A/N: I am still overwhelmed by the response to this story. Thank you everyone!
P.S. .. I need better euphemisms for 'vagina.' Seriously. I apologize for the awkwardness of some of the sentences lol.
Chapter 17
I felt all the air whoosh out of my body with a dull thud as I landed square on my back on the thin blue pad. I heaved, trying desperately to suck air in, but only managed a thin wheeze before my diaphragm remembered how to work and coughed a little bit. My face, already flushed, turned a darker red and I felt a sheen of sweat break out over my forehead.
The gangly, slight frame of the girl stood over me, peering down at me speculatively. She still gave me the willies. It was just my luck that that Brynn girl had kickboxing classes with me every Monday. It was also my luck that, although she was smaller and had a lighter frame than I did, she was freakishly strong.
I scowled at her, forcing myself up into a sitting position, where I rested my elbows on my knees for a moment. I tried to fight off a dizzying wave of nausea that the movement inspired. Groaning, I rubbed my temple and tried to stop making the world float around me.
Brynn crouched down, her hair frizzing out around here due to the heat of the practice room as well as her own sweat. "Are you all right?" She asked, in her flat monotone. I nodded, then gave myself a little shake, before accepting the hand she offered to pull me back up.
"All right girls, that's enough for today!" Our instructor's name was Mr. Wilson and he was a youngish man in his mid-thirties, with riotously curly black hair and dark eyes with a slight slant to them. Quinn teased me mercilessly about him – she thought I had a crush on him or something – which made me smile briefly. I actually don't feel anything for Mr. Wilson except admiration for his patience in teaching a bunch of whiny girls how to pummel the crap out of each other.
That, in and of itself, sort of bothered me. Why wasn't I attracted to Mr. Wilson? Most of the other girls were, and not all of them were technically 'girls.' There were a few ladies in our beginner's class in their twenties. They would fawn over the instructor, begging him to give them extra lessons and teach them how to properly 'stretch.' I rolled my eyes at the thought, slinging a towel around my neck and sucking on water from a water bottle. I made my way back to the locker room, where I grabbed my backpack and headed out. Most of the other students were going to shower, but I decided to wait 'til I got back to Atherton. Quinn always scrunched her nose up and made a 'gross' face whenever I got into her car, all sweaty and stinky, but I knew she kinda thought it was hot.
Brynn the Car-less Wonder had been catching rides with us ever since that first day of class when I noticed she was there. It only gave her and Quinn more time to bond over their freakishness. If I could manage it, I never spoke directly to her. She was one of those people who don't think it's rude to stare. Frankly, if I could have erased this girl from my radar, I would have. But Quinn loved her – thought she was cute, like an ugly puppy or something – and took to inviting her to sit with us at lunch. Our lunch table now housed an assortment of the castoffs and misfits of Atherton, saving Quinn, who was like the shiny golden goddess of us all. I smirked a little bit, tugging the car door open and sliding in, Brynn a beat behind me in the back seat. I wondered sometimes if Quinn hadn't maneuvered it like that deliberately.
It was hard for me to separate Quinn from the girl I'd always known in high school, the one with the ruthless drive to dominate. I knew that Quinn wasn't the same kid, because – well – she'd actually given birth to a kid, and that changes people. She was actually extremely sweet and caring, and always did her best to help people. I thought it was part of an act, to be honest. Nobody's that nice, all the time. I was starting to slowly accept the idea that maybe it wasn't. Maybe this was just the new Quinn; the girl who didn't meet a stranger, who helped everyone, and was sweet and kind. Or she was doing a pretty good job of affirming that image in my mind, so maybe it was just her new 'image.'
Either way, it got annoying for me. I lamented the days when we were wickedly vicious to people together. I even missed Brittany's half-hearted, dazed taunts. It gets old being the only one carrying the weight of mean girl. Though there wasn't a lack of those at Atherton, I was still the only one of us who wasn't afraid to say what was on my mind at any given time. Except for that Motta girl – she's got no filter. That phrase had once been applied to me, and I carried it with pride.. but now that I realized it was actually quite obnoxious and entirely intolerable, I felt a little bad. Slightly.
Quinn wrinkled her face at me when I sat down beside her, and I grinned, using the back of my hand and wrist to wipe away a thick layer of sweat. Then I leaned over and quickly smeared it over her face, causing her to yelp and jerk the car. I doubled over laughing.
"Santana, that shit is disgusting!" She scowled at me, angrily wiping the sweat off her face with her own arm and scrunching her nose up. She seemed genuinely pissed, and that surprised me a little. "You're such a fucking boy sometimes."
I laughed and waggled my eyebrows at her, keeping it PG because of Brynn in the back. She looked between us as if we were interesting science experiments.
I smirked at her, covertly checking the rearview for Brynn's line of sight. She was staring out the window. I casually slid my hand over to Quinn's lap and started tracing little circles there, throwing her an apologetic look when she turned her face towards me. Her eyes were narrowed and I could tell I wasn't going to get off that easy. So I just reached up and tugged her hand away from the wheel and began playing with it, tracing my fingertips over each finger and knuckle. I did this the entire silent car ride, contented to look out the window. Quinn visibly relaxed.
It was mid-October now, and the skies were usually gray and overcast. Most of the leafs were turning colors, and the grass was a dull yellow or brown. I've never experienced an autumn at this altitude, and I was a little surprised at how quickly the seasons changed here. I knew that down in Lima, which was more of a flatland area, it was probably a good ten degrees warmer, with less color in the trees.
We dropped Brynn off at the horse corral, because she took lessons. The girl had a schedule compacted full of after school activities. Quinn said it was to drive off the loneliness, because she literally had no friends here except for us. I didn't consider her my 'friend,' so really, her only friend was Quinn. She always looked at me a little imploringly when she said this, as if she wanted me to.. what? Be nice to her? Ha. I was doing that by not insulting her ridiculous haircut every time I looked at her.
Groaning, I drug myself up the stairs to our dorm room. My muscles tingled and I felt weak and shaky.
"You gonna make it?" Quinn asked, coming up behind me and gripping my bare elbow. I glanced at her and then at the daunting amount of stairs above us. We were only about halfway there.
See, Cheerios training had conditioned me to be more physically fit than most, but it still wasn't as vigorous as kickboxing coupled with the insane dance performances we practiced at the Vox on Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays. The New Directions' dance numbers were insanely simple compared to the complex and vigorous sessions Miss Holiday planned out for us every week. Our sectionals were coming up the first week of December, right after the little five day weekend we were allotted for Thanksgiving.
I nodded to Quinn, swaying slightly, fighting the urge to give in and lean on her. I didn't want anyone to get any ideas, and it was still early enough in the day that students were pounding up and down the stairs beside us at a steady pace. I just clutched the cool, glossy wood banister beside me and began the ascent again.
Sometimes I missed Brittany's ridiculous strength, and this particular situation reminded me of a time when I had rolled my ankle in cheer practice. Britt had been so cute, carrying me around everywhere that day, honey-moon style. The memory brought a ghost of a smile to my face as I continued the trudge.
Finally, when we reached the dorm, I went to collapse in the bed, and Quinn surprised me by catching my arms and pulling me away from the bed.
"You're gross. Go take a shower." She was laughing when she said it, but she wasn't kidding. I groaned.
"Quinn, I just want to sleep for about a year."
She wrinkled her face at me, and then tugged at my sweaty t-shirt, which caused a waft of my own odor to reach me. I crinkled my own face at the smell.
"All right, you win," I laughed, and then peeled the moist clothes from my body, tossing them behind me as I made my way into the bathroom. By the time I was at the shower, I was down to just underwear, which I slid off and left right in front of the stall, turning on the faucets.
I began the ritual of showering, listening half-heartedly to Quinn bitching about me throwing my dirty clothes everywhere out in the room.
Freshly bathed and changed into a t-shirt and soft cotton shorts, I sat down on the floor with Quinn, who had her physics book out in front of her. I leaned against my bed, stretching, using the weird angle of the drawers and the bedframe to pop my back. The shower had loosened my tight muscles and made me feel relaxed, but not as tired as I was before.
Quinn was facing towards me, her books and pens and notebooks spread out between us. My legs were spread wide open, my wet hair pulled up in a ponytail. I was bored, and didn't feel like doing homework. I almost never did. I was one of those students who could slap down answers to homework sheets in the ten minutes between classes, with sleep still in my eyes.
"My muscles are so sore," I said to Quinn, whining. She glanced up from her work, arching a brow, and then leaned back to study me. I gave her a small smile and then drew my own leg up to knead at my calf.
Quinn didn't say anything, instead scooting herself forward, sweeping the textbook and papers out of the way with her leg. She gave me a soft smile, and then planted a kiss on my bare knee, before she used her own fingers to knead into my calf.
I grunted, enjoying the feeling, leaning back to watch her. She had a look of extreme concentration on her face, her eyebrows knitted slightly, her lips pursed. Her fingers were soft and slight, but they worked against the knots and soreness located in my leg. She switched to the opposite one and I smiled at her, wiggling my toes playfully.
"Don't get any funny ideas," I told Quinn warningly when she began to knead into my thigh instead of my calf. Her head shot up and she looked at me with this peculiar look. I tilted my head at her.
We hadn't been physically intimate with each other since that first night a few weeks ago. Part of it was to do with the drama that happened at the fair, but the other part was that we had both been so busy and so tired lately. I didn't spend too much time thinking about it.. we spent almost every night cuddled up in the same bed, and there was sometimes kissing. We had fallen into the niche of not just friends, but not girlfriends, (I shuddered at that term) and I was completely comfortable with it. I assumed she was, too.
Still.. she was wearing her Atherton dress shirt and skirt, but she had unbuttoned some of the buttons and I caught a glimpse of cleavage when she leaned down. I can't deny the way it made my heartbeat start to speed up. I tensed when she nudged forward, parting my legs a little bit more, kneading her palms into the meat of my thigh.
The sight of her kneeling between my legs made all the spit in my mouth dry up. My eyes widened, watching her fingers work over the soft area directly adjoining my crotch. She may have noticed the way I almost stopped breathing and turned a dark shade of red, because she laughed quietly. I snapped my gaze up to her face and scowled.
"Lay down on the bed, I'll give you a massage."
I smirked, raising an eyebrow at her. "Lock the door." It was my attempt at flirting. Quinn returned my smile, but didn't argue, and went to turn the simple lock on the doorknob.
Okay, so if I was a second away from hyperventilating before, I definitely was close now. My eyes must have bugged out because Quinn grinned at me, pulling on my arm to help me crawl into my bed.
I lied with my face down on the mattress, trying to think of anything else other than the heat of Quinn's legs as she straddled me right at my hips, sitting her butt against mine. I smashed my face into a pillow in order to try to control my breathing, but that wasn't working. I could feel Quinn quake with laughter above me, and it made me scrunch my eyebrows against the blankets.
She slowly started rubbing her palms over my back, slipping them beneath the slight fabric of my shirt. I let out an involuntary groan, feeling the muscles loosen and contract. Quinn started pushing and shoving with the meat of her hands, fingers splaying into the valleys and dips of my back. It felt nice. I felt myself relaxing, despite the very distracting idea that Quinn was straddling me.
Well, that was until I started to feel her slip her fingers down along my side, rubbing absently against my ribs and then higher up, smoothing against the sides of my breasts. I started sucking in ragged breaths, feeling my nipples harden and tingle against the bed. I turned my head and tried to stare at the wall and ignore it. It's kinda like getting caught with a boner, and super embarrassing.
Quinn leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against my back, right around where she'd bunched the shirt up around my shoulders. I bit my lip, holding back a moan, while she trailed hot, wet kisses down the length of my spine. I started writhing, and the lower she got, the harder it was to repress it.
"Quinn," I murmured, and then slowly rolled over. Quinn lifted herself up and then settled back down once I was facing her. She smiled at me, her eyes lidded, and I couldn't help but return the grin. She started massaging slowly over my stomach, making the muscles tense and quiver beneath her hands. She was being incredibly slow and deliberate about it, and looked wildly sexy, her face flushed.
I reached my hands up and then curled forward, to undo the last few buttons of her shirt, and then slowly slid it down her arms. I glanced up at her and saw she was smiling at me. I returned her smile, lifting up to press a kiss against her lips.
Her hands fisted in my hair, and I wrapped my hands around her thighs, pulling her tighter against me as we kissed. My breath exploded between us, hot and moist, lips fighting and tongues battling in a kiss that was all heat and teeth. Quinn made a noise a little like a growl when I pulled her lip into my mouth and sucked on it, and I grinned when she pulled my hair.
I could feel the damp heat coming from Quinn's crotch, pressed against mine, and it made every nerve in my body tingle. I started rubbing my hands along her thighs, working towards the middle, eager to press against her underwear and the slickness I was sure I'd find there.
Quinn smiled against me, and then used her body to press mine backwards, laying me flat against the bed, her hands drawing my shirt up and over my head as we went. When I lied back, my torso was naked, and Quinn was hovering over me, her short blonde hair falling around her face, making a halo.
"Who knew you were such a top?" I whispered, smiling. She grinned back at me and began to kiss along my neck, her hands rubbing up and down the length of my ribs and brushing her thumbs along the sides of my breasts. I lay there quietly, breathing shallowly against her, biting my lip and writhing beneath her, panting. Quinn slowly began rocking against me, and the pressure was causing warmth to explode from my privates. I wanted to touch her desperately. My hands were restlessly roaming over her back, sliding nails against her soft skin, teasing the line of her skirt that sat snugly on her hips.
My body was squirming with hers, my hips bucking upwards every time she ground down, seeking pressure and release. My skin was burning from her lips and touches, my heart hammering against my ribs. I finally shifted and then wrapped my legs around her, groaning at the sudden, but fleeting, relief I found in the contact.
Quinn grinned at me, her lips pressed against my neck, and I felt her teeth peek out and nip against me, while her right hand trailed down in the space beneath us. My breath exploded raggedly, my back arching in anticipation when her fingers flirted briefly against the hem of my shorts.
She was deliberately brief with her touches, using the pads of her fingertips to scorch my skin, dipping below the waistband and then swirling little designs against my skin. I was moaning, making soft, pleading noises in my throat, and my hips pressed against her urgently every time she dipped lower along my abdomen and along my inner thighs.
I knew I was soaked, I could feel the slickness against my legs, my underwear matted to me. Quinn rubbed along the valley between my lips softly, eliciting a grunt from me. I could sense her raise her head and peer down at me, though my eyes were squeezed shut and I had my lip caught with my teeth.
"Fuck, Quinn," I sputtered, grinding myself against her gentle fingers. My hands pressed on her shoulders urgently, as if I could convey with my palms how desperately I needed her to stop fucking teasing me. I didn't see it but I could tell she was smiling.
Finally, she slipped her slim hand beneath the seam of my panties, and I held my breath in anticipation. She glided three fingers through the mass of wetness she found there, before she spread my lips and then plucked a single digit against my clit.
My hips jumped, my whole body seizing with the delicious shock of pleasure, and I started moving against her restlessly. I couldn't take it anymore. The warmth of Quinn's palm against my pelvis and the feeling of her delicate fingers against me made me crazy, and I wanted more than anything to be on top of her.
I moved to flip us, shifting myself down and using my calves to wrap around hers. But somehow Quinn predicted this and she simply held firm, using her free hand to hold my shoulder down while she continued to slowly play with my clit, swirling around it, dragging her fingers in exploration around the folds and hollows beneath.
I was whimpering now, desperately, my body moving of its own accord against her – it was like she was playing an instrument, and I was helpless to resist. My whole frame felt like it was on fire, and the pressure inside me was increasing with every second. I felt somehow helpless like this, trapped beneath her, unable to change our positions. I gripped at her tightly, cupping the back of her neck to pull her face close to mine. I didn't open my eyes once, because I felt too exposed – too vulnerable like this. I just sought her mouth hungrily, swallowing her lips and muffling my grunts and groans against her. I put a lot of emotion into that kiss; emotions I wasn't even aware of, that lurked somewhere inside me.. firstly, my desperate need for her, as if she were the answer to every question my body could ever ask, but also other things.. a torrent of memories and feelings that I would never, ever be able to find the words for.
I suddenly exploded against her, her fingers having circled my clit mercilessly, and I tore my lips away from her to muffle a scream against my own palm, biting down hard. My body thrashed and clenched, and I could feel myself throbbing inside, squeezing against nothing, since her fingers had never delved there. My chest heaved, lungs expanding and contracting irregularly, my heartbeat pattering wildly. I saw stars. Finally, my muscles began to relax, and slowly the tension drained, leaving me supple and relaxed.
Quinn lied on top of me, resting her head against my chest, listening to my heart. I let out a long huff of breath, my hands dragging lazily up to smooth down her hair and rub her back. I felt tired and weak, and unmentionably comfy, with Quinn resting on top of me.
I'm guilty of drifting off immediately after sex, if I'm on the receiving end. Part of me struggled against it, because I wanted to turn Quinn over and make love to her slowly, to repay her for the way she made me feel. But my muscles were jelly, both from the long day and the exquisite release I'd just experienced. Quinn murmured something against my skin, but I barely heard it, and before I knew it I was asleep.
Xxxx
Tuesdays are 'Anger Management' days. Like Brynn, I have a full week: Monday for Kickboxing, Tuesday for Mr. Neely, and Wednesday through Friday for The Vox. I tapped my pencil against my notebook briefly, staring at the clock hovering above the door by Mrs. Sterling's head. She's my English III teacher, and honestly – all English classes are, for me, a total waste of time. I read at a college level and have since I was in eighth grade. I had tried, for a while, to get my father to let me test out of high school English classes.. that was a vain hope, though. He thought I was just kidding, that I didn't have the ability to bypass them. The tests cost money, and besides – what would I do with my time if I had a free hour? I'm sure he thought I'd use it to fuck boys or something.
When the bell rang I shifted, yanking up my backpack and shoving my notebook inside. I hadn't written a single thing on the white page, and I felt a little guilty.. not because of the class, which was pointless, but because I could have used the time to write Brittany a letter. I hadn't remembered to, though. All I could think about was the glint of green of Quinn's eyes, and her thick eyelashes.
I waited for Quinn by the staircase, in case she forgot I had a date with the wanky Mr. Neely. It was only the second week of therapy, and we usually 'studied' together for a few hours after class. Studying was code for: I stare at Quinn while she pretends to ignore me and stare at her textbooks, scribbling notes onto paper. It was fun times. I usually made a mental bet with myself to try to see who could resist the urge to make out the longest.
I smiled immediately when I saw her walking towards me, like some commercial for shampoo or glitzy women's products. I didn't think about the way my heartbeat sped up or the way I had to swallow my own drool.
"Hey Q," I smirked at her, and she returned my smile, as if she could read my mind. "I've got that stupid meeting with the guidance counselor today."
Quinn nodded, glancing around at the stream of students that walked by us without notice. "I remember. I think I'm going to sign up for something to do on Tuesdays while you're there."
I cocked my head, studying her. She was deliberately avoiding looking at me for a reason. "All right.. like what?"
Quinn's face broke out in a guilty smile. "Track, with Brynn."
I rolled my eyes. "Quinn, that girl is a bad, bad influence on you." I was being serious. I didn't like Quinn spending all that time with her.
Quinn smirked, raising both of her eyebrows at me. "And what are you, pray tell?" Her tone of voice implied a lot more than words.
I chuckled. "I'm good for you, Tink." I reached up and tugged affectionately on a lock of her hair. "I keep you on the straight and narrow."
Quinn had to swallow a huge laugh. "I don't know anything about you keeping me straight, Santana."
My jaw dropped. I sputtered, glancing around quickly at the sea of students milling about. "Jesus, Fabray," I said, patting my chest delicately. "You're going to give me a heart attack one of these days."
Quinn smirked arrogantly. "That's my goal."
"God, you're terrible," I laughed, giving her a playful shove. "I'll meet you upstairs when it's done. Get me a salad for dinner."
Quinn just chuckled, giving me a wave of her fingers as she turned to go.
I was being serious; I felt like I was going to develop love handles. Love handles. That just wouldn't do.
I pushed into Mr. Neely's office impatiently, letting the door slap noisily back into its place while I thumped my bags down and took a seat at his overly cushy chair. He was leaning back in his chair, reading a magazine or something, with weird square glasses on.
I noticed, not for the first time, that he was balding, though his curly hair hid it pretty well. He also had a paunch, and dressed like Britt's grandpa Merle. He had a weird paternal cast about him and it set me on edge, though it probably made other girls feel more at ease around him.
"Hello Santana," Mr. Neely said pleasantly, lying down the rolled up book he was looking at. "How has your day been?"
I shrugged, crossing my arms over my chest and crossing my legs as well, jouncing my foot impatiently. I eyed the clock, aware we still had about 58 minutes left before I could leave.
"Did anything happen today to make you angry?" Mr. Neely asked. He asked that last time, too. I wondered if he was going to ask it every day.
I shook my head, still silent. Not until you asked me that. I felt the urge to snap at him, but I didn't. I felt like this was progress.
I didn't have anything to do with my hands or eyes, so I reached over and dug around in my bag, coming back up with a nail file. That was better. I started buffing my nails, refusing to even glance in Mr. Neely's direction.
He shifted, sighed, and drummed his fingers against his desk. "Santana, we can't start to get around your anger until you talk to me."
I lifted my eyes to glare at him. "I'm not angry."
He smiled, and I returned to buffing my nails.
"This really isn't going to work out for you," He said, and it made me look up at him again. He was leaning back and had both of his hands clasped behind his head, studying me.
"Yeah? So I can quit coming?" The idea was very appealing, but suspicious.
"No," He shook his head, a tinkle of laughter in his voice. "If you don't, hmm, participate during our sessions, I may have to report to the school board that you're simply too uncooperative to remain here."
I squinted my eyes, glaring at him. "Basically, you're blackmailing me." I didn't give him time to respond. Instead, I slapped my nail file down on his desk, leaning forward. "Listen, Mr. Neely. I understand what you're trying to do here. It's kind of pointless though. A few kumbaya sessions with you, and talking about how to 'properly express my anger'" I made air quotes around that phrase, "is not going to change one single thing about me. Okay?" I smiled sweetly at him, head tilted to the side.
He leaned forward, matching my stance. "Santana, why are you so angry all the time? Do you know?"
I rolled my eyes, huffing. "Because I have to live in a world with idiots," I said, pointedly.
He smiled, unfazed. "Do you even know why you're so defensive?"
I cocked my head. This guy was kidding, right? "This is just the awesomeness that is me, Todd. I'm not angry or defensive or any of the other quack shrink terms you want to label me." I shifted, settling back into my chair.
He sighed again, studying me. I met his gaze frankly. Finally he rubbed his hand over his head and then started rifling through a file drawer.
"I'm going to give you some articles to read," He told me, producing them, and handing them to me over the expanse of his desk. "I want you to write an essay about anger in general, your own anger, and how you're going to manage it. I want it next Tuesday."
I scowled, looking at the printed pages in my hand. "Like I don't already have enough homework." I said.
He shrugged. "You wanted to do this the hard way. You won't talk to me, so maybe you'll feel more comfortable writing about it."
I glared at him again, shoving the papers into my bag. I stood up, slinging it over my shoulder. "Can I go now?" I hated asking that question, because it only outlined how utterly powerless I was among the adults in my life. He just nodded.
I left, still seething.
On my way back upstairs, I felt my phone buzzing in my pocket. I pulled it out absently and clicked the accept button, assuming it was Quinn.
"Hey, Santana!" It wasn't. It was Brittany. I felt myself smile immediately.
"Hey, Britt. What's up?"
I pushed the door open to our dorm, which was empty. Quinn was still gone – but that wasn't strange, she hadn't expected me back for another thirty minutes or so.
"I miss you so much." Brittany said, without preamble. I felt my smile fade a little bit, as I started undressing, trying to manage to take my cardigan off one-handedly.
"I know, Britts," I said, the fabric whirring against the speaker briefly. "I miss you too."
There was a pause. "When are you coming back to Lima?"
I frowned, kicking off my shoes and using the toes of one foot to peel the stocking down. "Maybe this weekend. I'll have to see what Quinn's doing."
Brittany didn't immediately respond, and I pulled my phone away from my face to make sure she was still there. She was. "Britt?"
I could hear her breathing, and it sounded a little like she was crying. "What's wrong?" My voice was quiet and concerned. I was suddenly aware of the ache of Brittany, the constant wound in my heart where she belonged; it wasn't a question of forgetting her, so much as trying to ignore the pain of not being around her. It was better with time and distance. But it never truly went away.
"I quit the Cheerios," Britt said, her voice cracking. I felt my own heart rip a little bit.
"Oh, no, Brittany," I murmured quietly, sitting down on my bed in just a bra and panties. I couldn't take the phone away from my face to put a shirt on, not while Britt was crying on the other line. "Why?"
"Coach Sue tried to shoot me out of a cannon," She sobbed, and I frowned, puzzled.
"What? That bitch is psycho." I shook my head. "So what? You're just in glee club now?"
Brittany hiccoughed on the line, and my fingers slowly opened and closed, wishing I could be there to hold her. "Talk to me, Britt," I said, soothingly.
"Yeah, just glee club. I got slushied today."
I winced, because I knew she'd never been slushied before. Last year, we'd both still worn the armor of the Cheerios outfit, and I had dated Puckerman, and she.. well, she slept around. It kept us immune to the cruelties of the other football players. But now that Britt didn't have me to keep her safe, or the Cheerios, and she was dating that cripple, she had nothing. She was no one. My heart sank.
"I'm so sorry, honey," I said, because I didn't know what else to say. "I wish I could be there. I wouldn't let anyone slushie you."
I heard a noise that indicated Britt was scrubbing her face with some type of fabric, and that she was shifting around on her bed. "I know." Her voice sounded a little stronger now. "I-I also.. well." She paused, hitching in a deep breath. "I need your help with something."
I blinked at the ceiling, using my free hand to rub my eyebrows. "Anything I can do to help you, I will," I told her, honestly.
Just then, Quinn opened the door and then shut it quickly when she realized I was laying pretty much naked on the bed. She lifted an eyebrow in question and I just shook my head slowly.
"I switched to Spanish," Britt basically whispered. My eyes flew open.
"What? I thought you were taking French this semester, with Kurt." My eyebrows knit, worryingly. Wasn't it too late in the semester for her to change classes? How had Mr. Shue agreed to that?
Britt sounded like she was going to start crying again. "I need your help." She choked back a sob.
"Brittany," I murmured, and I could see Quinn tense up from across the room, from her desk where she was sitting and trying to pretend like she didn't hear my conversation. "Why did you do that? Kurt could have helped you pass French."
"I switched because.. because I want to learn how to talk to you." Brittany sobbed. I felt my own face screw up, echoing the pain in her voice that caused my whole chest to collapse. I wanted to curl up in a little ball and cry until I was dry. It was the most awful, terrible feeling, to not to be able to help Brittany. Not to be able to protect her, or to hold her while she cried.
"Brittany, we can talk to each other in English," I said, my voice soft, though my throat was tight with pain.
"No, Santana," Brittany said suddenly, and I was surprised at the conviction in her tone. "We don't talk to each other in English." She paused, and then in quavering, broken Spanish, said, "Te amo."
I pressed the heel of my palm into my eye socket, making white starbursts appear behind my lid. I forced the tears to stay there. "Oh, god, Brittany," I muttered, pressing my fingers against my lips to stop them from trembling. "I love you, too."
Brittany just sobbed quietly into the phone. "Then why don't you talk to me? Why don't you come see me?" She sounded confused and alone. It killed me.
"Britt, I promise," I said, my voice breaking. "I promise I'll come see you more. I'll help you with your Spanish class. It's going to be better from now on."
"I'm so sorry about Artie." She said, and it might have seemed random to an outsider, but I knew the track Britt's mind was on.
"Nothing about this is your fault, Britt," I said, gritting my teeth. I was trying to ward off a break down. "It doesn't have to do with you and Artie.. I'm just.. I'm not there." I didn't know how to explain it to her without it sounding like I was deliberately not talking to her. I really wasn't. Just, things were easier for me if I pretended like Britt was good and happy back in Lima, with her glee friends and her nerdy boyfriend.
"It's not the same without you," Brittany whispered, almost as if she had heard my thoughts. "I'm not happy without you." Oh, god. I felt like someone was taking a screwdriver and gutting me slowly.
"Me either," I said, though it came out funky because I was forcing back tears. "I'm going to do better. I promise."
Brittany seemed to calm down a little bit. I wondered, briefly, just how long she'd been thinking about this.. these sorts of things were not spur of the moment for Brittany. She had to carefully plan out things like switching to a different foreign language class in the middle of the semester. It was probably the stress of Coach Sylvester going all crazy on her, coupled with her first slushie, that made her decide to tell me tonight.
"Who slushied you?" I asked suddenly. Brittany seemed to frown, and I could almost hear the wheels clicking in her brain.
"Azimio."
I nodded. "Okay, Britt. Well I can take care of that." I hoped I could, at least. "And as for Spanish, can you just e-mail me your homework? I'll do it for you and then e-mail it back to you."
Brittany sniffled. "I don't want you to just do it for me. I was serious. I want to learn Spanish." Amusement colored her tone of voice, and I marveled at how quickly she could go from being upset to being perky. "Then we could talk dirty in front of people and nobody would know."
My eyebrows shot up and I turned to face Quinn, though she was sitting with her back to me, unmoving. I wondered if she heard that.
"Uh, yeah, well.." I stuttered, then cleared my throat. "I'll give you lessons on the weekends. Try to pay attention to Mr. Shue, though he's practically retarded." I sighed, sitting up, running a hand through my hair. "I have to go, Britt. I needs to take care of the Azimio situation. But I'll call you tomorrow."
Brittany made a little humming noise in the phone. "And you're going to come to Lima this weekend?"
I shot a glance towards Quinn. "I'll have to let you know."
Brittany seemed disappointed in that. "Well, okay. I love you, Santana."
"I love you, too." I sighed, and closed my eyes, when the phone clicked off.
Quinn was slow to turn around, and when she did face me, I was tapping furiously on my cell phone, in a mass text message aimed to every football player I'd ever slept with, including Noah.
-Hey. I need you to beat the shit out of Azimio. If you do I'll make it worth your while. I paused before pressing SEND. Then I pulled up another blank text and addressed it to Finn, Rachel, and Mike.
-Guys, you have to take better care of Brittany. Keep that Azimio prick away from her. If I find out she's been slushied again, I swear I will ends you.
Frustrated, I slid my phone onto my desk and then flopped backwards with a groan, rubbing my hands into my eyes. This day had been stressful and draining, and now I wanted to get drunk.
Quinn was looking at me with that steady face, the one that was a mask for all her negative feelings, like anger and hurt. I rubbed anxiously at my own forehead, angling my head to look at her.
"I think we need to talk about Brittany." Quinn said into the silence. I shifted, then sat up, looking at her.
"What about her?"
Quinn remained silent for a while, picking over her words. She seemed cold and distant, which put me on edge. I wasn't used to it, anymore.
"Are you in love with her?"
I scowled immediately, picking at my bedspread. "I don't know. I love her," I said, as if that explained it. "I have to take care of her."
Quinn's eyes bored into mine and I fidgeted. I didn't like the look she was giving me. "Okay, but are you in love with her?"
I jerked my shoulder into a shrug. "I don't know, Quinn. Why?"
Quinn's face flinched, and then resettled into that blank mask. "Why do you think?"
I really didn't know. What I did know, was that panic was balling up inside my gut, making me taste copper at the back of my mouth and my heart speed up. What was she asking me? What was she implying?
Quinn studied me frankly, her eyes sweeping over every feature of my face. "You really are clueless, aren't you," She said, with a hint of disdain in her voice.
I felt my hackles rise at her tone, and I scowled at her, jumping up, and then reaching down in my drawer to yank on a t-shirt. I didn't feel comfortable being so exposed in front of her anymore. "Quinn, Brittany isn't your business." My tone was cold and harsh, and I didn't look at her when I said it, just busied myself with trying to find some sleep shorts to put on.
"It kind of is my business," Quinn said slowly and deliberately, "If you plan on sleeping with her again."
I turned around to face her, feeling the anger build in my chest. "Why the fuck does it make a difference to you?"
Quinn met my anger with ice, and that just pissed me off more. "God, Santana, are you an idiot?" She spat. I clenched my palms into fists at my side. "Because, unlike you, I'm not a whore, and I'm not going to be sleeping with someone who is sleeping with someone else."
I felt my own arm jerk out with the instinct to punch her when she spat out the word whore. I had to suck in a deep breath and turn away from her, digging my fingernails into the bed of my palm. I felt them slice into the skin. "Quinn, I thought we had discussed this." I tried to sound even and calm. Instead it came out kind of quavery. "I thought we agreed on non-exclusivity."
I wasn't looking at her, and I was grateful, because I felt like crying and punching her all at once. It was a lot of emotions.
"We did," She muttered, "But that was before.." I heard her shift around on her bed. I waited for her to finish her sentence.
"Nothing," Quinn said on a long breath, and I finally turned to face her. She was laying down on her bed, staring at the ceiling. She sounded defeated now, like the ire had drained out of her. "You're right. We did."
I was confused. I wasn't used to winning arguments like this. And I felt like even though Quinn was agreeing with me, she really, honestly didn't.
I sat down on my own bed cautiously. "I don't know, Quinn." I said awkwardly, laying my palms in my lap. I stared at the crescent-shaped wounds on each palm that slowly oozed red. "I don't have the answers to this. I'm just.." I sighed. "I'm just doing the best I can here, okay?"
Quinn nodded slowly, squeezing her eyes shut tight. It hurt me to watch her struggle to put her walls up, and I felt like crawling in bed beside her and soothing away her pain. But something stopped me, and I just couldn't. I felt stuck to my bed.
She rolled over, facing the wall. "Good night, Santana."
I stared at her back for a long time before I finally reached up and clicked off the lamp that had been on. I shifted into my bed, settling beneath the blankets. It didn't feel right to fall asleep without Quinn.
A/N: So this is my longest chapter yet. I finally have an ending mapped out, and honestly, I don't know if it's one that most of you want. I don't even know if I want it, to be honest, but it's just what's happening. I really have no control over this.. I type and the words spew out and when I'm done, I'm just as surprised as you are to see what's there. That's the truth. I think we can expect between 5-10 more chapters. As always, please review, and I appreciate everyone who's sticking with me through this. :) It's been quite the experience.