Chapter 10

Bent into the mirror of the empty third floor girls' bathroom, my hair was a tangled mess. My sweater was way too big and I'd thrown it on over white shorts and purple tights. I looked ridiculous.

The dance excuse was getting old. That's what Quinn said, eyeing me up in the hallway and giving me a shake of her head. She pulled me into the lockers, her soft hand gripping my bicep. "Brittany, you've gotta start dressing normally. I mean, I know we're in Glee Club now and no one in there is cool except for Puck and Finn, but we're still cool. We're still Cheerios on the inside. Okay?" She smiled at me, pulling the glass turtle necklace I was wearing away from my throat. "Like seriously, this is just childlike."

"My dad bought it for me at the ocean."

"When, Brittany? Ten years ago?"

I looked down at the floor. No, eight, I thought.

It felt like it was choking me. I stared into the bathroom mirror and rubbed at the turtle's head. "Good luck," I whispered to it. "You're supposed to be good luck."

I twisted the faucet and splashed some water on my cheeks. A few drops slid down my wrist to stain my sleeve, making me colder than I already felt.

When I closed my eyes I saw Santana's. I felt her skin instead of the porcelain sink, pressing back at me. I saw her black hair behind my lids, swinging against her chest, her lips that I wanted to kiss, the curve of her back and her ass and her thighs in her bedroom.

"I don't love you

but I always will..."

My eyes came open and I pulled away, ready to stab my headphones over my ears and leap into the hallway. There were only a few minutes left before lunch ended and 6th period began. I could get one song in, maybe something by Paula Abdul. I was in a Paula Abdul mood. "Cold Hearted Snake" or "Straight Up." Those were good for dancing and they made my body feel like a light bulb was inside of it.

I slipped my headphones around my neck, my feet two steps from the door. "Bye, bathroom," I said.

Someone was crying. It was muffled and desperate, her sobs squashed into rustling toilet paper. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10. It didn't stop. It was coming from the stall at the very back.

"Hello?" I asked the open room.

I heard the girl blow her nose and unlock the door.

A tired voice slid over my shoulder. "Hello," she whispered, her voice even deeper than usual from all of the tears drowning it.

Santana.

She was like a ghost, like a person I'd dreamed last night who was suddenly in real life.

"Are you okay?" I asked, following her with my eyes as she strolled towards me and past me, holding her leather jacket in one hand.

"Well, fuck, you caught me crying again. This is getting really embarrassing. Lucky it was you though," she said with a smile. "I can't let all of the losers that go to this school see me being just as sucky as them." She laughed a little to herself. "I didn't think there'd be anyone else on this floor right now."

I walked in her direction and she walked further away. Her brown eyes were laced with red spider webs. She perched at the sink near the tampon dispensers and turned the water on, dropping her jacket to the floor in a black puddle. From the metal box of paper towels on the wall, she shot out two brown squares and ran them under the tap, wiping gently at her bleeding mascara.

"Where were you?" I asked. "You haven't been in school all week."

"That's right. I met this guy downtown, like this hot black dentist. Well, I think he was a dentist. That's what he said while he was drilling me." Santana laughed, clutching the wad of wet paper towels in one hand and giving herself a grin in the mirror. "Anyway, we were pretty busy getting our mack on so I couldn't make it to school."

"Really?"

She bent down to pick up her jacket and I saw it on her hip, a purple-yellow bruise. I saw it for just a second. One second. And then I couldn't stop seeing it.

She pulled the jacket over her shoulders and promptly zipped it. "I'm skipping the rest of this shit day," she spoke matter-of-factly. "Wanna come?"

I thought of following her, touching her arm, holding her, comforting her. But I didn't make a good girl. I wasn't normal. I didn't know what I could do to make things better. So instead I stood in place, my sneakers rocking into the tile.

"Santana?" I asked.

"What?"

I pointed a finger through the air towards her side. "What happened?"

She blushed, wrapping her arms across her chest as tightly as she could. "What? Nothing! Nothing happened," she said defensively. "I just wanna get out of here. I'm not feeling higher education today. That's all. God, you know you don't have to have a reason for things all the time. Sometimes you just do what you want and say fuck it."

"There's always a reason," I said quietly. "Like how my sister told me her friend stole all her Barbies and she had to pay her five dollars to get them back. But I think my sister just wanted to buy some Reese's Cups instead."

Santana gave me a sad smile. She placed her cool, damp hands on both of my forearms. "You're so gullible, Brittany."

"No, I've never been to Lilliput."

Her palms on my arms curved up and down, massaging me. "I wish I could be like you," she whispered. She leaned in to kiss my cheek, the soft heat of her lips burning my skin. She lingered there for a second, her dark eyes drinking me in. Her hand reached up to stroke my necklace. She clutched it, rubbing its edges with her thumb, a few slips grazing my collarbone. "I like this. It's a fucking turtle," she said, laughing.

There was a bubble in my throat. I wanted to throw up. I looked down at her fingers so close to my breasts. My words fell hot upon them. "I don't think you met any hot dentist. Not really. What happened to you?"

"Oh, who cares?" she muttered. "Something's always happening, isn't it?" She jerked herself away from me, painting her body along the wall. "So you don't wanna come?"

She looked so tiny then, even though she was a few inches shorter than me. But now she looked like a shadow. Like someone completely different.

"I can't," I breathed. "I can't miss any more classes."

The door swung open. A red-haired girl in an Abercrombie sweatshirt made a face at the two of us. "Sorry for interrupting, but some people actually piss in here," she said.

I bit my lip and watched as Santana slipped out the gap between bathroom and hallway. Abercrombie Girl sneered. I ran past her and slammed myself into a corner stall, my butt on the toilet seat and my head in my hands. I'd wait for the red-haired girl to leave so that I could leave alone.