Chapter 13, Hell-O
(Brittany)
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"I thought-" I say, trying to catch my breath, "that we could never do it in school because someone might see."
"Well, there's no one here to see, now is there?" Santana says with her mouth on my stomach. I'm sitting on the sink, pushed up against the mirror. Santana's hands are under my skirt, nails on my thighs. Usually I would've worried about getting caught but the way Santana is handling me makes me forget that we're even in school.
"No, that's true..." I say, pulling her head up, kissing her teasingly.
"This is such a bad idea..." Santana mumbles, before almost climbing on top of me when there's a push against the door. She's away from me in a second, and I have almost no time to smooth out my skirt.
When Hannah stumbles into the bathroom, mouth in a disgusted frown I jump down, grab my jacket and twirl to meet her zombie like state.
Santana has moved away from me, now leaning into the mirror to adjust her lipstick, ignoring our cheerleader friend. She stumbles to the garbage can, and then hurries to push so much soap in her hand it starts dripping from it.
"Hannah, what was that?" She keeps scrubbing her hand under the tap, but looks up at me long enough to say:
"Some loser's ponytail. Effing disgusting, it was!" I put my head on a tilt.
"Why did he give you a pony's tail?" Hannah looks at me again and roll her eyes.
"What are you, five? Coach cut it off and handed it to me." My heart sinks in my chest as Santana put a hand my arm, smiling at Hannah.
"Well, Coach proabably thought it fit your face."
Hannah whips around. I step out of the way, worried.
"Shut your face, Lopez." Santana laughs coldly.
"Whatever, just keep that hand away from me and Brittany." She takes a hold of my pinky and leads me out.
"Poor pony," I mumble as she leads me out of the bathroom.
Santana looks at me and makes a gagging noise as we pass Rachel and Finn, Finn holding up a calendar with cats that looks like their faces have been shaved. I shiver and tug at Santana's skirt.
We stop a few meters away from Quinn's locker, where she and Puck are having a strange conversation.
"I'm pregnant!" She's leaning against the wall. If I had been Puck, I would've shut up.
"And that's my fault?" Quinn sigh, looks away from him, before she whips around, hand on stomach, angry as a lion mother on Animal Planet.
"Stop being such a badass, I know you Noah! If you don't stop sleeping around - or well, say you do - I'll spread a rumour that you're deciesed and that this baby is gonna come out a Quasimodo! No one will even wanna have your phone number!" Her cheeks are red, eyes are gleaming but I can see the glossy blue light in them. I look at Santana. Even though her eyes are directed forward I can see the corner of her mouth crinkle slightly upwards.
Puck looks like the little boy who went to the same kinder garden as me and San. The one who use to pee his pants all the time.
"And forget you'll ever get a piece of this again. I know it's what you really want, and believe me, no one else but me will do." She sneers and put her hands on her hips to really make her boobs and now also Blueberry, stick out. I wonder what Blueberry will look like... and I giggle as I think that it'll have the same eyes as Quinn. She or he will be sooo spoiled.
I wave at Quinn but she's too busy ignoring Puck's explanations to notice.
"Let them work it out," Santana tells me, starting to walk away. When we're past them I turn around, only to see Puck's hand on her cheek and another on Blueberry. She smacks the hand on her tummy away, but he only puts it in his pocket and pulls out a chocolate bar as a peace offering. Then finally, I see Quinn's one of a kind smile. In that way they are alike, Santana and Quinn.
And I stop only to stare at Quinn as she gives him a light kiss on the mouth, letting her hand move across his cheek which I imagine is filled with pointy hairs. Then she leans in to hug him. That's when she sees me and Santana and... gives us a taste of that smile. I start blushing terribly, waving happily when Santana takes my waving hand in hers, pulling me away. Looking back Quinn is already munching in on the chocolate bar, letting Puck put an arm around her. It's unusual to see them so close, and still blushing, I turn to Santana. She is facing forward, hurriedly pulling me into the choir room.
"You need to talk to her more."
She lets go of me, walks to the chair up against the wall and sit down, loooking annoyed. I follow, standing behind her, leaning against the wall.
"You miss her."
"Not really."
The couple enters the room hand in hand, sitting beside each other. I notice Finn and Rachel already there. Rachel looks... weird as usually. I feel kind of sorry for her fashion wise, but she's got Finn so she's lucky. I look back to San's neck.
"You do, don't you? You're not mad at her anymore, right? You should be mad at him in that case."
"It doesn't work like that Britt. She's not a cheerio anymore." She looks tense.
"Why? Why does that matter? She's still her, with or without Blueberry."
I stare at her, hoping to convince her, but she ignores me.
Mr. Schuester enters quietly and starts drawing a stick figure on the board. I put my hands in the pockets of my jacket, tilting my head as I try to figure out what word he's writing on the board.
"You would know."
I lean down, but she keeps looking away from me, now she just looks board. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to say to that, so I keep quiet. I mean, I do know because I still talk to Quinn. She would know too if she only became friend's with her again.
"Hello." We all stare at Mr. Schue. "Hello. Hello... what do you guys say when you answer the phone?"
"What up?" Mercedes say and I smile. Artie quickly follows;
"Who this be?" I like that. Then Kurt speaks up from the chair where he sits outside the rest of us. I wonder if he's okay. I make it a mission to talk to him when I get the chance.
"No. She's dead. This is her son." Everyone freezes, everyone except Santana who just sigh.
"O-kay..." I find it strange how Will doesn't take notice of Kurt's feelings very often. "Alexander Graham Bell, inventor of the telephone, liked to say "ahoy, ahoy!" when he answered the phone."
I catch Santana smiling and it makes me feel tired even though I'm quite fascinated. Strangely enough Mr. Schue manages to teach me more history than my history teacher ever has. I always thought the phone was invented from bananas. Where else would the song come from? I kept listening, but hearing the song inside my head.
Ring, Ring, Ring... Banana phone
"It was Edison who decided that "Hello" was a more appropriate greeting."
We look at each other at the same time, and Santana laughs. I look at my feet, feeling a blush coming on. I don't know if we're supposed to be mad or not.
"We need a new Hello," Mr. Schue says and I think I agree. Santana turns her head away, looking sad. When Mr. Schuester starts talking about us singing songs with Hello in them, I lean down to her ear.
"Ring, ring, ring...Banana Phone!" Santana starts laughing, before she whips around.
"Brittany, right on!" The others look at us and Santana just stares them down. "What? We're brainstorming." She turns to me. "Hello world" by the Saddle Club is a great idea!" I look at her in confusion, but when the group looks away from us again she shakes her head, smiling.
"You whispered, Britt." I smile too, excitedly.
"Really?" She nods as Mr. Schue tells the rest of the class to follow our example.
"Yep."
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"You two should be wetting yourselves with shame."
My heart was shaking inside of me, making it feel like my whole body would start shivering at any given time. Sue had called us in with a maddening look on her face, and for a second I thought that Hannah had seen us this morning.
But of course it was not about that. In a way, it was worse.
"Glee club won sectionals and you did nothing to stop it." She walks up behind us, and I sneak a peek at Santana, her eyes straight forward.
"If you were samurai..." she pauses to lean in close to me, saying; "and my letter opener were sharp enough-" I look at Santana now, frightened, as Coach steps around me, looking at us with arms crossed over her chest. Santana is obviously not going to say anything.
"-I would ask you both right now to commit Seppukku. In japanese this means ritual belly slitting." I speak up in defence with the best I've got.
"We were seduced by the glitz and glamour of the showbiz." Santana looks at me, finally.
"Let me drop some knowledge at you," Coach says with a voice that tells me she doesn't think I know a thing. "Ever since Quinn Fabray has been knocked up, I've been in the market for a new head cheerleader." I look at Santana again. I know how much she want this. She looks down at the floor, ignoring me.
"If you want the job, and back in my good graces..." I sigh, tired of being her slave but at the same time craving her attention. It means the world to Santana. She was born to rule. Just like Lord Tubbington.
"You're going to have to turn around, and listen up." We turn around, facing the monster that is Coach Sylvester. When our shoulders accidently touch I feel like Coach could see right through us.
"You're familiar with a little glee clubber named Rachel Berry?" Santana leans closer, her whole arm brushing against me. I ignore it, feeling a blush coming on. We both nod.
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"Let us give you an introduction into the way that we work. You buy us dinner, and we make out in front of you. It's like the best deal ever." I smile, feeling giggly. We'd discussed it during lunchtime in the girls bathroom. Santana had been all bussiness, but in the end, making out in front of Finn would still be making out.
"Did you see what Rachel was wearing today?" Santana laughs sweetly.
"I know. She looked like Pippi Longstocking, but like... Israeli."
"Her sweaters make her look home schooled," which made Santana laugh pretty hard, I guess, considering I was home schooled for a while. But I'm lucky. My mum doesn't knit, she bakes instead.
"Hey guys, come on. Don't make fun of Rachel... " I look at Finn in disbelief. "She's kind of cool." Santana looks away, biting her straw.
"Finn... that's mean." He really shouldn't be leading her on. He's too nice to her, really. Besides, you shouldn't bite the hands of the girls that's going to make out in front of you... or however that saying goes.
"You know what, actually? Would you mind waiting in the car?" Santana snaps and I smile again. "And leave your credit card."
Finn drops his fork and goes away. He looks sad, like a sad little panda. That reminds me of something I read on the internet that I've been meaning to tell Santana. I read that Pandas are sad. Cats are truly kings. That ducks have 6 lives. And...
"Did you know that dolphins are really just gay sharks?"
She looks at me. I can't help it. Her eyes crawl down my arm, then she looks away, and back again. I nod.
"Yeah."
"Wait, who's a gay shark? Finn?"
"That's totally weird Santana. No." Our food arrives, and she gives the waitress flash of her smile and a sweet thank you. When she walks away, Santana roll her eyes.
"Customers are always right." I smile back. She's the dolphin, really. Beautiful, smart, big eyes... Comes from a warm place and knows a different language.
I'm just a shark... who desperatly wants to be a dolphin. Maybe one day, I could be one. Or like, a duck.
"Are we really going to make out in front of him?" Santana shakes her head, swallows, licks her lips.
"Nah. Just a peck. We don't want to give him any ideas." I feel like giving her one now, but we're in a public place. She's already sitting a little too far away from me on the seat. But no one would question two cheerios at Breadstix together! And spaghetti's really good for the muscles.
"Besides, maybe we should limit it. This is not actually a date, it's work. Getting on top is all that matters, right?" She puts down her fork, waiting for me to answer.
Why the sudden turn? Maybe as soon as she got her eyes on the price. Sleeping with people doesn't matter to Santana, she's said so herself. Sex is not dating. Sex doesn't mean a thing. Loads of times.
Maybe that's it then. I'm confused.
"You are going to help me, aren't you? You are my best friend!" My heart leaps at that, and at the same time I feel a sting in my tummy. Like one of the hummingbirds just died and hit the bottom, pointy beak first.
But I shrug it off. I haven't had a best friend since... well, since the last time we were best friends. I pick a breadstick and put it on her plate, letting my elbow touch hers.
"Just like in top model." She grins, and together we silently chant;
"Wanna be on top?" Then we laugh, and she looks at me a second too long, biting down on her breadstick. Crunchy is apparently sexy, I realize, as my thighs hum happily. I turn away, fanning myself slightly.
"We should make them turn down the airconditioning again." Santana smiles even wider, crunching away with a sly look on her face.
"I'm alright really. But you must be uncomfortable."
"What do you mean?" She nods towards my chest.
"No bra." I look down.
"Yeah, it's getting really hot and sticky in there. These uniforms are not made for girls who go topless."
"Unfortunately," she says quietly, and I laugh again. "Where did you leave your bra?"
"Ehm... On the floor in the backseat." She snickers.
"Wait... In Finn's car?"
"Uhm. Yeah." She looks at me, before bursting out laughing.
"I thought it'd be a nice souvenir." Santana tries to catch her breath.
"Yeah, especially if Rachel finds it!"
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"I don't know why you say goodbye, I say hello!" I sing as me and Santana leave the Glee dressing rooms together. All those months of cheerio practice has made us fast - when we want to be.
"So, what are we doing?" Santana looks at me, smiles a bit then looks away.
"Well, I really need to get home. I'm writing a very nice hate mail to Berry. I'm doing what you told me and channelling my hate towards my mother into something useful... So, hatemails." She grins wickedly. I didn't understand much, but it didn't sound very nice. Oh well, Cheerios we are. Coach Sylvester always encourage us to use our hatred to ur advantage. And to always be sneaky.
"And you don't want some company?" Santana barely looks at me.
"No, best friends can't have sleep overs every night. Besides, I need a good night's sleep to plan how we're going to conquer the school."
"Santana, are we... what about...?" She's still not looking at me, and I'm guessing there's a reason.
"What are you on about, Britt? I don't get it." I take courage.
"Are we just friends now, then?" She stops at the top of the stone stairs, I'm still kind of hiding in the shadows of the entrance.
"What are you on about? We're best friends."
"Yeah, I know, but-" She turns around.
"Were we ever something else? Have I missed something?" Her eyes are wild. I have no idea what they mean. For a second I think I see want, then they turn black and she smiles, a fake one.
"Whatever, Britt. Love you. See you in the morning." She gives me a quick hug and then walks away, like nothing out of the ordinary has happened. Like she didn't just shut me out. Like she didn't just brush me off. Given me the ice queen, the one I only ever thought Quinn was capable off. I guess they are more alike than I thought.
As I watch her car pull out of the carpark I feel stings in my tummy - and all over my body for that matter. Lots of beaks.
I turn around, dizzy, flushed cheeks and lash out at the closest thing, which turns out to be a bin. It falls over, spewing litter all over the stairs. The half empty bin rolls away, and I put my hand over my mouth. Then I sigh, sitting down on the top step, looking up into the already dark sky.
"Hi there Brittany." It's Finn and Puck. Finn looks a bit down, and Puck too. It's almost a shock to see them together though. They don't look too happy about it.
"I'm heading home," Finn says, pausing to smile at me. "It was a nice date, for a while there." He must've meant the peck(s). Santana had leaned in, touched my back while kissing my neck, and when I managed to pull away, I had brought a hand to my chest, knowig my nipples had been showing through the fabric.
"Bye."
"Bye," I mouth, see his big figure leaving me and Puck, who sits down beside me.
"He told me and the guys about a pink bra in his car." I smile slightly. "I know Santana mostly wear black ones. That's a nice trick."
"Well, I felt like I had to leave something." Puck grins, and I can almost hear what he's about to say before he even does it. Those pointy hairs I could imagine before, I can see now, up close. They're not too bad.
I know he's upset about Quinn, worried she's using him. I'm upset about Santana, worried she's using me. We need each other... therapy. Sexarapy. Sexapy? Therasex? Puck interrupt my thoughts.
"Wanna leave another one in my car?" I don't look at him, when I answer.
"I don't think I could afford giving away all my bras..." Puck stands up, looks like that little pee-his-pants boy again.
"Yeah, too bad."
"You'll just have to remind me to bring it back home," I say, looking up at him. His grin and eyebrows says it all. It's way too easy catching boys. I feel like they're the small fish, in the big pond where there's a huge, rare fish that I've been dreaming of catching all my life... But that's life. Like my dad says. There's always plenty of fishes and frogs and leeches in the pond... sea...?
Anyway, he reaches out his hand to me, pulls me up and when he makes a bad joke I laugh at it, as we walk towards his car. And when I start to hum the song, he sings along. It somehow makes it all better for a short while.
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A/N: Don't hate me. Brittany would need to have sex with him sometime. And I need reasons to create bridges between them. More than one. One will get way too boring. And isn't this quite realistic?