Okay, next chapter! Day Ninety Five - so about 3 months after they first kissed.
Hope you still like the story - I keep being inspired, so I keep writing ... So I'll keep updating ;) Let me know what you guys think!
Day Ninety Five.
We've been here for three hours and it's already a disaster. Quinn's standing in front of me, in the ladies' room and has the most panicking look in her eyes that I've ever seen. She's somehow shouting at me, but I'm not really sure how to react. Let's see where it went wrong. I looked at Brittany with my most vicious look every time she was about to touch or kiss me. She did an okay job listening to me, up until the part where she got comfortable enough again - actually: drunk - to forget about the rules. She sneaked up on me to steal a kiss, but I turned my head away from her and laughed at my friends as if she was playing around with me. Almost three months in and we're still hiding. The longer we keep up the act, the harder it's getting to tell anyone the truth. My dad's the only one that knows. I'm dying to tell Quinn, but Brittany and I always seem to skip the essential moment where we talk about that aspect of our relationship: the going public part. I'm not afraid to admit that I fell in love with a girl. I'm afraid to admit that it's Brittany. And I'm afraid of Jacob's reaction, because it's Brittany.
So, just to try and piss me off because I wouldn't let her kiss me in this public place, Brittany started dancing with the girls that are around. It worked - I got more irritated by the second and Quinn could tell. Out of nowhere, I insulted every person around me and tore down their look or behavior. I got even bitchier than usual and my precious Brittany was to blame. She acts a lot like this, lately. Every night, she wants to go out, but I can't always tag along. I have work and I need to be decent at least half of the time that I show up there. Last week, I told Jacob's secretary to go fuck herself when she wouldn't put him on the phone. It's because I was so exhausted and I got cranky. Thank God I used to sleep with her boss, though, because I know a person who got fired for a whole lot less. Fact is that I can never look that woman in the eye anymore. And Jacob's still a little bit pissed about it. I can't really blame him - but I can't actually tell him what got in to me that day, either. He's doing much better now and I couldn't be happier about it. He's not dating anyone else yet, but I get the impressing that he's coping. His fragile heart accepted that I don't belong with him - at least nog anymore. So I don't spend every night at his house anymore - that habit slowly phased out, luckily. But there are times, when I come over and cook him dinner, that I happen to fall asleep on the couch next to him while watching a movie and it's not weird at all. It still feels so good to talk to him. He really gets me, you know? Brittany gets me, too, but there's still so much hesitation when it comes to expressing her feelings that I need a second person to talk to. She's the kind of person that rather acts out when upset or happy. And by act out, I mean: find alcohol and dance.
And tonight we ended up here, with Brittany being hammered since her eighth glass of red wine while dancing around with the tramps in this place. I got jealous and I don't like being jealous. It never happened to me until I found myself in love with my best friend. Every time anybody even risked getting close to her and put her hands around my lady's waist, a raging fire started burning inside of me. Quinn poked me to draw my attention and I looked up to throw an evil look.
"What's up with you, beautiful? You look smoking hot tonight, but you don't seem to care about it?"
Rachel released the straw from her mouth and nodded.
"Yeah. You haven't even insulted me once in the last hour."
It's kind of funny how she just always expects me to be horrible to her. Quinn's eyes wandered off to Brittany, who had switched to drinking tequila.
"Forth one in ten minutes. That'll be a decent hangover. What's going on with her?"
I shrugged and tried not to stare at her too long.
"What going on with both of you, actually? You're acting all weird around each other."
Another tequila ended up behind Brittany's teeth and the desperate attempt to get drunk and slightly irritate me started to become rather enjoyable to watch.
"Britt, lay off the tequila a little bit. I'm not caring you home." I shouted across the room.
She interrupted the dancing - thank God! - and finally walked over to spend a few minutes with us. I thought that would be it. That would be the end of our uncomfortable act. It wasn't. She drank a little bit more tequila. And once she was engaged in a serious discussion with one of my oldest friends about the way my body looked like, I knew the ship had sailed. And crashed. And sank. I closed my eyes and inarticulately prayed that she wouldn't go there. But she did.
She told everyone that was involved in the discussion that she had seen me naked almost every day for the last couple of months and that she was one hundred percent sure that I had amazing tits. My hands cupped my face in a desperate way to disappear. It was embarrassing and anything but the coming out that I had imagined. I didn't come out of the closet, no, she pushed me out of it. But out of nowhere, I started laughing hysterically, because I couldn't care less that she told everyone, really. It was easy: she just offered me the opportunity to kiss her in public for the first time. So I did, just to finally shut her up.
"What are you doing?" she asked me, when she backed away, all surprised.
"You're the most annoying, terrible person I've ever met. But I love you."
She adorably smiled, even though I wasn't really sure if she realized what was going on, and put her arms around me. Then, she bent over to me again and french kissed me intensely. I enjoyed it so much that I forgot about every single person standing around us.
The next thing I knew, Quinn grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and dragged me to the restroom.
And now we're here and I have some explaining to do. Her eyes are big and I can sense some panic sneaking in her voice.
"What the hell are you doing, Santana?" she utters.
I bite my teeth and shrug all cute in an attempt to apologize.
"What are you guys doing?"
Her fingers point to the other room, where I left Brittany behind. I can see she's not really dealing well.
"Well ... Britt and I are kind of ... You know."
I clap my hands and it makes no sense at all. The blonde in front of me scratches her forehead and frowns.
"Are you telling me that you are nailing your very best friend, the biggest slut in the history of lesbianism?"
Quinn has no tact. At all. Ever. She's even worse than me.
"Excuse me, but I'm pretty sure that lesbianism isn't even a word."
She grins and crosses her arms: "I just called your girlfriend a slut and you comment on that?"
I shrug and fix my hair by looking at my reflection in the mirror. Marvelous as always.
"Brittany's not a slut. She's been around, sure. But she was a predator. And I can't say all that practice hasn't paid off."
Quinn's face contracts and she gages.
"Disgusting."
I put on my strong act again and cross my arms as well, putting the weight of my body on one leg.
"You don't know what you're missing, Q. Besides, we actually love each other and all."
Her face relaxes. I guess something in my eyes convinced her of that, even though my attitude tends to disguise my true feelings. My toughness is not working this time.
"How long has this been going on? And why haven't you told me?"
That's the thing: she's not mad about us being together, she's mad because I didn't tell her. I've always told Quinn everything about my life. And this is sort of a massive twist.
"Almost three months, I guess."
I pretend not to know that it has been exactly ninety five days since I first kissed her. It was the best thing that ever happened to me. I still think back on that moment every single day. She was wearing a black skirt and a casual pink top. She looked absolutely beautiful that night, with her hair braided into a bun and her beautiful legs working up some sparkling drops of sweat thanks to all the dancing she did. I just stood there and watched an impressively hot girl walk over to her to grind their bodies against each other. I've seen her act like that many times before, but that night, something happened to me and I got jealous. She dropped it to the floor, she shook her ass - she did it all. I never liked R&B that much before. Then she lifted herself up all sensually and I found myself staring at her breasts shamelessly. I wanted to be that girl who was dancing with her. I wanted to smile at her with that naughty look in my eyes. I was intrigued by the way she pressed her lower body against the girl's upper right leg and wiggled her toned ass to the beat of the empowering music. So I did something I never expected and put myself in between Brittany's longing look with that lady and pressed myself up against her body like I had done it a million times before. She wasn't offended - dancing was all she was interested in that night, so she just danced with me instead. Her baby blue eyes softened the moment our eyes met and a charming smile colored her entire face. She looked breathtakingly beautiful. Every noise in the room faded. Every person disappeared. Every color that wasn't blue was wrong. Only her eyes were right. There was no hesitation when I dived in to kiss her in the middle of the dance floor and it immediately felt right. She was startled for a second, but the truth is that we were both intoxicated by the many drinks we had that night, and she kissed me back. It was hot as hell and my stomach just went crazy. It's the first time I ever felt butterflies in my belly. Even more, I became short of breath and clasped on to her so tightly that it freaked me out when I thought about it afterwards. She felt so good. We felt so good. Her little, cute nose hovered over my left cheek when we took a break from kissing and I panted so hard that no words could be spoken. She didn't look at me, though. She held her eyes closed tightly and allowed short sighs of breath to pass along my skin. She was too surprised to apprehend what was happening. I softly sucked on her lower lip because I really wanted to feel her touch again and suddenly tension started to work its way to my core. My body overreacted and I got turned on by what we were doing. That's when I stopped and backed away from her. I laughed sillily as if I was playing around and disappeared right after that. She was way too drunk to ever remember, I assumed. I was wrong.
"Three freaking months and you haven't told me? Aren't you ashamed of yourself?" Quinn shouts at me.
I didn't expect her to react this way. But frankly, I didn't expect to come out in front of her like this, either.
"No, not at all, really. Because you would've run off the second you found out and you would've told the Israeli Hobbit."
"Her name is Rachel. And she's American."
"I know that." I reply quite arrogantly. "But it pisses you off when I call her that, so I keep doing it."
She smirks and wiggles her nose twice until she's ready to think things through.
"Does Jacob know? I mean, she's his cousin."
I snort sarcastically and roll my eyes: "Yeah, I'm reminded of that every day. That's why it's been this big of a secret. I don't want to hurt him."
She's putting one and one together when she asks me if Brittany's the reason why we broke up. I nod quietly.
"Wow, Santana. I'm still shocked." she utters after a silent moment.
I smile and raise my eyebrows meaningfully. I can tell.
"Is the sex good?"
Of course she's going to ask me that. A mysterious expression takes over my entire face and I'm not really sure if I want to tell her the truth. But she immediately notices that something's not being said, so her husky voice repeats the word "please" while she's clutching my lower arm until I finally cave in with a big smile on my face.
"It's amazing, okay?" I admit.
It feels so liberating to say it. Quinn's jaw drops.
"It's mind-blowingly amazing. I mean, the things she does to me, it's ..."
My hands are making all kinds of gestures when I notice a doubtful change in Quinn's expression, so I immediately stop being so graphic.
"It's too weird to tell you, but - just believe me when I tell you that it's good."
"Really?"
It's like she can't believe it. She knows I had quite some boyfriends in the past, so this is really surprising her.
"But we're having too much sex." I eventually tell her as I fix my mascara with my pinky.
My good friend looks at me in the mirror.
"How can you ever have too much sex?" she wants to know.
"When your vagina hurts when you laugh, you're having too much sex."
The terrified look in her eyes amuses me, but I'm actually being serious about it. I press my lips tightly and nod sympathetically before I leave the restroom. On my way to find my girlfriend again, we pass Rachel, who's wearing a leather skirt and a white blouse. Some big, nerdy glasses makes her more strict than she actually is.
"You know, Rachel, you look like a teenage, S&M fetish-inspired, puppet. But I can't really say I hate it."
Quinn, who's standing behind me, laughs out loud and pats me on the back.
"What's going on?" Rachel asks without being too offended by what I just said.
"Britt and Santana are totally doing it, that's what's going on." Quinn replies bluntly.
But the brunette is confused and frowns. "What do you mean, they are doing it?"
Quinn slaps her stretched out hand against her fist and bends over to make herself more comprehensible: "Doing it. Have sex. Nailing each other. Humping each other. Doin' the nasty."
I turn around and throw an evil look: "That'll do, Quinn."
She's just bragging about her vocabulary now. When I look over to face Rachel, I can tell she's completely shocked. Her oversized mouth is wide open and I guess the little leprechauns living inside of it might finally escape now. I shrug and smile confidently. That look on her face is priceless, really.
I find my girlfriend talking to a random girl when we enter the main room. Adorable Brittany, totally unstable on her feet, chatting up with every girl that's throwing herself in front of her feet. I grab her by the arm and her face immediately lights up entirely.
"I told Quinn everything." I tell her.
The other girl leaves us alone. Brittany bends over because the music's too loud. But after a second, she catches up with what I just said. She doesn't respond, though, she just stares straight at my boobs. Granted, they are a little bit flamboyant in this top.
"Brittany, are you even listening to me?"
She looks up to smile apologetic. She's so cute, even when she's hammered.
"I'm sorry, your boobs are distracting me."
"You are terrible." I tell her as I release an exhausted, amused sigh.
"No, you are terrible, putting them in my face like that."
I chuckle and shake my head: "I'm not putting them in your face."
The look in her eyes changes when she bends over to whisper in my ear.
"Well, you should."
You little devil.