Chapter 5

Brittany's POV

It seemed as though when Santana left, all my health left with her. Well, not really; I was still healthy, but suddenly all the early pregnancy symptoms that I'd been missing out on started to appear. I felt nauseous and completely exhausted, my stomach bloating to the point where I struggled to button up my jeans. One moment I was eating potato chips dipped in peanut butter, and the next I was throwing it all back up into the toilet. I called Santana daily to talk with her about how I was feeling, but she assured me that it was all completely normal.

I never felt sick for more than a few hours a day, which allowed me to mostly do what I normally would do, including going for walks and eating a lot of junk food. I became bored of that very quickly, but there wasn't much else to do.

On Valentine's Day morning, I got dressed in my favorite pink dress and curled my hair for visiting Santana. I wasn't totally sure how she felt about Valentine' Day, but I was going to make it a good day whether she loved it or not (she hadn't in high school, but she had changed a lot since then).

I packed a picnic in an actual picnic basket with some of Santana's favorite foods and a few of mine as well.

I ate breakfast with my family, whose eyes were burning with questions the entire meal.

"So, where are you going?" my dad asked, breaking the tension.

"I'm visiting Santana," I replied, knowing lying would be pointless. "And, no, we're not officially dating, so please don't tell anyone."

""Okay," my mom said. "But, just know that, as long as you're happy, we will support you."

"Thank you, and could I borrow your car?"

"Of course, honey."

After breakfast, I took the picnic I'd made into the car and left to drive to Columbus. The drive was less than two hours, so I would get there before lunch, but my plan was to surprise Santana after her classes for the day were over, at 1:30.

When I arrived in Columbus, I drove around to find a spot to eat our picnic before going to Santana's school, very happy that I'd programmed the locations into my GPS before I left.

I waited under a bare tree close to the front door of the school and watched for her.

"Hi, Brittany!" she exclaimed when she saw me.

"Why don't you sound surprised to see me?" I asked, disappointed in her reaction (although, I was also jumping with joy internally after hearing how happy she sounded to see me).

"You, Brittany Pierce, are many things, but subtle is not one of them," she replied. "Did you think I wouldn't find out what you were up to when you asked me what time my classes end on Valentine's Day?"

I groaned. "Maybe you're just too smart?"

"Maybe, but I am very glad that you came to try to surprise me." Then, Santana hugged me, making the moment that much better.

"I brought a picnic," I said. "It's in my parent's car, and I found a spot for us to eat it... As long as you're okay with that." I instantly became anxious, realizing I didn't know how out Santana was in Columbus.

"Of course I am," she replied. "Also, I thought I'd let you know, I am out to everyone important to me in Columbus. And I realized that you were right about not caring what strangers think, so we don't have to hide here."

I smiled widely at her. "That's awesome! I'm so proud of you!"

I noticed blush rising in her cheeks. "It isn't much to be proud of if I'm not even out to most of my family."

"Hey, don't underestimate yourself," I said, placing my arm over her shoulder to comfort her. "You've grown so much since high school, and that is something to be proud of."

"I guess."

"You aren't very good at accepting compliments are you?" I asked her as we started walking back to my parent's car.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you never just say 'thank you' whenever I compliment you," I said, slightly worried about her self-esteem issues.

"Fine. Thank you," she replied, her voice practically a whisper.

Once we got to the car, I opened the passenger door and helped Santana inside.

"Such a gentlewoman," she laughed, and we were back to our usual selves.

At the park I'd found, we settled onto a blanket with plastic underneath close enough to a frozen lake to see it but not close enough to smell the "dead fish smell," according to Santana, despite the fact that it was still winter. I giggled at that. It was a little chilly, but an unusually warm day for February; still, I felt a little self-conscious about the fact that I'd picked a picnic to surprise her with. She watched as I took out the food.

"This is a lot of food, Britt," she said.

"Well, I thought you'd be hungry after all your classes," I replied.

She just smiled, almost sad, and we ate.

I noticed that she didn't eat much, so I cut her an extra big piece of the cake I'd packed for dessert. It had been her favorite when we were younger.

"I can't eat that much, Britt," Santana said.

"Yes, you totally can. I've seen how much you can eat," was my response.

"Okay," she sighed.

Half-way through her piece though, I saw how pale she was.

"What's wrong?"

"I just can't do this," she replied.

"Can't do what?"

"I can't eat this much... Do you know the real reason I was in that ice cream shop? The real reason I was home from school?" she asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I have an eating disorder. My therapist thinks it's linked to my family and Lima, so that's why I was back. I went to that ice cream shop because she told me to."

"Okay, but you're seeing a therapist, so you're getting better right?" I was very worried for her.

"I guess, but it's not just black and white like that. It's very hard, and I know you just care about me, but pressuring me to eat isn't helping."

"Okay, I'm sorry." I placed a hand on her shoulder. "What would you rather me do?"

"Listen and don't do something I say 'no' to. I have a therapist to get me to do those things, and I don't want you to become like my second therapist. That won't make me want to go on dates with you. But, I will try to finish this cake, since it's delicious, and it's my favorite. How did you even remember?"

"I remember almost everything about you," I replied. "And, don't worry; I'll try not to become your second therapist."

"That's all I ask. Well, that and, how long are you staying?"

"As long as you want."

"Are you sure?"

"Well, probably not, but I wish I could stay forever."

"I thought you were happy staying at your parents'."

"Yeah, I guess, but Reid, my ex, keeps calling me, which is scary, and he knows where my parents live. Besides, I want my independence... And I miss you."

"I miss you too," she said.

I watched her finish the last of her piece of cake and gave her a wide smile.

"I know this sounds absolutely crazy," she continued, "but would you like to move in with me?"

"You're right," I replied, "that sounds absolutely crazy. We just reconnected, and as much as I love spending time with you, are you sure that's a good idea?"

"It wouldn't need to be right away or even for a long time, but if you want to get away, just say the word. I have an extra bedroom in my apartment that can totally be yours. Jessie totally wouldn't mind."

"Who's Jessie?" I asked.

"I'll introduce you, but not today. I want to spend the rest of the day with you. When do you need to leave, for real?"

"I'm sure my parents wouldn't mind if I stayed the night," I teased, although I was pretty certain nothing would happen, I wanted to spend as much time as possible with Santana.

"That sounds great!" she said, although I could hear her voice wavering.

Since Santana's apartment was within walking distance from her school, she didn't have a vehicle to pick up, so I drove while she gave me instructions to her apartment.

The space was slightly crowded, and very plain, but it was better than anything I'd ever owned by myself, so it looked wonderful.

"Here's the second bedroom," Santana said, leading me to a closed door. Inside, there was a bed and a dresser and a number of unpacked boxes.

"I have some boxes that I've never unpacked," she mumbled, "but I would if you came to stay here. This is where Jessie sleeps when they stay the night, but like I said, they won't mind."

I couldn't explain why, but I felt relief wash over me when Santana used they/them pronouns for Jessie. Knowing that she had someone else in the LGBTQIA+ community to talk to while I wasn't in the picture made me very happy for her, glad that she'd had help if she needed it.

"That all sounds great, Santana, but what about us?"

"What about us?"

"It's just, I really like you, and I don't want to ruin that."

She smiled widely. "I really like you too, and I don't think you being here will ruin that."

For the rest of the evening, we sat on Santana's couch watching movies. Every few minutes, one of us would do something slightly romantic but quickly pull away, until I decided that it would be completely fine to cuddle with Santana if I wanted to, so I started with resting my head on her shoulder.

"You don't have to pull away," Santana mumbled, even though she'd pulled away at least as much as I had.

"I won't," I replied, slowly adjusting myself until I was almost completely leaning on her.

"I know we've gone on a few dates," she said, almost out of the blue, "but I really want to do more with you. Be my girlfriend?"

I was shocked. Santana, the girl who was beyond terrified to even talk with me about feelings in high school was asking me to be her girlfriend. I smiled widely. "Of course. But, you know that means talking about feelings and stuff, right?"

"Duh," she replied, "and I intend to do all that."

Once our third movie was finished, we decided to get ready for bed.

"I didn't bring anything," I said, realizing that I probably should have brought some clothes besides the dress I was wearing.

"Of course you didn't," Santana joked. "I will get you some clothes."

That's how I ended up wearing one of Santana's old t-shirts and a pair of pyjama shorts that were untied since I was in that awkward stage where I didn't really look pregnant, just bloated, and they were Santana's old shorts, the ones she said she didn't fit in anymore since starting to recover from her eating disorder.

After we got ready for bed, we didn't want to go separate ways, so Santana invited me to stay in her bed and talk for a little while longer.

"So," I started, "what made you decide to go to therapy for your eating disorder?"

"Actually, Jessie referred me." Santana leaned further back against her pillow, looking up at her ceiling. "They knew I was struggling and they had been going to therapy for a little while, so I decided it was worth a try."

"Your friend Jessie, are they non-binary?"

"Yeah, they are," Santana replied.

"How did you meet?"

"At a GSA meeting at my old university, you know, when I still thought I was going to become a doctor. I switched schools for the midwifery program. Jessie goes to nursing school now."

"I'm proud of you, you know?" I whispered. "You've grown so much since high school."

"You're still just as perfect," Santana replied.

I gave her a look.

"Oh, thank you."

"You're welcome. And I'm not perfect." I paused. "Did I ever tell you about my old job?"

She shook her head.

"Well, my plan was to continue working as an educational assistant at the school for as long as I could. Sure, it wasn't the best school, but I loved the kids I worked with. But, when they let so many people go due to lack of funding, I got really mad and yelled at the principal and three teachers."

"Do you miss working?" she asked.

"Sometimes. When I'm nauseous and throwing up everything I've ever eaten, I'm glad I don't have to work, but it does get dull just sitting around all day."

"I can't really imagine it. Have you considered looking for another job?"

"Yeah, but I want to be there while this baby is still little, and I'm sure no school would hire someone who would need to leave again so soon."

"I guess so," Santana said, "but once you're here living with me, I'll keep you company whenever I'm home."

I smiled. "Thank you. I think I should really go to the guest room now or I'll never leave this bed."

"Then don't."

"Are you sure?" I asked, cautious.

"Very."

"Okay, then I guess we're sleeping together- Not like that!"

Santana burst out laughing. Of all the things I missed while Santana and I weren't speaking, her laugh was a big one.

"Goodnight, Britt," she said. "Don't puke on my bed." Her tone was teasing.

"Says the girl who threw up all over my favorite sweatshirt in high school," I teased back.

"I thought you said we'd never mention that again," Santana said.

"I never promised. Goodnight, Santana."