Chapter 3: Twenty-One
You found her when you were twenty-one years old.
Your alarm goes off at 10:00 a.m. and you throw your pillow at your night stand, groaning at the noise. You had a long night, partying with your roommates at a local bar downtown, and the last thing you want to do right now is get ready for class. You have to blink your eyes a few times before the blurriness goes away. When you roll over, you reach for your phone to stop the annoying sounds that are assaulting your ears.
Pushing your legs off the bed, you sit up and flip your bedside light on. The light intrudes your dark room and you groan again.
"Santana," The girl in your bed mumbles and you turn to look at her, rolling your eyes. You obviously have a type. She's blonde, of course, but not your blonde. This girl is just another one of your one-night stands.
I don't want you to wait for me.
You think about Brittany's words and scowl. You hope that wherever she is, somewhere out there, she's just a miserable as you are. You've had a few decent relationships since officially coming out back in high school, but nothing worked out. It never does.
None of them had the same effect on you. None of them were Brittany. You try to ignore how sad it is that for the past five years, you've basically been pinning over some girl you barely know, and it's all because of some stupid feeling. And a stupid love letter.
You kind of resent her a little for jading you in this way. She's turned herself into forbidden fruit and now you only want her. It's like a constant craving and nothing else can fill that void. She turned into this irresistible, but unattainable being and it honestly kind of ruined you.
The worst part though, is that you let her. You didn't have to, but you followed her wishes. You didn't look for her. You didn't wait for her. You lived your life. But you still have her letter and every once in a while, when you're cleaning out your closet, you'll read it.
You did your best to stop yourself from fabricating a made-up image of her, what you think she's like now. You didn't want to taint your memory. You didn't want your desire for her to grow based on false ideals and imaginations.
"Come back to bed." The girl beside you pleads and you have to stand to move away from her arms as she reaches for you.
You realize still have last night's clothes on which you're actually relieved about because that means you didn't sleep with her. You probably passed out as soon as your head hit the pillow.
"I have class." You tell her as you move towards your dresser to grab fresh clothes.
The girl sits up and yawns, "You shouldn't have to go to class on your birthday. Stay."
You sigh, this part is never not awkward. But you don't really feel like beating around the bush. Especially not today, your birthday. "Look, I'm sorry if you got the wrong impression, but I'm not really interested in… this." You say and motion between the two of you.
It takes her a second, but she surprisingly takes the news well and just sighs. You thank god she's not one of the crazy ones and move to your desk to grab her purse, handling it to her so that she can gather her things. It's not long before she's walking out and you're shutting the apartment door behind her.
"Happy Birthday." You mutter to yourself before heading for the shower.
Once you're done in the bathroom, you walk out and see Mercedes slouching on the couch, her head in her hands and a glass of water on the coffee table in front of her. She looks up at you when she hears you chuckle.
"How much did we drink, and why?" She groans.
"A lot. And I'm pretty sure you and Tina are mostly to blame for that." You shuffle over and sit beside her, taking the water from the table and drinking some of it. You grimace as the liquid hits your throat, but you know you need it. Last night was definitely rough. As soon as it hit 12:00am, you were handed shot after shot. Your friends reasoned that you needed to 'catch up'.
"Yeah well, you only turn 21 once," She says, and you laugh. You rub her back to soothe her a little before heading to the kitchen for separate glass of water.
You make sure to stop by Tina's bedroom on the way to yours to check on her. When you turn on her bedroom light, she whines and throws a pillow your way. It doesn't reach far, and you smile as you walk in, placing the water on her nightstand. You chuckle to yourself when you hear her mumble a quiet thank you just as you're walking out. Your friends really can't handle their liquor.
The rest of the day passes like it normally does. Nothing special. Your parents call you around lunchtime in between classes and you're glad to hear their voices. Ever since you've left Ohio for college in Southern California, they've been a little more clingy than they usually are. But you don't mind the attention. USC may be great and all, but sometimes you can get a little homesick.
Throughout the day, you receive Happy Birthday texts from your other high school friends in a group chat and you're glad that they still care about you, despite you being a total bitch to them for all those years. You've changed a lot since then. Even though you still cut people with your vicious words, it's usually done in defense of one of your friends. And although, you'd never actually admit it to them, you know they know how you feel. Yes, even Berry.
When you finally get home just after 4:00 pm, Mercedes is there waiting for you with a mischievous grin and her hands behind her back. You narrow your eyes at her as you put your bag down on the counter, "What did you do now?"
She smiles at you before bringing her hands forward and showing you three VIP tickets to an exclusive club downtown. At the thought of more alcohol, you groan and make your way to the couch, laying down and covering your face with your arm.
"Come on, Santana. You can't stay home on your 21st birthday. I'm pretty sure that's written as law somewhere. Especially if it's a Friday night." She tells you and move your arm to peek up at her.
"Mercedes, I don't know." You sigh, "I'm still recovering from last night."
"You've been moping about for months since your last break up and now that I got the ins to the hottest lesbian club in LA, you want to stay home?"
"I haven't been moping around," you frown, and she looks at you pointedly. "So, I may not have been the happiest, but it's not like I'm not getting any."
"Girl, you don't think I know that?" She laughs. "We share a wall." Her smile softens, "But you need connection, Santana. You've always needed that."
"And I'm supposed to find connection at a nightclub?" You laugh, and she rolls her eyes.
"No, but you can at least have a little fun." Another voice calls from the door and look up to see Tina smiling as she walks in. From the way they both were acting this morning, you wouldn't have thought they'd be so willing and able to go for round two.
It takes some convincing but eventually you agree to go out. Tina and Mercedes can hardly contain their excitement as you're all getting ready because really, they've been wanting to go to this club probably more than you do. You love a good time and all, but nothing good ever comes out of going to the club. You always wake up the next morning with a pounding headache, a lot less money in your bank account, and another random blonde in your bed. But, maybe this time it'll be different.
Oh, universe.
You make it to the club a little after 10:00 p.m. and your friends are jumping up and down the minute you all step through the doors. It was a breeze getting in, thanks to the VIP tickets that Mercedes provided to the bouncer. The entire space is covered with speakers and you can feel the bass pound heavy on your chest as Tina pulls you and Mercedes to the bar for a few rounds of shots, before you all make your way onto the dance floor.
It doesn't take you long before you begin to loosen up and start enjoying yourself. You're definitely feeling the effects of the alcohol and you're actually kind of glad that your friends dragged you out of the apartment for this. They were right, it is your 21st birthday after all. There's something freeing about using a real ID instead of a fake to get in to places like this. Like you can fully let loose for once.
After more than an hour and a handful more of shots, Mercedes motions to you that they're going back to the bar to grab more drinks. You nod at her, letting her know you'll be fine on your own, and watch as she and Tina disappear into a sea of strangers. You're enjoying the music as you sway with the beat when strong arms suddenly wrap around your waist from behind.
The contact causes you to stumble forward but when their arms pull you closer, and your bodies collide, it makes your entire body shiver. "What the fu-"
"Do you believe in fate?" A female's voice floats to your ears and your eyes widen in shock. Your body stills. You can feel heavy breathing against the side of your neck as the body behind you continues to move with the music. Your hands find purchase on the arms around you and you can't quite explain the feeling of familiarity.
You must be drunk. You must be a little too drunk because you don't know if what you heard is really what you heard. You can't decide if you want to turn around to look or not because you don't want to be disappointed when you find out it's not her. You tell yourself it's just not possible. How can she be here, in LA, more than two thousand miles away from the last place you've seen her? What are the chances?
"Santana," she breathes, and you know now that it's true. You still remember the sound of your name on her lips. She's really here, pressed up against your back and there's so much contact. You want to turn around to finally look at her, to see how she's changed over the years, but her arms hold you there. "Not yet," She says as she quickly reaches up to move all of your hair to one side, exposing your neck to her. Her lips move to your ear, grazing them slightly before whispering, "Dance with me."
You almost growl. She has this effect on you and you can't control yourself. When her arms loosen around you and her hands find the curves of your waist, you push yourself closer to her, begging for more contact again. She takes the hint as one of her arms move up and across your chest to hold you there and your head drops back onto her shoulder, your eyes closed.
Brittany doesn't skip a beat. She moves her head down and her lips find your neck easily, exposed and waiting for her. It feels like ecstasy when she presses soft kisses to your pulse point. You feel her tongue dart out just a little and your hand flies up in response to run your fingers through her blonde hair. You can feel Brittany's grin against your skin just before she moves her lips back to your ear.
"You taste amazing," She whispers and just for good measure, she gentle nips at your earlobe with her teeth. You gasp for air and your knees almost buckle at the new sensation. How did you get this turned on this fast? You return the favor by rolling your hips back into her and you hear her inhale sharply, not expecting it. Her reaction makes you smirk, glad to know that you're both on the same page. That you have as much of an effect on her as she does on you.
She recovers from her misstep quickly and soon you both find a rhythm. It's sensual and sultry, and after confirming the very obvious mutual state you're both in, you don't hold back. If you weren't so drunk, you would think it's a bit too inappropriate as far as public displays go. You can't explain it, though. It's like the feeling, the pull, went from a flame to a five-alarm fire, engulfing anything and everything around you. All inhibition thrown out the window.
Brittany's hands take the time to explore your entire body and the only thought in your mind is the fact that you're jealous that you can't exactly return the favor. Not in this position. But once Brittany's fingertips find their way just inside the front of your top and onto your stomach, you don't stop the desperate moan that rips from your throat.
The sound, you're sure she's heard, spurs her on to explore more and soon flat hands begin to fully move across your tightened abs. "Brittany, please." You manage to breathe.
She suddenly lets go completely and you stumble back in confusion. But then you're being pulled by your hand off of the dancefloor and out of the club.
Once you stumble outside, you feel the cool air surround your body just before you're being pushed backwards into the brick wall of the building. Brittany's body holding you there. You barely have a second before she's assaulting your neck with open mouthed kisses. It makes you dizzy, and not because you're very clearly drunk on alcohol. You're drunk on Brittany. Your fingers find her hair again.
You try not to be disappointed when she slowly halts her movements and places a soft kiss to your jawline before leaning back. You're left breathless.
"Sorry," She breathes, "I just couldn't help myself." Her eyes a shade darker than you remember them being. "I hope that was okay."
"That was more than okay," You say as you smile up at her. Your hands rest on her waists and her hands move up and down your ribs, caressing you. Her face softens when you move a hand up to her cup her cheeks. You still can't believe she's actually here, in LA, right in front of you. You wonder if she lives in the area now. Or maybe if she's attending USC, same as you. Now that you've found her again, and she's here, maybe you can finally start something real. Your heart soars at the thought.
Your eyes dart across her face and you take everything in. She's grown up a lot since you last saw her. Her bangs are gone now, but her hair is still long and wavy. As she holds you there, you can feel how strong her arms are. Her face being so close to yours, you can finally see everything, tracing constellations with your thumb on her light freckles. You watch as her eyes roam your face and you wonder if she's doing the same as you, committing your features to memory.
"You're so beautiful." Brittany says softly, and you can see a flicker in her eyes. Her confession makes your heartbeat quicken. Your eyes drop to her lips and you watch as she licks them slowly. You think about how soft they felt against your neck and how you desperately need to know now what they'll feel like against your lips.
"I really want to kiss you right now." You find your voice and you're surprised at how raspy it is.
Brittany looks at your lips and her eyes darken. But just before you can close your eyes and lean in, you feel the loss of contact on your entire body.
When you look at Brittany, she's a few feet away, looking at you and biting her bottom lip apologetically.
"God, Brittany. You can't keep doing this to me." You sigh, clearly frustrated at the way she's toying with you. It takes you a second to recover and you tilt your head back against the brick wall. It isn't fair. She obviously lost control earlier, you should be given the same opportunity.
She steps closer again, but this time moves to lean back against the wall beside you. "I know, I'm so sorry. I just- I don't want this to be-" she sighs. "We're both very drunk, Santana."
You look to her at your side and she's frowning slightly. You understand why.
She doesn't want this to be just another fling. You don't want to put her in that category either. She doesn't want to kiss you right now because it should mean something. Something more than alcohol and heavy dancing. It's the same reason you avoid kissing when you're with your one-night stands. You've always felt that a kiss was too intimate to do with a complete stranger, as fucked up as that sounds. You don't mind having sex with a stranger but kissing? Big no-no.
But Brittany also isn't a stranger to you. Sure, you know next to nothing about her, but at the same time you've known her for so long. It's a weird paradox you live in and you don't exactly know where you stand. You don't want her to think you're upset with her though, so you reach for her hand beside you, linking your pinky with hers. You give it a small squeeze and she looks at you with a soft smile.
"Britt! There you are!"
At the recognition of her name, Brittany turns away from you and looks at the small group of people stumbling out of the club doors. They look beyond drunk and to be honest, they don't seem like the kind of people you'd imagine to be Brittany's friends either. On second thought, they don't really seem like the kind of people that could even get into a club like this. They seem kind of… out of place. She turns back to you and your eyebrow is already arched in question.
"Looks like our time is up." She pouts, and you shake your head.
"Not so fast." You click your tongue. "You're not getting away that easy and I'm definitely not making the same mistake twice." You tell her and pull out your phone. When you try to turn it on, you get nothing but a blank screen. Of course, it's dead. Of course you were dumb enough to use up most of your battery playing music while you were getting ready earlier. You look at her expectantly, but she too holds up a blank phone screen.
Fucking. Karmic. Universe.
"You have got to be fucking kidding me." You exhale and Brittany giggles before pulling you off the wall and towards the club entrance.
Brittany's group of friends are off to the side and you get a better look at them. They don't look like the clubbing type. If anything, Brittany is the only one in her group that's actually dressed for the venue. But they look like they had a good time and they're all smiles and giggles as they wait patiently for Brittany.
You stand there watching as Brittany bats her lashes to the bouncers and asks them for a pen. They happily provide her with one and you're giddy with excitement. With pen in hand, she steps up to you and grabs your wrist softly. You watch closely as she quickly scribbles ten digits onto your forearm, nice and big so you'll be able to read it properly once you're a little more sober.
When she's done, she looks at you and you're pretty sure your smiling like an idiot. Big and dopey, completely unashamed. She chuckles at you and blushes.
"Goodnight, Santana." She smiles and places one last kiss to your cheeks before turning around and walking to her friends. You watch with a smile when you see her giggle shyly as they tease her with oohs and ahhs. They all pile into a taxi and you watch as it disappears down the road.
By the time you wake up the next day, it's already close to noon. You're lying in bed for a few minutes waking up slowly, when you suddenly remember the events of last night. You throw the covers off and sit up, lifting your arm as your eyes try to focus on the scribbles.
You can't believe it. You can't believe that after all these years, you've successfully obtained Brittany's phone number.
And it's mother-fucking smudged.
