Phew! This is the longest chapter yet! Didn't actually get around to going too in depth into the musical part of things but I feel like I covered some more important things!
I hope you enjoy it! This has probably been the hardest chapter to write and I feel like after you read it I'll have some explaining to do so look out for my note at the end!
The interest is still continuing which is great! Remember to review! Even just naming a fave line or something coz it inspires me so much!
Ch 10: Your Own Kind
"Mmm, Santana I like you in the red one." Santana held the dress up against herself.
"Yeah?" She took his words with a grain of salt, this was the 5th time Artie had changed his mind. He had his hand curled around his mouth, his index finger slanted over his top lip like a moustache and his eyebrows pulled so low they were in danger of pushing his glasses down his nose.
"Uhh...Wait. Hold up the black again." Santana rolled her eyes and obeyed.
From beside her, Rachel opened her mouth to put in her equivalent of two-cents worth in. "Personally, I think the red. It really highlights the violence and passion and bitterness that Anita goes through and it would act as an excellent foreshadowing device for the rest of the play. Not to mention it really plays up the motif of bloodshed and her Puerto Rican background." She shrugged, "but of course that is just the lowly opinion of your lead actress and a girl who spent her entire 9th grade summer break storyboarding her own one person production of West Side Story."
"Uh," Artie paused, and Rachel jerked her head up with another idea. The wide intensity in her eyes disturbed Santana and was reminiscent of those creepy twins on The Shining. If Rachel began croaking "Redrum" Santana would know it was time to threaten her with an exorcist again.
Rachel walked over and plucked a white dress from her own pile of potential costumes. She held it up against herself and then gestured back and forth between herself and Santana.
"Red is also the perfect contrast to Maria's white. Maria is innocent and far more optimistic than Anita. Plus, there is the virginal aspect of the character…"
"No, no." Artie shook his head. "I mean, yes Rachel I agree with the whole naïve thing and it is a good contrast. But," he rolled himself closer. "Just so we're clear, the whole thing I said about virginity yesterday still stands. I want a Tony-loving Maria, not a Chastity-belt wearing Maria. Ain't no nuns up in herrr…"
Santana cringed as he performed the gangsta attitude finger flick.
"That is very rich coming from you Arnie Grape," she scoffed.
"Firstly Santana, I'm a film buff which means that I can smell a badly applied film reference from a mile off. To begin with, your comparison of me with Arnie Grape is flawed from its premise as he is mentally disabled whereas I am physically disabled. Also, my mother does not need a forklift to help her out of bed. I will however take the compliment of being likened to Leonardo DiCaprio. And lastly, I can indeed talk about sex- I'm not a virgin." He puffed his chest up a little in pride. Santana raised her eyebrows in surprise.
"Aw, yay for you Cripple Pants. Who climbed aboard and took a wild ride on that wheelchair roller coaster of love?" She tilted her head and smiled, expecting to get some sort of rise- amused or otherwise- out of Artie. Instead he looked suddenly awkward and slid his eyes to the floor. Santana frowned in confusion and looked to Rachel who was fiddling with her hands, shooting Artie furtive glances.
For a spilt second Santana felt a creeping horror at the thought that Rachel and Artie had gotten their freak on. But then she realised that she was very wrong. She wasn't quick enough to stop Rachel's next words and she fought the impulse to cover her ears and 'la-la-la' her way through the information she'd just realised was coming. The information she should have known all along.
"Uh, I believe that if Brittany is a reliable source it was...Brittany," Rachel said.
"I know it was," Santana snapped.
"But you said…"
Santana cut across Rachel. "Duh. I was just demonstrating how completely surprising it is that someone would actually do him."
"But you said…" Rachel tried again, frowning at her.
"Oh. My. God. Can you just stop acting like a freaking Dictaphone? I mean I'm flattered that you commit all my words to memory but I don't need a play-by-play of everything that comes out of my mouth."
"But…"
"Jesus!" Santana threw her hands up. "Turns out you're more like cancer than I thought- you just keep on finding ways new ways to piss us all off." Santana dropped the black dress on the stage floor and swung the red one in Artie's face.
"I'm going to try this one on okay? Executive decision being made right here and be thankful it's just a decision on my dress because I'm almost, almost angry enough to put you in the black dress and Rachel in a Teletubbies costume. And believe me when I tell you that neither of you would be in any state to object." She whipped around and strode to the back of the stage where a make-shift curtained changing room had been erected.
Once she was covered by the curtain she physically sank. Her knees bent and her shoulders hunched forwards. She curled her arms around her churning stomach and tried to steady her breathing. She had no idea why she was upset, nor why it wouldn't have occurred to her that Brittany had slept with Artie. Brittany threw sex to boys like you'd throw a tennis ball at a dog. But Santana had just assumed...What had she assumed? She'd assumed that he didn't work down there. But then she'd assumed that stealing Brittany from him would have been as easy as out-running Lauren Zizes. Turns out Santana had been wrong on both counts.
She took so long to get dressed that when she stepped out of the changing room she saw that the rest of the cast had assembled in the auditorium for their own costume run through. Grouped nearest her were Quinn, Mike, Tina and some football players she recognised from parties.
"You look awesome Santana," Tina smiled politely.
"A devil in a red dress," Quinn agreed softly.
"Thanks," Santana muttered, lifting the dress up above her ankles so she could step over the clusters of bags and back over to Rachel and Artie. Rachel had on her white dress and Santana was surprised to see it was actually flattering. Santana walked closer, preparing an insult-mingled apology to Rachel when she caught sight of Brittany and Rory standing behind Artie. Rory had his head bent close to Brittany, saying something to her that made her laugh and shake her head. Santana stumbled on the hem of her dress. At the sound, all four of them looked around at her. She righted herself, pretending as always that she wasn't self-conscious but Brittany's gaze stood out in her peripheral vision.
Rachel was looking her up and down. "Well Santana, despite your obvious aversion to my opinion in general I'm just going to go ahead and say that I think you stand in perfect contrast to my Maria."
"Lookn' fine Lopez!" Puck said as he waltzed onto the stage, curving his lips around a low whistle.
Santana smirked and gave him the fingers. Then she turned back to Rachel.
"Thanks. I'll try my best not to upstage you."
"You may have to get those removed if you're gunna try that," Puck grinned, nodding at Santana's chest.
"Go abuse yourself over them where no one can see you," she shoved him playfully then turned to Artie. "So R2D2, can I take this off now? You happy?"
Artie wheeled himself closer, looking mildly afraid that she'd addressed him.
"It's-it's all good Santana. You're done now."
She nodded and went to turn away when she caught Brittany's gaze. It roamed over her body, lingering at all the places the dress clung to. Resentment coiled in her chest and released like a spring when she saw Brittany looking at her that way. She was so angry at Brittany and she couldn't even say why. The fact that Brittany had been someone elses wasn't a good enough reason, Santana knew. But it didn't stop her blood boiling at the thought. Feeling tears mounting, she smiled vaguely around at everyone and headed back to the changing room with her head down. Once inside she tugged the dress off herself harshly, putting her normal clothes back on as her face began to screw up against the tears. She tried to compose herself, pressing the pads of her thumbs against her eyes. She still had half a day left at school and she did not need her make up turning her into an abused Panda.
Someone tugged at her curtain.
"Santana?" She lifted her face to the sound and froze. She didn't recognise the voice but it could have been Brittany's. Had she been able to see that Santana was upset?
"It's Quinn. Are you nearly done with the changing room? Sugar's in the other one."
"Uh yup," Santana called in a wavering voice. She sniffed. "Just about."
She bundled the dress around the coat hanger and swept the curtain open, brushing quickly past Quinn and choosing the most deserted path to exit the stage. She didn't even return the dress to the stands like she was supposed to, she'd just keep it in her locker until the next rehearsal. Santana kept her head down when she reached the student swarm in the hallway and aimed for her locker, shoving a weedy kid wearing a fedora out of the way as she went. When she reached her locker she saw white Cheerios sneakers that matched her own standing beside it. She looked up. Brittany stood grinning at her.
"You took the long way to your locker so I beat you here."
"You did." Santana agreed, fumbling with her locker combination. It was awkward with one hand and she messed up the combination.
Brittany's hands were warm and sure as they reached past her own and twisted in the correct one, unclicking the lock and pulling the door open. Santana, still unable to look her fully in the face, nodded vaguely over her shoulder. "Thanks."
"No problem," Brittany said brightly, stepping back to let Santana shove the dress into her locker. She drew the books she needed for the next period out and bumped it closed with her hip. Brittany reached back helpfully to attach the lock again.
"Thanks," Santana muttered again, turning from the locker and walking away. She felt propelled to get away from the hall, and the crowd and all the undercurrents between she and Brittany that people could surely feel threading around them. Santana's grip on her composure was tenuous, and she felt her anger loaded in her chest- dark and heavy. She needed her car. She needed the press of silence around her. She heard footsteps matching pace with her own and she knew they were Brittany's.
As if knowing, Brittany said nothing, just followed her out of the double doors and down the steps to the car. Santana unlocked it and slid inside, pressing her forehead to the steering wheel. The car shifted slightly as Brittany sat down in the passenger seat and edged the door closed. She placed one hand on Santana's back, rubbing circles.
"Have you got a Berry-Migraine again?"
"Something like that."
"Hmmm, I don't have any vodka this time. That's what you took last time to make you feel better right?"
"Think it was whiskey," Santana mumbled. Now that she thought about, her head was throbbing and her neck felt heavy and stiff. She wanted to go home and sleep, what with school, the Trouble Tones, the Cheerios and the musical Santana felt like she was merely being swept along by a heavy tide. Maybe that was why she lost her grip on her feelings so easily. Usually she had them reigned in tightly against her but lately they'd been slipping from her fingers, running riot. She could hardly blame Brittany for that. Especially not when Brittany took so much care around her. Brittany put the pads up around the things Santana smashed down, just so she wouldn't cut her knuckles.
Santana let out long breath and then turned so her cheek was against the wheel. Brittany was looking at her, her eyebrows slightly furrowed over her eyes. Her hand still made circles in between Santana's shoulder blades.
Santana couldn't help but wonder if Brittany had done this to Artie. Then her mind drifted over the thing she'd been trying especially hard not to think about. How had they even managed to have sex? Did he just lie beneath her like a dummy? Santana would bet he hadn't lasted long at all on their first time. She bet it was nothing like her first time with Brittany. They'd been young and clumsy but Santana remembered Brittany's moans, Brittany's eagerness, Brittany's jarring finish. She held that night up above the others, because it was like a first breath or a first smile. It was like opening your eyes for the first time- natural but cataclysmic.
"Britt."
"Mmm?"
"What do you remember about our first time?"
"The first time we stole your neighbours Vogue subscription from her letter box?" Santana laughed at the memory, but shook her head.
"No the first time that we did stuff."
"Oh!" Brittany chuckled at her mistake. "Hmm, not much." She bit her lip and turned her eyes out of windscreen. "We were…"
"Pretty drunk, yeah I know." Santana finished, sitting up and looking with Britt out the window. They could see the field from here, and the bleachers dotted with students eating their lunch.
"I remember you kissed me first."
Santana snorted. "You didn't complain."
Brittany wasn't fazed. "Why would I? You tasted like Berry Burst lollipops and Gin."
"Always a winning combination," Santana grinned.
"Uhuh. And...oh," Brittany expelled air out of her nose and grinned, "I remember feeling like I was going to get sick but you were kissing me and I was too afraid you'd stop so I didn't tell you."
Santana raised her eyebrows and turned to stare at Brittany. "Really?"
Brittany twitched and rubbed her nose, nodding. "Really, really."
"That's a little gross," Santana laughed.
"I took my chances. And it worked out okay so," she shrugged. Santana laughed, nodding in agreement, then became solemn as she recognised the window had opened up to ask what she really wanted to.
"You and Artie…When you were dating you guys..." She hesitated. Brittany tilted her head expectantly. "You guys had sex right?"
Brittany nodded, the skin between her eyebrows creasing.
Santana bit her lip. "Would you be honest with me if I asked you something about that?"
Brittany jerked her head back, frowning down her nose. "I'm always honest," she said. "I've forgotten how to lie...It's all too complicated. Like long addition."
"Okay, good. Was it...was I...was our…" Santana shook her head, compressing her lips. She mentally tested a few different phrasings while Brittany continued to look at her attentively. "Was our first time...and your first with him...which was better?"
Brittany's eyes trailed over her face, Santana had to force herself not to look away. She searched for a flicker of emotion, a dulling in Britt's eye- anything that would indicate Brittany did know how to lie.
"Santana, of all the questions I could answer, you ask the most boring one. I was expecting like, was it as skinny as his legs? Or, why did he once make you wear a Princess Leia dress? Or, was it awkward that time he cried when you went down-"
"Wow, okay, okay." Santana held her hand up. Brittany stopped speaking and Santana shook her head, trying to scatter the images that she'd just gotten in her mind. She was going to need therapy after that. "I'll just take the answer to my question thanks."
Brittany shrugged. "Your loss I guess. And the answer is mine and yours."
Santana felt something warm spill through her. "Why was our better?" She heard the sharp angles of pride in her own voice and saw that Brittany must have caught them too because she smiled knowingly.
"Because you gave me funny tingles all over and you were mean but nice all at once and it was confusing and made my head spin and I was drunk so it all mixed together and I felt like I was flying. With Artie...I mean when we first did it I was still all mad at you coz you sung with Mercedes and shook your lady parts in my face and made me feel sad and so I did it to stop thinking about you but it didn't work and I ended up thinking about you too much and then I said your name because I forgot his."
Santana's jaw literally dropped.
"No frigging way. You said my name?" Brittany batted a hand at her.
"Stop looking at me like that!" She exclaimed. Santana felt a balloon of smugness welling inside her chest. Suddenly she wanted to go and hug the poor bastard. How embarrassing. No wonder he was awkward about telling Santana. She began to laugh while Brittany pouted at her. She was grinning like a maniac, and Brittany began to laugh too, turning away and shaking her head.
The back door of the car opened and Santana jumped.
Quinn slid onto the back seat.
"Hey guys," She smiled, looking windswept. Santana and Brittany shifted around in their seats to see her better, both still half laughing.
"Hi," Brittany said. Quinn folded her hands onto her lap and looked between them.
"What's so funny?"
"Santana and I were just talking about the first time we…."
Santana went cold, and she cut hurriedly over Brittany. "T-the first time we got drunk." Quinn was looking bemusedly at her and Santana realised that she must look like she'd just crapped her spankies. She rearranged her features in a casual smile.
"What with all this time spent with Berry I've found I need some hard liquor to keep me from killing her."
"Trust me, I know all about that," Quinn said lightly.
"Well then, I'll bring something with a bite for tomorrow's rehearsal," Santana assured her.
"Actually, that's why I'm here. Artie wanted me to tell you Britt that you've got to go to his place tomorrow evening instead of the auditorium."
"Uh," Santana frowned, her face heating in annoyance. "Just Brittany? Why just Brittany?" Quinn frowned.
"No," she said slowly. "Not just Brittany. Me and the others have been asked over as well."
"Oh." Santana felt her stomach drop. She wanted to ask why she wasn't included but she didn't trust her voice. And Brittany beat her to it.
"How come Santana isn't needed?"
Quinn shrugged. "She was the only one that managed to sort her costume I'm guessing. No one else did and that's why we're going to Arties- someone has already booked the auditorium." Santana swallowed resentment, trying not to let it choke her with tears.
"Rachel sorted hers didn't she? Is she going?"
Quinn rolled her eyes.
"She was the one who suggested it so I'm guessing so."
Brittany was frowning, chewing on her lip. "I'm going to have to reschedule my guest appearance at the Highland Dance Group meeting."
"There's a Highland dancing group at McKinley?" Quinn asked in surprise.
"Yahuh. They performed at assembly not too long ago. At first I thought they were Scientologists and I was afraid of them but I did some research and turns out that it's just some Scottish dancing tradition not a Scientology recruitment ceremony. So I'm going to befriend them and get them to vote for me for Senior Class President. I'm going to promise to provide highlands for them to dance in if they vote for me."
/
This is jst getting worse. Finn is here and Tina cried coz Sugar told her that she blames her and her country for the death of Free Willy. :(((((
Santana clicked reply to Brittany's message.
Finn's there? I thought it was just cast members? And tell Sugar that Tina isn't Japanese so she can't be blamed for the Whales. She may have had something to do with Lassie's death though. .
She clicked send and flopped over onto her stomach, leaning her cheek on the headrest of the couch. On her TV screen Chandler and Joey were beating Monica and Rachel in game that Ross had made up. Rachel had just messed up the name of Chandler's profession.
"THAT'S NOT EVEN A WORD," Monica screeched. It amused Santana but she didn't crack a smile. Whenever re-runs of Friends were on Santana took it as a sign from God that she should blob on the couch. Tonight however the fact that she had no choice sort of put a dampener on things. The reality that the only person who wanted to spend time with her was busy with a whole bunch of people who didn't appreciate her presence was sort've kicking Santana in the gut right now. She checked her cell phone for the time.
7.14 p.m. Four minutes since she'd last checked. Jesus. She huffed a sigh and scrolled through her contacts, looking for someone who she could hang out with that wouldn't want to make her tear off her fingernails. She got to 'M' and paused, her eyes hovering on Mercedes name. Figuring it'd be better than nothing she hit the call button.
Mercedes picked up after the 5th ring.
"Uh, Santana? What's the emergency?" She sounded anxious.
"Huh? No emergency. Calm your weave Shaniqua."
"Rrright. Well, what's up?"
"Bored. Everyone is at Artie's doing the musical. I thought maybe we could meet up for coffee or dinner or something and do some scheming for the Troubletones."
"I thought you were in the musical as well?"
"I am but I sorted my shit so I don't need to be there. Obviously you know I'm desperate because I'm calling you."
Mercedes snorted. "Gee, thanks."
"So what do you say?"
"Uh, okay…But only if you promise you won't tease me about Shane."
"Aw I wouldn't tease! I was a fan way back when he ran around Yellowstone National Park with Boo-Boo bear trying to steal picnic baskets."
"Santana…" Mercedes said warningly.
"Okay, okay. Calm your farm. See you in half an hour at Breadstix."
She clicked her phone off and drew herself up off the couch. In her hand, the phone beeped with an incoming message.
Just asked why Finn was here and Rachel said Artie let people bring their bfs and gfs. And then Finn said that I should have invited my bf and when I told them I didn't have one they all looked at one another and laughed. :( It feels like that time when Puck and I played cards and he told me to go fish and so I left to hitch a ride to the coast. Sad unicorn. Jokes on me :(((
Santana glared down at the message. She could picture that smug post-lame joke smirk that Finn got across his face.
"Shit," Santana said bitterly to her empty living room. They'd usually never dare to mock Brittany when Santana was there, she would have snapped their necks in less time than it took Finn to prematurely ejaculate. The speed of freaking light.
Santana furiously tapped out a reply detailing exactly what she would do to Finn when she got her hands on him, and then headed for her room to make herself presentable for Breadstix.
/
Santana was in such a foul mood that even the delicious carb-loaded cheesy goodness smell of Breadstix didn't make her feel any less like murdering Finn Hudson. Mercedes was already waiting, chewing on the straw of her coke. Santana slid into the booth opposite her.
"Hey Wheezy." Mercedes looked up. She trailed her eyes up and down Santana's short, short black dress.
"You look like you're going to do a special performance at Miss Ribena's Play House."
Santana shrugged, signalling to a young guy in a waiter's uniform lingering nearby.
"It's useful when you want to eat for the price of one." Santana said, clasping her hands together and squeezing so that her breasts raised flush against the top of her dress.
"Watch this," she smirked as the boy made his way to them.
"Impressive!" Mercedes grinned as Santana managed to score two complementary starters and two cokes from the poor kid who managed to take their order- write it down and everything- without looking away from Santana's cleavage.
She shrugged modestly.
"It's not too hard. Bet he's going to jerk off in the staff bathrooms before we get our food so it could be a bit delayed."
Mercedes wrinkled her nose.
Santana's phone buzzed in her clutch on the table and she drew it out. She saw that there were two unread from Brittany. She clicked the read option on the first one.
Blaine is the only nice boy here. Kurt isn't talking to him though. He's being a silly unicorn. Blaine is a unicorn too I've decided.
Then, the message she'd just received:
All the football guys are asking me how long your fingers are. Finn and Rory laughed lots when I tried to show them .I don't get it! :(((((
Santana stiffened, clenching her teeth and squeezing her phone until the plastic ridges dug painfully into her palm. The pain wasn't satisfying enough. She wanted to bust her knuckles open on Finn and Rory's faces.
"Uh...Santana? You okay?" Mercedes was looking at her in mild alarm, her straw dangling limply from her mouth.
"Mmm," Santana was afraid to unclench her teeth. She was angry enough to scream, to upturn a table. She was angry enough to tell Mercedes everything. She fixed her eyes on Mercedes and then said, "Finn is being an ass to Brittany at the fitting."
"Oh."
"Well, all the boys are. Except Blaine apparently."
"What are they saying?" Mercedes let the straw go and sat up straighter in the booth. Santana looked back down at the message and frowned. The words were welling up in her throat like vomit.
"They're making digs at her about me. About...well…They're being pervy assholes."
Mercedes rolled her eyes.
"That isn't exactly a huge surprise. According to Shane in the locker rooms they are always gagging over the thought of you and B. Have been ever since that article." Santana felt herself go bright red. She knew even her olive skin couldn't hide it. She flattened her clammy palms on the table, casting aside her phone. It clattered across the table and Mercedes looked down at the still lit up screen. Her eye brows shot up as she read the message. Santana felt frozen in her seat, she knew it was too late to snatch the phone back.
"What the...that is some whack shit. Did they actually ask her that?"
Santana nodded, reaching over to take her phone back. She felt her eyes watering but she blinked them fiercely. The kid arrived back with their starters and cokes and Santana was hoping the food would distract Mercedes but when the kid left she looked at Santana with pity all over her face. Santana didn't know what to do. Pity was not an expression many people reserved for her. She looked away and took a sip of her coke. It tasted flat but cold and it felt good on Santana's throat.
"Santana." Mercedes was still looking at her.
"Mmm?"
"I know."
"Know what?" The words felt fat and heavy in her mouth. Her heart jackhammered in her chest. Trying to keep casual, she took another sip of coke as the world imploded around her.
"Santana."
Santana would never admit it, but deep down she knew that everyone knew. Every glance in the hallways at school stung her like an electric fly swat. Every conversation that ended abruptly as she entered the room was another nick in her armour. She knew the joke was on her but she refused to laugh along. It was easier to pretend that they were all wrong. See, it was easier to resent them for being wrong than for being right.
She and Mercedes were sitting two booths down from the one she and Brittany had sat in and held hands under a napkin. The one where Santana had asked her if they were together. The one where Brittany had said yes.
The truth was that close to them. Two booths down.
She dragged her eyes up and looked once again into Mercedes gaze.
"The digs don't just get to you coz they're rude," Mercedes said softly. "They get to you because they're messing with your girl."
Santana blinked. Every nerve in her body was twisted and screaming at her to run. Her tongue was curled around a smart retort. Her fists were ready to fight their way out. But then Mercedes did something that Santana would never have expected. She reached across the table and put one of her hands on top of Santana's. She squeezed. Santana flinched at the contact, but Mercedes eyes were boring into her own, holding her there.
"It's okay. I know. And I've just told you I know and we're both still here. The world hasn't stopped spinning."
Santana's eyes filled with tears and her face screwed up. She reached for a napkin and dabbed her cheeks, Mercedes hand on her own feeling like an anchor now. An anchor into a safe harbour. She took a shaky, laughing breath and shook her head.
"Ah. Okay. Okay, okay." Another breath, then- "The world may not have stopped spinning, but our garlic bread is getting cold."
Mercedes grinned that fifteen foot smile of hers and gave Santana's hand a final squeeze before she drew it away and picked up a piece of garlic bread.
"Now, tell me all the West Side Story goss," She took a large bite of the bread. "How terrible is Rachel?"
Santana rolled her eyes, feeling lighter and happier than she could remember. "Oh, she's terrible."
Note:
I've had this theory ever since seeing the look Mercedes gave Santana during the Troubletones Adele performance in Ep 6 (you know the one when it goes all silent) that Mercedes actually played a large role in supporting Santana in coming out. So be prepared for some more Mercedes/Santana (I don't know their ship name?) in upcoming chapters!
Hope you enjoyed it and their conversation was authentic as possible for you guys!