Chapter 36

I walked around Dave's bedroom by myself. I knew it was his 'cuz Quinn had told me he was an only child. The walls were bare blue. There wasn't even a nudie poster. There was only a line of wooden shelves, weighed down by trophies and ribbons dating back to junior high school.

He had a big flat-screen TV, 40 inches, a Sharp Aquos. Next to it was a stack of stupid comedy DVDs. I flipped through them absentmindedly- "Superbad," "Dumb and Dumber," "Dazed and Confused"- listening to the voices downstairs as they laughed and cursed and shouted.

I took a seat on Dave's floor. When I closed my eyes I could see the whole living room. I could see everyone else's faces and they snapped into place in my head like a puzzle, all of them fitting together.

"Hey, what are you doing in here?" Quinn asked. "I can't even go to the bathroom for one minute?"

My lids flew open. I didn't hear the knock, the door opening and then closing again. Quinn loomed there like a ghost in her white dress and her white skin. She floated into the room and sighed, closing the door behind her.

"It was more than one minute," I answered. "I think it was at least five."

Quinn folded her arms across her chest, her hazel eyes sparking. "Come on and get up, Brittany. This is ridiculous. If you don't go back downstairs, everyone is gonna make fun of us. They already think you're weird enough. Don't throw fuel on the fire."

"Shut up," I snapped. "Leave me alone." I jumped up and ran over to the window.

Fuel on the fire...

I was sure it wasn't how she meant it, but that's how I felt then. Like I was on fire. Like Quinn had just stuck me on a stick and was making a S'more out of me.

Her face grew soft. She followed me over to the window and took me by the arm. "Do you want me to take you home?" she asked. "I mean, if that's what you want, I'll just tell everyone you got sick and puked."

"But I didn't drink anything," I muttered, making sure I didn't meet her eyes.

"You wanna go somewhere else then?" Her fingers hit my ear, smoothing a strand of my hair, striking my tragus piercing. "Just us?"

She leaned into me. She smelled like baby powder and honeysuckle and the grass on her parents' front lawn. I could feel her breath at my cheek. Any second now she was gonna kiss me again. She was gonna take another part of me I'd have to hide under my dance clothes.

"No! Stop it!" I shouted, knocking her in the shoulder.

My fist collided with her collarbone, the sound booming in my face at the same time something else screeched behind me. I slapped my palms over my ears and spun around.

The window was open and Santana's knees were on the sill, her painted nails digging into the metal as she panted.

"Hey, guys." Gasp, pant. "What's up?" Pant, pant. She smirked, crashing to the floor in a mess of limbs and letting out a painful moan. She stood up in a flash and brushed herself off. "Yeah, I figured this must have been the house. Two blonde white girls in the window." She clicked her tongue and winked. "Bingo. High school party in Ohio."

"What the hell are you doing?" Quinn exclaimed, stepping away from Santana, away from her square of carpet as if she'd contaminated it. "You can't just break into peoples' houses!"

"Oh, I didn't break in," Santana said. She brushed a leaf off of her jacket. It fluttered to the floor and crunched. "The window was totally open. Dave Karofsky should really be more careful. I know people who know people- in Lima Heights- who would go all Dillinger on this house."

Santana turned to smile at me. I hid my blushing grin behind my hand.

"Look, thing, you weren't invited to this party so why don't you just go back to Mexico?"

"Wow! Another amazing 'Why-don't-you-just-go-back-to-some-cliched-place' joke from Ms. Quinn Fabray!" Santana remarked, clapping. "When's your next show? I just love it when I can use the money I earn from dancing on poles to support up-and-coming comics like yourself."

"Don't start with me!" Quinn shouted. "I'll call the cops!"

I swiveled my head from her to Santana. I'd never seen Santana more content. I'd never seen Quinn more ready to explode.

"All right then, I'll use your own joke on you," Santana spoke, walking right into Quinn's shoes. "Why don't you just go back downstairs and fuck whatever loser guy you're using this week to pretend you don't care about Brittany? You know, before I have to beat your ass down." She smiled sweetly, smacking Quinn in the face with the back of her hand.

My mouth froze open as Quinn turned the same color red as the ink in my Hello! Kitty pen. She lunged at Santana, grabbing her by the hair and knocking her into the wall. Santana struck it like a brick. I watched as one of Dave's football trophies wobbled into jelly. It fell on its side on the shelf.

There was a bang at the door, someone's fist ringing and a guy's voice I didn't recognize "Hey, what's going on in there? If some hotass lesbian sex is happening, you could at least make it a threesome!"

"SHUT UP!" Quinn yelled at the door. "NOTHING'S GOING ON, SO JUST LEAVE US ALONE!" She yanked herself away from Santana and took a deep breath, turning to glare straight at me. She hurriedly rubbed the smack out of her cheek, smoothing the wrinkles from her perfect white dress. "Do whatever you want, Brittany," she hissed into my ear. "But I'm not like you."

Quinn threw the door open and left.

"Bye!" Santana cried out. "Thanks for the dance!" She gave me a nervous grin, swiping at her mouth with the corner of her thumb. "So...have you ever climbed down a tree before?"