If Only You Could See What I See

by FrogsRcool

I wanted to follow her. So bad. She was the most interesting person I'd ever seen in my entire life and I didn't even know why. Brittana

26. Okay

Chapter 26 : Okay

The only thing I could think to do was to walk away. I wanted to ask Hailey to repeat herself, but I didn't want her repeating what she had said when I was near Mercedes. So I walked fast and away. I wasn't really headed anywhere specific, I was just getting away.

My throat was tightening the furtherI walked and the longer I listened to nothing over the phone. So I pulled it away from my ear and held my phone to my chest. My heart was hammering. Not in a nervous way or in a way that meant I was surprised. It was in a way that felt like my heart was fighting to keep beating and keep from stopping. And it felt like it was fighting way too hard. Pounding and pounding and pounding. I could hear it in my ears and I could feel it in my hands. It was making it hard to breath. Or, I guess, maybe it was my tightening throat that was making it hard to breathe.

I pushed open the back door behind the bar and started to move faster, until I was almost running.

I tried so hard to remember what Hailey had said.

And I think I knew.

God I knew.

I was shaking. It felt like someone had shook me so hard and now my body was trying to keep everything inside of me from coming undone. I reached for the door handle and missed it the first time. My knuckles hit the frame. When reached for it the second time I grabbed it, pushed the door open, stepped in the storage closet, locked the door behind me, and then rushed to the farthest corner. I tucked and pressed my forehead against the corner of the wall and lifted my phone back up to my ear.

"I'm sorry. I didn't hear what you said." I sounded so robotic. Emotionless. And I think that was because my body was fighting so hard to keep everything in.

It was instinct I think. Older sisters were supposed to be strong. Hailey didn't need to take care of me. I might not be the smartest person in the entire world, but I was older and I was taller than her and I loved her more than any sister could possibly love their sister. She also didn't need to plug my phone in for me when I forget it at home, and remind me of the things she did. Like doctor appointments or of silly things like remembering to shut my door so Lord Tubbington didn't sneak in there when I wasn't home. She should worry about herself, and me, being an older sister should protect her.

So my body would fight and fight and fight. I would protect her.

I heard her say it again. She was crying. Her voice was weak and shaky. She kept asking me where I was. She told me that everything was under control. That she was with my dad. That they were talking to people at the house.

I wasn't giving her full responses. I kept saying okay. And why was I saying okay? That was stupid. Nothing was okay. This wasn't okay. She didn't need to keep hearing the word okay.

"Okay." I said it again and stepped farther into the corner.

It was getting even harder to breath. It felt like my breaths were stuck in my tummy and tornadoes were twisting my insides and making my stomach flip. I felt sick. So sick. Like something was crawling inside of me and begging to crawl up my throat. It was heavy and turning and gross feeling.

"Where are you?" My sister asked again. She must have asked twenty times.

"Okay," the word fell out of my mouth yet again. I slammed my eyes shut and shook my head and then pressed my forehead back into the corner of the wall. "Uhm I'm at work. I'm going to get soup with Santana. She wants to get soup. Where are you?" I paused. "I mean, where." I froze and grabbed my shirt with my free hand. My hand was shaking too much and I needed something to hold. "Do I come home? What do…Is she okay?"

"Brittany." My sister said my name through the phone. "Can you have Santana drive you? I'll text her."

"No!" I yelled and then shot my hand to cover my mouth. I hadn't meant to be so loud. Gradually I pulled my hand back down and clenched the bottom of my shirt with my fist again. "No." I swallowed a gag. My mouth was starting to water. "No, no. Text her, why? She doesn't. I can tell her. But is she okay?"

She said it again.

It didn't make sense. She had been completely fine last night. "But, last night I talked to her. She was fine. Are you sure?" I swallowed down another gag.

I felt stupid for asking those questions. I knew they were stupid questions. But I couldn't just not ask them. I would do absolutely anything to change the words Hailey had said. I would ask the stupidest question in the entire world if it meant the tiniest chance that maybe Hailey would change what she had said.

"I-It's. I. Okay. Yeah. Okay. So I come home? Or no? No. You're probably not going to be there. Or do you go to the hospital? Does she go? Do we go too? You probably don't know. I'm sorry. I uhm. I'll ask someone." I was fumbling over everything I said. I was trying so hard to put things together and nothing fit. Nothing made sense. And now I felt like I was going to puke everywhere.

I gagged, and I felt something hot crawl up my throat. That heavy sick feeling had crawled from my stomach and now was in my mouth. I had thought I should have been able to keep it down, but it fell out my mouth and down my shirt.

I moved my phone away as another heave shook my body.

What was happening? I couldn't stop it. I couldn't figure out anything and now I was puking. Oh God, Oh God. I was still shaking, so hard. It hurt.

I held my breath and held down another gag. I held it down and forced myself not to let anything else come up. I moved the phone back to my ear. "Hailey?" I asked.

"Yeah?" She responded.

"I'll be there in a little bit. Okay? Are you okay? Are you sick?" I shook my head and tried to shrug off that stupid question. Just because I was sick didn't mean she was.

"Okay." Hailey spoke.

"Okay." I said and then we both hung up.

I set my phone on the shelf and looked down at my shirt. Gross. So gross. And then I looked down at the floor. Even more gross. I dropped to my knees, pulled my shirt over my head and started to wipe up the mess I had made. I didn't want people to see this. It was gross. It was bad enough I had puked on Quinn and practically everyone had heard about it or seen it. I didn't need to be puking at work too. What if customers heard about some girl puking near their beer?

I didn't know what to do with my shirt after I had cleaned up my mess, so I balled it up and stuffed it in the corner of the storage closet. Maybe I had extra clothes in the break room. I knew I did. I knew there were outfits for our themes and I knew Rachel always kept extra clothes. She probably wouldn't mind if I borrowed a shirt.

There was a knock at the door, and then someone tried to open it.

"Hold on." I called. Hold on? Really? Hold on for what?

"Brittany. It's Mercedes." I heard her speak through the door.

I started to panic. I didn't know how to explain things. I didn't know how to explain why I had no shirt on and why my was shirt stuffed in the corner covered in puke. I didn't know exactly what Mercedes had heard. I didn't want to explain things, because I didn't even know how to explain. I wasn't even able to talk to my sister properly, so how was I supposed to talk to them?

A cry broke through my chest.

Just one. I clenched my jaw and shot both hands up to cover my face. I forced it all back in. All of it. I couldn't cry if I still didn't believe it. And as weird as it sounded, I couldn't cry in front of these people. They were my friends. They were so nice and sweet and I didn't want to give them something not-sweet to think about. I didn't want them to puke like me. I didn't want them to shake and be confused and beg me to be okay, when how I was wasn't the thing that mattered right now.

What mattered was my mom.

I felt tears start to soak my hands. But I held my breath until they stopped.

Maybe she had been so sad…too sad.

"God…" I whispered and hissed through my hands.

"Brittany?" This time it was Quinn that spoke. "Brittany can you open the door, please?" She sounded so kind. So sweet. In that instant and in that second, it made me so beyond angry that someone as kind-hearted as Quinn had to lose her baby. Why did she have to lose something that could show her the undying and unending love that she showed other people?

I clenched my jaw, snapped my hands from my face and grabbed my phone. I was squeezing it so hard. I wanted to throw it. I wanted it to shatter into a million fucking pieces. But I just kept squeezing. I kept squeezing so hard until I couldn't hold it anymore and I just tossed it away from me.

When it hit the floor the battery and back of it flew apart.

"Brittany?" Quinn said my name again. "Where's Santana? Can someone go get Santana?" Quinn spoke softer, but I could still hear her. "Brittany," she spoke louder and back through the door, "Santana's coming. Can you open the door so when she gets here she can get in?"

I wanted Santana. I really did. And I felt guilty for wanting her to hear this and wanting to tell her and putting this on her, but I wanted her. So bad.

I didn't open the door though. I couldn't make myself move. Instead I stepped back to the corner, kicked my shirt away and sat on the floor. I tucked my knees to my chest and hugged them. And as much as I wanted to tell her, I still didn't want to tell her. I didn't want her to worry about me when people as broken yet as amazing as her needed to think about themselves. She had already done enough for me. More than enough.

The only thing I knew right now was that when someone loved you and had given you everything that they could possibly give, and you made them sad, you lost them. And yes I knew that was not really how things always worked out, because everyone and every situation was different, but that wasn't how I felt right now. And that wasn't how my body was reacting.

I would never make anyone sad again. And I would never ever, ever make Santana sad.

I wiped at my face until my eyes were dry. So dry that they burned, because I did it fast and I was clumsy. I kept trying to take deep breaths and fill my chest, but I could never take in a breath further than halfway down my throat.

I was breathing too fast and too small.

"Brittany," Quinn said my name again. "Just try to breath and stay calm. Santana is coming Sweetheart."

That didn't help. It made another flood of tears fill my eyes. But I made sure they didn't fall, because when the only thing I could control was whether or not I cried, then there was no way in hell I was going to cry.

"I'm opening the door," I heard Santana speak.

It made my chest tighten. I pressed my back further into the corner of the storage closet. I tried to catch my breath. I couldn't. I clenched my fists and hit them against the floor. Why the fuck couldn't I breath right now?

Keys jingled. The doorknob clicked open and I shoved my palms over my eyes before Santana saw me. If I couldn't see her reaction, then she couldn't see mine.

But maybe since she was here I would be able to calm down and then I could look at her when I was ready and explain everything. It was just like knowing I could sleep in a dark room if she was there. With her I didn't need a TV on to help me sleep, because with her I felt different.

But my breathing still felt shaky and out of control.

The door shut quickly, so I knew it was just her who had come in. Her feet patted across the floor. Two steps. She stopped, and then she walked until I felt her standing above me.

Her hands touched my knees and when I peeked through my fingers I saw that her eyes looked so loving and warm. I had never seen someone look like that. And before now I didn't really think it was possible for someone to say I love you without saying it.

I took a shallow breath in, but had to push it out quickly, so I could take another shallow breath in.

"Your sister texted me," she whispered. "I'm here Britt. And I know that that is nothing compared to what you need and want here, but I am. I wish that this hadn't happened and I wish that I knew what to say to you to make it better."

"It's okay," I mumbled through my hands. I pulled them down from my eyes, but kept them pressed hard into my lips figuring that if I covered my mouth I could somehow catch my breath.

The most amazing feeling in the world was when someone looked at you the way she was looking at me. I felt my eyes cloud over and I had to sniff back a few tears. That amazing feeling mixed with the awful feeling I had right now was too much. "I don't understand. She was sad. Nobody that sad should…" I couldn't finish my sentence. I stopped, because I didn't want to say what had happened. "She was sad." I just repeated myself and had to take an unexpected gasp. "And she should have been happy."

"I know," Santana nodded.

"I didn't mean for that to happen last night, I-"

She interrupted me. "Of course you didn't Britt."

I continued, "I just I wasn't sure what she was mad about. I thought she knew about you and me. But it was the wrong time. I shouldn't have told her then. She was upset, because of what she had read in Hailey's diary. And I apologized to her this morning."

I shoved my hands back up to my eyes. "I'm so stupid. I didn't even. That's why she didn't get startled when I opened the door. Why didn't I notice? She's my mom and I didn't even know the difference. I should have apologized last night, and then she wouldn't have been so sad." It was getting hard to talk now. Those little panicked breaths had started to hurt and suffocate me.

I felt Santana's hands rub up and down my arms. "Slow down." She tried to hush me and kept rubbing my arms. She must have been doing it for a long time. I wasn't sure how long, but it felt like a long time. She didn't say anything for a while. She just scooted closer to me and kept rubbing my arms.

I tried to catch my breath. At first I was getting angry that I couldn't. I didn't understand why it was hard to breathe. But then I started to slow down. My chest was still burning and my throat still hurt, but I was able to take breaths that were a little bit calmer. It still felt like I was drowning, but that I was starting to learn how to breathe under water.

"You are the most beautiful person I have ever met. And your mom was beautiful too. She was sad, but if you've taught me anything it is that people can be beautiful and sad at the same time. I have never felt the way you made me feel earlier in the doctor's office waiting for Quinn. What you said about me, how you saw me that time I was crying…About love."

I smiled. It was short and sad, but it was still a smile. I felt something happy for a second and then that crawling sad feeling filled me back up.

Santana believed me when I said she was beautiful.

"What happened last night wasn't your fault. It wasn't your mom's fault. It wasn't anybody's fault. And at the same time I don't think that that was how it should have happened. I hate that the relationship between you two was so confusing. I hate that it was hard. But she loved you, because she wouldn't have reacted the way she did if she hadn't. So remember that okay."

She didn't continue until I looked at her.

Santana smiled. It was small and sad just like the one I had given her. "You are so important Brittany. I'll be here," she said as she picked up something. It was my phone. She must have picked it up when she had walked in. "Here," she handed it to me after she had put it back together. "What do you want to do?"

I didn't know how to answer that question. Not only did I rarely get asked what I wanted to do, but in this situation I didn't know what to do. She must have understood what I was thinking, because she nodded.

"Want me to drive you somewhere? I can call your sister? Or your dad? And I'll go with you and wait for you in the car outside or I can go inside. Whatever you want."

"I don't know what I want," I mumbled. It was true. I mean, I wanted this to not have happened, but that wasn't what she was asking and it would be weird to say that. "I don't want you to have to worry about stuff."

She stood up and then reached down to help me up.

I was shaky. It was hard to stand and now I really began to wonder how long we had been sitting on the floor. My legs felt tingly and weak.

"Is this yours?" Santana bent down to pick up my shirt.

I lunged for it, snatched it before she did, and then hid it behind my back. And when I looked at her I felt cold. Cold, because she looked so warm and so giving, and cold because it was cold in this room and I was shirtless. But mostly cold and distant because again I still wasn't used to someone being as loving as she was being. She was being beyond nice.

"Sorry, it just. It's gross. I got sick." I scrunched up the shirt into a tighter ball behind my back.

Santana nodded and held out her hand. "Let's go get you a clean one then."

I didn't reach out for her hand, not because I didn't want to, but because I had been touching my icky shirt. I didn't want to get puke on her. So I just apologetically frowned. She didn't have to do all of this, and by all of this, I mean she didn't have to touch my puke-hand.

"Do you want to stay in here?" Santana stepped a little closer. She peeked over her shoulder at the door.

I thought about it. It'd be easier to stay in here. I felt safe in here. I wasn't sure why, but I did. It felt like I was with Santana in our own little world, and if I went out the door then I would start crying for real.

But I needed to talk to Hailey and my dad. I needed to be with them.

Santana started to lean forward. She was going to kiss me. Shit. I jerked backwards and my back hit the wall.

Her startled expression must have mimicked mine. And then her forehead creased, because I think she was worried.

"Sorry." My voice sounded so weird, but I didn't want her to worry like that. "Sorry, I just puked. I don't want you. Well, it's gross. Sorry."

"Don't be sorry Britt," she pinched her lips together. "I was going to kiss your cheek…Just like you kissed mine. I'm pretty sure my cheek kiss won't work as well as yours did…" She studied me for a second, probably trying to decide if she should try again, and then after a few seconds she leaned in and softly pressed her lips to my cheek. "Did you want to stay in here?" She spoke into my cheek and then leaned back.

I wanted her to kiss me again. My dad was right when he said a kiss to the cheek makes sadness feel weak. I still felt sad, but maybe if she did it again and forever I could just think about her kissing my cheek and not think about other stuff.

I shook my head no. No I didn't want to stay in here. Well, I did, but I needed to leave. I couldn't stay in here forever.

With my hands still behind my back, she stepped closer to me and put her hand on my back and between my shoulders. I walked with her. I kept my head down, my eyes on her feet, and watched us walk to the door.

When she pulled it open, someone fell backwards, but caught themselves. It was Rachel. She had been sitting against the door. As she stood up Quinn stepped from against the wall and in front of us.

I felt them staring. Searching. But I kept my eyes on Santana's shoes. I knew if I looked up I wouldn't be able to control my reaction. Maybe I would be fine, but maybe I would freak out again and not be able to breathe.

Rachel reached for the shirt behind my back and yanked it from my hands. "I'll put this in the sink," she told me and I knew she was trying to get me to look up at her, but right after she had taken the shirt I had snapped my eyes back down to Santana's feet. "I'll get you one of mine." Rachel knew I wasn't going to respond. She knew she had to steal the shirt from my hands to get it from me. She knew me. She was my friend. She didn't know about cheek kisses and the butterflies like Santana did, but she knew things.

I think there were other people nearby too. Probably Mercedes or Tina or Holly. Maybe all three of them. But I wasn't going to look.

Quinn asked if I wanted her call anybody. I shook my head no. And by then Rachel had come back, jogging, with a clean shirt. I put it on so quickly, yanking it over my head and shoving my arms through the holes.

I felt weird. Like since what my sister had said was so unbelievable that everything else was unbelievable. I shouldn't have left the storage closet. I should have stayed in there and calmed down a bit more.

We started walking through the back room. I folded my hands across my chest and pulled my eyes up. I didn't want to keep staring at Santana's feet, because I didn't want to trip, and I didn't want people to be sad and worried about me.

I wanted people to be happy. That was all I had ever wanted. Usually if other people were happy then I was happy. And maybe if they were happy then I would be okay and I wouldn't have to feel so guilty. But I didn't know how to change anything. I didn't know what to say or think. I didn't even know what to do.

And I know it was wrong to feel guilty for something like this, but I couldn't help it. Bringing that kind of cloud over other people was an awful feeling. It felt heavy and drowning and the worst part was I didn't know how to take it back.

I kind of forgot the walk to Santana's car. One second we were inside and then we were outside and Quinn was leaning in the passenger seat giving me a hug. If I had known she was going to give me a hug, then I would have told her that maybe I still had puke on me and she probably didn't want to get it on her.

But she was done hugging me before I could warn her and then she shut my door.

Now I knew why Quinn put her head against the window earlier. Losing someone makes you feel hot and clammy. I felt like I was in the middle of a sauna and I was never going to get out. The glass window was cool and I think it was the only thing keeping me from having a heat stroke.

"Are we going to my house?" I finally was able to ask something. And I asked the question when we had pulled onto my road. I had been thinking about asking it the whole time, just only now was I able to say it.

"Yeah." Santana glanced at me, but I kept my face against the window.

We parked against the curb and I kept staring out the window. I was watching the neighbor's cat. He was sitting on a car and had stood up because he saw me. He always came over to the house, because he liked to be petted. One night he sat on our porch all night and meowed until I went outside and petted him. And sometimes he followed me to the front door and tried to sneak inside.

"Do you want me to go in with you?" When she spoke it startled me and made me bump my head against the window.

I looked over to her. What did she say? I narrowed my eyes and tried to remember. I had heard the words, I just had forgotten them. "What?"

"Do you want me to go in with you?" She repeated herself.

I looked past her and at my house. Both my sister's car and my dad's car were in the driveway. I didn't know if it was appropriate to bring her in. I wanted her to come in with me, because I felt safer when she was around. "Should you come in?"

Again I remembered the night I had done stuff with her in her bathroom. The first night we had done anything. It wasn't that long ago. Only a few days ago, but I think I remembered it because afterwards I had asked her what I should tell my sister. It was silly to not know how to deal with my own family and I shouldn't have to keep asking Santana these questions.

"Do you want me to?" Santana asked. "I will if you want me to."

I nodded.

So she nodded and got out of the car. I opened my own door and climbed out, because I knew she was on her way to open it for me. I was out with the door shut, before she was halfway to me. I walked around the car and with her to the front door. While we walked I straightened my clothes and I wiped at my face to make sure nothing was on it.

Santana looked at me when we got to the porch and I was pretty sure she was making sure I was okay to go in, even if I just pretended she was making sure that there wasn't any puke on me.

The front door opened. My dad was standing there. He looked a little surprised to see someone with me, but not surprised to see that it as Santana.

"Come in girls." He spoke and it was just as emotionless as I had sounded earlier. He left us and headed back to the kitchen. He was on the phone. I could hear him mumbling.

I walked in. Hailey was sitting at the kitchen table. I wanted to walk over to her and give her a hug. She looked completely drained, but I wasn't sure what to do or what to say. I only ever talked to my dad and sister about easy stuff. Hard stuff was hard for a reason and I didn't want to make it harder by hugging Hailey.

So I sat on the couch and Santana sat with me.

It was awkward. And I was starting to get too hot again. I think it was awkward, because my mom wasn't here. She was always here. It was like losing a ring you always wear. You kept touching your finger, because it felt so naked. That was exactly how I felt, only right now I felt like I wanted to curl up on this couch and wait until my mom came back. Even if I knew she wasn't going to. I wanted to wait.

And it felt awkward, because nobody was crying. In sad movies everyone cried and screamed. The only thing I had done was puke and not be able to breathe properly. I wanted to cry and at the same time I didn't want to cry. I wanted to hug Hailey and I didn't want to hug her.

Hailey was standing in front of me. It was like when I had walked to Santana's car. One second Hailey was at the table, and then the next she was standing right in front of me.

"What'd you say to her last night?" Hailey whispered.

I snapped my eyes up to hers. I was wrong. She had been crying.

"What?" I asked, even if I had heard the question. It was just a reaction…

"Don't play stupid Brittany. Not now. Just tell me what you said," she looked so angry.

I saw Santana shaking her head from the corner of my eye.

"What are you even doing here?" Hailey snapped at Santana.

I felt both me and Santana go stiff.

"This is a family matter."

I looked to Santana. She had no clue what to say. So I looked back to Hailey. "I wanted her here."

Hailey completely ignored what I had said. "What did you say to mom last night?"

I held my breath. I hadn't really said anything, not on purpose.

"Why was she so upset?" I could tell that my sister was getting impatient.

"S-she, uh. She s-"

"Spit it out Brittany." My sister hissed and I saw new tears start to fall down her cheeks.

It made me want to cry. But I still didn't want to cry. Instead I held my cry in and let my eyes pool with sticky tears. "Uh, she found your diary and the-"

I was interrupted again.

She slapped me. It was loud. The noise startled me more than anything.

I was too shocked to even move. Santana jumped up from the couch, but Hailey had already backed off. I knew she hadn't meant to slap me. She pulled her hands to cover her mouth and muffle her cry. She quickly quieted it and then looked from me to Santana.

"I'm going to a friend's." Hailey nodded and stormed out of the house.

I sat in confused shock. I hadn't even gotten the chance to explain myself. Hailey didn't even know that my mom thought the diary was mine. The door slammed shut.

My dad poked his head out from the kitchen. He looked confused. I was surprised he hadn't come out when Hailey slapped me, but maybe it only sounded loud because my ears were so close.

"Where'd your sister go?" He asked.

"Her friend's," I repeated what Hailey had told me.

My dad nodded. He looked so tired. And he was missing work. I wondered if he looked this tired at work. I really didn't see him that much. "You girls don't have to hang around here. I can call you about the arrangements tonight Honey."

I nodded. I didn't think he wanted me around. I think he wanted the place to himself and a place to quietly call people, because whenever he came home from work he usually went to his room. My dad was one of those people who needed his own space sometimes.

So I stood up to stand by Santana. My dad went back into the kitchen and started mumbling through the phone again. I told him I loved him, grabbed Santana's hand and led her out of my house. And when we got to Santana's car, I texted Hailey and told her that my mom thought that the diary was mine and that she was mad at me. Hailey didn't do anything wrong.

I got a text back. Okay.

XXXXXxxxxxxxxxxxX

Thank you Stephanie!