Alright guys, I made this one longer than usual juuust for you. Hopefully I'll see a few more reviews. Hint hint.

Disclaimer: Ze same.

REVIEWERS:

squintsquad03: Yeah suicides not fun...especially with Sylvester. Drama is definately ramping up my friend.

StraightShark: Good to know I stayed fierce without knowing I'm being fierce...schweet.

READ, REVIEW, and ENJOY

Game Day

Brittany's POV

It's game day. We've all got our jerseys on. Coach wants us to wear them every game day with our hair done the same way with the same red headband. If not, there will be serious consequences. Apparently it makes us look intimidating. Santana and I check each other's high ponytails for lose hairs and straighten our red headbands. Santana's number 13 and I'm 1. Quinn is 15. We modeled our numbers after favorite players on this years US National team. Santana's an Alex Morgan fan ever since her World Cup rookie debut. I of course love Hope Solo. Plus she's like gorgeous. And Quinn's a Megan Rapinoe fan. She has like…amazing hair. She does assist the great Abby Wombach. But as Santana now says, "Wombach's overrated, all she can do is head the ball, Morgan's the rising star." I just shrug and let her have her reasons. I just think she likes to be thought of as unlucky to anyone in her path, the number just happened to be shared by Morgan who scored a bunch as a rookie during the World Cup. But that's just a theory based on my knowledge of my best friend.

We walk into school, excited for the big game. Scouts are coming today. This could mean college. Obviously, everyone's told to make the three of us look good. Santana takes my pinky in hers and we walk down the hall to our locker. Puck's there and waiting.

"Big game to day, Santana. Better not screw up." He teases. "If it were me, I'd wow them all." He flexes his muscles and I resist the urge to roll my eyes. He leans in for a kiss and Santana pushes him away.

"Not on game day, Puckerman. I needz to concentrate." He pouts and leans against the locker. "What's with you and trying out for glee club at lunch?"

I open my locker and ignore his presence. " Well, Q told us how good it looked and hey, having us there would make you guys less vulnerable for slushies. If the captains of both soccer teams are there, there's no one to order slushies to be thrown. Just protecting you babe." He gives her a cocky smile. "I just want a little payment in return. Maybe a little celebration after the big game." He says suggestively as he pulls her close and traps her between him and the locker. She smirks at him.

"Maybe. But I can't think about that right now. I've got a game to focus on." My heart drops at that maybe. Ugh her and Puck getting it on. Eww. She pushes him off her locker and grabs her books. He grabs her ass as she walks away and she glares back at him.

It's lunch time and we're sitting at our usual clique table. Quinn's going on and on about Finn and their date last night. Santana and I attempt to act interested as we play a game of footsies under the table.

"And that's why I'm breaking up with him." Our heads both snap up. "He just isn't serious about our future or appreciates how much I think about mine."

"Q…is that really grounds for break-up?" I ask. "I mean he is a guy. They don't really think about that stuff. You could always be Lebanese if you want that in a partner." Quinn looks put off and is looking at me funny.

Santana snorts, "B, Lesbian."

I blush, "Oh. Sorry. Tongue slipped."

"I can think of a few places where I'd like that tongue to slip." Puck's voice sounds from the edge of the table. They're back from tryouts.

"Puck." Santana growls and hits him in the chest.

"Baby, I know you like it rough just not here." He teases her more and she shoots him a don't mess with me glare. "Plus, I was going to say, that Brittany's tongue could slip into your mouth. Like last party." He smirks and Santana loses it. She immediately starts speaking rapid spanish cussing him out and stomps out of the cafeteria.

I shoot a glare at Puck and follow her. "Something I said?" He calls out. "Ow." That would be Quinn hitting him on his mohawk covered head.

"San," I see her by our lockers, rummaging through hers angrily and muttering to herself. She looks up and then goes back to her locker, shoving books around. I pull her arms away from the locker. "San…hun, calm down." I grab her hands and caress them softly. She relaxes a bit and I let go, not wanting to anger her anymore. "San…don't let him get to you. He just likes teasing you and making crude jokes."

She looks at me, "I wasn't so much worried about me. It was that he had the fucking balls to go after you." She growls and I softly touch her cheek.

"Hey…I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself alright? We had this babying talk last night."

"I'm sorry, Britt, I can't help it. I'll always want to protect you." She looks into my eyes and I look back. She suddenly realizes the position that we're in and pulls away. "Puck's an asshole."

"Then why be with him?" I ask curiously. I don't get why they're always together. They always hurt one another.

"We're popular, I need to stay on top. You wouldn't understand, Britt." That's when my temper flares.

"I'm freaking sick and tired of people telling me I don't understand, Santana." I slam my hand against the wall of lockers. "I hear that way too much every day. I'm not some dumb jock like Finn, alright?"

"Hey, hey…" She grabs my shoulders. "I didn't mean it like that, Britt. I'm sorry. I know your smart. Your grades are good and you're gonna graduate this year. I just meant that you don't have to worry about this stuff."

I look at her confused, "If I don't then why do you?"

"Because I'm doing it for the both of us. So you'll never have to deal with it." She pulls me into a hug. "I'm doing this for us. So you can be happy and not forced to be with someone your not truly in love with. Puck can be good and sweet sometimes, but other times he steps over the line. We're together for sex and status. That's it, ok?" She presses a kiss of my head and lets go.

I sigh, "Alright. Thank you, San. I don't think I do it enough. But you don't always have to be the martyr. Talk to me about it, I can help ok?" She nods and we hear the bell ring. "So much for focusing on the game, huh?" She chuckles and we link pinkies, heading off to our next class.

We're currently in the locker room. Suiting up for the big game. Shue lets us skip glee club on game days. Santana and Quinn are giving each other orders and psyching themselves up. I've got my headphones in and I go over my movements to the beat. Almost like my very own goalie dance. I bob my head as I sling my bag over my shoulder, tucking my ipod into it. I look at the other two and they've both got smirks on their faces. We're gonna crush Crawford.

We run out onto the field and get into warm ups and stretching. Coach gives us her usual "don't screw up or I'll shave all your heads and make the ladies down in the sweat shop crochet it into a banner that says LOSERS" speech. Believe me, I'm all too fond of my hair to screw this up.

I get into goal. The team takes their usual warm up penalty shots to get me moving. I manage to block and catch all but Santana's. San smirks and winks at me as I toss the ball back to her. Our warm ups continue until the coin toss. We shake hands with Crawford's captains and put on our best fake smiles.

We won the toss and chose possession because it's a cloudy day and I could care less if I'm on either side. We jog back into our huddle, psyching ourselves up and cheering "Titans."

I take a deep breath and walk to my goal. Taking my time to gather myself. My stomach is always in knots until the whistle blows and the game starts. I flex my glove covered hands and bounce on the balls of my feet. I tap the goal posts repeatedly. It's a little superstitious ritual I have.

The whistle blows and Jamie our center forward passes to Erica our left forward. She kicks it back to Quinn who boots it up to Santana. Santana's bolting up the right side of the field with defenders on her as she fights to get to the ball first. She traps and secures it before taking off towards the goal. Quinn's beside her in the center and calls out to her. Santana kicks it back and sprints forward. Quinn chips it quickly to the right corner of the goal and Santana gets a head on it. The ball hits the back of the net and the whistle blows. Quinn congratulates Santana who's got her cocky grin in place. She looks at me while they talk and jog back to the kick off. She gives me a wink and the kick off sets up again.

It's the last few minutes of the 4th quarter. We're up 5-1. They've been hammering me. As much as I love this team, our defense is severely lacking. I'm all alone out here. I wipe the sweat from my eyes and scan the field pointing out open girls to my middies and defenders. I call out instructions for who's open to help out the offense. A goalie's job is never done.

The ball's stolen from one of the middies. I couldn't tell who in the fight for the ball. The Crawford girl surges forward with the ball, evading our mid field and going head to head with our defense. No one on her team is near her. She fakes out her defender and goes straight to me. I see my opening. Her dribble isn't tight. I throw myself in front of her onto the ball just as she winds up. She kicks the ball mostly and catches my elbow. She topples over me and I get up with the ball. I hear her yelling at the refs to call tripping on me. That was a bone fide save, dude. Nothing illegal about it. I quickly punt it to one of the middies.

I turn to see where the Crawford girl is and she comes at me. I'm tackled to the ground. The whistle blows signaling end of game as I try to wrestle her off of me. "Stupid bitch, should've called you for that. Fucking hurt. I'll teach you-" Hands yank her off of me and Spanish curses are thrown out at her. I see Santana bitching her out and the refs showing up. Santana huffs as the girl is escorted away from us.

"You alright, Britt-Britt?" She asks, looking concerned as I stand up.

"Yeah, I'm fine. She came out of no where, San. Just popped up like a gopher and tackled me."

"Not surprised, that's Sarah Bruger. She's their head bitch and all around bully. She was suspended last year for punching someone in the face." She chuckles and wraps an arm around me. Quinn jogs over.

"You alright, B?"

"Yeah, I'm fine Q. San stepped in before it got too out of hand." Quinn nods.

"Are we going out to Breadstix per usual?" It's our after game ritual. Started back when we were in middle school. Puck, Finn, and Sam would join us and our parents at Breadstix after game nights.

"Hell yeah." Santana practically shouts. It's cute how worked up she gets over carbs.

"Alright, I'll just grab the boys and we'll go."

"You gonna be alright with Sam there, Britt?" Santana asks once Quinn jogs away.

I nod, "Yeah, we're friends still. He's a nice guy. He's just not for me."

"Alright, but I'll take you home the second you want to, ok?" She's so caring and protective.

I nod again smiling, "Ok, San." And with that we head to Breadstix to celebrate our victory.