A/N: Oh god this was supposed to be like 4000 words but it's like 8. I hope you people appreciate what I do for you! just kidding. But thanks for all the responses last chapter, and here is an actual timely continuation of the last chapter.
As always, thanks for the new reviews/alerts/favorites! I hope everyone's still enjoying it :)
The next morning, Brittany rolled off the bed to an abrupt wake. Everyone jolted up at the sound as she simply lay there, too embarrassed and tired to move. She didn't want to wake up; that meant the day would start and she had to leave Santana for seven hours of discovering her new life. A small part of her was excited because she had an audition and a chance to prove that she belonged at the school, but she also knew that she'd have to face her academics and them telling her why she didn't belong there. That felt like a self-imposed torture.
"Britt?"
Santana's voice came over the top of the bed as her head appeared, surrounded by a few streams of light that had made it through the curtains Anna strung shut the night before. She laughed quietly and leaned down, leaving her face perched mere inches from Brittany's, dark hair cascading down around them.
"Are you awake," Santana asked, joke clearly evident in her tone.
Brittany stretched up on the palms of her hands to kiss Santana lightly on the lips. She hummed in appreciation of the plush skin encasing her bottom lip, pulling it like a gentle introduction into awareness. She didn't have another chance to fall back asleep with Santana's mouth on hers and the way it sparked warmth into her limbs, increasing her heart's beat.
Her body came back to a rest on the floor and Santana's followed her, leaning further down to keep connected. With her free hands, Brittany grabbed Santana by the waist and dragged her down to the floor, gentle enough for her to anticipate and provide support. They didn't need to rouse their moms earlier than they needed to; even if her fall had already done that.
Santana's knees were outside either of her calves and her hands fell against each shoulder, gripping them softly. Brittany titled her head, letting Santana add more pressure against her lips. She couldn't remember if she woke up wanting a quick make-out session or if it just happened. Her hips shifted and she felt residual pain shoot through her leg; Oh yeah, she thought, remembering the fall she'd taken out of bed.
Suddenly, the room brightened as the curtains were thrown open, startling them both into submission. Santana peered down at Brittany with a devilish smirk, pecking her nose and sitting up on her thighs to see the progress Anna and Maria had made. Brittany squirmed underneath her but she let a few rogue tickles capture her sides until she stayed still. The thrill of hiding without having to be hiding made her smile. They were acting like kids and she could tell Brittany enjoyed that.
Her mom was still in bed with an arm slung over her eyes and Anna was gazing outside the window. Santana turned to check the alarm clock on their nightstand and read 7:39 as the time. She and her mom needed to be at the Musician's Institute by ten and Brittany had her audition at nine fifteen. Brittany really couldn't have picked a better opportunity to roll off the bed.
"You work better than an alarm clock," Santana said, changing position and letting Brittany up.
Brittany popped up in front of her and grabbed onto her hips with both hands. "I'll wake you up forever."
"Not too early though, right?"
Her head shook back and forth eagerly. "Of course not. Then I don't get to snuggle."
Santana kissed her on the forehead with a loud smacking noise. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Anna prodding her mom in the arm.
"Mare," she mumbled. "Get up."
Maria swatted at her. "I don't have to get up. You guys have to shower first anyway."
Anna glanced over at the girls and smirked, poking Maria again. "Let's go."
"Touch me again and I'll drop you."
"Mama!" Santana bellowed across the room, stifling her laughter.
Anna chuckled and simply shoved her again. "Ever the morning person…"
Before Santana and Brittany could even finish laughing, Maria shot straight forward in bed and groaned irritably. Brittany didn't have to wonder where Santana got her sleeping habits from. She remembered staying in the hotel with them when the Lopez's took her with them to New York; Victor had to shake her on multiple occasions to remind her that daylight meant it was time to get up. She'd periodically done the same thing with Santana since they were little kids and she had to smile at how her mom dealt with Maria in the exact same way she did.
"What am I," she growled, "supposed to do, while you are showering Anna? Twiddle my thumbs and pray for world peace?"
Anna put the flat of her palms on her hips. "That isn't very Catholic of you."
"If it's not Sunday, I'm not religious," Maria spouted out angrily, a lilt of sarcasm in her voice.
"Oh, I'm telling Father Schulte you said that when we get back," Anna teased. She turned away to gather clothes from her bag and went towards the bathroom.
Brittany watched her mom go and then laughed, falling backwards onto the ground. Santana followed her onto the floor and lay down beside her. Their arms and legs were touching as the both stared soundlessly into the speckled ceiling, both contemplating their days.
Brittany seamlessly broke into their daydream, asking, "Do you think we'll act like that when we're older?"
Santana huffed, not wanting to be reminded that their moms had a relationship, because even if that wasn't what Brittany directly asked, she had to then wonder what they would be like if a relationship had still been the case.
"Probably exactly the same," she grumbled, rolling her eyes over to Brittany. When they locked onto each others gaze, she smiled. "Except we get to make-out afterwards."
"It's cookies and ice cream!"
Santana and Maria were halfway through their walk to the school when she stopped in her tracks coming up on a truck with Chunk-n-Chip written across the side. They were far from being late—it was only nine o' clock—and if she was presented with the opportunity to enjoy cookies and ice cream, she wouldn't pass it up.
"Santana, no," her mom said, checking her watch for at least the eighth time while they were walking. For someone who insisted to keep their eyes up at all times on a busy sidewalk, she didn't do much of it herself.
"Please…"
Maria grunted. "It's nine in the morning."
"Please." Her face was stoic, devised, and determined.
"You're acting like a child."
She paused and sighed dramatically. Her eyes scanned the sidewalk and she pouted at a guy who walked past her with an ice cream sandwich, two cookies as the bun. If she hadn't been 'in the moment' her mouth probably would have been watering.
"Please."
Maria rolled her eyes in Lopez fashion and pulled her purse around in front of her. "Fine."
Santana fist pumped and the bracelet Brittany asked her to wear fell around her elbow. It was a weird insistence, but if she could give her girlfriend something to put her mind at ease while they spent the day apart, she'd do it no questions asked.
They both scoured the menu—essentially the side of a truck—and ordered their food. Santana stuck with the 'Old-School', which was just vanilla ice cream between two chocolate chips, and Maria had the 'Goober-Doober' which was Neapolitan between chocolate and sugar cookies. For the last few blocks to the school, they were silent and entertained themselves with the desserts.
The Musicians Institute, a three-story, grey building with a giant MI logo marking the center of the top floor, sat in between a café and a sports bar. It didn't look much like a school, but that alone made it appeal more to Santana. She couldn't imagine waking up every day and going there, calling it college. But she had seen pictures and testimonials that raved about the faculty and facilities; appearances didn't deter her so easily.
"Not what you were expecting," Maria asked, in a weird strain of voice.
Santana shrugged. "When something in my life happens that I expect, you'll be the first to know."
She glanced at her mother and lifted her lips into a smile that Maria returned suitably. They both finished off their ice cream and tossed the trash into a garbage can outside the café next door. The front gate of the school was open with a large inviting sign that said Visitors Welcome and they continued inside, following signs to the administrative offices. There was already a scattering of other kids walking around either by themselves, in pairs, or with parents. Santana tried to scope some of them out as they walked into the office to figure out if any of them seemed around her age and would make suitable friends.
Inside the central office, a large open lobby with three sets of desks all interlinked across the center of the room, they were directed around by intended major. At the far end, Santana saw a spindly haired woman crossing off something on a clipboard in front of the Independent Artist banner tacked above the desk. The color scheme seemed to be red and black, very similar to the McKinley theme. She internally groaned at having to be stuck with the same colors for the rest of her life but then remembered as a non-formal institution, they wouldn't have organized sports or mascots to cheer for.
Maria approached the desk and smiled warmly at the attendant. "Hello. We're checking in for Santana Lopez."
The woman, wearing a nametag that read Sarah, glanced up at the two of them and then sorted through papers on her desk.
"I assume you've read over our campus tour procedure." Sarah handed Santana a map and pointed to a big arrow that showed where they were. "If you enter a classroom, remain in the back and keep quiet. All of the teachers and students are aware of visitor days, so they will have no problem entertaining non-interruptive guests. You are allowed in any building with regular classroom facilities, including the lunch room and gym."
"Wait, gym?" Santana asked. Why did a school full of musicians need a gym?
"Correct. We employ a physical trainer who teaches a few health classes including weight training and nutrition to students who are in need of or desire a regulated diet."
She snickered at that term. There wouldn't be a chance in hell that she'd need someone else to regulate her food intake or exercise schedule. Coach Sylvester had pretty much ruined their chances of thriving under any less intensive workout routines either way.
"Ms. Washington also teaches an introductory jazz history class and is an admissions counselor. You'll come to find that a lot of the faculty here are immensely well-rounded individuals who will try to encourage you to develop in the same way." Sarah smiled and stamped a form on the desk in front of her. She handed an orange folder to Maria and pointed across the room to another exit. "I hope you enjoy yourselves and we'll be seeing you in the fall."
Maria and Santana both nodded to the woman and took their time leaving the room to check out some of their other services the offices provided. Santana wanted to learn where she'd need to go in any circumstance and she noted the financial office, the administration hallway, and the counselors. She tried to memorize all of their locations so when she got there in five months, she'd know it already.
"Ready to go, mija?" Her mom led her through the doors and into the courtyard-esque walkway to start their exploration.
xx
Meanwhile, Brittany was sitting with Anna, warming down from her audition. She'd done phenomenally, better than she'd done practicing with Rachel and Santana just two nights before hand. The instructor seemed impressed as well, giving her an encouraging smile and pat on the back. The rest of the girls waiting complemented her as they left the room and she felt inspired that they weren't putting her down or treating her like crap for being good. She hoped for that kind of reception if she was lucky enough to be admitted in the long run. Santana would be there to support her every step of the way, but she need classmates who would do the same and she felt like there she could get that.
Anna had her hands on Brittany's shoulders, massaging the skin effectively. Her mom used to do that for every one of her dance solos in recitals over the years and she hadn't ever stopped appreciated them. It was just that when she got older, Anna understood when to back off and leave her be. But that massage wasn't to help her from what she had just done, but for what she was about to do.
"Don't be nervous," Anna told her softly.
"Already am…"
They were sitting in the waiting room of an admissions counselor's office, a room with stark white walls and forest green carpeting. Brittany sat on the floor in front of her mom's chair, letting her try to work on a particularly tight knot in her shoulder blade; one that hadn't appeared until they left the studio and entered the offices. Her mind kept processing the hundreds of things they could possibly say that would keep her out of the school.
"Brittany Pierce?"
A man with dark skin and dark hair snagged their attention from the door Brittany's been staring at for the last ten minutes. He managed to open the door and sneak out without her noticing and she groaned at her own lack of concentration. "I'm Evan Smithson, your admissions counselor." He was grinning with white, pearly teeth on full display and Brittany felt that had to be a good omen. If she were about to receive a rejection, she figured he would have the decency to at least look glum about it.
"Yeah," she said, standing up. Her legs bent weird and she almost plummeted backwards into Anna, but she caught herself on the arm of the chair. Mr. Smithson laughed and Brittany could feel her face getting hot. "Sorry."
He shook his head. "Don't be. From what Wendy told me, you're incredibly graceful and strong on your feet. I guess I can't hold what happens when you're off your feet against you." Evan winked and she chuckled at his attempt to make her feel better. "Shall we have at it then?" His arm extended into his office and directed Brittany and Anna inside.
Once inside, they both sat down in plush chairs that were significantly more comfortable than the chairs (and floor) they'd sat on out in the waiting room. Brittany rocked from side to side in enjoyment at the tiny bounce in the seat until Anna glanced at her seriously and she straightened up. That's when she remembered that the outcome of the conversation she was about to have would decide the next four years of her life.
Mr. Smithson took a seat around the desk and shuffled through papers on his desk. He looked to be in his mid-thirties and had a curly scruff on his cheeks. Brittany didn't think if she saw him somewhere on the street she could guess he was part of a college faculty. That alone gave her a sense of the place where she'd be going to school and she expected a lot more of the unexpected to hit her once she actually went there. And that excited her more than it scared her.
"So, Brittany. You're a senior in," he checked his papers, "Lima, Ohio. Tell me what kind of things you are involved in."
Brittany smiled as warm as she could. "We'll I've been a cheerleader all four years of high school, except for a tiny bit of junior year when we had to quit for a couple months because of Coach Sylvester's problem with the glee club. I really didn't want to but my friends were all saying glee club was more important and I kind of agreed with them, so we quit."
Anna cleared her throat and it distracted her for a second. She glanced up and saw that he wasn't bored by her ramblings, but instead was staring at her in wonderment. "Also, I'm in glee club. I'm one of the more featured dancers. I've been dancing since I was five, in lots of studios and stuff. I've been in a bunch of competitions and oh," she grinned, "I ride motocross. Not much lately, but I am pretty good at it." She tugged at the bottom of her loose ponytail shyly, wondering if that was the kind of answer he wanted, or if she had just wasted three minutes of his time.
"Versatile," he commented, writing something down on a notepad in front of him. "That's a remarkable quality. A lot of people get so locked down into whatever they practice, they forget that there's a whole other world out there." Mr. Smithson looked up at her. "So you sing?"
Brittany smirked at the ground and shook her head delicately. "Not well. Backup more than anything."
"Would you like to sing well?"
"Singing is more of a hobby. Dancing is more my thing."
"So I've heard."
Brittany glanced at her mom and smiled, garnering one in return. She could tell her mom was trying to stay quiet and keep her questions silent until the proper time, and wordlessly thanked her for that. The audition she knew she could do on her own, but she wanted to try and do the meeting on her own as well.
Mr. Smithson cleared his throat and scattered some more papers across his desk. It reminded Brittany of Santana's desk at home with the clutter. He had about as much organization as Santana and that made her laugh inwardly.
"Generally, an audition and a meeting with the instructor is the regular process for admissions into the academy, Brittany, but yours is a special case as I've been told. There is the matter of your academics that can be a hindrance in your acceptance. I was also told you're aware of this, correct?"
Brittany tried not to groan. "I am."
He turned to Maria. "And you are as well?"
"Yes," she answered formally.
"Looking over a graph that was attached to your student file," he pulled one paper to the top, "sent as 'additive-material' from Sue Sylvester, I see your grades have been improving."
Brittany furrowed her brow in confusion. Had Coach Sue intercepted her school records and sent something to give her interview a boost? It seemed plausible when she recalled her coach saying that loyal Cheerio's would always be rewarded. She just assumed that meant only while they were still Cheerio's.
"Did you ask Sue to send that," Anna asked Brittany.
"No," she answered honestly. She wouldn't even think to ask for that kind of information, let alone request someone send it for her.
"She must have a special interest in you," Mr. Smithson said. "We see that kind of thing all the time. Certain instructors like to provide backup for their most promising students. In any case, the information is pretty valuable to us here. What steps have you been taking to improve her grades?"
His question was directed at Anna more than Brittany and she put her hands up in surrender. "I had nothing to do with it. When she realized her grades were troubling, she started getting help on her own."
Mr. Smithson glanced back at her. "Would you mind me asking where you got this kind of help? I'm just impressed that you've raised a grade point average that was in the ones to almost a two point seven."
"My friends have just been helping me study," she told him. "My one friend is second in our class, and she helps me the most. I didn't know there's been that much of a change."
"Well that sounds like that'd do it pretty easily," he commented, fumbling with the graph again. "However, there still is the matter of your average not meeting our required standard."
"Which is," Anna asked.
"A three point o'."
There had to be a chance to make up that point four difference and Brittany knew what it was. The damn thing she'd been struggling with most of all. The one class that no matter how hard she studied, or how much she understood, she couldn't test well on. Quinn could make a thousand practice tests and Santana could give her a million good job kisses but that didn't make her do better. She had to do better.
"It's my math grade," Brittany told the both of them. "Does that chart show that grade by itself?"
Mr. Smithson nodded and held it up for them to see. There were six lines, five of which had a steady increase. The sixth did increase, but at about the third of the rate the others were inclining.
"If I got that grade up, how much of a difference would it make?"
He set the paper down and opened the laptop on his desk. They all sat there for a few minutes as he typed through screens and waited for things to load on the computer. She figured he was trying to pull up some program that would tell him the answer to her question and she reminded herself to keep calm. If he could tell her that there was a chance, she would make it happen. No matter what. The interview was making her realize how badly she wanted to end up at that school, in California, pursuing her dream.
His face changed expressions drastically and all of her enthusiasm drained as he glanced first at the desk and then back at her. "Brittany, based on the systematic change of your math grade over the course of the year, it's not a likely accomplishment."
That seemed to fire Anna up. "What grade would she have to make?"
"At least a high C. But that's only if another grade goes up as well."
What could she also try harder in? She knew there was a huge history project coming up that was worth a ton of points if she remembered correctly. If she could get a good enough grade on that, maybe she could raise her C in that class to a B.
"What about my history class?"
He typed more into the computer and bit the inside of his cheek as he studied whatever statistics he was looking at. "If you can get that grade to go up one letter and raise your math grade, I believe that will put you just over a three."
Brittany's mouth curved into a smile; maybe in a little too much of a hurry from the look on Mr. Smithson's face.
"You know this isn't an easy thing to do in just two months time, Brittany, right? You'd have to pretty much ace all of your quizzes in both classes and not get less than a B minus on every test."
"I think I can do it," she said.
Mr. Smithson studied her, for a long couple minutes. They all kind of sat there in the wake of her admission and heard how true the words were. Brittany felt that if she really wanted it to happen, really wanted it, she could have it.
"I want you to," he finally said. "I think you'd be a wonderful fit here. This tenacity isn't something you see every day and I would feel grateful to work with you on a daily basis."
"Thank you," Anna said with a smile on her face. Brittany could tell how pleased she was with how the conversation had gone and she grinned at Mr. Smithson.
"Thanks," she told him, extending her hand for him to shake—something Sue had taught them all at a random morning Cheerio's excursion in the woods behind the school. She wanted to remember to thank her coach for sending that piece of paper, the one that had basically given her an opportunity.
He stood up with them and escorted them to the door. "Good luck, Ms. Pierce. I hope to see you in the fall."
Brittany smiled from her mother back to Mr. Smithson and felt like she had actually accomplished something good.
"Yeah, me too."
xx
Santana was in absolute love with the campus. She and her mom investigated every inch of the school for an hour before they took a half hour break to eat in the cafeteria. The food choice was absolutely incredible and for her that was a big make-or-break detail. Another pair of mother and daughter had accompanied them for a large chunk of their tour and Santana had even struck up good conversation the girl who was a piano player. They had exchanged numbers and expressed interest in meeting up when they both got there in the fall. And Santana hadn't actually faked her excitement with the girl; she actually thought she would make a decent friend.
But as much fun as she was having, she had concern about Brittany's interview in the back of her mind. She hated the idea of having a wonderful day of her own when she could meet up with Brittany later and find out her dreams had been crushed. Maria had caught her sulking a few times and simply threw an arm around her shoulder and tried to perk her up.
Most of the time it worked, but not the last time when she had been peering into the booth of a recording studio, hearing a dance beat that reminded her of Brittany's audition song. The guy in the recording space looked a little older than her and was playing an electric drum set. There were three girls in the booth mixing on a board that vastly emaciated the one Rachel had set up in her basement.
Maria had said she need to pee and left Santana to stare after the production process with observant eyes, wondering if Brittany had mastered the final turn in her routine that had been giving her trouble. She put a hand on the glass and tapped her fingernails along to the beat gently, trying not to disturb anyone inside. She couldn't help her instinctual rhythm to hum along either.
"Ex-boyfriend?" A voice behind her asked.
Santana spun on her heels and saw a tall, dark-skinned woman with cropped, light-brown hair. Her stature almost reminded Santana of a certain Sue Sylvester persona. Although, the woman wasn't wearing a full track suit, but rather a navy, cotton track-jacket, and candy-red jogging shorts. Santana didn't feel intimidated by her, but actually felt a little more at home with her athletic appearance.
"God, no."
The lady studied her for a second and then peeked around her into the booth. "Ex-girlfriend then?"
Santana blanched, a little perturbed that someone could immediately pick up on that distinction from her infliction when she said 'no.'
She laughed breathlessly. "No."
"Damn," the woman said with a smile. "I'm usually pretty good at this kind of thing."
Santana smirked at her and extended a hand in Sylvester-fashion. "I'm a new student. Santana Lopez."
The woman smiled and took her hand in a firm grip, shaking it twice. "Roz Washington. I'm an admissions counselor for letters L-through-R."
Santana shook her head at the coincidence. "That means you had me."
"It would seem that way wouldn't it," Roz said, smirking. She had a cheeky confidence that Santana respected. That was her kind of people; the ones who knew how good they were and didn't need to prove it with anything other than the way they held themselves. "Lopez. Lopez. I feel like I remember your name."
"I was a—"
"You're an independent artist major. You submitted that song. 'Who I Wanna Be,' right?"
Santana blushed at being remembered by her song, and a little at the title being said in conversation. "Yup."
Roz studied her again, a little mockingly. "Sweetie, why are you embarrassed? We passed that song around the office for a week, trying to find something we didn't like. Everyone loved it."
Her heart thrummed with that knowledge. Those weren't just her friends' and family's opinion on a song she had produced in the basement of someone's house; they were real opinions from qualified individuals who not only thought it was acceptable, they actually liked it.
"Yeah?" she asked nervously.
"Oh yeah, hun. We all finally decided the background vocals were a little too echo-ey and the lyrics were a tiny bit forced in a few places, but otherwise we thought it was without a doubt the best one we'd got this year. And trust me, we had some stinkers. There was one called 'Put My Love In You,' and let me tell you," she shook her head back and forth, "we thought the name was bad enough. Then we realized it was a rap."
Santana laughed outright and put a hand on her side to quell the ache that grew after sharing a laugh with Roz. "Oh wow, that sounds horrible."
"It sucked," Roz said. "Luckily we had a few other ones to make up for the bad ones. Yours specifically stood out."
Maria appeared on Santana's side and looked between the two of them, taking in the joy on both of their faces. She seemed relieved to see Santana laughing again after the last half hour of pouting. She couldn't blame her mom though; it couldn't have been fun to drag around a buzz kill all afternoon.
"And is this Mama Lopez," Roz asked Maria, smirking.
Santana laughed and nodded. "Yup, good ol' Mama Lopez."
Maria looked a little annoyed but extended her hand for Roz to shake. They exchanged pleasant smile and then Maria turned to Santana.
"And who's this," Maria asked nicely.
"This is Ms. Washington, my admissions counselor."
"I was just letting your girl here know that we all loved her submission. She's the brightest of the bunch this year."
Maria's smile doubled and she more eagerly welcomed Roz's company. "Really?"
"Mhm. We were all wondering how we haven't heard of her yet. In some upstart, youngsters talent competition or some mumbo jumbo like that."
"You wouldn't have," Maria said, "not unless you follow show choir competitions."
Roz shook her head. "We do actually, that's why I was confused. Where do y'all come from?"
"Ohio," Santana said drearily. She put as much indifference into her answer as manageable.
"Oh," Roz said, tapping a finger against her lips. "Did you just move out here?"
"No," Maria said. "Just visiting."
Roz glanced back and forth between the two of them in confusion and then jutted her hip out to the side, perching her hand on it. "You are aware this school has no on-site housing, right?"
Santana's stomach dropped. Why hadn't she thought about that in any of her research? She turned to her mom and picked her body language apart for some idea that she knew about it. There was some sort of restrained hesitance in Maria's composure that Santana didn't understand, but she couldn't take the time to figure it out; her future had just been derailed because she had nowhere to live. Maybe her mom did know, and that's why Anna had suggested her and Brittany live in a shared commuter dorm, whatever or wherever that was.
She didn't know, but her mom didn't seem bothered.
"We're aware," she said, straightening her purse over her arm.
"Mhm," Santana agreed falsely.
"Good. Well I hope you end up here in the fall, Lopez. We could use some talent like you. It won't go to waste here. Maybe I'll even get you to take my jazz history class, or a weight-training one."
Santana put off her confusion for a second to take in that information and then couldn't stop smirking. "Wait, you're the personal trainer?"
Roz didn't seem pleased with whatever Santana was implying. "Yes and I'll whip you're sweet little behind into shape in no time with that kind of attitude to compete with."
"Trust me," Santana said. "I don't need anyone to whip me into shape. I got a lock on it."
"We'll see, Lopez. Come November you'll be begging for someone to saw off that freshman pudge."
Maria snickered and Santana shot her a glare. "Not a chance."
Roz nodded and gave her a wink. "I hope the rest of your senior year is good, girl. I'll see you soon."
"Yeah," Santana said, nodding. "You, too."
Roz turned and walked down the long hallway, passing through a doorway into what looked like a classroom. Santana wondered if they could go after her and sit in on what she was teaching, but when she felt her mother's insistent hand on her arm, she knew they wouldn't be staying much longer.
"I'm starving, sweetie. Do you want to go back to the hotel and see if Brittany and Anna are already back?"
She remembered the housing situation when Brittany was brought up again. "Mama, what about where I'm gonna—"
"Let's get back, Santana. We'll talk about it later. I'm sure Brittany is dying to see you."
Santana brightened with the prospect of finally seeing Brittany. Even if her mom had completely side-swiped what was, in her opinion, a very important subject. Plus she was hungry too and couldn't wait to find out what they'd be eating for dinner since Anna said she'd make them reservations somewhere.
Maria wrapped her arm around Santana and walked them through the courtyard towards the entrance. "So did you like it?"
"I loved it," Santana said. She didn't have to worry about hating where she went to school after spending all day discovering the life she had waiting for her there.
The only thing she had to worry about was Brittany, but she had a good feeling that nothing could stop them from ending up together, not after everything they'd been through. If school was the only thing stopping Brittany from joining her, then they'd beat it together, one way or another.
Brittany didn't let Santana go for ten minutes when they first saw each other. Someone would think they hadn't seen each other in years, rather than hours, but on days as important as that, it felt that long. After those ten minutes, Brittany stayed in Santana's lap on the bed in the hotel while they watched TV and waited for the taxi to get there. They were heading to Dominick's, an Italian restaurant and bar in West Hollywood. It was a twenty minute car ride from the hotel, Anna read off Google Maps, and they all spent their remaining time getting ready.
Santana and Brittany had already changed, once Anna told them it was a formal restaurant, both into dresses; Santana's a brown, plaid cutout dress, resting at mid-thigh and Brittany in a black, flutter sleeve dress that stopped around the same area as Santana's. They were both resting on the bed after doing their makeup and watching a rerun of Keeping up with the Kardashians, neither one of them really entertained with it.
They had both already discussed what had happened during both of their days—both praising each other for their successful song and dance—lamenting on the parts that were furthering their challenges of trying to simply be with each other and being happy. Santana encouraged Brittany that she could raise the grades she needed and Brittany reassured Santana that they would find somewhere for her to live.
The taxi arrived and escorted them all through the city in dusk towards dinner. They were all pretty much in a uniform state of hunger and didn't have much to say to each other besides pointing out familiar stores and restaurants. Brittany was happy to realize that while the scenery of Los Angeles was incredibly different from the hills and dirt of Lima, the bustle of the city remained similar to what she had experienced in New York, Columbus, and Miami. It was still different, but similar enough to remind her that they could live there without being totally out of place.
Once inside Dominicks, a moderate bistro filled with categories of people enjoying their dinners in various states of moods. The hostess led them through the building and out onto a patio that Brittany found herself in awe of. There was plant life growing throughout the walls and a tree not five feet from their table. The industrial supports holding the ceiling up were littered with light bulbs, more orange than yellow that gave the room a rich coloring all around them. They were seated at a square, white-clothed table for four with one chair on any side. Santana took the one adjacent to her on the left and her mom sat across, Maria doing the same with Santana. They were each handed menus and their waitress, an older brunette, took their drink orders.
Everyone at the table ordered from two forms of water—with lemon or without—and all settled in to scour the menu. Brittany read over the list and let her mouth water at all the possible meals. She glanced over and saw Santana licking her lips as well.
After they got their drinks, everyone ordered—Santana had rigatoni, Brittany had steak, Anna chose a grilled Panini, and Maria picked spaghetti and meatballs—and then let their waitress leave to put in the order.
"This place is beautiful," Anna commented, admiring the wall of potted plants.
"It's so pretty," Brittany said. She loved the feeling of the place and the warmth it had from inside to out on the patio.
"How did your audition go, Brittany," Maria asked, changing the subject.
"Great. I'm pretty sure it was better than any time I've done it before."
Anna nodded and smiled across the table at her daughter. "She gets better every time I see her dance."
"That's kind of the point," Brittany joked. Her mom stuck her tongue out and she did the same.
"What about you Santana? Did you like the Musician's Institute?" Anna asked.
"I loved it," Santana said, eyes gleaming. Brittany didn't think she could even try faking that much enthusiasm. She knew Santana must have really enjoyed her day for it to have that much of an impact on her. "I couldn't imagine going anywhere else now."
"You could always go to Ohio State and major in dentistry," Maria teased, sipping on her water.
Brittany gagged. "Ew, other people's teeth are gross."
"Don't forget you had that month where you refused to brush your teeth, Brittany," Anna said. "Until we convinced you soda wasn't a suitable alternative."
Santana grabbed her chin. "I'm glad we weren't kissing at that point in your life."
Brittany pouted until Santana leaned over and pecked her on the lips.
"Hell, I'd have done it anyway."
"Well isn't that adorable," Anna said, "and gross."
"Yeah, yeah." Suddenly Santana's attention turned on her mother and Brittany could tell the conversation wouldn't be as light-hearted anymore.
"Mama? Where am I supposed to live here?"
Maria took in her daughter's full appearance before turning on Anna and raising her eyebrow. Brittany kept her attention between the two of them even as their food was being set down in front of them. Everyone could sense the tension enough that none of them dared eating, even Santana.
"Honey," Maria started. She flipped out her napkin over her lap and patted it down across her legs. "This was supposed to be a graduation present, but we hadn't known that you'd find out about the housing thing before then."
"Who are we? You and dad?"
Maria nodded her head to the side. "Well yes, but also Anna and Tony."
Brittany looked at her mom and figured it out before Santana did. "It's my present too, isn't it?"
"Yes, Brittany."
"So what is it," Santana asked, eagerly.
Maria checked with Anna if she had permission to tell their secret, and from the look Brittany gathered from her mom's face, she got the go ahead. "We've been talking about it since the two of you decided to move out here and we decided that while you'll both be in the same city, we'd feel a lot safer with the two of you living under the same roof. In an apartment together."
Brittany's eyes widened when she realized what that implied. That she and Santana could live together in the city. They didn't have to worry about roommates, or getting from dorm to dorm to see each other. Every day they could come home and be with each other no matter what.
Santana didn't seem happy, but more conflicted.
"How are we going to pay for that?" she asked.
"You're not going to," Anna told her. "We're going to go half on all of your living expenses for the school year."
"But what's the catch?"
Brittany thought, Of course there'd be a catch.
"The catch is that if we are paying your rent, you both need jobs to pay for everything else. Food, transportation, all those kinds of things. You have to prove to us that you know this is a privilege and won't take advantage of the gift we're giving you."
"So all we have to do is get jobs," Santana said.
"Mhm," Anna answered. "From September to May. Every year you live here."
Santana's face erupted with happiness and Brittany couldn't help but accompany her. "Hell yes, this is the sweetest present I've gotten in my whole life." Santana turned to her and grabbed one of her hands. "Babe, we get to live together."
"Yeah, I heard," Brittany joked.
Santana ignored her and pulled her into a kiss, carefully avoiding both of their plates. There was such joy in the buzz of Santana's lips as she pressed into Brittany, and it occurred to her that they hadn't even eaten dinner yet. Brittany broke away and she pointed at their food. "Let's eat."
Santana stared down at her meal like it was the first time she'd seen it, and Brittany figured with her confusion and then explosion of excitement over their moms' present, it very well might've been.
On Sunday, their last day, after spending a few morning hours in the pool surrounded by hundreds of other guests, Maria suggested they visit the Santa Monica Pier. Anna insisted that they were all sick of travelling in the back of taxis and she left with her purse to find a rent a car. She managed to find on that would rent it to her until six the next morning, where someone from the agency would pick it up from the airport. Santana heard Anna and Maria discuss the ungodly extra fee that had cost her but neither one of them seemed to mind all that much.
It was a long car ride in their rented Chevy Aveo from the hotel to the beach in the traffic, but Santana took the time to show Brittany the counselor who reminded her of Coach Sylvester on her iPhone. They laughed at the similarity and then Brittany showed her the guy who had conducted her interview and they found out he was a retired professional dancer who had toured with Madonna and Prince in the eighties. Anna made a comment about how cute he was back then and endured glares from Maria, Santana, and her daughter.
When they got to the pier, they walked around on the sunny boardwalk for about an hour and then went down onto the beach. Crowded would have been an understatement as Santana tried to find an open enough space for her and Brittany to go through and stick their feet in the water. Brittany hadn't ever seen the Pacific Ocean before and Santana wanted them to share that experience together. After a comment about how cold the water was and one saying that she didn't see how much different it was from the Atlantic, Santana grabbed her hand and pulled them away. She didn't have enough of an opportunity to see the teasing smirk on Brittany's face.
Maria directed them to the car when they all declared hunger and they headed towards the PCH in search of a restaurant Santana had gone to on her previous trip to California when she was visiting her future home. Little did she know that in six years, she'd be taking the same kind of trip again with more of a definite outcome.
A tiny place off the highway called Malibu Seafood stood out from the road and Maria turned into the parking lot, careful of the cars pulling out of parking spots and the driveway itself. They were all starving and couldn't get inside fast enough. Luck enough, their food came fast and they were all tired out from their day to have much of a conversation. It was a peaceful end to the trip and Santana was happy nothing overly tragic had happened.
That was until she took a look at Brittany's forlorn glance outside one of the windows that spread over the ocean in the distance. Night had fallen outside, but there were enough lights from the highway to illuminate the tiny patch of sand that separated the road from the water. Santana could tell something wasn't right, but she didn't want to bring something up in front of their moms if Brittany didn't want it announced. She settled for devising a plan to give them a moment alone.
"Hey, are you two in a hurry," she asked Anna and her mom.
They both looked at each other and then shook their heads with indifferent expressions.
"Would you mind if Brittany and I went outside for a little and saw the ocean again?" Brittany glanced up back at her and she feigned a smile. "It's totally cooler at night."
Brittany nodded and then started to clean up her plate. Anna gave Santana a knowing glance and then shared one with Maria who waved them away. "Be careful. I'll text you when we're ready to go, okay?"
"Yup. Don't rush."
Santana cleaned up her plate and snagged Brittany's hand, pulling her from the restaurant quickly, but gently. Brittany followed her dutifully, an amused smile on her face replacing the saddened gaze she had before.
They went outside and approached the side of the road. Traffic had thinned out since they got to the restaurant and they only had to wait for three or four cars to go by before they could run across the road onto the dirty sand. It wasn't a proper beach; just a tiny patch of twig-ridden sand under a hill that led up to the highway they had just ran across. They walked a few more steps until Brittany slid her flip-flops off, letting go of Santana's hand, and walked ankle-deep into the water.
She was surrounded by moonlight in Santana's view, blonde hair falling past her shoulders onto bare arms. Her milky legs were reflected in the dark water as she walked back and forth through the minuscule waves crashing around her feet. Santana thought she looked beautiful, but once again sad.
"What's wrong, B?"
Brittany bit her lip and frowned at the sky. She didn't seem to like whatever was on her mind about as much as Santana expected to like it.
"What if we don't make it?" Brittany said quietly.
Santana approached her timidly and wrapped both arms around her waist. She laid her head down on Brittany's shoulder and titled it backward to see her face. "We'll get here, I promise."
Brittany paused and shut her eyes, shaking her head back and forth slowly. "That's not what I mean."
Santana didn't like when Brittany acted like that. Her mind was made up about something and the more she danced around the subject, the more anxious it made Santana. She wanted to know what Brittany was thinking, and not have to guess.
"What then, Brittany?"
Brittany didn't look at her but she pointedly ran her fingers along Santana's arms.
"What if we break up after we're here? When we live together? This plan makes sense; that our parents will pay, but that's only if we're together. What happens if we aren't anymore?"
As much as it hurt Santana to consider that Brittany was wondering about their relationship's fragility, she could understand the concern. It was something she hadn't even considered. What did happen if they were no longer together? The simple answer seemed to be either that they would tough it out in the same house for the rest of the school year or they would separate and their families would pay for their own apartments. She told Brittany that and endured another shaken head.
"What if we have to live together and we aren't in love anymore? Can you handle that?"
"Why are you thinking about this, Britt?" She really wanted to know what could have brought that u p.
Brittany finally looked at her, almost in tears. "Our moms moved to the city when they were our age, San. What if the same thing that happens to them, happens to us?"
Santana couldn't help but let herself tear up as well. It felt like Brittany was grasping at any way to find a flaw in their arrangement. Santana knew she wasn't trying to hurt her, but must have been simply scared. And she wanted to find a way to tear that feeling away from her.
"Unless your dad has been secretly harboring homophobic feelings towards me since the beginning, I don't think we have to worry about that happening to us," she tried. Brittany smiled, but it fell away. "Brittany I can't tell you what's gonna happen. I think the shit that's happened to us so far should prove that to you, but I can tell you that no matter what we're going to be in each other's lives. Even if we don't end up married, with two kids, and still maintaining rocking bods like I dream about, we'll still have each other. I can't imagine my life without you in it."
Brittany's smile lasted longer than a few seconds that time and Santana figured it had worked in calming Brittany down. All the things she said were the truth, but they weren't things she'd ever wanted to admit. She didn't want to say that she had already contemplated everything Brittany was worried about over and over again for months. But if Brittany needed to hear it from her, she'd tell her over and again that there was no way they'd leave each other. Not entirely. It was their friendship that brought them together, and it was their friendship that would survive in the end.
"Thanks, Santana."
"I love you, B."
"I love you too."
Brittany leaned down into Santana's space and kissed her, lips pressuring against her intimately. If Santana didn't know any better, she'd think Brittany was trying to initiate something with her.
"San," Brittany breathed against her lips.
"Hmm?" She asked and then kissed Brittany again, passionately thrumming up her blood pressure.
"This is our first time alone all weekend," Brittany said, kissing under her ear where she breathed hot air against the skin.
Santana felt a jolt of electricity reach her center and she pulled away to survey the beach. "Britt, there's not much shade here."
"We're under a hill. The only way someone could see us is if they walk along the beach…"
"But it's dirty…"
Brittany's eyes lit up in the moonlight. "That's the point, Santana."
"No," Santana laughed, "I meant the beach."
"You are being such a tease," Brittany said. She grabbed onto Santana's hips and pulled her close, their bodies delicately sliding up against each other. "You know how little I like being teased." She kissed Santana again, pushing her tongue past soft lips to reach its companion. Santana moaned deep in her throat, apparently spurning Brittany on by the rough grip on her side, a hand on hot skin underneath her tanktop.
"If you proposition me in more public places," Santana breathed between kisses, "I'm gonna start to think," another kiss, "you're a bit of an exhibitionist."
Brittany nodded into her, their noses brushing together. "Is that a problem?"
"Not at all," Santana said diving in for another kiss.
They fell onto each other on the grimy beach littered with twigs, rocks, and the occasional empty water bottle. It was a far cry from their comfortable hotel room, but any opportunity together they'd take, calling it an experience to recount on later days when they could laugh about their young love. Santana wondered if they would make it to those days often, and apparently, so did Brittany, But what she knew to understand was that their short lives had given them both something that a lot of people searched years for.
It wasn't something to take for granted. And if sex on a dirty beach on the side of a mildly populated highway meant she appreciated what life had given her, Santana would take it any day for the rest of her life.
A/N: Thanks for reading :)
