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Chapter Four: Voice

Santana stared at the test in front of her, feeling unable to concentrate. She had a billion thoughts buzzing through her mind.

Most of them had something to do with Brittany.

She was beginning to realise that she liked Brittany. Like, liked Brittany. At this point, they had been texting non-stop for a month. It took Santana about three weeks to notice her feelings.

But did Brittany feel the same way? She had no clue.

Sure, Brittany had said the odd flirty thing to her that made Santana think that maybe there could be a chance. But, that may just have been Brittany's way with everybody. It was hard to tell if somebody was flirting by looking at letters on screen, anyway.

It had been a little over two weeks since Santana came out to her parents, and she had told Brittany straight away, who seemed ecstatic, mentioning over and over again how proud of Santana she was. It made Santana feel all warm inside at Brittany saying those things to her, even over Facebook.

When Santana told Kurt her parents now knew, while at a sleepover at her house, he squealed and wrapped her up in his arms, swaying with her and saying how proud of her he was.

It didn't make her feel half as good as when she told Brittany, and she told her over the Internet.

God, she was screwed.

"I knew you could do it," Kurt sniffed, his sleeping bag discarded on the floor and still had his arm around Santana. "I'm so proud of you, Santana."

Santana laughed, shrugging his arm off her shoulder. "This doesn't mean you have permission to throw me a party and invite the President, Lady Hummel."

"I deserve that," Kurt nodded, chuckling.

Santana was on Kurt's couch, watching a terrible movie with him. It's what they did every Friday night. Kurt liked to call it their 'Weekly Bitching Night', which was exactly what it was. They used this time together to bitch about the people who annoyed them at school, so the conversations mainly consisted of Berry.

"So," Kurt drawled, trying to be subtle. "Did you tell your folks what's going on between you and Brittany?"

Santana nearly choked on her popcorn, and spluttered attractively. "What?" she coughed, pounding her chest with her fist.

"You heard me."

"There's nothing to tell," Santana said, frowning. "She lives in another state, Kurt."

Kurt smirked. "You clearly like her."

"All right, Mary-Kate Olsen," she snarled, pointing a finger under his nose. "I do not like Brittany. She's a nice girl, and we talk regularly, but that does not mean that I like her."

"Well, no, but the fact that your face lights up like a city whenever she texts you does."

"Unfair, and untrue." Santana crossed her arms over her chest, getting defensive.

Kurt shook his head. "Hey, don't get all pouty with me. You know I'm right. It's actually a little insulting that you won't even admit to your Best Gay that you have a little crush."

"You promised not to pull the BG card," Santana shouted, her defensive walls getting higher. "And 'little crush'? Really, Kurt?"

"Changing the subject," Kurt accused, starting to laugh.

Santana closed her eyes in defeat. "Okay, okay, calm down. Jesus." She exhaled. "Fine. I like her a little."

Kurt squealed in delight. "I knew it. This is great."

"I still have your infatuation with Triangle Brows against you, Kurt," Santana warned. "Don't get too ahead of yourself."

"Santana, it's okay if you like Brittany. She's a very pretty girl."

Santana was mildly offended by that comment. "It's not just her looks, I'm not that shallow."

Kurt gave her a look.

"Okay maybe I am." Santana threw her hands up in the air. "But it's not just her looks. She's so…" She couldn't even think of what to say.

Kurt smirked. "You got it that bad, huh?"

Santana was ready to attack but her phone started ringing next to her. "Good timing," she muttered.

Santana's heart nearly jumped out of her chest when she saw Brittany's name on the screen.

Although they had exchanged numbers weeks ago, they had still never talked on the phone. They had texted a hell of a lot, but they had still never heard each other's voices. Since Brittany had proposed the number exchange, Santana was stubbornly waiting for Brittany to make the first call.

To say she had grown impatient was an understatement, but Santana was adamant on Brittany calling first.

So, when she saw the number that she had been longing to contact her for weeks popping up on her screen, Santana froze like a deer caught in headlights.

Kurt noticed Santana's strange behaviour, and raised an eyebrow, nodding towards the phone. "What's wrong, Bambi? Answer it."

Santana was having trouble getting words out. She never felt so lame in her whole life. "It's Brittany," she panted out eventually.

Kurt's eyes bulged out of his head. "What? Really? Answer it, Santana!"

With shaky hands, Santana picked up her phone and answered it. She tried to concentrate on not sounding like a teenage boy going through puberty. "Hello?" she squeaked.

Damn it.

"Santana!" She could practically hear Brittany's grin through the phone. "It's great to hear your voice. It's a little higher than I expected."

Santana sighed. Trust Brittany to have the hottest voice she'd ever heard.

And also the sharpest ear for high noises.

"Uhm, I have a cold," Santana croaked, going about twenty octaves lower than usual.

Your first impression is going swimmingly, Santana.

Brittany laughed and Santana nearly passed out.

Oh God.

"So," Santana said, trying to ignore Kurt who was doubled over, laughing hard into a pillow. "Any particular reason why you called? Or you just want to chat?"

"Well, we've been texting for a month now, and I don't really like texting 'cause it takes forever to type, so I called. I hope that's okay. You're not busy, are you?"

Santana cleared her throat. "Nope, I'm not busy. Just hanging with Kurt right now."

"Oh!" Brittany sounded excited. "Is he there? Put him on, I'd love to speak to him."

Once Kurt heard that, he was already wrestling Santana for the phone, but Santana tried to fight him off.

"Oh, Kurt's busy right now, he's in the kitchen getting me a drink." It was awful excuse, and Santana probably sounded like she was getting crushed by an eighteen-year-old boy while saying it, because she was, but Brittany seemed to buy it.

"Well tell him I said hey," Brittany said.

"Let me speak to her, please," Kurt begged, sitting on his knees in front of Santana.

Santana put her hand over the speaker on her phone, and snapped her head towards him. "Absolutely not."

"That's not fair, Santana," Kurt whined. "She's my friend too. She was my friend first, as a matter of fact."

"Irrelevant, let me have this. I like her and this is my time talking to her." Santana hoped to God her hand was still over the speaker when she said that, and sighed in relief when she saw that it was.

"Fine," Kurt huffed, "but in ten minutes, I want to talk to her. If she's still on the phone, that is."

Santana frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

But by now, she could hear the confused sounding hellos coming from her phone, so she put it back up to her ear.

"Sorry Brittany," she said, glaring at Kurt. "I can talk properly now."

"Cool. How was school today?"

"All right, I guess," Santana said, shrugging. "I mean, it's school, it sucks anyway. Only a month to summer vacation though."

"Yeah, I'm super excited," Brittany said. "Any plans?"

"No, not really. It's my birthday around then so I'll probably do something with Lady Hummel."

"You know members of a royal family or something?"

Santana blushed. "Oh, no. That's my nickname for Kurt." Now it was Kurt's turn to glare at her.

Brittany laughed. "That's mean, Santana."

For revenge, Kurt quickly yanked the phone from Santana's hand and stood up, sprinting towards the kitchen. "Hi Brittany!" he yelled, running around the dining table.

Oh lord.

"Kurt?"

"Yeah!"

"Are you okay? You sound like you're running or something?"

Kurt panted as Santana looked furious, trying to chase Kurt around the marble kitchen counter. "I'm fine," he said, darting back into the living room. "Just excited to talk to you."

Santana managed to grab the phone off him. "Sorry, Kurt's being an ass."

"It's okay," Brittany chucked.

"Bye Brit," Kurt shouted, before getting thumped on the arm by Santana.

"Listen, Santana, could I talk to you later? I have to have dinner now."

Santana deflated. "Oh. Sure, sure."

"It was really nice hearing your voice, Santana."

"You too," Santana spluttered.

She ended the call, and immediately groaned into a pillow, burying her face in it. "I really hate you, Kurt."

"You were charming," he laughed, pinching her cheek.

Santana swatted his hand away, before holding her head in her hands. "I blew it."

"Stop being dramatic, it went well, I think."

"Did you not hear her?" Santana shouted, getting frustrated. "She couldn't get off the phone fast enough."

Kurt breathed out, before smiling softly. "We need to make a plan."

Santana did not like the sound of this. "What do you mean?"

"I really like the idea of you and Brittany together. You balance each other out."

"I will make sure you do not get involved in this if it's the last thing I do, Porcelain."

"Santana," Kurt started, sighing. "You're clearly struggling with this girl."

"You think?" Santana asked.

Kurt put his hand on Santana's arm, trying to be comforting. "You and Brittany are literally each other's opposites."

"Quite literally," Santana agreed, nodding.

"Which is why I think you could work."

Santana was exasperated, throwing her hands up in the air. "She probably doesn't even like me in that way."

"You don't know that. I think she does."

"Don't get my hopes up, Kurt," Santana said. "Please."

Kurt shook his head. "I'm telling you the truth. I wouldn't just talk to someone every single day for a month without feeling at least something towards them."

Santana groaned. "I really don't know if that makes things better or worse. I'm pretty sure I just blew it on the phone."

"Back to my plan, I think I should start talking you up to Brittany."

"No," Santana warned. "No, no, no, no, no. If she's gonna like me, she's gonna have to figure it out herself. I don't want you to force her into liking me or anything."

Kurt shrugged. "Personally, I don't think I have to do anything to make her like you. It seems like she already does."

"What did I just say about getting my hopes up?"

"Santana."

"Kurt, I'm warning you," Santana said. "If you do anything that could possibly ruin this for me, I will be as mad as I was during the Cohen Chang Incident of 2013."

Kurt froze. "No."

"Yes."

"In Tina's defence, she had no idea that woman was a hooker."

"Total lie, Tina showed me her business card." Santana nodded vigorously.

Kurt winced. "Even I get uncomfortable when someone brings that up, and I had nothing to do with it."

"Anyway," Santana said. "Back to the possibility of Brittany hating me right now."

Kurt sighed. "You're just being paranoid, Santana. She sounded so happy to talk to you."

Santana let her head fall back against the couch. "Really?"

"Definitely."

"You're not just making that up to make me feel better?" Santana questioned.

"I wouldn't do that, Santana."

Kurt watched as his best friend smiled dreamily.