When Kurt descends the majestic Dalton staircase, he almost tumbles down when he sees who's waiting for him underneath the staircase.
"Holy sh-"
"… and then I went BOOM!" Brittany jumps off her bed. Artie applauds her. But Brittany stops him. "I'm not done yet!" she says excitedly. She picks up Lord Tubbington and places him in Artie's lap.
"So I told the Lord to stop smoking for good. He looked at me with wide pleading eyes, saying that tuna fish is his destiny. But I don't agree. I force him to try salmon instead, because my salmon company has grown a lot. I do it because I love him, despite the fact that it's not his dream. We live possibly happily ever after. The end."
She takes a bow and Artie, who's clearly confused, claps once again.
Brittany takes Lord Tubbington in her arms and waits for further reaction. She knows it's not the best story she's ever told anyone, but she can't dance her frustrations away with Artie, so she tells them.
Sort of.
She's anxiously waiting for feedback. When he doesn't get it, she starts asking the questions. "Did you think I'm a good pet owner?"
"I guess."
"Despite the fact that I completely denied Lord Tubbington's wish?"
"Well, as his mom, you know what's good for him."
"You're surrounded by preppies, you know that right?" Santana says. When she looks around, she sees boys wearing matching uniforms everywhere. It is kind of wacky. She also sees boys watching her. They're not used to girls on campus, and especially not to girls wearing cheerleader outfits.
Santana used to like the attention she got from boys. Sometimes, she even twirled around, knowing that her skirt would go up a little bit. She would smile and wink at the boys gaping at her (except at the sexist, disrespectful ones. She'd flip them off) and she loved it.
Now, the thought of boys was a bit of a no go.
Maybe in a future where she'd be more confident about it, she'd tell the guys to back off because she's gay. If she's gay. She's still not sure about that.
One of Kurt's prep friends brings them coffee. "So, I managed to get you guys these, and I told the teachers around here that you'd be done in an hour," he says, "Normally, girls aren't allowed, but the fact that Kurt is gay plays a role, I think."
Again, if she were more confident, she'd tell the teachers she's gay too. Or at least not straight.
"Thanks Blaine."
"Anytime."
When he leaves the room, Santana immediately asks: "He doesn't know?"
"What?"
"You haven't told him I'm…"
Kurt seems surprised. "Of course not," he says as if it's obvious, "Why would I? Only when you're ready to tell the world, I will tell him with your permission."
Santana never realised Kurt took her problems so seriously. Maybe she has underappreciated him too much.
"But you came here, and you looked alarmed," and then Kurt smiles, "which is kind of amusing."
"Fuck you."
"Thanks."
Yes, Santana has really underappreciated him.
"We unfortunately only have an hour, so spill. I can't help you with nothing," he takes a sip of his coffee and he watches her intently.
"Artie wheeled to me, saying that Brittany is sad. He doesn't know why."
"So?"
"Neither do I." That gets Kurt's attention. He might not be a McKinley kid anymore, but he knows that Brittany and Santana are still very close. And Quinn. Quinn is there too.
"Satan, first thing first, have you talked to Brittany about this?"
"No, but-"
"There!" he cuts her off, "I'm going to tell you something that might shock you. It is okay to talk about your problems."
"Why the fuck do you think I'm here?" Santana bites, "I'm here to talk about my problems with you."
"I thought we were discussing Britt's problem, not yours."
"The girl I love is incredibly sad, that makes it my problem!"
That wasn't meant to come out like that. Santana hides her face in her hands. "I can't believe I just said that out loud."
But when she looks up, Kurt's looking at her with fondness. "A confession of love," he sighs, "Never expected that from you. You're not the cold hearted bitch I thought you were."
"Yeah, and you're more of a bitch than I expected you to be," Santana retorts.
"Harsh words."
But it's true. Kurt seems more confident here at Dalton. He dares himself to do more, to be more outrageous. Here he can snap back with witty retorts without being afraid someone might hit him for it.
He was never like this at McKinley. Sometimes in the choir room, he could be confident like this, but Santana hasn't seen him like this in ages.
She's already the bitch at McKinley, but what would happen is she leaves that place? Will she leave because she wants to, or will she be forced to leave when people find out too? And where will she go then? She knows that Dalton has a sister school called Dobry or Crawford, but she's not made for the preppy lifestyle.
"Santana, try to talk to Brittany. It's a start."
"Brittany, dearest? Santana is here to see you!" Whitney says. When she sees that Artie has left, she smiles. Brittany tries not to roll her eyes. She knows her mother doesn't understand why she's with someone in a wheelchair. Only after Brittany told her that Artie's also on the team, she warmed up to the idea.
Yet, it is not ideal.
Then how will she react to me dating a girl?
Brittany stops herself.
Her mother is waiting for Brittany to follow her downstairs, but suddenly seeing Santana doesn't sound appealing at all. She doesn't want Santana to be a burden to her, but ever since Brittany grabbed her hands and danced with her, she is. Something changed at that moment. Ever since that day she's dreamt of that smile. Especially with life getting difficult, Brittany needs that smile. She needs the reminder that Santana is there. Santana will always be there, and that makes everything more bearable.
And Brittany likes Artie a lot. She likes kissing him, and holding him, and when he allows it, making love with him, but she doesn't dream about his smile. She's not pretending to like him – she really does – but she won't pretend to love him – she never will.
As expected, Santana is waiting for her in the hallway. She's still wearing her Cheerios uniform, despite the fact that school has ended hours ago.
"Santana?" Brittany says, and she tries not to focus on the odd feeling she's feeling, "What are you doing here? Are you okay?"
Santana nods towards Brittany's mother. It must be private.
They quickly excuse themselves and go upstairs. Lord Tubington is still eating the tuna she gave him after Artie left. Santana has a serious look on her face, and Santana doesn't do serious. At least, that's what Santana keeps telling her.
"Are you okay?" Brittany asks again.
Santana crosses her arms. "I could ask you the same thing."
"… what?"
"Britts, you have been shutting yourself down for weeks now. I seriously had Wheels approaching me because he's worried. It is not cool to let your… your… boyfriend hanging like that."
Brittany doesn't know what to say. Artie knows? Then why does Brittany think he isn't paying attention? "Artie doesn't understand," she says, "and neither do you."
Santana groans in frustration and she grabs Brittany by her shoulders. "… Brittany, please, don't be like this. Then make him understand. Make me understand."
How will Santana understand? Or Artie? They don't have parents like hers. They don't have a brilliant prodigy or a sister. They don't have to win the game. If Artie loses at Nationals, his parents would still love him. If Santana loses a Cheerio match, despite the fact that she is head Cheerio, her mother will not think she is a huge disappointment to the family. Sure, coach Sylvester might be mad, but Santana can take her. And coach Sylvester isn't her mother.
And then there's Santana, and whatever Brittany is feeling right now. Will Santana understand that? Brittany doesn't even understand what is happening to her.
"Please Britts, I-" Santana falls silent.
I what? Brittany wants to say.
"I care about you, Britts," Santana says, but it's strained, "And I can't stand seeing you like this. Please at least try to understand."
And suddenly Brittany has an idea. Maybe this will make Santana understand.
"Brittany…"
And Brittany leans in to kiss her.
Little shout out to Dalton by CP Coulter, because I can.