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Santana took a deep breath as she pulled her car into the McKinley High parking lot the next morning. She checked her make-up in the rear-view mirror once more out of habit. Perfect- her mad skills with concealer and a make-up brush left no traces of the previous day's tears, the sleepless night, or the faint marks made by fingertips where someone's hand had been pressed too tightly over her mouth. She gave her image a quick nod in approval and swung open the car door. Usually she picked Brittany up on her way to school, but she'd gotten a ride with Quinn today, unsure whether Santana would be feeling better enough to come in.
Santana was late, as usual, so the lot and walkway were empty. It was for that reason only that she allowed herself to pause before the doors. She shoved a brief feeling of panic that rose up in her throat down to around the vicinity of her knees. No weakness in these halls. In this building, Santana was a queen.
She'd discovered an overwhelming resurgence of anger yesterday when she'd renewed her 'I don't give a fuck' attitude. She'd found herself becoming unreasonably angry at simple things: the way the cleaning lady had hummed under her breath as she swept the kitchen floor- when for the life of her Santana couldn't figure out what the hell she had to be so happy about, the woman made five dollars an hour scrubbing floors for other people in houses she could only dream about living in; or the way all the couples on TV seemed so god-damned perfect for each other and that there was no problem that couldn't be solved in an hour, their tinny laughter grating on her nerves like sandpaper on an open wound.
She wasn't sure she'd felt quite this angry before, but considering the last few weeks when her declaration of love and subsequent disappointment had left her feeling more sad than angry, she figured she must have just forgotten what it felt like.
With only a few minutes of first period left Santana wasted time at her locker touching up her mascara instead of going to class. The bell brought a rush of bodies into the hallway and Brittany appeared at her side.
"Hey, you're not sick anymore, right?"
"Nope, I'm all better." Santana glanced at her out of the corners of her eyes, waiting to see if Brittany's sometimes surprisingly astute observational skills would pick up anything.
"Good. I don't like it when you're not here. Yesterday I couldn't remember my locker combination and all my books were trapped inside. I'm worried they'll become clusterphobic."
Santana smiled in relief, test passed. "I think you mean claustrophobic."
"You think my books are going to be afraid of closets? Well, lockers are kind of like closets…" Brittany trailed off, deep in thought.
"Why didn't your boy toy on wheels help you? Isn't that what boyfriends are supposed to do?" The thought of Artie coming to the rescue had her feeling pissed off again.
"He doesn't know the combination either. You've always been here to know it for me."
Santana hardened herself against the guilt she felt. It was true; she'd always been there for Brittany- remembering her locker combination, her class schedule, keeping the assholes that were so quick to call the blonde 'stupid' away. But she needed to step back. She'd been painfully honest, poured her heart out in a crowded hallway, and her best friend had chosen someone else to love back.
"Yeah, well, I'm not always going to be here Brittany. Maybe it's time you had McWheelchair help you out. I don't see why I should do all the work when he's the one you chose to be with."
She grabbed her books for next period and slammed her locker door shut. Unable to stand the hurt look on Brittany's face, Santana sighed. "Look, I'll see you at lunch, okay? I have to go to class." She turned and walked away, leaving Brittany standing in the hall staring after her.
Santana refused to let her hard attitude go; even for Brittany- her soft spot for the blonde was dangerous. It was as if there was a growing scream building inside her and if she let herself go soft at all, even for a minute, she wasn't sure she would be able hold it in.
Santana did nothing productive, academically speaking, in her next few classes, but she did manage to make three people cry, so she called the morning a win. By the time lunch came around, Brittany seemed to have forgiven her for her earlier outburst and was waiting for her at their usual table.
Brittany could tell something was off about her friend. Usually by this point she'd be describing in detail all the stupid things she'd seen people doing at the party the other night- cataloging for potential blackmail, but Santana had yet to say anything about it.
"Anything good happen after I left the other night?" Brittany asked in an attempt to draw her out. "I saw you talking to that hot senior who just transferred in on my way out…What's his name again? Byron? Brendan?"
Santana couldn't help stiffening up at the mention of his name, the sound of his voice echoing in her ear, 'I heard you were the school slut, willing to open your legs for anyone. Let's see if you're as good as they say…'
"Him," she found herself saying out loud, spitting the word like acid from her tongue, letting her venomous tone hide the tremor in her voice and soothe the sick feeling in her stomach, "He's a loser. He's friends with that asshole who always wears the camouflage shirts like he's in the army or something. They're both losers. I don't understand how they got invited to that party in the first place."
Brittany squinted her eyes in Santana's direction. She still couldn't put her finger on what exactly seemed different about her today, but Santana had put her blank bitch face on and her eyes were unreadable.
"I thought they seemed kind of nice. They got me a drink when Artie was in the bathroom."
Santana whipped her head towards her, her eyes fierce. "Stay away from them Brittany. Seriously, they're assholes. If they ever try to give you a drink again you come get me and I'll tell them where they can stick it."
Brittany just nodded at Santana's tone, any response she might have had cut off by the bell.
Santana stood up from the lunch table and dumped her untouched tray into the garbage, welcoming any reason to end the conversation, and left her friend with a 'talk to you later' tossed over her shoulder as she left the cafeteria.
Brittany made her way over to where Artie had been sitting with Mercedes and Tina. Artie had gotten to the cafeteria a little later than usual and had taken one look at Santana's face before deciding to join the other Glee kids. He knew Santana and Brittany had a very close and complicated friendship and he'd been dating Brittany long enough now to know when to give them space. He smiled at Brittany and reached out to hold her hand, hoping to make her smile and erase the sad, confused look from her face.
"Hey."
"Hey, Artie," Brittany said, wheeling him from the cafeteria into the crowded hallways, "Santana said to give this to you." She handed him a small slip of paper with her locker combination written on it. "She said since you're my boyfriend you should help me remember my combination if I forget it again."
Artie looked up at her in surprise. Santana deferring help for Brittany to him? It was no secret that she wasn't a fan of their relationship and for her to give him a means to spend more time with Brittany and herself less was strange. But he definitely wasn't stupid, so he smiled up at her. "That's what boyfriends are for."
Santana opened her locker and grabbed the books she needed for the afternoon. The idea of them even talking to Brittany made her want to punch someone. She tried to distract herself by daydreaming about various scenarios in which she castrated Brendan and his friend with a dull knife, letting their screams echo in her head as her last few classes blurred into one unremarkable haze.
Glee came around quickly, which usually made her happy, but today Santana found herself grinding her teeth against the bubblegum sweetness of Rachel and Finn singing their new duet. She wanted to punch them both in the face just to make them shut up. She didn't understand what was going on. Sure, a lot of the Glee kids annoyed the hell out of her, but this was her safe place, one of the few places she let herself feel happy. All of a sudden, every positive comment and life lesson quip tossed about made her want to scream. So instead, she did what she knew best and insulted every person in the room, except Brittany. And then to top it off she picked a fight between Puck and Lauren after insinuating that Puck had been sexting her last night during the girl's wrestling match. It didn't actually make her feel any better, but at least now they had turned down the volume on their optimism. Santana had never been so relieved for Glee to be over. She ignored the glares sent in her direction and the slightly worried look on Brittany's face as she left the room.
"Jesus," Kurt said after she'd left, "I haven't heard that level of bitch in a while. What the hell is her problem?"
All eyes turned to Brittany in question, assuming she would have some insight into her best friend's behavior. Brittany shrugged, her eyes on the floor, and it was clear that she was as in the dark about Santana's attitude as the rest of them.
Brittany was well and truly worried now. She knew Santana as only a few people did and while she was always a bitch, this level of acidity was usually an indication that something bad was going down in her life. Santana didn't seem to get sad, instead she got mad—and right now she seemed pissed.