III.
Santana lazily flicked her fork, forcing the lettuce leaf to the edge of her plate. She wasn't really in the mood to eat; playing with her food seemed so much more interesting at the moment. She listened to the low hum of the other customers in the restaurant, not concentrating on any conversation in particular. A loud clatter of a fork falling onto a plate woke her from her reverie. Santana looked up at the person sitting across from her, surprised that anyone was there at all (she had forgotten that she had company).
"Sorry about that. Butter fingers," Mercedes apologized. She quickly picked up her fork, afraid that Santana would snap at her, but Santana shrugged and looked back down at her plate. Mercedes knew something was up; Santana never backed down at a chance to insult her.
"We should have won you know. The voting was probably rigged. I bet Mr. Schue threw in some of his votes. He probably wanted to make that new kid feel good about himself,"
Santana nodded half-heartedly, not really listening to what Mercedes had to say.
"We were easily the hottest ones though. Ken and Barbie think they're all so cute with their guitar-" Mercedes stopped talking once she noticed that Santana had not looked up from her plate.
"We should have won. It was all a part of the plan," Santana whispered to herself. It was her plan to win back Brittany. She'd win the tickets to Breadstix. She'd take Brittany out for dinner, and apologize for not doing a duet with her. She'd apologize the crappy week she had and everything that had lead to it. Brittany would forgive her (she always did) and tell Santana that she would leave Artie, and together they'd run into the sunset, like in the movies.
So perhaps the running off into the sunset was slightly far-fetched, but given her situation, she'd do anything Brittany said, if only she could have her back.
"Plan?" Mercedes broke Santana from her trance. Santana looked up and saw Mercedes giving Santana a quizzical look. Had she really said that aloud? Santana tried to hide her flusteration.
"Um...yeah...the plan to be the undisputed top bitches of glee club," Santana silently commended her ability to think quickly on her feet.
"Oh, right. Don't worry, I'm pretty sure the glee club knows we're the top bitches. River Deep Mountain High was perfect,"
"It was hot, wasn't it? Nice song choice by the way," If Mercedes had tried to hide her surprise at receiving a compliment from Santana, she had failed miserably. Santana Lopez isn't as bad as everyone makes her out to be, Mercedes thought to herself.
They had arrived to a comfortable silence in the conversation. Santana had finally started eating some of her salad, albeit slowly, and Mercedes took a sip of her drink.
"I wonder what Brittany and Artie would have done for a duet," Mercedes asked. Santana's head shot up at the mention of Brittany, but immediately shrank at mention of the latter's name.
"Probably some stupid rap song, and Brittany would dance around him. Why doesn't he just amputate his legs and just replace them with wheels. It'd save one of us from having to push him around everywhere," Santana spat.
"Santana, be nice," Mercedes warned.
Santana scowled and returned to her half-eaten salad.
"So...um...how are things with Brittany?" Mercedes asked as innocently as she could. She knew she was pushing the boundaries by asking, but when Santana had asked Mercedes to be her duets partner, Mercedes had asked about Brittany, but Santana snapped and said that she didn't want to talk about it.
Santana looked up to find Mercedes playing with her own food. "Fine," Santana replied curtly, not enjoying where the conversation was heading.
"You sure? You haven't talked to her in a week, and you guys are pretty much inseparable. Also, when I said her name earlier, I could hear your neck crack when you looked up so quickly," Mercedes looked directly at Santana.
Santana wished she could wipe the smug look off Mercedes face, but found that she couldn't. Everything she had said was true; there was no denying that fact.
"Look, we just had a fight, that's all,"
"What was the fight about?"
Santana hesitated. Was she really going to tell the school's biggest gossip about her and Brittany? About the butterflies she got every time Brittany touched her? About the way she could only have a good night's sleep in Brittany's arms? About how she loved hearing the way Brittany said her name, as it rolled off her tongue? About how all these feelings inside her confused her so much, that it physically pained her just thinking about them? About how all pain would disappear once Brittany was there?
"She wanted to be my duet partner," Santana revealed cautiously.
"Why weren't you her duets partner? You're her best friend and all,"
Santana wished she knew the answer. She had racked her brains every day for an answer (She had racked her heart every day too).
"We disagreed on what song to sing, I didn't like her suggestion,"
"What song did she want to sing?"
Santana paused. Melissa Ethridge's 'Come To My Window'. The night Brittany had made that suggestion, Santana had immediately YouTubed the song, and cried.
"Just one of those silly songs. You know what Brittany is like," Santana lied. She winced at her words. She knew it wasn't a silly song. Brittany was a genius, she knew what she was doing when she had offered that song. Santana was only realizing just now.
"Well, it seems like a silly thing to have a fight about. The competition is over now. Be the bigger man and just go apologize. I'm sure you'll be friends with her again come Monday," Mercedes stated simply.
Santana knew Mercedes was right.
"You love her don't you?"
Santana almost choked on her drink. She froze. No, Mercedes didn't mean that way. Surely she wasn't implying anything. Besides, Santana didn't feel that way about Brittany. She couldn't. She was a girl for crying out loud. She loved Brittany, like a best friend. That was all.
Santana couldn't help but feel like she was lying to herself. She must be just hormonal. Yes, that must be it. That was the reason why she couldn't stop thinking about Brittany. Couldn't stop thinking about how much it hurt to be apart from her. Yes, it was the hormones. Silly teenage hormones.
She took a glance at Mercedes and noticed that she was still waiting for an answer. "Of course I love her," Santana quickly said (little did she know the full extent of the meaning behind those simple words).
"Yeah, you girls will be fine. Now eat up. I said I'd shout you Breadstix, and I stick to my word," Mercedes grabbed a breadstick from the bucket and passed it to Santana, "you know, I was really worried you'd bring a wheelbarrow. That would have been just downright embarrassing," Mercedes laughed.
"I did bring one. It's in the car," Santana deadpanned, biting off a chunk of the breadstick into her mouth. She chuckled at the face Mercedes pulled and swatted her with the other end of the breadstick.
The realization that everything would work out with Brittany had lifted Santana from her mood. Also, she was finally getting her free Breadstix dinner, and she had been craving a double chocolate sundae all night.