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Chapter 52

From the doorway I saw us in the bed, white cotton sheets wrinkled around our bodies instead of a quilt, her kiss on my lips. I felt her skin on top of mine. I felt her mashed breasts and the underwire of her bra digging into me, her warm mouth closing over my nipples and her fingers moving down my legs. I felt her inside of me. I felt the fullness of her, how much she had melted into me. I saw myself disappearing.

She had her foot on the door, holding it open. "You gonna go in?" she asked. "Brit?"

I looked across at her and Peter Rabbit jumped into my throat. Santana was smiling. Her smile was so beautiful. Her lips. Her mouth. Her tongue, peeking out. I could pull her body into mine and kiss her. Just kiss her. Just like that.

"Huh?" My one word instead.

"You coming in?" Her eyebrows shot up.

I nodded and followed her into room 1216 of the Holiday Inn downtown.

She shut the door and collapsed across the bed, kicking her heels off into the carpet as if they were darts. "God, I'm fucking tired!" Her leather jacket came unzipped. It landed beside her shoes on the floor. She stretched her arms up over her head with a sigh. "I wanna sleep forever!"

I watched as the fabric of her shirt rose up, a slat of caramel skin and the hint of her belly button peeking out. I walked over to the bed and picked up all of her stuff, clutching those dark pieces of her against my chest. "You should keep things clean," I told her. I hung her jacket over the desk chair and lay her heels in a line beneath it.

I heard Santana laugh at me. "You're worse than Ms. Pillsbury, Captain OCD of the S.S. McKinley. I caught her in the hallway once scrubbing one of the water fountains with a toothbrush. I swear I went to class and, like an hour later, she was still at it."

"Well, maybe she feels safer when things aren't a mess all around her," I said quietly.

Santana sat up, making a face at me. "Yeah, okay."

I turned away from her to gaze out the window. The view was terrible. Downtown Lima. All I could see was a blue-gray sky and a parking lot, dotted with little cars that looked like they should have been toys.

"Sorry," Santana said. "I didn't mean that you were like her and fucked-up or anything."

"I don't care," I told the window. I watched one of the little toy cars get a person inside of it and drive away. "Santana?"

"What?"

I turned around to face her. She was sitting Indian-style on the bed, the fluffy white sheets bunched up under her. "Why are we at a hotel?" I asked.

"I'm staying here now. Since Friday morning," she said, as if she were talking about the weather or math class or how big a bathtub was instead. "I stole my mom's credit card and brought some of my stuff here. But honestly, Brit, it is so not hot living out of your book bag. I mean, just look at my hair," she said, flicking a hand towards her head. "And I'm trying! Anyways, I thought you could join me for a while at Hospederia Fiesta. It could be like a bad movie or something, right?"

"Santana..." Her name slipped from my lips and left behind a burn.

"Santana, Santana, Santana..."

And then I couldn't stop thinking it. She was in my brain. There was nothing but her inside of me. My chest rose and fell with a single heartbeat, a single breath. It felt like all 17 pounds of Lord Tubbington had jumped on top of me. I melted down to the floor in a rainbow puddle.

"Don't sit there," Santana remarked. "It's disgusting. You know that perverted Japanese men use these rooms to pick up hookers when they're in Ohio on business."

"I'm not sitting," I said quietly, squashing my palm against my chest. "My body's just attacking me."

"What?" Santana's face fell. She leaped off of the bed and tramped over to me, squeezing the fingers that I was still holding to my ribs. "Brittany, are you okay? Please be okay. Please." Her voice was suddenly serious. Her eyes grew wide. I could see the dark chocolate rings around their edges, her pupils expanding into black bowling balls. "Everything's fine, okay? Don't worry." She took my chin in her curved palm and smiled at me. "I was just joking. I'm not really staying here. Come on now. My parents' have a fucking mansion and my bedroom has its own security system. Why would I wanna live at a Holiday Inn?"

"You're lying."

She opened her mouth and nothing came out and I knew I was right.

The stupid fist came back into my throat, punching, punching, punching. But I wasn't gonna cry. I was so tired of crying. I grabbed Santana's arm instead, slamming my body into hers. I kissed her as hard as I could. I kissed her like I was trying to glue myself to her forever. I heard her gasp as her head hit the carpet, moaning loudly as my tongue slipped in between her teeth and socked her.

She tasted different from the other times. She tasted more like me now, like my Lip Smackers and my peanut butter sandwiches and the apple juice I'd had at breakfast.

I pulled away and swallowed. My throat was clear.

"Jesus, Brittany," Santana muttered with a heavy breath. "I told you these floors were dirty." She lay there for a moment then peeled herself off of the carpet, stumbling back over to the bed.

I tackled her before she could get anywhere, running her hips into the wall and pinning her wrists against its cold surface. Her body made a SLAP noise as it hit. "Feel something!" I yelled at her. "Why don't you feel anything, Santana?" I dug my knee into the V of her open legs.

She let out a tiny noise, staring at me with eyes full of fear. I pushed harder. She hung her head into my shoulder and started to cry and all of the colors in my rainbow coat exploded.