Short but sweet, trying to jump into this again... I am so sorry about keeping you all waiting and wondering about whether or not this will ever get finished. I hope it does. But, honestly, I haven't watched a new episode of Glee since Cory's tribute ep. Life's been wild. Been working on real life novellas, which is super exciting. Know what else is crazy? I think I started writing this in the ninth grade- maybe eighth, and today I got my letter of acceptance into university. Wild. Stuff. However, much love to everyone who continues to read this as I post these ridiculous, splotchy updates. You're troopers 3

She lunged at her before Brittany even had the chance to respond. One of Santana's hands cupped around the back of her neck; the other grabbing her jaw and pulling Brittany's face as close as it could physically get. Truthfully; it was messy. Awkwardly proportioned as Santana leaned over the central console of the truck and attempted to grab at her. Brittany was so shocked that she felt her heart catch in her throat, her body simultaneously tensed and became a ragdoll, her arms laying limp at her side while her brain took a few strides to come to terms with the situation. Kissing. Kissing? Her lips moved in time with Santana's; parting willingly to allow the girl more access. Kissing. She snaked one arm around Santana's waist; providing leverage. Her mouth tasted like the blue raspberry syrup of the slushie she held earlier; she hummed, falling into sync quickly with the girl's movements. Santana's hand moved from her jaw, and began tracing a light line down Brittany's neck, to her collarbone; so softly that it gave her goosebumps. Kissing!

The light switched on inside her head, and Brittany moved her hand from it's spot on the girl's waist and replaced it firmly on Santana's chest; shoving her away with enough vigor to break their kiss and send her back to her seat with an 'oomf' and a stunned expression.

"Santana!" Brittany scolded, heat rising in her cheeks. Santana's brows furrowed slightly, and she closed her mouth- appearing somewhere between shocked and that kicked-puppy expression. "I've been over this- I'm in a relationship! We can't do stuff like that until I break up with him!"

'Britt, you're just dating him out of pity," Santana sighed, licking her lips and then pursing them in a tight line, "That's not really dating him."

And again, she felt like screaming. Because, she knew better than anyone exactly what was going on. All she wanted was to build up the courage to break it off with him, and for Kurt to cushion the blow without judgement. "I know, but he doesn't! Breaking up with him will crush him enough; the least I can do is not cheat. You know, like a decent girlfriend."

A small growl of frustration escaped from the girl, she began to fiddle with her keys distractedly, "You're making things difficult."

Brittany's jaw dropped so fast it could have dislocated. "I'm not making anything difficult," How could she say that? Santana was the one constantly on the edge of things! What was she even going to do about it? "I'm gonna go," She said dryly, reaching for the handle of the truck. Santana appeared exasperated.

"Britt," She started, but Brittany slid out of the truck as quickly as she could- before Santana could say anything more, and she'd cave in and forgive her. When really- that was a dick move. She should have known better.
Brittany half expected Santana to drive after her and apologize- but, when Brittany got to the curb, she looked back at the vehicle; which was just idling in that spot. She wasn't coming. Good. Checking both ways; she headed back for the skating rink; hopefully, Sam wouldn't have left home yet.

He did.

"Sam," Brittany sighed, once his voicemail had ended, "I just wanted to say that I am so sorry about what happened back there. Santana... I don't know what was going on. I got out of there as fast as I could, but you were gone by the time I got back... Just, give me a call, okay?"
But, what could she really say? Would it be obvious now that there was something more than just Spanish partners? As soon as he got his dignity back, if the poor boy ever did- he would be all over her with the questions. And, if not the questions, then the demands about why that happened, and why didn't Brittany stand up for him? Groaning, she buried her head in her hands. She now sat in her bedroom, of course, after calling a cab home- and she could safely grovel on her own.
And then there was Santana. As flattering as it was that the girl was so keen on her, Brittany couldn't help but find her... territorial tendencies a tad bit concerning. What she should be doing is waiting for Brittany to muster up the courage and break up with Sam before all but forcing herself against her. That wasn't the right thing to do... right? That wasn't normal?
With a follow up noise of distress, she flopped backwards, pouting up at the ceiling while her glasses slid down the bridge of her nose. She made no effort to adjust them. Her mother must have heard her, because mere moments later she was at the door, hands on her hips.
"Alright, Britt," She muttered in an oddly accusatory voice, "What's going on?"

"Mom," She sighed, squeezing her eyes shut. "Not now."
Her mother entered the room, her demeanour instantly offended, "Excuse me? I'm your mother, you talk to me with respect!"
"Mom, please," Brittany's nerves were pinching inside of her brain, "I am in a terrible mood and there's a lot of stuff going on and I don't want to talk about it right now!"

"Britt-"
"Mom!" She snapped, throwing her hands to her temples in frustration. Yeah, there was definitely a killer migraine coming... Just then, her phone went off in a high pitched, droning ring. Glancing at her mother, she tried to speak as politely as possible, "Will you please let me get this?"
Her mother just made another exaggerated, offended face, and then left the room. Snatching up the phone, she answered the call and prepared for the worst; "Hello?"
"Hey, Britt..." Sam said slowly, absolutely downtrodden.
"Oh, hi, Sam," She wasn't sure how happy she should be. Does she give him time to recover from this? Or does she just deliver all the bad news at once- fast, like a Bandaid? "I'm sorry about the rink earlier," She started, trusting her tongue to just let the words spill out, "I had a really nice time... You know, before Santana came."
He made a small grunt, the kind that delivered no specific emotion. This isn't a great jumping off point... "And, look," Brittany added, scratching the back of her neck awkwardly, "I'm sorry I didn't stick up for you, either. I should have, but I was just so shocked."
Another grunt. Just as aloof as the first. Brittany couldn't help but sigh, he wasn't giving her a whole lot to work with, here. "But look, maybe this is a good time to say this..." She found herself admitting, tapping her foot incessently on the ground. Nerves jittered up her whole body, it felt like electricity was wracking the inside of her body- and not in the good way. "You're a great guy, Sam- one of my best friends. But... I don't think you're right for me, to be... you know... dating."
Static silence on the other end of the phone. Something told her that he knew this was coming. "There's nothing wrong with you," She tried to assure him, "It's just... It's not fair to you, if I can't be fully into the relationship. You understand?"
"Yeah." He muttered, his voice an icy clip.
"I'm sorry, Sam." Genuinely, truly, she was. "And I know this is the worst possible thing to say- but it's true; I'd love it if we could still be friends. You know, just how we used to be."
"Sure, yeah." He stated again, "I'm going to go now."
"Alright. Bye, Sam."
"Bye."
He hung up before she had even removed the phone from her ear. Staring down at the screen, she had the vague, lost sense of 'What do I do now?' She wanted to tell someone about this. Truly, she was relieved, but she still felt the weighing guilt of what she had done, too. And she didn't feel quite ready to tell Santana, whom would be all over the situation. Tina? Maybe, she hadn't really been involved at all, which would mean she could vent and the girl would likely deliver empathy, but deep down, she would be indifferent. And same goes for Artie. But that's not really what she wanted, either. Which left her with one option, which also didn't seem so appealing; Kurt. Sure, he'd be just as relieved that Brittany had finally been able to cut the cord before things got too messy, but when he found out she'd never fessed up to the actual cheating, he may be disappointed.
She didn't bother doing anything. She dropped her phone to the floor lazily, removed her glasses, and curled into a ball atop of her sheets. Maybe after a short nap, she'd feel a bit better about things.