A/N: Thanks to JJ how somehow manages to find time to edit AND write an amazing Unholy Trinity analysis when her semester is picking up. I think she may have discovered a way to fully function intellectually while sleeping because I can't think of any other explanation.

Chapter 14: Hollow

So here's what you missed on Dandelion: Bar!Britt and Santana had some pretty awesome sex - with eye contact! - after talking about Santana's closet issues, but when Britt went home the next morning, Justine harshed her buzz by asking too many questions about how Britt feels about dating someone fully in the closet, which Britt doesn't want to think about now because she'd rather focus on their upcoming cupcake date. Lab!Britt was completely freaked out by learning that Santana had outed her movie-star ex Callie Wilson and dismissed Justine's hypothesis that Britt was mostly afraid of getting close to someone before going to bed super mad at everyone. Violet woke up to an unintentionally sexy Shy!Santana making pancakes in her kitchen and they chatted about Isaiah's proposal for a bit before Britt snuck a peek at Santana's legs and freaked Santana out, causing her to leave in a hurry. And that's what you missed!

I went to Santana's house to pick her up for our cupcake convention date. I was so happy we were going to do something besides hang out in each other's apartments. I was pretty excited about the cupcakes too, and I hoped that we'd have sex afterwards.

Not that our relationship was all about sex. It wasn't. That was just one of the most fun parts at the moment. The fact that we could hardly stand to be in the same room without wanting to rip each other's clothes off was... well, awesome.

Not that we never had good conversations. We did. I mean, we'd talked about her not being out, and I'd told her some of the fun stuff from the bar. And some of the not fun stuff from the bar. Some of the awful stuff from the bar.

The point is, we talked too. It wasn't just physical. I really liked her.

Santana looked nervous when she opened the door to meet me. When she gets nervous, she has a hard time making eye contact and her words are clipped and rushed. When I see her acting like that, I try to be extra calm and light, and usually after a while she calms down. This time I had promised to be on my best not-gay behavior, so hopefully that would relax her too.

We chatted a little on the way to Fort Mason. Truthfully, we'd been spending so much time together, there wasn't a lot to talk about besides what we'd eaten and who we'd seen since we last saw each other. That was fine. She turned the radio on, and we talked about music.

But all the while, Justine's questions about whether or not Santana would come out and why she was so afraid to do so were nagging at me. I really wanted to ask Santana why she was so scared and where she saw herself in five years. I wondered how many girls she'd dated. I assumed she'd slept with her fair share, but I wasn't sure about relationships.

But I figured that was a conversation for another day. I had so many things I wanted to ask her, but my desire to show her we could have low-key, covert dates prevailed. We could always talk about serious things later when we were in bed together and I'd helped work out her nerves with at least one orgasm.

Parking was tricky, but we managed to find something that wasn't too far from the entrance to the converted hangar. We waited in line with our tickets for only a few minutes before we were admitted. Inside, the dome of the hanger stretched above dozens of tables decked in colorful tablecloths. Tall tiers of cupcakes sprung up like Christmas trees before us and people jostled and laughed and took sips of wine between snatching quartered cupcakes from displays, faces animated or studious as they chewed and licked their fingers. It was noisy and smelled like spun sugar.

Santana glanced toward the center tables that were selling wine and I figured she'd want a glass to help her nerves.

"Want a glass of wine?" I offered with a perky smile.

"Sure."

"Let me grab a couple. Want to wait here for our first samples?" I asked, pointing to a line that led to the first table of cupcakes.

Santana nodded and I went over to the wine booth, paying for two plastic cups of overpriced wine, bringing one back to Santana. When I handed her cup to her, she gave me a fleeting, flirtatious and grateful smile that assured me she actually wanted to be here with me. I hadn't been sure, to be honest. She was so stiff and terse, I wondered if she'd changed her mind. But that smile was a reminder that this was foreign territory to her.

And to be honest, it was to me too. I'd dated Maggie for a few months in college, but dating in college is different than as an adult. I still don't really feel like an adult, but I'm not in college anymore. Asking Santana to come "hang out in my room" wouldn't constitute a date like it did in college. There had to be more effort that went into it.

I figured I should probably let Santana know that I was winging it just as much as she was. So although up until that point, I had been strict with myself about keeping a little extra distance between our bodies, I sidled up to her for a moment, grateful that straight girls are so affectionate with each other.

"I'm pretty new to this too," I murmured, attempting to look like I was commenting on a particularly glamorous cupcake display.

I felt Santana stiffen next to me and pulled away a few inches, worried I'd spooked her.

"To what?" Santana asked.

"To... cupcake conventions," I said with a wink. I didn't want to say "dating a girl" in public where someone could hear, causing Santana to spin into a panic.

Santana frowned. "Oh," she said, clearly not understanding my euphemism.

I was about to attempt to elaborate about how I'd loved cupcakes since I was little but also lollipops and had mostly committed to lollipops despite how delicious cupcakes were, but I didn't get a chance, because at that moment, Justine appeared.

"Hey guys!" she said, greeting us animatedly. "How long have you been here?"

Santana turned to Justine, seeming a bit startled. "Just a few minutes."

"Are you having fun?" Justine asked, looking back and forth between us, rubbing her hands together. "I hear the cupcakes are pretty awesome."

It was obvious from her exaggerated enthusiasm that she wasn't talking about cupcakes.

"Uh, yeah," Santana said.

Avery appeared behind Justine's shoulder and stepped forward to introduce himself to Santana.

"You must be Santana," he said, extending his hand. "I'm Avery. I belong to this one," he said with a grin, pointing to Justine. "Nice to finally meet you. I've heard all about you."

"Only good things," Justine said, putting her hand on Santana's arm to assure her.

"Oh..." Santana said, looking nervous again.

"We'll let you two grab your goodies," Justine said with a wave of her hand. She turned to Avery, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Sweetie, you want some wine?"

Avery nodded. "Nice meeting you," he said, extending his hand again. "I'm sure I'll see you again soon."

Santana gave a stiff nod as she took a sip of her wine.

Once Avery and Justine had moved toward the wine, Santana turned away from me to face another cupcake display. I sensed something was wrong, but I didn't know what it was. Was it being around a straight couple? The same old nerves? Had she seen someone she knew?

I decided to make pleasant conversation to take her mind off whatever was making her anxious. Growing up with my high-strung sister, I was pretty good at recognizing nerves and soothing them. Talking about trivial things with Kimi usually calmed her down. So I tried that with Santana.

"Do you think any of the people who own these cupcakeries wanted to make baked goods for a living as little girls and boys?" I asked. "Like, did they dream of growing up to make sugary goodness? I may have entertained the idea at some point, but it was never as elaborate as participating in a cupcake convention like this. What about you? Did you ever dream of owning a bakery?"

"No."

The word was stiff and anxious.

"Well I guess that's good. The city only has room for so many cupcake shops."

Santana reached the front of the line and picked up her sample, not even waiting for me as she turned away, heading for the next table as she bit off part of her sample.

"How is it?" I asked, anxious that my usual tactics weren't working.

"Good," Santana mumbled through her bite. "I like the orange zest in the frosting."

Eager to have something else to talk about, I put my sample in my mouth. When the zest hit me, I raised my eyebrows in pleasant surprise.

"Wow, that is good."

Santana looked around, distracted. I was about to cave and ask if something was wrong when she turned to me, a serious expression on her face as she leaned close to me and hissed, "Does Justine know?"

"About what?"

"About… us."

I felt myself bottleneck with guilt when I realized that I had talked to Justine about Santana on many occasions, not realizing I was outing her. I wanted to be honest, but I knew Santana wasn't going to like the answer. "Yeah. She knows."

"And Avery?"

"I mean… she might have told him. But I didn't mean to gossip or anything."

Santana continued surveying the busy festival around us. "How much does she know?"

"A little," I said, fibbing. "But she knows not to go yapping to anyone. She's trustworthy. I promise."

Santana gave a distracted nod.

"And she's cool with it?"

"Totally."

Santana seemed to relax a bit, though she still didn't meet my eyes.

Curious if Santana had really meant what she said about no one knowing besides the girls she'd been with, I asked a delicate question.

"Do you have anyone you talk to about it?"

"Naw," Santana said, brushing the question off. "I'm fine."

And though I was pretty sure Santana was uncomfortable with Justine and Avery knowing, I decided that if she was brushing it off at the moment, I would let it go until it came up again.

But I kept a close eye on Santana's nerves as we meandered around the festival and tried samples. We tasted a few atrocious attempts at savory cupcakes and agreed that sweet was always best and that chocolate should always be paired with a bit of sea salt.

Once we'd seen most of what was inside the building, I gave Santana a smile and tilted my head toward the exit. She seemed to exhale in relief, despite the fact that I hadn't so much as touched her the whole afternoon. I was being very careful not to push her into anything. There was no way that anyone at the exhibition had known we were more than friends based on our body language. Even though I was drawn to her as forcefully as I'd even been drawn to anyone, her comfort came first, and I had been a true gentlewoman.

Once we were outside, I asked if she wanted to walk along the pier. It was a nice day and the water was a beautiful gray-blue. But she shook her head, eyes darting around to remember where we'd parked.

So I tucked my hands into my pockets, smiling to reassure her. I wanted to hold her hand more than anything. But I couldn't, so I closed my fists really hard and told myself to be patient.

All the questions Justine had brought up were burning now. Was I going to be able to date Santana in secret in the long-term? Would it cause problems for us, no matter how much we cared for each other? And what would I say if someone asked if I was single?

What would she say?

My anxiety spiked and I tried to push away all the discomfort that was sitting heavily on me. I thought of the good things, the reasons I liked Santana, the reasons that were good enough to justify the accommodations that had to be made.

There was a part of me that actually liked being with Santana in secret. It made our relationship feel precious, bordering on sacred. She had a way of gazing into my eyes when we were naked together that made me feel like she knew everything inside me and loved everything she saw. It was the most intense thing I'd ever felt with another person. That gaze meant everything to me, because it stood in place of the words I suspected she was too scared to say.

But the memory of that gaze didn't make my hands any warmer.

x

I woke up, startled by the harsh rattle of my phone against the wood of my desk. Usually I placed my phone on a magazine or a rubber band or something to make sure the vibration wasn't loud enough to wake me, but in my anger last night, I'd been careless. The adrenaline of being jolted awake paired with the chilly air in the room made me shiver as I reached for my phone to silence it. I preemptively prepared myself to see Santana's picture on the contact, assuming she'd claim she was worried that I hadn't replied to her text the night before. I wasn't ready to talk to her yet though. Didn't she get that? I thought I'd made it clear by the way I'd left her car.

I took a breath, steeling myself, but was surprised to see Kimi's contact photo on the screen instead. What was she doing calling me so early?

Prodded by sisterly guilt, I answered the call, not bothering to mask the coarseness of my sleep voice.

"Hello?"

I don't know why people always pretend not to know who it is anymore. With smart phones, we know who is calling most of the time.

"Morning!" Kimi chirped.

"Morning," I grumbled.

"Did I wake you up?" she asked.

I wasn't convinced she was unaware. She knew we had a three hour time difference.

"Sorry, I'm on my second coffee break and was thinking we hadn't talked in awhile. I didn't realize you slept in so late.

"It's seven thirty," I frowned.

"And you work at nine, right?" Kimi said.

"Yeah, so I don't have to be up for another half hour," I whined.

"Oh... well, sorry," Kimi said. "Want me to call back later?"

Figuring I was already awake and knowing I wouldn't be able to complete a whole sleep cycle between now and when my alarm was scheduled to go off, I sat up, feeling my muscles groan as I did.

"It's fine," I said, throwing in a dramatic yawn. "We can talk now."

"Okay!" Kimi said. "Well John and I were thinking of coming to visit sometime soon. Would you be up for a visit from your sister and her fiancé?"

"Of course. I mean, our apartment can't really accommodate two more people, but - wait, did you say fiancé?" I asked, suddenly alert.

"Yes!" Kimi shrieked. "He proposed last night!"

I felt my my heart speed up in excitement. I was so happy for Kimi. I know she loves John even if he is as interesting as watching paint dry. I don't have to marry him, so I was happy that Kimi was happy. I really, honestly was.

"Congratulations!" I cheered. "Oh, Kimi, I'm so happy for you!"

"Thanks!" she said, her voice squeaking with excitement. "I'm so happy. So happy."

"Aw, Kimi..." I said, picturing the way her face lifted from its usual serious expression into a girlish smile when she was excited. I'd seen that look only a few times, but I knew she was wearing it now. "Do mom and dad know?" I asked.

"Not yet," she said. "I wanted to tell you first. I know we're not as close as we were when we were little, but... I don't know, it just seemed like something I should tell my sister first," she said. She sounded almost sheepish, as though she did wish we were closer.

"I'm honored," I said, smiling. Kimi and I never argued or fought. There was just a weird divide between us most of the time. But now I didn't feel it so much. I felt like we had a chance at being closer than we used to be. "Mom and dad will be so happy and proud," I assured her. "They love John."

"I hope so," Kimi said.

There was a brief pause and I felt obligated to prolong Kimi's happiness. "How did he ask you?"

"Well," Kimi said, giddiness seeping into her voice, "We were on our way home from getting some cheesecake and champagne after seeing Forever Tango. We had to go through Times Square, which I usually hate because it's so gross and crowded, but it was late enough that all the tourists were gone and it felt peaceful. Well, as peaceful as Times Square can be. We stopped and sat at one of those little tables on the sidewalk and just looked around. It's not such a bad place when all the tourists and barkers are gone. We talked about the last five years together and how our relationship had grown and matured. It was just a sweet, simple conversation. It was a bit chilly, and I must have shivered, because John offered me his coat. Isn't that sweet? After five years he still does that. Anyway, I wrapped the jacket around me and said something silly about how I liked wearing his coat. And then he smiled and reached into his pocket and asked if I'd consider wearing something else of his for the rest of my life. And he pulled out the ring..."

At that Kimi's voice pinched and I could tell she was starting to cry happy tears. That was weird because I couldn't recall her ever crying happy tears. While it was a bit disconcerting, it confirmed to me that there really was no one else in the world that Kimi wanted to marry. She was happier than I'd ever heard her be.

And part of me was jealous of that.

"It's the most beautiful ring," Kimi went on. "Exactly the cut and setting I wanted."

"How did he know?" I asked, confused. Surely John hadn't been able to guess.

"I told him a while ago," Kimi said.

"You told him?" I said, frowning. Wouldn't that kind of spoil the surprise?

"Of course," Kimi said. "He and I talk about everything. That's what intimacy is. I knew he was going to propose. I just didn't know when or how. But, gosh, Britt, it was still so magical. It was perfect."

I felt suddenly like my whole concept of what an adult relationship was supposed to be changed. Kimi was suggesting that there was no mystery or allure between her and John, and yet their relationship was still magical and romantic beyond her wildest dreams because of how close they were. It seemed an odd juxtaposition at first, but my sister had a low tolerance for bullshit, so I didn't second-guess her. She really did have everything she wanted.

"I'm so happy for you," I said.

"Will you be a bridesmaid?" she asked, sounding hopeful.

"Of course," I said. I knew her best friend Victoria would be her maid of honor, but I was glad she'd asked me to be in the wedding party. Maybe now that we were adults it was time to get closer to her. It seemed to me, all of the sudden, that she knew how to be closer to people than I did.

"I don't want to take up your whole morning bragging about John, though," she said. "How are you?"

I was caught off guard as I contemplated how I was. I wasn't feeling so great, actually. Aside from my usual morning grogginess and the impending dread of having to go work for Turner for the sixty-second week in a row not counting vacations and sick days, I was still unsettled about what had happened with Santana last night.

"Eh, I'm okay..." I said, feeling myself sink from the floating joy I had for Kimi.

"That doesn't sound like 'okay' to me," Kimi said. "Something wrong?"

"I don't want to kill your buzz," I said.

"Nothing could kill my buzz, Britt," Kimi assured. "Tell me."

I debated brushing the issue off, saying I was tired and stressed about work. But I had just agreed to be a bridesmaid in Kimi's wedding and decided to try to get closer to her. She was a good person, and being on opposite coasts meant we had to work at being close.

"Well... I've been seeing someone," I began.

"What's his name?" Kimi said.

I cringed. I know Kimi didn't mean any harm by assuming I was seeing a man, but it was something I hated hearing. I hated that men were the norm. I liked men a lot, but I also liked women, and I didn't like always feeling stuck in the middle.

"Her name," I said, trying not to sound too self-righteous while at the same time making Kimi aware of the hurtfulness of her assumption, "is Santana. We've been seeing each other for about six weeks."

"Aw, that's great, Britt," Kimi said. I was grateful for her unspoken apology. "It's been awhile since you dated someone."

"I know," I said, sighing. "And I really, really liked her."

"Liked? As in past tense?"

"I don't know," I mumbled. "Last night I found out she did something really bad to one of her exes."

"Oh... I'm sorry to hear that."

"And then I tried to talk to Justine about it, and she told me that I was just using it as an excuse to run away because I was scared of getting close to someone."

Kimi hummed pensively. "Are you?"

Now that I wasn't coursing with adrenaline and anger at Santana, I paused to consider Justine's accusation for the first time. Was it possible that I was compounding my shock at what Santana had done with my own fears? Was I more afraid of intimacy than I thought?

"I mean... I don't know. Maybe. But what Santana did was really mean and totally out of line."

"What did she do, if you don't mind me asking?"

I wasn't sure how much I could say without incriminating Santana and outing Callie Wilson for the millionth time.

"She- she outed her ex to get a better job."

"Ouch," Kimi said. "When did that happen?"

I realized I didn't know. "A few years ago, I think."

Kimi hummed again. "Well, Britt... I mean, I don't know anything about her, so I can't tell you what to do. But I'm here to talk if you need me."

Grateful that Kimi wasn't prying, I nodded, even though she couldn't see.

Suddenly desperate for a second opinion, I asked, "Do you think I have a hard time opening up to people?"

Kimi paused for a second, and I instantly knew her answer wasn't going to be No.

But her answer wasn't as bad as I expected.

"I think that once you've had your heart shattered the way you did, it gets significantly harder to be open."

I felt something release in my stomach, relieved that Kimi had been gentle in her delivery and that she understood me better than I did myself. "Yeah," I murmured. "It is."

Kimi and I had that in common, I realized. I then thought back to when I'd been in middle school and Kimi had come home for Spring Break instead of going to Florida with her friends. She spent the whole week in her room watching TV, only coming out to shower and get plates of food to pick at. I would come to understand years later that she'd had her heart broken for the first time, but at thirteen, I didn't know what was wrong with her.

"Was it hard to open up to John?" I asked.

"So hard," she said. "He almost gave up on me a few months in. Hell, I almost gave up too. But I'm so glad we didn't."

The happy glow returned to her voice for a moment before she said, "I think you owe it to yourself to give this girl a chance, if you can. I mean, you've got a pretty strong moral compass, so obviously you wouldn't date anyone who hurts kids or kills dolphins or anything. But you know... we're all humans who make mistakes."

I thought back to the time I'd gotten angry and stomped on Kimi's laptop when I was eight. Kimi had been furious, but my mom had intervened, holding her back from screaming at me or pulling my hair.

Now, Kimi, my mom said sternly. We're all humans who make mistakes.

And as silence set into the phone line, I realized that my sister had a point.

"Tell me about this girl," Kimi invited.

Cautious, I said, "What do you want to know?"

"Do you like her?" Kimi asked.

Swallowing, I heard myself saying, "So much." I swallowed again, feeling as though I was going to start crying. I had built Santana up to be an impossibly perfect woman, and it was no one's fault my but own when she had failed to live up to my expectations.

"What do you like about her?" my sister asked.

I felt as though describing all the wonderful things about Santana would be too much to handle at this early hour. But Kimi was blissfully calm and a surprisingly good listener for someone with such exciting news of her own.

"She's really smart," I began, "and ambitious and successful. She's beautiful and independent and she takes me to all these cool places and offers to pay for things. She's funny. We get goofy together sometimes. And she's a really good listener. And a good kisser." I felt my heart lift at the thought of Santana's kisses

"You better lock that shit down, then," Kimi said with a laugh. Then her voice softened. "No, but in all seriousness, you sound like you're smitten. Maybe it's both the fear and the fact that she made a mistake that's tripping you up."

"Yeah," I said, realization soaking into my body with relief.

Maybe it wasn't as black and white as Justine had tried to paint it; this wasn't just about me being scared. Santana had made a mistake, and I was letting Santana's mistake inflame my fear. Maybe I felt too vulnerable around her to let go. Maybe this whole not-having-sex thing was a way to protect myself from all the feelings that would come regardless of how much I was wearing or how close her body was to mine.

Maybe I really, truly cared for her, and that's why I was freaking out.

I felt myself start to shake as I let that realization settle into my body. No matter what Santana had done, I had feelings that were stronger than I could control.

I felt myself start to prickle with tears. I had come home from my date the night before burning, trying to convince myself that Santana was a bad person. But Justine and Kimi were right; my reaction had very little to do with Santana.

Overwhelmed and feeling like I'd done enough soul searching for one day - and damn, it was only quarter to eight - I turned the conversation back to Kimi.

"How did you open up to John?" I asked. I wanted some advice, not to mention to get out of spotlight.

"I just told him I was scared," Kimi said. "It was either that or lose him. Intimacy is about sharing the good and the bad things." It was quiet for a moment before she said, "You don't have to do it all at once. You can take baby steps. Dating is figuring out how to make the good and bad work together. You're not stuck with someone until you want to be. And you know… it's the grain of sand that makes the pearl."

Grateful for my sister's sound and calm advice, I let out a sigh and thanked her, congratulating her on her engagement once more and demanding she send me pictures of her ring as soon as we hung up.

Already tired from the half hour I'd been awake, I got in the shower, contemplating my sister's unexpected wisdom. As I lathered and rinsed my hair, I realized that I owed both Santana and Justine apologies. I had overreacted and dismissed two women who really cared about me.

Fear can make us do crazy things.

When I got out, I bumped into Justine on the way to my room. I decided not to waste more time pushing her away. It was difficult to say, but I managed: "Hey, I'm sorry I wrote you off last night about the whole Santana thing. You were right. I'm scared."

Justine gave me a gentle smile that held none of the smugness I expected. "Thanks," she said. "I hope you two can work things out."

"Me too," I said, feeling myself tense at the prospect of apologizing to Santana.

"I'm rooting for you two," Justine said, lifting a fist and pumping it gently. "I wouldn't have sent those flowers pretending to be her if I didn't think she was perfect for you."

Stunned and relieved to finally know who had sent the first damn flowers, I almost dropped my towel.

"That was you?" I asked.

Justine gave a guilty nod.

"But… why?"

"You were having a rough week and I wanted you to be happy and excited about something. I knew you'd assume they were from her."

"How did you know that?" I asked, still surprised.

Justine gave a small shrug. "Because despite your hesitance, you're still a romantic at heart."

I sighed, realizing that having someone know me so well wasn't such a bad thing. If a romantic relationship could be as fulfilling and pleasantly surprising as my friendship with Justine, it was definitely something I wanted.

There was just one more hurdle I had to jump.

After thanking Justine, I rushed back into my room and grabbed my phone. It was still warm from my conversation with Kimi. After remarking on the beautiful pictures Kimi sent me of her ring on her perfectly manicured hand, I went back into my text messages and saw what Santana had sent me the night before, her plea that had gone unanswered:

I'm really sorry I didn't tell you earlier. I know it was wrong and I would never, ever do it again. Please don't hate me. I care about you so much and I hope you still want to see me.

Steeling myself and trying not to get the screen wet with my dripping hair, I typed out, I don't think you're a bad person. I just needed some time. I'm sorry I freaked out.

She responded right away. Okay, I understand. Let me know if there's anything you want to know.

Okay.

There was a long pause before she responded. Do you still want to see me?

I felt my pulse rush as I forced myself to type of the truth. Yes.

Then there was a long pause and she typed, Can we have lunch Saturday?

Dreading the prospect but knowing I owed both of us a chance, I agreed.

And even as I fought the dread that came with agreeing to see her, I knew that the dread was nothing more than me fighting to keep myself safe, which had nothing to do with her. She was going to be someone I adored no matter what.

And that was terrifying.

x

The rest of the week was just as bad as the first few days after Santana left my house. I felt it was obvious to everyone, including the customers, that I didn't like my work anymore. That was something I never thought would happen. Not since that first glorious night in the Box. Not since deciding I was going to do this. I thought that if I got to dance as a painted lady a few times a week and be paid what I was worth, I would be happy.

But it turns out that isn't how things work. I'd already put in almost a year, so I guess I should have counted myself lucky that I didn't burn out earlier. I danced for a year and didn't get bored. I was solvent and solid in who I was. But that week, I started to feel hollow. I started thinking deeper about the backwardness of the beautiful girls chasing the losers and creeps. What was it that drove girls like me to do this? Was it money? Curiosity? Something empty inside us? Boredom? Given the way girls are sexualized from birth, was it less of a choice than I was making it? I started wondering what there was for me to do now that I wasn't fulfilled by being bare.

Callie didn't say anything to me directly. She threw me a few pitying glances, which may have actually been worse than confronting me. Her looks seemed to say, I'm sorry this isn't working for you anymore, but this is just how it is.

I stopped talking to Callie so much because I knew she could see right through my skin to my hollow inside. I avoided Justine too, simply because I didn't want to talk about any of it. I didn't want to acknowledge that I had been sent into a tailspin, an abyss of questioning that seemed bottomless.

I managed to stave off the depression. I requested a week off, and, miraculously, the vacation was granted. Aside from the three pole classes I still had to teach, I spent the week lying on my couch reading books, hoping they would provide some kind of escape. When they didn't, I put the books down and started playing computer games. That worked a little better, but when two of the female Sims started falling in love, I had to quit.

I started sorting through my apartment. I mended clothing that had little holes, gave away dishes I never used, organized the things I always intended to. To the outside observer, I was being productive. But to me, I was just filling the time. I regretted taking the vacation by the third day. It seemed a waste not to be somewhere exotic and thrilling with my precious time off. I had the money, and for a brief moment, I contemplated cancelling my Swivel classes and driving up to Mendocino or down to San Diego for a few days. But I knew I'd just do the same thing, wandering around listlessly, putting off the basic daily tasks of showering and eating for no reason other than I didn't want time to confine me so much.

I couldn't avoid Justine forever. She knew something was up when she came home to find the front closet immaculate. Luckily, she took a gentle approach in confronting me. She handed me a glass of wine and settled into her chair next to the couch.

"I'm worried about you, Britt," she said, her voice low and uncharacteristically gentle. "The cleaning doesn't usually go on this long."

I appreciated her thought, but I didn't want to talk about how I was lusting after a straight girl who was probably engaged by now.

So I bluffed.

"I'm getting dragged down by work," I said, sighing with the full heaviness that stripping had saddled me with.

"How so?" Justine said, tipping her head as she eased back into her chair, relieved I was finally talking.

"I don't know… Just wondering at one point it's not a job anymore. I never saw myself as a career stripper, but I've been at it for nine months and I'm not exactly looking around for anything else. Pretty soon there's an obvious gap in my résumé that I don't want to have to explain."

Justine nodded, contemplating my ordeal. "Well, you've got Swivel, right? You love that."

"I do love that," I said, giving a lackluster smile. Teaching had been the only bright spot in my awful week. "But that won't pay all my bills. And I still don't know what to do about the car…" I said, gesturing toward the window closest to the street.

Justine gave me a concerned pout. She didn't say anything for a long time and I felt guilty for being dishonest with her about the source of my unhappiness. I just couldn't tell her I'd done something as stupid as falling for a straight girl.

So I kept talking. "I just don't feel like I'm making a difference, you know? Kind of feels like a waste of time."

What I said was true - I had no delusions about making the world a better place by dancing naked and entertaining strangers' fantasies. But it wasn't my primary concern at the moment.

Justine frowned deeper and nodded, though she didn't look convinced. "That would bother me too." She paused again. "Is there anything else?" she asked.

Knowing I couldn't lie with words, I shook my head.

Justine pouted again, not pushing me to explain more. "Maybe you just need to get out. Are you working tomorrow night?"

I shook my head again.

"Good!" Justine chirped, perking up. "One of my coworkers just got engaged and we're all going out to celebrate. You should come!"

Instantly my stomach dropped and I felt as though my heart was filled with lead.

Isaiah worked with Justine. That's how I'd met Santana in the first place.

Santana had said yes.