CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Every Rose Has Its Thorn

Camp Black Bear, Dunkirk, NY: Tuesday, August 14

"So, the plan is for me to move my stuff in next Wednesday and then while I'm on campus I will pick up all of my books for class and then take care of a few financial aid-related things. Then, I'll come back home and stay for the rest of the weekend. Dave's having an end of the summer cookout at his house so I thought we'd make an appearance then maybe we could go to a movie or hang out by your pool – I'm not too picky." Santana cradled her phone between her ear and shoulder. She crouched down on the floor and reached her hand under her bed. She felt around until her fingers came in contact with her suitcase. She pulled it out and hoisted it onto her bed.

Packing was her least favorite thing to do in the world. Since she, Dave, Kurt, and Finn were heading back to Lima first thing Saturday morning, she figured it was best to pack now when she had some free time rather than wait to the last minute. Leaving camp was going to be bittersweet but she was excited to start the next chapter of her life. She had hoped to convince Dave to come to Ohio State with her but as of a few weeks ago he had announced that he would be attending Northwestern University in Chicago. Though disappointed, Santana decided she now had an excuse to visit the Windy City.

Now that she would be going it alone, she figured it would be a good idea to introduce herself to her new roommate in hopes they would not have to spend too much time getting to know each other when they arrived on campus the following week. Doing a quick search on Facebook, Santana found her. Kira Tanaka, like her, was a cheerleader and also played softball. Kira, who was half-Japanese, half-black, had a boyfriend who she had been dating since freshman year of high school and a lot of pets, including four pit bulls, two cats, a parakeet and an iguana named Chewbacca. The two of them had exchanged a couple of messages online and Santana found her pleasant which was a relief because she had heard quite a few horror stories involving psycho roommates.

"Did you want to go with me next week?" Santana asked. "I thought maybe I could show you around campus. Maybe we could get something to eat while we're there. Oh, and I could get you an Ohio State hoodie from the bookstore." Santana paused to toss a few T-shirts into her open suitcase. "Britt-Britt?" She switched her phone over to her other ear. "You there?"

"I'm here." Her voice sounded far away.

Santana placed her finger in her other ear. "Brittany? I can barely here you."

Brittany cleared her throat. "Santana, I'm here."

"Oh," Santana said. "I thought I lost you there for a sec. So, as I was saying, you should come with me next week when I go to move my things in."

"Santana," Brittany spoke. "I have to tell you something?"

"Sure." Santana sat on the edge of her bed. "What's up?"

"I … I have something I need to tell you, but I don't know how to say it."

"Um, Britt – you know you can tell me anything. Is everything okay?" Santana held her breath as she waited for an answer. She heard Brittany sniff a couple of times and then she started to outright bawl. Santana suddenly stood up. "Britt – what's wrong? Why are you crying?"

In the entire time they had known each other, Santana had only seen Brittany cry maybe a handful of times. Brittany, for the most part, was one of the happiest people she had ever met. Somehow, while growing up, she had managed to hold onto the childlike innocence most of her peers had lost at some point prior to starting high school. One of the things Santana loved most about her was how pure her outlook on life was.

Santana's body shuddered, as if a cold wind had just blown past her. She squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed back the sizeable lump in her throat. "Brittany, whatever it is, you can tell me. I can handle it. I promise." Brittany choked back another sob.

"I kissed him," she said quietly. "It was a mistake, I mean it just happened and I didn't mean for it to happen, but we were hanging out after our class and we started talking about the old days, like when we used to date and he kissed me and I should have told him to stop but I didn't and I sort of kissed him back and … Santana, I'm so, so sorry. I was going to wait until you got home to tell you, but I just couldn't keep it in any longer. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Brittany went back to sobbing uncontrollably.

Santana looked down at her phone screen. If anyone asked, it was exactly 11 hours, 37 minutes and 15, no 16 seconds when her heart broke down the center. It started with what felt like a million tiny pins prickling her skin followed by barbed wire being wrapped tight around her organs. Then there was the sudden cold rushing through her veins as if she had fallen through thin ice into an icy depthless nothingness. Seconds, perhaps even minutes passed as she felt herself slipping further and further beneath the surface.

Santana flashed back to sophomore year – Biology class with Mr. Sasto with his stupid bowties and his stupid mustache and his stupid Johnny Bravo pompadour. She could see him standing at the front of the room, pacing back and forth in front of the chalkboard. It was Valentine's Day and for some reason he was talking about his fiancée, or rather his ex-fiancée who gave him back the engagement ring he gave her over the weekend. He was red-faced and going on and on about heartbreak and how the same part of the brain that activates when actual pain is felt is the same part of the brain that activates when experiencing heartbreak.

Back then Santana had written off his words as the ramblings of a pathetic man in his 30s who lived in his parents' basement but now she knew those words were true because Brittany's admission might as well have been a baseball bat to her kneecaps. An ultra-sharp pain on constant repeat.

"Santana." Brittany's voice was a sharp knife cutting through her malaise. She opened her eyes. Instead of her Biology teacher she saw her cabin, her bed. Her open suitcase. Moments earlier she had been too excited to get back home.

"Santana – are you still there?" Brittany's voice sounded so weak. So broken. Not even ten minutes ago Santana would have gone through the phone to comfort her.

"Who is he?" Santana spoke through gritted teeth. One Mississippi-Two Mississippi-Three Mississippi-Four-Mississippi-Five Mississippi-Six …

"Artie."

"Artie," Santana said. Artie. Artie? Artie Abrams?! Artie fucking Abrams.

"Santana, it was a mistake," Brittany sniffed. "I … I wish I could take it back. Please believe me."

Santana glared at her phone. She smashed her thumb against the "End Call" button. Her fingers closed in tight around the phone as a shrill, deafening sound erupted from her lungs. She reared back and flung the device across the room. It hit the wall on the opposite side of the cabin, shattering into pieces before falling to the floor. There was a loud slam. Santana looked up and saw Rosalia standing at the door. Her eyes were wide as she slowly looked from Santana to the remnants of her phone lying on the floor near her left foot.

"What did that phone ever do to you?" Rosalia asked.

Santana reached up and rubbed the back of her neck. "What are you doing here?"

Rosalia moved over towards her bed. "Um, I live here." She dropped down onto her bed which was covered in a pink and white-checked duvet. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

"I don't believe you."

"What's it to you?" Santana snapped. "Aren't you supposed to be at lunch?"

"I was about to call my mom but then I came across a crazy person. Seriously, why were you screaming?"

Santana looked down at her bare feet. She felt hot. She was glad she had decided to wear her hair down today. Her hair was basically a partition to hide her face from Rosalia's prying eyes. "You heard that?"

"The entire East Coast heard that." Rosalia sighed and said, "Look, I know I'm probably going to regret asking this but what's going on? And don't tell me it's nothing because thirty seconds ago I saw you turn into Naomi Campbell and you nearly hit me in the face with your phone. By the way, I think you're going to need a new phone."

Santana's shoulders slumped as she sat back down on her bed. "It's stupid."

Rosalia groaned and reached for the purple teddy bear sitting against her pillow. She brought it to her chest and wrapped her arms around it. "Look, a few months ago, you pulled me aside and told me I was a raging bitch."

Santana looked up. "I never called you a raging bitch."

"It was implied. Anyway, long story short, you were absolutely right. I was a wretched human being making everyone around me completely miserable." She squeezed her bear and looked over at Santana. "So, I've been trying out this whole being nice thing and I have to admit it's not so bad. However, in a couple of days, I'm heading back home and who knows, I might turn back into the old me the moment I land in Jersey. Now, I'm only going to ask you one more time – what is going on?"

Santana drew in a deep breath and exhaled. She pushed her suitcase over so that she could lie flat on her back. She stared up at the ceiling and briefly wondered what Brittany was doing. Had she tried to call her? Was she panicking because she could not get in touch with her? If she was then good. Of all people her Britt-Britt could have chosen to swap spit with she had chosen Artie.

"Stupid, stupid relationship stuff," she said.

"Did you get dumped or something?"

"No,. I wish it was as simple as that."

"Cheating?" Santana remained silent. "Did your girlfriend cheat on you? Look, I'm not trying to get all up in your business, but I've been down that road before and it sucks ass."

"It's different when you're older."

Rosalia scoffed. "Aren't you like four years older than me?"

"Three years."

"Three freakin' years. Big whoop!"

"It really is different. Brittany and I, we've had this thing since we first met each other. She just gets me. Sometimes I don't even have to say anything, and she knows exactly what I'm thinking. There's no other person in the world I have that kind of connection with."

"What about Dave?" Rosalia asked. "You two are practically joined at the hip."

"Yeah, Dave and I are close. Real close. But it's different. It's hard to explain."

Rosalia smiled. "I think I get it. I mean what you're describing, I've never had that with anyone before, but it sounds pretty awesome."

"It is pretty awesome," Santana said. "Or rather it was."

"You broke up?"

"No. I hung up on her right after she told me that she kissed this guy she used to date." She groaned. "Why of all people did it have to be him? Why couldn't it be someone I don't know?"

"Would that have changed anything?"

"I don't know. Maybe? At least I wouldn't be picturing the two of them kissing right now."

"At least she told you. I know it must suck hearing about your girlfriend kissing some other person but … isn't it better to know? I mean, what if she kissed this guy and she never told you about it and then a year from now you found out about it? Wouldn't that be like ten times worse?"

"I don't know," Santana repeated. "I imagine it couldn't feel any worse than what I'm feeling right now. This is exactly what I was trying to avoid."

Rosalia leaned forward. "What do you mean?"

"One of the counselors kissed me. We were playing Truth or Dare and one of the other counselors dared her to kiss me."

"So, is this what was happening all those nights I saw you sneaking out of here? P.S., you're like really bad at sneaking around. All of us heard you. We just didn't say anything about it."

"Well, I appreciate you not saying anything. I swear we weren't doing anything bad."

"Except daring each other to make out," Rosalia said with a laugh. "So, who was it? Was it Mel? She's so hot. Don't tell her I said that."

"I'm not going to tell you who it was. Doesn't matter anyway. What's done is done."

"So, this person who kissed you, why didn't you tell your girlfriend? I'm sure she would've understood. I mean it's Truth or Dare. The way we play it at home, everyone gets to take a turn hitting you with a paddle if you don't follow through on a dare."

"Well – I can't believe I'm even telling you this," Santana said. She sat up so that she was resting on her elbows. She looked across from her and saw Rosalia sitting on the edge of her bed, listening, waiting for her to continue. "I sort of kissed her back."

Rosalia's eyes widened. "Sort of kissed her back? Or definitely kissed her back?"

Santana sighed. "I – I definitely kissed her back. But I regretted it immediately and felt horrible about it for days. I wanted to tell her, but I talked to one of the counselors and she said that might make things worse. So, I just – I decided not to tell her."

Rosalia's eyes narrowed. She tapped her purple Converse sneaker against the floor. "Okay, just so I'm making sure I understand everything, you kissed one of the other counselors and didn't tell your girlfriend who just admitted to you that she kissed someone else – which you're super pissed about." She stood up and walked over to where Santana was seated. Rosalia crossed her arms and stared down at Santana. She shook her head and said, "You're such a hypocrite."

Santana's brow went up. "Excuse me?"

"You heard what I said. I can't believe you're sitting there bitching and moaning about your girlfriend cheating on you when you did the same exact thing."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh? Is it because I'm so young and I don't know what it's like?" Rosalia asked. "Well, let me tell you something. Yes, I may be young but I'm not a complete dumbass. Unlike you."

Santana stood up and narrowed the gap between the two of them. They were nearly the same height. Santana stared into her dark brown eyes and saw something all too familiar. It was something she had recognized the moment she laid eyes on Rosalia Gomez, a few months earlier. When Kurt and Finn tried to point it out to her she had been adamant that they were wrong. The similarities between the two of them had not been more apparent and she could no longer ignore the fact that the very things she disliked about the girl in front of her were the same things she quietly loathed about herself.

"Get out," she whispered.

"What? I live here."

"I said," Santana placed a vise-like grip around her arm and began dragging her towards the door. "Get out." She managed to drag the younger girl across the room until she reached the door. She reached for the knob and yanked open the door. In one swift motion, she pushed Rosalia through the door and then shut and locked it. Placing her back to the door she closed her eyes and attempted to drown out the banging coming from the other side. She looked down and saw her phone in pieces and the last bit of the dam holding back her tears broke.

Camp Black Bear, Dunkirk, NY: Wednesday, August 15

"Brittany kissed Artie?"

Santana crinkled her nose. "Ugh, hearing it out loud makes it so much worse." She stared at the Styrofoam bowl filled with oatmeal sitting in front of her and choked back the bile rising in her esophagus. She plucked a couple of napkins from the dispenser sitting on the table and covered her bowl. She leaned back in the chair she was sitting in and folded her arms across her chest.

Dave exchanged concerned looks with Kurt who was sitting beside him. He leaned forward and reached across the table. He placed his hand on top of hers. Santana noticed how clean his fingernails were.

"Hey, Tana -." She reluctantly met his gaze. She saw a combination of sadness and pity in his hazel eyes. "Are you sure that's what she said?"

She snatched her hand back like Dave was a hot stove. "What do you mean am I sure?"

"Santana, calm down," Kurt said.

She shot him a murderous look. "Don't tell me to calm down!"

Dave pinched the bridge of his nose. "We're just trying to help."

Santana shook her head. "I know. I know. I'm just … pissed."

"We get that," Kurt said. "We really do." He looked over at Dave and then back over at her. "I'm so sorry, Santana."

"Me, too."

Dave sat back and rubbed at the thick scruff along his jaw. "Have you talked to her?"

"Not since yesterday." With a shrug of her shoulder she added, "It's not like I can call her anyway. I sort of threw my phone at a brick wall."

Dave's eyes widened. "Okay - wow."

Kurt sat up and reached inside his pocket. He pulled out his phone and sat it at the center of the table. "You can use mine." Santana looked down Kurt's iPhone with its sky-blue case. "Come on, Santana. I get that you're upset. I'd be upset, too. But this is Brittany we're talking about. She made a mistake …"

"Are you taking her side?"

Kurt held his hands up in surrender. "I'm not taking anyone's side. You're my friend. Brittany's my friend, too. You both made a mistake. Brittany forgave you for kissing Pari. Maybe you could forgive her. Santana, please – this is so not worth ending your relationship over."

Dave cleared his throat and looked down at his hands. Santana pushed a strand of hair away from her face. She looked at the table. Kurt's eyes flitted back and forth between his boyfriend and his friend.

"Alright, what's going on?" he asked, a tinge of exasperation in his voice.

Santana looked up and met Dave's gaze. She recognized the look in his eyes. Sometimes she was taken aback by how effortless their communication was. There were moments where so much could be said with just a look between the two of them that only they understood. Growing up, she had often wondered what life would be like if she had a brother or a sister. Being an only child had it's benefits but it was also lonesome and there were days where she yearned to have someone to talk to. Someone who would keep her secrets. Dave Karofsky had become that person in her life. In the last several months he had been there to hold her hand when she had doubts about the future. He was also the mirror she could not avoid and right now the hypocrisy that Rosalia had accused her of the day before was reflected right back at her.

"I never told her."

"What?" Kurt asked.

"I never told her," she repeated. "About Pari. About the kiss that night. I thought that by telling her it would only make things worse."

Kurt sat still, his eyes, unblinking and mouth agape.

"You need to tell her," Dave said quietly. He gestured at Kurt's phone. "If the situation were reversed, you would tell me the same thing."

"If the situation were reversed, I'm pretty sure I'd have your balls in a jar sitting on my bookshelf at home," Kurt said.

Dave turned to his boyfriend and said, "You're not helping, babe."

Santana held the tip of her thumb between her teeth. "What if she gets mad?"

Kurt rolled his eyes. "You mean like you did yesterday?"

Santana pursed her lips together. "Touché."

"Brittany's one of the most forgiving people I know," Kurt said. "Yeah she might be upset when you tell her, but she won't stay mad for long. She loves you, Santana. And you love her."

"Kurt's right," Dave said. "You got this. We're here if you need us."

Santana sighed and slowly nodded her head. She knew they were both right and as much as she hated to admit it, so was Rosalia. She was a hypocrite. Brittany cheated on her, but she cheated first. The only difference is that Brittany had the courage to tell her. Brittany was willing to risk everything for the sake of being honest with her. She needed to do the same. She reached for Kurt's phone and slipped it inside her pocket.

If she was going to do this, she was going to do it the best way she knew how.

"Thanks for coming." Santana held open the door and gestured for Rosalia to step inside. Rosalia peeked her head inside the shack and took in the sparse décor.

"Is this place even safe?" she asked. She shot an accusatory look at Santana and asked, "Did you bring me here to murder me?"

Santana shook her head and said, "It's safe. Although you may want to watch out for loose nails and if I were you I wouldn't sit on the couch." She watched as Rosalia crossed the threshold. She shut the door and joined her at the center of the room.

"What's he doing here?" Rosalia asked pointing to the young man sitting in the recliner. He had a guitar perched on his lap. Santana walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I'll explain that in a moment." She turned to face Rosalia and said, "But first, I want to start off by apologizing to you."

Rosalia sucked her front teeth. "And what exactly are you apologizing for?"

Santana rolled her eyes. Rosalia was not going to make it easy for her. She certainly could not blame her. If the roles were reverse, Santana would be making her life a living hell.

"I want to apologize for the way I acted yesterday," she spoke calmly. "I was really upset but I never should have taken it out on you. Would you please forgive me for being a total crazy person yesterday?"

"And a dumbass," Rosalia said. "Don't forget that part. Oh, and a hypocrite."

"Fine. Please forgive me for being a crazy person and a dumbass. And a hypocrite."

Rosalia stared at Santana. She sighed and said, "Okay – you're forgiven. But if it happens again, I promise I will destroy you."

Santana smiled. "I don't doubt that."

"So, seriously – why'd you ask me to come here?"

"I need you to do me a favor."

"Ah, so you apologize and expect me to do you a favor, is that it?"

Santana closed her eyes and exhaled. She inhaled and exhaled again. She opened her eyes. "Look, you can say no but please, just hear me out."

Rosalia folded her arms over her chest. "I'm listening."

"I made a huge mistake yesterday."

"I know. I was there. Remember?"

"Right," Santana said. "Well, I may have overreacted." Rosalia slowly nodded her head. Santana continued. "Hearing the one person I love more than anything tell me that they were with someone else – it hurt like hell. And it still hurts. But I now realize that what she did to me, is the same thing I did to her a few months ago. The only difference is that she chose to tell me. She chose to tell me because the one thing we promised each other is that we would tell each other everything. Even if it hurts. And I broke that promise.

"I want to make it up to her. Last night I did the hardest thing I've ever had to do and in true Brittany fashion, she forgave me."

"Wait," Rosalia spoke. "She forgave you?"

"Yeah," Santana said. "I told her everything, I apologized and without even hesitating she told me that she forgave me, proving everything I always suspected."

"Which is?"

"My girlfriend is the most perfect person, and I am I total trash person who does not deserve her."

"Oh, come on," Rosalia said. "You are not a trash person. If you brought me here to listen to you self-deprecate, I am so not interested."

"I brought you here because even though Brittany forgave me, it's not enough. This is where you and Chase come into play." Santana moved over to the broken coffee table and picked up her red knapsack with the McKinley High Titans logo on it. She loosened the drawstring and reached inside. She pulled out Kurt's phone and held it out to Rosalia.

"What's this for?" Rosalia asked taking it from her hand.

"Remember how I told you that I used to be in the glee club at my school? Well, one thing all of us had in common is how we loved to express how we were feeling by singing. Not a day went by where one of us was bursting out into song because of a breakup or because we wanted to pay homage to the boy we liked and his gigantic bass-like mouth. Anyway, the last time I wanted to let Brittany know how I felt, I sang to her. But obviously I'm here and she's at home in Lima. I figured you could record me singing and then I could send it to her."

"Aw, that's so romantic," Rosalia said. "Nauseating, but super romantic. Okay, I'm in. So, I just record, and you start singing."

"Exactly," Santana said. "Okay, let me get ready." She moved over to the office chair next to the couch and took a seat. She looked down at the mint green romper she was wearing. Brittany had once mentioned how much she liked it, so Santana found herself wearing the outfit at least once a week. She smoothed down her hair, so the curled ends were situated perfectly over her shoulders. She sat as straight as she could and looked over at Chase who had already started to strum his guitar.

Rosalia held Kurt's phone up and aimed it at her. "Just tell me when you're ready, okay?"

Santana cleared her throat and took a few deep breaths. "Okay – I'm ready."

"Lights," Rosalia said. "Camera. Action."

Chase automatically started to play. Santana nodded her head in time with the melody. She closed her eyes and slowly parted her lips.

"I don't know but I think I may be fallin' for you. Dropping so quickly. Maybe I should keep this to myself. Wait until I know you better."

Both she and Brittany stood in the middle of her darkened bedroom. Their bodies were pressed close together as they swayed to a song on the radio.

"I am trying, not to tell you. But I want to. I'm scare of what you'll say and so I'm hiding, what I'm feeling. But I'm tired of holding this inside my head."

Santana's arms were wrapped around her neck and Brittany's were wrapped around her waist. When she was in the seventh grade, she and her parents had taken ballroom dancing lessons at the local YMCA. The dance instructor, an obviously gay man with a pornstache had instructed the ladies to put their arms around the guy's neck or on his shoulders and for the guys to place their hands on the woman's waist. When Santana had recounted this to Brittany, years later, she had followed up by asking Santana how were the two of them supposed to dance together since both of them were girls.

"We'll take turns," Santana said to her. "Tonight, I'll put my hands on your shoulders and next time you can put your hands on mine."

"I've been spending all my time just thinking 'bout you. I don't know what to do. I think I'm fallin' for you. I've been waiting all my life and now I found you. I don't know what to do. I think I'm falling for you. I'm falling for you."

Santana laid on top of her bed, on top of the covers. Brittany laid beside her, both of them watching the shadows move across the ceiling.

"Oh, I just can't take it. My heart is racing. The emotions keep spinning out."

Santana reached out and placed her hand alongside Brittany's. She turned her head and waited for Brittany to do the same.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Sure."

"I've been spending all my time just thinking 'bout you. I don't know what to do. I think I'm fallin' for you. I've been waiting all my life and now I found you. I don't know what to do. I think I'm falling for you. I'm falling for you."

Santana leaned her head forward. Brittany did the same. She felt her heart pounding inside her throat as Brittany's eyes stared back at her.

"I think I'm fallin' for you. I can't stop thinking 'bout it. I want you all around me and now I just can't hide it. I think I'm fallin' for you. I can't stop thinking 'bout it. I want you all around me and now I just can't hide it. I think I'm fallin' for you. I'm fallin' for you."

Santana slowly opened her eyes. She looked over at Chase. He gave her a slight nod as he lowered his guitar. Santana looked over at Rosalia who had lowered the camera and was now looking at something on the phone. She exhaled.

"How was it?" she asked.

Rosalia looked up from the phone and smiled. "Perfect."

CHAPTER NOTES: The song Santana sings to Brittany is "Fallin' For You" written by Colbie Caillat and Rick Nowels and sang by Colbie Caillat.