Santana's POV

Sometimes, I desired to be more like Brittany. She could do almost whatever she wanted, and she got away with it because people just assumed she was dumb. I knew she was a genius, but it seemed like I was the only one. Rarely caring about how others perceived her, Brittany loved glee club and her new glee club friends (even if she occasionally complained about Rachel), even though it wasn't good for her popularity. I wished I could let go like that. Glee club was fun, but I had to act as though I hated it for the sake of everyone, except for Brittany.

Just a few weeks after we joined glee club, Brittany was teaching a dance to Kurt and Tina a few days after school. But even though she was super busy, we still spent time together often and did our homework together. I helped Brittany with her homework a lot; she said that I was the only one who could help her understand what was going on at school.

After a very unusual football game won by the Titans, Puck, Mike, and Matt joined the glee club. But just as we were getting used to finally having twelve members, Rachel quit glee club. She became furious after Mr. Schue gave Tina a solo instead of her, so she quit. I didn't see why she couldn't have just been happy for Tina and given up one solo, but it was refreshing to not listen to her complaining during the next glee rehearsal.

I found myself hoping more than usual that the information I gave Coach Sylvester about the glee club wouldn't actually destroy the club. The more time that I spent in glee club, the more I enjoyed it. Brittany came alive during glee club, more so than during Cheerios practice, and I would always watch her, trying to ignore the butterflies in my stomach every time she looked at me. And despite how much some of the glee club members annoyed me, I loved singing with them.

Brittany and I started spending even more time together. After whatever rehearsal or practice we had after school, we were always at one another's houses and would spend the rest of the day with each other if there weren't other important plans.

I became more and more conscious of how spending time with Brittany made me feel, but I pushed those thoughts to the back of my mind because I wasn't ready to deal with them yet. I wasn't sure if I would ever be ready to deal with them. We often had sleepovers and started kissing each other almost daily. I found myself beginning to feel less awkward, like I was doing something wrong, and allowed myself to enjoy kissing Brittany and sometimes having sex with her (although I still never made eye contact). I continued ignoring thoughts of what doing those things with Brittany made me.

One day, during Cheerios practice, Coach Sylvester had us working on a new routine that felt nearly impossible. It included what was still my weakness: the back handspring. I was scared of hurting myself, even after years of improvement without injury. But, as it turned out, I didn't need to worry about myself getting hurt. At one point in the routine, during what was probably our fifth attempt that day, I heard a pained cry ring out from my left. I immediately recognized that it was Brittany and that she was lying on the ground in the middle of the field. Although Coach Sylvester didn't want us stopping for anything, I raced towards Brittany.

"Are you okay?" I asked, kneeling next to her.

She wasn't crying and looked as though she was in shock.

"Pierce! Lopez!" Coach Sylvester yelled. "What are you doing?! There's no time for silly business!"

"I'm fine," Brittany said.

"Are you sure?"

Brittany nodded, grabbing my shoulders to help herself sit up. "Thanks for helping me."

We stood up, and Brittany hugged me before Coach Sylvester yelled out that all us Cheerios were incompetent fools and we had to start the routine over again.

I glanced over at Brittany once the routine started. She didn't seem hurt, but I also knew she was good at hiding it. I couldn't help but worry about her for the rest of Cheerios practice.

Once all the Cheerios were in the locker room preparing for the upcoming school day, I noticed that Brittany's left shoulder was red and swollen. I took her right arm in my hand and led her into a bathroom stall.

"You're hurt," I said.

"It's not a big deal, Santana." But even as she tried to make her injury seem like nothing, I could see pain in her eyes.

"It can't be good for you to ignore this." I lightly touch her shoulder, and she flinches. "How did you even manage that routine with your shoulder like this?"

"I don't know. I tried not to think about it," Brittany replied.

"Do you have any important tests or presentations in your classes today?"

"No…"

"Then would you like me to walk you home?" I asked.

"My mom's home," Brittany stated. "Besides, I don't want to miss glee rehearsal at lunch."

"You're hurt." I paused for a moment before coming up with a solution. "Come home with me?"

"Santana… I can't miss the whole school day."

"We can pick up work from your teachers and do it at my house if it makes you feel better. Please? I don't want you in pain all day."

"Okay."

After picking up work from a few of Brittany's teachers, and telling them that she wasn't feeling good, we started the long walk back to my house. It was started to get quite cool outside already, so I put a leather jacket on over my Cheerios uniform. Brittany didn't wear anything over hers; she could barely move her shoulder at that point.

When we arrived at my house, I could see that Brittany was almost shaking from the chill in the air. As soon as we got inside, I led Brittany to my bedroom and propped up my pillows to make my bed comfortable for her.

"I'm going to get ice for your shoulder," I said after I pulled my blanket over her in an attempt to heat her up before I'd have to ice her shoulder.

I went downstairs and got an ice pack from the freezer. On my way back to my room, I stopped in front of the snack cupboard and decided to take out a container of gummy bears. I'd been eating as little as possible lately, so that Coach Sylvester would be happy with me during my weekly weigh-in, but I knew how much Brittany hated following strict diets; gummy bears would make her feel happy.

Back in my bedroom, I got into my bed beside Brittany and pulled my blanket over my cold, bare legs.

"Here's the ice pack," I said, placing it gently on Brittany's shoulder. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Better now," Brittany mumbled.

"I also brought you some gummy bears."

Brittany smiled widely as she took the container of candy from my hand, quickly opening it and shoving a few gummies into her mouth with her uninjured arm. "Thank you!"

"What happened?" I asked.

"I think I just landed on my hand wrong or something," Brittany replied. "It's not that bad."

"Are you sure, Britt?" I moved the ice pack slowly to another part of her shoulder.

"Yes. The ice is helping… and the gummy bears."

I felt butterflies rush to my stomach as Brittany grinned at me through a mouth full of gummy bears.

"That's good," I whispered, continuing to press the ice pack to Brittany's shoulder.

Brittany placed the container of gummy bears between us with her good arm. "You should eat some too."

I shook my head. "I'm not hungry."

"You just want to lose weight for Cheerios," Brittany pointed out. "You don't have to, you know. You're perfect just the way you are."

"I'm really not. Besides, don't you also drink Sue's master cleanse?"

"I put flavored water in my thermos instead," Brittany said. "That master cleanse is disgusting, and it makes me feel sick."

"I wish I was as skinny as you."

"You are totally skinny, and one day you'll realize it's okay to eat whatever you want. I know how much you love Breadstix. I think you'd be much happier if you stopped trying to please Coach Sylvester."

"I want to be head cheerleader," I said. "And you totally try to please Coach Sylvester too."

"Maybe, but she scares me." Brittany looked at me. "Do you think you could take the ice off my shoulder? It's totally numb."

"Oh, yeah, totally." I took the ice pack off her shoulder and placed it on the ground beside where I was sitting on the bed.

Brittany slid her uninjured arm towards me and grazed her fingers lightly up my arm. I felt goosebumps start to appear; I don't think the butterflies ever went away.

"Thanks for doing this for me, Santana," Brittany said quietly into my ear.

I turned onto my side to face her, and she leaned in to lightly kiss my lips. She tasted like the gummy bears she had been eating a few minutes earlier.

"I couldn't just let you be hurt all day at school," I whispered, the feeling in the room becoming too intimate for me. I lay down on my back, so Brittany couldn't make eye contact. I quickly yawned and pulled my blanket further up on my body.

"Are you tired?" Brittany asked, lightly giggling.

"Yeah, are you?"

"M-hm." I felt Brittany lie further down as I started to drift into sleep.

"I love you, Santana," Brittany whispered.

I felt my body stiffen slightly, but I pretended as though I was sleeping. What if Brittany meant that she loved me as more than a friend?

I woke up and immediately glanced at the clock. I'd napped for almost two hours and it was almost noon.

Brittany's good arm was flung over my stomach, and she looked so peaceful sleeping that I decided not to wake her up yet. She stirred slightly as I moved her arm off of me and got out of bed, but she didn't wake up. I noticed that her shoulder was even more swollen than it had been at school, so I brought the old ice pack to the freezer and grabbed a new one before going back to my bedroom.

I climbed back into my bed beside Brittany, and lightly pressed the ice pack onto her shoulder. She moved a little, flinching from the cold, before her eyes started to open.

"What time is it?" Brittany mumbled.

"Noon," I replied, shifting the ice pack. "Your shoulder looks worse."

I don't think Brittany heard me properly, as she said, "You look so beautiful, Santana."

I felt my face start to heat up, before stumbling over the question, "Does your shoulder hurt?"

"Yeah," Brittany replied, "more than before."

"Maybe you should go to a doctor," I said, worried.

"Not yet. I want to spend more time with you."

"Do you want to watch a movie downstairs?" I asked.

"Okay."

I helped her carefully get out of my bed, the ice pack in my hand never leaving her shoulder. We walked to the living room slowly, and then she sat down on the couch, pulling an afghan over her lap.

"What movie do you want?" I started digging through my family's movie stash as I asked the question.

"Do you have Cinderella?"

I knew we did since Cinderella was my mom's favorite Disney princess, so I found the movie and put it in the DVD player before going to join Brittany under the afghan. Taking her place holding the ice to her shoulder, the movie started.