Mea Culpa : Quia peccavi nimis verbo et opere.
"For I have sinned in word and deed."
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, I do however own this story, I'm just borrowing the characters.
A/N: A big thanks to aliesmyles, Lanter, crazyfornaya and yourcrackerjackx for reviewing and all of your kind words :). I must admit I was getting a bit demoralised by the lack of reviews, seeing as how many people are actually viewing the ff. Regardless, thank you to everyone who is checking it out – I do appreciate it, honest! Also another rec' for you all "This is for Real" by bazzer. Another ff I get excited about every time I see that it's been updated! We're kicking this chapter off with another memory...
She could see it.
Santana wasn't a fool; she could see the emotion pouring from Brittany.
It was an assembly on the appreciation of the arts, and Brittany and Mike were currently twisting into and out from each other. At points they were separate entities, their
arms weaving back and forth, the moves disjointed and yet somehow flowing. But when they came together, Mike spun her into his arms then twisted her into the air bringing
her back in with an embrace, Brittany's legs wrapping around his waist as he lay her gently on the floor – Santana could feel the hurt. The intimacy of some of the moments
made the jealousy rise up Santana's throat, unbearable to control at points but she maintained a cool and collected demeanour. Within the final moments were the hardest
when Brittany pulled Mike to the floor and he wrapped his arms around her protectively - moulding his body around her. The audience began to cheer loudly. When they finally
stood up and looked out at the crowd she could feel Brittany's eyes on her. Santana stared straight back knowing this was how Brittany told her how she was feeling. Brittany
didn't use words she used her body and seeing that routine brought about feelings of guilt.
Brittany had clearly chosen Mad by Ne-Yo after their fight the other night. The words were apt for that situation – "I'm yelling over her, she's yelling over me" it was as if the
song was created for that moment.
It had happened a few days before when Brittany had initiated kissing again. When Santana reciprocated she had taken it further, cupping Santana's breast hesitantly. When
there was no rebuttal she slowly edged her fingers down her body to where the hem of her skirt rested. She'd drawn her fingers softly up Santana's thigh trying to figure out if
she was going to freak out at any particular moment. For once, Brittany had read the signs completely wrong. As she tried to move her hand up higher, Santana was broken
from her reverie of how good it felt to have Brittany touch her, to realising how wrong it all was.
A shouting match ensued. Brittany sat on the bed crying, her arms encircling her knees that were brought in tightly to her chest. Santana stood over her, yelling saying how
wrong it all was, how people at school call her a lesbian because she does motocross, how she can't keep doing things like that. Then the nastiest words possible slipped from
the Latina's mouth.
"This is the worst night of my life!" Santana screamed, "Are you trying to make me gay like you?" Brittany cried harder, burying her face into her arms. Santana stopped and
wished she could rewind time and take those words back, but that was it, the words had been thrown carelessly hurting the one person she truly cared for.
She bent down slightly and tried to touch Brittany's arm, but she pulled away from the intruding hands.
"Don't touch me" she spat back. The venom in her voice had taken Santana by surprise; she'd never heard Brittany get angry before. She sprung up from the bed, towering
over the Latina causing her to cower slightly.
"I know it's difficult for you to understand Santana, because you think everything is about you, and how you are feeling, but what about me?" She clenched her hands into
fists; her eyes were wide, flaring with anger. "How do you think I feel? I'm not some toy that can be picked up whenever you feel like it, and you can't turn someone gay, you
are or you aren't accept it. Why don't you for a change actually think about me? When was the last time you even asked me how I was?"Santana had backed away from her,
feeling the rawness and the heat of Brittany's temper, she felt like she was standing next to a raging fire and she was afraid that she would get burnt.
"I get that you don't want to do anything, but don't put the blame on me for attempting to do something about it all – something that you're too afraid of doing yourself."
There it was, it stung, but Santana knew it was the truth; but right now she couldn't accept it.
"I didn't ask for any of this Britt, it was all you – you want this I don't." Brittany strode over to the door opening it up.
"Get out." It was a simple request, but the Latina didn't move. She couldn't believe Brittany was kicking her out.
"What?"
"Get out now. I don't even want to look at you right now so go home."
Santana walked slowly up to the door, pausing briefly before she continued through the opening.
"And when you've figured out some stuff we can talk." Brittany's voice was barely a whisper, uttering the words slowly and softly just enough for her to hear. Santana nodded
and walked through wiping the tears from her eyes as she walked away for what would be the third time.
Now she sat there, staring at Brittany as she left the stage her head bowed. Puck's voice intruded on her thoughts.
"I've hit that four times so far this week," his voice crowed to the surrounding jocks. "I'm gonna go for five tonight." She heard the crack of Puck high fiving a team mate
behind her.
"So Lopez and now Pierce – how do you do it man?" Azimio said sounding in awe.
"No one can resist Puckasaurus, I'll aim for a threesome next time." Another round of high fives sounded and Santana realised she was pressing her nails into her palms.
She turned around in her seat and glared at him.
"Firstly Puck I've seen a bigger dick on an ant. Secondly, I've had loads of orgasms – you weren't present for any one of them. Lastly, when I told you impotence happens to
every guy, it doesn't – just you."
Karofsky started laughing as Puck slid down in his seat. They'd never had sex, but Santana had put Puck in a difficult position. He could either admit that he hadn't had sex
with her- then it would show what a liar he was or he could accept what she had said and move on.
"Well, Britt doesn't seem to have a problem coming; maybe you should loosen up Lopez and stop being so frigid all the time." He smirked back at her his arms folded. She leant
over the back of her chair smiling sweetly at him. He didn't expect her fist to hit him in his groin. He keeled over, eyes watering.
"Looks like you won't be coming at all tonight Noah." With that she stood up and smoothed over her skirt, looking back once more at the boy holding onto his crotch as if it
would ease the pain.
She needed to find Brittany and quickly.
She ran out of the assembly wanting to talk to Brittany. Santana wouldn't admit it, but she was jealous and hurt over the things that Puck had said.
Brittany hadn't even mentioned having sex with anyone since her first time. As she barrelled down hallway after hallway, ducking in and out of classrooms and locker rooms
and having no luck, it dawned on her where Brittany might be. She immediately made her way outside to where the bleachers stood. Sitting underneath was Brittany, staring
off into the distance.
Santana approached her cautiously- afraid of the conversation that was about to happen. When she drew in closer, Brittany's posture changed- she sat up straighter, almost
rigid.
"Hi" Santana whispered.
"Hello" she replied but she didn't turn around. Santana stepped into the line of vision, she needed to see Brittany's reaction when she asked her.
"Was that dance-"she hesitated, but decided the uncertainty was killing her. "- was the dance about us?" Brittany nodded slowly, knowing that wasn't the only question she
wanted to ask her.
"Have you been having sex with Puck?" Brittany's face went blank, her lack of a response made Santana feel sick.
"Have you?"
"What does it matter to you anyway San? You need to figure everything out for yourself first before you start worrying about what I am doing." Her voice was cold, calm and
radiated authority.
"You know what; fine fuck him all you want. But I won't stick up for you again; you'll have to fight your own battles!"
"If that's what it takes San, then so be it." Brittany was almost emotionless, Santana was trying to elicit some kind of reaction – just anything, but the lack of it made
Santana worried. It was as if she had given up completely.
But given up on what? There was nothing to give up on.
Before her mind could process what she was doing Santana's lips found Brittany's and she was smothering her in a kiss. However, she pushed her back gently making sure
not to upset the Latina any further.
"San, you can't just kiss me whenever you want. You need to figure it all out before this goes any further." She didn't respond, Santana just walked away feeling the tears
threatening to brim over. She swallowed hard stopping herself from crying, her hands fumbled for her phone in her bag.
She pulled it out and tapped out a quick text.
"Hey ;) what are you up to tonight? Come mine?" Even as she sent the text she felt the familiar churn of nausea in her stomach. Her phone began flashing signalling a text.
"Be there at 8." With that she returned her phone to her bag, and breathed in a slow and shaky breath. She would go through with tonight, to prove to herself that she could
do it, that she was definitely straight.
Santana switched her I-pod off; she hadn't bothered listening to Ne-Yo since that performance and she especially didn't want to hear it just before going to work. No
matter how hard she tried to avoid these triggers or repress the memories they still wormed their way into her mind, pointing out all the worst parts about her self
and all the bad times that they had. Thinking back, she couldn't remember one time when they were truly happy together but then again she wasn't trying that hard.
It was too hard to forget and so easy to reminisce.
Her hand smoothed over the two crumpled up pieces of paper, one with Puck's handwriting and the other with Brittany's handwriting. She kept pulling them from her
pocket, staring for a moment then putting them away for safe keeping. Santana was slowly working up the courage to call or text, just to get some closure. Maybe
then she could confront everything that had happened, how rapidly Brittany had changed and finally be able to say goodbye. She wondered if she was strong enough
to do it again, the first time almost broke her so how would it be this time?
Santana reasoned it was the right thing to do, because she couldn't live like this anymore. Whatever happens – happens. She was going to see how this would all
play out.
She pulled out her phone, tapping out a text.
"Meet me at mine at 8 tomorrow. San." Her thumb hovered over the buttons as she stared at the well worn piece of paper with Brittany's number on it. Before she
could think anymore she typed in the number and hit send.
As soon as she did she wanted to take it back. But she was stuck now. She had to see this thing through.
She was still Santana Lopez. A Lopez never backs out of anything – and that was a fact. Even so, her palms began to sweat even in such freezing temperatures and
she could feel her pulse quicken. But she could do this; she kept telling herself.
I can do this.