Sandwich Girl Chapter 2, a glee fanfic

Title: Sandwich Girl

Summary: For the past two years, I've been receiving advanced calls for lunch orders from a registered name, Jennifer Lopez, or J Lo for short. Not once has she missed a day, so the one week she continually does, something doesn't feel right.

Rating: T

Pairing: Brittany/Santana

Genre: Romance/Crime/Mystery

I've never ran so fast in my entire life, dashing out of the office, and ignoring the people around me as I got out of the hospital and headed towards my apartment building. Santana's cry and weep still ring in my ears as I huff and puff out air, having not exerted this much effort in running for years.

I briefly wave to my doorman as I rush up the stairs, forgetting all about the elevator and slamming the keys into the keyhole as I go in and head to my bedroom immediately.

Sharing a large apartment floor with my sister, I am thankful she isn't here at the moment because of her classes. I grab the charging wire from my desk and plug it in J Lo's phone.

I groan when I realize it's probably going to take a few minutes before the phone turns back on as I hastily pace around my room waiting for the screen to blink on.

Time could not go any slower.

I'm startled by a ringing noise, causing me to quickly rush towards the source and sigh when I realize it was actually coming from my own phone.

Mom.

I slide it open and answer, slightly out of breath. "Mom?"

"Hello sweetie! Just calling to check on you."

Glancing back at the dead phone on my desk, I sigh and decide to talk to my mom to pass the time and distract myself from freaking out on the dire situation. "Well, how are you?"

"Your dad and I are doing great, thank you! How about you and Katie?"

I smile weakly and duck my head down. "She's great, she's at class right now, I'll tell her you called."

"Okay, but you only half-answered my question." My mom replies sweetly. I pout and make a noise of recognition.

"I'm fine." I say, shoulders slumping when I realized how not fine I actually am; Santana's cry still stuck inside my head. "Just dandy.

"Doesn't sound like you are."

A white flash catches my eye and as soon as I see the black apple logo, I feel my throat tighten up. "Ma-ma—" I stop her before she can say anything else. "Something's burning."

"Brittany! Did you leave the stove on again? Sweetie we can't let what happen to the old apartment—"

I blush, clenching my eyes shut for a second. "Bye mom, I love you!"

Throwing my phone to the direction of my bed, I sit down on the carpet floor and let out a big exhale upon seeing the familiar image of J Lo—Santana, with her younger version self whom I assume is her sister. I wait for a call, but nothing comes. I try to slide the device open but again, there's a passcode.

"Fuck." I curse, which is rare since I'm super stressed out right now.

Who knows what could be happening to her? And I don't know how I got into this position, but I know I can do something to help her. Anything.

I wait, and wait, changing my sitting position from time to time as I continue to stare at the phone with that radiant smile on the screen.

By the time it reaches 8pm, I'm half-asleep but still trying my best to be alert when a ring comes.

The whole night, it doesn't.

The next day I take a bath, brush my teeth, put my clothes on with the phone at eye-and-arm's length. I eat my breakfast with the phone right in front of me; it's black screen haunting me as I wait for it to ring with the number J Lo used to contact her own phone.

Then I wonder if maybe this is all a prank, and she's doing this to me since I got her the last time. Things like this don't happen to normal people like me, only to crazy ones like Quinn maybe, but not me. I'm a good girl, so why am I in this situation?

I now think of the time Quinn told me that knowing a girl like J Lo, she probably has something up her sleeve and this could be it.

But deep down, I know it's not.

I walk to Breadstix with J Lo's phone tucked inside my bra, by my right breast. With this, the phone is safe, I won't lose it, and when it rings, I'll know as soon as possible. I know it's unsafe because of radiation, but right now is not the time to think of breast cancer—

Or is it?

"Morning guys." I greet the early waiters and waitresses as I enter the store with slouched shoulders. I see our hostess, Rachel, waving at me before she skips to the front of the restaurant. She's new by 2 months and from what I heard from Quinn, she's an aspiring actress like every hostess in this city.

I put on my apron, lock my bag safely on the locker beneathed my beloved register and lean forward on my open palms, the weight of the phone by my breast causing me to sweat profusely.

"Are you still sick?" Quinn asks me as I eye her movements. "You look even worse than yesterday."

I open my mouth about to tell her the situation, but decide against it, only thinking it would be such a drama to be thinking about during work and that I shouldn't hassle more people than I should. But maybe it would be better to ask for help from others because unfortunately, I can't do this alone and I also might need a hacker to help me get passed the passcode in this phone, get the number J Lo used to contact me and track her down—if she really is in deep trouble.

"Q, do you know anyone perhaps that's good with computers?" I ask her, watching as she fixes her apron around the waist and fiddles with the 2 pens she always carries around with her. She turns to me with furrowed eyebrows. "Um, isn't Katie a computer engineering major?"

I nearly slap myself on the face upon hearing her words. Sometimes I really can be a blonde. I don't even know why I didn't think of that.

"And aren't you good with computers, Ms. App-Famous?"

I shake my head, nibbling on the nail of my thumb that Quinn glares at in disapproval. It was a nervous habit of mine since I was a kid. "I only designed Kiki, I didn't do all the techy stuff."

"Huh." She hums, tapping her chin. "Maybe I should create an app too so I wouldn't be in this dinner all day!"

"Shh, don't want the boss hearing that." Mike cuts in with a laugh, walking away to continue doing his job.

"I feel like we gossip more than we work." I point out in a soft voice, causing Quinn to look at me weirdly. "But thanks Q, I don't think I'd realize that until it was too late."

"Too late for what?"

I shake my head, going back to the register as a co-worker gives me a check. "Nothing."

I bring my hand up to my right chest and feel my heart beating faster as I caress the material over the black phone. I hope J Lo is okay.

Lunch with Katie could not come any sooner. As soon as the clock strikes 1, and after more bickering from Mike and Quinn about J Lo not calling again, I run out of the restaurant and make a dash towards Katie and I's usual lunch place. She's already seated in our regular table as I walk through the white doors. Katie looks up and finds me with her darker blue eyes and waves me over.

"Hey sis."

"Hi Kate." I mumble, leaning forward to peck her in the cheek in greeting as she does the same.

"You left pretty early today." She tells me as she calls for the waiter's attention.

I place the napkin on my lap and lick my lips. "And you came home super late."

She shrugs her shoulders and leans back on her chair. "Some friends of mine wanted to hang out at their place, I'm sorry I forgot to call."

"Mom called me."

"Did she?"

"Yeah and—" My eyes go wide when I realize I shouldn't be having this unnecessary conversation. I slam my hands on the table, blushing when I've caught the attention of a few people and stare back into Katie's eyes as she gives me an odd look. "You know how to hack right?"

Katie flushes and glances around her surrounding area before leaning close to me on her elbows. "I guess so? Why?"

I dump my hand inside my bra and pull out a phone, earning a slight jaw drop from Katie as she watches me, but has this familiar look on her face like she's used to my weird antics. I bring up the cracked-screen iPhone to her eye level and waggle it.

"Can you hack an iPhone?"

She stares at the phone before taking a sip of her water. "I—uh—"

The waiter comes to get our orders and I groan when Katie attends to him first, when he turns to me, I snap my order at him and turn back to Katie.

"Are you okay, Britt?"

"Can you hack this phone?"

She looks at J Lo's iPhone again then back at me. "Probably."

"Yes or no?!"

"I don't see why you can't just slide it open."

"It has a passcode, Kate."

"Is that even your phone? Yours is white."

I place the phone back on the table and sigh. "It's not mine."

She narrows her eyes on me. "Whose is that?"

"Not important, Kate! Can you or can't you?"

"You mean can you not?"

I pout. "Isn't that the same thing?"

"Seems not."

"Are you even good at your major? Is that why you're stalling? You actually don't know how?"

That finally seems to get her because she stops midway from drinking her glass of water and pauses for a second. Katie's dark blue eyes turn to me and narrow in a half-glare as she places her drink on the table and clenches her jaw.

"I know how." She grunts, her neatly trimmed eyebrows arching down in insult. "Give me the damn phone."

I smirk and giggle lightly at the situation and slide the phone to her. She huffs, picking it up to inspect it as our waiter comes over deliver our orders. She eyes the crack wearily.

"That's a huge crack." She notes, glancing at me briefly. "Where in the world did you get this phone?"

"It's a friend of mine's."

She presses the power button and it flashes on. She looks at the screen then back to me.

"What? What's wrong Kate?"

Katie turns the phone to me, letting me face the screen with a wallpaper image that I surely have implanted stuck in my head by now.

"I've never seen any of them in my life before. Are you sure they are your friends?"

I gulp. "The girl on the left is my friend."

She twists the phone back in her direction and frowns. "Like I said, I haven't seen any of them in my life."

"Santana's new." I mumble, hoping she wouldn't hear that blurt but unfortunately, she did. Her eyes nearly bulge out of its sockets as she says, or nearly screams,

"This is Santana (not J Lo) Lopez?!"

"What?"

"The apology text message?"

Oh. Right, her memory sure is clear for something that happened a week ago.

"Yes, her."

She flips her eyes to the phone screen then to me then again, and again, until I roll my eyes and say, "Will you stop it?"

"Okay when you said she was pretty, I didn't know she was hot!"

I frown. "She isn't hot."

Katie gives me a disbelieving look. "You must be blind." She retorts, staring at the screen again. "Even with a damn crack slashing her face, she's quite the pretty one."

"Okay," I drawl, clucking my tongue. "Can you hack it or not?"

Frowning, Katie juts her lower lip out. "Hold on a second, why do you have the doctor-you-hate's phone?"

"It's a long story, Kate." The cry of Santana's scared voice comes to mind again. "And I don't have time." I groan, suddenly gripping the table cloth tightly with my fists. "She's in trouble, big trouble—way bad trouble and I need to call her as soon as—"

Ring. Ring.

Kate and I look at the black phone on her hand as it vibrates with the number I dumbly didn't remember.

909-466-4260

I gasp and point at the phone. "Katie! Kate! Give me a pen now!"

Katie's eyes are wide and she's frozen as I hastily reach down for my bag and unzip it, grabbing for my own ballpen instead. I need to write this number down and answer J Lo ASAP.

After I get what I need, I snatch the phone from Katie's hand and scribble the number on the napkin on my lap.

"B-Britt, what's going on?"

After I finish writing it down, I dump the napkin in my bag and pull out my wallet, sliding my black card to my sister as I jump out of my seat and fix my things.

"Take out my food and pay for the napkin, don't forget my card, I love you! See you!"

I don't bother turning around as I walk outside the door and slide the bar to accept the call.

"Santana?! Santana! J Lo!"

"Again with the J Lo?" Grunts the woman that has been plaguing my mind for days.

"Are you okay? What happened? Are you hurt?"

She sighs on the other line. "Honestly? I have a medial cut on my left cheek, a big fucking bruise on my thigh, and a motherfucking headache."

"What's—What's going on?" I sigh, scratching my forehead as I look at my surroundings with tons of people walking around. "H-hold on, can you give me a second? I'm going back home so I can talk to you properly."

"Make it quick, time isn't my friend."

Immediately, I get to my apartment and run up the stairs again, glancing down at the phone every few minutes to check if she's still on the line. "Are you there?!" I screech as I take two steps up at a time.

"Shh, they'll hear you dammit!"

I make my voice lower as I say, "They're there?!"

"Just get into your damn place, sandwich girl!"

I put the key on the lock and go inside as I hiss. "It's Brittany."

"Well you call me J Lo so you have no say!"

"Okay, okay, I'm in—I'm in." I sigh, locking my bedroom and then wondering after why I did that. "So J-Santana, w-where are you?"

"I don't know myself."

"How long have you—uhm, been there?"

"Probably a week." She curses after, making whimpering noises as I try to be strong for her no matter how scary the situation is. "Brittany, I need you to give my phone to Blaine Anderson, he's my secretary—"

"I've met him."

"Good, then go to him, give him this phone and—"

"How did you get into this situation?"

"I don't have time to storytell, Barbie! My life is in stake here and these fuckers aren't saints so just follow me, okay?"

I furrow my eyebrows together in frustration and cross my arms together. "As much as I'd love to help you, I need to know what's going on before anything else. I can't just do what you say without a conscience! We need to do this together."

"I fucking hate you!" She spits, causing me to nearly tear up from anxiety and pressure. "Why can't you just give the damn phone to my secretary? I don't have time for this! This might as well be the only time I have and you're giving me a bigger headache."

"Santana…" I say softly, "Just breathe."

"No, you listen to me!"

"I'm not stupid! I'm not!" I yell, pointing a finger at the wall like it's her. "We're both freaking out and I want nothing more than to see you safe and sound even if you're mean." I inhale and exhale. "But I need to know. Just trust me on this."

Santana doesn't answer for 10 seconds.

"I thought time isn't our friend here?" I hiss and that gets her attention.

"I caught a bunch of doctors in my facility selling drugs to some of our patients and non-patients."

"Drugs?"

"Not the medicinal drugs, the bad ones, the high ones. I was checking the stock as usual when I bumped into one of the surgeons in our hospital and she dropped all these white packets."

"Drugs." I say dumbly.

"Unfortunately for me, the doctor has back up and just before I could bring her out of the storage room to interrogate and report her, I got stabbed by a needle and then I woke up in this ditch."

"But why haven't they killed you yet?" I ask, pacing around my room.

"Why do I have a feeling you're disappointed I'm alive?"

I roll my eyes. "Time isn't our friend." I repeat.

"Because… Because only I have access to the security room that have the cameras inside the storage room that recorded them."

"Then didn't the cameras catch the men that knocked you out?"

"That's the thing Brittany. The men that knocked me out were doctors from the hospital too."

My eyes bulge out. "What?" I shriek in disbelief. "So basically—"

"I have motherfucking dealers inside my general hospital, yes."

"So it was easy to bring you out." I voice out my thoughts.

"I don't know how they brought me out but here I am."

"Alive, thankfully."

"I hear sarcasm."

"Time." I sing song, stopping when I hear her curse again. "How badly hurt are you?"

"Not so much that it pains me to talk to you."

"I'm going to find you, Santana. I will help you."

"I know you will because if you don't, I'm killing you after I'm dead."

I frown, ignoring her mean words yet again.

"So here's the thing, they are doctors so they know how to hurt me, but not kill me. But god, it fucking hurts. And until I give them the access codes of the surveillance camera that caught them with the drug packets, they won't kill me."

"But they're going to keep torturing you until you do."

She chuckles sadly. "Lucky for me, I'm hard-headed and tough."

"No, no."

"And they can't kidnap my family members or blackmail me because one, my family lives in Rio, and two, I'm a clean slate."

"So they're really just using torture to get it out of your system?"

"Yes, if I'm dead, someone will find my body sooner or later."

"Unless they bleach your body." I mumble and it causes Santana to growl.

"Are you seriously giving me hope or loss?"

"I'm just pointing out the facts! Why wouldn't they kill you if they knew how to use bleach?"

Santana stays silent and ponders.

"Dammit, probably because if I'm dead, they're going to use security footage to check my last appearance for clues and then they'll see the drug packets and ask her why she was the last person to see me before I disappeared."

"See? Now you know why."

"Huh."

"Okay, are there any windows in there?"

"None. It's pitch black, I have no fucking clue where I am."

"How—" I stop, realizing something. "—How did you get this phone?"

A dark chuckle escapes her lips.

"It's not a phone, it's my pager—Well, it was my mom's old pager."

"I don't understand?"

"It's really old beat, back in the 90s when my mom was a doctor in the field herself. I bring it with me wherever I go as good luck. It's old and it doesn't have any contacts, hasn't been used since 1991 but I got it to work enough to make a call."

"That's good." I sigh, leaning back on the wall of my room then nearly slumping in shame when I think about the fact I'm in a homey environment and Santana is stuck in some abandoned place, injured and bleeding and still, I'm not doing much of anything.

"I don't think I should give your phone to Blaine."

"What? He's my secretary, as soon as I tell him to go to the security area and get the footage and report it to the police, they'll arrest Elaine and—"

"Is that the doctor you bumped into?"

"Yes. Dr. Elaine Smith, pediatric surgeon—why am I still telling you this?!"

"Okay listen Santana, you said that there were 3 doctors that are responsible for this?"

"That's why I need to get out of here and protect my patients before they kill them! I don't even understand why they are doing this, they go by the code, and—and they don't need the money—so what are they after?"

Santana's defeated voice gives me strength as I push off the wall and gather my things again.

"I know, and I promise you I will help you, but if you say that those doctors betrayed you and the hospital when you thought they wouldn't, I don't think you can trust anyone else in that hospital yet, Santana."

"What? No. Blaine has been my secretary for 4 years."

"And how many years has Dr. Elaine been a doctor under your service?"

"5."

"There. I don't trust him, his hair says enough about being not trustworthy."

"You've met him?"

"Time isn't our friend." I mumble, squishing the phone in between my ear and shoulder as I grab a back-up charger in case the phone gets low-bat—wait. "How is your pager still on?"

Santana sighs. "I've only got 2 bars left."

"How long are those 2 bars?"

"Give or take 1 hour."

"1 hour?!" I shriek, suddenly dropping my things. "How old is that pager?"

"I have never charged this thing in my life. It's been 2 bars since you've answered the phone and I'm pretty sure it's one bar now. So, tell me your plan Brittany because unfortunately, you're the only one I can trust right now."

"First of all, I need the passcode to your phone."

"0000."

"Are you kidding me?"

She chuckles.

"Now is not the time to make jokes, Santana."

"1116."

"Okay." I say, grabbing the napkin I've used to write down her number to jot down the passcode.

"Don't look at anything, my messages, my pi—"

"I don't think you have a say in this, Santana." I grunt, rolling my eyes at her immature attitude. "What do you have in there? Nudes?" I kid.

Silence.

I start blushing profusely.

"What else?" Oddly, she sounds flustered. It's probably her injuries getting to her.

"Okay, I'm going to leave your phone with my sister so that she can track your whereabouts and I'm about to head to your hospital to get the security footage."

"That's a problem."

"What is?"

"Only 3 people are entitled to view those footages, and only 1 knows the code."

"You know the code, so only 2 have access to the videos."

"Fuck. Either Blaine or Mercedes is a traitor."

"Or both."

I go to the living room and pull out a chair, feeling shameful once again when I think of the situation Santana is in compared to mine. I stare at the clock and pray Katie hurries home after her last class and doesn't go off with her friends again.

"So how am I going to get those codes?"

"Can't you just find where I am and bring the police since I'm being held hostage and they are torturing me—we don't need the footage."

"I plan to do that but these people need to be arrested for the drugs too."

"We can do that after you find me. I'll do it myself."

"Santana, I will find you. I promised you, didn't I? Just tell me how else I can access those video footages."

Santana sighs. "My life and hospital is at stake and you're being so stubborn."

I clear my throat and look down at my feet. I didn't want to say what I have to say, but it's the only way to get it through her head. "What if they realize I'm standing outside their hideout with the police and decide to kill you on the spot?" I say in a weak voice. "Your life wouldn't be spared anymore since they're going to jail anyways."

Santana doesn't say anything.

"I'm trying to keep all my options open because I don't want you to die."

"The same thing could happen if you get those footages. As soon as they know you have them, they'll kill me."

"They won't know."

"And how are you going to make sure of that?"

"You tell me. What can I do? It's your hospital."

"I'm thinking, Brittany."

"How much battery does your pager have left?"

There are shuffling noises and then Santana's voice comes back. "Brittany, I have to go. I hear footsteps, they're back."

Fear surges through my veins. "I don't—I can't."

"I'm hanging up."

I don't want to leave her alone, to let her get hurt alone. Whoever those people are, they're going to get what's coming for them. I was never a fan of violence, and I don't think I ever will be.

"Santana." I whimper, feeling scared even though I should be strong for her.

"1116-6111-L0P3Z is the security access code. I don't know what you plan to do but I'll call you and I hope by then, you'll have a plan."

"Please—"

"I'm going to be okay." She says, even though we both know she won't be. "Bye Brittany."

And it goes dead.

It's silent for a while in the apartment as I block out images of people hurting Santana in a dark room. I can imagine her snarky comebacks as I hear the door opening and my sister's voice enter the room. She stops humming when she spots me hunched over by the kitchen counter.

Immediately, she dashes to me and lifts my chin.

"Brittany? Britt? What's wrong?" She looks down at the black phone on my hand. "Is—Is it—"

With determination suddenly flowing through my veins, I press Santana's phone to Katie's chest and hop off the counter. "I need you to find the location of the last contact number that called this phone." I mumble, sliding the napkin with the passcode of her phone on it.

Katie turns to me and I look back at her. "I'll tell you everything later, I just need that location now." She nods and goes to get her laptop as I once again, pace around the area. When Katie comes back, she's plugging Santana's phone in the usb socket of her computer and goes right at it.

"Katie, let's say I have the access security code for the CCTV files but I have no authorization, no entitlement, and I don't know anyone who can do it for me—but me."

She continues to type as she glances at me briefly. "You have the passcode but you can't get them?"

I nod my head. "But I need them."

"Right, of course you do." She huffs, clenching her eyes shut for a second to think of a way herself. "I can't think of any other way."

Defeated, I continue to pace around. "I'm just a stranger," I mumble, deep in thought. "Why would they allow me to suddenly get those clips?"

"I could probably hack into it."

I snap my attention back to her. "You could?"

"It's not easy to hack without the passcode without getting caught, but since you have it, I can get you to the system and get the clips without anyone knowing."

I smile for the first time in a long 2 days. "That's brilliant! How can we do that?"

"Uhm—" she stops, giving me a cautious look. "I'd have to be in the hospital with you, connected to some wires that attaches itself to the main system."

My shoulders slouch down yet again, in defeat. "Too risky, we'll be caught as soon as you plug them in."

"You never know." She sing songs, causing me to roll my eyes.

"This isn't a movie Kate, we aren't going to rely on luck here. We need everything to go according to plan."

"You and your routines." She teases me, clicking a few more things on her computer before she stops and raises her hands in the air. "15 seconds earlier than expected!" She squeals, rotating the screen to face it to me.

A red blinking dot is all I see against a vast color of green and white.

Katie points at the dot. "This is where 909-466-4260 is calling you."

Then she slides her finger down a couple of streets. "This is where we are."

"It's far."

"1 hour walk, 15 minute drive." Katie calculates whilst tapping her chin. "Whoever brought her there really didn't want anyone to try and find her quick."

All I can think of is drug dealers.

"Katie, never do drugs, you hear me?"

Katie turns to me with a confused frown. "Uhm, okay?"

"We need to think of a way to get those security footages." I sigh, exasperated.

"Well, legally, whatever the wife owns, the husband can get." Katie mentions with a faraway expression, probably deep in thought too. "Bank, house and lot, kids, everything!"

"Are you saying even—even authorization to security footages?" I gasp at the idea.

"I guess if it's an emergency?" Katie hums, tapping her fingers on the counter. "This sounds like a pretty good emergency."

"Like—let's say—the disappearance of my wife?" I grin, jumping on my toes. "And I'm worried and I need to know the last time she was seen in her work place?"

Katie winks at me. "Gotcha."

"You're a genius Katie!" I stop then. "But—but we aren't married."

"So get married."

The image of Santana's smiling face in her camera screen plus her in a long white wedding gown pops inside my mind and suddenly, I feel my heart throb.

"She'd be a hot wife, but a messy one."

I glare at her. "She's 1 hour walk away and I need the person physically beside me in court if I were to marry her."

"So let's get you the next best thing."

I am confused as I stare at her. "Which is?"

"When J Lo calls back, tell her we need to talk to her lawyer."

"Why?"

"Next to your wife, the most trusted person you can ever trust in because it is in the books, and it is their job, and they are for the law, is your damn lawyer."

Still, I'm confused.

Katie rolls her eyes at me. "Just—just give me the phone when Santana calls, alright?"

I nod my head dumbly. "Okay, okay."

Katie and I are slumped across the kitchen counter as we both wait for Santana's call, it's been 7 hours, nearing 10pm and I'm starting to get worried.

"Weird." Katie suddenly mumbles after a long silence, I tilt my head up and face her.

"What is?"

She nudges her chin towards the iPhone plugged to her computer.

"It's weird how you got into this situation."

I shrug my shoulders. "Fate's a funny thing." I reply nonchalantly, twisting a lock of my hair as we continue to wait.

Katie inches closer to Santana's phone, suddenly smirking. I narrow my eyes on her suspiciously as she unplugs it and giggles.

"What's so funny?"

Her smirk becomes more coy. "I just thought, we have someone's phone, her passcode and we haven't sneaked on it yet!" She snickers, sticking her tongue out at me.

My eyes widen at what she's about to suggest and quickly, I shake my head. "Kate, no." I hiss, walking to her side. "It's not right, Santana's in danger and we can't joke around."

Rolling her dark blue orbs at me, she puts in the passcode and opens the locked iPhone. "I'm not doing anything bad, and looking around is just looking around. You never know, we can find some important information that we might need. It could help us help her faster."

I didn't know if it was Katie's explanation or my past conversation with Santana about not sneaking around on her phone that got me to suddenly agree. "I guess if you put it that way…" I mumble.

Katie scrolls down her messages and I just watch her, reading various names I don't know of.

"Huh, no boyfriend-"

"-or girlfriend." I blurt out, blushing when Katie flashes me a grin. "I'm just saying, we need to be open, you know." I say, gulping.

Chuckling, Katie closes the messages' app and taps on the photos icon, my heart suddenly beating faster for some reason, a near memory-

What do you have in there? Nudes?

That must be it.

"Hey, she's pretty photogenic."

"Well, she's gorgeous, what do you expect?"

Smiling, Katie winks at me. "Your gay is showing, Britt."

I roll my eyes at her. "Just hurry up! I feel like we're doing something really bad."

"Yeah, yeah...Oh."

I snap my head towards Katie after hearing the sudden drop of her vocal cords and frown at her flushed face. Did I say something wrong? Did I make her feel guilty too?

"What? What is it? Did you find something?"

Clearing her throat, Katie nods and turns to me. "I found something alright."

Narrowing my eyes on her in confusion, I sigh and extend a palm out. "You're acting weird, hand me the phone."

Not noticing her smirk, Katie gladly places it on top of my hand and walks around the counter, humming.

I face the cracked screen and nearly chocked on my own saliva at the photo my poor blue eyes have laid on.

Damn J Lo does have nudes.

"Katie!" I shriek, not putting my eyes away from the god-sent image flashing before me. "Katie!"

"Yes?" She drawls out with a knowing smirk as she leans forward on her elbows.

"Katie!"

"What Britt?" She asks, giggling hysterically as I continue to ogle at the defined abs and toned curves of this beautiful woman-no, enchantress, in just her bra as her legs are crossed together to hide the hidden treasure that I badly want to see-uh-yeah. I curse at the puckered lips shown on the screen as her phone half covers her face.

"Katie!"

Laughing even harder, Katie doubles over.

"Katie!"

"Will you stop yelling my name?" She laughs some more, biting her lower lip to try and stop it.

"Katie!"

I almost felt paralysed, my eyes couldn't move, and so couldn't my body either.

"Now that's what I call a bathroom selfie, huh?" Katie teases, causing me to jolt in place as I blush furiously and slide the phone back to her.

"Remove it!"

"Bluetooth it?"

My face could not get any redder. "No, I said to take it away from me!"

"Take what away?"

"The damn photo." I hiss.

"Why don't you do it?"

"You opened it!"

"Is your Airdrop on?"

I tug on the ends of my hair as I pace around the kitchen floor. "I'm going to kill you."

"And sent!"

Twisting my neck around to face her, nearly snapping my head off, I yell, "What?!"

Katie giggles at me and winks. "Just kidding. Your phone is in your room, Britt."

Oddly, I feel disappointed and relieved.