Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or its characters, etc.
Okay, guys, this is what you get when I can't sleep. That's right, another chapter (and for the cheap price of $19.99, we'll throw in extra words too so it's longer)! By the way, I've decided to make this story a bit longer (like maybe 3-5 chapters). If anyone has a problem with that (for some odd, mysterious reason) let me know. Sorry the last chapter was such a downer! It gets better! :)
They all had weird accents and it was driving her freakin' crazy! The low, Southern drawl made her Midwest twang sound even more 'nasely'. And everyone in the small school stared at her today because she was new. They tried to be friendly but for the sake of preservation, Santana glared at everyone and everything. She even thinks she glared at a plant at one point.
Needless to say, they left her alone. That was great because it meant she could wallow in her self-pity and wish Brittany was here to help her make fun of all the dorks in this place. The thought of Brittany sends her stomach into unease because it's been two days and they haven't talked. Santana doesn't know what's going on but obviously the letter upset Brittany. What if they never talk again? What if Brittany is disgusted and repulsed by her?
What would she do without the one person who makes her life so much better?
Santana's back home now and decides that she's had enough of a bad day without rehashing it all in her head like she's just been doing. "It's time to get my snacking on." She walks to the kitchen and turns on some music. As she grabs the cookie container, her cell phone buzzes.
She freezes. What if it's Brittany? What will she say? Is this one of those times when your world can change simply because of a phone call? The phone continues to ring as she stares at it apprehensively.
She rushes over to the phone on the table at the last minute and practically falls flat on her face in an attempt to reach it in time when she trips over an unpacked box of kitchen utensils. Her cookies go flying into Never-Never Land and Santana wants to sit down and just give up on life at this point. Can she not even have the comfort of cookies today?
"Hello?"
"Hey, Santana! How's my favorite lesbian doing?" He whispers the word lesbian so low that she can barely hear it over the chatter in the background, but she gets the gist.
"Kurt, if you ever call me that again I will kick your sorry, puny ass all the way from over here." Kurt was the only one in Glee club who knew, because he came across Santana ogling Brittany one day and confronted her about it later. Santana, believe it or not, was an awful liar but Kurt promised to keep her secret. He knew what it was like to be scared and in the closet.
"Right. Sorry. Anyway, we're in Glee club right now and everyone was just wondering how you were doing and Blaine got up the bright idea to call you." The background noise from Kurt's end suddenly gets quiet as everyone in Glee Club starts to listen in on their conversation.
"I'm fine, thanks. How's Brittany? Is she there?"
"You haven't talked to her?"
"Umm... well, I've been really busy and all."
She hears him hesitate on the other end, obviously not believing her lie. "She's here, yeah. Man, it sounds quiet over there!"
Santana frowns and stares at the phone in her hand like maybe Kurt's lost it.
"What the hell are you talking about? I know you can hear the music playing in the background here."
"Yep. Really quiet, huh? It'll get better though, Santana. Everything takes time."
A light bulb goes off in her head. The others are listening and Kurt's using some freaky, nerdy code language to alert her that Brittany's been really quiet lately. A quiet Brittany is not good. Not good at all.
"Thanks for letting me know, Kurt. Tell Britt-Britt I said hi, okay? Look after her for me."
"No problem, Santana. Keep in touch!"
"You know it. You're all going to miss my kick-butt singing soon."
"Yep! Bye."
Santana hangs up the phone and sighs. It wasn't Brittany. Brittany still hadn't called her. The rejection stings because this time it's real. She's always wondered what it would be like if Brittany would reject her and now she knows. Unfortunately, it hurts a lot more than she thought it would.
She sighs and puts down her phone with a grimace, looking a little lost without her best friend to comfort her like she normally does when something bad has happened. She wants to cry but she reminds herself that crying isn't going to get her anywhere. "Now, where are my frickin' cookies?"
For the hundredth time that day, Brittany takes out the letter and reads it over. The joy it gives her is amazing, but it's equaled by a burden of sadness and hopelessness. Mostly, though, she's angry.
That's why she hasn't called Santana, either, because she's so angry at her. Why didn't Santana tell her sooner? They could have spent the past year dating and in love. Instead, Brittany spent the last year wondering whether Santana was ever going to love her back and fighting jealousy every time some boy-with-a-suicide-wish asked Santana out. She wanted to shout at them: She. is. Mine. Even if Santana didn't realize it, she's always been Brittany's. Brittany gets her. She understands how Santana clicks, and Santana's right: they do have a soul connection in that from the moment they met they could communicate without words and understand exactly what the other person was feeling or thinking.
She's always known little aspects of Santana that no one else has ever noticed. Like, that Santana's favorite food is cookies with peanut butter. Or, that Santana's secret dream isn't to become a lawyer or a doctor or anything like that, but a child psychologist. Or that, the thing that most annoys Santana is when someone else doesn't try their best.
She can practically read Santana's mind and tell you what she's thinking at that moment just by her body language and facial expression because they've known each other for so long. So, even if she doesn't own Santana, she should.
But it's too late.
What's the point of dating now when the love of her life doesn't even live nearby? She needs to see her and smell her and touch her. She can't do that if Santana's somewhere wandering around the South. Or was it the West? Either way, it was somewhere that involved the ocean and gay sharks. That, Brittany was sure of.
Anyway, right after she read the letter, she was tempted to call Santana and demand her dad stop driving them to a new home in a new place, far away from Brittany. Brittany was going to tell Stana that she loves her, but she got scared and chickened out because she knows Santana's in the closet and she can't just profess her love for Santana in front of Santana's parents. That would be awkward. That's a weird word... awkward. awk-ward. aw-k-ward. awkward...
"BRITTANY!" Rachel's glaring at her from a few seats away.
"Huh?"
"Pay attention, already, will you?"
"Sorry, I was thinking."
Everyone in Glee Club turns to look at her weirdly. What, do they really think she can't think? Just because she said a ballad was a male duck last week doesn't mean she's stupid. It just means she likes ducks, that's all.
"Anyway..." Rachel goes on about her ideas for sectionals (which, of course, involve mainly solos for her), now confident that she has everyone's undying attention.
Brittany looks around cautiously and, when she's sure no one's watching her, she pulls out the letter she wrote as a response to Santana, wondering if she should just send it. Kurt helped her with the grammar and spelling so it didn't sound too bad...
Dear Santana,
Your letter made me cry, but in a good way. I'm a little mad at you right now, though. Why didn't you tell me earlier? Because, San, I love you too. I always have but I've been too scared to say anything either, so I guess it's my fault too. It's just, I was worried that you would reject me too. No one's ever really been my friend before, except for you. They all think I'm too dumb. Except for you.
This isn't going to be as nice as your letter, but here's the reasons I love you:
You make me laugh.
You don't make fun of me.
You understand me.
You like Mr. Tubbington.
You shared a box of candy with me that one time at the movie theater even though I knew you hated that type of candy.
You smile when I show you my drawings of penguins and armadillos pooping rainbows. And you act like they're the best artwork ever, even though I know they're not, because I asked a professional artist at McKinley College. He said I wasn't very good.
You love me.
You're so, so beautiful. And you have an amazing body... Sorry, Kurt. (He wrote this for me, by the way, I hope you're not mad. I asked him to fix all my uh... grandma issues? Oh, Kurt says it's 'grammar' issues. Whatever). But, you're hot.
You're my best friend and you always will be.
That's why I love you. I wouldn't want to spend the rest of my days with anyone but you, San. You make every day happier, like rainbowy, and it makes my life so much better. I just wish that you hadn't moved, because now I'm not so sure this can work out. But, I still love you.
Love, your Brittany
P.S. This is Kurt. Brittany was crying at the end of this, Santana. You better swallow your pride and call her before the rest of Glee Club badgers you into doing it.