out in 2011.
"No, but my mom should be home." Santana shut the trunk and we started toward her house. "She was texting me earlier when I was at work. I swear that woman should not be allowed to text."
That was cute. When my dad got a new phone from his work he would always text me things. For a week straight he sent me a text every morning at nine that just said hello and had a different smiley face. But now he just texts me when he has real questions like, what flavor of applesauce do you like or is your mom awake yet? I was pretty sure applesauce only had one flavor.
"So what did she cook for dinner this time? I'm starving." I asked.
Santana scrunched her forehead, stopped on the porch, and looked at me. "You didn't eat yet?"
"I ate the ice cream…that you bought me." I said.
"Britt. It's like, almost eleven." She pushed open the front door and stepped in her house.
"Okay. I'm fine then." I followed her in. I guess I hadn't realized it was that late. Well, I did realize it was late, because I had been worried about showing up at her house so late, but I guess I had forgotten that I was probably part of the only family in the entire world that didn't eat dinner before ten. At my house, for dinner, we scrounged and ate whatever there was whenever we felt like it.
"No. Britt. If you're hungry we'll eat something in the kitchen." She shut the door when I walked in. I waited by the entrance while she walked over to the foot of the stairs. "Mamma!" She yelled up. "I'm home, so you can stop texting me, please."
I laughed a little. Santana walked back and waved for me to follow her to the kitchen.
The house was so big and so empty without her family here. But it was still cozy. All the colors matched. Golds. Reds. Browns. It was pretty and warm. The couches looked like they could swallow you whole and even the candles matched the wallpaper. It felt like there was a fireplace following me wherever I walked or looked.
We walked into the kitchen and I set her hangers and the bag on the island counter. This time it didn't smell like amazing Mexican food. It just smelled like clean dishes and a lemon Frebreze commercial.
"Want tamales?" She opened the fridge.
"Yes!" I smiled and raced to stand next to her. Tamales were the best and I only ever got to eat them during Christmas when our neighbors brought them over. "I love these!"
She pulled out a green tub and I walked with her to the island counter. She popped off the plastic lid and looked at me with the biggest questioning eyes I had ever seen. "How many?" I felt like she made her eyes super big so I wouldn't feel guilty if I told her a ridiculously large number.
I reached in and pulled out two. They were still in that weird tamale skin and cold like they had been sitting for quite a few hours. She grabbed me a plate, wrapped the tamales in wet paper towels, and we put them in the microwave. I watched the tamales turn and cook in the microwave and Santana went back to the counter and started flipping through the magazine.
"So," Santana spoke when the tamales had made their sixteenth spin. I glanced over my shoulder at her. "I'm glad you called." She didn't look up. Her eyes were reading through an article.
I smiled and turned back to the microwave. "Me too. These are going to be scrumptious." I wanted to make sure she knew I appreciated the food.
Her phone rang and it kind of made me jump. It was like a sharp whip when I had been mesmerized by the low hum from the tamales reheating. I spun around and watched her start to dig through her purse. She was grumbling something about how it better not be her mom and getting more impatient after each second that she couldn't find it. But when she pulled it out and looked at the screen she stopped grumbling and a scowl covered her impatience. She answered. "Yeah?"
Santana's phone wasn't loud enough for me to hear who she was talking to. Plus the microwave was kind of noisy. Then I spun around, because I didn't want her to think I was trying to listen in on her conversation, even though I was going to ask who it was when she hung up.
"Yeah. Fine. With me." Santana spoke quickly and sharp. "Cause, she doesn't have it."
I peeked over my shoulder. Santana was leaning against the other side of the counter with her back to me.
"Right here." She paused. "God. Fine. Why are you freaking out?" Santana stopped talking again and I heard her walk over to me. When she reached me she held the phone out. "It's for you."
If I could have lifted one eyebrow at a time, I was sure that would have happened right now. Who would possibly be calling Santana to get to me? Did people already know that we were each other's favorite people? That would be cool.
I grabbed the phone and held it to my ear. "Hello?"
Santana walked back to the fridge and opened it.
"Hey, it's Quinn. Are you okay?" Quinn said it so quickly that it could have just been one sentence.
"Yes."
Santana glanced to look at me and I swear I saw her roll her eyes. Did she really not like Quinn that much? Well, I guess she couldn't totally hate her, because she didn't hang up on Quinn or tell her that I was in the bathroom and would call her back. I think Santana was just sneaky nice to other people. She was kind of snappy with Quinn on the phone, but it was nice of her to answer the call and let Quinn talk to me.
"Puck stopped by Shuester's when I got off." Quinn continued. "He told me that he had picked you up and you were a mess. Are you sure you're okay?"
Santana pulled out ketchup and sour cream and held them towards me from across the kitchen. I pointed at the ketchup. She nodded and put the sour cream back in the fridge.
"Yeah. I'm okay now. I'm at Santana's. We're eating tamales. And we bought hangers."
"Are you sure? I can come get you. Or I can talk to you on the phone. Whatever you need." Her words were pleading and apologetic. I think she felt bad for not being there for me when it happened. That didn't make sense though, because she didn't even know about it then. So I wasn't sure why she was so worried. How in the world did I get two people like this? Sure Quinn's not as warm and relaxing and easy as Santana, but the feeling that her words gave me was one of the best feelings.
"It's okay. I'm with Santana." I spoke with my eyes still watching Santana. She looked up at when I said her name and she gave me the most adorable look. One of those looks where you narrow just one eye, pinch your lips to one side of your mouth, and force yourself not to let out a real smile. It made me let out little hummed laugh that wasn't loud enough for anyone but me to hear.
Quinn let out a soft breath. "Okay. Well, we'll talk tomorrow. You work?"
"Sure do."
The beep from the microwave startled me. I jumped away from it. Santana must have thought it was funny because she was smiling again when she walked to the microwave. She opened it and pulled out the plate.
"And call me if you need anything. To talk. Or for a ride. Promise?" Quinn said.
"I promise." I said. "Bye Quinn. Thanks."
"Bye." She hung up, and so did I.
I walked over to the counter where Santana had already taken off the tamale wrapper, squirted ketchup on the plate and was stabbing one of the tamales with a fork. She ate a piece, and then handed me the fork. "What did Quinn want?" Santana spoke with a hand covering her mouthful of food.
"Just to ask if I was okay." I started to slice the tamale into little bite sized pieces. "We should all have a sleepover sometime." I looked up.
"Yeah, no." Santana shook her head. "That wouldn't end well."
"Why not?" I stabbed a piece, drowned it in ketchup, and then lifted it to my mouth. "Maybe you guys just need to reignite your friendship flame."
"Our friendship flame?" Santana smiled and it made her face look so sweet and soothing and it was nothing like some people smile at me when I say something a little different. If she hadn't already told me that I was her favorite person, then I could have figured it out right now.
She took the fork from me and stabbed one of the pieces I had cut. "Quinn's not very nice. And I'm not very nice." Her smile faded and she shrugged.
"She's nice to me." I took the fork from her. "And you're nice to me."
"Because you're… you." It took her a second to find the word you. "Nobody likes me." She joked and again shrugged.
I didn't think it was funny. "I like you. And I like your smile."
Her smile faltered, but not into a frown. It changed into another smile. She let it disappear and I wish she hadn't. I wish people didn't do that. They let compliments last for seconds when they should remember them forever. And Santana didn't even accept compliments most of the time, which was sad. I want to write down every nice thing about her on a piece of paper and make her memorize it. Or give her flashcards. She was the pretty girl that everyone was too intimidated to say anything to, but she was the girl who deserved words the most.
"I used to do stuff with Puck way before he and Quinn dated. We never dated, but people knew about us. " She spoke through our silence. I stopped chewing so I could listen to exactly everything she said. "And so, whatever, I slept with Puck after he and Quinn got together." She said that last part quickly. Maybe she wanted to rush through it because she figured it wasn't important or she knew it was wrong, but the fact that she said it only proved to me that she didn't lie. "That was my first time. He was my first."
I swallowed the food in my mouth, nodded, and stabbed another tamale piece. Whatever I did to make her start telling this story…I needed to do it more and forever. I wanted to hear all her stories and I wanted to hear them over and over and over.
"But someone told her about us having sex. Not really sure who it was, probably Puck, but it doesn't matter."
"I've never had sex." I spoke through a mouthful of ketchup and tamale. It wasn't really relevant to what we were talking about, but it still slipped out.
Her eyes snapped to mine. The look on her face was new. It wasn't the usual reaction I got from people when I told them that. I think I was too nervous and shocked that I had said it to be able to judge her reaction and figure out why she was looking at me like that. She wasn't blinking or moving, but she wasn't frowning or lacking an emotion.
She cleared her throat. "Well, it hurts. A lot. Especially the first time." She leaned forward on the counter and rested on her elbows. I could practically see her flipping through her thoughts and deciding what to say. "I was fifteen." She looked back up at me. "But Puck did it quick and it was better that way. Even if it hurt, I just wanted it over with."
I knew I was frowning. That was awful. Sex wasn't something that should be gotten over with. But I shut off my thoughts and tried to process the new information. I counted back the years. "She's still mad about it? It happened like four years ago."
"She's not mad. I mean, she doesn't like me. But we were still friends during high school. We had to be. It was easier. And we're still friends now."
"Oh…" I pinched my lips. "Were you in love with Puck? Are you still?" Was that why she slept with him? She didn't want to lose him to Quinn.
"Oh God no." She straightened up and walked to a cupboard. She pulled out two cups and walked them back to me. "He's a douche." And then she walked to the fridge and grabbed milk. Watching her like this was tied with watching her talk for the number one spot on my current favorite things to do.
I picked up a cup she had poured for me and started to drink it. I didn't want to ask any questions during her story, because I was worried that she would get distracted or stop. But I had so many questions. About her. About Quinn. About Puck. And about why she was telling me this.
She walked the milk carton back to the fridge and didn't talk until we both had finished the plate of tamales and our milk. "Like I said, it hurts a lot. And it's kind of hard to think of anything else besides it hurting." She rolled her eyes. "I was fifteen and insecure. And I kept asking Puckerman how I was."
It didn't matter what age you were. I was pretty sure every girl thought that. But I didn't say it, because I had never had sex and I didn't have any room to say something like that.
"The guys at school then started talking about a freshman who was like a dying fish in bed and just kind of laid there and did nothing." Her face only flashed a second of hurt and then covered it up.
I guess hearing the story out loud and hearing it four or so years after it had happened didn't have the same instant impact. It was one of those stories that brushed over at first, but then kept digging and made my heart sink. When I thought about it…being that young, being called that…it was awful. People could be so cruel and so clueless. I would go crazy if I heard someone say that about Hailey...or me.
"That's mean Santana. You shouldn't listen." I mirrored exactly what I had told her earlier when I had been crying. I wanted to have met her long ago so I could have told her those words when she was fifteen.
"I know. I know Britt." She tried to laugh it off. She grabbed our dirty dishes and brought them to the sink. "That all happened so long ago, so I'm over it. And I've started equally wicked rumors about Puck so I think we might be even. But," she looked over her shoulder, "that's one of the many reasons Quinn and I don't have sleepovers. It would be awful and awkward and we wouldn't have anything nice to say to each other."
"You didn't do nothing when we were in my bed." I said softly just in case she was worried her mom would hear, even though her mom was all the way upstairs. I just felt like it was important that I let her know how I felt about that night and how incorrect this rumor about her was.
But she still whipped around to face me, with wide eyes. She looked around the kitchen and then back at me. Her face was starting to flush. And then she turned back to the sink and continued to rinse the dishes.
That was cute.
The night we did stuff she was all sexy and hot. Then the next morning she was sweet and smiling at me. And now she was flustered. I have never made someone blush before. Well I had, but not for doing sexy stuff with them and then talking about it.
She shut the water off and walked back to me. "I've never done that." She was stumbling over her words and fiddling with the magazine.
I wasn't sure exactly what she meant. I had an idea, but I didn't know whether she meant she had never kissed someone's neck or whether she had never kissed someone's neck while they touched themselves.
She answered before I even had to ask. "With a girl."
Perfect. I didn't even have to ask her. All the mess with trying to figure it out myself and then trying to ask my mom, and then getting kicked out was just a huge roundabout way of getting the answer I wanted from her from a question I didn't even have to ask. But things happened for reasons and I would much rather have been here, with her, at her house getting this answer, than doing anything else.
Even so, I felt like I took the hard way. Next time I would just tell her what I was thinking instead of making a mess of things.
"Stop looking at me like that." She blushed even more. But I could see how tense she was, like the way I responded and acted right now determined everything. Her jaw was clenching and she looked the kind of nervous someone gets when they eventually end up puking.
I deadened the look on my face. I think I had been smiling before. "Sorry." I grinned again anyway. I wanted her to be okay and I knew smiling was the best way to make this okay and make her feel okay about talking.
"Have you?" She whispered. She looked even more flushed now. I could practically feel her throat tighten with the words. But then she also looked different, almost better. Kind of like all she needed was to talk about that stuff before it suffocated her. I wonder how long she had been holding on to that story about Puck and her and Quinn? Proof that she was a hundred times stronger than me. I couldn't even worry about things for an hour before I had given up and tried to ask my mom. She had been holding on to that rumor for years. People didn't know it, and I wasn't sure why not, but it was little things like that that could change someone.
"No."
She had asked the question like it had been nearly impossible to ask, but I didn't think it was a big deal. It was just a question and the answer was no, I hadn't done anything like that with a girl or had ever thought about it…until now. I didn't think there was a question in the whole entire world that would make me feel uncomfortable around her.
"Could have fooled me." She teased. All the tension in her words was gone.
Now I was blushing. She had caught me off guard. I have had guys say way more suggestive and dirty things to me and I didn't even budge when they had. All she was doing was teasing and I was blushing like the hugest dork.
"Want anything else Britt?" She walked to the fridge and grabbed a water bottle. She held it towards me.
"Sure." I said.
She walked back with two water bottles.
"I like when you call me Britt." I took the bottle. "You need a nickname."
"It's not a nickname, I'm just too lazy to say the rest of your name." She untwisted the cap from her bottle.
"What if I call you…San..ta." I smiled.
She scowled and twisted the cap back on her bottle. "No."
"Santa." I was smiling like an idiot and still blushing like a dork. I knew it. And I knew she could see it.
She stepped toward me and pointed a finger.
I backed away and darted so that the island counter was in between us.
"Britt that's not funny." She started to walk around the counter.
I kept moving so she didn't get any closer. "I love Christmas though. And Santa's big bulging sack."
She dropped her jaw and gasped out a laugh. "Stop." She was grinning now. "I am not Santa and I don't have a sack."
She started to move quicker around the counter, so I started to move away from her quicker.
"Want to hear a joke?" I smiled.
She stopped. "Fine." She crossed her arms. "Anything to get you to stop calling me Santa."
"I don't believe you."
"What?" Santana lifted both eyebrows and cocked her head.
"You said you never did anything with girls. But…" I sang the word but, "Santa knows where all the naughty girls live."
At first she was shocked I had said it. And then she was racing around the counter so fast that the only way I could get away was if I ran out of the kitchen. So I did. I ran out and ran through the living room. When I reached the stairs she was right behind me.
I screamed, because being chased up the stairs was the scariest thing in the world. But it was a laugh and a scream at the same time. She laughed too. Her hand almost caught my arm, but she wasn't quick enough. We stomped up the stairs and when I reached the top I sprinted for her room.
The door was open. I burst into her room and dove for her bed. I rolled and wrapped her blankets around me. I was laughing so hard. I felt the bed shift when she jumped on it too. She crawled on top of me and started to try and tug the blanket away.
I was squirming and couldn't breathe. She got the blanket off easily and started to pinch at my sides.
I screamed again.
"Shh." She laughed, but didn't stop pinching.
I tried to roll over underneath her, but with her straddling me, and her thighs pinched so tightly around my hips, I couldn't budge.
"I'm gonna pee." I forced the words through a desperate laugh. My stomach was cramping from laughing so hard.
"No more Santa." She pinched me again.
"Fine." I wriggled and held in a squeal. "Fine. No more Santa."
"Okay." She hopped off me and then off the bed. "Go pee you dork."
I sat up. I was out of breath and my mouth was sore from smiling too big and from laughing so hard. I scooted off the bed and followed her to her closet. "I already peed."
Her eyes snapped open when she looked at me.
I smiled again. "Just kidding. I didn't have to pee. It's my safety word…words."
"Well," she opened her closet and stepped in. "If you're ever in a situation where you need a safety word I suggest you chose something a little sexier."
I didn't respond, because I was still stunned that she had a closet that you could walk into. It was like another room. It was almost as big as my room. There were shoes all over and she had more clothes than my entire family combined.
"Santana?" A woman spoke from the door.
I jerked to face her and Santana poked her head out.
"Yes mom?" Santana went back into the closet.
"Just checking to see what all the noise was about." Her mom waved hi to me.
I figured I could answer. "Santana chased me up the stairs. Sorry for being noisy. I forgot."
"It's fine honey. And it's good to see you again. There are leftovers downstairs if you girls get hungry." Her mom started to leave and then stepped back in. "And your aunt is still here. Marcus took a nap all day so he's been up listening to us talk for the past few hours. Do you mind if I send him in here. Adult talk is probably a little boring for him."
"Sure." I nodded. Santana just grumbled.
Her mom left and then I watched Santana start to dig through her clothes. "Do you want to put these on the bed?" She picked up four jewelry boxes and held them out to me. "These are the ones I had Marcus pull out the other day."
"Can I look through them?" I loved looking through people's jewelry. It was like looking at something invisible. You got to see what they liked and see what other people bought them.
"Go for it." Santana turned back and I darted for the bed.
Before I was kneeling at the edge of her bed I had opened the first one. It was full of rings. Dozens and dozens and dozens of them. My eyes went wide. I grabbed a few and turned them between my fingers. "These are pretty."
Santana walked out from her closet and kneeled next to me. She reached in and grabbed a handful of rings. "Goodness, I haven't looked at these in forever."
The door creaked a little and Marcus walked in. He was dragging a blanket behind him and his hair was everywhere. He dropped the blanket right when he saw me and ran over. He kneeled on the other side of me, but stood up when he couldn't see on the bed. He reached in to grab some rings, but Santana slapped his hand.
"No way." She pointed at him. "You can look at one at a time and then switch it to look at another. But I don't want you losing these."
"That's what I was doing!" He snapped back at her and then grabbed just one ring.
Then I spotted earrings. I put all the rings back in the box and grabbed them. They were tiny little bows with a tiny little shiny gem in the middle. "These are cool." I said in awe, and ran my thumb over the cold silver.
Santana held her hand out and I gave her the earrings. At first I thought she was taking them, because she didn't want me to lose them, or because these were what she had been looking for when she made Marcus pull out her jewelry boxes. But she used her fingertips on my cheek to guide my head closer to her. "Try them out."
I didn't have earrings in, so she slipped the bows in quickly. She popped off the backs to them, held my ear between her fingers, and then I turned so she could put in the other earring.
"How do they look?" I asked. I was running my thumbs over the cold metal so she couldn't actually see how they looked.
"Perfect." She answered without asking me to move my fingers.
I turned to her little cousin. "Do you like them?"
"Yeah." He nodded, but went back to playing with the ring in his hand.
I stood and walked to her mirror. They were cute. Tiny cute little silver bows. I got close so I could see everything about them. All of my earrings were boring studs. These were amazing and shiny.
When I walked back to her and kneeled down I reached my hands up to take them out.
"No," Santana grabbed my wrists and pulled them away. "Keep them in." She didn't let go of my wrists until my hands were resting on her jewelry box.
"So you don't lose them?" I asked.
She bumped her hip into mine. "Sure."
We looked through the rest of her jewelry. Marcus didn't listen and kept putting all of the rings on his fingers at once. And then he fell asleep on the floor so Santana had to carry him back to his room. When she got back I told her that it was cool that she had rooms for people that didn't even really live here. And then we went to her bathroom. She let me use another toothbrush and told me that I could keep it at home for back up, or keep it in my car for whenever I stayed the night at different places. And then I just asked her if I could keep it here in case I came over by surprise again.
She said yes.
She also let me borrow shorts to sleep in since my leggings would make me super hot and sweaty. We crawled into her bed and I scooted to her. I slid one arm underneath her back so I could hug her body and then I laid my head on her chest. I loved that we could do this now and it was just something we did.
She played with my hair. Her fingers twirled it and gently tugged. "I can teach you how to do braids sometime." She mumbled. "So you can cross it off your list."
I nodded into her chest instead of answering. She sounded tired and I didn't want to make a noise and wake her up. I was glad I did that, because she fell asleep right after. She was the first to fall asleep this time. Probably because it was well past midnight and she had worked all day.
I squeezed my eyes shut and tried not to think about what happened with my mom. I forced myself to think about Santana, which wasn't that hard to do. I thought about when I first met her and I tried to figure out why she told me that story in the kitchen. I wanted her to smile all the time and it hurt me to know that she couldn't. I had never been so drawn to a person and I had never wanted to be around someone so badly. I wanted to be her best friend, I wanted to have sleepovers forever, and I wanted to touch her. She was sleeping though and even though Rachel was a little crazy when it came to her guidelines, I think that there are a few more things I wanted to do first before something happened again like what had happened in my bed.
It took me awhile to fall asleep, but I did.
xxxXXXxXX
"Hey, Britt." Santana shook my shoulder.
My body was so tired. My head was gently pounding and I didn't want to open my eyes. I especially didn't want to open them if that meant I eventually had to get out of Santana's bed. "No." I moaned and rolled over so my face was stuffed into her pillows.
"Britt please." She rubbed small circles over the middle of my back. "You can take a shower here."
"I don't wanna." I spoke into the pillow but doubted she could hear me. Did she seriously think I would move now? Especially now that she was rubbing my back. My body started to relax into sleep again. This was the best morning ever. Maybe she would rub my back until I completely fell back asleep.
"Britt." She sighed. "My dad's going to be here soon."
I snapped my head up from the pillow to look at her. It took a second for my eyes to wake up and get clear. She was lying on her side and propping herself up with her elbow. Again, she was fully dressed, freshly showered, and perfect. Her hair looked all curly and cute and amazing. "Your dad?" My voice was sleepy and crackled.
She nodded and smiled. The smile made her look weak and small. It made me want to give her the hugest hug I could. So I scooted over to her, squeezed my arm under her, and pulled myself into her chest. I closed my eyes and used the tips of my fingers to push into her back.
Maybe now she was going to let me fall back asleep, because she was letting me hug her for so long. Her hair was touching my neck and her shirt smelled so good. It smelled like her and made my mouth water. All I could think about was the first day we worked together and when she had pulled me into the back room to fix my outfit and how the first time she had gotten close to me I couldn't help but close my eyes and wish she would get even closer.
The next thing I did wasn't planned. I didn't expect to do it. I just wanted to do it and right now seemed like the perfect time.
I pulled back from the hug just a little, so I could scoot up and push my lips into hers.
It was meant to be a short peck. And it was. But for that brief second I felt her entire body hitch and her throat suck in all the air she had in her mouth. She hadn't expected it, but neither had I.
It had been too quick and too unexpected for me to get any other feeling from it that wasn't begging me to do it again.
So I did it again. I leaned in and kissed again. It wasn't a peck this time. But it wasn't a real kiss either. It was simple and our lips didn't move.
I kept still because I was startled and excited at the same time. I was panicking and it was because I wanted this so bad, and was praying that she was okay with it. Kissing on the lips was a big step and maybe I should have asked.
I knew she was panicking too because I could feel her heart thud in her chest. I didn't know exactly why it was doing that or what she was thinking. She didn't pull away though.
Her lips were gentle and even softer now that they were touching my own lips. Touching and pushing into her lips made me forget how to breathe and forget where I was. At first I couldn't figure out if this was okay, but now I was closing my eyes and relaxing every inch of my body that wasn't touching her mouth.
This was why people closed their eyes when they kissed. I always thought it was so kissing wasn't awkward. But when you kiss someone like Santana your body forces your eyes shut. Things like this were just natural. And if you dream with your eyes closed and you cry with your eyes closed then of course you would close your eyes when this kind of kiss happened. The best things happened with your eyes closed because you're supposed to feel it all. Dreaming was imagined, crying was felt, and this kiss was beautiful and perfect.
I pulled my lips back, but didn't move. So when I talked I was talking against her lips. "Was that bad?" I asked. I didn't even open my eyes, because I was hoping I could just kiss her again.
Knock. Knock.
She shot up from the bed so quickly that it looked like someone had electrified her.
"Santana, honey." A man spoke through the door.
"Uh, I'm changing Papa." Santana sprinted to the door and held the doorknob. "I'll be out in a minute."
"It's a little late in the day to be just getting out of the shower." Her dad answered. I looked at the alarm clock by her bed. 7:14am. "You don't have a boy in there do you?" He wasn't joking or teasing her when he asked this. The way he asked it gave me chills.
"No," she forced a laugh. "Of course not."
She turned to me, held up a finger as if to say one-second, and then slipped out her door. She shut it behind her and I heard her talking to her dad in Spanish for a while. Again, I wished I had remembered anything from that class in high school, but they were speaking so fast and so whip-like that I didn't think I could have caught anything even if I spoke Spanish.
I stood up off her bed and folded my hands. I wasn't exactly sure where to go. And I wasn't sure why she couldn't just say I was in here. Was she not allowed to have friends? That was silly and unlikely because her mom knew I was here.
Santana squeezed back in the door. Her body looked like it had been used as a punching bag, but not a real punching bag. Just an imaginary one that nobody actually punched. I think she forgot I was here because she was rubbing her palms against her forehead for a while before she looked up at me.
"Can you not have friends over?" I asked and sat back on the bed.
"No. I mean yes." She spun around her room, like she was looking for something, and then headed to her window. "I just didn't want my dad to get the wrong idea."
Wrong idea? What's that supposed to mean? How would he get a wrong idea? He didn't see anything.
She spoke to the window as she talked. "It's…just. I don't have friends over. I didn't want him walking in on you in my bed, and wearing my clothes." She looked at me.
Why didn't she say it? She didn't want him walking in on us kissing. I understood that. Of course I did. I wouldn't want anyone in my family walking in on that. Not only because she was a girl, but because that stuff was private. But, I guess because she was a girl it made it a little different. A lot different.
"My dad walked in on us in the morning." I shrugged. He had walked in on us in my bed without even expecting to see Santana and he was totally fine.
"Well my Papa is...I just don't want him to get the wrong idea about you."
I stood up. "Okay. So, do you want me to leave?" I looked around her room for what I might have brought over, but then I remembered I had brought nothing. "I don't have a car. But I can walk."
"No no." She rushed over to me. "I mean. Yes. I need you to leave. Just for now. For a second. I don't want you to get involved in anything and I don't want him talking to you. But you don't have to walk. My Papa is heading out to his shop out back. He said he would be back here in thirty minutes. I can call…Quinn?" She cringed as she said Quinn's name.
I was so confused. I didn't want to leave her. It felt wrong to leave her, especially since she was acting kind of frantic. Her dad's voice had left me on edge. I just didn't know if this would all be different if I hadn't kissed her. Would she have let me meet her dad and let her dad talk to me?
"Okay." I agreed and tried not to frown.
"Okay." She sighed and smiled and started to walk me to her door. "Let's get you showered and I'll let you borrow some of my clothes. And I'll call Quinn while you're showering. She should be awake. The girl's like a damn running clock."
I let her lead me into the bathroom. She showed me where everything was and even turned the shower on for me. And she said that she would bring some clothes in the bathroom for me and leave them on the counter.
I showered as quickly as I could. I think it only took me five minutes. My heart was pounding so hard. I kept imagining her dad busting through the door and catching me.
When I got out she had laid a whole bunch of different clothes across the counter for me. Skirts, shorts, jeans, tank tops, and a dress. There was even makeup for me to borrow. I didn't wear a lot of makeup in the first place so I just used her eyeliner and mascara.
Then I put on the dress, because it was probably better that I only borrowed one piece of her clothing instead of two. But then I remembered the only shoes I had were rain boots. I guess the rain boots wouldn't have gone with any of the clothes she had laid out for me, so I kept the dress on.
When I opened the door Santana was waiting just outside of it. She also had my shoes. "Your feet are a little bigger than mine. I don't think my shoes would fit." She set my boots down for me.
I stepped into them. "That's okay. Boots are cool."
"It's Friday, so you'll have to change when you get to work anyway. We're doing the cheerleader thing tonight." She put her hand on my shoulder and started to lead me to the stairs. "Quinn is here. She's out front in her car."
"Okie dokie." I said as we started down the stairs. We were going quick. I made sure to watch each step I took, since my rain boots were kind of clunky and I didn't want to slip.
"And Britt. I'm so sorry." She led me to the kitchen instead of the front door. "I am so so so sorry. You didn't do anything wrong. I'll see you at work in an hour. I hope this is okay."
"It's okay." I said.
The way she was talking and acting and rushing me around reminded me of that night she stayed at my house and that feeling I got when I thought she was going to see the dirty bathroom. Her father was just her version of a dirty bathroom.
We stopped at the counter and she handed me a yogurt, a spoon, and a banana.
I understood. I mean, I would have rather stayed here, with her, but I understood. I was just confused. She kept telling me that she was sorry and acting like this was her fault, but I felt like I had done something wrong. I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't have kissed her and made her panic.
"I'm not kicking you out. And you can come back tonight." Santana said.
"Santana." Her father's voice boomed through the house.
She went stiff, grabbed my arm, and started to pull me toward the front door. She looked scared. It wasn't the same startled look she had gotten in the bedroom when he knocked. She was completely terrified.
Seeing her like that made me start to become scared, and scared for her. What was he doing here? What had Marcus meant by that bully comment? He wasn't going to say anything or do anything to her, was he?
I stopped when she reached the front door. "I want to stay." I demanded. I couldn't hold it back any longer. I didn't know why we were panicking. I didn't know anything, except that I had kissed her and I liked it and now her dad was here and he was scary.
"No." Santana opened the door, grabbed my arm and pulled me to the porch. She shut the door behind us.
"But I want to Santana." I tried to argue with her. She wasn't even listening. "I'm not going." I planted my feet on the porch.
"I don't want you to stay. You'll make it worse." She snapped. "Go. Quinn is already waiting for you. Don't make her wait." She pointed out toward the road.
I looked and Quinn was waiting. The yellow car almost blinded me. I looked back to Santana. Her eyes were so hidden and so lost. I couldn't tell if she was about to yell at me again and tell me to leave or if she was going to wrap me in a huge hug and apologize.
My lip shook. I made it stop though. She had already seen me cry once and I wasn't about to do it again. But I wasn't crying because she said she wanted me gone. Sure, that was a part of it. It would hurt if anyone said that. I was just so fucking confused. What would I make worse? Why wasn't she going to even let me try with her dad?
But part of me knew that her desperateness and her pleading was for a reason. She wouldn't do this if there wasn't a really good reason. All I could think about was her dad. That was what was making her freak out. That was who had made her cry the first time I saw her. And that was why I wanted to stay.
But I didn't want to make her say it again. She had already asked me, and then begged me. And I sure as hell didn't want to make anything worse.
So I turned and I left. I got two steps before I turned back to her, held out her spoon, and made her take it. I took the banana and the yogurt with me though, because you can't give back food.
And then I started toward Quinn's car. The front door to Santana's house opened and shut before I got half way to Quinn.
I couldn't even form a thought that had an explanation. Santana was going to be at work soon. I would see her then. It would be fine. I knew it would be fine. Maybe I shouldn't have kissed her though. I wouldn't give that feeling back for anything, but maybe I should have just waited. I hated that I wasn't even able to think about it before I had done it and that she didn't get the chance to tell me if it was okay.
When I reached Quinn's car she was all smiles. But I couldn't make myself smile back. I opened her door and slouched into the passenger seat. And even though my tummy was grumbling I didn't open the yogurt or the banana. I just set them on my lap.
"You said you were okay on the phone last night. I don't believe you anymore." Quinn glanced over her shoulder and pulled out into the road. I guess she hadn't seen Santana and me on the porch. But then again Santana's front yard was huge and her car had been really far away.
"I am okay." I said. My voice was emotionless.
"Well, put your seatbelt on and then tell me what's wrong." Quinn said and completely ignored me saying I was okay. "And what? Santana had something better to do than take you to work with her?" She shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Not that I mind, because I was glad she called." She made sure I saw her smile, I think she did it so I was reassured that she hadn't gone out of her way.
Quinn was nice and I shouldn't be all grumpy like this when she went out of her way to come and get me. So I straightened up, pulled my seatbelt over my shoulder and clicked it on. "Santana just had to talk to her dad." I said.
I didn't want to say anything about Santana, because kissing was personal. And the stuff about her dad was personal. Too much had gone on at once and that seemed like it was safe to say.
Quinn did a double take. She looked at me once, like she hadn't believed me and then looked forward. And then she looked at me again and I couldn't tell what she knew or what she meant by that look. "Oh." It was all she said. And then she didn't question me further.
I was glad the subject was dropped. I didn't want to have to lie to Quinn, because I was the worst liar and probably incapable of doing it. But I didn't want to say too much and I wasn't sure what was too much. I didn't know anything. I didn't know if it was right for me to have left. Yes. I guess. I mean. Santana wanted me to. But if she didn't show up to work right on time then I was going to go straight back to her house.
When Quinn and I got to work, Mercedes was already there with Tina. They were in the back putting on their outfits. Tina was wearing an all-black cheerleading outfit, which was totally awesome. She kind of looked like a zombie cheerleader, minus all the zombie makeup.
I put mine on with Quinn. Red and white top, red skirt, white shoes, and we both pulled our hairs up into tight ponytails. It reminded me a lot of high school, except our outfits weren't this color. And Quinn looked exactly like she had looked the first night I had met her.
Mercedes walked over to me once Quinn had left. "First of all, I'm not going to even ask why or how you showed up with Quinn. I mean, you have taken this thing to a whole new level. I applaud you girl. And if I'm not mistaken I think you have both Santana and Quinn fighting for your attention."
I turned to Mercedes. It was the first time I had smiled since leaving Santana's. "Cool."
"Second." She reached her hand up and touched my ears. "Where in the hell did you get these? They were shining from across the room."
I had forgotten about Santana's earrings. I shot both hands up just to make sure they were still there. "Shining? They're not shiny?"
"Those diamonds are blinding. The second you walked in those rocks in your ears lit up the entire place."
Rocks? They were bows though. "They're bows."
Mercedes shook her head and leaned in closer. "These are beautiful. Girl," She leaned back and put her hands on her hips, "who gave them to you?"
"Nobody gave them to me." I turned to look at her. She had the corner of her lip lifted, and I think she was waiting for me to tell her about a secret lover. Wait. I paused. And I shifted my eyes around. Santana was secret. Secret for now.
But any thought of Santana right now was making my tummy turn and not in that tummy turning way she had made me feel the other night in my bed. I felt like I had done something wrong and I didn't know what exactly I had done, but I was sure I had done all of it wrong.
"Then where did you get them." Mercedes continued to question me. "Because bling like that ain't cheap."
"Santana let me borrow them." I shrugged.
Mercedes threw her hands in the air. "I give up. I have no clue how you do it, but I give up." She pursed her lips and then sat and watched me tie my shoes. "Are you okay?"
I was a little shocked she had asked that. Was it obvious? "I'm fine." I shrugged. And I was fine. I was just worried about Santana. I wanted her to be fine.
"Okay…" she seemed hesitant. "You just seem a little off." Mercedes stood. "Oh. And don't forget about us little people." She teased and winked at me. "I know you are loving all this attention, but if you keep getting gifts like that don't forget that I am not ashamed of you re-gifting anything." Mercedes left before I could say anything.
I wanted to keep talking and follow her, but I still couldn't shrug off my thoughts of Santana. And then I remembered I was waiting for her.
I ran out from the back, through the main floor and sat, waiting, out in the front parking lot until our shifts started. She had ten minutes to get here.