Miara848 - Your question is a good one :) and there's kind of a long complex story behind it that I'm totally about to sit down and tell you.
The first episode of Glee that I actually watched was 'Pot O' Gold' in Season 3. I kind of live under a rock and forget the TV even exists half the time, so I tend to miss a lot.
I didn't even see that episode when it aired, it was a rerun, and somebody else was flicking through channels. I saw Brittana at Breadstix on a date and I was like "WTFWhothehellarethey!?" to my friend and was then officially glued to the screen.
I had actually spent the day (and some weeks… months before it) trying to figure out who I could talk about Santana with, because I knew that I needed to talk to someone – and I didn't have anyone in my life who would listen to the story and be non-biased. I didn't want the listener to take to my side. My friends in real life tend to just not want to hear about her, or alternatively they don'tlet me mention her without jumping in and saying something mean, and I hate that.
I was initially just looking for one person to tell it to, and because I knew that talking to people in my real life wasn't gonna work out, I figured that I had to extend my search to the internet. I wrote the story briefly in about 20k (which at the time looked to me like the longest thing ever) and then I thought that was it. I half-considered posting it in those forums where you talk to people and get life advice, but I looked at one and decided it wasn't right. I didn't think that they would listen to me anyway. I also thought about telling a therapist, but I knew I didn't really want one. I just wanted to tell a friend.
Then, back to seeing that season 3 episode, by the end of it I was convinced that it was practically her and me on the screen, and it felt like some kind of divine intervention or something, and I wondered how I could be smart and use it to my advantage.
My thoughts went kind of like: They're us, but they're on TV. TV means they probably have a couple of fans. If these fans like Brittana, then they might like us too, and maybe I can find one really nice one who might like both of us and want to hear our story.
So when the episode finished I went online, hoping to maybe catch one wild Brittana fan in the long grass, and I found… an entire population of them. I didn't really know much about the extent of fandoms before this, because like I said, I live under a rock.
But I learned fast.
Then I remembered that my friend "Rachel" was always posting stories on a site online called 'Fanfiction.' It clicked. I printed out my original 20k that I'd written, and cut it up into sections and decided that each section would be its own chapter, and I'd use Brittana as my voice. I also decided that I would spend all my free time in the next month or so watching that Glee show with an eagle eye and becoming an expert on it so I could fit in with the Glee fandom.
Then, I finally went to bed. It was a long day. :p No, wait, first I went to this site and signed up as "Rainmanwithboobs" as a big fuck you to Finn, 'cause I was pretty sure in that episode he called Brittany that as an insult, so in retaliation I made it my user name, to inform him that there was nothing wrong with being a Rain man, with (or without) boobs. :P
And the rest is history...
Anyway *hugs* to you, and sorry for going on forever! :)
heybrittbritt - Hola :) And I'm sending you hugs right back
I have a diary where I write nice things my readers tell me, and I just pulled it out and wrote "big, complicated and yet so precious and beautiful" in bubble writing with stars from you. I'm glad to meet you, and thank you for taking the time to talk to me. :)
Flor – :) I think that you and your crusade to do something big to help kids with autism makes you a really inspiring person, and I have no doubt that you will help many 'blue roses' someday, or maybe even soon.
I know you're on chapter 2 right now, and it might take you a while to get here, but I just wanted to say that I'd love to help you with your project, and thank you for understanding that I have to stay anonymous. FFN censored the link to your Tumblr though (it always does that) and to be honest I don't know how to use Tumblr or anything about making informative software :P But I'd be happy to answer any questions that I can…
Thanks for reading, and for being you. :)
iclingtoo - Thank you so much :)
Taeblancaxoxo - You are definitely still a unicorn! As far as I'm concerned it's a lifelong kind of membership. I'm really glad to see you back, and thank you for taking the time to review even with all that homework and for your insight and sweet comments.
daydreamernightdoer -:) You mentioned feeling like a 7 year old writing a letter to your favorite author, which reminds me of the letter I sent at that age to my favorite author at the time, which happened to be Roald Dahl. And, not only did I obnoxiously inform him to rewrite Charlie and the Chocolate factory so that I could be in it, I also told him "what you have so far is good, but there needs to be more talk about kids eating candy" (what was I thinking?).
Plus, I was also cleverly writing to, and ordering around a dead guy.
Trust me your reviewing skills are a million miles superior, and plenty good enough. :) And, it really means a lot to me that I can touch someone who hasn't been through the same things, and thank you so much for being open enough to feel it all with me.
Bmcbrid – I know I just messaged you before, but I wanted to say here that your little cousin is so lucky to have you! I bet he is like me and just wants to be understood, so the fact that you can understand him, and that you care for him would mean a lot. You were also another person who said that Brittany deserves more than settling for only getting half of Santana, so thank you for helping me believe that... and also, Unicorns, Unite. :)
Canine Warrior – I'm sorry for almost making you cry, but thank you. :)
Ps. I'm all for you protecting the canine species. Particularly the Raccoon dog, Red wolf, coyote…. and the Fennec fox… and even the Crab-Eating Zorro. :p
luvmeh8meucan'tchangeme - Guess what? I checked out your story. :) I have this rule against reading any of other people's Brittana fics until I'm finished mine, but I have no such rule against Spashley fics. :p
This is my first encounter with Spashley, I've never actually seen their show.
Anyway, I think you're doing great! There's some really cute and funny parts and I relate to Ashley a lot, and just like her I spend a lot of time drawing and folding paper. Also, my "Santana's" nickname for me is Sunshine…
I'm glad to have inspired you, and I agree that there are so many misconceptions out there about Asperger's. I really hope you stick around, and I'm looking forward to reading more of what you write too.
luceroadorada – You're very welcome. :)
mdchap01 - First of all, I'm so glad you were able to find the strength to the road to recovery. There's a little girl in my life with cerebral palsy that I love very much, and she's smart, but not a lot of people understand her, and she likes to swim because she can move faster in the water. :) I'm not sure if seizures are common, but she has them a lot and they are really scary, but she's brave, and I bet you are too. Thank you so much for reading.
wkgreen – Thank you for your support and sorry for the wait! :)
broken-timemachine - I know I've just written you a pm, but I realized I hadn't told you that I liked your new name and thanked you for you supporting the decision I made in the last chapter so I thought I'd do that here. :)
Puff614- Thank you so much for what you said because it was particularly your comment that helped me let go of a lot of guilt that I'd had over the decision I made to not follow her (and Puck) when we graduated. You're very right about Brittany having a tendency to undervalue herself, because I've been struggling with that for most of my life and it's helped me a lot to see now that the decision I made then, wasn't just about not thinking about consequences and just being arrogant or stupid. The choice itself was more about the turning point between going with her and giving in to being undervalued, or fighting for what I deserved, and believing that I deserved more. And I chose to fight, but I still felt guilty about it for the longest time, so thank you so much for being someone who helped me let go of that, because in a way it really does change my life. :) I missed you too, and I'm so glad your horse is okay now! *hugs*
xannaxmurderx – I'm glad I was able to make your day better, and you're totally welcome. :)
just. a. dreamer. named. jay – Thank you :) and I hope you like this next one.
Ascoeur – !I hope I didn't actually kill you with the wait because then I would be a very sad panda, but as always, thank you for brightening my day with your enthusiasm :)
cord – Thank you :) and I think Brittany could still be happy in or near Lima because she doesn't mind small towns, but I agree she needs to get into a good school!
Ashley – It's great to hear from you, and you're welcome, and I really hope you like the next part. :)
MisAtentionSpan - Thank you :) No, Santana doesn't know about Brittana. She doesn't like Glee, she would much rather watch Dexter, Family Guy, NCIS, House, or that show where that guy swears a lot at people for having messy kitchens. I think when it comes down to it, I love Santana so much that I would protect her with my life, and I know that I wouldn't have done this story if it wasn't an important thing to do, or if it were going to cause more harm than good. I've also gone to a lot of trouble to stay anonymous, and that has been mostly for her benefit.
She's said to me so many times that she feels alone in the world, like nobody really understands what she's been through and that all the people around her 'just don't get it.' Through writing this, i've had a lot of people contact me, proving her otherwise, and giving her the sympathy and understanding that she doesn't get in real life, because she can come off as 'just a bitch' which alienates her from making friends and getting the support she needs.
I'm holding a diary in my hands right now that i've made for her (I have one of my own for me too). And, in it i've written the words from people here. Every time someone told me they saw her as amazing or brave, I wrote it down, along with the many, many times that people said they relate to her. The front cover says "You are not alone." Maybe she's not ready to read it now, but I know how much this diary would be worth to her, so I have to believe that what i'm doing is worthwhile.
And to all- just a warning on this one: one of the characters goes though depression, so if that triggers you just be warned.
Chapter 22 – From Me To You
Brittany S Pierce, Present
Ten lies that they told me in high school.
1. "You're really stupid."
2. "Just get accepted into a good college, then your worries for your future are over."
3. "Unless you can figure out your algebra homework, you'll never succeed in life."
4. "You can come back to your old teachers anytime to chat, and we'll help you."
5. "We just want you to be yourself, well, within reason. You know that homosexuality is a sin right?"
6. "High school relationships don't mean anything in the real world."
7. "Teenagers don't know real love."
8. "You're just a kid, you'll get over Santana the minute you walk out of that place."
9. "It's all just a phase."
10. "I think you're ready for the real world."
One truth that I found out all by myself.
You never know how addicted you are to something, or to someone, until it isn't there anymore.
Brittany S. Pierce, age 18 - 19
1- Distraction
"What are you doing now, Britt?" Kurt asked, doing a double take as he came into the living room and saw the blonde waving her arms around energetically at his TV.
"I'm conducting a symphony," Brittany told him. "Thank you for inviting me over again, I really didn't want to spend the day at home by myself. Whenever I go into my room, I always feel like she should be there too, and it feels wrong."
"Hang on, hold up, you're conducting a… what now?" Kurt asked, bewildered. His strange day with Brittany was getting stranger by the minute. Ever since Santana had left, she just really hadn't been herself. No wait, that's a lie, Kurt thought. She's still herself, only she's been ... more extreme.
"Haven't you always wanted to conduct your own orchestra? I figure I need to practice right now just in case some maestro somewhere drops dead on the spot, because what if I'm the only one available to fill in? Luckily there are TV channels set up for this kind of thing 24/7."
"Okay, Britt, but before this I'm pretty sure I heard you practicing your commentating on the horse racing," Kurt said gently, trying to bring some order and sense back in to the room. Maybe they could sit down together and enjoy some tea. Or Jello. He was prepared to make Jello, if it would only get her to sit down and stop being such a walking hurricane.
"You know, I could be the next big thing," Brittany muttered dropping her hands from their conductor's position back down to rest at her sides. The TV violinists didn't seem to need her help much to keep playing, and Kurt was staring at her. He stared at her like that a lot lately.
Kurt guided her to a chair. "And, before the horse racing, you spent a good part of the morning making exactly one hundred and twelve tiny cupcakes for some random bake sale that you found in the ads space in the newspaper."
Brittany looked longingly at the plates covered over with a cloth in the kitchen.
Kurt frowned. "Well, at least I think it was one hundred and twelve. It was, unless I missed you pilfering a few more than the ones I already counted you sneaking off with," he continued. "You're getting kind of a reputation as a cookie and cupcake thief you know."
One hundred and fifteen, Brittany thought triumphantly. You missed the three I hid in my hat for safekeeping.
"And, before that I'm pretty sure I saw you building something that looked kind of like a time machine. And long before that in the early morning, you organized every book in my house."
Brittany shrugged. "You had Little Women right beside The Shining. Something had to be done."
"First you stacked them up like a huge tower, and then you put them away in alphabetical order. Then you switched to lining them up on the floor by the year they were published. And then you turned to organizing them by the color of their spines, turning my bookshelf in to a giant rainbow. And then you were finally done with my books and you started on a daisy chain. And after that, you turned my living room into a human-sized Pac-man game, and I'm really not sure how I'm going to navigate my way through that huge maze when I need to get out through my front door," Kurt said, trying again to get her to see reason.
"You could just follow the pac-dots?" Brittany advised him.
Kurt waved his hand at her in frustration. "Then you counted how many grapes you could fit in your mouth, and then you made peanut butter s'mores, and then you chased ants through my house watching them to see where they went, and later on you actually started digging for gold in my backyard. Seriously, do you not see where I'm going with all this Britt?" he asked. "Should I remind you of what you did yesterday?"
"Well, at least I found out that ant life in particular is very interesting," Brittany told him, shrugging again and turning away. "They can carry things that are like fifty times the size of their own weight. I was hoping I could get a whole bunch together and they could carry my cat around. And then I was hoping that the one I was following would take me to see their ant queen and together we could rule the nest. And maybe my cat could be king."
You'd need all the ants in America to even come close to carrying your fat cat, Kurt thought, but then he paused, looking at her closely. "I know you miss her okay? But wearing yourself out with doing anything that you can possibly think of, just isn't going to help."
"It helps me," Brittany said quietly, looking at her feet. "If I keep myself busy, then sometimes I can even go a whole minute without thinking about her. Do you think I could –"
"No!" Kurt interrupted. "Whatever it is, just no. No more cooking or organizing or conducting or building or commentating. Just… just sit down for a little bit, and breathe."
Brittany met his eyes. "I was just going to ask for a hug," she mumbled.
Kurt exhaled the breath he was holding out slowly. "Oh. Okay, sorry."
He moved forward and put his arms around her slowly like she was a wild thing, about to fly away any second. She stayed still.
Wow, Kurt thought surprised, feeling her hands come up and cling to his shirt. She must really be feeling Santana's absence.
"The city is colder without her in it," Brittany whispered into his shoulder. "It feels kind of like it would feel if your house was broken and there was a brick missing, and all the cold air outside was getting in. There's a hole in our city, Kurt," she told him.
He couldn't help but to feel sorry for her. "When did you last talk to her?"
"Last night." She finally broke free of the hug and started pacing around the room, as if she was trying to burn a hole in the carpet. "She said that she's okay, and she was using her smiley voice when I tried to hug the phone, but for the rest of the call she just sounded sad."
"The distance is going to be hard," Kurt said sympathetically.
"It wasn't so bad when I could feel her smiling," Brittany said, her forehead wrinkling up. "The bad part was that she was kind of distant, and that she hung up earlier than she had to. It wasn't like our usual midnight calls to each other."
"Oh?" Kurt asked.
Brittany grinned. "Sometimes after school if the parental units were being a pain and wouldn't let us out, we'd just call each other until we had to go to sleep." Her smile faded. "But it was like this time I couldn't reach her through the phone like I could before."
"It's an adjustment, Britt. It might take time," Kurt suggested. "And, speaking of um, other potential adjustments"
He awkwardly pulling an envelope out of his pocket.
Please let her get in, he thought. Maybe this will stop her from trashing the rest of my house, and better yet give her something to focus on.
Brittany scrunched up her nose. "What's that?"
Kurt put his hand on her arm gently. "I applied to a couple of colleges for you, just in case you didn't get into the one you chose that's close by. I figured you would just focus on getting into Ohio State University in Lima and forget the rest, because that's kind of what you do."
Kind of like how you focus on Santana and forget the rest of the world exists, Kurt thought.
Brittany smiled at him, and took the letter. "You really did that for me?"
"Yep, and for this particular school when I wrote your entrance essay I really talked up all your special talents, and I worked the 'I'm unique' angle."
Because you sure are that, Kurt thought, surveying his Pac-man maze of a living room.
"My uniqueness?" Brittany asked her voice wavering.
He said that I have Asperger's? I didn't know that he knew, and I definitely don't want this school knowing that about me, she thought.
"Yep, I've never been able to figure out what it is exactly that makes you so different from the rest of us, but you don't have to know why, to work it," Kurt said striking a pose.
Brittany relaxed, then spotted the name of the university on the front. "Oh," she said disappointed, "you know this is a really, really good school. My grades weren't good enough for here. Miss Pillsbury said so."
"Yeah, well, word on the street is that this campus received some funding for their psychology program, so they've just upgraded the whole thing and built bigger rooms and hired more teachers, so they are letting twice as many people in to fill the new space."
"So?"
"Well, like I just said, it takes a bit of time for all new things to take off, so I'm pretty sure their expectations of their new applicants are lower this year, and that's because they need more people."
"Seat fillers," Brittany mumbled. "I'm not going to get in, Kurt. Maybe I'm kind of smart, but I'm not that smart. Let me get back to those peanut butter s'mores."
"Open it," Kurt urged. "Come on, I was there when Miss Pillsbury handed you the 'So you wanna help people but can't without a college degree' pamphlet. If you want to get qualified enough to help make all the sad kids in our city happier with your Britt magic and your song and dance routines, then we're gonna have to start ripping open a lot of these envelopes until one of them tells us what we want to hear."
Brittany went to tear it open, but before she was even a quarter of the way done, she suddenly froze with her hand midair, a wave of pain coming across her face.
Kurt understood. "Yeah you didn't think of her for nearly five minutes that time," he realized, praising her.
Brittany shrugged the pain away, and turned her focus back to the envelope. Getting an education and getting smarter is what I need to be with Santana, Brittany thought, determinedly ripping open the envelope and pulling out he contents, her eyes scanning the page.
"Well?" Kurt asked excitedly.
Brittany's jaw dropped. "I got in?" It was phrased as a question.
Kurt pulled it from her trembling fingertips. "Yeah you did!" he exclaimed wildly.
"No way," Brittany said, pulling the letter closer to her eyes. "This is like a joke… or it's really an invitation to join a chicken farm, right? I can't really be going to college. No way!"
"It's real! Get used to it, Britt!" he said crossing over to a kitchen cabinet and pulling out a giant party popper. He aimed it and roughly twisted the cell, and as it exploded, streamers and confetti rained on Brittany.
She gaped at him, dumbfounded.
"A diva is always prepared for anything," he said, shrugging as she shook the confetti out of her hair. "You better go pack your bags."
From Brittany
To Santana
Subject: Miracles happen.
Guess what? I'm gonna be a college girl. Can you believe it?
… Yeah I couldn't either!
I wish I could have told you in person but I guess you haven't had time to call me back yet, and I'm sending you this email because I couldn't wait another minute to tell you.
How is law school? You have to tell me everything, I don't want to miss a thing!
Can you give me your new address? I've got a big box of s'mores and cupcakes to send you. The cupcakes were supposed to be for a bake sale, but I totally stole some to give to you. They'll be okay in the mail right? I can put a pillow in so they don't get squished.
OMG I still have to say goodbye to my cat!
Don't worry San, I know we'll be together soon. But while we're waiting I guess I'll be being the new girl on campus and studying super hard… just like you. I'm glad we're doing the same thing now, just in different places. It makes me feel so much closer to you to know that we're doing the same stuff.
I love you, honey!
From Santana
To Brittany
Subject: re:Miracles happen.
Congratu-fucking-lations!
Hey, who first told you that you were a genius?
I'm so proud of you! Kick ass, baby girl.
Law school is great. So far they're pretty much grading me for arguing with people, and like I really need any encouragement to do that. But there's a lot of reading as well, which is kind of boring.
And, there are like vending machines around every corner, you'd be going nuts at the sight of all the constant candy temptations.
I'll give you my address, but I think Puck and I are going to move around a lot. We've got a place 5 minutes away from my campus right now though.
I love you too.
2- Promises
"Kurt, I didn't really get in fair and square you know. My grades weren't good enough. They only picked me to fill up more seats. You know, I can probably fill up four seats in all of my classes if I eat more Cheetos and sit sideways so my feet take up lots of room. That's all they want me to do."
"Hush, Britt," Kurt told her, dragging her luggage over a hole in the sidewalk and cursing. "You're here just like everyone else, and you're gonna be learning the same stuff and taking the same exams. Who cares about how you got in?"
"I do," Brittany told him, struggling under the weight of the rest of her luggage. "You aren't supposed to do something that you aren't smart enough to do. That's logic."
"Bullshit," Kurt swore, losing patience with her. "Let me put it this way to you. This is a really good school, and everyone wants to get in, right?"
"Right," Brittany agreed lowering her head and looking like she was about to run in the opposite direction.
"So, it's not always that some people don't deserve a place or can't handle the work, its about the fact that places are limited and they can only take a few, so they are usually overly picky. You'll be just fine, and I'm gonna see you at the finish line," he joked in singsong.
"You really think I can do this?" Brittany asked hopefully.
"Definitely," he told her, giving her a little push. "Now go and meet your roommate."
"I wish you could be my roommate," Brittany told him pushing open the door. "That fashion and design school better appreciate you."
"No one's here," Kurt said interrupting her, and dumping her bags on the vacant bed. "Wow, there's only two beds, but I swear by the looks of all this stuff that at least five people live here, which is funny because administration said just one."
He forced his way through the piles of clothes and shoes on the floor and side-eyed the five coffee mugs on the table.
"Maybe she's homeless," Brittany said. "Well, except for her home here. Maybe she needs to bring all of the stuff that she owns."
Kurt looked around the room at all the opened bags and DVD's, and then spotted something above one of the beds. "Hey, well whoever she is, she has great taste. Look at that Beatles poster!"
He pointed to the super-sized Abbey Road poster featured prominently on the wall, and he started humming 'All you need is love' as he picked up a few fallen chairs.
This place looks like a bomb hit it, he thought. He was used to mess after having Brittany's wild ideas and projects explode all over his house so much lately, but this was something else.
"I think I'm lost already," Brittany muttered, peeking out the window and wondering how she was ever going to find her way around this enormous campus, "i'm lost and I haven't even left the room."
"Look Britt," Kurt told her elbowing a pair of shoes off a table, "your Hello Kitty toaster goes here. You're home."
"You're right, that's all I need," Brittany said smiling at him. "All I need is toast," she sung in the same tune he was singing before.
Kurt smiled back. "There's only a little space left in your closet, so you might have to talk to your roommate about moving some of her stuff out. Your five carefully selected stuffed animals can sit on your bed, and feel honored that they made it through the grueling elimination rounds and beat out the other hundred or so hopefuls that you wanted to take with you. That entire box of sticky notes that your mom gave you can go um… under your bed."
"I'm so not going to unpack everything," Brittany announced brightly. "It would be so silly, right? Santana could show up at any moment without Puck and hold out her arms, and then I'd only have to pack everything up again, and I wouldn't want to waste a second of our new life packing, you know?"
Kurt looked at her sadly. "I'm sorry that she's not here," he said gently.
"She couldn't get away," Brittany told him. "She said good luck to me last night, and so did my mom and my sister. Katie still can't believe I'm actually doing this."
"Yeah, well, now you're here, and you're going to be great," he promised her, "and I feel pretty positive about this now that I see that your roommate, or maybe menagerie of roommates, is a Beatles fan. I mean, how bad could she be? You're in safe hands."
He stood up and hugged her tightly, feeling her return the hug as if her life depended on it. "Bye Britt. I'll come visit you again and see how you're doing as soon as I can."
He made it out the door, and he almost made it to the parking lot before he heard footsteps echoing on the pavement behind him. He stopped.
"Kurt wait!" Brittany called out, puffing.
He looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to catch up. He'd somehow known that this was coming. She'd looked so frightened the moment he said he was leaving.
When she reached him, her body slackened and she leaned forward slightly, as if she hadn't planned this far ahead. Her hands began to twist around themselves agitatedly in a way that he hadn't seen her do in what seemed like a long time. He reached out and pulled one of her hands towards him, stilling her movements and prying open her fingers, urging her to relax.
"I just don't know if I can do this without her," Brittany said finally. "She's not here and I've never done anything without her. I've never had to. I've never even tried," she rambled.
"I miss her so much. I keep feeling like this is a dream and I'll wake up back in her room and I'll see both our suitcases packed up next to each other, and feel her hand in mine."
Kurt didn't know what to say. He wasn't sure if there was anything that could be said that would comfort her right now. He couldn't lie and tell her that she'd be fine without Santana, and he couldn't tell her that it would be easy trying to find her independence. Shuffling on his feet, he sensed the importance of this moment. Brittany felt like a loose cannon that he was trying to contain. Contain, and then pack back in that messy dorm room with a book in her hands and pray she focuses and sticks with it, he thought.
"She said to me once that she'd let me paint our door pink if we lived somewhere together. And she really hates pink," Brittany said, distractedly.
There was a silence.
"It's just, I thought that was really nice of her," Brittany explained to him, wistfully, figuring the silence was because he didn't get it.
"Britt, you're not a quitter," he said at last. It wasn't a lie. It was the one thing about her that he had always been sure of. "So don't quit. Get this degree, and prove to everyone that they were wrong about you."
Brittany eyes widened, and she gripped at his hand, years of memories flashing through her mind.
"Yeah," Kurt continued, seeing the recognition in her eyes. "Do it, and laugh in the face of the people who have ever called you stupid. Prove to this school that you were meant to be here, even if your scores were a little bit lower. Prove them all wrong and no matter what, don't quit."
Brittany shuffled on her feet.
"Promise me," he urged.
"I promise, Kurt," Brittany said, trying to stop her voice from trembling.
"And you should promise Santana too. I know she's not here right now, but deep down that girl wants you to succeed, and she wants to see that you can do things without her."
Brittany looked into the sky as if Santana was somehow there. "I promise you, Santana," she whispered.
"And promise yourself," he said. "Don't just do it for us. Do it for you."
"Okay," Brittany nodded. "Never quit," she repeated.
"Never," he echoed, accepting her pinkie and shaking on it.
Fifteen minutes later, Brittany was opening one of her textbooks to Chapter One and flopping down on her bed. She winced for the fifth time in ten minutes, as one of the girls that seemed to have permanently taken up residence outside her dorm room let out another loud laugh. It was so much quieter in her old room. She hoped that the girls would move on soon.
"Cognition" she read out. What the hell is that? It sounds like a spaceship or machine of some kind, you know like cogs plus ignition, she thought.
She read on. "Cognition is mental processes."
Ohh, Brittany thought. Maybe they are trying to say that the mind is a little bit like a machine. I'm off to a good start for sure.
She yawned. The rest of the thick textbook seemed so daunting, and it was super heavy where she was leaning it on her stomach. "Never quit," she reminded herself.
Suddenly the group of noisy girls burst in the room. One of them breezed past Brittany, and sat on the counter top The second girl had the brightest red hair that Brittany had ever seen, and she elbowed her way past the rest and leaned down close to Brittany's face.
"Watch me crank it, watch me roll. Watch me crank dat, Soulja Boy. Then Superman dat oh!" she sung.
Brittany tried to move away politely. Too loud, her mind screamed, but she took a deep breath and tried to ignore it.
"Hey," another girl said from behind her. Her hair was almost white but her eyebrows were a dark black. Brittany immediately thought that she was kind of unique and pretty. "Hey," the girl said again in a deep raspy voice. "I'm Antonia, your roommate, and these are my bitches, Nessa, Charlie, Monroe and Nat Nat."
"Hi Antonia, and hello bitches! I'm Brittany and it's good to meet you!" Brittany exclaimed excitedly, the mystery of the lost roommate now solved. "I like your poster," she told her pointing to Abbey Road. She put out her hand for Antonia to shake.
"Ugh," Antonia said already offended, and brushing her away. "Are you high? That's not my poster."
She ripped the Beatles poster down and tore it to pieces. "The girl here before us left that. She was a fucking hipster."
Brittany cringed. She knew that Kurt would cry if he saw this. She could hear him in her head right now saying that destroying anything Beatles related is considered unforgivable sacrilege. Whatever that means, she thought.
She stared at Antonia, watching her cross over to the other side of the room and grab a brand new rolled up poster that was still being held in its rubber band. She slid it open and began to tape it up to the wall. She impatiently ordered the other girls to get her more tape, and to hold her chair steady.
"I'm not a bitch, I'm THE bitch and it's Ms Bitch to you." Brittany said, reading out the words out slowly once she could finally see the caption on the poster.
Brittany thought back to her day of following all the ants around in Kurt's house, and she began to picture Antonia as an ant queen, and the other four girls as some of her workers ants.
"No, they're worker-bitches," Brittany said aloud to herself, giggling.
Antonia coughed. "What's that? Seriously are you actually high? You sound like you're on drugs. And what's with all the dorky stuffed animals and the stupid animal hats?"
"I just like them," Brittany shrugged.
"Okay." Antonia rolled her eyes. "Well, my friends are gonna be here pretty much all the time, I hope that's cool with you."
"Um…," Brittany started. "Well, okay, but could you be a bit quieter please?" she asked, raising her voice to carry over the top of Nessa and Nat Nat's third round of Crank dat Soulja Boy, and Monroe's noisy attempts to knock down a tower of red solo cups.
"Cry me a river," Antonia mumbled .
"I'm not crying," Brittany told her, brushing her fingers under her eyes just in case.
Now that Antonia mentioned it, she did kind of feel a lot like crying. She voiced her thoughts out loud. "I'm not crying now, but sometimes I feel like crying, because now that we're in college I have to miss someone really important to me."
The very moment after she had said it, she realized that it was one of those things that she was not meant to say to someone that she had just met. She wished that she had a working filter on her mouth.
"Do I look like your therapist?" Antonia asked sarcastically.
"No, but you might be a therapist some day," Brittany said, still trying to be nice and directing the statement to the other girls as well. "I mean, that's what we're all here for right? Have you read Chapter One on cognition? It's pretty great so far."
Not that I actually got past the first word yet, Brittany thought sighing inwardly.
"Nope, I'm just here 'cause my dad said he'd cut me off if I didn't go," Charlie said, "and for the foam parties."
"And for the booze," Monroe added.
Antonia rolled her eyes. "Don't listen to them. We all went to high school together and they are just a couple of freaking geniuses that never need to study."
She looked her up and down. "What's your name again," she asked Brittany pointedly.
"It's Brittany. But you can call me Britt if you want," she offered, even though she was pretty sure that she had just made a bad first impression.
"I think I'll call you retard actually," Antonia said breezily. "It suits you. I don't smell pot on you anywhere so you're probably not a stoner, you must just be a little freak."
Brittany turned away from her, trying not to look as hurt as she felt. Yeah, that counts as a bad impression, she thought. So this is what happens when Santana's not here to protect me. If she was here then nobody would be picking on me, because she'd be kicking their ass from here to class.
She really wanted to cry now. She went and sat back down on her bed, and picked her textbook up again.
This is the first time I've ever really been on my own, she realized.
She turned the pages of the book rapidly, but her vision was blurred and nothing was sinking in. She sniffled and shut the book, resting her chin on it instead.
I'm here to get a degree, nothing else matters. No wait, I'm not just here for the degree, I'm here to learn how to understand people, Brittany reminded herself. And, to learn how to understand myself better. And, to learn how to get along with people. Learning about psychology can teach me all of these things.
She sighed, and pulled out her laptop to email Santana.
From Brittany
To Santana
Subject: Dolphins
Hey San,
Did you get my last seven emails?
People here don't seem to like me very much. I'm kind of lonely.
These people here aren't at all like dolphins. Did you know that dolphins are totally all about mixing races and hanging out with other species? They even try to get jiggy with humans.
I bet if a dolphin could speak it would say "Love is love, man."
No species would be too weird, not even the Britt species.
I love you times infinity.
From Santana
To Brittany
Subject: Re:Dolphins
"This vacation's useless
These white pills aren't kind
I've given a lot of thought on this 13-hour drive
I miss the grinding concrete where we sat past 8 or 9
And slowly finished laughing in the glow of our headlights
I've given a lot of thought to the nights we use to have
The days have come and gone
Our lives went by so fast
I faintly remember breathing on your bedroom floor
Where I laid and told you, but you sweared you loved me more"
From Brittany
To Santana
Subject: Re:Re:Dolphins
I love that song. I'm singing the rest of it out loud to you right now and my roommates are giving me a weird look.
"Do you care if I don't know what to say
Will you sleep tonight or will you think of me
Will I shake this off pretend its all okay
That there's someone out there who feels just like me
There is
Those notes you wrote me
I've kept them all
I've given a lot of thought of how to write you back this fall
With every single letter in every single word
There will be a hidden message about a girl that
Loves a girl"
3- Denial
"What are you watching, babe?" Puck asked, seeing Santana sitting on her bed, hunched over her laptop, with the screen unnecessarily close to her face.
Santana jumped with a start, and slammed the screen down. "Fucking hell, Puck! Seriously, I'm going to have to ask that you wear a bell, or at least freaking knock on the wall before you enter a room."
"Were you watching porn?" Puck asked with a grin.
"Well, as a matter of fact I was," Santana countered. "What of it?"
"Nothing, nothing," Puck said, backing away slowly.
Santana began to visibly relax.
Seizing the opportunity, Puck sprung forward and leaned over her and pulled the screen up so he could see. "If there are any titties, I want in on this," he said.
"Puck!" Santana screeched, hitting him hard on his chest. .
Puck's eyes widened when he saw the image on the screen.
"She wouldn't want you looking at her!" Santana barked. "It was a dumb prank. We were just fooling around."
"Take your socks off Britt. Why would you leave your socks on when you've taken everything else off? They're distracting me from your gorgeous self."
"Why are we doing this again Santana? You're not gonna show Puck are you?"
"We might as well show him, I mean guys love this stuff. And we're doing it because it's fun. Now stick your tongue out."
Brittany sighed and gave her a look.
"Alright," Santana muttered, "it's really just for me okay? I admit it. Come on, we both need a break from studying for finals, and you've been poring over that one college application for hours."
Brittany obliged, sticking her tongue out at Santana.
"No, do it sexy, Britt, do it like you've got a tongue ring and you're showing it off."
"Aahhohkay," Brittany said keeping her tongue out and trying to make her face into what Santana wanted. She put her hands behind her head and posed.
Santana took the picture, breathing hard. "Good, good. That's really sexy, Britt. I'm gonna take a bit of video now okay? Keep being sexy. Do your tiger moves. I'm filming."
Brittany giggled, and Santana kept recording, making the camera focus in on Brittany's boobs, while Brittany twisted around in various positions on the bed. She giggled again and grabbed her cat, shoving him up close to the lens.
"There's two cats now," Brittany announced, arching her back like the furry tabby and copying him. "Twice as much pussy."
Santana ate it up, moving backwards and forwards to catch Brittany at all angles. "You don't have a bad side," Santana murmured to her lovingly. "All your sides are your best ones."
"Even my butt?" Brittany asked, laughing.
"You bet," Santana agreed wholeheartedly, focusing in on her face this time. "Now I'm gonna get in the shot with you. Put the cat down."
"No!" Brittany said, "he wants to be in this with us. He can be sexy too! We can call this video: Two girls, One cat."
"Ugh, no way Britt. Put that fucking cat down, and come over here to me. The camera's rolling."
Brittany shrugged. "I suppose I can splice in some clips of him later. Maybe something classy, like some footage of him going to church or doing household chores. Our sex video has to have class."
"Yeah, alright, so long as we can do something that's a little less classy right now," Santana said with a smirk, bending over Brittany and capturing her mouth in a kiss.
"It was just a stupid prank, huh?" Puck said trying to humor her and go along with it. "So did you end up posting it to Youtube? Send me the link."
"No," Santana said almost in a trance. "I made it just for me. She doesn't even have a copy. Nobody does but me." Tears sprung to her eyes. "I just want to hold her and never let her go again."
Puck laid a hand on her shoulder. "I'll leave you alone," he said sympathetically in a rare moment of maturity. "Don't torture yourself too much."
Santana ignored him, and curling up on her side so that she was eye level with the screen, she pressed play, rewinding and replaying Brittany's laugh until she finally fell asleep.
From Brittany
To Santana
Subject: I challenge you…
Hey San,
I haven't walked into the wrong class all week. That's worth celebrating right? Last week I learned about tort laws just like you and then the anatomy of aging blowflies cause I got the wrong rooms twice. I thought that those subjects seemed a little strange, and that the people looked kind of different, but I stayed anyway 'cause it was fun.
I miss you so much. Me and Kurt went out for ice-cream the other day and it felt wrong to not be holding your hand under the table.
The minute I see you I'm gonna hug you so hard, and we can totally have a rematch of that hug game.
Do you remember? I mean the game we always played when you were in one of your cuddly moods... the one where we'd see how long we could hug each other for. :P
Except, remember how it was kind of more of a contest to see who could go the longest without having to pee? Because that became pretty much the only reason we would ever need to let go of each other. We got pretty good at doing all the other stuff while joined at the hip.
Our record was 12 hours and 37 minutes right? You shouldn't have had a coke or we'd have been invincible. :p Or we'd at least have made it another twenty minutes…
Anyway, I've set the challenge. I love you so much San...
I can't wait til you come and get me! Did you get my last three emails?
From Santana
To Brittany
Subject: Re:I challenge you…
Britt,
Yeah, getting to the right classes is great.
I'm really focused on what I'm doing right now, it's not like I have time to sit around and miss you or anything, so I hope you're not gonna be too offended that I'm not gonna say how much I miss you too.
I mean, maybe if I did have time I'd watch some old videos or look at your picture… but I don't so…
I don't even have time for me these days, and I have to keep up my perfect GPA and be a good girlfriend all at once.
I've got to go now…
4- Frustration
"Are you ever going to unpack that bag?" Antonia asked, seeing the travel bag still in its place in the corner of the room.
"Nope. That's for when my girlfriend comes to get me. I'd keep more things packed up, but then I wouldn't be able to use them and I need my Hello Kitty toaster and toothbrush like I need to breathe air."
"The retard has a girlfriend, huh?" Monroe laughed, cracking open more beer. "Just don't hit on me."
"I so wouldn't do that. Can I play beer pong with you guys now?" Brittany asked, looking longingly at the game they were playing on a makeshift table. "I've got to learn how to get along with people and it's important."
"Nope," Antonia said, cutting her off abruptly.
"Hmm, you're right. I don't know my stuff and the midterm is coming up soon. I shouldn't get any pong."
"Whatever. Hey, whatever notes you're doing, can you do some for me as well."
"Okay," Brittany agreed. "We girls should stick together and help each other. I'll give you a copy of mine. But the main part of the exam is that we have to be able to look at a picture of a brain and label every part and say what it does."
"Duh, Elle Woods" Nessa said. "I've only looked at the page once and I already know I'm gonna ace it." She hi-fived Nat.
Brittany straightened up and cleared her throat. "Legally Blonde, and Elle Woods, is an inspiration to us all. Seriously. She studied super hard to get into Law School, and then she totally told that asshole Warner guy off and stepped on all his friends. And, she did it all by using her intelligence. And then, even though she was under a lot of pressure to change and be more boring and square like everyone else, she totally stayed just as pink and true to herself."
"Whatever you say, Blondie," Nessa laughed.
Brittany looked at her, and then turned away from them, finding some earmuffs to muffle out the noise. She swore they were being extra loud all the time for her benefit.
"I can't do it!" Brittany shouted in frustration.
Everyone in the room snickered. "That's hardly a surprise," Antonia said.
Brittany stood up and began pacing around the room. "I need her to explain this stuff to me," she ranted.
"Who, your mom? Poor baby."
"No! I need Santana to explain how I can learn this."
Brittany typed out a text to her, and sat with trembling hands waiting for a reply. It didn't come.
"Figures," Monroe said. "She's got a fantasy girlfriend."
"She's just busy," Brittany murmured. "It's not her fault." She tried Kurt next, and this time she got an immediate response.
(B) There are just too many words like Hippopotacampus and Thalamus and they all mean blobby bits that all look the same!
(K) Trying drawing some pictures. You seem to think in pictures. Or build your own brain, something you can touch. Give those words some meaning to you. You can do it!
"Okay," Brittany sighed heavily. "Never quit. I can do this. I'll make a brain cake."
"'Cause on Cooking a la Brittany, there's nothing under there." Brittany hummed the song to herself, and then pulled the enormous finished cake out of the cake pan and sliced it in half. She cut away bits until it kind of looked like a brain, all the while praying that it wouldn't crumble. It didn't.
"Right. The Cerebellum goes here," she said, squirting some red food dye onto the spongy yellow cake. "It kind of looks like a bell doesn't it?" she whispered under her breath, rubbing her finger over it and then writing 'cerebellum' in the flour on the table, committing it to memory.
"And its function is fine motor control, like precise movements," she muttered. She moved on to the Medulla Oblongata next, and felt the food dye her hand start to shake. She steadied it with her left hand.
"Braincake, you are so colorful," she said to the cake.
"Well, she's cracked," Antonia remarked.
"I'm fine," Brittany told her.
"I don't think so," Antonia said. "Look, it's none of my business, and quite frankly I don't even care about you or your psycho cakes, but the sound of you bouncing your feet and tapping your fingers over there is driving me insane."
Brittany exhaled. "Sorry. I guess I'm kind of stressed."
She meant the apology. Antonia really wasn't that bad of a roommate. She even usually cleared her bitches out, and went to sleep during Brittany's best study hours which happened to be 3am to 6am.
"And… when are you going to eat?" Antonia asked, sounding almost frightened. "All I've ever seen you eat is toast, and that's weird enough, but lately I haven't seen you eat anything… or sleep."
"I'll do all that when I've finished this," Brittany said with resolve, trying not to yawn. "One thing at a time. Our mid terms are in two days."
"Well... what if you never get this stupid cake thing finished?"
"Then at least I can say I tried my best to learn this stuff. I can tell Santana that I tried my best."
"Fine, whatever," Antonia threw her hands up, and backed out of the room. "I can't stand to be around you right now. I'm clearing out."
Brittany stared down at her cake. "Well, at least we got rid of Queen Bitch Face," she told it, squirting some blue liquid on to represent the hippopotacampus.
She pointed her finger at it. "Your function is memory, and you're what I'm using right now to remember this stuff. It's just, well I don't think you're working very well right now," Brittany said, clutching her head, then focusing and reading the word again.
"Oh, it's just hippocampus. Well, Braincake, did you know that hippos are considered one of the most dangerous animals in Africa? Maybe I could remember this by thinking of the hippocampus as like one of the most dangerous parts of the brain. Memories can be really dangerous things you know, they often drive us to act in strange ways, 'cause don't you just wish you could erase certain things from your mind?"
She paused.
"Hey Braincake? I think that you're my only friend here, and I promise that I'm never gonna eat you," Brittany told the cake in a flat tone, shrugging her shoulders and trying not to mind about it.
From Brittany
To Santana
Subject: Midterms
Hey San,
So midterms weren't that bad in the end. Braincake helped a lot.
You remember how the Glee club used to sing Lean on me before all our really hard exams?
Well, people actually seem to find singing a bit annoying here, how weird is that? I tried to start them going at the chorus when we were waiting outside, but they weren't having any of it.
In fact, every time I just get up and sing, people actually frown. You can't just walk into the dining hall and... well... burst into song and have people just automatically know how to sing backup, magically pulling out moves that are synchronized to yours.
Yeah. That kind of thing somehow just doesn't happen here.
I've tried to help. When most of us passed midterms, I tried to show them how it's done by making my theme song a mashup of Stronger - Kelly Clarkson and Stronger - Britney Spears, and singing it every time I entered a room. But, I guess i'm not a trendsetter.
How did you go on yours? And are people at your school as repressed vocally as mine?
Call me?
I love you.
5- Dedication
"You guys! Oh my god, you guys! Seriously!" Brittany shouted over the music, crawling over people's feet and trying to reach her laptop.
"Why are you having a party during my Santana time? You know it's my Santana time!"
She tried to shield her eyes. Pretty much everyone in the room was at least half naked, and making out with someone.
Engrossed in what she was doing, Charlie moved aside and Brittany ended up getting a front row seat view of her boyfriend's genitalia.
"Woah! Holy Argentine Lake Duck!" Brittany exclaimed to him, backing away. "Did you know that most birds don't have penis's? They do it by touching their hoohahs together, and that's totally all they need to do. But one of the exceptions is the Lake Duck, and boy is he ever an exception, he's got 42.5 inches worth of manhood, and I think you're totally an Argenti-"
"Brittany," Antonia warned.
Brittany sighed. "Right. I'm sorry. Look, I just want to talk to Santana."
"Lighten up, sped," Nat said cheerfully, pulling one of the books that she'd been sitting on out from under her, and tossing it at Brittany's head.
Brittany's exhausted mind, and dull reflexes stopped her from catching the book in time, and it thumped her hard on the side of her forehead.
"Ugh," she said shaking it off. "But you guys know that Tuesday night is my Santana time, because that's the only time she's got free!"
Her cries were met by a chorus of laughter.
"You can sex party every other night of the week!" Brittany begged. "You already have," she muttered.
"Get over it," Monroe told her. "She only talks to you for like five seconds. You can miss it. Blink, and you've already missed it."
"I'm still shocked that she's actually real!" Nessa laughed, kissing the Lake duck hard on the mouth.
"I can't miss it!" Brittany howled. "Even just seeing her face and hearing her voice for even a little while is the best part of my week. Sometimes It's the ONLY good part!"
"Cry me a river," Antonia said slyly.
"I'm still not crying! And I'm not a retard either, Queen Bitch Face!" Brittany hollered, her rage surprising everyone in the room. She grabbed her laptop and crept into the campus library, and settled down in one of the over-sized chairs and stared vacantly at the screen.
Santana Lopez is offline.
Five minutes went by. Brittany sniffled and wiped her eyes. She didn't want Santana to know that she'd been crying.
Santana Lopez is offline.
Twenty minutes passed. Brittany leaned her head down on the side of the chair and thought about Santana. She pictured the curves of her face, and the way their skin looked together when Brittany laid her arm on hers.
Santana Lopez is offline.
Twenty minutes turned into two hours. Brittany knew she had to be coming soon. There wasn't much time left of their night.
Santana Lopez is offline.
Time up. Bleary-eyed and disappointed, Brittany continued to stare at the screen. Maybe Santana got held up and would come later. Maybe there was something wrong and she needed her. She just had to wait. She cuddled her laptop closer to her. I'll wait forever just to talk to you, she thought
Santana Lopez is offline.
"Hey wake up kid!" The librarian said, shaking Brittany gently. "We don't allow people to sleep in here."
"I'm not sleeping," Brittany murmured, her eyes focusing back onto her computer screen. The time said it was nearly 3am, her best study time. It was lucky that the librarian had just woke her up, because now she had to study math for finals.
Santana Lopez is offline.
"Sorry dear, but you were sleeping, and you were shouting in your sleep. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine Ma'am," Brittany said, politely.
The librarian eyed her suspiciously, then her eyes softened. "It's 'dead week' next week isn't it? Are you getting a head start on cramming for finals? Finals can be nerve wracking for you freshmen, especially if you've been living on coffee and have been pulling all-nighters several nights in a row."
"Yep, that's it, and I was just leaving," Brittany said hurriedly, not wanting to cause any more problems. She gathered up her stuff and was out of there before the librarian could voice any more concerns. By the time she got back to her room, there was only Antonia and a couple of crashers that had partied a little bit too hard. Antonia was asleep.
Brittany picked her way through the mess, and began clearing it away, unable to study with so much chaos around her. It was 4:30 when she finished, and she checked her laptop just in case, even though she knew it was hopeless.
Santana Lopez is offline
From Brittany
To Santana
Subject: Penii
Hey San, are you coming home for Christmas?
I saw so many penis's last night. Is this what college life is all about? And is the plural of that word actually penii? Cause that totally sounds better.
One of the many penii was species, duck, and extra long, long enough to have a mind of its own, I think. So I stepped away into the corner of the room so it didn't shoot out and tap me on the shoulder or something, or worse try to coil itself around me like a boa constrictor.
I guess you got held up right and couldn't get online? That's okay, don't worry about it, but I missed you.
From Brittany
To Santana
Subject: Finals
Hi San,
We've almost finished dead week now, and I see how it gets its name cause I feel totally dead, and I kind of want to set my statistics book on fire. I'm sorry if like the last… eleven emails I sent you were in zombie language. I tried my best, but hopefully you can translate mmfdffgggggg sounds if you need to.
The only good part about it was that it was finally considered socially acceptable for me to just hand out candy to random people. In dead week, everyone totally agrees that candy brings joy. I tried to keep everyone's energy levels up. I like being a candy fairy.
My first final is soon… I hope I pass, 'cause I had a hard time passing the midterms. Good luck on your exams too. You'll call me after you've sat them all, and you'll tell me how you went, right?
I love you. Call me when you can, okay? I've got the place to myself all night tonight. Well, Kurt's here too 'cause he's staying over.
But if you wanted to, you could call me, even for just a little while. I know he wouldn't mind…
6- Madness
"I FUCKING LOVE YOU, BRITTANY!" Santana hollered down the phone instead of saying hello. A loud crash sounded.
"Oh," Brittany said, feeling warm and happy all of a sudden. "I didn't know you were really gonna call me, San. And um… I fucking love you too. What's all that noise? Where are you?"
"I FUCKING LOVE YOUUU!"
"I love you too, Santana, but what are you doing?"
"Puck is looking for that Smurf-hunter Gargamel up the exhaust pipe of his car," Santana said laughing hysterically.
"Oh! That's silly," Brittany giggled with her. "Everyone knows that Gargamel travels by vortex on the Forbidden Falls."
Santana kept laughing.
"So how have you been, San? I don't know how I'm going to get through the finals coming up. They have twice as much math than the midterms. I miss how you used to explain everything to me when we were younger, did I ever thank you properly for that?"
"I fucking love you, Britt!" Santana said again.
"Honey, I know. Hey, are you okay?" Santana's acting weird again, she thought.
Santana made an effort to lower her voice. "There isn't a guy in this room who hasn't touched my boobs! But before that I got sick."
Brittany could tell she was pouting. "You're sick?" she asked, trying to follow.
"Yeah, and nobody took care of me like you always do! I loooove you!"
"I wish I was there, Santana," Brittany said slowly, finally getting clued in. "Have you taken something again, or are you just really drunk?"
"Yes, yes, yes!" Santana agreed, without really telling her. "Puck gets the best stuff."
"Santana," Brittany warned, wishing she'd learn to stay away from all substances that made her either angry or crazy. Or sick, she thought worriedly.
"Oh, you spoil sport. This stuff rocks. It keeps me from thinking about you ALL THE TIME!" Santana practically shouted down the phone.
"What's wrong with thinking about me all the time?" Brittany asked. "I think about you all the time, and I don't ever want to stop."
"It fucking hurts," Santana told her.
Brittany shrugged, even though she knew Santana couldn't see. "Well, yeah, but it hurts way more when I don't think about you, and when I don't keep you with me in my mind."
Santana finally went quiet, and Brittany's heart thudded noisily in her chest, trying to fill up the silence. "San, I wish I could hug you right now-"
Santana nodded, her earrings scratching against the speaker. "I wish I could hug you too."
"And kiss you," Brittany added hopefully, feeling her heart stop thudding and instead begin to twist around painfully with longing. It was like being homesick for a person, not a place.
"And kiss you," Santana confirmed. "Look Britt, I've got to go, they are all waiting for me." The dial tone clicked.
"You take care," Brittany said into the dead receiver, then stuck her head out of the window and screamed, "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
Kurt blinked several times, and stared at her from where he was sitting cross-legged in a chair across the room. "Venting your frustrations?"
"Yeah," Brittany agreed. "It's kind of a tradition around here to go all primal and stick your head out the window and scream in the week before finals. Seriously, nobody even gets mad at you, and you can scream as many times as you need to. I haven't even been frowned at yet."
She paused. "Well, at least, I think I haven't," Brittany said uncertainly, frowning herself as she tried to picture people's faces from her week. "Tonight is the last night that you can do it though."
Kurt changed the subject. "Was that Santana?" he asked, even though he already knew the answer.
"Yeah."
He couldn't let it go. "Well, what was it this time? A drunk call, a stoned call, or a high call?"
"Undetermined," Brittany sighed. "She sounded a bit more far gone this time, so whatever it was, it was strong."
He nodded. He knew how hard Santana could party.
"Oh, by the way, thanks for sexile-ing Antonia," Brittany said gratefully.
"I don't know anyone by that name," Kurt said with a grin, "but I don't think that your roommate, The Grand High Queen Bitch Face, will be back tonight."
Brittany giggled softly. "She totally bought it that you were my old boyfriend coming around for some shallow boob seeking, and well... she kicks me out of the room all the time for her booty calls, so I guess that she realized that she owed me one."
Kurt laughed. "She's a bit dim isn't she? How did she not even suspect that I'm a sweater-wearing theatre-loving flaming homosexual?"
Brittany laughed with him. "You know, I'm so glad that you came, but you didn't have to, you know. I'm okay, and I'm only going to be boring because I have to learn like thirteen chapters of this before tomorrow, even though I've already read them like four times over already. And, hey, shouldn't you be studying too?"
"My exams are kind of different to yours. Britt, and I've already finished them. You get some rest, okay? All that stuff you're talking about can wait."
"Kurt I'm barely passing as it is. I have to keep going. Never quit, remember?"
"Yes, yes I know," Kurt agreed. "But I'd like for there to be something left of you, so you can come and visit me at Christmas."
Brittany looked at him gratefully. At least someone wanted to see her for Christmas.
While Kurt was adding his name to the events page on her calendar, she pulled out one of her textbooks again, and started to circle an important part with a pink marker. She could feel Kurt's eyes on her, and she wondered why he was staring.
"Are you picturing me with blue skin like in that Avatar movie?" she asked, "'cause I totally do that all the time. Some people just suit the Na'vi race better than others."
"No, it's just… that... you're getting really thin, Britt. What, have you lost like eight pounds?" he joked, hoping he was exaggerating.
"It's more like fifteen," Brittany muttered.
Kurt's smile froze on his face and twisted into a grimace. "You know, the much over referenced 'Freshman 15' rule states that people usually gain that much weight in their first year, not lose it," he said.
She didn't weigh that much to begin with, he worried. Fifteen pounds on her is probably like ten percent of her normal weight.
Brittany hung her head. "I know."
Or fifteen percent of her? More? He knew his math wasn't good, but screw the math. He could already see in front of him how dramatically different she looked. "So what is it? Haven't you got enough money? Do you want me to talk to your mom, or maybe even I could help?"
"It's not about money."
"Are you skipping meals because of your schedule?" Kurt pressed. "I think I saw a sign saying they're doing midnight breakfast's in the dining hall? You want to go get something?"
Brittany was silent.
Kurt's voice was soft. "I guess heartache doesn't make people feel very hungry, huh?"
"Eating just makes me feel sick lately," Brittany admitted. "Maybe it's because I'm always thinking about stuff that makes my tummy feel sick, like passing everything so I can stay here, or about whether Santana is okay. It's that, but it's not just that, it's also this room."
She stood up and began to pace the area like a caged animal.
"This room, is messy and loud, and I never feel safe here. I can't relax in this space. The colors are wrong, and nothing is in its place, and my cat isn't here, and nothing belongs to me. But mostly this room is wrong because she's never been here."
Kurt searched his brain for anything that might help her, and getting an idea he turned his attention to the still open window in her room.
"Britts, how about I try a bit of that dead week primal screaming that you were doing before? You want to do it with me? It might be cathartic."
Kurt always uses such big words, Brittany thought. Cat-arctic? Maybe he means I might feel as free as like…. a snow leopard? That could work…except… well…
She voiced her only concern out loud. "But if you do it, then everyone will hear you, and they will all know that I've got a boy in my room!"
"Have you heard me scream, Britt?" Kurt said with a sly grin. "Nobody will think that there are any boys here."
"Yeah, you do kind of scream like a girl. Okay."
They both stuck their head out the window. "AHHHHHHHHHHHH!" they screamed in unison, and were promptly joined by two girls in the room below them.
Brittany waited for any hoots or holler or jeers that might indicate that someone thought she was getting lucky tonight and/or beginning a new series of 'Blonde's gone wild.'
None came, and she relaxed.
"They did not suspect that you have a penis," she told Kurt matter-of-factly.
He rolled his eyes. "Even I have to check sometimes," he joked, winking at her in case she didn't get it and took him literally.
She tried to smile, but he could tell that it was strained.
"Did it help?" he asked.
"Yeah, it was totally cat-arctic. But you do know that Snow Leopards don't actually roar though, right? So I guess you mean another cat that has adapted to a cold climate, like maybe the Norwgian Forest Cat. If you keep the Forest Cat in captivity with a louder animal they could totally learn to roar as loud as we just did, and plus, they're big. Like, Maine Coone big. And as for their known cat diseases, well, they are totally susceptible to kidney and heart problems and-"
"Woah, woah, woah," Kurt held up his hands. Brittany had been 'going off' like that a lot lately. "It's 'cathartic' and I got that word out of one of your books. You'd underlined it three times like it was something important."
"I had?"
"Yeah. Apparently it's all about expressing repressed emotions, like screaming to get your frustration out, or dancing to blow off some steam."
"Oh."
"Britt, that last chapter you just read, what was it about?"
"I have no idea," Brittany confessed.
"Right, well you're going to bed okay? You're not taking in anything anymore. Just sleep."
"I'm being kind of crazy, right?" Brittany asked him, searching for his honesty.
Kurt gave her an affectionate pat. "Yeah, you are sweetie, but you're my crazy kid."
"And you're my sweater-wearing theatre-loving flaming homosexual," Brittany said just as affectionately back, repeating his words from before.
There was a silence, and Brittany lay down beside him, and she felt his arm come around her.
"I know I'm not her, but I am here for you," Kurt said stressing the words. "I'm at least a bit of comfort right?"
"Yeah, of course you are," Brittany told him. "Without you I'd probably have turned around and come back home on the first day," she said sleepily.
"That's a load of crap," Kurt said softly. "You underestimate yourself."
Brittany waited and listened to his breathing slowly even out. She squeezed her eyes shut willing herself to sleep, tossing and turning while Kurt slept on, his arm still loosely draped over her.
Eventually, after another hour of shifting around uncomfortably, she admitted defeat and accepted that for some awful reason, a ghost felt more right than anything real. She wanted to stay here, enjoying the affection from her friend, but somehow she couldn't just be with him, and for that she felt wrong and undeserving.
Silently, she rolled off the bed and lay down to sleep on the floor. I'm addicted to you, she thought as she drifted off, feeling the ghost of Santana's arms finally come and wrap themselves tightly around her waist, stroking her hair and putting her to sleep..
From Brittany
To Santana
Subject: Christmas
I missed you at Christmas. I didn't want to put the tree up or anything without you.
But, the good news is that I passed all my finals! Somehow, I actually remembered everything. I tried really hard.
You're proud of me right?
I still wait for you on Tuesdays you know. Just in case.
I've got a song for you… My roommate is out, so I can sing it as loud as I want.
"I text a postcard, sent to you
Did it go through?
Sending all my love to you
You are the moonlight of my life every night
Giving all my love to you
My beating heart belongs to you
I walked for miles til I found you
I'm here to honor you
If I lose everything in the fire
I'm sending all my love to you
With every breath that I am worth
Here on Earth I'm sending all my love to you
So if you dare to second guess
You can rest assured
That all my love's for you"
From Santana
To Brittany
Subject: Sorry
I'm sorry for all the times that I've called you when I'm drunk or on something lately. You should just ignore me and you don't even have to pick up next time. Oh, and definitely ignore everything that i've said, because I don't mean it.
From Brittany
To Santana
Subject: Re:Sorry
I could never just ignore you, and besides, when you call me like that you mostly just tell me you love me. You really don't mean that?
7- Loss
"Let go!" Brittany tried to shout, but found no sound was coming out. "Let go! Santana help me! Santana where are you!"
The invisible force closed around her throat, squeezing her tighter, then she felt something clamp down hard on her mouth.
"Santana!" Brittany tried again, her voice coming out in a muffled whisper. "Help me!"
"Jesus, Britt," Antonia groaned. "Just wake up and knock it off."
Brittany's eyes flew open, and she immediately realized that the hand around her throat, and the one on her mouth belonged to Antonia. She gasped, finding it difficult to breathe.
"I'm not actually choking you," Antonia complained, "and you could wake up the entire building screaming like that. I came over and put my hand on your throat to try and get you to stop talking in your sleep. I had no idea that as soon as I touched you, you would start screaming like a crazy person."
Finally, she moved her hand, and Brittany breathed in slowly in relief.
Antonia sighed dramatically. "I'm tired, and with you always talking and moaning and grinding your teeth in your sleep over there, I personally haven't had a good night's sleep in months. Maybe I haven't even slept well since I went home for Christmas! And when you're not impersonating Moaning Myrtle, you're flipping through our textbook at all hours of the night or drawing up math posters, which by the way, completely fucks up the décor of this room. Why do you always have to bring what we learn in class in here?"
She paused for effect.
"Now please, please, tell me that you're not going to add routinely screaming for your ex-girfriend to that already incredibly annoying list."
"She's not my ex, and she's gonna marry me one day," Brittany insisted. "But I'm sorry for screaming, I didn't mean to. And the posters are supposed to help you as well, I mean we've got our next final coming up soon."
"Yeah, whatever. Look Brittany, in the past couple of months, I've actually sort of become kind of fond of you. Maybe it's because I feel sorry for you always mooning around after that girl, or maybe it's because I still have a supply of chocolate from Easter, because somehow bringing you around with me for that one day over Spring Break was the biggest chocolate egg payoff in history. I mean, seriously, do people usually just practically throw chocolate at you like that whenever you walk by? All you had to do was skip around the day after Easter, carrying an Easter Basket, and leftover chocolate was coming at us from old ladies, from kids and from freaking shopkeepers tipping their entire complementary dishes of it in, as soon as you flashed a smile at them."
Brittany leaned down to look at her stash under her bed. "We totally needed a bigger basket," she agreed, rubbing at her head. It seemed to always hurt lately.
"It was so freaking weird, and what's even weirder, is that it's been ages and you still haven't even eaten any of yours yet," Antonia muttered, then her voice became stronger. "And as I was saying, just 'cause I'm kind of used to you now, that doesn't mean I'm just gonna put up with the Myrtle routine, or that huge bell curve poster you put on our fridge."
Brittany looked up. "We're sort of friends now, right Antonia?"
I'm pretty sure she hasn't called me a retard since early in March, she thought hopefully, scanning over her memories and finding this to be true.
Antonia's voice was gruff. "Yeah. I guess so. But can you just answer your cell before I call the forty watt club and get them to take you away?"
"My cell. Oh Okay! Yes!" Brittany came to life instantly, suddenly realizing how long it had been ringing and grabbing it.
"Santana! Hey! I was just thinking about you and-"
"I'm transferring," Santana interrupted. "Fuck law school, it's not for me. What's the point of studying to be an an advocate of the law if you're out there breaking it the rest of the time? Oh, sorry were you sleeping?"
"Um… no, I was already awake." She tried to make her voice sound like she wasn't sleepy. Like she wasn't even tired. "You have a point there," she agreed. "What are you going to do?"
"Transfer into med school, I think. I didn't want to follow in my dad's deadbeat footsteps, but it's calling me."
A voice sounded in the background. "She slept with one of the TA's!"
"Shut up!" Santana hissed back. "He's lying. Mostly. Maybe I flirted a little, but that's it. It's not my fault that Mrs Kravitz saw us and ratted me out. You believe me right?"
Ohhh.. Mrs Kravitz was that nosy neighbor in that old show we used to watch called Bewitched, Brittany thought, slowly getting the reference. She spoke out loud, "Of course I believe you, San."
"I knew you would," Santana said, but Brittany could hear the relief in her voice. "People are such fuckwits here."
"Fuckwits," Brittany repeated.
Santana wasn't finished. "And the research assignments suck. I mean, I save most of my word documents these days as 'fuckyou . doc' That's how much rage they give me."
"I saved one of mine as 'ihatemath . doc' recently," Brittany confessed, and then moved on. "Okay, so med school? You want to help people? Doctor's help people. That's really cool."
Santana scoffed. "Fuck no, I'm not going near people except to show them how research in this field is actually done. I'm tired of hearing all this crap on news channels about shit going down with people not backing their ideas up with evidence."
"Okay. Well, that's still awesome. Um... how is Puck?" She sighed. She knew she had to ask, but she really hated this part.
Santana's voice seemed to soften up a little, or maybe she just got quieter so the people in the same room as her couldn't hear her. Brittany couldn't be sure.
"I was really mad at him because he kept talking to this girl on Facebook and the little bitch was flirting with him relentlessly, so basically I called him freaking out. But then he came home with flowers and kissed me and told me he'd never actually cheat on me, because that was the old Puck and I could trust him now. He swore on Beth. Life is good."
"Life is good," Brittany repeated, feeling her stomach twisting around in knots at the thought for some reason.
"Yes. Things seem to be actually working out for once."
"When are we going to be together?" Brittany asked quietly. "When are you coming to get me?" It was a question that she had asked many times at the end of their phone calls. The answer was usually the same, but she always hoped that one day it would be different.
"I don't know. Not now. Maybe soon. So how about you Britt? How is your life?"
"Life is good," Brittany repeated the phrase because she had nothing better to say. Santana's answer, and her promises hadn't changed, but moments ago, something in Brittany's heart had. For some reason, talking to Santana this time hadn't filled her up and made her warm inside, it had only brought some kind of coldness inside her that felt a lot like despair, and she didn't like it.
When Santana hung up she didn't sleep. With the light of her torch she made shadow puppets on the wall, twisting her fingers into broken heart shapes while she waited for the sun to rise.
From Brittany
To Santana
Subject: None
Status: Draft
…
8- Breakdown
Kurt gripped Antonia's wrist roughly to get her attention. "What did you do? Did you tell her about what goes on at the animal shelter shelter again? You know how that upsets her. You know she can't stand to hear about the millions of animals that are put down every year."
Antonia shook her head. "I swear I never even mentioned anything about the dead cats. Or the dead dogs. She's been weird for days, but I came in today and she was… like this."
"What are we going to do about her?" Kurt whispered.
"Well I'm not doing a thing," Antonia whispered back, looking frightened. "I've asked to switch rooms. I'm not sticking around."
"But she's your roommate," Kurt hissed. "You've been living together for a year now, don't you care about her?"
"She was my roommate, but she's not my problem," Antonia stressed, rolling up the 'I'm a bitch' poster to go.
"I really didn't do anything to her by the way," she informed him. "I've actually been trying to help her lately. I wake her up when she falls asleep in class, and I've been totally patient reminding her about how to use the coin laundry."
She paused.
"This isn't on me," she stated, "She's been a nightmare this whole time, always insisting that things stay in the exact same place in the room so she can find them, and ranting about her girlfriend, and for a while now she's even been shouting her name in her sleep. And, now this? I have a right to just leave."
She exited the room quickly, and closed the door.
Kurt doubted that she would be back, but maybe it was for the best. He knew that Brittany would miss her, even if Antonia hadn't exactly always been nice to her.
But, at least she had been concerned enough to call me and tell me about Brittany's "creepy glassy-eyed stare," he reasoned. And she deserves some credit for letting me know that Brittany hasn't been very... active lately.
He'd already been suspicious when Brittany hadn't been returning his calls, so he'd packed up and left seconds after receiving Antonia's. He knew that something had to be definitely wrong if even Antonia was worried.
He'd hoped that Antonia had been exaggerating, but even if he'd believed her, he still wouldn't have been expecting Brittany to look like this.
"Britt. Hey," he said, noticing that she was stirring and that she looked like she was about to roll off her bed. He pushed her back to the middle gently. After tossing around restlessly for a few moments she lay still again.
She hadn't acknowledged him when he'd arrived. Instead, she had continued to sit motionlessly on one of the standard dorm room chairs that he personally knew were really uncomfortable. After a while he he'd grown frustrated by the silence, and he had picked her up and set her down on her bed, where she had immediately sank down, curled around herself, and fallen asleep.
She kind of looks like she's barely breathing now. If I didn't know better I'd think she was in a coma, Kurt thought.
He looked her over, over wondering what could have brought this on. It wasn't like the complexities of the human mind was his department. It was supposed to be hers, and it was what she was studying.
His classes on modern fashion, as brilliant as they were, had no relevance here.
While he was waiting for Brittany to wake up, he had passed the time by flipping through her books on biology, cognition and psychological disturbance, but he had found next to nothing that could tell him how he could help her.
Right now he was looking especially hard at the pages that she had highlighted rainbow with markers, complete with codes and clues to help her remember the text.
It looks like a rainbow has thrown up all over her textbook, he thought, and he couldn't help smiling once, before remembering where he was and finally shutting the books in frustration.
This is some kind of breakdown, he thought deciding that it mattered less what the breakdown was called, and more that he fixed it. The goal was now to get Brittany focused again, and out of bed.
"Santana," Brittany murmured in her sleep.
He guessed that he should of seen this coming.
Perhaps he should have known that they would end up here almost a year ago when he first saw her in that unsure, overanxious state that had overcome her on the same day that Santana had left.
He remembered the desperation on her face as she'd tried to keep busy and forget about everything.
It wasn't like she had rushed around his house burning a hole in his carpet, and organizing and reorganizing everything that he owned all day for nothing.
He'd known right from the start that she had been doing all that to try and gain some kind of control over her mind and stop thinking so much about missing Santana.
He stood up and kicked a red solo cup around the room. Wasn't having a loss of control of yourself the main sign of being an addict? Kurt sighed.
But distraction hadn't worked out for her, he thought. If anything, her mind had rebelled and had started to remind him of that Hoarder Henry guy's house from across the street. When she distracted herself, the thoughts just piled up high to the ceiling like Henry's old newspapers that were practically exploding through his windows.
So, after a while she'd just given in to thinking about Santana more than ever.
She was kind of like Henry shutting himself in with all his treasures.
And, in the past few months especially, she had kind of been shutting everyone else out. He had barely heard from her since Christmas.
He glanced over at the corner of the room. After a whole year, Brittany's suitcase was still packed up, with a ribbon tied to the top. The forlorn, but hopeful suitcase still sitting there waiting, struck a chord with him.
It seemed like she was always waiting, no matter where she was, and that she couldn't stop. Even though she wasn't here, everything Brittany did still revolved around Santana.
"And it's hurting you," he said to her softly. "This isn't healthy."
He looked over at her thin frame, and saw more loose hair than there should be on her pillow.
He brushed it away, and stroked her hair, finding that more came out in his hand. The waiting days had turned into months, and these months could turn into years, and that scared him.
Brittany began to stir.
"You're too thin, Britt, and you're too stressed," he said. "Your hair is falling out."
"Eating and sleeping is important," she said softly to him, her voice crackling.
"Yes," he said, encouraged that she was talking to him again. "Come on now, get up okay, just get up. You'll feel better."
She blinked at him slowly. "I'm so tired, I'm so tired," she mumbled, slowly turning away from him.
"Hey, hey, we got rid of Queen Bitch face for good," he joked cupping her chin, and keeping her from looking away.
She finally focused and looked up at him, and he shuddered inwardly. He'd never seen her look at him with such dead eyes.
"What happened, Britt," he said to her softly, keeping his hand on her face.
Brittany's voice was ashamed and quiet. "I couldn't do it without her, Kurt. I tried, I'm sorry. I'm just not anything without her."
"Never quit," he said firmly. "Remember?"
College seemed the furthered thing from Brittany's mind. "She moved on. I can tell. I just need to see her. Life is good," Brittany rambled.
"Brittany," Kurt tried again, then seemed to change his mind. She wasn't in any condition to think straight right now. He placed his arm on hers. "Go home, Dorothy" he said. "Go back to your cat, and be where you feel comfortable, with people that will support you, and then try again."
"You want me to quit?" Brittany asked, confused.
"You're just gonna move back home, that's all. You can still get here by bus every day even though it will be a long trip, and there's a lot you can do online by distance. It's not quitting. We'll get an extension on everything you've got due for now, and it will all work out, I promise."
Brittany's face seemed to crumple and she gave in to tears. "I just need to see her," she sobbed. "I need her. It's not fair."
They didn't drive home right away. Instead, they drove to Kurt's grandparent's beach house, and the whole time, Brittany seemed half out of it, speaking only to tell Kurt over and over how much she wanted to see Santana, and once again to ask him how he knew the way in the dark.
"Do you have bat sonar, Kurt?"
The next day, the call came just as the sun was going down. For hours they had just been sitting together on the sand with the waves lazily licking their feet.
"It's my dad," Kurt lied, and before he got up to leave, he put his hand on Brittany's shoulder. She turned her head slightly in response, and looked at him quizzically.
"I won't be long," he promised, and she nodded. She hadn't heard his cell ring at all, she had been too focused on the sounds of the waves.
"What?" Kurt asked when he was exactly fifteen steps away, lowering his voice even though he was sure that fifteen steps was far enough away for the call to be private. Or at least he hoped so. Brittany practically had tawny owl-like hearing.
"She's not replying to me," Santana barked down the phone. "What's happening?"
Kurt's tone was dry. "Hello to you too."
"Has someone been trash talking me? Turning her against me?" Santana raged, unsure of what was going on.
Kurt wondered how to diffuse the situation. "No, she's just not feeling very well right now. Maybe you should come by and cheer her up."
Santana went silent, and there was an extended awkward pause. "Is she…" she stuttered. "You know how she gets. Is she talking?"
"Yeah, she's talking," Kurt said, but his tone wasn't reassuring. He had no idea how to begin to tell Santana how serious he thought things were right now. He heard a voice in a background followed by what he guessed was Santana hastily covering the speaker to yell something back.
"Kurt, I've got to go." He heard her breath hitch.
"She'd like to see you," Kurt said firmly. Although he was no longer sure if Santana seeing her would help things, he still felt he had to pass the message across. He relayed the address and the second he was done, he knew the connection had gone dead.
9- Addiction
After a couple of days by the beach, Brittany's health had only slightly improved. Kurt had resorted to begging her to snap out of it, and although she had tried, she couldn't seem to do what he asked.
Today was the first day that he had actually managed to get her moving around in what passed for a walk, and she was now edging herself along the shoreline, deep in her remembering, and sluggishly tracing other people's footsteps that the beach had long since forgotten.
"I think that this person is a clown, San" she said, stepping in an abnormally large footprint and wriggling her toes. "Or it could have been Shaquille O'Neal."
"I like the little puppy pawprints," Santana said.
"Me too," Brittany agreed, walking on tiptoes to trace them.
"It's kind of cold today, isn't it?" Brittany said uncertainly, trying to make conversation. She always felt the cold when nobody else ever seemed to, but she thought that she had to be right this time. "The water is cold."
"It's not too bad," Kurt answered. "If we got in I don't think we would even notice it."
"Are there any bitey fish in the water?"
"I don't think so." Kurt looked her over. He'd sat up last night thinking about what she must be going through, and trying to figure out how he could help, and the more he thought about it, the more he understood why she had gone all Girl, Interrupted on him.
It's not just that she loves and misses Santana, Kurt thought. It's more than the emotional side, and it's not just about the 'hole left in the city' like she said, or even about the hole in her heart. It's about the fact that she only knows one way to survive and get by, and that way includes Santana.
He watched her put her toe in and wait, nodding at him when she realized her toe wasn't feeling the cold anymore.
I'm pretty sure that she has some kind of disorder, Kurt thought, reaching over and holding her hand. I think I've always known that. Maybe it's ADD or Autism, or something similar. It would make a lot of sense, but in the end I don't care. She's just Brittany.
Brittany started wading out further, but he could tell it was only to please him.
But whatever disorder she has, Santana had definitely helped her hide it better, he realized. He knew that this new college-Britt was the real Brittany stripped away without Santana there to keep her going and pick up the slack.
He knew that those two had a long inseparable history together, and that Santana had always been there to hide the flaws that the pair thought that nobody could see.
He knew more than they thought he did. While Brittany had given as much as she could back to her in different ways, he had seen firsthand how much Santana had always done for her. He had noticed that whenever Brittany couldn't explain herself, Santana would jump in and do it for her, somehow always knowing what Brittany wanted to say.
He had seen that when she couldn't understand something, Santana would lean down and whisper things in her ear.
Santana had always fought Brittany's battles for her, chasing off bullies and getting her out of trouble with her teachers, comforting her when she was afraid, in a way that she never did with anyone else.
When Brittany forgot to take care of herself, Santana had done it for her, going out of her way to make sure she was eating and sleeping, and not coming to school without a jacket in freezing weather.
It's like the most complete kind of dependency, Kurt thought to himself, kicking a shell out of his path. She's not just emotionally dependent on her, she's physically dependent on her as well, and with all that going on, when she got cut off from her, she didn't know what to do with herself.
She doesn't know how to be Brittany without her. She has to relearn everything she's ever known, because the most integral part of her world isn't there anymore. For her its like being on a deserted island and having to learn to start a fire by hand when she'd always had matches.
He knew that ready for this or not, she had tried hard. She had held out for nearly a year, but in the end she had worn down and she had crashed. He didn't know what the solution was. He knew that it wasn't to get Santana to do everything for her again, because he knew that somehow, Brittany had to learn to find her own way now.
But he still wished like hell that he could make this easier for her.
"Britt, be careful okay," Kurt told her, having seen something she hadn't seen yet. Speak of the devil, here comes Satan now.
He stared her down, trying to communicate words to the dark-haired girl with his eyes, telling her that she had better not make things any worse.
Even from the distance, he thought he saw the slight nod.
Brittany was shrinking back. "Be careful? Oh, did you see a bitey one? A piranha fish?"
"No, I mean be careful of your heart." It wasn't the first time he had said this to her. "I'll leave you two alone."
Brittany looked up slowly, and thought that she had to be dreaming when she saw Santana hesitantly walking towards them in a long flowing dress. Her hair was blown back in the wind and Brittany could see that she had no shoes on. A year had only made her more beautiful, although Brittany couldn't see any obvious changes.
Perhaps it is just that she will always be more beautiful in person, than in the picture held in my mind, she thought.
"You're here now," Brittany uttered softly, knowing that while Santana was still so far away, her voice wouldn't carry to her across the distance and over the wind. Then, with more energy than she could remember having in a long time, she ran across the sand, zigzagging and trying not to trip on all the holes left there by children. When she got close enough, she threw herself forward, reaching her arms out to catch her in a desperate embrace.
The second they touched, something in Santana seemed to change, and as her knees went wobbly she slid down Brittany's body. Falling to her knees, she pressed her face hard into Brittany's stomach, while sudden guttural sobs seemed to shake and tear through her.
Brittany was so shocked that she froze up, her arms going stiff, and for a few moments after the other girl had hit the ground she could only place her hands on Santana's shoulders in shock.
She noticed a burn mark on Santana's hand that was clutching her shirt in a tight fist. "Oh… does this hurt?" she asked, pulling out a small packet of sugar that she'd been hoarding and pouring it over the wound. It kind of looked like a cigarette burn. "Sugar reduces the swelling. Remember when you poured like a whole bag of it over me the day that I fell off my bike?"
Santana only cried harder
Whatever deep funk Brittany had been in melted away instantly, and she quickly knelt down to gather Santana in her arms, holding her as tight as she could. What is going on? she thought. Santana's desperate sobs were almost indescribable to Brittany's mind. I've seen her cry before, but I've never seen her cry like this.
"What's wrong," she whispered, feeling the year that they had spent apart seem to mean less and less every second. "What's wrong San?"
For the longest time, Santana didn't try to speak, and Brittany held her together, arms secure around her, her fingers occasionally grazing the back of her head or her neck, as she tried to reassure her that she was here for her.
"It's okay," Brittany whispered, cradling her. "It's okay honey, we'll work it out. I love you."
Twenty minutes later, Santana was still shaking violently, and was showing no signs of being able to stop crying.
As she kissed the top of Santana's head, Brittany realized that all people break down in different ways.
I broke down and stopped functioning, Brittany thought, remembering the haze and blurred moments of the past few weeks. I was sad out in the open, and everyone saw.
Santana has always been different. She buries her feelings, and suffers them in private, she acknowledged to herself.
Holding her now, Brittany could feel that Santana was obviously not as happy as she had been making herself out to be in her messages, and she had probably also been lying to herself, and even to the world for a long time about how she really felt.
In a flash, Brittany understood that Santana's drinking and all the drugs that she had taken hadn't really been about partying, she had used them instead to bury her feelings down further, and to push everyone else away.
Maybe Santana really had been the one to break down first, it was just that nobody else could see it, Brittany thought. She keeps everything as a secret, and the only thing that's different here, is that I don't know how to keep secrets like she does.
Brittany had thought that she was the only one that was addicted to their relationship, but maybe that wasn't true.
"I understand," Brittany murmured in her ear. "I felt the same way the whole time."
Santana wheezed, trying to speak, and Brittany had to strain to hear. "It's like you've always been the air I breathe," Santana whispered. "And I was cut off except for this tiny piece of you that I got through letters and over the phone, and it was like I couldn't breathe. I had to find other ways, and other things, and sometimes it felt like all my oxygen was gone, and that I was breathing carbon monoxide."
The pain in her words tore through Brittany, and it felt like a wake-up call.
I shouldn't have let myself get to that point, Brittany realized. She was hurting just as much as me. I got a trip to a beach house to recover, and what does she get? She gets nothing 'cause she doesn't talk about it.
From now on, I'm going to be stronger, Brittany thought determinedly. Because I need to be strong now, for us both.
Without warning Santana stood up, pulling Brittany with her. "I need you now, Britt" she begged, pulling on Brittany's hand, her eyes glittering with tears of desperation. Maybe if she touches me enough I'll feel like I can breathe again, Santana thought, trying to swallow away the lump in her throat.
It didn't take them long to be in the first room they found with a bed, peeling off each others layers. Santana shed the dress she was wearing quickly as if anything that could keep her from Brittany's skin was almost offensive to her. She tugged on Brittany's shirt, her movements rushed and almost frantic, while Brittany whose hands was slow and steady, found herself needing to help Santana's shaking hands undo the buttons and get her bra undone.
"Take your time," Brittany said to her gently, watching her struggle. She had waited a year to be with Santana again, and she knew she could wait longer.
"No…," Santana said pushing her down, her need overpowering her ability to form words. "Touch me."
She gripped Brittany's shoulders pushing her hair out of the way, and then she pressed her face into her bare skin and inhaled slowly.
Brittany bit her lip. She really wants to be with me, she thought, feeling her face light up in a smile.
She trailed her hands down her spine, feeling Santana lower her head and kiss every inch of her that she could reach before rolling them over so she was on top. She leaned over her, relying on her upper body strength to keep herself suspended. "Touch me Britt… harder," she said again, moaning softly as she felt the heat building.
It was a familiar feeling to Brittany, she remembered this dance in its every detail, and she felt all her senses screaming in recognition. She could feel Santana breathing hard against her, wanting them to rush. Brittany shook her head, setting the pace with slow lingering kisses. She wanted to slow this down as much as she could, wanting to savor every moment. She had no idea which part of Santana that she wanted to kiss most, and by the lack of any pattern happening when Santana kissed her back, she guessed she felt the same way.
She clutched at her, letting Santana's hips fall into hers and rock against her in a steady rhythm. She had a thin sheen of sweat coating her forehead and her lips were already swollen.
She is just so beautiful, Brittany thought, running her hands over her and focusing on the texture of her skin. She had always felt just right to her fingers, not too hard, and not too soft.
"Harder, Britt, be rough," Santana asked again, but her voice was more uncertain this time.
Brittany shook her head slowly, before parting her lips and kissing her again. Hard and rough was how the boys touched her. Santana had always said it was different with Brittany, and that she liked it different, all soft and gentle.
"Remember… us… Santana," Brittany said between kisses, feeling Santana start to suck on her neck, edging towards the middle and licking her slowly, travelling down between her breasts all the way to her bellybutton and lingering there as if greeting an old friend. Brittany smiled. Santana had always told her that she had the cutest belly button.
"Britt…," Santana whined, breathlessly, turning her head.
"Okay," Brittany said softly. She knew what she wanted. With an open palm, she pushed gently on Santana's stomach, until she got the hint to lie down.
As soon as she had, Brittany leaned on the other girl's thighs and slid her finger closer to Santana's center, noticing that she parted her legs for easier access.
Santana was already writhing underneath her when she rubbed her thumb over the sensitive part at her entrance, and then slid her finger in, moving it to the spot that she knew she liked best. She felt wet, more wet than Brittany could ever remember her being.
She pushed her finger forward easily, hearing Santana moan when she reached her core, and clench around her.
"Relax," Brittany whispered, using her other hand to reach out and hold one of Santana's hands tightly. "I love you."
She looked into Santana's eyes seeing the combination of pain and pleasure that she always saw when they did this together. Some times she understood what lay in those eyes better than in others. Loving someone always came with pain, or it wasn't real love. Real feelings held the whole spectrum, and when Santana was open and vulnerable, lying naked before her like this, in spite of her disorder Brittany could see it all.
"I … love… you… too," Santana said breathlessly as Brittany pushed her finger in and out, feeling it slide easier each time. She leaned down and kissed Santana while still inside her, feeling Santana's hips shake under her with waves of pleasure as she came into her hand.
When she was done, Brittany pulled her fingers out and rested her head on Santana's chest trailing her fingers over her stomach.
Santana wasn't trembling anymore, and she seemed calm and relaxed for the first time since Brittany had embraced her on the beach. Peaceful, even.
"I feel good now, I'm in a good place," Santana said simply, and Brittany nodded her understanding into her chest as Santana's arms came around her, holding her tightly.
It was quiet now, it felt like all the sounds of college life were finally gone, the only sounds were that of their love.
Santana's chest was rising and falling slowly, her breathing becoming shallow in the way that it always did before she fell asleep. "I love you, Santana," she told her, hearing a contented sigh in response and a kiss pressed to her forehead.
Brittany struggled to stay awake, but soon felt her own eyes closing, the sense of serenity lulling her into the first peaceful sleep that she'd had in months, wrapped up tight in her lover's arms.
10- Understanding
"I missed the little things the most," Brittany told her, swinging their hands between them as they sat on the boardwalk, dangling their feet over the water.
"Hmm?" Santana asked. "Like having amazing sex?"
Brittany gaped at her like the unseen fish beneath her feet. This was the first time that Santana had ever acknowledged the fact that they had sex together afterwards, or outside of the bedroom. She even said it was amazing, Brittany thought giddily, smiling at her and squeezing her hand.
The had slept for hours, only getting up because Santana had to pee. It didn't look like they were going to beat their old continuous hugging record time of twelve hours and thirty-seven minutes anytime soon. But then again, we're still young, Brittany thought.
They had been sitting in a comfortable silence, talking every now and then about anything that came into their heads.
But I've got something important to say now, Brittany realized, squeezing Santana's hand and turning her attention back to her, her voice turning rough and emotional.
"I missed that too, but everyday, hour by the hour, I always missed the little things, like knowing that you were learning new things without me. Or wondering which movies you were seeing, or if you liked a new flavor of cereal that had just come out, of if you even knew about it. You have a new little freckle here on your shoulder that I haven't seen before, and I know that sounds unimportant, but I like knowing all of your body. You're wearing a dress today that I haven't seen before."
"I bought it last week," Santana said. "I thought you'd like it." She wriggled closer until she could lean on Brittany's shoulder.
"I do," Brittany assured her. Then she kept going. "It was always the little things, like having to go a whole day without hearing your voice. Nothing makes sense without you, you know. I felt like without you, nothing could ever make me happy-"
Santana paused, and then lifted her head up off her shoulder.
"Brittany, as beautiful and romantic as that is, that's also my problem with you," Santana admitted, interrupting her.
"I don't think I'm strong enough to carry you through life. You still don't know who you are without me. You wait for me to tell you what to do and how to do it, and when I'm gone you don't function. I feel pressured to not leave you alone, and I don't want to be pressured, because love isn't about that."
Brittany's eyes immediately filled with tears.
"No, baby, no," Santana said gently, cupping her chin. "Don't cry. The thing is, is that I have the exact same problem. I don't know who I am without you either. You make me better, and without you I think I just kind of suck. I've made a million stupid decisions these past few months trying to find out, and I think so far all i've figured out is that I don't like who I am without you. But that's just it, I don't think you're strong enough to carry me through life either."
She paused for effect.
"You couldn't breathe without me, and I couldn't breathe without you," said Santana. "We're addicts."
"Addicts," Brittany repeated, trying the word on her tongue and saying it out loud for the first time.
"You're like my crack," Santana joked. "And trust me, I'd know."
Brittany couldn't help but to shoot her a worried look.
Santana shrugged. "Maybe it's not healthy for us. You're the psych major."
"Ugh," Brittany said pushing her playfully. "I'm kind of only just passing. I'm saving my word documents as fuckyou . doc now too, same as you. What's the next level of rage after that? Burning the place down? Walking out and quitting?"
"Never quit, Brittany."
Brittany looked up.
"Don't give up on yourself… don't give up on you, just like how you never give up on me," Santana added thickly.
Brittany made a face. "You sound exactly like Kurt."
Santana met her eyes and gave her a look.
"Okay, I know San, and I won't. Really. I always knew I had to keep going, but I guess today made me figure out why."
"Why is that, Britt?"
"Because I'm not special," Brittany explained. "I used to not be able to see how everyone else thinks and feels, and I used to be stuck in my own head. But really, there are billions of people out there fighting all kinds of battles everyday. It's you and me, and it's them, and it's all of us. You reminded me of that. We've all got our own things to face, and I don't get to be the one that lies down on the sidelines and stares into space all day. I'm part of something bigger now, so I have to keep fighting alongside everyone, and it's just called being a part of the world."
Santana smiled a slow smile at her, catching her eye and waiting until she smiled back.
"I just know you're gonna make it, no matter what happens." Santana told her.
Brittany kissed her on the nose. "You will too," she said back, then kissed her on the side of her face when Santana suddenly looked a whole lot less sure. She figured that it would take at least a few more kisses to convince her.
Seven kisses later, with her eyes half closed in contentment, Santana felt around and poked her in the ribs. "How can I not be completely addicted to you and your gorgeous face?"
Brittany was quiet for a moment.
"I don't know if it's smart or if it's healthy, Santana, but I guess being addicted to you just makes me want all of you more," she said slowly. "All of you. Like you have all of me."
"I know," Santana said softly, understanding what she really meant.
Brittany traced a pattern on her arm. "Okay, but did you know that, 'I miss you' in French translates to something more like 'you are missing from me?'"
"Who taught you that?"
"You did, well you did once upon a time." Brittany made her voice drone on like she was reading a storybook.
"Oh." Santana gave a small laugh. "Well, apparently I make a lot of sense then. I guess it means that when I miss you, it's like I'm missing a part of me, right?"
Brittany nodded. "Yeah. When I don't have you it's like I don't have all of me. Sometimes it even feels like without you there isn't much of me at all."
"The French were the first true addicts for love then, yeah?"
"Or maybe they are just a culture of people open enough to use language to tell it like it is when people love each other with everything they have," Brittany offered.
"Maybe," Santana agreed. "I guess that's the debate. But Britt-"
"I know," Brittany interrupted her. "I know we have to learn to breathe without each other. And, when we're apart, the main part that's missing from us can't be our lungs. We need to choose a less vital organ to go away when we have to miss each other."
"And don't say the heart," Santana said firmly. "We need that too."
Brittany grinned wickedly at her for a second, and when she caught up and realized why, Santana burst out laughing. "Oh my god. Don't say vaginas Britt, I know you're about to go there."
"I wasn't," Brittany huffed in mock indignation. "I was gonna say… earlobes."
"Like hell you were," Santana smirked.
"How about hands," Brittany said suddenly. "People can use only one hand and function just fine. When we're apart it just needs to feel like we're still holding hands, but we can go on and do everything else with the other."
"I think that's it, Britt. So long as they are not the hands that we write with."
"Yeah, I totally have to take notes in class. Okay, so I keep your right hand then, San, and you keep my left one."
"I'd like that."
There was a silence, and Brittany knew that she had to tell her the rest of what was on her mind. "It's not time is it? Time for us? This isn't you coming back for me is it?"
"No," Santana said, pulling her close for another hug. "I'm sorry. I have to go back tomorrow."
Brittany nodded, and in the back of her mind, buried under a pile of hopes and dreams, she knew that she wasn't surprised, and that she had even known that before she had run to embrace her yesterday.
Wanting to make the best of it, she smiled and made her voice light. "But we still have today, don't we San?"
"Yeah, we do." Santana sounded relieved.
Brittany leaned back in and hugged her tightly, not wanting to waste the rest of the day by being sad that it would end.
"I love you with all my heart," she said softly.
"And I love you back with all of mine."
Brittany thought about it. "I bet that's one phrase that translates directly into French. Do you know for sure, San?"
"Nope. Sorry, Britt, I've run out of French. But I can do it in Spanish. Do you wanna hear it in Spanish?"
Brittany nodded her head up and down.
Santana laced her right hand through Brittany's left one and looked her in the eyes. "Te quiero con todo mi corazón."
All the things:
1. I deliberately didn't give a name to the college Brittany went to for privacy reasons, but lets just say I was really lucky to get in and it was an amazing place.
2. I didn't see them anymore, but I know that "Antonia" 'got bored and wanted to travel' and dropped out of college before finishing her sophomore year. Of those five girls, "Nessa" was the only one to complete the degree.
It was easier to get in than usual when I applied, but that then turned into a really high dropout rate of people just disappearing, and never coming back.
I'm not saying if Brittany finished college or not yet.
3. I sent "Santana" many, many more emails and messages than the couple I put in. I wanted to be sure that she didn't miss anything, and that she got to be a part of everything and didn't feel left out.
I got sad when I watched the season 4 episode "Britney 2.0" because at the end, I'm pretty sure Brittany on the show was making the exact same face I used to make while waiting for my "Santana" to come online.
4. I lost count of how many times I managed to sit in on the wrong classes. I made a game of it in the end and decided I enjoyed learning new things. Navigating that huge campus was so hard for me.
5. The songs we sent each other are called "There is" by Boxcar racer (with an edited lyric) and "Last night on earth" by Greenday. She loves those songs, and always said that they remind her of me.
6. My nickname after I made the cake was "Braincake." I thought it was cute, because most people didn't know the story behind it, and they actually used it to compliment me because they thought that being a 'braincake' meant to be smart.
7. Even though I haven't experienced a final exam for a while, I still remember how to speak fluent 'zombie.'
8. Kurt became my 'sweater-wearing theatre-loving flaming homosexual' saint in those times. He is a great friend, and a very perceptive one. While we were younger, he was pretty sure I had ADD, but then afterwards when he got to know me better he realized it was probably autism even before I told him.
He also somehow knew the minute we graduated high school that something was probably going to happen to me, so he invited me over the next day, and has pretty much been there since.
9. I titled the sections because breaking down occurs in stages and each stage matters and contributes to the next one. Mine were:
1. Distraction. 2. Promises. 3. Denial. 4. Frustration. 5. Dedication. 6. Madness. 7. Loss. 8. Breakdown. 9. Addiction. 10. Understanding.
I think it looks a bit similar to a model of the typical stages of grief that people universally go through that I learned about in one of my classes
It's called the 'Five stages of grief.'
1. Denial. 2. Anger. 3. Bargaining. 4. Depression. 5. Acceptance.
10. I kind of played down how bad my depression actually got to an extent, just for the story's sake. All the details are there, but it went on for longer and I was a bit less responsive.
I did snap out of it when I saw "Santana" crying like that though. I've never seen her cry that hard before or since.
When I told her "I'm not special" I also meant that I'm not special, as in Special Ed, as "Antonia" was so fond of saying. I meant that I just needed to keep on going, just like everyone else, and anything less was undervaluing myself.
11. The last section, that entire long conversation and everything we talked about is very personal to me.
12. The title "From me to you" represents not only the letters we sent, but also how I tried to send her all my love from so far away.
13. The number of comparisons I've had people in my real life make between me and Elle Woods of Legally Blonde is kind of funny, so I put a reference or two in.
In the next chapter I'm gonna start with talking about visiting her and seeing what her new world was like, and I'm going to attempt to write all the way up to now, present day. I think it's time. But if that doesn't work out i'll have to split it into two chapters, so I guess we'll see how that goes. I can say now though, that the next chapter (or two) will not actually be the ending.
Thank you for listening, unicorns, snaps and claps :p I love you all, and I hope you have a very Happy Easter soon. :)