A/N: I know, terrible me. I meant to update this weekend, but it was the first weekend I've had off in a while and I desperately needed to get some good manuscript time in. Which I did, so it was productive :)
Back to Role Reversal. So yes, San is a bad, bad girl. Not that Brittany's an angel. I love (seriously) how invested you guys are with the different characters :) It makes me feel like I'm doing something right.
Without further ado!
Onward and up :)
-H
P.S: Insinuation of non-Brittana sexy times. Roll with it ;) The latter part will hopefully make up for it :)
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee :(
CHAPTER 19
Santana stared at her phone. She stared so long and hard that the blinking red light started to swim in front of her eyes. She squeezed them closed and pinched the bridge of her nose underneath her glasses. Her eyes were dry from hours of crying and barely any sleep. She definitely wasn't looking for sympathy though. Hell no. Not after what she did.
Which brought her back to her phone.
Should I check the messages? Or should I just text Brittany and get it over and done with?
She felt like she was gonna chicken out if she didn't. She sat up straight on her bed, crossed her legs and held her phone ready. She unlocked it and bypassed the missed calls and messages, immediately opening up a new text.
Crap. What the hell am I gonna say?
What did one say to a girl that one had kissed and fucked on two separate occasions and who happened to be best friends with one's girlfriend?
Girlfriend…
The thought made her heart hurt. But deservedly so. Rachel didn't deserve any of this. Santana didn't deserve her either.
She sniffed and focused on the screen in front of her. It took her ten minutes to come up with the words that conveyed what she needed to say and would definitely entice a response from Brittany. If she didn't reply, well…
Brittany, what happened yesterday was unforgivable. I'm not going to lie to Rachel anymore. You're her best friend and I believe it should be your choice whether or not you want to come clean. But I am. Today. Just giving you a heads up. Santana.
She let out a deep breath as she read over the text for the twentieth time. Her thumb hovered shakily over the send button. Santana closed her eyes and pressed.
She wished that it didn't feel like she'd just ruined the lives of two best friends.
Brittany groaned as she heard her phone.
What the fricking frack? Who in the hell is texting me so fucking early on a Saturday morning?
She reached blindly on her bedside table and cracked an eye open to look at the time.
Seven-twenty? Hell fucking no.
She dropped her phone back on the bedside table and rolled over – straight into something. Her head flew up.
"What the fuck?"
Her voice was croaky due to the what-the-fuck-am-I-even-doing-up hour of the morning and that was when she realised that she was naked. And then she remembered Artie's post-game party. And she remembered getting deliciously wasted and suggesting that her new fuck buddy put himself to good use.
Under no circumstances had she invited him to stay the night, though.
She started pushing and kicking him. He woke with a start and turned to look at her with a dopey grin.
Seriously? Why is he attractive again?
She remembered his ability on the dance floor and how it…extended to the bedroom. She couldn't help but giggle quietly at her early morning wit.
"What's up?"
"Why are you here?" Brittany asked sharply, her voice more cutting the more awake she became.
It was sacrilege that she was actually waking up before ten on a Saturday.
"Um, wow, ok. I know you were pretty wasted last night, but-"
"No, Finnocence, why you are you still in my bed?" Brittany interrupted, rolling her eyes.
"Oh."
Brittany arched an eyebrow. "Take the hint. This arrangement is nothing beyond physical, ok? Which means no sleepovers."
"Christ, Britt. Puck always said you were a bitch, but he was actually being nice."
She wasn't fazed. "If it bothers you so much, there's the door and don't even think about getting back in my bed."
Finn sighed and pushed back the covers, looking on the floor for his clothes. Brittany pulled a face. Why was it that the boys she slept with always seemed more attractive when she was drunk?
Finn was dressed in about a minute and Brittany wiggled her fingers in a sarcastic goodbye as he opened her bedroom door and glared at her.
"You'll be back," she muttered once the door was closed.
She leaned over and grabbed her phone, ready to unleash all kinds of hell on the idiot who thought it was normal to text so early in the fucking morning. Her eyes widened when she saw the sender was Santana.
Brittany briefly allowed herself to remember their encounter the previous afternoon. As amazing as it had felt, it had accomplished exactly what she'd expected it to. She had felt a little guilty after seeing Santana so…disgusted with herself, but once she'd arrived home and started getting ready for the game, she'd actually never felt better and hadn't thought of her again.
Until now.
Her mouth dropped open as she read the text.
"You've got to be kidding me."
Was she fucking suicidal? Rachel would skin her alive! Before dumping her ass. Brittany shook her head. If Santana wanted to shoot herself in the foot, no way was she going down with her. She typed back a message quickly.
You do realise that it's suicide, right? Whatever. Do what you want. Just don't drag me down with you. And don't text me this fucking early again. In fact, rather just don't text me at all.
Brittany yawned, turning her phone off and rolling over, burying her face in her pillow and letting sleep overtake her.
"You've got to be kidding me."
Santana couldn't believe that Brittany was so cold, so callous and such a bitch. Well, maybe that should be rephrased. She wasn't surprised. She'd just thought she'd changed.
That's what you get for trying to see the good in people where there isn't any.
She angrily blinked back the unwitting tears and let her fingers do the talking for her.
You truly are a piece of work. Rachel is your best friend. Does that even mean anything to you? If it doesn't, you're more of a self-centred, cold-hearted coward than I ever gave you credit for. You're a bitch, Brittany Pierce and there's no need to worry – I'll be deleting your number as soon as this text has sent. We can finish that fight in Hell later.
If things had been bad between them before the fight, McKinley hadn't even begun to estimate Santana's wrath if she ever saw Brittany in the halls.
What about Rachel?
Santana deflated. Brittany was an absolute coward, but she'd said she wouldn't mention her name. After all the fucked up things she'd done, she could at least try and keep her word. Rachel was going to be devastated enough without losing her best friend.
She glanced down at her phone and scrolled through her notifications. Four missed calls, all from Rachel, and five text messages. Three were from Rachel, all very caring and concerned which only made Santana feel worse. There was one from her mom, asking if she wanted dinner. Guess she got that one a bit late. The last message was from Quinn, encouraging her to do the right thing.
The right thing for whom?
Santana sighed and got off her bed. It was about time she started thinking about what was right for Rachel instead of herself.
She'd driven around for two hours because she didn't think it appropriate showing up at the Berry residence at quarter to eight on a Saturday without warning.
Santana finally had enough courage to pull up outside Rachel's house and kill the engine before driving away again. She pulled out her phone.
10:04.
She typed a quick Are you up? I'm outside and waited. Not a minute later, her phone buzzed.
Yay! Come in :)
God, she was the worst person in the history of the world.
Santana took a deep breath and opened her car door, looking up at the house and remembering the last time she'd knocked on the door. The night she met her girlfriend's fucking parents. And now she was coming to break her heart.
Do the right thing.
She shook herself and walked up the pathway. Before she could knock on the door, it flew open and Rachel was standing there in her pyjamas. Santana wished that her body didn't react to the skimpy attire. She really needed to maintain a clear head.
"Hey, you," Rachel greeted with a big smile, grabbing her hand and pulling her in for a kiss. "This is such a great surprise."
Santana allowed herself to kiss Rachel back, trying her hardest not pull away too quickly. She didn't want to do this in Rachel's doorway.
"Hey," she said quietly. "Can we go up to your room?"
"Sure," Rachel replied, her grin becoming cocky.
Oh, Rachel, I wish we were going to do that, but you won't want to look at me after I've finished what I need to say.
She let Rachel pull her up the stairs and into her room.
Hmmm. We had our first kiss here. Even if it was a little…unexpected.
Santana sat down at Rachel's desk while the cheerleader sat on the bed. She frowned when she saw that Santana wasn't joining her.
"Everything ok?"
Santana took a deep breath. "Not really, no. Rachel, I need to tell you something and you need to hear me out before you say anything."
"Ok." She said it slowly and the uncertainty was apparent.
Santana squeezed her eyes together, as if that would somehow conjour up some mystical power that would make this not hurt.
"I…Something happened," Santana began. "I didn't plan it, I didn't expect it, but that fact is it did. And I didn't tell you. I…I kissed someone. Two weeks ago. Um, I'd like to say that it was a fleeting thing, but it wasn't." She didn't chance a look at Rachel. "And then yesterday, things…went further. Um, I just…I didn't want to lie to you anymore and I know that I am the absolute worst person on the planet-"
"Get out."
Santana's head snapped up and her eyes widened at the sight of tears streaming down Rachel's face and the complete crushed expression she was wearing.
"Get the fuck out of my house."
Santana quickly stood and turned, knowing better than to say anything more. She opened the door and closed it behind her, letting her own tears fall. Just as she started walking down the stairs, Rachel's door flew open.
"What it worth it?" she shouted.
The Latina spun around in surprise, taking in the fuming girl in front of her. Their eyes met and Santana just shook her head. "No."
Rachel set her jaw and glared at her. "Out of everyone in this fucking town, I figured you were the one person who would never do something like this. I thought you were one of the good guys. I was the bad guy. Now all I am is a fucking idiot."
"Rachel, I-"
"No, you don't get to say anything to me right now," Rachel seethed, the tears still tracking down her cheeks. Santana wanted so badly to hug her, but she stayed where she was. "Do you have any idea how humiliated I feel? I became an entirely different person for you. I took care of you when you were hurt. I made sure you didn't get suspended. I took a fucking slushie for you. And you repay me by fucking some slut on the side? Wow. I guess you really cared, Santana. Thanks so fucking much for setting the record straight. At least now I know I've been played."
Santana's bottom lip trembled with all the things she wanted to say, but couldn't. Any words would fall on deaf ears. Rachel was too mad to really hear anything she had to say and she couldn't blame her. She'd been devastated when her last girlfriend had cheated on her and now she'd gone and done the exact same thing.
"What, now Santana Lopez has no witty comeback? No clever retort?"
Santana straightened up a little. "Nothing I say will excuse what I did. All that I can say is that I am so incredible sorry that I hurt you, Rachel. I really care about you and-"
"You know, I really hate it when people say that," Rachel cut in. "They say I really care about you and then follow it up with a really, really shitty thing. Why, Santana?"
Shit. Didn't plan for that one. Why the fuck did I not anticipate that question?
"I honestly don't know, Rachel. I'm going to be honest with you and say that I did have an attraction to her and I made a seriously bad judgment call."
"You had an attraction?"
Santana opened her mouth, but never got the chance.
"Are you fucking kidding me? You had an attraction to someone else and you didn't think it would be worth mentioning at some point?"
"I tried to downplay it. I thought it was a fleeting thing."
"Well, as you so memorably said, it wasn't a fleeting thing, was it, Santana?"
"No," she mumbled, looking down in shame.
"Who is she?"
Crap.
"It doesn't matter."
"The fuck it doesn't."
"Rachel, it doesn't. I knew as soon as it happened that it was a mistake."
"Oh, really? Was that before or after you fucked her? Or wait, does that include this kiss two weeks ago as well? Wow. You've made some pretty big mistakes of late, Santana."
"I know," she whispered.
"Why won't you tell me who she is?"
"Please, Rachel. It doesn't matter. You don't even know her."
Not a complete untruth. I'm pretty sure she's never met that Brittany.
"Oh my God. I do know her."
What?
"Don't forget that I'm a pro at coming up with excuses for ditching girls, Santana. I know all the tricks and all the lines. You cheated on me with someone I know. Well, that kind of just makes things worse, doesn't it?"
Santana met her eyes again.
"You're protecting her by not telling me, which means that you care about her. Which is a fuck you very much in the face for me."
"No, I don't care about her. She just used me and I feel like an idiot."
"You feel like an idiot? I'm the one that stopped my Casanova ways to be with you because I thought that you were worth it. Guess we just flipped things on the head, huh? Traded roles? You get the role of the villain and I'm the victim. Fucking dandy."
"I'm sorry," Santana whispered. "I know you think it's bullshit, but I do still care about you. And I want to be with you."
Rachel gave a short laugh. "Oh my God. This must be some kind of hidden camera show. Are you serious, Santana? After everything I did for you, you turn around and cheat and expect me to just forgive and forget?"
"No, of course not. I fully expect you to never talk to me again the moment I walk out of this house," Santana replied in a pained voice. "I just want you to know that I know it was a mistake and it will never happen again. And that if you deem me worthy to give us another chance, then I'll be waiting. Until then, I really am sorry."
They held eye contact for a long time before Rachel mumbled, "Don't let the door hit you on the way out."
Santana watched as her ex-girlfriend turned and walked away, slamming her bedroom door closed behind her. She continued descending the stairs, furiously wiping at her eyes. By the time she reached her car, she was sobbing again. She sat on the ground next to the car and tried to get herself under control, but it was a good five minutes before she was able to breath relatively normally and not feel like she was going to burst into tears spontaneously. Again.
Her eyes lifted to Rachel's window, but the blinds were drawn.
Loneliness, it's just you and me until we die.
Sunday was a non-existent day for Santana. She lay in bed and just stared at her wall for the majority of the day. Quinn came by and she told her what happened and her best friend just held her for a bit. With her permission, Quinn relayed what had happened with Rachel to Santana's mom. Understandably, Carmen was very confused. Quinn left out the reason why they'd broken up.
Monday came far too quickly and Santana stood under the shower in a daze. She knew that she looked like a zombie. She felt like a zombie. She had no energy to do anything, least of all deal with school. She mustered up enough self-respect to hide the prominent bags under eyes and tone down the puffiness with make-up. She still looked like shit though.
She walked downstairs and grabbed two apples, tossing them into her bag and headed out of the house, thankfully avoiding her mother. She'd told Quinn that she wanted to go into school by herself. She figured that she'd best get comfortable with her own company seeing as how she was going to be spending a lot of time by herself.
The drive to McKinley was far too short and yet Santana knew she couldn't stall the inevitable any longer. She got out of her car and pulled her brother's hoodie up over her head, effectively hiding her face.
"Hey, Santana," Tina called, waving.
She returned a tight-lipped smile that was gone before it was even really there. She headed for her locker and opened it. She froze at the pictures of her and Rachel adorning the door. She grabbed her first period books and slammed it closed, the sound reverberating down the hall. She spun on her heel and headed for homeroom.
She could hear the whispers, but they'd never really bothered her before so she tuned them out with her iPod on full blast. It wasn't like anyone cared, really.
Well, no one that mattered.
Brittany frowned at Rachel. She'd been in a bad mood all morning, even for Rachel. Part of her wanted to know what had happened between her and Santana, but a bigger part of her was just glad that Santana hadn't mentioned her name. If she had, she doubted she'd be walking through the halls next to her as they always did.
She met Finn's eyes as they passed each other and smirked. She knew that he stopped and turned around to look at her. She swayed her hips a little extra.
"Could you stop parading?" Rachel muttered. "You look like a fucking peacock."
"Oh, it speaks!" Brittany teased, spinning her combo on her lock. "I was wondering if you'd lost your tongue."
"Bite me, Pierce."
"Hmmm, I think I'll leave that to the half of population that actually wants to."
Rachel glared up at her and the deep-seated pain that Brittany glimpsed caused the smile to drop from her face immediately.
Crap. She fucking hurting. Badly.
"Are you ok?" Brittany asked timidly, pulling out her books.
"Dandy."
Brittany knew that voice.
"Rach, come on. I know you better than that. You told me not so long ago that you can read me better than I thought. Well, the same goes for you."
Her best friend sighed and leaned back against her locker. "Santana and I broke up."
Brittany's eyes widened. She'd been expecting it, but to actually hear the words…the finality of them kinda hit her. "What? Why? I thought everything was lovely in Lesboland."
God, you are a hypocrite.
Brittany shook her head slightly. Where the hell had that voice come from?
"She…" Rachel looked down and swallowed hard, playing with her fingers. "She cheated on me."
"Santana cheated on you?" Brittany repeated, surprised at how shocked she sounded. She was obviously a better liar than she originally thought.
"Twice."
"Twice?"
"And she won't tell me who."
"You wanna cut a bitch."
Rachel's head shot up and she grimaced. "I appreciate the effort, Britt, but you can't do ghetto so don't even try. It's sad."
"Was that a glimmer of Rachel Berry that I saw there?" Brittany retorted with a grin. "Could it be? Has the notorious lady lover finally come home to roost on the top of the pedestal?"
Rachel smirked and Brittany matched it.
Oh, yeah. Things are about to be put back the way they were supposed to be.
A body walked straight into Santana as she headed for the choir room. No way was she spending an hour in the cafeteria where she knew she'd see both Rachel and Brittany, probably laughing and joking as though everything was fucking hunky dory.
"Watch it, Godzilla," she snapped, glaring at the guilty party.
"Whoooa, you need to chill, pretty girl. It's all good."
Santana pulled her hood back and stared at familiar bushy brown hair and unfocused hazel eyes.
"Blaine?"
"How'd you know me?" Blaine asked, squinting at her. "Are you an alien? Did you abduct me and do shit to my brain?"
Santana blinked. What the fuck happened to Blaine Anderson, the boy who lived behind her and who she used to sing duets with every Sunday?
"It's Santana," she said. She searched his eyes. "Are you high?"
"Not anymore," Blaine replied with a heavy sigh. "You got some weed? We could get high together."
For the first time in her life, Santana seriously considered it, but she didn't know the first place to get weed. Anything would be better than feeling like this.
"You're out of luck, buddy. Where have you been? I haven't seen you since the beginning of freshman year."
"Oh, my dad totally got busted for growing weed in the back yard so he went to like rehab and stuff and I had to go stay with my mom in Missouri. Like what a trip, man. Lamest place ever. But they did have top class Mary Jane. Hey, hey, Santana. You still like girls?"
Santana grimaced. "Unfortunately."
"Awesome. You know Mary Jane, right?"
She frowned in confusion at him. He'd definitely smoked something way too strong before school.
"Sorry, Blaine. I'm kinda avoiding her right now."
"Ah, that sucks. She's a cool chick, though. I'm sure it'll all be good." Blaine grinned and for the first time since Friday, Santana found herself cracking a small smile.
"You got lunch?" she asked.
Blaine looked perplexed and then held up a brown bag in his hand. "Totally do. My dad made me PB and J. How frigging rad is that?"
"Rad?" Santana had to stifle a laugh. "Blaine, you may wanna give that word back to the sixties and stick with something from your lifespan."
"Totally," Blaine agreed. "What you got?"
Santana shrugged. "Just two apples."
"Apples?" Blaine's eyes suddenly widened. "Like…green apples?"
"Yeah," Santana replied slowly.
"Do you think…" Blaine suddenly looked nervous and Santana found it entirely adorable. He'd always been such a lovable dork. "D'you think that if I gave you half of my PB and J that I could have an apple?"
He looked so hopeful that Santana was pretty sure that unicorns would start crying or some shit if she said no.
"Sure, Blaine. That sounds like a good deal. You know a place we can go? I don't feel like…people today."
"I'll take you to my super special place."
Coming from anyone else, Santana would've ripped them a new one, but she'd never been able to be mean to Blaine. With three obnoxious older brothers, he'd been a refreshing ray of sunshine in her life. As soon as puberty hit and Blaine's voice broke and, she guessed, he discovered the wonders of pot, they hadn't really spoken.
They ended up under the bleachers on a ratty old couch. She saw Coach Figgins wandering around, but he looked mesmerised by the grass.
"That guy is so weird," she muttered.
"Figgins?" Blaine chuckled. "Yeah, he's cool. He lets us crash here whenever so long as we hook him up."
"Hold up. Who's we? And 'hook him up'? You mean, with weed?" She whispered the last word.
"Duh. I dunno how these crazy teachers survive without it. Pretty sure I wrote my chemistry midterm last year completely blazed." He looked serious before breaking into another goofy grin. Santana was starting to see it as a trademark grin. "I think I got a ninety-four on that or something."
Santana chuckled. "Maybe I should give it a try."
"Aren't you like, a genius or something?"
"Definitely not. I get good grades and I'm on the honour roll, but I'm no genius."
"Totally. You don't look like Einstein. You have…" He trailed off and held his hands in front of his chest, imitating boobs.
"Jesus, Blaine. What are you, twelve?" She shoved him playfully and pulled out her two apples. She handed one to him and watched in amazement as he took it from her like it was made of gold.
"Did you know that apples have been around since 6500 BC?" he murmured.
"Fascinating," Santana replied, desperately trying to keep a straight face.
"And they're actually a member of the rose family."
"The rose family?" Santana repeated. "Like the flower?"
"And there are about 7500 varieties of apples all over the world and 2500 just in the US."
"God, how do you know all of this stuff?" Santana asked in wonder, taking a bite of hers.
"The crunchy deliciousness," he mumbled, staring at her mouth as she chewed.
The intensity of his gaze made Santana incredibly self-conscious, which was totally a big deal for her.
"Blaine, you're creeping me out."
"That's such a cool word, right?" he exclaimed suddenly, taking a huge bite of his own apple. "Creep. Awesome word."
Santana sat back against the dirty couch and let herself laugh. She believed that everything happened for a reason and she was exceptionally glad that she'd unexpectedly crossed paths with her old childhood friend. His quirky personality provided the exact distraction from her train wreck of a life that she desperately needed.
She leaned her head on his shoulder as they ate their apples in silence.
"Thanks, Blaine," she said quietly, nibbling the core of her apple.
"For what?" he replied, but it was difficult to make out because he'd stuffed the entire core in his mouth and was just leaving it there.
Santana looked up at him and smiled. "For just being you. You're saving me from myself."
"Do you think I'll get a lot of apple juice like this?" Blaine asked. Santana had no idea how she was able to understand him, but she was. And she just chuckled and watched as bushy-haired Blaine tipped his head back to let the juice from his virtually juiceless apple core drip down his throat.
Blaine suddenly spit the core out. "Meet me here after school, ok?" he asked enthusiastically.
Santana just nodded with a smile. "If I meet you here, then you have to come somewhere with me afterwards, ok?"
"Are we going to the moon?"
"Sure, buddy."
Quinn looked around the school frantically for Santana. They had Glee rehearsal in ten minutes and Santana had texted that morning to say that she'd meet her in the choir room right after school. Now she wasn't picking up her phone and Quinn was flipping her shit.
She knew Santana wouldn't do anything reckless or stupid. As much as she was hurting, she'd never hurt herself like that. But it didn't stop Quinn from worrying. No matter what mood she was in, she rarely ignored her phone. Other than Friday, but that was an exception. It had been a…difficult day.
As glad as she was that Santana had come clean with Rachel, she hated how heartbroken she'd been the previous day. After knowing each other for five years, she'd witnessed more crying from her best friend in the last three days than she had in all those five years put together. She truly did care about Rachel and now she'd lost her.
Quinn loved her best friend, but she'd created this mess herself. Well, her and Brittany. The blonde had seethed with rage when she saw the two Cheerios walking around together, laughing. Santana was broken and Rachel didn't seem to care and Brittany…well, she just showed how unscrupulous she actually was.
"Christ, Santana, don't pull a disappearing act on me now," she muttered, heading out for the football field in desperation. She never went out this way, but maybe that was why Quinn thought she might find her there.
As she neared the bleachers, she heard a very familiar high pitched laugh. She frowned. That was her happy laugh. Had something happened to make her happy again? Maybe Rachel had decided to work things out with her? With a smile on her face, Quinn made her way underneath the bleachers. The smile froze on her face and slowly fell when she saw the scene in front of her.
Santana was hanging over the back of a gross, dirty couch that was probably crawling with every disease known to man with a joint in her hand. She was giggling uncontrollably and Quinn watched, open-mouthed, as her best friend, the girl she thought she knew inside and out, took a deep drag of the thick joint.
"Hold it, hold it, hold it," a boy was crazy afro hair chanted, doing some weird dance.
Santana started flexing her hand until she exhaled a huge cloud of smoke. She started spluttering and laughing at the same time.
"Dude, that was way longer than last time," she said, her speech slurring slightly.
She'd seen enough. "Santana Lopez!"
The Latina froze and spun around, standing up straight with her hand meeting her head in a salute. She looked terrified and then glanced up to see that the hand by her temple had the lit joint.
"Hmmm," she murmured, taking another drag.
"For fuck's sake, Santana, what in the hell are you doing?" Quinn snapped.
Santana's eyes finally focused on her and a huge grin broke out over her face. "Blaine, Blaine, Blaine, look, look. It's Quinnie! She's my bestest friend in the whole wide world. Do you remember? She came over to my house a lot and you were totally in love with her and you wanted to sing a song to her and-Oh! Blaine, come with us to Glee! You'll love it! Just like we used to sing, remember? You can dance too cos I know you got moves. You can sing and dance and we can be best friends forever!"
All that was said in about eight seconds.
"Rad," Blaine replied with a grin.
Quinn rolled her eyes.
Wait…Blaine. Blaine Anderson? Santana's old neighbour from when they were kids? Wow, some people really do change.
"Rad," Santana repeated with vigour, taking another drag.
"Ok, that's enough for you," Quinn said, taking the joint out of her hand. "You, Blaine, here. Dispose of this."
"What, like eat it?" he asked with a straight face.
Santana broke out in peals of laughter. "Eat it!" she chanted between giggles. "Go on, eat it! You don't even need to make 'em into brownies cos it's already weed!"
Quinn rolled her eyes. If seeing her best friend this messed up wasn't so sad, she'd be videotaping it and killing herself laughing.
"Hey, San. Come on, we're gonna be late for Glee."
Santana reached out and grabbed Blaine's arm. He was still looking at the joint as if contemplating whether or not to ingest it.
"Crap," Quinn muttered. "Blaine, toss it on the ground and stomp it out."
"But Quinnie," Santana whined. Her voice dropped to a conspiratory whisper. "You can't leave any evidence behind. The Mary Johns will find us and then no more weed." She held up her empty hands and pouted.
Huh?
"Mary Johns?" she repeated.
"Yeah, you know, the guys who come looking for Mary Jane. Duh. Where have you been? I've been talking about this for the last half hour!"
Quinn really did have to fight a smile that time because Santana was absolutely convinced that she should know what she was talking about.
"So Blaine, you're gonna join Glee?" she asked instead.
"Sure," he replied with an easy smile. "I mean, I haven't sung in a while, but Santana said she'd smoke with me if I went with her to Glee."
"You did what?" she furiously asked the girl that she was half dragging back to the school.
Santana wrinkled her nose. "Quinnie, you smell funny." She leaned closer and sniffed, then her eyes widened. "Quinn Fabray! Have you been smoking marijuana?"
She stopped in shock as Santana regained her balance and put her hands on her hips in a very disappointed mother stance. "Now, Quinn. I know things have been difficult over the last few weeks, but turning to drugs is not the answer." She pointed a stern finger at her. "Stay in school."
She couldn't hold it in anymore. She burst out laughing at Santana's unbelievably out of character behaviour. She didn't care that Santana was probably in denial or projecting or whatever. What she cared about was that her best friend was grinning like an idiot two days after she'd broken her own heart.
"Ooooh, vending machine," Santana said, making her way to the big red container of all things sweet and not-so-nutritious. She felt around in her pockets. "Quinn, gimme a dollar."
"San, where's your bag?" Quinn asked, folding her arms.
"There by the thing." Santana snapped her fingers, eyeing the candy bars hungrily. "Don't make me tell your mother what I caught you doing."
The blonde grinned and handed over two dollar bills. Santana fed them into the machine and started punching numerous buttons. Three candy bars fell to the floor and she grabbed them, holding them close to her with an evil smile on her face.
"They thought they could escape my clutches, but now they're mine…mine!" She punctuated her lame villain voice with an equally lame evil laugh. "The salad bar shall live to die another day."
Holding one candy bar as a gun she started humming the James Bond theme music as she stealthily (meaning, not stealthily at all) crept along the walls inside the school.
"You guys, take one. It's dangerous out there," she whispered frantically, holding out the remaining candy bars.
Quinn took one and followed behind her and Blaine, who totally got into their spy gig. They exchanged nonsensical hand gestures (she was pretty sure she saw a Funky Chicken move at one point) and continued on the same path they were.
Quinn giggled to herself as she munched on the candy bar, trailing behind Santana and Blaine as they made their way to the choir room in the most entertaining way she'd ever imagined.
"Anyone seen Santana or Quinn?" Ms. Sylvester asked, frowning.
Brittany glanced around. She wasn't really surprised. Santana was probably hurt and pissed and didn't want to see anyone, especially Rachel.
Or you.
Seriously? What the fuck was up with that voice?
"Do you hear something?" Mercedes asked, narrowing her eyes as she strained her ears.
Brittany did. She heard strange noises that sounded something like humming, but truly terrible humming. And that was coming from her. As the noises got louder, she found herself vaguely recognising the garbled music. It was some spy movie or something.
Suddenly the door burst open, but there was no one there. The humming continued, though. Slowly, Santana's head appeared around the door, but was gone again in a flash. Frantic hand movements were the only things visible. Everyone in the choir room was shocked into silence, no doubt intrigued to find out what the hell was going on.
And then Quinn walked through the door, eating a candy bar or something, looking as calm as ever until a tan hand grabbed her and pulled her back out.
"Quinn! It's too dangerous! You don't know what's out there!" came a very loud whisper that everyone could hear.
Was that Santana? Brittany thought in confusion. Something was definitely up. Maybe this was some grand scheme to get Rachel's attention or maybe even…
No. No. Definitely not. That was a completely ridiculous idea. Santana wanted nothing to do with her and she didn't want anything to do with Santana.
Ha!
Brittany frowned to herself.
Eventually, the humming entered the room. Santana crept in first, armed with a…candy bar? Brittany bit her lip to stop herself from laughing. She somehow didn't think that Rachel would appreciate it.
James Bond! She suddenly remembered the spy music.
Ok, so Santana was James Bond. And she was protecting Quinn, assumedly. And…some strange afro dude that she'd never seen before.
"Who's that?" she whispered to Rachel.
She didn't get an answer, though, and turned her head to see a hurt look on Rachel's face. Her jaw was set hard and her arms were folded tightly across her chest.
Oh, shit. This isn't gonna end well.
When Brittany turned back to Santana's grand entrance, she and Afroboy were pointing their candy bars fiercely at everyone. Until Santana abruptly stopped.
"Oh, it's you guys!" she said with a grin. "I totally thought you were like a super evil organisation from Kazakhstan."
Kazakhstan?
She unwrapped the candy bar and started eating it as she walked to some open seats in the front row, far away from her and Rachel. Thank God.
Everyone was kind of just staring at Santana, Brittany included. Sure, she was goofy and a little eccentric, but even this was a little off base for her. Quinn didn't look too worried, so Brittany assumed that everything was sort of ok.
Ms. Sylvester was the first to break the silence. "Um, Santana, whilst I applaud your dramatic entrance-"
"There's nothing dramatic about candy bars, Ms. S, ok?" Santana cut in fiercely. "They make the world go round."
Tina and Mercedes were to first to snort. Ms. S just looked dumbfounded.
"Shall we continue, then?" she said tiredly. "This week's assignment is…" She trailed off as Santana's hand went waving around in the air frantically. She looked almost desperate. "Yes, Santana, what?"
"I have a question," she replied timidly.
Brittany stared at her. What the fuck was this girl on? Either that or she was one hell of an actress.
"And what is that question?" Ms. S asked in irritation.
"Um…" Santana frowned and looked at he candy bar, taking a huge bite of it and looking up thoughtfully.
This time Tina and Mercedes started giggling. Santana grinned a mouthful of chocolate at them and Brittany felt the corners of her mouth turn up. She was really trying not to laugh, ok? She didn't dare look at Rachel again.
"Blaine!" Santana suddenly yelled, standing up. "Oh my God, where's Blaine? Did he die in the field?"
"San, he's right next to you," Quinn said calmly.
Santana turned to her right and threw her arms around Afroboy.
Ok, seriously. What. The. Fuck.
"I thought you died!" she squealed. "I'm so happy you're alive. Oh! You can join Glee with us! It's so awesome, Blaine. We sing and we dance and I know you can sing and dance and then we can eat candy bars and be secret agents forever."
Holy shit. Santana's high.
It was so obvious now. Brittany shook her head in disbelief, but it didn't stop a smile from crawling onto her face. She leaned down to Rachel.
"She's high as a kite."
Rachel's reaction was definitely unexpected too. Her mouth dropped open and she shook her head in disbelief.
"We're gonna sing!" Santana announced. "Come on, Warbler. Oh my God! I used to call you that when we were younger! Do you remember, Blaine? Blaine Warbler." She laughed.
Afroboy, apparently Blaine, just grinned and stood up. He stood next to Santana as they whispered to each other quickly.
"Santana, is there-"
She held up her candy bar to cut Ms. S off and then she and Afroboy started snapping their fingers. They started humming together and it sounded a million times better than the theme music crap they were doing earlier. Brittany leaned a little forward in her chair, curious to see what high Santana would come up with.
Afroboy started singing acapella and Brittany stifled a laugh.
I was gonna clean my room until I got high
I gonna get up and find the broom, but then I got high
My room is still messed up and I know why
Because I got high
Because I got high
Because I got high
Santana took the next verse and most of the Glee Club were joining in on humming the melody.
I was gonna go to class before I got high
I coulda cheated and I coulda passed, but I got high
I am taking it next semester and I know why
Because I got high
Because I got high
Because I got high
Everyone joined in for the rest of the song and Brittany was pleasantly surprised to hear Rachel's voice harmonising along. She caught her best friend's eye and winked. Rachel returned it and nudged her shoulder.
Ok, so maybe things were fucked up. But it seemed like everything might be ok.
A/N: Or will it be...muhahahahaha :) My evil laugh is totally better than Santana's ;p Ok, so we've met my Blaine! He decided it was time that he made an appearance. Couldn't really argue with him. Cos, you know...
OMG, I killed myself writing this last bit. I have no idea where it came from. I guess I wanted to balance out the angst with some ridiculously stupid crazy funny times. Now, I've only smoked weed a handful of times, but we always got up to the craziest shit because, hey – when you're high, you can do anything ;p
And yes, Brittany is being a total bitch. But that's kinda the point. She is a bitch. She thinks that everything's hunky dory now cos she scratched her itch, but we shall see in the next chapter that everything is not as it seems... :)
Until next time! Would love to hear your thoughts, as always :D
-H