Author's Note #1: Hey guys, I know it's been a long time, but I've had a lot going on. I have a lot of personal issues to deal with at home, I'm working on looking for a second or full time job, I'm dropping out of college, and starting to work on getting fit again. I'm dealing with a lot on my plate at the moment, but I need you guys to continue to be patient with me. This isn't a huge update, but I was told not to throw it in a year later, which was a great suggestion by Arie. I incorporated as much as I could without being too over the top. You'll see what I mean in a few. There will be an Author's Note at the end of this and I'll explain more about what's going to happen within this story from now on. So hopefully you guys enjoy this chapter.

Chapter Twelve.

I couldn't go to work after I left Caroline's office. I knew she was upset, but I'm glad she didn't give up on me in a way. I mean maybe what happened between Santana and I was a blessing in disguise. Maybe we just weren't meant to be and that Caroline is possibly the person I'm meant for; at least that's what I'm trying to tell myself.

I find myself walking on Broadway. It's like my feet led me there on their own accord because I don't remember deciding on stopping into the theater. I hear music as I step in and frantic tapping motions on the hard flooring of the stage. I pull the door open and see the bright lights with several dancers pushing through a routine. I lean against the doorway as I spot my best friend do a one handed cartwheel. I always envied how easy it was for her to do that move, but she's always been a better dancer than me. It always made me question why she never got Captain and I did.

"Alright very well done ladies! Take a break," the music has stopped abruptly and the choreographer yells up at the stage. Each dancer separates and I see Brittany immediately hug some of her other friends. I smile at how carefree and happy she looks. She always said that dancing was a passion of hers and that one day she would be dancing for the rest of her life, thus far she's succeeded.

She hops off the stage and I didn't even realize she saw me in the back until she enveloped me in a hug. "Hey—sorry I'm really sweaty," she breaths out a laugh and I return a smile as best as I can. She has a towel in her hand, dabbing her wet skin as much as she can. "What's up? You never come here," she says and I never realized how much that stings until now.

I've never once visited her during rehearsals. I've seen her on Broadway—premiere to be exact, but never seen the work she stresses so hard to make perfect until now and I know it's because of my own selfish needs. Am I that horrible of a person?

"Uhm—it's nothing. I kind of just started walking and didn't stop," I shrug and it's a stupid answer because I know she'll see right through it easily. She eyes me concerned and I know she's already figured it out. She reaches out and runs her thumb under my left eye—when I started crying again, I don't know, but she knew I wasn't okay.

"Britt? When I told you about Caroline how did you really feel about it?" I finally ask, sitting down in one of the chairs. She sits down next to me and puts her feet up on the seat in front, showing off her long legs in her short shorts and multi colored sneakers. She dabs her face again and sighs deeply.

"Honestly—," she starts and I turn my attention fully to her face, watching it contort to confusion. "I was confused because I knew how much you loved Santana. I just couldn't wrap my head around how you could go from loving this girl so much to dating someone else, but it wasn't my business to ask otherwise because you're my best friend and whatever reasons you had to not be with her was your own. I just want you to be happy with whoever you're with," she explains and I look down at my hands in my lap, nodding frantically as if she was repeating them into my ear at that moment.

It wasn't enough for me to hear that answer because she's right. I let my own personal thoughts take over my will to be happy, and now here I sit next to Brittany, wondering what I've done to deserve one woman to not give up on me, and another to betray me. The worst part of it all is that I still love the one that betrayed me, while the other; as fantastic as she is, is left helplessly watching me cry over someone else. How is that fair to her?

"I slept with Santana," I look up at Brittany's blue eyes, which have now widened at the confession. She looks around in disbelief, but at the same time this was my track record. I did cheat on my high school boyfriend with his best friend. Granted I was a little tipsy, so my actions were a little more carefree; however, that doesn't explain my actions this time around because I wasn't under the influence of anything; just anger and adrenaline.

"I know it was wrong, but how can something so wrong feel so right all at the same time?" I ask her because I really needed my best friend right now. She places her feet back down and turns towards me. She grabs my hands and gives them a small squeeze.

"I'm not the best at words, you know this, but I can't answer why we do the things we do. You love Santana, we've known this for a while now, but you're with Caroline and I guess that's where your actions become a little forbidden. You're not in love with Caroline though, so if Santana loves you then what's stopping you from getting the girl you love?" She asks and I look down, pain instantly washing through my entire body becoming easily visible on my face. I guess that's where karma bites me in the ass, right?

"She doesn't love me," I whisper, fresh tears forming and falling almost instantly. I feel her arms wrap around me as I begin to full on sob in the theater. I'm a mess, maybe even a wreck, and I've never had one person have this much of an effect on me. She's broken me—dismantled me, and all I can do is weep.

Brittany doesn't say anything though. She just holds me and even when her break was up, she still held me because in some way I was more important to her than memorizing her dance routine. She took me home after a few minutes of me sobbing into her embrace; she showered in my bathroom after placing me in bed, came out and crawled in with me. She held me until I fell asleep.

That's why you're my best friend.

x.

I woke the next morning with a pounding in my head and I was sure I looked like Hell; maybe even worse. The other side of my bed was empty, but it smelt like fresh berries, which is normal for how Brittany smells, and a hint of coffee. I smiled warmly at the aroma that filled my nostrils, before letting that great feeling of a nice stretch fill my entire body. I groan as my muscles and bones crack in all the right places, before getting out of bed.

I advance down the hall to the kitchen to see Brittany over the stove, coffee in my favorite mug, water and two pills I imagine are Advil.

"Mmm," I moan carelessly, before taking the large white pills in my hand, gulping down a large amount of water to follow them down my throat. It cools instantly the burning and dryness that fills it.

I instantly grab Brittany's attention and she smiles softly at my presences. She doesn't say anything and I'm positive she is keeping it silent mostly because she doesn't know what to say. She just continues to cook after acknowledging me and all I can do is sit on the barstool closest to the kitchen, sipping at my coffee as I wait for the food.

The fact that I've ended up here is a bit surreal. I go from falling in love with a girl I met by chance on a subway, and by hiding those feelings I've created an even bigger conflict because I got someone who is amazing; someone I could potentially fall in love with in the future involved. How is that fair? I not only toyed with someone else's emotions, but I've had mine toyed with back. I guess it really is karma. Even with that, I feel like I don't deserve it, yet at the same time I do.

I deserve as much happiness as the rest of the world. I deserve to have love. Life can be a beautiful and rewarding experience, so why hasn't the girl of my dreams swept me off my feet yet? And yet, maybe they already have. Even though, Santana claims she doesn't love me; which I'll accept whichever way she wants to throw it at me, I still feel like my heart is meant for her. I want to try and work things out with Caroline too because Santana and I aren't ever going to see each other again. It's like when you have your first love, how they'll always remain special and hold a place in your heart; that's how Santana will always be, even if we aren't together. I can accept that. What I can't accept though, is missing out on someone who actually does want me in their lives and is willing to love me unconditionally. Who knows though, maybe Caroline isn't the one for me, but the least I could do is try.

Brittany places the breakfast she's made on plates and pushes one over to me. I'm ready to dig in when I see how blackened the bacon is and how undercooked the eggs are. I grimace at the plate, recalling all the other times I've stared at Brittany's cooking. She tries, I'll give her that, but she certainly is no Bobby Flay.

"I know I suck," I make eye contact with her and she is smirking at me with her arms crossed. "I actually got Dunkin Donuts earlier. My cooking was to hopefully make you smile," she adds and I start chuckling as she tosses the bag on the counter.

"Well thank you. It worked," I smile and she shakes her head. At least I never had to tell her that her cooking sucked ass since apparently she already knew. This is why I love my best friend.

"I know yesterday was really rough for you and you know I hate seeing you sad, so I do anything to make you smile," she explains and I tear up slightly at her admission. Why we've never dated, I'll never know, but she really is an amazing person to have in my life. Of course, I remember that I look at Brittany like my sister; my better half and well how awkward would that be to date your sister?

"So what are you going to do?" She asks biting into her doughnut. I shrug to her, even though it's pretty clear I've made up my mind on what I'm going to do, but plans can change. I see that clearer every day.

"Take each day one day at a time and hope for the best,"

x.

Yes take each day one at a time, and no doubt I hoped for the best, but not even a month after I removed Santana from my life, I needed her back in it. I didn't care that she tore my heart a part, I mean sure it stung like a deep wound, but I wanted her at least in my life. I promised Caroline we wouldn't speak again and thus far I've kept true to that statement, but more and more I find myself thinking about the girl I loved more and more each day. I'd be at work and a certain thought would just come into my senses.

Caroline and I were doing better though. We've been on a few dates since our conversation, but never took the route of being physically intimate, aside from the occasional kiss. It's okay though, I'm not pressuring her or anything and I'm in no way misunderstanding why she isn't all over me like a panther like before. I broke her trust and it will take me awhile to gain it back. She's keeping me at a brief distance, because who better to know about breaking the boundaries of your body than I? It's uncharted territory; that once you break through it—you're vulnerable.

I'm walking down to the subway and subconsciously I look around. I've been doing this for quite some time that it's become almost natural to look for her. I've done this even when she was in my life, but I find myself doing it every time I go down there and even when I don't need to be, I still look just to see.

But I never see her.

And maybe that's how it's supposed to be, but I can't bring myself to believe this. So I get on an unusual, yet still very similar route. I sit down and patiently fiddle with my fingers. I'm nervous to even just get a glimpse of her. Is she okay? Is she happy without me even just her friend? Is she dating someone, and if so what is she like?

I scan the bridge that overlooks Brooklyn. It's as dirty as I remember, but she's always been happy living in here. Maybe I'm just not used to that kind of life. I've lived on a farm my entire life and moving to New York City alone was a stretch.

As the doors open, I feel the gusts of wind overpower my will to think. It should be snowing soon and knowing Santana, she would've wanted me to go home for the holidays, so I planned to and I'm thinking of bringing Caroline with me. I've told my parents about her and needless to say they were shocked when I told them about her and not a certain brunette instead; it is what it is though; they'll just have to get used to it like I have to.

I walk down the street to the brick apartments that contain Santana's place. I walk up the three flights of stairs and turn the corner to 16C. The paint on the green door has been chipped tremendously, but that's always been normal. I take a deep breath to calm my stomach and gulp, before racking my knuckles against the wood.

I stand there for a moment, taking in deep breaths to prevent myself from shaking. I anticipate her arrival to the door, but nothing comes. I scrunch my brows together; does she hate me for cutting her off?

I knock again and continue my waiting game, but again, nothing comes. I sigh in defeat and I know for a fact that she should be home by now. It's almost six and her classes usually last till the early afternoon. She has to be in there, unless she really did find someone else in such a short time.

When I started crying I'll never know, but the tears slowly made their way down my cheeks before I could even react. I sniffle and wipe my covered sleeve against my skin.

"She's not home," I look up and see Santana's neighbor. He's a strong looking guy and from the sounds of it Italian. He is unlocking his door and pushing it open, before the recognition kicks into my mindset.

"Um…do you know where I can find her?" I ask and he looks up. He has piercing green eyes and dark slick hair, with a duffle bag on his shoulder, but definitely not a Jersey Shore type. He'd probably kill them in seconds.

"She went on some vacation or somethin'. I saw her with her suitcases, but that was like a week ago," he shrugs and I look down, nodding slowly.

"Was—was she alone?" I ask almost too quietly to the point where I thought he may not even hear me, but he did. He sighed deeply and tossed his bag into the open door of his apartment. He looked over at me and shrugged, like he didn't know.

"Yeah she was alone," he finally said and I looked up to meet his gaze. He looked like he knew our entire history and maybe he did with the times I came over here till the last time I was here. The walls can't be that thick, and I blush at the thought of him possibly hearing us; me.

"Thanks," I say quietly, before turning and walking down the stairs. I can feel his eyes following me as I go, but not in the way that most people would think. He may be a big guy and a possible meathead, but his lingering gaze was most definitely out of concern. He had to know something about our situation; no neighbor that's heard the talking and yelling, saw the visiting, and is here now, won't have some indication of what's going on in their neighbor's life.

I step back out into the street and I sigh heavily. If she's gone, then there's no point in me even trying to look for her. She's on vacation; I should just let her be.

I walk back to towards the subway, when I stop to glance at the coffee shop. I smile softly—our coffee shop. It has so many good memories there, yet so many bad ones. I miss walking up there and seeing her waiting for me with a nice warm hug to give me. I miss our crazy conversations about work, family, and friends. I just miss being silly with her; she makes me feel like a kid again and I love having a best friend like that. Brittany made me feel like a kid too, but it was a different kind of feeling. With Santana I felt like I was a child, but with Brittany I felt like a high schooler or like I was in my rebellious years of college.

My feet took me across the street though and I was in the door, hearing that little bell over it. I scan the place and my memories of being here flooded back. I walk up to the barista, and instantly see it's the same student from the first time we were here.

"What can I get for you?" She smiles, then lets it falter slightly. "Wait you look familiar," she points to me and to think I thought I had an unforgettable face.

"Yeah I came in here with your Professor all the time," I said, knowing she knew her name. She had to since she had a huge crush on Santana anyway.

"Oh right! With Professor Lopez!" and there it is. "Yeah I thought you guys were totally banging each other," my eyes widen at her words and I clear my throat of the uncomfortable nature of this conversation.

"Yeah I'm so upset she quit after our semester was done," I look at her questionably. Wait, she quit her job? She's on vacation? Where the hell did she go?

"She quit?" I ask softly and her student, Ellie stares at me in confusion.

"I assumed you already knew, but yeah, she went on some retreat thing for sick kids in Costa Rica. She always talked about going somewhere like that to us in class, but never had the means to, but one day she just told us she was leaving right before finals and that our review will be made for us, but someone else will administer our final," she explains and I look at her in disbelief.

Santana told her students about her wanting to do charity work, but never me. We were extremely close, why wouldn't she tell me about this? My head starts to hurt and I ask her for my usual, wanting to end this conversation.

When I get my coffee, I step out and head to the subway. My head is spinning with the knowledge I just learned today. Santana's really gone and I have no way of even locating her. I have no idea when she'll be back so I can apologize for being an asshole.

Is this really the end of our friendship? Is this really the end of seeing her in my life? My heart hurts to think of never seeing her again. I can try again in a month, but then what? She may still be gone by then and no one knows when she'll be back since she's always been incredibly secretive. I doubt even her mother knows how long she'll be out of the country for.

I hate this. I wish I didn't react the way I did. I wish we never slept together. I wish my feelings for he never existed.

And yet what an awful bunch of lies those are.

End of Part I

Author's Note #2: So that's the end of Part I. I didn't intentionally plan on making this two parts, but if I'm going to jump it a year from now, then I have to separate it to make it more neat, but also not look crazy. I know this chapter lacked Santana heavily and that's the point. This story is in Quinn's POV. so if Quinn doesn't see her, neither do you guys. This chapter was mainly about her and Brittany, which I wanted to touch more base on. Arie threw that suggestion at me and I couldn't agree more. There isn't enough Brittany in this story for her to be considered Quinn's best friend, so they needed more time together.

Santana is gone though. She'll obviously be in Part II, but Quinn won't officially see her again till a year later. She just gives up trying to find her because she has no resources, but keep reading to see if those feelings resurface or not.

Also thank you guys so much for the reviews, they are well appreciated. To answer some of your questions, obviously the story is NOT DONE! I would have told you guys if it was, don't worry I'll give you a heads up when it's nearing its end. I may even be planning to publish this into a book, so if you guys are interested when it's completed, let me know and I'll give you all the details when I figure it out more thoroughly.

Till then keep reviewing, keep reading, and if you have any questions, comments or concerns, leave a message on Tumblr. I don't check my messages on Fanfiction that much, so best place to reach me is Tumblr.

I have another one now dedicated strictly to fitness, so if you guys are even remotely interested in it, then follow it. Both links will be below. So till next time my readers. :)

Personal: lacksubstance. tumblr . com

Fitblr: bestowingreatness. tumblr . com