Hey guuuys! So, I know it's been ages since I updated, but it's totally not my fault, y'all! My computer died! and I had to get it fixed and that took a while, but now I'm back with chapter 3 and the next one is almost finished so the weekly thing will go on from now!
I also wanted to take a second to talk about the horrible news that's cast a big shadow over the Gleek family. I'm sure you all know that Cory Monteith died a few days ago and I'm sending my love and support out to all the ones he left behind who loved him. His family, Lea, his friends and his fans. He will truly be missed.
On that note, Finn will be as dorkey and sweet as ever in my story like I had planned all along and within our hearts and stories Cory and his character will live on.
I hope you are all okay, my lovelies! Read and enjoy...
Chapter 3
"Gracias, Santanita, did you put sugar in already?"
I nodded and sat down next to my aunt, slipping back under the warm blanket she held up for me and handing her the hot coffee I had just gotten from the kitchen. We were sitting in the conservatory, wrapped up on the blue sofa, and staring out into the garden as we talked.
The both of us had managed to push the heavy couch so it was facing the main glass front instead of the TV to the right, and were now silently sipping our steaming drinks as we followed the snow flakes' way down to earth with our eyes.
My dad and uncle Julio had taken the boys for a walk in the snow and had taken the sledges they had brought with them as well, in case they found a nice little hill on their way. Meanwhile, my mum had hardly left her bedroom all day, saying she had a horrible migraine and needed to rest. She'd only been out twice, to go to the bathroom and to get some water for her aspirin pills.
Nobody had commented on her no-show act and I was quite relieved not to have the topic of my coming out picked up again in that light.
"So, your dad tells me you're in Glee club now." Carmen enquired conversationally and I shifted on the couch to face her. She was eyeing me over her steaming cup and I smiled. She looked just like she always did on the days around Christmas, with her comfortable training pants, thick, woolen socks, her black and orange scarf and a warm, flattering pullover with slightly too long sleeves partly covering her hands. I loved her snuggly Christmas and holiday style and immediately my mind got flooded with endless happy memories of me in her lap as she read me stories in Spanish.
During my childhood, before my mum had gone back to work, we had spent a big part of our time at relatives' houses. Whether it was my abuela's home, uncle Roberto's, or aunt Carmen's, I had always loved having my family around and getting told stories of my Puerto Rican ancestors in their mother tongue which was essentially mine as well, growing up like that. I had especially enjoyed playing with my older cousin Fernando - uncle Roberto's son - and his sister Juanita who was only one year younger than me, but whenever we had gone to tìa Carmen's house, who didn't have her boys until I was older, I had been her sole focus and she would read to me for hours.
I still remembered the way she had always looked at me with her smiling eyes and shared old stories about my dad in a low tone and with this secretive expression that they both had, which always made me feel so special and seen.
As she smiled at me now, I was more than ever grateful for her unabashed ways. She knew what she believed in and no book or person would ever tell her how to live, as she always said. When I was younger I used to think that meant that she preferred cooking without a recipe book because she thought her dishes were better anyway, but now I came to realize that she might have just meant books in general, but the bible in particular.
Almost everyone in my family was more or less religious, but aunt tìa's interpretation of what god was all about had always spoken to me the most and had had me listening intently at her view on things on that matter, even as a child. She used to tell me that god wasn't as much a person as an idea. An idea of how to be kind and how to be a good person and that all I'd have to do to become a woman my parents would be proud of, would be to live as honorably as possible. 'Be kind but strong, be considerate and honest, be proud and confident but not self-righteous.' Those were the values she had taught me.
I had often lain awake at night thinking about that code of integrity and trying to imagine the looks on my parents' face when I turned out to be an honorable woman just like aunt Carmen had said.
Saddened, I thought that I had failed to become the woman I had wanted to be back then, the woman I still thought should be who I am, but I also realized that ever since Brittany and I got together those morals seemed much easier to follow than they had during my confusing time these last few years.
All was not lost and suddenly I saw a way to help my mum come around. Maybe, if I stuck to my aunt's code, I could be honorable and true enough to make her see what she couldn't yet. That it was love, she was so appalled by. Love, she feared would destroy me or our family. Love, she tried to shield us from and push away. But if I could only make her understand that, then maybe she'd feel how happy this love made me, Brittany's love made me, and then she wouldn't be afraid of it anymore.
Now more than ever was I grateful that my aunt didn't change her ways for anything or anyone, as she just raised her eyebrows at me questioningly, and nudged me with a low chuckle, teasing if I was lost dreaming about Brittany.
I laughed. "Maybe a bit." I allowed with a grin.
She shook her head reproachfully but smiled still, and repeated the question I had failed to answer. "I asked if what Hector told me was true. Are you in Glee club now?"
"Oh. Yeah, yeah I am. It's not as lame as it sounds though." I grinned, sipping on my coffee. It was still quite hot and I grimaced as the liquid left my tongue burning. Blowing on it instead, I scooted back against the armrest and tugged my feet up onto the sofa, facing Carmen.
"I don't think it's lame at all." She said gently and put her own almost empty cup down to the floor next to the couch, before mirroring me and pushing the blanket in underneath our feet so the warmth wouldn't escape. She sighed relieved as she tugged the warm cover closer around her body and made herself comfortable, leaning her right arm against the back of the couch and resting her head against the propped up hand, ready to listen.
I shrugged. "Well, we started out as sort of spies for Sue, our cheerleading Coach, but now we do it cause it's actually really good. I mean, most of the time people fight or have one sort of drama or another and Mr. Schuester definitely needs to de-dust his teaching methods and song choices, but all in all Brittany's right. Glee club is kinda like family." I explained, feeling an odd sense of belonging when I thought of all our club members. It was kind of like family and I started to appreciate more and more that family was so very important. No matter if blood or not.
"So 'we', that's Brittany and you?" my aunt inquired interestedly, wrapping her arms around her knees.
"Yeah. Me and Brittany and Quinn." I told her, before giving my hot coffee another try. This time it was cool enough for me to drink without getting burned again and I hummed as the liquid made its way down my throat. So good!
"Ah, yes, of course." She nodded. "Si, I remember her. You used to bring her around a lot when you were younger. The two of you were … ay, what is it…" she frowned and clicked her tongue impatiently, looking about the room as she tried to find the right words in English. Even though she had lived here most of her life she mostly talked Spanish at home and therefore sometimes struggled with English phrases and some words. "Thick as thieves?"
I nodded and she smiled slightly proud. "Yes, the two of you were thick as thieves and I remember that you always played with Allison Puckerman's boy. Are you still friends with him?" I nodded over the rim of the cup as I drank. "Wait, isn't he the boy that got your friend pregnant?" she didn't sound disgusted, merely a little concerned as that particular piece of information came back to her.
"Mhm, yeah." I affirmed. "He's in Glee club too."
She raised her eyebrows in surprise but didn't comment any further. Instead she asked, "How are they handling that? They gave the baby up for adoption, didn't they?" she frowned, small worry lines appearing on her caramel skinned forehead.
I loved how much she cared about Puck and Quinn. About my friends. She knew them, yes, but she hadn't seen either of them - except for maybe for a few seconds in passing - since around middle school, and still she cared what happened to them and what their lives were like.
"Yeah. Beth. Her new mum is someone we know, so Quinn and Puck go to see her sometimes. They're handling it really well now I think, but there was a time when Quinn went a little loca." I told her with a light laugh. It wasn't really funny, but it was one of those things you remembered with a chuckle, glad it was over. Tìa Carmen nodded and hummed understandingly.
"Ay, it must have been so hard for the poor darlings." She sighed compassionately and leaned back against the armrest, a pensive expression on her face. My grin slowly faded from my face.
"Yeah. Quinn had a really hard time with it for a while, but she's okay now. And like I said, Shelby lets her visit, so it's not too bad." I turned the cup in my hands. Most of the warmth had fled the porcelain already and as I drank the last of the coffee it was almost cold. I rubbed my tongue against my upper row of teeth to get rid of the yucky taste that lingered from the last sip of the otherwise delicious liquid. Brittany was right to prefer hot chocolate or something of that sort. At least with those choices the last bit didn't taste like ass.
I smiled as I remembered how eagerly Brittany always scooped out the bits of creamy chocolate that were left at the bottom of a cup after you've drunk all of the rest. She'd been doing that for as long as I had known her and I hummed in my throat as the mental image of an eleven year old Brittany with a chocolate beard entered my mind.
Tìa Carmen chuckled under her breath and wiggled her toes against mine underneath the brown and black woolen blanket we shared to get back my attention. "So, Brittany, huh?" I tried not to blush, I really did. Was I really that obvious? "I remember when I first heard about her. You had just met her and we were having a barbecue at Roberto's house and you were going on and on about this blonde girl who was so weird." The chuckle turned into a melodious laugh and my aunt tipped her head back a bit as she recalled the memory. "I remember how you glared at Juanita when she said she thought Brittany sounded like a lunatic."
"She's not! She's not a lunatic!" I hissed, instantly defensive. A fine buzz of annoyance and protectiveness seared through my body and my eyebrows furrowed deep. I pressed my right arm tightly around my body as the longing I always felt when I wasn't around Brittany flickered more potently than just a minute ago. My aunt eyed me with interest, her eyes narrowing slightly.
"I see it hasn't changed how protective of her you are." She remarked quietly, the laughter gone from her voice. I remained silent, not sure what I was supposed to say. Damn right, I was protective of her. And for good reason. People always looked down on Brittany, called her names and told her she was stupid or crazy and she was too sweet and too innocent and too outnumbered to do anything about it. So of course I had to protect her. Nobody had the right to make her feel bad about herself, and I would fucking well see to it that nobody would ever hurt her again. My jaw clenched and I missed her touch, her voice more and more every second to the point where I felt slightly nauseous. Was this normal?
"Hey," a hand gently squeezed my knee. Aunt Carmen had dipped her head down to meet my eyes. When I raised them to hers, concern shone in them, making me swallow down my misplaced anger. "I didn't mean to insult Brittany. I've only met her once or twice but I remember her quite fondly." My shoulders relaxed a little and my jaw loosened. She leaned back, but kept regarding me contemplatively. "She was very quiet when you brought her over, but I could tell she enjoyed seeing new things and learning about your family. She was very sweet on you even back then, you know."
The last of my tension ebbed away and a small smirk crept onto my lips. "Sweet on me?" I mocked the outdated term. Aunt Carmen just raised her eyebrows and nodded confidently, not buying in to my teasing. I hummed again and thought back to the first time I ever took Brittany to meet aunt Carmen.
"What's wrong?" I asked as I felt Brittany suddenly stop behind me, affectively tugging me back as her hand was still in mine.
We were only a few steps away from the dirty white fence gate that would lead us into my aunt's front yard. From behind the house the sounds of my relatives were drifting towards us.
Voices, light and careless in the summer heat, wove artful melodies into the air. The adults' laughter and my cousins' high-pitched squeals of joy stirred a familiar, comfortable feeling inside my stomach and when I heard water splashing from the paddling pool I was sure they had put out, the sounds made a notion of belonging wash over me.
While my Spanish roots were oftentimes the cause of hurtful ridicule and tiring self-doubt in school, here, at my aunt Carmen's place, where I felt as much at home as in my parents' house, hearing the melodious language, as the words carried over to us, made me feel safe and protected and right.
Brittany's eyes were wide under her too long fringe and she looked hesitant as she stared towards the house.
Quinn and I had just met her a couple of weeks ago and even though she was a little weird, there was something about her I couldn't quite explain. It was just this …feeling I got whenever she was around. She was interesting and different and I wanted to get to know her better.
She hadn't attended the same elementary school as Quinn, Puck and I, but we had found out that we would all go to the same middle school, which started in exactly five days. Although, Puck now always seemed to hang with that weird tall guy who kept smiling that lopsided smile at Quinn whenever we saw him, so maybe Puck wouldn't have time for us anymore after all. Like I cared…
I mean, I still had Quinn. And now Brittany, who was currently gnawing her lower lip.
I grinned, somehow her shyness making me feel even more self-confident, and rolled my eyes at her.
"It's okay, they won't bite." I teased, tugging on her hand again and walking two steps backwards, dragging her nearer to the gate.
I wondered why she was acting so shy all of a sudden. I mean, she was usually really open and social and stuff, even though she sometimes went quiet when people talked about things she didn't know much about or when someone looked at her weirdly after she said something strange, which she did quite a lot.
I thought she might be afraid people would think she was stupid. She'd already asked Quinn and me if we thought she was stupid once, when we had had to explain to her that clouds aren't made of cotton candy.
I had seen that Quinn had had a difficult time stifling her laughter, but I had kicked her under the table while Brittany wasn't looking and she had frowned at me, but stopped laughing. I had been a little annoyed with her then, but Brittany at least hadn't seemed to have noticed, and after scowling at me some more and rubbing her shin, Quinn had explained what she thought clouds were made of, stuttering a little when Brittany had asked her why the rain didn't fall all the time if it was up there all along.
So, I hadn't really been mad at Quinn for almost laughing at Brittany's question. Besides, Quinn would have never told Brittany she thought she was stupid. I mean, and why would she… Clearly Brittany wasn't stupid at all. She was just different from others. Good different though.
She reluctantly let me pull her after me now, following me along the chest-high fence, but her gaze remained nervous.
When I pushed open the gate, I released her hand and marched ahead of her. "Wait!" she exclaimed and quickly rushed to my side again, curling her arms around my right one and biting her inner cheek.
As we turned away from the front door to walk around the house into the back garden, I almost asked her why she was so nervous, but before I could say anything she leaned closer and whispered, "Why are they talking like that?"
Her voice was full of wonder and question and I stopped in my tracks, staring at her.
Did she really not know? Had she never heard someone speak Spanish before?
I gazed at her in astonishment until she frowned in concern. "What?" she asked apprehensively. "Did I say something stupid?"
A slight tinge of red colored her cheeks as she looked down, and I thought I had heard her voice catch.
Suddenly a sadness I couldn't explain invaded my body and I immediately got angry, trying to push the unwanted emotion away.
"What? No!" I snapped harsher than necessary. I didn't mean to get upset with her but I just… somehow it made me furious that she would ask me that. She looked up at me, surprised, and I struggled to keep my voice calm, my features unstrained. "They're talking in Spanish. It's kinda my second mother tongue. I'm Puerto Rican." I said, and for the first time since I could remember, I didn't feel like I had to defend myself.
In an instant, I realized why. Brittany would never treat me, or anyone, differently because of where they came from. The thought wouldn't even enter her mind. Even though I had only known her for barely a month, I was absolutely sure about this. Still, I hadn't expected to not even feel like having to defend myself. It was an entirely new feeling and it had caught me off guard.
While I pondered over the unexpected absence of feeling judged, Brittany's eyebrows rose and her lips formed a small 'oh'.
A second passed before she spoke again, her face now showing her in thought instead of nervous or ashamed. "I can't speak Spanish though. How am I going to know what they say to me?" she asked me, a frown line appearing on her forehead.
A small grin escaped me. "They speak English too, don't worry." I explained, silently envying Brittany's cute freckles as the sun dove out from behind a cloud and bathed her face in such a bright, warm light that she had to squint her eyes to shield them from it, her nose wrinkling adorably.
"Come on, I wanna show you Snickers!" I gave another little tug at her arm before turning around and striding towards the tall wooden door that separated the back yard from the front of the house, this time sure she would follow me.
I had never brought anyone other than Quinn or Puck over to one of my family's houses, mainly because all the other kids in our elementary school had been mean and stupid, but as I was leading Brittany, a girl I had only just met a few weeks ago, towards where my mum and dad were chatting with aunt Carmen and my abuela over the BBQ, a sense of rightness settled in beside the excitement.
And as my mother turned around and greeted Brittany with bright eyes and a welcoming smile on her face, I couldn't have been happier.
I ignored the distant throb of regretful nostalgia, and instead smiled at how much had changed since then. Now Brittany was hardly the shy, quiet girl around my family anymore she used to be when I had met her. Somewhere in the back of my mind I secretly liked to entertain the thought that she had only been so nervous all those years ago, because it was my family she had met that day. After all, she was never as shy around anyone else. Thinking that I had been that important to her even back then made a giddy warmth spread through me and I smiled happily.
That entire day was one of my favorite childhood memories.
"She loved that Piñata." I murmured. Letting the memory of a blindfolded Brittany, doubling over with shrieking laughter and giggles under a half beaten, colorful Piñata, fill my mind. The mental picture caused me to grin and bite my lower lip. My body hummed deep within and I felt my heart ache to see her outside of my memories again, even though it had not even been a whole day since I had kissed her goodbye in my car in front of her house.
"She loved the girl who had the Piñata." Carmen corrected me gently, her smile easily reaching her sparkling eyes. I sighed.
Suddenly my aunt's expression morphed into one of seriousness and I could feel her next words before she had spoken them.
"Santana, I don't know exactly what happened between you and Maria," she started softly, but I instantly tensed again. I didn't want to talk about this. I just wanted to forget about it for a few hours, but she covered my knees with her hand again and went on unperturbed. "But whatever it was, it's not the end, it's just a moment in time. Changes can be hard to adjust to and whether it is fair or not, learning that your daughter is gay unfortunately still counts as a big surprise in this world." As her words slowly soothed my tiring defensiveness, I let my guard down again and just took in what she said, desperately needing for something to erase the aching in my heart that now pounded more dominantly once more.
"Your mother loves you Santana and despite what it feels like now and what things might have been said, that is one thing you can always be sure of." I met her eyes and searched for something. The truth. Maybe if I only saw how much she believed in what she said, I'd finally be able to fully let go of all the pain and uncertainty. Her light brown eyes shone with honesty and though they didn't dispel my fears they eased them a great deal. Grateful, I nodded slowly.
"Okay?" she smiled at me and nudged my knees encouragingly. I nodded again.
"Yeah, okay. Thanks, tìa." I murmured, half a smile tugging at one corner of my mouth. She let out a big breath and shifted both of our legs to the floor to pull me against her side. I leaned my head against her shoulder and let my body relax into the warm embrace of her right arm around me. Her hand rubbed up and down my arm in slow, calming strides. "Ay, sobrinita, what a hard life it is." She hummed good-naturedly and then chuckled deep in her throat.
Sitting like this with her, talking about things so close to my heart and remembering how much I used to love seeing my aunt, made me regret that we had lost touch in the last few years. Ever since my mum had gone back to work and high school and my own fears had pretty much taken over my life, I had hardly ever seen any of my family and I only just realized how much I missed them.
As we watched the snowflakes fall once again in peaceful silence, I drew strength from her fierce belief and strong confidence. I promised myself I wouldn't let us drift apart as much anymore. Having my aunt Carmen speak so openly and honestly to me about a problem that I didn't fully understand and didn't think I had the strength to face alone for much longer, made me see that maybe I didn't have to fight it alone. And maybe I didn't have to fight at all.
We couldn't make people do or believe anything. We could only persistently try to help them understand. 'Be kind but strong, be considerate and honest, be proud and confident but not self-righteous.' Her code of morals echoed in my heart and I felt a calm fierceness anchor me and make me feel more grounded and in control than I had in a while.
I wouldn't let this wear me down. I'd draw strength from every stone they'd throw at me and I'd shield Brittany from any sticks that would come her way. I loved her and she loved me, and as I reminded myself of that, a happiness too bright to imagine as anything but pure light flowed through my veins and made me feel as complete as I could without Brittany in my arms.
"So you went from class room to class room?" Carmen asked interestedly as she handed me another wet plate to dry off. My dad, Carmen and I were cleaning up the kitchen after dinner while uncle Julio brought the boys to bed again. The dishwasher was already humming as it cleaned most of our plates and pots. Since it hadn't had enough space to fit all of the dirty dishes though, we were now washing the rest by hand. Well, aunt Carmen was washing them while I was on towel duty and dad cleaned the counters and put away sauces and things into the cupboards and the fridge. My mum hadn't come down for dinner. She said she still wasn't feeling well.
If I was being totally honest, I was more relieved than saddened that she hadn't joined us. After all, she hadn't spoken one word to me all day and I couldn't imagine that dinner would have been any different. What a lovely table conversation it would have been with my mum avoiding any eye contact with me whatsoever and everyone else trying to fill the awkward silence. No, thanks, I much preferred it this way. I only wondered how long her absence would last for.
"Santana?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah. Yeah, we basically just went from one room to the other and sang Christmas carols." I shrugged, stocking the dried off plate onto the pile I had already done. My dad took them and leaned over to kiss me on the temple.
He had been very affectionate all day and I had relished in his comfort, drawing strength from the conversations with my aunt, my dad's embraces and the boys' carefree playfulness. Even uncle Julio had taken me aside before dad and he had set out with the boys and had a little awkwardly apologized for his reaction the other night and ensured me that he was very happy for me and Brittany.
"That is such a nice custom, don't you think, Hector?" Carmen was saying as she circled the sponge over a cutting board. My dad hummed affirmatively and stretched to put the water carafe back in its place on the top shelf of the kitchen cupboard. "I bet you preferred that to having your lessons, si?" my aunt winked at me conspiratorially and grinned.
I smiled back. "I guess, yeah. At least nobody threw a shoe at us this year."
It was almost comical as her face turned from joking to horrified and I had to stifle a snort of laughter when her eyes widened dramatically. "A shoe? Somebody threw a shoe at you?" she asked, the clean cutting board hovering in her frozen hands. I reached for it and took it out of her grasp.
"Yeah. Last year one of the teachers threw a shoe at us." I frowned, the memory of the embarrassment catching up with me. "Fucking, lazy-"
"Santana!" my dad fixed me with a hard stare and I rolled my eyes as I continued toweling off the board.
"Sorry." I mumbled grudgingly, adding a few more Spanish insults under my breath, nonetheless, earning me another scolding look from my dad as I passed him the dried off chopping board.
Tìa Carmen had resumed finishing off the last of the work, which was only one glass and some cutlery, and shook her head, clicking her tongue disapprovingly. I wasn't exactly sure if she was disapproving of my choice of words or the teacher's behavior, but I was guessing both.
As I was about to reach for the glass Carmen was holding out to me, my phone started vibrating in my jeans pocket and played Chic's 'Everybody dance'. Brittany's ring tone.
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"Oh! I gotta get this!" I hastily wiped my hands on the towel and pulled the phone from my pants pocket. I hadn't worn a dress today. There was no need to be formal when everything was so informal all around and neither my dad nor our guests had felt like putting on nice clothes just for dinner. We'd probably do that on Christmas Eve anyway.
"Hello?" I said into the phone as I walked out of the kitchen with an apologetic grimace, ducking my head. My dad just sighed and my aunt snorted and said something about me being such a typical teenager in love to my dad. I didn't care. "Britt?"
"Heyyyy!" Brittany's cheerful voice greeted me and immediately my chest felt lighter. I sprinted up the stairs and vanished in my bedroom, closing the door behind me, while Brittany asked how my day had been.
"Good, good. I stayed inside all day and talked with my aunt and played with the boys." I recounted the lazy day's events to her, slightly out of breath. I sat down in front of my bed and leaned my head against the mattress, smiling. "How was yours? How was ice skating with Emily?"
"It was so awesome, Sanny! She's really pretty good already and we were dancing in circles and we only fell over like five times!" she sounded so excited, I didn't know what to do with the happiness that spread through me. My smile doubled.
"Aw! That sounds great, B! I wish I could have seen it." I said and the regret only tainted the joy a tiny bit.
"Next time, yeah?" she asked, still enthusiastic but calmer now. I nodded.
"Definitely."
"So…"
I waited but she didn't go on, so I prodded, "So?"
I thought I knew what was coming and I was right.
"So, did you and your mum talk again?" she asked, a slight change in her tone telling me that she was trying to hide her concern for me, so as not to make me feel even worse about my mum's reaction.
It still hurt, but talking with Carmen had helped me a great deal. I wasn't as afraid that this was the end for my mum and me anymore. Somewhere deep inside I must have finally come to believe that she could still change her mind.
"No. She's kinda…she didn't really feel up to it today." I said. "But I'm sure it'll be fine. She'll calm down and then we'll talk again and maybe she won't be so closed-minded then." I added. I wanted Brittany to feel better about the situation so she wouldn't blame herself, but I was also glad to notice that I had actually meant most of what I had said. Only the being sure part was a little exaggerated.
Brittany hummed at the other end of the phone. "Okay. I guess if you're okay…"
"I am." The conviction in my voice must have carried through to her, because her next words were once more light and happy. The conversation went back to this afternoon's experiences with her sister.
"So, at the ice arena they had this little booth set up for like fries and drinks and stuff and next to it there was another booth were you could give them your ticket and they let you throw a ball at some cans that were dressed as snowmen and Emily and I tried it and she won a Teddy bear!" she squealed and I chuckled at her delight. "Oh. But I tried to win one for you too, but I just kept missing." She said, a regretful tone saddening her words. I imagined Brittany jutting out her lower lip in her disappointment and a sweet twinge in my lower belly spread warmth and desire through my body until my heart pounded.
I drew in a breath, caught off guard by my unexpected need – not entirely sure whether it was purely sexual or something else as well, something deeper within me - and said in a rough voice, "That's okay, Britt-Britt. I don't really need a Teddy anyway." She was quiet and my heart continued beating fast and loud in my ears. "Thanks for trying though. That was really sweet of you." The last bit came out a little breathless and I quickly shut up, determined to get my body under control when I couldn't even do anything about it anyway. Or more precisely, when Brittany wasn't even here to do anything about it.
"Thanks." She said quietly, but at least she didn't sound as disappointed anymore. As the silence stretched on, I closed my eyes and wrapped my right arm tightly around my body, tugging my hand underneath the other arm, to stop the fingers that had been dancing over the hot skin of my cleavage.
I was trying really hard to keep the images at bay, but they just kept invading my brain. Brittany sashaying towards me, Brittany taking her top of, Brittany smirking seductively as she crowded me, pinning me against the wall, Brittany kissing my neck, my jaw, my mouth, her hands claiming what was hers. I stifled a moan and my eyes opened wide.
"San?"
I must have given some sort of strangled grunt and quickly cleared my throat to hide my agitation. "Yeah?"
"Are you okay? I thought you sounded like-"
"I'm fine. I'm fine, I'm just…tired." I finished lamely, forcing my breathing to slow down to normal.
"Oh, okay. Um, we can talk some other t-"
"No!" I interrupted her again, before getting a grip on myself and sighing. It was no use lying to her. Because I hated lying to her and I knew she always felt it when I did, even if she didn't probe any further. "No, I'm sorry. It's just…" heat crawled up my neck and I let out a long breath. "I miss you. I mean, I miss you of course, but I also miss… you know, being with you." I admitted, haltingly and more than a little embarrassed.
"Oh!" she sounded slightly surprised. After a second's pause which seemed like a torturous eternity to me, she added, "Then why have you been –"
"I don't know."
"Huh." Was all she gave back.
Brittany and I hadn't had sex since we had gotten together. Not once. I mean, we had done other stuff. Sexy stuff, but we hadn't actually done it yet. I wasn't sure what was holding me back. After all, it wasn't like we hadn't had sex before and I definitely wanted it, wanted her, but for some reason I had stopped us the two times we had gotten close to doing it in the past two weeks. It was really strange. One moment I couldn't wait to tear her clothes off, to have my hands on her and take from her what I needed, and in the next moment I was backing away, catching her wandering hands in mine and coming up with some lame excuse like 'I thought I saw a spider; totally killed the mood' or 'I think my parents will be home any second'. Brittany hadn't said anything so far, although her flushed cheeks and stifled moans had been indication enough that she was getting frustrated. But now she had asked and I didn't have an answer for her.
"Are you...I mean, are you mad?" I asked hesitantly, hoping she wouldn't say yes.
"What? No! I just…I don't really understand. You're always stopping us."
"I know. I'm sorry. I don't know why I keep doing that, I want to sl-" suddenly becoming conscious of the topic and the rise in volume, I lowered my voice to barely above a whisper. "I want to sleep with you. So much! I just…I don't know, I just can't!" I said, groaning helplessly and my brows furrowing in frustration. My free hand came up and my thumb and index finger rubbed my eyes harshly. Seriously! I deserve all the awards! I must be the only teenager ever to cockblock herself! Goddammit, what is wrong with me?
"Well, is it because it's not as exciting anymore now that people know we're together? Cause I heard that that can make some people not want to have sex anymore." She asked, trying to be helpful, and then added as an afterthought, "and also something about chasing the other one, but I don't get it, you and I never ran around and played tag or whatever before we had sex and it was still good." She wondered aloud.
Irrationally, the word 'good' as description for our previous sex-life was annoying me more than it should have, seeing as Brittany surely hadn't meant it the way it sounded, but I impatiently shoved the feeling away and tried to concentrate on the more important issue at hand.
"No, it's not like that. I'm not getting bored or anything. At all!" I added, with a little snort. That was really not the problem. I didn't know what was. "It's just whenever we're about to…you know…I just get…"
"Nervous?" Brittany offered softly. I swallowed.
"Yeah." I drew the word out. It didn't seem quite enough and I searched within me for the other reason I felt lurking just behind my conscious mind. After a second's hesitation, I went on, hoping the words would just come and I'd find what I was looking for if I didn't desperately seek it out. "But that's not all of it. I feel like…I feel like I'm about to," suddenly the unreadable feeling inside my chest rapidly began to take shape and then I knew. The words were so hard to get out, however, but I had a feeling I had to say them out loud so I could figure out why the hell I was feeling like this. "Take advantage of you."
"Take advantage of me?" she sounded confused and I took in a breath. My stomach clenched uneasily.
Now that I had figured it out, had finally been able to name the fear, I also knew where it came from. Unfortunately, that didn't make it any less hard to talk about though.
"Yeah. Like…like I want it and you don't, but I'd still do it, cause I want it so much." I confessed, my words almost blurred together as they shot out so quickly. Once again my heart was hammering, but this time it was because of how uncomfortable I felt admitting to these feelings that had been bothering me, making me question myself and how I treated Brittany.
"But I do want it. Want you. Why would you think I didn't?" she asked perplexed.
"I…" a variety of pictures ran in front of my inner eyes. Not just pictures, memories. Me on top of Brittany. Me shushing her when she was about to say something sweet. Me telling her off for talking when we were making out. Me running my hands over her without even asking her what she wanted. Me claiming her when I had no right to, forcing myself into her, making her come. Me turning away from her when she reached out to me. The last one played over and over in my mind until tears were streaming down my face.
"San…" Brittany's quiet voice held so much tenderness, so much compassion, that I couldn't hold back any longer. A wet sob escaped me and I immediately clapped my hand over my mouth to hold the others in. "Santana, don't. You never made me do anything I didn't want to do." She said gently, and once again I felt like she could read my thoughts. I sobbed again and sniffled.
"But I n-never…I never asked you what you wanted. What you needed. It was always just about me!" My voice trembled and the heaviness in my heart spurred my tears. "God, I couldn't even fucking hold you after! I'm such a fucking asshole and I'm so s-sorry!" I hick-upped, up-set with myself, and wished I could do it over. I wouldn't be such a heartless bitch to her. I wouldn't turn away from her after ruthlessly taking what I needed. I would treat her right. Love her right. The way she deserved it.
A cold shiver ran down my spine and I pressed the heel of my right hand into my eye. I had treated her like she meant nothing to me. Like she was only good enough to sleep with. With horror I was reminded that I had even told her exactly that to her face.
A wave of nausea made me feel sick to my stomach and I groaned.
"San, it's okay. You were scared." Her voice trembled as well and was higher than usual, and I fell deeper into this hole of regretting everything I had ever done to hurt her. And to my own disgust, I now saw there was so much.
"That's no excuse for treating you like you were nothing but a good fuck to me!" I hissed angrily. I heard her suck in a breath. Or maybe she was sobbing now too. Great. Well done, idiot!
"God, Brittany," I moaned, my head sinking onto my knees, making my voice sound strained and gargled as the tears kept coming. "I'm so so sorry. I should have never…I shouldn't have…" but I couldn't finish the sentence. I couldn't come up with a way of making it all okay again.
"It's okay." Brittany snuffled quietly, her voice small, making her sound so vulnerable and young. "I always knew that you loved me anyway. You didn't have to tell me. I knew."
Her words rang in my ears and slowly, doubtingly, I let them in. I sighed deeply as my heart took a careful beat. The pain strangling it had eased.
Of course she had known. Because Brittany had always known me better than I ever could.
"I'm sorry." I whispered again, because I couldn't think of anything else to say. For a few moments neither of us said a word and as I listened to her breathing, it calmed mine.
"I love you, Brittany. I love you more than I understand and I should have told you that a long time ago." I said earnestly. Biting my lower lip, I closed my eyes again.
"I love you too, Santana." Brittany said in almost a whisper. "And I always felt your heart beating only for me when we made love. I never doubted it and I never regretted anything." She sounded so honest and so sure that finally I could let myself breathe again.
"I don't want it to be like that again though. I'm scared if we sleep together I'll push you away after or hurt you in some other way." I said desperately, wiping at the last tears. My stomach still rolled with trepidation and regret, but I didn't hurt as bad anymore and I didn't feel like puking either. Brittany's trust in me, her assurance that I didn't have to tell her for her to know how I felt, was slowly healing me from the inside and I drew in a shaky breath.
"You won't." she said simply. And for some reason, I believed her.
Brittany and I had talked for almost two hours and as I hung up I immediately missed the connection. During our conversation I had moved onto the bed and I had heard aunt Carmen go to bed.
Julio and my dad were probably still sitting downstairs in the living room, talking and maybe drinking some scotch, but I didn't hear their voices up in my room. All I heard was the light swooshing of the wind and my heart beating for Brittany.
She had taken all my fears away, stroked every lonely, scared part of me, until all that was left was contentment, happiness and the ever present longing to be with her. I let out a deep breath and lazily turned my head on the warm pillow. The clock on my night desk read 9:16 pm and I hummed tiredly.
Tomorrow would be Christmas Eve and I wasn't sure what was expecting me. Would my mum come out of her room? Would she look at me? Talk to me? And if yes, what would she say? Would she ask me to join her in prayer before the Christmas tree like we did every year? And could I do that, now that I knew that next to me, she'd probably be praying for me to be 'normal'. For me to not be with Brittany.
I sighed and stared at the ceiling again. I had switched on my night light as the big lamp in the middle of the ceiling had seemed too bright for the late hour and Brittany's and my hushed conversation about what we meant to each other, and the dim yellow streams of light were casting only too familiar shadows all around my room.
Out of habit I followed the outlines of them with my tired eyes which grew droopier by the minute. A yawn forced my mouth wide open and made my eyes water. God, I'm so tired.
I heavily rolled to my side and put the phone onto the night stand, my arm feeling like it weighed a ton, and then I switched off the light. The darkness was a relief and instantly lulled me even more into a sleepy haze.
When I rolled back, I dazedly contemplated whether it would be okay to sleep in my regular clothes and if I could afford not brushing my teeth just this once. I also tried to remember if I was lying on top of my cover or if it had slid to the floor, but really I was too tired to make sense of my own questions until a light knock on my door made me jerk and draw in a waking breath.
My eyelids fluttered open and I mumbled out, "Hm? Yeah?" While stiffly scrambling up into a sitting position. Everything tingled for a second and then the door opened, letting a stream of light in to create a rectangular illuminated patch on my floor.
"May I come in?"
All the breath left my body as my mother's quiet words rang like a scream in my ears. For a second I was too stunned to move, but then I hastened to sit completely upright and cleared my throat.
"Uh, yeah, sure. Come in." I got out awkwardly and watched with apprehensive eyes as the small form of my mother slowly entered my room and made its way to my bedside.
She sat down next to my legs without a word, her back to me. I could only see part of her face, but what I saw of her profile looked tortured and puffy like she had cried for hours. I didn't dare move and so we just sat there on my bed until she finally spoke again.
"You are my child. My daughter, and nothing-" she broke off, her voice wavering and a thickness, conjured up by pain and tears, straining her words. "Nothing will ever change how much I love you, Santana, but I can't allow you to go down this path. Not if I want to be a good mother to you. Your happiness is all I care about and right now you are confused. You don't know what you want and it is my job to show you the right way." She said in a forcedly calm voice.
I wanted to protest, to make her understand that she was wrong, that Brittany was my happiness and that finally I wasn't confused at all, not about what I felt for her, but I couldn't speak. The shock of having her talk to me, of having my mum tell me that she still loved me, when I had half expected never to hear those words from her again, were holding me in place with an iron hand grasped around my heart and throat.
Her hand stroked over the mattress until she was covering my knee and her touch scared and comforted me at the same time. My heart pounding wildly in my chest, I watched as her eyes slowly moved to lock with mine. There was so much emotion in those dark pools, that I felt lost. She loved me, but she loved me wrong. Should I take this wrong love over having none at all? Was it even my choice?
"I know you think you love her, Santana," her voice was rough as were the edges around her mouth and eyes and her grip tightened around my knee. "But you are not even eighteen years old." Her head shook almost imperceptibly and her voice changed. She now didn't sound beseeching and strong, she sounded teary and small and as she went on, she averted her gaze, looking at her hand on my knee, her skin dark against mine. "You have your whole life ahead of you, mija." I had to strain to hear her. "I can't let you make this mistake, I'm sorry."
I still couldn't speak, but my head was shaking from side to side as I couldn't take my eyes off her. Mum, please don't do this. Please see me, please accept it. I love her. Please, don't make me choose.
She took a shaky breath and I physically saw her recompose herself, her shoulders drawing back and the muscles in her jaw tightening. She let go of my leg and stood up, looking down at me. "You are not to see Brittany again. She is no good for you." Her eyes shone and her eyebrows furrowed with the effort of holding tears at bay. Thin, tense lips trembling, she reached forward and brushed away a tear I hadn't known I had shed. Her thumb lingered on my cheek. "Mi hija, this is what's best." She whispered and then straightened.
She looked at me a moment longer, before she turned around and walked to the door. It wasn't until it had closed behind her, leaving me in darkness once more, that I could move again.
"Mum" it was a shaky whisper and a second later, air forced itself into my system in the form of a gasping breath.
God, it hurt so much. That place that aunt Carmen, the boys, my dad and ultimately Brittany had seemingly healed today ripped open to bleed harder and more relentless than before.
I felt shaky and torn and so unbelievably unreal. How could this be happening to me? This wasn't how my story was supposed to go. This wasn't what my life was supposed to be like.
I curled up in a ball on the mattress and let the tears silently drop onto my pillow, my confusing thoughts chasing each other wildly in my head while all the same they were mere shadows and fogs. Unrecognizable, unidentifiable and unimaginably scary.
"What am I supposed to do?" I whispered under my breath, feeling helpless and overwhelmed. This was way too hard. Now my mother was back again, talking to me, telling me she loved me. But she didn't accept me as she asked only one thing of me. The one thing I couldn't give her. That I would stop seeing Brittany. Stop loving her.
I had promised Brittany I wouldn't let anybody tear us apart and I had no intention of breaking that promise.
But I was desperate to find a way not to have to choose between my family and the love of my life.
Because I knew one thing for certain, Brittany was it. The love of my life. And Brittany would win. I might not be able to go with her, not yet, but she'd always be the one who held my heart and if I was forced to leave her now, or to eventually leave this family to be with her when I came of age, a part of my heart would be torn from me. A part I could never and would never get back.
A cold panic washed over me as I felt myself frozen in the face of an ultimatum.
How could I choose? My heart belonged to Brittany, but my family were just as much a part of it as was their blood in my veins.
And of course there was my dad. My family wasn't just my mother, my family were all of them. Carmen, Julio, the boys, my other relatives, but most importantly, my dad. I would not only have to leave my disapproving mum, I'd have to leave him, too.
But suddenly hope awakened in me. My dad.
He wouldn't let her do this. He'd stop her. He'd make her see that this wasn't the way, that this wasn't protection, this was pain.
I turned and buried my face in the pillow, drawing strength from the warm, soft and close confinement numbing my senses.
I bunched the sheets underneath me in my tight fists, bit the pillow and let out a muffled scream, my pain and tiredness leaving me breathless. Then I rolled onto my back again, utterly exhausted, and filled my lungs with long, heavy rushes of air.
I wouldn't let my mum tear us apart. Not Brittany and me, and not her and me either. I'd fight to hold them together. My family and Brittany, hold them close to my heart. Because I needed them and they needed me, too.
Okay, so I hope you've all borne with me until now.
Santana and Brittany definitely have a long journey ahead, but despite the difficulties and adversaries, they also have allies and friends.
What do you guys think? What do you thnk about her mum's opinion? Who is your favorite Lopez relative?
What do you think will happen next? Or should happen next?
I'm curious to read your thoughts, so leave me a review ;)
Laterz, my lovelies!
Spanish:
Gracias, Santanita - Thanks, Santana (sweet form of the name)
Ay, sobrinita - oh, little niece
mi hija - my daughter