Brittany slaps her. It feels like opposite day, and yet the sheathing pain on her cheek reminds her it's real. Santana calls her B. It feels more like opposite day.
The red mark continues to grow redder, yet she allows herself to block everything out.
I hit Santana?
Why I would never!
You know Rachel witnessed Brittany hit you?
Lies. All lies.
Why would she hit me, I never hit Santana? I would never do such a thing.
Denial can be very persuasive.
But here she is. Back against the locker, face red and stinging. All eyes are on her, the new girl: her face strong and unapologetic. It would almost seem iconic if that's where it ended.
Her hand is agape over her mouth. Shock has set in. Her eyes have dilated. Hand froze over her unclosed mouth. Legs unmoving.
She can't pretend to she didn't witness what she has, Brittany slapping Belle. Slapping Quinn.
Many a thing had happened in McKinley hall. Mr Shue and his wife breaking up. Mr Shue and Emma getting together. Mr Shue and Finn arguing over Glee club choreography. Nothing like this. Brittany never fought. Brittany barely ever raised her voice. Yet here she was doing both.
It's undeniable, the effect Santana has on Brittany. Shoulders once tense and Square become relaxed and at ease.
" Sorry B. We'll talk later."
Cold water, it's her only friend. It cascades slowly over her face, red and flustered.
"Did she just call me B?" It's the first thought that she allows herself to comprehend. Many run through her mind, but she focuses on this one. The least heavy thought. She wont't allow herself to think of the one that actually may matter:
Rachel Will Never Forgive Me.
So she avoids. A thing she learnt at a very early age. One challenge at a time, one that can be tackled head on.
Santana. Then Brittany.
She concentrates on the cold ice water. Streaming untamed down her face.
Forget.
It has become her mantra.
"I'm not Belle Blake." The thought is repeated, and believed.
" Yo B," she can't help but jump. Warnings from her parents are heeded, and the overreaction occurs; causing Quinn to throw water over herself,
"Fuck sake!"
"Why are you saying sorry?," Santana proposes.
"I wasn't" Belle returns perplexed, with an arched eyebrow.
"Well you should have," a smirk rises across her face. Satisfied with her response and her reaction of Belle.
"Are you serious?"
"Well you did punch me?"
"You deserved it!" the anger grows, it's hard to contain, but she's not sure she wants it too.
" Calm down Barbie, I'm just yanking your chain."
Her façade falls, she has no wall for what's happening. What does one do, when people tell the truth?
"Where you dropped on your head? Is this some kind of joke?" the sarcasm is laced in the sentence, she manages to find a way to reply.
"No baby dropping. No joke."
There is an uncertain silence. Neither know how to respond. Neither have gotten this far in an actual conversation.
The door swishes open, Brittany pacing into the room. Eyes on Belle, gradually switching to Santana.
She never meant to hit Belle. Just simply talk. She's usually the one that always talks. But something just overcame her serene nature, and she snapped. She can't blame herself for what happened, she knows better. Santana was in trouble, Belle needed to pay.
"I'm sorry"
"You're sorry?"
"Is that not what i said?"
"Yes. No. That's not what i meant. I'm sorry: To both of you."
She actually means it when she apologises. She means it when Brittany hugs her, and she hugs back. She means the awkward handshakes between her and Santana.
She means it when she promises to herself she won't screw it up with her and Rachel again.
It took me forever to update this fic. I'm sorry to anyone that is actually reading it. I've ideas, but don't have the time to write them. But thank you for staying if you have.
:)