A/N-
Sorry for the wait guys! I know, a week my ass! I wanted to add something to this (I did, eventually) but I spent way too long trying to make it right and then I went through a little case of writers block but here it is.
Disclaimer- Same thing, I don't own Glee or it's characters, blah blah blah.
Another thing that came with high school were parties. Santana told me that we had to go to them for public image. I could care less about that. But, it was Santana, so I went anyway.
On one Friday in the summer, we went to one of Puck's famous parties. I had heard rumors that Puck and Santana were getting close again, but I didn't believe them. She would have told me.
As always, once we stepped inside his house, she turned me to face her. She never let me drink any alcohol. I wasn't sure why, but I didn't mind, because I didn't really want to try it anyways. "Remember, B, no drinking. Don't take any drinks from anybody, no matter how nice they're being." I nod and she smiles back, and starts to walk away.
"Wait!" I call and she turns back around, with a questioning look. "Where are you going?"
"Over there." She points to a couch, where Puck sat. He notices her and smiles creepily. A chill ran down my spine. I didn't like him.
"You're back together with him?" I said, not bothering to hide my disgust.
"Kind of. Try to have fun, okay? I'll find you later." She told me, and with that she walked away, leaving me standing near the doorway.
I walked over to Puck's bar, sitting on a stool, watching Santana and him from across the room. They were close, too close, whispering about something. And then they kissed. I turned around quickly, not being able to watch.
A voice rung out. "You look tense." I looked up, it was that tall, awkward guy from the football team. His name was Finn Hudson.
I mustered up a weak smile in return. "Do you want a drink?"
"No." I reply out of habit. But, I was kind of thirsty. "Actually, sure, do you have anything to drink?"
A flash of confusion crossed his face, probably because I had asked him if there were drinks here when there were bottles of alcohol strewn about. I didn't mean it that way, though, I was asking if there was anything other than alcohol here. I was just about to elaborate but then he seemed to understand and nodded, walking off.
He came back two minutes later with a red cup in his hand. It looked like water, but it smelled funny. By now, I was really thirsty, and my throat was parched. I took the cup from him and drank it fast, the sharp taste surprising me. I swallowed it with a wince.
"Whoa, whoa, take it easy. Don't go so fast."
I smiled in return. "This tastes funny." He laughed and agreed, walking away.
I was left alone again, and I finished my whole cup. I was starting to feel a little woozy, so I was going to get up and tell Santana that I was tired and wanted to go, but as soon as my feet touched the floor I felt dizzy, like I might pass out. So, I climbed back onto my barstool and waited. Finn appeared again, coincidentally just when I got thirsty again, and refilled my drink.
Once I finished that, I was feeling really weird. My vision was blurry around the edges and everything seemed like it was spinning. I scanned the room, trying to find Santana. Panic flooded me when I couldn't find her, and I couldn't fight it away. I started crying and calling for her, and then from what I was told, I blacked out.
When I woke up, my vision was really blurry and I could see two figures squabbling. I looked around, I was laid on a bed in some room. The people were fighting in the doorway. "Why the fuck did you let her drink?" I recognized this voice immediately as Santana.
"I, um, she asked me for a drink." The guy, who I figured out was Finn, said. You could tell he was clearly nervous and intimidated by Santana.
"She wouldn't have done that. You must have understood her wrong."
Finn appeared to get a little fed up with Santana and shot back, "I didn't know there was a set of rules that came with her! You can't expect everybody to just know these things. And you can't expect me to not give her alcohol when she asks for a drink at a fucking party." He spat. My vision was clearing up now, and I could see Santana narrow her eyes. "If you actually cared about her, maybe you wouldn't have been off fucking Puck somewhere and you would have been with her, and then this wouldn't have happened." That was it, Santana snapped and slapped him. The sound echoed across the room and they were quiet for a minute. I wasn't paying attention to that though, I was paying attention to what he had just say.
"You don't care about me?" I croak out, my throat a lot drier than I expected it to be.
She turned around quickly, eyes widening. "You're up." At this point, Finn leaves, giving a short wave to me.
"You don't care about me?" I repeat as she closes the door. Tears are filling my eyes and start to get that familiar feeling in my stomach.
"Of course I care about you." She says, walking closer, a worried look in her eyes.
I didn't listen to her and started to panic. "You don't care about me!" I shouted. "You only came here so you could fuck Puck-"
"I didn't have sex with Puck." She interrupted.
"-and you ignored me the entire time! Why did you even bring me here? Why do you want to be with Puck? Am I not good enough for you? Do you even love me? Are you just using me for sex?" With that, Santana glances nervously at the door, like she was worried someone was listening. "You don't care about me anymore. You care about popularity, and you have new friends, and boys. You don't love me." I was sobbing, wanting this feeling to go away. I hated the words coming out of my mouth.
"Brittany.." She said softly, sitting on the bed next to me.
"No! Stop it!" I say, sitting up, pushing her off. "You're trying to manipulate me into thinking you care! That's all you ever do, manipulate me!" I see hurt flash over Santana's face. "You only do it for s-sex, you don't care about me, you don't l-l-ove me!" I say, and my body startings wracking with uncontrollable sobs, as I pulled my knees to my chest and rocked myself back and forth.
I felt the bed shift as she sat next to me. I was too panicked to care, and she wrapped her arms around me, laying her head on my shoulder. "It's okay, shh.." She repeated over and over, making soothing patterns on my hand with her thumb.
Finally, after about a half hour, she was able to calm me down. I felt much better. I wish I never said those things. They were making me have bad thoughts.
Santana was in the same position she had been in, running her fingers through my hair. "I do love you, you know."
"You love me?" I ask, my heart fluttering.
"I do."
"Why can't you just tell that to everybody else? Why do we have to have boyfriends and hide like this? I hate it."
She frowns. "I'm just not ready to tell anybody yet. Everybody's opinions of us will change and they're going to be awful. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if someone hurt you, Britt." She says, glancing down. "I don't even know what my parents would do. Kill me, probably." She looks back up at me and catches the worry in my eyes. "Not literally. But they'd probably disown me. I'm just not ready for all of it, okay? I promise I'll tell everybody eventually. It's just not a good time."
"You promise?"
"I promise." She says, kissing my forehead. I suddenly felt exhausted and the sound of Santana softly singing "Songbird" coaxed me to sleep.
She never went to a party if I didn't want to, and she always stuck by my side when we did go, after that incident. She also seemed more open with me. She didn't seem as ashamed when we would kiss in private, she would tell me she loved me, and she wouldn't mind when I said things in public that had a hidden meaning about us.
In a way, I was thankful for my alcohol induced paranoia. I never would have gotten to that point in our relationship had it never happened. Santana said she thought it was the result of my meds mixing with the alcohol, and to never drink again because it scared the shit out of her. I agreed, of course.
In our junior year, we had to take the SATs. Santana had prepped with me all summer because she was set on getting us both into college. She wanted to move to New York, since everybody was more accepting there. She promised me she would tell out family and friends about us as soon as we both graduate and get out of Lima. I was fine with this, because at least I finally had a date to look forward to.
All summer, she had been studying like crazy. When the time came to actually take the SATs, she was a nervous mess. When I asked why, she said it was her one ticket out of here. I knew she had nothing to worry about since she was so smart, and I told her as much.
When our test results came in the mail, I texted her with a quick, "I'm coming over." I walked down the familiar streets to Santana's house, it was only a 10 minute walk. She was already waiting for me on her porch when I got there, laying on a chair, playing absentmindedly with the edges of the envelope.
I walked up the short stairs and she looked up with a warm smile when she heard me. "Hey."
"Hi. Ready?" I respond, taking her hand and pulling her up. She nodded in response, walking into the house. She let go of my hand right as we walked through the living room, where her parents were watching television. I frowned at her for a second before forcing a smile and waving a polite hello to the Lopez's.
By the time we reached Santana's room, I had pulled my letter out of my pocket. We sat on the bed, facing eachother.
"You open mine, and I open yours." She says, holding her letter out to me. I take it, setting it in my lap, her hand still extended towards me for my letter.
I take both of her hands in mine, squeezing them gently. "You have nothing to worry about, Santana. You're the smartest girl I know." I told her with a comforting smile.
"You think so?"
"I know so." I say confidently and she takes a deep breath. "Anyways, we can always retake it, I might have to."
"Don't do that." She says, frowning.
I cock my head, sending her a questioning look. "Don't do what?"
"Act like you're dumber than the rest of us." She replied, and I looked down, chewing my lip. She leans forward, and I feel her gentle fingers under my chin, pushing it up and forcing me to look at her. "You're a genius, Brittany, and I love you." She says, looking at me with so much love in her eyes, I almost melted.
"I love you too.." I murmur, before glancing down at my lap again, realizing I hadn't given her my letter yet. I hand it out to her, and she takes it from me. "Ready?" I ask, and she nods slowly, and we both tear open the envelopes.
Santana's eyes scanned over the piece of paper, and I watched as her face broke into a grin. "You passed Britt, you got a good score." She said, looking up at me. Her face fell when she noticed my emotionless face. "What is it? What did I get?"
I stay quiet, glancing down at the paper and back at her. "Brittany, stop teasing and tell me." Santana said, looking more and more nervous by the second.
Finally, I cracked and told her. "Near perfect." I said, grinning, throwing the paper at her. She looked shocked.
"Really?" She asks, and I gesture at her paper so as to say, 'look yourself.' She understood what I meant, and read her own letter, her beautiful smile appearing again. "Wow."
"Uh-huh, I told you you had nothing to worry about. Should've listened to genius Brittany." I tell her, smiling cockily.
She giggled and beckoned me to come closer. I obliged, crawling up the bed until I was right in front of her. "You're amazing, Britt-Britt."
She was amazing. I leaned forward, closing the gap, touching her lips gently with mine. She deepened the kiss, laying down and pulling me on top of her.
Suddenly, the door opened and I heard a shrill scream following. Santana quickly pushed me off, sitting up straight. I would have been hurt if I hadn't seen the terrified look on her face. I'd never seen her so scared. Her mother was standing in the doorway, her mouth slightly open and her eyes wide with shock.
"MamÃ.." Santana tried, getting up and walking closer to her. Maria took a step back, looking disgusted. "Please, I can explain!" She begged, tears welling up in her eyes.
Her mom wasn't listening to her, though. She was staring straight at with a steely glare. I gulped. "Get out." She practically growled.
I inhaled a shaky breath. "Mrs. Lopez, it's not her fault. I love he-"
She cut me off mid-sentence. "You forced my daughter into a sinful relationship! I will not have such trash in my house." Maria said, her eyes narrowed.
"If you could please just take a moment for us to explain, she didn't do anything!" I beg, but then I feel Santana's fingers on my arm, and I look over at her.
She looked broken. Her beautiful brown eyes no longer held that spark that they used to. She had silent tears streaming down her face. My heart broke for her. "Go.."
"Are you sure?"
"I'll be okay." She answered, giving me a weak smile that wasn't very reassuring. "Really." She added, when I was unconvinced. I frowned and got up, walking past Maria and through the living room where Antonio had just gotten up to see what was going on. I sped past him and out the door, releasing a breath I didn't know I was holding. I really hoped Santana was right.
I could hear Antonio now yelling, and Santana desperately answering. She wasn't shouting, she was begging. I had never seen Santana like this. I wished I could be there for her.
Most of what they were saying was in Spanish, and I didn't understand. Most of what Santana said was English. She was mostly just saying sorry hysterically over and over.
Then, I heard my name come out of Antonio's mouth, but the sentence was Spanish and I didn't understand it. It was dead silent for a few seconds. "Don't bring her into this." Santana spat.
"She's filth." I heard her mother say and I bit my lip to keep from crying.
"Don't call her that!" Santana shouted.
"Ella es el diablo, y no quiero que vuelvas a hablar con ella."
I didn't understand that, but it seemed to make Santana mad. "She is the only good thing left in this shitty world! I love her and as soon as I graduate we are leaving this god awful town and spending the rest of our lives together!" She shouts and I can hear her crying. "I love her!"
"Don't say such things. She has brainwashed you into thinking you love her." Her mother said.
"She h-hasn't brainwashed me. We l-love each other and that's never going to change." Santana was breaking. I had to fight off the urge to go in there and hug her.
All of the sudden, I hear a loud smack and somebody fell to the floor. It was followed by silence. Then, Antonio spoke. "Get out of my house."
"Papi.." I heard Santana squeak.
"Get OUT!" He shouted and I heard Santana scramble up and practically run out of the door, almost hitting me.
"Brittany.." She breathed out, as tears streamed down her face. Her nose was bloody and slightly swollen. It dawned on me, he had hit her.
I instantly pulled her into a tight hug, and she sobbed into my shoulder. "Shh.." I say, running my fingers through her silky hair.
"I don't-" She gasped for air. "I d-don't know what to do."
I pulled away and looked her in the eyes. "Right now, we're going to go to my house, and I'm gonna fix you up, and you're going to stay with me."
Her eyes watered and she nodded, pulling me in for another short hug. "You're too good for me." She whispers.
"Yeah? I thought it was the other way around." I said, getting a sad smile in return. "Come on, let's go." I took her hand, leading her down the steps.
"Let's take my car." She suggested.
"Fine, but I'm driving." I replied, and she nodded, fishing her keys out of her pocket and giving them to me.
I unlocked the car that was sitting in the driveway, opening the passenger door for Santana. She slid in, avoiding my eyes and I walked around the other side, getting into the drivers seat and turning the car on.
The first two minutes of the drive were silent. I kept glancing at her in the corner of my eye, but all she was doing was staring out the window. She looked like she was deep in thought. "I never thought he would do that."
"Do what?"
"Hit me. I'd gone over every possible scenario in my head, how they might react. But I never thought he would hit me." She said solemnly.
I frown, feeling a little guilty. She had gotten hit after she stood up for me. "I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault he's an asshole."
The rest of the car ride was quiet. I took her home and cleaned her nose up. Luckily, it wasn't broken, just bruised.
I sang her the chorus of "Songbird" before we went to sleep, and she told me I should join Glee Club. I told her maybe.
The next few days, she seemed eerily at peace with the whole situation. She always acted happy. She refused my offer to skip school, so nothing looked like it was wrong.
She didn't seem phased by her parent's late night phone calls that were either begging her to come home or chastising her for her "sins". I should've known something was wrong when that night, she told me, "Goodbye, Brittany." before she headed to the guest room. I figured she just mixed her words up. That happened to me all the time. But, most of all, I should've known she was hurting.