Chapter 22
(Brittany)

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"…when I noticed me and the guy behind me going for the same waffle. This guy's six eleven – 300 easy." I play with my lower lip, it being kind of more interesting than Puck's 15th prison story about the food court VS. the shower. "He's got his teeth filed into canines. Tats everywhere." San and I lock eyes, then she looks back at Puck, a mocking smile almost breaking out on her lips.

"It gets better." Bored, I scrape some whipped cream and strawberry sauce off of the plate with my finger. Licking it off, I hope someone will notice my tired attempt at a sexy move. At least I don't have to pretend to be impressed. That's San's job.

"Turning around I flex him my left pack and I flex my right pack." San's gaze stray. "Let go my echo." Now he's just talking about lizards. What gecko took his waffle? What's his obsession with reptiles anyhow? I mean I love dinosaurs as much as the next girl, but geckos? I smile slightly and San is hiding her smile in her hands, trying to make her eyes saucer like. When she throws me a glance, her eyes crinkle in the corners, giving her away. Puck is too busy looking all excited.

"And you know what he did? He let go of my echo." We all laugh lightly. San winks at me, before going:

"You should be our Nation's President."

"Maybe." Puck shrugs, looking like he agrees completely. I keep massaging Artie's leg, Santana and I knowing exactly what we're doing. I turn to him.

"I've been squeezing your leg for like the last hour and a half. Are you not attracted to me?" I stare at him, one hand playfully on my earring. Santana is choking on her drink in silent laughter.

"Sorry, I was really distracted by our waitress. She's totally into me." I see a look pass between him and Puck. Its funny how they think they're the only one's playing this game. Santana can't help herself. Her grin is so big that she has to pretend to drink her cherry cola. Not even I take that seriously.

She's sweet and all, but she has a man and 3 children at home. Besides they're happily married and she's going on 50. Puck moves around in his seat.

"Okay guys, let's move. This meal has been chomped." Now San and I lock eyes again. I glance at Artie.

"What?"

"Dude, I don't pay for food. It's my thing, yo." San's eyebrows are knit together tightly. "We're going to dine and dash. Let's go."

Her fingers twitch almost unnoticed. Oooh, San's angry now. And maybe a little worried. She blinks while she heads off from the table, shaking her head irritably. I grab my jacket and hurry after her, whispering;

"We're going to pay, right?"

"I soo hope he gets caught, that bitch. Maybe we should tell someone now." But there's no need for it. We turn around and see Artie stick an amount next to the receipt. Puck growls, turning back. Santana though, is laughing.

"Thank god your boy's such a do-gooder." We listen in with crossed arms as Puck is talking shit to Artie. He's such a good guy… I feel my heart warming, like hot butter.

"…I'll be escorting these two lovely ladies back to Shay Puckerman for a little sookie, sookie." I hear Santana snort. She pulls my wrist, leading me out of Breadstix.

"Let's go home to me," she says. "I'm sick of this guy. He's not getting it on with the two of us either, that pervert." I smile at her, with a stone heaving in my chest. I'm not sure it was because I felt sorry for Artie, or if it was because of Santana not wanting to share Puck with me.

It was cold outside. The temperature was okay, but a mean wind was blowing, making my skirt jerk violently. I turned around, looking back into the light of the diner. Artie rolled towards us, smiling and waving goodbye at the waitress. Puck and Santana were half shouting behind me. He was trying to convince her to come with him, but she was telling him off. Something about prison being hot to a certain point. I didn't pay much attention to it – she would be with him by the end of next week anyhow. It hurt to think about it that way, but slowly, inside of me, I was starting to give up on the possibility of us… taking a chance on the feelings we had. Those feelings that was impossible to put into words. Only music could come close to describing the happiness she made me feel. But at the same time, only music could describe the pain. That corroding pain of missing her even when she was right next to me.

I heard Puck get into his car, slamming the door shut. Santana yelled something.

I went up to the door, holding it so that Artie could get out.

"Thank you, Brittany," he smiled, a little sadly. I had a sudden realization, like a little jolt going through my body. This was simple. And best of all – he needed me. Santana never really did – or at least never told me she did. Her voice called my name behind us. I almost turned around.

"So, you're going with Puck?" He looked up at me, hope sparkling behind his glasses. I felt myself shaking my head, as Puck stepped on it, leaving me, Artie and Santana alone in the parking lot.

"Nope." Then he smiled, and I found myself smiling back. He had one of those smiles. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms and raising his eyebrows.

"So, you girls want a ride?" I gave him a surprised look.

"What? You can drive?!" He chuckled.

"Naah. I'll just call my mom." I nodded, smiling again.

"That sounds perfect." Santana's hand was on my arm. Her warmth shot up through it like a flock of hummingbirds. My smile faded a little as I turned towards her. Her dark hair had escaped the ponytail, and her eyes were dark with something I couldn't put my finger on. Her cheeks were a little flushed like they usually were when she'd been yelling.

"What's happening?" I had a feeling she already knew. It was like she could see the evidence of my thoughts about Artie scribbled all over my forehead. Her eyes went over my face, like she was reading it right then and there. I looked away, as Artie gave me a nod, phone pressed against his ear. He pushed his glasses further up his nose.

"Artie's mom is giving us a ride home." When I looked back at her, her fingers had left my arm. I was half expecting her to tell me she'd rather take the bus. Or hitch hike with some scary trucker dude. Her eyes were glued to Artie, so sharp you could've probably cut yourself on her stare. Then she blinked and her eyes were empty.

"Cool."

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Rachel leans confidently on the piano.

"We all have boyfriends on the football team. I say we band together and demand them to confront Kurofsky." Quinn speaks up, slightly annoyed, as always when Rachel is talking. Which is, well, all the time.

"First off all I'm not dating Sam, and second of all I think you personally just sent the feminine movement back 50 years." Rachel was quick to answer, though. Sometimes I felt like we should just leave them alone to solve their tension. But maybe that was just me, since I'd seen Quinn look at Santana in a certain way a few too many times. Couldn't really blame her, though.

"Look, guys like Kurofsky only responds to muscle."

"Sooo, we're gonna fight violence with violence." The way Quinn looks at her. Sometimes I think Rachel's the reason she's not dating Sam. She hates Kurofsky as much as we do. He's just a big ass, that's that. Rachel's eyes widen like a deer's. I sigh.

"No! Look, I'm not saying tha-that they should hit him! What I'm saying is that we need to defend Kurt and there's strength in numbers!" I shrug; she's got a point.

"I'm confused." Tina speaks up on the other side of Quinn. I look at her as she turns to me. "Are you and Artie officially dating now?" The shock and well, annoyance, in her voice made me a little bit defensive. I knew how Artie felt about her – they'd been so sweet together. But he'd told me how she'd broken up with him – only because of Mike's abs. It wasn't fair to him.

"Deal with it." Tina looks at me with a surprised look. It's not my fault if she realizes what she's missing. I think I see a glimpse of Santana's stride outside, and something inside of me itches to make a stupid remark that will make them question my sanity and hopefully make San a little jealous. "When you guys fooled around," I ask Tina with a blank expression, "did he ever like, just lie there?" Tina turns her head away, deeply concerned about Artie's safety, probs. And I hear Santana's voice, just like I hoped, with an undertone of… an edge. It cuts through everything.

"Why didn't you tell me we were having a Glee girls meeting?" She approaches Rachel like a lioness ready to prowl.

"This is a meeting for Glee girls with boyfriends; we're gonna stop Kurofsky from bullying Kurt." Santana's gaze falls on me, her brows furrowed, mouth slightly open in disbelief. She looks like I've stabbed her in the back and twisted the knife around. It was last week when Artie and I had become a couple. It was right after that awesome substitute teacher had been around. She really helped us out a lot. Well San and I had her in History, and suddenly a lot made sense. I guess I learn better when the teachers actually dress up and pretend to be the boring old dudes we have to know about. It was like a holiday from school, but we actually learnt stuff. I'm sure that's why one of her names is Holiday. Well, Artie and I had been practicing the Umbrella number and suddenly, he was telling me how much he liked me. It was as cool as the totally cool number we were doing and I figured I thought he was cool too. So now we're dating. I'd told San, and she'd just smiled a little and said nothing. I'm not just telling you she said nothing about it. She stopped speaking for an hour when we were in practice. Everyone was too scared to go near her and then when she left, she only said "Bye." It was freaky.

"What? I'm dating Puckerman." Quinn looks down, defending her baby's daddy.

"You are getting naked with Puckerman." Only Quinn can say something that personal and that mean and making it sound like she's talking about needing to buy some milk. Tina seems like she wants to be a bit nicer, though.

"Besides, Puck can't mess with Kurofsky, he's on probation. If he gets in a fight with him, he'll be sent back to juvy." Rachel throws San a satisfied and kind-of-fake pitying look.

"Okay, so now if you'll excuse us." San sighs, throws me a slightly helpless look, before walking away. I'm surprised. Usually she would ignore the boyfriend issue, pushing everyone until she was in on the scheming. But now she just spits at Rachel:

"You're SO on my list, dwarf." Hands on my knees, I follow her with my eyes. She doesn't look back at all as she marches out of the choir room.

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With her long red dress and orange flower in her hair, cleavage so deep I feel like if I dared to peek, it would be like looking at her toes. I put the flower into her hair, corrects it. Her gaze is directed over my shoulder.

"You remember the lyrics, right? It's 'who cares baby, I think I wanna marry you'." She says, a little bit of worry in her voice. "Not 'it's cakes, baby'."

"I'll try. But cake is better than care." She shakes her head and I can tell that she's fighting a smile. Since I'm so close already (I'm holding my breath not to give my trembling lungs away) I take my time to put more of that gorgeous black her behind her ear. My hand moves down to behind her ear and down to the back of her neck, pretending to fix the way her hair falls down her back. I can hear her swallow. I can do this because if she says something I can always pull the boyfriend card. 'I'm just being helpful, I have a boyfriend, remember?' Something like that.

"I need to find someone." She takes a step back, her voice cool.
"What? Who?" She just looks at me for a second before turning away, ignoring my question.
"Don't fall asleep when it's time, alright?"
"I'll try." But she's already gone. I let out my breath and turn around to look in the mirror. My cheeks are flushed and my pupils look a little big. As I stare at them, they slowly go down in size.

I wonder if I should've said no to the invitation. Somehow being in a church makes me nervous and honestly, quite bored. It's my grannies fault for reading that boring bible as a bed time story. No wonder I always fall asleep as soon as the priest opens his mouth. It's become a kind of sleeping pill for me.

I look at my eyes more closely, trying to force them open.
"Do NOT fall asleep in there, Brittany…!" I tell myself, trying to give myself a stern look. Instead I blink and yawn a little. Santana will help me, I hope. I see something flicker in my eyes, but when I lean into the mirror there is nothing there. Just my own blue eyes staring back at me like some hungry Siberian husky. I sigh, try to stop another yawn and pat my dress with my hands, straightening it out. Well, Jesus… Ready or not, here I come.

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A/N: This is a little sad, I know. I'll try to make sense of this Bartie business… I won't give it too much time, don't worry. But I am writing Brittany and she did like him a lot at some point. And I want ti to make sense, that's all. It didn't always do that in the show. Don't worry, there will always be a jealous Santana around the corner, or a desperate Brittany. Trust me.