Fiiinally! An update! I'm sorry it's taken so long.
Please excuse any mistakes- I will probably re-edit in the morning but I wanted to get this out there.
Ch 10: Building Light
Santana was propelled awake by a sense of urgency. And it was the most curious feeling- to go from nothing at all to sitting bolt upright with a spinning head and pounding heart. She was slightly disorientated so she looked around her room, which was thinly lit and quiet. Her costume from the night before was on the floor and she looked at it for a prolonged moment, thinking how it seemed to belong to a time long ago- to a version of her that was as distant and impenetrable as photograph of a stranger. The feather had come off of her headband and she spotted it underneath her desk- the failed glue clumping to the stem in fat, white lumps. She looked hard at it and began to remember the night before.
After Santana had come back down to earth Brittany had stayed bent over her. They had breathed into one another's faces, exchanging air but no words. Brittany had stared at Santana, unblinking and her eyebrows hitched like something had puzzled her. Then she'd bent closer and given Santana the lightest, most sincere kiss. Santana had opened her eyes at the tenderness of it, and watched the light fan of Brittany's eyelashes as their lips moved together. When Brittany had tried to end the kiss, Santana hadn't let her. She had pulled her back, deeper.
Santana could tell almost to the minute what time she had woken up because she could hear the hollow thuds of the caretaker moving the wheelie bins across the courtyard. He did it every day at 7.15 a.m - which meant that Santana was up ridiculously early for a Saturday morning. She got out of bed and stood in the small strip of floor in her room, catching sight of her reflection in the mirror. She considered herself, thinking it was the first time in a while that she had really looked. She looked tired, a little hazy. But normal. It was a complete contrast to how she felt. She didn't feel normal at all. She felt like everything inside her had shifted and she didn't really know herself.
She passed a hand lightly over her upper arm, and watched as Goosebumps blanched across her skin. She turned around and looked back down at her bed, messed by sleep, and she pictured Brittany in her own bed, still asleep, with her hair spread over her pillow in infinite tangles and wisps and her breathing coming in soft, even puffs.
There had been a few moments the night before where Santana had thought Brittany had gone to sleep. She'd been so still and eased- her arms curling Santana close, her chin rested on the top of Santana's head. And Santana had lain amidst the warmth and the bliss and she'd tried to even her breathing and slow her pounding heart but her whole body had been left coursing from Brittany's touches.
When they had heard the matron's keys in the hallway, they had disentangled- quiet and efficient, and Santana had left Brittany stretched out in bed with her tank top riding up, her hair mussed and her lips swollen from kissing. She'd slipped out of Brittany's door and pretended she was on her way back from the bathroom- muttering a bumbled 'night' to the Miss Pillsbury as they crossed paths.
Santana had gone to beck to her own bed feeling every inch of her skin alive and buzzing, and in the morning light that buzzing was still there- dimmed slightly by sleep, but still coursing insistently through her. She turned back to the mirror and took a breath, raking her fingers through her hair and then left it and slipped into the quiet, sleep coated hallway towards Brittany's room.
Guessing that Brittany would still be asleep, Santana skipped knocking and eased Brittany's door open a crack.
Brittany's curtain was thrown back, the room was bathed in crisp, unflinching sunlight and the city outside was humming through her open window. Her bed was neatly made- every soft toy stacked close together against her pillow. Her school books, which were usually kept in a neat stack on one side of her desk were gone and the space where her laptop usually sat was empty.
Santana took this all in and felt her heart sink. Brittany had gone home for the weekend, without so much as a goodbye. There had been time the night before to mention it, so why hadn't she? The thought made Santana flush with embarrassment. Brittany shouldn't have to tell her where she was going. She didn't owe Santana anything. But that didn't change the fact that Santana felt somehow betrayed. She turned away from Brittany's room abruptly and headed back to her own. But she got there she was too restless and agitated to sleep. She sat on her bed, her stomach churning, staring at the floorboards between her she got up, dressed herself in sweats and went to breakfast earlier than she'd ever done on the weekend. She wasn't remotely hungry, but she needed coffee to align her thoughts more evenly.
She was surprised to find Rachel and Tina sitting at one of the top tables. They were both dressed in running gear, and their cheeks were tinged pink. Santana made herself a coffee at the machine and sat down at the opposite end of their table.
"I didn't even know humans were capable of running on Saturday mornings. I thought it was physically impossible," she said, eyeing them.
"Me too," Tina laughed, "but Rachel made me."
"Well I didn't want to go alone in case I got kidnapped by some homeless man still drunk from the night before," Rachel said defensively, a hand covering her mouth which was full of toast.
Santana raised her eyebrows and took a sip of her coffee. Rachel hastened to swallow.
"Did you have fun last night Santana?"
Not trusting herself to answer, Santana nodded.
Rachel leaned forwards, her eyebrows raised and then said in a loud whisper, "a little birdy told me that someone got some action last night."
Santana felt her mouthful of coffee shoot down her throat far too quickly for her to handle. She put down her mug and began spluttering as it scalded its way down. Rachel made a move to come and pat her on the back but Santana shook her head, giving one last hard cough for good measure and then gulped air down to calm herself. She had to wipe her eyes too- which had begun to leak.
"Went down the wrong way," she gasped. "I'm okay."
Rachel studied her carefully for a moment and then nodded. "Well, as I was saying, you'll never guess who got lucky last night."
"Who?" Santana asked. She tried to keep her voice casual but it came out harsh and rasped from the coughing.
"Your date!" Rachel exclaimed, clapping her hands with happiness and beaming from Santana to Tina and back again.
"My…" Santana drew a blank. "My date?"
"Kurt?" Tina prompted.
"Kurt? Oh. Oh!" Santana lifted her voice in surprise, "with Peter Pan boy?"
"Mmhmm," Rachel nodded vigorously, her lips pressed into a smile and her eyes shining. "Blaine."
"Wow," Santana muttered, nodding, "cool."
"I got a text late last night saying that they'd ended up talking on the bus ride home and then Blaine had come to visit him after lights out and well…" Rachel pursed her lips again and grinned.
"I hope he doesn't decide to tell any of the guys though," Tina said, chewing thoughtfully on her toast.
Santana and Rachel turned to look at her.
"Why not?" Rachel asked.
Tina swallowed. "Well I just can't see the boys being okay with it. I know I won't be the one to tell Mike, that's for sure."
Rachel bristled. "If I told Finn I'm sure he'd be fine with it."
"Would he though?" Tina asked, "I mean, don't get me wrong Rachel, all the guys are really accepting of Kurt. But like, how would you feel knowing two of your friends were going at it a couple of rooms down? When we're so confined like this it makes it worse, don't you think?"
Rachel paused to consider, while Santana sat still as a stone, trying to keep her features impassive. All she could think of was Brittany's skin on hers. Brittany's breath scattering over her face. Brittany inside her. At the time it hadn't even occurred to Santana that they were surrounded by their sleeping friends; Brittany had drawn all her focus.
Santana felt like she was radiating heat, and she dropped her eyes to the table top, too afraid to see if the other's had noticed. But Rachel, it seemed, was still too busy being offended.
"It's not like they were kissing in the hallway or in public or anything," she snapped, looking at Tina. "They kept it to Kurt's room so as far as I see it it's fine."
"So you'd be fine if you knew that two of your friends had been hooking up in the room right next door to you?" Tina shot back.
"What?...I...no…" Rachel spluttered, then she turned. "Santana, you see my point, don't you?"
The lie came amidst a series of actions- Santana took a large gulp of her coffee, jerked her chair back, stood up and said, "I'm with Tina on this. It's weird."
She turned away from Rachel's hurt expression and tried to walk calmly as possible from the dining room. When she got back to the dorm she sank on her bed, put her head in her hands and took several deep, shaky breaths. She didn't know how to feel about anything and Brittany being gone so suddenly created a black hole of confusion and doubt. Their last few moments before the night matron came down the dorm had seemed so calm and right but now Santana just felt hollow and slightly sick thinking about it.
If Brittany had wanted to talk to her wouldn't she have woken Santana up? Or left a note? Anything just so that Santana wasn't hanging in limbo for the whole weekend. Santana retrieved her phone from under her pillow but there were no messages. She fought the impulse to treat it violently and threw it back against her blankets. She looked hopelessly around her room and then flopped back on her bed, throwing an arm over her eyes and glaring at it. After a while she heard voices in the hallway and then her door was clanked open. Still glaring, Santana did not remove her arm to see who it was, waiting for them to speak instead. But she felt the end of her bed sink beofe she heard any voices, and she pulled her arms away and sat up, fleetingly imagining that Brittany had come back. But it was Mercedes, doe eyed with sleep and still dressed in her pyjamas. Santana frowned at her.
"Uh. Hi?"
"Rachel just invited herself to come with Sugar, Amy and I to town today," Mercedes huffed, digging the end of Santana's bed up so that she could wiggle under the covers.
"And that's my problem how?" Santana asked gruffly. Mercedes blinked at her.
"You can't expect me to go with them on my own."
"Yes I can, and I am."
Mercedes looked highly offended. "Everyone knows Amy and Sugar get all annoying when they're together. And I'm not being best friends with Rachel for the day. Plus, everyone else has gone home so I'm willing to take grumpy Santana over spending a day alone with them. Please?"
Santana eyed her. Then she said carefully, "ask Brittany, she'd go."
Mercedes shook her head. "She's gone home too! She left like really early this morning. I'm surprised you didn't get woken up by Rachel confronting her thinking she was an intruder."
"No," Santana said softly, "I didn't wake up."
Mercedes rolled her eyes. "Well I'm the one that should be grumpy then because it was right outside my door at like 6 in the morning."
"Why'd she leave so early?" Santana asked, trying to keep her voice casual once more.
"Cheerios practice," Mercedes said. "Her and Quinn and Emma all went early and Amy was the only one who came back here for the weekend."
"Oh." Santana nodded, her mind racing. It made sense, but it didn't take the sting away.
"Soo…" Mercedes raised her eyes, prompting Santana. "You'll come?"
Santana hesitated, her mind going to the History essay that she had due the next week. But she knew that it was probably no use trying to get it done when she felt like this- all highly strung and pitched like a storm. Fresh air would do her good. Distraction would do her good.
They decided to set off for town around 11 o'clock- which gave them, by the rules of the boarding house- until 3 o'clock to be out. When it was nearly time to leave, Santana threw on jeans and a hoodie- and pulled her hair up in a pony tail- hardly motivated to look good.
When Sugar came to tell her they were leaving she took one look at Santana and shook her head, clucking her tongue.
"You look homeless, Santana. You can't let yourself go completely just because you don't have a boyfriend. In fact, that should be more incentive to look good." She opened Santana's closet and stood back, her finger over her chin, calculating potential outfits. Santana looked down at herself, about to protest indignantly, when she noticed a stain across the front lettering of the sweater. She sighed and tugged it off just as Sugar unhooked a dress and a blazer from their hangers and held them out.
"Put these on and fix…. that," she gestured vaguely to Santana's face, "and then meet us in the foyer. We'll sign you out."
Santana rolled her eyes and tugged at the button on her jeans as Sugar slid her door closed.
When she was dressed and had put on makeup, she met the others in the foyer and even earned an approving nod from Sugar.
"Hot. And far less homeless," she said, grinning.
"Let's go everyone!" Rachel called, clapping her hands, rubbing them together and then gesturing to the door. Mercedes sidled up to Santana as they neared it and hooked their arms together.
"Why am I regretting this already?" She muttered.
They got through the first few hours of shopping without much of a hitch, in spite of Mercedes reservations. Santana brought herself some new shoes, while Sugar and Amy got matching Hello Kitty USB sticks. Rachel had scoffed at them, but then promptly spent half her weekly allowance on a pair of star shaped earrings. It was with great difficulty that Santana held back the opinion that they were the ugliest things wrought into sterling silver that she had ever seen. But she had lost it when the shop assistant had asked Rachel if she wanted the earrings gift wrapped- and then showed her the special kids wrapping paper. Rachel had left the shop in sullen silence, throwing haughty looks over her shoulder as Santana struggled to keep her laughter under control.
After the earrings incident, Rachel's mood took on a grumpy edge, and soon it became apparent that she and Mercedes had decidedly different ideas about where they were going to go next. They ended up loitering near the broken escalators, with Rachel prompting them to climb up three floors to the body lotion shop and Mercedes standing with her arms crossed and her face stony.
"I'm hungry," she said flatly.
Rachel huffed a sigh. "It'll take like ten minutes, Mercedes. Ten minutes, tops."
"I'm hungry," Mercedes repeated in the same dull voice. Beside Santana, Amy shifted uneasily.
"You should have had breakfast to keep you sustained until one o'clock, when we agreed we'd get lunch."
"Rachel, you wouldn't let us get breakfast!" Mercedes snapped. "You said we had to leave and had no time!"
"Well you should have gotten up…"
"No, Rachel," Mercedes held up a hand. "Just no."
"You just don't want to walk up the stairs," Rachel said accusingly.
"No," Mercedes said, her voice rising, "I just don't want to have to always do what you want to do."
"Sure," Rachel snorted in disbelief.
Up until then, Santana had only been half engaged in the argument, preferring to wander away to the nearest window display and act like she had no idea who they were. But the sight of Mercedes face, which had opened out into plain agitation, Santana veereed towards them, about to explain that she and Mercedes could get lunch and Amy and Sugar could accompany Rachel up the broken escalators to the lotion shop. She was interrupted, however, by Sugar, who began jabbing her finger excitedly in the opposite direction.
"Elevators! We'll just use the elevators and then be done super quick with the lotion and can get lunch."
Santana looked with the others over at Mercedes, gauging her reaction. She had her eyes narrowed, but gave in and huffed, walking stiffly away from them to the elevators without saying a word. The others, with Rachel half skipping in victory, followed behind her.
The elevator doors opened as soon as Rachel pressed the button, and she shot a look of triumph over her shoulder at the rest of them before stepping inside. Santana ended up closest to the panel of numbers and she hit 'three', illuminating the number in red. The elevator whirred to life.
"The reason I refused, Rachel," Mercedes began in a dignified voice as the doors slid shut, "is that I refuse to believe that one person needs 6 different skin care products for different parts of their body."
"I believe it would be the fifth time I've tried to explain their different uses," Rachel snapped, her arms crossed and her gaze directed resolutely at the metal doors in front of them.
"Yeah, and they're all stupid uses. I just don't get…"
"Hey!" Sugar raised her voice dreamily, in an obvious attempt to abate the argument. "Do you think they'll have those really pretty candles? They're like…gourmet."
Amy gasped. "Yes! And they have glass cases and a ribbon around them."
"Uhuh," Sugar nodded seriously. "They're all hand made in like…Italy or somewhere."
"Maybe I should get one for my room," Amy said, her eyes bright.
"Oh come on," Rachel scoffed, "We're not allowed flames in our rooms, you have to know that. Am I seriously the only one who has read the rule booklet?"
"Yes," Santana, Mercedes, Sugar and Amy said together. Rachel pressed her lips against one another and shook her head disapprovingly, but thankfully, didn't press the point.
Santana watched the panel above their heads as the floors flashed past. It was on floor two, but just as the number blinked away to be replaced by a three, the little red dots that made up the didgets scattered haphazardly across the screen and then died away. Santana only had a second to process this before the elevator shuddered and stopped, so that all they could hear was a echoey clanking in the shaft above them.
"Woah," Sugar raised her voice in panic. "Woah guys what's…."
"The elevator's stuck," Amy said in panic, pushing past Rachel to the front and trying to prise the doors open.
"Don't," Santana said, batting her hands away, "that won't do anything."
Sugar was fanning her face, breathing rapidly. "Guys….guys…what do we do?"
While Rachel said she would try and call someone, Santana looked at the panel of numbers in front of her and saw that the three button she had pressed earlier was no longer lit up red. Knowing deep down that it wouldn't work, she jabbed it. The button stayed grey.
"Try the button with the bell on it," Rachel said, relatively calmly. "I have no signal. Everyone check their phones."
Santana pressed the bell button three times, and heard a faint dinging sound somewhere far above them. They all lifted their heads.
"I can't believe this," Mercedes said. "I actually cannot believe I am going to die from lack of oxygen all because someone needs special cream to moisturise their creepily cracked heels!"
"Hey!" Rachel snapped her head down at Mercedes, "my Dads took me to doctor because of that and it's an actual condition."
"We should have known this would happen," Amy said darkly, tugging once more at the door before sinking onto the floor. "The escalators weren't working. It was an omen."
"But what if…" Sugar sank to the floor too, her eyes wide, "what if there's been like a zombie apocalypse?" Then she gasped and shoved her hand in her handbag, withdrawing her phone. "I have to text Britt and tell her to check for us. She totally thinks its gonna happen someday."
Santana sunk to the floor, watching numbly as Sugar tapped her bringht pink nails against the screen of her phone. Mercedes sunk down beside Santana, breathing heavily.
"I can't believe this," she kept repeating. "This cannot be happening."
"Is there a number to call?" Rachel was the only one still standing, and she leant over to the number panel, squashing Santana up against the side of the elevator.
"Get. Off." Santana pushed her and Rachel sat down with a huff.
"We need to stay calm," Rachel said. "Ring the alarm bell again."
"Three is enough. I'm pretty sure they'll realize one of their elevators isn't working," Santana reasoned. Rachel opened her mouth to protest, but Sugar let out a squeal of laughter that made them all jump and look around.
"Brittany just googled and she says there's been a city wide power outage where we are and she's certain we're under zombie attack."
"So…We just wait till the power comes back on?" Amy glanced anxiously around and then up at the ceiling. "How far away do you think we are from the third floor? We could like… climb our way up onto the top of the elevator and get to the next…"
"No." Mercedes said flatly.
"It's hot," Rachel said suddenly, clutching at her sweater and then ripping it over her head. "Is anyone else hot?"
"Are we using up all the air?" Amy clamped a hand to her mouth.
Santana huffed a sigh and rolled her eyes. "Honestly, you guys are pathetic. My Tio's apartment building elevator always broke down. One time, when I was nine, my cousin and I were there for like two hours," She shrugged. "We just have to wait. Malls are way more public than apartment buildings so I'm sure they'll be figuring it out."
"Jesus…What did you guys do for two hours?" Amy asked.
"We played truth or dare…and then…the word association game," Santana said, smiling faintly as she recalled it. "We didn't actually think it was such a big deal at the time. But then again…We weren't trapped with her," she jerked her head to Rachel who stuck out her tongue.
"Truth or dare!" Sugar said, looking up from her phone. "Britt wants to play too!"
Santana felt a prickle of jealousy, and she clenched her jaw as the others around her agreed to Sugar's suggestion.
"I'll go first," Mercedes said. "Rachel, I dare you to climb out of the elevator and get help."
Rachel shot her a scathing look. "You didn't ask me if I wanted truth or dare."
Mercedes sighed theatrically. "Fine. Truth or dare?"
"Truth," Rachel said at once.
"Have you seen and or touched Finn's penis?" Mercedes asked quick as a flash. Santana screwed her face up at the thought of it, and she wasn't alone. Amy mimed vomiting and Sugar shuddered violently.
Rachel was bright red and trying to keep up her composure. "Well I… I mean at Lauren's party…"
"Woah!" Mercedes held up a hand. "Actually I've decided that is something I don't wanna know."
Rachel snapped her mouth shut gratefully and then, when she'd recovered she eyed the group. "My turn… Truth or dare, Sugar."
Sugar was tapping on the screen of her phone and took a moment to look up. Santana tried to subtly crane her head to see if she was texting Brittany, but the screen was angled too far away. It turned out she didn't need to see, because Sugar looked up and said "Brittany wants a turn."
"She's not in the elevator," Rachel said shortly. "So, Sugar, truth or dare?"
Sugar looked up and stuck her tongue out the side of her mouth, rolling her eyes around the elevator for inspiration. She settled, after a moment, for truth.
"Okay…uh…." Rachel looked to the others, and Amy spoke up, giggling.
"Have you ever kissed a girl?"
Santana knew the question wasn't directed at her, but by the way her face burned and her stomach dropped, it might as well have been. She looked down at her lap, not wanting to see Sugar's reaction to the question, and feeling the elevator walls were clutching them all more tightly together.
The sound of Sugar's laughter filled the air, and then everyone was talking over one another, encouraging her to answer. Santana looked up to see Sugar pursing her lips, her eyes shining from all the attention. Then she slapped her hands hard up to her face and nodded.
Amy's shriek was so loud that Santana jumped. Mercedes slapped her knees, cackling loudly.
"I knew you would have!" Rachel called, pointing triumphantly at Sugar. "Out of all of us I knew you'd be the one to do it."
"What was it like?" Amy asked, wide eyed. Sugar giggled and drew her hands away from her face, shrugging coyly. "It was okay. Boys taste better though."
Everyone dissolved into giggles once more and Santana forced herself to follow along, though the laughter felt heavy in her throat. It was starting to get uncomfortably hot. She swiped her forehead with the back of her hand and reached up to hit the alarm bell button several more times.
"You okay Santana?" Rachel was looking at her in concern.
"Duh," Santana said, dropping her hand, "I just really don't want to hear anything more about Finn's penis or how likely it is that I will get hit on by Sugar."
"Ha, ha," Sugar said sarcastically. "It was one time, but I don't roll that way so don't get your hopes up everyone. Whose turn is it now?"
"Amy's, truth or dare?" Mercedes asked.
"Truth," Amy said instantly.
"Oh come on," Mercedes rolled her eyes, "Mix it up a little!"
"There is like nothing to dare someone when we're stuck in an elevator," Amy reasoned. "And I am not making out with any one of you."
Santana felt her breath hitch a little, but she looked expectantly at Mercedes as she thought of a question.
"Okay…." She said slowly, "are you…are you keeping a secret for anyone at the moment?"
"Oooooooooo," Sugar said, "good question."
Amy looked flustered with everyone's eyes on her, and Santana could see a tinge of red spreading across her cheeks and along her neck. "A few," she said, and laughed lightly.
Mercedes tilted her head. "Like what?"
"They wouldn't be secrets if I told you."
"She has a point," Sugar said airily.
"Well we'll just ask you on your next turn so you might as well tell us," Mercedes said. She was leaning forwards, pressing up into Santana in anticipation and it was making the heat worse. Santana pulled off her blazer and pushed Mercedes back down into the corner.
"And I thought Berry would be the one that was annoying in tiny spaces," She said. Mercedes rolled her eyes and ignored her, directing her gaze once again at Amy.
"I think…" she said slowly, "that I know the secret."
Amy shook her head.
"No one does."
"Aw come on," Sugar tugged on Amy's arm. "We're stuck and probably going to be killed when we get out anyway so make our last moments juicy with gossip!"
"It's about someone we all know, isn't it?" Mercedes persisted, her eyes fixed on Amy.
Santana could see Amy cracking under the pressure. She shifted back and forth on the floor and dropped her eyes.
"It's not some dumb secret. It's real and," She shrugged, "I don't know if I can tell you guys coz…"
"Everyone is going to know some time. I already figured it out by just being opposite her room."
Santana was about to interrupt them and tell them to start making sense when the knowledge of who lived opposite Mercedes hit her. Rachel caught on at the same time.
"Quinn," she said, ducking her head down to catch Amy's gaze. "It's about Quinn."
Amy looked up, her lips pressed together, and nodded. "You can't tell anyone," she looked at each one of them in turn. "Quinn would be so mad."
"What's going on?" Santana asked, feeling an odd sort of panic. Mercedes turned to look at her.
"Quinn thinks she could be pregnant."
Santana registered Amy's solemn nod and Rachel's theatrical gasp as though they were muffled by a wall. She blinked around the interior of the elevator, trying to latch onto something that helped her process the fact that she was stuck in a elevator with the words she'd just heard taking up all the oxygen. She fixed her eyes on the blank number panel, and tried to ignore the conversation continuing around her.
"How long has she known?"
"Is she sure?"
"Is it Pucks?"
"Will she keep it?"
Santana stared at the number panel for so long that it took her a moment to realise she was actually staring at an illuminated number 2, and just as she did, the elevator hummed to life again, gave one judder and began to ascend.
Everyone let out hoarse cheers, and stood up in a jumble of limbs and shopping bags. Santana leant heavily against the wall, light headed.
Mercedes ducked her head close, her eyes searching Santana's.
"You okay?"
Santana nodded, shrugged and then the elevator doors opened, revealing the bright light of the outside world, a rush of cool air, and several strained looking maintenance men.
Santana's sat on her bed with her phone after dinner, paused over Quinn's number. She'd gone to call it three times already, but she'd cut off each one before it could connect. She didn't know what she should say, or what she wanted to say. Every suggestion she muttered to herself seemed flat- full of false reassurance or faked anger. Nothing fit right for what she felt. She gave up, put her phone on her window sill and dropped her head in her hands, easing some of the pressure off her neck. In the warm darkness of her palms, Santana pressed her lips up against her own skin and wondered when everything was supposed to slow down and let her breathe.
Inadvertently, her thoughts went to Puck, and if he knew. She imagined he would be numbed by the news, just sit quietly, blinking tears. He was so loud normally, so boasting and cheeky but she imagined the news would stop him in his tracks. Suck all the life out of him.
Santana didn't even know how she felt about him. She felt sorry for him, now, that was for sure, but before that, when she knew he'd cheated on her, when she knew he'd lied, she had felt hardly anything. If she was really honest with herself, the pity she felt for him now was the strongest emotion she'd had connected to him in a long time. She felt so removed from him now. And Quinn.
Santana had called herself Quinn's best friend for a long time, but the words held together less like marks of closeness and more as a mask to hide the cracks.
A muffled banging of doors came from down the hall and Santana heard Rachel, Mercedes, Sugar and Emma making their way towards her room.
"We're going to watch a DVD in the Fruit room with some eleventh graders if you want to come!" Mercedes called.
"No thanks!" Santana replied flatly, laying backwards down on her bed. There were murmurings and then Rachel called out, "fine, suit yourself, but it's Rent!"
"Cool," Santana said unenthusiastically. Rachel's frustrated gush of breath was audible through her door, and Santana half smiled as she heard them continued down the hall.
When their noises had faded, Santana sat up and went to her desk, where her computer sat open. A blank word document that was supposed to be her history essay was lit brightly like an accusation. Santana turned to her textbook and opened it to a page she'd ear marked in class a few days earlier.
"Hitler and the Axis of Evil," she read in a tone of mock enthusiasm. The sound of her voice echoing alone in the dorm made her feel stupid, and she laughed lightly, sinking her head down until her forehead pressed against the page.
Her eye was right up close to a black and white photograph of Hilter and the Italian dictator, Mussolini, standing saluting in their uniforms. Santana liked history most of the time- it made her feel sort of calm, knowing that there were so many details she could immerse herself in. But then there were the times, like now, when it all weighed heavily against her and the thought of shifting through all the information to get to the meaning was exhausting. Tired of eye-balling Hitler's moustache, Santana closed her eyes and let her muscles relax into pre-sleep numbness.
Sounds in the hall way pulled Santana from her sleep- banging sounds, the clinking of zips, the swish of movement. She sat up in her chair and stretched, locating the time on the screen of her laptop. She'd slept for just over twenty minutes. People said it was the perfect length for a power nap, but Santana felt like all her senses were powered down and her thoughts were hardly coherent. She pushed back her chair and returned to her bed, then, deciding she was in it for the long haul, she got up, turned off her desk light so that her room was darkened. She unbuttoned her jeans, shimming them down to her ankles, stepping out of them and kicking them across her floor to the corner by her desk. Then she burrowed back under her covers in her sweater and underwear, shuffling right up against the wall and tugging her pillow over her head.
The noises that had woken her up had faded, but she heard the distinct clatter of a door up the hall being opened. Santana opened her eyes and stared at the wall right in front of her face. Mercedes, Sugar, Rachel and Amy were the only ones staying in and all their rooms were down the opposite end of the hall. The only rooms which were further past Santana's were Lauren's and Brittany's.
There was more movement, footsteps and then a knocking on Santana's door. Santana lifted her head up and turned around in bed, her mind racing.
"Uh, yeah it's open!" She called.
Her door opened and Santana kept her face impassive in the seconds after she registered Brittany's face.
Santana recalled suddenly that it took 15 muscles to smile. She wondered how many it took to feel an emotion. She wondered how hard her body was working to accommodate the one she was experiencing- this sort of panicked hope that felt like it was expanding in her chest. Prising apart her ribs.
Brittany was backlit by the hall way light and it shone stark and unromantic. But it was Brittany's face and her eyes were shining, her hair was loose and Santana felt her heart begin to quicken. Brittany took a step forwards, right up to the threshold of Santana's room and then stopped.
"Are you a zombie?" She whispered.
Santana shook her head, unwilling to smile. Brittany's own small smile faltered and she ducked her head in concern.
"Are you sick? Coz it's only like eight thirty, how come you're in bed?"
"I'm just tired."
"Okay." The confident, cheeriness in Brittany's voice wavered. Santana felt a twinge of guilt, but she couldn't bring herself to apologize.
Brittany stepped passed the door into Santana's room and lowered herself slowly onto the end of Santana's bed.
"Did you…did you get out of the elevator okay?" Brittany's voice upturned oddly at the end of the question, almost like a plea.
"I'm here, aren't I?"
Brittany frowned slightly, looked down at her lap and nodded. Santana looked at Brittany's face and took in the way the light struck upon her features so that the shadow of her nose was cast across her left cheek and one eyebrow was lit up golden.
"Sugar told me about Quinn. How Amy was truthed into telling the secret."
"Yep," Santana said.
"I was supposed to get the bus home tomorrow but I got an earlier one."
The abrupt change in topic threw Santana off momentarily. "Because of Quinn?" She asked, confused.
"What? No I just," Brittany shrugged and met Santana's eyes, "I had a funny feeling. And I need to know… Are we… are we still friends?"
It reminded Santana of a question you'd ask at elementary school and it was so childish that Santana wrestled briefly with a feeling of absurdity.
Santana let out a nervous laugh. "Yeah, sure we are."
She focused on the thumbtack ridden wall beside her. They were catching the light with their flat, brass heads – giving off the air of some sort of close up constellation of stars.
"Okay," Brittany said slowly. "I just wondered because I've never… I know what happened isn't what friends usually do."
Santana didn't reply. She concentrated on the thumbtacks, mentally organizing them into shapes. When she was a kid, Santana had had a skylight in her old bedroom and at night she had laid awake, mapping out constellations she knew, or making up ones of her own. She had considered it a good profession- constellation naming, but had been disappointed when her mother had explained that the ancient people had been the ones to find them, and named them thousands of years ago.
In hindsight, Santana was able to see the sense in this; those people with all their Gods and their beautiful words seemed to be the only ones fit to name the stars. And she didn't think anyone could come up in her world could come up with names like Altair, Cassiopeia, The Pleiades.
Santana remembered her nighttime ritual, and the way she used to chant the names of the constellations in her head- importing them from her special 'Explore the Universe' book that she'd been given by someone for her birthday. Santana could recall its front cover- an embossed picture of the earth- as round and blue as a balloon. She used think about how funny it was that everyone referred to the present as being 'new' and 'modern' when the earth was so old, and getting far older.
"It's not something friends do, I don't think." Brittany had again ventured into their silence again.
"So, we're not friends then." Santana said. Her tone had left no room for an answer, but she turned her eyes away from the wall to see Brittany react. Brittany blinked rapidly several times and shook her head, her face pinched in distress.
"I don't feel like just your friend."
Again, Santana didn't reply. The air in between them thickened and strung the seconds going by up on tightropes. Brittany reached one arm out across the room and clasped the edge of the door, rattling it sideways. Santana watched the light shift across Brittany's face and then disappear completely as the door bumped against its cradle and Brittany clicked the lock into place.
They were in the dark together and it made them both braver. Brittany shifted up the bed and Santana shifted down and they met in the middle- putting their arms around one another.
Santana breathed in Brittany's smell, felt the shift of her shoulder blades underneath her palms and wanted to stay that way forever. But then Brittany pulled away slightly angling her face down for a kiss and Santana felt her whole body strike up one solid beat of want. She caught Brittany's lips with hers and didn't care how she kissed, so long as she tasted Brittany, so long as that when she let her body fall backward against the bed, Brittany would follow.
Santana's head hit the pillow, with Brittany's hand behind it, and her weight pressing against her. Santana opened her mouth and took Brittany in, jarring her body upwards, needing to be as close as possible. Needing more, and not finding enough.
Brittany groaned mid kiss as Santana reached her tongue deeper, and they broke the kiss momentarily, panting into one another's faces.
"Not friends," Brittany murmured.
Santana shook her head, but she wasn't sure if Brittany had noticed, because they were kissing again.
