II.
October 29th, 2011
Okay, so maybe going on a haunted hayride with Brittany's mom, dad, and little sister isn't the coolest date in the world or anything, but Brittany still thinks that it's a fun thing to do and feels really glad to have Santana along with her, even if Santana doesn't actually know that it's a date.
Brittany grins at Santana like a goof all the way through the parking lot. When the family stands in line, Santana fidgets and Brittany can tell that it's because Santana wants to hold her hand. Brittany and Santana haven't held hands in public yet, but they've started holding hands a lot in Brittany's bedroom, like when they watch movies or sometimes when they fall asleep together.
They never used to hold hands before, just pinky fingers.
Now Santana hovers at Brittany's elbow and stands on tiptoe to see whether the line is moving or not, brushing up against Brittany's jacket like it's an accident, only it isn't—it's a wish.
"I could pay for my own ticket," Santana offers, helpless, as Brittany's dad steps up to the window to purchase a family pass.
"I got it, Santana-banana," Brittany's dad declines, waving her off.
Overhead, the sky is close-black and starless. Around them, the night air has no summertime heat left in it, just autumn chill. Bright floodlights illuminate the parking lot and the ticket booth, but the forest beyond the parking lot looms dark, a matrix of taller and smaller branches. Dried leaves scuttle along the asphalt, crablike.
Brittany reaches out and tugs the flap on the back of Santana's letterman jacket to distract Santana from being so nervous. She guides Santana around to face her. "Hey, you," she says, feeling bright all over, even though it's dark outside.
"Hey," Santana says back, her voice high and soft.
Brittany grins at Santana. "I'm really glad you're here."
For a second, Santana's eyes dart back and forth between Brittany's, and Brittany can almost see Santana marking a tally in her mind—one point in favor of this outing being a date. Brittany decides right then to help Santana mark a lot more mental tallies tonight. She smiles at Santana, wide. When she does, Santana's eyes turn soft.
"I'm really glad you invited me," Santana says, and it somehow sounds like a bigger confession than it actually is.
"Well, I'm really glad you accepted my invitation."
"And I'm really glad that you—"
"Mom! They're doing that thing again!" Brittany's little sister wails, and Brittany turns to see her little sister stomping her shoes hard against the pavement, like whatever it is that she thinks that Brittany and Santana are doing is somehow just too much for her to stand.
"What thing?"
Brittany's mom hardly minds Brittany's sister's complaint, paying more attention to whether Brittany's dad remembers to put his credit card back in his wallet or not than to what's going on around her or to anything that Brittany and Santana might possibly be doing wrong.
"They're being all grateful to each other," Brittany's sister gripes.
"And that's bad?" Brittany's mom quirks an eyebrow, genuinely confused.
Brittany's sister just huffs, like she can't believe their mom doesn't see the problem. Her breath crystallizes, white against the dark and cold. She shoves her hands deeper into her pockets.
"It's gross," she explains.
Brittany's dad winks at Brittany and Santana. "Stop being so nice to each other, you two," he jokes. "You know how we feel about that kind of behavior in this family."
Brittany just rolls her eyes at her dad, but Santana swallows hard and looks like she genuinely wants to apologize to everyone for being too nice or something. She glances back and forth between Brittany's parents and Brittany's sister and Brittany, and Brittany knows that she's wondering if she's somehow said or done too much.
Even though Santana doesn't know that this outing is a date, she obviously really wants it to be one. The trouble is that Santana isn't very good at allowing herself to have the things that she really wants. Sometimes it's like Santana thinks she's drowning, even though she's standing safe in super shallow water. When that happens, Brittany has to play lifeguard.
"Can't help it," Brittany says, throwing her arms around Santana from behind, leaning in for a backwards hug. At first, Santana gasps, surprised, and then she holds her breath. Brittany's fingers link around Santana's waist, and all at once she can feel Santana's heat bloom against the cold. She buries her chin against Santana's jacket, right at Santana's shoulder. "Santana is so nice that I just have to be nice back to her."
Brittany's dad laughs and musses Brittany's sister's hair. "Well, that kind of settles it, huh?" he teases. Brittany's sister just rolls her eyes, annoyed that everyone has outvoted her and ignored her complaint.
When Brittany doesn't immediately pull away from her, Santana relaxes into Brittany's touch. She breathes again. "You're too nice," she mumbles.
What she says somehow sounds like a million different kinds of thank you all at once.
They only make it five minutes into the haunted hayride before Santana starts shivering. Brittany nudges Santana with her elbow. "Are you cold?" Brittany asks, even though she already knows what Santana's answer will be.
Santana glances across the aisle at Brittany's parents and sister before she answers. "I'm fine. Thank you, Britt," she says politely, hiding her hands further into her pockets.
Despite what she claims, her knees knock together, the pleats of her Cheerios skirt flimsy over her legs. If Coach hadn't have held practice so late, maybe Santana and Brittany would have had time to change out of their cheer uniforms before meeting up with Brittany's family for the evening's activities. As it is, they're both bare-legged, though they do have their letterman jackets and Under Armour shirts on.
Brittany eyes the goosebumps over Santana's skin, suspicious. "Are you sure?" she pushes.
Everyone around them wears long pants and coats, and Brittany's little sister even sports a floppy koala bear hat with woolly ears. Santana's white breath ghosts against the shadows.
Santana smiles. "Yup," she says sweetly. Then again, "Thank you."
Brittany can't help but roll her eyes just a little bit. "Liarpants," she grins.
Fifteen minutes later, they have seen two boogeymen, Elvis, and four people dressed as zombies, plus they've listened to at least three loops of the creepy, screamy, chain-clinky Halloween soundtrack that the hayride company blasts through the woods.
Santana's teeth won't stop chattering; Brittany can actually hear them clacking together, even though Santana keeps her mouth shut.
If Brittany and Santana were alone together, Brittany would just wrap Santana up in a big hug and cuddle Santana warm, but since there are tons of people around, including Brittany's family, Brittany knows that she can't do that—not yet anyway.
"You should wear my jacket," Brittany blurts out, not really thinking.
Santana's eyes turn very wide and her voice turns very small. "But I'm already wearing my jacket, BrittBritt," Santana says, checking Brittany's parents' reaction across the aisle. "I'm fine. I promise—," but despite Santana's protests, Brittany begins extricating herself from her sleeves and setting her jacket over Santana's legs like a blanket.
"I don't want you to hurt your teeth," Brittany says gently.
Santana tries to protest, "Britt—"
But Brittany fixes her with a fervent look: "Santana Lopez, will you please wear my jacket?"
Right then, whatever argument Santana intended to make dies on her lips, and, even though it's dark, Brittany sees that wishing look glint in Santana's eyes again, like Brittany just said something that Santana wants to hear over and over on repeat, like a favorite song. Santana's smile turns very soft and she shrinks a little where she sits.
"Okay," she says, just as sweet as if Brittany had asked her to wear something way more important and expensive than a Cheerios jacket draped over her legs. For a minute, Santana remains still. Her teeth don't chatter anymore. Then she shuffles slightly on the bench and shifts the jacket to cover Brittany's legs, too. "Share?" she suggests and Brittany just nods.
She can almost see Santana mark another mental tally.
So far, Brittany thinks that this date is going pretty well.
It turns out that sharing the jacket is like the best idea ever because it means that Brittany and Santana have to squoosh in super close together on the bench and also that they can hide their hands under the jacket, where no one else can see them.
At first, they just hide their hands under the jacket to keep warm, but then they get to the scariest part of the hayride and things shift.
The Headless Horseman circles their wagon and strobe lights flash up from the path, illuminating both too much and too little of him all at once. Pretty soon, Santana starts to do that thing where she knots her hands together when she's nervous, and then Brittany can't help it—she reaches over to take Santana's hands in her own.
Santana stiffens at the contact, sitting straight up against the bench. She glances at Brittany's family and the other people across the aisle, suddenly more scared of them than of the Headless Horseman or anything else about the hayride.
It only takes her a half-second to realize that she has nothing to worry about, though; no one pays any attention to her and Brittany, and, even if someone were to pay attention to them, that person would need x-ray vision to actually see anything incriminating because the jacket hides her and Brittany's hands so perfectly.
Immediately, Santana relaxes, her grip turning easy against Brittany's. When she meets Brittany's eyes, she smiles like a kid who just threw a penny into a wishing fountain at the mall. Her smile lasts for a few seconds, and then she bites her lip, suddenly mindful of herself again.
Just looking at Santana causes Brittany's heart to twist in her chest, happy on the one hand that Santana seems so hopeful, but sad on the other hand because there's still some doubt written over Santana's features, like she can't fully believe that Brittany would ever want to hold her hand, or, worse yet, like Santana doesn't believe that she deserves to hold Brittany's hand at all, even if that's what they both want more than anything in the world.
Brittany rubs over the soft juncture between Santana's thumb and forefinger and feels Santana's pulse. Santana's heart beats, quick like love; Brittany's heart beats just the same.
After the hayride, Brittany's parents decide to take Brittany's sister to play in the kiddie hay maze, hoping to tucker her out before bedtime.
"You're welcome to wait with us," Brittany's mom offers Brittany and Santana.
But something else catches Brittany's eye.
Brittany tugs on Santana's jacket, gesturing to a sign a ways down the path. "Want to go moonlight apple picking?"
Brittany tries her best not to sound like she has her heart too set on the idea just in case Santana doesn't want to do it, but it's hard to hide the eagerness in her voice because moonlight apple picking seems like such an impossibly romantic thing to do on a date—and, after all, she and Santana are on a date, even if Santana doesn't realize it yet.
Santana flusters, wanting what she's not sure that she's allowed to want. "Um, sure," she stammers. "I mean, if your mom and dad say we can—"
"Just make sure to bring us back some apples," Brittany's dad interrupts.
"And don't climb any trees in the dark," Brittany's mom adds.
It turns out that moonlight apple picking is like the best idea ever because it allows Brittany and Santana to finally be alone together. Being alone together is awesome because it means that Brittany can help Santana mark a bunch more mental tallies before the end of their date.
It costs four dollars to buy both entry into the orchard and a one pound bag of apples and Brittany steps up right away to the ticket booth, holding out a five note to pay her and Santana's way.
"I could get that," Santana offers, helpless, at her shoulder.
Brittany smiles at her and shakes her head. "It's my treat," she says.
Only Santana could seem so relieved and so flustered all at once. "Thank you," Santana mumbles, watching as Brittany takes her change and tucks it safely into her wallet. The woman at the booth hands Brittany a burlap sack. She tells Brittany and Santana to have a good time. "Thank you," Santana says again, seeming more and more like she can't believe that this is actually happening to her.
While floodlights illuminate the ticket booth and the waiting area, the apple orchard itself is dark and rustic. Families with small children overran the hayride and the hay maze, but almost everyone in the apple orchard seems to be a teenager. Young voices come from shadows Brittany can't fully see, and white-green smartphone screens illuminate the blackness.
It takes Brittany and Santana a long time to orient themselves without being able to see. They walk slowly and in silence, learning the terrain under their feet and minding the branches around their ears and eyes, continuing on for several minutes until they pass by all the other couples around them, walking out to where the trees stand lonely and with unpicked fruit.
After a while, they stop at a random tree, though they can't really see either it or its neighbors clearly. Brittany pulls a branch towards her, examining its offerings with her fingers rather than with her eyes. She feels for broken skin, divots, and bruises, but finds none—just smooth, rubbery flesh. She doesn't know if the apple is green or red through the darkness.
"Britt?"
Santana stares at Brittany from underneath a shadow, standing very close to where Brittany stands. Santana isn't looking at the apple tree, just Brittany, though it's too dark for them to even see one another's eyes. Brittany hears nervousness in Santana's voice.
"Santana?" she says, releasing the branch she holds and taking a step forward.
Santana motions for Brittany to join her under the branches of the tree, standing right up against the trunk, and Brittany does so. She hears Santana wet her lips and shuffle against the grass. After what seems like a long time, Santana speaks.
"Britt, you know I love you right?" she asks, almost whispering even though she and Brittany are alone. She doesn't wait for Brittany to answer her question before she says, "Like, I mean, you know that I'm in love with you, don't you? Like, ridiculously in love with you. Like, I love you more than just best friends and I'm—I'm trying to do a better job at showing it, but, like—it's just—"
She runs out of words.
Brittany rescues her. "I know," she says softly, reaching out to touch Santana's arm and still her. "I'm in love with you, too. Like, crazy in love with you. Like, Beyoncé and Jay-Z crazy in love with you."
Brittany wants to tell Santana to relax and also that this whole night has been a date and that they're together-together now and have been all summer and maybe even since the end of their junior year, but Brittany knows she can't just spring news like that on Santana without giving Santana a heart attack.
She has to wait.
"Yeah?" Santana says. There's still that same want-to-but-can't-quite-believe-it in her voice.
"Yup," Brittany assures her. "Crazy, crazy in love," and before Santana can reply, Brittany leans forward, finding Santana's face in the dark and tilting up.
Santana seems to know what's coming. Her breath hitches and she stands on tiptoe, waiting for the kiss. Even though she and Brittany have kissed a lot and even made love a few times since school let out last year, Santana still acts surprised each time it happens, like every birthday and Christmas and mall fountain-wish she's ever made has just come true all at once.
At first, Brittany kisses Santana clumsily, pressing her lips haphazardly to Santana's cheek through the dark, but then Brittany trails her mouth over Santana's skin until she finds where she needs to be and nods into the touch. Santana's mouth opens, helpless, and Brittany tries to tell her without speaking.
I want to be with you.
I'm yours.
Whenever you're ready and not one second before.
Santana allows Brittany to kiss her, long and deep and slow, and then to peel back. Her breath feels warm against Brittany's skin, though everything else holds a chill.
"Thank you," Santana says, breathless, and Brittany watches her mark another dozen or one-hundred tallies in her mind. Then, all in a rush, Santana says, "Can we maybe go to BreadStix?"
Brittany thinks she knows what Santana means, but she decides to make sure, just in case. "I think it's closed for tonight—"
"Not now," Santana says quickly. "But, like, this week. After Halloween maybe?"
Brittany smiles like a goof. She takes Santana's hand in hers and gives it a little squeeze. "I'd really, really like that," she says earnestly.
She's pretty sure that Santana Lopez just asked her on a date.