V.
"I don't want to get out of the car Britt," Santana whines, "it's too hot!" She leans forward in her seat, allowing the cool blast from the air-conditioning to caress her face. She tugs on the collar of her shirt, directing the cool air to flow down her top. "Wow, that feels so good," Santana sighs.
"How classy of you babe," Brittany chuckles as she pulls on her own singlet and mimics the actions of her girlfriend. After a minute of cooling down their abdomens, Brittany turns the car key, causing the air-conditioning to close and Santana to glare at Brittany.
"Hey! I was using that! I was just cooling off between my tits. I can feel the sweat pooling around my underboobs," Santana's voice is muffled as she buries her head down her shirt.
"So very, very classy," Brittany says as she shakes her head (though she has to stop herself from leaning over and peering in as well). "Come on, I'm getting hungry,"
Santana lifts her head and looks out the window of the car. She raises her sunglasses and lets them rest atop her head. The harsh sunlight causes her to squint as her eyes adjust to the brightness. Outside the window, she sees the petals of flowers wilting in the summer heat, the yellowing grass dried and limp, and is the asphalt of the car park actually melting before her very eyes? Santana has never enjoyed the summer. She hates constantly feeling sticky with sweat in the humid climate. She hates rolling around in her bed to try and find the coolest spot. She hates below-par fans which just move around the hot air and she hates how her hair heats up and makes her head feel like it's on fire. She'd much prefer winter, or as she likes to call it, 'snuggle weather'.
There are some aspects of summer which Santana doesn't mind (contrary to what everyone must think, she's not all doom and gloom). Such as how the sun rays seem to compete with Brittany's golden hair to see who can shine brighter. Such as watching watermelon juice run down the curves of Brittany's chin and neck. Such as seeing every contour of Brittany's body as she splashes around in her backyard pool. Just as Santana is winter, Brittany is summer. And summer is Brittany.
As much as Santana loves how different Brittany is to her (you know, the whole 'opposites attract' sort of thing), right now Santana is willing to do anything to get Brittany to turn the car back on and drive home, where she can lounge in front of the TV, the air-conditioning on full blast, and dig into a tub of ice-cream. Santana is pulled from her thoughts as she feels an arm tugging on her own.
"Come on, we'll run through the heat. Breadstix has good air-conditioning. We'll be cooling down in no time,"
"Run through the heat? I'll be a puddle on the floor after three steps. Then you're going to have to scoop me up off the floor, and carry me around in a bottle,"
"I can't carry you around in a bottle silly," Brittany says, her tone serious, "I might accidentally drink you up. I'll carry you around in a vial and hang you off a necklace. Off the same necklace where I keep a vial of your saliva,"
Santana's eyes widen and stare at Brittany. She's speechless and slightly worried that Brittany came up with a joke (it is a joke, right?) so horrendous. "That's so creepy Brittany. I'd only imagine Berry doing that with Finn's saliva,"
Brittany seems to contemplate this as she looks up out of the corner of her eyes, but stops and opens the door of the car, letting the remainder of the cool air out, and the hot air floods the car. "Let's go. We can get a sundae," she says as she hops out of the car.
Santana perks at the mention of a possible sundae, and begrudgingly follows Brittany into Breadstix. She visibly relaxes once she finds refuge in the cool interior of the restaurant. The pair head towards their usual booth where they are met with Jill and her usual menus, bucket of breadsticks and friendly smile (which Santana would like to believe is only reserved for them). They thank Jill and Santana immediately reaches for a breadstick, savoring its taste and the crunching noises in her mouth. Brittany grabs her attention by nudging her knee.
"I can't believe you're leaving tomorrow,"
An overwhelming feeling of sadness and nerves hit Santana. She can't believe it either. Tomorrow she'll be leaving for New York. She had been putting off leaving all summer. Perhaps it was because she had become complacent with the convenience that Lima offered. Perhaps she was still unsure of what she wanted for her future. Perhaps she was just afraid. Whatever the reason, Santana found herself still in Lima, as she attended numerous farewell parties, waved at numerous cars packed to the brim with boxes full of belongings and shed too many tears (she had not planned on that at all).
As lost and confused Santana felt during the summer, she did not regret one second of it. She had stayed for only one person, and she was sitting across from her right now. Santana was only leaving now because Brittany was returning to McKinley again in two weeks time, and Brittany had pushed her to go to New York and follow her dreams (but were they really her dreams? The more Santana thought about it, the more she was unsure of the answer). She had stayed in Ohio the whole summer, and spent every moment possible with the girl she loved; what was there to regret?
"I can't believe it either. But I'm really not sure anymore Britt. What if I stayed for another year? What if I just worked a little bit, get some experience up my sleeve before...I'm sure Breadstix will hire me. I know the menu like the back of my hand..." Santana had started rambling, and only stopped when Brittany placed her hand lightly on top of Santana's.
"Stop it," Brittany says firmly but gently, "you're ready Santana. I'm not going to lie to you, it'll be hard, there's no doubt about it. But we're talking about you Santana. My brave, brave Santana," Santana melts under Brittany's smile and gives Brittany a shy smile back.
"Perhaps I should have gone to Louisville. I feel like that scholarship you got me was all a waste of your time−"
"No Santana. The scholarship was always going to be a backup option. Plan B. It wasn't a waste of time at all, trust me," Brittany says immediately. There's a hint of frustration in her voice as if she's tired from having to repeat the same thing all summer. "Look, let's not talk about this right now. I've only got a few hours left with you. I want to make the most of it,"
Santana nods in agreement and opens up her menu. "I don't think I should eat too much. I think Mom's making a feast for dinner tonight. I think she's afraid I won't be able to feed myself, and she needs to fatten me up to store energy or something," as she says this, Jill arrives.
"Ready to order?"
"Actually Jill, could you give us a min−" Santana stops mid-sentence when she feels something pushing on her menu, forcing it shut.
"Jill, can we get two kid's meals? Chicken nuggets, thanks," Brittany takes the two menus and hands them over to Jill. Santana smiles at Brittany.
"Where would I be without you?" Santana says as she takes Brittany's hands in her own.
"Sitting in the car and cooling off your tits," Brittany deadpans. Santana has to hold onto her sides as she bursts into laughter (the hardest she's laughed all summer) and she's wiping the tears out of her eyes so she can garner a clearer look at the person sitting across from her. She soaks in every strand of Brittany's hair, loose and falling about her shoulders. She counts every freckle on her face, and notices new ones from the summer. She looks to Brittany's lips, slightly dry and chapped, but the corners are slightly raised into a comfortable smile. She notices Brittany's eyelashes, a lighter colour than her hair. Finally she looks to her eyes, hidden behind eyelashes, burning brightly. "You're staring again Santana," Brittany says quietly.
Even though Santana knows she should be embarrassed about getting caught, she's heard Brittany repeat those words all summer, and it's lost nearly all its effect. "I'm just really going to miss you," Santana says. How much longer does she have until she can only see Brittany's face projected through a computer screen? Though she knows she's being silly (it's not like she'll never have the chance to see Brittany again), Santana can't help but feel it necessary to take in all of Brittany.
"I'm going to miss you too," Brittany says in reply. She leans over to give Santana a kiss, but Jill arrives with their food, and she has to settle with kissing the back of Santana's hand instead. Santana brings her hand up to her face and presses it lightly against her mouth.
"Wow, I haven't had chicken nuggets in years," Santana says as she looks down at her plate. She grabs her fork and doesn't hesitate in stabbing her fork into the nearest one. She places the whole nugget into her mouth and instantly sinks into her seat. "These are so good! Why haven't we always eaten chicken nuggets? Promise me we'll have a constant supply of these in the future,"
Brittany pauses before speaking. "Like at our house?"
"Well, yeah. When we get a house together,"
Brittany smiles as if that's the answer she was expecting. "I guess we'll have to hide them. We don't want our kids to eat them all; there won't be any left for us. Plus they're unhealthy for little kids. It's all about good parenting, right?"
Santana instantly shies. "Kids?"
"Yep. One boy and one girl," Brittany states, but immediately stops, "only if you want though,"
"I wouldn't have wanted it any different," Santana says as she sits up in her seat and kisses Brittany.
They continue to eat their kid's meals, as they talk about the summer that they've had and they finish their meal quite quickly (Santana realizes why they're called kid's meals. Her stomach isn't close to being satisfied).
"I think I have to go soon. I've got to get ready for dinner. The family is coming over, and Mom will freak when she finds out that I still haven't washed the windows. I really don't know why she's wants me to clean them. It's not like we're eating off them. It's like I'm her personal slave,"
"What about Cinderella? You get a fairy godmother and a pretty dress,"
"And a happily ever after?"
"Of course," the two girls smile at each other (they both reckon they've reached their happily ever afters).
"You should come to dinner Britt,"
"No, no. It's important family-bonding-time, I don't want to interrupt that,"
"You won't be interrupting anything. It'll just be a lot of old ladies talking about my weight or something,"
Brittany laughs as she goes to the counter and pays for the meal. Santana follows reluctantly, still wishing that Brittany would attend the dinner party her mom is holding. She opens the door, and a strong blast of hot air hits her, burning into her skin. She can feel her skin tingle as she starts to sweat already. "Oh you have got to be kidding me. Why is it still so hot?" Santana complains.
"Hey, can you make sure your window is open tonight?"
Santana pauses from opening the car door. "My window is always open for fresh air in this sort of weather,"
"Good," Brittany says as she opens her own car door.
"Can I ask why you suddenly want to make sure that I keep my window open?"
"Let's just say the weather ain't the only thing that's going melt you into a puddle,"
Santana is quite sure the sun isn't the reason why her face is burning up as her cheeks blush.