Chapter 18 Part 2

I slid into the car and slammed the door behind me. It was barely closed before the driver had launched herself over the center console to wrap me up in a warm hug. I smiled, enveloping my arms around her and inhaling her scent. It smelled like peaches, vanilla, and summer. Don't ask me why – she just always reminded me of summer. When she leaned back I smiled into her blue eyes, and reached up to brush a lock of hair out of her face.

Brittany was grinning, like she had a secret. She's awful at keeping secrets – hello? Remember that fateful hallway conversation? – but even worse at keeping them from me. With a sense of growing dread I glanced around the car, and then let out an audible groan at the occupant who sat, prissily, in the back seat.

"I'll have you know, she made me sit back here the entire ride here," Rachel Berry said, a little distraught. "I kept telling her that I would move when we picked you up, but she insisted." Her tone of voice indicated that she felt entirely put upon.

Brittany laughed, eyeing me, while she reversed out of Atherton's parking lot. I scanned the clumps of students, searching for the telltale glimmer of pink and blonde among those who were taking in the last of the day's light. She was nowhere to be found. I repressed a sigh.

Things were weird between us. I knew it had to do with Brittany, and the very fact that there was an 'us.' I didn't fully understand, though – what exactly did Quinn want from me? For me to stop being Brittany's friend? That would never happen. For me to promise not to sleep with her? But why? That type of promise was full of subtext; and in no way was I ready or willing for that. What, did Quinn think we were in love or something? That I wanted to make lady babies with her? She was crazy. Sex is just sex for me. And I care about Quinn, but we'll never be together.

As if sensing my thoughts, Brittany asked: "Where's Quinn? Doesn't she want to see us?" She slowly braked the car, now jerking her head around in search of the girl.

Even Rachel perked up. "Yes, where is Quinn? I'd like to say hi."

I shrugged. "I think she has a track meet or something." I really didn't know, but I knew she didn't plan on seeing me off, much less making pleasantries with Brittany or Barbara back there.

Brittany let out a little sound that seemed disappointed, and even Rachel huffed a bit, crossing her arms in her lap. I glanced at her in the rearview, narrowing my eyes. I couldn't help but remember that confession Quinn made to me our first night at Atherton – that she'd gotten drunk and made out with Schnozz. I pressed my lips into a thin smile, thinking about all the torture I could put her through, if I hadn't sworn to keep it to myself.

I glanced back to Britt, who was humming to herself and bopping up and down in the seat. I was only a little worried about her driving out here for five hours straight, but I was a lot worried about her driving back for five hours straight. She wasn't the most attentive driver, and that may be an understatement. Generally, Britt scared the living shit out of me when she was behind the wheel. I don't even know how she legitimately passed her driver's test.

"Uh, Britt," I said, cautiously. I pretended to check my make up in the visor mirror, trying to seem casual. "If you want, I'll drive us back.. give you a little break.."

Brittany whipped her head over to glare at me, narrowing her eyes. Rachel, seeming alarmed, looked between the two of us quickly. "I can drive," Brittany muttered, petulantly.

I smiled at her my most warming smile, hoping it would put her off guard. "I know, sweetie. But you've gotta be tired of it by now. Does your foot hurt?"

Brittany cocked her head, thinking about it. I was on the verge of a little inner victory dance when Brittany brightened up. "Nope!" She said, grinning.

I had to swallow my groan. This was going to be a long five hours.

I was right in predicting Rachel would do nothing but bitch the entire damn ride. I wanted to slam my head against the glass of the window, over and over and over again. Rachel Berry and I are not friends, not even close. I think my most positive memory of her is that day at sectionals, when everyone accused me and Britt of leaking the set list to Coach Sue. I had admitted, then, that glee club was the best part of my day, and I wasn't deliberately going to sabotage it. I didn't think anyone believed me. But Rachel did. I tried to stop thinking bad things about her, at that point, but she just made it so damn hard. I mean, I've never met anybody as genuinely unlikeable as Rachel Berry, and that's coming from me.

Brittany was enough of a barrier for the first few hours, but by the time ten o'clock rolled around, even she was cranky. Rachel seemed to think that the absence of Brittany's bright chatter invited her incessant nattering.

"Your campus looks very impressive," Rachel sniffed, shifting in the back seat. "I can't say I blame you for wanting to attend that school. Is their show choir any, uh, good?"

I rolled my eyes. She was terrible at digging for information. "Yeah, the director has won their sectionals and regionals almost every year for the last few. But I don't think we've ever beat out Vocal Adrenaline at nationals." I shrugged. I didn't care if Rachel knew these things. "And, dwarf, I didn't voluntarily go to that damn school. My dad made me."

Rachel seemed distracted now. "Oh, really? Do you think you will compete against us at regionals this year?"

I shrugged. "How should I know, Yentil? It depends on how they draw the regional lines. We're close enough to Pennsylvania that we might be lumped in with one of their regions."

"How is Quinn adapting to the new school?" Rachel asked, and my eyes flew open. It was such an abrupt change of subject I almost got whiplash.

"Uh, fine, I guess." I rolled my shoulders defensively, settling my arms across my stomach and glaring out at the black highway. Brittany was eerily quiet. I kept checking her to make sure she was still awake, and she was, but she was definitely in the zone.

"I'm kind of worried about her," Rachel said, tentatively. I narrowed my eyes.

"She's fine, Rachel."

"Well she doesn't seem fine," Rachel said arrogantly. I had to clench my teeth. "She hardly speaks to any of us anymore.. and just because you don't go to McKinley anymore, doesn't mean we aren't all still friends," She hesitated, "that we aren't all still family."

I groaned. "Kill me, please," I muttered. I hated it when Rachel went all sappy like this.

Brittany shifted in the seat next to me, sending me a tired smile, and then reached down and brushed her pinkie against the side of my forearm. I smiled, unfolding my arms and twining our pinkies together. Something about that just felt right; like the world shifted, and everything was brighter and more in focus. Like I hadn't even known I was walking around half-blind until now.

"Santana, despite your objections, you know that it's true," Rachel blathered on, oblivious. "Quinn is withdrawing from everyone. It worries me."

I rolled my eyes. "If you're so worried about your little girlfriend, why don't you call her or something? Why don't you spend the weekend with her?" I hadn't really meant to say 'girlfriend,' but once it was out of my mouth there was no taking it back. I noticed, suddenly, that it felt a little stifling in the car. Brittany had tensed up beside me, and Rachel froze. I glanced between the two of them, frowning. What the fuck was that all about?

Britt squeezed my pinkie before letting go, returning both hands to the wheel. I felt colder without her arm right next to me, and I rubbed my right palm absently over the goosebumps that rose up on my arm.

"I have been really busy lately, I can't just go cavorting off into the middle of nowhere for an entire weekend," Rachel said, with less conviction.

I snorted. "Rachel, please don't delude yourself. Your 'myspace video blog' does not constitute a 'busy life,'" I made air quotes in the appropriate places, disdain dripping from my tone. "You talk a good game, Man Hands, but you can't walk the walk. Worried about Quinn? Then do something about it." I shifted. "Not as if you have anything to worry about. Quinn is doing fine. We spend every day together."

Rachel seemed curious at that. "How does she seem to you?"

I shrugged, glancing back outside the window. The truth was, for the last few days, Quinn had been withdrawn and distant. She hadn't been as pissed off at me as she seemed that one day, and she came back and started sleeping in our dorm again. She was civil to me, but the warmth was gone. There hadn't been any casual touches or inside jokes, and certainly no sleeping in the same bed. It hurt me in an indescribable way, but I felt like it was my fault, somehow. I still didn't fully understand why or how, or what I'd done to put us at such odds. It made me feel awkward and lonely, even though we still spent all of our free time together.

"She's a big kid, Berry," I said, finally. "She's fine." I didn't know why I was so defensive of Quinn. I didn't even know, for sure, that she was fine. I hoped she was.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, we were pulling up in front of the Berry house. Rachel unfolded herself from the backseat and gave a massive stretch, groaning, and then leaned down next to my window. I rolled my eyes, slapping my hand on the button that rolled the window down. "I know I'm irresistible, Frodo, but –"

Rachel scowled. "Thanks for inviting me, Brittany," She interrupted, ignoring me completely and flashing Britt a warm smile. "I had fun singing Mmbop with you." She spun on her heel and then clicked determinedly up her driveway towards her front door.

I turned to Britt with a perplexed look. "Mmbop? Brittany, I thought I taught you better than that," It came out more tired than I had expected.

Britt flashed me a sheepish smile and rolled the car into drive.

When we made it back to Britt's house, something weird happened. It was like we'd barely been able to keep our eyes open on the last hour and half of the drive, but once her car was parked and we stretched, we were hit with a surge of adrenaline. I think it's called teenage girl phenomena, where whenever two girls in their teens get together they're overtaken by insatiable giggling and strange nocturnal behavior.

In her bedroom, I reclined against her headboard, watching her as she flung clothes out of her closet. She'd decided now – at around 2 a.m. – would be a good time to organize her wardrobe. It made me smile, because it was so Brittany. I'd missed this between us, this simplicity and the zany randomness that was inherently her. She was digging around with the door open, and I could hear shoe boxes and other debris clatter around inside.

"Hey, Britt?" I said casually, toying with my cell phone. "Do you believe in soul mates?"

There was a dull crash and a grunt before Britt poked her head out of the closet. "What, you mean like in checkers when you're about to win?"

I paused, frowning. Then I nodded. "Oh, no, that's checkmate, and it's in chess—"

Britt flashed me a bright grin. "I'm joking. I know what soul mates are."

I laughed softly, watching as she drug out an armload of shoe boxes and dumped them unceremoniously on the floor by the foot of the bed. "That's kinda like us, right?" She said, cocking her head, studying the giant pile of shoes.

I shrugged. "Well, kind of. We're like best friend soul mates. I meant the kind that happen between people in love.. like Jack and Rose."

"I'll never let go, Jack!" Brittany said dramatically, striking a sudden pose and gripping at the air. It had me chuckling.

Britt smiled at me, but then turned back to her disheveled pile of shoes, picking through several pairs before she held up strappy heels, dangling them triumphantly. "I knew these were here somewhere." She muttered with satisfaction, and then kicked at the pile with her own foot. She turned to study me, tilting her head. "You don't think two girls can be soul mates?"

I glanced up at her sharply, and then back down at my cell phone. I wasn't doing anything on it, just scrolling through my Twitter feed over and over again, because I had nothing else to do with myself. "Uh, I think they can if they're gay," I said, shifting uncomfortably. I suddenly regretted even bringing this up.

Brittany hummed a little bit, that speculative noise she made whenever she knew she was going to have to tread carefully with me. It always made me tense, though with Britt it was like a shot in the dark about what she considered a sensitive subject. She crawled onto the bed and sat down directly across from me. "I don't think it matters if you're a boy or a girl," She said sagely, and the direct way she was staring at me made my heart feel heavy in my chest. I suddenly felt like I couldn't breathe. "I think your soul doesn't pay attention to things like that. I've even heard of people having soul mates in buildings, and once a cow," Brittany was nodding soberly, as if these facts were not at all troubling.

I laughed, nudging her with my toes. "Okay, well, I don't think people can honestly fall in love with cows," I grinned at her. "Unless you're trying to tell me something about you and Tubbs.."

Brittany's eyes widened suddenly and she took in a deep breath. "What! Me and Lord Tubbington.." she trailed off, then looked away, studying the carpet. My own face constricted into a look of surprise, anticipating that Brittany was about to drop a giant bombshell on me. "Nope!" Brittany decided, grinning. "We're too different. See, he supports the Tea Party." Brittany scrunched her face into a look of confusion. "I'm a democrat."

I laughed, the deep, belly laugh that makes your abs hurt and your cheeks sore. Brittany grinned and giggled along with me.

I watched her, and I was suddenly struck by the memory of the weird moment in the car between her and Rachel. I narrowed my eyes. "Hey, Britt.. I know this is an insane question.."

Brittany bit her lip and nodded at me.

I sucked in a tense breath and then huffed it out. "Uh, there's nothing going on between you and Berry, is there?"

Brittany's face gave it away, though I didn't want to believe it at first. She looked absolutely paralyzed, her lips crumpled into her mouth, her ears and face flushing to a hot pink color. My own eyebrows shot up incredulously. "There is? Between you and Rachel?" I couldn't comprehend it.

Brittany ducked her head. "It just happened once. Right after you left."

I bit back a small laugh. "She is such a lesbian, oh my god," I breathed.

Brittany scowled a little bit. "I don't think she's gay," and then she shrugged and let out a huge sigh. "I'm sorry."

"Why didn't you tell me?" I couldn't figure out if the shake in my voice was due to me trying to repress a laugh or if I was angry. Probably not angry. The idea of anyone getting down with Rachel Berry is kind of absurd, but Brittany? My Brittany? I shook my head.

Britt winced. "She begged me to keep it a secret."

I laughed again. "That's just crazy. Who knew Berry was a carpet muncher. I bet she gets it from her gay dads."

Brittany didn't look happy at the words I was saying, but she couldn't stop herself from chuckling along with my tone. "It's not nice to say she's gay if she isn't," Britt told me solemnly, her eyebrows furrowed.

I shrugged. I knew about Rachel and Quinn, too – so now that was strike two for Dopey Dwarf. I ignored the fact that by the same logic, then both Britt and I were probably raging homos too. Oh, wait, except for the little fact that we both slept with men, too – and as far as I knew, Rachel hadn't even caught a glimpse of the hose beast.

I smirked at Britt now, amused. "So that means she cheated on Finn with you?" Oh, god, this was too rich, too funny. I couldn't wait to spill to – well, everyone.

Brittany's eyes went wide. "Santana, you can't tell anybody! She begged me. It was kinda my fault," Brittany said the last part of the sentence in a whisper. "I mean, I don't think she would have ever.. you know.. if I hadn't.."

I laughed again. "Britt, it takes two to tango. No matter how mortified Berry is of this little scandal, it doesn't mean she's not responsible."

Brittany lowered her eyebrows at me. "Santana, Rachel never told anyone about you," She said in a low tone.

I tensed up, arching a brow at her. "And how would she know about me, Britt? Unless you told her?"

Brittany shrugged. "I don't know, okay? I never did. But that night she told me she always knew about us. And she never told."

I huffed out a breath. "Britt, everyone kind of knows about us. I mean, for god's sake, we make out at every party we're at together. Plus Puck spread that rumor about us having a threesome.." I jerked my shoulder in a shrug. "It's not the same. Rachel pretends to be perfect. This is so gonna knock her down a peg." I smiled darkly at the thought.

Brittany was looking at me with her sad eyes, the ones that twisted me into knots. "It's not nice to tell people's secrets, Santana," Brittany murmured. "Especially if you have some of your own you don't want told."

I studied Brittany, feeling a chill rise over my body. "Are you, like, threatening me, Britt?"

Britt's body jerked as if my words had slapped her. "What! No!" She seemed surprised, and she shook her head emphatically. "I'm just saying, it's like the law or something. You have a secret." Brittany used her thumb to gesture to herself. "Rachel has the same secret." She paused, as if her own sentences had confused her, and then frowned. "But, if neither of you tell, then nobody gets hurt by the secret. See?"

I rolled my eyes. "Brittany, your logic is flawed. Because this secret of mine is no big deal. I already told you, everyone knows that we make out and I think most of them realize we've hooked up.. just.. gah, please, Brittany!" I threw my hands up. "Let me tell somebody about this! Hamburgler Finn would flip out! Have you ever seen an elephant cry? It would be epic."

Brittany was shaking her head before I'd even finished my sentence. "Usually I wouldn't care if people know about me having sex with somebody," She said stoically, "But Rachel made me promise. She's a good friend."

I scowled, picking at the bedspread beneath me. "Fine. I guess. But I'm so saving it for a rainy day."

Brittany angled her head at me. "Besides, you do have secrets, Santana," She said quietly, and my eyes whipped up to meet hers.

I shrugged, because I knew it was true. But then I smiled. "You know what that means, though, right?" Britt just looked at me. "You're everybody's dirty little secret."

Britt grinned at me.

I eyed the door to my house warily, as if it were the den of a bloodthirsty mythological beast. It was deceptively peaceful, a calm face showed to the world. I wasn't looking forward to this, but I needed to get my car. I was tired of relying on Quinn and Brittany to drive me around. I checked the time again, nervously, because I knew my dad was still at work. My mom's car was in the driveway, though, so I knew I'd have to see her.

I'd walked the six blocks from Britt's house to mine, because she was getting ready for the Hudson/Hummel wedding. She'd tried, again, to get me to come with her – even going so far as to call Kurt on the phone right in front of me and ask him if I could come – but I still refused. Britt was mad, but I knew I couldn't do it. She didn't understand why I was willing to make out with her at random parties, but refused to be seen in a formal setting as her official date. It was the nuances that Brittany was blind to.

With a fortifying sigh, I heaved myself up the steps that led to my stoop, and then turned the knob and pushed the door open. It wasn't locked – it almost never was. I glanced around, noting that the house was eerily quiet – no music, no mutter of the television or hum of the vacuum. Danika must have today off. I inhaled the scent, which was furniture polish and the subtle undertones of spicy food, which was baked into the couches and never truly went away. As apprehensive as I'd been, I had missed my house. I missed my mother and even my father's gruff voice and the way his mustache would quiver whenever anyone mentioned something bad about his favorite baseball team.

"Mami?" I called, and began wandering towards the back of the house towards the kitchen and the screened in sun room.

"Mom—" I said again, pushing the door open to the sun room blindly. There was a muffled gasp and a grunt, and I stood there, rooted in spot by what I saw.

There she was – my mother, naked on the shag rug, with Julio, our pool boy, rolling off of her. I caught a glimpse of his rippled back and clenched buttocks before I registered what was going on and then slammed my eyes shut, as if that immediate denial could wash away the scene I'd just witnessed.

"Oh, shit," I said, and then backpedaled, shutting the door with a solid snap. I turned around and bolted, skidding along the expensive Pervuian rugs that scattered along the flawless mahogany floor. I took the stairs two at a time, racing up into my bedroom, where I shut the door behind me and then sat, breathing heavily, on the edge of my bed.

My hands shook slightly as I lifted them to smooth out my hair, patting it down reflexively. I fought back the hot flood of tears that wanted to escape from my eyeballs, though they were a knee jerk reaction, really. I wasn't entirely surprised that my mother was cheating on my father – but with Julio? He's, like, eighteen. And not even that cute, or else I would have slept with him a long time ago, when he first came on to me. I shuddered at the thought, and then pushed it away.

I sat up suddenly, and then began to gather a few things that I knew I was missing from Atherton. My room felt shut up and stuffy, because nobody but Danika had been up here since my exile. Everything was neatly in its place, thanks to the cleaning lady. I had wanted to spend the night here tonight, snuggled into my own bed and surrounded by the sounds and smells of my own house, but I knew that that plan was ruined. I couldn't stay here with that image hanging heavy on my mind.. I couldn't sit with my father and eat tamales while my mother looked across at him, knowing. I couldn't pretend that our family wasn't broken, at least not anymore.

I shoved the items I'd picked up clumsily in a bag, and then I searched for my car keys. I usually left them on my dresser right by my door, but Danika always – aha, there. She'd hung them up on a peg directly next to my dresser. My hand was steady now as it reached out to pick up the keys.

I walked back downstairs with purpose, keeping my eyes trained on the door. I planned to go directly outside and then approach our garage that way, instead of cutting through the laundry room. I didn't want to risk running into Mom or Julio.

She swept into the living room, wrapped in a silk robe with tropical trees and sunsets depicted on it. She'd had the frame of mind to tame her hair into a messy pony tail, but she hadn't bothered to fix her smeared makeup. I stopped on the stairwell, staring down at her. She looked up at me.

"What are you doing here, mija?" She asked softly, with something like resignation in her dark eyes.

I lifted my shoulder in a shrug, took another step. "I came home this weekend. My friend's parents are getting married and I was invited." It was an easy lie. It made me wonder if it was so easy for her to lie to me. "I wanted to surprise you and Papa.."

My mother nodded, then let out an almost silent sigh. "Tu padre will not appreciate you disobeying him by coming home," She said, though her words were neutral. "Still, it is good to see you, hija. You're so skinny." Her face cracked into a smile that was fake warmth, the lines around her eyes not even once crinkling with mirth.

I had to repress a sneer, my palms clutching at the overnight bag I had in my hands. "Well, I'm not staying long enough to wake the dragon," I told her, and then took the rest of the steps in quick succession. The weight of her gaze followed me, and I took the last few steps up to the door. "I'm taking my car back to Atherton. If you don't tell him, I bet he won't notice," I wondered if she recognized the irony dripping from my tone.

I almost opened the door and swept outside, away from her, but I caught the pain in her eyes. It was there for a moment, fleeting, and then it disappeared behind a wall of submission. I had always been too strong-willed for my mother, too wild, too hot tempered. She'd dreamt of a delicate daughter who loved satin dresses and playing tea party, who wanted ballets and romance and soft society life. Instead she'd gotten me – hard-hitting, defensive, angry, with a mouth like a sailor. As a child I'd disdained her soft sequin gowns and powdered hands, instead preferring to wrestle in the mud with my cousins or play monster trucks. Too much like my father. Right now, I think I preferred it that way, though part of me ached for the connection between us that we should have had.

I could never win, could I? I wasn't the boy that my father wanted, so he ignored me, no matter how much 'like him' I was. Nor was I the gentle daughter my mother craved. Instead I was this – this girl with too many harsh angles and too much fire, but not enough heart. I always felt like this when I interacted with them, feeling my inadequacies sharply, dodging the accusations and judgment that shot from my parents like arrows. Something about the way she was looking at me stopped me, though, and I rounded on her.

She was clutching her hands in front of her, and the sheepishness and the shame I saw etched in her features disgusted me. I felt the wall of anger that I'd been studiously repressing build inside me, but I clamped it down. With fury on my face, I stomped towards her, and pulled her into a rough hug. She seemed surprised, and had cowered almost as if she'd expected me to hit her – but I didn't, and before she realized what was happening I was shoving myself away from her and then I opened the door, slamming it shut behind me.

There were too few hugs between my mother and I, and even though I didn't approve of her thing with Julio, I was trying to let her know that I didn't hate her because of it. I understood, a little bit. Or at least I think I did.

A/N: Don't crucify me because this is basically a Brittana chapter. All of this is happening for a reason.

Also, I really appreciate everyone's sympathy for my brother & my family. He's physically okay.