Chapter Six:
Santana woke the next morning with a metallic taste in her mouth and an insistent throbbing in her temple.
"Ugh." She groaned, peeling back the duvet as she reached groggily for her phone. Five missed calls from Quinn. Shit.
Last night, after Brittany and the others had left Puckerman's, Santana had staggered out onto the sidewalk and flagged down a cab. Once the Latina had got back to her apartment, she'd made light work of a half-bottle of Jack Daniels on the couch and then crawled exhaustedly into bed.
Before she'd blacked out, Santana had managed to fumble out a text to Quinn to let her know that she'd made it home safely. But the brunette couldn't face talking to her friend this morning. She'd only bombard her with a whole host of difficult questions. Questions that Santana really didn't want to answer right now.
The Latina spent the weekend desperately trying to distract herself from thoughts of what had gone down with Brittany at the club. She went to the gym, caught up on emails and even binged an entire season of The Bachelor, all whilst managing to avoid Quinn's frequent, prying phone calls.
By the time Monday rolled around, Santana had started to feel a little better. Things didn't need to be awkward between her and Brittany. They'd both been drunk; everyone did stupid things when they were drunk. Their little encounter on the dancefloor hadn't meant anything.
At least, that's what Santana told herself that morning in the shower, when she drove two fingers deep inside herself and came, almost violently, on trembling legs, Brittany's filthy words ringing in her ears.
That's what she told herself as she strutted into the lobby of Schuester and Son, feeling her heart rate start to accelerate at the thought of intense blue eyes boring into hers.
"Ah here she is!" crowed Sugar as Santana arrived at her desk. "We were just talking about you."
The Latina swallowed. "Oh?"
"Have you recovered from Friday night? Only, you looked like you were having a really good time." Finn grinned, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
Santana froze. She knew that Finn and Artie had probably seen her and Brittany getting very cozy at Puckerman's, but she hadn't expected either of them to bring it up. "I, er-'
Artie laughed. "It's okay, Santana. Brittany has already explained that you were totally wasted. She said that she had to practically hold you upright on the dancefloor."
Ah. Realization started to dawn on Santana. The guys hadn't caught her and Brittany practically dry humping in the middle of the club, they were simply teasing her about being completely smashed. A story which Brittany had obviously concocted to spare her blushes.
Santana felt relief wash over her before detecting a small twinge of disappointment in the pit of her stomach. She tried to ignore it.
"Ah yeah, I was pretty drunk." The brunette admitted. "I should probably find Brittany and apologize for ruining her night."
"Oh, I don't think you ruined anything." Finn smirked. "Brittany certainly seemed to be having a good time with that model girl."
Santana felt like she'd just been slapped. "What?"
"Ugh, Hudson you are such a pervert." Whined Sugar, before giggling. "We went to Heaven and Brittany started making out with this girl who models for Victoria's Secret. It was totally hot, but I think she got tired of these two creepers staring at them, so they left."
"Hey! We weren't creeping." Artie protested unconvincingly.
"She went home with a girl? Did she, um, sleep with her?" Santana tried to swallow back the bile rising in her throat.
"Well, Brittany was very cagey when we asked her about it this morning but, from the way they were all over each other in the club, I can't imagine they did a whole lot of sleeping." Finn leered.
Santana wanted to smack the dopey grin off her colleague's face. At least this proved one thing; Santana had been right. What had happened with her and Brittany hadn't meant anything. Brittany had obviously just been horny, and Santana had been a warm, willing body.
"Morning. Everything okay?" As if on cue, the blonde had appeared next to Santana's desk.
"Fine." The Latina smiled tightly. "Never been better."
Santana kept her eyes trained on her computer as she logged on, and the rest of the group dispersed to their respective desks. The brunette could still sense Brittany loitering uncomfortably on her shoulder.
"Santana," she started. "We should talk about-'
"There's nothing to talk about." Santana cut her off. "We were both wasted. I haven't got laid in a while and I wanted to get my grind on. It happens."
The abrupt tone of the Latina's voice made Brittany wince. "But I really think-'
"Look, Brittany," Santana sighed wearily. "You said on Friday that you wanted to start fresh. I think that's a good idea. We're both adults. We can be colleagues, friends even, but nothing more. Okay?"
The blonde chewed on her lip and Santana cursed herself for thinking how sickeningly cute she looked when she did that.
"Okay Santana." Brittany nodded. "If that's what you want."
As Brittany moved back to her own desk, Santana considered the other woman's words. The Latina didn't know what she wanted. But this strange, childish crush she had on Brittany had to stop. They'd cleared the air and now they could just focus on working together. Santana couldn't help but hope that the next few months would fly by. Then she could get the blonde out of her life and, hopefully, out of her mind.
The next few days were pretty uneventful. Santana and Brittany got to work on the Sylvester case and kept all non-professional conversation to a minimum.
Every time she was around the blonde, Santana was assaulted with a whole range of emotions. The one that seemed to be most prominent was anger.
How dare Brittany say all of those things to her? How dare she touch Santana like that and get her all worked up only to end up fucking some dumb model bitch? At least Santana hoped she was dumb because, as hot as she was, the Latina didn't fancy competing with a smart Victoria's Secret angel.
By Wednesday, Santana's frustrations had reached boiling point, made even worse when she looked at the calendar and saw the date.
November 7th. It was the brunette's least favorite day of the year. Only Quinn knew the reason why, and even then, Santana had only told the blonde under great duress when she was incredibly drunk.
By six-thirty that evening, the office was pretty much deserted. Most of Santana's colleagues had steered clear of her all day after she'd made Sugar cry when the secretary had accidentally knocked over the Latina's soy latte.
Santana couldn't face going home to an empty apartment, so she was holed up in Will's office doing some paperwork.
The brunette looked up when she heard a faint knock on the door.
"I thought you'd have gone home by now. It's getting late." Brittany said.
"Thanks blondie, but if I'd wanted a time check, I'd have looked at my watch."
"What's the matter Santana?" The blonde sighed.
"I'm trying to work, and then you waltz in and-'
"No. You've been a bitch all day." Brittany interjected. "Like, even more than usual."
"How observant of you blondie." Santana sneered. "But hadn't you better get going. I'm sure your little model friend is missing you."
Santana hadn't meant to bring up Brittany's rendezvous with the Victoria's Secret angel, but she was so wound up she couldn't help herself.
"So, that's what this is all about?" Brittany laughed bitterly. "Me and Chloe?"
So that was the bitch's name, Santana thought, unable to keep the resentment from her face. "Believe me Brittany, I couldn't care less who you fuck. I have far bigger things to worry about."
"So then tell me Santana. Tell me what's wrong."
The Latina opened her mouth to unleash some witty barrage of insults on Brittany, but nothing came out. All of a sudden, Santana felt exhausted and, to her horror, tears began to prick sharply at her eyes.
"It's my dad's anniversary, okay." The brunette whispered hoarsely, after a beat. "He died ten years ago today."
Santana waited for Brittany to start up with the inevitable awkward condolences but, when she looked up, the blonde was just staring at her intently. "Thank you for telling me that." And then softly, "Do you want to talk about it?"
For the first time in a long time, Santana was surprised to find that the answer to that question was yes.
"My family are pretty traditional." The Latina began hesitantly, as Brittany took a seat beside her. "My mom's parents, in particular, are very religious and, well, she hasn't always been the warmest mother. For her, it's always been about keeping up appearances; doing whatever it takes to be the best and make sure you fit in. Dad wasn't like that."
Brittany simply nodded and waited for the brunette to continue.
"He was my best friend. When I was a kid, I'd dance around the kitchen on his shoes and he'd sing me to sleep with Johnny Cash songs. He had the best voice." Santana smiled fondly at the memory.
"He was always great at playing the peace-keeper between my mom and me. This one time, when I was sixteen, I got home late from a party. I'd been drinking, and I found my dad stood on the porch, smoking a cigarette. I'd never seen him smoke before. I thought he was going to kill me, but he just winked and said, 'I won't tell her if you don't'."
Brittany laughed warmly. "He sounds pretty awesome."
Santana grinned. "He was. A few weeks after that night on the porch, my mom was out of town visiting family. I'd gone to this party with Quinn and some of the guys from the football team. At that point, I was pretty sure that I was gay, although I'd only kissed one girl in a game of spin the bottle. I just knew deep down that the way I felt about girls was exactly the way I was supposed to feel about boys."
The Latina bit her lip. "I had feelings for this one girl in particular. Her name was Kitty, and she was on my cheerleading squad. She was sort of a bitch, but I liked her anyway. That's kinda my type."
Santana gave Brittany a pointed look before continuing. "At the party, I got pretty drunk on wine coolers and Kitty took me outside to get some fresh air. She gave me her jacket and started talking to me about the stars and I, well, I just leant over and kissed her."
"What did she do?" Brittany breathed quietly.
"For a moment, it was magical. She let me kiss her and I started to think that, maybe, she felt the same way. Then she pulled back and looked at me with such disgust that I wanted the ground to swallow me up. She went crazy, shouting that she was going to tell everyone that I was this psycho lesbian; that I was obsessed with her."
Santana winced. "I panicked. I ran all the way home and shut myself in my room. My dad must have heard me crying, because he came and sat on my bed and just held me while I sobbed. I wanted to explain everything to him, about Kitty and the party but all I could manage to choke out was 'I'm gay.'"
"You must have been so scared." Brittany murmered.
"I was." Santana sighed. "But I needn't have been. Dad told me that he knew; that he'd known for a while. He told me that I was still his little girl and he loved me no matter what. That night, he didn't leave my side. I'd never felt so relieved in my life."
"That's amazing. He sounds amazing." Brittany smiled.
Santana nodded. "I started freaking out about mom finding about; about how she was gonna react. But dad just took my hand and said that, when I was ready, we'd tell her together. That week, dad had to go to Chicago for a business trip, so we decided that we'd tell her when he got back. In the meantime, I busied myself blackmailing Kitty. I told her that, if word got out about what had gone down at the party, I'd get her kicked off the squad. She agreed, of course."
The Latina took a deep breath, bracing herself for what was coming. "Dad's flight got in on the Friday night. I felt sick, waiting for him to come back from the airport. But I knew that I could tell my mom as long as I had him with me. But then it got later and later. He wasn't answering his phone and I knew something wasn't right."
Brittany didn't say anything, but she leant forward instinctively to take Santana's hand. "Some truck driver had fallen asleep at the wheel. He pulled out on my dad's car about half a mile from our house. He died on impact."
"I'm so sorry, Santana." Brittany murmured sincerely, stroking her thumb over Santana's wrist. "I can't imagine how difficult that was for you."
"After dad passed, things with mom got worse. She didn't want to talk about it. All she seemed to care about was me getting into Columbia."
"When did you tell her that you were gay?" Brittany questioned softly.
"After sophomore year of college. I'd started dating a girl from my politics class- Lucy- I brought her home for the summer and introduced her to my mom."
Santana sucked in a breath. "The way she looked at me, fuck, it was like pure hatred. She just went pursed her lips and said, 'Your father would be so disappointed in you.' I haven't spoken to her since."
"San, I don't know what to say-'
The Latina gave a wry smile. "It's not your fault. Life is just shit sometimes. I manage fine on my own."
"Families are hard." Sighed Brittany. "They're supposed to be the people who always have your back – who love you unconditionally – but sometimes it doesn't work out that way."
Santana noticed the pain in Brittany's face as she spoke. It was clear that the blonde had had her fair share of heartbreak, and what surprised Santana most, was that she really wanted to hear about it.
"Britt?" The Latina questioned. "You said in my apartment that it was just you and your sister. What happened with your parents?" Then hurriedly, she added, "Sorry, I didn't mean to pry. Er, you don't have to tell me if you don't want-'
"I want to." Brittany said faintly. "I just haven't talked about it in a long time, y'know?"
Santana smiled and nodded encouragingly as the blonde started to speak.
"My parents met in high school. My mom was the head cheerleader and my dad was the quarterback, so naturally they started dating. The American dream, right?" Brittany laughed weakly, but Santana felt her heart twist at the obvious hurt in the other woman's eyes.
"Mom was super smart." The blonde continued. "She had all these big plans to leave Colorado behind and become this hotshot lawyer. She even got a offered a place at Harvard."
"That's incredible." Santana enthused. Then noticing Brittany's expression, "What happened?"
"A few weeks after she graduated high school, she found out that she was pregnant with me. She couldn't bring herself to get an abortion, so her parents kicked her out. My dad's parents were pretty religious, so he didn't really have a choice when it came to doing the right thing and putting a ring on her finger."
Brittany swallowed before continuing. "Things weren't so bad at first. Dad got a job as a mechanic and they bought a nice enough house. Mom had to give up her place at law school, but she started taking night classes at community college. Then I came along and I think both of them started to realize they'd gotten themselves into. Apparently, I cried a lot."
"That's kind of what babies do, Britt." Santana teased good-naturedly. "That wasn't your fault."
Brittany shrugged. "Still, they were young, and it was hard for them. Dad started staying out a lot, drinking. Sometimes he'd be gone for days at a time, and when he came home, he was usually angry."
Santana noticed the anxious hitch in the blonde's breathing, and it was her turn to reach out a comforting hand.
Brittany smiled gratefully, intertwining pale fingers with tanned ones. "This one time, when I was eight, Dad didn't come home for a week. When he finally showed up, my mom was crying, asking where he'd been. I sat on the top of the stairs and watched as he yelled at her… and then hit her."
The blonde's voice cracked. "I'd heard them fighting before, but it was the first time I'd ever seen him use violence. I felt so helpless."
"No kid should have to watch something like that, Britt. I'm so sorry." Santana shifted almost imperceptibly closer, grazing a thumb gently over the blonde's bare knee.
"That night, after dad had stormed out, my mom got into bed with me. She told me that she was going to leave him; that we were going to start a new life, just the two of us."
"And did she? Leave him?" Santana breathed.
Brittany shook her head. "A few days later, she found out that she was pregnant with Olivia. She knew then that she couldn't leave, even if she wanted to."
"Fuck. That's awful." The Latina sighed.
"I didn't have the best time as a kid." Brittany continued. "Pretty much the only time I felt happy was when I was with Sam. In elementary school, he punched some kid who pushed me into the sandpit, and we've been best friends ever since."
The blonde grinned. "He was such a dork growing up, and I loved that about him. But when we got to high-school, things changed a little. He joined the football team, and all of a sudden, he was popular. He was still my best friend, but things just felt…different."
"Anyway, he was always inviting me to these parties. I never usually said yes, but this one time in junior year, things were really bad at home and I just thought, 'Why not?'. I met this guy there, Ryder. I'd never really had anything to do with boys up until that point, but Ryder was cute and sweet, and I was drunk. One thing led to another and I-'
"Britt." Santana said, her voice scarcely more than a whisper. "He didn't…hurt you did he."
The blonde shook her head vehemently. "No. God, no. I was drunk but I guess I sorted of wanted to. It was uncomfortable, of course, but Ryder was nice about it. He even asked me on a date afterwards."
"Charming." The Latina snorted.
"Who said romance was dead right?" Brittany joked half-heartedly. "About a month later, I got home from school to my parents having this huge fight. My mom looked so scared and I just couldn't take it anymore. I tried to stand up to my dad, but he just laughed in my face. He raised his hand to hit me and I-"
Santana squeezed Brittany's hand tightly as a tear rolled down the blonde's cheek. "He hit you?"
"No." Brittany croaked. "He stopped…because I told him I was pregnant."
The brunette felt her chest constrict. "You…I mean…Ryder?"
Brittany nodded meekly. "I knew I wasn't going to keep it. I'd already booked a doctor's appointment and I wasn't planning on telling anyone. But in that moment, I was so scared. The worse part was my mom's face. She looked so disappointed in me. And when my dad told me to get out, she didn't stop him."
Brittany was really crying now; her body convulsing with loud, ugly sobs. Santana pulled the blonde tightly to her, running a soothing hand through her hair. "I'm really, really sorry Britt."
After taking a few minutes to compose herself, Brittany continued. "Sam's parents were great. They let me move in with them for senior year. Sam even went with me to Planned Parenthood. He didn't let go of my hand the entire time; I'll never be able to repay him for what he did that day."
"He sounds like an awesome friend." Santana smiled.
"The best." Brittany smiled. "Anyway, senior year I put all of my efforts into school. I figured that if I did well on my SATs, that if I got a place at law school…"
"Your mom would reach out to you." Santana finished softly.
Brittany nodded. "The day I got my acceptance letter from Harvard, I went over to the house and posted it through the letterbox. For days, I waited by the phone in case she rang. But she never did. So, I moved out to Cambridge and started over. Sam came to visit regularly and I spoke to Liv every night on the phone. As much as I missed them both, I actually started to love college."
The blonde sighed. "By the time I reached senior year, I'd pretty much given up all hope of my mom getting in touch. Then one day, I got a letter from her, completely out the blue. She told me that she was sorry, that she'd just been so scared that I was making the same mistakes that she had. She said that things with dad had gotten even worse, but that she couldn't leave him. She could never leave him."
Brittany gratefully accepted the Kleenex that Santana was proffering. "Mom told me that Liv was really struggling at school. She said that she couldn't bare watching her retreat into her shell, so she asked if I'd take her in for a while. A week later, Olivia moved out to Boston and she's lived with me ever since."
"And your mom?" Santana asked.
"Dad doesn't let her speak to us. She still sends us birthday cards, but other than that, it's just me and Liv. And Sam, of course. He moved out to New York a few years ago for a modelling job. When I got the chance to transfer to the New York office, I thought it would be nice for both me and Liv to be near to him. He had a spare room in his apartment, so he offered to let us stay."
"I think you're amazing Britt." Santana breathed sincerely. "What you've been through, and what you're doing for your sister, you're just so brave."
"Aw, don't be going all soft on me now Lopez." Brittany giggled, but the Latina could see the blonde's cheeks turning pink.
"Yeah, well, don't get used to it." Santana joked. "Fuck, since when did this turn into a freaking therapy session."
Brittany laughed. "I guess we both had some things we needed to get of our chest."
After a few moments, the blonde looked at her watch and got to her feet. "I'd better get going. I promised Liv I'd make her some lasagna for dinner. Will you be okay?"
"Don't worry blondie." Santana grinned. "I'm not gonna slit my wrists with Will's fountain pen."
Brittany nodded and made towards the door. "Santana?" The blonde questioned, her hand stilling as she reached for the handle.
"Mmm?"
"I think you're amazing too."
"Piss off blondie, before I start crying." The Latina laughed.
For a moment, Brittany just stared at the other woman, an inscrutable expression on her face. And then, "I didn't sleep with her."
"What?" Santana asked, momentarily confused.
"Chloe. I didn't sleep with her. I was going to. I mean, I went home with her, but I just… I couldn't."
With that, the blonde left the room and headed towards the elevators, leaving Santana's mind racing and her heart pounding loudly in her chest.